Selee-01
All according to my Scenario
Zyr, being the size of Yimor, found this useful.
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Fantasy The Worst Pantheon: Live and Reloaded (IC Thread) (OPEN)
- Thread starter Space Buddha
- Start date
Celestial Speck
I'm not a bad guy, I swear!
...
Ocaeril simply watched this playoff, watching as Zyr literally just fell down and ate the fruit, and started to stink. Stink really, really bad. Water ran down his eyes, as somewhere in the ocean, a tornado filled with water started to spin and spin. Gently putting down the head of the basket so Inqui didn't need to breathe this in, and putting the Dragon Slayer spear inside of his pocket, Ocaeril looked at his fruit.
"..."
...
"Ah, fuck it. I'll deal with the aftermath next cycle."
Chomp
Kingly K Duel
Guy with many thoughts and Ideas
Ocearil would then gain the effects of the Gum-Gum fruit, becoming a rubber man but now unable to swim!
Celestial Speck
I'm not a bad guy, I swear!
...!
"Woah!" As Ocaeril felt his limbs becoming as soft as putty. It was like...His fake 'bones' fell off his body, and at the same time, his skin could become even harder than those! He felt faster, but nimble, more agile- but he felt like his connection the ocean weakening. Which, honestly, made him a bit sad. The fact that he was away from his mother's natural habitat made him pout, but it was whatever. This was...Honestly cool! He'd lose his mind if he got this as a kid!
...And frankly speaking, he still is.
"Thanks, Cards!" Ocaeril said out loud to the sky, to Cardicarious to hear, before he grinned, and entered his Chakra Cloak mode, as his Truth Seeker Balls appeared behind him, the markings were new- definitely an effect of the fruit. He could also see an infinity symbol on both his ears, showing that it was the Dragon Slayer spear.
"Okay...C'mon, Inqui! I'm taking ya for a ride!"
Air suddenly filled up inside his legs, which was actually air infused with Chakra, as Ocaeril flew up to the skies, like a balloon!
"BEST! CYCLE!"
Selee-01
All according to my Scenario
Zyr’abaoth exhaled, igniting the methane into a fiery blast.
He eyed another fruit, contemplating the risk.
He eyed another fruit, contemplating the risk.
Space Buddha
The Enlightened One
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GM UPDATE:
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BlackCat-055
Meanwhile, at the darkest depths of the western sea, the Leviathan-mother stirred, the newest of her progeny birthed into existence. This being, however, was not the sea-mother that most would think of. This was something else. Were you to ask her name, she would answer it to be Aqua, the Dark Leviathan and mate to The Decimation. In reality, her name was Meryl, though none knew this. This hulking monstrosity currently laid spread-eagle at the bottom of some deep ocean trench, nursing a swarm of lesser sea-beasts, most of which were themselves little but mindless water-serpents who could do little more than attack small boats. One, however, had grown slightly bigger than the others, and had a modicum of intelligence on its own, hence why Meryl addressed the creature.
"MY CHILD, I WOULD ASK SOMETHING OF YOU."
"What is it, mother?"
"YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE OF MY BROOD WITH INTELLIGENCE BEYOND JUST THE BASE INSTINCT REQUIRED TO CHEW ON MY UDDERS AND KILL THE SCUM THAT INFESTS THIS WORLD. YOU HAVE A SISTER, IN FACT."
"Really, how might I meet her?"
"YOU KNOW THOSE FLIMSY WOODEN BOXES THAT FLOAT UP THERE?"
Meryl gestured up with an immense tentacle.
"Indeed, boats I think they are called."
"YOUR SISTER OWNS THOSE. GO BREAK THOSE UNTIL SHE SHOWS UP. WHEN SHE DOES, MAKE HER COME VISIT ME."
Meryl emitted a low, gutteral hiss.
"SHE. NEVER. VISITS."
"Aren't I not supposed to break someone else's toys?"
Meryl growled and swiped at the sea serpent with another tendril, batting him into a nearby rock.
"YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO DISOBEY YOUR MOTHER YOU FILTHY PIECE OF DOLPHIN CRAP. NOW GET UP THERE AND KILL SHIT FOR MOMMY."
The sea serpent snarled, approximating a sigh.
"Yes, mother."
And with that, the creature swam off, and began to attack the merchant vessels of Camelot.
GM UPDATE:
___________________________________________________________________
BlackCat-055
Meanwhile, at the darkest depths of the western sea, the Leviathan-mother stirred, the newest of her progeny birthed into existence. This being, however, was not the sea-mother that most would think of. This was something else. Were you to ask her name, she would answer it to be Aqua, the Dark Leviathan and mate to The Decimation. In reality, her name was Meryl, though none knew this. This hulking monstrosity currently laid spread-eagle at the bottom of some deep ocean trench, nursing a swarm of lesser sea-beasts, most of which were themselves little but mindless water-serpents who could do little more than attack small boats. One, however, had grown slightly bigger than the others, and had a modicum of intelligence on its own, hence why Meryl addressed the creature.
"MY CHILD, I WOULD ASK SOMETHING OF YOU."
"What is it, mother?"
"YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE OF MY BROOD WITH INTELLIGENCE BEYOND JUST THE BASE INSTINCT REQUIRED TO CHEW ON MY UDDERS AND KILL THE SCUM THAT INFESTS THIS WORLD. YOU HAVE A SISTER, IN FACT."
"Really, how might I meet her?"
"YOU KNOW THOSE FLIMSY WOODEN BOXES THAT FLOAT UP THERE?"
Meryl gestured up with an immense tentacle.
"Indeed, boats I think they are called."
"YOUR SISTER OWNS THOSE. GO BREAK THOSE UNTIL SHE SHOWS UP. WHEN SHE DOES, MAKE HER COME VISIT ME."
Meryl emitted a low, gutteral hiss.
"SHE. NEVER. VISITS."
"Aren't I not supposed to break someone else's toys?"
Meryl growled and swiped at the sea serpent with another tendril, batting him into a nearby rock.
"YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO DISOBEY YOUR MOTHER YOU FILTHY PIECE OF DOLPHIN CRAP. NOW GET UP THERE AND KILL SHIT FOR MOMMY."
The sea serpent snarled, approximating a sigh.
"Yes, mother."
And with that, the creature swam off, and began to attack the merchant vessels of Camelot.
KolastoRPN
Member
Helsa Action #2
After sending her cultists on their way and the Tailed Demons back to the Exodite lands to wreak havoc on the elves once more, Helsa smiled before extending her power outward, towards Blackbellow's lair. She was honestly impressed at the sheer amount of dangerous monsters and traps that he had produced since she last saw him.
She soon found Blackbellow. Now a floating skull with a flaming aura around it, blood red rubies in his eyesockets (and still wearing the hat he used to wear), she vanished from the island in a flash of black smog.
"Ah, Goddess of Corruption. What is it you need this time-"
"Borrowing one of your monsters!" Helsa cheerfully said, before vanishing in a puff of smoke. Blackbellow would later find that one of his stronger monsters (and one of the few that had mouths and was capable of eating) had vanished.
"...It's going to take forever to replace that one." Blackbellow mused.
-Elsewhere-
A hand reached out of a cloud of smog and grabbed a odd, swirly-patterned fruit from somewhere.
-Elsewhere Again-
The monster would reappear in the middle of Exodite lands, and only had a moment to contemplate what the heck was going on (as well as a monster could) before tons of corruptive energy was shoved into it's body, causing it to become even more monstrous and powerful. And sadistic.
And then it got a random fruit shoved down it's gullet. An extremely foul tasting one.
Said monster would later go on a rampage with it's new powers, tormenting everyone in sight.
Kingly K Duel
(yes, Helsa did just take a devil fruit to feed it to a supercharged Tomb of Horrors monster just to wreak more havoc on the Exodites)
After sending her cultists on their way and the Tailed Demons back to the Exodite lands to wreak havoc on the elves once more, Helsa smiled before extending her power outward, towards Blackbellow's lair. She was honestly impressed at the sheer amount of dangerous monsters and traps that he had produced since she last saw him.
She soon found Blackbellow. Now a floating skull with a flaming aura around it, blood red rubies in his eyesockets (and still wearing the hat he used to wear), she vanished from the island in a flash of black smog.
"Ah, Goddess of Corruption. What is it you need this time-"
"Borrowing one of your monsters!" Helsa cheerfully said, before vanishing in a puff of smoke. Blackbellow would later find that one of his stronger monsters (and one of the few that had mouths and was capable of eating) had vanished.
"...It's going to take forever to replace that one." Blackbellow mused.
-Elsewhere-
A hand reached out of a cloud of smog and grabbed a odd, swirly-patterned fruit from somewhere.
-Elsewhere Again-
The monster would reappear in the middle of Exodite lands, and only had a moment to contemplate what the heck was going on (as well as a monster could) before tons of corruptive energy was shoved into it's body, causing it to become even more monstrous and powerful. And sadistic.
And then it got a random fruit shoved down it's gullet. An extremely foul tasting one.
Said monster would later go on a rampage with it's new powers, tormenting everyone in sight.
Kingly K Duel
(yes, Helsa did just take a devil fruit to feed it to a supercharged Tomb of Horrors monster just to wreak more havoc on the Exodites)
Kingly K Duel
Guy with many thoughts and Ideas
Helsas monster...got the Sew-Sew fruit. Now it could stitch up anything!
(Did a random roll, this is what the result was)
(Did a random roll, this is what the result was)
Celestial Speck
I'm not a bad guy, I swear!
In his flying form that had gained speed over time thanks to the Gum-Gum Fruit, Ocaeril made his way towards Camelot, but as soon as he approached the gates of the place, he soon stopped himself, floating mid-air, and letting go of his Chakra Cloak form. He didn't want to scare the locals, after all. And besides, he's looking a bit too much with this current appearance. Heck, he may feel more agile thanks to the fruit, but his clothes are too ridiculous as is!
Clapping his hands, Ocaeril returned to his normal form. White skin, horns, black eyes, and a formal outfit with a cloak. He looked like a demon, but anyone that felt his presence would know it was him- or at least he hoped so. He still carried the basket with Inqui inside of it and had that little earring on where the Dragon Slayer hid, but overall, his aura felt like him. He also cast an invisibility Jutsu over himself to cloak his presence and everything else about him- including Inqui and her basket, just to be safe.
BlackCat-055
He then sent a message to Tanya. It felt more like someone sending an MSM to someone, though.
Standing outside of Camelot. I'm coming in to talk about Zyr. Inqui is with me, on the basket.
He then sloooowly made his way inside where he usually met Tanya.
Clapping his hands, Ocaeril returned to his normal form. White skin, horns, black eyes, and a formal outfit with a cloak. He looked like a demon, but anyone that felt his presence would know it was him- or at least he hoped so. He still carried the basket with Inqui inside of it and had that little earring on where the Dragon Slayer hid, but overall, his aura felt like him. He also cast an invisibility Jutsu over himself to cloak his presence and everything else about him- including Inqui and her basket, just to be safe.
BlackCat-055
He then sent a message to Tanya. It felt more like someone sending an MSM to someone, though.
Standing outside of Camelot. I'm coming in to talk about Zyr. Inqui is with me, on the basket.
He then sloooowly made his way inside where he usually met Tanya.
Scrump_Diddle
𝔐𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔠 ℑ𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔡𝔲𝔞𝔩 (((((((((((((
Rhubarion - Action_1.
"Ergh, ehg... OONGA BARGH!"
"Hey, hey! Settle down you insolent stone-munchers. I'm not taking that kinda tone from a simpleton."
Rhubarion had been trying as of recent to teach his followers some basic commands he had set within his cult. This would immediately prove to be a mentally and emotionally strenuous task considering his anarcho-primitivist disciples were stripped of their human evolutionary standards and reverted back to a crude, Cro-Magnon-like state. After several hours of reciting various commandments & fundamental conspiracy theories which allude to Transmundanism, the cultists possessed a somewhat firm concept of what to do within the clique.
*Green text represents the translated grunts & drawls of the cultists*
"So uh, you're telling us that mountains are giant trees, nothing outside our vision exists, and that life is an unproven theory?
"NO! All mountains are holographic projections meant to trick you into thinking Ocearil isn't a dinner platter. Speaking of which, where the hell is the map of Ocaeril I ordered one of you lamebrains to cartograph. Remember, I demanded the TRUE proportions. "
A tattered, shaking cultist quickly approaches Rhubarion.
"Here ya go, boss. Hopefully, it's to your liking."
The follower hands him an intensely scratched dinner platter with the name "OCAERIL" crudely painted on with mule blood. Rhubarion stares at it longingly, and with great focus.
"Is there, uh, something wrong boss?"
Rhubarion begins to shake his head, gradually increasing his pace.
"Its...it's...perfect."
He sheds several tears, all of which land upon the dinner platter and fade the writing on its rough metal surface.
"No... NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! OH, GODS!"
Rhubarion flails on the floor in a fit of unbridled petulance, all simply because of the fact that his tears slightly warped the inked text on the platter.
"Boss calm down, please. I don't want to see you like this."
"Gods I hate myself! How could my lousy tears defile such a flawless creation! FUCK! I don't want to see a single one your faces for a little while... leave!
He invokes a coruscate on the patchy ground, which abruptly explodes; launching all of the an-prims to the outer reaches of Ocaeril, except for a few. Rubarion sits down on the grass and possesses a stoic look.
"B-b-boss. Wha-what about uh-us."
Rhubarion turns and around and immediately notices three of his cultists standing there, fear-ridden and dumbstruck.
"You three will be my companions for now."
"We don't even have names!"
"*Sighs* Fine. You, Gnob. You, Crud... and you, Kadnagarburrovahtingtang.
Since Rhubarion had flung the rest of the cultists all throughout Ocaeril, he summoned a conspiracy-based communication method and declared that they would spread the word of Transundanism. They would spread the word to whoever and wherever.
.__________Conversation_Reference_________.
Gnob = Yellow Text
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Crud = Orange Text
-
Kadnagarburrovahtingtang = Magenta Text
"Ergh, ehg... OONGA BARGH!"
"Hey, hey! Settle down you insolent stone-munchers. I'm not taking that kinda tone from a simpleton."
Rhubarion had been trying as of recent to teach his followers some basic commands he had set within his cult. This would immediately prove to be a mentally and emotionally strenuous task considering his anarcho-primitivist disciples were stripped of their human evolutionary standards and reverted back to a crude, Cro-Magnon-like state. After several hours of reciting various commandments & fundamental conspiracy theories which allude to Transmundanism, the cultists possessed a somewhat firm concept of what to do within the clique.
*Green text represents the translated grunts & drawls of the cultists*
"So uh, you're telling us that mountains are giant trees, nothing outside our vision exists, and that life is an unproven theory?
"NO! All mountains are holographic projections meant to trick you into thinking Ocearil isn't a dinner platter. Speaking of which, where the hell is the map of Ocaeril I ordered one of you lamebrains to cartograph. Remember, I demanded the TRUE proportions. "
A tattered, shaking cultist quickly approaches Rhubarion.
"Here ya go, boss. Hopefully, it's to your liking."
The follower hands him an intensely scratched dinner platter with the name "OCAERIL" crudely painted on with mule blood. Rhubarion stares at it longingly, and with great focus.
"Is there, uh, something wrong boss?"
Rhubarion begins to shake his head, gradually increasing his pace.
"Its...it's...perfect."
He sheds several tears, all of which land upon the dinner platter and fade the writing on its rough metal surface.
"No... NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! OH, GODS!"
Rhubarion flails on the floor in a fit of unbridled petulance, all simply because of the fact that his tears slightly warped the inked text on the platter.
"Boss calm down, please. I don't want to see you like this."
"Gods I hate myself! How could my lousy tears defile such a flawless creation! FUCK! I don't want to see a single one your faces for a little while... leave!
He invokes a coruscate on the patchy ground, which abruptly explodes; launching all of the an-prims to the outer reaches of Ocaeril, except for a few. Rubarion sits down on the grass and possesses a stoic look.
"B-b-boss. Wha-what about uh-us."
Rhubarion turns and around and immediately notices three of his cultists standing there, fear-ridden and dumbstruck.
"You three will be my companions for now."
"We don't even have names!"
"*Sighs* Fine. You, Gnob. You, Crud... and you, Kadnagarburrovahtingtang.
Since Rhubarion had flung the rest of the cultists all throughout Ocaeril, he summoned a conspiracy-based communication method and declared that they would spread the word of Transundanism. They would spread the word to whoever and wherever.
.__________Conversation_Reference_________.
Gnob = Yellow Text
-
Crud = Orange Text
-
Kadnagarburrovahtingtang = Magenta Text
Last edited:
Churl
Member
Ickol Action 1
Ickol’s arrival into the Vril Empire, known to its citizens as the First Light, was at first unnoticed. The guards first mobilized at seeing what was clearly a non-Vril approaching the border fortress, but she simply smiled and explained she was coming to sell her wares. She was so demure the guards let her past and blushed as she do sincerely thanked them and continued onwards. It wasn’t until the next day when they suddenly realized a.) she hadn’t carried anything on her and b.) no merchants ever just stroll through the Underdark that the guards could tell something was afoot. But this was just one incident. Ickol’s journey towards the First Light’s capital was filled with similar stories. Most ignored her, not even registering her off appearance even as she stopped and asked for directions. And whenever anyone did ask for her purpose in traveling, it was always something different, something that was obviously a lie but they didn’t realize it until long after she’d left, if they did at all. They were small stories, but soon some began to travel, and reached the ear of the First Light’s capital. And those in the chambers of the Amonjak, blessed ruler of the people, knew their goddess was coming. For months, they prepared for her arrival, but she was certainly taking her sweet time exploring the empire and taking in the Vrilian culture.
As she stayed in a family home (‘visiting her mother in the capital, who happened to be an aid to the Amonjak’ was her excuse this time) Ickol decided to become acquainted with one of the oddest things about the Vril, and that was their understanding of romance.
Eventually the goddess did arrive at the Amonjak’s palace, and was greeted by him, a crooked old thing with a bad heart, and his five candidates for the throne. All looked at her with apprehension. After all, the second Amonjak was handpicked by her, and was not even one of the potential heirs. But she just smiled. This lot seemed interesting, at any rate.
The Scholar, Yenlin, was the first candidate. Born with extremely weak psionic abilities he had instead turned to knowledge, investigating the histories both real and ‘real’ of the Vril and the Underdark. Currently the only Vril to know magic, although with an extremely rudimentary understanding he learned only by discovering a worn dark elf spell-book in some ruins. The most likely to expand the empire deeper into the Underdark and grow power.
The Soldier, Nythril, said to have been born without emotion or ambition. He had chosen the unglamorous life of a soldier for unknown reasons, and was really only a candidate due to his blood. He is often regarded as unsettling by others, but also without vice. It is also said he never changed expression even in battle, and the monsters in the Underdark would flee any encounter with him. The most likely to reach out to other powers in the Underdark, despite the rest of his races’ distrust of anything non-Vril and centuries of conflict.
The Bastard, Vulimer. Although the legitimate daughter of the current Amonjak, Vulimer’s aggressive personality and thug-like behavior has given her her nickname since she was young. An egoist ready to throw down with anyone that challenges her, Vuilmer is liked by few but reluctantly admired for her willpower and strength. It is said she has only ever lost a fight to her brother Nythril, and only when she grew disturbed how he never showed any signs of pain even as his body was broken. The most likely to advance the empire outwards to claim the land between the empire and the exit out of the Underdark and exterminate anything in her way.
The Silent, Werrin. Said to have been born with his brother’s missing psionic abilities, Werrin is almost completely crippled by his uncontrolled abilities which leave him weak and in pain. He whispers everything, as it is known his abilities enhance his natural howl into a dangerous blast. Kept isolated for most of his childhood, Werrin has been cared for by, of all things, his dark elf slave Shrin, one of the last still in the Underdark. Although loved for his kind nature, there are unsavory rumors that Shrin might be his Agap or Werd. The most likely to keep the empire isolated and on the defensive.
The Trickster, Anxen. The only candidate not related to the Amonjak and a folk hero of sorts, Anxen is a distant descendant of the original Amonjak’s line, although had nothing to her name. In the course of a few years, she had managed to use tricks and wits to get herself in the position she’s in now. Regarded as a true example of the Vril spirit, even after building her staircase to fame on backstabs she has few enemies with her silver tongue always managing to strike the right deal to smooth things over. The most likely to reach out to the surface.
Ickol did not have a horse in this race this time. Instead she made a declaration. There was a large troglodyte camp in a hidden ruined city. The leader of the troglodytes has discovered a key which, unknown to him, was to the greatest treasure in several hundred miles, an armory of the long-extinct Duergar. The candidate to successfully claim the key by theft, violence, trade, or peace is the Amonjak (although killing the competition isn’t allowed) and gets to claim the treasure for the empire to use as they see fit.
Ickol’s arrival into the Vril Empire, known to its citizens as the First Light, was at first unnoticed. The guards first mobilized at seeing what was clearly a non-Vril approaching the border fortress, but she simply smiled and explained she was coming to sell her wares. She was so demure the guards let her past and blushed as she do sincerely thanked them and continued onwards. It wasn’t until the next day when they suddenly realized a.) she hadn’t carried anything on her and b.) no merchants ever just stroll through the Underdark that the guards could tell something was afoot. But this was just one incident. Ickol’s journey towards the First Light’s capital was filled with similar stories. Most ignored her, not even registering her off appearance even as she stopped and asked for directions. And whenever anyone did ask for her purpose in traveling, it was always something different, something that was obviously a lie but they didn’t realize it until long after she’d left, if they did at all. They were small stories, but soon some began to travel, and reached the ear of the First Light’s capital. And those in the chambers of the Amonjak, blessed ruler of the people, knew their goddess was coming. For months, they prepared for her arrival, but she was certainly taking her sweet time exploring the empire and taking in the Vrilian culture.
As she stayed in a family home (‘visiting her mother in the capital, who happened to be an aid to the Amonjak’ was her excuse this time) Ickol decided to become acquainted with one of the oddest things about the Vril, and that was their understanding of romance.
The Vril has always had different social dynamics than other species, but it was under the guidance of the Amonjak and the creation of the First Light that their society gradually defined and added to this system of attachments. It is perhaps incorrect refer to the system of Vril romance as strictly that, indeed, more than half of the relationships are better described as platonic attachments, but for the Vril any relationship they bother partaking in is one to revere. The system of Vril relationships is known as the Khatgi, and is named for the strategy game of the same name. It involves a series of movements of relationships represented as the pieces from Khatgi, and a human from the overworld might replace all of the terminology with that of chess. This is a gross appropriation of Vril culture, yet also completely accurate as Khatgi is in fact, just a slightly different form of chess ‘rediscovered and gifted to its creators’ by Ickol who really only understood about half the rules anyway. Thus, in describing Vril relationships, the components shall be represented by chess pieces rather than their native khatgi soldiers.
Vril relationships are, to put it bluntly, based around power dynamics. Thus, the comparison to chess, as each partner represents the other side of the board. There is little confusion in a Vril relationship to its participants, they simply have to see the power dynamic between themselves and their partner to identify the issue. A partner engages in an action known as a ply that can be seen as a gesture of the relationship. It can have different meanings depending on the events in the relationship. A partner may give a present, and in doing so engage in plying. This gift can be read as an inquiry of affection seeking an affirmation, a pleasant surprise, a wish for forgiveness for some slight, etc. Depending on the context the power is in one party or the other, but regardless the giver is in half-ply and awaiting a response. If the giver has the power, the partner reciprocated to restore equilibrium, but it is possible in rocky relationships the giver engages in half-ply to forfeit their power to the receiver, and should they reject the gift or not respond in kind, the ply is not completed and the feelings are known.
It is incorrect to call the Vril a polyamorous race. They consider each relationship wholly separate from others, and indeed the idea that an individual has all 16 relationships is often a bawdy joke implying one’s ‘loose nature’, and one who is too open is regarded as en prise, and undesirable as it is felt they do not truly respect the commitment each relationship deserves.
The first eight relationships are the platonic Hytwiago relationships, represented by what the Empire above would call the Pawn.
Xeniago: The romance of hospitality. Several cultures above also practiced the rite of sacred hospitality, but few with such fervor as the Vril. To be welcomed as a guest is to become joined, ‘married’, into the house. If there is room, the master of the house agrees to accept those that come seeking aid. To ask for lodgings is to show a great trust, and this trust is held true. A master does not need to be an especially good host if they dislike the guest, but they do not deny them nor turn them out into the streets. In return, the guest must not abuse this hospitality, and must abide by the hosts wishes and express their gratitude. One infamous Vril play sparked debate for its controversial ending, where the villain is given to the authorities despite seeking hospitality.
Serviago: The romance of teaching. A master and an apprentice are in Serviago, as is a scholar and student. To have a personal teacher is to have a new parent, one who shall give a different perspective on the world, or teach different specialized skills. One who has taught in Serviago does not teach another. Even when the student has learned the necessary skills to be independent, they retain their ties with the teacher. In return, the teacher embarks on self-discovery through their tutelage. Some students despise their tutors and become their rivals after reaching independence, but always there is a lifelong bond, positive or negative. One’s tutor is likely to show up at important ceremonies.
Sangriago: The romance of the hunt. Tracing back to the tribal days of the Vril, comparable to blood brothers. To be in this relationship is to have a partner entrusted with your life, and who is as your right hand on the hunt. This relationship is mostly found in those that brave outside the settlements for hunting, exploring, or exterminating threats. Soldiers will often find their Sangri after several battles, and their enemies will often be unnerved by the supernatural coordination between two partners in this space. It is noted that, for whatever reason, as a Sangriago grows, the partners will begin to share slight physical characteristics with the other they lacked before, such as marks that resemble their partner’s scars, or gaining sharper claws or shriller howls than they had before.
Storgiago: The romance of family. No, not like that. Vril families tend to be... complicated. Surprisingly, there aren’t as many blood feuds between rival families as one might think, but that is often due to infighting in one’s own home. Vril families are close, if not emotionally, than in proximity. It is not uncommon for wealthy Vril to house their entire extended family in their manor, despite personal feelings. The Vril believe in being not loyal or loving to their family, but in being present. If a family member invokes the blood between them and you, it is saying they have no where else to turn and beg for your service. An overworld observer may note that while the Vril don’t have the most healthy familial relationships, they are shockingly stable and selfless ones.
Philliago: The romance of mending. One of the most common forms of romance a Vril is likely to experience, to have a Phill is to have a warden, of a sort. A Phill is, to put it one way, a fixer in need of their own tune up. Two Vril in a Philliago compliment the other’s negative traits and cover for their partner’s weakness and in turn the same is done for them. For example, one Vril is affable but prone to resorting to manipulation, the other is aggressive and earnest. In a Philliago, the former would try more straightforward methods, and the latter would become more sociable.
Agapiago: The romance of companionship. Known as the strongest of the Hytwiagos, to love an Agap is to love selflessly, completely, and platonically. This relationship do not ask for change nor sacrifice, yet often both come all the same. The death of an Agap is oftentimes enough to cause the survivor to die from grief shortly after.
Werdiago: The romance of the protector. A Vril imprints on another out of concern. It is marked by an obsessive need to care for and ensure the safety of the other, and unlike most forms of Vril romance, this is usually not a mutual expression given the context. The imprinted, however, does tend to express gratitude for the care they receive and even after the time of danger is past, a Werd cares for their imprinted. It is known this relationship can pop up even in other forms of relationships.
Fitziago: The romance of strife. Known to those above as a rivalry, but the Vril give it much more consideration. To be considered worthy of being a Fitz is to be seen as an equal with potential in one’s calling. Although occasionally antagonistic, it doesn’t have to be, it simply revolves around mutual competition in a field and a begrudging respect and admiration for the other. To have a Fitz is to continuously push oneself to betterment to best them.
The two ‘romances’ of the Rook are the Tyrtpsi, the romances of the mind. Both tend to be platonic, but it has been known that occasionally a Banpsi relationship has blossomed into something more, although as expected almost always not the most stable relationship.
Rwurpsi: When a young Vril begins to develop their psionic powers, it is known that they have a sort of personal frequency which stabilizes as they gain more mastery. Almost every Vril will have their frequency latched onto by another budding Vril that is in proximity but who hasn’t had contact with the partner. This is because the ‘frequencies’ will push around those that are developing near them, but will latch onto a more distant one it registers as passive. Basically this means most Vril have a psychic soulmate stranger somewhere in the same settlement. It is estimated that if 8/10 Vril form this connection, only 6/10 will actually discover who this partner is. Very rarely do they reach out to their Rwur, however. Instead, it is customary to maintain a distance between yourself and your partner in this relationship, but still keep close tabs on the other and send gifts to their families. Many other cultures would find it strange that the Vril will care so dearly for someone they will do their best to never directly interact with, but it is one of the traditions most dear to their culture. It is noted that with the loss of a Rwir, the partner is usually slightly weaker in their psionics.
Banpsi: If your Rwur is the best friend you’ll never meet, your Ban is the worst enemy you can only hope the same for. A Ban is another Vril that develops their psionic abilties along with you, but something goes wrong. Rather than the two frequencies forming a new shared one, the frequencies form a parasitic relationship of preying on the other. Old superstitions say that when one experiences misfortune, the Ban is suddenly lucky, although this isn’t given credence by scholars. What is known is that a Ban using their abilities gives a sort of strain to the other. A more dominant Ban grows stronger and the other weaker, while a weaker Ban using their powers causes an unnatural stress and irritation to the other. It is considered extremely unlucky to have a Ban, although despite what cheap Vril plays would have you believe, an insane Ban hunting down their partner and ruining their life is rare. It still does happen, though. Bans have both an irrational urge to avoid their partner, yet also tend to develop an obsession with finding their other. Despite this, many philosophers put it as intimate to the soul as a Rwurpsi.
The two Knight relationships, the Wedjut, are known for their physical aspect, although in two different ways.
Venjut: The romance of the flesh. Entirely physical attraction, the more boorish from the surface might compare it to having a consort, but that is grossly demeaning. While a Curtul is analogous to typical surface romance, emphasis is placed on the affection of the relationship, and one is free to pursue an Venjut if they wish for more on that side of things, so long as one’s heart belongs to their Curtul. However, one must still care for and love their Venjut, and win their affections and please them through expression and dates and endearment, but not as intensely as in a Curtul.
Snitjut: Romance of spite. Notably different from a Banpsi, there is no real explanation for why one feels the way they do, and their feelings are much more clear than towards a Ban. To see someone as a Snit is to wish harm towards them. Motivated by hatred, by fear, by apathetic sadism, Snits duel against the other constantly, but seek not the competition of a Fitz but the others compete ruination. It is an irrational dislike and wish for violence upon another, and once one finds their Snit they usually need to start learning how to wash blood out of and stitch together their clothing. Unlike a Ban, a Snit is hyper focused on their partner solely. A Ban might go after their partner’s loved ones, a Snit has eyes only for their adversary. It is a subject of much debate if Snitjuts as a result of a biological trait inherent in the Vril, or if it is purely a societal trait. What drives a pair of Vril to despise each other on sight is yet another point of debate. Even the most passive and kindly Vril turns into a ferocious beast when they first identify their Snit.
The two relationships represented by the Bishop pieces are the Revick relationships. These are steeped in tradition that honors their goddess and her crafty ways. They are the least understood, even among the Vril.
Ludick: The romance of teasing. Whether it it platonic or not varies, but the relationship is always marked by a playful nature on one of the parties involved. Light hearted pranks or frequent audacious white lies are common expressions of this relationship, but truly it is the most varied of all in the Vril’s categorization. No two Ludick relationships are a like. Some are mutual, some involve the actions of only one party.
Oystjik: The romance of tormenting. The more mean spirited foil to a Ludick, and one of the relationships most frowned upon, an Oyst selects an unfortunate victim to mess with. A Lud enjoys interacting with their partner, and Oyst works in the shadows, leaving nasty surprises for their partner, or manipulating them for their own enjoyment. The only use for this relationship is for the Tormentor to be entertained by the grievances of their partner, the Fool. If the partner catches on, it can sometimes bloom into a Fitziago, but really even after being found out someone that is committed to being an Oyst is likely to keep doing so so long as it brings them joy.
The relationship represented by the Queen is a Curtul. It is the romance of the heart. Purely based around affection, respect and mutual admiration. A Curtul is expected to do their best to please their partner, and the same is expected for the other. The Vril are much more committed to their partner than any other race in the Underdark. Due to their species’ appreciation for personal freedom, one would only enter a Curtul if they truly loved the other, as it is a system of mutual servitude.
By contrast, the relationship represented by the King is known as a Maneek. It is marked not by affection, but mutual obsession. The nuances are often lost on observers, but for the Vril they know to tread carefully when they recognize a Maneek relationship. Wholly unhealthy, Vril in this relationship may be aggressive to outsiders they perceive as getting in their way, and overall both partners tend to encourage the worst traits in their partner as a misguided show of acceptance. If one’s Curtul is compared to a Maneek, expect it to be treated as a grave insult. There is great love, yes, but it is not affection or care or lust that guides this. Two Vril in a Maneek get along like a house on fire, and are just as dangerous.
Vril relationships are, to put it bluntly, based around power dynamics. Thus, the comparison to chess, as each partner represents the other side of the board. There is little confusion in a Vril relationship to its participants, they simply have to see the power dynamic between themselves and their partner to identify the issue. A partner engages in an action known as a ply that can be seen as a gesture of the relationship. It can have different meanings depending on the events in the relationship. A partner may give a present, and in doing so engage in plying. This gift can be read as an inquiry of affection seeking an affirmation, a pleasant surprise, a wish for forgiveness for some slight, etc. Depending on the context the power is in one party or the other, but regardless the giver is in half-ply and awaiting a response. If the giver has the power, the partner reciprocated to restore equilibrium, but it is possible in rocky relationships the giver engages in half-ply to forfeit their power to the receiver, and should they reject the gift or not respond in kind, the ply is not completed and the feelings are known.
It is incorrect to call the Vril a polyamorous race. They consider each relationship wholly separate from others, and indeed the idea that an individual has all 16 relationships is often a bawdy joke implying one’s ‘loose nature’, and one who is too open is regarded as en prise, and undesirable as it is felt they do not truly respect the commitment each relationship deserves.
The first eight relationships are the platonic Hytwiago relationships, represented by what the Empire above would call the Pawn.
Xeniago: The romance of hospitality. Several cultures above also practiced the rite of sacred hospitality, but few with such fervor as the Vril. To be welcomed as a guest is to become joined, ‘married’, into the house. If there is room, the master of the house agrees to accept those that come seeking aid. To ask for lodgings is to show a great trust, and this trust is held true. A master does not need to be an especially good host if they dislike the guest, but they do not deny them nor turn them out into the streets. In return, the guest must not abuse this hospitality, and must abide by the hosts wishes and express their gratitude. One infamous Vril play sparked debate for its controversial ending, where the villain is given to the authorities despite seeking hospitality.
Serviago: The romance of teaching. A master and an apprentice are in Serviago, as is a scholar and student. To have a personal teacher is to have a new parent, one who shall give a different perspective on the world, or teach different specialized skills. One who has taught in Serviago does not teach another. Even when the student has learned the necessary skills to be independent, they retain their ties with the teacher. In return, the teacher embarks on self-discovery through their tutelage. Some students despise their tutors and become their rivals after reaching independence, but always there is a lifelong bond, positive or negative. One’s tutor is likely to show up at important ceremonies.
Sangriago: The romance of the hunt. Tracing back to the tribal days of the Vril, comparable to blood brothers. To be in this relationship is to have a partner entrusted with your life, and who is as your right hand on the hunt. This relationship is mostly found in those that brave outside the settlements for hunting, exploring, or exterminating threats. Soldiers will often find their Sangri after several battles, and their enemies will often be unnerved by the supernatural coordination between two partners in this space. It is noted that, for whatever reason, as a Sangriago grows, the partners will begin to share slight physical characteristics with the other they lacked before, such as marks that resemble their partner’s scars, or gaining sharper claws or shriller howls than they had before.
Storgiago: The romance of family. No, not like that. Vril families tend to be... complicated. Surprisingly, there aren’t as many blood feuds between rival families as one might think, but that is often due to infighting in one’s own home. Vril families are close, if not emotionally, than in proximity. It is not uncommon for wealthy Vril to house their entire extended family in their manor, despite personal feelings. The Vril believe in being not loyal or loving to their family, but in being present. If a family member invokes the blood between them and you, it is saying they have no where else to turn and beg for your service. An overworld observer may note that while the Vril don’t have the most healthy familial relationships, they are shockingly stable and selfless ones.
Philliago: The romance of mending. One of the most common forms of romance a Vril is likely to experience, to have a Phill is to have a warden, of a sort. A Phill is, to put it one way, a fixer in need of their own tune up. Two Vril in a Philliago compliment the other’s negative traits and cover for their partner’s weakness and in turn the same is done for them. For example, one Vril is affable but prone to resorting to manipulation, the other is aggressive and earnest. In a Philliago, the former would try more straightforward methods, and the latter would become more sociable.
Agapiago: The romance of companionship. Known as the strongest of the Hytwiagos, to love an Agap is to love selflessly, completely, and platonically. This relationship do not ask for change nor sacrifice, yet often both come all the same. The death of an Agap is oftentimes enough to cause the survivor to die from grief shortly after.
Werdiago: The romance of the protector. A Vril imprints on another out of concern. It is marked by an obsessive need to care for and ensure the safety of the other, and unlike most forms of Vril romance, this is usually not a mutual expression given the context. The imprinted, however, does tend to express gratitude for the care they receive and even after the time of danger is past, a Werd cares for their imprinted. It is known this relationship can pop up even in other forms of relationships.
Fitziago: The romance of strife. Known to those above as a rivalry, but the Vril give it much more consideration. To be considered worthy of being a Fitz is to be seen as an equal with potential in one’s calling. Although occasionally antagonistic, it doesn’t have to be, it simply revolves around mutual competition in a field and a begrudging respect and admiration for the other. To have a Fitz is to continuously push oneself to betterment to best them.
The two ‘romances’ of the Rook are the Tyrtpsi, the romances of the mind. Both tend to be platonic, but it has been known that occasionally a Banpsi relationship has blossomed into something more, although as expected almost always not the most stable relationship.
Rwurpsi: When a young Vril begins to develop their psionic powers, it is known that they have a sort of personal frequency which stabilizes as they gain more mastery. Almost every Vril will have their frequency latched onto by another budding Vril that is in proximity but who hasn’t had contact with the partner. This is because the ‘frequencies’ will push around those that are developing near them, but will latch onto a more distant one it registers as passive. Basically this means most Vril have a psychic soulmate stranger somewhere in the same settlement. It is estimated that if 8/10 Vril form this connection, only 6/10 will actually discover who this partner is. Very rarely do they reach out to their Rwur, however. Instead, it is customary to maintain a distance between yourself and your partner in this relationship, but still keep close tabs on the other and send gifts to their families. Many other cultures would find it strange that the Vril will care so dearly for someone they will do their best to never directly interact with, but it is one of the traditions most dear to their culture. It is noted that with the loss of a Rwir, the partner is usually slightly weaker in their psionics.
Banpsi: If your Rwur is the best friend you’ll never meet, your Ban is the worst enemy you can only hope the same for. A Ban is another Vril that develops their psionic abilties along with you, but something goes wrong. Rather than the two frequencies forming a new shared one, the frequencies form a parasitic relationship of preying on the other. Old superstitions say that when one experiences misfortune, the Ban is suddenly lucky, although this isn’t given credence by scholars. What is known is that a Ban using their abilities gives a sort of strain to the other. A more dominant Ban grows stronger and the other weaker, while a weaker Ban using their powers causes an unnatural stress and irritation to the other. It is considered extremely unlucky to have a Ban, although despite what cheap Vril plays would have you believe, an insane Ban hunting down their partner and ruining their life is rare. It still does happen, though. Bans have both an irrational urge to avoid their partner, yet also tend to develop an obsession with finding their other. Despite this, many philosophers put it as intimate to the soul as a Rwurpsi.
The two Knight relationships, the Wedjut, are known for their physical aspect, although in two different ways.
Venjut: The romance of the flesh. Entirely physical attraction, the more boorish from the surface might compare it to having a consort, but that is grossly demeaning. While a Curtul is analogous to typical surface romance, emphasis is placed on the affection of the relationship, and one is free to pursue an Venjut if they wish for more on that side of things, so long as one’s heart belongs to their Curtul. However, one must still care for and love their Venjut, and win their affections and please them through expression and dates and endearment, but not as intensely as in a Curtul.
Snitjut: Romance of spite. Notably different from a Banpsi, there is no real explanation for why one feels the way they do, and their feelings are much more clear than towards a Ban. To see someone as a Snit is to wish harm towards them. Motivated by hatred, by fear, by apathetic sadism, Snits duel against the other constantly, but seek not the competition of a Fitz but the others compete ruination. It is an irrational dislike and wish for violence upon another, and once one finds their Snit they usually need to start learning how to wash blood out of and stitch together their clothing. Unlike a Ban, a Snit is hyper focused on their partner solely. A Ban might go after their partner’s loved ones, a Snit has eyes only for their adversary. It is a subject of much debate if Snitjuts as a result of a biological trait inherent in the Vril, or if it is purely a societal trait. What drives a pair of Vril to despise each other on sight is yet another point of debate. Even the most passive and kindly Vril turns into a ferocious beast when they first identify their Snit.
The two relationships represented by the Bishop pieces are the Revick relationships. These are steeped in tradition that honors their goddess and her crafty ways. They are the least understood, even among the Vril.
Ludick: The romance of teasing. Whether it it platonic or not varies, but the relationship is always marked by a playful nature on one of the parties involved. Light hearted pranks or frequent audacious white lies are common expressions of this relationship, but truly it is the most varied of all in the Vril’s categorization. No two Ludick relationships are a like. Some are mutual, some involve the actions of only one party.
Oystjik: The romance of tormenting. The more mean spirited foil to a Ludick, and one of the relationships most frowned upon, an Oyst selects an unfortunate victim to mess with. A Lud enjoys interacting with their partner, and Oyst works in the shadows, leaving nasty surprises for their partner, or manipulating them for their own enjoyment. The only use for this relationship is for the Tormentor to be entertained by the grievances of their partner, the Fool. If the partner catches on, it can sometimes bloom into a Fitziago, but really even after being found out someone that is committed to being an Oyst is likely to keep doing so so long as it brings them joy.
The relationship represented by the Queen is a Curtul. It is the romance of the heart. Purely based around affection, respect and mutual admiration. A Curtul is expected to do their best to please their partner, and the same is expected for the other. The Vril are much more committed to their partner than any other race in the Underdark. Due to their species’ appreciation for personal freedom, one would only enter a Curtul if they truly loved the other, as it is a system of mutual servitude.
By contrast, the relationship represented by the King is known as a Maneek. It is marked not by affection, but mutual obsession. The nuances are often lost on observers, but for the Vril they know to tread carefully when they recognize a Maneek relationship. Wholly unhealthy, Vril in this relationship may be aggressive to outsiders they perceive as getting in their way, and overall both partners tend to encourage the worst traits in their partner as a misguided show of acceptance. If one’s Curtul is compared to a Maneek, expect it to be treated as a grave insult. There is great love, yes, but it is not affection or care or lust that guides this. Two Vril in a Maneek get along like a house on fire, and are just as dangerous.
Eventually the goddess did arrive at the Amonjak’s palace, and was greeted by him, a crooked old thing with a bad heart, and his five candidates for the throne. All looked at her with apprehension. After all, the second Amonjak was handpicked by her, and was not even one of the potential heirs. But she just smiled. This lot seemed interesting, at any rate.
The Scholar, Yenlin, was the first candidate. Born with extremely weak psionic abilities he had instead turned to knowledge, investigating the histories both real and ‘real’ of the Vril and the Underdark. Currently the only Vril to know magic, although with an extremely rudimentary understanding he learned only by discovering a worn dark elf spell-book in some ruins. The most likely to expand the empire deeper into the Underdark and grow power.
The Soldier, Nythril, said to have been born without emotion or ambition. He had chosen the unglamorous life of a soldier for unknown reasons, and was really only a candidate due to his blood. He is often regarded as unsettling by others, but also without vice. It is also said he never changed expression even in battle, and the monsters in the Underdark would flee any encounter with him. The most likely to reach out to other powers in the Underdark, despite the rest of his races’ distrust of anything non-Vril and centuries of conflict.
The Bastard, Vulimer. Although the legitimate daughter of the current Amonjak, Vulimer’s aggressive personality and thug-like behavior has given her her nickname since she was young. An egoist ready to throw down with anyone that challenges her, Vuilmer is liked by few but reluctantly admired for her willpower and strength. It is said she has only ever lost a fight to her brother Nythril, and only when she grew disturbed how he never showed any signs of pain even as his body was broken. The most likely to advance the empire outwards to claim the land between the empire and the exit out of the Underdark and exterminate anything in her way.
The Silent, Werrin. Said to have been born with his brother’s missing psionic abilities, Werrin is almost completely crippled by his uncontrolled abilities which leave him weak and in pain. He whispers everything, as it is known his abilities enhance his natural howl into a dangerous blast. Kept isolated for most of his childhood, Werrin has been cared for by, of all things, his dark elf slave Shrin, one of the last still in the Underdark. Although loved for his kind nature, there are unsavory rumors that Shrin might be his Agap or Werd. The most likely to keep the empire isolated and on the defensive.
The Trickster, Anxen. The only candidate not related to the Amonjak and a folk hero of sorts, Anxen is a distant descendant of the original Amonjak’s line, although had nothing to her name. In the course of a few years, she had managed to use tricks and wits to get herself in the position she’s in now. Regarded as a true example of the Vril spirit, even after building her staircase to fame on backstabs she has few enemies with her silver tongue always managing to strike the right deal to smooth things over. The most likely to reach out to the surface.
Ickol did not have a horse in this race this time. Instead she made a declaration. There was a large troglodyte camp in a hidden ruined city. The leader of the troglodytes has discovered a key which, unknown to him, was to the greatest treasure in several hundred miles, an armory of the long-extinct Duergar. The candidate to successfully claim the key by theft, violence, trade, or peace is the Amonjak (although killing the competition isn’t allowed) and gets to claim the treasure for the empire to use as they see fit.
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BlackCat-055
Cultist Cat hopped on Donuts
As the monster attacked the merchant ships of Camelot, an ethereal golden giant ship approached it, it turned around, revealing dozens upon dozens of cannons, each one big and wide as a dragon's maw, the crew of the ship went here and afro manning the battlestations, on the prowl or tip of the ship was a purple haired girl who had messy braided ponytails in a red coat and a shirtless young man who had cowlicked hair.___________________________________________________________________
GM UPDATE:
___________________________________________________________________
Meanwhile, at the darkest depths of the western sea, the Leviathan-mother stirred, the newest of her progeny birthed into existence. This being, however, was not the sea-mother that most would think of. This was something else. Were you to ask her name, she would answer it to be Aqua, the Dark Leviathan and mate to The Decimation. In reality, her name was Meryl, though none knew this. This hulking monstrosity currently laid spread-eagle at the bottom of some deep ocean trench, nursing a swarm of lesser sea-beasts, most of which were themselves little but mindless water-serpents who could do little more than attack small boats. One, however, had grown slightly bigger than the others, and had a modicum of intelligence on its own, hence why Meryl addressed the creature.
"MY CHILD, I WOULD ASK SOMETHING OF YOU."
"What is it, mother?"
"YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE OF MY BROOD WITH INTELLIGENCE BEYOND JUST THE BASE INSTINCT REQUIRED TO CHEW ON MY UDDERS AND KILL THE SCUM THAT INFESTS THIS WORLD. YOU HAVE A SISTER, IN FACT."
"Really, how might I meet her?"
"YOU KNOW THOSE FLIMSY WOODEN BOXES THAT FLOAT UP THERE?"
Meryl gestured up with an immense tentacle.
"Indeed, boats I think they are called."
"YOUR SISTER OWNS THOSE. GO BREAK THOSE UNTIL SHE SHOWS UP. WHEN SHE DOES, MAKE HER COME VISIT ME."
Meryl emitted a low, gutteral hiss.
"SHE. NEVER. VISITS."
"Aren't I not supposed to break someone else's toys?"
Meryl growled and swiped at the sea serpent with another tendril, batting him into a nearby rock.
"YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO DISOBEY YOUR MOTHER YOU FILTHY PIECE OF DOLPHIN CRAP. NOW GET UP THERE AND KILL SHIT FOR MOMMY."
The sea serpent snarled, approximating a sigh.
"Yes, mother."
And with that, the creature swam off, and began to attack the merchant vessels of Camelot.
The girl shouted to the crew
"Man the Battlestation! Prepare the Cannons! Hook Launchers! And Siege Launchers! All of them! Now! Now! Now!"
She then turned to the young man
"Get your Whalers into high gear Captain Black Hawk!"
She then produced a bronze-plated rune stone that connected to a room deep within the ship, which is reminiscent of a cultist hideout, complete with ten members in robes preparing a ritual circle.
"Abbess Abigail, ETA on Ritual?"
"Just a few more minutes young one" said a mature woman with silver grey hair.
"The Ritual is almost complete, soon he will come to rid the spawn"
"Alright, alright, we'll cover for you and your ritualists till its done"
The young girl then looked out to the spawn of Meryl.
"ALRIGHT CREW! FIRE!"
The crew fired everything, giant canons, magic missiles, hooks that that pierced the skin of Meryl's spawn, constricting its movement, and demi-servants was launched out and landed on the Monster, wherein they proceeded to attack the monster at its most senstive parts.
Tanya was in the area looking at Ocaeril with a pensive look.In his flying form that had gained speed over time thanks to the Gum-Gum Fruit, Ocaeril made his way towards Camelot, but as soon as he approached the gates of the place, he soon stopped himself, floating mid-air, and letting go of his Chakra Cloak form. He didn't want to scare the locals, after all. And besides, he's looking a bit too much with this current appearance. Heck, he may feel more agile thanks to the fruit, but his clothes are too ridiculous as is!
Clapping his hands, Ocaeril returned to his normal form. White skin, horns, black eyes, and a formal outfit with a cloak. He looked like a demon, but anyone that felt his presence would know it was him- or at least he hoped so. He still carried the basket with Inqui inside of it and had that little earring on where the Dragon Slayer hid, but overall, his aura felt like him. He also cast an invisibility Jutsu over himself to cloak his presence and everything else about him- including Inqui and her basket, just to be safe.
He then sent a message to Tanya. It felt more like someone sending an MSM to someone, though.
Standing outside of Camelot. I'm coming in to talk about Zyr. Inqui is with me, on the basket.
He then sloooowly made his way inside where he usually met Tanya.
"I can see Inqui is reduced to a babbling toddler, anyways yes Zyr came in and attempted to get the book, Nakashashi came in and helped stopped him from getting it, she's in the library coordinating everyone as she attempts to bolster the royal library's defenses, anyways it seems a new threat has come, checking the communications logs, it seems a strange monster has come out and attack my merchant ships, the reason it's so important is because using Astral Projection, I noticed that it had the aura similar to my mother's, more specifically my mother's toxic and rejected shard, who's the text box example of Narcisstic Psychopath with a hint of Mania, anyways, I shall let you speak then Ocaeril"
Celestial Speck
I'm not a bad guy, I swear!
Ocaeril pouted at Tanya and crossed his arms.
"Hey! Inqui didn't get reduced or anything, she's just...Way, way sleepier."
However, as she began to speak once more about what actually mattered, Ocaeril tilted his head, arms still crossed, as he listened carefully. A book, huh? He assumed he tried to take one, but he'll likely need to ask her which one is it. "Gotcha, gotcha. I just talked to him a few minutes ago, too. He asked me to create a race of sentient shadows- Which is kinda obliged. They're called Novakins, they live mostly everywhere, but some are in the fogged islands and in the Underdark, too. Not sure what he'll do to them, but I'd say keep an eye on 'em. They're chill for now, but who knows what he might do."
But...He soon lost his cool look and got it replaced by a look of confusion and lostness. His ears perked up, as they floated behind him. "Wait, monster? Attacks? Your mom? You have a mom? I always assumed you just kinda appeared one day! I'm surprised. Still, the more you know~!" Ocaeril laughed and cleaned his nose. "I kid, I kid. Still, I kinda feel bad for being a brat in the old days now, though. I feel like I'd have more context."
With a grin, Ocaeril pulled out the Dragon Slayer spear, and his form changed to his Chakra Mode, followed by his arms extending and his muscles suddenly growing with the sound of...Rubber being heard from his muscles?
"I can deal with it if you wanna! I got a bunch of new powers this cycle! And this bad boy, too! Just say the word and I'll help you out! We are friends, after all! And work buddies, work buddies as well."
BlackCat-055
Cultist Cat hopped on Donuts
Tanya pinched the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes and seethed.
"an entire race that is innately specialized in stealth and other black ops is not what I need right now, I need to send another order to the R&D to develop runes that can detect them, thank you for the info it is greatly appreciated, I shall send a search party to get a sample that will be used to attune the detector runes"
Tanya shook her head.
"So far the Golden Horn seems to be doing fine, I'll call you on if trouble really hits up, but mortals shouldn't have to rely on the gods too much, still the help is appreciable
Celestial Speck
I'm not a bad guy, I swear!
"Hey hey, don't hurt them, alright? They're still good lads. So far they're just chilling and trading with Konoha. And I did place a weak spot on them, in case Zyr does something to them." It was likely, after all. And there was more info, too... "Also...Don't tell anyone else this, ever, but...Zyr is currently stealing all of the souls of the world to his afterlife. I'm not sure what it looks like, but it should act as more proof he's planning something. If possible, send me a copy of one of those books. It should help me deal with him. I also sent the Great Three to try and find his weakness, so if they come over, make sure they're well treated, alright, kon?"
...Ocaeril coughed into his hand as he said 'kon.' Eugh, the force of habit.
"Anyways, anyways, I agree with that. But the whole fact that your mom can apparently summon monsters like that and can take warships worries me, is all. Remember, mortals are my children. I can't help but worry, principally after Yimor. Still...I'll chills a bit. I'll go read in your library about stuff and whatever Zyr was searching for. Ciaossu. And remember, call me if anything happens! I'm tired of mass extinction events."
With that Ocaeril would then put walk/teleport to Tanya's library, and try and do some research on the book Zyr was looking for, other copies, or other books of the same series.
(
Space Buddha
)Not sure if this is ping worthy, just wondering in case you wanna do a GM Update about anything Oca finds if he does find anything.
BlackCat-055
Cultist Cat hopped on Donuts
Tanya for once actually showed a heightened emotion, she widened her eyes in shock before scrunching up her face as she gritted her teeth.
"No wonder...I can not stand for this, I cannot let some stupid beast who pretends to be a god simply because people fear them for their power, I cannot let that thing get away wit this, Tanya took out a copy of the book and gave it to Ocaeril"
Tanya immediately cut you off when you said that Meryl was Tanya's mother.
"That hag is not my mother, she is a copy, an inferior knock off that is so keen on harassing me because I was a sign that she was not good enough, I'd rather not be connected to her in any way posible, anyways, very well then, good luck Ocaeri"
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Celestial Speck
I'm not a bad guy, I swear!
Ocaeril caught the book in his hand as Tanya threw it at him, his hand stretching up like rubber, and catching it mid-air! It was just a show-off of his new power, but it was still cool. At least for him. He already had guessed it wouldn't be this easy to find his weakness, but he couldn't help but give off a big grin. This was already a big step in the right direction. Looking at the book, Ocaeril mentally put a note in his head to send descriptions about it to the Big Three to help in their search.
However, his grin soon disappeared as Tanya spoke, and he simply watched her. Before...He walked up to her, and gave her a little pat on the shoulder, and smiled. "I understand that. I feel similar feelings to a certain god." It was clear he was speaking about Arceus, however, resentment was no longer in his voice as he spoke of him. "But, you're one of my oldest friends, (even if I was a brat) so if she ever tries and hurt you, Camelot, or anyone for that matter, call me and I'll come by faster then a meteorite, yo!" With a grin and a thumbs-up, the god soon walked away for real, raising a hand up behind him.
"And Tanya? If Marah is on the throne, tell her I'm proud of her!"
With that, Ocaeril teleported away.
Selee-01
All according to my Scenario
Zyr’abaoth took a mortal shape once again, and began to hunt down the weakness of Ocaeril.
Space Buddha
Space Buddha
BlackCat-055
Cultist Cat hopped on Donuts
Tanya nods.
"Very well then, I'll take that in account, thank you Ocaeril for that, although I should note that you are at the very least better than your younger self, yes I know you were feeling something related to that, yes I can see it in your face, and no I'm not psychic, you get to realize that people show their thoughts on their faces from time to time when you live a milennia or so"
Tanya nods before sending a message to Marah by projecting herself to her, wherein she saw Marah cuddling with her husband Tuldor.
"Your father wanted me to tell you that he's proud of you, also I suggest finding a better spot, bye"
Tanya disappeared, and before Marah and Tuldor could react, Dai Lee came in rushing through the door, who then saw Marah and Tuldor doing the cuddling
Gravitys Momentum
Junior Member
Farmer Joe Action 1:
Joe stood up and dove into the globe, plumbing into the Cenobitian forests, their impact creating a small crater. Shapeshifting into the more appeasable form of a leather wearing and pierced Cenobite, the god then headed to the nearest Cenobite settlement and began infiltrating their ranks. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months which turned to years of gaining trust before Joe landed an apprenticeship to a biomancer of the Cenobites. The infiltration was fruitful as he learned their ways of morphing flesh and changing genes to create their hybrids. The mortals were quite fascinating as they delved into unknown magics. Before finally Joe learned all the man knew and slew him within a vined wrapping (looks like a mummy except its all plant matter now). Joe hauled the corpse back to the Holy Grain Empire and dumped it down. He reverted into a human form.
Joe then took the time to teach the HGE of the ways of biomancy and how to use them responsibly and for good. He would instill a deep discipline of respect for life. Setting the beginnings of the Biotic Oath, he established the Rooting and the Blooming principles.
With those rules set in place Joe took the Cenobite and shoved a seed into their chest. Roots emerged and blasted out with Joe's biomancy and plant magics. Branch and leaves and bark formed into a massive organic structure that pulsed. It was dubbed Zonot One. And the humans watched in awe. They were eager to learn of the ways of biomancy and change their nation like never before. So Joe taught within the Zonot and soon eight more zonots were formed throughout the Holy Grain Empire by the biomancers.
Joe's disciples soon formed Clades of what to research with four major ones forming. Hull, Fin, Crypsis and Gyre. The focus of the Hull Clade was protection, defense, durability, and the like. Its projects ranged from the strengthening of exoskeletons to the stabilization of zonot walls. Then the Fin, the study of movement is this clade's focus—both literal movement of creatures (especially flying creatures) as well as, for example, movement of resources through systems. The Crypsis with their secretive clade developing strategies for obscuring other nations’ views of the Biome. This includes literal camouflage as well as magic designed to hide knowledge or operations. Finally the Gyre, in which cyclical patterns and metamagic were their specialization. Projects included finding ways to redirect or nullify magic and advancing nature.
He spent more time with them and the biomancers grew close to the nobility and the king before taking power for themselves. The King and the nobles took oaths of peace and left for simpler lives. The biomancers succeeding in their coup d'état, established that the greatest biomancer of each Zonot would form a council and elect a Chief Nurturer to lead the newly christened Biome. Joe had watched it all through the years.
Laboratories were set up in all of the Biome after the reclamation and the nation became an inter-biological hub of unique organisms. Their research unlocking cytoplasts and krasis. Power started to become an issue so a mechanical project was taken on to power the laboratories. They created the Blistercoils, a series of gigantic waterwheels that were located in the middle of a large waterfall. The power was routed through organic channels that resembled the roots of a tree taking water to feed the entire organism.
Joe was happy with how the new Biome was turning out and wished well for it. A trend he had noticed were that the biomancers had started editing themselves to look more unique and he had to say, it didn't look too bad. One person had a second set of limbs that were actually giant crab pincers. Well as long as they were happy and it wasn't forced upon them. With this new avenue of a nation opened, Joe flew off to smoke Kush with the Plunts.
Joe stood up and dove into the globe, plumbing into the Cenobitian forests, their impact creating a small crater. Shapeshifting into the more appeasable form of a leather wearing and pierced Cenobite, the god then headed to the nearest Cenobite settlement and began infiltrating their ranks. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months which turned to years of gaining trust before Joe landed an apprenticeship to a biomancer of the Cenobites. The infiltration was fruitful as he learned their ways of morphing flesh and changing genes to create their hybrids. The mortals were quite fascinating as they delved into unknown magics. Before finally Joe learned all the man knew and slew him within a vined wrapping (looks like a mummy except its all plant matter now). Joe hauled the corpse back to the Holy Grain Empire and dumped it down. He reverted into a human form.
Joe then took the time to teach the HGE of the ways of biomancy and how to use them responsibly and for good. He would instill a deep discipline of respect for life. Setting the beginnings of the Biotic Oath, he established the Rooting and the Blooming principles.
The Rooting, named for the biological mechanism that keeps plants anchored to soil, advises citizens of the Biome never to stray so far from nature that they become "adrift." It espouses the idea that nature left undisturbed will evolve toward adaptive traits and increased strength. Nature will flourish and grow, and every creature will find its proper niche in the ecosystem where it can thrive. Mad science and unregulated haberdashery of organism growing will not be tolerated.
The Blooming, named for the phenomenon of plants releasing their seeds when they are close to death, advocates that the new and enlivened should replace the old and depleted in an unending cycle, bringing constant refreshment and renewal. This principle accounts for the Biome's analytical bent and its emphasis on knowledge as a means of transformation. The Blooming encourages every creature to discover its full potential through modification or renewal.
The Rooting encourages the Biome to promote nature; the Blooming urges them to perfect nature. The end result is the same: a hastened system of growth that brings out the best in every creature's nature. But different factions within the Biome interpret these principles in their own ways.
The Blooming, named for the phenomenon of plants releasing their seeds when they are close to death, advocates that the new and enlivened should replace the old and depleted in an unending cycle, bringing constant refreshment and renewal. This principle accounts for the Biome's analytical bent and its emphasis on knowledge as a means of transformation. The Blooming encourages every creature to discover its full potential through modification or renewal.
The Rooting encourages the Biome to promote nature; the Blooming urges them to perfect nature. The end result is the same: a hastened system of growth that brings out the best in every creature's nature. But different factions within the Biome interpret these principles in their own ways.
Joe's disciples soon formed Clades of what to research with four major ones forming. Hull, Fin, Crypsis and Gyre. The focus of the Hull Clade was protection, defense, durability, and the like. Its projects ranged from the strengthening of exoskeletons to the stabilization of zonot walls. Then the Fin, the study of movement is this clade's focus—both literal movement of creatures (especially flying creatures) as well as, for example, movement of resources through systems. The Crypsis with their secretive clade developing strategies for obscuring other nations’ views of the Biome. This includes literal camouflage as well as magic designed to hide knowledge or operations. Finally the Gyre, in which cyclical patterns and metamagic were their specialization. Projects included finding ways to redirect or nullify magic and advancing nature.
He spent more time with them and the biomancers grew close to the nobility and the king before taking power for themselves. The King and the nobles took oaths of peace and left for simpler lives. The biomancers succeeding in their coup d'état, established that the greatest biomancer of each Zonot would form a council and elect a Chief Nurturer to lead the newly christened Biome. Joe had watched it all through the years.
Laboratories were set up in all of the Biome after the reclamation and the nation became an inter-biological hub of unique organisms. Their research unlocking cytoplasts and krasis. Power started to become an issue so a mechanical project was taken on to power the laboratories. They created the Blistercoils, a series of gigantic waterwheels that were located in the middle of a large waterfall. The power was routed through organic channels that resembled the roots of a tree taking water to feed the entire organism.
A krasis is a creature that has been created through combining two or more different creatures, blending the features of the parent creatures into a composite whole. They are typically created through bio-magical techniques. The Biome uses magic to coax new morphologies from existing creatures, as well as to combine traits from multiple organisms in one. Some of these are unique creatures that can't reproduce. A few multiply and become part of the institute's fabric.
Cytoplasts are small masses of living tissue, magical in nature, appearing as blue-green globules. These globules convey genetic information to and from any life-form they come into physical contact with. For example, if a cytoplast in contact with a giant is transferred to a human, the cytoplast then begins to incorporate into the human the physical strength of the giant. Cytoplasts also tend to take on the physical characteristics of their hosts somewhat camouflaging themselves.
Cytoplasts are small masses of living tissue, magical in nature, appearing as blue-green globules. These globules convey genetic information to and from any life-form they come into physical contact with. For example, if a cytoplast in contact with a giant is transferred to a human, the cytoplast then begins to incorporate into the human the physical strength of the giant. Cytoplasts also tend to take on the physical characteristics of their hosts somewhat camouflaging themselves.
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Churl
Member
Ickol Action 2
The current Jade Emperor stared at the being that had appeared in ‘his’ dream. She was sipping at a glass of water.
“What is this?! Be you a Youkai?”
“Wow. Rude. Honestly, not...recognizing...a...god? Shame...on...you. You...have...brought...dishonor.”
“I... oh. I apolog-”
“Shame.”
“I’m just saying tha-”
“Shaaaaaame.”
“Can you let me finis-“
“Yes.”
“...”
“...?”
“... As I was saying, I mean no offense if you are indeed a goddess. However, may you forgive me and offer some proof to this claim?”
“Hm? Of...course. Will...this...do?”
Ickol brought her face up to the Emperor, and ‘he’ could see immortality in her eyes, ancient and powerful and he was less than an ant.
“Was...that...satisfactory?”
The Emperor nodded.
“You...seem...to...have...soiled...yourself.”
The Jade Emporer flinched and looked down to see... clean clothing. Until Ickol threw the rest of the water on ‘his’ pants. ‘He’ scowled, but did not have the heart to voice his displeasure. Ickol just smiled.
“Now. I...am...Agni...Limy, goddess...of...prophecy.”
“I’ve...never heard of a goddess like that.”
“Oh. So...suddenly...you’re...the...go-to...guy...on...this? I’m...sorry. Clearly...I...must...not...exist...if...this...heavenly...scholar...doesn’t...know...of...me. Look...at...me...go, all...nonexistent. Can...you...even...name...more...than...three...gods? There’s...a...ton...of...us, man. Gods...for...days. What...would...I...even...be...if...I’m...not...a...god, huh? Your...creepy...dream...about...subconsciously...wanting...to...feel...up...some...nonexistent...deer...girls? Didn’t...know...that...was...your...thing.“
“Okay, you made your point. Why do you come to me, oh great goddes?”
“It’s...your...grandkids, my...dude. One...of...them...is...fated...to...kill...you.”
“Wha- but-but I don’t even have-”
“Prophecies. What...part...of...goddess...of...prophecies...had...you...confused? No, yeah, actually...I...meant...you...already...had...grandkids, and...you’re...already...dead. Welcome...to...the afterlife, girl, there’s...cookies...and...punch...by...the...door. I’m...talking...about...the...future, asshole. You’re...going...to...have...at...least...one...grandkid, and...they’re...going...to...kill...you. Might...want...to...worry...about...that.”
“But what can I do?! The family line must continue.”
“Hey, I’m...just...the...messenger. Now...hurry...up, I’m...late...for...my...9 o’clock.”
The Jade Emperor watched as the goddess abruptly pulled out a hammer and swung it at ‘him’ before ‘he’ woke up in ‘his’ own bed. ‘He’ looked down. ‘He’ had actually soiled ‘himself’.
In the dream plane, Ickol laughed as she tossed off her ornamental garbs.
The current Jade Emperor stared at the being that had appeared in ‘his’ dream. She was sipping at a glass of water.
“What is this?! Be you a Youkai?”
“Wow. Rude. Honestly, not...recognizing...a...god? Shame...on...you. You...have...brought...dishonor.”
“I... oh. I apolog-”
“Shame.”
“I’m just saying tha-”
“Shaaaaaame.”
“Can you let me finis-“
“Yes.”
“...”
“...?”
“... As I was saying, I mean no offense if you are indeed a goddess. However, may you forgive me and offer some proof to this claim?”
“Hm? Of...course. Will...this...do?”
Ickol brought her face up to the Emperor, and ‘he’ could see immortality in her eyes, ancient and powerful and he was less than an ant.
“Was...that...satisfactory?”
The Emperor nodded.
“You...seem...to...have...soiled...yourself.”
The Jade Emporer flinched and looked down to see... clean clothing. Until Ickol threw the rest of the water on ‘his’ pants. ‘He’ scowled, but did not have the heart to voice his displeasure. Ickol just smiled.
“Now. I...am...Agni...Limy, goddess...of...prophecy.”
“I’ve...never heard of a goddess like that.”
“Oh. So...suddenly...you’re...the...go-to...guy...on...this? I’m...sorry. Clearly...I...must...not...exist...if...this...heavenly...scholar...doesn’t...know...of...me. Look...at...me...go, all...nonexistent. Can...you...even...name...more...than...three...gods? There’s...a...ton...of...us, man. Gods...for...days. What...would...I...even...be...if...I’m...not...a...god, huh? Your...creepy...dream...about...subconsciously...wanting...to...feel...up...some...nonexistent...deer...girls? Didn’t...know...that...was...your...thing.“
“Okay, you made your point. Why do you come to me, oh great goddes?”
“It’s...your...grandkids, my...dude. One...of...them...is...fated...to...kill...you.”
“Wha- but-but I don’t even have-”
“Prophecies. What...part...of...goddess...of...prophecies...had...you...confused? No, yeah, actually...I...meant...you...already...had...grandkids, and...you’re...already...dead. Welcome...to...the afterlife, girl, there’s...cookies...and...punch...by...the...door. I’m...talking...about...the...future, asshole. You’re...going...to...have...at...least...one...grandkid, and...they’re...going...to...kill...you. Might...want...to...worry...about...that.”
“But what can I do?! The family line must continue.”
“Hey, I’m...just...the...messenger. Now...hurry...up, I’m...late...for...my...9 o’clock.”
The Jade Emperor watched as the goddess abruptly pulled out a hammer and swung it at ‘him’ before ‘he’ woke up in ‘his’ own bed. ‘He’ looked down. ‘He’ had actually soiled ‘himself’.
In the dream plane, Ickol laughed as she tossed off her ornamental garbs.
KolastoRPN
Member
Helsa Action 3
In the middle of nowhere, in Nekomatus lands, a single snake traveled along the ground. There was nothing special about it, it was just a snake.
And then, something appeared in it's path. It didn't even get the chance to react.
"Yes, you'll do nicely."
Powerful corruptive magics fused with the snakes body, causing it's form to outright distort and it's mind to grow more intelligent...and cruel. It's form became humanoid, while retaining it's serpentine features.
It understood why it was created. It was the first of the Serpent Demons, the newest minions of the Goddess of Corruption. It existed only to serve her every whim, to do as she said and enjoy what it did.
The Serpent Demon kneeled before the grinning Helsa. "Now...onto the next snake..."
Over the next couple of weeks, there would be rumors of snakes being transformed into horrible humanoid monsters. They would vanish into the woods, and those that saw them all claimed they saw a dark, green eyed figure leading those changed serpents...
In the middle of nowhere, in Nekomatus lands, a single snake traveled along the ground. There was nothing special about it, it was just a snake.
And then, something appeared in it's path. It didn't even get the chance to react.
"Yes, you'll do nicely."
Powerful corruptive magics fused with the snakes body, causing it's form to outright distort and it's mind to grow more intelligent...and cruel. It's form became humanoid, while retaining it's serpentine features.
It understood why it was created. It was the first of the Serpent Demons, the newest minions of the Goddess of Corruption. It existed only to serve her every whim, to do as she said and enjoy what it did.
The Serpent Demon kneeled before the grinning Helsa. "Now...onto the next snake..."
Over the next couple of weeks, there would be rumors of snakes being transformed into horrible humanoid monsters. They would vanish into the woods, and those that saw them all claimed they saw a dark, green eyed figure leading those changed serpents...
Gravitys Momentum
Junior Member
Farmer Joe Action 2:
Joe dragged a kush and sighed, in his haze he decided to check up on his gobs.
Oh fuck.
Joe thought as he saw the thousands of corpses as the other nations converged upon them and massacred.
Shit. I liked those little gobs, this needs to stop.
The farmer god transformed into a scarred goblin in heavy armor and appeared in the caves of the last few goblin tribes. He created copies of his goblin form and sent them to get the other tribes to head to an abandoned port. Another set of copies that looked like hobgoblins were sent to get their last few hobgoblin tribes out to the port as well. The copies all left and did as they were assigned. Joe began to convince the current tribe of goblins of a better life than this.
"Rally with me! We shall leave and seek a new life. Riches and meats that we can all have!"
Readily convinced, the tribes exodused out. Within a few days goblin and hobgoblin alike all converged to the abandoned Port of Ixalis, where ships had crashed and died. There at the disrepaired docks was a small fleet of ships waiting for them. Joe had prepared that with the Plunts' help beforehand. Then all the assorted gobs boarded and set sail to a far island where they could be at peace. Joe took on the name of Krozus the Gob-Admiral.
Eventually the goblins settled upon the perfect location. A rounded island with a single tall and narrow mountain, surrounded by strategic krags and smaller islands that would destroy the hull of any ship and sink. It was between the western and eastern continents, where they could launch raids on trade ships. However it was inhabited by an Imperial garrison, the Revelry staged a raid late at night and rid the island of sentient life. They turned it into their stronghold.
Platforms on the smaller islands were created, where ballistas and artilleries and harpoons were constructed to launch at any ship not bearing the flag of pirate. Then on the main island, the tribes found pigs and set up hog farms to satisfy their need for flesh. Joe trained them in basic naval skills and how to kill as a group and individually. More ships were made as the gobs took on pirate flags and set sail from their homebase, the pirates taking on the collective name of The Revelry.
The island established itself as a haven for all pirates as long as they gave a cut of loot to the Revelry as tribute. Then repairs and maintenance of their ships as well as being a place of refuge and a selling area would be open to them. To enter the island without harm, a specific flag would have to be waved at entry or be cannoned down. The flag would then have to be replaced with another if not at the island.
With all their basic infrastructure created, Joe left as they flourished in a life of piracy. Gaining a larger fleet as ships were boarded and stolen and living off of pigs and tropical fruit. In honor of Krozus, the name became a title for the leader of the Revelry. One who would make sure the Code was enforced and that loot was collected.
How nice of them.
Joe watched from his television of their future pursuits.
Joe dragged a kush and sighed, in his haze he decided to check up on his gobs.
Oh fuck.
Joe thought as he saw the thousands of corpses as the other nations converged upon them and massacred.
Shit. I liked those little gobs, this needs to stop.
The farmer god transformed into a scarred goblin in heavy armor and appeared in the caves of the last few goblin tribes. He created copies of his goblin form and sent them to get the other tribes to head to an abandoned port. Another set of copies that looked like hobgoblins were sent to get their last few hobgoblin tribes out to the port as well. The copies all left and did as they were assigned. Joe began to convince the current tribe of goblins of a better life than this.
"Rally with me! We shall leave and seek a new life. Riches and meats that we can all have!"
Readily convinced, the tribes exodused out. Within a few days goblin and hobgoblin alike all converged to the abandoned Port of Ixalis, where ships had crashed and died. There at the disrepaired docks was a small fleet of ships waiting for them. Joe had prepared that with the Plunts' help beforehand. Then all the assorted gobs boarded and set sail to a far island where they could be at peace. Joe took on the name of Krozus the Gob-Admiral.
Eventually the goblins settled upon the perfect location. A rounded island with a single tall and narrow mountain, surrounded by strategic krags and smaller islands that would destroy the hull of any ship and sink. It was between the western and eastern continents, where they could launch raids on trade ships. However it was inhabited by an Imperial garrison, the Revelry staged a raid late at night and rid the island of sentient life. They turned it into their stronghold.
Platforms on the smaller islands were created, where ballistas and artilleries and harpoons were constructed to launch at any ship not bearing the flag of pirate. Then on the main island, the tribes found pigs and set up hog farms to satisfy their need for flesh. Joe trained them in basic naval skills and how to kill as a group and individually. More ships were made as the gobs took on pirate flags and set sail from their homebase, the pirates taking on the collective name of The Revelry.
The island established itself as a haven for all pirates as long as they gave a cut of loot to the Revelry as tribute. Then repairs and maintenance of their ships as well as being a place of refuge and a selling area would be open to them. To enter the island without harm, a specific flag would have to be waved at entry or be cannoned down. The flag would then have to be replaced with another if not at the island.
With all their basic infrastructure created, Joe left as they flourished in a life of piracy. Gaining a larger fleet as ships were boarded and stolen and living off of pigs and tropical fruit. In honor of Krozus, the name became a title for the leader of the Revelry. One who would make sure the Code was enforced and that loot was collected.
The Revelry keeps extensive records of those crews aligned to them. Those who serve under a Captain aligned to The Revelry are considered members bound by its laws of non violence and theft against other members whilst within their island; additionally, piracy committed against other members whilst on the seas is strictly forbidden. However only major disputes seem to ever reach the Plank King's ears, with minor incidents such as bar fights or assaults being overlooked or never even reported.
It should be noted that membership to the Revelry is not solely limited to the various pirate crews that operate in its name. Those who form the citizens of the island itself are also considered members and are thus both protected and adherent to its laws.
There is also a basic system of law and order amongst The Revelry's members. In the event of a major dispute between two or more Revelry members pertaining to the breaking of the law, their case is brought before the Krozus at which point the parties argue their cases and the Krozus makes judgement accordingly. If one party is found to be at fault, depending on the severity of the offence, the offending party may be sentenced to pay some form of restitution to the offended party or may even be put to death if the Krozus deems it suitable.
It should be noted that membership to the Revelry is not solely limited to the various pirate crews that operate in its name. Those who form the citizens of the island itself are also considered members and are thus both protected and adherent to its laws.
There is also a basic system of law and order amongst The Revelry's members. In the event of a major dispute between two or more Revelry members pertaining to the breaking of the law, their case is brought before the Krozus at which point the parties argue their cases and the Krozus makes judgement accordingly. If one party is found to be at fault, depending on the severity of the offence, the offending party may be sentenced to pay some form of restitution to the offended party or may even be put to death if the Krozus deems it suitable.
How nice of them.
Joe watched from his television of their future pursuits.
KolastoRPN
Member
Helsa Conversational
Deep beneath her island, in the cavern that housed the tear tracts from so long ago, Helsa sat upon the ground, thinking.
Yes, all according to plan, everything perfectly planned out for my goals, everything I need to truly take this world, heheHAHAHAHhehehHeHeHEh….
A truly insane smirk was on her face as her crazed mind thought, her eyes dilated and tentacle hair waving madly.
Yes, everything and everyone will be under my control, even Oc-
Until in a single instant, it stopped. Her insane grin fell into a nightmarish frown.
As her mind replayed Ocaeril's death. Over. And over. And over. Including the sheer storm of emotions that caused her to break in the first place.
And her own insane mind conjured up too many nightmarish ways for Ocaeril to suffer and die, things that tore into her mind, her own eyes dilating from the sheer madness of the scenes, impossible to ignore to think to understand-
"I will go find him. Just to check. I cannot experience that storm of emotions again." Helsa whispered, before vanishing in a cloud of corruptive smog.
She would reappear in front of Ocaeril, her smirk calm once again, and yet there was still that hint of insanity in her...alongside something else, something Ocaeril couldn't recognize.
Celestial Speck
Deep beneath her island, in the cavern that housed the tear tracts from so long ago, Helsa sat upon the ground, thinking.
Yes, all according to plan, everything perfectly planned out for my goals, everything I need to truly take this world, heheHAHAHAHhehehHeHeHEh….
A truly insane smirk was on her face as her crazed mind thought, her eyes dilated and tentacle hair waving madly.
Yes, everything and everyone will be under my control, even Oc-
Until in a single instant, it stopped. Her insane grin fell into a nightmarish frown.
As her mind replayed Ocaeril's death. Over. And over. And over. Including the sheer storm of emotions that caused her to break in the first place.
And her own insane mind conjured up too many nightmarish ways for Ocaeril to suffer and die, things that tore into her mind, her own eyes dilating from the sheer madness of the scenes, impossible to ignore to think to understand-
"I will go find him. Just to check. I cannot experience that storm of emotions again." Helsa whispered, before vanishing in a cloud of corruptive smog.
She would reappear in front of Ocaeril, her smirk calm once again, and yet there was still that hint of insanity in her...alongside something else, something Ocaeril couldn't recognize.
Celestial Speck
Celestial Speck
I'm not a bad guy, I swear!
Helsa Conversational
Deep beneath her island, in the cavern that housed the tear tracts from so long ago, Helsa sat upon the ground, thinking.
Yes, all according to plan, everything perfectly planned out for my goals, everything I need to truly take this world, heheHAHAHAHhehehHeHeHEh….
A truly insane smirk was on her face as her crazed mind thought, her eyes dilated and tentacle hair waving madly.
Yes, everything and everyone will be under my control, even Oc-
Until in a single instant, it stopped. Her insane grin fell into a nightmarish frown.
As her mind replayed Ocaeril's death. Over. And over. And over. Including the sheer storm of emotions that caused her to break in the first place.
And her own insane mind conjured up too many nightmarish ways for Ocaeril to suffer and die, things that tore into her mind, her own eyes dilating from the sheer madness of the scenes, impossible to ignore to think to understand-
"I will go find him. Just to check. I cannot experience that storm of emotions again." Helsa whispered, before vanishing in a cloud of corruptive smog.
She would reappear in front of Ocaeril, her smirk calm once again, and yet there was still that hint of insanity in her...alongside something else, something Ocaeril couldn't recognize.
"Meeeeeeeeh..."
As Ocaeril sat atop the stands inside the demiplane of Tanya's library reading through the absolute chore that was the Book of the Dragon, he couldn't help but feel a little tired. A part of him was still childish and young- that same part finding boring the fact it's the 21th time he's read that book to try and memorize it and find any possible clues.
That same part of him also wanted to go out and do something. Maybe talk to some of his children, watch stuff happen, and maybe even fight some people with his new power to train in case he ever fights Zyr. But...He already wasted all his divinity this cycle. And he'll have to wait for the rest...
"I guess I'm done this cycle...Oh well, at least I got a lot of stuff..." Despite Inqui being on the basket on his back, Ocaeril spoke to particularly no one. An yawn came from his lips, as the book was put inside the basket, and the moment he turned around--
He'd almost meet head first into Helsa.
Ocaeril blinked. His ears and tails perked up, as he hid himself a little bit on his cloak, just staring at Helsa.
"...Um, hello, Helsa? Do you...Need something?"
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