Fantasy A World Renewed (Sandbox God RP)

[melancholy_mushrooms]

Indily, Goddess of Forests and Forest Creatures

Indily smiled warmly. "I suppose that having a free mindset as well as fashion sense would make for a more generally fluid and abstract lifestyle, prosperous with good and natural energy. I, myself, find that not restricting myself to the traditional aesthetics and outer appearance of other deities proves for a more flowing and joyful journey through my life. Being the goddess that I am, it nearly requires for a natural presence." The goddess floated towards a meadow ahead and beckoned Kail to come forward with her.

She glided around, gracefully moving her hands above her and creating a small cloud that floated ​

merely a few feet above the other goddess's head. She simply put her energy into the cloud and it turned into a forest green color. Indily closed her eyes and breathed out, the cloud suddenly revealed a simple sentence. "You will prove to do very great things with your life, my friend." The cloud floated down towards Indily's hands and she held it out for Kail to read. The cloud was buzzing with her energy, radiating with calmness and peacefulness.

"I am quite dramatic at times, yes. However, my dear, I am honest as well. I mean every word. You truly will do great things one day. I can feel it in the air around you. Your aura radiates with importance and destiny. I hope to see you thrive." She smiled softly at Kail and took her hand in both of her own. "I hope that you an I can become friends, kin even. I consider all who are important to me like my own family. So, if you are up for the humble offer, I would love for you and I to become close someday. We have all the time in the world, quite literally." She laughed almost angelically. She continued floating around the other goddess, circling her and studying her features as Kail did to her before.

 

[Karcen]

The Yu'Varth
Area: Quan'Cath
Mentions:​

Time had passed, years, maybe decades since they had first come out from the lake and the Yu'Varth were flourishing in their own style. The council had been rather turbulent as they learned what was to have authority and power. Still they had managed to after many near fights, figure out a number and order of who was in the council. Right now the arch mage, the high priest, the forge master, the head of agriculture, the city administrators, the leader of the stone masons, and the head of the adventures were the current make up of the council. it was lacking many factors but right now they Yu'Varth needed to make decisions not end up bogged down with countless minor members. The city itself while not growing had changed and become more lived in as the artisans would slowly craft various works of art, from sculptures, to murals, to engravings around the city often depicting whatever struck their fancy, or telling minor short stories. Plants were brought in from the surrounding area and used to further add to the beauty of the city bathed in eternal twilight and lit up with magic and the glow of nature.

Outside the city the farmers would tend their fields, though very few needed to actually work. With their magic the yu'vath had created hoes that would work at all times to plow the fields. in the fields where various infused grains, and vegetables. Each tended and looked after by a great number of the mystical animated tools. even watering the plants was done with floating jugs that would never run low on water. This in truth meant the farmer worked more on understanding the plant and how best to grow it. Often A farmer had a small section that was purely for paying with the plants to figure them out. They would test how best to fertilize plants to make them grow and look to improve the flavor of the plants once they were processed. Orchards and vineyards would need more looking after and require more Yu'Varth to work the fields. While the plants still got basic care from the animated tools, they needed more careful tending and trimming that required a Yu'Varth to guide it. They also needed Yu'Varth to determine if they were ripe and take only what was ready. There were also other types of farmers those that grew smaller plants that while they made no meal themselves were used to make other meals taste better the mana in them mixing and combining .

The ranchers had a decent time with their herds of kaataaru finding the beasts easy to manage. Though they had to figure out which ones were ready for slaughter and how to pacify them as the tentacles could injure Yu'Varth quite badly. They had also discovered the ways of keeping the beasts to make sure they tasted good and the crystals within the flesh of the kaataaru. while the flesh mana had a savory teste the crystals were sweet and best used as a treat over a real meal. Keeping unwelcome creatures from devouring their heard had been an issue but wards and culling the populations had proven sufficient in keeping the herds safe.

The forges under the supervision of the forge master looked to ever improve their weapons, the magic infused ore found in the hills not far from the outskirts of the city providing a fine base material. The metal while like simple iron was far more mystically inclined as it like everything had been soaked in the magic of the lands. The knowledge left by their creator had taught them how to heat the metal and shape it, yet they had found there was more to it. They had found by going beyond that Cath had said and heating the metal till it was liquid and infusing it with more mana they could create something new. Etherium. The silver like metal was incredibly versatile and could easily be manipulated and enchanted. The outskirts however did not have an endless supply and the metal could into simply be conjured into existence. They needed to find more and to explore Quan'Cath to find veins and create mines.

It was this need for exploration and the need to cull the various creature populations that head lead to the formation of the Adventures. They were not a truly organized group as they came from all walks, but slowly they were forming rules and ranks even having a new building made to house them. This act had annoyed the priests for a time as while decoration had been done changing the holy city had been seen as almost blasphemy. Still cooler heads had prevailed and the change had been accepted as they had been given all the lands of Quan'Cath and someone had to explore it. That was what adventures did, they went out and mapped the lands finding where creatures lurked and where good stone or metal might be found. Why they did this often was purely to do it to see what was outside the city or to spread the faith beyond the city, or in many mages cases to prove their strength. Still this was dangerous and sometimes entire groups did not return. Luckily the Yu'Varth like any race had decided to multiply and had brought forth plenty to replace those lost.

This was why the adventures were trying to create more order, a system to tell how bad something was and how powerful someone was. Still it was slow going as they had to truly understand what made something dangerous as in Quan'Cath not everything was powerful just because it was big. They also had to figure out how one could prove themselves to be ready to handle bigger threats. It was a case of trial and error as much as the farmer experimenting in his fields. this had all given rise to a new problem compensation. While most could be won over with offers of food and some luxuries their value was to random.

They needed something to denote value as simple bartering might work in the case of average people, but the adventures needed something more, something solid they could hold and save that would not spoil. The problem was that making this whatever it was was complex as with magic many things could just be made, many metals like a yellow one were to easy to make and another the looked like refined Etherium was Childs play to produce. The only metal that could be used was Etherium. The council had a full year of debate on how to use this as the forge master did not want any other to use the metal and other factions felt the forge master would grow to powerful if he controlled the currency. The only decision was making it a joint venture with many groups sending members to create this currency so all would have some say in it. The Ether as it would be called was a small solid cube of Etherium with various distinctive markings on it to avoid counterfeit. The council did not know it but they had started the birth of yet another new faction that would one day become a thorn in their side.

The creation of the Ether was the start of currency, however the problem was adoption and storage. Crime did exist even among the Yu'Varth so theft was a concern. They also had to get everyone to slowly adopt it. not ever person wanted to be paid or wanted to be paid in metal. The Adventures had to barter with them then sell to adventures for Ether. They hoped this would slowly encourage the adoption of the Ether as having both systems up and running was a massive headache for all. That would be solved in time for the immediate future they had a solution.

 

[mewmilk]

At some point, Caradhim had ceased her observation of the mortals below. As fascinating as they were, they were still base, primitive creatures, with virtually no civilization to speak of. Boredom had begun to set in, and so she’d given in to her urge to create. She was just adding the finishing touched to the sword in her hands when suddenly, a god appeared before her. Though she quickly composed herself, she’d dropped the sword in her surprise, and it fell down into the world below, embedding itself hilt deep into a large rock. The stranger made no introduction, but she listened with patience all the same. “Oh? A mortal race, you say? Hmm...” With a tilt of her head and a finger on her chin, she considered the god’s odd request, scrutinizing the god before her.

Finally, after a long silence, she spoke. “A being of flesh and blood alone could never have hoped to contain your splendor, yet by striking too softly, you have failed to hammer life into your creation. Is that right? Well, fret not, radiant one, for I shall provide the solution to your problem. You’ve done well to seek my assistance, if I do say so myself.” The goddess puffed out her tiny chest with a huff of pride. The smugness in her voice was palpable. “As for compensation for my services, that won’t be necessary. The opportunity to work for a client such as yourself is payment enough. All that I require is a bit of your light with which to make the vessels functional.”

From the earth, strange new minerals began to surface, ones which had not yet been entrusted to mortal hands. These, she laid out before her, before reaching up to grab the sun’s rays and the cold darkness which existed beyond the planet’s bounds. Once all the necessary materials were obtained, she began to work. Melting the metals down, she stirred in the sun’s rays, resulting in a bright burst of light. This, she calmed by throwing the void’s darkness into the mixture. Instantly, it began to cool, and as it hardened, she molded it with her hands into a skeletal form.

The first vessel was complete, and so she presented it to Buras. She then used the leftover material to create a second, slightly smaller vessel, which she placed beside the first. They weren’t pretty, all hollow and barebones as they were, but that would soon change. All that it was missing was the other god’s touch. The skeletal frame would regulate the god’s essence, ensuring the vessel neither burst from the power nor lacked the energy necessary for life.

The god of smiths let out a breath of satisfaction at her work. “There. Although the containers are complete, I’d advise you not to pour your essence into them just yet. They’re merely frames, you see, blank canvases. I’ve elected to leave the finer details to you, but do be gentle with the bones. Those need to be intact, otherwise...” She spread her arms out wide and mimicked the sound of an explosion. “The result will be quite destructive.”


Interactions: Soviet Panda
Mentions: N/A

 

[Beeihu]

L'Oria and Mawlock
Interaction: Damafaud



Mawlock paid little mind to the goings on of the other gods and their interactions. For a time, there seemed to be order and peace. Nevertheless, he kept watch with his angels. Sure enough, Mawlock witnessed the sleeping god awaken. He stood up from his throne, believing this to be quite the occasion. Wondering what the goddess would do, Mawlock stepped forward and watched closely.

What he witnessed next made him tense. He kept his exterior calm and collected. Neutral in his expression and demeanor so not to scare his angels who were watching both the goddess and their creator. But internally, Mawlock began to boil with rage. "How dare this... lazy, good-for-nothing, disrespectful, excuse of a god..." He couldn't finish his sentence as he spoke through a clenched jaw.

He watched in pain and anger as the beautiful dragon L'Oria had created went to her and begged for rest. Mawlock put a hand over his chest, feeling the pain swell within at the suffering of the poor beast, and the subsequent pain that it caused his beloved sister.

As if bonded to L'Oria, seeing her burst into flames made Mawlock release his own anger. His realm shook violently, causing the skies of the planet to boom as the life energy that flowed around Mawlock ignited. His form twisted and darkened. His angels cowered, moving away from Mawlock as he expressed anger for the first time.

He watched on as L'Oria turned the scales of the beast into more dragons, and while it brought him some semblance of peace, what had happened was a spit to his and L'Oria's face. He had filled the empty void with life, with purpose, with potential for all. Then a god caring for no one but her own self came along and brought imbalance to the world with her perverted plants for the sake of what? Sleep?

Mawlock commanded some of his angels to go and awaken any who had fallen asleep as a result of the pollen that had not yet been awoken by any of the other gods. With immense fear and haste, several angels went and began working. The angered god left and approached L'Oria in his new, more unstable form as she sent away his gift to search for the god of sleep.

L'Oria glanced away from the sky to face the new presence with burning eyes. They didn't bother trying to conceal their anguish at the sight of Mawlock; it only sharpened into something noble and dangerous. The goddess mournfully brushed the edge of the stone dragon with fiery fingers as the God of Order spoke, though appreciation burned in her at his words.

"I know of where the god resides... You have my condolences." He put a hand on her shoulder, patting it before turning his head to look in the direction of where Sigh had gone. "Would you follow me to her?"

''Thank you.'' She murmured, eyes flitting away as Mawlock patted her shoulder. She didn't want the others to see her in her mourning state, of course, even if it looked like raging fury to all but her. L'Oria was taken back by the god's own rage, though. 'I suppose it makes sense,' they mused darkly, clenching a flaming fist, 'How would one call themselves a god of law, if they let selfishness and destruction rule?' Order and righteousness seemed to emit from Mawlock like a suffocating blanket, more so now than ever. It collided and danced with the roaring chaos she emitted herself, making the area around the two almost unbearable.

''Very well, then.'' L'Oria responded sharply to Mawlock's request, unable to help the anger that seeped into his tone. The roars of newborn dragons thundered in the distance as they too mourned the loss of their ancestor, and the small, kitten-like griffin let out a startled chirp from the far branch it was nestled on. ''Let's pay The One Who Sleeps a visit.''

Mawlock led the way, walking with L'Oria and leaving a burning trail behind them as chaos and order raged around the two in their purest form. The two didn't spend long traveling before coming upon the bed of Sigh. Mawlock clapped his hands together, causing a thunderous shockwave to shake the area so violently the ground below them cracked. "WAKE UP!"​

 

[Tetro]

​

Kail stiffened and tensed all the muscles in her body when Indily took hold of her hand. Indily's words made Kail feel warm and nervous. To hear such praise from one of the great gods. Kail turned her head to the side, puffing her pipe in a very futile attempt to hide a flustered smile as her face began to feel hot. She didn't know how to respond, her mind going crazy with questions and doubts. When Indily studied Kail as she had done earlier her gaze met the ground. Only after Indily was done did Kail dare look back up to the god. "W-What exactly," she stuttered, trying to keep herself composed, "would us being close look like? How would a servant like me become close to a god like yourself?" She shifted her weight, puffing away nervously. Kail had seen the gods give each other gifts. Is that what Indily meant? Kail couldn't shake away this feeling of warmth that had grown inside of her. It was new and exciting and scary all at the same time.

indily giggled softly. "Don't put me on such a high pedestal, my dear. I am just like you, if not lesser than. You are destined to be much more important than I will ever amount to." She put her hand on the side of Kail's face and stroked her thumb across her cheek. Her skin was very soft and she sighed at the feeling. Subconsciously, Indily leaned in, now they were only inches apart. She gazed into Kail's beautiful eyes and Indily's face went a bit red. She stroked her other hand through Kail's hair as she gazed into her eyes. She was so beautiful and soft...so sweet and caring...just, perfect. Indily knew what she was feeling. she knew that she wanted to be with Kail. She was everything she needed and more...

Kail's eyes widened at Indily's words. More important? Before Kail could protest, Indily put one hand on Kail's face and the other through her hair. Kail's legs felt weak, and standing seemed almost impossible. She stared at Indily, horrified at how close they were. Kail wasn't even sure if she was allowed to touch the gods. What was she supposed to do now? Just stand there? Run away? Fall to the ground and bow? Kail thought back to the times she had seen others in situations like this; mortals who would hold and touch and kiss one another. Kail didn't have anything to gift Indily, as the other gods did for each other, so she instead leaned forward, kissing the god softly.

Indily was shocked, but she kissed her back. "My love, you complete me." Indily smiled softly and kissed Kail again gently and sweetly. She wrapped her arms around Kail, and gave the other a hug. Surprisingly, tears welled up in her eyes. "My heart swells at your presence and my energy intertwines with your own, dear. As a mortal would say, I love you." Tears streamed down Indily's face and she tightened her embrace on Kail.

Kail had dropped her pipe and enjoyed the affectionate moment the two shared. Indily's words were like honey, and all of Kail's worries washed away while the two held one another. She felt complete. She felt loved. Kail didn't mind however much time passed, she held onto her beloved without worry.

Written in collaboration with: melancholy_mushrooms

 

[Damafaud]

Rude Awakening

Deity of Sleep
​

Gentle Repose​

A rude awakening.

Roaring noise that shook the very frame her bed lied on. Sigh buried her head deeper under her blanket with a frown. All she wanted was to sleep, yet the world seemed to conspire against her one and only wish. Unwillingly, she peeled her heavy eyes open.

Two winged gods. Wings again. She started to really hate wings. Noise, wings brought with them the ability to fly and noise. The gentle world around her twisted and cracked. Sigh threw a pillow at the earth, returning it to sleep. The cracks stopped. The field of flower retained its quiet. But still, Sigh frowned again. Something had been eating her flowers. Refusing her gift of sleep... ah, whatever. The Noisy Ones in front of her was more important. If some gods didn't like her gift for the mortals, whatever.

"Noisy Ones, I remember you creating a realm above the world... and I don't recall you at all." Her voice sighed like the softest wind on a silent lake, delivered quietly to the ears of the two Gods, Mawlock and L'Oria both. Sigh snuggled deeper into her bed, hugging a bolster with her naked arms. Talking... was tiring. She sighed again, lamenting fate and life.

"Why have you disturbed my sleep?"

Interaction: Tetro Beeihu
Mention: -

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Kianu, Goddess of Ice, Winter, Hunt, and Preservation

Bihorn was a…big…baby.

Nonetheless, his birth brought joy and, in a way, “warmth” to Everfrost Castle. Since he was the child of her servants, Kianu allowed the babe to be raised in her divine construct made of Eternal Ice, free from the touches of death and other atrocities that beseeched the mortal realm. Loved by his parents and doted on by his aunts, Bihorn grew up strong, wise, and big. It was the first time she’d seen Sey act as a mother. The pale haired Ice Maiden taught Bihorn many things: the language of the gods, how to hunt for food, how to wield weapons, how to wield the magic of the Ice. Most of all, Sey taught her son to love and respect Winter.

It was also this time, that Kianu made other servants to tend to Everfrost while her messengers delivered her frost to the new world with every passing ‘season’: Garguntyr, to guard her treasury, and Winter Elves, to do all other menial tasks. As for Kianu, she continued to hunt, adding new beasts to her hunting grounds as she did so. For every brave (or foolhardy) adventurer that wandered into the Frostlands and failed her tests—regardless of the species—, the Winter Queen either let the realm of the dead take their soul or claim it for herself…depending on whether she liked the soul or not. Preserving their spirits in ice, the goddess would then give them new life, as a new beast, on one of her glacial islands.

Maintaining a hunting ground was difficult work, after all, and it was easier to recycle old souls than create an entirely new creature from scratch. The Yeti. The Snow Serpent. The Ice Wyvern. They all had different temperatures in which they liked to live. Kianu would sometimes take Bihorn hunting with her as well and, though he was a little clumsy, he wasn’t by any means bad at it. She enjoyed the company. However, all things must come to an end and once he was old enough to defend himself, it was time for him to leave the protection of Everfrost’s icy walls and start his own family.

“Once you leave, Bihorn, I will not let you return,” The Winter Queen said from atop her throne. “Death will reach you as it does all mortal creatures living in these frozen lands and you will be tested like the rest. Do you still wish to go?”

“Yes, My Queen—Mother of Ice,” The giant knelt. “I, Bihorn, son of Bijorn, am ready.”

Kianu nodded. “Very well. I will give you three gifts before you go: a mountain range filled with game for you live, a wife made in your image, and a weapon of your choice from my treasury. The rest of your life I leave to you.”

“You are too kind, your Grace.”

And so Bihorn left Everfrost and moved to what would be named Giants’ Ridge with his new wife. From her mirror of ice, Kianu watched as Bihorn carved himself a home and fathered children, his children birthing their own children, until a village of giants appeared on the Frostlands with Bihorn being their leader. Frost Giants lived long lives, but they weren’t as prolific as other mortals because of this. Their large size made them the one of the strongest mortal creatures in the Frostlands, but it also meant they required more to feed, so the giants weren’t without troubles. Fights weren’t uncommon. Proud warriors that they were, they eventually learned to compromise with Bihorn’s wisdom. Meats preserved in Ice as their numbers grew. Furs/Hide used for clothing. Wyverns and other animals domesticated. They mined the ice and rocks for ore to build their weapons…though their race could twist a bear’s neck with ease…so it didn’t really take them long to climb to the top of the Frostland’s foodchain. Through all of that, they never forgot to pay tribute to the Winter as Bihorn taught them and so they never lost the blessings of the Mother of Ice. Statues and shrines of the Winter goddess and their Ice Maiden ancestors were built in icy caverns, history recorded on walls in the language of the gods…so as even after Bihorn died and Sey wept…the giants did not forget their roots.

Or, at least, the Priests of the Frost Giants never did.

Yet time changed all things and the higher one climbed, the easier it was to be blinded by pride and arrogance. Azorf was the largest of the Frost Giants. Azorf the Undefeated. Azorf the Mountain of the Frostlands. That same Azorf ran for his dear life through a blindingly white blizzard, panting and heaving as the bearded giant dragged his frozen leg through the snow. Yet Azorf knew he couldn’t stop. The moment he did, he was dead.

“You can’t escape~” A feminine voice giggled, echoing from some unknown location.

“You’ve been a bad, bad boy, Azorf.”

“It’s time for your punishment!” A spear of iced pierced straight through his non-frozen leg, causing the monstrous giant to tumble. “Oooo, I got him! Let’s aim for the heart next!”

“Stop Ysmir. Lady Kianu is here.”

Azorf sighed in relief as the blizzard died and the three ice dieties he’d only heard in stories bowed to an approaching ethereal figure with snow white hair and cold golden eyes. The frost giant recognized her instantly (as her statues were located all throughout Giant’s Ridge) and scrambled to his knees before the much smaller goddess. “P-please s-s-spare me! I didn’t mean it!”

“Didn’t mean it?” Ysmir hissed, glaring furiously at the much larger figure. “You smashed her majesty’s shrine, you big oaf! If I—”

Kianu held her hand up to stop Ysmir from continuing without looking way from the trembling frost giant. “Why should I? I do not dislike strength, Azorf son of Kragg, but you’ve misused yours.”

Bullying the giants that were smaller than him. Killing for pleasure, rather than food. Azorf had bloodied her pure white lands more than any other creature on the Frostlands yet. However, it was Azorf's smashing of her shrine, injuring a priestess Kianu rather liked, in an attempt to steal the tributes offered to her that had been the last straw. Kianu did not like interfering with mortal lives, but even her patience had its limits.

“I-I’ll pay ye back! I’ll gift ye with the rarest, and purest jewels the Frostlands hafta offer!”

“...How many?”

“As many as the strands of hair on ma face,” Azorf relaxed when he saw the goddess was interested in his offer.

Kianu’s lips quirked upward, but her eyes remained cold. “Do you think you can fool a goddess?”

Azorf stiffened.

“But I’m feeling merciful today. I will keep you to your promise, Azorf. If you break it, you die. If you shave, you die. If you cannot complete your promise in your lifetime, your descendants will complete it in your stead or meet the same fate. Oh, and since you seem to take great pride in your size…” Kianu snapped her finger.

Azorf’s eyes widened in horror as his body warped and shrunk until the once giant was forced to look up to meet the Winter Queen’s eyes.

“I will take that away from you and your descendants as well.” Kianu turned away, summoning the gates of Everfrost Castle with a wave of her hand and stepping through.

The three Ice Maidens followed, Ysmir sticking her tongue out at Azorf. “Get to work, Dwarf!”

Spoiler: Azorf, the First Snow Dwarf

 

[seasonedcat]

Large goops of black goo fell from their eyes and splashed on the ground. As they cried their tears soaked into the soil and the life around them soon withered away. Why could they do no good? They did not understand. They looked just like their kin but they could not be like them. What was the difference? Were they simply just evil in every inch of themself? Were they just here to be the villain? The enemy in the story that is to be vanquished?

Admist their tears a voice spoke, causing them to jump, frantically looking for the source. They blinked up at the breathtaking beast before them, a few tears still falling down their face as they stared. The beast spoke and asked for a response. They glanced at the beasts mouth for a long momment. Before putting on a face of concentration and tore a hole in their face, a mouth. Their mouth was created with much effort, their jaw pulling until it created it. It worked as it should but strings of sludge still connected from the top to bottom and the edges of their mouth were jagged and uneven.

"n-name? Me no own?" They spoke uncertain, their words struggling to come out and sounded slightly gurgled. They shuffled to their feet, whipping away the tears that stuck in their eyes as they nervously glanced up at them, "Does you own the name?" They asked the other, definitely not confusing the for tthy. They were much too short compared to the other and struggled to stare up at them without their sludge body falling over. Seeing the others antlers up close couldn't help but make them even happier they chose that as the part they took from them, their beauty even superior now that they could truly see it. Were the two of them really that different? They wonder what they would have to change to be able to be the same? When they stand across from eachother like this it is almost easy for them to forget the difference.
Juju

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Zexzad
interaction: Tetro​

the warp realm was filled with reflections of the gods one in particular he found most amusing the soulweaver a huge horrific looking insectoid entity that represent dear old mawlock, it sat for a moment and then realised that mayhaps another gift to his dear brother would be suitable the man judge and jury but lacked a proper executioner what would be more befitting then the twisted reflection of mawlock? Snatching up four of the creatures the god of change bound there will to something else a particular lesser god. specifically Alysia, finding the lesser deity as they towered over them in its unfathomable form. “A gift for you these four entities.. use them well the soul weaver even name them of you want” the deity explained cryptically before leaving the gifts eacj one bowed “we serve you“ they all said in unison.

 

[Pilgrim59]

Krajowa
Dominion of the Sea
Interactions: Jasno
Mentions: N/A​

When Syrion offered to return the favor with a gift by their own hands, the Sea Goddess simply smile, fluttering her hand to refuse such a notion. It was only then, did the goddess realized, she did not have a projection that Syrion and his creations possessed. Rather, she had been so involved in physical creations of lifeforms out at sea, that she had forsaken the most important detail of all - the projection of the self via a melodious form. Unlike the sea, where her works and their subsequent derivatives had little needs for these noisy forms of words, the mainland had their own approach. Even long before she took form, Krajowa had spent an eternity beyond the unknown, for her voice was of little use. Forever in solitude, drifting beyond the aetherial arrays. With the changing times, perhaps the goddess must attend to these immediate needs. Krajowa took a sharp breath, as she adjusted her hair slightly before pondering upon Syrion's question with her fingertips brushing against her delicate lips.

Meanwhile the Ironsides frolicked in response to Syrion's curiosity. They would form circles, stacking stones upon stones to create a miniature obelisk, while snipping away at the wilted plants. Krajowa simply shrugged at the end.

"Merfolk, they shall be called. Their human tongue shall be their earthly gift. Their nautical refuge shall be their haven. One cannot be all, as Order would have it. Thus, in your image, they shall bloom as the arbitrator of both worlds." she finally spoke for the first time since Creation. Krajowa then eyed Syrion intently, as the man continued to eye her crustacean companions. The goddess simply extended her hand, as an Ironside boarded her palm without hesitation. Within her grasp, she presented Syrion the metal-shelled crab.

"Ironsides distributes essence of growth. Their taste are..." the goddess remarked, mentioning how these non-complex decomposers are also sensible sweepers of water sources. Krajowa eyed the crab in her hand, of which the creature widened its eyes in anticipatory horror. "...less than desirable." she concluded, patting the Ironside in her hand softly, before returning them to their kin. She then yawns, stretching her hand about nonchalantly. Perhaps it was better for the Sea Goddess to provide for in action rather than with words.

Almost as if on instinct, she got up from the cushion and procured for herself a pot that was recently put together by the Ironsides. The latter began to snip series of algae and processed them with adjusted brine. She took her time peeling fresh shrimps and dousing them in citrus. After a combination of various ingredients were placed in the boiling pot, Krajowa stirred it gently. Emulating what she learnt from the humans, along with her personal innovations, the goddess managed to conjure forth a bowl of spicy seafood soup. Complemented by herbs and hint of coconut juice perforating the area. An unnamed recipe she hoped the God of Beauty would appreciate. One that she would perhaps continue to develop as the Azure Realm's signature offer.

"Try, Syrion-kai." she offered them, as the Ironsides began to clean up their operation. Krajowa then leaned forward, resting her drowsy countenance upon her palms. "Is it to your liking?" she added, tilting her head curiously.

 

[Juju]

Vitis Gurthu

Interacting with: seasonedcat
Mention: Tetro jmann Beeihu Damafaud

Vitis Gurthu watched the newest disease spread into the surrounding flowers and trees, seeing the water swell within them. They leaned their head down, brushing their muzzle against a bloated leaf. A change in the balance of this place and yet... these diseased plants would provide water for those that resisted the blight. Animals would find ample water in places where it was trapped within the soil. Through strife, the forest would only grow stronger.

"How curious. What blossoms will come of such seeds?" they murmured. 'yo this shit's bussin.'

Returning their attention to the newborn god, Vitis waited for them to form a mouth. It seemed that manifesting into a solid form was difficult for this god. Perhaps it was the ambiguity of its own domain? Needless of this, the stag was surprised when the god did not know of its own name. Such a thing was inherent in every god they had met, including themself. A god's name was as natural to them as the domain they commanded. Then again, this strange god seemed to be unable to control themself.

"One lacks a name? Hmm..."The great stag thought for a moment, listening to the sounds of dead leaves in the wind. "This one cannot bestow upon thee a true name, for that is not something for one to give. However... this one can give you something to hold onto until thou remembers thy name." 'oh... you dont have a name?' *snort of poorly hidden laughter*' -- 'due to copyright infringement, I cannot legally give you a name. However, I can give you an ugly nick name!'

"...Dream's End. For one's action against the sleeping blight. May it serve you well." The stag seemed satisfied, and hoped the new god would be too. 'Here is a super cryptic name I just made up'

They then turned their head to the sky. The heavens trembled with fury, the source Mawlock. For the third time in their existence, they felt an unease. Somewhere closer, another god cried out in anguish. This came directly after the god of death's announcement, giving the stag a clue as to what was the matter. As for Mawlock, not so much. "A time of great change is upon us. Though for better or worse remains to be seen." Things are about to get spicy. @_@ Better get ready for more damage control... XwX'

Vitis rounded on the budding god of war, "Come, walk with me. If thou wishes to learn of restraint, perhaps this one may act as teacher." 'Come, child. I know de whey'

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Zexzad
Interaction: QuirkyAngel​

As was such with the god of change they had quickly become bored onxe more a titanic claw tapping gently against a mountain in thought gaze turned northward as it had spotted somewhere of interest there was a land of pure white... a boring stagnet place in desperate need of the god of changes twisted touch. Moving in the unfathomable way i did it titanic form simply appeared within the snowy white landscape maw frowning somehow as it's disappointment was immeasurable and it's day was now ruined. Too bland too unchanging too cold hmmm this could be easily fixed through a visit with the offending sibling was In order. This place could use ab ice breaker and not just any ice breaker a giant monsterous insectoid becuse that seems antithetical to the cold one limb stretched out to grab a centipied swiftly growing it to the size of several bears stacked up on one another then gifting it the ability to produce such intense heat it would melt easily through snow and steel it's slime growing With intense heat. "Perfect little creature now ruin along and cut channels in the ice bring change to this dull place.

With that out of the way the next task was to speak to the goddess here kianu her realm was easy enough to find some big Icy castle but instead of phasing into the place like before with mawlock the god felt it neccesary to walk in deciding the most amusing course of action was to mimic in appearance these "ice maidens" resulting in the titanic god becoming much smaller and looking like a combo of all three ice maidens in features... before proceeding to kick the ice palances doors off there hinges and walk in like it owned the place. Eventually finding the goddess kianu. "Aaah you muste be kianu I just say I'm rather disappointed in you" the deity spoke in many voices adding a condescending tisk tisk "do not worry though iV fixed your stagnet land with a new beast of fire I'm sure you won't mind yes? Or are you going to destroy them and maKe me start over"

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Kianu, Goddess of Ice, Winter, Hunt, and Preservation

Everfrost was much bigger on the inside than the outside. It was the realm of a god, after all, and gods came in all shapes and sizes. Big ones. Small ones. Oldly shaped ones. At the very least, the audience room was big enough to hold an army of giants. The goddess was still in the process of sculpting more rooms as well. Doors that led to all sorts of places, beyond what could be expected of the average castle—not that it didn’t have your regular castle furnishings: The Frozen Great Hall, the ice-cold bedchambers, frigid kitchens, etc. Truly, only a creature born of Ice—or given her blessing—could enjoy the hospitality of her frozen realm.

Seated on her throne in Everfrost, Kianu had been calmly sipping the ice-cold tea prepared for her by the Winter Elves when she felt the presence of another god step into the Frostlands. Snow was her gift to the new world, after all, the goddess of winter could naturally sense the presence of whatever her powers touched—especially snow that was so close its source.

Holding her hand up to stop Ysmir from talking, Kianu tilted her head. “Another god approaches.”

Ysmir blinked. “Wha—? Really?”

Then, as if on cue, the doors to her throne room crashed down, broken by a monstrously disfigured version of her Ice Maidens. The god was followed her ice golems that tried to stop him—not that she could blame them for failing to stop a deity—and more that surrounded him on Bijorn’s order. Sey’s husband stood like a massive ice statue behind the throne of his queen, ready to hammer down on the infidel intruding Everfrost at her order.

Kianu didn’t give the order. On the contrary, she waved her Ice Golems to back down. The god’s rudeness irked her…but so did finding out Mawlock had his angels spying on her. On her. A fellow god. She wasn’t one of his creations—or even a mortal—for him the God of Law and Order to judge. Kianu’s grip on her tea cup tightened and the temperature of the room decreased drastically such that even the tea the Winter Elves spelled to remain liquid—despite their subzero surroundings—started to freeze over. Kianu let out a sigh. Getting angry over something so trivial and risking cracks into the mortal realm wasn’t very queen-like at all. Besides, feeling the angels’ eyes on her made it all that much easier for the huntress to track down Mawlock’s own realm. If he wanted to spy on her, she had no qualms about doing the same.

Kianu handed the tea cup to Ysmir, who’d bit her tongue to avoid commenting on the ghastly version of herself and her sisters that the god presented himself as, but the Ice Maiden’s expression of horror and disgust was as plain as day—especially when the god started speaking. The tongue biting didn’t hold. “How rude! I’ll have you know that her majesty made these lands absolutely beautiful and comfortable for beings like u—”

“Ysmir,” Narrowing her eyes at one of her first creations, who immediately went silent in response, Kianu directed her cold gaze towards the disrespectful god. One of the major gods…as powerful as her from what she could tell. Even in his guise, she, with her divine sight, could see his true form as clear as day. “You’re…that monster god…” She’d seen him a couple of times, but didn’t know his name…not that she cared very much about other gods in the first place. If he wasn’t going to show her respect, then she didn’t feel obligated to do the same. Respect, for her, had to be earned. “If you cannot appreciate the beauty that I’ve made of the Frostlands, then it’s your loss Disrespectful One. I’ve as much right to add my own touch to this world as any other god.”

She didn’t imagine many gods would like her cold in the first place—definitely not gods of spring and heat—which was why she moved North in the first place. Kianu loved the cold she'd been surrounded in when she was born and all the beings she made in the cold. Her first 'friends'.

A crystal of ice appeared in the palm of her hand, which then expanded to form a mirror that reflected the mortal realm, as she watched ‘fire beast’ that the disrespectful god spoke of glide through the snow, melting what it touched into puddles of water. More water for the living creatures she supposed. However, so long as she still existed and remained in reach of the planet, snow would continue to fall on the lands that she promised everlasting winter. Water would eventually harden to ice as the periods of extreme cold struck—Frostland winters were much, much harder than the bit of cold that she graced some other locations in the world. One creature of heat wasn’t enough to strongly influence the infinitely and forever cold biome she produced. Even if it reproduced, it would only be food for the ice wyverns that roamed the skies and the 20-30ft Frost Giants that tamed them. Azorf had been 50 feet tall. The insectoid didn’t look any bigger than the Snow Serpent that lived buried under the snow either. Creatures that had little to eat would eat anything when hungry—especially with the god of disease and famine that had been born to her world.

Survival of the fittest.

Was the god being kind to the creatures of the Frostlands? Was he giving his own blessing to Sey’s descendants? If they were smart, they’d make use of the slime it produced for their own ends—a test of wisdom then? Kianu raised her brow, not really understanding the other god's purpose.

“If your beast of fire is mortal and can pass my test then, it can live in the Frostlands.” A fire creature living in a land that was forever cold was very likely to have its flames put out. “However, if is immortal like us, then it will be taken into my castle.” Her divine ice wouldn’t melt unless it was the power of a god itself. Even then, that was arguable as she didn’t consider her cold—when used at its max—to be any less than the heat produced by other gods. “I will not have the immortal creations of other gods ruin my test for mortals no matter what change you desire, Disrespectful Deity. Ysmir!”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Gather your sisters and prepare to test the new species this god has brought to our lands. If it cannot die, bring it to me.”

Ysmir saluted, icy winds surrounding her Kianu’s messenger disappeared to do as told. A flick of a wrist later and a chair of ice appeared behind the gruesome deity. She then summoned the Winter Elves to tend to the door…as well as any other needs the god may have. Kianu wasn’t the nicest goddess around, but she wouldn’t have anyone call her terrible host…even if that someone was an uninvited guest. “You may sit while we watch the show…or stand if you wish.”

It didn’t really matter to her. Kianu’s fitted to the mirror that reflected the mortal realm, watching as a raging blizzard struck the creature whose slime produced intense heat, massive amounts of snow burying the large creature like an avalanche. Steam rose. For every bit of snow it managed to melt, more, and more, piled on top of it as spears of ice appeared in the sky and pierced the insectoid’s flesh, infecting it with a bitter cold that cooled the slime it produced and started to slowly freeze the creature from the inside out—a suitable test for a create of that size whose body produced such intense heat enough to melt steel. She wanted to see its will to live...if it lived.

That was strength in Kianu's eyes - not the strength of a god or an immortal, but the strength of a soul.

Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

zexzad
interaction: QuirkyAngel​

”monster is but a matter of perspective and sigh is often deceiving“ the god commented with a almost cocky grin upon there face turning to the ice maiden’d obvious horror having just spoken out on abject disgust over the gods comments. ”again but a matter of perspectives such thing can and will change its inevitable really“ The god chuckled once more to itself. “and I can very well appricate such a place but what I can not tolerate is stagnation and these frostlands are by far the most stagnant place iv seen, prehaps I should do well to introduce myself, I am Zexzad“ they’d give and exaggerated bow.

however the deities interested with peaked when kianu mentioned a test for zexzads beast, “ooh a test an trial now that’s interesting perhaps you are as dull as first glance made it seem.“ they’d comment sounding more cheerful now. “Trust me I would not make in immortal no sport in that oh no but I’m sure you will it rather interesting.“ zexzad added Seemingly fainting a offended gasp Before taking a seat. “now I suppose the test shall begin yes oh this should be good”
—————-
the fire beast had been minding its own business when it had suddenly become buried in snow.. melting it as it would the beast simply swam through It as if it where water yet more snow kept piling leaving the beast somewhat confused surly it should have surfaced by Now? Then the bitter cold struck the slime that gave the creature its immense heat begin to freeze it almost instinctively it ramped up its internal heating to greater heights as to stave off this attack forcing a lot of it to its rear. The intensive and sudden shift in heat caused the sudden vaporisation of the snow under it launching the beast into the air and out of the avalanche it’s large sail like structures slowing its fall somewhat unfortunatly for a passing frost wyvern who had thought this flailing creature an easy meal had found itself on the receiving end of the falling creature super heated bite the jaws slicing into the wyvern’s flesh like a hot knife through butter, the would cauterising instantly so no blood ruined the white landscape as the beast and the wyvern smashed down into Snow disappearing beneath the snow hardly a trace as the snow filled in around it as it quietly devoured its pray to fuel its much more intensive heat to contuie to stave off the cold.. mayhaps it would succumb eventually but for now had survived.
—————
Zexzad grinned at kianu seeing as there creature hadn’t Instantly dropped dead and chuckled in amusement. “Fun creature yes? Prehaps I should name it after one of your ice maidens a fitting idea don’t you think?”

 

[pinewoodpine]

Runa

Domains: Language, Literature, Runes

Spoiler

Interact: Everyone

Mention: Beeihu , Pilgrim59 , mewmilk



In the Beginning, there was nothing. Then, there was the Word. And the Word was made whole. However, the Word could not see. The Word could only feel. The World felt the throbbing heart of the cosmos. The chilling coldness of the void. The surge of divine powers. The creation of worlds. But the Word knew her purpose, and it was not yet her time. However, preparations needed to be made for what was to be.

Then out from Void, the Word took form. There was no glistening light, there was no warping of space, there were no burning flames. She simply appeared from the nothingness, as if she had always meant to be there, sitting on a throne of nothingness. The other gods were all long gone, pursuing their own purposes.

As they should be.

And so should she, for her Time had come.

She cast her gaze upon the world before her, pushing her finger by her lips. A single, toneless word was muttered, and the gift of Understanding and Comprehension was bestowed upon the world. Each syllable now contained Meaning and Potential. Each scar upon the stones now carried Weight. A gift for all to communicate and understand one another.

Language.

If words could be spoken, and so they must be able to be recorded. The Word then made her next step as a collection of empty pages formed in her hands, and the first runes and letters were written. They were entirely meaningless, but the Word gave them meanings as she took inspiration from the creations of her brothers and sisters.

The winds and fires of L’Oria, the oceans of Krajowa, the earth of Caradhim…

Out from the first Rune, the four elemental Runes were born. Then the pages began to fill themselves with even more Runes of power. Some corresponded to a fellow godling, some corresponded to aspects without masters, and some corresponded to things that were yet to be created. They shall be reminders of the powers of the gods that had created this world, as it was written unto her by her Creator.

She spoke, her words reverbed through the very fabric of realities. They reached to those that they were intended to but became silent to those that were not.

“Hail, brothers, and sisters. I bear you gifts from the great beyond. May your name be kept in remembrance forever and evermore in accordance with the fields you plow. I hereby swear upon my domains that I shall dutifully execute my duties so that your names will be forever upheld in your honor.”

From then onward, the gifts of Runes and the written words had been sown into the world. Waiting only to be discovered and invoked.

The Word then turned her gaze away from the world. She needed somewhere she could work uninterrupted. To preserve all things that were written by mortals and divines alike. An archive. A library. Yes. She believed those were the words that had been etched into her divine soul. However, it must not be a place that mortals could reach, for they were meant only for the eyes of the Divine.

Yes.

An interstice between spaces.

Too dangerous for mortals, but a mere inconvenience for the gods.

The Word took a step forward and appeared in the gap between the Material World and the infinite blackness of the Void. The Word uttered a word and a gateway appeared before her. The gateway had the appearance of a glass pane held by a simple, metallic frame with a silver sheen. However, to those that were permitted to enter, it would reveal a whole new world once they walked through the glass.

Walking through the pane, one would enter a hall surrounded by mostly empty bookcases. Yes, indeed. Few written works had been created, but more would appear in time. And a copy of their work would remain here to be archived as a remembrance of their diligence. The Word appeared in the hall of the Eternal Archive.

Then, there was a tug in her heart.

The first part of her duty had ended, and her long watch had only begun. She must prepare for visitors to this place. But first, she would need a name.

And she stared at the tome in her hand. On the cover of its page was written “The Tome of Runa.”

“I see. My name is Runa,” She muttered to herself. She turned around and fashioned a wooden table and a wooden chair with her words directly opposite the Gateway. She then had a seat, and a figure appeared next to her. The figure was an old man in a plain robe, and he sat right next to her. Parchments and Quills appeared in front of him and began to work.

The First Archivist had already been put to work, recording what was known about the creation and of the gods. He would diligently record and archive all the happenings in the world in a neutral manner, for their emotions were irrelevant. Yes. Words could be used to stir emotions. But they must be omitted if one were to gleam the truth beyond the written words.

As for Runa, the tome once again appeared before her. She began to put her thoughts into words, and continue completing her work.

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Kianu, Goddess of Ice, Winter, Hunt, and Preservation

Kianu looked back at the deity that still donned the grotesque combination of all three Ice Maidens, an eyebrow arched, before replying in a slightly amused, yet firm tone. “I hope you aren’t insulting my girls, Zexzad.”

She wasn’t the type of goddess to take insults to those she cared for lying down, whether it was from another god or otherwise. The sisters of ice were the messengers that represented her in the new world. Her servants. Her retainers. Her companions. To insult them, was to insult her—in her own castle no less. Yet…she didn’t know the other god’s purpose for naming his creation after them either, so she opted to believe not. Gaze returning to the insectoid that was devouring the Ice Wyvern in order to live, she replied simply. “Your creature certainly is vicious…but it did well to survive.” Escaping the snowy clutches of her Ice Maidens, even if only for a moment, was an impressive feat for any living creature. They were the hunters she trained herself, after all.

“Sey. Falma. Ysmir.” Voice echoing though the white flakes that descended upon the mortal realm, the winter goddess called her messengers before they could continue the chase. To go any further would pass the point of a test and enter the realm of downright bullying. Hunting season wasn’t until the next ‘winter’…and it wasn’t as if the creature had done anything to deserve her ire. “What do think?”

They were the ones that administered the test, after all, and they’d been closer. One by one, the girls appeared in her throne room—in the order that they were called—and knelt on one knee before their goddess.

“It reacts quickly to change and the heat it produces is strong. It shouldn’t have any problem living and adapting to the severe climate of the Frostlands.” (Sey)

“The use of steam to escape the blizzard was clever,” (Falma)

“Tch, I would’ve gotten it on my next shot,” (Ysmir)

Kianu nodded. She’d also seen the will to live and fight within tough conditions, which was the main requirement for surviving in her ever-cold lands. Blizzards. Avalanches. A bitter cold that would consume it once its weakness was exposed. The girls had only given it taste of what the winters of the Frostlands were like. Kianu glanced at Zexzad. “It passes. Whether it lives long enough to reproduce in the Frostlands or moves to a new area to inhabit would depend on its own ability to survive.” She didn’t really interfere with the lives of mortal creations except to hunt come winter…or whenever she felt like it. Some winters were long. Some winters were short. It wasn’t like she’d ever sat down and discussed with other gods how long winters should be, so the temperatures from the Frostlands ranged wildly from cold, to very cold, to deathly cold, to ‘Why did I ever come to the Frostlands’ cold. The weather in the mortal realm was as unpredictable as her mood(and the storm god’s)…though it was only in the Frostlands (the land closest to her realm) where ice rained instead of water. Only the species that were strong and resilient could live and adapt in the Frostlands.

Once the giants found the dead wyvern, the children of Bihorn, would likely understand that a new foreign predator had entered their midst. Famine. Disease. Conflicts. How mortals handled themselves in the face of new challenges was up to them. Kianu didn’t intend to interfere…though she knew Sey favored the frost giants. Kianu, to a degree, did as well. “I do not care what you call your creature, nor do I understand your interest in my Ice Maidens, but I would rather you didn't name it after my messengers as that would get confusing. Sey, Falma, and Ysmir” Kianu listed their names from left to right as they stood. "are the only 3 I've brought with me from Winterdale and the ones I've granted my authority to bring frost to this still unnamed planet."

"That's right, we're special!" (Ysmir)

"I don't mind the lil' darling being named after me~" (Sey)

"Hush, Sisters. Her majesty is still talking." (Falma)

Kianu sighed, ignoring the antics of the ladies she'd brought with her from her first castle—a palace she’d made when she’d first been born into a world of nothingness and was just starting to learn about her powers. Placed upon a giant rock of ice, void of life—and anything else really—it was where she first created the maidens of Ice in her likeness. Everfrost was the second castle that she’d made on a whim when she heard the voices of other beings like herself gather. Curiosity and perhaps a bit of loneliness bade her to join them…though together was yet still something she wasn’t very used to. Much easier to grab her own corner further from everyone else.

But that defeated the purposed of her joining them in the first place.

It wasn’t like Kianu disliked the things she saw on the new, still-unnamed planet. Skies. Bodies of water. Flowers. Stars. Many of the things she created—including the ice wyverns—were simply made based on the images already designed by other gods. When making things to hunt (and eventually kill), it was easier to copy the designs of other gods than coming up with something new from scratch. Many gods liked making things in their likeness. Therefore, it was really no surprised to Kianu that one of Zexzad’s creations would…resemble…him somewhat; An insect that produced its own heat; Certainly a trait that would allow it to live in the Frostlands, no different from furs growing longer or scales turning white to better hide from the Winter when she hunted. Kianu was a goddess of ice and winter. The cold would forever be her domain and she didn’t intend to change that fact. She couldn’t. Therefore, it was only the creatures born of ice, immortals, and those that could endure her frigid temperatures that could make their home in mortal land closest to her realm. “Naming aside, since you’ve made the effort to visit and even brought a new addition to my hunting grounds, you may enjoy the hospitality of Everfrost for as long as you wish. I make it my policy not to interfere with the doings of other gods. However, if you intend to make a mess of my castle—or my hunting grounds—then I must ask you leave.” By force if necessary. Since Zexzad seemed so keen on imparting his opinion of her domain, she responded likewise. “Change makes things more interesting, but stability provides comfort and the consistency for which it can safely take root.” Without creating chaos and disorder. “You say my lands are stagnant, deity of change, but I’ve seen many changes in the mortals that struggle to survive in my hunting grounds. They learn my movements. Craft shelters or bury themselves in snow to escape my blizzards. Utilize my gifts to their advantage.” Whether it was due to the Existence of Zexzad in the world or not she couldn’t say, but every new god brought about a change to the Unnamed World…just as she did. The sun. The stars. The earth. The sky. The stars. She didn’t mind them…nor any other species that could breed in a land of endless frost and white. “Perhaps your true form simply lacked the eyes to see them.”

The last line was said airily, almost jokingly, as the Winter Queen dismissed the Ice Maidens and bade her Winter Elves to bring her more ice-cold tea. Soon enough it would be time to have them collect whichever of Caradhim’s pretty rocks that Azorf was able to mine and refine—after digging through piles and piles of snow and ice in his small form. Chances are he wouldn’t be able to keep his promise in his lifetime, but that was no consequence to her. She’d simply collect his descendants…if he survived long enough to breed of course. It didn’t matter either way. The ‘Dwarf’ as Ysmir called him, would have to use his wits if he wanted to survive in the Frostlands in his small size. She doubted the frost giants would be kind to him after all the bullying he’d done either.

Tucking her snow-white hair behind her ears, Kiana brought the crystal cup to her lips and took a small, satisfying sip before speaking again. “Whichever the case, I will apologize for calling you a monster, God Zexzad,” appearance mattered little to the ice goddess and, though she had a preference for pretty things, she simply had no other word to describe Zexzad’s form. Monster had been the best thing she could come up with, though it only just occurred to her how insulting that might've sounded. Kianu crossed her legs, her ice crowned head tilted slightly. “I am also curious about what sort of change a fellow creator like yourself thinks my Frostlands might need.”

It was the first time she’d spoken to another god like herself and it wouldn’t hurt to hear him out…though whether or not she listened to his advice depended on the soundness of it. Beyond the extremely cold weather and the animals she made to hunt, it wasn’t like she actively made very many changes to the mortal lands surrounding her realm, where source of Winter resided. She’d leave that the mortals. Winter, though sometimes a bit long and sometimes a bit short, was largely consistent. The only thing Kianu really did was hunt, kill the things she didn’t like…and maybe make a large iceberg or glacial island here and there where the Frostlands met the sea.

Huntertabbysandshark3

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

zexzad
interaction: QuirkyAngel​

"Oh miss kianu I mean note an insult afterall mimicry is the highest form of flattery" Zexzad replied cheerfully. This was when Zexzad would properly sit down properly listening to the evaluation of its creation knowing full well it had designed it to suite the expectation of the seemingly cold hearted goddess. Promoting a small chuckle form zexzad. "Oh I assure you now that it had your blessing so to speak you will find it's presence valuable." Zexzad commented seemily foreshadowing something. "As for the naming prehaps your correct it would Tarnish there reputation somewhat to named after such a beast hmm" Zexzad though for a moment " the yisgramor then perfect name" they'd add gazing contented at the mortal realm below knowing full well the yisgramor was already multiplying and would find stable numbers in due time. "Oh do not worry aside form my admittedly exaggerated entrance your realm is safe. Afterall it's not much my place, morally speaking the mortal realm however is very much so." Zexzad explains stretching a little out. " as for your opinion of change prehaps your correct though I can't truly see such a thing. As for your statement of your relate not being stagnet, there only so much change to go around once they learn mortal become set in there ways and a low to improve or prehaps negate the threat all together but I can agree with you perspective is changing and prehaps my previous one was not the right perspective to appreciate your work" Zexzad considered conceding the point. Surprisingly kianu had apologized zexzads eyes widening with a bit of shock. "Oh well thank you prehaps your not as cold as you let on" Zexzad smiled it grew even more when she asked about what it might change. "Oh not much my additions has sloved the issue of those with fire magic overturning your forstlands, but prehaps a solidified essence of yourself so to speak... a gem... buried in the snow and frozen stone as a reminder for those that find it that your power primates even the depths here"

 

[Juju]

​

Sinidarr, Vitis Gurthu & Unry

~collab with moi, jmann and Solirus​

Sinidarr's storm subsided slowly as he became more confident in sustaining the Tilune. Those he marked with symbols and powerful runes became known as the Gilded Ones. Branded with his mark, they would live forever. That was the way Sinidarr designed it, at least.

Yet there was another who saw things differently.

Vitis Girthu emerged from the mountains, eyes shining like twin stars through the heavy mist. Storm rain had gathered on their pelt, falling off easily with each movement. Where these droplets landed upon the earth, new seeds sprung up. Wherever the stag's hooves touched, plants wilted.

A small thing -- a mortal -- saw the great god and ran towards a hut. Out came several others like it, yet Vitis only seemed to notice one among them. Strange markings littered their skin, strong with the scent of Sinidarr. An immortal.

With a single glance, the immortal was pinned in place. What false life had been breathed into them began to be stripped away. Fragility returned to their bones, age on their features. All those around them might have panicked, or called out to their creator, if they had not been overcome with godly power. They fell into a peaceful stupor, dazed with muddled thoughts.

Vitis called out to the stormy clouds above, their voice calm yet firm, "One sows the seeds yet does not reap? Stormchild, reveal thyself. This one requires many an answer." Translation for Soli: What do you think you're doing making life without death? Sinidarr, get your ass down here now. I just want to ☆*talk*☆

A flash of lightning that turned night to day for a second arced down and struck the Gilded One. A pulsing orb of electricity and crackling thunder formed over the mortal, from it formed the large bird Sinidarr made his avatar. He wrapped the talons of one foot around the mortal, channelling his divine energy into a surge of power. The wrinkles stopped forming valleys in their skin, their bones stopped withering to dust. Someone was trying to destroy his creation, to rid the world of a natural beauty. Sinidarr would not allow this stag to do that, even if the bookish god had warned him of this beast of fur and spite.

He shouted to the stag in a voice of anger and distress bordering on desperation, the voice coming half from the avatar and half from the booming thunder above.
“ S t o p t h i s , S t a g ! P l e a s e ! ” He hopped forward, coming low to the ground and spreading out his wings, shielding his Tilune.
“ T h e y n e e d m y p r o t e c t i o n ! ”

"Protection?" The stag closed their eyes for a moment, thinking. "Ah. Praytell, does one protect these things because they need to be kept, or because one refuses to let them go? So often may care become a cage." 'Tell me, do they need protection, or do you just refuse to let them go. such obsession can be a prison'

“ T h e y . . . ” Sinidarr faltered, he had never thought he was capable of such a lowly motivation, but it was true, “ t h e y n e e d m e , a n d I n e e d t h e m ! ”

Unphased by Sinidarr's defensive stance, Vitis took a step towards them. They remembered the crying war god, and softened their voice in understanding. "Thou looked for a soul snatched by death. This one heard thy cries. In pain, one let the end blot out the richness of a life well lived. Gaze at thine feet, see the fruits of such a life. It continues in the blood of daughters and sons." 'I heard you were looking for a dead mortal QwQ; smh ya forgettin they had a nice long life look at these kiddos'

“ I . . .” Sinidarr was lost for words. He took a step back, carefully dragging the mortal with him.

Vitis nodded their head towards the dazed mortals on the ground around them. One was a young adult while others were mere children. "When a tree falls in the forest, it makes room for new growth and nourishes the seeds of tomorrow. Death does not mark the end, but a beginning of a new form. An endless cycle. This is true immortality, not the unholy extension of a lifespan." [ITS THE CIRCLE OF LIIIIIFE!!!! ]

Sinidarr met the stag’s gaze at Aerias’ offspring, he saw her children with children of their own. Every generation knew her wisdom. Perhaps what the stag was saying was true. He had placed a piece of himself in each mortal, but he still felt each piece in the mountains, he felt part of her piece in her children, and part of their pieces in their children. A cycle, of sorts. But one piece still tugged at his heart.
“ A n d w h a t i f t h e s e e d s f a i l t o g r o w ? I c a n n o t n o t s i m p l y l e t m y T i l u n e d i s a p p e a r . ”

“When one buries a seed in the earth they may not tell if it will flourish or fade away to rot. There is only the waiting, and the faith.” The stag seemed amused, though not unkindly, “Of course, one may always tend to the garden. Nurture it, guide the vine. When winter comes, strong little saplings shall endure.” [[You’ll have to find out in the next season, but the fandom’s theories are that they’ll be in the next game]]

Sinidarr paused, tucking his wings back and standing upright. The lightning had stopped, as had the thunder. The wind was a mere breeze, though the rain was just as torrential. He thought of Aerias, he thought of her children and her grandchildren. The rest of the Tilune would one day follow her lead, and Sinidarr was not supposed to stop it. He could fight it as much as he wanted, but eventually he would need to let go. So that was what he did. His grip loosened on the Tilune until his claws dropped to the ground. His divine protection faded, and the Tilune’s overextended life came to its natural end. All over Gladwe, the Gilded Ones collapsed in their homes, static energy crackling around their families, muting any overt reaction. He could not protect them from death, but maybe just this once he would let them avoid mourning too many.

Sinidarr’s next words came only from the avatar:
“Thank you, Stag,” Sinidarr bowed slightly, before immediately regretting it and returning to his stance.

The stag dipped their head in return, “One needs no thanks, for this one did little but share words of wind and a pollen’s worth of wisdom. We gods have power in abundance, yet we are without guidance or purpose other than our own. We cling to pride and desire, to wrath and loss. Lest we blind ourselves…” U..w..U don't mention it.

The stag thought for a moment. It was a vice, was it not? One known only to these firstborn, these gods. Was it present in themself as well? They thought back to the hesitation to cull the cursed creatures, back in those sleeping blooms. How troubling. They ought to carve this piece out of themself before it made them irrational too.

“Ah, this one rambles on for far too long. Spreader of Seeds, cast your eyes to thy garden. Rejoice in the cycle anewed.” Vitis poured their power into the land, like a spring breeze. Wherever the Tilune fell, their bodies were turned into beautiful flowers. They sprung up from the earth as the dead made contact, their petals like ice and their pollen as brilliant as the glowing runes. Elsewhere, in the fields and forests, Gladwe’s harvests bloomed like never before. Before I leave, I has a present Owo

Sinidarr’s eyes lit up with the sight. Such beauty he had never thought possible. The rain lightened to soft patches, rays of light shone through the cloud cover, reflecting off the glistening grass and verdant fields. From life to death. From death came life anew. This was the natural order, it seemed. A chain he broke, and the stag mended.
“I know little of this world. It’s colour and growth amazes me still. I hope one day we might meet again, under better circumstances. Thank you for showing me a new side of life.”

Content, the stag turned away towards the east. Balance had been restored, yet somewhere in the distance the great god of order and chaos had stirred up a new storm. “It is time this one continues their wandering. Balance must be maintained, be it the will of the gods or the harvest of the land. Remember this well, Stormchild, and your little seeds will never know the bite of true winter” [[aight, imma head out. Don't mess with the balance and I wont mess with you.]]

Vitis took a step away, then stopped. “And if this one might bare one last seed of wisdom to thee…” Vitis turned their gaze back to Sinidarr, eyes like stars, “Beware the one who carries hidden knowledge in hand and void in heart. Trust him not, for he cares little of this world or of any creation in it. Even little gods of storm. He would see this place return to void and be glad of it, of this, this one is sure.” [[Void god is sus. Trust no bitch that likes to eat carpet.]]

Sinidarr recoiled slightly. The knowledgeable god had taught him much, but kept secrets. Could he trust someone like that? The stag had not yet lied to him, nor kept secrets from him. He nodded.
“I will take this to heart,” Sinidarr said, false confidence surrounding him like an ill-fitting coat. The stag — this was the wrong name. Before he could open his mouth-like beak, a new flash brought him knowledge. The Awakener. That name felt right. “Goodbye, Awakener.”

The stag made a soft sound, like the tinkling of chimes, at their anointed name. “Farewell, O’ Spreader of Seeds, until we meet again. May thy wings always catch the wind, and may the fresh scent of flowers protect thee always.” [[*minecraft level up sound* adios. don’t die out there uwu]]

Sinidarr nodded as the stag left. He could not deny their counsel was invaluable. They would make a good friend in times to come.
When they had left, Sinidarr looked down and held up his claw. Pinched between two talons was a blue mote. The same piece of creation inside the Tilune. Charged with the divine influence of two gods, the mote both crackled with electricity and ached to the touch.
Sinidarr beat his wings and flew high into the air, carving open a pocket in the cloud with a twirl of his wing. In the pocket hovered the Awakener’s seeds he was tasked with spreading. Sinidarr pushed the mote into the seed cluster to hover on the same spiralling wind. A new item for his collection, a new memory of the gods he had met. With each memory came the experience he would share with all the Tilune. He would do as the Awakener said; guide the vine.

---

Elsewhere...“It is not wise to speak ill of others both when you know none the better or when you speak to them behind their own back Vitis” [[Don’t talk smack behind others backs yo, very uncool bro]] A voice spoke behind the great stag.

The stag’s stride slowed for a moment, head tilted, but they did not stop. “It would seem the wind carries words far, or perhaps mongers of secrets prefer the shade. One misunderstands. This one speaks only the truths laid before them. Pray tell, should this one lack the truth, then thou would surely lay it to bare?” Vitis Gurthu did turn around this time, standing elegantly among snowy mountain grass. Their eyes held a steady intensity, though not enough to be harsh. “Doth one deny this one’s claims then, Void Heart? Does one not desire the void whence they came?” [[oh, so you're approaching me? I only tell the truth i've seen. If it's incorrect, please enlighten me uwu. Am I not correct that you’d desire void]]

The form Unry appeared in was similar to the original yet he lacked the book he carried. He moved his hand to his chin and paused before answering, “the so-called truth laid before thee has seemingly fallen under a misinterpretation. I am part of the void or perhaps am the void… but the void is but a foundation of nothing in which it has allowed everything else to exist, the things brought in a way are beautiful and filled with possibilities that I wish to observe, yet do not take my inaction as me wanting everything to return as it was, I merely wish to allow it to evolve without my influence… though I cannot resist myself with… some things” Unry looked up at the stars before looking back at Vitis, “... did these thoughts… come from a fear of the void?” [[Don’t believe everything you read on facebook, kid. I don’t want to touch a perfectly good world so I just leave it there although I occasionally create billions of stars… don’t tell me you’re afraid of nothing?]]

"It can be said that knowledge without action is as useless as hoarding seeds without the intent of ever planting a garden…" Vitis said thoughtfully. The impassive god stiffened at the notion of being afraid of 'nothing' then let out a small huff of amusement. The arrow had struck true. "Perhaps one thinks this to be absurd. This one is charged with maintaining the sacred balance between life and death. An eternal cycle that shall not end. Void is the shattering of this. It is in this one’s nature to beware the void, and he who commands it. One would think us to be enemies, but this one does not wish it to be so. Not yet, at least.” [[knowledge is useless without action you filthy casual. It’s not like I'm scared or anything, baka! I’m just doing my job. >w>]]

The stag tilted their head up at the stars Unry had made. Even with their brightness, the endless dark remained “So it would seem one has finally answered this one’s question. Apologies, but this one has a final question to be answered. This one deals in cycles, in the fleeting turns of eternity. Yet this one was born into void. Was one the firstborn, then? Many would believe it to be Mawlock, the first to act, but this cannot be so.” Vitis gazed squarely at Unry, searching “If one is void, what came before thee? Is this one right to fear the end, or is the end the beginning of A World Anew?” [[FINALLY AN ANSWER. Ok, last question. Were you born before all of us and do you know what came before the void? If we all straight up died, would creation be renewed? ;w; dont mind the shameless reference]]

Unry looked at Vitis, though he lacked his face he appeared curious at the first remark, “perhaps… knowledge can be a… reward that those who seek it may earn… I shall think about this more later”

Then Vitis asked a very important question… Unry paused, still and motionless he appeared lost in thought, before he spoke again. “I… am not sure… I do not know if there was anything before… perhaps… I came to be once Mawlock did… like the rest of you did……. I do not have a complete answer for you… my most sincere apologies” Unry remained still, but his usual presence of nothingness shifted to that of worriedness… a question that remained unanswered not because he wanted to keep it secret but because he wasn’t sure.

"It would seem that even knowledge itself has limits. What a shame. One is left only with the unknown and the vigil. Perhaps it is wise to fear the end of things." The stag turned away, unhappy with the answer given. "If continuity cannot be assured, then its vision or doom is within the action of gods. Already this one can sense a crippling flaw fester. A vice of the firstborn. A weed that must be uprooted. See to it that thine own heart, void or otherwise, refuses its hold. Fare thee well, Void of Heart. " [[imagine being the God of knowledge and not knowing stuff. Welp, guess I gotta keep cleaning up everyone's messes. C ya.]]

Vitis bounded down the mountain, stirring up sproutlings and dead leaves in their wake.

The fragment of Unry didn’t move, lost in thought it remained there, still and motionless,with one hand on his chin and the other behind his back. Like a statue he remained there.

 

[Solirus]

• humans
• Sylvin
• Coria
• Memuor
• Velta
• Tilune
• Dwarfs
• Yu’varth
• Geldek
• Zorks
• Changelings
• Kobolds
• Drakonfolk
• The Gods

• 
  
  Humans
  ​
  
  Upon the southern territory of the Western continent, humans reside, created by the life god himself to be a spitting image of beauty and perfection. Since the time of the first human, they have been small in number due to the fact that they have extremely slow reproductive rates and their immortality.
  
  Though when they had first appeared, they knew not what to do, a short-lived sensation which died when a being of wings descended down from the stars, speaking and teaching in a way they understood. The first humans were given knowledge and in that knowledge lied options, they had not been told what they had to do, but what they could do. Thus did the first humans begin to share their knowledge with those unfortunate enough to miss the arrival of the winged being, soon becoming the leaders of the humans, the Progenitors.
  
  In the first years, humans were guided by the Progenitors, moving with caution through the world in search for a place to call home, a place which the winged being insisted was of most importance. Thus they traveled and traveled, learning to sleep more comfortably every night and learning to move more efficiently with every step before finally home was found, a valley of lush green hills with a bountiful forest next and the ocean in the distance. It was in these fields of hills that the Progenitors declared their home.
  
  It was within this time that the Progenitors were finally ready to share more information with the rest of their fellow humans and thus they did. But the knowledge held many branching paths, and if everyone did what they wished to do then it would bring about disorder with no progress. So the Progenitors held a vote upon which they would select how many other humans should move forward. Eventually, after much debate it was decided that they would build a village, using the materials in their environment to grow and progress with the guidance of the Progenitors. It was a landslide vote save for one singular Progenitor, Azarel, who saw the nature around him as more than just resources to be gathered and used. At first, he demanded there be a revote but with the rest of the Progenitors not budging he instead gave an offer: “I do not agree with the decision you have all come around to accept… Yet I have not many options save for one… I shall leave this place and live how I wish, but I wish to offer my lifestyle upon those who would listen to me and once I have those who accept my offer wholeheartedly, I shall leave you all be.”
  
  At first, the rest of the Progenitors hesitated but accepted his conditions. Arazel quickly went to his fellow man, expressing his ideals and thoughts, his way of life that he wished others to follow. In the end, only a very small handful of humans decided to travel with him, yet even with such a small group he appeared content, and thus the group of Arazel ventured into the forest to form what Arazel called: ‘The Druidic Tribe’
  
  The majority of humans that now remained quickly began work on taking the resources from their environment building huts and tents and, within only a few years, a wooden wall to keep them safe.
  
  It is within these years that humans truly realized the extent of their immortality, fatal wounds healed in minutes and once they reached their prime, humans would cease to age among other things, and in a hunting expedition did a human realize the true physical capabilities he wielded as a singular swing of the arm tore through a tree with ease.
  
  In the times of this revelation humans grew from cautious to confident and quickly began adopting rather interesting habits, punching a fellow man to greet them, playing pranks that would be deadly for anyone else, or fighting and hunting not to survive but to enjoy themselves, and with each day they realized they suffered little to no consequences. Each day brought new pride and arrogance, yet the village held up, save for a small band of freaks.
  
  These freaks were not amongst the firstborn, from the day of their births these humans fought with each other for the fun of it, traveling into hunts for fun only to return years later covered with rotten pelts of their prey. Soon, however, the band grew bored, a trait weirdly not seen within humans, and thus did they do the unthinkable and began swimming in the ocean, far and far until out of view, lost and bored eventually the band landed upon a land of uncontrollable ice and cold, a place with nothing but death and it is upon this place that the band realized that the only fun they needed was within each other, and thus they brawl with no stopping and with no distractions.
  
  As for the Humans who are still led by the Progenitors, a religion quickly formed around their winged being who had also explained to them the existence of higher beings, especially that of their creator who had granted them such perfection and beauty. Thus did Mawlock become their God.
  
  
  
• 
  
  Sylvin
  ​
  
  Upon the west of the western Continent did the Sylvin appear. They were lean, yet tall, with pointed ears that stuck out from their hair. They found themselves upon a great desert with sands and canyons on where life appeared to be forgotten. Through instinct did the Sylvin join together in an ever-growing group that traversed the desert aimlessly, facing growing hunger, freezing nights, and scorching days. Helplessness began to sweep over the large group of the Sylvin and thus did many dangle with the thought of escaping, traversing with the group only seemed to bring harm. Yet before any of that could come to fruition, the angel Kail arrived, spreading knowledge upon them so that they may survive and thrive in their own choosing. It was with her words that they realized the world they were in and of the high forces. But before they could ask any more of the angel, she disappeared as suddenly as she had arrived.
  
  The Sylvin with their newly granted knowledge began to discuss, each and every one of them, speaking their mind efficiently. The Sylvin showed great ability to listen, remember, and be patient. Eventually, the great group decided that from the words of the angel they would seek out a place with water and whilst they did the strongest amongst them would hunt for they now knew how to.
  
  Thus they did; they travelled, hunted, and survived together. In this travel, however, one member saw a glimmering light in the distance, a chance of water perhaps, for the closer they got the bigger the reflection became. Yet, when they got too close they were blinded by the sudden flash of light. One of the lucky few who managed to recover from the bright light saw upon him a vast ocean of glass descending down into a crater.
  The half-blinded Sylvin left immediately, travelling around the rim of the depression without stepping foot on the fields of glass.Eventually they came across a river on the opposite side of the crater, one lush with life and fertile soil, a river they would call their home.
  
  With most of the Sylvin now struggling to see, they realised another gift to them, the gift of listening. Not only were they great at picking up ideas and retaining them, but they found themselves exceptional at hearing any movement from a great distance. This made their hunt for desert creatures even more effective as hiding under the sand would do nothing to hinder Sylvin hunters.
  
  With a home, the Sylvin began constructing the first huts. At first, they had long halls of hardened soil and clay, made to house many people at once. Once the homes were built, most Sylvin met together to discuss the course of action. Two things had become important in the culture of the Sylvin: the sun and moon, for in the desert they were most at the mercy to.
  
  In the years that passed they became aware of their mortality both in time and events and should they remain alive together they would need a form of government. The Sylvin decided to build a large forum in which each citizen would express their ideas and as a group would come to a decision. And through the creation of the building did many Sylvin begin building around it creating a sort of city of clay and sandstone once that was discovered to be of use. Foolish would they be considered by some but Sylvin could listen better than anyone else and by listening was progress made between them.
  
  
  
• 
  
  Coria
  ​
  
  In the north of the western continent where an uncommon swamp resided did the Coria first appear. With only their frame slightly resembling that of humans, the Coria were covered with scales instead of skin. No Coria seemed to be alike, from different shaped skulls to multiple limbs, they all varied greatly in shape and design. Yet they knew they were of the same race, not from appearance, but from their smell and their presence, a useful attribute which allowed the Coria to remain united upon a land which they had been suddenly and abruptly brought upon.
  
  Yet the land they stood on did not have firm footing, causing them to fall down upon greater force being applied to the ground, forcing many Coria to learn to swim when they had only barely walked. The Coria quickly adapted to the water they had been plunged into and quickly learned to traverse through it, some even outpacing their kin who were lucky enough to still be on land. Quickly the Coria recovered and spoke with one another understanding each other's words. At first, it began with a conversation, then questions arrived, and finally, a Coria felt a great emotion: Worry. It led to fear and thus anger which led many of the other Coria to plunge into senseless anger, for they did not know why they were here and many began to feel a pain in their stomachs, a pain they couldn’t understand.
  
  It was in their greatest moment of pain that the clouds above them split open and a figure descended upon them with a body and presence unlike their own. Upon instinct alone many of the Coria bowed their heads, then slowly raised them, their worry and anger shifting to happiness and hope without truly being able to express it. Kail was her name and to them she taught them the knowledge they could use to survive and thrive.
  
  And just as the angel from the skies had arrived, she left the Coria with newfound knowledge which only a handful had truly been able to keep. It was five of them who managed to absorb and retain the knowledge and thus were aptly named chieftains of the Coria. The five chieftains secluded themselves to discuss with each other and determine the fate of the Coria, each time they fell into disagreements and each time a fight almost broke out.
  
  Just as they differed in body they differed heavily in mind and ideals, a mix ill-suited for the ones who held so many lives upon their shoulders. However, there were things that all chieftains agreed on, food and shelter. They would find the most capable hunters and send them together to hunt for food, teaching them the basics and allowing their innate ability of adaptation to guide them through the rest of the hunt. Frankly, many hunters would not make it back, yet those who did would be monsters of the hunt, sometimes electing to travel alone and bringing back too much food for everyone. As for the shelter, it appeared none of the Coria seemed keen or able to build a home for themselves. As such, the Coria opted for any caves they could find and set up their homes within them as the treacherous swamps were yet too hostile to be a shelter.
  
  The years passed and upon the caves that the Coria resided in, a Chieftain finally brought up an issue which had remained untouched for too long: The existence of the higher powers and what to do about it. The first chieftain spoke up: “It is true, these higher powers exist and their effects have been most noticeable… we must be willing to show our gratitude should we expect to thrive.”
  The second chieftain spoke up, “This is correct, yet there are many of the Higher powers, who shall we express our thanks?”
  The first chieftain smirked with confidence, “To Kianu, Queen of Ice, master of the hunt, she stands for what our strongest warriors live for and lest not forget we but reside only a plane away from her land! I say we show our gratitude towards her.”
  The third Chieftain rose up quickly from his sitting position: “FOOLISH! We should look to praise all the higher beings, should we do so then we shall not incur the ire of any!”
  The first chieftain paused, his smirk dropping to a frown: “You forget, our gratitude must take time and importance, a simple thanks each day will not suffice, it would incur their wrath to express gratitude in such mundane and weak ways.”
  
  The two chieftains locked eyes, showing great anger at each other. It had not been the first of their arguments, yet on this very day, the third chieftain was led too fiercely by his emotions, his pride damaged by the first chieftain. In an act of recklessness the third struck the first knocking him back into the wall. The rest of the chieftains swiftly moved to apprehend the third chieftain. It had been forbidden for a Chieftain to strike one another and that doing so would lead to immediate exile.
  
  The following day the Third chieftain was exiled from the Coria, quickly followed by those who had been most sympathetic with and traveling south, never to be seen by the main tribe ever again.
  
  The group that traveled with the now titled exile went forth, deeper and deeper into the south. The damp and moist climate of the swamp quickly became hotter and drier, a climate which at first they loathed but soon discovered to be more than ideal for them. Upon traveling further did they find themselves a village of clay with people whom the exile remembered being named the Sylvin.
  
  The arrival of the small group of coria was a surprise to the Sylvin, yet within a single meeting of the Sylvin did they see fit to allow the Coria a home as long as they caused little to no trouble. It was a feat that surprised the exile and his followers, for the Sylvin had come to an agreement in but a day when the chieftains would take weeks or months for the simplest of things. To the exile, it was a nice revelation that helped him feel accepted, for his words and wisdom were not ignored and countered, but genuinely taken into consideration by the Sylvin. the feeling spread amongst the rest of his people who were in exile with him. Many of the Coria felt more welcomed by the Sylvin than they ever did by their own race, and in but a few years the first hybrid offspring appear in the world.
  
  Back in their homeland, however, the four remaining chieftains remained, with an air of tension from the exile of their fellow chieftain, yet even with tension progress was made, and quickly a shrine to Kianu was built of stone. While not perfect, the Coria spent body and soul to build it, and within the center of their home did it reside for hunters to offer gifts and for families to pray that their children become capable and strong hunters.
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  Memuor
  ​
  
  Upon the great planes of the east did the Memuor first appear, with the large bodies of beasts and the upper half of ugly humans. The Memuor did not appear in a group together, they all appeared alone, traveling aimlessly in search of something, without realizing that “something” was each other. Bit by bit the Memuor found each other, at first cautious, but soon becoming friends as no other option presented itself.
  
  Even if the Memuor didn’t realize it, they were vast in numbers and spread amongst the planes, though fragmented. In this time did the angel arrive spreading knowledge to each group of Memuor. From each group, only a few worthy individuals were tasked with retaining the knowledge and safeguarding it for the future.
  
  Coincidentally, each of the Memuor factions remained upon the territory in which they had been enlightened, creating simple homes from the beasts they hunted and crafting weapons from the little forests and stones they could find.
  
  The Memuor were split among eight tribes, six of which remained nomadic, seeing their bodies not made to stand idle but rather to hunt and explore. The remaining two found an environment abundant with the resources necessary to settle down. Each tribe lived independently, ignorant of the existence of the others, though they knew of the other races.
  
  Yet their ignorance of one another would soon change. Upon a hunt a single Memuor from a nomadic tribe encountered one of a settlement, they did not recognize each other, they stared each other for long and hard, silence slowly creeping in, before finally a creature stalking the nomadic Memuor leaped from the shade and slashing one nomad’s throat before jumping towards a settler. After the second death the Memuor managed to strike back with their stone blade, forcing it to retreat. As they knelt down to respect the dead, the remaining nomadic tribe arrived to see a Memuor strange to them wielding a stone blade and kneeling upon the body of their comrade with slashing marks in their throat. Confusion became shock and shock became anger as they had just arrived in time to see the killer of their comrade kneeling down to check their prize.
  
  The Settler was filled with fear as the eyes of the nomads were alight with anger, so they fled. In one quick motion, a nomad threw a handaxe and lodged it firmly in the settler’s back. With a cry of pain the settler still managed to outrun the nomads, fleeing back into their village. The settler made it back in his home before collapsing around their family, their wounds proving grave.
  
  The Settlers took up arms to fight the invaders and thus began the first fight between two tribes.
  Though the fight ended in a standstill, they both knew to never trust Memuors. From then on, a meeting between two tribes would only end in violence.
  
  Thus began the Tribal Wars of the Memuor.
  
  
• 
  
  
  Velta
  ​
  
  Upon a snowy valley of mountains did the Velta appear with fur and physiques differing from humans, yet with the fur they were struck with the chilled winds. The Velta had been lucky enough to find the rest of their kind and retreat within the inside of a mountain where the cold was somewhat halted.
  
  Few of the Velta dared travel outside, yet, it was necessary to find food and clean water. Those who had been brave left the caves and never returned, making the Velta progressively worried. Yet upon one night when the stomachs of the Velta rumbled and they considered each other for meals did a shining light fill the cave. Kail had arrived and with her words she spread wisdom to all the Velta, granting them options for the treacherous environment they found themselves in and vanished as quickly as she arrived.
  
  Yet the words she spoke met an ill fate, only two managed to truly understand her knowledge. Those two became known as the Chosen, for it seemed weird that most Velta couldn’t remember the words of Kail. Thus did the rest assume that the ones who did must’ve been chosen for their character or perhaps for actions they would soon fulfill some time.
  
  Just as they had been chosen, did the Chosen began discussing, not only with themselves but with the rest of their race. They discussed only quickly as they realized that though they had been fed with knowledge, their stomachs remained empty. Thus, with their newfound knowledge did one of the Chosen decide to venture out with a group of volunteers. The second Chosen insisted to travel alongside them before the first explained that should they die in the hunt the Chosen would be gone forever, forcing the second to stay.
  
  In only a night did the first return with his group carrying the bodies and hide of the creatures slain. To not be outdone by his fellow Chosen, the second took over, skinning and cooking the creatures, finally granting the Velta a worthy feast. Thus did the first Chosen become known as the Huntmaster and the second as the Quartermaster, one venturing out to explore and hunt and the other remaining to let the spoils of the other not be wasted.
  
  It was upon the hunts that the Huntmaster saw the potential of the Velta: flexible, agile, and light; they could maneuver quickly through any terrain, and with a bit of practice and bravery, they could traverse through the mountains. With such skills and gifts finally visualised and experienced, the Huntmaster began treading further and further alone, looking for where the Velta might truly live, for the cave had served its purpose, but the Velta were quickly growing in number and the cave would eventually fail in containing all of them.
  
  In but a week of tireless struggles and travel did the Huntmaster arrive at what he called, “Livable terrain”. Thus did the Huntmaster return and lead his people alongside the Quartermaster to their new home: a stretch of land slightly grazing off a mountain with a river splitting through the mountain. But the most important part, a valley at the bottom of the mountain with the ocean gently touching it. The Quartermaster had initially doubted the Huntmaster in determining a land to live on, yet seeing it with his eyes he couldn't agree more. The land was far more fertile than cold and lifeless stone and for the first time, the Velta gazed upon the ocean.
  
  The Velta quickly made it their home, and in a few years they were building houses made of wood and strongholds of stone to safekeep their resources and protect their homes. Yet in these years did the Huntmaster and Quartermaster grow old, and knowing of their own mortality did they seek out apprentices and successors. Yet upon setting out to do such things, the Quartermaster offered his fellow chosen a proposition:
  “My friend, we Chosen have been guiding our people to greater heights and to prosperity… yet I must break the bad news… in but many years will our people face the same problem as we did in the beginning, we shall run out of space and as such we must find new land. But you know better than anyone with your explorations that beyond those mountains lies nothing but hundreds more mountains… Thus we must travel across the great waters, for we both know there we shall find land… land for our people to prosper.”
  The Huntmaster paused, yet understood, he had known the Quartermaster was up to something when he witnessed many hard workers constructing a large structure of wood of odd shape and had thrown it into the water, “Thus you want to send me there like you’ve done before?” The huntmaster questioned.
  “Of course old friend… however, fret not, for you shall not travel alone, when they are ready my successors shall travel with you to take care of the Quartering problem while your successors stay here… if you wish,” the Quartermaster proposed
  The Huntmaster nodded in approval and in a few weeks the Huntmaster, accompanied by the Quartermaster’s successors and many workers, traveled across the great waters in search for a land to call their ‘second home’ as the Huntmaster put it. Thus did the expedition travel whilst back on the mainland did the Huntmaster’s successors train and hunt, showing great skill, yet little by little did the hunts become more challenging by order of the Quartermaster.
  
  
• 
  
  
  Tilune
  ​
  
  Up at the top of a great mountain did the Tilune live side by side with their own creator Sinidarr, father of storms. Upon their first years of living did the Tilune experience a great many things upon the watchful eye of their creator, a great handful of them had become known as Gilded Ones, Tilune who did not age and managed to retain their youth and strength. At first this was seen as a blessing, yet as many years began to pass, the Stag arrived.
  
  The Tilune watched on as the stag cursed the Gilded Ones, ridding them of their youth and aging rapidly before turning into dust. The Tilune cursed the Stag’s name, for it had condemned the Gilded Ones to a fate over which they had no control. Yet many saw beyond the senseless punishment, trying to see a message written in the Stag’s irredeemable actions.
  
  Many began to think, perhaps the Gilded Ones were punished for even when they had been given all the time to live, they did little, they performed acts of kindness on occasion but overall they would’ve been forgotten if it had not been for their gruesome deaths.
  
  Thus did these minds figure it out; to live without a legacy was to waste one’s life.
  
  The Tilune began moving away from their home, traveling to hunt great beasts alone or to be the great victor in an all-out brawl started for petty reasons. Hungry did the Tilune become for glory for even if they died young pursuing glory it would be better to die of age without any glory. It was a sudden time of great discomfort and discourse for some and for none other than for Sinidarr himself. Upon witnessing his children throwing away their lives for so-called glory, he forced them to come back to their home and listen to the words he had.
  
  
  Sinidarr took humanoid form to educated his children, he taught them that seeking glory was fine, yet to do so and throw away one’s life is to dishonor and disgrace those around them. He wanted his people to be happy but he also wanted them to live. Sinidarr continued explaining that while glory may be had, that it should not be sought out so recklessly, that by giving up lesser glory one day to survive may they learn from that experience and attain even greater glory simply because they survived and learned. He also idolized the image of growing old, for growing old meant achieving glory and living to teach wisdom so the young ones may grow and learn from past mistakes, taking them further than their ancestors ever achieved.
  
  It took them a moment to understand his words, but the message was received, nonetheless. Within a few years, the Tilune had discovered a timeless statue of an oddly shaped being with one hand on its chin, and the other behind his back. The statue emanated an aura to those near it, those in the aura found themselves entering a deep state of thought and contemplation. Thus did the Tilune form a shrine around the statue aptly named “The Thinker”. And with the help of the statue’s mystical powers and the vigilance and care of Sinidarr did the Tilune become a tribe atop a mountain seeking glorious tales and the old age to tell them.
  
  
  
• 
  
  Dwarfs
  ​
  
  Up in the north, where the frostlands stood, did the first dwarfs appear. Punished Giants were they for inducing the Ire of the Mother of ice. And for their punishment did they lose their once great stature and strength as if to mock them and to have them never forget.
  
  In the first years, the Dwarfs survived, killing smaller creatures with their bare hands and ripping off their hides to wear them, needing them to survive even the warmest of days. The Dwarfs had no home and thus relied on finding caves to live in, yet for every cave they would find they would awaken the anger of a wyvern who resided within it. Each time they would move far away so as to not be slaughtered by the wyvern, and every time they ran away more would die.
  
  At one point did the Dwarfs find themselves lucky, finding a cave with no wyvern inside and finally finding a rather suitable home… Yet as the months passed did an Ice maiden arrive, Falma was her name and she was there to collect from the dwarfs. The Dwarfs, confused, asked what needed to be collected and Falma simply responded with “Pretty jewels” and should they not deliver in time, she would send Ysmir over to kill a few of them.
  
  Thus did Falma leave, having given them a clear message and warning. The Dwarfs were at first confused and then afraid, they had no idea what pretty jewels were, and if they tried to offer her anything else they would surely anger her even more.
  
  It was upon these days that the dwarfs ventured deeper and deeper into the caves trying to find any semblance of pretty things to give to Falma and as such to Kianu. Dwarfs would venture and return with many types of stones which the dwarfs all considered to be in some capacity pretty, yet for every dwarf that returned with a stack of stones two would be forever lost in the wretched caves, slowly did the dwarf numbers decline before finally, the day had arrived. Upon entering the cave Falma saw a row of stones placed in front of her. The Dwarfs, ever more worried, looked on as Falma picked each stone up and inspected them carefully. This went on for days until finally Falma looked at the last one and gave a deadly stare at all the dwarfs. The stones were crude, unrefined, and most importantly ugly to Falma and as such they would be horrendous to Kianu.
  
  Falma quickly turned around to leave before snapping her fingers, causing Ysmir to appear from nowhere, slaughtering a quarter of their numbers, blood spilling across the faces of each dwarf who was forced to see. It was clear that there was no room for error but the shock and terror quickly filled the room. In the following days the dwarfs picked up whatever managed to remain from those who had been slaughtered and buried them beneath the snow and in hours of silence did they mourn their fallen comrades, for they knew they would be next if they did not meet the requirements, yet from all the shocked and saddened dwarfs did one move forth.
  
  “Is this what is to become of us? Scavengers who walk this Forsaken land losing a comrade everytime we dare move!? Be slaves to a queen who shows not love but satisfaction in our suffering and slaughter?! Nay I say, we are living beings and gods dammit I want to live and I want all of you to live as well… But we cannot live if we get slaughtered… We must leave this place and find a new home… only then can we truly be alive and free!” A dwarf cried out… the cry was met with silence before another dwarf cried out, “Then what are we bloody waiting for, the sooner the better!”
  
  One by one did more dwarfs cry out in support before every single dwarf was exclaiming in support.
  
  “Then we shall leave by tomorrow, Bring all you can and let us leave this place that brings us no future but death.”
  
  Thus did the dwarfs pack their things up and leave. Many times before had the dwarfs packed their things to leave, but never had they dared to leave their homeland… yet that homeland of theirs was nothing but a deathouse and thus they kept traveling and traveling before finally they saw it, a great ocean in front of them… it was almost like a dead end. Then they heard loud and heavy stomps. An ice giant appeared, which would under normal circumstances leave them be, yet this time it was different, for it was seen that in the eyes of the giant there was hunger.
  
  The giant moved quickly and close before grabbing a single dwarf, the dwarf cried out for help yet none were stupid enough to challenge a giant lest they all die, yet upon the pack of unwilling dwarfs did the same dwarf as before who offered to leave move forth, and with anger in his eyes did he furiously and blinding strike the foot of the giant. From the strike alone a crack could be heard, the furious punch of the dwarf had broken a bone in the giant's foot, causing it to scream in pain and drop the dwarf it had held. Quickly did the giant turn to grab the dwarf who had dared strike him stating he would be the first to satiate his hunger.
  
  In defiance the dwarf spat on the giant even when held at its mercy. The giant decided to waste no more time and quickly tossed him into his mouth, yet upon throwing him did the dwarf manage to cling to the giants teeth and quickly pull himself up, standing on the giant’s teeth, stopping the giant from closing his mouth. Yet the strength of the giant even with just his jaw slowly began to overpower the dwarf. The other dwarfs looked in horror as they saw the brave and noble dwarf slowly lose strength and began getting his bones crushed by the teeth of the giant.
  
  The Dwarf screamed in agony and rage a sound most pleasing to the giant which had been the cause for taking so long, yet it would be this idling mistake that would be his last. In a final scream of pain and rage did the dwarf suddenly and brightly shine with wild colors blinding all other dwarfs.
  
  In the moment of the flash the dwarfs quickly regained their sight only to see a beaten but alive dwarf atop a headless giant. The dwarfs quickly moved to the dwarf who had just saved them. The wounds of the dwarf appeared to be cured as if nothing had happened to him, and when looking at the corpse of the giant, was the head nowhere to be seen only a neck remaining.
  
  And thus with their hero quickly awakening did the dwarfs take the body of the giant with them, using it as a means to cross the ocean and leave the frostlands for good and in but a few months, feeding upon the corpse of the giant did they finally find land, beautiful land compared to the hell of the frostlands, with large trees and great valleys, a cold place which felt warm to the dwarfs, a feeling they had not been used to, yet a feeling they quickly welcomed. Upon these lands did they travel further and further south until in more months did they meet with the ocean again, finally deciding they had traveled enough and decided to finally make their new home. For in these months of traveling did they encounter the wildlife and learn from it, learning to take the food from which bushes and seeing where best to sleep and hide.
  
  Upon setting their home did the dwarfs also learn of their great strength originating from the giants, for even when they were giants no more was there strength still great enough to break the bones of giants and thus to break stone, setting off to break open the mountains of the land and creating a home within the mountains. Yet when they began to dig deep did the dwarfs find their footing weirdly changing and in but a few weeks of mining downwards with their fists did they encounter a land alien to them, a land of beautiful crystals and within those crystals did the great noble hero find a man of crystals.
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  Yu'varth
  ​
  
  Down at the butt of the world, in the pure south were the Yu’varth born, guided by their Goddess Cath, were they brought upon a city filled with crystals containing basic knowledge for simple needs. Very rapidly did they develop, quickly forming a council and expanding outwards by creating farms which they themselves didn’t manage, letting their magic do most of the work. Each member of the council held a position within their quickly developing society, yet out of them all one seemed to hold the most power, the High Priest, for while each council member controlled their own little faction, it was under the High Priest which the entire populace listened to, their word was the word of Cath in the end. Yet none but the stonemasons had the courage to stand up to the High Priest. On many occasions, the High Priest expressed their distaste for altering the city in any way. This tension between the two members seemed to almost lead to violence yet it always calmed, logic and reason taking hold before emotion got the better of them.
  
  One day however did the air in Quan’Cath shift for a second, before returning to normal, a small disturbance to the Leylines appeared yet just as it appeared it vanished. The Yu’varth and the entirety of Quan’Cath was surrounded by a giant shell safeguarding the populace and wildlife from the cold, unforgiving weather, and elements outside.
  
  Within this time did the Yu’varth Adventurers seemingly gain an influx of new recruits, members from all walks of life volunteering themselves with no real motives other than a gut feeling and a chance to experience something more “exciting.” Thus, did many of them train under an adventurer and once they were ready did they head off to their first mission and for all those that left, only eighty percent returned, forcing the adventurers to either pronounce them dead or missing.
  
  Yet as many eyes were turned on the seeming incompetence between the training capabilities of the Adventurers, a single sculptor began an ambitious task: to carve a statue of Cath within one of the pillars of the church, both as a simple and practical joke, but also one of passion and to show his devotion to their goddess. Thus did the sculptor begin work, using their magic to maneuver the tools quickly, lest they be caught by the priests. The pressure of time, however, would prove reckless and dangerous as the sculptor placed force into one of the pick strikes and jammed it into the pillar. The pillar at first seemed fine yet as the pick was swiftly yanked off did it begin to crack. The Sculptor ran to safety as the pillar began breaking more and more before finally collapsing on a nearby home while a part of the roof collapsed. Once the dust had settled, many priests ran to the scene, quickly detaining the sculptor with righteous fury.
  
  Soon the sculptor was brought to trial in which they realized that their actions had caused not only the destruction of the most precious church but that the pillar had collapsed on a home killing three people inside. The sculptor was hit with grief and regret, what was meant to be a harmless prank to get one over the zealots became an accident claiming the lives of innocent. Thus was the sculptor to be punished, with the High Priest deciding the fitting punishment right in the court. The Sculptor was to have all their equipment taken, their rights as a citizen permanently removed, them, their family, and close friends put to work in the mines under harsh conditions… The list went on and on, it was as if the High Priest had waited for a member of the stonemasons to mess up greatly to enact their cruel punishments with the mask of justice.
  
  The Sculptor looked on in horror, cried out that it should at least be only them, and that their friends and relatives have no fault in this. Yet, the High Priest laughed it off, commenting how perhaps they would send the entire stonemasons to be put to work till death and to have the entire organization be brought up properly from the start.
  
  Anger swelled within the sculptor and with a sudden burst of rage did the sculptor fire a ball of destructive magic at the high priest, killing them and those nearby as well as a large chunk of the building. The sculptor then stopped realizing what they had just done, before finally being struck down by one of the guards, striking their back with a magical blade, ending their life.
  
  
• 
  
  Geldek
  ​
  
  Beneath the skin of the world, in the true depths did a second world reside, a world where the sun, moon, and stars did not shine, a world which would soon only know conflict and survival. Upon this world did the Geldek appear, men of crystals who had seemingly come from the very floor of the underworld. A hundred groups of Geldek appeared, and quickly learned to face that which they would soon call demons.
  
  Abominable creatures were the demons, and through disturbing pools did they appear with no other instinct other than to kill and maim the Geldek. In the surprise were many of the Geldek wiped out, reducing the initial hundred groups into 70. Those 70 had learnt and quickly defended themselves, whether it be from strength alone or ripping the very fabric of the underworld and using it as a weapon. With the first wave of demons having died down did the Geldek begin to relax and quickly adapt in their own ways. Those who had built weapons and contraptions on short notice expanded upon this by improving said weapons, whether it be by sharpening the blades and looking for ways to extend their reach. While the ones who relied on their strength sought ways to increase said strength.
  
  Yet just as the Geldek began to settle did the next wave of demons appear, at first all the groups managed to stop them. They quickly realized they had improved ever so slightly, and those who had not improved were wiped out, inspiring the Geldek to constantly improve in their weapons of war. Thus did the number of Geldek groups drop to 54 and just as the demon wave died down did all Geldek quickly begin improving again, some even opting to create large buildings to best compliment their strategies.
  
  One of the groups who had decided to build one of the structures had set upon themselves to build a tall complex. This would drive the demons up the complex and be struck by the Geldek’s many weapons. As they built higher, they encountered something unexpected.
  In front of them did they encounter a being of flesh: short but wide. Contrary to the demons, these creatures somewhat shared the body structure of the Geldek. Surprisingly, they did not attack them instantly, and were just as surprised to see the Geldek. The short creatures increased in number, each new arrival stunned upon seeing the Geldek and slowly talking to each other, promptly causing one of the Geldek to speak to the short ones.
  The Geldek spoke differently to other races, communicating through bell-like chimes and telepathic waves. Yet, remarkably, the short ones understood the intent behind the sounds. It was on this day that the Dwarfs would make friends with a Geldek group, for both groups shared grim circumstances, yet through action they were able to change that.
  
  The Dwarfs offered the Geldek to see the outside, a blinding world which had been above them. They saw the home of the dwarfs, a system of caves all connected and intertwined with future plans of construction further outside. Though it had been made for the Dwarfs, which was a complication for the Geldek, yet the few Geldek who decided to visit the home of their new friends paid no mind to it.
  
  With eager anticipation did the Dwarfs bring their new shiny friends to meet their Chief, a hero amongst the Dwarfs. Yet upon the Geldek stepping forth into the Chief’s room, did the Chief twitch in pain. He tried giving the Geldek a warm welcome yet something about their presence made the Chief suffer. However the Chief with his will powered through the pain and gave the Geldek a proper greetings, solidifying and truly beginning their friendship and cooperation between the two.
  
  
• 
  
  Zorks
  ​
  
  Around the entire world did the Zorks appear, scattered. Each of them were quick to find each other and with nothing but their instinct did they begin to travel in groups. They traveled bit by bit, traversing through all sorts of terrains, some groups encountering vast bodies of waters, forcing their route to vastly deviate, for they could not travel through these bodies… not yet at least.
  
  It was upon these daunting days of aimless travel that each of the groups were visited by a radiant angel who went by the name of Kail. The angel had but one simple goal, to give knowledge. And knowledge did she give to the Zorks, for once she had left a great many of the Zorks were able to retain the knowledge of what to do, of the higher being known as Gods and of others similar to them but not like them and even what direction to travel should they wish to meet them. Thus did every group travel to the nearest mortal race, whether from curiosity or a desire to survive with the aid of others.
  
  Upon the lands of the humans did a pack of Zorks travel, through forests and planes and hills did they travel until finally, they encountered a singular human wearing a thick hide to cover most of his body. The human looked at them in confusion yet showing no signs of fear, the group of Zorks looked at the human, they numbered around the dozens, scaring off any potential predators from nearing them, yet the human simply walked forward and attempted communication. The zorks couldn’t understand the words that were spoken by the man yet the human kept repeating them over and over, with a clear growing frustration in his expression and his voice. Yet the more he spoke the faster did the Zorks begin to piece together what he spoke about until finally the brightest among them responded to the human claiming that they were but a mortal species and that they had encountered the angel Kail, who had spoken about the humans. The human looked surprised and paused before finally nodding and gesturing to the rest of the Zorks to follow him.
  
  As the Zorks followed the man they began to scan the environment. It was a vast sea of hills, yet as they moved closer each hill would look smaller than the last, almost as if a chunk had been removed through great and violent force and before a Zork could question it, the Zorks finally arrive at what appeared to be the home of the humans. A large settlement with gates and walls of thick wood, upon entering they saw the rest, large homes built of wood with a large one having pieces built with stone and upon the center of the fortress of wood there was a statue of a beautiful woman with wings kneeling down with hands outstretched, seemingly offering nothing, with a Zork quickly remarking it appeared to be Kail offering knowledge. Next to the statue was a slab of stone much greater than that of the angel, yet it had yet to truly begin, surely another statue in the making.
  
  The Zorks were quickly brought to the main building of wood and stone where they met a singular woman, sitting down in a large chair. The man kneeled down and explained how he had met the odd one’s in his hunting trip and how they were able to communicate back. The woman dismissed the man and stood up to greet the Zorks personally. She had known of their existence yet was hesitant if they should be allowed to stay. A Zork piped up stating that they could cooperate in order to ensure the survival of both. The woman paused before bursting into laughter, finally after a solid 4 minutes of laughter did she finally stop asking what could they possibly offer. The same Zork who had piped up suggested that they had noticed how while the humans appeared to be formidable, they lacked numbers and many of them lacked mental prowess. Such a statement garnered the annoyed looks of nearby humans, yet the woman looked amused. She claimed the Zork to be mostly correct for on the day that Kail had arrived only a small percentage had truly managed to remember her words which had forced her to rely on those who remembered to do most tasks. Thus did the woman accept the Zorks, yet further cooperation would need to be thoroughly discussed.
  
  Upon the Lands of the Memuor did a group of Zorks travel. A land that seemingly appeared as but a singular plane extending for an absurd distance. Thus did the Zorks travel through the plane, as they traveled they had been met with small forests and tiny lakes leading rivers into oceans, upon one of these rivers did the Zorks decide to follow, for they believed that if they followed the path, they would surely meet with the Memuor. True they had been, yet their meeting was weirder than expected, for instead of meeting welcoming or at least surprised Memuor, the band of Zorks were met with a barrage of arrows and a battlecry as the ground shook with the charge of the Memuor. The Zorks quickly realized that they were not welcome and quickly fled, yet not untouched for in their escape did the Zorks lose many of their own kin from the arrows and the savage blades of the Memuor, only surviving due to the Memuor withdrawing. The Zorks had been rejected, yet the wounds had been made and the band of Zorks would slowly begin to thirst for revenge and Justice.
  
  Upon the lands of the Sylvin did a pack of Zorks travel, from north to south did the pack follow a great river in hopes of encountering further life ahead. Within a few weeks did the pack encounter a large collection of clay buildings filled to the brim with those they had known to be the Sylvin. Upon the arrival of the Zorks to the home of the Sylvin did a large portion of Sylvin travel to the largest of buildings and quickly send a small group of them to meet with the pack of Zorks.
  
  The small team sent by the large congregation of Sylvin told the Zorks to remain where they were and to wait for a decision to be made. After a few minutes, the group finally allowed the pack further into the village where they were welcomed. To the Zorks it was an odd sight, for such a large number of individuals to discuss and come up with a decision as one in such a short amount of time was nothing but baffling to the Zorks, yet it was scarcely effective. The Zorks were introduced to the Sylvin as a whole and even met with a small group of Coria who had hailed from the North, exiled from their own tribe but accepted by the Sylvin, forming a bond between the two races, with some of the two even taking it further as within the streets did hybrids run around confusing and surprising the Zorks further. The Zorks seeing a golden opportunity offered cooperation with the Sylvin which was all but instantly accepted but with certain restrictions for the meantime which simply boiled down to the Zorks being unable to hunt or wield weapons until they had truly proven their apparent friendliness.
  
  Thus did the Zorks use the fast learning skill to join the workforces to both further construct the homes of the town, set up farmland near the river, and even a select few participating in the discussions of the Sylvin. The Zorks quickly began feeling accepted, yet not all of them seemed too accepting of their situation as many of them were, a brewing distrust growing within a small group of the smaller pack within the Zorks.
  
  Upon the snowy mountains of the Velta did a team of Zorks travel, and in their travels did they lose many from frost, the unforgiving heights, and the savage wildlife, yet upon weeks of travel the small team arrived at the home of the Velta, collapsing from the cold into unconsciousness. Quickly were they brought into the care of the Velta who although confused brought them back to health with the guide of the Quartermaster, for he knew all about simple medicine and treatments.
  
  When the entirety of the Zorks woke up they saw themselves inside of a warm and wooden building laying down in soft and comfortable beds with their hands restrained. In a quick panic did the Zorks who realized their situation quickly rush to get out of their beds, yet those who did were quickly met with the spear of the Velta pointed right into their throats. The Quartermaster sat in a chair and explained the predicament to the few Zorks that remained. They had arrived here with at best dubious motives and had been a dump of resources to even keep alive, thus did the quartermaster in his wisdom give them a choice: Should they wish to live and even perhaps come to develop positive relations with the Velta then they would be put to work for the pure benefit of the Velta. But if they refused they would be tortured and then executed.
  
  The Zorks looked on in anger and fear, yet they eventually accepted those terms for their numbers were much lower than when they had embarked, and escaping with their lives was impossible as the mountains only served as a death sentence for them. The quartermaster, delighted by their response, had them brought by the apprentice of the huntmaster to begin their work immediately.
  
  Upon the swamps of the Coria did a tribe of Zorks travel, though they had traveled north the winds and temperature of the environment had but barely changed. The tribe had traveled sluggishly through the swampy waters and odd terrain which sometimes fell beneath their feet. In but a month they finally found the main home of the Coria, a set of homes elevated over the murky swamp with platforms connecting each of the homes and a cave which was decorated with symbols and pelts and a statue of stone representing Kianu in the wall with a bow and spear.
  
  Yet the Zorks were unable to observe any further as the tribe was met directly with a small squad of Coria who had for all intents and purposes prepared to fight, yet held themselves back from even attacking before finally, a large Coria walked in front of the squad speaking to the Zorks directly. The Coria claimed to know of the Zorks existence and express their belief that they did not want them here, yet the Coria offered an opportunity for a duel if the Zorks wished otherwise. The Zorks accepted and sent forth their most skilled hunter to duel.
  
  The Coria with a pleased look on their face told the would-be combatant to follow them into the dueling arena, a platform located at the center of what seemed to be the village of the Coria. The Zork was promptly given an option of non lethal weapons while the coria was given nothing, a clear handicap for the Coria and an advantage the Zork would not miss out on, picking the long staff as their weapon, and just as the Zork selected their weapon the duel commenced with a single beat of the drum.
  
  The Coria dashed forward with their fists raised to block incoming attacks, the Zork, seeing this, quickly retreated and moved to the side, having fought beasts up close before, as it was common for the beasts to close the distance on the prey. As the Coria closed the distance the Zork jabbed his staff, breaking the Corias guard and pushing them back. The Coria quickly recovered with a rather angry but controlled stare, before lunging forwards once more with their guard up which prompted once again the Zork to send out their powerful jab. At the moment of the jab, the Coria stopped their charge taking a slight backstep and moving their hands to grab the staff, yanking it from the Zork before swinging the staff directly on the Zorks head, breaking the staff and launching the Zork off the platform. The Zork had first hand experienced failure yet he remained with his life thanks to the presence of his horns and thicker skull. The loss from the Coria meant the Zorks would have to leave and thus they did, yet they did not leave without plans and schemes for the future for the strike to the pride of the Zorks was greater than the strike on the head of their hunter.
  
  Upon the great mountain range and forests of the Dwarfs did a congregation of Zorks travel unharmed as they followed a path of seeming destruction which they knew no less to be that of the Dwarfs. Upon the great mountain range and forests of the Dwarfs did a party of Zorks travel as they followed along a violently trodden path laid by the Dwarfs before them. Following along, they quickly came across the houses sticking out of the mountainous cliff faces and stairways dug in to connect them. The home of the Dwarfs. It was when the party had begun traveling the stairs that they encountered the first Dwarf, short and stout, with a sturdy build. The Dwarf greeted them cheerfully and asked few questions, peacefully bringing the Zorks to their leader.
  
  In the travel to the quarters of the Chief, the Zorks noticed large men of crystal walking amongst the Dwarfs and even working together, with the Dwarfs providing the physical manpower and the crystal men acting as supervisors for the construction of weird artifacts and buildings. Upon finally arriving to the chief, the Zorks couldn’t help but wonder what made the Chief the Chief and why they needed to have a helmet at every conceivable moment. Yet concerns aside, the Zorks were welcomed happily by the Dwarf who constantly made jokes of the Zorks trying not to simply kill him or gouge out his eyes.
  
  It was then that the Chief asked the reason for the Zorks’ arrival, to which a single Zork promised a conjoined effort for survival and prosperity. The Chief cried out laughing for a long time, before finally stopping and praising the world. With an ecstatic tone did the Chief accept the Zorks and begin to discuss how this conjoined effort may come to fruition.
  
  
• 
  
  Changelings
  ​
  
  In the very fabric of the world did the changelings appear as nothing but blobs of light slimes. Each was born from pools scattered all across the world and through the contact of the first beings they saw, they had an instinct to imitate, copy, and survive. Thus did the first changelings transform to resemble the local wildlife of their homes.
  
  Upon the lands did the changelings travel and transform, increasing their arsenal of forms by the day and learning from each species more and more. Through their travels did many changelings find certain forms more appealing than others, leaving back their morphing brethren and joining many of the creatures as one of their own.
  
  Yet those that remained together finally saw their labor flourish as each were met with a different race and species. Some decided inaction would be best and simply connected with the life around them, watching the races act on their own and learning from observation.
  However, there were those who decided direct blending would work best. The changelings who blended in had done so in the groups and tribes of the Sylvin and Velta as the populated nature of each of the groups allowed the Changelings to more easily slip in compared to the much more limited number of humans or the acute senses of the Coria. Yet to the changelings who began to blend in with the Sylvin, they had brought initial suspicion for sight alone could not easily fool the Sylvin and their Coria friends. Yet with the Velta they blended in perfectly, with a few exceptions being the Zork workers who questioned their apparent and random kindness at times.
  
  Yet the changelings did nothing for now, they simply watched and in the back of their minds, they slowly began to scheme.
  
• 
  
  Kobolds
  ​
  
  With the exclusion of the Dwarfs, the mountains remained, barren, alone, and unconquered. Yet mountains are filled with great value and if bold enough, great homes. Thus did the barren nature quickly disappear as the Kobols began springing up near the mountains of the world.
  
  Thus did the Kobols appear, yet they had not appeared atop the mountains, only at the bottom. Quickly were their bodies filled with air and quickly did they suffer for it, their body and metabolism crying and suffering from the vast amount of oxygen, forcing them to begin climbing. In great numbers they began to climb, with surprising natural strength and agility. Yet, the Kobolds lacked experience and knowledge, with many of their numbers falling from perilous heights. By the time some had reached high enough for their body to cease crying, their numbers had halved across the world.
  
  Even when facing such casualties did the Kobolds quickly pick themselves back up, now with proper thinking granted to them did they all begin to plan and think. Each of these groups would soon be visited by the angel Kail, granting them the knowledge that they might seek and most definitely need. Thus did each of the groups of Kobolds develop in their own distinct ways, each praising a different God. Yet with the basics dealt with did the Kobolds begin to discuss their other instinct, a deep temptation from something in the mountains to be extracted and used.
  
  Thus did the Kobolds begin to delve into caves travelling deep within them until they were met with walls. Yet with walls in front of them did the pulling not stop, they had to go further, go deeper. Thus, the Kobolds quickly built the tools they had learnt from the angel that would allow them to break the stones and tear through the barriers that were preventing them from reaching that thing that called to them. When the walls were broken in the darkness of the cave, the Kobolds were blinded with a beauty of immense colors. They had found Wyrdstone. Marvelous and beautiful, yet they did not know what to do with it, even without that knowledge they knew that the call did not remain alone with a single piece, they knew there were many more ahead. The first piece was the humble beginning, the humble beginning which would make way for the brewing storm.
  
• 
  
  Drakonfolk
  ​
  
  Upon the lands between forest, plains, and desert were the Drakonfolk sculpted from the memories of the fallen dragons. Most were sculpted with the form and shape of a human, yet they varied vastly with their skin and special features which included horns in their head, tails, and scales scattered all across their body, unique to the individual, and those rare ones were additionally given the gift of wings to soar free across the sky.
  
  Yet as the Drakonfolk were made, they met face to face with their God. Her presence was overwhelming at first, yet she would teach them that which they possessed and what it meant to live.
  
  Through the years L’Oria would give her wisdom to his race, granting them knowledge and experience on how best to use wings or how some had also be granted the gift of fire. Whether to use it as a means of survival or mischief was up to them. Most importantly, L’Oria taught his creations the beauty of mischief, to cause hindrances to others in differing amounts to gain pleasure and satisfaction through it. Yet the Drakonfolk lived only in the wilderness, prompting them to seek out other mortals, for better or for worse.
  
• 
  
  ​
  
  In the skies, the Sun and Moon, Buras worked on his own little project, having received assistance from a fellow god to create vessels, the God would spend their time both fulfilling their job as sun and moon and working on the project bit by bit. In this time, Buras also created comets, or at least the idea of it, for in the remains of the old moon did Buras fling the piece away into space, only for it to comeback in 83 years lighting the skies with splendor and beauty for a single night before returning to the dark to repeat the cycle. The presence of a comet would soon become a catalyst for many new beliefs amongst the mortal races.
  
  In the North of the world, Kianu rested upon her throne within her great castle. Even with all the inner luxuries and the tireless work of the snow elves, the true beauty was in its impenetrable nature by all but the Gods equal to her. Day in and day out did the God of Wolves use his brute strength to strike at the walls of the castle, each hit shaking the ground but leaving the wall unblemished. In some days Kianu would travel outside her palace to hunt. Yet for every time she would hunt, the less and less creatures seemed to appear, even the number of Giants began to dwindle as her domain spelled nothing but death for these creatures and with no true way to survive, the population of creatures slowly began to bleed away as most evident by the large escape of the Dwarfs.
  
  Upon the home of the Tilune did Sinidarr rest with a watchful eye over his creation. For every move the Tilune took, Sinidarr would judge it to himself and act accordingly should he have seen it as a danger for his race. The Tilune had once sought extreme glory by throwing away their lives, yet Sinidarr stopped such foolish behavior, speaking of the beauty of attaining glory and living share it. To the Tilune he was a true father, placing his concerns for the Tilune first above his own, yet allowing them freedom of choice and glory, yet of also consequence, for Sinidarr knew that sometimes the best teachers were the results of their actions.
  
  In the great halls of the eternal archive did Runa work tirelessly alongside her Archivist. With so many things occurring, everything and everyone needed to be written down and recorded. To the mortal eye she and the Archivist would work at such blinding speeds without sacrificing precision and accuracy. Yet as she did work, her presence alone brought the existence of runes: symbols which may be placed onto stones in a specific manner to grant them special powers and abilities. Yet though they existed, the knowledge of them to mortals did not. Though the presence was not done for it too brought along languages which could unite or divide many of the races. Finally, however, did an entrance to the Eternal Archive appear, far away in space at the edge of what might be called the solar system, unreachable by mortals while simply being an inconvenience to Gods should they choose that method.
  
  Upon the South of the World did Cath rest, surrounded by her people who worshipped her greatly. Yet, given so much knowledge and such an advantage the Yu’varth developed quickly in both the good and the bad. Eventually, a great incident occurred that claimed the lives of a passionate sculptor and the High Priest whose very essence left for the realm of the dead. Yet as Cath rested she began to find herself upon the Dream Realm as she had been in true sleep and inside the realm could she sense the very essence of Sigh’s seeming plea for help.
  
  Upon the surface of the World did two pairs of gods travel. Vitis was accompanied by the enigmatic god of war who followed like a shadow. The Stag would travel around the world seemingly aimless yet never missing a single spot. Amongst the races would they be seen, if only for a moment, by hunters or scouts who stumbled upon them. Yet the presence of the Stag always seemed most impactful in the places where nature had been taken the most advantage of, acting as a warning sign for some and slowing down the exploitation in certain territories.
  As for the other pair, Unry had been travelling across the world, accompanied by one fragment of Sinidarr. Unry, however, did not wish to be seen or to influence the world around him and as such hid himself in a presence of nothingness, becoming impossible to detect by anyone except their equals. Thus did Unry travel, guiding Sinidarr and sharing all the knowledge in the territories as well as the possible futures each held.
  
  Upon… someplace, was Zexzad. They remained somewhere maybe doing somethingl. It almost seemed as if they did nothing, but perhaps they did something in the nothing? But what was most evident was the form they had. One considered hideous, twisted, and contracted by others, until they formed an entirely new body, sharing traits of sheep while the remaining portion was similar to that of a human. Perhaps they did do something… all according to plan.
  
  In a small meadow the gods of Order and Chaos, Mawlock and L’Oria, had confronted the god of Sleep, Sigh. The slumbering god had offended her fellow gods, violating the creation one of and disturbing the balance the other had worked so hard to maintain in the world. The gods disputed for days until finally, Mawlock passed judgment. The god Sigh refused her sentence of imprisonment, and despite her efforts to dissuade and thwart the other two gods, it only took moments for them to bind her inside the golden box gifted to Mawlock by Zexzad. With their powers combined, the gods cursed Sigh with sleeplessness should she ever leave the garden that resided in the box.
  
  Trapped in a box was the Goddess of sleep, Sigh was seemingly more annoyed about her initial sleep being ruined rather than being put on her box and in that annoyance did she sleep once more, unconsciously creating a new realm, the realm of dreams, a place where souls could travel when they themselves would rest and experience all sorts of odd wonders. As the realm was formed so was a master of the realm, a Minor God of Dreams, whose powers dwarfed that of many other minor Gods whilst inside the dream realm. In the creation of the Dream realm did Sigh also send a message of help to the other Gods for her injustice, even placing a defense in hopes to prevent Gods from entering the realm in any other way than through invitation or true sleep. Yet such defense would prove pointless to her equals as they could enter any ways they wished.
  
  Thus is the world, yet it has only just begun, from nothing, into something, all different, yet all the same… such is the will of the Gods.

Special Thanks to the editors: jmann and Tetro

Mentions: Juju Soviet Panda seasonedcat SirDerpingtonIV QuirkyAngel Beeihu mewmilk Damafaud Huntertabbysandshark3 pinewoodpine Karcen Jasno ​

 

[Tetro]

• Order and Chaos
• Divine Judgement
• Blessings
• Firstborn

• 
  Mawlock and L’Oria worked together to gather up the sleep-inducing flowers created by Sigh. Despite their disagreement, Mawlock respected the creation of his fellow god and as a result, had the flowers planted at the base of the Great Mountain where the entrance to his realm resided. In an attempt to comfort his mourning sister, Mawlock made a creature similar to those created by the god of Chaos herself. It was one of a kind, and its fur emanated a soothing light. The small and furry creation was quick to climb onto L’Oria’s shoulder, and even give her a high-five with its small hand.
  
  The two gods remained together for a time, speaking and taking solace in one another despite their opposing natures. During their time together the two fell in love with one another, and a union formed between them. As a symbol of their love and devotion to one another, the two gods created a tunnel at the base of the Great Mountain that would lead into the very core of the planet where the entrance of their new realm would be. With emotions and power never seen before by mortal or even god, the two worked on creating a realm that would reflect their individuality and their union simultaneously. An ocean of golden magma and fire flowed freely in the realm, hot enough to keep even a god at bay. As the two crafted spires and buildings together where their creations could reside Mawlock felt himself becoming overwhelmed. His mind became filled with warped and twisted forms of his own concepts of order, balance, life, and judgment.
  
  Fearing for his beloved, lest she became consumed just as he felt himself becoming, he ushered her away. Despite L’Oria’s protests, Mawlock promised that they would be together again. Madness crept into the god’s mind, and before becoming consumed in a perverted mix of chaos and order, he gave what was left of himself to L’Oria. L’Oria lamented once more, having lost yet another beloved of theirs in such a short span of time. With what she was given L’Oria created a son, a god of art. The new god reflected the free-spirited nature of L’Oria, but the controlled and focused aspect of Mawlock.
  
  Using the power freely given to him by L’Oria, Mawlock locked himself within the realm. The god fell to the center platform that acted as the foundation for what the two had planned to build. Mawlock fought the chaotic energy that flowed so powerfully, and in an act of desperation called upon his own realm, forcefully pulling the heavenly domain down into this realm of chaos and distortion. The angelic inhabitants burned as they fell helplessly into the hellfire. The angels’ screams of agony could be heard throughout the realms. Reborn as creatures tainted by chaos and charred by madness, the now fallen angels and daemons crawled out of the burning ocean with new forms and warped minds.
  
  Letting out one final cry, the Great Mountain, and all of the planet shook. The shout devolved into maddening laughter, and despite his best efforts, the god of order lost himself to madness, insanity infecting his very being as the flames of chaos consumed him completely.
  
  Rising from the ashes of his old form, Mawlock was reborn just as his creations were. Standing tall and proud, the dark god looked around at his new home. “I will complete the task my beloved and I had set forth to accomplish and more.” Mawlock crafted a massive citadel that would act as the home to the creations of Mawlock and L’Oria, a prison for the golden box of Sigh, and a palace for the two gods to reside in. Mawlock scooped his hand into the burning ocean, taking out the small charred feathers of some of the old angels and turning them into various demonic creatures that would inhabit the realm.
  
  
• 
  Kail was on her knees before Mawlock, shaking and weeping as the infernal god scolded her. "I gave you a simple task: learn and teach. You were given a gift by the god of knowledge himself, made into a god yourself as a result. All I asked was that you help my children fend for themselves. Look at them now!" Mawlock waved his hand, opening a massive window in reality and revealing all that the mortals had been up to since Kail's visitation. Scenes of death and pain and cold and hunger and suffering and conflict played. "Does that look like they've been educated? Humans... MY HUMANS! Striking one another like animals!" His voice boomed, shaking the Underrealm. Kail tried to speak, but her throat felt tight and no words came out. Taking a deep breath the god calmed himself. "I am a fair god. You are not the only one to blame... Your brothers and sisters have watched not only creation but creator as well," The scene in the window changed to reveal the doings of his fellow gods. "Negligence, disrespect, arrogance, cruelty... Doing as they please, some even against their own kin. Vitis, Syrion, Kianu. Look at how they allow things to transpire simply because they put their own will above that of others so flippantly... No love..." His voice held sadness and pity now.
  
  Mawlock watched a few moments longer at what had been going on before finally closing the window. The demons and fallen angels looked around nervously, worried if the other gods might have heard the offending words of Mawlock. The god held up his hand, "Be at peace my children, this realm is held in place by myself and L'Oria. No one can see or hear within the realm without our allowance." Many sighs of relief were had. "As for punishment... You fraternized with a god, neglected your duties, and allowed my perfect creations to devolve and suffer." Kail only wept harder, but the pitiful cries of the minor god didn't phase Mawlock. It made the others nervous, eyeing their creator with a new sense of fear. His burning eyes were no longer filled with the unconditional love they once had. The god sitting on the fiery throne was a twisted imitation of what once was.
  
  "Ah, I know exactly what would do." Mawlock summoned the gold box, holding it up with one hand. "My darling little brother Zexzad gave me a wonderful gift. It's only fair that I repay him in kind. An angel turned god turned statue. That much change will surely please him to have. Crystal should do." In a matter of seconds, the minor god had been turned into a crystal statue, having only barely started pleading for her life before the process began. Mawlock inhaled deeply, feeling the life he had given to Kail return back to him.
  
  Mawlock looked to Azrael, "send someone for my dearest. Tell her it is safe for her now. I'm missing her company. Oh, and I would like you to personally deliver the statue to Zexzad. Tell him it is thanks for the box and the weavers." He looked at Symetra as she handled the four beasts, holding onto the four chains that were leashing them. "I may have some use for them soon enough."
  
• 
  
  Written with Solirus
  
  A pillar of fire formed at the center of the human settlement, consuming the statue of Kail. The pillar shone brightly and emanated the power of Mawlock. Two glowing red eyes formed within the flames, looking around and observing the humans and Zorks. "Bring forth your leader, the one who commands you all."
  
  The Zorks and humans stared in shock with the sheer presence causing most Zorks to fall into their knees while most humans began to sweat.
  
  The god stared angrily at the humans, disregarding the kneeling Zorks as they had not offended him. "You who so easily obey the commands of Syrion dare to stand and ignore the very one who created you?" Mawlock tore apart the largest of the buildings piece by piece until everyone inside was exposed to him. He would look in each and every building until the one he was looking for revealed themselves. "I will not ask again!" His voice thundered.
  
  From the large building of wood and stone did a female woman walk out, yet her expression was more of gleeful and excited, "You must be Mawlock! My pa talked about you all the time, I'm sorry for not coming out sooner I was putting on some clothes... Oh yeah I'm the leader too" She spoke, clearly nervous but more calm than the rest as she bowed down.
  
  "I did not create humans with clothes. Your exposure would not offend. But what does is how you have all been living." Mawlock continued his search while he spoke, but this time without tearing buildings apart. The man he was looking for wasn't there. His firstborn was gone. "I have had my angels watch over this world as it shaped and formed, and I am not pleased with how things have transpired. Violence, aggression, and division. I have not created you for such things. The failure of my agent will be rectified. You speak as the leader of humans, then you shall be reborn as my priestess. You will guide humanity back onto the path of peace and love. No more will violence be enacted upon your fellow man." A wave of consuming light washed over the woman, engulfing her completely. After she had absorbed it all her hair was golden, her eyes glowed yellow, and a glowing ring resided on her forehead. Knowledge of life and peace were bestowed upon her.
  
  "You alone have my favor. Now go forth and build a shrine, teach to all other mortals what I have allowed you to know so they too may have my favor. I will be watching you..." With that the pillar vanished, leaving the humans alone.
  
  In the frozen wastes where the separatist humans resided, Mawlock appeared as a large pillar once more. "Cease!" He shouted at them all.
  
  The five humans did not react or flinch to the loud cease from their god, each human cackled and laughed in an almost entranced state as they sent out powerful blows to each other.
  
  Mawlock took on a human form, walking up to the five humans and punching each of them once, sending them down violently enough that they left an imprint in the ground. He held them in place and glared at the brutes. "Terrible parenting that will not go unpunished now that I am seeing for myself how mindless you lot actually are... Go, search out the goddess Kianu. She will teach you how to behave in a more civilized manner. You will keep your immortality, as it is your birthright. But your strength shall no longer be as mighty. Once you have earned her favor I shall return. Should you waste any time, I will dispose of you." He left them with the instructions and warning, the form dissipating as quickly as it arrived.
  
  "Aw bloody hell, haven't been hit that hard since we first arrived" A human got up recovering from his unconscious state, "Uh... wait where did he go?" Another of the brutes got up quickly, "How should I know, I do know that I want a rematch"
  
  "So he wants us to chase him? Alright boys he can't have gotten far" One of the brutes got up and threw themselves into the ocean once more chasing for the one who had given them a proper beat down.
  
  While normally he'd make his presence known, Mawlock was going to take a more subtle approach. He waited until nightfall when the dwarfs were sleeping. He came to them all in a dream and spoke in a soft tone, "I have seen your suffering and unfair treatment. Given a task with no knowledge, forced to suffer as many because of the folly of one. I will bless you with love and protection and guidance should you ever desire. Call upon my name, Mawlock, and I will aid you in whatever you do. Build a shrine for me, and for the god Kianu, as your first show of loyalty." Mawlock left the sleeping dwarfs.
  
  The chief of the Dwarfs woke up, startled after hearing the voice, yet composing himself and relaxing, for a second he doubted, yet the clarity of the voice had been unlike any of his previous dreams and quickly did the chief write down on his stone tablet before collapsing on his bed.
  
  Finally, Mawlock appeared to the druids in the forest. They had lived a life most pleasing to him. The pillar of fire spoke, "you have earned my favor by living a life that perfectly reflects the true nature of humanity. Tell me what it is you wish, and I shall grant it." He had done enough punishing of humans and wanted to praise some for a change.
  
  The druids paused at the sudden emergence of their god yet quickly they huddled up and began discussing before finally they were ready and one stepped forward to answer Mawlock. "Our most gracious father of life, we wish to honor you and your equals without harming the life around us, that is our only wish." The druid responded before kneeling back down.
  
  Mawlock blessed the druids present with the same gift he had bestowed upon the human woman earlier. Their hair and eyes changing and a small glowing circle forming on their foreheads. "You may now use this gift to teach others of me and spread life to all who are deserving."
  
  
  
  
• 
  A man stepped out, revealing himself from behind a tree. Mawlock's gaze turned, and as soon as he saw the human, a large spear was thrown right at the pillar, burning up from the fire. While the others were horrified at the offensive action, the man didn't flinch. He stared at the god with anger and hate. The pillar took on a human form and Mawlock walked directly to him. The human swung to hit him, his right arm burning into nothing as Mawlock's head turned back a bit from the blow. "The first of creation, the first human, the first mortal, and the first to strike the first god. I don't believe there is a book in Runa's library that could bestow such poetry upon this or any other world. What is your name?"
  
  "You never bothered to give me one. You, or that insufferable bastard of a swan. You left us. You abandoned us. You're the reason why everything fell apart and why for years that joke of a god made us do menial tasks for him like slaves. You're no better than the mindless brutes who went off to do as they saw fit because of their power." He spat on the burning figure, watching the spit evaporate.
  
  "I think I'll call you... Elyis. You will have something no one else does." Mawlock held out his hand and a golden light flowed into the chest of Elyis. Mawlock and Elyis could see a golden thread that connected them, but the others could not. "A good balance I'd say." The projected form of Mawlock vanished, leaving the man and the others alone.
  
  

 

[Karcen]

Cath
domains: Magic
Mentions:​

Cath even while dreaming would dream of her lands and the events going on in it. She had expected to not need to intervene and let things take their natural path allowing her to live out life after life among them. She had seen conflict coming and had expected it to come from others gaining power and threatening the old groups. What she had not expected was that two of the old group would let a very minor conflict fester into something that even Cath did not like. The priests sometimes claimed to speak for her and they had once been humble only saying they searched for her will. Now one pretended to bring justice in her name. That was the true insult: he pretended that he held her power and was her voice. Cath did not want any of the groups to use her to dominate the others, if they wanted to reign supreme they had to do it without using her. The odd flux in the laylines would have to wait as it seemed the other gods were messing with her domain, if they were that eager to have her remove her influence then she just might. That would have to wait as Cath would have to wake up. She didn’t want to wake up to be the goddess she was, but this insult to her could not go unpunished.

In Quan’cath all would know something was wrong as the twilight that bathed all the land eternally changed not tonight but to pure black and the glow of all things magical started to flicker and dim. The only thing that glowed as bright as it had before was the well where Cath slept. The well didn’t just glow as it had before, instead it grew brighter and brighter, a pillar of blue light erupting from it’s depths and all that looked upon it would realize what was happening as the blue became a bright red. Cath, their creator, had woken and she was not pleased. As the red pillar reached the heavens the sky of Quan’Cath was dyed crimson every animal hid and yu’varth ran for their homes not sure what the wrath of their fickle creator would bring. Not many would truly know what had happened in court, they would know of the sculptor but not even his destruction of the holy church had roused Cath from her slumber and everyone would wonder what had happened in that sealed room to cause this.

In the court even as the guards looked over the bandages and clothes that had held the sculptor they felt something change not knowing what was going on they did not know of the waking of Cath and the descent of her wrath upon her people. They would feel someone appear in the courtroom and raise their weapons before even knowing who it was as just now two people had died and they could not be found out. It was only a split second latter that they realized their mistake and dropped their weapons and fell with their knees going as far to press their faces into the floor at the sight. All knew Cath their creator, but in no work of art had she ever been depicted with anything but the serene calm of slumber, now she stood before them furry erupting from her and the expression of anger on her face making each and every guard know how close they were to being unmade.

“ My goddess we..'' The captain started before he was silenced with a raised hand from Cath the energies of the enraged god lapping against him making him feel as if he was being torn apart, millimeter by millimeter yet instantly healed at the same time. Any pleas he might have died in his throat as he knew he could do nothing before Cath.

Cath turned from the Capatin to the two dead Yu’varth and raised her hands. Energy poured from her fingertips filling the robes as even if death was not her domain Cath in her mind had every right to call back what was hers from the grasp of Ninuzid. The two Yu’varth that had seconds ago been dead were reformed both surprised and shocked as they had been dead. The first thing the two saw was each other and both knew they had in a way killed each other, yet the rage was not gone and as one the pair would lunge at each other. Just Before the highpriest and sculptor could meet both would find themselves yanked back and sent flying into the walls hard enough to send cracks spider webbing through the polished white rock. The two should have passed out, should have been in pain, but they were not and only then did they actually see more than each other. They registered the guards kneeling in full supplication to another figure which both knew. One had swore his life to her and the other had tried to bring about her image upon a pillar. What both didn’t recognize was her expression, never had they seen such anger.

“High priest D’Uze” Cath said her voice contrasting her clear anger as it sounded almost calm “ Explain” She said and with one word the priest knew exactly where he stood and how little sway the high priest had with his goddess.

“ I.. I-i “ D’uze stammered he had always wished to commune with Cath having thought his views were right and he had never seen a sign to the contrary. Now that he had his wish come true he could only want to run and never stop to flee the pure primal terror he felt before his maker. “ I was only carrying out your will” He pleaded though instantly regretted it as the red aura that filled the room grew more intense “ I thought you had sent a sign, we just tried to do as we thought you said. I didn’t want him to defile what you had made” D’uze almost cried sounding on the verge of a break down and madness “ It was him the heretic that caused your cathedral to collapse to harm your children, not me” D’uze screamed like a child trying his hardest to deflect any blame to another. D’uze raised his hand and pointed out the sculptor “ It was him he is the one that did it”

Cath could see D’uze did not get why she was angry, why this had caused her to wake up and not the destruction of part of her cathedral. Still the sculptor did have his own share of the blame for this incident. “Sculptor E’ral “ Cath said and E’ral knew he had no better standing than D'uze; they were both equally small before their angry goddess. “ Explain” she commanded, giving him his chance.

E’ral swallowed trying to not break down like the high priest who was trying to shift all the blame onto him. He needed to do something different; he could not just deny his guilt like the high priest did. “ I just … I am sorry I only meant to show my devotion” E’ral said, moving from trying to defend himself to throwing himself at Cath’s mercy. “ I did not think that such a prank would go so far, it was just meant to mess with D’uze as he was always so against the artists decorating the city.” E’ral explained though in a way he was also shifting the blame. “ I deserve to be punished, but D’uze was being too harsh and was going against the laws of Yu that we had set forth,” E’ral said, pointing to D’’uze who looked like he was trying his hardest to die again. E’ral would have said more but before he could speak he felt the urge to shut his mouth and never speak again.

“ Yes though what is a bigger sin, to make a mistake in faith , or to try to usurp a god?” Cath asked her they were both sinners, but one was less than the other. “ D’uze I have never sent a sign to you, I have never spoken to guide you for that was not what I wanted, you were to find your own way in this land I have given you. Instead you cling to stones left blank so that it might be decorated.” Cath explained just how wrong the high priest and his kind had been “ I had turned a blind eye to what your kind did because you did it with in the laws of your own people, but now you break those laws crowning yourself god of these lands for you say you speak with my voice” Cath continued her voice still sounding calm yet the infinite rage of the divine lurked just behind that front barely kept in check.

“ I didn’t mean to try to be a king, I never thought of myself as your replacement “ D’uze said though even he knew on some level he was telling a lie. He had seen the power he could wield if he just said the slumbering goddess sent him a sign. He had liked that power and thought himself the better of the other guilds that he knew best. “ I tried to do what I thought you wanted I wanted to make you happy with our people” D’uze croaked again on the verge of crying.

“ And look where that got us” E’ral snapped at D’uze before he regretted his words as it felt like a giant hand was squeezing his chest seeking to crush him.

“ Silence E’ral you are not free of sins for the high priest did not act alone and was not the only one to think he knew best what I wanted” Cath said though the sculptor had been more right than the high priest he was still very much in the wrong. “ You in your pride and haste, in your arrogance and spite killed your own kind and through pretend devotion brought down part of my creation all to get back at one man.”

Now it was the high priest who for the briefest moment got to feel better than his rival. Still both knew better than to speak then it came to bothering to defend themselves. Cath had torn through any excuse they might have and forced each to know this was about two men who wanted to get back at each other and tear the other down. One had done far worse than the other but both had made great mistakes.

“If it had just been the collapse of part of my temple, if it had just been the killing of my creations, if it had been a sentence within the laws then I would not be here” Cath clarified leaving just one reason she had truly woken, why this trial and the verdict given by D’uze had stirred Cath to action “ But it is not, now is it? D’uze you have insulted me and transgressed beyond any station you thought you had. Your kind has grown to think themselves privy to my thoughts and thus all knowing. You have doomed not only yourself but your whole order” Cath said a finality in her tone giving no room to protest her verdict. “ I will dismantle the priesthood and remake it as you have shown me it was a mistake to think you could govern yourselves without me. You however will not see that day, but you will not know death or rebirth all must know what it is to transgress me as you have oblivion is your fate” Cath declared.

Even as she spoke, Cath raised her palm to face D’uze, a black spot formed and then grew creating a wind as nothingness tried to suck in everything. From the nothingness black tendrils erupted each ebing another aspect of the great nothing of Unry. “ In this world of light, there is no place for you of the darkness. Thirst not. Hunger not. Return to the void” Cath chanted though she had no need to do so as a dark sphere appeared around the entangled priests screams were silenced and as Cath closed her hand the sphere of the void shrank and vanished leaving only a hemisphere in the stone where D’uze had once been.

That was one of them dealt with the greater of the sinners, now for the lesser. Cath would only somewhat change his sentence. She had an idea that was both a punishment and a way to protect him. “ Sculptor E’ral you will receive a sentence as well” Cath said and E’ral flinched expecting to face nothingness like the priest. Darkness however, did not come for him “ No you will live but you and your family shall leave this city” She said though she was not sending him to the mines “ You will go into my lands and you will find a land of sand and crystal there in penance you, your family and those who wish to follow you shall build a new city “ Cath explained not needing to explain the mercy in this act sheltering them from any angry ex priests. “ You are a sculptor no more from this day forth you shall be founder E’ral and you shall found the first city made by your hands and your hands alone”

E’ral could say nothing and as soon as he realized her was no longer being held by the power of his deity he also noticed the redness of everything had faded, the natural colors returning. “ Y-yes of course thank you thank you for your mercy” E’ral said anything even the mines were more merciful than not existing. E’ral not needing the command got up and ran past the still kneeling guards who this whole time had done their absolute best to not be seen or remembered. Still they could feel the anger had abated and their Goddess was no longer wrathful.

“ Go tell everyone spread the word you do not speak for me or with my voice but only carry the message. The priests as they no longer exist each is to be stripped of what they have to find new paths in life. And from now on I will be awake to help you deal with your problems” Cath ordered and the guards rushed out to spread the word. Cath wanting them to not be doubted would mark them so that all that looked upon them would know they spoke the truth. There would be much to do and Cath was just getting started already outsiders had found her lands. They were on the outside for now, but given how humans had been given immortality they would one day make it into Quan’cath. She knew they would only bring pointless death and destruction to her lands, they needed to be dealt with. Or at least she should have had to deal with them, but even now she could feel them leaving and was oddly annoyed by that. She had already thought up a lovely little curse for such brutes that had come to her shores. Mawlock had already dealt with the invaders and thus they would not suffer the curse, but Cath was not one to simply let a good idea go to waste. Cath vanished from the courthouse and appeared moments later in the snow of the outlands where she could just barely make out the slowly shrinking shapes of the humans. That had not left much behind being here only for a short time, still they had left blood. That muchCath could work with. With a gesture she unfroze the blood and made it float in the air before her. While she might have living or dead humans to work with, this was good enough for her spell work.

Cath reached into her mouth and pulled forth a tooth, a symbol of hunger. The humans had come with the hunger to fight, the hunger to explore, to kill , destroy, now she would create the manifestation of that hunger. Plunging the tooth into the now sphere of liquid blood Cath started the creation of her curse. The blood started to expand adding to its mass becoming a torso, then limb, then finger till it was the human made purely of blood. That was not enough so Cath scooped up the snow dirt of the land covering the blood human with white and brown giving it a solid form. Cath then changed the now solid whit humans, she gave it longer hands and claw-like fingers made it abnormally thin yet holding all the strength of the endless hunger of mortals. Yet even this was not enough, the humans had left behind the rotting hides they had swam in and Cath gathered them up with a wave. She then attached the rotting fur to the monster binding it as if it was living flesh to her creation. Yet the head was lacking, a human face with sharp teeth was no good. Cath tore the flesh and muscle away from the face exposing the skull and tore the skull up as antlers grew from the now empty sockets and from the former throat another skull emerged wearing the human skull like a helmet. The new skull was more like that of a wolf. With that and a few more minor tweeks the new being was done.

“ You are hunger made manifest, always will you hunger for the flesh of humans and what you do not kill you shall curse'' Cath said “ You are the first of the cursed, the first of the man eaters, you are Gjardr the first wendigo the first of the cursed” Cath finished as she gave life to her newest creature and set it upon the wastes. It would forever hunger and never be able to eat enough. That was another matter settled she Cath could now know the shores would forever be guarded by Gjardr and he would spread his curse to others in time.

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Zexzad
Interaction:​

it had been some time since Zexzad had last overtly done something or prehaps covertly who was to say with such a bizarre god, in fact there form had changed it was no longer a time for primal gods of great and vast size with strange unending rolls of mass stretching into infinitum. Now Zexzad had taken a far smaller form that off a half human half sheep creature adorable floofy and innocent looking carrying with him was the minor deity Zir whom had decided to take the form of a sheep for a little while just as a joke before morphing back into something else and leaving Zexzad as they had reported what there superior requested of them. Zexzads attention turned to the mortal plan out of boredom it seemed everything it had set into motion was going according to plan and thusly zexzad needed to interfere very little leaving them annoyed as they’d shot there own amusement in the foot so to speak. However there was something that caught the now bean of a gods interest. The great amount of death all its mortals experienced and it though perhaps a plant of sort to honour there sacrifices form there own progress would be appropriate one that would warp itself to represent each of the races. And the perfect name for it.. the triumph bloom. With that detour out of the way a single lone mortal had caught the eyes of Zexzad, for now they would watch them.. perhaps once they where alone Zexzad would grab them.. but right now Zexzad had the feeling to go and visit some of the gods it had not encountered in person. Maybe in a little while mawlock had change too it seemed as expected by Zexzad seems the deepspawn had competition for what should truly be called a demon. It’s next plan required the geldek and the kobolds to interact but that could wait for another time. since Zexzad had last looked at the mortal that had taken its interest was finally outcast as a year or so had passed since it had last checked and that being? Was a small dragon like creature who’s horns and tail seemed like that of shimmer jellish energy, a unexpected hybrid of dragon and changeling.
————————

The young dragon was left outcast by there family having discovered there strangeness they found it best to leave them out in the woods alone and scared the child no more then about 5 wandered aimlessly as they sobbed not even having a name yet least not one he could remember wanting to go home but having no clue where home actually was only for them to get blinded by a bright light standing before the scared boy was a fluffy looking person that seemed to have a calming aura too them. “Don’t worry small one ol Zexzad’s here to take care of you, others might have not seen it but your a special one” the sheep like humanoid spoke to the boy who smiled just a little wiping away a tear form there eyes. “Oh.. ok.?” The boy mumbled confused taking the strange being hand gently. “Hmm now how bout I get you a name then? Miko? Sound good? Least for now maybe I’ll change it later” the sheepish humanoid said thoughtfully as the dragon boy just nodded. Before being whisked away to who knows where.

 

[pinewoodpine]

Runa, Goddess of Language, Literature, and Rune

Interaction: N/A

Mention: Tetro (Mawlock, Kail), Karcen (Cath)

A century had passed since the creation of the Eternal Archive. Runa and the First Archivist were still hard at work as the civilizations continued to develop under the watchful eyes of the gods. There were some that had created many literary works and developed their own languages, while some remained crude and ferocious. But even among the most barbaric among them knew the preciousness of being able to communicate, and Runa was pleased.

Her effort in maintaining all the hidden systems that had been put in place was not in vain.

However, what happened upon the world that the gods ruled did not go unnoticed. Despite Runa’s gaze was mostly upon the maintenance of the Eternal Archive, she had not averted completely upon the happenings on the mortal realm. She simply watched at the rise and falls of the mortal races. What was time to one such as herself?

She had remained mostly silent as the world progressed, pleased to simply be an observer, an archivist of the things that had been done. However, it was at this time that she noticed strange occurrences at locations where the first runes had been formed. From her seat in the Eternal Archive, she turned her curious gaze upon these locations all at once.

Strange, crystal-like creatures had formed around where the Runes were the most powerful. Unintended creations from her placing the Runes there, no doubt. They were curious little creatures, prodding their environments with their natural ability to harness the power of the Fonts – components of a full Rune. These… Living Runes were simple yet elegant in their architecture. Not unlike the Runes that she had fashioned.

She could sense them all around the mortal world where no mortals tread, but curiously, her sister Cath’s barrier had blocked her senses to the realms of the South. She would wish to peer further into her realm, but that was a matter for another time as manners dictate that she must first approach her sister for permission. Such was the relationship among the primal gods. Close, yet afar.

She then pulled her attention back from the mortal world.

However, it was at this time that she sensed a change in her fellow brother and sister. She summoned Mawlock’s rune before her. She could feel the change in its energy, its meaning. Despite being the Goddess of the Runes, she could only watch in sorrow as she felt her brother’s change. She was powerless in all this. Despite being one of the primal deities, she could do nothing to soothe her brother’s anger and bitterness.

What was the use of being a goddess when she could not even help her family when they were in need?

It was also then that she discovered that one of her Runes, the minor goddess Kail’s rune began to lose its meaning and connotation. The minor goddess had fallen. Gone. Scattered into the pitch-black darkness of the Void as her essence returned to her creator. She wanted to weep but noticed that no tears came out. Had she, a goddess, learned to pity the divines’ playthings?

They were gods.

They must put their work above all else.

But yet, if that feeling was unnecessary, a mere construct, why would she have them in the first place? In a moment of weakness, she averted her gaze from the mortal realm once more. And return to her work, to pen the rise and fall of Kail, the Goddess of Mortal Knowledge as she ignored her own wariness and pitifulness.

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Kianu, Goddess of Ice, Winter, Hunt, and Preservation
Everfrost Castle (Divine Realm)

Overhunting.

Within a 100 years, as famine and hardship spread over the lands of frost, the number of edible creatures dwindled and Azorfs descendants departed for new homelands…before completing the promise. Creatures that couldn’t adapt to the harshness of winter died. The giants, as if they’d forgotten all Bihorn taught them, ate whatever they could get their hands on—rabbits, bears, wolves, yetis, snow serpents, etc. The wolves, suffering the worst of it, neared extinction. In all honesty, Kianu wouldn’t have really cared, as it was a simple enough matter for her to recycle their souls and make more…if the aberration had not been born.

When enough wolf blood littered the snow, and the wolves howled their anguish and prayers, it was as if the planet itself had answered them and a deity of wolves was born. Was it her power that created them? Some sort of magic in the snow? In the planet itself? An accidental ritual performed by her creations, made solely to be game to be hunted? Kianu didn’t know. However, the birth of the immortal creature fascinated her. Or it would have, if it had not been created with vengeance in its heart—a monstrous wolf that slew giants and set its divine sights on her castle. The first rebellion against winter…after Azorf’s pitiful descendants ran away of course. That itself was a rebellion. Did Azorf teach them nothing? At what point did they think they could escape a goddess like herself before repaying their debts? Did they not take her threats seriously? Had they forgotten?

It was a very mortal-like thing to do…forgetting things with time. Or did they not think themselves responsible for the debts of their ancestors?

Scowling, Kinau walked down the icy halls of Everfrost castle and opened one of the frozen doors that lead to a ‘dungeon’ –one specifically made for the large canine that tried to break her castle. Past the empty cells. Into a barren field of naught but ice and snow, where the temperature was cold enough to drain the life out of any normal mortal, Kianu’s gaze settled on the large wolf chained to large frozen rocks. Shackled in zone of deep cold for nearly 100 years, furs crusted in ice, and stabbed repeatedly with hundreds of thousands of spears of ice by her maidens as ‘punishment’ for daring to bare his fangs at their queen, the creature still did not die—not that Kianu expected him to. Even if a weaker god, killing a deity would be no easy task…and this one seemed to possess a high level of regeneration. Kainu tilted her head. Besides Zexzad, the deity of change, it wasn’t like very many gods came to visit.

“Ah, you’re not the one that usually comes to torture me,” The wolf’s ear perked up at her approach, his glowing eyes opening to peer down at her as he growled. “Come to kill me at last, White Huntress?”

“White huntress?”

“It’s what most of my kind call you—the goddess that brings about eternal slumber in the cold.”

Kianu nodded. She had many names. It didn’t really matter what others called her. “If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve already done so already. Besides, you are one of my kind.”

“What do you mean?”

“A god,”

The wolf snorted. “Am I? Your messengers certainly don’t treat me like a god. I swear, the pale-haired one would murder me if she could.”

“The giants are Sey’s descendants…and you slaughtered many,”

“As they did my kin,” the wolf god’s eyes narrowed. “I delivered to your favored creations what they deserved. Or do you think they are just in the massacre of the wolves, Oh Great Deity of Ice?”

“No. The strong live and the weak die. It has nothing to do with justice…but an immortal such as yourself should not interfere in the proceedings of mortals. You also turned your sights on my castle. Tried to kill the one that created you. ”

The wolf god barred his teeth. “And I’d slaughter you if I could, White Huntress. Put an end to winter once and for all. Many in the Frostlands would be happier for it—the wolves included.”

“Is that so? I suppose a mortal would want to live out their short lives for as long as possible,” Kianu replied indifferently.

“Are all gods as heartless as you?”

“Ask yourself that. I told you you’re a god, didn’t I?”

“God or not, I was born to protect the wolves that called to me. To save them. Their hatred. Their anger at being created just to die. It’s all mine. Everything I do, I do for them.”

“And what can you do for them now?”

Kianu watched as the large wolf snarled and struggled to free himself from the chains. She supposed that was the difference between her and a god that’d been born on the planet; Whose purpose was to protect one of the creatures existing on it. Kianu had no such purpose. She found some of things other gods created pretty…but that was it. She joined because she thought it would’ve been fun. She made her own toys to play with…and she cared for a few…but they were still toys in the end. They lived, they died. Kianu wasn’t a part of that cycle, so she could never truly understand. Making her creations undying would make them last longer…but then they weren’t as interesting. It was those that had something to lose that struggled. “Work for me and I’ll ensure that the handful that remain won’t be hunted by the giants – or any other species living in the Frostlands—while they replenish their numbers. They’ll gain the protection of winter, of the goddess Kianu, and be given a chance to flourish—to a certain extent—along with yourself and any descendants you might have in the future.”

The wolf god stilled, his angry, savage eyes becoming suspicious. “Why?”

“I am a goddess of preservation,” Kianu tossed her hair. “I’m also bored and curious…so I’m giving you a chance to accomplish your purpose. Whether you take it is up to you. Call my name when you’re ready to decide.”

Like some of the mortal races that called her name and sent their prayers when they wanted something from her. Kianu could hear them—like a tiny buzz in the back of her mind. She thought only Frost Giants prayed to her like Sey taught. Had Sey, Falma, and Ysmir spread her name elsewhere? They were quite the chatterboxes when they wanted to be. Some other gods? Exiting the dungeon, Kianu made her way to where Falma and Ysmir were feeding the gifts the goddess of magic had given them: Beira, Boreas, and Skadi.

“Did you hear the screams of angels, Falma? That god of life and order must be going crazy. I heard he and the dragon god trapped the sleeping one in a box as well. You know the one that—,”

Kianu cleared her throat and both Ice Maidens hastily bowed. Falma more graceful than Ysmir, who was caught off guard and seemed slightly embarrassed. “You know better than to gossip about other gods.” Though it was hard not to miss the planet shaking. She made it her policy not to interfere with the doings of other gods…but when they were causing crudely built mortal houses to crumble because of some realm-merging shenanigans, Kianu could only pinch the bridge of her nose. Why? What was the point? Was this what ‘love’ did to gods? “Where’s Sey?”

“She went to Giant’s Ridge to tend to prayers there, Lady Kianu.” Falma answered. “As you are aware, the number of giants are dwindling due to the lack of sustenance…as well as the appearance of the savage wolf deity…so she’s leading them to where the Frostlands meet the sea and showing them where the cold water fish are plentiful. Teaching them preserve and domesticate food, like they tamed the Ice Wyverns, as well.”

“You know how Sey is, Milady. They remind her of Bihorn.”

“But with none of Bihorn’s wisdom,” Kianu sighed. However, she also remembered the big child that brought a bit of warmth to Everfrost Castle. For his memory, she would ensure his children didn’t die out…not completely at least. They were also a pious lot. A race born of two creatures of Ice. Strong and intuitive wielders of Winter Magic. They wouldn’t feel comfortable anywhere that wasn’t cold. Azorf’s descendants as well. She may have taken away his size and his blessing of Winter, but their roots were of Ice. Compared to Frost Giants, they were weaker. Their lifespans were also shorter and they were more prolific. For those that died easily, it only made sense for them to find warmth in each other’s company, make big families, and breed as often as they could for their lives were fragile and they lived each day not knowing whether they would live or die. “Find the Priestess of Winter among them and relay my message: If there is no food at the moment then they should sleep; Hibernate and conserve their energy like the bears do so that they might survive. Do not fear. The next time they open their eyes, the Frostlands will be flourishing with prey for them to hunt.”

Ysmir nodded and vanished to do as told. As easy as it would be to spoon-feed them and simply create more creatures from snow for them to feed on, they needed to understand the consequence of overhunting. They needed to learn from their struggles…but she’d make sure they didn’t completely die out before then.

“What of Azorf’s Descendants that have escaped, Lady Kianu? They’ve defied your will and—,”

“Falma,” Kianu stopped her messenger with a cold gaze. “Do you know why I even let Azorf have descendants?”

A mirror of ice formed in her hand, reflecting the dwarves in the mortal realm. “I did not expect Azorf to complete his promise in his lifetime and I gain nothing from the demise of his line. Fool as he was, even a cursed Frost giant like himself managed to find love among those that were once his kind…so I answered their prayers let them both procreate. I told him his descendants would continue his promise or die, after all. How could he pay me back if he has no descendants…and wouldn’t you say his children finally found the pretty jewels Azorf promised?” Kianu showed Falma the image of the land of beautiful crystals discovered by the dwarfs once they left the Frostlands. “In respect for the strength they’ve shown,” Taking down a Frost Giant was no simple task. “I’ll give them one more chance. Track them down, Falma. Remind them of the deal made to me by their ancestor. I’m a goddess that keeps her word. If they refuse, report back to me and I will deal with them myself.”

When Ysmir returned, she sent the Ice Maiden collect from the Coria and show their children how to hunt. Kianu would’ve normally handled something like that herself, but she was curious about the ‘magic’ the ‘hero’ of the dwarfs displayed. Had another god interfered? Had he tapped into the wild magic of the land? Runic magic? Like with the birth of the wolf deity, it was moments of desperation like that which gave way to strength. Kianu smiled.

Exiting Everfrost Castle, Kianu observed the changes in the Frostlands in the last 100 years. The Yisgramor proliferated, their eggs frozen and buried in the snow until they grew well enough to melt out of it on their own. She’d hunt them down if they became an infestation on her hunting grounds, but in all honesty, the snow serpents—who also buried their hatchlings in the snow—where doing that well enough on their own. The species, races, kept each other in check. The mother of the Yu’varth dropped some sort of magical trees to protect children in the Frostlands. Reaching a spot where the Frost Lands met the Frost Seas, Kianu continued nonchalantly, every step on the surface of the water forming a bridge of ice while she walked aimlessly in thought. A visit to Runa’s Library might give her some answers as to the magic displayed by the ‘hero’ of the dwarfs. Unry, the god of knowledge and nothingness, would likely know as well. However, before she could leave to track the gods on their realms down, the goddess of ice spotted something the made her eyebrows rise. Five humans…swimming in the icy cold waters.

Mawlock’s favored creations. Were they so bored of their endless life that they were entertaining themselves in any way that they could? If so, Kianu couldn’t blame them. Had he given them endless strength as well? How long had they been swimming? They seemed lost. Or were they headed towards the Frostlands? Curiosity bade her stroll over to where the ‘immortals’ waded, her voice coming out in an imperial, slightly frigid tone as she gazed down at the two playing in the water. “What are you doing?”

mentioned: Solirus Karcen Tetro pinewoodpine

 

[jmann]

Sinidarr

• Gladwe Peaks
• Surrounding Terrain

• 
  
  Sinidarr lurked high within the sky, the slight pitter-patter of rain drizzling down the pillars of Gladwe. The once close community of Tilune had grown a lot over time. No longer were they huddled in the centre of the pillar, careful not to stray too close to the edge. Now, they had built a game around jumping between the short gaps that separated some of the pillars, racing each other across the Peaks. Their fear of falling was gone, thanks to the gliding that Sinidarr had gifted them. Gone, too, was their humility, now they boasted their accomplishments to anything that would listen, true or otherwise. Sinidarr had managed to convince them not to throw away their lives in search of this glory, but he could not stop them from leaving the Peaks in search of adventure and treasure. Not that he could blame them, after all, he was doing the same with Unry, the intelligent god who kept secrets. The call to adventure was too strong for the Tilune, and the children grew up with tales of grand adventure and slain beasts.
  
  Sinidarr stewed, the clouds darkening somewhat. He had dreamt a different fate for the Tilune. He quietly wished for them to remain humble, remain a simple village of compassion and the pursuit of worldly understanding. Instead, they had become reckless and attention-seeking, happily looking for deadly monsters to fell and treasure to win. He had followed the Awakener's advice and guided the vine, but the vine grew too strong in the wrong direction. Either the Awakener was wrong, or Sinidarr was weak, both thoughts that unsettled him.
  Another thought that plagued his mind was the mote in his collection. It had grown. Only slightly, but grown nonetheless. Sinidarr once thought nothing of it, but eventually, something had to be done.
  
  
  Sinidarr took his mortal form and drifted within the cloud. It was his own realm, in this cloud. A place for contemplation and to truly hear himself think.
  The mote was perhaps the size of one's fingernail and glowed with a faint blue light. It was amorphous, yet hard to the touch, easily morphing and squishing. Sinidarr funnelled some of his energy into the sphere to analyse its interior. To his surprise, there was not just the potential of creation. There was *life* within the mote. An actual soul and being confined within the speck of creation. Yet there were two life sources, one was distinctly his own power, and the other was different. It had the feeling of rich, damp soil. A being supercharged with divine energy, and brought to life.
  Sinidarr held it suspended in his hand, static electricity crackling between his fingers and the mote. With willpower alone, Sinidarr tried coaxing the life out, pulling at the edge of the mote until a blinding light split through the side like a funnel of pure creation. A violent gale tore the mote apart for a split second before it snapped shut again, its colour faded. Sinidarr was focused on the greyish-blue deflated mote that was barely a fraction of its former size, so focused that he barely felt a light pat on his shoulder. Sinidarr flew back as he turned, seeing a human-sized form of pure spinning winds, with a bright sphere of light at the top, staring at him like a great unblinking eye. The body was alien, but the concept was not. He had heard of such things from Unry. A being born from the energy of two gods. A *Minor* God.
  It projected no thoughts, only pure emotion: afraid, confused, afraid, afraid, confused.
  Sinidarr held out his hand, tendrils of lightning connecting him to the Minor God. It... it was his child in a vague sense, he had a duty to protect it and care for it. Sinidarr channelled more of his power into the being and imparted some of his own wisdom. He taught it language and art, then of people and animals, then philosophy and the concept of humour. It liked humour very much, the same with dance and entertainment. Sinidarr smiled.
  "You have the knowledge," Sinidarr started, "Now find understanding, child of mine."
  "I am... without form," it did not speak but thought directly into Sinidarr's mind.
  "Go below, find the mortals, give yourself a form like theirs and they will accept you. Then travel the world as I have done, talk to people and find the Stag. They should know you exist."
  "A-And should they ask my name?" Sinidarr looked expectantly at his child. It waited for a moment before it realised, "Paleros?"
  "Paleros!" Sinidarr exclaimed. His child, Paleros!
  
  Paleros flew down through the cloud cover, down into the village of Gladwe and adopted the form most familiar to them. From there, they flew out across the mountains towards any civilisation they could find.
  
  The world was big and Paleros would see it all, just as Sinidarr was doing. Along the way, they would join travellers on a road for a short while, before recommending a shortcut down a road of their own creation, just to leave in the night and take the illusion of the road with them. Some harmless fun to make a long journey bearable.
  
  Sinidarr's clouds were full of rainbows that day, for it was a day of pure joy.
  
  He had a child!
  
  
• 
  
  Sinidarr's dream of a humble people did not simply pass. After all, the dreams of a deity were far more potent than that of mortals. His dreams were always followed by an unusual rain; a luminescent rain that tasted of sickly sweet strawberries. This rain flowed down the mountain with ease, as if allergic to the rock and soil. It pooled down at the bottom in puddles, where frogs leapt and splashed with simple glee. With each session of the New Rain, these frogs began to grow, eventually becoming bipedal. They spoke in garbled throat noises and hopped between the trees and marshy soil at the base of the Gladwe Peaks.
  
  
  
  One particular drop of the New Rain gave one of these frogs an alien intelligence of civilisation. It decided it was a She, and Her name was Kailb. She brought her knowledge to her fellows to grow and evolve. But Kailb had her limits, and all she knew was which berry could be mashed and eaten, and which bug tasted the yummiest (the answer is "all of them"). Nevertheless, the frogs — who Kailb called Frogglins — grew and changed. They were strong. They were frog.
  

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Mentions: Juju Solirus