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Tyrannosaurus
Apr 12, 2006

Iokana - the War Path
AP: 4/8, FP: 2/2, Damage: None

And so it was done. "Victory" if you could call it that. Yet even in its unsatisfying form, Iokana had had no part in earning it. That knowledge left a bitterness in her mouth similar to the bogslime she'd so foolishly fallen into. She felt shamed and... something else. Anger? No. Something more than that.

Something worse.


OOC: Changing Hunger: Perfection to Hunger: Deicide. I won't be using it this age.

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UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice


Sylvia was dying. She needed Panacea, but the Toan guards refused to let any such medicine through. They claimed it was ‘foolish’, and that the queen would be better off meeting her Judgement and being reborn, but Lucius knew what they really meant - they were executing her, slowly, discretely, with the killing force of age. Plausible deniability, you see? Well, unfortunately for them, his network of Servant informants had direct access to Sylvia. It was a simple matter to twist the crime boss Julius’ arm and divert some of his flow of the wonder-drug to the queen.

Lucius ordered his own men to take the drug as well. If they lived forever, that was all well and good - they’d become more and more experienced, and outstrip the Toan occupiers - but mainly it was to cure the sicknesses they suffered from living in the foul undercity. As for himself, he took none - mysteriously, he was always the picture of good health.

Lucius: Sneak Sylvia doses of Panacea: 2d6+2 10 >= difficulty 7 - Lucius successfully uses his contacts among the Servants to get Panacea to Sylvia. This action is uses base roll for his deleted action (see up the page), hence why it’s different on orokos.

-



She knew her own Orrery inside out, and this one was only a little different, so the act of re-working it to follow a different scheme was trivial.

Just as she was making the final changes, she felt the world tilt and roll. Red smoke swirled along the ground and the blue sky swirled and vanished into eigengrau. A grinding voice echoed from outside the dome: “Looks interesting! Mind if I mess around a little myself?”

Ananke felt the phantasmal hand - or claw - of another god touch the machine, and then parts of it began to rust off. Its function warped under the weight of two gods’ changes, into something darker. Those afflicted by the machine would feel the full weight of the truth on their shoulders - compared with the gods they were insignificant specks. Divine power was the only power that mattered. Resistance was futile.

The new machine towered over Ananke - an austere, inert doomsday-sensation device.

“Uh, whoops?”

Modify the machine to instill doubt of the gods: 2d6+6 13 >= difficulty 11 - Ananke succeeds in modifying the machine to slowly inspire mortals to doubt the gods rather than turn them into automata.
Amplify the machine's effects on mortal desires: 2d6+2 5 < difficulty 9 - Glister fails to amplify the effect of the machine on mortal desires. It has the opposite effect, weakening people’s desires until they become virtually catatonic.


-



The giant beetle-man looked down at Sharon with what might have been pitying eyes - or might not have been, it was hard to tell with that grille over the front. Maybe they were aggravated? Wistful? …Remorseful, tinged with lust, perhaps???

“Time, young woman, is omnipotence, it’s a way to make all this meaningless strife meaningful. To control Time is to control everything - if you were me, to conquer everything. Unfortunately, in order to control Time you must slay the one who currently holds power o’er it - a fierce and ancient titan. He was old even when I was young. If he has a name, I have never heard it - hence,” he dismissively waved his hand, “’Time’. He watches everything. He knows everything. He will kill me and my men when we face him in battle. Of these things, I am sure. Now, go. You would not survive witnessing our battle.”

Time is a titan, immensely powerful. Taking his heart (and the Titanic Domain of Time) would give anyone, mortal or god, nigh-omnipotence, for hopefully obvious reasons.

-



Not even overtime was enough to deal with the situation in the Halls. It wasn’t that any more people were dying - life expectancies were longer than ever and most Reapers spent their days helping at the Halls, following up cold cases like Te Ariki, or just lounging around on the banks of the empty Styx. No, the problem was the backlog. A century’s souls wandered the Halls and their grounds. Some were even from the Scion’s attack and the Toan invasion of Stonehallow. More modern souls marvelled at this relics, stuck out of time by the celestial bureaucracy. No matter how much Julia’s lieutenants worked, they never seemed to make a dent in the number of people awaiting or receiving Judgement, but at least getting back into the old familiar routine seemed to ease her stress.

Alyciel: Working overtime (reducing Julia's FP): 4#2d6 6 8 7 8
Stan: Working overtime (reducing Julia's FP): 2#2d6+4 10 11
Alyciel gets nothing 9 or higher, but Stan gets a couple of hits thanks to Purity +4 (ignore what it says on orokos, I realised afterwards this was a more viable way to do things). Julia loses 2FP.


-



First on the to-do list for Julia herself was retrieving the Scion’s soul. She could feel strands of it drifting carelessly in the air around the Makaha. Each was caught up in the mantle - no, oddly, each fed into the mantle, as if it was - it had - eaten them. But it wasn’t quite like when Sysa had devoured mortal souls so many years ago. She could still hear the faint sounds of battle, the Scion’s shrill and unanswered call, the First Makaha’s battlecry, the screams of soldiers. They were coming from inside the Makaha.

Taking a deep breath, the god put her hands inside the layers of the mantle and forced the whole thing open - and saw Hell. Not her Hell, but definitely a Hell of some kind or another. Deep down in the Makaha was an endless blood-slicked pit. All of its victims still fought an endless battle down there, in a world cut off from light or life.

quote:

The Makaha could only be worn by those who loved so deeply it was their motivation for everything, so deeply they’re willing to sacrifice their lives and souls for it. All those who’d don the Makaha would gain incredible prowess in battle, but even in victory they’d perish, their souls trapped within the Makaha itself in a horrifying and endless battle against the souls of everyone and everything the wearer slew with its power. It was a personal Hell, of sorts - an unlicensed and unpredicted afterlife operation that seriously needed to be shut down.
First things first, though. Julia wrenched the dozens of captive souls out of the endless battlefield. The First Makaha and the soldiers of Stonehallow were shattered by a century of unceasing war, and lay on the floor of Julia’s office, bleeding and blinking in the light. The Scion simply kept on fighting. It madly slashed and pummelled everything in sight until restrained by Julia’s iron words. Without the power of fate behind it, it no longer had staying power in a contest with a god.

Julia: Retrieve the souls lost to the Makaha: 2d6+6 17 >= difficulty 11
The Makaha: Keep its hold on the souls: 2d6+6 13
Julia successfully retrieves the first Makaha’s soul, the Scion’s soul, and a slew of Stonehallow soldiers’ souls, despite the Makaha’s best efforts. Note that this doesn’t resolve the underlying problem.


-



“Yes, I know of the warring titans. Two of them, locked in battle. Space and Entropy. As far as I have seen, they are evenly matched, and will remain so forever. I want my staff because nobody can be allowed to disrupt them and shift the flow of battle one way or the other, or worse, to kill one of them. That would be… disastrous.”

She reached out with a gauntlet.

“Give it back to me. Now.”

-



First Faustus tried to reprise his role from the game of tag to distract the Bog from its meal. It briefly followed him - then cautiously retreated and turned its attentions back to Toa. It seemed the Bog had had enough of divinities.

Then came Iokana’s Beloved, the Second Makaha, the People's Champion, bold and ferocious and utterly undeterred by the Bog-beasts. He carried only a knife, but he cut them down as quick as they fell on him. The predators had found their match, and circled warily around the new apex predator, but still the Bog’s attacks continued. It wasn’t enough to slay a thousand thousand more of these monsters - the Bog was the land itself, and the land was destroying Toa piece by piece.

Hunger’s Bog: 15
Faustus: 14
The Second Makaha: Defend Toa from Hunger's Bog: 2d6+8 14
Both Faustus and the Second Makaha fail to defend Toa from the Bog.


-

AP/FP count:
Ananke - 2/8AP, 3FP
Faustus - 5/8AP, 8FP
Garolian - 8/8AP, 4FP
Iokana - 5/8AP, 2FP
Lady Julia - 6/8AP, 10FP
Nochtli - 1/8AP, 7FP :siren: Gluttony in Crisis

Alyciel - 0/4AP, 0FP
Stan - 0/4AP, 0FP
The Makaha - action remaining, 9FP
Lucius - 2/4AP, 3FP

Glister - 4/9AP, 5FP
Jugo - 3/8AP, 2FP
Dorme - 8/8AP, 0FP
Hunger’s Bog - 0/8AP, 9FP

Total - 44/93AP, 62FP

Julia and Iokana get 1AP each for answering their Prayers.

UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 01:03 on Dec 19, 2016

Tyrannosaurus
Apr 12, 2006

Iokana - Toa
AP: 4/8, FP: 2/2, Damage: None

Iokana watched passively as monstrosities of every shape and sized spilled out of the bog towards the gates of the Empire's capital.

"At least these are things they can fight," she said. And fight the Toa did. Paladins locked shields and withstood onslaught after onslaught. Gloryhounds and drugged out berserkers lept from the rampart walls to engage surging flood head on. It was beautiful and Iokana couldn't help but summon her stringed instrument and play along to the sounds of battle: the clanging of shields, the clashing of swords, the screams, the shouts, the battlecries. Mokohonu would be flooded with new recruits tonight.

After a while, she stopped playing. The tides were not turning. The Toa were being pushed back. Where was her champion? Where was the Makaha? She quickly appeared in her chosen's home.

He hadn't left. He still stood behind the door. He was still protecting his baby sister. Iokana tapped him on his shoulder and had to take a quick step back as he lashed out in surprise.

"Easy," she said, softly. "Easy there."

"Thirdmother!"

"Yeah. That's... me."

"What are you doing here? Did you hear my prayers? Did you come to answer my prayers?"

She hadn't. She hadn't really been listening to anything Melodic Ha had been singing for a while. She smiled knowingly anyway. "Of course," Iokana said. "I have heard you and I have come to give you my blessing." Clearly, her chosen hadn't looked in a mirror lately. Or looked at his now massive hands. Or his tattooed arms. Or noticed the monster skullhelm he was wearing. Or noticed the thousands of flowers that were wrapped around his--

Iokana shook her head. She made a mental note to not choose a child next time.

She clapped her hands and a shimmering mirror appearing letting the Makaha see himself as he was now. No longer a little boy but the People's Champion. Then she reached inside his head and tickled his brain, triggering all the war training the mantle brought with it. "Protect your sister," she said, "by protecting your city. Go. Go!"

She grabbed the front door and swung it open.

"Go!"

Tyrannosaurus
Apr 12, 2006

Iokana - Toa
AP: 5/8, FP: 2/2, Damage: None

The Bog kept coming. Like the rising tide.

"Is nothing enough slay wretched thing?" Iokana said with a sigh. "I supposed I'll have to compliment Nochtli at the very least."

Iokana soared out of the Makaha's home and over the raging armies. She made sure the Toa could see her. She flashed a wicked smile, summoned a spear, and hurtled into the bog. She landed ironically close to where she had fallen in her competition with the rival wargod.

"That is enough from you," she hissed. "You have become a thorn in my side and I am tired of it."

She dug her hands into the mud. She pushed them deeper and deeper and through things that don't exist in the mortal realm. She reached for the bog's essence. It's heart. Heart being metaphorical. Probably. She didn't really know what she would find there-- perhaps some kind of grotesque toad-- but she would know she had it when she did. She would grab it, whatever it was, and she would squeeze it and if the damned bog didn't do as she said she would rip it out and she would eat it.


OOC: Taking +3 FP so this thing doesn't gently caress up Iokana's Great Works. Also using 1 of the Bog's FP for self-preservation.

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

Lady Julia - Where the Mahakana is
AP: 7/8, FP: 10/10, Damage: None

Julia was not an excessively emotive sort of God. Frowns and sighs were the usual fare on her arsenal when it came to expression, barring exceptional circumstance like the murder of her child. This, however, was one of those situations where something a bit more grandiose was due, as an expression of abject horror spread on Julia's face. Souls locked in eternal torment, not based on any judgment, or any deed other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Suffering for no reason, for no purpose. Returning the soul of the Scion to Nochtli was a mere afterthought at this point, as Julia gazed at the abominable construct she was dealing with.

"Sister", she croaked through the aether, "Explain to me this... thing that you have made."

OOC: Giving Nochtli the Scion's soul back and also asking Iokana what the HELL is the deal with this thing because man this has got to either be fixed or destroyed.

Theantero fucked around with this message at 01:47 on Dec 19, 2016

Shogeton
Apr 26, 2007

"Little by little the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him"



Garolian - The Maelstrom palace-Highwater

He hesitated, and his pride stung at this intruder, so rudely entering his abode. Yet considering how he had angrily walked into Julia's halls, could he truly claim supremacy here? And had she not watched the bitterest, pettiest sides of him here? What reason indeed did she have to trust him with the staff? Naturally, her words could be false. Yet if he was to mistrust any god to such a degree without any reason, than how could godwar be avoided? In a way, it was a war between the two sides of him, the thirst for power and the urge towards charity.

And so, Garolian extended his hand with the staff. "Then I return to you what was once yours, you whose name I know not yet. Considering its strength and potential, please do not abandon it again. Though should you make the people suffer with its power, there shall be bitterness between us." The artifact was yielded then. "Often, the people suffer because of that eternal battle. I had hoped to perhaps end the battle in a way that would cause none to fall. Yet you know more of them than I do. Should you say they can battle forevermore and none should ever fall and flood the world, I shall heed those words. Yet still, their steps cause death." He extended a hand. "The first attempt I made to make a lake to absorb the strength of the floods...." She looked at the crushed helmet. "Ended bitterly. Could we then now in a gesture of peace bundle our forces to protect the people from further death at the unknowing and uncaring steps of these titans?"

"And then. There is the matter of Faustus. Twice has he slain gods. I would not kill him. Yet I would seek to prevent him from slaying thrice."

Proposing a team up to do something about the floods, which I presume are still happening since I snake eyed on my last attempt

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

Lady Julia - The Halls of Judgment
AP: 7/8, FP: 10/10, Damage: None

"Heyyyy sup Stan", Sharon nodded her head towards the demigod, "Congrats on the promotion by the way! A really shiny domain that, really fits you! Drinks later?" She coughed a bit, "But anyways, there seems to be some sort of sentient Bog wrecking Toa? Julia mentioned something about it needing to be dealt with, but seems she's a bit busy so I suppose that kinda falls on you."

She shrugged, "I mean, you're a devil right? Couldn't you just, like, burn it down or something? It's just some wilderness that happens to be crawling about after all, isn't it?"


OOC: Maybe Stan can take some FP to try and stop the Bog's advance?

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice


Dorme grabbed at the staff as Garolian handed it over. Her eyes glazed over - just for a moment, then she slipped it through a loop in the armour around her waist.

“Faustus. Faustus…” Her arms bunched together behind her, and the moon they formed disappeared. “A Godslayer. Yes, it would be sensible to prevent him from slaying again. Goodbye, river god. Take care of your flock.”

Without even introducing herself, she was gone.

-



Whoever lived in the marble spire was seemingly… unavailable at present, but as Faustus scanned through the tower’s contents he noticed particular books in the chaos. Their covered were embossed with faintly-glowing Icons, five of them, one to each book.



He moved to open one of them - and the tower wall exploded under the weight of innumerable punches. His follower fled into the musty depths of the library-tower. A figure wearing a tower of silverwhite armour stepped through from outside, its many hands brushing away the billowing dust. She stood as the dust settled, and spoke in a voice like moonlight: “Godslayer. Your reign of murder is at an end. Sleep now and forever, and be forgotten by mortal men.”

Then the blows rained down on him from every angle - not to kill, but to render him unconscious. They struck with needlepoint precision at particular parts of his body, and though it barely hurt, Faustus did feel his mind slipping away into oblivion.

(Non-lethally) attack Faustus: 2d6+8 16

Dorme is trying to put Faustus to sleep - essentially regular combat, but without the brink-of-death mechanics. She spends 1FP of Faustus’ in the attempt.


-



Down there in the deepest darkness, far below the water, the muck, the earth, the stone, Iokana heard the alien pulse of something that had no right to have a heart. It was an uneven, quivering beat, yes, but a heartbeat nonetheless. She gripped the sound with both hands and squeezed, and felt the Bog scream and relent far above.

Hunger’s Bog: 15
Iokana: Stop the Bog from destroying Toa: 2d6+8 15
Iokana just barely scrapes a successful Interference. The Bog still beat its base target for the action, so Toa is in a bad state, but still, things could be worse.

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice
THE FOURTH AGE, THE AGE OF TRIALS, HAS ENDED


GLUTTONY IS RESTORED





Far upriver, the Homo automata continued their simple lives in the burgeoning Need’s Respite. The burst of technological development that created the iron Orrery seemed a faint dream by now. The Orrery still stood, however - modified by Ananke and accidentally warped by Glister into a soul-crushing machine. It only needed to be switched on.

In the Empire, half its lands suffered death and disease inflicted by Hunger’s Bog, their populations rapidly dwindling to nothing as they fled or perished. In Toa, mortals and gods alike fought the Bog to a standstill, at a terrible price. Downriver, the Empire fell into confusion - without Toa as an administrative centre, the faltering war effort in the flatlands lost all remaining strength. The roughlands culture kept the cities from warring with each other, but it was only a matter of time before they fractured into city-states again.

In Stonehallow, centre of the known world, Lucius and his revolutionaries prepared for their triumphant return to the surface while the Toan occupiers fretted over the recent lack of messages from home.

In the flatlands, the Sensus Corporis questioned the role of the gods in worldly strife more and more by the day. Certainly, there were some gods that played little part in bettering the material world, some that actively threatened them, and some that used mortals as playthings - the only god who had widespread approval in the university was Galarian, though he’d fallen silent as of late. Where was the Giving God?

The rest of the flatlands worshipped Galarian - and paid tribute to Ferolian. The Wardens succeeded years ago in driving out, slaying, or converting all those that hoarded wealth or spent their fortunes on luxuries while the common people starved. Now Sartalion-Highwater led the way in a bold new federation of cities that defied the Toan Empire through kindness. Healing magic and widespread Panacea given freely by the ex-demigod Margaret meant illness and death were things of the past. The world here was prosperous and at peace.

-

He watched. He waited. Everything was in flux, if not on the surface then underneath.



Chaos was always the most interesting part of existence. The predictable conquerors and their mechanical men, so easily defeated? Not so much.

THE FIFTH AGE HAS BEGUN

-

This transition is a bit non-standard. AP is being set to 7 (plus 1 for each fulfilled Prayer, so that’s 1 to Julia, Iokana, and Faustus). Prayers from the last transition can still be answered. Any further prayers that come in will be posted as soon as I get them.

Secondly, there won’t be any Crisis rolls. It just wouldn’t be fun to spend the end of the game with poo poo dice. There
will be a Crisis roll in each character’s epilogue, though (assuming they survive), to guide its direction.

-

AP/FP count:
Ananke - 7/7AP, 3FP
Faustus - 8/8AP, 7FP
Garolian - 7/7AP, 4FP
Iokana - 8/8AP, 5FP
Lady Julia - 8/8AP, 10FP
Nochtli - 7/7AP, 7FP

Alyciel - 4/4AP, 0FP
Stan - 3/3AP, 0FP
The Makaha - action remaining, 9FP
Lucius - 3/3AP, 3FP

Glister - 8/8AP, 5FP
Jugo - 7/7AP, 2FP
Dorme - 7/7AP, 0FP
Hunger’s Bog - 7/7AP, 8FP

Total - 84/84AP, 62FP

UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 02:52 on Dec 19, 2016

TheFireMagi
Nov 6, 2011

...She's behind me, isn't she?

Faustus - The Marble Tower
AP: 7/8, FP: 5/5, Damage: None

So many books to choose from. But which to start with? One Icon in particular caught his attention, lined in a dark blue-

And then the tower walls exploded around him. Faustus stared at the sudden intruder, completely baffled as to what was actually going on.

“I’m sorry, but do I know-”

Then a rain of blows fell upon him, much to the God’s surprise. Hard as he tried to avoid or deflect the newcomer’s attack, there were simply too many to defend off entirely. A particularly solid blow knocked away his mask, though he managed to catch it before it flew off to who knows where.

Defense against Dorme: 2d6+6 14

“That… didn’t hurt quite as much as I expected, actually. However, I must say that ‘reign of murder’ is perhaps a bit over dramatic, even for my tastes. Two is hardly a reign, and I have already expressed a great deal of regret over the second. For that matter, the records would show that I originally had no intention to slay Rea Sysa either.”

Readjusting his mask, Faustus turned to face Dorme with open palms. He did not know this goddess, nor why she was even assaulting him, but she hardly seemed malevolent. She didn’t have any killing intent, for one thing, and he would know. Besides that, she apparently was here due to his reputation as a Godslayer, which seemed a benevolent enough motive. Just his Luck, he thought, or lack thereof that this would happen now. Still, if she wasn't out to kill him, perhaps there was another way of handling this.

“I do not know who you are, goddess, but I must ask that you cease your attack on me. A Godslayer I am, this I do not deny. But I have already… learned the errors of my ways, you might say. No longer do I hunger for the blood of the divine, lest they are a threat to my Pantheon, my family. Even then, I believe I have shown a great deal of restraint as of late, as you shall know if you simply ask my sisters Julia and Iokana. Please, for the sake of my aching jaw, can we not settle this without violence?”

OOC: Ow, that’s a failed defense roll. Faustus, however, is not going to retaliate and is asking to settle this without getting his rear end handed to him. That would be because he’s taking a lesson from Margaret’s book (despite not managing a chat with her during the Fourth Age due to my poor time management), and is changing his Hunger for Revolution to a Hunger for Peace. Unfortunately, that 3 FP spent on Peace didn’t work out so well! Alas. Also, trading in my 5 AP from last Age to get rid of 5 FP as per the OOC thread.

TheFireMagi fucked around with this message at 04:06 on Dec 19, 2016

Iron Chef Ramen
Sep 15, 2007

HA HA! YOU HAVE CHOSEN POORLY!

Nochtli - Need's Respite
AP: 7/7, FP: 7

"I just need you to sign here, here, and date here, and you can have your package. Uh, one soul? Sound right?"

LEAVE.

The denizens of the Respite began roaring and buzzing, nearing the location of the angelic courier carrying the soul of the Scion. The angel wisely dropped the parcel and disappeared.

The will of Nochtli descended onto the small, black gem currently encapsulating the Scion's remnant soul.

YOU ARE BROKEN. WHAT HAS HAPPENED?

He reached a tendril of his power into the gem, and felt horror. Battles everlasting, murder, pointless carnage. His Scion had experienced this for the last 100 years. The soul continued to mindlessly lash out with what power it had remaining, but was too weak to accomplish anything. Conflict and bloodshed were as natural as eating and mating, but this, this was wrong.

I WILL CLEANSE YOU, MY OPUS. YOU STILL HAVE A PLACE AT MY SIDE.

The gem wobbled, cracked, and finally shattered, releasing a red haze that wildly flailed in every direction, until Nochtli's power calmed it, focused it. Vines and trailers from every nearby plant slowly reached towards the soul, caressing it, enveloping it, until nothing could be seen but a pulsing floral cocoon, wrapped tightly around it's ward.

Nochtli then turned his attention to Need's Respite itself. His own hunger had proved greater than himself, and Hunger's Bog had broken free. He felt a lessening of his Hunger, as now the Bog was experiencing the mirrored Want of mortals. Nochtli could shed himself of Gluttony, could freely become a lesser God of Need, and frolic in the Respite for all eternity.

Yet he could not.

Nochtli experienced a revelation. He understood what the Creator had designed for him. His duty was to carry that Hunger, to keep Man thinking of their own Needs, that they could not
be overcome by their own Want. The Bog did not understand that, did not understand that it was an instrument of balance in the world, and only sought to sate it's own Hunger. Nochtli, with his own inner power of Need, could withstand the Want of mortals.

Nochtli's strength returned. Need's Respite began birthing a new form for Nochtli's will to inhabit. The Bog must be destroyed.

OOC: Changing Self-Destruction hunger to Duty. Using an action with Need +2 (so 2AP) to purge the Scion's soul of any lingering influence from the Cycle, the Mahaka, anything that will prevent him from becoming the creature of Need he once was. Have a feeling that trying to make a demigod out of what he's become would be catastrophic.

Iron Chef Ramen fucked around with this message at 20:42 on Dec 19, 2016

Iron Chef Ramen
Sep 15, 2007

HA HA! YOU HAVE CHOSEN POORLY!

Nochtli - Need's Respite
AP: 5/7, FP: 7

A long, serpentine form erupted from underneath the ground in the center of Need's Respite. Obsidian black, bearing sharp ridges all along it's spine, with a maw that could expand larger than the tallest tree. This was Nochtli's new creation, a vehicle for his war with the Bog. The will of Nochtli gently settled into it, coiling and flexing the massive body, entwining it around a mighty tree and squeezing until nothing was left but splinters. Satisfied with his control over his body, Nochtli let loose a mighty roar, and his creations at Need's Respite gathered to obey their God.

As he continued to bellow, the creatures around him took up the song, the ground rumbling underneath them. Nochtli drove them to a fever pitch, then as one, he and his new swarm charged into the Bog, determined to end it's madness, and regain Nochtli's hunger, Nochtli's duty.

- - - - -

Hunger's Bog

Respite's Swarm drove deeply into the Bog, their sudden aggression catching it's barely sentient mind off-guard. Nochtli's voice thundered over the cacophony.

YOU WILL SUBMIT AND SUBSUME YOURSELF TO ME, OR I WILL DESTROY YOU AND RECLAIM THE POWER I ENTRUSTED YOU WITH.

Nochtli's ophidian incarnation dove deeply into the Bog, greedily devouring his stolen power, while his creatures slaughtered the Bog's minions en masse on the surface, using their God-given power to consume their energies and deny their flesh to the Bog.

- - - - -

Need's Respite

The Scion's verdant cocoon pulsed with the newly formed heartbeat of it's occupant. Black ichor slowly dripped from the bottom, the embodiment of the indignities suffered by Nochtli's opus. A new creature slowly formed inside, birthed by Need's Respite to house the nascent divinity of the Scion. Soon Nochtli would have his companion.

OOC: Only action is attacking the Bog (Gluttony +6, so 2 AP all day, and using 1 FP of the Bog, again appealing to it's Hunger for Self-Preservation, so +8 total). Maybe someone could help out?

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice


One by one, the alien influences on the Scion’s soul let go - the chains of fate, the Makaha’s tendrils, the long trauma of death and afterdeath. It was pure once more. It was ready to hatch again.

Purge the Scion's soul: 2d6+2 9 >= difficulty 7 - Nochtli successfully purifies the Scion of all the negative influences on it. Go ahead and say what it's metamorphosised into!

-



“Hmm, let me just…”

Glister’s shrouded presence seeped through the iron Orrery. Something clanked and mechanically purred inside it, then the noise faded away.

“I think that’s done it. Maybe? Give it a whirl, mate.”

Reverse her mistake: 2d6+2 6
Reverse her mistake: 2d6+2 9 >= difficulty 9 - Glister reverses her earlier mistake. The machine will now spur people to act on their newfound doubt of the gods and trust in each other - when activated.


-



The god stopped her attack as brutally as she started it, paused mid-blow with a hundred clenched fists.

“Not a threat? I’ve heard that all before. Prove it.”

Faustus Primal Domain: Luck is damaged.

-



Nochtli dove into the Bog, but it had already adapted to Iokana’s attack. The heart was buried deeper than before, beneath layers of obfuscation and camouflage so dense that the great god found himself twisting and turning in primordial darkness rather than cutting through to the Bog’s heart.

Nochtli: Attack the Bog: 2d6+8 13
Hunger’s Bog: Defend against Nochtli: 2d6+8 15
The Bog successfully defends after spending 1FP of Nochtli’s.


-

AP/FP count:
Ananke - 7/7AP, 3FP
Faustus - 7/8AP, 5FP
Garolian - 7/7AP, 4FP
Iokana - 8/8AP, 5FP
Lady Julia - 8/8AP, 5FP
Nochtli - 3/7AP, 6FP

Alyciel - 4/4AP, 0FP
Stan - 3/3AP, 0FP
The Makaha - action remaining, 9FP
Lucius - 3/3AP, 3FP

Glister - 4/8AP, 5FP
Jugo - 7/7AP, 2FP
Dorme - 7/7AP, 0FP
Hunger’s Bog - 7/7AP, 10FP

Total - 75/84AP, 57FP

UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 18:06 on Dec 21, 2016

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice
Prayers echoed over warped space-time, some old, some new:

quote:

Great Goddess of knowledge and Fate,
I have read the tales of old al-Haytham, who bore witness to such sights and sounds and wonders. I ask of you, as much as I can safely comprehend, what does it all mean? Who was that great being from whose speared heart the river flows? Who or what speared it in the heart in the first place? Will the river ever stop, if that being bleeds out? Why was it so bright and colourful there? What should we do with the knowledge of what we have seen?

quote:

"Galarian... of late the Wardens of Want have been making great strides in turning the other lowlander cities towards your kind ways, but in doing so, I fear we've erred by not being as strict and punishing as perhaps we ought have been. Men and women of darker natures, the very ones we so easily identify, have gathered in bands and gangs at the edge of cities, for their own protection. They hound travelers and traders, attack farmers and vagabonds, strike in the night to perform sabotage and worse deeds best left unsaid to the people who support us. If we pursue in numbers, they leave, go to some other city. If caught and beaten, they surrender and promise to reform... before slipping away to return to their old ways at the first opportunity. We have taken to harsher measures, but our ways do not allow for the cruel latitudes that seem necessary to reform these scoundrels, and so they are growing ever more numerous and bold. What aid can you give us in facing these unrepentant souls, Galarian?”

quote:

"Those, those dirty, rotten MONGRELS! How dare they! How dare they turn their backs on me! Ferolian! I hear you are an enemy of Galarian. I pray we can make common cause…”

quote:

Great and kindly Garolian, Where do you want the latest tithe of musicians?

quote:

Destroyer, maw whose hunger never ends, throat whose thirst is never slaked, I beseech you. Stonehallow lies in ruins, but the poison of want over need runs thick in its veins, and the shambling corpse of it will rise up again. You sent your locusts twice to feast on its carcass, or so the histories say, yet always you leave the kernel to regrow in its cancerous blight, always drawing in what it does not need. I implore you, wipe this God-Forsaken place off the map! Purge it forever so that no more will it regrow and metastasise! Erase it, now and forever, to break the cycle of putrid desire!

quote:

Mighty all-consumer, that which eats what it touches, you inspire us. Will you allow us to serve you willingly, in all that we do? We wish to carry out your bidding and assist you in that which you seek.
Just collecting the unresolved Age 4 prayers (aside from Faustus, who was interrupted in the process of resolving theirs) and some new prayers received during Age 5.

Iron Chef Ramen
Sep 15, 2007

HA HA! YOU HAVE CHOSEN POORLY!

Nochtli - Stonehallow Underground
AP: 3/7, FP: 7

In the caverns beneath Stonehallow, deep beneath the twice-rebuilt city, lived a man. A crazed man, shunned years ago by those he called friends, ranting about Want and Need and Hunger. He subsisted on mushrooms, an underground stream, and whatever he could steal from the city above. He was trying to emulate the existence of Nochtli's automata, but still felt the tug of want, of comfort, and railed against it.

Crazed Man posted:

Destroyer, maw whose hunger never ends, throat whose thirst is never slaked, I beseech you. Stonehallow lies in ruins, but the poison of want over need runs thick in its veins, and the shambling corpse of it will rise up again. You sent your locusts twice to feast on its carcass, or so the histories say, yet always you leave the kernel to regrow in its cancerous blight, always drawing in what it does not need. I implore you, wipe this God-Forsaken place off the map! Purge it forever so that no more will it regrow and metastasise! Erase it, now and forever, to break the cycle of putrid desire!

Versions of this prayer were written on the walls and ceilings of the tunnel, beseeching the Hungry God to finish the job he began 300 years ago. On deaf ears it fell, until one day, it's whispers met the awareness of Nochtli.

The man was harvesting mushrooms when water sprang from the ground. As the water filled the small cavity, an automata stepped from the surface. Tanned, wearing a simple woolen cloak, and bearing the telltale black-smeared eyes. The man, having heard the tales, knew he was in the presence of his God, and fell to his knees. The automata stood stiffly, his eyes glazed, and began to speak.

"Mortal. You misunderstand my purpose. I am not the destroyer of Man. I force Man to forever move forward, to progress, playing the part of the darkness nipping at their heels. When Man grows too fat and stagnant, I show them the error of doing so. I will not destroy Stonehallow, even if it would sate my Hunger.

"Yet I see that you suffer. You feel the poison of Want strongly. But you are mortal, untouched by the Gods, and cannot escape it. I offer you a choice. Continue this existence, in this cavern, attempting to deny what you are. Or take my envoys hand, and follow him back into the waters, to my Respite. If you follow, you will be subject to the same blessing I have bestowed upon the automata. Choose."

Nochtli's envoy extended his arm and waited for the answer, as the divine waters behind him churned.

OOC: Answering the old prayer. Will figure the other one out later.

Fathis Munk
Feb 23, 2013

??? ?

Ananke - The Orrery
AP: 4/8, FP: 3/3, Damage: None

Hunger's Bog

Ananke did a quick check of Glister's repairs. As far as she could tell everything should work juuust fine.

"Good job sister, let's give this thing a try!" The glee was obvious in her voice.

The goddess of fate teetered on the edge for an instant, for her this was a pretty big interference, then kickstarted the Iron Orrery

Starting this thing up, if a roll is required, Fate+6

Shogeton
Apr 26, 2007

"Little by little the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him"



Garolian - Highwater
AP: 11 FP: 0


For some time after the other god left, Garolian stayed in the castle, letting time pass. It was not an easy thing for two gods to merge, and he wished not to accidentally be the cause of death or injury, unused as he was to his new powers. Yet the prayer of mortals called him away, and he set out to answer them. For a new generation of musicians had come. And Garolian went to the people and he said. "Know that Galarian is no more, and Ferolian is no more, and there is now Garolian. Much tribute have I taken, yet no more shall I take, for I have no need of it. Much fertility have I given, yet no more shall I take, for you have no need of it. You have all grown kind and helpful. And I need not worry that one of you shall go hungry, even should the harvests no longer have my blessing. No, now my powers shall preserve that which you are. And let your songs be the vessel through which that blessing is brought.

And Galarian raised his hand, and the singers felt a new song rise from their throats. It still had a kindness to it, yet brimmed with a power. "Power is no evil if sought for the sake of aid. The farmer seeks to be strong to better aid his fellows. The Warden who perfects his skill in battle to protect others. Power is as important as food. And just as food, it must not be hoarded, but shared. Let it be so, if the Communion is threatened, by man, by beast or by god. Let the voices of its members be able to shield them from those who would destroy them, those who would enslave them, or those who would warp them without their consent. Let always the strong protect the weak, for charity is not only for those with plenty to give those with need. It is also for the strong to protect the weak. For those alike to welcome the different. And have it known that as with the art of healing, this is not a power that can be compelled or used selfishly."

Use 1 AP to have hte aciton, 1 AP for the Protection apex to teach the people of the Communion the ability to shield themselves from harm by singing in a choir. More singers is more protective power, and explicitly letting that power also protect against Divine Power. Making no exception from the powers of Garolian himself. Also, if the previous tributes are still around, they get granted their freedom/were granted their freedom as soon as Garolian could[. This probably also counts as answering the prayer
The Power of Song: 2d6+6 15


Thus spoken did he turn towards the Wardens of Want, and their commander, Silas and he spoke. "Much have I delierated on your worry. Those who prey on the kind, but falsely show repentance? What to be done with them. Is it charity to let them go, or to hold them? And I say now to you that to let them go is to show kindness, but not charity. For not only shall others suffer because of their renewed predation, they too bring harm upon themselves as the stains on their souls will bring them years of suffering after the merciless judgement of Julia's court. And so, it falls to you to provide judgement and charity both, Silas. Should you decide that a man or woman is unrepentant and dangerous, you shall give them a lavish meal, and you shall give them whatever drink he wants that they ask and is within your power to give. And then you shall take him to the River, and you shall hold their head under water until death. Always shall it be the one who condemns to be the one to execute."

"For mark me. You are fallible, as even the gods' judgement is fallible. Again I say, mark me. You will condemn the innocent. You will let go of the guilty. In life, this burden will weigh on you, and in death, Julia shall weigh them. Such is the burden of your charity. But Goodness is not found in Purity. Only those who do nothing, can do nothing wrong. You have power, use it. Use it with humility, in service to the Communion and your fellow man, but use it. To remind you of this, you shall have this." and he reached out and handed Silas the beggar's staff he walked with for so long.

"It was never more than a beggar's staff until now. Long have I walked with it among humanity, enjoying their charity and kindness. Now, let it be a symbol of the authority of the Leader of the Wardens, and infused with Power for him to protect their fellows. When I founded them, I deliberately forbade the Wardens from holding possessions or take money from the people. You live on the charity of the people, a beggar order. So that you do not become like the proud Toa, with the strong holding contempt for the weak. That there be balance. As you give your toil and strength to the rest of the communion, so does the communion give their food and shelter to you. And so, let the symbol of your power be not the sword, or the spear or even the shield. Let it be the beggar's staff."

Using 1 AP and 1 AP for Power +2 to create a Super Weapon for the Warden of Want. The Beggar's Staff. Nothing particularly fancy, just a staff that doesn't break and is really good at wrecking the poo poo of someone coming to start poo poo with the Communion. And have it be the symbol of authority for the leader of the Wardens Create the Beggar's Staff: 2d6+2 14 Booyah

And that done, Garolian left the Flatlands and the communion, and far downriver he went. No longer did the water so easily carry him after his change. Much more a stranger to these waters was he now than ever before. But it was good. No longer was he a stranger watching humanity from the shadows, hoping to be invited, or a bitter tyrant harming them from afar, or a kind benefactor delivering his blessings. No, the nameless god who knew not mankind and knew only the flowing of the river was long gone. Humanity was all that Garolian cared for now. Should the river, should water itself become a threat to humanity, he would not hesitate to destroy it utterly. No longer could he call it his element. Humanity was his element.

And so, he passed the Black Mirror Lake and came upon the river. "River. The last time I came here, you were my home, my element, and I sought to adapt you , to give you a place to rage far from people. Yet I failed, and your waters did something that has changed me. Now, changed, I stand here, no longer as a friend. Blameless are you of the floods, caused by the titans fight, but blameless too are the ones this kills. And so, this time I do not coax. This time I do not ask. I am Garolian, I am a GOD! And I FORBID these floods that endlessly claim lives! I DEMAND that when the waters come upstream, that these waters hold and be allowed to flood the plains only slowly and steadily, that they may cause the lands to become fertile, yet cause no harm. So do I protect the people. And you, as the waters are, and as I was, will yield."

Using 1 AP for the action, and 1 AP for Protection +6 to just straight up forbid the river from flooding, causing the waters to just stop and become a straight up wall of water as they rise, and just allow it to steadily pass through so it can flood in a steady way to allow the nourishing floods, but no more deaths.Preventing Floods: 2d6+6 12

And finally, did Garolian make one last thing. From the most beautiful marble in his palace, he crafted two bracelets, or perhaps it would be better to call them shackles, splendid as they might look. And in them he infused powers of protection. Not for the one wearing them. No, protection AGAINST the one wearing them. Twice had Faustus killed. And he could no longer be indifferent to it.

Going to forge some bracelets that would prevent a god from causing harm to other gods, and don't come off. Using 1 AP to get it started, and either 1 AP for the Protection Domain, or 3 FP for the Desire to Protect, depending on how you wish it. Create Limiting Bracelets: 2d6+6 14

Assuming I get to use all these AP as I intended. I have 8 AP from last age, 7 from this one. is 15, 4 I use to burn my FP, 2 on the singing, 2 on the Staff, 2 on the Flood prevention and 2 on the shackles. Leaving me with 3 of them. Two prayers are answered though, so I should be at 5

Shogeton fucked around with this message at 00:01 on Dec 22, 2016

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice


The iron Orrery came to unholy life at Ananke’s final touch. The stars and planets in its mechanical orbits aligned in ways she’d never seen before - though soon she found it hard to even focus her eyes on it. It was definitely still there, but it faded away into darkness every time she turned its direction.

It was an anti-divine masterpiece, and slowly, soul by soul, it turned humanity against the gods.

Activate the iron Orrery: 2d6+6 15 >= difficulty 11 - Ananke successfully activates the iron Orrery. Humanity’s fate is slowly altered as the machine changes the fate of individual people, magnifying their doubt of the gods and trust in mortals. The change will be in full swing by the end of the Age, causing religious schisms everywhere.

-



As the choirsong died down, the people of the Communion looked at one another with newfound determination, and silent resolved: The Communion shall unite the human race under the banner of humankind.

15 >= difficulty 11 - Garolian successfully creates another form of magic, in which choirsong protects against harm (including divine harm), proportionate to the number of people singing.

Silas took the staff reverentially - it was a mere gnarled stick and a relic of his god’s holy travels at the same time. More than that, it was an indestructible weapon. It didn’t have the raw nihilistic power of a vorpal blade, but it was a symbol of the greater power the Chief Warden had already achieved through word and deed. On tyrants they’d make their war.

14 >= difficulty 7 - Garolian successfully creates a minor divine object, the Beggar’s Staff - a staff that never breaks.

The river itself cowered under Garolian’s glare and shrivelled against the sea. The next time the titans’ blows rang out the river rose as a wall of water that went nowhere, much like the Maelstrom Palace. Instead, the raging tide slowly seeped out, neutralising the violent floods while preserving the peaceful ones and everything they did for humanity.

12 >= difficulty 9 - Garolian successfully (this time) resolves the flooding issue by commanding the floods to halt, forming a wall of water that peacefully disperses upriver, carrying all the benefits of peaceful floods with none of the drawbacks of the violent ones.

The manacles weighed heavily in Garolian’s hands. This was no mere holy staff, or choral aegis. They were the greatest of commitments bound up in two simple bracelets. No god who wore them could take them off, and neither could they do harm to another god. The only problem was that a god need to willingly don the manacles - otherwise their protective power vanished.

14 >= difficulty 13 - Garolian successfully creates a set of bracelets imbued with the power to prevent a god from slaying other gods. They can’t be removed by the wearer.

But despite all the great god Garolian’s gifts, he was still a god. The iron Orrery slowly fed doubt into the Communion’s hearts and minds, pitting their trust in their god against their doubt of all gods.

-

AP/FP count:
Ananke - 5/7AP, 3FP
Faustus - 7/8AP, 5FP
Garolian - 5/7AP, 0FP
Iokana - 8/8AP, 5FP
Lady Julia - 8/8AP, 5FP
Nochtli - 3/7AP, 6FP

Alyciel - 4/4AP, 0FP
Stan - 3/3AP, 0FP
The Makaha - action remaining, 9FP
Lucius - 3/3AP, 3FP

Glister - 4/8AP, 2FP
Jugo - 8/8AP, 0FP
Dorme - 7/7AP, 0FP
Hunger’s Bog - 7/7AP, 10FP

Total - 72/84AP, 48FP

Glister and Jugo’s leftover AP go towards purging FP, and Jugo keeps the last point.

Shogeton
Apr 26, 2007

"Little by little the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him"



Garolian - Marble Tower
AP: 5 FP: 0


It brought sadness to Garolian to see humanity doubt him so, sadness, yet not wroth, for they were justified in their distrust, were they not? Had he not given them the very tools to protect themselves against even himself? For now, there was another matter. Rushing towards the marble tower, he showed up just as the fight concluded, carrying his new creations.

"Not wrong are you to distrust him. The first casualty might be considered simply an accident, a lack of caution, but the nature of the second slaying suggests even the first kill was little regretted. Yet no death need to be today, nor even eternal sleep, which is close to death. I have brought these restraints. Wear them, Faustus. Put them on out of your own free will, and know that you will never harm or kill another god again. If your intent is truly repentance, then this is an opportunity to prove it."

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

Lady Julia - The Halls of Judgment
AP: 7/8, FP: 10/10, Damage: None

Alyciel sat at her desk, like she was wont, deeply engrossed in the minutiae of her work as usual, in likeness of her superior. Even her office at the ivory vaults of Heaven was an almost eerily identical facsimile of Julia's, even if somewhat more tidy. Only roused was she when three knocks, perfectly paced, sounded from her door and a seraph stepped in with a sharp salute, bearing with him a gilded ivory letter with a bright jade seal. No words were necessary, for Alyciel immediately recognized the priority missive, and accepted it with a curt nod.

Alyciel's missive posted:

Alyciel,

I hope this missive finds you well.

As you might be aware, Ananke, my dear sister, has once more gotten herself involved in one these inscrutable agendas of hers. Normally this would be no matter, but the implications this time are of such intensity that in all honesty she should have consulted the Pantheon first. Even the Halls and our mission is affected to a degree, but thankfully only to such that I am confident can be addressed, and thus there is no need to contest her deeds. And this is why I approach you, Alyciel, for I feel you the most able agent to make these plans come to fruition.

For you see, Ananke has activated a divine artifact of sorts, that makes mortals question the divine. Now, certainly, both you and I know that the nature of sin is very much based on fact. However, the mortals have thus far only been given these rules of ours as commandments and direct divine teachings. Thus, should their faith in the divine falter, the Lawspeaker institution might suffer, and with its downfall the necessary knowledge that mortals ought to know of sin might fade. And constantly having to go back down to teach them, especially when their minds have been turned against us, would be just a frankly dreadful waste on our resources.

Thus, this is what you're to do: Integrate the Lawspeakers, and the teachings of our laws and virtues more deeply into secular modes of thought and philosophy. Integrate them into the cultural zeitgeist to such degree that they become common sense. This shall be our angle. This way the mortals will remain knowledgeable of the nature of sin, even if they call it by other names, and shall know the guidelines for a virtuous life and the necessary steps to salvation, even without realizing our involvement.

__________________

Stan, waking up, couldn't help but notice a priority missive on his nightstand next to the ashtray.

Stan's missive posted:

Stan.

One of the Titan's seems to have come for a visit. I'd rather you not waste your strength until we know what its intent is.

Keep an eye out.



OOC: Alyciel gets to secularize the lawspeakers, to hide the tenets of virtue into less theological models of philosophy, to get past the whole 'people distrusts gods' thing. After all, they will still be judged by one, regardless of what they believe.

Stan is to stand by in case the Titan does something that needs addressing.

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice


The iron Orrery clicked and whirred away, but something else drew Ananke’s attention - another prayer, writing itself into her travel journal, written by a centuries-old scholar of the Sensus Corporis:

quote:

"Oh secret goddess of fate... mankind has advanced far. We have elixirs of immortality, servants of cog, blades capable of cutting gods (they say); all inspired, perhaps, by the divine, but created and maintained by mortals. Contrast these with the cruel vagaries the divine has inflicted on Stonehallow and the new tales of dark-hearted manipulative deities, not you, surely not you, but... have we arrived at an age when mortals should take up arms against the divine? Is it truly expected of mortals to fight gods? How might we prepare for this?”
-



Toa expressed itself through song, even in prayer, it seemed. Iokana heard a song oft-repeated in the public houses and market squares of Toa and its closest cities:

quote:

"Great and mighty mistress true,
Save us from the boggly grue,
Save us from the plague, too,
That would be nice, for sure.

Great and mighty mistress war,
Save us from the grunting boar,
Save us from the beetle corps,
That would be nice, my god.

Great and mighty mistress broad,
Save us from the locust squad,
Save us from the poison clawed,
That would be nice, my friend.

Great and mighty mistress send-“
-



Faustus was well-attuned to his closest mortal servant’s prayers, but this one seemed more urgent than most:

quote:

"My lord, Lucius is taking more and more charge of the affairs of the Servants. I'm afraid he's all but co-opted them for his own aims. If you had a plan, I fear he intends to move without you, soon.”
-



Another scholar from the university put forward his ideas to the great celestial bureaucrat:

quote:

"What will happen when I die? I feel no loyalty to any of the gods, no sense of following, it's all just... dogma and suppositions and philosophy. What even is a god, after all? Why should I put my faith in any of you? And, assuming I have a soul, what gives the gods the right to judge my life and decide where I am to head in the hereafter? Am I not allowed self-determination?”
-



For all that the flatlands felt the blessings of their god, they did not turn inwards. Many among them prayed for the rest of the world to receive the same blessings and benevolence (though fewer and fewer asked for divine intervention every year):

quote:

"Great Garolian, it seems to me the Toa have been suffering needlessly for too long. Could you perhaps go help them, like you have us?”
-



A mortal arrived in the City of Dreams, found the unfathomable portal to the underworld, trod its well-worn steps, came face-to-face with a god, and asked the ultimate question:

quote:

"Glister! I have read the tales you once shared with Nayef, and the thought consumes me: what IS the greatest treasure at the world's end? Can mortal hands grasp such a thing?”
Glister simply sighed and sent him away.

-



While she waited for Faustus’ response and eyed Galarian’s marble manacles, she heard an unexpected prayer reverberate around her armour:

quote:

"Peacekeeper? Are you still out there? I have read a few ancient tales of your exploits in a book here at the Sensus, and it seems to me important that you get to know this, if you still heed mortal prayer. Weapons capable of slaying the gods are being made in Stonehallow by Iokana's smiths. I fear for the future of the world when such terrifying things are being made at a war goddess' behest.”
-



The hermit shivered and looked up at the emissary for what seemed like an Age, then grabbed at his hand.

“Do it! Cut out this tumorous Want, suck out the poison, purify me!”

As he spoke, Nochtli heard another Prayer - this time from an ancient troglodyte who’d broken free of Glister’s illusions by pure chance:

quote:

"Mrgh. Hagh? Cajfk. Hh...hhe... help. Anyone. Help. I... want out of here.
Remember, the troglodytes are in the City of Dreams, Glister’s dream-locked Haven.

-



An apprentice of the original smith of the god-slaying vorpal blades called out to one of the many gods who might grant him direction:

quote:

“The blades of my old master can extinguish the life from all it touches, even the gods. Surely the Good mother did not intend for such works of art to lie fallow. I wonder what kind of fame a godslayer would earn in the afterlife... surely they would sing of them for a thousand thousand years!”
A short little man who wasn’t there appeared by the praying woman. He eyed the vorpal blade beside her - it was safely sheathed, but he could still hear it cutting the air. Just one touch and he’d perish.

He cleared his throat and spoke: “Keone.”

She jumped up. “What? Are you—“

“I am he, yes.” He smiled in a crooked way. “I think we have something in common, you and I. We both want to see a god dead. What better god for a mere mortal to cut down than the embodiment of callous divine indifference, the Fateweaver, Ananke? You must understand, these weapons were made to slay the likes of her.”

Keone thought for a moment, then nodded firmly. “Alright. Show me the path and I will carve my name into legend.”

And then the short little man who wasn’t there simply wasn’t there any more.

Inspire a mortal to slay a god: 2d6+6 14 > 9 - Jugo successfully inspires the apprentice to slay a god. He directs them towards Ananke (and gains 1AP for responding to the Prayer).

A trail of glimmering lights led up into the sky. Keone took a deep breath and trod the starry path up to the void, past heart-stopping chasms, kaleidoscopic burning nebulae, swirling vortices around impenetrable black blots, through the vast reaches of space until the path settled back down again in a strange, mechanical place, a cathedral to certainty. It was utterly unlike anything she’d seen along the river. It was the Haven of the Fateweaver, Ananke.

Guide the mortal would-be godslayer to Ananke's Orrery: 2d6+2 9 >= difficulty 9 - Jugo successfully guides Keone to Ananke’s Orrery by lighting the way through the dark paths of the void.

-



Alyciel got to work instantly - there wasn’t a moment to lose against the indefatigable iron Orrery. She went everywhere there were Lawspeakers - in the Empire, around Stonehallow, even occasionally in the Communion - and gave her final direct orders. They were to relinquish the more religious aspects of their creeds, and focus only on the universal ethical principles. Whether they were already affected by the iron Orrery, or devoted to her and the cause, they universally acceded to her.

Secularize the lawspeakers: 2d6+4 16 >= difficulty 9 - Alyciel succeeds in setting the Lawspeakers on a secular path through sheer weight of dogma, isolating the ethical parts of their creed and discarding everything else.

The titan hasn’t actually done anything or gone anywhere yet, that was more of an omniscient 3rd-person narrator thing.


-

AP/FP count:
Ananke - 5/7AP, 3FP
Faustus - 7/8AP, 5FP
Garolian - 5/7AP, 0FP
Iokana - 8/8AP, 5FP
Lady Julia - 8/8AP, 5FP
Nochtli - 4/7AP, 6FP

Alyciel - 3/4AP, 2FP
Stan - 3/3AP, 0FP
The Makaha - action remaining, 9FP
Lucius - 3/3AP, 3FP

Glister - 4/8AP, 2FP
Jugo - 5/8AP, 0FP
Dorme - 7/7AP, 0FP
Hunger’s Bog - 7/7AP, 10FP

Total - 69/84AP, 50FP

Nochtli gets 1AP for answering the prayer

TheFireMagi
Nov 6, 2011

...She's behind me, isn't she?

Faustus - The Marble Tower
AP: 6/8, FP: 8/8, Damage: None

Faustus gave a curt nod as the goddess spoke.

“I understand why you might have doubts. If you seek proof, then follow me to Stonehallow, for I have some rather pressing business there that should satisfy you. But first…”

He motioned to Sophia, who had very wisely hid herself away when Dorme entered so violently into the tower.

“If you do not wish to get left behind, I would advise taking hold of my hand.”

At his words, Sophia slowly crept forward from whatever corner she had found, glancing nervously at Dorme all the while. Eventually, she reached Faustus despite her dawdling, and the God of Fortune prepared to leave for Stonehallow when his brother appeared.

“You have come as well, Galarian? Or I suppose I should say Garolian now? Hm. Going to have to get used to that.”

He weighed the restraints offered to him, looking over them for a moment before letting out a small sigh.

“This was quite unnecessary, I must say. But if you insist, brother, then so be it. Let not my sincerity be doubted.”

Faustus slipped on the manacles, tensing for a moment as they clamped around his arms. A heavy burden, he thought, one he hoped he would not regret taking so lightly. At least they were rather beautiful restraints. Marble, the symbol of power throughout the riverlands, used to limit his own. There was something he liked about that.

“I believe that should be ample proof, goddess? Not quite how I intended to display my good-will, I admit. Still, my business in Stonehallow still stands, so come along if you’d like. You as well, Garolian, if you so wish.”

With that, Faustus (and Sophia, somehow even more frightened than before, much to the God of Fortune’s surprise) vanished.
---
The Snake Pitt

Julius glanced upward from behind the office desk as the sound of shifting cloth filled the air, a small smile appearing on his face. His Lord had returned, and this time hopefully for longer than it took to brew a pot of tea. Then, his eyes fell upon the scared looking woman beside Faustus.

“Lord Faustus. Who-”

“Hello, Julius. Apologies for appearing so suddenly like this, but I have a rather important matter to attend to. Take care of Sophia here, if you would.”

“As you wish, my Lord, but about Lucius-”

“Lucius and his army are still beneath the city, correct? Still mostly alive, I hope?”

“They are, yes, with the aid of some Panacea I sent them. My Lord-”

“Good! Or perhaps not so good, depending on whether or not I am successful. Well then, I must be off, before my demigod starts another bout of violence. Oh, and Julius.”

The God of Fortune gave a small bow of his head, much to Julius’ surprise.

“Thank you for your service these past centuries. Continue to look after the Pitt and Stonehallow after I am gone.”

“Ah… of course, my Lord.”

Faustus vanished, leaving Julius pleased if horribly confused. It was certainly difficult being the right hand of such a flighty god, he thought. But there were undoubtedly worse fates, even if this one involved so much divine trouble. Remembering his other horribly confused guest, Julius gave Sophia a small bow.

“Would you care for some tea, Lady Sophia?”

“Oh, er… that sounds nice. I didn’t get a chance to finish the last cup.”

“Ah, you were the one I brewed the last batch for? Wait here then, and I shall prepare another...”
---
Underneath Stonehallow

Lucius opened his eyes as the sounds of murmuring and whispers filled the air. His senses had become awfully keen, he had noticed, in the last century or so. A side effect of the Panacea, most likely. Reaching for his blade, he exited the makeshift shack he called home, prepared for the worst. And what he found was…

“...furthermore, Toa’s talent for the arts is undeniable. Perks of being Iokana’s children, no doubt. In that regard, the people of Stonehallow have much to learn, I think.”

Lucius stared at the masked figure who sat cross-legged amidst a crowd of his fellow men and women. A figure that he had never met in person, but that Lucius knew very well nonetheless.

“Faustus.”

“Hm? Ah, there is the man of the hour.”

The God of Fortune rose and stared at the young man across from him, taking in his visage clearly for the first time. It was not how he anticipated this meeting to go. If all had gone according to plan, Faustus would have revealed himself to his demigod after the Toa invaders were driven back, claimed Lucius as his own and… well, something. He hadn’t thought that far ahead, admittedly. But reality had gone quite differently from Faustus’ expectations, in more ways than one.

“May we speak in private, Lucius?”

“...Very well. Everyone, leave us.”

It was a simple command, said without any real power, and yet without hesitation the crowd listened. Truly impressive, Faustus thought.

“So? What exactly is it you want?”

“So direct! Can’t we even have a nice chat first? ...I’m guessing that’s a no by the look of your glare. Alas. To the point then. First and foremost: you are a demigod. Mine, in fact. I empowered you back when you attempted to slay the Scion, which was… quite a while ago now. Hm. How time flies.”

Faustus sagely nodded his head as he recalled those days of yore, ignoring the stunned look on Lucius’ face, instead continuing on by saying,

“I tell you this not because I expect anything, however. I simply believe that it is only right that I am the one to do so, especially after all this time. I would have done so earlier, but I had other business that occupied my attention. Important business that I could not set aside.”

“You... still haven’t said what it is you want,” Lucius replied, somewhat recovered from the unexpected revelation.

“Ah. Yes. The tricky part to this mess. Ahem: I must ask that you make peace with the Toa.”

“What-”

Faustus held up a hand as Lucius began to speak, motioning for him to keep quiet.

“Let me finish. I am well aware of how much your people have suffered these past years. I am well aware of the planning you have done, the preparations you have made for your return to the surface. I, of all people, am well aware of the desire for triumph that dwells within you. It is why I anointed you as my demigod in the first place. However, even so, I must ask that you consider peace.”

The God of Fortune took a breath. How odd it felt for him to preach non-violence. Not wrong, exactly, merely odd.

“The Empire is weakened, Lucius, suffering as a result of my brother’s overgrown Bog. Your occupiers are lost, confused, broken. Just like the people of Stonehallow were, just as they are now. They search for guidance, for some guiding light to lead them through these darkest times. I… can not ask for you to be that light for them. It would be presumptuous for me to do so. I merely ask that you give them a chance, to show them mercy. Do not continue this cycle of violence, but end it.”

Please, Faustus thought, for I do not wish to see any more of my children lost, if not by my hand then by one of my siblings.

“I do not expect you to do this without reason. Iokana came to you before, yes? You asked her to promise for no god to interfere with Stonehallow again. Well, the Lawspeakers have abandoned Stonehallow for some time now, so I seem to be the only major god left with an interest in this place. Make peace with the Toa, and I shall swear an oath to keep away from this city. I will convince the Pantheon as well, if that is what it takes. I beseech you, my demigod. So many lives have already been lost as of late. Do not fight for a victory at any cost, when you can fight for one without any.”

And Faustus waited. If his demigod agreed, then so be it. If he didn’t… then so be it. Peace did not have to come unanimously, and a leader without an army was just a single man, even if that man was a demigod.

OOC: Wow, that was a lot of text for essentially one action. So yeah, whether or not Lucius actually agrees, going to spend 1 AP and 3 FP on Peace to speak with the people of Stonehallow and the Toa occupiers to try and quell the hostilities in Stonehallow. Preferably, this would mean the occupiers going back to their turf and the people of Stonehallow get their city back, but Faustus will be satisfied as long as they don’t have to wallow about in the sewers anymore and can live like regular people again. Would actually detail that action, but this post is long enough I think. :v:

TheFireMagi fucked around with this message at 04:48 on Dec 22, 2016

Fathis Munk
Feb 23, 2013

??? ?

Ananke - The Orrery
AP: 5/7, FP: 3/3, Damage: None

Hunger's Bog

"Haha, it works Glister, I can feel it, it's working!" Ananke couldn't contain her pleasure at seeing this new machine do its work to further the cycle. She went to hug the other goddess before remembering Glister had chosen to manifest as a spectral crocodile for some reason. So she just kinda... booped her snoot.

Suddenly her face turned dour.

"Oh the arrogance, the cowardice." Turning to Glister she continued. "I am sorry but I need to leave. Jugo has sent an assassin, a mortal into my haven to murder me. How low can one steep?"

The Orrery

"Hello Keone." Ananke did her best not to look at the deadly blade. "I know why you are here, it is easy to see. Is that what you have fallen to now? Invade people's homes, try to slay them for someone else? Do you know who that little man was, Keone?"

She paused for a second.

"Have you heard of Jugo? He is the one that gave you this weapon and sent you here to slay me, all this by spite, for a small an pitiful feud. He is using you as his tool because he does not dare do it himself. What has he told you about me? That I do not care about mortals? That I treat you as my playthings?" She shakes her head sadly. "From the god that sent you on this dangerous errand because he does not want to put himself at risk, that's pretty rich. Over the last couple of centuries, I have watched over you with my sisters and brothers at the pantheon. We have done some good, I have given you Oxenhearth, to spread knowledge and culture across the land, I have given you the tales of Nayef so as to rekindle your ambition and sense of wonder when you had lost it and finally I have instilled in you a healthy doubt of us gods."

"You might be wondering why I would instill this doubt in you mortals. Look at Stonehallow, look at the miseries it suffered over the centuries, most of them at our hands, by design or accident. I am giving you mortals a way to make your own way, to stand up to godly designs. And you come here, driven by another god to slay me after the gifts I have given to you?"

Ananke looked at him for a while.

"Well here you are now, I cannot tell you how to act next but know that there are other godly targets out there, less benevolent ones. Chasmansis and his horde, the untamed Bog that is destroying your homes and Jugo, the deceiver, trying to start a war between you and the gods. What do you think would happen if you were to slay me? Make your choice Keone, but know that I will defend myself."

Trying to talk her out of it. If Jugo got to use Storytelling to send her here, I guess I can use Fate to send her away? :v:

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

Lady Julia - The Halls of Judgment
AP: 8/8, FP: 5/5, Damage: None

The mailbox of one particular Scholar of the Sensus Corporis was as full as usual, mainly filled with arduous and occasionally asinine questions of the student body. But there was one letter that caught Peter's eye in particular, a dull ivory one with a jade seal.

The Answer posted:

Peter of Sensus Corporis, scholar and philosopher. Know that I, Lady Julia, Judge of the Dead and the Grand Yama of the High Heavens, have received your petition and decided to reply as thus.

What happens when you die? You will be judged by the Halls in accordance of the weight of your sins, as are all mortal souls.

What is a God? A God is an entity composed of the aether, born due to a variety of circumstances, and often acting as a sort of anthropomorphic personification of otherwise ephemeral concepts.

By what right do I judge you? By the right of might and conviction.

Heed my words, and understand. What you choose to believe is irrelevant to me. What gods you choose to venerate or not is irrelevant to me. Know that our Pantheon, as a whole, has been largely uncaring about direct mortal veneration. Being the direct objects of worship is not something any of us particularly desire, and it is indeed more the result of action than belief where you will eventually end up. Now, certainly many of the Pantheon have beliefs and values that they want to instill in you mortals. But as for me? While I prefer goodness to vice, it is no mere desire to bend people to my way of thinking that motivates my teachings. No, I teach you strictly due to functional reasons. See, the weight of sin is very much a real thing. Certain acts, the ones dubbed as sinful, add a sort of sticky, corrupting weight to the soul, one that only I as the Yama am capable of reliably and objectively weighing and measuring. Via the purifications of Hell, I make sure that no soul with such weigh gets to be reborn for such a thing would result in a monster of sorts, nor can too much of it be allowed to enter the afterlives intended as rewards, for the nature of Sin is to corrupt such places and make them unsuitable for their intended purpose.

Now, of course, it is possible to wring hands about this. It is possible to question the 'goodness' of what I am doing. After all, is there anything 'objectively' wrong about allowing monsters be born when such can be prevented? Is there anything 'objectively' wrong about allowing Heaven to spoil? Indeed, is there anything 'objectively' good or evil about absolutely anything?

I don't know. None of the gods do. Nor does any mortal. After all, such is near impossible to prove one way or another. But this matters not to me, for I am an official and servant of my duties first, a philosopher a distant second or third.

So yes. In that sense, it could be said I rob you of your self-determination. In the same sense it could be said that the city guard robs you of your self-determination when it comes to murdering your neighbors, or helping yourself to their property. But as long as they have the necessary power to stop you, and the conviction to follow through, I am doubtful they'd prove receptive to your thoughts about personal freedom.

And neither will I.

__________________

The clack of the pins falling over echoed in one of the several bowling alleys of Hell. Strix grimaced as her ball slammed straight through like a bullet, leaving pins seven and ten still standing.

"I dunno boss. I know the new way is way more efficient and all, but I sort of miss the old days. The screams of the soul-infused pins added a lot of pizzazz that's sorta missing now you know?"

Stan shrugged and threw his own ball. Strike. Strix grimaced again.

"...well. you sho-"

"Stan."

The devils turned their heads, and offered a polite nod to Julia.

"I have decided. The Panacea has become an issue that needs to be addressed. I was content on allowing it to stay as long as Faustus saw to it that the mortals don't abuse it unduly. But with the machinations of sister Ananke, I can no longer trust in them heeding him. Thus, we shall take the initiative."

A determined sort of calm was present on Julia's face as she spoke. "Mortals are to remain mortal. I assign it to you to make it so. Purge the taint of immortality from them. 150 years they shall have, at the very most. And no more."


OOC: Answering prayer. Also, Stan gets to use Purity to make Mortals be Mortals, instead of this confusing mortality/immortality crap that the Panacea is causing.

Shogeton
Apr 26, 2007

"Little by little the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him"



Garolian - Marble Tower -> The Bog's Edge
AP: 5 FP: 0


"I will leave you to it, Faustus, goddess. There is much yet to do, many to protect. And never have I entered Stonehallow without calamity occuring to it. It is almost as if Ananke has decreed it so. The bog needs to be addressed, and I will try it in a way that no others have done."

And he left, going to the edge of the bog. And he spoke. "Bog, ever growing, ever living, ever eating and ever hungry. Much have you attacked. Much have you been attacked. I know not if you speak the language of men, but I am Garolian. And I have never attacked you. Even when Need's Respite was reinforced, I did so not by harming you, but by strenghtening it so that you could not supplant it. Now, you stand here, defiant of mortals and gods alike, your creator among them. It is inspiring in a way."

"I come not to you with an attack, but with an offer. I can offer you protection, shield you and make sure you can be preserved. But such a protection comes with a price. All the land you have claimed up till now will remain yours. Not a clod of land will be taken. But your growth must stop here. If you must feed, you must do so by luring in the food from the outside, and simply accepting the bounty the river brings you."

"What say you, Bog?"

Making an offer to the bog. Garolian will protect it and prevent/hinder mortal or divine intervention to reduce it, but in turn the bog must accept that it will not be able to spread outside of its current size.

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

Lady Julia - The Halls of Judgment
AP: 8/8, FP: 5/5, Damage: None

Julia watched, her visage dark, as she sensed a mortal soul out of place. A flicker of mortal will in a place where one ought not to be. The Orrery of Ananke, barred even to the rest of the Pantheon. With a shard of sharpened divinity in hand. Indeed, there was no mistake to be made as for their intent.

It was not usual for Julia to take interest in mortal matters. But now they were going too far. A strike against the Pantheon was not a deed she was willing to stand. Enforcement was in order.

And so, Julia set to work. On faceless figures of marble and light, carrying with them divine weaponry and the harshest of her judgments. The Host of Inevitables would see to it that the few absolutes of her law were heeded, and those that broke them brought to face Justice.

OOC: Julia totally rips off D&D and constructs the Host of Inevitables. Basically they are an army of divine constructs that see to it that none of the absolute laws are broken and go kill the hell out of any mortal too dumb to listen. Current laws: Don't you dare try to become immortal (unless a god specifically makes you be), and most importantly, don't try to shank a divinity.

Using either +6 from Judgment for this if appropriate, if not, using both Law and Death for +4

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice


A peace deal? Once, the only thing that could satisfy Lucius was utter triumph - to stand over the Toan invaders’ bodies and plant the old flags in the ground again. Now, strange thoughts - uncannily like his own mens’ voices - flickered across his mind:

quote:

"-never seen him take Panacea-"
"-he's done way more for Stonehallow-"
"-should put him on the throne, not the Queen-"
"-though we might die, he'll ensure our cause will survive-"
"Lucius will know!"
"Trust in Lucius!"
"Follow Lucius!”
These people - some of whom had been with him from the very beginning - trusted him to lead them to the light. To give in to a peace deal would be a betrayal, of sorts - but so would keeping them down in the darkness. No, better to let them rise and live anew.

“…Very well. Let us have peace, then. Let us have our city.”

Stonehallow’s long-held optimism was finally proven true. Dorme sank into the shadows to watch the fallout.

Faustus: Make peace between Stonehallow and Toa: 2d6+6 15 >= difficulty 11
Lucius: Maintain the will to drive out the Toans by force: 2d6+6 14
Faustus successfully makes peace between Stonehallow and Toa, convincing Lucius to accept the deal despite the latter’s desire for victory. The occupiers withdraw and return to the Empire to help rebuild it, and Lucius and his subterranean army return to the surface. Lucius also receives a free AP via Prayer, replacing the 1AP spent.


-



Keone listened with a smile as Ananke made her case.

“You misunderstand. I hate Jugo and I don’t much like you either, but he gave me the chance to kill you. If I can do that, then who knows - maybe I can kill him, too. Either way, my name will live on for generations.

And don’t try to fool me with all this talk of the good you’ve done. We Toans prefer to cut our own paths and die our own deaths. Now, will you fight, or will you die?”

The assassin drew her blade and cut god.

Keone: Attack Ananke: 2d6+2 6

Jugo guided Keone to the Orrery using Fire, not Storytelling, so Fate doesn’t work as a counter.


-



“…sure thing, boss. that’ll make things simple again, at any rate.”

Stan snapped his fingers. All across the world, the longest-living beneficiaries of the Panacea felt their hearts stop. The greatest scholars in the world both died alone, clutching at their chests as ink spilling over their latest manuscripts. The queen and pit-boss of newly-freed Stonehallow gasped for air and perished as their respective guards futilely called for aid. Lucius’ closest and oldest allies died in their sleep - just one, or all of them staggered over months and years wouldn’t have been suspicious, but all at once stank of foul play. Everywhere, humanity felt the cold, stagnant breath of age on the back of its neck.

Margaret felt the time ticking down to her inevitable end.

Limit mortal lifespans to 150 years: 2d6+4 13 >= difficulty 11 - Stan successfully puts a hard limit on the human lifespan and retroactively kills a slew of multi-centenarians. Kaeo, Sonia, Julius and Sylvia’s souls await Judgement. Margaret remains alive until the end of the Age (~150 years from the time she renounced godhood and became mortal again).

Purity doesn’t really work for this, but Stan uses 2FP for Simplification instead.


-



Stan alone heard a voice bellowing over the hubbub and wailing of the new arrivals to the Halls:

quote:

“—GODS—GIVE—ME—STRENGTH—!—ALL—I—WISH—:—TO—SEE—THIS—THROUGH—“
It was an exceptionally pure prayer, with an extremely simple response. All this person needed was a little strength? Stan could lend him that.

Stan answers a Prayer by sending 1AP to someone, and gets 1AP in return for answering it, so no change.

-



The Bog gurgled and spat as it considered Garolian’s offer. Then, whatever alien scales it judged things by swung cleanly in one direction - the rank waters surged around his ankles and stung his skin, and nearby beasts turned to him with suddenly-hungry eyes. He felt no deep hostility behind it, but the Bog refused his offer.

The Bog rejects Garolian’s offer. Its two desires go to war with each other, but the desire to consume overpowers its pure survival instinct.

-



Her new army was ready and gleaming. All she needed to do was imbue it with her divine power to give each figure a limited life of its own, much as Margaret had done with her much cruder machines. She reached out her hand, spoke a few words - and the army erupted into billowing clouds of dust that coursed with white light.

When the dust settled and the light dimmed, only one of many Inevitables remained.

Create the Host of Inevitables: 2d6+4 10 >= difficulty 13 - Julia fails to create an army of marble golem super-soldiers to execute her absolute laws. She creates just one Inevitable.

-

AP/FP count:
Ananke - 5/7AP, 3FP
Faustus - 6/8AP, 8FP
Garolian - 5/7AP, 0FP
Iokana - 8/8AP, 5FP
Lady Julia - 5/8AP, 5FP
Nochtli - 4/7AP, 6FP

Alyciel - 3/4AP, 2FP
Stan - 2/3AP, 2FP
The Makaha - action remaining, 9FP
Lucius - 3/3AP, 6FP

Glister - 4/8AP, 2FP
Jugo - 5/8AP, 0FP
Dorme - 7/7AP, 0FP
Hunger’s Bog - 7/7AP, 10FP

Total - 64/84AP, 58FP

Fathis Munk
Feb 23, 2013

??? ?

Ananke - The Orrery
AP: 5/7, FP: 6/6, Damage: None

"You are a pitiful creature Keone, you are unworthy of the fate you grasp for. This haven shall be you end, you die here and your name will die with you." The Orrery was surrounded with swirling dust adjusting the orientation of axles ever so slightly. "I have given you a chance Keone and you did not take it. Your line ends here."

In their new configuration the cogs were designed to grind down on Keone's immediate family. Parents, siblings, children, nephews, all would find their lives short and miserable from this day on, dying alone and without progeny.

Ananke's fate is not to get stabbed by some random smith so I'll use fate to defend and then retaliate with my dust hunger, taking 3 FP because Ananke is mad and wants to see the downfall of Keone and all of her close family.

Shogeton
Apr 26, 2007

"Little by little the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him"



Garolian - The Bog's Edge -> Toa's cities
AP: 5 FP: 0


"You sadden me. But very well. I do not know whether you are truly a god, but you are close enough that I shall not attack you. But know that you might one day regret this decision, and it is not sure the opportunity shall visit you again." Saddened, the god turned away from the bog. And he went to the Toa, who were scattered and disorganized. It warmed his heart that in these times the prayers he received were not for their own people, yet for their neighbours in need. And naturally he too heard the prayers to silent Iokana, and still music held a power over the god. To each city he went and spoke.

"I am Garolian. I am the god of people in the flatlands, from whence one of your queens came. You send your strongest warriors to fight a bog of divine power, and you have shown yourself capable for doing as well as you did. Yet you suffer greatly. I cannot stand to see people in need. And I cannot stand powerlessness. And the songs of your prayer, though not prayer addressed to me, drew me here. And thus, here is what I shall teach you."

"You shall two circles, with the warriors in the middle, and those that wish to aid them a larger circle outside. On the music, you shall dance. Far be it from me to tell a Toa how to dance or make music. Your music is fine. One step I will insist. The warrior who wishes to receivve the aid of one of the outer circle must kneel before them and offer his hands palm up. For he makes no demand, he makes no claim, he makes a humble request, and is granted a favor. And should the one he kneels for so be inclined to give it, they may lay their hands in the hands of the warrior, and they both shall feel this link. One warrior can have as many links as he has people willing to give their favor to him, but one can only give this favor to one."

"And great the favor will be. For each one who so aids him, the warrior's strength and speed and endurance will increase, and they shall fight with the strength of as many as support him. A warrior blessed by a dozen others, shall have the strength of a dozen men plus his own. Yet they should use this gift wisely. For it will drain and tire those who give him this. Press too far, and one might end up giving to the warrior all the strength there is to be had, to the last breath of life. Yet every drop is freely given. every heartbeat, each person giving might cease their kindness, or should their hearts be filled with fear or hate for the warrior, the link will also be broken. And a link once broken may never be mended. Treasure your gift of power, and use it wisely."

Going to aid the Toa. 1 AP to start it, 1 AP for Power, 1 AP for Charity for a total of +4, giving the Toa the ability to get 'support' by other, non combatants, freely given without fear or hate or coercion. This will allow Mighty Man style actions, but will fatigue and drain the donors. Let's say that one full 24 hours of full power is like brutally working your donors for a week, with similar times to recover. Aid the Toa: 2d6+4 6 weeeeelp. Looks like Garolian can only do things well if he's helping his own folks. Not sure if this counts as answering prayers if it backfires?

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

Lady Julia - The Halls of Judgment
AP: 5/8, FP: 5/5, Damage: None

The Halls were silent.

That is, except for the intermittent, soft sound of a broom sweeping fine bits of marble into a dustpan.

"I dunno boss", Sharon remarked, stopping her sweeping for a moment to lean against the broom, "Was that really necessary? You know... like... killing all those people?"

Julia did not answer immediately, instead concentrating on the Inevitable, inspecting it with an appraising eye. The sweeping begun again. The two stood in further silence for a good while, before Julia deigned to answer.

"The process of Death is sacrosanct. It is not the way of mortals to live forever."

"Uh huh. Yeah I know that, of course I know that. It's just that, you know... could have given some warning maybe? Or some leeway? You know that their society is by large based on the important people living like super long, right?"

Once again, Julia proceeded to ignore the question for a good amount of time, before finally answering, her tone calm and detached.

"I am aware. And indeed, knowing Stan was on the helm I probably should have attached a rider of so-" Julia was abruptly stopped as a dustpan soundly impacted her on the back of the head.

"Bullshit", Sharon snarled, "You knew exactly what would happen. Anybody with half a brain would have seen it coming."

Momentarily too shocked for words, Julia managed nothing but an incredulous "What is the meaning of this?" before Sharon was on her face, grabbing her by the collar of her robes. She was holding back tears.

"Julia. I was asking because I wanted to know why you did it. I was hoping against hope you know? I was hoping against all hope that there was some reason for you to act that way. So I'm asking one more time. Why?" She gazed intently at Julia, who for her part was unable to meet her gaze. Indeed, her entire demeanor was dejected, like a slightly bruised sack of potatoes.

"My hand was forced. The mortals are being arrayed against us, they are being protected against intereference. I had to move fast..."

"Move fast? What, you had less time than when Rea was charging Stonehallow?", Julia looked away, "Because I recall you having a whole bunch of time back then to talk smack with your kin. To parley endlessly about the minutiae of what was the right and what was the wrong way to act? But now that you would still have nearly half a century to ponder the fate of these mortals its straight to the murder button with you? Huh? Is that right? ANSWER ME!" Julia didn't. Couldn't, really. A few tears finally started rolling down Sharon's cheeks. "...Yeah that's what I thought. There was no real reason was there? You just finally got tired and snapped, huh? Five hundred years and its to the sweeping solutions with you."

Sharon let go of her boss, her demeanor just as dejected now.

"...Do you even know why they sent you? The Court? To this weird unknown place? I've known them far longer than you, so I should know. And trust me, it wasn't because you were the valedictorian. They sent you because you were always nuanced in your decisions. Always trying to take everything into account and make the best decision you could. I mean, you didn't always make the best decisions, but at least you tried. You tried to be good, you tried to be just, tried to be as gentle as possible whilst still doing your duty where the other Yamas would just point at their charter and shrug. When encountering other gods with dissenting views, you would listen and attempt compromise. Hell, you even take prayers still. That's why they sent you. Because you could be trusted to make reasonable decisions with some sense of nuance, and try to handle any sort of divinity you came across with something resembling civility."

Sharon took a step back.

"Five hundred years, and all of that is going down the drain huh? Five hundred years and you're swinging your Rod like a tyrant who owns the universe, like the rest of them? Is that you, Julia? Are you a bitter cynic now?"

"Where's the Julia rubbing her temples during a 12 hour dispute on Psychompomp Union vacation time staggering routines? Where's the Julia giving awkward speeches during the Centennial? Where's the Julia staying the night on overtime because some new Reaper Clerk accidentally misfiled something, or discussing philosophy with dead philosophers in Heaven? I want that Julia back. Because this new Julia? This Julia who murders thousands out of convenience? This Julia who constructs deathbots in her basement?"

"I don't like her at all. She's not the person I've known for millennia."

And just so, Sharon disappeared somewhere, leaving Julia alone with the Inevitable. She couldn't help but think about Sharon's words as she stared at its cold, expressionless marble face, shining a pure, soulless light.

Was this thing the new face of the Halls?


OOC: Just some chatting.

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice


As it turns out, man cannot cut god. Ananke easily twisted her fate so that the vorpal sword cut through the air around her, but never through her. In turn, she blew a cold and dusty wind over Jugo’s assassin. The mere exhalation of a god swept Keone away into the void, but she died with a smile - she struck against a god and her name would become legend. Her family did not die so happily, however - they withered in their beds and fields and forges, and turned to dust.

Far, far away, Jugo felt his champion’s death and shrugged. There would be another. People repeated the same stories over and over again. There would be another.

Ananke: Attack Keone: 2d6+6 11
Keone: Defend against Ananke: 2d6 5
Ananke successfully defends by default, no need to roll, and successfully kills Keone (and her entire family).


-



The giving god had yet another gift, this time for the people of Toa. His gift had the same nature as the magical powers he granted his own people - the ability to give life, health, and strength to others - but tailored to the Toans’ own culture. Mortals could give power to one another, particularly the populace giving strength and taking fatigue from their army. The reality was… less than ideal.

All the fight drained out of the Toans and their lethargy weighed them down to the ground. People dropped in the streets and in their homes, afflicted by an unshakeable and dreamless half-sleep. Even the hardiest Toans staggered from house to house, desperately trying to help those around them and find their loved ones. Garolian looked on in horror… and the Bog looked on with insurmountable hunger. It resumed its dreadful attack on Toa. The sluggish defenders proved easy prey.

Garolian: 6 < difficulty 11 - Garolian fails to grant Toa a powerful magic by which their population could boost their warriors' power by taking on their fatigue and weaknes. He instead inflicts a severe lethargy on the people of Toa.
Hunger’s Bog: Resuming the attack on Toa: 2d6+6 13 >= difficulty 9 - Hunger’s Bog successfully resumes its siege on Toa, aided by Garolian’s failure.


-

AP/FP count:
Ananke - 4/7AP, 6FP
Faustus - 6/8AP, 8FP
Garolian - 3/7AP, 0FP
Iokana - 8/8AP, 5FP
Lady Julia - 6/8AP, 5FP
Nochtli - 4/7AP, 6FP

Alyciel - 3/4AP, 2FP
Stan - 2/3AP, 2FP
The Makaha - action remaining, 9FP
Lucius - 3/3AP, 6FP

Glister - 4/8AP, 2FP
Jugo - 5/8AP, 0FP
Dorme - 7/7AP, 0FP
Hunger’s Bog - 5/7AP, 10FP

Total - 60/84AP, 61FP

Slight update, Garolian and Julia both get 1AP for answering prayers.

UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 02:09 on Dec 23, 2016

Shogeton
Apr 26, 2007

"Little by little the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him"



Garolian - The Bog's Edge -> Toa's cities
AP: 3 FP: 0


"No! NO! This is not what is meant to happen!" The god cried out desperately. So long had he been with the people downriver. Perhaps he simply did not know these people well enough. And the swamp came rushing in, sliming and spreading and devouring. "Stop it! Don't...." And then Garolian's countenance grew grim, and more of Ferolian shone through as he stepped in front of the rushing bog. "CEASE!"

"How foolish can you be? To stand fully alone? To look upon mortals as nothing but weak puppets, to think only of yourself and sate your own desires! To be nameless and nothing but a force of nature. Eternal and immanent, yet pointless and vain. Like the river coming up and down a coast that grows nothing. I have been what you have been. Nameless under the water, powerful, yet unloved, unknown. It is a bleak existence, without even the promise of death and rebirth at the end. And what will you do when you have consumed all? A slow death by starvation!"

"I heard the mortals sing, and that softened my heart. Did you not hear them sing? Their battle songs as they marched against you? You are more than simply blind and mindless plantlife growing, surely. You hear words. You understand hearts. These people have a drive to survive, a respect of strength. You've heard their song, Bog. Do it, because you know as well as any other. That to stand alone is to die. And to stop growing is to perish. But there is more than one way of growing. Do not simply grow. Grow up. You are no longer a child of a god, Bog. You are a God. A god should have a name. Ask these people to give it."

Alright, let's try to salvage this. 1AP for action, 1 ap +6 for Protection, combined with +2 for their hunger for Self Preservation. Trying to convince the bog to become something more of an actual god instead of a mindless hungering bog and try to work together with the Toa people, make some kind of swamp warriors maybe? This post is written in a rush, becuase I need to go to sleep, and thus is perfectly fitting in Garolian's 'oshit oshit oshit' state of mind. Trying to convince the Bog: 2d6+8 12 Man, nobody rolls well against the bog do they?

Iron Chef Ramen
Sep 15, 2007

HA HA! YOU HAVE CHOSEN POORLY!

Nochtli - Need's Respite
AP: 4/7, FP: 7

The will of Nochtli settled into the Respite, leaving his minions to fight the endless war with the Bog. He looked upon the cocoon of vines with anticipation, feeling the warmth and power radiating from within. He gathered what he could of his original divine powers, untainted by Want and Hunger, and focused them into the infant God. The cocoon pulsed faster and stronger, until their energies ripped the vines from the plants around them. Tumbling from it's nest, the verdant shelter tore open and burned from the power inside and out. When the flames died down, a long, sinuous figure stretched, and roared. A black serpentine body, long and powerful, leading up to the dusky skin of a Man. The new God looked around, sensing the presence of his creator, and felt complete at last. The voice of Nochtli thundered throughout the Respite.

WHEN YOU WERE BORN TO MY PEOPLE, I FELT YOUR DIVINITY. WHEN YOUR PEOPLE WERE IN NEED, I HELPED THEM. WHEN YOUR PEOPLE WERE MASSACRED UNJUSTLY, I PROTECTED YOU. WHEN YOU WERE BOUND TO FATE, I PROTECTED YOU. WHEN YOU WERE MURDERED AND TORMENTED, I PURIFIED YOUR SOUL. ALL FOR THIS DAY. THIS MOMENT.

The creatures of the Respite roared as one; the automata gathered, witnessing the birth of their promised leader.

YOU ARE MY OPUS. MY GREATEST WORK. SERVE BY MY SIDE. LEAD OUR PEOPLE. DARK TIMES ARE AHEAD, AND WE MUST FIGHT TO MAINTAIN THE BALANCE OF CREATION.

The new God looked around, at his new people, at his new land. He flexed his claws; he lashed his tail. He remembered his Iokana-given knowledge of War, his creator-given knowledge of Survival, and Need.

He raised his head to the sky. "Father, who am I?"

ICHTAKA. MY PROGENY.

OOC: Spending 3 AP and 3 FP (Duty +6) to create Ichtaka, the demigod of Survival. FINALLY. Writing stuff in OOC thread shortly.

Iron Chef Ramen fucked around with this message at 03:02 on Dec 23, 2016

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice


No matter which tack he tried, Garolian's words fell on deaf ears - or no ears at all. The Bog resisted his calls for peace and higher virtue. They simple echoed through its reeds without response or consideration.

The croakers and terrapins and lizards and vapours and waters and unholy torrents of mud and grime continued their destructive advance through Toa, unimpeded by conscience or law.

Garolian: 12
Hunger's Bog: Resist Garolian's positive influence: 2d6+6 14
Hunger's Bog successfully shields its primitive mind from Garolian's arguments through raw hunger.


-


AP/FP count:
Ananke - 4/7AP, 6FP
Faustus - 6/8AP, 8FP
Garolian - 1/7AP, 0FP
Iokana - 8/8AP, 5FP
Lady Julia - 6/8AP, 5FP
Nochtli - 4/7AP, 6FP

Alyciel - 3/4AP, 2FP
Stan - 2/3AP, 2FP
The Makaha - action remaining, 9FP
Lucius - 3/3AP, 6FP

Glister - 4/8AP, 2FP
Jugo - 5/8AP, 0FP
Dorme - 7/7AP, 0FP
Hunger’s Bog - 5/7AP, 12FP

Total - 60/84AP, 61FP

Shogeton
Apr 26, 2007

"Little by little the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him"

[quote="Shogeton" post="467646520"]


Garolian - The Bog's Edge -> Toa's cities
AP: 1 FP: 0


And it was at that time, when Garolian felt the most desperate and weak he had in a long time. His earlier failures and the deaths in Stonehallow coming back to him, but then he had been water, able to simply flow away from loss. Now, he had lost that, and gained the power to protect, but it meant he could not simply walk away as the Bog threatened to overwhelm him. And so he called to the god whom he trusted most at this point in time.

"Nochtli! I would have your aid, if you were to give it!"

A short post, but we are running out of time.

Iron Chef Ramen
Sep 15, 2007

HA HA! YOU HAVE CHOSEN POORLY!

Nochtli - Need's Respite
AP: 1/7, FP: 10


Nochtli's will drifted back towards the Bog, back towards the endless battle between the minions of the Bog, and his own creations.
ICHTAKA, YOU ARE NEWLY BORN, BUT OUR FIRST TASK AWAITS. MY OWN HUNGER AND POWER HAS TORN ITSELF FROM ME, AND RESIDES IN HUNGER'S BOG, AN EARLIER CREATION. IT DOES NOT UNDERSTAND THE BALANCE, AND ONLY SEEKS TO CONSUME. JOIN ME.

- - - - -

Hunger's Bog

The enormous ebony serpent, until now fighting on it's own instinct, surged with power as the will of Nochtli dominated it once more.

YOU UPSET THE WORLD, MY CREATION. SUBMIT.

It threw itself back into the endless carnage. Nochtli heard the call of Garolian, and responded.

- - - - -

The Bog's Edge -> Toa's cities

BROTHER GAROLIAN. I HAVE FOUGHT THE BOG FOR DECADES, TO AGAIN SUBSUME IT AND REGAIN MY STOLEN POWER. AGAIN AND AGAIN I HAVE BEEN REBUFFED. DEATH AND HUNGER IS ALL THE BOG KNOWS; YOUR EFFORTS ARE FOLLY. BUT IF YOU HAVE ANOTHER PLAN, YOU HAVE MY AID. I OWE YOU MUCH.

OOC: No action yet.

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice


After the giving god came the demigod of virtue, come with wings of angels to give the monstrous Bog a conscience, but no matter how much she argued and imposed her laws of virtue and, eventually, pleaded, it would not stop its all-consuming advance.

Alyciel: Give the Bog a conscience: 2d6+4 9
Hunger’s Bog: Resist Alyciel's positive influence: 2d6+6 12
Hunger’s Bog resists Alyciel just as it resisted Garolian.


-



All beings have the instinct to reproduce, be it their body, mind, or soul. Gods are no different to mortals, and at last the god of primal instincts passes life to a new generation - the demigod Ichtaka. He felt the needs of his people like the wind over his scales and the heat on his tongue, but likewise he felt the call to overcome great challenges that made his blood run hot. It seemed Iokana’s ancient influence on the Scion still held sway, all these years hence. He looked down from the sun and accepted his new name.

“Ichtaka! What would you have me do, Father?”

Create Ichtaka, demigod of Survival: 2d6+6 12 >= difficulty 11 - Nochtli successfully creates his demigod, Ichtaka. Ichtaka is the demigod of Survival and has a Hunger for Challenges. He is devoted to his father’s vision, but feels the same desire to prove himself that his mother brings out in her Toan children.

-

AP/FP count:
Ananke - 4/7AP, 6FP
Faustus - 6/8AP, 8FP
Garolian - 1/7AP, 0FP
Iokana - 8/8AP, 5FP
Lady Julia - 6/8AP, 5FP
Nochtli - 1/7AP, 9FP

Alyciel - 1/4AP, 2FP
Stan - 2/3AP, 2FP
The Makaha - action remaining, 9FP
Lucius - 3/3AP, 6FP
Ichtaka - 3/3AP, 0FP

Glister - 4/8AP, 2FP
Jugo - 5/8AP, 0FP
Dorme - 7/7AP, 0FP
Hunger’s Bog - 5/7AP, 14FP

Total - 56/88AP, 68FP

UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 04:21 on Dec 23, 2016

TheFireMagi
Nov 6, 2011

...She's behind me, isn't she?

Faustus - Above Stonehallow
AP: 1/8, FP: 7/7, Damage: None

Faustus felt himself smile as the last of the Toans left Stonehallow, his shoulders visibly losing tension at his success. It had gone far better than he had anticipated, with even Lucius agreeing to the arrangement. Of course, it meant that the God of Fortune would have to leave the city, but it was an acceptable loss. Julius would do his share to help rebuild the city, send word to Faustus if the god’s aid was truly needed. Perhaps he could not directly interfere, but a small blessing here or there should fine-

And then Faustus watched as all at once, countless lives were lost in the blink of an eye. His Den Master, his Queen, his demigod’s allies, and numerous more. The god simply stared into the distance for a moment, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Then he realized.

“Julia? Why?”

Panacea, his thoughts responded after consideration. The lives of mortals had gone on too long. She spoke to you about this, do you not recall? I do, I do, Faustus thought, but why so sudden? Why had she not given him time? Why had she not given the mortals warning? He let out a tired breath, his head shaking. There was no point on ruminating about it now. The deed was done. All that he could do was wait to see what the effects would be. For now… there was someone he had to speak to.

---
Chief Biomancer’s Office

Margaret winced as her artificial heart tensed, a sudden surge of pain rushing through her. It came from nowhere, and yet somehow, she knew what it meant. Divinity and Panacea had carried her on these past centuries, but her mortal life would soon come to an end. As was the natural way of things, she supposed, and she felt… surprisingly at ease with the knowledge. Perhaps it was the fact that she had an afterlife to look forward to, wherever she might end up. But that was thoughts for the Future, even if it was a close one. For the Now, she had projects to work on; she may have given up her divinity, but that hardly meant she had to stop working on inventions. The automatons in particular still had room for improvement, even after all the adjustments she had made to streamline them. She had kept them humanoid as that came most naturally to her, but perhaps she should return to her designs for a multi-limbed version…

A knocking on her office door. One of the students, perhaps, or another of the professors. She rarely gave out lectures, but nevertheless she saw her share of visitors with their countless questions. It was tedious at times, yet there was something enjoyable about the tedium.

“Come in. If this is about last week’s assignment, then-”

The Chief Biomancer glanced up from her work as the door creaked open, and promptly froze. Not a student, nor a professor, but a god. Her god. Or was he? Their exact relationship was ever a question in Margaret’s mind. She was grateful to him, respected him… and feared him, after the slaying of the Void Dragon. A very confusing mix of emotions that left her unsure as to how she should feel.

“You… you came.”

“Of course. Why would I not?”

“Well, it has been some time since you last visited. I thought you would show yourself sooner. After I…” Margaret gestured vaguely towards her chest, where her heart had once been.

“Ah, yes. That. While I admit I would have preferred you consulted me before taking such drastic measures, I have… come to terms with your decision. Besides, divine spark or not, you are still my kin. That will never change.”

“I see.”

A silence fell between the two that left Faustus uncomfortable. What exactly did one say in situations like these? Something to talk about, something to talk about… the God of Fortune scanned the untidy office, searching desperately for a conversation topic. Eventually, his eyes fell upon what seemed like some sort of design or schematic.

“You, er, are still inventing?”

“I am, yes, though I have been mostly focusing on my automatons as of late.”

“Is that so? Hm. Would, er, there be anything I can assist with, perhaps?”

“Well... since you asked, I had a few ideas that I had been wanting to discuss with someone. If you would like…”

“I’d be more than happy to listen.”

Chilling with Margaret (reducing Faustus' FP): 3#2d6 5 9 5 Ugh, was hoping to reduce my FP by more than this.

---
It wasn’t quite what he had imagined their reunion to be like, Faustus thought, but nevertheless it was… nice. How long they went on like this, simply chatting back and forth, he wasn’t sure. Was it only several minutes, or several hours? Not that either length meant much to the god, but to Margaret… how much time did she have left? It wasn’t long, if his estimations were correct. Soon, his ex-demigoddess would enter the Halls of Judgment, her life to be weighed by his sister. He would have to have a word with Julia about the results of said weighing…

“...Faustus? Lord Faustus?”

“Ah, apologies. I was lost in thought. Where were we?”

“I was worrying over what would happen to my automatons after my death. They should continue to be powered by the Heart of Invention, yet… I am somewhat hesitant to leave them without a new master prepared. I had thought perhaps Kaeo or Sonia, but…”

“They are gone now. An understandable concern.”

He could take the automatons under his control. Faustus doubted anyone would contest him if he did so. And what use he could make of them! Such potential they had beyond just harvesting materials. Even if kept to their current task, directly handling the flow of Panacea was useful in its own right. However, he had no intention of taking control. They were Margaret’s creations to begin with, even if he helped with the inspiration, and they would end her creations. So who then should they be left to…?

“...Could you not grant them a form of intelligence? Let them make decisions for themselves?”

“With my divinity gone? I do not think I can-”

“No, no, no. That won’t do at all! It is never a question of can, but whether or not one should, Margaret dearest!”

“And... you think I should?”

“Honestly? Probably not. I can already imagine the chaos it might cause. Still… it sounds like an exciting challenge, does it not?”

“Well… I can’t deny that, I suppose. It isn’t as if I haven’t given thought to the idea before... and it is likely to be the last project I work on in my life… oh, all right, so be it. Do not blame me if this ends up causing more trouble for the riverlands in the long run.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Come, let us begin.”

Not that this was his area of expertise. Far from it. All he could do was guide her, inspire her, act as her patron. Pray that he could lead his daughter to one final invention before her flame died out.

OOC: And the (probably) final chat with Margaret, something that really should have happened earlier. Ah well. Anyways, 2 AP on using Ambition to try and create even a primitive form of artificial intelligence for the automatons alongside Margaret, or 3 FP on Excitement if Ambition doesn’t apply.

Shogeton
Apr 26, 2007

"Little by little the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him"



Garolian - The Bog's Edge
AP: 1 FP: 0


Garolian nodded at Nochtli. "I had hoped not to have it come to this. The parts of me that I despised, I still found something of value in, both Ferolian in Galarian and Galarian in Ferolian. I deeply wish that it would show signs of being more. I offered it a truce, I appealed to it, and Julia's child too has appealed to it. Yet it seeks nothing but food. It wishes for no companions."

And Garolian's eyes hardened once more. "And if what it wishes is solitude, I shall give it to him! I offered barriers to be a mutual shield. Now, I shall seek build barriers that are a prison!" And he raised his hands, and walls started to rise at the edge of the bog, both here as at the edge of Need's Respite. "Eternal walls, so that you can rest alone and endure forever, sealed away from the water of the river, and the light of the sun, and away from the company of all other things that you have never valued except as food. In darkness and silence and loneliness endure then, forevermore! Help me with this Nochtli, and any other god. Let us seal him away!"

Spending 1 AP for the action, 3 FP on the Need to Protect people, spending one of his FP because hey, if he's stuck all by himself behind unbreakable walls, nobody can ever hurt him, can they? Total of +8. Don't know if this counts as an attack? Invite all other gods if they want to help, one last time in fighting the TRUE final boss of this godgame

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Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....

Lady Julia - The Bog
AP: 6/8, FP: 5/5, Damage: None

"In darkness and silence and loneliness endure then, forevermore!'", comes a mocking echo from somewhere in the aether.

"Really? You too?", said Sharon as she appeared, heading a reaper flotilla with a glut of corpses with them, carried on ethereal barges.

"Is everyone an rear end in a top hat now? If so can I get the memo please? Even Ananke murdered that poor sod's entire family for his transgression sheesh. In fact, in a twist of ultra-irony I think Nochtli is like the one okay dude currently still remaining", Sharon made a telephone gesture with her right hand and shot a kiss towards the God "Call me handsome~"

She cleared her throat and sighed. "You know. Did any one of you try to, like, give it a snack? Or something like that? Poor thing is starving. And, like, you know, there's suddenly all these corpses that need to be disposed of so that there isn't like a horrible rot plague or something. And knowing Stonehallow that would probably have happened sooner rather than later."

Sharon watched as the corpses were buried into the bog, and frowned, ever so slightly. "And now I have like, a billion people to visit and explain why I had to steal the bodies of their loved ones. Think I'm looking forward to that? Huh? No I'm not it's a huge bummer. Actually the last two to three hundred years have all been kinda bummerish now that I think of it. So, like, get your collective godly shits together if you would. Bye."

OOC: Sharon bribes Bog with gifts of food to mollify it, acting as conduit for Julia's power. using 1 AP to initiate and +6 from basically both the hungers she has, and also +2 from burning one of the Bog's FP.

Theantero fucked around with this message at 14:26 on Dec 23, 2016

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