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 Under the mountain, out of sight of god and man, in the deepest chambers of the stoneroots where the impact of the Palace could be felt as a dull rumble twice a day, Tectamus planted two fingers into the stone walls and began to write. OOC: Commander, I'm picking up a reading. It appears to be... some sort of action.: 2d6k1+3d6k1 11 vs target 7. Domain: 6, Hunger: 13. Consequence, as yet unrealized and unrevealed. -  It was simple. All someone had to do was carve a loved one’s name into a rock, tie a yak hair round it securely, and toss it over the cliff edge, and the power of Circlemaker would take care of the rest. On the other side of death, when the second of the pair dies, all things are possible. Eyes unclouded by the fog of age, or... Fingers wordlessly interlaced, or... Hearts twisted by regret, or... ——I’ve been waiting for you. ———I know. ——Here. Take my hand. Do you feel it? ———Feel what? ——It’s not cold any more. One by one they died, but together they carried on, herds of two. OOC: Creating the shrine of limbo: 3d6k1+3d6k1 11 vs target 9. Domain: 11, Hunger: 15. Consequence, as yet unrealized and unrevealed. Bosyak succeeds in creating a new shrine on the nomads’ pathways, where the souls of the dead can linger until they can go to the River in pairs, a sort of extension of Sharon’s Rite of Parting. -   Loose lips sink ships? Not these ones, apparently, but death certainly loosened people’s lips. Formerly tightly-kept or even life-long secrets were easy pickings for Solene and Mona’s stalking sun-and-moon birds. Their plumage was a dignified grey and white, their beaks a burning orange, their eyes beady and perceptive, their ears open at all times, their job to rake the muck of the river in the wake of dead souls’ passing. Each dusk, they too would die, plunging into the River and emerging with pearlescent feathers and brilliant white beaks, only to be reborn in the blaze of dawn. It was a cycle of life that, in its own little way, defied the extraction of souls put in motion by Sharon, Bosyak, and Mezidec. They were good at catching secrets... but oh, if only they were as good at keeping them. The damnable birds had a habit of occasionally perching on the boats and whispering things they’d learnt from one dead person to another dead person, or flying back to the mundane lowland seas and blathering to bemused or drunken fishermen. Not really a problem for reaper operations, and generally the dead had more pressing issues on their mind than gossip they knew nothing about and had no way to act on, but still. There were leaks here and there in the flow of secrets. OOC: Creating the sunbirds: 2d6k1+3d6k1 11 vs target 9. Domain: 8, Hunger: 10. Consequence! Solene and Mona succeed in creating spy-birds to keep an eye on the River. Taking the death-rebirth thing from the discord conversation because it’s good. -   While Mezidec and Tectamus patrolled the inside of the mountain, Sharon went far away, outside even the path of Solene and Mona. The air grew thin, the cold burned, and then it stopped being cold and started being something else, something much worse. She carried on. She went where the furthest, strangest stars perched like candles on the pillars of creation, where the ashen veils of the world gentle billowed, where a wind came from beyond and carried with it— . . . —nothing. Every tunnel the stone gods went down, nothing, nothing, nothing out of place. Not one single thing seemed unusual about the inner workings and realms of the mountain. Nothing that should incite some tired celestial bureaucrat to declare this world an anomaly. Nothing to suggest that Sharon colliding with the world knocked it off balance, or anything like that. No, nothing unusual or unbalanced, though there was something to the world that just seemed to make sense the more and more Mezidec contemplated it on his patrol. Although space was convoluted within the Mountain, the folds and coils formed by the rock and his tunnels came together as a unified whole that reminded him of the very thing that created him in the first place: the mortal mind. And then the idea shimmered through him like a vein of quicksilver: the very thing the outsider was looking for wasn’t in the world, it was— . . . —The smell of fresh blood lingered in the air, blended with the sweet-smelling rot of death, the dusty odour of undisturbed millennia, and the ozone-scented void of time beyond time. Whatever dreadful thing happened here, it happened aeons ago, and also now, and later too, and forever, and never. Without going beyond the veil, she would never know. As for her investigation: there was nothing wrong with the world. It was perfectly stable, and not tilted off its axis by the enormous abstract collision she’d caused. And as she looked back at the little mountain and its sun and moon and closer stars, almost from the outside in, and without a roaring spray from the passage of the Wave Rake, it was so easy to tell: it’s a god drat skull. Not a human-shaped skull, a mountain-shaped skull, but, you know, there was something skull-y about it, an ambient feeling you just get when you’re the god of death and all. The mountain was the skull of something older than anything she’d ever known. And everything in this world was life growing on the husk of that dead(-but-dreaming?) thing. OOC: Investigating for clues as to the stability and fate of the world: 6d6k1+4d6k1 11 vs target 9. Domain: 24, Hunger: 12. No Consequence. Sharon and Mezidec (and Tectamus) realise the following truths:
- DP status: Bosyak: 0/7 ----- (-2 for shrine) Mezidec: 0/7 ----- (-2 for investigation) Solene/Mona: 2/7 ----- (-1 for birds) Sharon: 0/7 ----- (-2 for investigation) Tectamus: 0/3 (-1 for investigation, -1 for thing?) UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 20:15 on Dec 20, 2021 |
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Nov 23, 2021 05:17
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Mezidec – In the Heart of the Mountain with Sharon and Tectamus, extending communication tunnels to Bosyak and the Sisters DP:0/7, Wounds: None As their collective mission had started, so it ended, the investigating deities and the demigod debriefing at the Heart of the Mountain, with Mezidec shaken to the core. How certain could he be of his own origin, formed as he had been within what had once been the head, the mind of something far more powerful? "We have to let the others know about this. This is not something we should keep amongst ourselves, not with the implications running this deep and this ancient. I'm extending communication tunnels, I'll bring them in if they so choose." So saying, Mezidec gestured upwards, a tiny, temporary link worming its way to the summit. *** A tiny, temporary link tunnel emerged at the summit. From within, the voice of the light at the end of the tunnel. "Bosyak, Circlemaker. Forgive this abrupt intrusion, but Sharon and I have learned some very disturbing things about the mountain, disturbing enough that we must share them with you as quickly as we can manage. The mountain is a skull. Unimaginably large, unimaginably ancient. Something terrible has occurred, as yet we cannot pinpoint what, exactly. If you wish to discuss this further, I would gladly extend my hospitality to you at the Heart of the Mountain, or keep this channel open should you prefer your solitude." *** Another gesture from the Uniter of Kin, this tunnel rooted more in conceptual space, an outreach to the currently active Sister in her orbit, as unobtrusive as the previous communication had been, this time attenuated so that the full power of heat and light would not inconvenience the guests presently in the Heart of the Mountain. The Patron of the Dwellers Within sent through, "Eternal Watchers, forgive this distraction, but Sharon and I, in concert with the Warden of the Antimountain, have made some very disturbing discoveries, and these are not secrets that should be denied to you for even a moment. The mountain is a skull. Unimaginably large, unimaginably ancient. Something terrible has occurred, as yet we cannot pinpoint what, exactly. If you wish to discuss this further, I would gladly extend my hospitality to either or both of you at the Heart of the Mountain, or keep this channel open should you prefer your solitude and the progression of your duty." ooc: Emergency meeting, or at the very least emergency notification to get everyone up to speed
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Nov 23, 2021 06:16
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The Terrible Secret of Skull Mountain: A Godmoot For the second time in this era, a pair of tunnels, one physical, one conceptual, reached out to distant Gods from the Heart of the Mountain. Mezidec had sent out the call, now all that remained was to listen for the answers, or bring them in. Sharon was already there, obviously, since it was the two of her and Mezidec who decided on the meetup. If anything was out of the ordinary, it was that she held her scythe manifest, her fingers tapping a gentle rhythm on its handle. She seemed to be in thought. At the peak, Bosyak's eyes barely moved towards the sudden opening of light and sound. He let Mezidec finish speaking. After a moments of silence, he snorted. "This is important?" he asked. "We have a… mmmm... an agreement, Enricher. You in the mountain. Me upon it." With a small wave of his fingers, he summoned a snow flurry to begin covering up Mezidec's link. Utterly uninterested, he settled back into his rock and placed one hand over the other. Ever since his time on the river, his hand had felt strangely… cold. Sharon’s eyes were tired, but Bosyak’s rejection still managed to force a smile and a small laugh from her. “I cannot exactly fault him for his casual attitude”, she spoke after the link was gone, “So what if the world he’s always lived on is a skull rather than a rock? There’s something to admire in the ability to reject existential dread from such issues.” She sighed. “I cannot brush this issue aside like that, though. I am certain you know why.” “Understood, Bosyak. Will let you know if there is something that threatens the top of the mountain.” Answered Mezidec before closing and sealing that tunnel, matching below what the flurry started above. Turning to Sharon, he answered, “Yes, one of the things I appreciate about him is how unflappable he is, sangfroid in abundance. But not a luxury you or I can afford. He is on the mountain, I am of it, its substance is directly relevant to who and what I am.” Sharon shared an understanding nod with Mezidec. --- On the surface of the Mountain, Kiddinu was waiting. He had devised an ingenious way to prove once and for all that the world was round. He just had to wait for the sun to strike the bottom of this well. He was watching the light creep forward and then… it just stopped. Kiddinu stood next to his well, shaded his eye with his hand and peered into the sky. What the… --- Solene had come to a screeching halt after hearing Mezidec’s revelations. She stood there stunned for a little while before hurrying to catch up with her schedule. An instant later Mona entered the heart of the mountain, her hair tousled, her robes carelessly tossed on. “A skull?!” She said through a stifled yawn. “A skull from what, and has it always been a skull? It doesn’t look like a skull. Does this mean we are…” Mona looks around herself. “In some kind of brain?” Mezidec, currently in a relatively fine if bland scree, gave her a wry nod. “You have neatly encapsulated everything that went through my mind on learning it.” “All we have is theories”, Sharon continued where Mezidec left off, “Whatever this thing is, it’s so ancient as to defy meaning in trying to date it. Too ancient. The only things of this scale I’ve ever seen that might leave a skull would be Titans, and even they usually aren’t quite this large.” “Let’s hope it isn’t. The last World I was at was destroyed simply by being too close to a pair of those. I’d imagine that they’re trouble, even in death.” She grimaced. “And trust me, this thing isn’t exactly resting easy. Something terrible has happened here, and I have a sinking feeling something terrible will come to pass.” “Are we talking about just a skull or are we talking about, some kind of head.” Mona wondered, rubbing her brow. “Skulls are generally rather, let’s stay, stable. Heads rot until they turn to skulls. Though I guess while this is true of mortal bodies, who knows if it applies to this.” Mezidec replied, “Given the timescale, given what we felt and found, I’m leaning heavily on skull. The material on the surface matches the interior, not so much ‘flesh’ so to speak. Stuff grows within and without, vegetation, but the substrate from which the soil arises is much the same. There is life, but it seems very much after the event.” “It’s definitely a skull”, Sharon nodded, “It’s got a skull-y vibe to it, and trust me on this, I’m a Death Goddess.” “Regardless, the rot and trauma lingers, if more so conceptually than literally. Whatever scars there were, there still are, and there will be, until they are resolved.” “Hmm that still leaves me with my second question.” She sighs. “What entity can die, but also be massive and ancient enough to leave a skull like this behind? Take us gods, we are eternal and powerful but while we might fade, we do not leave… well, mortal remains behind.” “Well, that depends on the Divinity”, Sharon responded, “Some of them leave corpses, it’s not unheard of.” “And besides”, she continued, “All we have is theories for now, as I said. On both what exactly this is, and what could have caused this. I will have to peer past the veil to learn more of the circumstances.” “Well, whatever it was, it’s big enough that a titan would see it as a mortal sees a titan. The head alone supports a deific ecosystem - theosystem? - and it ended before any of our eternities began.” Chipped in the Enricher. Mona stood up and paced around the chamber. “I simply don’t know what to think of this. It changes everything and yet.” She looks at the others. “It changes nothing. The mountain is still the mountain and there is nothing we can do or should do about this new knowledge. I thank you for telling me, but maybe grumpy old Bosyak has the right of it.” “Incorrect”, Sharon spoke with a cold, professional conviction not usually present in her voice, “The Mountain is a corpse, and a corpse not at rest, at that.” “All the dead deserve closure and peace.” “Does the mountain have a soul? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t carry off the body of the deceased on your river, you carry off their souls.” Mona replied. “We are dealing with an existence far higher on the ontological scale than a mere mortal. Beings whose deaths can be very complicated”, Sharon sighed, “…This is going to be like, a several centuries long project for me.” “Well, whatever the conclusion of that project is, I hope you are not planning to carry off our world to wherever you bring its souls.” Mona said, eyeing Sharon’s scythe. Suspicion was growing in her mind. “This all does seem awfully well-timed.” Sharon nodded, “I actually agree. It’s awfully convenient that they happened to send me of all beings to a place that just happens to be the unwell remains of some unknown entity. It smells like a scheme, and I kind of suspect the bosses knew all along.” “Not a comforting thought,” mused Mezidec. “I’d stay your hand until we know for absolutely certain what we’re dealing with, the destruction of all we know is to be avoided if possible. Here’s an idea, though. Look at me.” The manifestation ran a hand of loose stone over a torso of the same. “I manifest from the matter of the mountain. I could see if I could go deeper, into the ancient memories of form, and take the shape, if not the size, of whatever this thing was. Look the mountain in the eye, on our scale. Skulls suggest flesh, and it’s a form of body material I’ll admit to being curious about.” Sharon nodded again, “Sounds like a plan. I will be taking a peek across the veil, as I said, and see if I can figure out the history of the events that took place here. In addition”, she frowned, “I could try and get a Lesser Celestial from the Halls, somebody with archival Domains. They are a self-important lot, but knowing stuff they’re good at. But then again, if the Celestial Bureaucracy’s higher-ups really have some plot going, that might not be wise…” And these are the people Sharon has connected to our little world Mona thinks, but bites her tongue before it spills out. “Solene and I will redouble in vigilance during our daily journeys, I am not sure there is anything else we can contribute to this investigation in its current state.” She says. “But should you have need of us, we will provide whatever aid we can.” Mezidec nodded. “Then we have our plans, and will need to learn more to continue our discussion. Let’s get about it. Esteemed ladies, your tunnels will take you as close to home as you wish.” Stepping through the tunnel, Mona makes her way back to the silent halls of the Palace of Dusk and Dawn. She would have to speak to the birds as quickly as possible, tell them to keep an even closer eye on Sharon and anything going on on the river. Sharon watched Mona leave in silence, only releasing a sigh after she had left. “Maybe the yak sausage was a mistake…” AJ_Impy fucked around with this message at 21:43 on Nov 23, 2021 |
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Nov 23, 2021 21:39
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THE FIRST AGE, THE AGE OF COMINGS AND GOINGS, IS OVER More than anything else, the first Age following the arrival of the god of death was a time of great movement. The Mezidecene Merchants flowed between the subterranean cities and villages; the embassy-monasteries guaranteed flow of ideas and technology from within the mountain to without; the nomads continued their harsh course from shrine to secret shrine under Bosyak’s territory; the sun and particularly the moon came down from the sky into terrestrial secrecy; and, of course, souls flowed out of the world along the newly-established tributary of the great River, stopping only for their Rite of Parting (the nomads’ Final Waystation aside). Forget destabilising the world—the grim reaper’s arrival had destabilised its people. - Keep your heads down. Do your best. Follow familial obligations. Don’t get ideas above your station. Do right in this life and you’ll be judged well and then rewarded in the next. And so on... Anton did his side-job as prophet well enough, but there was more to the popularity of the Bureaucracy’s principles than that. It was an alluring creed for the downtrodden, and useful propaganda for those in power. Don’t make trouble!, they commanded. We’ll reach heaven before you, the meek replied. By the Bureaucracy’s standards they were technically leading good lives, but... were they living the good life? Probably not. That wasn’t the only problem. Many of the wealthier and more powerful of this world still had a somewhat mercenary attitude to death. Surely, if they pleaded the right way, they could get a little more time, and so on. It wasn’t uncommon for the reapers to bring Sharon word of prayers like this: quote:"Reaper, they say that you might answer prayers. Our family is one of the wealthiest in our City, yet our Matriarch has recently, and suddenly died. She has left no will, and the wealth that is to be divided is sizeable. She was well respected, and many would respect her wishes, but in the absence of that, we are falling into quarrelling, and bitter words were said. We stand here now, to ask you to bring back our beloved Matriarch's spirit for one final word to help the next generation to take over If you grant us this boon, we will invest wealth in a temple dedicated to you." And how did Sharon feel about the rising tide of wars fuelled by the desires of the lowland tyrants and the technologies and techniques spread by Mezidec’s followers? Was it her place to have an opinion? OOC: The Bureaucracy’s principles mesh fairly well with the existing state of affairs in the lowland villages and cities, but do they mesh well with Sharon? - The kings and queens and assorted tyrants of the lowland city-states had never been, by any stretch of the imagination, good people, but their new state of affairs was something else. The new philosophies spread by the embassies had their fair share of interest among the lower classes, and so the ‘city’ part of ‘city-state’ threatened the ‘state’ part. On the other hand, the new technologies spread across the surface to, in theory, unite and empower its peoples. The truth was less favourable: blasting explosives, once used for mining, turned to the purposes of battle and sabotage; extensive systems of writing, turned to the purposes of military logistics and the suppression of dissent; translation matrices, turned to the purposes of interrogation and espionage. Every new technique and technology could be repurposed to suit those in power the instant it became convenient to do so. As the embassies threatened to shut their gates and turn to monastic isolation, the city-states turned on each other and even themselves. It was one city—one community, perhaps—against another, with neutral parties trapped in the middle. At least his closest followers were safe, given the security of the mountain and the protection of he and Tectamus. Even then, not everyone was satisfied with the progress so far. In the Heart of the Mountain, the stalagmites repeated a mortal’s prayer: quote:“Patron of the Dwellers Within. I have a dream. To Unite our people more. The Tunnels are a warren now! To travel from one to another is arduous. None wish to support my undertaking. All of them seek to only find gold. But with your Power, I will unite us!” OOC: The technological developments spread by the embassies have unfortunately been turned to the purposes of espionage, war, and the state. However, the communalistic Mezidecene philosophies stir something in the hearts of the oppressed. Meanwhile, the people within the mountain are more culturally united (thanks to Mezidec’s bounty and advice, the Mezidecene Merchants, plus the ongoing threat of war from outside), but spatially separated, and some of them want to become even more united. - Promises. Grudges. Loves. Celebrations. Mortals rarely did things alone. And there they were, just a way down the mountainside from Bosyak: all the joys of life together with other people. You can look, but you can’t touch. You can know, but you can never possess. Sure, the nomads gave thanks, followed the old ways, brought offerings to the peak (and sometimes died in the process), had all the right reverence, but they had what the god did not. What’s more, they had ignorance: who among them knew that the Herd-of-One wanted more than the solitude of the mountaintop? All alone on his peak, the whole world stretched out below him, so close and yet so far. A prayer rose on the hearth-smoke from a nomad encampment and spiralling slowly to the top of the mountain: quote:Circlemaker, I am... afraid. The kings and emperors of the world below always want more. What if one day they want our homes, our yaks, our people? They already burn each other’s cities when they’re angry. What if they burn our shrines too? I don’t think they’ll follow the old rites and manners of hospitality. What should we do? OOC: God’s in heaven and all’s right with the world as far as (most of) the nomads are concerned. The shrines—both the intended ones like Sharys and the Final Waystation and the unintended ones like So-Ceba—do their jobs in keeping the peace, preserving hope, and maintaining the proper forms of hospitality. The nomads are virtually untouched by the violence brewing further down the mountain, and from what little they know of it, they’re glad. Glad to be strong enough to bear the wind and the cold and live, if not thrive, where others cannot. - Artists—mystics—scholars—they all came together in Ur-Shushan, site of the first moon basin. Here, it was said, one could come to see and know the world of the divine. Well, a lot of people said a lot of things about the moon basins, and almost every legend had been proven almost entirely false... but with a kernel of truth. Over the years a sect formed, collecting and reinterpreting the legends about the miracle of the basins. They sifted golden grains of truth from the muck of mere speculation, one speck at a time. If they collected enough esoteric secrets, they assumed, they might one day truly know the divine, and therefore come face to face with it. They called themselves the Theosophists. Others called them fools, but they didn’t mind. Others prayed to Solene and Mona by burning written pleas under the light of the sun, or whispering them under the light of the moon. The Theosophists knew, from trial and error, that the methods were irrelevant. The twins were more observant than most people gave them credit for. You didn’t need silly rituals to talk to the gods. All you needed to do was talk, and hope they would answer, and perhaps shed some light on the true nature of reality. quote:Eternal Watchers, legend has it that the moon basins refill with the blood of the moon, which transubstantiates into water when it touches the earth, and back to blood again when it contacts the minute spark of the divine in the mortal body. Is it true? And furthermore... can gods truly bleed? OOC: There’s a new sect in town: the Theosophists of Ur-Shushan, who believe that by studying miracles and accumulating enough weird knowledge they can truly understand, and therefore experience, the divine. They’re currently focused on the moon basins, an overt and easily-accessible miracle. There’s a lot of bullshit in their beliefs, but they’re slowly filtering it to actual truths. - THE SECOND AGE HAS BEGUN - DP status: Bosyak: 5/5 Mezidec: 5/5 Solene/Mona: 5/5 Sharon: 5/5 Tectamus: 2/2
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Nov 25, 2021 00:53
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Mezidec – In the Heart of the Mountain DP:5/5 > 3/5, Wounds: None Mezidec looked upon the barbarism of the surface, and he was not best pleased. How was there supposed to be progress with so many lives, so many limited resources frittered away in endless conflict? Here was a problem best solved by a cessation of action: Mezidec decoupled all possibility of gaining wealth from deliberate hostility. Those who engaged in such matters were guaranteed only poverty and penury, no matter how rich they may have been before they lusted after their neighbour's resources. Likewise, the Light at the End of the Tunnel looked on the victims of such aggression, where there was no provocation given, by offering those so assaulted an escape route for them and their belongings, safety tunnels to unassailable temporary refuges. *** quote:“Patron of the Dwellers Within. I have a dream. To Unite our people more. The Tunnels are a warren now! To travel from one to another is arduous. None wish to support my undertaking. All of them seek to only find gold. But with your Power, I will unite us!” A tunnel opened up before the one offering prayer, ironically offering swift and easy access to the Heart of the Mountain. From it, the voice of the Kindly Shelter spake: "I have heard you. I would listen more. Come before me and speak. Lay out your plans and intent in full." ooc: Disincentivizing war by making it completely unprofitable. No Wealth can be secured through hostile bloodshed, and all attacked without provocation by fellow sentients can escape via Tunnel. Expending 2DP (Wealth and tunnels) and 2 HP (Magnanimity and Progress) on top of baseline. Also, let's talk, supplicant.
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Nov 25, 2021 01:52
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Sharon – The City of Acca DP: 5/5, Wounds: None Two figures amidst a lengthy conversation walked through the City-State of Acca, one of the grander of its ilk by local standards. However, despite being clearly alien to the setting, nobody seemed to be paying particular attention to the two as they stalked the streets like specters. "But still", Sharon was wearing shades and a wide-brimmed straw hat woven by a local craftswoman to ward off the bright Accan Sun, "It's still a bit lovely, ain't it?" "Well", unlike Sharon, Mortimer did not accessorize beyond the Eminently Sensible glasses he was always wearing, "The Standard Moral Framework was not really created with shittiness", he made air quotes as he spoke the word. Sharon thought it was a somewhat annoying habit, but not annoying enough to make a whole thing out of, "or lack thereof in mind. It's a system of morals that is quite stable over lengthy periods of time under conditions of minimal oversight, and according to the Yama, functions admirably well in comparative hamartial stress analyses. If one lacks pedagogic Domains in their pedigree like we do, or if the assigned Yama is otherwise occupied, it's the most logical choice of morals for us to employ..." "Nnnnyyeeah", Sharon said noncommittally. She sipped on the local beer she was holding. It was decent, had that Ancient flavor profile, "But still", she repeated herself, "It's a bit lovely, ain't it?" Mortimer glanced at her, then to the side where several cotters visiting the city from nearby farmlands were standing in the gutter, heads bowed to make way for a man in brightly dyed garments. Several of them were clearly terrified. The young reaper sighed, and cast his gaze far into the horizon. "I suppose it is, yes." The two continued their journey in silence, until they came to a walled-off building significantly larger than its neighbors. "This the one?" "Yes." "Righto~ Thanks for the chat, Mortimer." And with that, Sharon leaped inside the building, phasing straight through the walls. ------------- The atmosphere inside the dining room was not exactly pleasant. The gathered members of the family were constantly casting suspicious glances at each other, mostly silent, and when they spoke, they spoke tersely, with a cold edge to their voices. They had not noticed Sharon, standing right there. Yet. This was about to change. "Heeyyyy~" she suddenly piped up, flashing a peace sign. It was not a gesture known on this world, but Sharon did not particularly care. One of the people present started to scream, but Sharon killed the voice right in their throat with a snap of her fingers and a "Shut." She cleared her throat. "Behold, ye mortal hierarchs, and be amazed, for it be Divine Providence", she spoke with a mock aristocratic trill (again, out of place in this world, but again again, Sharon did not particularly care), "I, Sharon, have personally descended from the very Heavens to impart Godly knowledge upon thee! So hear this lesson, and heed it well!" She planted the butt of her scythe on the floor, leaning on it with one hand as she craned down towards the newly minted would-be-Patriarch, until her face was mere inches from his. Close enough for the brim of her hat to cover both of them. She used her free hand to lower her shades just enough to peer over their brim, eyes untold millennia old staring straight through into the soul of the mortal she was facing. "I am not going to let you summon the dead to solve your loving financial issues." "Alright?" "Make sure to tell your friends, too." She stood up, and sighed, "It is not the place of the Dead to rule over or decide on the affairs of the living. It never works out, you know? It always starts off with something innocuous, like 'please let my dead mom arbitrate this one final family issue', but it always ends up with weird death cultists trying to start necrocracies or immortal skull emperors scheming to bring about a thousand years of darkness. You'll just have to do with getting to make your peace and saying your final goodbyes, though taken the way in which you bicker over her trinkets, I doubt you ever cared enough to do such a thing. Just a reminder, but you don't actually get to bring any of that stuff with you." With those words, she turned around, but suddenly stopped as if remembering something. "Oh, and by the way. Since I'm such a nice Goddess, I'll just ignore the fact that you tried to bribe me to get your way. I would steer clear from that sort of activity in the future, because a lot of the more prideful divinities would smite you for that sort of hubris." "Peace~" And with that, she was gone. ------------- Sharon – The River Sharon stood in her boat, staring off into the distance. Chaotic Space was no joke, even for Goddesses of Passage, but it's not as if this investigation would ever proceed if she didn't get a look at the situation from the outside. It was a pain in the rear end, but it had to be done. She started sailing, through the River, farther and farther away, into stormier and stormier waters, until the waters dissolved into mere concepts, and further still, until even the waves lost everything but their most abstract meaning. Further still. OOC: Mostly fluff to answer a prayer. Also taking the action of investigating Skull Mountain by taking a short trip through the veil. Domains in use are Borders (obviously), Transitions (for smooth passage through dangerous Chaotic Space), and a bit of Death (to investigate the Death of the Skull-haver). Hungers in place are Lazing About (proper navigation is exacting work, eyeballing it is way easier), and Happy Endings (we got to ensure closure for Skullguy, even if it's dangerous). I will be investing 2 DP and 2 HP in addition to the base roll, for a total pool of 3 DP and 3 HP. If I can take roll difficulty into account, will instead be investing only 1 DP and 1 HP if this is a difficulty 7 or lower action. Theantero fucked around with this message at 16:02 on Nov 25, 2021 |
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Nov 25, 2021 15:57
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The great god of the mountain tried to bend the winds of fortune to his favour, but no matter how he grasped they slipped through his fingers. To command no war to prosper any party was a great demonstration of power—a power which, it seemed, Mezidec did not have. Instead, his clumsy attempts to guide the future had a backlash. The tyrants motivated solely by profit and not also by grudges or glory decided than wars on equal footing were simply unfair and, more to the point, disrupted each side’s mutual advancement by wasting labour on a largely unwinnable conflict. So, the greedier set their sights up the slopes of the mountain, towards those virgin lands whose mineral wealth remained unexploited. For the advancement of mortalkind and for the advancement of our city before any other! Their calculating eyes simply slid over the embassy-monasteries. No point trying to mount a siege on those inviolable fortresses when there were easier opportunities to be had elsewhere. OOC: Stop the wars: 3d6k1+3d6k1 10 vs target 11. Domain: 10, Hunger: 15. Failure, and a Consequence, though as Mezidec would’ve succeeded at the target below (9), you can choose to force a success at the cost of incurring another Consequence. The first Consequence is that the tide of war is rising further and further up the mountain as the warring states decide that colonising the ‘unclaimed‘ slopes will be more profitable and allow for more progress than fighting endless battles against more-or-less equal opponents. However, they don’t even bother trying to invade the embassies or Mezidec’s territory. - The supplicant stepped through the tunnel into the Heart of the Mountain. “Uniter,” he unrolled a series of scrolls, “well, Uniter,” and attached them with pins of bronze, “that is to say,” to a set of simple wooden folding stands, “um,” revealing an altogether more complex plan than any mortal had previously brought to the god’s consideration. The next words caught in his throat: “I am Oximantes Protomoro, and this is my proposition for the greater union of our peoples.” Sprawled out on the vellum was an intricate diagram of tunnels mapped onto the rugged terrain of the inner mountain. Bridges crossed subterranean rivers. Covered highways rose through deadly-sharp geodes. On- and off-ramps spiralled round colossal stalagmites and stalactites. The plans detailed paths of both stone and water, for cart and boat and beast of burden and foot travel alike, connecting every major settlement. Written in cursive at the top of it all were the words Standard Tunnel Network. OOC: Will you make the first public transport architect of the mountain’s dream come true? - As the barest glimmer of the idea of a wave lapped against her boat with still no sign of any kind of destination, Sharon started to realise she’d made an error in judgement. Time and space flowed in undirected eddies here. It was so different from the River, where the fabric of reality could be flexible, but you always ended up in the same place, at the right time. Here, though, she went in circles, drifted off at strange tangents, could swear she saw boats—or the concept of boats—in the distance. At one point she even saw herself on her own boat, body wasting away, a glimmer of awareness and fear in her double’s eyes. Eventually, however, she returned to where she’d left off, physically no worse for wear. Perhaps trying to force through the absence of meaning was doomed from the start... perhaps it was like her home after all. That is, the River was but the barest idea of flow until anyone imposed a sense of place upon it, and the void beyond void was the same, but a sea instead, or a swamp or bog, perhaps. OOC: Go beyond the veil: 3d6k1+3d6k1 10 vs target 11. Domain: 10, Hunger: 10. No Consequence. Sharon fails to pass beyond the veil, but there ‘s a suggestion to make a second try easier (or you can force a success now at the cost of incurring a Consequence, since you would’ve succeeded against the rank below). - DP status: Bosyak: 5/5 Mezidec: 3/5 ----- (-2 for changing the wars) Solene/Mona: 5/5 Sharon: 4/5 ----- (-2 for travel, +1 for prayer) Tectamus: 2/2 UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 17:39 on Nov 25, 2021 |
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Nov 25, 2021 17:34
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Sharon – Somewhere/Somewhen in Chaotic Space DP: 4/5, Wounds: None There were times to be thoughtful, and there were times to be brash. And in all honesty, this was probably one of the former. Unfortunately, Sharon was not a particularly thoughtful God when it came to getting the job done. She grit her teeth, and pressed on. OOC: Forcing the previous action. Theantero fucked around with this message at 18:35 on Nov 25, 2021 |
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Nov 25, 2021 18:29
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Mezidec – Telling the winds of fortune to shut up and sit down. 3/5, Wounds: None Mezidec arose in volcanic fury, his blazing ire focused into stone-melting heat as he beheld the Tyrants sending their forces into pristine lands. "I rescind my blessing from you. I deny wealth and prosperity to you. Everything you value shall be as dust that returns to the Mountain. Every last fleck of gold. Every single ounce of bronze or iron. Your coffers I hereby empty. Your palaces I return to the stone from which they were hewn. Every weapon, every piece of armor, every shield, everything with which you have equipped your soldiers, every tool, every valuable item of clothing to keep out blessed Bosyak's cold and snow. The mountain reclaims, right this instant. Have I made myself clear?" *** Another time, an audience simpler in nature, more complex in demonstration. On the whole an impressively comprehensive plan, and the manifestation nodded to the supplicant. A tunnel opened headed straight down. "Tectamus, my child, bear witness. A means by which fewer of the dwellers within will become lost or stranded. Let us both lend our power, and assist in making this ambition a reality. You shall have your support, Oximantes Protomoro." ooc: Forcing the action through with prejudice. Separately, investing 1 D 1H into the plans of Oximantes Protomoro and invoking Tectamus to do the same, safe travels reducing their workload.
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Nov 25, 2021 19:57
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Mona - Ur Shushan DP 5/5 Wounds: none Mona likes the Theosophists. They have that most delightful of mortal traits, the insatiable need to understand things completely beyond their reach. Well, if they really want to give it a try... During the next black night, the nights when most of her isenjoying the mountain's surface, Mona seeks out the group of scholars. She joins their gathering unnoticed, her veil pulled tight. She stays there for a while, listening, waiting for one of the Theosophists to be curious enough to enquire about the newcomer. The assembly launches into a ponderous debate dominated by an old Shushan, about the potential implication of godly powers in the shifting geopolitical context as evidenced by the new pattern in inter-state warfare. Apollonia, a foreigner from one of the coastal city-states, and Mona's right-hand neighbor leans over and whispers in her ear. "I don't think I have seen you around before, this must be quite the introduction to our society." Apollonia chuckles apologetically. "Anammelech can be a bit long-winded sometimes. Who are you and what brings you to our gathering?" "Two unassuming, but very good questions." Mona pulls back her veil, and Apollonia's tanned face turns almost as pale as Mona's. The debate dies down instantly, even without looking at her the mortals feel a shift in the air. "I have come tonight to answer your questions." She says, stepping into the circle as Anammelech hurries back into the crowd. "Can gods truly bleed? Of course they can." She pauses, sweeps the assembly with her eyes. She enjoys this tremendously. "If they choose to, just as I choose to appear to you tonight in this form. There are fundamental differences between being material, mortal, and being immaterial, divine. As immaterial beings, we can change our material aspects as we wish. On the other hand, we are bound in immaterial ways in which you, as material beings, are free. You have constancy of shape, but your concepts are mutable. We are beings of fixed concepts, but varying shapes." A brief pause. "We are opposites, and I think we both can learn from the other. I have... changed since I have started coming to the mountain. Just a little, but for me, that means a lot. Therefore, I want to give back and help you in your efforts to understand us better." Mona extends her hand and an orb of water rises from it, dark as night and full of stars. "As to what is in the moon basin if not my blood? It is my essence. A part of my immutable concept, shaped to be at home here on the surface. It being part of me explains why it vanishes at dawn, even if you remove the water from the basin, even if you seal it in an amphora." She beckons Apollonia forward. "But dawn is still far away and until then, maybe we can continue to learn from each other. Come, drink of the water and tell me a secret, tell me something important to you." She doesn't really care about the secret in itself, but rather about the choice the mortal woman will make. What does she consider an important secret? In return Mona wants to grant her a vision, just a glimpse of what it means to be Mona, a view from up on the Path, a brief glimpse of the Palace, a whiff of transubstantiation or an instantaneous feeling of eternity. Apollonia approaches, casting uncertain glances around her. Carefully, slowly, her pursed lips draw closer to the water suspended above Mona's hand. The goddess gives her an encouraging nod and Apollonia takes a sip. Mona decides to favor the Theosophists and tries to create a new ritual. Drink water from a moon basin, reveal a heartfelt secret and Mona might grant you a brief insight into divinity, hopefully toned down enough to not shatter their mortal minds. More like a pleasant hallucinogenic trip. Using Guidance and Secret domains and the Unity and Curiosity hungers. Let's say 3 DP and 2 extra hunger dice, this is important to Mona.
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Nov 25, 2021 21:36
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Of course, the alternative to crafting a delicate reality to help navigate through the sea of unreality was to brute-force a route through sheer bloody-mindedness. Either end of the spectrum was good as long as you committed to it; choosing neither meant picking the muddle in the middle. That rarely, if ever, worked in these kinds of situations. This is what she saw in the void beyond void, waves gently lapping at her boat: a fractal, a monster, a titan, a stinking rotting corpse that dwarfed the world she’d just left, and it was decapitated. Ten trillion and more arms pointed in to the stump of a neck like a flower of withered flesh. Their hands followed the knife-palm martial stance. Their fingertips dipped in the stale-yet-flowing blood coming from their neck. Nobody murdered this being. They severed their own head, under their own power. What Sharon saw was the most inscrutable act known to mortal and god: the willing death of an all-powerful, immortal, transcendent being. The Suicide Divine. What causes one who has everything to give it all up? Sharon brute-forces through the fundamental chaos to reach her destination: the corpse of... something. Specifically, something that committed suicide despite being immensely powerful. Consequence, as yet unrevealed. Now that you’ve done this once, you’ll be able to return to the corpse at no cost. - Mezidec reminded the world that, while the earth may look cold and still on the outside, it burns and roils within. So it was that the venal and greedy profit-seeking tyrants of the lowland city-states found their food turned to ash and their gold turned to pyrite and their tapestries and reliefs, which documented their Great Works, reverted to mere fibres and rocks before their very eyes. This smiting created openings for rebellion, some of which succeeded in establishing more communalistic societies, others of which failed for one reason or another and reverted to (less-warlike) tyranny. Subterfuge, espionage, and restrained diplomacy replaced outright war as the means of conflict and dominion. The other rulers, being greatly cowed, but no less venal, decided to appease the god of the mountain and acquire new territory and wealth at the same time. There was no need for war, or for all that bloodshed. Instead, the rulers would extend the benefits of civilisation to the nomads and simple settled villagers of the higher slopes. In the name of Mezidec, god of progress, of course. And if their armed Mezidecine Missionaries happened to stumble upon some material wealth that could be put to better use building roads or farms or palaces for the city-states, why not use it? It wasn’t as if the natives were doing anything with it. Mezidec forces the matter and dramatically reduces the number of wars fought between the more belligerent lowland city-states by smiting the greediest tyrants. Consequence: The others decide to appease Mezidec by ‘civilising the natives’ so that both they and Mezidec get what (they think) they want: wealth and progress. - Of course—why blunder around when he could just let mortals occasionally make plans beyond their means, and fulfil their ambitions on request? It was fairly trivial for he and Tectamus to carve the cradle-like network of tunnels between the subterranean settlements, and within a decade many of the mortals of the mountain began to feel that the cities and villages were more like districts and outskirts of a single, underworld-spanning city. The Mezidecene-Tectamic-Protomoran Standard Tunnel Network, or MTP-STN, as it later became known, was the most advanced work of architecture in the world by far. Where the outsiders had dirt paths between their cities, where there were paths at all, the insiders had swift paved access to virtually any inhabited place in the mountain. As a further boon, mining divisions were more easily planned and their coordinates were better-known; fewer lost miners meant less work for Tectamus. OOC: Implement the STN plan: 3d6k1+3d6k1 12 vs target 9. Domain: 15, Hunger: 13. No Consequence. Mezidec fulfils the prayer by using his mastery of tunnels to fulfil Protomoro’s plan for a standardised transport network throughout the majority of the mortal-accessible mountain. This has the side-effect of reducing Tectamus’ workload as planned. - Mona wanted insight into mortality. The Theosophists wanted insight into the divine. Tit for tat was an extremely simple principle understood by all the relevant parties. All Mona needed to do was provide a two-way conduit between the experience of mortals and gods (specifically, her experiences) and she could have every juicy hidden truth, every skeleton in the closet she wanted from these secret-seekers. The other inhabitants of Ur-Shushan—the vast majority, in fact—found the Theosophists’ mysterious new smugness a bit off-putting, but most put it down to some inscrutable new ‘breakthrough’ that meant nothing to ordinary people. Little did they know that the moon walked among them... OOC: Creating the theosophic ritual: 4d6k1+3d6k1 12 vs target 9. Domain: 22, Hunger: 10. No Consequence (this was probably a good action to not get a consequence on). Mona grants the Theosophists some divine insight in exchange for mortal secrets. - DP status: Bosyak: 5/5 Mezidec: 3/5 ----- (-1 for tunnel network, +1 for prayer) Solene/Mona: 3/5 ----- (-3 for ritual, +1 for prayer) Sharon: 4/5 Tectamus: 1/2 ----- (-1 for tunnel network) UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 17:55 on Nov 26, 2021 |
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Nov 26, 2021 17:38
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Mezidec – At the borders of the peak, invoking Bosyak. 3/5, Wounds: None Mezidec manifested just outside the territory of the peak, once more bearing the warmth of the mountain within this form as a potential gift. "Bosyak, Herd-of-One. I stand at your borders and ask your hospitality. The peak is yours, the interior of the mountain is mine, but those outside of both our patronage, the Outsiders, are making incursions up the mountain. Normally this would be no concern of mine, but this attempt to spread progress and partake of the bounty of your realm is being done in my name. As I am honour-bound to our agreement and will uphold it to my utmost, I cannot allow this to pass, at least without bringing it before you. What do you desire to happen to these downslope outsiders, currently ignorant of your ways? I accept your rulership of the peak and would lend my strength to yours in this matter as recompense for the use of my name in their mission, in accordance with the rules of hospitality and community." ooc: Hi Bosyak. Looks like I may have accidentally caused the nomads to get colonialism'd. Your territory, your lead, standing by to assist.
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Nov 26, 2021 20:46
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Bosyak – At the borders of the Peak with Mezidec 5/5, Wounds: None Bosyak appeared, sitting on a rock. After a moment, he spoke. "I thank you for your... mmmm... generous gift of warmth." in return, Bosyak opened his hand and sent floating through the air eight identical snowflakes. The probability that even just two would be exactly alike in molecular structure and in appearance, was so minute that it was statistically zero. And while he could, with no trouble, create such things, these were untouched by him. They had been collected. The result of timeless sitting, waiting, watching. He assumed it would be a gift well-received but he didn't know. After all, he barely acknowledged Wealth as a concept and that was one of Mezidec's domains. The Uniter of Kin was in many ways a mystery. But their agreement had stood for a long time. And the Old Ways demanded hospitality. "You are welcome here," Bosyak said. For a while, he sat and thought. Motionless. Silent. Finally, he spoke once more. "If you wish to claim these mortals, bring them into your tunnels. The land they enter is not... mmmm... kind." OOC: Bosyak is not willing to break the territorial agreement with Mezidec and is not asking for assistance Bosyak – Nomadland quote:Circlemaker, I am... afraid. The kings and emperors of the world below always want more. What if one day they want our homes, our yaks, our people? They already burn each other’s cities when they’re angry. What if they burn our shrines too? I don’t think they’ll follow the old rites and manners of hospitality. What should we do? The prayer pricked at Bosyak's heart. It was fearful, yes. But it originated from a place of love. From a mother, looking over her sleeping babes. Twins. Swaddled in yak-fur. He appeared in a flurry of snow outside her yurt, invisible to her husband and her brother-in-law who together stood guard with bows and arrows. He waited until she fell asleep. He grabbed her consciousness and carried it in a horn, like how she herself carried fire as she traveled. He took her deep into wilds, far from her known paths, until he found a snow leopard. It was dragging a mountain goat back to it's lair, to it's two cubs. It was only then that she realized this was more than a dream. That the two cubs were similar to her twins. That this was a message. "Brother Cold?" she asked. "Yes." The goat was dead. But it was almost as large as the leopard so the dragging was difficult. Yet the cat never complained. "Leopards kill," he said, "by crushing the spine. Usually by the... mmmm... neck." "Why are you showing me this?" she asked. "I don't understand." Bosyak snorted, somewhat frustrated that his point wasn't already clear. "It leaves it's children," he said. "It hurts. It returns. Would you do the same?" Far away, her body twitched. "I would do anything for my girls," she said. Anything. A good answer. An answer birthed from a deep love, one that Bosyak could never seem to touch. He knew she was telling the truth. He also knew that he didn't need much from her. Only something small, something infinitesimally simple. He planted in her mind visions of the interlopers, their greed, their covetousness, their disregard for the Old Ways, their threat to her daughters. "So hunt," he said. "Hunt those that do not belong here. And... mmmm... kill them all." And with that, he ripped her soul from her body and begun pouring it into the leopard. His efforts birthing a fearsome snowstorm around them. [OOC: Spending 2DP from the Domain of Storm and 5 from the Hunger for Revenge to turn the human woman Yeshi into a demigod, specifically in the form of a great and terrible leopard. Her physical body will exist but in a state of comatose. The leopard's cubs will be left to starve. She is forbidden to return to her children until the mountain is clear of interlopers -- at least that's the intent. I will accept success with Consequence, if available. quote:Yeshi, Mother Nomad, Peacemaker Tyrannosaurus fucked around with this message at 17:09 on Nov 27, 2021 |
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Nov 27, 2021 08:12
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Mezidec – At the borders of the peak, with Bosyak. 3/5, Wounds: None Mezidec marvelled at the octet of perfect ephemeral crystals, each miraculous in its unlikelihood. Holding out a rock-hewn hand, he caught them in a conceptual tunnel to preserve their frozen state. "You humble me with the generosity of this gift, Guest-Watcher. I hear and acknowledge your will in this matter: It is not that I seek to claim them, but they who seek to claim me. I am the Patron of the Dwellers Within, but they do not dwell within or seek to. Thus, while I will not turn away any who come to their senses and cease this action, I do not actively claim them, but I do want them to learn. That these lands are not kind is a rightful and fitting lesson: If they do not abide by your customs and laws of hospitality, if they do not cherish and uphold the community of your nomads, then they have earned every misfortune that the patience to actually make the progress they pay lip-service to, would have averted." Mezidec called into being a temporary tunnel back to the Heart, and prepared to vacate this manifestation, as before preparing to leave its magmatic core as the source of the gifted radiant heat. "I accept your position. Should you subsequently desire company, service or action, I will heed your call. Be well, Bosyak, and may your people prosper." The light at the end of the tunnel departed. ooc: Message received and understood. Gifts exchanged, offer of a future favor left on the table. Mezidec out.
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Nov 27, 2021 09:09
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Sharon – The River DP: 4/5, Wounds: None It was mail-day at the River. They were not a bureaucratic lot, but a little bit of paperwork still tended to show up. Sharon had Mortimer deal with most of it. "Made a trip through the veil into Chaotic Space. Not a fun time, but I managed. Found the body of our skull-guy. Body's giant, seems to be a Titan. No assault or external malady, cause of death suicide. Only ever heard of Suicide Divines, first time I've seen one myself. Motive as of yet unknown. Vibes: EXTREMELY harsh. Will have to request a Celestial from HQ to help determine all the Planar Consequences of this. Stay safe, everyone. XOXOXO" Sharon nodded at her letter, as if happy with her handiwork, signed all the local gods as recipients, bottled it, and threw it in the River. A copy would soon find its way to all of them. "Done on my end", she said, "How about you, Mortimer?" In silence, the reaper handed his boss a neat stack of papers. It was handwritten, but the writ was neat enough to almost be mistaken for type. ""...Self-Termination Induced Hamartial Dissonance, yeah yeah...", Sharon started skimming the papers, "...and thus recognize the necessity of Knowledge-based Domain structures within..." Her eyes started to glaze over. "Great work, Mortimer!" she just said with a smile, and handed the stack over to a nearby reaper to deliver with their next soul. "Great work all around~" Mortimer, for his part, merely nodded. OOC: Rolling to request professional aid from the Bureaucracy in the form of a Lesser Celestial. Investing 4 DP (from Transitions and Borders to accommodate for the transfer of Divine Essence) and 4 HP (in the form of Lazing About as Sharon has Mortimer ghostwrite the whole-rear end requisition letter) for a total dice pool of 5 DP and 5 HP. Will be forcing this action, if necessary.
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Nov 27, 2021 13:50
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 Teppsera was a good man. Of this, he was justly sure. He loved his city, Acca, as much if not more than he loved his wife and his beautiful and talented twin daughters. He devoted himself to serving both his king and his god, the almighty Mezidec, furnace of holy rage, temperer of cities, uniter of kin. These thoughts were an invincible candle, a flame that shone brighter every time the wind screamed around his heart. This, surely, was his rightful place and duty, here on the high slopes, benevolently looking down upon his home. He could cup the walled city in his hands and feel almost like a god. Where other, lesser missionaries had retreated or deserted, citing crises of faith or the unbearable conditions, Teppsera remained steadfast. He was a beacon of civilisation in this wretched place, and his encampment was meeting its quotas for haematite, lumber, and labourers, and to his delight, his efforts to enlighten the stinking, drunken savages seemed to be taking effect. They’d even stopped claiming their children were being born as leopard cubs! Teppsera did not hear Yeshi tear the head off the closest sentry, or enter the encampment, or crush the necks of two night-watchmen. he did, however, vaguely hear it shred his tent. He was fully awake when he looked into the face of the divine for the first and final time. When he failed to meet his targets the next lunar month, Acca did not bother to send a replacement. The king’s viziers convinced him that it was increasingly uneconomical to do so. The next year a scouting party paid for by his family found the wreckage, but returned empty-handed. . . . The lowland colonists were not the only ones having trouble with snow leopards. Every child born to the nomads during the month after the blizzard that (unknown to them) accompanied Yeshi’s apotheosis was born not as a human, but as a snow leopard, of uncanny growth and rapid maturity. They bounded off into the night as soon as they were able, returning to nomad and missionary encampments or caravans only to hunt their yaks with an almost... human intelligence. Dark words exchanged at Sharys confirmed that they seemed to be led by twins the size of grown men. Few dared speak the deeper truth: the mountain had a new god, however long it might last. OOC: Transforming Yeshi into the leopard: 3d6k1+6d6k1 12 vs target 11. Domain: 14, Hunger: 22. Consequence. Yeshi transforms into a god, who protects the higher slopes with ferocity and drives away the colonists. However, all the children born the month after the Yeshi’s first appearance on the slopes are born as weirdly intelligent leopard cubs that swiftly grow to adulthood and form a small clan that preys on the nomads’ yaks and the missionary encampments alike, led by a pair of twin snow leopards. Yeshi’s human body remains comatose. She will wake up and cease to be a god when she considers her mission complete. See the god list for more details. - There is a wound in the sky. An unfathomable nebula of titan’s blood and primordial chaos dyes the veil of the world all manner of raging hues. Small and distant, invisible in the day, but clear on the darker nights. OOC: Sharon’s Consequence for brute-forcing the passage begins to take effect, appearing as a vivid nebula where she passed and returned through the veil. Solene has trouble seeing it. - Sun-and-moon birds report: the reapers whispered that the nebula appeared not long after Sharon made an improperly brutal passage across the veil of the world, and furthermore that dead mortals reported seeing it in their dying dreams. Meanwhile, the Theosophists are brimming with questions: quote:Mona, Secret-broker: Is the nebula the blood of the vault of heaven in the same way the lunar basins are the blood of the moon? Or is it a gateway to worlds beyond our knowing? -  A little while after Mortimer sent the letter to the Bureaucracy along the River—just long enough to be annoying without being a credible delay—a covered boat passed back down to Sharon’s tributary nexus. A boat that was, now that she had a good view of it, almost imperceptibly fancier than her own, and with elaborately-carved cherry trees rising at the aft and stern. A Celestial stepped out of the covered area of the deck, a thin man wearing a functional yet flawless pale-star blue gown. Brass and glass instruments glittered inside for a moment before he pulled the covering to again. He pulled his garments just a little away from the lapping water with a look of mild distaste, then turned to Sharon and Mortimer: “Yes? My superiors received your request and assigned me to provide you with cosmic guidance, since you, ah, unfortunately lack such sense yourselves. You may call me ‘Celestial Astronomer Haniyu’.” OOC: Summon Haniyu: 5d6k1+5d6k1 11 vs target 11. Domain: 22, Hunger: 15. No Consequence. Sharon summons the Celestial, Haniyu (rules-wise a demigod), to investigate the suicide of the titan. Sharon knows for a fact that ‘Celestial Astronomer’ is not a title bestowed on such Lesser Celestials as he. In any case, he has the following details as given on the discord: quote:
- Tectamus wordlessly continued his work, carving hundreds, thousands, millions of square pictograms by hand in the ever-greater free time he had following the creation of the MTP-STN. This great work was still very much unfinished... but, one day, it would be done, and he could rest easy. OOC: Continue writing: 2d6k1+2d6k1 10 vs target 7. Domain: 11, Hunger: 5. No Consequence. Tectamus continues to work on the text within his Haven, the Pictogram Chamber. - DP status: Bosyak: 4/5 ----- (-2 for demigod, +1 for prayer) Mezidec: 3/5 Solene/Mona: 3/5 Sharon: 0/5 ----- (-4 for demigod) Yeshi: 3/5 ----- (half a god’s DP rounded up (proportionate to time left in Age)) Tectamus: 0/2 ----- (-1 for further writing) Haniyu: 1/2 ----- (half a demigod’s DP rounded up (proportionate to time left in Age)) UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 17:25 on Nov 28, 2021 |
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Nov 27, 2021 17:27
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Mezidec – At the Heart of the Mountain, notifying the other divinities. 3/5, Wounds: None Mezidec sent forth messages via tunnel or appropriate method to each of the other Powers, informing them of the following. "Esteemed ones, it occurs to me that the outer slopes of the mountain, beneath Bosyak's domain, external to mine, far below the orbit of the sisters and before the need for the river, lack a patron and guardian. Bosyak has uplifted Yeshi for the Peak, Solene and I formed Tectamus for the Antimountain. In the same vein, I will create a Warden of the Outer Slopes, tasked with being an exemplar of civility, and of ensuring respect is paid where it is due: towards the Gods, towards our demarcations, towards each culture. As each of us neighbors the region or looks upon the inhabitants, I extend the offer of lending your power to gain influence in the creation of the new warden." ooc: Hey everyone, making a Warden of the Outer Slopes. If anyone wants buy in, let me know.
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Nov 27, 2021 20:09
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Sharon – The River DP: 0/5, Wounds: None Sharon frowned, in the way you might frown if you had smelt it but had not, in fact, dealt it. "Don't even think we have met before, but you meet a Celestial you've met them all. Delightful as ever. " She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just follow my boat, will you? I'll be showing you the route exactly once." OOC: Just ye olde Quick Fluff to state that yeah, I'm showing Haniyu the way to the Titan.
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Nov 27, 2021 21:10
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Solene - The River, with Sharon DP: 3/5 Wounds: None The river was bathed in the warm orange glow of dusk as the sun finished disappearing over the horizon of the mountain. As soon as it vanished, the light flared up again, only this time it came from within the domain of the river. Solene slid through the air, incandescent, her feet hovering slightly above the water. Her stoic face was contorted into a grimace and locks of her hair pulsed free from her hood, flaring brightly before being tucked back into place. “Sharon, where are you?” Solene bellowed. “What have you done to my sky?” “Whuh??” a nearby boat rocked ever so slightly, as Sharon bolted up from her slumber, wearing a strange garment, “I’m awake”, she yawned deeply, “I’m awake.” She scanned her surroundings quizzically, until her eyes met Solene’s. “Oh…” “Yeah…” She scratched her neck awkwardly, “Hi, Solene. Been a bit. Just let me, uh, get changed from my jammies”, she scrambled up from her boat, and with a wave of her hand the strange garments were replaced with her usual robes. “I was actually thinking to confront you about this myself, but seems like you got to me first.” She nodded to the riverside, a sandy beach stretching towards infinity. “Let’s have a walk.” Solene landed on the beach, her bare feet turning the sand to glass. “I have watched over this world for a long, very long time. A small but fine world. Then you arrived, ramming through the void, breaking the boundaries that separated us from… Whatever else is out there, and now, just a short Age after you arrived, you have torn open the sky.” Solene turns around and looks at the nebula, a dark bruise pulsating among the stars. “I don’t know if you have looked at it up there, if you went up to its edge. It’s an ugly gangrenous thing, all frayed edges and dried blood. At the same time scabbed and purulent, it oozes disorder. It feels like raw chaos and uncontrollable power.” ’Lovely visuals there’, thought Sharon, but did not yet say anything. Solene turned her solar gaze back to Sharon. “I wanted to give you the benefit of doubt, but I feel like I have been made a fool. How could you have been this reckless? You hail from another world, another grander, more central part of existence, but that does not allow you to treat this place as insignificant. The mountain is not a mystery waiting to be cracked open.” Sharon was silent for a bit, mulling over her answer. “You’re right, of course”, she finally said, “Fundamentally, this place is your home, and I merely a visitor. Poor form to just kinda rip a tear through the veil when it’s not even your real home”, as far as she even had such a thing… “Especially since the night sky here was so pretty before. Would much prefer it without that ugly thing.” She sighed. “As per why I did it? Would’ve been far safer to take the time and stabilize the local space before investigating, but it would’ve likely taken the whole Age for me to do that, and…” “We’re running out of time.” “Don’t ask me how I know it, and don’t ask me what specific form that ‘running out of time’ will entail when it happens. The fact that I can’t yet point at a singular reason or outcome is driving me nuts too, and I’m focusing on this investigation because it seems like the only credible lead. But the fact that we’re running out of time, that I’m sure about. It’s a very distinct feeling when you’re a Death Goddess.” “So I guess the reason I’m rushing is because I feel it will be even worse if I can’t figure this out in time. Whatever that means.” “Once more you ask me to trust you, and take you at your word. But what I see is that you have gambled the integrity and future of a whole world on a hunch, a gut-feeling. Instead of proceeding cautiously, researching and investigating, you took a shortcut through the fabric of space, the consequence of which is now hanging above us, both literally and figuratively. You cannot save this world -- from whatever it is you are afraid of -- if you destroy it.” Solene looks back across the beach, dotted by glass footprints. “And now you have brought yet another outsider to our ecosystem. I can only wonder why you did not do this before wounding the world, and I can only hope they prove less destructive than you have. If they do, maybe you can undo the harm you have done. Until then I cannot consider you as a friend.” Sharon glanced to the side. There was a sad smile on her face, “Reducing the insight of my chief Domain to a mere hunch is something I might consider rude, but in these circumstances, I suppose I can’t really blame you. And besides, arguing about that won’t get us anywhere.” “As per Haniyu”, Sharon rubbed her temple, as if trying to exorcise a sudden headache, “Well, he would not have helped with the whole bit of actually finding the Titan. Celestials don’t engage in manual work like that. They see it as something below themselves.” “But… if you’re worried about the tear, he might be the God to ask. Thing is, he’s here to investigate the Titan and the Bureaucracy’s concerns about this World first and foremost, so expecting him to put efforts into side tasks like that is, well… I would not bet on that. He might give some general advice on the thing, but taken that he barely treats me with respect, and only does that much to begin with because he’s obligated to, I would not expect a whole lot. Celestials in general are not very well disposed towards ‘local’ gods...” Sharon sighed, and looked upwards. Even here, at the River, the tear could be seen. “Regardless, it doesn’t seem like a realm-ending wound to me, even I tend to avoid screw-ups that major. But it's definitely unsightly, and it could get worse.” “Tell you what. I think I should be able to squeeze in some extra juice this Age, still, if I’m diligent with prayers and stuff. I have some liminal powers in my portfolio, so I’ll try and use that to stitch the thing together. Does that sound acceptable to you?” Solene cast her eyes downward, somewhat chastised. It hurt her to be angry, to be confrontational towards a fellow deity. It used to be so easy to get along with Bosyak and Mezidec. Ruling above, atop and inside the mountain. She sighs. Her wrath had burned bright and short. “I do wonder why you seem so eager to work with the Bureaucracy, they don’t care for you and you clearly do not hold them in high regard. And from what you say they do not deserve it. Unhelpful, slow, proud and even scheming. I think I even prefer recklessness to cold bureaucratic indifference.” Solene also looks back at the wound. “As for your proposal, Mona and I am planning to probe the wound, clean it, dress it and contain it as much as I can, though unlike you my powers are ill-suited to the task. I would accept your help, I hope this could be an opportunity for you to prove your good intentions.” “I suppose it’s typical for us Gods to get stuck in our ways, and despite a lot of the leading echelons being full of themselves, it’s not the worst place. And some of the Gods back home are legitimately great”, her smile seemed to have gotten some of its pep back, “I’ll have to tell you about Julia sometime, this old friend of mine who made it into a Yama, and then proceeded to sacrifice like most of her godhead to help some Gods she’d only known for a few hundred years on her first field job. Didn’t even make it a thousand years as a God before demotion, but she made those years count.” She laughed a bit. “Better not jinx it though. How about nobody ends up as a heroic sacrifice this time around, eh? Anyways, I’ll try and consolidate my power, and you just call me when you’re ready to fix this thing.” “Because despite being convinced that it was necessary, the thing’s still my mess. And yeah, I know I’m a messy God, everyone knows that about old Sharon, but I do try to not make my messes into other peoples’ messes, and that’s squarely on me. So I’ll definitely help, and that’s a promise.” Solene gave a brief, considering nod. With a soft impulsion she started rising from the beach, hung there for a while and then was gone in a bright streak across the River’s conceptual sky. Once more she had met with Sharon and once more she left the meeting full of questions, uncertain of her feelings concerning the death goddess. Fluff for now, the action will follow in due time Fathis Munk fucked around with this message at 21:35 on Nov 27, 2021 |
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Nov 27, 2021 21:32
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Mona - Ur-Shushan DP: 3/5 Wounds: None Mona is still considering what to tell the Theosophists as she breaks through the surface of the moon basin. She does not emerge fully, but instead floats on the surface. Lately she is saving as much of her energy as possible until Solene and her figure out what to do about the wound. The mortals have noticed that the moon never waned below a half-crescent over the past months. "It is a gateway yes." She says, pausing briefly. "If a rusty hole in a helmet is a gateway. It is a rusty patch in the shell of the world and just like a rusty hole in a helmet, it is only dangerous if you go to battle without mending it. The world is not at battle but we will still mend the hole, no one enjoys rain falling through the hole in their helmet." --- Mona - Conceptually in the Heart of the Mountain "Hello Mezidec. Solene and I have observed the conflict on the mountain's flank with much grief and consternation. The mortals are walking a dark and dangerous path and I firmly believe they need us to steer them away from it. But," Mona added, embarrassed, "I am afraid I cannot help you as much as I would like to. The wound in the firmament is occupying my time and devouring my thoughts. It would feel irresponsible to commit much of my power to assist you, though I will offer you what I can spare. Tectamus has been a great source of joy to Solene, I hope you will be as successful with this new one." Offering to contribute 1 DP via Guidance and one HP via Unity
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Nov 27, 2021 22:00
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Sharon – The River DP: 0/5, Wounds: None An unlikely system of crevices on the Mountain opened up to allow for the rolling, bouncing passage of a bottle, making its way all the way to the Heart, where it dropped from the ceiling with a spin, and dropped on a plinth in a highly unlikely, upright position. Inside, a letter. "Hi, Mezidec! As a Death Goddess, it's generally frowned upon for me to directly intervene when mortals get murdering each other. Which is why I really love your plan because it helps with all that whilst still following the letter of my obligations. I want to help out, I really do, I even have relevant Domains for that! Which is why it really sucks that I kinda accidentally tore a giant wound on the sky during my investigation and I got to help the twins fix my mess. I'd be free next Age, but yeah, I know that mortals can do a lot of damage in that sort of time frame, so I get why you probably don't want to wait on this. Regardless, I hope you understand. Best wishes, Sharon~" OOC: Just some fluff responding to Mez.
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Nov 28, 2021 15:33
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Bosyak – the Peak 4/5, Wounds: None Bosyak was staring off into white nothingness when Mezidec's call came. He gave a slow blink. Neither of them claimed the Outer Slopes. Why did Mezidec care about it now? "Seems... mmmm... Irrelevant." He brushed aside the portal with a flick of his hand. Still... He snorted. So much death. And Sharon hadn't even noticed! Did she even care? Everything was a mystery and Bosyak was in a foul mood over all of it. "Mmmm, he grumbled to himself. OOC: Contributing 2 points from the Hunger for Recompense to Mezidec's plan. After all, righteous though his actions were, those that died WERE operating in Mezidec's name... Tyrannosaurus fucked around with this message at 02:06 on Nov 29, 2021 |
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Nov 28, 2021 16:38
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Mezidec – At the Heart of the Mountain, creating a new Warden with input from Mona and Bosyak, responding to Sharon. 3/5 > 0/5, Wounds: None Mezidec touched the bottle and altered its contents, sending it back down the tunnel that defined its existence in space and time to reach its originator. He spake through the conceptual tunnel that permitted Mona's partial presence, the words writing themselves on the bottle message as he did so. "Celestial Sisters, Great Reaper, it is right and fitting that you set your energies to resolving the wound in the sky, and thus I lend my approbation and moral support to your endeavour as you approve of mine. May we both meet with success and may our world be better for it. Mona, I graciously accept your aid and shall make best use of it." Another dismissal from the Herd-of-One. No, not quite a dismissal. An underlying undercurrent, a desire, a divine desire for the scales to be balanced and weregild paid. To acknowledge it through words would be to spurn it: Instead Mezidec reached out and drew it in to the foundation of the new creation. Restitution would be made. Respect would be given. Around that core concept, Mezidec wove in the substance of the surface, just as He was of the mountain and Tectamus of the Antimountain. Mona's contribution, Guidance and Unity, the Bringing Together and the Leading in the Right Ways, imbued that core as well, all the original, native powers of the Mountain and watchful of it united in their concern for those of the outer slopes. "Arise, Warden of the Outer Slopes. Arise, Bergeros. Arise, our child." ooc: Putting forward 3DP in addition to Mona's 1DP and 1 Hunger, and Bosyak's 2 hunger, on top of the base 1 of each, for the creation of Bergeros, Warden of the Outer Slopes. Symbol, Tectamus inverted with the two dots moved from the centre line to the top corners adjacent to the peak, to acknowledge the contributions of Bosyak and Mona looking down upon the slopes of the mountain, in whichever color seems fitting. '/\' Domains: Civility (Treating others the right way, getting along with others despite differences, acknowledging as valid the ways and rituals of all societies, seeking to learn what is there than rudely impose from without), Respect (Respecting the full pantheon of Gods, the boundaries of the mountain, the inherent value of sentient life whatever form it may take and whatever customs and traditions they may have) The Outer Slopes of the Mountain (Those that dwell without, everywhere beneath the Peak and external to the mountain) Hungers: Fairness (All should be treated justly regardless of origin, where magnanimity, unity and recompense meet), Restitution (Wrongs should be set to right, debts from the one responsible made good with the wronged party, the intersection of Recompense and Recognition) Education (Learn from your mistakes, learn from those around you, do not impose without first understanding and having a firm grasp of the subject matter, the junction of Unity and Progress) *** Mezidec – At the Heart of the Mountain, reaching out to Tectamus near the Pictogram Chamber. Weary and drained, Mezidec's thoughts turned to his first creation, and he opened up a tunnel to just outside the Pictogram Chamber. "Tectamus, my child, In you I am well pleased. You have carried out your duties with diligence and dedication, but are not merely defined by them. You are a great source of joy to Solene as well. I have sensed your acts of creation, in the construction of your haven here. Now, respecting your independence and autonomy, I request your permission, and will accept your refusal should you not wish to give it. May I be allowed to see what you have wrought?" OOC: A little parent/child/co-worker bonding, with curiosity mixed in.
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Nov 28, 2021 19:22
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Haniyu hmphed as if to say I barely need you to show me the way once, and spent most of the journey fiddling with his instruments and muttering about ‘azimuth’ this and ‘concordance’ that while taking readings of the surrounding sea-and-star-scape. It took the sight of the titan’s neck-stump to stir him, looming as it did out of eigengrau mists like primeval cliffs. “This is a rather, ah, larger job than I was anticipating, but I already have a few hypotheses I’d like to test, and I don’t expect it’ll take more than, oh, a century, two at the most, to provide some results.” He began pulling out all manner of arcane scrolls and sextants from the covered deck, paused, and looked over his shoulder. “Of course, I’ll copy you in to my report to the Bureaucracy. You don’t need to stay here. I’m sure you have... things to do that are of much greater... personal interest to you than engaging in celestial science.” OOC: Haniyu’s gonna work on the titan corpse situation. He’ll keep you posted. No, really, you can go now. You both have important work to do, after all, though you surely understand that his work is slightly more important... - A bottle bobbed up to her boat on the conceptual waves of the void beyond void. It must’ve gotten caught in the eddies of foreclosed possibilities along the River, and ended up out in empty space. The message inside read: quote:"Lady Sharon, I am a merchant, dealing in some of the finest drinks that are produced, that I do enjoy selling to those within the mountain for their gold. Yet there are so few ways to those that dwell within, and the city near the closest monastery demands a heavy toll to access it that I cannot pay. Might you tell me of a hidden entrance? I promise to honor your name within the mountain as without, and name some of my finest vintages after you." -  The functional yet flawless aquamarine robes, neither understated nor regal… The radiant eyes that command and project respect in equal measure... The self-assured mien of someone who has nothing to prove... Here he was: the ultimate diplomat and educator, born not to rule, but to counsel, contain, and advance. A walking Promethean beacon, a gift that gives itself. A true third party, beholden to no ruler or popular will, only his ideals. Only time would tell if he could cleave to those ideals in practice, or if his encounters with the many and diverse people of the outer mountain would smudge his point of view. OOC: Creating the demigod Bergeros: 5d6k1+4d6k1 12 vs target 11. Domain: 19, Hunger: 14. No Consequence. Mezidec, Mona, and Bosyak succeed in creating a new demigod: Bergeros, Warden of the Outer Slopes. Details, as per creation post above: quote:
- The golem stood at the threshold of his haven... and stood aside, non-committally gesturing into the glimmer-dark void. Here he spent so many of his days: An enormous spherical chamber the size of the Heart itself, enclosing another chamber, enclosing yet another... each like an intricately-carved geode wrapped, impossibly, round another geode, and so on. Tectamus’ eye-lights guided the way over bridges and around ledges leading ever-inward on a truly labyrinthine path. He’d ensured any visitor would pass every single pictogram in one interrupted canvas. And then—nothing. The bridge to the next sphere inward ended at a blank stone wall, unfinished streams of pictograms slowly creeping towards it. The great work was yet unfinished, after all. How would mortals describe it? If they could read it, and knew it even existed, some would say “fantastic!” or “sublime!”, and others would call it “alien” or “excruciatingly boring”. How else would one describe the most elaborate and inscrutably divine work of poetry in the known world? It recounted with reverence the sempiternal seasons of an underworld without heat or light. Here, a sympathetic account of the drip-by-drip formation of a parade of stalagmites. There, a decade of grief for a lost and lonely miner, too far gone to find their way home even with his aid. Implicit in every verse, an exaltation of solitude. To know others is to suffer their resentment or their passing, and yet, to know is your duty. Tectamus gently, but firmly, nudged his father-god out of the way and resumed his work. OOC: Tectamus’ lifework is the creation of what he plans to be a five-century-long work of epic (in scale) poetry carved into the walls of an intricately-pathed polyspherical void in the undermountain: this is his Haven, the Pictogram Chamber. - DP status: Bosyak: 4/5 Mezidec: 0/5 ----- (-3 for demigod) Solene/Mona: 3/5 ----- (-1 for demigod) Sharon: 0/5 Yeshi: 3/5 Tectamus: 0/2 Haniyu: 1/2 Bergeros: 1/2 (half a demigod’s DP rounded up (proportionate to time left in Age))
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Nov 29, 2021 01:57
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Bosyak – the Peak 4/5, Wounds: None He was still in a foul mood when another prayer reached him. quote:Brother Yak, these lands are harsh and we offer no complains but, recently, our lives have become harsher. There are great leopards about. Unnatural in size and ferocity. Please, protect my animals. Protect my children. Protect my wife. Protect me! Bosyak snorted. Were he a God of more words, he might have said, "But are there any interlopers?" Or perhaps, "Everyone is a critic." But he wasn't. He said nothing. He simply shook his head, knocking the accumulated snow off his horns, and stood up. He stomped the icy ground, sending a tremor down the slopes, forcing his will into existence. Yeshi's yurt, immobile since her transformation -- her devoted, loving husband was unwilling to move her comatose body-- would become another shrine. One where the nomads could honor her work. And then he sat back down. He was silent for a long time. As Solene disappeared on the horizon and her sister came up from the other side, he finally spoke. "That's... mmmm... four," he said to himself. "Halfway there." OOC: Answering a prayer but not earning extra points since it was not assigned by UnCO3. Spending 2 points from the Domain of Hearth & Hospitality and 2 points from the Hunger for Recompense to create a shrine of Yeshi's yurt. After all, should the mortals not thank their protector? Perhaps that would get them to at least stop complaining...
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Nov 29, 2021 02:29
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Sharon – Somewhere on the Slopes DP: 0/5, Wounds: None "You know, you weren't lying, this stuff actually is pretty good", the merchant, startled, turned around to see a women sampling his goods on the back of the cart, "Haha, sorry, kinda helped myself there", her laugh was resonant and clear, "Chose to come by myself this time around. Cool prayer by the way, it's pretty rare for people to approach me in the 'Granter of Passage' way. The whole Death thing tends to overshadow the rest of my portfolio. Wonder why that is", she laughed again. "As per your actual prayer, ummm, lessssseee", she rummaged around in her robes until she found a slightly crumbled piece of paper, "Right, you're a merchant", there was a slightly incredulous tinge to her voice as she spoke, "who deals in fine drinks but somehow cannot afford tolls necessary to reach a particular market, and wants a secret route to use instead", she raised an eyebrow, though clearly more amused than accusatory. "Now, even if you're a smuggler, I don't actually care in and of itself. Laws of mortals mean little to me, and sometimes greedy hierarchs deserve to be sneaked around. And, hell, it's not like you guys even have proper nation states with rigid borders anyway, so going a hidden route is probably not even technically in violation of anything. But again, I don't really consider myself a technicality-minded Divinity." She grinned, and took another swig. "What matters to me is whether or not you're actually just trying to ply your trade and sell drinks to the thirsty dwellers of the mountain interior, or if you're planning to, as I like to call it, start some poo poo. Toll booths of the City States of the outer slopes usually aren't of grand interest to Mezidec, so me helping to divert some well-intentioned traders to his domain shouldn't ruffle feathers. But if you're meaning to start some sort of monopolistic, abusive smuggling ring based on secret paths I impart, well, whooh, that would be straight rude, now wouldn't it?" "Too bad we can't know which one it is, unless we can somehow see what your heart holds." She handed the man a cup filled with wine. "Thankfully I just thought of a cool rite. Might even make it a whole thing if I can get some of the lesser mountain gods on board. Now, come on, tip the cup overboard." "Pour your heart out!" ------------- Sharon – The River Again, Sharon was writing. This time a letter assigned to Bergeros, the newborn demigod. "Hi, Bergeros! We haven't actually talked in person, been busy this Age, but I just thought of a cool rite to grant peaceful passage to people who just want to ply their trades or live their lives or are just otherwise sympathetic, whilst excluding troublemakers and meddlers and other such people who'll just have to continue to work for that stuff on their own. My thinking was, I can grant the Safe Passage since that is my thing, and you can provide the vibe checking since you know all about the local customs and what would be considered proper hereabouts. A bit low on juice this Age personally so I'll have to catch some R&R before I'll be ready to commit, and I think you too have some more immediate concerns what with all the conflict up in there, but tell me if you're interested~ With love, Your friendly neighborhood Reaper, Sharon." OOC: Answering a prayer. Taking no action, but poking at Bergeros for an interest check for a potential joint project later on. Theantero fucked around with this message at 14:49 on Nov 29, 2021 |
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Nov 29, 2021 14:37
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When the going gets tough, the tough stick together. Thus the family of Yeshi received gifts given freely from their fellow nomads along the path; they did not have to move with the same current that motivated the rest, and instead could rest easy and care for her comatose body. Her husband grew old, her mother and father died, but they wanted for nothing a nomad could require. For the other nomads’ part, the gifts had their own meaning: thanks for a protector, but also for the strength and resilience to keep her newfound children away from their yaks and yurts. OOC: Creating a shrine at Yeshi's yurt: 3d6k1+3d6k1 11 vs target 7. Domain: 13, Hunger: 11. No Consequence. Bosyak succeeds in adding a new shrine to the nomads’ itinerary, the shrine of Yeshiak, where they come to give thanks and pray, in a similar way as they do for Bosyak, for the strength to withstand the suffering she causes. - A well-groomed pigeon alights on Sharon’s shoulder. Dear Madam Reaper, I would be delighted to assist you in this matter! Of course, the welfare of those within the mountain is my first-father’s concern, but smoothing over the rough relations at the border is very much mine. Please inform me at once when you are ready to follow through on your proposal. As you note, I am unfortunately busy at this time, but I anticipate a freer schedule in the not-too-distant future. Your fellow servant, Bergeros de la Montagne P.S. In future, it may please you to simply tie the letter to this messenger’s leg; it will return to me posthaste. Much safer than relying on my being near a river to avoid delays in our communications! - P.P.S. You may find enclosed some key details from my full report, following my diplomatic tour of the outer slopes this past decade: What followed was a relatively comprehensive description of the political status and relations of the city-states, sent to (almost) all the divines. OOC: Diplomatic visits in the lowlands: 2d6k1+1d6k1 7 vs target 7. Domain: 11, Hunger: 1. No Consequence. Bergeros conducts a series of diplomatic visits to the lowland cities and villages, balming a growing frustration that many of them have with the gods (mostly Mezidec) while developing an understanding of their cultures. Tensions cool a little (with most of the wars having ended already), but still simmer. Some colonisation efforts continue. Current state of affairs:
Literacy is improving slowly, but still by and large a tool of power. Technology relies on bronze, iron, wood, leather, and rope. Food is provided by farms, fishing, and some hunting, with the latter two generally feeding the wealthy within the cities and the inhabitants of the villages that actually do the work. They also have primitive explosives. Education is largely done by private tutors or through apprenticeships. - Were you in Acca the night the dream died? This is what they asked in Acca after that cold night when the whole city lost all of its grander desires. Conquest, empire, all sorts of world-spanning ambitions—gone in a single night. From then on, its people lived rote lives of humdrum acts and experiences. They would never again threaten the villages and nomads high on the mountain. If only they knew the question they should’ve asked was: Were you in Acca the night the beast ate the city whole? For that is what Yeshi did, dragging the dream-shades of its inhabitants—driven by ambition, greed, and contempt—into a waking nightmare. Never again would the people of the living city dream: of glory, of victory, of wealth, of the subjugation of others to their desires. Their children’s children’s children might, one day, but that was a problem for another Age. . . . Those dreams, however, were not digested, incorporated into the body of the beast-god. Instead, they awoke as shades of their former selves, trapped in the city: all their ambition and greed had been torn from their bodies into the maw of the beast-god, in a city of empty houses, watching windows, and ethereal streets. The mighty gates of the palace were shut up, and no amount of desperate scrabbling could break through. The equally mighty walls and gates of the city itself were equally impenetrable, though some of the shades reached the rooftops and saw what lay beyond: nothing. Nothing. Nothing. A pitch-black vault... the only thing breaking the horizon was a row of distant snow-capped hills across the void, gleaming white, strangely reflected by another row of hills in the sky. There was no difference between rich and poor any more. To the dream-shades’ mounting terror, they had become insubstantial. Wealth and weapons alike slipped through their fingers. At the same time, towering, frost-cloaked snow-leopards stalked them through the streets. Their silent footfalls were accompanied by the screams of their prey. Never could the dream-shades rest, always fleeing and hiding, never able to fully trust one another, always seeking an advantage over everyone else. They made easy pickings for those beasts with eyes sharp as knives and claws sharper still. Each mortal shade soon discovered, to their immediate relief and following despair, that death was no escape. All those the leopards ate reawakened the next... day? It was hard to tell the time. Any who managed to jump over the city walls from nearby rooftops, leaping into the void, would fall from the black sky and break their bodies upon the clay roof tiles or stone walkways. They, too, would reawaken the day after they died. If they were lucky, that was the day after they jumped. The only sign of true life any of those shades saw in the desolate city was a woman, in strange fur-lined garb, who walked among the beasts, speaking gently and addressing them with diminutive names. Some said they saw the woman riding one of the leopards as it bounded off the city wall in a single great leap to a hilltop in the void. One particularly far-sighted person claimed she saw a tent nestled under the top of that hill. By her description, the more worldly shades—mostly those involved in the doomed colonial surge up the mountain—recognised it as one of the nomads’ shelters. A yurt, they called them. The dream-shades slowly came to the conclusion that this investigation and speculation was hopeless. The woman either didn’t notice or didn’t care for them, only the monsters. She never looked their way or turned at their call, their begging and pleading. Eventually she became just another ghostly feature of the nightmare. Here was her vengeance, her haven, her boon of life-after-life for the faithful leopards born at her apotheosis: the Mercy of the Maw. OOC: Devour: 4d6k1+4d6k1 12 vs target 11. Domain: 18, Hunger: 18. No Consequence, by the skin of her teeth. Yeshi devours the dreams of the city of Acca, terrorising its people and creating her Haven: the Mercy of the Maw. Here, the dream-shades of the residents of Acca wander eternally as prey for the souls of Yeshi’s dead followers, the supernatural snow leopards. In the ‘real’ world, it’s as if they’ve lost their ambitions. It’ll be a long time before this grand city can threaten the nomads again. - A paper lantern drifted past Sharon’s boat, giving off an unusual amount of scented smoke. Pale stars flickered in the rising cloud. With some difficulty, she could interpret the following message from those shifting constellations: For the eyes of the august company of the Celestial Bureaucracy, and to whomever else it may concern by virtue of their situational authority on this matter, it may please you to know that the appraisal of the recently-identified Titanic Self-Termination Induced Hamartial Dissonance, located by the reaper-spirit ‘Sharon’, is now complete by my hand. I have provided the following parametric overview and stability analysis for your consideration: The message continued with a long list of tedious measurements of the planar dynamics of the corpse and the mountain, all ‘pearlescent instability’ this and ‘chronological pragmata’ that. Nowhere did the Lesser Celestial actually explain his working plan for doing more than just appraising the situation as-is. Sharon got the feeling the message wasn’t written for her, but solely for other Celestials who might get a kick out of devising their own over-complicated solutions to the problem at hand. That problem being: how to divine knowledge of the past(?), when that past(?) concerns a being so inwardly vast as to effectively enshrine its own Akashic records parallel to the common history of the universe. OOC: Apprise the situation: 2d6k1+4d6k1 11 vs target 11. Domain: 8, Hunger: 19. Consequence, as yet unrevealed. Haniyu has finished his appraisal of the situation and maybe developed a plan for accessing the history of a titan. - DP status: Bosyak: 2/5 ----- (-2 for shrine) Mezidec: 0/5 Solene/Mona: 3/5 Sharon: 1/5 ----- (+1 for prayer) Yeshi: 0/5 ----- (-3 for Haven/terror) Tectamus: 0/2 Haniyu: 0/2 ----- (-1 for appraising the situation) Bergeros: 0/2 ----- (-1 for diplomatic visits) UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 18:52 on Nov 29, 2021 |
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Nov 29, 2021 17:38
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A dialogue between Mezidec and Sharon, at the River A communication tunnel passed through conceptual space, opening beside Sharon’s haven. “I bid you greetings, Reaper. You left an open invitation to visit. I would like to avail myself of it.” “Sure”, Sharon’s voice echoed through the tunnel, “Feel free to come whenever! We probably should have a chat anyway.” The tunnel irised open, expelling marble dust that shaped itself into a manifestation of the Kindly Shelter. He nodded to his gracious host and began, “You came here because this place, our realm, was anomalous, potentially unstable. That and souls for the river, but it is the former that concerns me. We here are in and around the skull of an ancient, self-annihilating Titan. You came from outside, from beyond. This is not your first world.” “That is correct”, Sharon answered with a nod, “To be specific, we tend to the souls of the dead because unprocessed Souls are one of the main drivers of planar instability, at least according to the dogma of the Celestials. The fact that your World, which in our terms is a rather small one, has existed this long in a space that is rather tumultuous and lacking in soul processing without ever dissolving into the Chaotic Space around it raised eyebrows at home”, Sharon scratched her cheek, as if in thought, “Imagine if you had a small piece of table salt that you added to a hot pan of water that was being furiously stirred, but it just wouldn’t dissolve. It’s sort of like that.” “And yeah”, she smiled, almost in a forlorn way, “This is not my first World. Not by a long shot. Usually I’m not the one in charge, and largely barred from direct Divine action to begin with unless it’s like, an emergency. My main job usually is to show the ropes to newbies and offer support while they still need it, and then leave after they get their bearings. It’s rare for me to spend more than a millennia in one place.” Mezidec listened, nodding as she spake truth. “So, this is an exception. Here you are in full divine array, the one in charge. Why is that the case, here and now?” Again, she nodded, “Well, the official reason, as I think I’ve already told you, was because the Yama who was supposed to be in charge of processing here sacrificed a lot of her Domains on her last assignment to help save the locals from an Apocalypse caused by Titanic action. I was there by the way, and I maintain she did the right thing. The Bureaucracy did not see it that way though, so she is currently doing remedial duties until she is granted her full Divinity back. Therefore, without a Yama free to take charge of processing the souls of this World on site, they had to send me to ship the souls back to HQ instead.” She frowned, “Though as was pointed out by the twins during our last meet, this seems pretty convenient, no? How a Reaper like me was sent to represent us on this World that just so happens to be situated on the remains of a dead Titan. It’s pretty suspicious to me too, especially since I’ve got this certainty that we are swiftly running towards some form of conclusion. But if they have some conspiratorial angle, I sure can’t figure out what it could possibly be.” “Here we get to the gem in the geode, so to speak,” replied the light at the end of the tunnel. “Titanic action. The end of a world. Divinity sacrificed to save the locals. And here, something that rarely accepts death easily, but that ended itself kalpa ago, to which a Reaper has now been sent. An exception, an emergency, the ‘something terrible’ we both felt. We are in the dark about their angle, if any, but what brings me here is the thought: If this world will end, if the unfinished business concludes… why don’t we prepare for that? Your friend’s sacrifice, the stripping of her divine nature to fuel an emergency evacuation. A huge burst of power to try and ensure a result at great cost. The thought occurs we could set aside some power over time to avert the need for something so cataclysmic, so tragic. We could ready ourselves now for any kind of world ending outcome, and ensure that everyone, every mortal, every god, every enduring creation has a way out. An escape tunnel.” A mischievous glimmer appeared in Sharon’s eye, “Oh, they did an ark last time. So yes, I suppose there is precedent for all that working out. If, indeed, the terrible outcome we’ve felt is actually a proper Apocalypse. I still need to find out more before I can say for certain.” “Regardless, it is a noble endeavor, and I will make an attempt to help out. When it comes to that.” Mezidec’s dust-formed self offered a smile, marble-fragment eyes catching the light just so. “Then we are in accord. The biggest issue from my end is where we could take everyone, hence the need to get you on board in particular. We have plumbed a reverse umbilicus from our world to your courts, so the underlying principles are sound, but we need somewhere empty that could receive everyone. I am at a low ebb following the creation of the second warden, but this is not a short term, small scale project. Now, setting all that aside for the time being, was there another matter you wished to address?” Sharon nodded, “Finding an actual place to go to is definitely important, but there are also other issues. For example, remember that our project with the River did not actually create it, merely widened a path that was already cleared by the Wave Rake to support the mass transit of souls. A realmbreaker is no simple machine, but maybe the detritus can still be salvaged enough for it to be rebuilt, and I did give Mona its entire technical library…” She frowned. “And then there is obviously the issue of getting everybody on board. Bosyak is the God of the Peak. Where would he go if the Peak is no more?” She ran her fingers through her hair. “…I really should meet up with him, too. Haven’t done that this whole age. Been too busy with the investigation, making conceptual space for Haniyu’s essence, and my day job.” “But uh, no, I don’t really have much more than that to say, other than I’m booked for the rest of the Age too, what with the wound in the sky I have to help the Twins with.” “Good luck with that, by the by. It may be outside my purview, with the possible exception of rescinding the tunnel nature of the breach, but it seems a thing worth doing.” Mezidec paused, looking towards the river. “You know, the thought occurs that it may not be the realmbreaker that we need to repurpose. We already have a breach and passage, and if all this ends somehow, there would no longer be a need to ferry deceased souls. Something to muse upon in the ages to come. In any case, my regards to Bosyak when you see him. If you have further need of me, you know where to reach me.” “Right”, Sharon replied with a faint smile, “I’ll keep that in mind. And thanks for dropping by.”
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Nov 29, 2021 19:02
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Solene and Mona - The Celestial Path DP: 3 -> 0 Wounds: none It is a nice day in Ur-Shushan, Apollonia is lazing about in the courtyard of the Sophistorium. She is lying on the edge of the moon basin the building was erected around, taking in Solene's warm light. Suddenly, water starts creeping up the leg dangling inside the basin. She is torn from her daydreaming and shoots upright. Swinging her now soaked sandal out of the basin, she looks at the rising water level, then peers up at the sky. And there she can see a dark shape slowly creeping across Solene's. Night suddenly falls over the mountain, as Mona blots out her sister's light. --- "This is... strange." Mona and Solene say with the same voice, then wonder why they are talking aloud. Mona has given Solene her veil to dim the light and now both peer into the darkness, towards the slowly pulsing wound. They exchange a glance, uncertain about what to do next. Curious Mona is the first to move, she takes one decisive step off the Path and onto the vault of the sky. She cannot remember when she last stepped off the Path. She turns around and holds out her hand, Solene takes her sister's hand, breathes in sharply, closes her eyes and joins her sister off the Path. Hand in hand, the two sisters walk to the very edge of the wound, a ghastly hole in the fabric of the world. From its ragged edges stream impossible colours, unnatural energies and alien feelings. The wound has to be contained, cleaned and hidden from the mortals. It itched in the back of Solene and Mona's mind and they know that if it was not this far and small, it would have long since have shattered the minds of every mortal on the surface of the mountain. No point in putting it off any longer. Solene removes the veil of night and hands it back to her sister, then she channels her light into the bleeding edge of the world, hoping that the energy and warmth will help the fabric mend. Mona walks around the wound, tearing strips off the veil and bandaging the wound as best as she can, cleaning and dressing it. OOC: this is the big one! The sisters are going to do everything in their power to try and fix the wound or at least contain it. Using Light and Secret domains and dumping all my DP, adding one HP for the Unity hunger for a total of 4 domain dice, 2 hunger. No pushing through with consequences, the sister's are as careful as they can, first: do no harm. The eclipse light show on the surface makes it obvious to everyone that stuff is going down up above, feel free to chip in if you feel like it!
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Nov 29, 2021 22:44
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Sharon – (Off) The Celestial Path DP: 1/5, Wounds: None "Hi there, girls", it was Sharon on her boat, scythe leaning against her shoulder and an ethereal paper lantern hanging off the bow, "Now don't take this the wrong way, but from a seasoned traveler's perspective your step seems awfully unsteady. I'll guide you, if you don't mind." The boat came to a stop near where Mona was tending to the wound. Sharon knelt down where she was working, inspecting the bandages and the stitches. "Now", she spoke after a while, "This is not exactly my most central Domain, buuut", she stuck out her tongue from the corner of her mouth and furrowed her brow, as if concentrating, and then slowly moved her palm across a section that had already been neatly mended. When the hand had crossed, it was if there had never been a wound at all. "Oh, good! It works~", she said in a chipper tone, "Though..." She straightened her back again, and gazed to the distance, where the wound stretched out to the unfathomable distance. Her hair was swaying gently in the night wind. "We do have our work cut out for us." OOC: Helping Solene and Mona with their action to mend the wound in the sky. 1 DP (Domains of Transitions to help the twins move about in unfamiliar territory, and Borders to help diffuse and close the wound itself). Also adding 1 HP (in the form of Happy Endings because I Got To Make Things Right)
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Nov 29, 2021 23:07
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Mezidec – At the Heart of the Mountain, witnessing Solene and Mona in eclipse. DP: 0/5, Wounds: None An observational tunnel, barely a pinprick but angled just so, witnessed the celestial conjunction and the hole in the sky. Deep within the mountain at the Heart, The Generosity of the Depths, exhausted as he was, rankled about lacking the wherewithal to aid in this task. Still, he wished them well, and he wished them success, and watched with great interest. The wishes of a God are no small thing, however. Backed by the magnanimity of the Enricher, some wisps, some traces of power did progress towards the Sisters, bolstering their efforts if only fractionally. ooc: Mezidec has nothing to give but good wishes and desire for their success, that magnanimity-fuelled desire manifesting as 1 point of hunger towards the task.
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Nov 29, 2021 23:12
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Bosyak – the Peak, with Sharon 2/5, Wounds: None A blizzard swept the Peak, rendering visibility essentially zero. After all, it was one thing to have Solene and Mona occasionally above him. It was entirely another for both of them to be up there together doing... whatever it was they were doing about the sky. It didn't concern Bosyak so he didn't think about it. The wind was howling, though if one were to strain their ears, they could hear a sharp “Oi” pierce the noise. “OI!” Sharon burst into the Peak, where Bosyak was sitting in his usual spot. She was wearing an embroidered scarf alongside her usual outfit (for verisimilitude, and because she liked the scarf and this was as good an excuse as any) and carrying a box, as she had when they first had met. “Oh, there you are, Bosyak! Hi”, she winked with a smile, but her face was obviously exhausted, “Been a bit of an especially busy age, so I haven’t had the time to visit a whole lot”, she sat next to him without pausing to ask for permission, “Did remember to bring drinks again, though. This time local brews from the lower slopes. Got them from this one merchant for answering prayers…”, she dug around, retrieving two jugs of wine, offering one to Bosyak and taking a big gulp from her own. “So, how have you been holding up?”, she stared into the distance, “I know things have been rough hereabouts, too…” Bosyak moved his eyes from the white oblivion to her. He looked down at the offered bottle. After a moment, he took it, took a swig, and nodded. "You are unexpected," he said. "I had… mmmm... Plans." He paused. "For you." He gripped the bottle with his teeth and clapped his hands. The snow flurries melted away, revealing a series of palm trees and coconuts made entirely out of ice. The light glittered and shined through them. "Like at the river," he said. "But… mmmm... Different. I sent you gifts." “Ooh”, Sharon clapped her hands and walked to the sculpture, “They are very pretty~” She laid a hand upon one, to feel their texture. The cold was deep, the ice timeless. Shaped like mortal terror and mortal pain. The frost bit into her palm. Like a leopard might. Mirroring the sculptures, Sharon’s usually easy smile froze on her face. “Ah.” She walked back to Bosyak and sat down. A little bit closer this time, but she did not look directly at him, her gaze cast downwards instead. She took another gulp from her jug of wine. “…You know, I had plans for you too. All kinds of fun activities, just kicking back and trying to unwind a bit, you know? But we are Gods, and things happen. Things that we will be responsible for handling.” She lifted her head, “You know, one of the first things I noticed when I came here was the lack of martial Gods. This is a very cozy World you have, all in all. Homey. Or at least used to be. I can tell you’re not used to mortal conflict in the scale that is currently occurring.” “And I can tell you’re not taking it great.” She lifted her head, now looking Bosyak right in the eyes. “So I’m asking you again. How have you been holding up?” He snorted and glanced down the mountain. “You can tell me.” Bosyak look at her. His eyes surprisingly harsh. He stared for a long time before, slowly, his face softened. "The interlopers," he said slowly. "They didn't belong. They have been… mmmm... Dealt with. Sent them to you, I did. Gifts. I hope you liked them." Was it a bit of (literally) killing two birds with one stone? Yes. But, also, he didn't know what else to present her with. Before she arrived, things on the mountain had been very regulated. Everyone had a place and stayed there. Sure there had been meetings, exchanges, but those were regulated by the Old Ways. This was different. His eyes found hers. Sharon met his gaze with a steely one of her own. “Yes, the issue has been dealt with”, Sharon nodded in agreement, “In large part by Yeshi. Who has dealt with it largely by means of imprisoning the dream-echoes of the entire population of the largest City of your World in an eternal nightmare dimension.” "Yes." “I have not interfered in this conflict, because despite War being a bummer, it’s not really my business to ensure that mortals don’t kill each other. Sure, occasionally I might intervene, to bring a bit of zest to places sorely lacking, but in general, the mortals of this world are under the protection of you and the other Gods of the Mountain. It falls to you to watch over their lives. It falls to me to watch over their deaths. And it is in that context where I tell you that she has built a truly grotesque thing.” There was a sad smile on her face. “Now, I don’t malign her, in particular. She is just a mortal who is taking out her fear and her sorrow on others with borrowed Divine power far too vast for her. Mortals are often a querulous lot, and it is by the fact that you lifted such a grieving woman to take her vengeance on all those people that I could tell you are not used to fighting. This sort of escalation reduces Worlds to rubble, and more than that…” Sharon took Bosyak’s hand into her own, and then placed her other one on top. Her eyes softened somewhat. “You did not do rightly by that poor woman. She’s as much a prisoner of this insane construction as all those people in the Maw. I cannot allow it to stand.” He pulled his hand away. It was an action that he did not like. "You are a stranger here," he rumbled. "There is much you do. Not. Understand." “I might be a stranger here”, she responded, “But what matters, is whether I am a stranger to you. Am I? Because that will determine whether this is the advice of a Stranger, or the advice of a Friend.” Bosyak didn't know how to answer that. "I... I don't know," he said. "What is… mmmm... desired. And what is. Very different. Can be very different." He thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "If friendship is given, it will be returned." Sharon lifted an eyebrow, almost amused despite the tense situation. “Oh, I assure you. I am no stranger to giving or receiving friendship. In fact, we have been doing quite a bit of that already, if you haven’t noticed.” She winked. “And I wouldn’t mind more.” "I… I would like that." He tilted his head and attempted his very first wink. It was too long, too slow. But he did it all the same. Then he straightened up, uncomfortable with the awkwardness of the gesture. Sharon exploded into laughter, clear as glass. She downed the last of her wine, and grinned wide, as if the heavy atmosphere had been entirely dispelled. “Hey, don’t be like that! It wasn’t bad for your first time~” Her eyes focused on the Moon, low in the horizon, and then darted back to Bosyak. “You know”, she spoke with a mischievous tinge in her voice, “Mona is still early on her path. That means we have plenty of time for me to teach you some other tricks I happen to know, if you’re up for it~” He was. He very much was.
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Dec 1, 2021 03:03
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Bosyak – the Peak 2/5, Wounds: None In a much better, if not very confused and somewhat hungover, mood, Bosyak headed down from the Peak. At the edge of Nomadland, he surveyed the destruction of Yeshi and was pleased. The Old Ways would continue. As would the plan. But... Sharon had been unhappy. He did not like her unhappy. And this realization sat in his stomach like a rock. "Mmmm..." With a snort, he raised a heavy foot and brought it down hard upon the mountain. OOC: Using two points from the Domain of Storms and five points from the Hunger for Companionship to try and cut off the peak from the rest of the mountain. Avalanches, blizzards, rock falls, freezing rain, anything and everything. While unlikely to fully succeed, he can return the Peak happy as long as the terrain leading up to the nomads is aggressively hostile and inhospitable. He is not concerned right now with collapsed tunnels or collateral damage.
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Dec 1, 2021 03:16
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Warp of light and weft of night blend together again and the sky is seamless once more. Almost a century of cosmic bloodstain is healed in the span of the eclipse, and the gods can rest easy knowing that the insult is mended with it. OOC: Fixing the nebula: 5d6k1+4d6k1 10 vs target 9. Domain: 17, Hunger: 12. No Consequence. The nebula itself is mended and the night sky is occupied only by stars, sun, and moon. - Bosyak’s hoof comes down upon the Peak with all the force of an avalanche, wide as the world, yet concentrated in just one point. He breaks the bones of the mountain. Tunnel after tunnel of the MTP-STN cave in where they cross the world’s axis, with only their divine construction holding them open long enough to avoid thousands of travellers’ deaths. If Protomoro were still alive, he would weep. The Heart of the Mountain cracks in twain like a geode under the rocksmith’s hammer. The labyrinth-hoard-sanctum of the mountain god is opened to prying mortal eyes, and for the first time, Mezidec bleeds. Down, down the shockwave plunges, splitting the golem god’s Pictogram Chamber cleanly in two, nearly severing its author’s outstretched hand as he put the final touches on the latest row of poetry. At last, the blow reaches the forbidden peak of the antimountain. All the windows of the Palace of Dusk and Dawn shatter at its approach, and the rock above calves away by Bosyak’s act of irrepressible divine power, driving the broken Palace down to rest across Solene and Mona’s celestial path. Let all mortals know: The nomads are under the protection of a god. A real god. A powerful god. A merciless god. OOC: Cutting off the peak: 3d6k1+6d6k1 11 vs target 11. Domain: 8, Hunger: 20. Consequence, immediate and obvious. Bosyak succeeds in cutting the nomadlands off from the rest of the mountain via blizzards, avalanches and storms, with disastrous consequences. Mezidec is wounded, and the Havens of the gods within and beneath the mountain are (though not irreparably) damaged. - DP status: Bosyak: 0/5 ----- (-2 for cutting the nomads off from the lowlands) Mezidec: 0/5 Solene/Mona: 0/5 ----- (-3 for nebula) Sharon: 0/5 ----- (-1 for nebula) Yeshi: 0/5 Tectamus: 0/2 Haniyu: 0/2 Bergeros: 0/2 - THE SECOND AGE, THE AGE OF GIVING AND TAKING, IS OVER
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Dec 1, 2021 03:45
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The second Age following the arrival of the reaper saw violence and generosity in equal measure. While the dwellers within the mountain lived in an increasingly advanced communal city, the tyrannies of the outer slopes went to war with each other and tried to colonise the nomad paths toward the peak. Bosyak gave the gift of revenge to the nomad woman Yeshi—inadvertently bringing her to the ranks of the gods—and Yeshi, in turn, took the dreams of the city of Acca. Mona gave the Theosophists glimpses of divinity in exchange for their mundane secrets. Mezidec gave with one hand, creating the diplomat-demigod-construct Bergeros, and took with the other, grasping the winds of fortune, tearing out a feather, and using it to write his Golden Law upon the world: no war shall ever profit the warlords. Ever in the back of the mountain gods’ minds was the thought: what will the reaper take? And then, in the closing hours of the era, Bosyak nearly broke the world in two. - The nomads were safer than they’d ever been from the depredations of the lowland tyrannies. No child knew the struggles their parents’ parents faced, fleeing from the missionaries. Even their parents treated it as taboo. The colonial nightmare of the previous Age only existed as a hazy memory in the eldest of the elders. Their war of sorts was over, and now they had the time, a quiet Age, to rebuild in the brutal paradise of the Peak. Life was meant to be lived, and here they could live it well. The only problem now, besides the wind and the cold and the scree and the many little human problems, were the snow-leopards of Yeshi and their rending claws. As for the city-states below, they were so cowed by the power of the Herd-of-One that their militaries and missionaries instantly withdrew from whatever colonial holdings they had left, harried by storms and chased by avalanches the whole length of their retreat. Those that survived swore the mountain itself was trying to kill them. They had no idea the disasters would happen again any time they, or anyone else, approached the nomads’ lands—they still hadn’t gathered the spirit to make another attempt on the peak. So, the mountain slept, one eye open. Meanwhile, Yeshi prowled, appraised Brother Cold’s work, and approved. Let the invader quake in his bed. Let my people sleep soundly above the storm. A knotted mass of prayers rose from the lowland city of Loom: quote:Please spare us— OOC: The nomads are doing very well, despite the problems of the previous Age. Meanwhile, the lowland cities are terrified of Bosyak’s power. Yeshi’s considering her next move - The undercity was strong. The undercity was united. A hundred thousand hammers could break and reshape the mountain just as surely as a god could. The MTP-STN was back in full operation within the year. Protomoro had not proposed a child’s drawing, but a fully-elucidated architectural plan with an impressive complement of redundancies and resiliencies. That was the advantage of petitioning an all-mighty god to fulfil your construction project: infinite power to build a wonder far beyond mortal ability. When rebuilders came together from all over the undercity, they had easy access to the disaster site from every direction, and the damage had spread so little that the repairs were done in a matter of months. Regional councils collectively decided to build wayshrines around the network where mortals could pray to Mezidec to repair tunnels through divine might, or thoroughly log the damage or decay for others to fix later. Recent technological developments certainly helped. Strange metal machines excavated ruins and hauled builders, tools, and materials to and from the worksites. They were few in number, and they drew their energy from the scattered magma deposits miners could find, but they got the job done and did it without putting noxious gases into the undercity’s precious air. The principle was simple: boil water, let the steam rise, rotate wheels and turbines... Technological developments aside, the social relations of the surface world were rather more calcified. The city-states transformed in the womb of strife and emerged as nation-states clad in a ragged afterbirth of the last Age’s greed, war, and patriotic pride. Long and vicious diplomatic meetings led to lines being drawn on maps led to the concept of the border, the absolutely-defined territory of one city or another. With borders came security, and with security came bureaucracy: the passgate, a document that allowed an inhabitant of one city’s lands to visit another city for a finite time. At first, passgates were hard to come by at the best of times. Eventually, exemptions were made, with some military indignation, for certain classes of people: scholars, diplomats, healers, and so on. Of course, that led to the question: how do you determine who’s a scholar, or when healers are needed? It was in this cultural climate that Bergeros was busy planting the seeds of the great plans he had been created to carry out: common educational standards, diplomatic pipelines, inter-nation-state councils, and other bridge-building initiatives. A prayer sounded in the fractured Heart of the Mountain, echoes mingling in an uneven chorus from one voice: quote:In a fortified hill-city surrounded by windmills, a great—and greatly bearded—mathematician-philosopher prays. OOC: Life is good within the mountain in a lotta ways. People are coming together and sharing knowledge at an ever-increasing rate. After an Age of being a de-facto city, the communities in the mountain have decided they’re a city in name, too (you can choose the name). The MTP-STN has already been repaired thanks to a massive cross-city effort. Wayshrines offer opportunities to pray to Mezidec to repair damaged or decaying parts of the tunnels, as well as to log the damage directly so mortals can contribute to repairs as well. The Mezidecine Merchant organisation has kinda subsided now that their mission’s more-or-less done. The undercity’s also developing geothermal steam power. The simmering tensions in the lowlands have evolved into an elaborate system of diplomatic engagements that sees the city-states become nation-states with defined borders. Bergeros is now laying the ground for international cooperation of a very top-down variety. Mortals within the mountain are generally avoiding—and avoiding talking about—the damage to the Heart, out of respect for Mezidec and a general sense that there are probably more important things to be doing, like making sure if this kinda thing happens again it won’t be as bad. - The eclipse, and the mending of the sky, served to remind mortals across the over-world of the power of the sun and moon. This, more than anything else, helped the Theosophists spread their sect and their moon-basin ritual. Soon the flow of secrets to the twin goddesses exploded: lost and abandoned loves; secret experiments; stolen research; nursed grudges; little observations of beauty; unspoken questions about the way the world worked; promises both shirked and remembered; even the occasional murder, or worse. Secret after secret spilled from the mouths of mortals into the vault of the sky. In return, these mortals gained insight, or inspiration, or a hallucinogenic respite from worldly troubles... and around and around the Theosophists went, gathering up these whispers of the divine. At the time of their founding, this search had been like panning in a river; now it was like spinning straw into gold. Still, they were really no closer to truly understanding the divine—but nobody told them that. Nobody knew besides the gods, and they certainly weren’t telling. Their network of secret-selling grew at an ever-rising pace until it was finally stymied by the sudden introduction of the ‘passgate’—official documents required for the inhabitants of one nation-state to enter the city of another. Even then, exemptions could easily be granted for scholars, and scholars were the foot-soldiers of the Theosophist sect. If that army marched for a more secular purpose then they could play a role to be reckoned with on the world’s stage. For now, their most radical acts were using the increasingly-common new metal, iron, to build complex telescopes and orreries to further study the stars. OOC: The Theosophists have inadvertently built a world-spanning network that gathers the secrets of the divine and uses them to build an increasingly-detailed, but still not-great picture of divinity. It’s also pretty much useless to the lowland nation-states because the juicy secrets that could be used for blackmail are given exclusively to Solene and, mostly, Mona. Mostly they have bigger fish to fry, so the scholars who make up the bulk of the Theosophists are free to come and go as they please. - With the inequalities enabled by the Bureaucracy’s principles becoming increasingly and obviously ingrained, mortal frustrations inevitably erupted into all manner of fractured interpretations of their real meanings. Most could be split comfortably into one of two camps. On one hand, the literalists, who believed in simply following the instructions to the letter, like calculating a moral trajectory on an abacus. On the other hand, the humanists, who believed the laws of gods (or Celestials, as the case may be) should be bent for the benefit of mortals. As of the turning of the Age, this division was just a lively disagreement. Who could say where the schism would lead? And far, far from that little mountain world, out in the void beyond void waited a fractalic corpse in need of a thorough forensic investigation. OOC: The mortal dissatisfaction with how the Bureaucracy’s principles are exploited by those in power has turned into a debate about the meaning and intent of those principles, with two very different major sides. The Celestials would look kindly on exactly one of those sides... if they knew or cared about the mountain-world’s people. Also, get your shades, it’s CSI time (whenever you’re ready). - Both the reaper and the moon read a strange prayer in the rippling reflections of the River: quote:In a coastal city, in a modest home, the wailing of youths heavy in the background, a prayer lifts to the sky, caught not by one divine—but two. - THE THIRD AGE HAS BEGUN - DP status: Bosyak: 7/7 Mezidec: 7/7 Solene/Mona: 7/7 Sharon: 7/7 Yeshi: 7/7 Tectamus: 3/3 Haniyu: 3/3 Bergeros: 3/3
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Dec 1, 2021 19:47
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Mezidec – At the Broken Heart of the Mountain. DP: 7/7 > 3/7, Wounds: Broken Heart (one-off -1) The Heart of the Mountain wasn't so much a physical space as a conceptual one, linked around the mountain and beyond by tunnels at the whim of its master. It was morphic, conforming to the needs of its guests and its master. What, then, did it mean for it to be broken? For one thing, the treasures, the true treasures of the God of Wealth were exposed for what they really were, known to all who witnessed them. For another, it flickered, randomly connecting for brief intervals to places all around the demesne. This wasn't particularly helpful, and increased the exposure of the treasures. So, what were these treasures? Most ostentatious was a large jade statue conforming to no style or technique known to the peoples of the mountain, as if it came from another world. Then there was a plinth displaying a tiny octet of snowflakes held in frozen suspension, each flawless, each identical. Then a pair of plinths surmounted by memory images. Tectamus rescuing myriad miners and potential fallers, refracted, each occasion a facet of a gem. Bergeros, bringing communities together and smoothing fractious relations, as if each occasion were carved in gleaming marble. As for Mezidec himself, the damage was a crack in the material that formed a given manifestation. Whatever the material used, the damage was apparent. Much restorative work had been done, and done well. The massive, mountain-spanning city of Concordia was testament to that. But divine abodes, whilst easily conforming to the will of their creators, were not a matter for mortal hands. The Broken Heart was echoed in Mezidec, so setting it to rights, as with the Pictogram Gallery, was a priority. ooc: Mezidec spends 2 DP, 1 Hunger on repairing the Heart of the Mountain and the Pictogram Gallery, tapping up Tectamus to contribute 1 DP 1 Hunger. Taking the opportunity to check in with Tectamus, make sure they are all right, *** Mezidec – Invoking Bosyak and calling him to Broken Heart of the Mountain. "Bosyak. I extend to you an offer of hospitality, here in the heart of the mountain. Your action at the end of the last age entered into my realm within the mountain and harmed my people, harmed my child, harmed myself. We need to make things right, and to repair our agreement. I call you forth that we may do so, and open the way. Let us talk." OOC: Hi Bosyak. Let's talk about that thing you just did. This is the nice, friendly, neighbourly option. *** Mezidec – At the Broken Heart of the Mountain, answering a prayer. "The next round is on you." *** Mezidec – At the Broken Heart of the Mountain, elaborating on an answer to prayer. The voice of the Kindly Shelter which had sounded so fleetingly a minute or so prior returned with the substance of the answer. "Do you know what wealth truly is? I see the concept you shape in your mind. Gold, gems, other shiny rocks. Consider, then, that undiscovered seams of them hidden deep within the mountain have no intrinsic value. They are of as much use as the lesser favoured rocks that surround them. Without someone to assign value, they have none. True wealth, genuine wealth, is a function of people themselves and how they prosper. A tyrant who hoards shiny metal at the expense of those in his lands is poor and his nation will not thrive. A matriarch who guides her family to great size, strength and cohesion, with strong bonds of love and trust, is immensely wealthy, regardless of any material valuation." A pause. "Nonetheless, there is a salient point in what you say. Because the people are still in the tyrant's lands, he thinks he is rich, and wrongly ascribes it to the inert but shiny physical objects. So, let us pierce the bases of these concentrated cups and show what they truly rest on. Every family, every household upon the mountain surface, I grant in perpetuity a boon. If they chafe beneath the rule of one they deem oppressive, escape tunnels shall be sent, that they may go somewhere more conducive to the way they wish to live their lives, and seek their own fortunes. Bad rulers will haemorrhage subjects. Good rulers will have throngs flock to their realms. There you will see the truth of what wealth is, and witness the poverty of one alone in their counting-house." OOC: Answering a prayer by pointing out that people are where wealth truly resides, and inert, unused gold has no value without them. Spending 2 DP and 2 hunger to ramp up social mobility on the mountain surface to full freedom of movement by granting escape tunnels to everyone to leave oppressive societies together with their kin, and join more appealing ones. If they cannot vote with their hands, now they can vote with their feet. AJ_Impy fucked around with this message at 00:55 on Dec 2, 2021 |
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Dec 2, 2021 00:39
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Bosyak – At the Broken Heart of the Mountain, with Mezidec DP: 7/7, Wounds: none/7 Bosyak appeared suddenly, sitting on his rock. His ears twitched but he was otherwise silent. It had been a long, long time since he'd be here. So long he couldn't really even remember when. He slowly surveyed the damage to the Heart, to the mountain, to Mezidec himself. He exhaled through his nose. The heat of the mountain turned it quickly to steam. After a moment, he rummaged through his fur and he pulled out a weathered, torn piece of cloth. "This is from a pilgrim," he said. "He was…mmmm... Brave." The mortal man had forced himself to the Peak long ago. Knew it was a one way trip. "I offer it to you, Light at the End of the… mmmm... Tunnel." The cracked manifestation of Mezidec in the Broken Heart of the Mountain reached for the cloth and accepted it. “I thank you for your gracious gift, Circle-Maker.” Reverently, he took it to the plinth that displayed the octet of perfect snowflakes and spread it beneath them, angling it for aesthetic value. A motion of his hands as he returned to his guest, and a translucent three-dimensional hovering map of the mountain picked out in diamond dust, with the Peak a brilliant cone of white marble, the Heart of the Mountain a geode with the crystal interior a perfect cameo of the room they were in, and at the antipode, the sisters palace glittered in sunstone and moonstone, tunnelled in. “I offer this to you, Herd-of-One, honoured guest.” Bosyak nodded solemnly. "A gracious gift. Received in many thanks." He exhaled another bout of steam. "I come to ask for forgiveness, Enricher. It was not my intention to… mmmm... intrude. Your realm is your own. Meant not, I to break our agreement. Recompensation is yours. Speak and it is so." “I accept that your intent was the protection of your people and your realm, and that no harm towards me, the Mountain and those who dwell within was deliberate. I accept your offer of restitution, for which I would ask a commensurate amount of your divine power donated towards a joint project to benefit both of our peoples. Perhaps a demigod of repair and reconsecration, one who may tend to your shrines and to those who fear the Jaguars, and who may shore up and strengthen the interior.” "Generous," Bosyak said. "Too generous. Accepting such a humble token for so vast a debt. This will be… mmmm... Remembered. It is yours when you call for it." “Am I not the Generosity of the Depths? I uphold my true nature. I thank you for coming here to resolve this, Bosyak. Our agreement is reaffirmed." Bosyak bowed his head and disappeared in a bout of steam. OOC: Bosyak agrees to donate 2 DP to the project of Mezidec's choosing. Tyrannosaurus fucked around with this message at 02:30 on Dec 2, 2021 |
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Dec 2, 2021 02:25
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Sharon – The River DP: 7/7, Wounds: None Sharon was perusing her prayers on a familiar tropical beach reflection of the River's shores, when she came upon a particularly interesting one. She read it with a slight, if sympathetic, frown. After she was done, she wrote and disclosed a letter alongside a small jade trinket in a bottle, and set it off to find its mark. "Hello, dear. First of all, don't be afraid about the heron incident. That is an issue on our end of things, so it would be wrong of me to smite you for it. With that out of the way, I'm sorry for your loss and difficult circumstances, but please understand that I do not function as a Nemesis. However, I shall personally ferry your late husband and let him know his murder has not remained secret, for whatever small comfort that might grant him and you. I have also sent you a small trinket. It does not really do anything, and is not worth all that much, but I am made aware that a particularly gifted group of Mezi monks is in town. If you seek their leader, impart your story, and present this token, they should recognize it as one of Divine origin. They will not grant you riches, or happiness, but they can tell you where to take the next step to ensure the stable future for your children you seek. You can trust them. These things, and the knowledge that the murderers will eventually be brought to account, are the only things I can grant you. Lastly, I will ask of you, though I will not make demands, that you please not gossip overtly about what you have done. Not because it is some sin, but because I can see a variety of problems arising if people with ill intent or hubristic hearts start to abuse the tales of the herons for their own ends. May you find peace, one day. -Sharon" There was also another letter that was sent, this one leading its way towards the Celestial path. "Hi, Mona! Just wanted to share some of my thoughts about that whole heron prayer I think both of us were sent. As in, it's not great. Now, don't get me wrong, I never personally minded the herons! Like, I get it, I'm the new girl in town, and you want to keep an eye on me to ensure I'm up to no good. That's understandable. Also, they are pretty birds, and I honestly think they liven up the place. It's all this gossip they keep sharing with mortals that is an issue. I don't particularly care if some occasional mortal gleans some advice or last words or the circumstances of their death from some dead relative, but 'easily bribed divine servants that disclose the secrets of the dead for gifts of fish' is 100% the sort of thing that mortals will exploit if they learn of it. That's what we want to avoid. Especially since you two are looking after that society of god learners or what have you, they especially should not be allowed access to this sort of thing. I did not share knowledge of necromancy on this World because it always ends up in bad places, and it will ESPECIALLY end up in bad places if it's not even based on true and curated knowledge passed down by the Divine but instead on half-understood half-truths passed down by eavesdropping chatterboxes to far too overeager mortals." Now, I know your Palace got damaged and you have that to deal with first of all, but I'd appreciate it if you looked into this, or at least shared your thoughts about it with me. -Sharon" ------------- Sharon – The Dead Titan Sharon stared at the corpse of the dead Titan alongside Haniyu, hands on her hips, brow furrowed in thought. "Alright", she finally spoke, "So let's go through the initial steps of the autopsy, again. I will interface the... uh", she surreptitiously glanced at her palm, where a cheat-sheet of terminology had been written with a sharpie, "internal ontological/temporal matrix of this Titan with our present reality long enough for you to unravel what you can of its history and circumstances, whilst I will try and unravel exactly how and why it died, and more importantly, how that relates to Skull Mountain." She frowned. "Not going to lie, guy's pretty huge. It's not going to be an easy task." "One might even call it..." Sharon retrieved a pair of polarized sunglasses from the pockets of her robes, flicked the temples open with a swift movement of her wrist, and placed them neatly on her face. "...Titanic." Disembodied screams echoed in the Void. OOC: Answering the prayer, and sending Mona a missive with some worries related to it. Additionally, doing the Autopsy. Investing 4 DP (From Death to investigate the... well, the Death, and from Borders to interface with the Titan's own vast experience of reality). Investing 3 HP also.(from Happy Endings, because Sharon has an inkling that not just the closure of this Titan, but the fate of Skull Mountain, somehow hinges on all this being understood. Success here is the most important thing). Asking Haniyu to impart 1 DP (History being the most relevant Domain, but the others also help) and 1 HP (from whatever he wishes, probably either Pride or Galaxy Brain). Total planned dice pool for this action thus becomes 6 DP and 5 HP.
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Dec 2, 2021 14:37
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 Mona- The Shattered Palace Mona walks through the shattered Palace, heading for the grand foyer. It is time to resume her journey across the sky. She feels like there is something she has forgotten about, but there is no time to think about it, she needs to get going. She looks at the mirror hanging next to the door. It is deformed and cracked ever since the Palace shuddered. She freezes for a moment, surprised at her reflection, something isn’t quite right about the face looking back at her. Mona tears her gaze away and heads out the door, onto the Celestial Path. Something is off. — Solene - The Celestial Path Solene is almost done for the day, a few more steps on the path. She walks, lost in her thoughts. Her hair is messy, spilling forth from under her hood but she can’t really bring herself to care. Something is wrong. She scans the mountain’s surface, she peers into the mountain depths. Everything looks fine. A final step and Solene finds herself before the door to the Palace, it creaks as it swings open on bent hinges. Solene steps inside and finds herself looking at the broken mirror in the foyer. She frowns. Something is wrong. — Mona - The Shattered Palace Night in, night out Mona travels across the sky. She comes home to the Palace unsatisfied. A feeling of loss fills her mind as she walks through the corridors, dark and full of rubble. She opens the door and steps outside. The tower that was here broke off. Mona steps over a chunk of rubble and sits on the sill of the torn apart window. The top of the tower drifts silently through the air. Mona feels lonely. Something is missing. — Solene - The Shattered Palace Solene paces up and down the balcony of her solar. She always wanted calm, so why does she feel so unhappy now? She steps back inside through one of the arches and makes her way down. Dawn is approaching fast, she needs to be on her way. She rushes down the stairs, steps echoing through the vast solitude of the Palace. The echos sound oppressing and she moves faster, and faster, and faster. The stairs give under her thundering footfall and she falls. Faster, and faster, and faster. The goddess lands in a heap in a courtyard. She lays there for a while, motionless, the Palace crumbling around her. Eventually she manages to summon up the courage to get up, and be on her way towards the Celestial Path. As she reaches the shattered mirror in the foyer, her reflection is already waiting for her. Something is there. — Mona - The Shattered Palace Mona comes home from yet another uneventful night. She passes the threshold and looks at the mirror. Nothing is there, no one is there. She stands there, frozen in sudden terror. Thoughts are buffeting her mind. Something is off. Something is wrong. Something is missing. Her reflection walks up to the mirror. Something is there. — Solene - The Shattered Palace; Mona - The Shattered Palace Solene and Mona slowly, cautiously extend their hand towards the mirror. The hands hover, an inch apart. Mona has to know, she thrusts her hand towards the mirror. Solene’s fingers close around it, holding it, warming it, sheltering it. Something gives. And both goddesses realise what is missing, what has been ripped apart. The Palace is not just their haven, it is a part of them, a part that binds them and connects them. Through the Palace, they are one. Without the palace, they are split. Mona smiles, starry tears flowing down her cheeks. Solene steps forward and hugs her little sister. — Solene and Mona - The Shattered Palace The sun does not rise that day, nor does the moon at night. It will be a distressing week for the mortals living on the surface of the mountain, but after mending the wound in the sky, the sisters now need to mend their own wounds. OOC: The shattering of the Palace was a traumatic even for the sisters and they will emerge different people. The hunger for unity becomes a domain, replacing guidance. After seeing both the sky and the palace getting wounded last age, their new hunger is Security. Using 3 DP from Unity and 2 HP from Security to repair the Palace and shore up its foundation to hopefully avoid damage in the future. Unity: Following their schism, Mona and Solene are more united than they have been in a long time. Now they want to guide others and lead them to reconciliation, harmony and wholeness. Security: Seeing their home above and below the mountain shattered left an impression on the twin goddesses. They want nothing more than to prevent something like this from happening again, to them, to their charges, to their friends. Fathis Munk fucked around with this message at 00:26 on Dec 3, 2021 |
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Dec 3, 2021 00:00
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Rock walls un-cracked. Gifts un-broke. Tunnels un-twisted. It took the mortals one hundred thousand hammers to break and reshape the mountain to fix the damage to the MTP-STN; it took Mezidec a roll of his shoulders, a flex of his hands, and just a moment’s assistance from Tectamus to accomplish the same thing for the Heart. His Haven returned to the same orderly stillness and wholeness it had before the disaster, seamless, scarless. No supplicant brought into the Heart henceforth would be able to tell where the wounds had been or how the tunnels had become unfettered. There was just one problem: one of Bosyak’s eight snowflakes was missing. . . . As for Tectamus’ own home, the Pictogram Chamber? He waved a hand: No. Mezidec’s authority stopped at the (now neatly-split) threshold. Inside, however, Mezidec spied mounds and mountains of cubes of stone, each with a pictogram carved on one face and holes drilled into the other sides. The poetry of the past Age had been neatly divided into its elementary symbols. Whatever the demigod was planning, he was taking the damage in stride, even perhaps taking inspiration from it—and his next creation would be greater still. OOC: Fixing the Heart: 4d6k1+3d6k1 10 vs target 9 (I forgot to add the -1 penalty in the roll, but you succeed either way). Domain: 12, Hunger: 16. Consequence. The Heart is whole again, but someone—or something—has taken one of Bosyak’s snowflakes in all the commotion. Tectamus is physically fine and is actually incorporating the damage into his plans. He shuts off your attempt to fix the Pictogram Chamber, though he may approach for some help later. - The mathematician-philosopher scoffed at the god’s words and went back to drinking. Why would any mortal under one tyranny depart for another? They were all as bad as each other. Why choose a fig with a worm over a fig with a weevil? Indeed, even among the few mortals that heard of Mezidec’s offer, few ever bothered to take it, and the blessing from the earth faded until nothing was left but dust and useless holes in the rock. Better the devil you knew... OOC: Providing escape tunnels: 3d6k1+3d6k1 7 vs target 9. Domain: 10, Hunger: 5. No Consequence. Mezidec’s offer meets with apathy and his power on this matter fades. You can, however, force a success at the cost of causing a Consequence (as before, if you take this option then you describe the success and I describe the Consequence). - Once mighty, vital, and thoroughly venal, the long-withered king of Acca lay alone on his deathbed under a sliver of moon. Nothing had been the same since that night when the dream died. And then, for the first time in decades, he began to dream. Of that, he was justly sure. After all, there were surely no prowling beasts in the palace of the waking world, no leopards with eyes sharp as knives and teeth even sharper. Creatures with the form and manner of hunting cats, but the length of four, maybe five warriors laid head to toe... creatures whose fur bristled with frost... creatures that walked through his palace walls... creatures that loomed over his bed, candlelight passing through them as if through solid ice, yet whose breath stank of corpseblood... It must have been a dream. He kept telling himself that. They sat down either side of his bed like servants in waiting. It must have been a dream. Darkness devoured the walls and the ceiling. It must have been a dream. She came out of the black and she looked straight through him. His dream-shade wandered through the dream of Acca, unaware of ‘his’ demise in the waking world. The king of Acca was not the last tyrant to die. He was, however, the only one who died alone, unobserved by guards, healers, priests, supplicants, or anyone else. Witnesses survived and rumours spread until everyone knew: a god was smiting their rulers one by one. The people of the lowlands were not privy to the affairs of the god of the peak. They didn’t know of Yeshi, god of the hunt, mother of the snow leopards, leader of the pack of beasts that murdered their kings and queens. They did, however, know the name and mien of Bosyak, tyrant at the mountaintop, just as much of a beast as the leopards. As they saw it, Bosyak was king of the Peak, and the leopards were his servants. Curses rose like prayers. Curse Bosyak! Curse the Peak! For the second time since the reaper’s arrival, the lowland tyrants and generals and all their authorities and institutions looked up the mountain with malice in mind. This time, however, their hearts were full of not greed, but hatred. Slowly, quietly, they plotted revenge on the hated Yak’s favoured people. . . . High above those lofty palaces, far away from haunting snow-leopards, Yeshi tutored her living followers in the art of the hunt. Their prey was far more mundane: the nomads’ yaks. Season by season, year by year, the intelligent snow leopards of the nomadlands became more cunning, more stubborn, more unafraid. OOC: Decapitating the nation-states: 5d6k1+4d6k1 11 vs target 11. Domain: 13, Hunger: 16. Consequence. Palace guards and assorted cityfolk catch glimpses of ethereal snow leopards accompanying Yeshi on the hunt. People put 2 and 2 together and realise it’s got something to do with the god of the Peak. Not knowing that Yeshi is responsible for this, or that Yeshi is a distinct god, the nations officially curse Bosyak’s name and plot revenge on his favoured people. Also, killing the tyrants doesn’t end the tyranny, just creates a power vacuum to be readily filled. Note: this action is still in progress! Several tyrants are dead, many more remain to be killed. The hunt will be finished by the next time I post, so if you want to interfere with or oppose it, now is the time. If she succeeds, there will be chaos throughout the lowlands. Training her leopards in the hunt: 3d6k1+2d6k1 10 vs target 7. Domain: 12, Hunger: 8. No Consequence. Yeshi also trains her leopards near the peak to be better hunters, presenting an increasing threat the nomads’ yaks. - A pigeon somehow found its way, by torchlight, into the reconstructed Heart of the Mountain. Tied to its leg was a letter on a scroll of parchment: Dear father, The mountain-goddess is undoing my labours! Her callous assassinations are destabilising the precarious peace—and worse, bringing rapid change among mortal manners that I cannot control, both in their intent toward the foreigners in Bosyak’s demesne and their own political developments. I know that what I am about to ask is a great burden, but as a great and powerful god, I believe you are the one best suited to fulfil it. Please, for our sake and for the mortals’ sake, stop her, end her. I cannot reason with nor respect an untameable beast. Your faithful son, Bergeros A singular plea. OOC: Bergeros wants you and/or anyone to fix the Yeshi situation before it gets even more out of hand. - Every mirror set right. Every tile polished just so again. Every fractured crenellation eased back into place. Brick by brick, window by window, room by room, Solene and Mona put everything back the way it was. Where the damage seemed irreparable, veins of gold and silver filled the gaps. It could never be just as new again, but it could be whole again, and home again, and hollow no more. The night after they were finished, they found a bird-of-paradise perched on the architrave of the Palace’s front door. A stranger from the lands above, come looking for the moon and sun. OOC: Mending the Shattered Palace: 4d6k1+3d6k1 11 vs target 9. Domain: 17, Hunger: 10. No Consequence. The Palace is repaired as they intend. - Haniyu grimaced at the pun as he put the final touches on a device of wheels within wheels within wheels, each carven with millions upon billions upon trillions of oddly-familiar symbols— “Though I defer, of course, to your... situational authority on this matter, may I advise you to leave this work primarily to me, given my expertise in such matters.” It wasn’t a question. “I understand that your former tasks as a reaper spirit may have deprived you of opportunities for serious work, but you may take this as an opportunity to learn. For your own advancement within your own department, that is.” He waited for Sharon’s signal, when she’d created a path through the border (what border did he need to cross, exactly?) he set the wheels in motion and they span and span and    all        is light       and pain  and silence OOC: Haniyu’s Consequence from his initial investigation comes into play. Specifically, his plan is spectacularly and probably unnecessarily bad. This comes in the form of adding 4 dice via his Galaxy Brain hunger instead of 1. Forensics on the titan: 6d6k1+8d6k1 12 vs target 11. Domain: 23, Hunger: 24. Consequence, immediate and explosive. Roll to defend against this... attack? Note: the presence of any particular icon above has no relation to the nature or fate of the character linked with that icon! I just needed a bunch of symbols and had these pre-existing ones on hand. - DP status: Bosyak: 7/7 Mezidec: 4/7 ----- (-2 for Heart repairs, -2 for escape tunnels, +1 for prayer) Solene/Mona: 4/7 ----- (-3 for Palace repairs) Sharon: 4/7 ----- (-4 for investigation, +1 for prayer) Yeshi: 1/7 ----- (-4 for assassinations, -2 for better leopards on the peak) Tectamus: 2/3 ----- (-1 for Heart repairs) Haniyu: 2/3 ----- (-1 for investigation) Bergeros: 3/3 UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 21:14 on Dec 20, 2021 |
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Dec 3, 2021 00:27
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