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HEY! YOU! YES! YOU! I MEAN YOU! Yes. Really. YOU! We have a new OP to get everyone up to speed, so, read on! Welcome to the Land Between the Rivers: Reign of the Madgod. A choose your own adventure game where you are a god drat god! Read the first three posts of the first page of this thread and you should be up to speed on your adventures so far and ready to hop on in! Or, skip them! That is fine too! You are the MADGOD after all, so go wild!  In the Land Between the Rivers, in the land of Akkad, you reach back into your mind for your earliest memories and find only fog. In a dazed stupor, you see flashes of light and hints of figures, even the light of the full moon is blinding. You hear voices, they speak of you, but speak as if you are not present. "It is too weak. Too many have already perished and each one, could have been the last. We need more time to prepare" says a voice. "There is no more time. If we wait further, there will be nothing left to shape" says another. "The risk..." says yet another. Again, the second voice "The risk is nothing, for if we do not act now, it shall be the end, the Great One shall be lost forever. Our children shall starve. Our wives shall be slaves to foreign masters and we shall surely be consumed by the beasts of the wilderness. Our city shall end and in time even the the Temple shall fade to nothing. All we have known shall be as if it never was. You know this to be true." For a time, silence. "Proceed... and may the Great One grant that this one live, where all others perished." Then, then there is pain. It comes as a white hot fire into your heart. Your flesh beckons to scream and lash out but it lay unmoving and unresponsive to your command. Pain, indescribable pain, into the very soul. For a time you swim within a universe of pain, wishing only an end to existence which seemingly will not come. Then, it does. The pain ends and for a time, you sleep. In your silent dreaming, you hear voices. "This one is strong, it may yet live." "Perhaps." "We shall see." In time, you awaken groggily to the sound of chanting. Your eyes flicker but remain shut. You hear a voice beside your ear. "Great One... you live, but you are not yet complete. We are your devoted slaves and we shall not fail you. Slumber... slumber and drink deep of our prayer, of our love, of our devotion, of our fear... and remember who you are." You try to open your mouth, you have questions, what has happened, how did you get here, who are you... but you find you cannot find the strength to speak and drift back into slumber to the sound of prayer.  You dream. You see a city at night. At once you know it, it is your city. Mine. Great buildings rise to the sky. Mine! A grand temple stands in it's center. MINE! Many people fill it's streets, busy with their lives. MINE! MINE AND NO OTHERS! Then, everywhere there is smoke and screaming. You see flashes of battle among the streets and YOUR people slaughtered. The gate are battered and the walls are taken, every moment more of the invaders swarm within, even now, they have begun to climb the Great Temple. Every fiber of your being screams with a voice of outrage, one simple cry: MINE! The city fades. You hear chanting. They are chanting of you. Of your greatness. Of your might. Of your wonder. Of your glory. Of your power. Of your righteousness. With each word you feel your heart beat and feel it beat stronger. Still too weak to move, you gather your strength and will your eyes to open. You lay atop a bed of gold and silver encrusted with gems in the center of a large chamber. Mine. Around you a hundred or more priests kneel and chant. Mine. Around the chamber immense statues tower over the priests, statues bearing your face. Mine. Artwork of the finest quality hang from the walls memorializing forever your triumph over your foes. Mine. High above a small window shows you a glimpse to a city beyond, each word, each chant, each gesture of the priests beating with your own heart and making it beat stronger, as you see a glimmer of the city beyond you feel a stronger emotion still: MINE! At your right side a priest dressed more ornately than the rest crawls to you,, his head pressed to the floor, you are yet too weak to move "You are the Great One, the god of our people, ruler of all you see before you of your Great and Wondrous City. We are nothing, less than even the sand of the dessert, your most devoted slaves, who were born only to serve you and who give up to you all we own, even our lives." "Rest Great One... rest... and if we have seen to our task properly, on the morrow you shall have the strength to speak. If you will spare the lives of wretches such as we, we shall teach you all that you have instructed us to." The lids on your eyes are heavier than mountains and they are already closing, all the waves of the sea try to still your tongue, but you struggle and manage to choke out a single world. "Name?" You can feel weariness falling upon you, but as you drift back to slumber, you hear the priest speak to you. "Your name Holy one? You are..."  A. Koa, Strongest of the Gods, Lord of Cimbra, City of Iron B. Nem Teshet, the Hungering Flame, Lord of Peshem, the Great Maze C. Denziroh, the Madgod, Master of Madness and Revelry, Lord of Gomorrah, the City of Excess D. Amytis, Mother of arts, Lord of Ranz, the Tablet City E. Beralaf, the Leaflord, Lord of Theropi, the Green City F. Something else! Pick a name for your god, a rough theme and a name for the city. WELCOME TO THE GAME! Welcome to the Land Between the Rivers, Land of the Gods, a Chose Your Own Adventure style game. This game has been started with mod permission. The format of the game is simple. I will lay out the scenario and offer options to proceed with. You can always propose an alternate path to pick. The most popular choice will be picked. Type as much as you like, but please indicate your vote by bolding your choice. The game takes place in Akkad, a land which may or may not be Mesopotamia, with one important change... gods are real and you are one of them! The world lay before you, oh Great One, what shall you make of it? If you want to, feel free to join us on irc #madgod on synirc.net. The channel tends to always have some people in it and is especially active when updates go up. http://chat.mibbit.com/ Diogines fucked around with this message at Apr 27, 2013 around 13:42 |
| # ? Jan 23, 2013 04:22 |
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| # ? May 19, 2013 04:36 |
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An excellent map which is probably pretty accurate of the portion of the world your merchants regularly interact with. A big thanks to Disargeria for making it! No promises that every detail is accurate however! "You are Denziroh, the Madgod, Master of Madness and Revelry, Lord of Gomorrah, the City of Excess" says the High Priest and raises a silver mirror. As you fall back into sleep, you see a face smiling back at you.  You slumber, but not deeply, drinking deep of the unceasing prayers around you. On the next day you do indeed have the strength to open your eyes and to speak. It is more time still till you are able to move from the platform, several weeks, but during this time you are prayed over, sacred chants are sung, sacred oils used to wash your flesh as your priests do all they can to honor you. During this time you ask questions. They are answered. Other pieces of information you simply take from the minds of your priests. You give orders, things you wish done, or brought to you. The priests jump to obey all you instructions. Other information, your priests volunteer without being asked to, insistent that you ordered them to convey these things to you. You have no memory of giving such orders. Other things, you realize, you simply know. While you rest, you learn many things: You are a god of a great and mighty city. This city has been ruled over by a god for millenia beyond reckoning. To the populace, you are that god. You are not, that god. None of the priests dare even broach the subject but for your high priest, who informs you are not the second god or even the third. There have been many. Your high priest swears to you it has been 62 mortal generations since the last god. Some of your neighboring gods are also not their original selves, though your high priest does not know which are and which are not. Your predecessor was aware the end was coming and instructed the priests to prepare you. They do their bests to hide it, but many of your priests are terrified you will take vengeance on them. A few in their arrogance think you dare not slay them, for you need them. Your high priest has no fear and no arrogance, only a certainty and determination to see to the task before them. He is utterly loyal to you. It has been nearly two years since your predecessor was seen among the people of the city and in the years leading up to his final appearance, they took less and less of a role in the lives of the people of the city. Your high priest either does not know, or has not told you what happened to your predecessor. If you concentrate on one of your priests, you can see their surface thoughts. Your high priest explains that you have the ability to read the surface thoughts of all worshipers who were born to parents who worshiped you. Few in the city would ever be so foolish as to lie to you, for with an act of will, you would know with certainty the dishonor of their words. Your high priest either does not know, or does not tell you if you can dig deeper into their memories. The minds of scribes and smiths who work iron are incredibly difficult to read, you could try to force them open, but doing so will surely kill them and will not reliably provide the information sought. Your high priest speculates it is because there is no god of such things and unlike all other arts and knowledge, they were not made by gods, but by man, very recently in fact, in the time of his father, 60 or 70 years ago. Though certainly found to be incredibly useful to mortals, both arts are banned in most cities by most gods.  The vigil of prayer around you is unceasing, during this time one of your priests expires from old age. You see his spirit as clearly as you see all else, however, it fades into nothingness. You do not know where it has gone. You sense you might mend his flesh and return him to life if you wish, but you do not yet know the ultimate fate of the souls of the dead. Your senses are vastly superior to that of all mortals. Even while you rest, you can hear, see, smell and otherwise sense nearly anything within the city, if you chose to focus upon it. Your senses seem to dim beyond the boundaries of your city and not far beyond, your supernatural senses seem to deaden. Some of your people live close, beyond the boundaries of your city, your awareness can wrap around those places as well, but far more dimly. This sense seems to be tied to the presence of your people. Your High Priest tells you that will know with a certainty if another god passes through the walls of your city, but not beyond them. You hear voices all of the time. You have a nagging suspicion that many of them are not your worshipers, for some of the voices seem to come from within you. You are very probably insane. You are strong enough to crush a bolder in one hand and impervious to harm from any mortal tool, but iron. Your High Priest is filled with dread and fear to tell you this, but says that they must, for your predecessor made them swear to it. Your High Priest explains that should you be separated from your worshipers beyond the city, your essence shall disperse. Your High Priest begs your mercy, but explains that they are but mortals and their art to reform you is imperfect. The process is similar to the way you were born and just as painful, though easier, now that you have been fully formed. To do this, your High Priest will need the aid of other priests and a temple, or other suitably great structure which has been prepared to honor you. Your great godly powers can be used anywhere within your city, but beyond, must be used within the sight of at least one of your worshipers. Your immense power gives you the ability to make reality your play thing and to do anything in regards to revelry, celebration, wine, grapes, intoxication, intoxicants, madness, and fornication itself. As the weeks go by, you gather your strength and rise from your bed. Wherever you go, you are trailed by your priests who chant endlessly of your glory and might, each breath, bolstering your strength. Weeks turn into months and each passing day, you feel stronger. Finally, you come into your power and discover the use of your great and wondrous abilities, supernatural wonders which can shape reality itself. Your High Priest shows you a chamber within your temple which contains ten great silver mirrors. "Great One. Long, long ago, long before even your predecessor were crafted these mirrors, to converse with the gods of other nearby cities. The other gods are in many ways similar to you and yet in many ways, different. All are conservative and loathe change. Each sits within their city like a spider, feeding upon the prayers of their people and fearful to change. No new arts have been learned since time out of memory, with the exception of wine, your most clever gift, made about a thousand years past. While clashes at the edges of the domains of gods are common, as are cattle and slave raids, the conquest of a city is unheard of... except when a god brings change to Akkad and threatens to change the course of years. His neighbors are swift to unite against him, crush him, enslave his people and then the victors, ever greedy and jealous, turn upon each other, till warring ends and the years run again in their course. The other gods are unimaginative, oh Great One, they call you "mad" as a curse, yet your own people would take such slander with pride and instead call you "clever", for you are without any doubt, the most clever of the gods... and if we mere mortals cannot understand why you might make it rain frogs on alternating new moons, swap the minds of men and their donkeys by lottery or periodically demand the every maiden in the city be painted in pink and purple pocadots, we still fear and love you all the same. Your people are more clever than the men of other cities, who are little more than cattle, unable to make even the most basic decisions without hearing their God in their ear, even when to rise in the morning, when and what to eat and when to sleep! Any man in your city would far rather live here, even if you swapped his mind into the body of a donkey, than to be a man with the mind of a sheep in any other city!" The High Priest lowers his head further and lowers his tone as well, for he has in his exuberance pushed the borders of how any man might speak to a god, even in a city such as yours and to a god such as you. "Many cities are larger and have more fighting men, yet your city is more free than others, Holy One and other gods fear your people as a poison. Though they welcome the wine that only we can make in trade, our traders cannot spend the night within the walls of foreign cities. They would have united to crush you long ago Holy One, yet they fear the minds of their sheep may be poisoned were they to march on us, so they stay away. Still..." The High Priest gulps. "It is a time of change, Holy One. Men to the north have learned to make a new metal called iron, stronger than any other and to the east, men have learned to preserve knowledge in clay. The gods of Akkad plot even now to destroy the cities of Cimbra and Ranz, yet they move with a gods speed and it is unlikely they will act for another generation at least. Yet when Change is unleashed, all of Akkad will soon be at war and it may even come to your most Sacred Domain..."  It has been a year since that moment of indescribable pain. It is the lunar new year, when the first full moon of the year shall rise new to it's apex in the heavens, a day sacred to all the people of Akkad on which they honor their gods, after the custom of their city. Your High Priest comes before your presence and prostrated themself, pressing their head to the floor before you. "Holy One... your people believe you have slumbered within your temple, resting upon a Sacred Purpose. When the moon rises to it's apex, our task shall be done and you shall have regained all of your might. Your people await you, gathered just outside of the temple. For two years they have been without their god, tonight the moon is born anew... and they have grown fearful from their absence, troubles have sprung up among kin, food has become more scarce and dangers have encroached in the wilderness, dangers which will surely tremble again before you." You can feel the gathered throng just beyond the temple. Mine. Your people... you are on the mind of all of them, you can taste their devotion and feel the warmth of their worship building within you like a fire. Your High Priest inches closer to you. You see them beyond the temple, gathered as a great multitude. Scattered among them are your priests, altars prepared with offerings to make unto you. You can smell it in the air. There is, an orgy. Your people are gathered in their teeming masses beyond your temple and it seems they are intent to fornicate you out. They are making a very spirited effort of it. Everywhere is wine and food and flesh. Among the teeming(very teeming) masses, are several cleared pavilions and there seem to be a number of talent competitions going on. One of the pavilions is empty and two large statues of you flank it along the sides. They are waiting for you. You hear a voice from nowhere suddenly say "HEY! I WANT SOME CHOCOLATE!" You have no idea what chocolate is or where this voice is coming from, but your people are waiting. Your High Priest pulls your attention and he speaks. "Yet... Great One. All my life I have served and if you shall in Your Resplendent, Magnanimous, Boundless Mercy spare my wretched life, I shall serve you the same. I cast off my old name now and ask you name me anew..." You look down at your High Priest. Over the course of the last year you have had many suspicions, but you can sense it heavily upon his mind and now, you know with a certainty, your High Priest himself performed the ritual which made you a god, yet also inflicted unimaginable pain upon your sacred person. He has taught you many things over the course of the last year and seems to know far more than any of your other priests, knowledge which could be greatly valuable to you and difficult to replace... including your vulnerabilities. Your High Priest holds his breath and trembles. DECISION TIME! 1. A name for your High Priest A. Sebek the Sane B. Meliort the Mad C. Jebidart the Joculant D. Bob E. Something else! Write in. F. No name! Write in something very nasty you do to him instead! 2. You impress your throngs of worshipers by... A. A rain of wine! B. A rain of boiling wine! C. Tell a funny joke of godly proportions guaranteed to be remembered for generations and literally kill a few dozen of the sick and infirm from laughter! This is tantamount to teaching mortals a magical spell and is guaranteed to piss off other gods a whole bunch when it spreads! D. Join the orgy! [This will be done tastefully, don't blame me, you picked the god of hedonism!] E. An epic lightshow! F. Kill 10 people in a highly entertaining and crowd pleasing manner! G. Something else! Write in! Also note that asking your High Priest or any of your other priests a question counts as a free action and as long as too many do not get posted I will answer them between the main updates. Diogines fucked around with this message at Apr 27, 2013 around 13:32 |
| # ? Jan 23, 2013 04:23 |
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YEAR THREE OF THE REIGN OF DENZIROH - THE MADGOD YOUR REIGN SO FAR... ...as described with some dramatic flair and style and possibly not entirely accurately, including therein, many of your great, mighty and crazy deeds, but also leaving out, many intrigues and mysteries which can be discovered by reading the full and complete chronicles of your adventures to date! Some details are most certainly wrong. Others are exaggerated. Certain critical and very important details are not included. Some characters, possibly the MOST important character in the entire game so far, was skipped over without a single mention! Your greatest deeds are mostly included. Mysteries and intrigues have mostly been omitted. Direct all complaints to your temple scribes. You are Denziroh, the Madgod, a great and powerful god and ruler of your city for countless thousands of years.  Your power is immense and unquestionable to your mortal worshipers. When you decide to exercise your strength, reality is your play thing. You have complete and utter control over revelry, celebration, wine, grapes, intoxication, intoxicants, madness and fornication itself. With a mere wave of your hand, you have effortlessly turned mountains into millions of laughing grapes who shout vulgarities and flown cities upon the backs of fornicating mad eldritch nightmares. Your domain lay in the land of Akkad, a land of desert and endless hot sands, divided only by the Great River along whose banks many cities lay. Akkad is an ancient land, but a land of limited arts and knowledge, the height of technology might be said to be a metal sword or perhaps an oxen plow. Each city within Akkad is ruled by a god, your rivals, each of whom jealously guards all they possess and who look jealously towards the holdings of their neighbors. The men of Akkad are not a happy people, if indeed, they could be called people. In each city in Akkad, men live the same life. They awaken at dawn at the voice of their god in their ear ordering them to awaken. Their god speaks into their mind and instructs them to eat, dress and then depart to their labor for the day. They are instructed when to rest and when they may be permitted to work their bowels or take a piss. If not instructed when to stop laboring at night, they would work till they dropped from exhaustion. When their tasks are ended, they are directed by the voice of their god to return to their hovels, to eat and then to sleep. Men are bred and treated as beasts of burden, for indeed, the entire point of their existence is to sustain the existence of their gods by worshiping them. There are no free men in Akkad. Except for one city. Gommorah. Your city. You rule the city of Gommorah, a city at the southern end of Akkad. The only thing the people of Gommorah take more pride in than their freedom and their grape vines, is their god, to whom they are fanatically loyal and whom they greatly love, seeing him as both their protector and as their party coordinator. Gommorah is a wild city, known by some as the City of Excess, where wine, smoke and other intoxicants are always in heavy use, where fornication occurs casually and orgies are not only a part of life, but a civic duty which occurs on holy days. Your people believe that the rest of the men of Akkad are little more than animals and only in Gommorah are men free. They might be right. The other gods are hated and feared by your people. These other gods are not all that fond of you either, for your people are seen as infection and you are seen as a pest, it is believed by your advisers that there are only two reasons that the other gods have not slain you long ago. First, they fear if they were to do so, the balance of power would change, threatening their own holdings. Secondly and more importantly, they fear the infection of your madness might spread from the ashes of your corpse. To the other gods, your people are icky and you are even ickier, they do not want you on the bottom of their metaphorical sandals. Your people believe that you have existed since the creation of the world, that you first built Gommorah and that you are immortal. They are very probably wrong. Your very first memory is a moment of indescribable pain under the light of the moon three years ago. Disoriented, you heard your priests speak of you as if you were not present as they conducted some sort of ritual upon your barely conscious form. The pain of the ritual was indescribable. Buried up to your neck in sand, molten gold was poured down your throat. Indescribable pain pierced through to your very soul. You awoke within a grand temple many hundreds of feet tall, a ziggurat. You were greeted by Sebek, the High Priest of your city and your most trusted adviser. Sebek is always the voice of caution and orthodoxy, he gives you good, but cautious advice. He also claims to know more of the details of the ritual used to renew you than anyone else in your city and claims that only he and his direct descendants can perform it. Over the course of a year, Sebek taught you a great deal of your powers, your limitations and what it is to be a god. You have learned that you are not the first Denziroh or even the third. There have been many. So many in fact, that your priesthood has no idea how many of you there have truly been. For all of living memory your priests have, in secret, created new vessels for you, hiding this process from your people who believe you to be immortal. You have learned that your direct predecessor lasted 62 generations and his predecessor, 96 generations. It has become evident that your priests either do not truly know how to make a proper vessel for you, or are unable to do so for some other reason. For a year you were absent from the life of your people, your people believing that you were resting on a holy purpose within your temple. A year after awakening, with the first full moon of the new year high in the sky, you left your temple to be greeted by your people. A great festival and orgy was held in your honor. You took the occasion to teach your people THE JOKE.  THE JOKE was a jest of such immense, divine proportions that only a god such as you could craft it. Quite possibly the funniest thing ever hear by mortal ears, a small number of your people died from it's raw power, minor damage was done to your city and your people fell upon their sides and rolled upon the bricks of your city in laughter for a full week. When they rose from their laughter, the celebration continued for another full week. The party over, the people buried their dead and cleaned up the city. Through your merchants, THE JOKE has spread to many other cities, causing chaos where it spread. It is believed by other gods to be a plague of your creation. Shortly after the end of the festivities, you blessed a dozen infants, born during the Week of Laughter, The Georges with special powers and wisdom rooted in your own, divine wisdom, created to plan, orchestrate and oversee the most sick parties possible. They are now two years old. They live within your temple and you have visited often with them and their mothers. When they reach adulthood, they will be a true asset to your city and throw the illest raves which will be the stuff of legends. Shortly after your awakening, you also created the Gommorah Rangers, a small band of men and women with extraordinary powers. Lead by Jebarti, one of your priests, your Purple Ranger, with the power to piss flaming wine. Bluegar the naked, brick wielding Blue Ranger with the endurance of many drunks. Orengar, the Orange Ranger, who wields a chair as he wades into battle, immensely strong, empowered with the strength of many drunks. Bessy, your Green Ranger with her Ring of Madness. You later enlisted the undead skeleton Stabby as your White Ranger, though he is once again dead, this time it seems, for good. More recently you recruited the farmer Jeb, a man you once blessed with ridiculously well endowed genitals to be your White Ranger. You granted him an even more ridiculously well endowed set of genitals with the power to launch "projectiles" at great speed. Though tanks and rifles are of course unknown in Akkad, Jeb's genitals now closely resemble a large anti-tank rifle, complete with two extra legs at the end for support and aiming. His complexion is pale and sticky. You have been born into a time of change. The gods of Akkad have eternity behind them and they hope, eternity ahead of them. They loathe and fear change more than anything and will stop at nothing to ensure that the status quo is maintained. It is believed that all knowledge is given by the gods, yet 70 years, somehow, ago iron was discovered in the city of Cimbra, your eastern neighbor and writing, in the city of Rantz, to the south. Iron is said to be so powerful that it can even pierce divine flesh and writing is sad to be so foreign to the gods that they are illiterate. Many troubles arose during your "rest". You discovered that west of Gommorah, in an ancient crypt used by your people, the dead were rising. With a band of your people, you set out to Sodom to investigate yourself. Upon arriving at Sodom you discovered that the dead were not only rising, but organized and in a state of open revolt against your "tyrannical rule", angry at the actions of your predecessor and vowing not to rest till their demands were met, among them, wine, puppies and your death, or at least, a drat good apology.  The West Gommorah Expired Persons Separatist Front, lead by the zombie priest Vorlor, who you later discovered was once among the senior clergy of your predecessor.  You had a short, private chat with Vorlor wherein he was informed that all of the undead would surrender and serve you or be destroyed. Vorlor agreed without any argument or dissent on his end. You watched as he returned to the rest of the undead and informed them that not only did you agree to all of their demands, but you apologized for your harsh treatment of them. You did no such thing. Vorlor invented the apology, saying that you went so far as to weep over your mistreatment of them, but he begged they not speak of it, because you were very emotional and you might break down in tears at the mere thought of what you had done. The undead cheered at Vorlor's words and were quite happy. You laughed. Since that time, Vorlor has served you, mostly, loyally, or so it would seem, though he does not seem to be particularly reverent of you in private, he knows to kiss your rear end when others are around. He is a practical and pragmatic, if not very reverent adviser. You discovered some time later that Vorlor was in fact, a sorcerer. There is no magic in Akkad, Magi are rarely seen, they are universally feared and hated by all gods and men of Akkad. Vorlor claims that the popular and much loved Kadai, the deceased son of your high priest, Sebek, was also a sorcerer. Vorlor also claims it was Kadai who animated Vorlor into unlife and charged him with a number of tasks. Those tasks include, among other things, protecting Kadai's teenage son, Izariel and killing you if your people rebel against you. He also bakes excellent pies, often turtle themed, and whistles rather well. He claims to not hate you, though he does not hide the fact that he hates your predecessor, who separated him from his wife for their refusal to join in the grand tradition of communal Gommoran orgies. He has promised to heal your injuries and grant you immortality, if he can, if you permit him to experiment as he continues to try to return his wife to him. You have indulged him. So far. Upon your return from Sodom, you were stopped by a farmer who cried for your help. The nearby village of Chuckling was apparently conquered by the demon Kranzelbarti.  You arrived at the village to find that the people were not enslaved, but rather, that they had willingly abandoned you to worship Kranzelbarti as their new god. Armed with clay stones covered in written words, Kranzelbarti planned for your arrival and planned to slay you. Clay stones? Why would clay stones be any threat to you, a great and powerful god? Exactly why is unclear, but Kranzelbarti hoped to use the power of writing against you. The demon also spread a great heresy against you, telling the people of Chuckling that you were not a god, but that you were a magi and were in fact, Kadai, the son of your high priest, posing as a god, that you were not a true god and that HE was a true god. This was all news to you, news that your senior advisers have assured you is a heresy spouted by the demon to weaken you, a heresy which should be discarded and forgotten. Whatever plans Kranzelbarti had, they did not come to fruition. Though greatly more powerful than mortals, he was no match for you. For two full days you did unspeakable acts of violence to him and then before all of the people of Chuckling, turned into a great monster composed of grape vines and madness and ate him.  With your new army of undead behind you and Chuckling once again yours, you returned to Gommorah. The undead were strange to your people, but perhaps, not so strange in a city always on the edge of intoxication with a god such as you. They took their places upon your walls as it's new guards. During a brief time of economic disharmony within your city, you met Garezel, one of the most clever and gifted smiths within your city. You also met Narod, son of Naftali. When you first met him, Narod was a man in his 80s, though he appeared to be in his 50s and at the peak of physical conditioning for his age. You realized quickly that while you could see and hear him, you could not *feel* him like you can feel your other worshipers. You asked Narod for his story. You learned that when Narod was a young man, a demon known as the The Manticore tried to rob his caravan. Instead of bribing the demon, as was the normal practice, he decided to save the loot for you. He tricked the demon to come close to him, then beat it's skull in with an iron cooking pot and bludgeoned it to death. Narod skinned the creature, bathed in it's blood and ate it's heart. He gave it's hide to your predecessor as an offering, a grand and unique offering. Narod found new power from what his feat, he found that he was strong, swift, that he needed to eat little, to breathe little and to rest little. With his new power, he lead caravans across southern Akkad, gaining great wealth and also heading off on his own, to explore and travel. It is said that he has gone far beyond any other man in the city, that he has been to every city in Akkad and to it's furthest edges. From these places, he brought back many wondrous offerings and tributes for your predecessor and also grew very wealthy. For a time you were concerned that Narod might actually be the Manticore in disguise, but over time you grew to learn to trust him and are pretty sure that he is not, the Manticore. Probably. Right. Maybe? I don't know. Do you? Maybe it's time for a second thought? Naaaaah, your totally sure hes Narod. Right? He is a man much loved and admired in the city, he has dozens of wives and hundreds of children and grand children and great wealth. To the elites of your city, your merchants, he is seen as a leader. When your priests left public life for a year to see to your renewal, it was Narod who oversaw order within the city and prevented the details of your "sleep" from spreading beyond it's walls. Together with Sebek, Narod oversees the day to day operations of your city. While Sebek, your High Priest is nominally still in charge of daily affairs, a subtle power struggle has begun to grow between the two and it is not entirely clear who is winning. Impressed with his deeds, you ordered Narod to take some of his sons and a band of your merchants and set out west, to the Fallen City, your closest "neighbor", a destroyed city over a week away, buried in sand in the midst of the wasteland. You wished him to retrieve a set of magical mirrors useful for communicating over long distances, which you had hoped, lay within the city. Narod asked that you turn all the iron of Gommorah over to him for the task. You agreed. Your people had few iron weapons, but every iron tool, implement and cookery was seized and used to make makeshift iron arms and armor. With many of his sons and many of the merchants of your city, Narod set off west, into the wasteland. Demons are known to live in the deep wilderness, and so along the way, Narod went demon hunting, slaying a number of demons, feeding their hearts to ten of his sons and consuming many more himself. Ten of Narod's sons became as Narod was and Narod, became even stronger and swifter. Yet the band caught the attention of many demons, many more than they had intended and perhaps, every greater demon in Akkad, who move swiftly and have keen senses. Pursued by an army of such creatures, your men ran for their lives, hoping to find shelter within the walls of the Fallen City. Instead they found the god of law Jebart-Hi, believed to be long dead, served by a great band of savages. Your worshipers were caught between the savages and demons and fought for their lives. Though your ban of men fought fiercely, they were greatly outnumbered and outmatched. As the rest of the band fought the demons and savages, Narod dueled the god Jebart-Hi himself. Fueled by the power of the demons he consumed on his journey, Narod was able to pierce the flesh of the great snake god with his iron spear as he cried out your name.  You felt a great surge of power and for a moment, felt brief flickers of omnipotence. You left your city, literally soaring through the roof of your temple, flying into the heavens themselves. This was thought to be impossible. While your power is immense, it is known that you need to remain near your worshipers to maintain your existence.  When you could rise no higher, you saw saw a Golden Throne, seemingly sitting above all. Waiting for an occupant. You walked towards the throne and were tempted to sit, but you hesitated for the briefest of moments. Feeling as if you had no limitations, you stretched forth your mighty hand to block out the sun itself, a sight seen by every man, woman, child and god in Akkad. With your great and momentary power, you smote every living and unliving thing within the Fallen City, saving your worshipers, slaying all of the savages and so your advisers believe, every greater demon in Akkad. You turned your eye back towards the Golden Throne, ready to claim it as your own... You felt the last of your great power fade. You fell from the heavens.  In the midst of a great fireball, you fell, crashing into the middle of you city and losing consciousness. As you slept, you roused briefly, brief enough to see that Sebek was sacrificing the villagers of Chuckling to try to awaken you by boiling their women alive in wine. You told him to cease and fell back into unconsciousness. When you next awoke, you discovered that Narod took your actions as a sign and in your name ordered the city to prepare for war against Koa, the god of war and smithing, your north eastern neighbor. When you asked him what the hell he was doing, Narod claimed that he was acting under YOUR orders as part of some long standing plan you had made with him for decades. You have no memory of such a plan. Narod was not supposed to know of your amnesia, what exactly he did in preparing for war is still unclear. Did he know of your forgetfulness and invent the plan, one he seems to be greatly in favor of, did he follow the orders of your Predecessor?  You decided to follow Narod's plan, or perhaps, your plan and lifted your city from the ground and flew it upon the backs of great eldritch beasts of madness. As they fornicated with each other. Slowly. Towards Cimbra. Along the way you to Cimbra liberated the mining camp of Iron Hills, worked by slaves, many of your own people, taken in raids by Koa's soldiers, as well as others captured from nearby cities. The most noteworthy slave was Kuret, a priest from the city of Saman a'Ra. Clever and equipped with a silver tongue, the liberated priest tried to swift talk you into using him as an envoy to al-Muli Kssabi, the god of gold, greed and commerce. You asked Narod for his view on the matter. He thought the man a traitor and an idiot and asked that Kuret be turned over to him. You agreed. Diogines posted:Narod grabs Kuret by his arms and jumps down to the balcony, he motions to two of your guards who grab the screaming Kuret. Much to the unahpiness of your orthodox and conservative clergy, since that day, your people have worshiped you as the Onegod, except for a few who remain silent, believing the entire thing to be a particularly hilarious joke that you have come up with. Days later, using the hills for cover as you flew, you landed your city at the outskirts of Cimbra and turned one of the hills into billions grapes to clear a path. As the grapes tumbled, they shouted taunts and foul vulgarities towards Koa. You expected to arrive without being seen. The instant the grapes cleared, you saw that Koa, with his entire army ready to fight, stood ready beyond the gates of his city. Koa stood at the head of his army. Armored in iron. It was believed by all of your advisers that it was impossible for gods to manipulate iron in any way, yet Koa found a way. With this weapon, Koa believed he would conquer Akkad. This was very probably an excellent plan. There was a bit of a hitch in that plan. You. You entered the armor through the eye holes, something no other god would be insane enough to do and struggled with Koa within, keeping him occupied whilst releasing the demon Kranzelbarti from your gullet and feeding him the bronze lining within the armor. During the struggle, the armor was destroyed and you, Koa and Kranzelbarti fled. Kranzelbarti was quick to take a handful of the Chuckling villagers, those still loyal to him, mostly children you crippled in retaking the village, their mothers and a handful of others. With his worshipers, Kranzelbarti fled the battlefield. Koa grew hundreds of feet tall...  He held out his hands and threw a great wall of flaming metal at your army.  Not to be outdone, you turned into a tortoise as equally enormous.  You reached forth your ridiculously giant tortoise genitals and struggled with the wall of molten metal with a wall of semen. As you and Koa played a game of tug of war, your armies engaged. Koa's force was large. Larger than expected and though it was expected to be well equipped, it was even more well equipped than expected. Despite the actions of your Gommorah Rangers, the fanaticism of the freed slaves of the Iron Hills, despite the fanaticism of the Men of Chuckling, despite the zeal of your Merchants. Despite ten thousand Undead. Despite the immense, supernatural strength and speed of Narod's sons, you were losing the battle.  As your army began to crumble, Narod snuck upon Koa and dove his spear into the back of Koa's neck. Koa let forth a great cry, the earth shook, every item made of bronze, copper or tin within both cities melted and the walls of each city partially collapsed. Again, you felt a brief flicker of omnipotence. You burned Koa's spirit as fuel and used it to craft the Pimp Cane of Life.  .An immensely powerful artifact useable by man and god alike, capable of turning sand into fertile land, sickly plants into thriving gardens, and heal almost any injury, even raising most deceased beings to life. With the battle ended, you looked to see both cities partially destroyed and more than ten thousand people dead, fighting aged men as well as women and children within the cities. You stretched forth the staff and raised to life all of your own people, as well as most of the dead within Cimbra itself, but left dead most of the Cimbrites who fell in battle itself, dead. The people of Cimbra were enslaved, you consolidated your conquest and passed out the spoils, then discovered a hidden treasure hidden beneath Cimbra.  A metal forge, powered by a bubbling fountain of magma, an endless source of fuel, which will enable you to craft immense amounts of metal and perhaps, an army even better armed than Koa's... Slightly more than a year and a half has passed since you conquered Cimbra, the full details of which shall be revealed... Tomorrow. Sleep well, Denziroh. Feel free to join us on irc #madgod on synirc.net while we wait! http://chat.mibbit.com/ Diogines fucked around with this message at Apr 27, 2013 around 13:31 |
| # ? Jan 23, 2013 04:23 |
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B. Nem Teshet, the Hungering Flame, Lord of Peshem, the Great Maze The waking world is but kindling for the funeral pyre of humanity. also mazes are cool imo
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 04:51 |
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C - God of Let's go biblical villain on their collective asses.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 04:54 |
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B. Nem Teshet, the Hungering Flame, Lord of Peshem, the Great Maze It's cool and intriguing.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 05:29 |
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C. Denziroh, Master of Madness and Revelry Lets see how eager our invaders are when they're crying molten gold and puking their guts out.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 05:46 |
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B: Nem Teshet, the Hungering Flame, Lord of Peshem, the Great Maze
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 05:47 |
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B The Maze God because we are gonna be a religion with spooky mystery rites, like all the cool gods have. Also minotaurs 
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 05:47 |
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C. Denziroh, Master of Madness and Revelry Clearly the most goon-appropriate.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 05:51 |
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Nathilus posted:C. Denziroh, Master of Madness and Revelry Don't be stupid--goons don't get invited to parties.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 05:58 |
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B. Hungering Flame God It allows us to be merciful at times to our followers because dead men feed no hunger (more than once anyway) and still allows us to incinerate our enemies (and subjects) whenever it pleases us.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 06:12 |
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F. Scarlett Johansson, Goddess of white booty, city of Confusion and Sales.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 06:32 |
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C C'mon goons, this is our chance for Shivering Isles: The CYOA. If you know what I'm talking about you know it's the only real choice.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 06:47 |
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C. Denziroh, Master of Madness and Revelry Most definitely the answer here.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 07:08 |
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C Gotta go for madness.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 07:11 |
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E. Beralaf, the Leaflord, Lord of Theropi, the Green City Doing the weed option.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 07:22 |
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Gotta go with E.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 08:07 |
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C Let's go crazy. Let's get nuts.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 08:16 |
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C I will be very disappointed if we don't get a hoard of raving mad, limb tearing Bacchanals to go with it though
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 08:35 |
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C A god of madness AND partying? I can't vote fast enough.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 08:55 |
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C obviously.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 09:33 |
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We are the God of Las Vegas. C. I'm surprised and disappointed that no one has cast a write-in vote for Dongs, Father of Cocks, Lord of Penises, City of Dicks.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 09:36 |
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C cause madness and excess, YAY
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 10:25 |
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Bill Nye, the Science God of Nerdsville. Let us see what conservatives think of that god.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 10:48 |
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C. I wonder how awful our parties will be?
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 10:57 |
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b
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 14:25 |
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C, lord of 
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 14:26 |
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 E. Beralaf, the Leaflord, Lord of Theropi, the Green City
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 14:36 |
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B
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 14:43 |
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What is wrong with all of you obviously it's C. Denziroh, the Madgod, Master of Madness and Revelry, Lord of Gomorrah, the City of Excess
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 15:05 |
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traveling midget posted:What is wrong with all of you obviously it's Nope, he gets nuked by the Jewgod. Edit: put spoiler on it because some are only following the TV-series. Hogge Wild fucked around with this message at Jan 23, 2013 around 15:11 |
| # ? Jan 23, 2013 15:06 |
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traveling midget posted:What is wrong with all of you obviously it's You and your false Gonorrhea God can eat a dick.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 15:22 |
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Nem Teshet sounds neat. 
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 15:31 |
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C he sounds like he has the most fun at parties
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 16:06 |
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B. Nem Teshet, the Hungering Flame, Lord of Peshem, the Great Maze is the only logical choice for proper supervillainy! Great OP, Diogines! Looking foreward to see how this plays out  vvvv But B is Tzeentch! Freudian slippers fucked around with this message at Jan 23, 2013 around 17:06 |
| # ? Jan 23, 2013 16:21 |
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This looks fun and I want in. How about... C. Denziroh, the Madgod, Master of Madness and Revelry, Lord of Gomorrah, the City of Excess Because Slaanesh.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 16:47 |
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C. Lord of Gomorrah We had better get options to have depraved sex with every man, woman, corpse, dog, camel, and rock we meet. All described in graphic detail. 
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 18:05 |
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B.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 18:10 |
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| # ? May 19, 2013 04:36 |
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Although the hungering flame is the most interesting choice, we're talking about a god whose inner monologue is going to be a hundred goons arguing. There's really only one option here: C. Denziroh, the Madgod, Master of Madness and Revelry, Lord of Gomorrah, the City of Excess That's a good name. Fits you perfectly! Now, let's see what you're going to look like when you're all grown up.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 18:13 |
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