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+1 to Illarin  1 dark muttering
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Apr 13, 2016 02:03
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| # ¿ Apr 25, 2024 14:51 |
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DQ Mmmmm blizzards
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Apr 15, 2016 05:01
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B Downwards, King. Flee.
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Apr 16, 2016 17:37
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We've seen the surface of the earth. We need to go deeper. We need to see. Choose B
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Apr 16, 2016 18:45
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Swedish Thaumocracy posted:What lurks Bneath? Bless you sir. STRIKE THE EARTH
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Apr 16, 2016 21:43
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1.A 2.A Become.
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Apr 18, 2016 15:29
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B Dig, oh mad King. The surface holds only pain and shame. Here in the deeps you are reborn, but deeper still lies your birthright. Dig. There is nothing left behind you but your sins.
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Apr 19, 2016 20:52
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E They have forsaken their god, and so have forsaken our teachings. Return to the underground, teach the true inheritors, the Anomalice. We will return one day.
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Apr 21, 2016 17:37
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Tarix - God of Whispers First Emergence: 1d100+1:81
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Apr 22, 2016 07:26
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A slip in the waves. The thinnest of egress. A quiet turning dances on the winds. The god that dare not speak its name. Hail Tarix 
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Apr 23, 2016 07:46
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 Tarix- God of Whispers 3HP The Verre hid in shadow. Darting to and fro, without purpose save survival and curiosity. One hunter, Quintzite the thrice-pure, did not stand out. The heat of his birth had struck his crystal flesh without pigment nor facet. A curse, his family whispered. Perhaps they had done something wrong to anger their goddess? They could scarcely see his face and so thought the child was born without soul. Qunitzite grew up a pariah amount nomads. The isolation hardened his resolve, swearing to become the greatest of the Verre. And so Quintzite did. No Verre could hide within a sunbeam. No Verre could claim the pips of the crawling dice-things of the Mad King's domain and return unscathed. No Verre could steal a page of the sheet music of the Grand High Silvurtle and replace it with a ruder version. Quintzite could, but none would believe one as transparent as he. The harder Quintzite tried, the more shunned he became until, with heavy heart, Quintzite simply disappeared. Far to the northeast on the edge of the lapping ocean a clocked figure sat casting shards of glass into the seething water. Skip....splash...sizzle Skip....splash...sizzle Skip....splash..."shhhh". And all became quiet. The crashing waves struck silently, the wind disappeared and even the low thrum of Quintzites Crystal heart ceased. The walls in between pulled taut as...something began to push through. Quintzite sat horrified as he watched an inverted image of himself lean out of a tear in the air. Tarix simply smiled and drew a thin finger to his lips. A low voice danced across the ether and found purchase in the ears of the Pariah.  "Quintzite of Verre. Sometimes the loudest voice is the most quiet. You must warn the people. A war is coming. The Mad King threatens all with his abominations. Whisper this in all the quiet places. Your name will forever live in the shadows. I, Tarix, God of Whispers commands this of you my disciple. Listen for me when the air grows still. Now run. They are after you." The dark Quintzite then begins to slip back between the walls, leaving a dumbstruck mortal reeling. After a few moments alone the Pariah turns to his task and runs out into the night. Warn The Verre that war is coming 1d20: 10 Arkanomen fucked around with this message at 04:25 on Apr 25, 2016 |
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Apr 25, 2016 02:00
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I think it's still open though?
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Apr 26, 2016 16:59
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Tarix- God of Whispers On the night of darkest night, in a certain valley where an ancient river bed crosses a deep chasm of crystal. Here the winds cease to blow, any sound dies away and the air grows still. One of the few truly quiet places in Somewhere. They were known only to a chosen few, the Chosen of Quintzite. His few disciples gathered at these places. They spoke of rumors, secrets, wishes and plots. All of things whispered in the dark that the Verre have heard. There the Pariah and his scant followers spoke in the barest of whispers of everything going on in Somewhere until one day, they simply began to speak of Somewhere itself. What was the ocean? Why do the Gods die? What are the stars?  That night the last question was asked and what little sound there was, was silenced. The Chosen began to panic, arms flailing and mouth flapping uselessly. Quintzite was not afraid. He motioned for the Chosen to calm themselves for their whispers would be answered. The wall between Somewhere and realm of Tarix warped and shimmered as a thin blade of glass cut through. The Inverse form of the Pariah stepped through. The Chosen again stirred, their god walked among them. Their panic and jubilation were short as Tarix drew his blade to his lips and sushed them. "Chosen of my Champion. I have heard your faint pleas for clarity. You wish to know the secrets of the stars. Ponder in ignorance no longer. Above the ocean lie the unborn children of gods. There they struggle, fight and die like mortals. The strongest of us are able to cut through to here and for a brief moment, cast our power out into the people and the land. Like the shrill cry of birth, soon too will I fade away into silence, but I will show you the true secret of existence..."  Tarix reached back into the void and plucked a single point of light from the heavens. The little wriggling thing twisted and thrashed in Tarix's grip but soon the whispered words of the predatory god broke the little wisp and power began to quickly dissipate from its broken form. The gathered quickly took the scent and felt the sharp resonance of their people. "Fragile and Sharp. Anyone can be a god. Wisp or not, One must simply command the power without rancor or falsehood. Be not afraid, the smallest are less than a grain of sand in consequence, but the power they hold..." Tarix seized the remaining power of the dying ball and shaped the stuff of Nowhere into the Glass of somewhere. 7 blades. Simply starter tools for each of the Chosen, while Tarix's blade is handed to Quintzite. "I give you the second of my messages. This is the secret of the Verre. Only those of glass can wield the power to cut between the walls and catch the smallest of the Wisps. The knives are simply tools to focus your will. You will outgrow the need." The gathered Verre were shocked. Some began to explore their gifts, and even poking a few quickly sealed holes in reality. Quintzite watched and smiled, even taking a moment to catch a small mote of Wisp through his experimental cut. He watched in amazement as the little spirit was quickly forged into a glittering bracelet of glass and even had enough energy left over to heal a faint scratch on his arm. Tarix was pleased, but gave caution as he stepped back into the Between. "Do not abuse this power. Cast too large a net into the deep..." At that moment something massive surged past the rift, bubbles of Nowhere rushed into existence and quickly popped. A gargantuan eye drifted past, silhouetting a smiling Tarix.  "and only your catch will hear the screams." Teaching the Verre Glass Magic 1d20 : 14 Arkanomen fucked around with this message at 06:20 on Apr 27, 2016 |
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Apr 27, 2016 05:51
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Cmon guys, one more wisp for Tarix and we can bring about a new age of magic!
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Apr 27, 2016 15:41
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Nononono don't close it Tarix needs one more wisp!
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Apr 27, 2016 17:26
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LuiCypher posted:We're moving past it and it's fine, but we should probably institute a rule that you have to specify your action before rolling on it, so that the action can be named as part of the roll. That's what I had been doing, at any rate. You have to put something in the description of your roll. It's generally considered poor form to make it vague.
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Apr 27, 2016 22:36
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Glass Magic can be used by anyone with the will to seize the wispy means of God production.
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Apr 28, 2016 01:21
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Tarix- God of Whispers 3HP Tarix smiled as he watched his chosen people enter into quiet, contemplative thought. Their tearing at reality wasn't unpleasant either. The secrets of life and death were there, if only you took a moment to listen. There was a thunderous crash from the little silver creatures. Their music soon grew into rancorous noise, shattering the peace of the land. This would not do, it would not do at all. Unburdened by the Verre's prayers, Tarix drifted into the tortured land of the Mad King. So quiet and peaceful. The broken forms of the slave dice people made no noise and the low groans of the still living mixed with the unholy chittering of the abominations. A quiet place.There, in the distance was the throne room of the Mad King Deesix. He sat muttering to himself, cradling his prized possession, eyes darting around the room. Tarix had watched the last age and took the guise of his dead tormentor, Illarin. Appearing as a ghastly shade in the shadows the broken bodies of his kinsmen cast, Tarix whispered in the ear of the Mad king.  "Ahhh, you still live oh Great King Deesix. I was right you know. It was all your fault. Your people are broken and suffer under the abominations you call brothers. What would our dear Amyhdahl say to you now?" Tarix darted back into the shadows laughing as the Mad King fumed, striking a long gash into the wall where only shadow stood. His voice morphed again, changing to the God of Broken Promises. "It wasn't my fault, King DeeSix. We were betrayed. The song of those Silver Turtles. They learned how to shape the world with music. They twisted my hands and I became undone. We became undone." The King was enraged now, arms flailing, hissing at every shadow that danced. Tarix began to pull back, his tone quieting and the shadows drifting back into shape. The shape of Illarin dancing and laughing in the background, taunting the broken from of Amyhdahl. "Listen...to their song...anger...war...they are coming to finish us...to finish...you..the Silvurtle march...to war...I'm sorry.." And then the voice was gone and Tarix made to exit the cursed land of the Mad King. Tell King DeeSix that the angry song of the Silvurtle are a call to War against him 1d20: 8 Arkanomen fucked around with this message at 06:39 on Apr 28, 2016 |
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Apr 28, 2016 06:08
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Well the Verre are getting transmogrified so I guess getting crushed by a comet is a destiny I can't fight.
Arkanomen fucked around with this message at 16:41 on Apr 28, 2016 |
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Apr 28, 2016 16:39
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Those are lyrics from from the song DK mentioned. I'm fine with Uguu's action and wisp how you want. We're both above 10 and most people have wisped so we're by getting to 20 so it's all good.
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Apr 28, 2016 17:13
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Tarix the God of Whispers The war had begun. The Dice people were not prepared and would soon join the Silence. Perhaps some would survive, but to die in freedom is preferable than a life of bondage. The quieted Silvurtle and their aquatic companions knew war now. The struggle of life and death would harden them, strengthen them. A lasting people. Tarix smiled as something began to wither inside him. The season was turning and soon it would be time to grow silent. Tarix had one final task. The Verre lurked within their forest of glass, hiding from the din of war. They mourned their brethren brave enough to lend aid to the righteous, despite the grumbling of their god's champion. Tarix whispered into Quintzites ear to gather all he could and that it was time to perform the final act. Quintzite nodded, for they had long ago whispered of this inevitability. The Verre were called to one of the Quiet places in Somewhere. A grove of giant Glasswoods that stretched high into the heavens. There Tarix addressed his catlike people, a bitter chord teased his final words. "My beloved Verre. The time I spoke of is coming. I will pass on soon into the great silence." The crowd said nothing, their sorrow evident in the folded ears and drooping tails. Quint approached the dark figure, it's color seeping away even now. Tarix looked up into his champions eyes. "You have done well by your people Quintzite. Keep them safe and in the darkness of the night cut away to greater things. You are all so fragile. Lives cut short. I wish to give you a final gift. " The nearly faded Tarix struggled to stand, the illusion of a Verre body gone, revealing a dim wisp. The final words of Tarix shook the congregation in silent power. "My life may be cut short, but yours will be Cut no longer. Join me, my dear Verre, and let us cut away your Fragility. The quiet should never be silenced!" Quintzite seized the dying Tarix and crushed the remaining power from the dying God. There was a great flash of light, and all sound died away from the world. Quintzite then turned the power into a great hooked blade. In other realms it would be called a Scythe, but to the Verre it became known as a Riftblade. And a rift it did open and Quintzite channeled the will of his dead God. A hole into the very fabric of somewhere, where the soul of his people lay. Quintzite and the gathered could feel themselves in that rift and for a moment knew what it was to be a God. Their fragility became evident now, a minor chord in the quiet song of the Verre. Quint reached around the aspect, drew it into the reality of Somewhere and brought the sharp will of a dead God down quietly upon it, the blade wobbling in Quintzites hand. The last thing Tarix knew in its brief life was fear. Cutting away the fragility of the Verre people 1d20: 6 Arkanomen fucked around with this message at 04:14 on Apr 30, 2016 |
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Apr 30, 2016 04:04
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Puppies are dicks posted:-1 Tarix Might be time to start!
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Apr 30, 2016 05:11
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Art makes the update. It's worth it to wait.
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May 3, 2016 04:00
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Tarix The world closed around Tarix, as did the hungry maws of The Pyrexalted. They feasted. It hurt. Dying was painful, but in that pain Tarix slipped back into the darkness of between. He watched his little chosen Verre stumble through the dark and hack away at that which made them weak. The cut was sloppy, jagged and crude. But it was a good cut and thus the Verre were transformed. STRONGER now. It was getting cold. The land felt warm. Tarix found a little quiet spot and what was left of his consciousness settled down. It grew stiff and still, forming into something else. Something Machinery Growth Change e: I can shill too. Choose Quintzite the Pariah for your next Adventure! Immortal, Invisible and has a cool weapon! He knows the one weird trick to control reality. Wisps hate him! Arkanomen fucked around with this message at 00:55 on May 4, 2016 |
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May 4, 2016 00:24
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J P
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May 5, 2016 00:42
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A Learn to cut. Learn well and visit the Master.
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May 6, 2016 03:15
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1D 2C
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May 7, 2016 19:20
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D
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May 15, 2016 22:00
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Have we seen descriptions of the new Artifacts yet?
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May 20, 2016 20:12
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+1 to Tezcota The Verre keep no secrets from their own.
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May 20, 2016 21:01
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You can change your wisps later though so don't freak.
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May 20, 2016 21:17
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+1 to Fitumo 2 Wispings 00/- - remaining
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May 25, 2016 22:31
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Oil, Steel, Shadow
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May 28, 2016 01:56
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-1 Glum Sorry bro, gotta spend em. Wisp count: 3 00/0 - left
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May 28, 2016 06:24
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-1 to Mason The time draws near. The Veil rips. 4 Wisps
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Jun 2, 2016 16:09
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J P
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Jun 6, 2016 20:23
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 their island literally falls into the ocean and tidal waves everything, Best of luck in the ChromeDome.
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Jun 7, 2016 17:33
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CCCC Long live the Communist Czarpublic of Cretinous Cows!
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Jun 8, 2016 00:19
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EE Turn inward and look into your own mental curse leave my babies alone. They just want to make glass and pet catdeer!!
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Jun 10, 2016 18:13
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| # ¿ Apr 25, 2024 14:51 |
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changing to DA get rekt u joke of a champion.
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Jun 10, 2016 18:29
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