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[Dest]

Planar Chaos

The Phyrexian Invasion has been defeated, the Blind Eterneties have been breached, and the multiverse is more connected than ever before. Omenpaths, gateways with which to traverse from Plane to Plane, have begun to open across the vast realms and have allowed even the most average of a Plane's denizens to go on journeys previously only available to Planeswalkers, the mythical figures that travel the Planes under their own power. Now is a time for the leaders of previously isolated Planes to make their marks, forming grand alliances, creating prosperity and trade, or burning each other's worlds to nothing in attempts to conquer all the realms. Now, is the time for the chaos to begin.

The Main Posting thread, each turn will be posted and processed here.​

 

[Trektek]

Planar Chaos

Delura, Red Lands

Alassa The Flame Bard



The current nightmare of wars has ended. But will it merely be the beginning of a new series of wars? Or will it actually become a time of unprecedented peace and empowerment of those who seek to take the initiative and grow their lands and their people.

Alassa wished to grow her people and her lands. At present, she did not want conflict. But there is a growing number of her followers who feel this way. So only time will tell if the people of Delura will become and endless deluge of chaos upon the extraplanar lands.

She currently keeps her people in check with songs and tales of greatness that they are and for that they could be.

She encourages them to take out their aggressions in a coliseum from which she can write songs of their greatness and plays that will bring about the awe and splendor of them to the people.

The Goblins that wish to make machines, she plays sweet nothings to on her instruments. She wants them to craft, to envision their greatness upon the universe. Whether the machines make sense to those outside or not, is not something that she needs to worry about.

What matters is that they can benefit the people. If it is a way to benefit through war, then so be it. But some technology will allow them to grow beyond their borders. Some will have them be……MORE.


—----------------------------------

Alassa got up on stage to her adoring fans. She would give them the performance that would set the mood on their venture out into the great unknown. They had not much experience with the outer planes. But her people were strong, at least in Spirit and Mind, if not always in Body.

The light came on and the curtain opened to the large crowd of Goblins, Orcs and Ogres, all cheering and clapping for her. She was their voice, the emissary of her people. A simple Goblin Bard. But one that was revered by all for what she has done for them so far.

And with those thought, she began to strum on her guitar:

“What once was old
Is now to be new
The place was bold
But now is as a shrew.
We must rebuild
We must renew.
The people we are
Will Refine Who?

The time is now
To decide our Fate.
We can’t let slip
Or we’ll let the Gate
Close in our faces
Blocking the Door
We must look forward
Even more than before.

There is only One Path
One path that I trust
Technology Growth,
Is a Must.

Aggression will be
Something that we see.
Inside our brand new coliseum
Fighters rejoice
Fighters begin
Their stories to be told
Right on a win.

So life is giving us
A grand start.
A place to Begin
To grow Our hearts.
We'll show the other planes
We’ll show them we know
We’ll show them our Might
And how much we can grow.

So let’s rejoice.
Let me know.
Give a holler
And then we’ll go!

As soon as the song ended, there was a roar throughout the building along with stomping and clapping. Some goblins were throwing each other up in the air, while some Orcs were also throwing some goblins up in the air.

They were overjoyed once more by Alassa’s music and would follow her to the ends of the planes if they had to.

Action 1: Construct a Coliseum so that the warriors might hone their skills and play to the crowd.

Action 2: Have the Goblin Engineers create some new weapons.

 

[Crocodile]

Marduke the Soulforger
Vizaria

​

---

The Soulforge thrummed with its usual activity. Various beings of artifice moving about on their assigned tasks to ensure the latest projects were being seen to. The spire had a pulse to it with that thrum, like a heartbeat. For a place of metal and magic, it could almost feel alive for it had a pulse that its own master lacked save for the ticking of clockwork within his own innards. The lich artificer known as Marduke the Soulforger lived up to his name quite well. Many living things were brought here to have their souls and lifeforce extracted, to be remade into beings of metal.

Vizaria was a realm its master had been quietly building for some time since he'd completed his own transition from mere mortal to undead artificer. Others he made to expand his workforce and to guard his treasures from those who might seek him out. Even now though, he was beginning to realize the need to expand and build his world and holdings more. He needed more black mana to source and feed his soul workings, for while blue flowed well to bend metals and assemble machines, the souls were the true power and means by which his devices could work and think. To be reborn and gifted with a form of immortality, given true purpose in their often empty lives.

His will now was to scry for such sources, the need to find them. Even as he did so, he realized he needed to stabilize relation with the closest Factory Cities, lets they come to view him as something to fight. They were sources of innovation and thought, driven by the need to know or surpass challenges. He loved them for this very outlook, thus he must work to forge his own realm more fully under his influence. Beyond this, he had scryed upon the realms that had begun to link with Vizaria with an intense curisoity. Many held potential for new souls to be dragged here and converted to his service. Others presented much needed lands he could seize and merge with is own realm to grow it. This would make more Factory Cities emerge as those seeking new lives elsewhere would seek to build. A lovely cycle of expansion and inspiration to feed his designs perfectly. Perhaps he would reach out to this curious realm he'd seen. The locals called it... Plunasa.​

---

Actions
1. Marduke will seek out black mana sources to increase his access to it.
2. Marduke will engaged with the nearest Factory City to seek forging relations and alliance.
Movement: Marduke will Planeswalk to Plunasa to seek those in power there to negotiate and examine the plane more closely. Auriel Maza​

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Noah the Uniter
Hopesprout, on the Plane of Alaxius

Actions
1. Noah will seek out cradles of white and black mana to increase his power.
2. Noah will organize and be a part of delving missions into the ruins of Alaxius's cities, seeking artifacts of power.
Movement: Noah will remain on Alaxius, until the plane is sufficiently empowered enough to resist incursions or monsters in his absence.

---

Hopesprout bustles with the sound of people. Alaxius had come together after so long- finally united after a single cause. It had only taken a war that broke the plane to do so. Noah, masked and be-hatted, stands before a crowd of delegates. Warriors and nomads, traders and farmers and scavengers, of a thousand tribes and settlements. They strained their ears to hear his words, to know what the future would hold.

"Phyrexia is dead. The multiverse lies open."

Noah speaks to the crowd, stoking passions with a preacher's voice.

"What will it find here? Yet lawless savages? Easy victims for conquest? No, brothers and sisters, it will find us ready! It will find us strong, working as one!"

He raises a fist.

"Alaxius will rise, my brothers and sisters- and this time, it will not be God-Machines that decide our fate! It will be men!"

 

[CaptainSully]

Arachnimedes

Turn 1​

The canopy of the trees was so thick that deep below at ground level, darkness prevailed save for a few shafts of piercing light. The Grove as it was known was close to the former front line during the Phyrexian invasion, the smell of smoke still lingered in the air weeks after. Through the thick darkness footsteps and rushed scurrying could be heard, the unmistakable sound of insects moving like a tidal wave to their destination. Then through a shaft of light he walked, the Saviour of Albion, the Protector of the Forest, Arachnimedes.

He was an imposing figure, standing head and shoulders above any mortal man. His true power did not come from his size or even the array of spikes and talons he had at his disposal, it was his ability to command the insects of his home. As he moved out of the light a vast swarm of insects was revealed following close behind.

With each step Arachnimedes took, he found the darkness beginning to lift around him. A strange blue glow was reaching out towards him, growing from something he had never seen before. Crossing the top of a mound the source of the glow came into sight.

“This is a grave concern…” he said, looking at a large, blue portal before him. The whispers of the insects with him all asked the same thing, “...Phyrexians?”

“I think not, this does not marry with their own portals…this is something different,” Arachnimedes said with concern in his voice.

The concern was not enough to stop him from approaching the swirling blue portal to inspect it further.

“Until we know what this is, we must be prepared for anything to come through it. Set up defences and keep it under observation at all times. Should anyone or anything come through, be prepared to repel them.”


Action 1:

Set up defences around the portal, ready to meet anything or anyone that comes through.

Action 2:

Regrow the forest destroyed by the Phyrexian's to improve mana generation.

Movement:

Send a small group of insectoid warriors through the portal and they arrive in Delura to conduct diplomacy.

 

[Megilagor]

Solair the keeper of Natures Cycle​

Sol city on the plane of Silvasol​

Turn 1​

Fluff
"Listed to me children of this plane. The Phyrexian invaders are dead, but they left scars within the multiverse, the ways they entered each realm remain open allowing for entry to the planes. But we shall be prepared for anyone. I already asked the Driders to remain vigilant and watch over the Omenpaths, while we prepare. So children of Silvasol, let's raise together, live and fight together, and continue our lives here! I will need Groga and Darmien with me to my hut we have stuff to discuss. Everyone else is dismissed!" Said Solair to the citizens of the Sol city sometime during the noon, or rather the time they communally concluded as noon. After his speech, Solair came down from the platform in the middle of the city and started walking to his small hut by the city walls. Beside him walked a big hairy dwarf by the name of Groga, he was the chief excavator in the dwarven corps, along with him came Darmien a tall and lanky drow, the defacto scout and explorer of the realm and one of the many leaders of the drow corps.

When they arrived at Solair's hut, he brewed tea for the three of them and after drinking a bit he spoke to them.
"Friends we are in dire times/ When the Phyrexians came we somehow repelled them by gathering every living thing within this realm and fighting against them, but we knew our enemies. This time we do not know what will come out of those Omenpaths and when, so we need to prepare and grow stronger. So you Groga along with a group of glowing fungi towards the ruins from the time of this planes formation, your mission is to scour them for any relic, artifact or magical item you can find, even those magical rocks will do, for all is helpful when we need to prepare. Now for you Darmien, you and me we shall travel the realm in search for more mana veins, they are after all important for our expansion and maintenance. Now go to your people, prepare them well and we move out when we are ready. I pray for our safe travels and bountiful harvests."
The drow and dwarf had known Solair for a while, one of the oldest sentient beings in the realm the one who established the biggest city on the plane of Silvasol, his words to them were truth itself, so they quickly drank their tea said their goodbyes and went off to prepare for their missions. And so did Solair, albeit he was a scrawny treefolk, it did not mean he couldn't fight, he walked slowly to the wall of his house and took down his spear from the wall along with a small shield while saying. "It's been a while since I wielded you two, the last time was at the start of the Phyrexian war when i commanded the front lines to defend our planes but I pick you up yet again to prepare our realm against new possible invaders. Ehhh when will we have a true moment of peace, probably when a true sun rises in our sky, even if it's impossible I just have to hope for it." He then squeezed his armaments tightly and used them a bit to get the rust out of his system before moving out to meet with his companions.

Actions

Current mana: 2 Blue, 4 Red, 2 Green.
Acquired mana since last turn: 0
Spent mana this turn: 0
Current trade goods: 1
Acquired trade goods since last turn: 0
Spent trade goods this turn: 0

Action 1: Solair and the drow corps will seek out Blue and Green mana veins within their realm.
Action 2: Solair sends the dwarven corps along with some fungi to the mountainous area to look for relics and artifacts that have remained there since the formation of the plane.
Movement: Solair remains on the plane of Silvasol.

 

[mausedpotatos]

TURN 1

Out of all of Whistlelow's history, her people had been adventurous. A nearly endless countryside of rolling emerald hills, verdant forests, and horseshoe rivers had succeeded in making the sheep people living therein quite complacent. Their complacancy was not one of inactivity, but a fearlessness of consequences. Low carnivorous animals which did exist were of a serpentine, turtle, or hawk variety. The serpents were slow and easily spotting among the grass if one knew how to spot them, which every Whistlite did. Primarily aquatic, turtles were a minor threat contained to the central lake of the continent. Hawks, admittedly the most terrifying spectre which loomed, were overly large and thus confined to far off caves where their oversized filthy roosts could be made. Occasionally these birds of prey would fly above the continent and the Whistlites would give shrieks of terror, giving way left and right as the shadow of the great beast sped over their homes. A militia would then assemble out of the panic and the avian would hastily reconsider after a volley. Poorly hidden snakes were plentiful outside the occupied territories, and giant hawks preferred their chewy meat anyhow. Adventurousness, after having taken the proper precautions against these few true threats, had soaked into the fabric of Whistlelow's people in her colonists, surveyors, and their hampers. Colonists were raised by multiple villages when their available supply of farmland had been subdivided until it could be divided no more, and a new village had to be made elsewhere in a fantastic showing of carts, stockpiling, and the usual band to keep up spirits. Surveyors journeyed out from the boundaries of the villages into the unoccupied territories to chart the still uninhabited areas. Naturally, these uninhabited areas would sometimes be close to giant hawk mountains and sometimes an unlucky surveyor team would never return. Hampers were what Whistlelow called her standing militia. Lake Ironesse, the great lake at the center of the continent, had been tragically afflicted with an infestation of water serpents for as long as anyone had known. Unlike their easily spotted land-dwelling cousins who either starved or satiated a hawk, the Ironessian water serpents posessed true intelligence. Their scales were hued a light blue and their fangs dripped clear venom. In addition, they could speak. When the rains which perpetually hung over Lake Ironesse were right, the weather warm enough, and enough months passed, the terrible Ironessian's would undergo a spawning fit. Months later, the beasts would slither out from the lake in all directions, ever-hungry. So far the menace of the water serpents had been contained, though not by the Whistlites. The truth was that the great lake was the only lake capable of sustaining the beasts. Rivers were too swift for spawning clutches, land was too dry, and there were not practical lakes near enough to Ironesse for long term survival. The Whistlites had long ago filled in all of the lakes for miles around the exclusion zone just to be absolutely certain. In fact, this is why natural lakes around the continent had been objects of suspicion--why take the risk of giving some lucky Ironessian serpent a wooly meal?

Attempts had been made at diplomacy with these neighbors multiple times, each time with the same ending. Awful laughter would bellow out, and far-away observers would see the diplomats scatter pitifully, before meeting their ends as food. And so, the hampers were needed to 'hamper' every and any attempt by the Ironesse serpents at expansion, migration, predation, and all snake mischief. Hampers were also responsible for choking new rivers to or from the great lake, as well as any growing ponds near the Lake.

Wistlelow's inhabitants are sheep humanoids. Regular sheep do exist and live in harmony with their larger relatives, never for meat, but for cheese and wool. Many families will keep runt sheep as household pets. Unintuitively, 'regular' sheep as men known them are called 'seepi'. Sheeple, in any manner, would be a slur and would result in hospitality being rescinded if such a phrase were used under anothers roof. Sheeple refer to themselves as 'sheep' in the singular and sheepi in the plural. They are comparably large to men. All of their body hair is white and woolish. Diet-wise, they subsist off of special wheat grasses called Gramine which are easier to digest for a higher mammal, but in a pinch will hold their noses and chew grass. Chewing grass is a sign of starvation or desperation, as their stomaches can barely digest it. Over-consumption of grass will lead to ill-health.

Sheeple culture indicates an afterlife where there are no giant hawks to fear, no Ironesse, and the gramine grows beside every stalk of grass. This paradise is reserved for good citizens who make offerings to the Emeraldite, their supposed god. Worship is conducted at maypoles, with children closest to center and the priest balanced atop the maypole. On several occasions the worship ceremony became too fervent, and the frantic running of sheeple caused the priest atop the maypole to become trapped in ropes and tied to the maypole, whose tangles and joinings often take an entire village's brainpower to puzzle out. It is said that poor priests find themselves 'accidentally' tied up again and again, perhaps forgotten overnight without any supper, if they do not remedy their shortcomings.

---

Action 1: Whistlelow sends surveyors to scout their land fully, unsure of what they may find.

Action 2: Interested parties begin trying to build a tower to heaven. It is hoped this tower will be the maypole to end all maypoles, and that the priest who stands atop it as all sheeple dance beneath will gaze at the face of the Emeraldite.

Movement: N/A

 

[LucasGhost]

The Plane of Caelondia
Mancer
-Turn 1-

The winds were fair in Sector 1 of Caelondia and the Mancer touched down atop the First Wall of the Caels as smoothly as any of the Wardens. Behind them stretched the various fisheries set into the cliff faces and small vessels sat adrift on the waterways; before them sat the relatively untamed rock and stone of Sector 7. They tried not to think on Sector 7, of what had resulted from the last expedition, but this was official Mancer business, and as such some things needed to be faced head on.

It is not long until a Wall Warden diverts from his usual patrol to land beside them, thick blue and brown clothing and gleaming brassy buckles, a clear indication of his position of a guardian of the Caels. The sight of the uniform shoots a familiar and expected pang through the Mancer’s heart. The Warden simply bows his head and raises a clawed hand in greeting, “I am Warden Isin. To what does the First Wall owe a visit from the Mancers?”

“I am here to deliver a letter, and to apologize for what it contains,” the Mancer retrieves the sturdy parchment from their pack, slightly rumpled from the flight over, but the wax seal depicting a lyre is still intact.

Isin takes it carefully, and, not risking the disrespect of reading it now, folds it and places it within one of his many pockets. “I expect another expedition is to be taken? How long do we have to prepare?” His expression is guarded but the displeasure in his voice is plain as day.

“Once it is deemed that the records have been consulted in their entirety, we shall begin; two weeks to six months from now, depending on whether anything of use is found.” The Mancer spares a glance to Sector 7 as they speak. It was the only surrounding Sector that still was not enclosed, and it had taken two generations of Mancers to finally set fixing that very fact into motion. And yet, were it not for them, that very task would have been abandoned once more after the last expedition. It had taken too much, but it was all the more reason why the task should not be abandoned, the loss could not be for nothing.

Isin nods. There is only disgrace in arguing with the Mancers, (unless you yourself were also a Mancer, at which point it became how you spent the waking hours of your days.) “Very well, I will inform the others. You have my thanks for your personal visit, Mancer.” With that he gives a small bow of his head, and with a few strong flaps of his wings, takes off over the edge of the wall to resume his patrol once more.

The Mancer lingers once he is gone, eyes returning to the jagged peaks of Sector 7. On and on it goes, allowing dangers to crawl right up to their doorstep. They cannot allow such things to happen again. They cannot allow Oran’s passing to be in vain. Tearing their eyes away, they turn back towards the heart of Caelondia, and take to the skies as well. There is still much work to be done.

---

Action 1: Delve into the collections of the Mancers in search of additional spells.

Action 2: Survey the land beyond the First Wall for anything of note.

 

[Abstracty]

Turn 1
Satyrnos, The Eldest Sage
Free Realm of Bornholm
​

The playful tunes of colorful songbirds accompanied a small group of Aelven travelers as they approached a large town surrounded by rich orchards and fields thick with golden wheat. They would often exchange joyful greetings with others, as the influx of Aelves into the town constantly grew from each road and hidden trail. Even a few Runkerl had joined them, their much larger bodies sticking out in any crowd, especially those with extensive flower decorations in their hair. They would willingly carry tired Aelves for the last stretch of the way, as the pilgrims poured into town for the impending celebration. The transition from summer to autumn was as important a ritual as any of the four great seasonal changes, announcing the beginning of the harvest and brewing time. Inside town, many pilgrims were eagerly awaited by distand family members, but the hospitality was extended to any acquaintances made along the road. Flower wreaths were exchanged as gifts and a few had tasted the sweet wines early and were already dancing on the streets.
Behind the darkened windows of the city halls tower, though, the mood was much different. "We cannot hide it from the people any longer!", a displeased voice cut through the somber silence of the small council. "Count Vaipunos, we cannot risk a disturbance to the festivities...", a much softer voice tried to calm an enraged nobleman, but it seemed like the tall Aelve disagreed. "The disturbance to the entire realm will be much greater, if we just sit idle!", Vaipunos countered, tossing his chalice to the side in a fit of rage, causing the rest of the council to descend into a ruckus. Accusation were thrown around and wild discussion followed, until a single, clear ringing of a small bell cut through the room, stunning everybody into silence. "My dear Lords and Ladies... our guest of honor has arrived.", a young servant simply announced, causing everybody to discontinue their arguments, as a majestical Aelve adorned in a shining white dress elegantly sashayed into the room. Slowly all heads bowed down and those who had just been yelling felt ashamed for it. The Lady in White slowly lifted the flower wreath from her head, kissing it slowly before placing it gently in the centre of the councils table. Everyone watched in silence as she continued her walk in a large circle around the table, small flowers and herbs sprouting from wherever her fingertips touched the wood until it was surrounded by new, lively color in its entirety. The moment she finished, the flower wreath in the middle started to twist and transform. Soft petals turned into much sharper, metal versions of themselves and the stems contorted viciously, until an iron crown of thorns had formed. Everyone watched in awe, as she slowly lifted the crown onto her head, not flinching a bit despite the pain the thorns must have been causing. The Lady in White stoically looked towards the council, as a few very small trickles of blood slowly marred her perfect features. "We shall endure the coming storm. Prepare to renew the pact of old. Send message to all clans. Send message to all groves. We shall meet with Sages of the forests and find a way to prepare our home for what might come.", she announced and no one dared argue.


Whilst the festivities continued as planned, a much larger ritual would be held in secret. The recent discoveries of opening portals and other planes weren't to reach the public before the end of the summer. But behind the scenes, the Aelves rallied. The Runkerl meanwhile - more in tune with the ancient forest spirits - had already started preparing. So when Count Vaipunos himself rode out to speak to Satyrnos, the Eldest Sage he was greeted by an expeditionary force ready to get to work. "This world has enjoyed peace for so long... now, we must ready ourselves for war... we know not what horrors might enter our plane, but we must be ready.", Satyrnos and Vaipunos quickly found agreement. "I shall join the festivities only for a bit.", the towering Runkerl announced, stroking through his massive beard of roots while in thought. "Perhaps we will find allies, but first, we must find ourselves yet again. The spirits tell of ancient sources of power yearning to be rediscovered."


Action 1: A council of Aelve and Runkerl Elders will renew the bond of friendship between their people and seal the ritual by forging a new magical enchantment.

Action 2: Satyrnos and some trusted scholars seek to rediscover old sources of white mana.

Movement: N/A

 

[Auriel Maza]

A Song of a Fiction and Guilt​

Who-Am-I?

"Am I a man who became a planeswalker? Or a Spark made into a man? Is anything about me real? Are my memories real? Or just a fiction of Realmbreaker? My Imagination? Please tell me. Because its killing me. I have to know what Wrenn paid for..."

- Caelestis "Cael" "Eight" Laurent

• Fluff
• Actions

• 
  
  
  [Cael, shortly after Wrenn's sacrifice and "returning" to Plunasa.]
  
  
  
  

  Curse of the Fictious
  [Post Theme]
  
  Cael's Prelude
  
  Love, family, friends; the things that hold us together seem strong, stable. But, they're not. Everything is as fragile as wet paper, or as a past version of me might say, the uncompleated. Every time I hear that word, my skin...my spine crawls. Buried deep, hidden young memories, I wanted to forget everything. And in fiction, I got wrapped up believing I had a family. I guess I did. It... felt so real. Marabelle, my daughter. Kendra, my wife. Through a powerful fiction, I lived forty years on Plunasa. Growing up, learning, training in the army. I thought I was Commander Caelestis Laurent. I thought I had two loving parents. I thought I had close friends, an inseparable twin, among others. I thought I was human, with thoughts, aspirations, and dreams. I thought I was so many things. That I had so many things. A fiction that seemed real. Storm... Samael Laurent. Flesh and blood, physical to the touch. Real as he could be. His blank, inquisitive face hurt the most. Kendra and Marabelle never truly existed. Storm, the closest that was real. I held his face first when I saw Plunasa for the first time. When I thought I was coming back. When I stepped from New Phyrexia, I thought I did a full campaign. What a lie. Instead of fighting the Phyrexians, I was helping them. I was the key that let it all happen, let them travel all across the Multiverse.
  
  How insane would it to walk onto a plane, thinking you're a hero. But, I wasn't... No, to Plunasa, to the multiverse, I was someone very different, or something rather. Calling what I was a creature... is cruelty in of itself. I pierced the planes, sundered the time and space of Plunasa. And strangely in-turn, affecting me. Making five from one and one from five. I was no hero to these people. I was the harbinger of destruction, invasion, a child of Elesh Norn. A child of greed and evil. I brought them death and so many others. Most of it is still fuzzy, but it doesn't take a genius to figure it out with what I do have. How... can I forgive myself? I know somewhere in here, I bore witness to all the carnage of the invasion. That every life I took, I actively took. With Wrenn, Jace, Teferi, and the others, I know its all in here. I just... can't bring myself to do it. I... Why am I like this?
  
  But, I need answers. I have to understand why and how all of this... started. How I became human, a planeswalker. And will I return to what I was? It all starts with one fact.
  
  I am the Invasion Tree, I am Realmbreaker, I am Eight.
  
  I am Caelestis. I am free.
  
  And finally, I am no Phyrexian's slave.
  
  [Plunasa, Scepter Tower] - [Section Theme]
  
  Warm covers of microfiber material. Small nanomachines for heating. A hug of sorts. Nightstand covered in the bubble capsules filled with pills. Mundane to more magical. Feeling well rested seems like a dream. Like a far off goal that I'd never obtain. Sleeping pills, therapy, magic... nothing worked until I tried the obvious. A warmth not from a machine, a warmth with a rhythm, a warmth with a name; I will admit the concept was alien to me. While I refuse to remember my Time on New Phyrexia, it still affects me. How I push away everything trying to help me. How I do things that hurt me. How all of these things feel good, in a sickly way. That's compleation in a haiku isn't it? And so, I read off variables, chemical signs, all that scientific stuff. I tried to science a spiritual problem, and I got no where. Poetry to the Phyrexians and their cause. They were never one. They were nothing. Caught up in vices disguised as virtues.
  
  Now, I lay here with the solution cushioning my head, wrapping arms over my body. A solution that found their way into my mind, seeing the fiction in all its detail. And chose to stay. To stay for me. And with them, I felt love for first time. Never in my imagination, in my fictions, could I truly experience it. Indiscernible, nothing that words could say. To understand love, you have to have to experience it. For another soul to look at you and appreciate you, shield you, never leave you. For another soul to you before themself.
  
  To close your eyes and feel that nothing has changed since the last time. And maybe the most important in my case, for the imaginary to become real. To know he loves me for real. That despite us having different origins, he looks at me and says "brother". That all I could have ever wanted with him, to have him at my side, is true... is real. A euphoria that cracks and shakes the hardening plack of the Phyrexian stupidity the Mother of Machines slipped down my throat. So, laying here in his embrace. In a brother's embrace as his heart beats, his pajamas warm mine, his hands shelter my hair. To sleep, I needed love, security, and company. And no amount of locks, messages, AI companions could ever replace the eye of my Storm. If I have to indulge in fictions, mine take the crown every time.
  
  I felt a tap on my head, "Hey, you awake?" A squeeze and I felt my body lean up as I got dragged. Storm.
  
  "Mmmm, yeah. Don't go." His head leaned down and I could feel his chin on my hair.
  
  "Didn't sleep? I... was sure those pills would work. Why'd you get in here with me?"
  
  My hands squeeze his shoulder blades. Comfortable... comfort. This is what it feels like, "Because pills will never work, somethings can't be solved with that stuff. With material things. Just needed someone to hold. Something to send the void away. Like a part of me is coming back. And I don't understand."
  
  "Don't need to right now. Come on. We got stuff to do. Got to get you ready for the wild adventure ahead of us." Storm slipped out from underme, pulling off the covers. "We got mana and gear to get you. Neither of us expect this to go smoothly."
  
  Hate that he's right.
  
  
• 
  
  1. Explore the iterations of Plunasa for sources of mana. It was only right to do. Cael had a long journey ahead of him, and he needs every source of mana he could get. The Phyrexians wrecked everything and people were angry. Cael could emphasize with that... But, if they ever learned who he was, things could get ugly. Fast. And he needs every ounce of power if he's going to survive.​
  2. Gear up. Plunasa was a plane with a solution to just about anything. A gizmo for this and that. Cael might as well take the machines and items of home. To remind him what he's fighting for, what he needs answers for. Someone has to know something. But, he'll never get there without the right gear.​

 

[Twist]

The Plane of Dunklemarch

Mana Sources
8 Black Swamps

Geography
Because of all the inflated space caused by magic, Dunklemarch is only a couple thousand miles in real space.

Trade Goods
Obsidian
Coal
Bespoke Clothes
Cucurbita
Grave Dust

Our Protagonist

Ella Grimma
Mono Black Caster

Magic
1 Basic Creatures
7 Advanced Creatures
1 Commander Creatures

2 Basic Effect Spells
6 Advanced Effect Spells
1 Elite Effect Spells

4 Basic Enchantments
2 Advanced Enchantments
2 Elite Enchantments

Turn 1

The chateau had seen better days. Once full of joy and a quiet dignity, the grand house was now mired by it's current inhabitants. Steadily it had degenerated, taken on the qualities of it's new family. The woodwork had become twisted and warped, the floors had become layered with muck and the furniture had slowly began to rot from the inside out. All traits it shared with it's owners bar one.

A bulbous head bobbed the corner, a brownish bob framing a sallow face as Anna looked around. Wearing an egg shell dress, with puffy sleeves and layers of skirts the portly woman searched the kitchen. A huge hearth stood at the end of the room, with wood and stone tables spread about, pots and pans of various sizes and uses covering each and everyone. Anna's ample frame jarred loose stray utensils as she rummaged around.

"I wonder what's she cooked,
I'll have a look"

A hefty tongue licked thick lips, as she approached a boiling pot.

"A little taste,
As not too waste"

She grabbed a ladle and closed her eyes in anticipation, her girthy arms knocking a concoction of salt and spice into the near perfect dish as she raised it to her lips. Her eager expression soured almost instantly.

"Ewww! Blergh! Yuck!
What is this muck!"

Her ladle smashed in to the brimming pot, sending it crashing to the floor.

"A God awful taste!
What a wasteeee!!!"

She turned on her heel, and gesticulated wildly, wagging her finger with contempt.

"Another chore! Another chore!
For the maid I deplore!"
"Another chore! Another chore!
For the girl we all ignore!"

Zelda plodded down the stairs, the stairs creaking loudly under her weight. A double of her sister, Zelda could only be told apart by the green, strapless dress she wore and the pigtails of her dirty hair. She stretched her arms upward.

"Another abysmal day..."

She let her arms drop to her sides. Pausing on the stair, a thought came to Zelda. Stooping a little she cast her head around to see if her step-sister was around.

"While she's away,
I'll try to glean,
Whether or not, anything is clean"

Finding the coast clear, she tip toed down the stairs to cacophony of creaks. Turning to her left and around the lounge, then to the right into the kitchen, Zelda spotted the mess left by Anna. Her face twisted in disgust.

"What a stain! What a mess!
I cannot even express!"
"My distresssss!!!"
"At that horrible girl in that ugly black dress!"

Quickly she aimed her ire at the usual scapegoat, her step sister Ella. Wagging her finger in the air, she snarled her contempt.

"Another chore! Another chore!
For my sister the bore!"
Another chore! Another chore!
For the girl we all ignore!"

Zelda stomped away to find Ella. Sitting only steps away on the only good bit of furniture in the house, the matriarch of the family stared out the window. Garbed in ashen grey, her dull dress was accentuated with a generous amount of jewellery. Not one extremity was not covered with some form of shiny bauble. Looking outside at her returning step-daughter Ella, who had been gone on her usual errands, the young beauty dressed in a bashful black tea length dress with long flowing sleeves and frilly details.

"Look at her there
Without a care.
Carrying those baskets,
With food from the market."

Madam Ashpetal scowled down her nose at her stepdaughter as Ella engaged in pleasantries with a seeming washerwoman when she should have been serving the household.

"Leech. Parasite.
Acting all polite."

The matriarch lent back in her chair, her hands clasped together in her lap as she schemed.

"Well I can bide my time,
What was hers is mine.
The benefit of marrying a lord
Whom had little he could not afford."
"So her presence I'll allow."
"For now..."

She remained rigid in her chair, her face a stony mask as she watched her stepdaughter curtsy the washerwoman. Finally Ella approached the house, causing the Lady of the House to turn her head towards the door.

"Another chore, another chore,
For the daughter I abhor"
"Another chore, another chore
For the girl we all ignore"
​

Spoiler: Sing Along Version

Verse 1
Anna: "I wonder what's she cooked,
I'll have a look"
"A little taste,
As not too waste"
"Ewww! Blergh! Yuck!
What is this muck!"
"A God awful taste!
What a wasteeee!!!"

Chorus
"Another chore! Another chore!
For the maid I deplore!"
"Another chore! Another chore!
For the girl we all ignore!"

Verse 2
Zelda: "Another abysmal day..."
"While she's away,
I'll try to glean,
Whether or not, anything is clean"
"What a stain! What a mess!
I cannot even express!"
"My distresssss!!!"
"At that horrible girl in that ugly black dress!"

Chorus
"Another chore! Another chore!
For my sister the bore!"
Another chore! Another chore!
For the girl we all ignore!"

Verse 3
Lady Ashpetal: "Look at her there
Without a care.
Carrying those baskets,
With food from the market."
"Leech. Parasite.
Acting all polite."
"Well I can bide my time,
What was hers is mine.
The benefit of marrying a lord
Whom had little he could not afford."
"So her presence I'll allow."
"For now..."

Chorus
"Another chore, another chore,
For the daughter I abhor"
"Another chore, another chore
For the girl we all ignore"​

​

Turn Actions

Action 1
Search the Market for any interesting Trade Goods and/or Artifacts.

Action 2
"Now, let me see ... There's the large carpet in the main hall. Clean it! And the windows, upstairs and down. Wash them! Oh yes. And the tapestries and the draperies. Do them again! And don't forget the garden. And scrub the terrace, sweep the halls and the stairs, clean the chimneys, and of course there's the mending and the sewing and the laundry. Oh yes, and one more thing..."

Perform the battery of daily chores, invoking a persistent magical effect e.g Enchantment.

 

[Dest]

Delura

The Goblins of Delura, a rowdy bunch by nearly any definition having only been recently tamed by the words and actions of the Flame Bard. A tenuous peace for now, but one that can perhaps be eventually maintained in perpetuity. The tales of the bard have inspired many after all and draw ever more of the denizens of the plane to her side in order to hear her songs first-hand.

The construction of the Coliseum goes incredibly poorly, the first attempt being little more than a stage surrounded by a circle of walls that collapsed almost immediately. Subsequent attempts went just as poorly, the goblins and orcs of the plane used to constructing implements of war rather than anything that would be a truly permanent structure. Eventually, after exhausting themselves with all the poor attempts, not to mention more than one death, they manage to create an extremely ramshackle building that would not look out of place in a warzone. (Lose 2 trade goods due to losses in resources for failed attempts. Generates 1 trade resource every other turn due to poor construction.)

On the other hand, the Goblins, masters of war that they are, have little trouble in combining their ideas with each other to form greater weapons for their use. Throughout the planning phases of this endeavor a dozen and one ideas are proposed, almost as many being immediately discarded and the one who put it forth being laughed out of the room, but a few ideas are agreed to be good and are immediately pushed to be created. Foremost among these is a kind of spear that causes a wound that can not be sealed without magical aid, and even then requires far more mana than almost any other wound would be cost to heal, increasing the effectiveness of the Deluran forces. (Summoned Deluran forces have an increased strength in melee combat.)

During the 'construction' of the Coliseum a large cave is broken into and Allassa can sense a strong source of mana deep within. She has a decision to make, seal the entrance of this cave? Or travel into its depths to confront the source of this mana?

Trektek​

 

[Cosmo]

Bakuyama
Turn 1

Sumairu

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

A great mountain range dominated the terrain and from its base spreading out in all directions was seemingly endless swamps and mires. Upon the mountainside stood a great fortress. Multiple layers of thick walls built upon one another to form a natural hill to protect it from the frequent earthquakes and volcanic eruptions that happened all too often in Bakuyama. Within the hall, a grand banquet was going, it had been going for years. Powerful oni retainers in heavy armor knelt before their small tables, their plates and cups constantly being filled with food and saki. Pot-belled bakemono ran about the room, piles and piles of food scraps around them as they feasted, shoveling handfuls of dirty rice in their mouth as bits of spilled out of the sides of their mouth to sprinkle down over their body. More then a few had a fair amount of grains of rice resting over their bare stomachs.. The hall was a buzz of never ending conversation, about the land, about the food, about the fine sake, about the last raid, about anything and everything. When one had eternity, they had time to spare.

At the head of the banquet sat a oni in red and gold robes. Their fiery hair was tied up in a bun, horns and immense pointed ears flanked his face.. His very human face, if someone had distorted it. The oni looked like a smiling man if someone had sunk hooks into the corner of their mouth and pulled until the flesh tore. The corner of his never ending smile seems to almost touch his ears and revealed rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth. His eyes were black and squinted from the sheer pull of his cheeks. His skin was a ghostly pale with red marks sprinkled over his face.. One of the oni retainers lifted a great club and brought it smashing down into the mat floor, a heavy crack splitting the ear as the noise of the banquet silenced at once.

"My friends, thank you for attending my celebration," the red haired oni said, his voice was smooth like velvet despite his lips not actually moving, somehow speaking through his garish grin, "We have such wonderful news."

The oni waited a few moments as the chorus of 'What is it!?' 'Tell us?' erupted from the Bakemono died down.

"The Omenpaths have opened," the oni said, letting his words hang in the air...

The silence echoed for a few seconds until a pot-bellied bakemono leaned forward with a grunt, "The what?"

"The omenpaths," the smiling oni repeated.

"... The what?"

The beady black eyes of the red oni stared at the bakemono for a solid minute before it started to speakly slowly, "It is a door, to many lands."

".... What lands?"

"All of them."

"But which ones?"

The red oni's smile never left, but there was a tension in the air.. That was broken by a human servant tripping over food scraps, the porcelain bottle of sake tumbling out of her hands to shattered on the ground.

"I'm so s-sorry, master," the woman said as she scrambled back to her feet, her hands balling into her waist as she tried to make herself smaller as if to disappear into the ground before anything happened to her.

"It is fine, my dear, please, come here," the red oni said as he beckoned her closer.

The woman hesitated, "I have much to do, master."

"And I am telling you to come," the Oni repeated, its beady black eyes boring into the woman.

"Y-yes, master," she murmured as she moved closer and knelt next to him.

"Do you know of the Omenpath?" the red oni asked as if intending to use her as a prop.

"N-No, my lord," she answered

"Think of it as a great door that you can use to go anywhere. New worlds, with new people, with new... prey," the smiling oni said letting the word hang.

"T-That sounds wonderous," she said, willing to say anything to make this end as quickly as possible.

"Isn't it just?" the smiling oni said as it turned its beady black eyes around the room, "Think of all the pillaging and raiding, lands never seen before."

The oni around the room gave small nods as the small bakemono began to rise to their feet, "Raid and pillage! Loot and steal! Yum yums for our tum tums!"

"Yes! Loot beyond imagining, ours for the taking," the smiling oni said, its small eyes almost seeming to dance in its pulled face, "Enough to build an appetite, isn't it?"

The bakemono hopped foot to foot, "Eat! Eat! Eat!"

"I-I can get you something, master," the woman said hoping to use this as an excuse to slip away.

"Oh, I'd love something special. I'll need the energy, what do you suggest?" the oni asked

"Some meat, master? T-There is some fine rabbit stew.."

"Oh, no, my dear, I think I want something fresh."

".. Please," the woman begged, her voice breaking.

"Thank you for the meal, my dear," the red oni said as his mouth opened rider, like a great serpent, rows upon rows of teeth lining his mouth as he brought it over her shoulder and sank it into her warm flesh.

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

Ranks upon ranks of disciplined Oni in heavy armor marched, their great blades and clubs leaned against their armor shoulders as they made their way to the known gateway of the Omenpath.. To a multiverse ripe for the taking, for the plundering. Around their heals were gaggles upon gaggles of small pot-bellied bakemono that would serve as entertainment, meatshields and fodder for the upcoming raids. Human attendants, servants and brigands marched at the far rear doing their best to stay as far from their Oni betters as they could for when the food came short, they would be on the menu.

As the portal split the sky, as planes beyond counting, beyond imagination opened, the bakemono broke out into song, their gleeful cackles infectious as it carried in the wind..​

"Here we go!
Here we go!
Here we go, across the cosmos!

Here we go!
Here we go!
Here we go, don't know where we're goin' till we're there!

They're all shakin' in fear,
Because we're the Oni.
When we raid, none can stop us,
Because we're the Oni.

Here we go!
Here we go!
Here we go, across the cosmos!

Here we go!
Here we go!
Here we go, don't know where we're goin' till we're there!

Take their shinnies, take their grub,
Because we're the Oni.
Take their sons, take their daughters,
Because we're the Oni.

Here we go!
Here we go!
Here we go, across the cosmos!

Here we go!
Here we go!
Here we go, don't know where we're goin' till we're there!"

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


Actions
1. Enter the Omenpaths, find the first plane they come across and raid it. Take their food, take their shinny loot, take their people, take their mana.. If its not nailed down, take it. Leave fire, death and devastation behind and try to get out before they have time to truly answer them in force. [Break shit, take shit, get out before their shit gets pushed in]

2. Attempt a gathering of the spellcasters [Uba, Nushi, etc] and attempt to create new enchantments that would aid the bakemono in their glorious raids.​

 

[Dest]

Vizaria

The Factory city belched the essence of life from its chimneys as more and more lives were sacrificed to it, the city slowly expanding with every one that was given to it. Marduke's own strength seemed to slowly increase as well, never much at a time, never anything that would truly be noticed, but slowly his power had grown beyond what it had been when he created the SoulForge. Who knew where it would grow with even more time and souls offered?

The search of Vizaria goes well, and Marduke is able to find a trio of swamps that replenish their natural mana quick enough to be useful. (Gain three sources of Black mana) (Rolled a 1 on d5, tripled due to 14 on d20)

The other factory cities are closed off and reluctant to speak to the Soulforger, yet a few are open to speaking to him for now.

Nylxo the Shepard, Leader of Yock. A middling Factory City focused on the creation of artificial animals.

Olee of the Field, Leader of Noren. A small Factory City which focuses on producing weaponry.

Servin the Thrice-Reborn, Leader of Jerok. A middling Factory City which has a large focus on Trade Goods of varying kinds.

The three are willing to meet either together or as individuals, but both kinds of meetings could have consequences in the future.

Crocodile​

 

[Dest]

Alaxius

Alaxius has begun its rebirth, bringing with it a new sense of hope and joy as its people look to their future for what may come. This hope is brought forth by the Uniter, and it is this hope which inspires more and more of the Plane's denizens to flock to his side. Will Noah continue to inspire this return to the old strength of the grand cities in a new and more united form? Or will this simply become another lead-up to the destruction that had come before? Only time will tell.

The search for new cradles of Mana brought Noah to the very edges of Alaxius where few dread to tread, and yet this risk has paid off. A matched set of swamps and plains that were yet unclaimed were found, offering to him a larger than expected increase of strength. (Gain two sources of Black Mana and Two Sources of white mana) (Rolled a 4 on d5, static due to 2 on d20)

Noah's scouts, as well as his personal scouting, have left him with several leads to cities where he may still find some of the objects that he is hoping for.

Hilwood, a city said to have been an agricultural center.

Tirie, a city which held claim to some of the most impressive enchanters within Alaxius.

Dila, a city second to almost none when the Plane boasted its full strength.

He will only be able to search one of these in a timely manner, so the choice of which he goes to is an important one to make.

ThatWhichShouldBe
​

 

[Dest]

Albion

The insects of Albion have been weakened, their home destroyed due to the madness of an interplanar threat, and yet they are still strong. Arachnimedes has proven himself a strong leader to the swarm at a time of both great strife and yet a grand opportunity for it to grow in both strength and wealth. Whichever path is taken, the future of Albion is truly in the hands of its new master.

The Defenses go up outstandingly, the use of resources that have been stored as well as those that were scavenged off the dead Phyrexians have left them in a state stronger than near anything that has previously been built on the Plane. (Defenses around the portal provide a massive boost in defensive capability should it be used for an invasion.)

The regrowth goes poorly, the oil and machinery that the Phyrexians had been made of leaving a mass area of dead land that nothing can yet grow on. (Nat 1, lose 1 trade resource to the attempt)

As the squad of insects go through the portal they can feel themselves be tossed around roughly, an unknown amount of time passing as they are surrounded by nothing but a blue light. Finally, they are ejected roughly onto the ground and can feel the familiar comfort of grass. As they look up they first see that they are in a sparse forest that is hemmed in on all sides by some kind of stone structure, the second thing they see? A group of people that looked not unlike the Phyrexians that had invaded them, though these appear to be something more similar to flesh rather than metal, pointing weapons at them. The people of Albion had found a new Plane, one called Kamigawa.


CaptainSully​