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Fantasy The Worst Pantheon: Live and Reloaded (IC Thread) (OPEN)

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GM POST #11


  • @Revan4221 | @BlackCat-055 | @Scrump_Diddle | @Stikes | @KolastoRPN | @The Void Ever Watching | @Selee-01 | @Churl | @Barbas | @Lolface390 | @Celestial Speck | @CutieBoop | @Gravitys Momentum | @Just_a_loneley_pilgrim | Puppernickel Puppernickel
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    Dawn of the New Year: 1550


    Somewhere, deep in the forests of the Spartycan coast, an old dilapidated cabin stood atop a small hill, covered by tree canopy. The song of birds masked the activities within, as any from the nearby village might tell you, this cabin housed an elven lad about sixty years of age. Young for his species, but regardless he bore a scraggly grey beard and gave off the energy of a hermit. Within the cabin, the man furiously banged on a typewriter, stacking pages he deemed appropriate and discarding those with any clear errors. It had to be perfect, as, after all, this would be the manifesto of the unknown criminal who had mailed cursed packages with the intent of causing grievous bodily harm to several people he suspected of being ickolic-doppleganger-alien-whispering hybrids. In the following he details his elaborate ideology. As of yet though, he hadn’t actually gotten down any of his important points.

    “Hmmm, how should I start this? Ah!”



    Andyrecas:


    Democratic Mago-Technological Society, and its Future.


    1: The advent of democratic government in the west and its consequences have been a disaster for the human races. It has certainly granted us a say in politics for those of us who live in “advanced” countries, but they have destabilized a once harmonious society, given way to mob rule, and offer even more power to shadowy groups of elites who control the media organizations throughout the western world, and uncontrolled immigration now threatens our once sacred way of life so that our leaders can continue to damage the natural world through expansion.

    2: In its current state, democratic society may survive, or it may break down. If it survives, it MAY be capable of fending off an invasion by the alien sirens that the government denies the existence of, and our culture MAY in time reassert itself over the inane multicultural gibberish being pushed by the shapeshifting elite, but only after passing through a long and painful process of internal strife and turmoil sure to reduce much of the population to a subhuman cattle-race in the care of the shapeshifters.

    3: The more of our world is brought into the fold of this false-notion of “enlightenment” that is being pushed, the more painful it will be on the whole when this system inevitably fails, or worse, should it not fail at all, it may give way to the annexation of our world by alien forces.


    Arceus:


    4: Evidence of the fact that this system is corrupt will be presented throughout this essay, where we will point out its societal issues such as historical revisionism, an example of which being an unwillingness to account for the spearian temples built across the world, indicating that advanced, global civilization is nothing new, and that it has risen and fallen before, along with tampering in traditional faiths such as the continued addition of new demigods to the arcean and tiamatic faiths. Accompanying this will be descriptions of physical threats created by this system, such as those that magical advancement, democracy, the alien forces that influence our minds and our dreams, and technology pose to the natural world and its people. At no point do we offer commentary on reform of this system, as we believe doing so to be impossible.

    5: Therefore, we advocate revolution against the first democratic nation before these ideas can spread across the world, rendering us all vulnerable to alien brainwashing. This does not necessitate violence, but something must be done to ensure that this so-called enlightenment is contained.

    Baldur:

    The Dangers of Modern Complacency

    6: In its current state, our democratic society is incapable of standing against growing threats outside of its borders that are becoming increasingly dynamic, the greatest example of which being the oft-ignored Underdark. Following the somewhat obscure event during the mid-1520s in which a comet-like object streaked across the sky, inducing strange variations in wildlife such as the emergence of the ‘pokerus’ virus and bizarre fused creatures aptly-called ‘fusion-beasts’ by the establishment before their extermination, it is believed that in some remote part of the east, by myself as well as many other concerned activists, that rodents have evolved into humanoid shape, developed sentience and migrated underground, where they have formed connections with the deep-dwelling vril empire, the catfolk, and possibly even the daemon-worshipping Aboleths. This newfound unity of the depths brings untold dangers to the decadent western cultures, as these uncucked societies will surely seek to expand.

    7: This may not necessarily be a military threat. The ratfolk are said to spread their culture into those nations they ally with, eroding their traditions with ‘exotic cuisine’ and other multicultural nonsense, and so it is entirely within the realm of possibility that our ‘democracy’ may willingly allow these aliens within our borders, wherein they will surely interbreed and violate the purity of culture and species, further weakening our collective strength for much greater threats to take hold, internal or external.

    8: Inseparable from this is the modern phenomena of UFOs. One might scoff at such an assertion but no sane professor, even in the corrupt democratic hellholes that are modern universities can deny the existence of such with a straight face, though they may be told to. Within the last thirty years, since the fall of the aforementioned comet, sightings of beings thusfar to be referred to as “Sirens”, alongside their sky-navigating vessels, have increased tenfold, along with allegations of an aggressive and radioactive ‘bigfoot’ stalking the western landmass. These beings are known to hold nothing but hostile intent as the research of profound UFOlogist Sir Doulton of Exodia has proven, and with all this in mind I am certain that, short of a total collapse of our complacent, elemental-dependent and possibly even collaborationalist society, we will not be able to build up a defense against these outsiders to our world.

    Diddly:

    The Psychology of Republicanism

    9: It is no secrets that our governments have, for centuries, been a disorganized, chaotic mess, yet today this is far more noticeable than any time before in history, and one symptom of this is the international movement we refer to as republicanism. Adherents to this ideology hope to quash remaining monarchies and emulate the first example of republicanism in practice, and what they see as a ‘model state’, the so-called united states of the eastern plains, an ineffectual remnant that founded the initial practice of “constitutional government”, supposedly serving as an inspiration for nations all across the western world to abandon authoritarianism and seek a fair and just system. Preposterous.

    10: Worse yet, such ideologies are actively endorsed by extra-ocaerillian forces, as can be easily surmised by the stone monoliths present throughout the eastern plains, clearly of sirenic design. Their appearance coincided with the mist-storm that neutralized most remaining acid pools and their presence has drawn otherwise enlightened primitivists to found villages in worship of these outside abominations, and as is widely known the diabolical blood-rituals of this cult will spread west, as their so-called ‘Aetherium’ stones that, contrary to their narrative of mining this miracle mineral is known to originate from mass-bloodletting ceremonies, the anemia of the populace is a clear indicator of this. Infant sacrifice is also widely suspected, but unproven.

    Helsa:

    Infiltration of the Mind

    11: Worse yet, even our inner thoughts are not safe from the constant barrage of propoganda our dreams in particular, countless of those of the psionic persuasion, which thanks to the filth they pour into our water and air now constitutes a fifth of greater humanity (The totality of demihuman races including their common ancestor), report visitation by heroes of the past, idealized and warped beyond their known history, and many of whom are of the opposite sex than historically known. This psychic interference is likely generated through top secret psychotronic weapons produced by the M&D cartel and being used to promote further “Progressive” revisionism, such as the dubious transvestitism of Silva of Titania and portrayal of the jade imperial line as one of disguised queens. Some wizards in institutions claimed to have summoned and bound the spirits of these figures to their service via the dreamlands! Preposterous, not so preposterous as the depressed dregs of society whose medications have not stopped them from reaching out and reporting psychic experiences in the throne of heroes itself, but preposterous nonetheless.

    Ickol:

    Additional Dangers of Historical Revisionism and False Flag Operations

    12: The defilement of history is evident all around us, case and point, our great nation of Spartycus, a state that, contrary to what we are told, did not wage a glorious conquest across the west in the name of god and with the aid of his anointed. In fact, short of a few decades ago, Spartycas did not even exist. Our nation, for all its patriotism, as proven by the testimony of the Court Mages cited in the bibliography, was only founded after a secretive unification agreement signed by remaining western powers after the war. Spartycas was the end result, and an elaborate false history was crafted, with the aid of alien technology used to fashion the so-called ‘demigods’ amidst its ranks..

    13: “War veterans” are paid actors, battles were reeinacted in the midst of cities, condemned criminals were covertly moved into cities before the ‘conquest’ to be executed as ‘casualties of war’. This is indisputable fact, unless one believes that every court mage in the west is owned, which I personally suspect is a false-flag assertion.

    Inqui:

    14: On the topic of false flag operations, the most significant of such has been not in the west, but in the eastern hemisphere of our world, as one will remember the meticulously staged assassination of General Chiyo by an international vigilante movement known in their own circles as the Anti Heroes, having close ties with other remaining anti-establishment communities. Having been framed for this act the total eradication of their movement was thereby justified.

    Modern Technology, Magic, and the Destruction of the Natural World:

    15: The continental fervor for rebuilding the corrupt infrastructure of the previous systems has been a tragic mistake of western man, specifically in the field of Magic, but technology as well. In the case of the former, the construction of international educational institutes in the west in the blind pursuit of magical power has led to the maddening and death of countless students whose gullible parents sent them off without thought after they demonstrate even the slightest talent in manipulating the winds.

    16: Of course, driven by pure secularism, they don’t particularly care. A few rural communities devoured by Daemons is of no consequence in the face of ‘Progress’. Even in fields of less destructive magic, such as biomancy and Chakral manipulation, they develop increasingly suspect methods that no nation which honored the harmony of magic, such as the Biome, would ever tolerate in ages past.

    17: With the central institutionalization of magic in place in the west, we now fear our future may resemble the current state of the defiled ancestors of the elves. Cenobites, a docile populace enslaved by their own vices and ruled by an addiction to physical pleasure at the expense of morality, ruled by an even more immoral elite, gratifying themselves through truly despicable means, and worshipping the eldritch gods of the cosmos while their citizens worship their own loins.

    Ocaeril:

    18: Technology is not as guilty as magic, as evident by the fact that magic has allowed for senseless destruction on a much larger scale, such as the awakening which blew several fresh holes in the firmament, but regardless it remains a portion of our society’s death knell, each advancement serving to restrict our innate nature. For example, rebuilt cities now revolve around the system of roads, the car now a mandatory possession for any living in what were once a pedestrian utopia.

    19: Power grids are being built once more, their reach expanded by imported kohonan technology and even the once anti-technology druids of the jungle call for further industrialization of our land! The development of modern irrigation has led to the destruction of countless acres of the rainforest to accommodate more farmland, which produces a surplus of food. Who doesn’t love more food? Ask the people of the Spartycan capital! The most densely populated city in the west now having a mass-exodus of its condensed population out of the cities and to the country.

    20: Why? An explosion in the world’s population caused by such a surplus of food, urge to replace the male population lost in wars, and modern medicine ensuring most children survive into adulthood. This increasing population has led to the exodus from cities into the country, which will in turn lead to more cities being built, which will lead to more people being born, which will lead us to create more farmland by cutting down more of the rainforest, which will in turn lead to even more people being born due to another surplus!

    21: Some erroneously call this an age of prosperity, and while quality of life may have objectively improved for some (Much as it did for the Cenobites at their dawn), the failure of most states to heed the ideals of those who first provided these technologies, that of the preservation of nature, as corrupted as it may have become in kohonan, Biomic and druidic cultures will inevitably lead to mass extinction of wildlife, the loss of our humanity, and the death of our natural world.

    Oen:

    The Siren Strategem

    22: This is, of course, all part of a greater plot by aliens. Note, when we refer to aliens, we are not referring to beings from other worlds. Any looking to the sky may note the writhing, betentacled abomination with a billion eyes that looms above the spheres and drives any whom’st beholds it to madness, save for myself, the author, of course. When referring to aliens, we refer to the popular conception of beings from other worlds, the tall, feminine creatures described as being like tattoo’d elves with inhuman eyes and who on average demonstrate capabilities outside the realm of possibility for a psyker of greater humanity. These beings, known popularly as Sirens, (not to be confused with the savage, all-female merfolk tribe known to attack members of other races for the purpose of mating and consumption in any given order, despite physical and biological similarities between the two) are believed by the writers of this work not to originate from outer space, which despite the beliefs of popular transmundanism, does not exist.

    23: Some might additionally assert that Sirens originate from another plane, however to refute this we refer to the Order of the Watch, a group of void-desert dwellers and rural folk made up in large part by the Scorpi Tribe, whose monoliths that they fervently protect will, should one without ill intent purchase themselves an audience, quite forcibly inform the viewer of the impenetrable nature of our plane by others. To substantiate this one need only look in the total disappearance of Fae from our world, and the long-term fluctuation of the magical realm effected by the rise of those monoliths, consistent failure of modern mediums and necromancers despite centuries of no trouble to contact the dead, and other such interference in planar maneuverings.

    24: More evidence can be found in dreams. Past generations bore no hardship recalling their experiences in the land of nod, yet today lest one right down their activities they will struggle to remember by noon. Certainly the barriers between our world and that of dreams, and indeed all other worlds, have hardened in the past century, and based on the monolith, by an act of the gods, who most certainly exist, mind you, but note that Sirens are more common on our world than ever before, and so I point to the Islands of Mundia and Acore, two small islands in the south central sea known for their bizarre natives and rock formations. The demihumans native to the island of acore were researched extensively by kohonan specialists, noting their custom of tatooing themselves from head-to-toe, pointing of their own teeth via stones, outright hostility toward male offspring and using biomancy to induce hermaphroditism in their population. The art of this culture depicts flying saucers and bizarre, furry humanoids, making influence by a more advanced culture clear.

    25: More pressing is the whirlpool on Mundia, into which the alcorians present sacrifices in the form of jewels and fruit. This whirlpool has never been explored due to the hazardous terrain of mundia requiring an expensive mountain climbing expedition, however we suspect it to be not a whirlpool at all, but a gateway into the inner world of Ocaeril, an “Under-Underdark”, if you will, wherein the Sirens reside, and possibly other beings, such as the furred humanoids, and the insectoids sighted after the incident in Camelot, wherein six abductees were burned to death in alleyways by unknown assailants.

    Original:

    26: Regarding Camelot, further evidence of their involvement in this conspiracy can be ascertained by looking at its supposedly immortal leader, but while the public may know this being as a demilich of some sort, we have become aware, through our sources (cited below) in the Biome we came to be aware of a synthetic duplicate of the aforementioned dictator, and although the existence of this clone is only suspected evidence would suggest that the “Immortal Queen of Camelot” is simply a dynasty of identical beings, possibly siren duplicates. Indeed, they have been here for a long time.

    Shapeshifting and Genetic Alteration

    27: Regarding identical beings, the possibility is in no way remote. In the now-liberated state of Larion, Changelings, albeit few in number since a number of carefully covered-up purges, walk openly on the streets, each capable of shifting form at will. Evidence of these beings having been artificially engineered in the past is plentiful, as is that in leaked spartycan documents that suggest above them exists a class of true shapeshifters, varying in description from faceless men to skeletal grey-skinned amphibians of a sort, who created and rule over changelings. ‘Dopplegangers’, as they are known in folklore, have never been proven to exist empirically, however anecdotal evidence is rampant, and the Biome’s acquisition of cytoplasts offering minor shapeshifting abilities following the annexation of larion. Not a mere coincidence, we believe.

    28: The previous paragraph served to illustrate that with modern magic and technology, the total alteration of one’s appearance or the fashioning of one person to resemble another is in no way beyond possibility, and we suspect it to be being conducted routinely by the elites. Imagine, any world leader acting against the goals of some shadowy organization might be abducted and covertly replaced, and the public would never be the wiser. Regardless of whether or not this is true, it is an undeniable fact that it is at least possible, and why would that be? The answer is simple. Western Modernity. Thus, to ensure such an elite cabal cannot exist, whether or not this Syndicate of shapeshifters already does (which we do not doubt in the slightest) our technology and magical knowledge must be forsaken for the benefit and continued survival of greater humanity.

    Tiamat:

    The Corruption of Traditional Faith

    29: With modern society defiling so many aspects of mankind’s nature (And that of its evolutionary cousins), it stands to reason that our traditional religions would be bent over and violated in the name of ‘progress’ as well. Religions that venerate nature especially seem to be a target of this, fertility cults and the children of the sea being an obvious case, with historical revisionism coming into play once more as church leaders worldwide alter their ancient lore to account for the addition of several new gods to their pantheon in contradiction of the origin story of their goddess, while simultaneously partaking in the corrupt “Progress” of westernism by transforming something as innocent as music (albeit with subliminal messaging technology it is far from innocent today) into yet another system of magic which draws upon deadly forces.

    30: With control of the weather in the hands of once-naturalistic peoples the rape of nature may continue unabated. With any farmer now able to call down rain at will with aid of a few folk priests a few scholars, even those of the modern society fear a possible runaway greenhouse effect due to excess moisture! But the cattle-populace doesn’t heed their words, ‘pretty music go brrrr’ they say. Leading the charge of these new developments are the Triton of all peoples, again a once noble race now enraptured in western progression following the apparent permanent destruction of the demon “Cygon” whose continued attacks on their society kept it stagnant for the last centuries, though according to transmundanist schools of thought they have not truly killed it, simply sealed it away under some large structure to bury their problem for a century or two. We will all see.

    The Writhing Cosmos Master:

    Possible Consequences of the Abuse of Magical Forces:

    31: The aftermath of the second Awakening was a lesson to all inhabitants of the world, one that, for whatever reason, they have been almost totally unwilling to learn from. Knowledge of its causes are dubious, however we believe it to be uncontrolled magical experimentation and widespread abuse of warp energies that led to the almost total collapse of the barriers between our world and the other side, and subsequent awakening of much of the world’s population, who at that time around forty percent of which possessed some form of extrasensory ability, to the ability to reach into the warp and directly extract power, many of such individuals died out relatively quickly during a brief epidemic of daemonic possession, circa 1518.

    32: Not to say all psychic members of the population were granted this ability, it is by the grace of the gods that only a small number were, but those that remain today with these abilities, and those born with them, now exist purely as tools of the system, taken at birth to serve in the respective magical and military institutions of their nation, or as glorified radios allowing instant communication. It is only in the Eastern Plains and the Biome are they granted a measure of freedom, in the former case largely due to legal maneuverings and only granted nominal freedom, being monitored heavily. And in the biome, they are simply altered to suppress these abilities.

    33: The status of people with these powers in the East is lesser known, though presumably they are subject to equally rigorous regulation or simply killed out of hand, but what is known is even in the remotest regions of nekomatus, more and more have been born with command over magic than in any other period in history within the last decades, a symptom of the awakening no doubt.

    34: Other results of this awakening can be observed by anyone with eyes, the arrival of the monoliths mentioned in paragraph 20, possibly an act of the gods to curb the awakening, and rampaging daemons who, for a brief time between the two events, were no longer impeded by their propensity to fade into nothingness within minutes of arrival into our plane. Anyone unfortunate enough to be near a dungeon from which rampaging monsters emerged can attest to the awakening’s fallout as well, although so few survived such encounters.

    Xorju:

    Conclusion

    35: The total destruction of our society and our humanity (or an equivalent concept for your species) is, as stated throughout this essay, inevitable until we abandon magic, technology and democratic institutions determined to model our world after the governmental structure of New Sodom, the last cenobite city not yet to have been burned out of the jungles. Evidence of this abounds and we are clearly in the latter days of this process, as shown by the literal disappearance of rural villages and their people across the west and east, likely by a process of siren technology, but clearly for the end of suppressing voices of resistance, and simultaneously acquiring test-subjects to transfigure into what many believe to be human-alien hybrids, the so-called ‘endermen’. Certainly possible, although these beings lack any resemblance to sirens, but regardless of that fact it was the sudden depopulation of one such town that led the auther of this essay to mail a series of improvised explosive devices and cursed artifacts to high-ranking politiciansm and it will be the publication of this manifesto upon the front page of the Spartycan Tribune that will compel these bombings to cease.

    Epilogue:

    The half-elf activist placed the final page of his work upon a stack of papers beside him, satisfied with his work. He took out an alligator clip and bound the manifesto, before setting out to the post office in a nearby village. He deposited the manifesto, addressed to the Spartycan tribune, and some weeks later his demands would be met, with this mother’s testimony upon reading the manifesto having led to his arrest. Alas, his mother’s loyalty to her son was outweighed by the disgust that accompanied the realization that he was a Geocentrist. Regardless, the manifesto was widely read, and soon came into the hands of a boy living halfway across the world, in Titania, the so-called “Western Kingdom of the East” for its out-of-place cultural influences and architecture, but regardless, it had come to him years after its authorship via a trading vessel among a stack of unrelated newspapers, and in reading it, he found some bizarre correlations.

    “Hey mom?”

    His mother, looked up from her book, “Yes?”

    “Could we be part-alien?”

    “Are you reading that incoherent nonsense the westerners put out?”

    “Well, yes, but I’m serious.”

    “No child, it’s bad enough all the attention you get for being the descendent of Braelor himself, and the long line of heroic deeds our family has, and the fact that not one of our name has been unable to operate a vertical maneuvering rig without crashing into a wall-

    “It was one time!”

    “Was certainly embarrassing to our lineage, But aliens? Come on.”

    “I’m serious mom, how else do you explain this?”

    He raised his finger, from which green blood dripped due to a papercut he sustained while reading the manifesto, and burned a hole in the carpet.

    “Well now look what you’ve done. Do you have any idea how much that is going to cost to replace the carpet?”

    “Are you kidding me!?”




    Meanwhile




    rVHHJPGBF3P_okSdYhYwwJqpADWft0UNFNKuaxwGcnWKoc5RskVWxzj6U1r66QPxAvlSH-2jQUKemzdP-BB_xStN560i3XA5k-cCwPo5rNl2NN7P7h0Dz6vZJDxRWYlf9-PAtH4a

    (This but with twenty thrones and mac tonight instead of elf lady)


    Meanwhile, the gods were once again returned to their thrones, albeit with the notable absence of Ickol and Original, and the presence of a new god atop the throne of the Abomination. The others would recognize this as Dementia, the ancient god of Chaos, and he would find himself in a greatly changed hall, with digital displays on one side and a man with a moon for a head providing ambient music. That moon man read from the above manifesto, and had provided a copy for each of the gods on their thrones. Why? well none could be sure, that creature was always a strange one, but regardless, a feast of bland substances of dubious composition awaited them once more, as did the globe depicting a simultaneously chaotic and prospering world below. Dementia recalled this place, having seen it thousands of years in the past, and he recognized the other gods, who would in turn recognize him. What he would do next, however? Well, he was never the most predictable.

    Puppernickel Puppernickel

 
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Curiously, Ocaeril was not currently present in his throne today, which at this point, due to his own wishes and tampering around, has been changed to less of a throne and more of a really comfortable chair. A single note was on it, however. Depicting Ocaeril waving in a funny artstyle, waving at whoever was reading it, while this drawing also had him holding hands with a horned child with fox ears and a tail, who was also waving.

Break time and taking care of son, bother me later~!
...Huh. Looks like he's taking care of Shimone right now. Makes sense, he is still rather young, and nobody is home to take care of him aside from the three guardians of the world tree. Regardless, for once(?), Ocaeril was not present in the throne room that was the Hall of Gods.
 
Helsa Conversational



  • @Revan4221 | @BlackCat-055 | @Scrump_Diddle | @Stikes | @KolastoRPN | @The Void Ever Watching | @Selee-01 | @Churl | @Barbas | @Lolface390 | @Celestial Speck | @CutieBoop | @Gravitys Momentum | @Just_a_loneley_pilgrim | Puppernickel Puppernickel
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    GM UPDATE
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    Dawn of the New Year: 1550


    Somewhere, deep in the forests of the Spartycan coast, an old dilapidated cabin stood atop a small hill, covered by tree canopy. The song of birds masked the activities within, as any from the nearby village might tell you, this cabin housed an elven lad about sixty years of age. Young for his species, but regardless he bore a scraggly grey beard and gave off the energy of a hermit. Within the cabin, the man furiously banged on a typewriter, stacking pages he deemed appropriate and discarding those with any clear errors. It had to be perfect, as, after all, this would be the manifesto of the unknown criminal who had mailed cursed packages with the intent of causing grievous bodily harm to several people he suspected of being ickolic-doppleganger-alien-whispering hybrids. In the following he details his elaborate ideology. As of yet though, he hadn’t actually gotten down any of his important points.

    “Hmmm, how should I start this? Ah!”



    Andyrecas:


    Democratic Mago-Technological Society, and its Future.


    1: The advent of democratic government in the west and its consequences have been a disaster for the human races. It has certainly granted us a say in politics for those of us who live in “advanced” countries, but they have destabilized a once harmonious society, given way to mob rule, and offer even more power to shadowy groups of elites who control the media organizations throughout the western world, and uncontrolled immigration now threatens our once sacred way of life so that our leaders can continue to damage the natural world through expansion.

    2: In its current state, democratic society may survive, or it may break down. If it survives, it MAY be capable of fending off an invasion by the alien sirens that the government denies the existence of, and our culture MAY in time reassert itself over the inane multicultural gibberish being pushed by the shapeshifting elite, but only after passing through a long and painful process of internal strife and turmoil sure to reduce much of the population to a subhuman cattle-race in the care of the shapeshifters.

    3: The more of our world is brought into the fold of this false-notion of “enlightenment” that is being pushed, the more painful it will be on the whole when this system inevitably fails, or worse, should it not fail at all, it may give way to the annexation of our world by alien forces.


    Arceus:

    4: Evidence of the fact that this system is corrupt will be presented throughout this essay, where we will point out its societal issues such as historical revisionism, an example of which being an unwillingness to account for the spearian temples built across the world, indicating that advanced, global civilization is nothing new, and that it has risen and fallen before, along with tampering in traditional faiths such as the continued addition of new demigods to the arcean and tiamatic faiths. Accompanying this will be descriptions of physical threats created by this system, such as those that magical advancement, democracy, the alien forces that influence our minds and our dreams, and technology pose to the natural world and its people. At no point do we offer commentary on reform of this system, as we believe doing so to be impossible.

    5: Therefore, we advocate revolution against the first democratic nation before these ideas can spread across the world, rendering us all vulnerable to alien brainwashing. This does not necessitate violence, but something must be done to ensure that this so-called enlightenment is contained.

    Baldur:

    The Dangers of Modern Complacency

    6: In its current state, our democratic society is incapable of standing against growing threats outside of its borders that are becoming increasingly dynamic, the greatest example of which being the oft-ignored Underdark. Following the somewhat obscure event during the mid-1520s in which a comet-like object streaked across the sky, inducing strange variations in wildlife such as the emergence of the ‘pokerus’ virus and bizarre fused creatures aptly-called ‘fusion-beasts’ by the establishment before their extermination, it is believed that in some remote part of the east, by myself as well as many other concerned activists, that rodents have evolved into humanoid shape, developed sentience and migrated underground, where they have formed connections with the deep-dwelling vril empire, the catfolk, and possibly even the daemon-worshipping Aboleths. This newfound unity of the depths brings untold dangers to the decadent western cultures, as these uncucked societies will surely seek to expand.

    7: This may not necessarily be a military threat. The ratfolk are said to spread their culture into those nations they ally with, eroding their traditions with ‘exotic cuisine’ and other multicultural nonsense, and so it is entirely within the realm of possibility that our ‘democracy’ may willingly allow these aliens within our borders, wherein they will surely interbreed and violate the purity of culture and species, further weakening our collective strength for much greater threats to take hold, internal or external.

    8: Inseparable from this is the modern phenomena of UFOs. One might scoff at such an assertion but no sane professor, even in the corrupt democratic hellholes that are modern universities can deny the existence of such with a straight face, though they may be told to. Within the last thirty years, since the fall of the aforementioned comet, sightings of beings thusfar to be referred to as “Sirens”, alongside their sky-navigating vessels, have increased tenfold, along with allegations of an aggressive and radioactive ‘bigfoot’ stalking the western landmass. These beings are known to hold nothing but hostile intent as the research of profound UFOlogist Sir Doulton of Exodia has proven, and with all this in mind I am certain that, short of a total collapse of our complacent, elemental-dependent and possibly even collaborationalist society, we will not be able to build up a defense against these outsiders to our world.

    Diddly:

    The Psychology of Republicanism

    9: It is no secrets that our governments have, for centuries, been a disorganized, chaotic mess, yet today this is far more noticeable than any time before in history, and one symptom of this is the international movement we refer to as republicanism. Adherents to this ideology hope to quash remaining monarchies and emulate the first example of republicanism in practice, and what they see as a ‘model state’, the so-called united states of the eastern plains, an ineffectual remnant that founded the initial practice of “constitutional government”, supposedly serving as an inspiration for nations all across the western world to abandon authoritarianism and seek a fair and just system. Preposterous.

    10: Worse yet, such ideologies are actively endorsed by extra-ocaerillian forces, as can be easily surmised by the stone monoliths present throughout the eastern plains, clearly of sirenic design. Their appearance coincided with the mist-storm that neutralized most remaining acid pools and their presence has drawn otherwise enlightened primitivists to found villages in worship of these outside abominations, and as is widely known the diabolical blood-rituals of this cult will spread west, as their so-called ‘Aetherium’ stones that, contrary to their narrative of mining this miracle mineral is known to originate from mass-bloodletting ceremonies, the anemia of the populace is a clear indicator of this. Infant sacrifice is also widely suspected, but unproven.

    Helsa:

    Infiltration of the Mind

    11: Worse yet, even our inner thoughts are not safe from the constant barrage of propoganda our dreams in particular, countless of those of the psionic persuasion, which thanks to the filth they pour into our water and air now constitutes a fifth of greater humanity (The totality of demihuman races including their common ancestor), report visitation by heroes of the past, idealized and warped beyond their known history, and many of whom are of the opposite sex than historically known. This psychic interference is likely generated through top secret psychotronic weapons produced by the M&D cartel and being used to promote further “Progressive” revisionism, such as the dubious transvestitism of Silva of Titania and portrayal of the jade imperial line as one of disguised queens. Some wizards in institutions claimed to have summoned and bound the spirits of these figures to their service via the dreamlands! Preposterous, not so preposterous as the depressed dregs of society whose medications have not stopped them from reaching out and reporting psychic experiences in the throne of heroes itself, but preposterous nonetheless.

    Ickol:

    Additional Dangers of Historical Revisionism and False Flag Operations

    12: The defilement of history is evident all around us, case and point, our great nation of Spartycus, a state that, contrary to what we are told, did not wage a glorious conquest across the west in the name of god and with the aid of his anointed. In fact, short of a few decades ago, Spartycas did not even exist. Our nation, for all its patriotism, as proven by the testimony of the Court Mages cited in the bibliography, was only founded after a secretive unification agreement signed by remaining western powers after the war. Spartycas was the end result, and an elaborate false history was crafted, with the aid of alien technology used to fashion the so-called ‘demigods’ amidst its ranks..

    13: “War veterans” are paid actors, battles were reeinacted in the midst of cities, condemned criminals were covertly moved into cities before the ‘conquest’ to be executed as ‘casualties of war’. This is indisputable fact, unless one believes that every court mage in the west is owned, which I personally suspect is a false-flag assertion.

    Inqui:

    14: On the topic of false flag operations, the most significant of such has been not in the west, but in the eastern hemisphere of our world, as one will remember the meticulously staged assassination of General Chiyo by an international vigilante movement known in their own circles as the Anti Heroes, having close ties with other remaining anti-establishment communities. Having been framed for this act the total eradication of their movement was thereby justified.

    Modern Technology, Magic, and the Destruction of the Natural World:

    15: The continental fervor for rebuilding the corrupt infrastructure of the previous systems has been a tragic mistake of western man, specifically in the field of Magic, but technology as well. In the case of the former, the construction of international educational institutes in the west in the blind pursuit of magical power has led to the maddening and death of countless students whose gullible parents sent them off without thought after they demonstrate even the slightest talent in manipulating the winds.

    16: Of course, driven by pure secularism, they don’t particularly care. A few rural communities devoured by Daemons is of no consequence in the face of ‘Progress’. Even in fields of less destructive magic, such as biomancy and Chakral manipulation, they develop increasingly suspect methods that no nation which honored the harmony of magic, such as the Biome, would ever tolerate in ages past.

    17: With the central institutionalization of magic in place in the west, we now fear our future may resemble the current state of the defiled ancestors of the elves. Cenobites, a docile populace enslaved by their own vices and ruled by an addiction to physical pleasure at the expense of morality, ruled by an even more immoral elite, gratifying themselves through truly despicable means, and worshipping the eldritch gods of the cosmos while their citizens worship their own loins.

    Ocaeril:

    18: Technology is not as guilty as magic, as evident by the fact that magic has allowed for senseless destruction on a much larger scale, such as the awakening which blew several fresh holes in the firmament, but regardless it remains a portion of our society’s death knell, each advancement serving to restrict our innate nature. For example, rebuilt cities now revolve around the system of roads, the car now a mandatory possession for any living in what were once a pedestrian utopia.

    19: Power grids are being built once more, their reach expanded by imported kohonan technology and even the once anti-technology druids of the jungle call for further industrialization of our land! The development of modern irrigation has led to the destruction of countless acres of the rainforest to accommodate more farmland, which produces a surplus of food. Who doesn’t love more food? Ask the people of the Spartycan capital! The most densely populated city in the west now having a mass-exodus of its condensed population out of the cities and to the country.

    20: Why? An explosion in the world’s population caused by such a surplus of food, urge to replace the male population lost in wars, and modern medicine ensuring most children survive into adulthood. This increasing population has led to the exodus from cities into the country, which will in turn lead to more cities being built, which will lead to more people being born, which will lead us to create more farmland by cutting down more of the rainforest, which will in turn lead to even more people being born due to another surplus!

    21: Some erroneously call this an age of prosperity, and while quality of life may have objectively improved for some (Much as it did for the Cenobites at their dawn), the failure of most states to heed the ideals of those who first provided these technologies, that of the preservation of nature, as corrupted as it may have become in kohonan, Biomic and druidic cultures will inevitably lead to mass extinction of wildlife, the loss of our humanity, and the death of our natural world.

    Oen:

    The Siren Strategem

    22: This is, of course, all part of a greater plot by aliens. Note, when we refer to aliens, we are not referring to beings from other worlds. Any looking to the sky may note the writhing, betentacled abomination with a billion eyes that looms above the spheres and drives any whom’st beholds it to madness, save for myself, the author, of course. When referring to aliens, we refer to the popular conception of beings from other worlds, the tall, feminine creatures described as being like tattoo’d elves with inhuman eyes and who on average demonstrate capabilities outside the realm of possibility for a psyker of greater humanity. These beings, known popularly as Sirens, (not to be confused with the savage, all-female merfolk tribe known to attack members of other races for the purpose of mating and consumption in any given order, despite physical and biological similarities between the two) are believed by the writers of this work not to originate from outer space, which despite the beliefs of popular transmundanism, does not exist.

    23: Some might additionally assert that Sirens originate from another plane, however to refute this we refer to the Order of the Watch, a group of void-desert dwellers and rural folk made up in large part by the Scorpi Tribe, whose monoliths that they fervently protect will, should one without ill intent purchase themselves an audience, quite forcibly inform the viewer of the impenetrable nature of our plane by others. To substantiate this one need only look in the total disappearance of Fae from our world, and the long-term fluctuation of the magical realm effected by the rise of those monoliths, consistent failure of modern mediums and necromancers despite centuries of no trouble to contact the dead, and other such interference in planar maneuverings.

    24: More evidence can be found in dreams. Past generations bore no hardship recalling their experiences in the land of nod, yet today lest one right down their activities they will struggle to remember by noon. Certainly the barriers between our world and that of dreams, and indeed all other worlds, have hardened in the past century, and based on the monolith, by an act of the gods, who most certainly exist, mind you, but note that Sirens are more common on our world than ever before, and so I point to the Islands of Mundia and Acore, two small islands in the south central sea known for their bizarre natives and rock formations. The demihumans native to the island of acore were researched extensively by kohonan specialists, noting their custom of tatooing themselves from head-to-toe, pointing of their own teeth via stones, outright hostility toward male offspring and using biomancy to induce hermaphroditism in their population. The art of this culture depicts flying saucers and bizarre, furry humanoids, making influence by a more advanced culture clear.

    25: More pressing is the whirlpool on Mundia, into which the alcorians present sacrifices in the form of jewels and fruit. This whirlpool has never been explored due to the hazardous terrain of mundia requiring an expensive mountain climbing expedition, however we suspect it to be not a whirlpool at all, but a gateway into the inner world of Ocaeril, an “Under-Underdark”, if you will, wherein the Sirens reside, and possibly other beings, such as the furred humanoids, and the insectoids sighted after the incident in Camelot, wherein six abductees were burned to death in alleyways by unknown assailants.

    Original:

    26: Regarding Camelot, further evidence of their involvement in this conspiracy can be ascertained by looking at its supposedly immortal leader, but while the public may know this being as a demilich of some sort, we have become aware, through our sources (cited below) in the Biome we came to be aware of a synthetic duplicate of the aforementioned dictator, and although the existence of this clone is only suspected evidence would suggest that the “Immortal Queen of Camelot” is simply a dynasty of identical beings, possibly siren duplicates. Indeed, they have been here for a long time.

    Shapeshifting and Genetic Alteration

    27: Regarding identical beings, the possibility is in no way remote. In the now-liberated state of Larion, Changelings, albeit few in number since a number of carefully covered-up purges, walk openly on the streets, each capable of shifting form at will. Evidence of these beings having been artificially engineered in the past is plentiful, as is that in leaked spartycan documents that suggest above them exists a class of true shapeshifters, varying in description from faceless men to skeletal grey-skinned amphibians of a sort, who created and rule over changelings. ‘Dopplegangers’, as they are known in folklore, have never been proven to exist empirically, however anecdotal evidence is rampant, and the Biome’s acquisition of cytoplasts offering minor shapeshifting abilities following the annexation of larion. Not a mere coincidence, we believe.

    28: The previous paragraph served to illustrate that with modern magic and technology, the total alteration of one’s appearance or the fashioning of one person to resemble another is in no way beyond possibility, and we suspect it to be being conducted routinely by the elites. Imagine, any world leader acting against the goals of some shadowy organization might be abducted and covertly replaced, and the public would never be the wiser. Regardless of whether or not this is true, it is an undeniable fact that it is at least possible, and why would that be? The answer is simple. Western Modernity. Thus, to ensure such an elite cabal cannot exist, whether or not this Syndicate of shapeshifters already does (which we do not doubt in the slightest) our technology and magical knowledge must be forsaken for the benefit and continued survival of greater humanity.

    Tiamat:

    The Corruption of Traditional Faith

    29: With modern society defiling so many aspects of mankind’s nature (And that of its evolutionary cousins), it stands to reason that our traditional religions would be bent over and violated in the name of ‘progress’ as well. Religions that venerate nature especially seem to be a target of this, fertility cults and the children of the sea being an obvious case, with historical revisionism coming into play once more as church leaders worldwide alter their ancient lore to account for the addition of several new gods to their pantheon in contradiction of the origin story of their goddess, while simultaneously partaking in the corrupt “Progress” of westernism by transforming something as innocent as music (albeit with subliminal messaging technology it is far from innocent today) into yet another system of magic which draws upon deadly forces.

    30: With control of the weather in the hands of once-naturalistic peoples the rape of nature may continue unabated. With any farmer now able to call down rain at will with aid of a few folk priests a few scholars, even those of the modern society fear a possible runaway greenhouse effect due to excess moisture! But the cattle-populace doesn’t heed their words, ‘pretty music go brrrr’ they say. Leading the charge of these new developments are the Triton of all peoples, again a once noble race now enraptured in western progression following the apparent permanent destruction of the demon “Cygon” whose continued attacks on their society kept it stagnant for the last centuries, though according to transmundanist schools of thought they have not truly killed it, simply sealed it away under some large structure to bury their problem for a century or two. We will all see.

    The Writhing Cosmos Master:

    Possible Consequences of the Abuse of Magical Forces:

    31: The aftermath of the second Awakening was a lesson to all inhabitants of the world, one that, for whatever reason, they have been almost totally unwilling to learn from. Knowledge of its causes are dubious, however we believe it to be uncontrolled magical experimentation and widespread abuse of warp energies that led to the almost total collapse of the barriers between our world and the other side, and subsequent awakening of much of the world’s population, who at that time around forty percent of which possessed some form of extrasensory ability, to the ability to reach into the warp and directly extract power, many of such individuals died out relatively quickly during a brief epidemic of daemonic possession, circa 1518.

    32: Not to say all psychic members of the population were granted this ability, it is by the grace of the gods that only a small number were, but those that remain today with these abilities, and those born with them, now exist purely as tools of the system, taken at birth to serve in the respective magical and military institutions of their nation, or as glorified radios allowing instant communication. It is only in the Eastern Plains and the Biome are they granted a measure of freedom, in the former case largely due to legal maneuverings and only granted nominal freedom, being monitored heavily. And in the biome, they are simply altered to suppress these abilities.

    33: The status of people with these powers in the East is lesser known, though presumably they are subject to equally rigorous regulation or simply killed out of hand, but what is known is even in the remotest regions of nekomatus, more and more have been born with command over magic than in any other period in history within the last decades, a symptom of the awakening no doubt.

    34: Other results of this awakening can be observed by anyone with eyes, the arrival of the monoliths mentioned in paragraph 20, possibly an act of the gods to curb the awakening, and rampaging daemons who, for a brief time between the two events, were no longer impeded by their propensity to fade into nothingness within minutes of arrival into our plane. Anyone unfortunate enough to be near a dungeon from which rampaging monsters emerged can attest to the awakening’s fallout as well, although so few survived such encounters.

    Xorju:

    Conclusion

    35: The total destruction of our society and our humanity (or an equivalent concept for your species) is, as stated throughout this essay, inevitable until we abandon magic, technology and democratic institutions determined to model our world after the governmental structure of New Sodom, the last cenobite city not yet to have been burned out of the jungles. Evidence of this abounds and we are clearly in the latter days of this process, as shown by the literal disappearance of rural villages and their people across the west and east, likely by a process of siren technology, but clearly for the end of suppressing voices of resistance, and simultaneously acquiring test-subjects to transfigure into what many believe to be human-alien hybrids, the so-called ‘endermen’. Certainly possible, although these beings lack any resemblance to sirens, but regardless of that fact it was the sudden depopulation of one such town that led the auther of this essay to mail a series of improvised explosive devices and cursed artifacts to high-ranking politiciansm and it will be the publication of this manifesto upon the front page of the Spartycan Tribune that will compel these bombings to cease.

    Epilogue:

    The half-elf activist placed the final page of his work upon a stack of papers beside him, satisfied with his work. He took out an alligator clip and bound the manifesto, before setting out to the post office in a nearby village. He deposited the manifesto, addressed to the Spartycan tribune, and some weeks later his demands would be met, with this mother’s testimony upon reading the manifesto having led to his arrest. Alas, his mother’s loyalty to her son was outweighed by the disgust that accompanied the realization that he was a Geocentrist. Regardless, the manifesto was widely read, and soon came into the hands of a boy living halfway across the world, in Titania, the so-called “Western Kingdom of the East” for its out-of-place cultural influences and architecture, but regardless, it had come to him years after its authorship via a trading vessel among a stack of unrelated newspapers, and in reading it, he found some bizarre correlations.

    “Hey mom?”

    His mother, looked up from her book, “Yes?”

    “Could we be part-alien?”

    “Are you reading that incoherent nonsense the westerners put out?”

    “Well, yes, but I’m serious.”

    “No child, it’s bad enough all the attention you get for being the descendent of Braelor himself, and the long line of heroic deeds our family has, and the fact that not one of our name has been unable to operate a vertical maneuvering rig without crashing into a wall-

    “It was one time!”

    “Was certainly embarrassing to our lineage, But aliens? Come on.”

    “I’m serious mom, how else do you explain this?”

    He raised his finger, from which green blood dripped due to a papercut he sustained while reading the manifesto, and burned a hole in the carpet.

    “Well now look what you’ve done. Do you have any idea how much that is going to cost to replace the carpet?”

    “Are you kidding me!?”




    Meanwhile




    rVHHJPGBF3P_okSdYhYwwJqpADWft0UNFNKuaxwGcnWKoc5RskVWxzj6U1r66QPxAvlSH-2jQUKemzdP-BB_xStN560i3XA5k-cCwPo5rNl2NN7P7h0Dz6vZJDxRWYlf9-PAtH4a

    (This but with twenty thrones and mac tonight instead of elf lady)


    Meanwhile, the gods were once again returned to their thrones, albeit with the notable absence of Ickol and Original, and the presence of a new god atop the throne of the Abomination. The others would recognize this as Dementia, the ancient god of Chaos, and he would find himself in a greatly changed hall, with digital displays on one side and a man with a moon for a head providing ambient music. That moon man read from the above manifesto, and had provided a copy for each of the gods on their thrones. Why? well none could be sure, that creature was always a strange one, but regardless, a feast of bland substances of dubious composition awaited them once more, as did the globe depicting a simultaneously chaotic and prospering world below. Dementia recalled this place, having seen it thousands of years in the past, and he recognized the other gods, who would in turn recognize him. What he would do next, however? Well, he was never the most predictable.

    Puppernickel Puppernickel


Helsa seemed to be pretty quiet.

Okay, the presence of Heroic Spirits in the Dreamlands is pretty bad, especially with all the shit they've gotten into with those weird domes. And the fact that people are capable of summoning them now means that there's a lot more trouble with Inqui...but I can still fix this! Just need to disperse the domes, break the connection between the two, and everything will go back to normal without me having to tell Inqui anything. I can do that!

...I think.


Helsa continued to think to herself, making overly complicated plans to try and fix her mistake that would inevitably backfire.
 
Ickol casts an illusion over Original, to his eyes the already spinning world seems to rotate the opposite way, leaving him disoriented. It is in this woozy state that bright energy erupts from Ickol’s outstretched palm and seemingly stabs the hedgehog like a spear made of light.
DrA0iFKWwAE6nLm.jpg:large

Original was flung backward by the blast. Being illusory, it didn't blow a hole in his chest or anything, but he certainly seemed to feel it regardless. He was thrown a good few yards before crashing into the ground and exploding into pixels, which soon reformed in the air, a few yards above and behind ickol.

"Right back at'cha!"

[Imitation]

Original projected an identical beam of energy from his hand, aiming for Ickol's head. Unlike the illusory blast, this one was very real, it knocked her over and seemed to deal considerable damage, though she and original otherwise seemed evenly matched, if not for a small trickle of blood seeming to run down the side of her head. Were she to look, one of her antlers had been broken halfway up its length by the beam. Original continued to levitate overhead, smugly blowing out smoke rising from his finger.
Ickol:
================
========


Original The Character:
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
= = = =

Original's attack roll: 6

Original's defense roll: 1​
 
Eva Action 1


Eva looked over the planet, looking for a suitable person to bear the Eclipse Illuminae. Her eye lighted on the new king of Titania, King Yimer. For centuries, the power of the Coordinate had been dormant. Without it, Titania would stagnate with time. Yimer was suitably noble to bear the Illuminae responsibly, and Eva granted him the luminous orb.

Not only that, but she unlocked the power of the Coordinate, allowing Yimer to unite his nation beneath one banner. A temple was dedicated to the goddess, cattle regularly sacrificed to her, and Titania was advanced into a new era. With samples of the alien technology (carefully overseen by Eva herself) advanced airships were built. Exploratory expeditions were launched in search of the Monoliths, and the Order of the Watch became a fixture in their society.

Uninhabited islands were colonized, and armies of Titans and Servitors were utilized to destroy hostile Daemons and other monsters, and to back up the Titanian objectives of enlightening other nations. With vessels capable of passing through the Tower, they could outmaneuver Huskarr raids and similar hostility. The Eclipse Illuminae enhanced their power further, until they were nigh-unbeatable.

The ships took the shape of blades of bluish white crystals, sharp and beautiful. With the power of the Warhammer Titan, they were light and nearly indestructible by conventional means. The Titan forces were enhanced in numerous ways, some being armored in Titan crystal, others were made colossal in size, and some could use more advanced tactics at the direction of the Coordinate. Energy weapons proliferated amongst traditional ground forces, allowing the colonies to defend themselves from hostile forces. The Age of Titania had come.
 
Ocaeril, First Action.

Selee-01 Selee-01 | CutieBoop CutieBoop | BlackCat-055 BlackCat-055 | Space Buddha Space Buddha
Somewhere in the World Tree, a lonely child played all by himself.

"I'll be the greatest of them all, the greatest dreamer~..." Shimone Rey sung all by himself as he skipped stones across a small lake on the land that was his home. The boy had certainly grown as the years came by. No longer small and toddler now, puberty was slowly starting to hit him. While with this maturity came changes to his abilities, not much came from him as the years went by. Only a slightly bigger, less stuttery Shimone Rey.

The boy wore simple, modern clothes. Still attached to a blue hoodie that covered a portion of his head, only leaving enough out so people could see his yellow and blue eyes, followed with short, dark-blue hair. Grey shorts gave vision to weak legs, and small, colorful sneakers on his feet. A round pendant was around his neck, however. A gift from his mother- the Hero Illuminae, or...Something along those lines.

Skip, skip, skip.

With great skill, stones flew across the flat surface of the lake, skipping multiple times before gravity caused them to lose speed and inevitably sink down, reaching the bottom of the lake. He did it with great skill, his age considered. Maybe it was because of his status as a divine...Something. He frankly isn't sure. Although he wouldn't like to blame the simple ability to skip stones across a lake on his heritage, as difficult as it was for some people and kids who normally needed help.

...

Skip.

Another stone was thrown. This one skipped across the water once.

"--Ah." The boy paused, finally seemed to snap out of his trance as his skipping streak was stopped. His face didn't shift, keeping a neutral expression. Something stuck itself on his mind and caused his hand to twitch ever so slightly. That thought- people who needed help... It caused him to frown. A bitter taste on his mouth.

A careful hand went to grasp the pendant around his neck. The Hero Illuminae. An artifact created by his sister before his birth, who gave it to their mother in hopes she'd find a suitable user for it. It was a powerful artifact, capable of giving someone power, someone who was heroic. An artifact given to future heroes. People with great potential, mortal, or demigod. And- just a few years back, when he first met his sister, his mother gave it to him.

He knew deep down she was just giving him something that has no power when used by him- just to make him feel special. He wasn't a hero like sis was.

He remembers his reaction, surprise, realization, then a deep feeling of wanting to throw up, or simply wanting to explode. He tried to speak back against it, but he knew it wouldn't work. His mother would insist on him using it, say something about finding meaning, even though she knows he is literally the weakest of the Reys. And his sister...What was she thinking? Disappointment? Indifference? The Illuminae couldn't be used by gods. He wasn't one, but what if it didn't work anyway due to being the child of two? What if his mom gave away an artifact that could have been used by someone to...?

"...Nnngh."

There it is. That feeling of wanting to throw up again.

His hand let go of the artifact. It simply stood there, dangling from around his neck, as his hands were placed on his pockets. He wanted to go home. He hasn't found anything interesting today, and he promised dad to go back whenever he felt sick.

The trip to his house wasn't long. He never goes too far. He knows his father can find him anywhere due to his powers, but he didn't want to needlessly worry him. The door was open as it always was, and the house kept the same feeling it had in the past few years. A small, comfortable cabin in the woods with humble household objects and a connection to nature. Nothing crazy, just like his dad always wanted to.

"...I'm home."

"...Ah. Welcome home, son."

Unsurprisingly, his father was by the sofa reading a small book again. Dad rarely left home these days. Ever since he decided to take a break to take care of him, he was present more in the house. It was...Nice. It felt odd having someone by 24/7, though. Principally given how often his family is out in 'business...' Having the house not being empty was a good thing, but it certainly took a while to get used to it not being so.

"...I skipped some stones today. I saw some Magikarp swimming about. It was fun, they jump really high."

"Skipping stones again? Should I be worried you're going to start throwing boulders at other things in a few years~?"

Probably not, I'm not that strong, is what he wanted to say, but he already knew what his father was going to say in response if he said that. As such...

A smile appeared on his face, and he let out a little laugh, his hand scratching the back of his head. "
Nah, I don't wanna make a bad impression. Big sis would be disappointed by my first actions on the planet being throwing random stuff around, I bet." He said simply before his hand naturally made its way towards his pendant. "...Probably would make the pendant not work for sure, mom would be disappointed, I think." Or she'd just forget about it instantly. He's not really sure what'd be worse.

"It still hasn't activated? Hmm, I suppose it's natural, you're still a kid." Ocaeril spoke calmly, soon closing his book and getting himself up. "Still, a kid like you should be out and about the world playing with other kids. Skipping stones is always more fun when you're competing." Ocaeril winked, as Shimone simply looked away.

"...Too weird. I'm twice their age and I'd outlive them. That and I'd probably annoy them." I was never really good with strangers.

"...You're still on that, huh?" Ocaeril asked with a little sigh, patting his son on the head. "Y'know, it's not about saying goodbye, Shi. It's about the memories."

"...Yeah, I know. Sorry, dad. I'm just...I dunno, really. I like staying at home with you and drawing. And I don't think I'd like to...Forget them? If I'm immortal, then I think..."

...Ah, there he was. He was being grim again. It wasn't intentional. He didn't consider himself a grim person like a Cosmos Worshipper or other creatures like him, it was just the circumstances of his existence and upbringing were hard not to be self-aware about when it came to things like mortal friends. It was like a wall with a very small hole between him and humanity, and while he could and wanted to bring some people on his side of the hole...There'd be a lot of problems. Their friends, their families, and other friends he doesn't want to simply leave behind but knows he has to, due to balance on the number of immortals.

Ocaeril simply cut his thoughts off by petting him on the head again, gently caressing the child's hair. Shimone looked up slowly.

In Ocaeril's hands, stood a small device. It was alien to Shimone, and while he knew it was modern, he didn't know what it was. Behind it, a small circular hole stood, seals on it, likely so Shimone puts something on it.

"...Then maybe you should train your skills, first?"

The small device was handed over to Shimone, who held it gently. It wasn't an artifact like Eva's shield or her Illuminae. It was something much simpler, much more innocent.

"
What is...?" Shimone asked, but before he could reply, Ocaeril simply took the pendant out of his neck, the boy letting out a small 'ah-' from his mouth before his father attached the small object behind the circular shaped hole on the device, it suddenly lighting up. Pixels appeared and reflected themselves from Shimone's eyes, as in the small screen...An egg stood. Not a literal egg, but a pixelated one.

"It's something I created using my aspects of Evolution of Magic, Technology, and a bit of Space-Time as well, with a little hint of controlled entropy, and Porygons, and of course, spaceship parts!" Ocaeril explained, winking once more. "I don't really have a name for it...It's a really simple device. Inqui told me about things like these once, small, handheld devices to raise little artificial monsters. This one was made specifically for you, Shimone. So you could train your skills with taking care of people...And forming bonds with them."

...The boy stood quiet for a few, long seconds. The egg didn't move either on the small screen.

He wanted to ask why, but he knew the answer already. His dad wanted him to break out of his shell, like this little egg. It was so easy that even his child self could understand it. Yet he didn't know what to think of it. What should he even say? 'Thank you, dad?' 'I'll do my best?' 'I'm not that bad at talking with people...?'

...

"I...See." He simply said, taking note of the Illuminae acting as a battery of sorts for the device. There was something odd with it, although Shimone couldn't quite place his finger on it. It simply felt...More important than it actually was, some weird energies, maybe...? Hell, did dad really waste his powers like that to give him something...? Nnnghr...He better not disappoint him, then... "Hopefully I don't get too carried away with it, haha..." Shimone said, smiling, before looking at his dad. "Um...What's it called? The egg, I mean."

Ocaeril simply smiled. "Well, as I said, I don't have a name for it, but the file data is called Digi.mon."


A few weeks had passed since Shimone had gained the small device given to him. Shimone did everything the game instructed him to do. He cleaned the egg, heated it up, took care of it, but as weeks and months passed, the egg didn't hatch, which only left him with a sense of anxiety. He didn't want to approach his dad, but he didn't want to mess the egg up, either. As such, for months on end, whenever he had free time, he took care of the small egg to the best of his ability.

There was no progress or health back. He had no idea what he was doing. But he didn't quit it either, or took little time to take care of the egg. Whenever he had the chance, the small digital egg would get its share of love. Be that in bed, when everyone is sleeping, or when he is somewhere else. It was maybe a bit unhealthy to take so much care of a fake egg, but...

It made him feel...Happy.

Even currently, in the dead of night, instead of sleeping, he pressed buttons on the small device, taking care of the little egg, as he slowly booted the program up.




Initiating Digi.mon program

ERROR: File '.mon' contains highly unusual behavior from strange DIGITAL sources. Continue?


"...Huh?"

Y/N
Sweat came from Shimone as his heart skipped a beat. Did he break the game? The device wasn't heating up or anything of the sorts, but the Illuminae was glowing way too brightly...! The artifact only occasionally shined like this, but to shine it like this...?! It made the boy yelp, and drop the console on his bed, thankfully not making any noises.

. . .

Power surge detected. ERROR, confirmation forcefully accepted, would you like to cancel the pro--

Shimone!


A voice shot through the darkness, Shimone's heart started to beat faster. The wind felt colder of all of the sudden. The voice came from his console. It was high pitched and childish- just like his own. "W-What? Who's there? What's going on--?!"

The egg on the screen began to crack. Somewhere in reality, something was being formed by previously unused energy, yet energy used and associated with Porygons, and various other worlds. The egg was hatching, and it was giving birth to something.

DigiDestined found.

Partner Digi.mon found.

Please standby.


As Shimone's vision went white, he could see static and white noise all around him, as he felt himself falling, as he saw one last figure before he disappeared, and heard its voice, its small body looking back at him.

D5x0N1LWAAAVp-M.jpg


Shimone! Be my partner!!

On that day, as the egg Shimone so carefully and lovingly took care of hatched, a new world built on the base of the ancient and unused internet was born from his love and care- and he was transported to it.

The Digital World was born.


BlackCat-055 BlackCat-055
Somewhere in the Throne of Heroes, ten DigiDestined servants would find similar devices in their living quarters, only a few moments after the first DigiDestined was chosen, and much like him, they had a small device where they saw pixelated creatures on the device, that clearly seemed to like one of those 'Tomagachi' games the Owner of the Throne sometimes talked about in her pop media talk- regardless, it was clear this was a handheld game.


Nursery Rhyme could see a flamingo-like creature with a crown in her device, chirping happily at her.

Paul Bunyan could see a plant-like, girlish creature dancing at her, the device's pixels making their best to make her seem big.

Jack the Ripper could see an almost scarecrow-like figure, childish and laughing, with an ax stuck on its head.

Jeanne Alter Lily could see what almost appeared to be a human nun, twirling guns around on her fingers in simplistic animations.

EMIYA could see what appeared to be a reptile holding a gun, making a signal of respect to the hero of justice.

Kintoki could see what almost appeared to be a velociraptor, smiling and winking cooly at him.

Tamamo no Mae could see a nine-tailed rodent shooting electricity from its tails, rolling about.

Beni-Enma could see a small baby chick with a sword and a ponytail stuck on an egg, twirling its blade around.

Atilla the Nun could see something made out of stone, like some sort of golem, holding a small flower despite its buff stature.

Voyager One could see a small bear-like creature, wearing what almost seemed to be the skin of another animal over his own body, looking off into the screen quietly.

Whenever they tried to interact with it, a single command would appear on the screen with a small tune unique to each Servant holding each of their devices. It asked a very simple question they could answer Yes or No to.

Would you like to be my partner?
 
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Celestial Speck Celestial Speck

Eva Conversational Post

Eva walked into the house, dressed in the garb of Titanian Royalty. She’s been honored and feasted for days, and it had eventually grated on her. The Eldians were nice, she supposed, and the young King had seemed capable and charismatic. But her experiment was a risky one. Hopefully the Titanians would not be thrown out or attacked. If that happened, she would not hesitate to teach a permanent lesson.

She didn’t want it to come to that, though.

“Hello, Father! How are you?”
 
When Eva arrived by the house, instead of normally finding her father seeming calm and peaceful, occasionally reading a book or teaching Shimone some schoolwork, she would find Ocaeril rummaging through the house.

The man seemed a bit worried, although not distressed. Various doors were open, and he seemed to be stuck. Not literally, but his face showed that he wasn't being able to do something. There were clear worry and confusion there, but his emotions were still calm, not reaching some boiling point. Soon, however- his head turned around, as a forceful smile made his way towards as his face as he saw Eva. "Ah, Eva, welcome back home. I'm, uh, sorry for this. Have you seen your brother? I haven't found him in his room, and I'm not able to sense him anywhere."
 
When Eva arrived by the house, instead of normally finding her father seeming calm and peaceful, occasionally reading a book or teaching Shimone some schoolwork, she would find Ocaeril rummaging through the house.

The man seemed a bit worried, although not distressed. Various doors were open, and he seemed to be stuck. Not literally, but his face showed that he wasn't being able to do something. There were clear worry and confusion there, but his emotions were still calm, not reaching some boiling point. Soon, however- his head turned around, as a forceful smile made his way towards as his face as he saw Eva. "Ah, Eva, welcome back home. I'm, uh, sorry for this. Have you seen your brother? I haven't found him in his room, and I'm not able to sense him anywhere."
“I... have not. Where could he be, do you think?” Eva sent a message to the Tower, ordering it to search reality. A fragment of her power coalesced on the Throne at its summit, golden eyes scouring the world. Hopefully the Tower could detect her brother, and if not, indicate where to start the search.
 
Selee-01 Selee-01

Ocaeril Informational Post
Ocaeril scratched his chin. "I'm not really sure. He occasionally goes to the lake to skip stones, but I haven't seen him today. He generally doesn't go too far from home..." Ocaeril noted, saying info that was common knowledge to anyone who was close to Shimone, such as himself. But even despite this, there was a hint of doubt in his voice, like he wasn't too sure. "His powers are obviously developing, but I'm not sure if it's that..."

And when Eva used the Tower...After a decent amount of time and thankfully not detecting him in any dangerous place such as the Warp, Dreamlands, and whatnot, Eva and her tower would be able to find something.

Data.

Hundreds, upon thousands, upon millions, upon billions, upon trillions of encrypted data.

A seemingly infinite amount of pastes, code, and other extremely alien and complicated things she didn't understand presented itself to the tower. Strange names and coding were on it- alien to any creature from Ocaeril. Trying to break through the code and protection of this data would take long, and even with divine action, it would still take a considerable amount of time to even go through it. If Eva was doubtful of whether or not the Tower was malfunctioning somehow, it wasn't. All other searches lead to the same paste containing all that data.

A paste with the name of Network.
 
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Original was flung backward by the blast. Being illusory, it didn't blow a hole in his chest or anything, but he certainly seemed to feel it regardless. He was thrown a good few yards before crashing into the ground and exploding into pixels, which soon reformed in the air, a few yards above and behind ickol.

"Right back at'cha!"

[Imitation]

Original projected an identical beam of energy from his hand, aiming for Ickol's head. Unlike the illusory blast, this one was very real, it knocked her over and seemed to deal considerable damage, though she and original otherwise seemed evenly matched, if not for a small trickle of blood seeming to run down the side of her head. Were she to look, one of her antlers had been broken halfway up its length by the beam. Original continued to levitate overhead, smugly blowing out smoke rising from his finger.
Ickol:
================
========


Original The Character:
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
= = = =

Original's attack roll: 6

Original's defense roll: 1​
Ickol Confrontational

Ickol felt at her head and blinked. Okay, yeah, this bitch wasn’t walking out of here just a little roughed up. If he’s able to move for the next ten cycles, she’s not knocked him down hard enough.

That’s my line, dicktwitch.

[ANTHESIS]

The piece he broke off of Ickol’s antler disappears, before Original feels something wrong with his body. The piece he knocked off of Ickol is now growing on him, or, more accurately, into him. The bone construct crawls its way through his skull as it slowly attempts to reform to its original size. Needless to say, if not removed, that would not be ideal.
 
Dementia Conversational


  • @Revan4221 | @BlackCat-055 | @Scrump_Diddle | @Stikes | @KolastoRPN | @The Void Ever Watching | @Selee-01 | @Churl | @Barbas | @Lolface390 | @Celestial Speck | @CutieBoop | @Gravitys Momentum | @Just_a_loneley_pilgrim | Puppernickel Puppernickel
    _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
    GM UPDATE
    _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

    Dawn of the New Year: 1550


    Somewhere, deep in the forests of the Spartycan coast, an old dilapidated cabin stood atop a small hill, covered by tree canopy. The song of birds masked the activities within, as any from the nearby village might tell you, this cabin housed an elven lad about sixty years of age. Young for his species, but regardless he bore a scraggly grey beard and gave off the energy of a hermit. Within the cabin, the man furiously banged on a typewriter, stacking pages he deemed appropriate and discarding those with any clear errors. It had to be perfect, as, after all, this would be the manifesto of the unknown criminal who had mailed cursed packages with the intent of causing grievous bodily harm to several people he suspected of being ickolic-doppleganger-alien-whispering hybrids. In the following he details his elaborate ideology. As of yet though, he hadn’t actually gotten down any of his important points.

    “Hmmm, how should I start this? Ah!”



    Andyrecas:


    Democratic Mago-Technological Society, and its Future.


    1: The advent of democratic government in the west and its consequences have been a disaster for the human races. It has certainly granted us a say in politics for those of us who live in “advanced” countries, but they have destabilized a once harmonious society, given way to mob rule, and offer even more power to shadowy groups of elites who control the media organizations throughout the western world, and uncontrolled immigration now threatens our once sacred way of life so that our leaders can continue to damage the natural world through expansion.

    2: In its current state, democratic society may survive, or it may break down. If it survives, it MAY be capable of fending off an invasion by the alien sirens that the government denies the existence of, and our culture MAY in time reassert itself over the inane multicultural gibberish being pushed by the shapeshifting elite, but only after passing through a long and painful process of internal strife and turmoil sure to reduce much of the population to a subhuman cattle-race in the care of the shapeshifters.

    3: The more of our world is brought into the fold of this false-notion of “enlightenment” that is being pushed, the more painful it will be on the whole when this system inevitably fails, or worse, should it not fail at all, it may give way to the annexation of our world by alien forces.


    Arceus:

    4: Evidence of the fact that this system is corrupt will be presented throughout this essay, where we will point out its societal issues such as historical revisionism, an example of which being an unwillingness to account for the spearian temples built across the world, indicating that advanced, global civilization is nothing new, and that it has risen and fallen before, along with tampering in traditional faiths such as the continued addition of new demigods to the arcean and tiamatic faiths. Accompanying this will be descriptions of physical threats created by this system, such as those that magical advancement, democracy, the alien forces that influence our minds and our dreams, and technology pose to the natural world and its people. At no point do we offer commentary on reform of this system, as we believe doing so to be impossible.

    5: Therefore, we advocate revolution against the first democratic nation before these ideas can spread across the world, rendering us all vulnerable to alien brainwashing. This does not necessitate violence, but something must be done to ensure that this so-called enlightenment is contained.

    Baldur:

    The Dangers of Modern Complacency

    6: In its current state, our democratic society is incapable of standing against growing threats outside of its borders that are becoming increasingly dynamic, the greatest example of which being the oft-ignored Underdark. Following the somewhat obscure event during the mid-1520s in which a comet-like object streaked across the sky, inducing strange variations in wildlife such as the emergence of the ‘pokerus’ virus and bizarre fused creatures aptly-called ‘fusion-beasts’ by the establishment before their extermination, it is believed that in some remote part of the east, by myself as well as many other concerned activists, that rodents have evolved into humanoid shape, developed sentience and migrated underground, where they have formed connections with the deep-dwelling vril empire, the catfolk, and possibly even the daemon-worshipping Aboleths. This newfound unity of the depths brings untold dangers to the decadent western cultures, as these uncucked societies will surely seek to expand.

    7: This may not necessarily be a military threat. The ratfolk are said to spread their culture into those nations they ally with, eroding their traditions with ‘exotic cuisine’ and other multicultural nonsense, and so it is entirely within the realm of possibility that our ‘democracy’ may willingly allow these aliens within our borders, wherein they will surely interbreed and violate the purity of culture and species, further weakening our collective strength for much greater threats to take hold, internal or external.

    8: Inseparable from this is the modern phenomena of UFOs. One might scoff at such an assertion but no sane professor, even in the corrupt democratic hellholes that are modern universities can deny the existence of such with a straight face, though they may be told to. Within the last thirty years, since the fall of the aforementioned comet, sightings of beings thusfar to be referred to as “Sirens”, alongside their sky-navigating vessels, have increased tenfold, along with allegations of an aggressive and radioactive ‘bigfoot’ stalking the western landmass. These beings are known to hold nothing but hostile intent as the research of profound UFOlogist Sir Doulton of Exodia has proven, and with all this in mind I am certain that, short of a total collapse of our complacent, elemental-dependent and possibly even collaborationalist society, we will not be able to build up a defense against these outsiders to our world.

    Diddly:

    The Psychology of Republicanism

    9: It is no secrets that our governments have, for centuries, been a disorganized, chaotic mess, yet today this is far more noticeable than any time before in history, and one symptom of this is the international movement we refer to as republicanism. Adherents to this ideology hope to quash remaining monarchies and emulate the first example of republicanism in practice, and what they see as a ‘model state’, the so-called united states of the eastern plains, an ineffectual remnant that founded the initial practice of “constitutional government”, supposedly serving as an inspiration for nations all across the western world to abandon authoritarianism and seek a fair and just system. Preposterous.

    10: Worse yet, such ideologies are actively endorsed by extra-ocaerillian forces, as can be easily surmised by the stone monoliths present throughout the eastern plains, clearly of sirenic design. Their appearance coincided with the mist-storm that neutralized most remaining acid pools and their presence has drawn otherwise enlightened primitivists to found villages in worship of these outside abominations, and as is widely known the diabolical blood-rituals of this cult will spread west, as their so-called ‘Aetherium’ stones that, contrary to their narrative of mining this miracle mineral is known to originate from mass-bloodletting ceremonies, the anemia of the populace is a clear indicator of this. Infant sacrifice is also widely suspected, but unproven.

    Helsa:

    Infiltration of the Mind

    11: Worse yet, even our inner thoughts are not safe from the constant barrage of propoganda our dreams in particular, countless of those of the psionic persuasion, which thanks to the filth they pour into our water and air now constitutes a fifth of greater humanity (The totality of demihuman races including their common ancestor), report visitation by heroes of the past, idealized and warped beyond their known history, and many of whom are of the opposite sex than historically known. This psychic interference is likely generated through top secret psychotronic weapons produced by the M&D cartel and being used to promote further “Progressive” revisionism, such as the dubious transvestitism of Silva of Titania and portrayal of the jade imperial line as one of disguised queens. Some wizards in institutions claimed to have summoned and bound the spirits of these figures to their service via the dreamlands! Preposterous, not so preposterous as the depressed dregs of society whose medications have not stopped them from reaching out and reporting psychic experiences in the throne of heroes itself, but preposterous nonetheless.

    Ickol:

    Additional Dangers of Historical Revisionism and False Flag Operations

    12: The defilement of history is evident all around us, case and point, our great nation of Spartycus, a state that, contrary to what we are told, did not wage a glorious conquest across the west in the name of god and with the aid of his anointed. In fact, short of a few decades ago, Spartycas did not even exist. Our nation, for all its patriotism, as proven by the testimony of the Court Mages cited in the bibliography, was only founded after a secretive unification agreement signed by remaining western powers after the war. Spartycas was the end result, and an elaborate false history was crafted, with the aid of alien technology used to fashion the so-called ‘demigods’ amidst its ranks..

    13: “War veterans” are paid actors, battles were reeinacted in the midst of cities, condemned criminals were covertly moved into cities before the ‘conquest’ to be executed as ‘casualties of war’. This is indisputable fact, unless one believes that every court mage in the west is owned, which I personally suspect is a false-flag assertion.

    Inqui:

    14: On the topic of false flag operations, the most significant of such has been not in the west, but in the eastern hemisphere of our world, as one will remember the meticulously staged assassination of General Chiyo by an international vigilante movement known in their own circles as the Anti Heroes, having close ties with other remaining anti-establishment communities. Having been framed for this act the total eradication of their movement was thereby justified.

    Modern Technology, Magic, and the Destruction of the Natural World:

    15: The continental fervor for rebuilding the corrupt infrastructure of the previous systems has been a tragic mistake of western man, specifically in the field of Magic, but technology as well. In the case of the former, the construction of international educational institutes in the west in the blind pursuit of magical power has led to the maddening and death of countless students whose gullible parents sent them off without thought after they demonstrate even the slightest talent in manipulating the winds.

    16: Of course, driven by pure secularism, they don’t particularly care. A few rural communities devoured by Daemons is of no consequence in the face of ‘Progress’. Even in fields of less destructive magic, such as biomancy and Chakral manipulation, they develop increasingly suspect methods that no nation which honored the harmony of magic, such as the Biome, would ever tolerate in ages past.

    17: With the central institutionalization of magic in place in the west, we now fear our future may resemble the current state of the defiled ancestors of the elves. Cenobites, a docile populace enslaved by their own vices and ruled by an addiction to physical pleasure at the expense of morality, ruled by an even more immoral elite, gratifying themselves through truly despicable means, and worshipping the eldritch gods of the cosmos while their citizens worship their own loins.

    Ocaeril:

    18: Technology is not as guilty as magic, as evident by the fact that magic has allowed for senseless destruction on a much larger scale, such as the awakening which blew several fresh holes in the firmament, but regardless it remains a portion of our society’s death knell, each advancement serving to restrict our innate nature. For example, rebuilt cities now revolve around the system of roads, the car now a mandatory possession for any living in what were once a pedestrian utopia.

    19: Power grids are being built once more, their reach expanded by imported kohonan technology and even the once anti-technology druids of the jungle call for further industrialization of our land! The development of modern irrigation has led to the destruction of countless acres of the rainforest to accommodate more farmland, which produces a surplus of food. Who doesn’t love more food? Ask the people of the Spartycan capital! The most densely populated city in the west now having a mass-exodus of its condensed population out of the cities and to the country.

    20: Why? An explosion in the world’s population caused by such a surplus of food, urge to replace the male population lost in wars, and modern medicine ensuring most children survive into adulthood. This increasing population has led to the exodus from cities into the country, which will in turn lead to more cities being built, which will lead to more people being born, which will lead us to create more farmland by cutting down more of the rainforest, which will in turn lead to even more people being born due to another surplus!

    21: Some erroneously call this an age of prosperity, and while quality of life may have objectively improved for some (Much as it did for the Cenobites at their dawn), the failure of most states to heed the ideals of those who first provided these technologies, that of the preservation of nature, as corrupted as it may have become in kohonan, Biomic and druidic cultures will inevitably lead to mass extinction of wildlife, the loss of our humanity, and the death of our natural world.

    Oen:

    The Siren Strategem

    22: This is, of course, all part of a greater plot by aliens. Note, when we refer to aliens, we are not referring to beings from other worlds. Any looking to the sky may note the writhing, betentacled abomination with a billion eyes that looms above the spheres and drives any whom’st beholds it to madness, save for myself, the author, of course. When referring to aliens, we refer to the popular conception of beings from other worlds, the tall, feminine creatures described as being like tattoo’d elves with inhuman eyes and who on average demonstrate capabilities outside the realm of possibility for a psyker of greater humanity. These beings, known popularly as Sirens, (not to be confused with the savage, all-female merfolk tribe known to attack members of other races for the purpose of mating and consumption in any given order, despite physical and biological similarities between the two) are believed by the writers of this work not to originate from outer space, which despite the beliefs of popular transmundanism, does not exist.

    23: Some might additionally assert that Sirens originate from another plane, however to refute this we refer to the Order of the Watch, a group of void-desert dwellers and rural folk made up in large part by the Scorpi Tribe, whose monoliths that they fervently protect will, should one without ill intent purchase themselves an audience, quite forcibly inform the viewer of the impenetrable nature of our plane by others. To substantiate this one need only look in the total disappearance of Fae from our world, and the long-term fluctuation of the magical realm effected by the rise of those monoliths, consistent failure of modern mediums and necromancers despite centuries of no trouble to contact the dead, and other such interference in planar maneuverings.

    24: More evidence can be found in dreams. Past generations bore no hardship recalling their experiences in the land of nod, yet today lest one right down their activities they will struggle to remember by noon. Certainly the barriers between our world and that of dreams, and indeed all other worlds, have hardened in the past century, and based on the monolith, by an act of the gods, who most certainly exist, mind you, but note that Sirens are more common on our world than ever before, and so I point to the Islands of Mundia and Acore, two small islands in the south central sea known for their bizarre natives and rock formations. The demihumans native to the island of acore were researched extensively by kohonan specialists, noting their custom of tatooing themselves from head-to-toe, pointing of their own teeth via stones, outright hostility toward male offspring and using biomancy to induce hermaphroditism in their population. The art of this culture depicts flying saucers and bizarre, furry humanoids, making influence by a more advanced culture clear.

    25: More pressing is the whirlpool on Mundia, into which the alcorians present sacrifices in the form of jewels and fruit. This whirlpool has never been explored due to the hazardous terrain of mundia requiring an expensive mountain climbing expedition, however we suspect it to be not a whirlpool at all, but a gateway into the inner world of Ocaeril, an “Under-Underdark”, if you will, wherein the Sirens reside, and possibly other beings, such as the furred humanoids, and the insectoids sighted after the incident in Camelot, wherein six abductees were burned to death in alleyways by unknown assailants.

    Original:

    26: Regarding Camelot, further evidence of their involvement in this conspiracy can be ascertained by looking at its supposedly immortal leader, but while the public may know this being as a demilich of some sort, we have become aware, through our sources (cited below) in the Biome we came to be aware of a synthetic duplicate of the aforementioned dictator, and although the existence of this clone is only suspected evidence would suggest that the “Immortal Queen of Camelot” is simply a dynasty of identical beings, possibly siren duplicates. Indeed, they have been here for a long time.

    Shapeshifting and Genetic Alteration

    27: Regarding identical beings, the possibility is in no way remote. In the now-liberated state of Larion, Changelings, albeit few in number since a number of carefully covered-up purges, walk openly on the streets, each capable of shifting form at will. Evidence of these beings having been artificially engineered in the past is plentiful, as is that in leaked spartycan documents that suggest above them exists a class of true shapeshifters, varying in description from faceless men to skeletal grey-skinned amphibians of a sort, who created and rule over changelings. ‘Dopplegangers’, as they are known in folklore, have never been proven to exist empirically, however anecdotal evidence is rampant, and the Biome’s acquisition of cytoplasts offering minor shapeshifting abilities following the annexation of larion. Not a mere coincidence, we believe.

    28: The previous paragraph served to illustrate that with modern magic and technology, the total alteration of one’s appearance or the fashioning of one person to resemble another is in no way beyond possibility, and we suspect it to be being conducted routinely by the elites. Imagine, any world leader acting against the goals of some shadowy organization might be abducted and covertly replaced, and the public would never be the wiser. Regardless of whether or not this is true, it is an undeniable fact that it is at least possible, and why would that be? The answer is simple. Western Modernity. Thus, to ensure such an elite cabal cannot exist, whether or not this Syndicate of shapeshifters already does (which we do not doubt in the slightest) our technology and magical knowledge must be forsaken for the benefit and continued survival of greater humanity.

    Tiamat:

    The Corruption of Traditional Faith

    29: With modern society defiling so many aspects of mankind’s nature (And that of its evolutionary cousins), it stands to reason that our traditional religions would be bent over and violated in the name of ‘progress’ as well. Religions that venerate nature especially seem to be a target of this, fertility cults and the children of the sea being an obvious case, with historical revisionism coming into play once more as church leaders worldwide alter their ancient lore to account for the addition of several new gods to their pantheon in contradiction of the origin story of their goddess, while simultaneously partaking in the corrupt “Progress” of westernism by transforming something as innocent as music (albeit with subliminal messaging technology it is far from innocent today) into yet another system of magic which draws upon deadly forces.

    30: With control of the weather in the hands of once-naturalistic peoples the rape of nature may continue unabated. With any farmer now able to call down rain at will with aid of a few folk priests a few scholars, even those of the modern society fear a possible runaway greenhouse effect due to excess moisture! But the cattle-populace doesn’t heed their words, ‘pretty music go brrrr’ they say. Leading the charge of these new developments are the Triton of all peoples, again a once noble race now enraptured in western progression following the apparent permanent destruction of the demon “Cygon” whose continued attacks on their society kept it stagnant for the last centuries, though according to transmundanist schools of thought they have not truly killed it, simply sealed it away under some large structure to bury their problem for a century or two. We will all see.

    The Writhing Cosmos Master:

    Possible Consequences of the Abuse of Magical Forces:

    31: The aftermath of the second Awakening was a lesson to all inhabitants of the world, one that, for whatever reason, they have been almost totally unwilling to learn from. Knowledge of its causes are dubious, however we believe it to be uncontrolled magical experimentation and widespread abuse of warp energies that led to the almost total collapse of the barriers between our world and the other side, and subsequent awakening of much of the world’s population, who at that time around forty percent of which possessed some form of extrasensory ability, to the ability to reach into the warp and directly extract power, many of such individuals died out relatively quickly during a brief epidemic of daemonic possession, circa 1518.

    32: Not to say all psychic members of the population were granted this ability, it is by the grace of the gods that only a small number were, but those that remain today with these abilities, and those born with them, now exist purely as tools of the system, taken at birth to serve in the respective magical and military institutions of their nation, or as glorified radios allowing instant communication. It is only in the Eastern Plains and the Biome are they granted a measure of freedom, in the former case largely due to legal maneuverings and only granted nominal freedom, being monitored heavily. And in the biome, they are simply altered to suppress these abilities.

    33: The status of people with these powers in the East is lesser known, though presumably they are subject to equally rigorous regulation or simply killed out of hand, but what is known is even in the remotest regions of nekomatus, more and more have been born with command over magic than in any other period in history within the last decades, a symptom of the awakening no doubt.

    34: Other results of this awakening can be observed by anyone with eyes, the arrival of the monoliths mentioned in paragraph 20, possibly an act of the gods to curb the awakening, and rampaging daemons who, for a brief time between the two events, were no longer impeded by their propensity to fade into nothingness within minutes of arrival into our plane. Anyone unfortunate enough to be near a dungeon from which rampaging monsters emerged can attest to the awakening’s fallout as well, although so few survived such encounters.

    Xorju:

    Conclusion

    35: The total destruction of our society and our humanity (or an equivalent concept for your species) is, as stated throughout this essay, inevitable until we abandon magic, technology and democratic institutions determined to model our world after the governmental structure of New Sodom, the last cenobite city not yet to have been burned out of the jungles. Evidence of this abounds and we are clearly in the latter days of this process, as shown by the literal disappearance of rural villages and their people across the west and east, likely by a process of siren technology, but clearly for the end of suppressing voices of resistance, and simultaneously acquiring test-subjects to transfigure into what many believe to be human-alien hybrids, the so-called ‘endermen’. Certainly possible, although these beings lack any resemblance to sirens, but regardless of that fact it was the sudden depopulation of one such town that led the auther of this essay to mail a series of improvised explosive devices and cursed artifacts to high-ranking politiciansm and it will be the publication of this manifesto upon the front page of the Spartycan Tribune that will compel these bombings to cease.

    Epilogue:

    The half-elf activist placed the final page of his work upon a stack of papers beside him, satisfied with his work. He took out an alligator clip and bound the manifesto, before setting out to the post office in a nearby village. He deposited the manifesto, addressed to the Spartycan tribune, and some weeks later his demands would be met, with this mother’s testimony upon reading the manifesto having led to his arrest. Alas, his mother’s loyalty to her son was outweighed by the disgust that accompanied the realization that he was a Geocentrist. Regardless, the manifesto was widely read, and soon came into the hands of a boy living halfway across the world, in Titania, the so-called “Western Kingdom of the East” for its out-of-place cultural influences and architecture, but regardless, it had come to him years after its authorship via a trading vessel among a stack of unrelated newspapers, and in reading it, he found some bizarre correlations.

    “Hey mom?”

    His mother, looked up from her book, “Yes?”

    “Could we be part-alien?”

    “Are you reading that incoherent nonsense the westerners put out?”

    “Well, yes, but I’m serious.”

    “No child, it’s bad enough all the attention you get for being the descendent of Braelor himself, and the long line of heroic deeds our family has, and the fact that not one of our name has been unable to operate a vertical maneuvering rig without crashing into a wall-

    “It was one time!”

    “Was certainly embarrassing to our lineage, But aliens? Come on.”

    “I’m serious mom, how else do you explain this?”

    He raised his finger, from which green blood dripped due to a papercut he sustained while reading the manifesto, and burned a hole in the carpet.

    “Well now look what you’ve done. Do you have any idea how much that is going to cost to replace the carpet?”

    “Are you kidding me!?”




    Meanwhile




    rVHHJPGBF3P_okSdYhYwwJqpADWft0UNFNKuaxwGcnWKoc5RskVWxzj6U1r66QPxAvlSH-2jQUKemzdP-BB_xStN560i3XA5k-cCwPo5rNl2NN7P7h0Dz6vZJDxRWYlf9-PAtH4a

    (This but with twenty thrones and mac tonight instead of elf lady)


    Meanwhile, the gods were once again returned to their thrones, albeit with the notable absence of Ickol and Original, and the presence of a new god atop the throne of the Abomination. The others would recognize this as Dementia, the ancient god of Chaos, and he would find himself in a greatly changed hall, with digital displays on one side and a man with a moon for a head providing ambient music. That moon man read from the above manifesto, and had provided a copy for each of the gods on their thrones. Why? well none could be sure, that creature was always a strange one, but regardless, a feast of bland substances of dubious composition awaited them once more, as did the globe depicting a simultaneously chaotic and prospering world below. Dementia recalled this place, having seen it thousands of years in the past, and he recognized the other gods, who would in turn recognize him. What he would do next, however? Well, he was never the most predictable.

    Puppernickel Puppernickel

Dementia quietly listened to the odd individual with the moon motif read the manifesto, and uncharacteristic calm about him as he lounged in his chair. He read along with his own copy of the paper, frowning in thought as he contemplated what was written. It was obvious that the letter was written by someone with questionable mental stability, he should know after all. Still, it was an interesting read into the psych of mortals nowadays, even if only into the extremes of their minds.

As the moon man continued, he allowed his thoughts to drift to other topics and things, such as the last time he had been in this hall. He could recall with perfect and vivid memory how he had left the other gods, and it had been screaming at the top of his lungs about the immorality of chocolate ice cream. He didnt quite remember why he was calling chocolate ice cream immoral- oh wait, he remembered now.

Grimacing at the memory, Dementia looked up from his paper at around the time the moon headed man finished. He stared calmly at the other gods arrayed at the table, his eyes unblinking as he watched them. Seeing Ocaeril absent caused him to raise an eyebrow, but he wasnt worried due to the letter located at Ocaeril's chair. His frankly rather comfy looking chair. Shaking his head in slight envy, Dementia grabbed a drink from in front of him, sniffed it, and frowned. Shapeshifting his tastebuds, he made the taste of the drink a much more delectable flavor to him, and took an appreciative sip. "Ah, much better." He muttered to himself, returning to staring at the other gods.

Especially at Helsa. Helsa was obviously thinking. The Corrupter was thinking. The last time Dementia remembered that happening, she had been doing her best to cause murder and destruction in her wake. He was seriously debating whether to intervene and talk with her. Catch up on old times, maybe convince her that he was on her side and then betray her later if she proved... uncooperative.

As he contemplated the many ways he could betray the Corrupter, Dementia stared unblinkingly at Helsa, quietly sipping from his cup as he slowly drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. It was rather unusual to see him sit still this long, but then, no one had seen him in well over several thousand years. A lot can change in a being, even a god, given time.

KolastoRPN KolastoRPN
 
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  • Ickol Confrontational

    Ickol felt at her head and blinked. Okay, yeah, this bitch wasn’t walking out of here just a little roughed up. If he’s able to move for the next ten cycles, she’s not knocked him down hard enough.

    That’s my line, dicktwitch.

    [ANTHESIS]

    The piece he broke off of Ickol’s antler disappears, before Original feels something wrong with his body. The piece he knocked off of Ickol is now growing on him, or, more accurately, into him. The bone construct crawls its way through his skull as it slowly attempts to reform to its original size. Needless to say, if not removed, that would not be ideal.

    Her attack seems effective, as Original proves unable to attack due to the pain and repeatedly teleports around in an attempt to free himself from the perceived parasitic infestation. Eventually he does free himself as his body seems to evaporate into nothingness, replaced by five identical clones. Identifying the real original may prove to be a challenge, as the ichor-soaked horn now lays on the ground in between them all.

    Ickol:
    ================
    ========


    Original The Character:
    = = = = = = = = = = =
    = = = = = = = = =


    Clone #1
    =
    Clone #2
    =
    Clone #3
    =
    Clone #4
    =



    Original's attack roll: 4

    Original's defense roll: 1

 
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Helsa Conversational

Dementia Conversational

Dementia quietly listened to the odd individual with the moon motif read the manifesto, and uncharacteristic calm about him as he lounged in his chair. He read along with his own copy of the paper, frowning in thought as he contemplated what was written. It was obvious that the letter was written by someone with questionable mental stability, he should know after all. Still, it was an interesting read into the psych of mortals nowadays, even if only into the extremes of their minds.

As the moon man continued, he allowed his thoughts to drift to other topics and things, such as the last time he had been in this hall. He could recall with perfect and vivid memory how he had left the other gods, and it had been screaming at the top of his lungs about the immorality of chocolate ice cream. He didnt quite remember why he was calling chocolate ice cream immoral- oh wait, he remembered now.

Grimacing at the memory, Dementia looked up from his paper at around the time the moon headed man finished. He stared calmly at the other gods arrayed at the table, his eyes unblinking as he watched them. Seeing Ocaeril absent caused him to raise an eyebrow, but he wasnt worried due to the letter located at Ocaeril's chair. His frankly rather comfy looking chair. Shaking his head in slight envy, Dementia grabbed a drink from in front of him, sniffed it, and frowned. Shapeshifting his tastebuds, he made the taste of the drink a much more delectable flavor to him, and took an appreciative sip. "Ah, much better." He muttered to himself, returning to staring at the other gods.

Especially at Helsa. Helsa was obviously thinking. The Corrupter was thinking. The last time Dementia remembered that happening, she had been doing her best to cause murder and destruction in her wake. He was seriously debating whether to intervene and talk with her. Catch up on old times, maybe convince her that he was on her side and then betray her later if she proved... uncooperative.

As he contemplated the many ways he could betray the Corrupter, Dementia stared unblinkingly at Helsa, quietly sipping from his cup as he slowly drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. It was rather unusual to see him sit still this long, but then, no one had seen him in well over several thousand years. A lot can change in a being, even a god, given time.

KolastoRPN KolastoRPN

The Corruptor, still making plans in her head, noticed Dementia staring at her and proceeded to be creeped out.

...why is he staring at me? He's not even blinking...he's just staring...

Helsa proceeded to be even more creeped out, and looked away.

...shit, I can feel his eyes on my head...Go away go away go away go away.
 
Dementia Conversationl
Helsa Conversational



The Corruptor, still making plans in her head, noticed Dementia staring at her and proceeded to be creeped out.

...why is he staring at me? He's not even blinking...he's just staring...

Helsa proceeded to be even more creeped out, and looked away.

...shit, I can feel his eyes on my head...Go away go away go away go away.
Dementia tilted his head as he saw Helsa notice him, and noticed her freaked out reaction. Deciding it was time to reintroduce himself to the other gods, he snapped his fingers. An illusionary image of a miniature Dementia appeared on the table, saluting the real Dementia before heading off, marching across the table towards Helsa's seat.

Upon reaching Helsa, the MiniDementia stopped, grinning up at her and bowing deeply. "Ah, Helsa, so good to see you again!" The illusion said in a high pitched squeaky voice. "Been a while hasn't it? Tell me, ole gal, done any acts of pure carnage recently that I just must hear about, or have you been resting those evil muscles of yours like I suggested? Or did I suggest that? I cant recall." He hummed loudly, stroking his chin in thought as he tilted his head. He watched her intently out of the corner of his eye as he pretended to contemplate, looking for even the slightest of reactions to his words.
 


Her attack seems effective, as Original proves unable to attack due to the pain and repeatedly teleports around in an attempt to free himself from the perceived parasitic infestation. Eventually he does free himself as his body seems to evaporate into nothingness, replaced by five identical clones. Identifying the real original may prove to be a challenge, as the ichor-soaked horn now lays on the ground in between them all.

Ickol:
================
========


Original The Character:
= = = = = = = = = = =
= = = = = = = = =


Clone #1
=
Clone #2
=
Clone #3
=
Clone #4
=



Original's attack roll: 4

Original's defense roll: 1

Ickol Confrontational

Clapping her hands together, an illusion of a rain of swords appears over the area, and she feeds it with her sphere to inflict the pain and force her opponents to attempt to concentrate through the pain to dispel the wounds before they take. While she knows the original Original (dear gods that’s unfortunate) will be able to do so with minimal damage, she hopes the others, as imitations, are either made of weaker stiff, or more likely to accidentally give away who the true one is.
 
Helsa Conversational

Dementia Conversationl

Dementia tilted his head as he saw Helsa notice him, and noticed her freaked out reaction. Deciding it was time to reintroduce himself to the other gods, he snapped his fingers. An illusionary image of a miniature Dementia appeared on the table, saluting the real Dementia before heading off, marching across the table towards Helsa's seat.

Upon reaching Helsa, the MiniDementia stopped, grinning up at her and bowing deeply. "Ah, Helsa, so good to see you again!" The illusion said in a high pitched squeaky voice. "Been a while hasn't it? Tell me, ole gal, done any acts of pure carnage recently that I just must hear about, or have you been resting those evil muscles of yours like I suggested? Or did I suggest that? I cant recall." He hummed loudly, stroking his chin in thought as he tilted his head. He watched her intently out of the corner of his eye as he pretended to contemplate, looking for even the slightest of reactions to his words.

Helsa merely stared at him. She has no idea what the heck he was talking about or who he even is. And, as such, she decided to respond to him in a very specific way.

See, while Helsa hadn't done much beyond planning to try and fix the incident she caused, she had come to a realization. One that would define who she would be far into the future.

She's a bitch, and she's always going to be a bitch, especially to anyone that isn't Inqui or Ocaeril. And in this situation, she was definitely about to be a bitch.

Giving her most disdainful expression, she said. "I have no idea who you are. And even if I did, I would not associate with you."

And thus, she proceeded to somehow flick the tiny illusion of Dementia away.
 
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Dementia Conversational
Helsa Conversational



Helsa merely stared at him. She has no idea what the heck he was talking about or who he even is. And, as such, she decided to respond to him in a very specific way.

See, while Helsa hadn't done much beyond planning to try and fix the incident she caused, she had come to a realization. One that would define who she would be far into the future.

She's a bitch, and she's always going to be a bitch, especially to anyone that isn't Inqui or Ocaeril. And in this situation, she was definitely about to be a bitch.

Giving her most disdainful expression, she said. "I have no idea who you are. And even if I did, I would not associate with you."

And thus, she proceeded to somehow flick the tiny illusion of Dementia away.
Dementia continued to contemplate life right up until Helsa spoke at least. When she said she didn't recognize him, Dementia blinked and gave her an incredulous expression. "What? Dont re-" He managed to get out before she flicked him.

While normally her hand would have fazed right through the illusion, Dementia's were special. Particularly in the fact that he controlled them for his amusement, and would often manipulate them to act as if they were real. Thus, instead of Helsa's hand passing through the fake image, the image was 'hit', tumbling head over heels across the table and stopping in a dish of half-decent mashed potatoes with a side of lukewarm gravy.

Dementia, the real one sitting at his seat, silently contemplated Helsa's reaction. It was about what he expected, but... something was missing. Something that was there before. And she'd forgotten him? Sure, it had been over a thousand year, but was that any reason to forget about one of the most obscure and nonsensical individuals in the room?... okay, when he worded it like that, it made sense. But still.

The image stood up, frowning lightly as it whipped potato and gravy off of its head, then promptly waltzed across the length of the table to stand before Helsa again. "Excuse me, did you just say you didnt recognize moi?" Dementia asked her with a pouty expression, shaking his head. "Why Helsa, I'm hurt! Truly, unbearably hurt! Dont you remember the time I buried you in cotton candy, or took your hell hounds and dyed them all bright purple instead of those drab darker colors? Dont you remember good ole Demy, the one whom everyone ignored as he simply cleaned up everyone else's messes, collecting them for good ole Icky to destroy?"

He frowned deeply, faked hurt clear on his face as he let out a melodramatic sigh. One hand was resting on his forehead in despair, both eyes closed as he stood there, completely still on the table in front of Helsa.
 
Helsa Conversational

Dementia Conversational

Dementia continued to contemplate life right up until Helsa spoke at least. When she said she didn't recognize him, Dementia blinked and gave her an incredulous expression. "What? Dont re-" He managed to get out before she flicked him.

While normally her hand would have fazed right through the illusion, Dementia's were special. Particularly in the fact that he controlled them for his amusement, and would often manipulate them to act as if they were real. Thus, instead of Helsa's hand passing through the fake image, the image was 'hit', tumbling head over heels across the table and stopping in a dish of half-decent mashed potatoes with a side of lukewarm gravy.

Dementia, the real one sitting at his seat, silently contemplated Helsa's reaction. It was about what he expected, but... something was missing. Something that was there before. And she'd forgotten him? Sure, it had been over a thousand year, but was that any reason to forget about one of the most obscure and nonsensical individuals in the room?... okay, when he worded it like that, it made sense. But still.

The image stood up, frowning lightly as it whipped potato and gravy off of its head, then promptly waltzed across the length of the table to stand before Helsa again. "Excuse me, did you just say you didnt recognize moi?" Dementia asked her with a pouty expression, shaking his head. "Why Helsa, I'm hurt! Truly, unbearably hurt! Dont you remember the time I buried you in cotton candy, or took your hell hounds and dyed them all bright purple instead of those drab darker colors? Dont you remember good ole Demy, the one whom everyone ignored as he simply cleaned up everyone else's messes, collecting them for good ole Icky to destroy?"

He frowned deeply, faked hurt clear on his face as he let out a melodramatic sigh. One hand was resting on his forehead in despair, both eyes closed as he stood there, completely still on the table in front of Helsa.

Okay, now I'm just annoyed.

She looked at illusion, calmly, before bluntly stating "No. Of course, it's very likely that I'd forget you, considering how clearly inferior and nonsensical you are. I especially don't remember any of those things you claim to have done." She sniffed snobbishly.

And then she proceeded to squash the illusion with one of her tentacles.
 
Dementia Conversational
Helsa Conversational



Okay, now I'm just annoyed.

She looked at illusion, calmly, before bluntly stating "No. Of course, it's very likely that I'd forget you, considering how clearly inferior and nonsensical you are. I especially don't remember any of those things you claim to have done." She sniffed snobbishly.

And then she proceeded to squash the illusion with one of her tentacles.
The illusion once more reacted as Dementia saw fit, this time squishing flat on the table like a pancake. It blinked owlishly at Helsa, peering out of it's now disk-like shape. Three more Dementia's popped into existence nearby, each of them holding up a card. The first card read "7.6/10", the second was "9/10", while the third a measly "4/10". The last one shrugged. "Needed more oomph, honestly."

At that point, all four illusions disappeared in a puff of smoke, the sound of bells filling the air around them. Dementia, the real one sitting in the seat this time, chuckled lightly, clapping slowly as he grinned at Helsa. "Bravo, bravo indeed! That was a masterful performance, you did an excellent job acting your part! Shame it was such a, hmm, how to put it?... ah yes."

Dementia tapped his chin, then snapped the fingers on his other hand. Disappearing in a puff of smoke, he reappeared floating next to Helsa, a contemplative look on his face. "You, Helsa, are still a bitch." He said bluntly, giving her a friendly smile as he chuckled in amusment. "But compared to all the other gods in Ocaeril, you at least understand what it's like to be left by the wayside. And honestly, I find the whole bad girl aspect endearing, because it confuses people." He told her frankly, watching her face.

He was hoping she would be confused, or better yet try and punch him on the face! If she merely continued to ignore him, then he'd be worried. Because frankly, the Corrupter was never good at ignoring a slight or three. If she had learned how to control her emotions... he had problems. Mostly of the 'what do I do about a sane Corrupter?!?!' Variity pack.
 
Helsa Conversational

Dementia Conversational

The illusion once more reacted as Dementia saw fit, this time squishing flat on the table like a pancake. It blinked owlishly at Helsa, peering out of it's now disk-like shape. Three more Dementia's popped into existence nearby, each of them holding up a card. The first card read "7.6/10", the second was "9/10", while the third a measly "4/10". The last one shrugged. "Needed more oomph, honestly."

At that point, all four illusions disappeared in a puff of smoke, the sound of bells filling the air around them. Dementia, the real one sitting in the seat this time, chuckled lightly, clapping slowly as he grinned at Helsa. "Bravo, bravo indeed! That was a masterful performance, you did an excellent job acting your part! Shame it was such a, hmm, how to put it?... ah yes."

Dementia tapped his chin, then snapped the fingers on his other hand. Disappearing in a puff of smoke, he reappeared floating next to Helsa, a contemplative look on his face. "You, Helsa, are still a bitch." He said bluntly, giving her a friendly smile as he chuckled in amusment. "But compared to all the other gods in Ocaeril, you at least understand what it's like to be left by the wayside. And honestly, I find the whole bad girl aspect endearing, because it confuses people." He told her frankly, watching her face.

He was hoping she would be confused, or better yet try and punch him on the face! If she merely continued to ignore him, then he'd be worried. Because frankly, the Corrupter was never good at ignoring a slight or three. If she had learned how to control her emotions... he had problems. Mostly of the 'what do I do about a sane Corrupter?!?!' Variity pack.

Helsa blinked. She was now clearly somewhat confused.

Was...was that an insult, a compliment, or something else entirely? I'm...not exactly sure what to do next now. She thought to herself.

In fact, I can't get a read on this guy at all! I've got tons of practice reading how people think, and this guy...he's just so out there that I can't get anything from him at all.

...this guy's weird.
 
Dementia Conversational
Helsa Conversational



Helsa blinked. She was now clearly somewhat confused.

Was...was that an insult, a compliment, or something else entirely? I'm...not exactly sure what to do next now. She thought to herself.

In fact, I can't get a read on this guy at all! I've got tons of practice reading how people think, and this guy...he's just so out there that I can't get anything from him at all.

...this guy's weird.
Dementia noticed Helsa's confusion, and grinned slightly broader. Good, it was working. She was off kilter, and had no idea what he'd meant. Time to push the advantage and gather what he could from her responses.

Laying down on his back, he floated in mid air and continued to give Helsa a huge grin, which slowly became a small frown. "You really dont remember me? Me, Dementia, the one who ran off screaming at the top of his lungs, Mister Forgettable? You forgot the god who was, simply put, easy to forget?"

He paused, then shrugged and sighed deeply. "Okay, that's understandable. But still, Helsa, darling, do you seriously not remember me? You know... the guy who gave mortals free choice to pick any path they wanted, good or evil??" He asked her, hurt thick in his voice as he sighed loudly, covering his face with an arm. "Oh, woe is me! The nobody, forgotten as is normal in the tales! The one who was a one and done, lost to time, only to come back later to meet his fellows once again for yet another grand huzzah!"

He paused, then dropped the entire act as he looked around the large room in confusion. "Actually, where are the others? I can see several I recognize, and Ocy at least left a note, but where are Original and Icky and Yimor?" He frowned, turning back to Helsa curiously as he waited for a reply.
 
Helsa Conversational

Dementia Conversational

Dementia noticed Helsa's confusion, and grinned slightly broader. Good, it was working. She was off kilter, and had no idea what he'd meant. Time to push the advantage and gather what he could from her responses.

Laying down on his back, he floated in mid air and continued to give Helsa a huge grin, which slowly became a small frown. "You really dont remember me? Me, Dementia, the one who ran off screaming at the top of his lungs, Mister Forgettable? You forgot the god who was, simply put, easy to forget?"

He paused, then shrugged and sighed deeply. "Okay, that's understandable. But still, Helsa, darling, do you seriously not remember me? You know... the guy who gave mortals free choice to pick any path they wanted, good or evil??" He asked her, hurt thick in his voice as he sighed loudly, covering his face with an arm. "Oh, woe is me! The nobody, forgotten as is normal in the tales! The one who was a one and done, lost to time, only to come back later to meet his fellows once again for yet another grand huzzah!"

He paused, then dropped the entire act as he looked around the large room in confusion. "Actually, where are the others? I can see several I recognize, and Ocy at least left a note, but where are Original and Icky and Yimor?" He frowned, turning back to Helsa curiously as he waited for a reply.

"I do not remember you. I'm quite certain I would remember someone as stupid as you." Helsa sniffs disdainfully.

"And as for your question...be glad I'm actually bothering to answer. Original and Ickol are off somewhere, which is odd since they should have been summoned here, and Yimor is dead."
 
Ickol Confrontational

Clapping her hands together, an illusion of a rain of swords appears over the area, and she feeds it with her sphere to inflict the pain and force her opponents to attempt to concentrate through the pain to dispel the wounds before they take. While she knows the original Original (dear gods that’s unfortunate) will be able to do so with minimal damage, she hopes the others, as imitations, are either made of weaker stiff, or more likely to accidentally give away who the true one is.

The rain of swords proves effective at destroying the clones, as while Original is able to artfully dodge his way around them, making a dance out of it in fact. As his four clones are destroyed, he conjures two more, identical to the first four. His reasoning behind this was that, in his current position, he had no real way of harming Ickol and was playing defensive, but giving the smug expressions of the clones, it was clear to anyone watching that he just wanted to piss ickol off.

Ickol:
================
========


Original The Character:
= = = = = = = = = = =
= = = = = = = = =


Clone #5
=

Clone #6
=

Original's attack roll: 2

Original's defense roll: 1​
 
Dementia Conversational
Helsa Conversational



"I do not remember you. I'm quite certain I would remember someone as stupid as you." Helsa sniffs disdainfully.

"And as for your question...be glad I'm actually bothering to answer. Original and Ickol are off somewhere, which is odd since they should have been summoned here, and Yimor is dead."
Dementia stared for a long, long moment at Helsa, all traces of humor or mirth gone from his face. "I'm sorry... Yimor is, what now? Dead? As in, buried, gone, no longer among the living beings of the realm?" He blinked slowly, taking a while to process her words. So, the dragon was dead now. That... honestly, he wasn't surprised. Sure, he felt a sudden spike of fear as he was told a god had died, but... well, he never liked Yimor in all honesty. If someone was going to die, at least it was him.

Dementia was so deep in thought, he had basically forgotten about his conversation with Helsa. He just continued to stare at her, clearly thinking deeply about what she had just told him. It was obvious that the news of a god dying was a shock to him, and not the most pleasant of ones.
 

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