Fantasy Kingdom Death: King of Monsters (IC)

[TipToeToast]

Turn 3 - Lesser Concordat, Ballon of Hillhome

---

Ballon knelt before a great slab of stone. It had been pulled out of the dirt and painstakingly heaved up the inclined slopes of the settlement, before being stuck into the ground flat-side outwards. After a metal tool had been used to cleave the rock more or less flat. Ballon had then taken a hand-sized stone of greater hardness compared to the slab, and begun to rub the front smooth as best he could. Lesser Concordat tools, crafts, and means were of no means comparable to the great works of the interior blocs, and so the slab was a primitive creation. Slaves lay in a heap towards the slave quarters, drinking waterskins of poor water drawn from the well. Their break would not last very long, and Ballon did not need foresight to know this. Ballon's body was sturdier due to his few enhancements so the task of drawing back his iron chisel and cutting glyphs into the rock was not impossible. Sweat ran down his neck as he labored. Eventually, written language was apparent on the rock.

​

Spoiler: The Five Comm-ant-ments:

0. Be vigil-ant always. The sight of one ant is less. The sight of the colony is more.

​

1. Be not internally Ant-agonistic. All tribesmen are of your brood. Do not send mixed signals.

2. Suplic-ant, are you before her. Thonk is She. She is the one. She is the only. Take no idols before her or after her or co-equally astride her.

3. Be not extravag-ant. Glory is the mindkiller. Do not make merry or horde or conceal or enjoy that which is decad-ant, thereby will you poison the brood.

4. Assist-ant-ce be rendered to your master. Serfs, honor your master. Masters of the home, do not viciously whoop-eth your man. He is yours AND he is Hers, and Her claim over all property is always greater.

​

5. Repent-ant-ce voiced is grounds for consideration. Oppress and be selfish, but do so as a means to an end. Wisdom, foresight, plots, are survival in the Dark. Short sighted brutalism is deserving of punishment itself.

​

​

Ballon wiped his brow and stepped back. The stone slab was plainly displayed in the town center near the well. Anyone who came to draw water would need to at least glance at it. A crude depiction of an insect was all that was left. He poked his tongue between a gap in his teeth in thought and hissed out a breath. In his mindseye, a nice possibility for a picture took shape. It was one that people would nod their heads at--not worship, no--for he was no artist. He held his thumb up to the slab as an artist may to a canvas, and then leaned forward to make the cuts....

He labored... Tink, Tink, Tonk....

And labored more... Clink, Clink, Tonk...

The picture took on a final form. A few more chips... Tink, tink-ity-tink...

It was done...

Spoiler: BEHOLD!

As the beautiful work was completed, a nearby neighbor had begun AND finished their own 'special work'. Invisible gears on unknown machinations turned... Something had changed radically.​

Ballon stepped back to admire his work. Absolutely flawless. He spat upon the shoddy works of the craftsmen blocs, at least privately. The lettering on the glyphs flowed well. The picture was okay. He nodded in self-satisfaction. Sweat shone clearly all over his torso and he knew it was nearly time to turn in for the day. Suddenly, a cry went out from the opposite side of the settlement. A great feeling of dread weighed suddenly down on his mind, like an invisible rolling pin milimeter by millimeter descending to flatten dough. Gods, Dark, and demons! How could he have missed this? A tide of branching knowledge came to him -- NO TIME!

He lurched to the side in a daze and accidentally knocked his entire stone creation to the ground. It broke horizontally in the middle and was rendered purposeless in an instant. 'I DON'T CARE,' he decided. Something was coming!

"BAR THE GATES BAR THE GATES BAR THE GATES!!!" his instincts screamed! "SHUT THEM!!!"

The latent and lesser seers among the tribe clutched their heads. What they were experiencing was not psychic pain or attack as a psionic may have felt; they were knowing the possibility of what was to come, and the possibility reeked of near-certain death or loss of self. Red tides of claustrophobic particulates. Every orfice on a mountain of bodies, ripe with fungi. Agony. Pain in the chest; either acceptance or the slow crackling breaths as certain death came. Ballon's mind spun as he lurched away from his broken and forgotten primitive creation. He stumbled, regained his footing, and ran waving his arms down to the lower level of the settlement.

"Shut the GATES!" He cried, "Block it!"

The master of the gates complied near immediately. Ballon was still running up to the gates as they swung shut, and strained to pick up the fat wooden bar which belonged on the gates. "Moss. Get moss, or pampassgrass! Chink the gap, get dirt all along the bottom. Move!"

The younger warrior in charge of the gate lept to it, tearing at the ground with fervor for material to stuff in-between the little gaps in the door. Ballon hardly understood the details even then, only that what was coming would come soon. Even as a self-styled 'Lord', he began raking at the ground with his fingers and patting dirt feverishly down around the base of the gate.

As he scraped at the dirt, the future became clearer in his head. Deadly spores flowed from out of the temple of the Pobl Ap Gwead and their Scarlet Aeonia. A vision of what imminently came over him. A village. The men had come home from hunting a feline beast. Beast had rent men, but arrows and sustained bloodloss had felled it in the end. A portal never seen before had opened above it and the red tide of death had come for their people. Some fled. Some hid. Some clutched their relatives and spoke the fatalist words of the First Faith, in acceptance that all men die but that they would be with one another. Survivors would come from this place and some would serve the new master. An image flashed into his mind of robed figures with knives emerging from a grove of dead trees amid the red snow and perpetual night...

Unknown, Late Post-Sporefall:

Spoiler: BEHOLD!

All of the settlement of Hillhome became consumed with panicked haste and hastily contained panic. The empty barn was packed with vulnerable dillos to protect them from any sporefall. The edible fungal tracts were cleared, and food supplies moved indoors. It had been a stroke of good judgement that their people had not bartered their surplus food, they knew. Ballon carefully felt for the winds direction and began sheltering people away from the potential few spores that floated over the wall. Mid-darkness became late-darkness, and the town's preparations began to break into nail biting. Would the walls keep out the infection, or worse, infected?

Ballon hoped he would not need to find out.

---

Action: Disrupted. Discussed.

 

[Scatterbrain]

The Pallane (Turn 3)

Eurymedon was as happy as he could be. He had established a thriving settlement, bolstered by the arrival of two groups of outsiders who had witnessed the Pallane's acquisition of the two cubes. Their new home was now free from the threat of monsters, their lair toppled upon them by the tribe's mental might. Yet, true to his glory-seeking nature, Eurymedon wanted to cement his legacy, to have his name echo through the annals of history. As his last act, he decided to purify the well, making the water safe to drink and ensuring sustenance for the tribe for years to come.

Patrigenos, on the other hand, was far from happy; in fact, he was on the verge of losing his mind. With his heart set on Periboia, he had abstained from any form of intimacy and finally reached his breaking point. Yet, with this slip in sanity, came a degree of clarity and a stark revelation. He had been going about it the wrong way. Periboia was not a woman to be courted; she was a beast that needed to be tamed. He was Patrigenos, son of the great Eurymedon! Everything he laid eyes on was his to take, and take he shall!

Actions

1. Eurymedon will purify the well, making the water safe to drink. [Apply 2x Tidy if applicable.]
2. Patrigenos will attempt to copulate with Periboia, placating her with 5x food to minimize the risk to himself while also wielding T10 Liferoot/Wyrmbone hand weapons to defend himself if necessary. [Apply Fearless, Capable, Narcissistic/amoral, preternaturally strong and hardy, Strikingly Beautiful, Camouflage and Mind over Matter if applicable.]

 

[Twist]

The Idafaoda

Chieftain
Ilauf
Perks: Gallant x3/ Intelligent x3
Quirks: Amoral/Audacious/ Chaotic/ Blindly Obedient

Hope(s)
Flir/Bante
Perks: Playful/Eloquent/ Innovative
Quirks: Brutal x2/ Blunt

​

Turn Three

Flir worked her knife into the seam, cutting free the loose strands of string. She had corrected his arm, his nose and substituted well enough his knee with some bone from the Pit. She took a step back to admire her latest work, one of the men of the Miracle Ghost tribe. Clad in white and with a perpetual smile etched onto his face, the sight of him, frozen in time, brought a bittersweet smile to Flir's lips.

"Well, here we are again, Assh" she murmured to the lifeless figure. "You seem to be the only man in my life these days."

Her voice echoed softly through the cavernous space, filled with the stuffed and preserved remains of the Suspension’s myriad creatures. Ant Lion's in various stages, an Armadillo Vermin, a Grimmory, the dead husk of an Ankhnaw amongst others filled the space. Each specimen was a testament to her skill and dedication, but they were cold comfort against the loneliness that often crept into her heart these days. She sighed, her eyes drifting to the brewery visible through the open entrance, a reminder of her other passion. The brewery and the museum were her legacies, but they did little to fill the void left by the absence of a true companion, the empty cups of Darkwood Beer littering the floor a testament to that. (Innovative)

Outside, she could hear the familiar, comforting murmur of her sister, Bante, talking to Lockout, an ancient talking chest now her seeming boyfriend. Lockout's strange otherworldly voice mingled with Bante's playful laughter, a stark contrast to the stillness inside the museum (Playful/Eloquent). Flir could feel her hand tense around the knife, squeezing hard on the hilt before she stuck it into Assh's side, running it up the seam as if attempting to disembowel the dead man (Brutal x2). She screamed, burying her face into Assh's chest to muffle her cries. She loved her sister, and she loved her mother but how much she hated them too at that moment.

Ilauf, their formidable mother, was outside conversing and caressing the tribes horror tree in the bonemeal pit. Throfl as the twins had come to call it, the reborn Stand Up Man, rustled its branches in response, the sound reminiscent of laughter carried on the breeze. It was a peculiar companionship, but one that Ilauf cherished (Blindly Obedient). Flir had no-one and her family both had someone, though she hated herself for being so jealous of the two's relationships with pieces of wood. At least Assh was, in both senses of the word, a man.

She pulled back to a look at him a small smile full of hope on her face but it was only a moment or two before she realised how much she hated him so. She had called him Asshole for a reason after all. That stupid smug smile, those hollow dead eyes, his slick, manicured hair. She took the knife in hand and dug it deeper, twisting it one way then the other until she felt the slightest bit of relief(Brutal x2).

She shook her head and cursed, searching for a needle and thread to redo her work again though her eyes weren't what they used to be. She rummaged around the tabletops and stands, her mind wandering as it always did nowadays to a companion. A constant light in the shadows of her mind, Flir often thought of taking a mate from the Original Bone Clan. They had arrived in number some time ago to find the her very tribe and to drink of her beer. And a hard bone trumped good wood any day she mused, bringing warmth to her sombre face.

But her sense of duty to her tribe had relegated these thoughts to the back of her mind, though she knew she was just using duty as an excuse. One of the only perks of being older, she had become a little wiser. Time waited for no woman after all and she would have to do something soon.

Her mother had planned a great hunt for the Idafaoda, one she insisted the other tribes would most certainly join. For getting old was hard, but their lives were harder. Surely they accepted that fact and would face the horrors of the world willingly despite the danger with a smile on the face. It was certainly a freeing thought and one that instilled the Idafaoda with a blissful peace.

For Flir however she planned to use it as a means to cavort with the other clans, to test her skills and theirs, and find herself a companion.... Drunken shouts and confused murmurs drew her from her musings and her museum as she walked out to a red rain. Unnatural and strange, the rain fell like ash on her skin. Laying in the sand with Lockout, her heels kicking the air as they talked only moments earlier, Bante approached her sister. "This is new..." she said, holding Lockout over her head.

"Nuh. You think?" (Blunt)

Bante rolled her eyes. "You really need to get yourself a man Flir. Get rid of some of that tension." (Blunt)

The corner of Flir's lips flicked angrily upward for a moment. "F*ck you" she said

"No. F*ck you. Seriously as your sister I highly recommend you see into it" joked Bante. (Playful/Blunt)

Though Flir was still angry, the impish look on her sister's face couldn't help but disarm her. They laughed and Flir felt a little lighter.

"Observation. We have incoming people, Miss-out." interrupted Lockout.

Flir looked at Bante confused. "Pet name..." she murmured shyly. (Playful)

"I'm more concerned about the people Bante" replied Flir, who began to cough. (Blunt)

"Analysis. They seem to be sick. As do alot of you half crawlers all of a sudden."

A tiny hand extended from the chest, touching the underside of it's body under it's eyes. "Explanation. Something to do with the fallen fungal scarlet spores."

"No!..... Really.....?!" mocked Flir, her cough becoming a major fit. (Blunt)

"Girls! Are you ready for the hunt?" (Chaotic/ Amoral/ Gallant x3)

Blood dripped from her mouth as Ilauf spoke to her daughters, the twins looking at her in disbelief as blood poured from every visible orifice of their mother. "You're joking?" asked Bante, taking a step towards her sister, doing her best to shield her with Lockout. (Blunt)

Ilauf laughed madly. "What better time to prove our worth to the Stand Up Man then now, daughters. Gather your weapons, your armour and your Ankhraws. We go with our heads high and stand and laugh in the face of the darkness." (Chaotic/ Amoral/ Gallant x3)


Orders
Collaborative w/ Player: A great hunt to celebrate Hope's union alongside other tribes. Ilauf will rally as many tribes and refugees as she can with Flir delivering a speech. The example of Throfl (First Faith) will be used. (Perks: Gallant (X3), Intelligent (X3), Innovative, Playful, Eloquent), Quirks: (Audacious, Chaotic, Amoral, Blindly obedient, Brutal x2, Blunt), (Skill: Lore (15) X3 Suspension, Creatures, Carousing) Anyone is free to attend.

Normal Action: With a generation coming to an end, a great celebration is to be thrown with everyone suitably dressed. Mourning clothes, wedding dresses, party outfits and more will be made using Leather and Bone (Renewable) with Silver adornments. (Perks: Gallant (X3), Intelligent (X3), Innovative, Playful, Eloquent), Quirks: (Audacious, Chaotic, Amoral, Blindly obedient, Brutal x2, Blunt), (Skill: Lore (15) X3 Suspension, Creatures, Carousing)

Free action: Feed Throfl Bonemeal

 

[Trektek]

Kingdom Death: King of Monster

Clan Vivaldi

Turn 3




Taas was happily humming to herself as she was on her way back from the clearing after spending some time with Haduwig. They were to be married. Sometime soon. It was to be part of a GRAND EVENT. At least that was what was being talked about by her father and the others heads of The Vyx.

It was a strange name, at least to her. But it was explained to her as being the first letter of each of their clan names, so it made sense. What mattered was that they had a home that was protected and a place where she and her clan could practice their crafts in peace and harmony.

She was shaken from her reverie when a small flake of something landed on her face. Her hand reached up and removed it. What was it?

More began to fall and Taas started to feel ill.

No………

She took off at a dead race towards the front gates. She was finally better now. She was finally able to do everything she never knew she wanted to. She couldn’t get weak again. She was cured…..

Taas was getting weaker and weaker until she collapsed at the gate. The last thing she saw was the Yanmen guards picking her up as her vision faded to black

—----------------------------------------------------

Zaas was talking to the Seimari Healer at Taas’s bedside. His muscular physique bristled with rage. Not at the healer, but at the situation. He had made weapons and armor for others to help keep his tribe safe from harm. But now, harm has come directly to not only his clan, but his own daughter, the HOPE of their clan. THIS CAN NOT STAND.

“The spores have been purged from her system. For now. She’d best stay inside. I have many others to heal. These spores are insidious.”

The Seimari Doctor gathered up her healing belongings, talking about things with the sort of impassioned response of the medical professional as though the general situation did not affect her directly. Mostly because it did not. Her own people had their hospital and lots of healing herbs.

The Ap Gwaed. They were the ones who unleashed their spores from their Horror Plant. It was not yet strong enough to fight. But it did not need to. Any that accepted it were empowered and any that rejected it was badly hurt by the spores.

Easily thousands of people, at least hundreds of smaller tribes were wiped out in a near instant. The sheer audacity. The leaders of many clans, even those that were not friendly with each other were prepared to march to war to wipe out this upstart clan that wished to spread its deadly spores and kill those who would not submit.

Zaas had a plan. He would revive the Vivaldi Crusaders in a way that they had not been before. He would make them juggernauts on the battlefield. Ones that only the most experienced of the clan would partake in.

It would mean sacrifice. It would mean that they could no longer have a normal life. Any that volunteered would be encased in thick armor that would boost their abilities and make it that they did not need to eat,drink or even poop.

But they would become STRONG.

The Vivaldi Crusader MK II armor would be ready in time for them to march.

—----------------------------------------

The volunteers came in droves. They knew that they would be giving themselves for their clan, that they would sacrifice the chance at a normal life. But that they would be giving countless others the chance to LIVE, and live safely. In the end, Zaas turned all away except for 4 Lanterns worth of volunteers. He knew that any more and he would be sacrificing the ability of the tribe to survive beyond the current day.

As the Vivaldi Crusaders were being crafted, the situation outside had changed. The Grand leader of the Ap Gwaed was captured and placed in a cage underneath the city, destroying his clan in the process. But that was not the end of the plant, unfortunately.

A cowardly man known as Ballon of the Concardat, took the plant for himself and when asked by the Grand Alliance of anti-spores to hand it over for destruction, refused and spat in the faces of the diplomats.

As such, we all march to war to make our loved ones safe from the spores once and for all. It will be a great and deadly war. But one that must be done for the protection of the region from such a deadly weapon that can strike everywhere at once. None have such a dangerous weapon and all except on man, wishes to keep such.

—----------------------------------------------------

Taas was finally awake, watching her father place others in the armor, tears streamed down her eyes. (Compassionate)

Why did such things have to pass where good men and women had to go off to war encased in huge metal suits for the rest of their lives. Why couldn’t they all just live in peace and create works of ART instead?

She turned to her father. He was now mostly encased in his suit of armor. The place where he would live out his remaining days.

“Why…….Father. Why do you have to do this?”

Zaas Chuckled as he placed a hand on his daughter’s cheek.

“What sort of leader would I be if I sent all these men and women off to a dangerous war and did not join them? I must do this and lead them into battle. Someone else might have gotten it wrong.”

Taas cried further, turning her head so she was now crying directly into his hand.

“B…but…”

Zaas moved his daughter off his hand and crushed through her hair with his fingers.

“I do this to keep you and the rest of the clan safe. So that you can live in the peace and make all the ART that you wish. Myself and the other Vivaldi Crusaders will be the bulwark that always protects the clan. What is important is that YOU will be safe.”

He moved away from his daughter as they began to finish up his armor. Taas watched as they finished, through teary eyes. Her father was now in armor and prepared to march with others to war.


1. CO-OP Action: WAR


2. Crafting:
Weapons and Armor for Vivaldi Crusaders
Nursery (For taking care of Children)

Free Action: Feed some of the blood/oil to Brainstorm (Clan Horror)

Give Taas we got 1 t8 steel and 1 t8 golem leather to make something.

 

[Cosmo]

Seimari
Turn 3

Kostis [Leader]: Passionatex2, Artist, Bravex2, Deceitfulx2, Power Hungry, Glory Seeker, Spiteful and Messy
Hope [Wife]: Generous, Benevolent, Stable, Warmx2 and Impatient
Thaleia [Daughter of Kostis]: Passionate, Humorous, Tinker and a Pariah

------------------------------------

It was a strange thing, a crisis. At first it seemed large and overwhelming, but when broken apart into smaller, more manageable sections, it became easier to handle. There was also the simple fact that a crisis was going to play its course regardless of the whims of man, so bemoaning or dreading its coming would not slow it. It merely came and all they could do was endure and manage. Each day seemingly harder then the last until it.. wasn't. Until it, like breaking it into smaller pieces, became more manageable. Humans were nothing if not adaptable to their surroundings. This adaption happened even faster if the barrage of of crisis were unrelenting. The great sporing of the world, the revival of Adam, the attempted assassination of Hope, the assassination of Enyo by the Sikander, the empowered darkness, the naked ambition of the Concordat. It was almost comical, the sheer amount of 'big crisis' that had occurred in the matter of days. The Seimari and Sephirah were becoming inured to the news at this point. What was another scream of doom when the world was already on the brink? The Seimari would endure as they always had. The throne was restored, their hope rekindled, and life sprang anew even in this time of troubles.

------------------------------------

Free Actions
1. 'Feeding' 43 Tiers of mats {Including 3 T10 that cover each type, so feeding it a T10 relic} and 22 Units of Food to my Horror
{Burning it to the egg? Mushing it up into a large paste and gently rubbing it into the egg while whispering sweet nothings? Either way! Argos must be grown big and strong}

2. Recommitting Kostis union to Hope near the Cistern in the Ekes and celebrating with a Performance {Hope has Social 30} detailing the triumph over Adam {Both times}
{Have skill Performance, and using: A Sweet Day Near the Lake
If you hold a union by a body of water (or recommit a union as a free action by water) the effects on bloodline are improved by 50%}

3. DREAM
Once per generation you may have a dream scene with mysterious benefits/revelations. If desired, this scene may be completely private.

Standard Actions
Co-Op Action: Helping the Sages with their immortality ritual

Co-Op: March.. to WAR against Waffle or God or whomever it is now. [Maybe see if I can find some cool plants on the way, Herbalism has to Herbalism]​

 

[Pat]

Turn 3



At first there was only darkness wrapped in darkness.
All this was only unillumined cosmic water.
That One which came to be, enclosed in nothing,
arose at last, born of the power of knowledge.

-​

Material possessions weigh upon the soul, that much is true, but it is not just faith that guides her tribe. All that cannot travel with them is ultimately made ancillary to their nomadic life or discarded. Lleu encapsulates that way of thinking, bearing their few remaining treasures upon his back as they travel the breadth of the world.

Yet now she seemed set on beginning anew for the last time. Without Ceridwen, with Benyameel, and in a fixed location that will, one way or another, become her final resting place. Maybe even her home.

Arianrhod doesn’t know what comes next. So little can be relied upon. She just knows what comes after. A dream realized that will pass the torch to the next generation, daring them to escape the shadows of their forebears.

-

Orders
​

1. Pacify the dirt-water shore.

2. Settle the dirt-water.

 

[palmtree219]

Turn 3

Inaris​

---

"-is a greater threat than some plant!" "Utter foolishness! So we just leave ourselves open to-" "-about our new allies? Can they not help?"

A dozen angry voices echoes through the meeting-cave, each one either raising valid points or voicing some fear or another. At the "head" of the group, Cormyr Inaris watched in silence before gesturing towards his daughter who stood a few feet off to his side. At the signal, the girl raised her glaive slightly before stabbing it back down at the ground. Immediately, the room grew silent as the glare of fire and light burst out around her, leaving her unharmed.

With the room's attention now grabbed, Cormyr stood from his seat. "Enough. We are Inaris, not the Yanmen or Seimari. Control yourselves." He took a moment to stare each member of the tribal council in the eyes. "Never before have we stood in the position we stand now. Our people have a home. Allies. Power. We can withstand outside threats here in our mountain, but only if we secure our position now. We have double our number in local refugees who are scared and were unprepared for these events. We must secure their loyalty."

Cormyr gestured towards his daughter once again, prompting her to step up next to him. She knew her part in this, so spoke up once she was at his side. "I have been amongst the refugees these past few days, learning and listening. The change in lifestyle and the lack of home comforts is.. difficult for them." She raised a hand, palm outward, to silence a couple councilmembers' grumbles about weakness. "So, I propose an expedition. We return in force to their old homes. Secure whatever we can, then bring it here. Become their new home, completely and permanently."

"And," Cormyr added, "deny others the resources that they've left as they fled. Along the way, our people will search for resources that the Peaks can exploit, strengthening our position further." The tribe leader glared at a couple of his usual detractors. "This is not up for debate. With the infiltrator destroying the Chapel of the Sages, we must secure ourselves here before we can worry about distant foes."

His detractors were not particularly pleased with this, but the rest of the council, all growing slightly fat off of the food set aside for them by Cormyr, easily talked them down. Such was the way of the Inaris tribal council; at least under Cormyr.

---

ACTIONS:

1) Arryn Inaris begins instructing the Dancers, trolls, and refugees in the finer points of killing monsters. The promising young of the tribe are to be instructed in her Monster Slayer dance, so its secrets are kept past the hope's generation.

Relevant things-
Arryn (Hope):
+[Level-headed x2]
+[Clever]
+[Dynamic]
+[Monsterslayer]
+[lore (monsters)] 10
+[Construction expertise]
+[Tactician]
-[Remorseless]

2) The influx of refugees has... well... not strained the tribe's resources, but definitely impacted them. Cultures have mixed with some tensions, and fear from the spores has spread through the people. Cormyr believes that returning to the home of the refugees and allowing them to bring their valuables back to the Peaks would go a long way to both relieving resource issues and cultural tensions, as well as buy their loyalty. Along the way, attention will be paid to the environment for any resource deposits that can be found, as well as any sign of the Ashera's dracomastodon. (Strained)

Relevant things -
Cormyr (leader):
+[Level-headed x2]
+[Flexible]
+[Efficient]
-[Blunt]
-[Reckless]
-[Corruptible]

Arryn (Hope):
+[Level-headed x2]
+[Clever]
+[Dynamic]
+[Monsterslayer]
+[lore (monsters)] 10
+[Construction expertise]
+[Tactician]
-[Remorseless]

Omen (The Polluted):
+Can eat any spores still in the area.
+Flying and [Monster Rider] with Arryn for scouting.

 

[Auriel Maza]

On Hope's Wings - [WIP, Almost Done]​

Ascension

We're using gradients of light as an auric measurement, a quantified auric measurement of the ascension of consciousness from the relatively sensorial, material perceptions of existence to the more refined spiritual perceptions of existence.

Frederick Lenz

Karak Xygaras - Turn 3
Snapshot of Karak

Ancestries: Manifestations [x2] & Archonborn

Perks: Strong [x4], Rational, Educated, Cultured [x3]

Quirks: Rebellious, Absent-Minded, Monstrous, Hedonistic.

Dropped Quirks: Dubious

Descriptors: Healthy, Fast, Gargantuan Strength. Purity Against Seg, Low-light Vision, Social 20, Stealth 70, +1 to all death saves, Scythe Weapon Mastery, Weathermancy.

Martial Score: 3d6+2

Lores: Plants 10, Psionics 15, Darkness 15, People 12, Monsters 6.
Turn 3 Actions

1. [Co-op] Rescue Operation with TWSB. (Already processed in TWSB post.) (Noting for record.)
2. [Solo] Using Psionics 15, the Book of Black Sands, When Swords Sing book, etc. to develop martial arts. (Has already been given out on discord. But, should there be additional let me know.)

[Above, depiction of Eden as Karak finds her. Filled with branches.]

Dive For Eden[Post Theme] - [The Citadel] - [Karak]

[The Italics in the center are lyrics of the post theme. The chorus and refrain is purposely skipped.]

"I dream in phosphorescence..."​

The Ceiling. The stories truly don't compare to it. And all crowd around me to implore me to list its qualities. The color, the texture, the scene; place the utter height I had been in words. And yet, as the words of light and darkness tickle across my tongue. My air, my breath obeyed not. For they knew no words could do it justice. For my mind wandered. Even as the great beast descended upon me with its claw. Wonder fell upon me, my mind left me and my body simply listened to instincts. And I did not where I was until the elemental came for me. And in that great fall, I could hear a voice. (Absent-Minded) One I had grown to enjoy its company. Time-to-time I would her voice would sing into my mind, even before I truly understand what singing truly was. And her words, I could not understand. Comprehension, capable. Requisite knowledge of the language, negative. And so, I've spent many scattered moments mulling over her words. And when I approached the ceiling, her voice overcame me and enthralled I was.... She was calling me. At least, that is what it seemed. Which I should know better than to just accept. (Rational) But, my heart aches to truly know. As something within tells me that the time is now. That I could learn more about this voice, this companion I've had. A friend for which consoled me after Karan's death, after my father's suicide... For I have searched every book, talked with each elder, and discerned from the ancient that I could. None could gleam me insight into her. But, when I dove into chilling waters, I entered a trance. My body slowed down, became detached, and the ethereal of my blood took over. And next, I awoken in another place, seemingly separate of our own. Glimpses into more, and I've wondered ever since what the birth of the Archons have wrought. What have we become? What exactly? For even benign transformations beg that question. (Rational)

Else than the next stage of Niko's vision. I had doubted it, doubted myself. But, I know better. Doubt cannot withhold the current... the tide for which I find myself wading through. All the questions, the mysteries, the oddities that lie in my blood and mind. And so, to finally make more headway, I stand on the boardwalk of the Athenaeum with a tub of the coldest water, ice at the brims of it. In the dark, for the light inhibits the trance. A younger me would have thought this insane. Perhaps it is. To poke myself into things not knowing what lies ahead. But... my heart tells me to do so. And it I have never denied. (Rebellious) And so in the dark, I enter the tub, holding Rowan's hand as he looked upon me with concern. Shiver's as the warmth leaves me, as chills permeate throughout me. Drifting to my head, I slowly plunge into the waters and I could feel the glow emanate from my skin, pouring into the ice cubes. And soon, my skin returned to normal and the ice glittered with a soft rose color. Roses... a flower extinct now. And yet, I feel it inside me... and know of it somehow.

And then Rowan stood over me, holding my hand, "If you must do this my Shepard, find her. Find whatever you are looking for. But, come back to me..."

"Have you ever doubted my strength? I will come back to you. And with answers to my burning questions." (Strong x4)

"Bleed through spaces..."​

The physical behind me. I tread into unknown places, unknown lands. Space that has no volume, of no time. How maddening it would be for most. But, reason my counsel leaves me to set expectations and lower my sense of normalcy. Any that I have will be torn to tatters here. For this is not my world, but the world, the place where she resides... a world for which I have little to go on. And so I arrive, on a silky, liquid-solid surface. Black as the gloom. Laying upon it, I see the twinkles of many tiny lights above me. To my feet, I see before me a glowing ring, the strongest light here and all that could be seen. I looked back into the nothingness, into the gloom. Perhaps the way to my world laid there. In what way, it was not my task to determine, at least for now. And time... being precious. My body can last, but not forever. I must find her... and any other clues I can. Silent, eerily silent. Yet, I felt safe. Alone in this place. I took a sniff with my nose. The smell of rain; cleaner, sparkling rain that felt purifying. Droplets dripped down my skin... I certainly wasn't going to drench my clothes if I could help it. Thinking now, if any such armor could have been useful in this endeavor, it may have been wise to drench it anyway. But as I look down, light dripped from my fingers and legs like rootcream. Likely my body's strength to endure the icy waters fading. Least, I have something to base my progress on. I walk around the space, but nothing found. And quickly, I stepped through the ring, a portal of some kind.

And the scene changed.

"See you drifting past the fog
But no one told you where to go
We dive through crystal waters
Perfect oceans
But no one told me not to breathe
And now the weightlessness recedes..."​

Fog. First, there was fog. Condensing on my skin, cold. Chilling. What sensation do more than remind me of my physical existence? Perhaps they show this place in relation to my soul. Or the being of this place in more... symbolic ways. (Rational) Cold... perhaps the warmth of a intact soul has not wandered these halls in a long time. Shivering bones, shivering spines. Danger, death surrounds... nothing new. In the shivering fog, I wander towards the strange lights in the center. Perhaps the cold of my body followed me here. But, I doubt it so. Never has it done so before. Isolation, to focus on the ethereal, to leave the temptations and leadings of the false lights behind. To seek the truth. To seek the true center of it all. To reclaim and conjure what Niko saw. And from there... we will determine then. And she... her voice calls to me for this reason... for when I conjured the Light of Hope for the first time in my breast... in my younger days. I heard her voice. Young, very young I was. Barely above the age of a toddler. Karan by my side... The first time she spoke. Perhaps, history must repeat. So, with the bleeding light of my body's fading strength, I engulfed my hand in Hope and the fog faded near me, ringing like mithril against celestial gold. The ring stole the show of the space, echoing out for so long. Was I still alone? Must be so. For such a sound would surely attract something in my world. Isolation... this path is a lonely path for which no Yanmen or Vivaldi could accompany. And drift I do through the fog, holding the light. Letting rings flow through the air. And drift and drift and drift. Yet, nothing changes. The scene paralyzed.

Have I looked up? Crystals... water... Was I at the bottom of some great body of water... what the ancients called an ocean? (Cultured x3) A weight in my chest as my feet left the ground... I was tempted to resist. But, the endless walking would yield nothing. Breathes became harder. Soon, water began filling my lungs. It was water... but it wasn't. Something else. As if my mind... my soul was being filled with something... seeing if it could survive this trial. For any brute can kill a monster. But, can his soul outlast simple yet enduring trials? (Rational). Soon, I choke. I cannot breathe, if breathing could be done with the soul. Little spoken in the books, in the tales. For the soul lies out of reach. The most personal, impersonal in its presence. Yet, it bleeds its will everywhere around a person. A paradox, beyond all reason leads to a path higher...

"Well, yeah, I spit blood when I wake up
Sink porcelain stained, choking up brain matter and make-up
Just two days since the mainframe went down and I'm still messed up
Room feels like a meat freezer I dangle in like cold cuts
Missed calls, answer phones from people I just don't trust
Mirror talk, fake love
But I'll take a pound of your flesh before you take a piece of my paystub
White roses, black doves
Godmother, rise up
I need you to see me for what I have become..."​

Consciousness returns to me. Blood spilling from my mouth. A top the waves, the water... was I truly spilling blood from my mouth... It must be an allegory for something.

"Blood of the body, palatable to ilk. Inferior. Blood of soul, mythic... forgotten. Burning in power. Palatable to the truth."

Her words... I could understand! Blood this was... Mythic? Forgotten? Could she mean that... once souls could bleed? But... why? What purpose could such do? Why did it fade from us? Could my dripping light be a bleed of some kind? Like that of my mind? But, she speaks of the folly of the Sephirah. How their quest would never give them what they desired... But, what she has alluded to begets my curiosity. Why that reason? Perhaps she knows my reasons for speaking of it as a folly. Why waste breath saying what was already said. (Rational) Coughing bellowed from me as I fell on all fours upon the water. Laying upon it as the ground. Blood of my soul spills into the water. Darkness recedes. I heaved and heaved. Fucked up beyond belief. Fucked up beyond what I could have imagined. Pain... a pain I could not envision. One that words fail to assign. So cold... my body caked in ice. Most would call this torture. Quaking, I fall to my stomach, the pain so much. So much... regret, rejection, dishonesty, hatred... not of my own. But of others. As all of their taint lingering upon me, upon my soul.

"Bleed to pure, capacity to bleed... capacity for pain... Pain for a purpose... Indifference... temperance... identical to lesser minds. Lines of immutable exclusivity. And yet, blunted to uselessness without passion's endurance... Lines easy to façade, immutable and impossible to forge anew aside its present."

Wiping away the sickness, the wrong of my world. Pain is not an evil thing, if done for the right things. For the right reasons and right means. The quaking, the begging of mine for it to end. Was it good? Did it make me weak to feel it?

"Sides... two... incorrect. Pain, love born the same, the one. Folly to the thoughts of two."

For if you lose one, you truly lose both? Only one to lose?

"Yes."

Slowly, I clot and the drip stops. The pain dissipates. And I look into the mountain, this strange great orb of light in the sky. Perhaps that strange sun thing that book spoke of? Could be. How clear and beautiful it was. Its light clean and refreshing... unlike the light of the lanterns. A feeling for which only my kin would discern. A show that the truth comes to us as we come to it. I walk to shore. I hear her song. Running or more sprinting through the surface of the water, my eyes find themselves compelled to a tunnel. Am I pure? Or beginning to heal?

"I will travel far beyond the path of reason
Take me back to Eden
Take me back to Eden
Take me back to Eden..."​

Eden... that was her name. Her song, one I remember she sung the most sounded weird at times. For it was not hers to sing... but mine. Teaching me the lyrics so that when I found her, when we collided for the first time. She would not sing for me. I would sing for her. I sprint through the mountain. The pain, the torture I endured meaningless to this quest. For what I seeked was within grasp. For she expected me, planned this for me. And now, I know what to say. What to serenade to her. Deep within the mountain, an abandoned hall. Disrepair and of construction I could not identify. Certainly ancient it was. Beyond what even those that came before my bloodline, before the gloom enshadowed the world. What they could even understand themselves. Somehow... I know it so. For what I chased, was antediluvian. Beyond what reason could even uncover. Reason my guide, my counsel. Was just that. A guide. And for returning it to the proper sphere, I found more than it could give. For at last, I found her... in her beautiful gold dress. Worn and yet as I approached, it glowed more and more. Phosphorescence... Perhaps this was not a one sided exchange. Was it ever?

"My, my, those eyes like fire
I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
Come now, bite through these wires
I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
Reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher
Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire..."​

My voice called out to her. To Eden.