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 Kemgöz, The Unending Curse of Sin What a waste of time. The smug little godlings once again go and bicker and shout and gloat and keep trying to fight for the scraps that are the mortals on the continent. Cretins, they all are, with this treaty to force peace. The witch that keeps calling me sister, however, it seems she and the merchant haven't noticed that it's not a matter of forcing the pitiful little mortals to start doing what they do best on each other, but to create the conditions to do so. After all, it takes only a particularly bad day for a person to commit murder, it's just a matter to bring this up to a scale that's enough to force a civilization. Yes, yes, these eyes of mine they can see how contrained the resources are on this island, and that even with that much treasure as the smith has brought to the island, those greedy creatures will be hungering for more. And when they do, then perhaps they will give me that which I have been hungering for so long...
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Apr 7, 2019 03:00
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| # ? Apr 26, 2024 00:06 |
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 Forex,Born of the Bonfires, One Who Gives, One Who Takes Forex strolled across the edge of town, subtly steering Hekis towards the picturesque seaside roads. The Eternal Surgeon's work here was done, yet the ever vigilant god could not keep himself from glancing at the pox-stricken corpses being laid in pyres, muttering quick calculations, breaking away for the last minor acts of aid. "... again, I am truly sorry for my overly harsh words, Vigilant Healer", Forex explained. He hated having to go to Hekis so early in his legation, but the very same reasons that have made it more effortful meant it was that more important for the PR of his nascent project. "The heated nature of the moot got the better of me and - I loathe to admit it - there was a fair share of personal disappointment over the future of a certain enterprise I have concocted with you specifically in mind." "The... Caducean League, was it?" "Correct. A divine confederacy for matters of mutual branding assistance." "Meaning?" "A friendly, voluntary pantheon of our own. Established for the sole purpose of steering mortals towards each other, should relevant domains come into play. Consider this hypothetical: there is an outbreak of fever on a merchant clipper returning with holds fillled with eastern fruits. Should the ship surgeon pray to garner help of a great healer, or to appease the cruel god of disease? His captain will have a clear answer: the one who belongs to the Caducean League." "It bears no explanation", Forex continued, "that my reach in the world is great and grows further with each trader daring to find his fortune in distant lands. That is the reach I am willing to share with all who fear they could be left behind in this ever-shifting world, who fear that in the ever-tightening world their regional reach shall be usurped by a stronger god from across the world." "How generous", Hekis replied. "And what would be the price for such a courtesy?" "Merely responding in kind. Some gentle reminders of my presence. Perhaps remind your flock that the flames cauterize the wounds and purify the tools. Order boat graves to burn, not to pollute the waters with disease. Teach for silver coins to work as antiseptic, to be held as life-saving charms. I believe you can think of something." "Ah, so perhaps Emoch was right about the overlordship you seek." "Overlordship?", Forex laughs. "Really, that the idea came from the Vaultkeeper should tell you all about its good sense. All I would expect of you is not to cause strife within the leage or bring harm to my dealings - yet I do not deem lack of hostility a tyrant's yoke. I do not wish to give you any orders, I do not wish to fight your wars nor use your powers to fight mine and while I'd gladly help you defend from active competition, that would be a matter of a separate agreement." "Do not deem me a fool, Forex, for we both know the truth of the matter: your reach is indeed far greater than mine. We both know there is no way I could bring you more recognition than you profess to bring me. Nay, the only gain you would have is to encroach on and devour on what is mine, to tug at my domain one ritual at a time." "A valid concern, if thankfully unfounded one. It is true that while we regard each other as equals, our contributions do not. And that is why I request direct symbolism, direct signs of partnership from all who wish to join. For I might lose from a single member, but I shall gain from the league as a whole. I do not wish for your domain nor those of any god I entreat. I merely wish to hold onto what I already am, for believe it or not, I am plagued with the same problems as you are. Do you know how the cremation rites came to be?" "A failed attempt to get into sould trade?" "A successful favor for a friend. In the age past, the wise Izemrasen ran out of land to bless with his trade. The four caravans have reach the northern, southern and eastern shores, with the amber fleet in the west unable to sail through the endless seas past a handful of islands. Yet he knew that with nowhere else to go, his Tarkhans would try to cut the known world into their little fiefdoms, just like they have cut the clanstead apart. And so he thought for twenty two days and on the twenty third, he announced the miraculous solution: to burrow into the soil like a setseke making nest, until the clans reach the other side of the globe. The caravans each gathered the best they could buy: the Sapphire Caravan brought tools forged from Souihla steel; the Emerald Caravan commissioned the finest engineers of the desert folk who dwell in cities carved in rock; the Ruby Caravan tamed majestic beasts and the Amber Fleet returned to land to keep the Great Works supplied. And they dug and dug and dug until one day Izemrasen's downward path carved its way to the Great Forge itself. As night devoured day, the men set camp and brought the finest gifts as it was customary to thank the unexpecting host. Yet to their surprise it was not the Allfather they found in the halls." "Did-" "Yes. The caravan had unwittingly caught lovers in the act. A man of both wisdom and tact, Izemrasen excused himself, feigning ignorance, and ordered the caravans to dig further through the night, wishing not to be involved in matters of the divine. And he was right to do so, for when Emoch returned home and saw mortals crawling in his stead, his anger was so great no gift from the surface could placate him. And so, to save his men from smiting, Izemrasen bowed and said he came to gift the most important of news; that he regrets any damages his crude excavation caused in the name of avoiding miracles that could be noticed by treacherous gods; that he know the reason why the moon jumps into the horizon to hide deep within the earth each morning that Emoch sets off to work. And thus the caravans were saved and while the journey has never reached its goal, the caravans grew rich with miraculous artifacts that were thrown out during the heated argument the gods had as the mortals made their hasty retreat." "Dear Forex, what has that to do with anything?" "Ah, yes, I digress again. As you might very easily imagine, the Witch-Empress was none too pleased with Izemrasen's deeds, even if there was little of his fault. And so she decreed that the wise king who brought much fortune to the world shall be barred from ever entering the heavens. For years he had tried to placate her with favors and gifts, yet Maladine wouldn't budge. And so when Izemrasen grew old, knowing his years are drawing to the end, he has embarked on one last grand legation, trying to curry favor with any lesser guide that would bring him to the gates of the celestial. Yet none would both agree and be able to grant him passage past the Blind Empress. On his deathbed, the indomitable Izemrasen finally succumbed to despair. I have, of course, scolded him for the ridiculous notion that the fact he has personally failed would mean that there are things that cannot be bought. After a short, but fruitful talk he did agree to a proposal of trilateral trade and I went off to secure his final journey. I came to Maladine and entreated; I reminded her of guidance the departed still need while she is busy bickering with Emoch; I have offered my help with catching up for a modest price; I joked that the rites I could work through - not unlike burnt offerings - would have the souls fly away with smoke, away from the grasp of Emoch's soil. And with her anger still burning hot, she agreed out of spite. Yet, blind as she is, when the time has come for Izemrasen to pass, she could not tell his ashes apart. Up to this day, when a clansman dies, as piously as they pray to the Empress, they always leave me a coin, should a little assistance be necessary." "And as the ages pass, would that handful of warlocks willing to trade for their lives and souls be reasonably construed as an assault on the celestial sphere?", Forex asked. "No. And yet my coin is there when the clans live and when the clans die, when the clans move and when the clans set camp, when the clans toil and when they rejoice in their wealths. And no matter how many gods enjoy their rites, it is clear that the clans are of mine. And in this brave new world the Trail will flicker and fade, the caravans will take to the seas, the ships will outgrow even the oldest setseke. And while I do not mind the sailors thanking the stars that guide them, the winds that propel them, the medic who staves scurvy away, the gentle waves that grant journey its safety - I am most concerned that in the world in which all of divine blood look hungrily towards the sea no sailor ever forgets it is by my flames in their engine and my purchase of passage their ship may move, no frontiersman ever forgets it is my torch that fends off the wild and warms their hut at night." Hakis stood in silence, lost in thought. He took another look at the plague-ridden town and then another at the sails crossing the far horizon. --- Recap for the sake of clarity: I am touring the less troublesome, probably the more antropocentric lesser gods and offering them membership in a loose pantheon of my own - the Caducean League. It is a loose confederation for quid pro quo cross-branding opportunities: members get preferential treatment and friendly references. So, for example, all Forex-fearing naval merchants would get gentle, but clear suggestions their ship surgeons would really do well to pray to Hekis, over other gods and spirits in the appropriate domain space. The smolgods would get patronage of a big player attuned to this weird, changing world and return their own shoutouts towards Forex. The expected effect being: Forex doesn't mind helping some minors grow in their non-competing domains and has no wish to encroach on them, but by slapping reminders of his presence in all aspects of one's life, he hopes to instill the idea that the ships and colonial settlements as a whole are Of Forex. As in: surgeon has his god and helmsman has his god and the stevedores have their god, but when every single thing they do on a ship somehow involves Forex, it really makes u think.
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Apr 7, 2019 15:54
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Wax is shaken by earthquakes, the result of Emoch's rage at his failed attempts at smithing soulmetal. It is clear that souls are rich with impurities that weaken the metal, and no smelting technique manages to clear them away. But for some of them the impurities seem to instead make an alloy, a metal with incredible and varying properties. Emoch's incensed research comes to dead end after dead end, and his soul stockpile dwindles to unusability. And so, the earth shakes. Forex and Maladine both travel around the places of power of lesser divinities, one offering business and the other a kind word. Many are swayed by Forex's proposal, but just as much are repulsed, not wanting to consort with one of the greater gods in fear of being exploited. Maladine has all considered a lovely time, chatting and reminiscing and renewing the bonds of trust that oh-so-softly bind many to her. Kemgöz is quiescent, the malevolent being contenting itself with savoring the struggle of the colonists against its bugs and its curse. Jormgir is also rarely seen, but there are whispers of terrible storms ravaging pirate hideouts, and of the sea herself swallowing buccaneers' vessels. OOC: Emoch failed, Forex takes 2 Reputation Stress and can form the Caducean League Bond, specifying three enthusiastic adherents. Maladine can form two personal Bonds, representing two deities that were particularly swayed by her kindness. Kem and Jorm took a rest turn.
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Apr 15, 2019 21:37
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 Emoch-Ma'Haar, The Smith In The Deep, The Worldshaper, The Vaultkeeper There was no heat that was as pure as that of the Forgeheart. Created from the brightest embers gathered during the beginning of time, the first thing ever built by Emoch. Now known as the source of the greatest Divine creations ever made manifest, as the source of mortal ingenuity in many myths, an almost transcendental entity of destruction and change. The heart of Wax itself. But back then? Back at the start? When there was naught but Emoch and Dark? Back then, Emoch created the Forgeheart just to keep himself warm in the endless void. To Emoch, then, the Forgeheart had special significance. It was his first cry of Defiance. The first step out of the idle despondence of helpless misery he had clad himself in before then. The first time he took a stand. It was in the blaze of the Forgeheart, back then, where Emoch forged his own determination to never again yield to his circumstances. To never surrender in face of outside influences trying to browbeat him. He would forge his own destiny. His own happiness. It was this primal determination that only he knew that Emoch tapped into as he worked on his newest project. A piece of sharpened Godsteel like so many of his former projects, but this time worked on by the Soulhammer, this time infused by a small bit of that original flame Emoch ever carried in his heart. Tempered in his own smoldering spite, quenched by his grim determination, the blade slowly took beautiful form. "Know this", Emoch spoke the first words the nascent will inside the blade would hear, "I have forged you from steel, brass, and my own will. I am why you exist. Never forget this." "I have gifted you with my own drive. I have gifted you with my own anger. I have gifted you with my own determination. I have gifted you with a sense of purpose. Know that these things are your Birthright, and claim them." "You are He-Who-Cleaves." "And you will heed this wisdom from the beginning of times, the first lesson I ever learned shall also be yours." "Perform, or perish." _____ OOC: Using CREATE, Artifice and Divine Smith to make He-Who-Cleaves, a grimly homicidal artifact that possesses mortals to go kill other mortals and cleave off their soulbitz with himself.
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Apr 20, 2019 15:45
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Kemgöz, The Unending Curse of Sin Once again I couldn't help myself but moan in anger and annoyance. It seems that the other ones went to do their own devices, and that the Smith is trying and failing to make his toys work again. Whatever device he makes will likely cause too much of a mess to be useful. Perhaps there should be another push to ensure my sacrifice comes steadily. The dreams of the would-be colonists and buccaneers will do. I made sure to bring to those who suffer from the venom of the insects brings them closer to her, dark dreams that incite them to a solution to their own woes... Which is to push them into someone else. After all, the more celebrants for me the better... Using INSPIRE and Madness to ensure there's a new group of cultists to start their offerings to Kemgoz...
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Apr 21, 2019 01:59
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 Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial Maladine flops down on her favorite divan in her work-palace, and tears the skin from her body. A great mass of night-sky fills it, and she lets out a long sigh. Constant visits. Ports, high temples, great fortresses, secluded glades and mountain grottos. The whole trip starts to blur together again in her head, but at least it worked. It reminded all the gods and goddesses who they owed for their peace and prosperity, gave the little ones someone to ask for help. It was as much a trip of minor troubleshooting as anything else. Relationships, issues with followers, confusion and fear. A tendril of night grabs a bottle of starwine from a nearby basket (provided by her lovely guardians) and swallows it whole. Two goddesses had paid particular attention to her, Emoch's new little daughter - She-Who-Rewards, her heart was iron and cold. But that was her weakness too, Emoch's ego meant all spirits and gods in his image thought like him - such as Luna. And without their years of bickering and bad blood it was a simple matter to harness that understanding. All it took was a little flattery, some pretty conversation, and She-Who-Rewards understood their relationship perfectly. Favors of kindness in trade for help enforcing the peace, long-term. A simple, harmonious relationship. And then there was Lacerna. Poor little cuckoo bird. Maladine knew what she was going through. That feeling of being torn between two ideals of you it was...it was never easy. Maladine can still feel it in the back of her mind, here and now. A fishhook lodged in her consciousness. Whispers to a ghost she hasn't been since...since...The Second Age plays across her mind again, like an old wound. She winces. Maladine pushes the pain away, back into a corner where it belongs. All Lacerna needed was a little warmth, a little guidance. Another bottle. The memories won't stop replaying. She remembers the last thing she ever saw - the Maw of Serpents, the darkness flying towards her face. And then, pain. Her sister screaming. Luna's hands, her tears against her face. Maladine remembers one of Dearest Sister's favorite songs, something silly about a lost corvain looking for their clan. It was a sweet little song about finding home again, the sort of thing Dearest Sister used to love. Maladine sighs, and all the stars that form her body sigh too. There was still one trip she had to make, one goddess she had to see. The one she had failed the most.
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Apr 23, 2019 17:11
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 Jormgir, the Serpent These ships that cross the seas at unprecedented paces serve as a powerful metaphor for Jormgir's position in this new world. Many gods are creating new things, both literal and metaphorical. Mountains, monsters, m... m... relationships. There is little the Serpent can do to make things better; even if her Serpent's Flag continue their work, they are at best aimed destruction. It is terribly vexing, seeing every god, from the one she pities to those she despises, having an impact upon the world. Is there anything left that Jormgir can do? During the Godsmoot, an answer confronted her. Damage control. Ua, the Living Storm and her former herald, has once again awakened. Simple thing, loyal thing, but very confused about what is going on and why his mistress has not yet begun her dark work. There must be something she can do to curb the worst of Ua's nature. He is little more than a fundamental concept, but no concept is completely evil. Surely there must be something she can do. Surely, there must be something... In a moment of desperation, as she watches Ua approach another coastline, Jormgir acts on instinct. It is, thankfully, not to destroy her pet, but it is only barely better. "Ua!" Perhaps force of proclamation can make up for a weakness of will. "Kemgoz's monsters are an affront and an encroachment upon my identity! Destroy them!" OOC: Flexing the Ua bond to throw it at Kemgoz's toys in the new continent. girl dick energy fucked around with this message at 18:24 on Apr 23, 2019 |
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Apr 23, 2019 18:21
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial Maladine sighs. There was nothing for it. Best to power through it. Maybe today Dearest Sister would be a little more clear-headed, sometimes she was...those moments were tantalizing. They proved she was still in there, deep down inside. Maladine would save her, it was a promise she made a long time ago. It was a promise she would keep. One last drink of starwine. There is a temple, a ruined, squalid thing in an ugly bog. It squats on the landscape like a pimple, boiling with pus and disease. Outside it, threads surge down from the nightsky, weaving Maladine's mask. The swamp lights flicker around her. Maladine can feel the shift in the air, she knows she's here. "Sister, my Dearest Sister, little Starlight." Maladine says sweetly. She knows Kem is listening. She knows she doesn't have to raise her voice. "I've come to see you again, how are you doing?"
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Apr 23, 2019 19:23
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Kemgöz, The Unending Curse of Sin "Who... Who are you. Why have you come. Leave. Leave." I respond with several thousand voices. I don't want to leave my home. It's unbearable to just move outside, to talk. I need something to take my mind off this unending torment. You keep annoying me. Go away. I throw a part of the temple on the direction of the noise. Maybe it'll make the witch leave. "Leave!" I keep shouting at her. I just need some more time alone, to feed on... I stop. Something... Something is wrong.. I see it. One of my eyes sees it. The other ones focus as well. The seas, someone in the seas. They are striking at the creatures I made. Stop. Stop it. I need them. "Who is doing this? Who... The snake? The snake is doing this. I... I will kill her. I will torture her until she stops." The swamp slowly starts to become darker and darker. I extend all of my body, all of my dark outside of the temple. If the witch doesn't leave by good or bad, she'll be engulfed as well. I'll take that snake and... And I'll make it regret it.
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Apr 24, 2019 17:37
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "Dearest Sister, what are you saying? What's happening?" Maladine cocks her head. A Guardian disappears in a burst of starfire. "Is the pain worse than usual?" The Guardian appears again, leans in to whisper. "WHAT?!" Maladine bellows. The Celestial itself quakes, like a cabinet of fine china. She whispers quickly to the little Guardian and dispatches it again. "I don't know why this is happening Sister and I'm here for you right here and right now. We're going to figure this out." Maladine says in one breath. She knew Sister wasn't herself in these moments, but she wasn't going to let herself run from her at the time she needed her the most. ---- A Celestial Guardian appears next to Jorm in a burst of starfire. Maladine's voice rings out from it. "You need to explain what is going on now! I'm with Sister and if you don't stop this second she's going to go on a rampage!"
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Apr 24, 2019 17:47
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Jormgir, the Serpent "It's Ua." Jormgir has no better answer than that, but she keeps talking anyways. Maladine is furious, Kemgoz is furious, the other gods will be furious. She doesn't know what else to do but ramble and hope someone understands. "He was... He was going for the coasts. I can't control him beyond telling him where to go, I didn't know what to do. I... I reacted. I had to tell him to destroy something else and- and I panicked. I'm..." Sorry? No, no no no. It was so much worse than that. What could she do? Mal had been so close to getting through to her sister. Nothing could make them get along now. Nothing but... A common enemy. "If you defend her, and I know you will...." Whatever kind of heart Jormgir had broke into pieces even as she spoke, and the part of her that was once Irri was begging her to do something else, anything else. Mercy, kindness, some- some tactic she had already tried. There was nothing. Nothing else left but what she knew. What Jormguar knew. "Make sure she knows. You have-... you-... I-..." Please forgive me. I tried to be good. I tried."Make sure she knows.... I'm coming for you next, Paladin."
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Apr 24, 2019 17:58
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "You're still good! You panicked in a difficult situation! Let me help you!" The Guardian shouts for Maladine. --- "We can stop this Sister you have to believe me! Please believe me! I know you're in there!"
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Apr 24, 2019 18:02
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Jormgir, the Serpent "I was never good, Mal. No matter what you thought. I'm not even good at pretending." Jormgir can't say anything else, she doesn't dare. If her will weakens, if she lets Maladine talk her around, she will try again. And she will fail again. Again and again and again. There's only one thing she's ever been good at, one thing that made her worthwhile. "I am your adversary, Paladin. I am The Adversary. I always have been, and I always will be."
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Apr 24, 2019 18:43
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "I'm not a paladin, anymore. I haven't been for an Age. And you're not the world-eater anymore. I can hear the fear in your voice. I know how you feel about me." The Guardian pauses. "I feel the same way about you." The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 18:48 on Apr 24, 2019 |
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Apr 24, 2019 18:45
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Jormgir, the Serpent Oh. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. Why, why didn't she tell her sooner? Why didn't she... Because. Deep inside of her, the Serpent-That-Was lashes back. Because it's a lie. Because she wants you to be weak. She can't. She doesn't. "Liar!" There is pain in the roar. Pain and disbelief and a soul-shattering battle between Jormguar and Irri. Irri has support
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Apr 24, 2019 18:53
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "Listen to yourself, Raindrop. You're building yourself a house of misery over one mistake. We can fix this. We can make this better, together. I won't stand by idly and let you throw away all the time we've spent together." The Guardian leans in close. "Do you remember the first time you swam away from me, embarrassed and confused by my flirting? I knew how you felt then, and I knew how I felt then. I only didn't tell you because I didn't know if you were ready to hear it, but you need to hear it now. That you are wonderful, that you are worth loving, and that this is one mistake you have to forgive yourself for making."
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Apr 24, 2019 18:58
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Jormgir, the Serpent "Maladine! Savemesavemesave me from your prattle!" Again she roars, and from her eyes run streams, rivers of salt that raise the levels of every sea in Wax. "You would do naught but delay the inevitable! This is not a mistake! This is what I am! And I don't want to be this any more I want to be Irri again IwanttobeIrriithurtsuthurtsithurtsithurtsithurts!"
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Apr 24, 2019 19:13
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "I need both of you to be strong, for me. For yourselves. I love both of you, together. The whole of you." The Guardian says, barely above a whisper. "You are both so brave, and you are both stronger together. Please, listen to me. I'll be there soon. We can fix all of this."
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Apr 24, 2019 19:17
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Jormgirguar, the Serpent "GetI'llout,try.Paladin! IIhavelovenoyoumoretoo.interestI'minsoyoursorry.lies!" The Guardian is driven away, destroyed, devoured, Jormgirguar doesn't care. Itshe needs solitude. The Godwar has begun. Enemies will be at the gate soon. "Ua! Instrument of my will! imsosorryyoureagoodboyimsosorry Destroy them! Destroy all who threaten you!" girl dick energy fucked around with this message at 19:37 on Apr 24, 2019 |
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Apr 24, 2019 19:35
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Kemgöz, The Unending Curse of Sin "THEN DO IT!" I scream with every single mote of my being. The yell crosses through aether, rumbling through my temple as I leap towards the Witch's direction. My darkness engulfs her and my eyes scan every single part of that meddlesome interloper. "THEN SAVE ME. OR KILL ME AS THE SNAKE WILLS TO. OTHERWISE YOU ARE USELESS TO ME!" I leave, flying towards the seas. "JUST MAKE IT END. OR I'LL END EVERYTHING ELSE!"
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Apr 24, 2019 20:11
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial She has to do something, now. Jorm was writhing in pain, and Dearest Sister was little better. And this would never get better, she suffered for a whole age. An eternity. There would be a chain of these disasters as long as she was like this and...Maladine drags itself to a natural conclusion. She laughs. She cackles. The goddess of madness can hear something like cracking china, like a birdsong choked in a cat's mouth. What a failure she was, what was all her planning, all her designs for if they could all be destroyed by one mistake? More laughter. She falls to her knees, into the muck. The Guardian tries to offer her a glass of starwine, she throws it away. It cowers behind a ruined stump. "Oh Sister! You were right! About everything!" Maladine falls on her side, laughter and tears intermingling. The sound is deafening to the goddess before her. No, there was still one way out. Still one path. She could save everyone, everyone. All it would cost is her soul. The laughter slows, but the tears stay. Maladine listens to the mass of darkness, the wailing, shattered soul of her sister. "YOU! I SPEAK TO YOU! NOT THE SISTER YOU HOLD HOSTAGE!" She screams. Maladine rises on shaky knees. "I SPEAK TO YOU, DARKNESS! ALL YOUR VOICES!" A step forward, towards all the hatred and whispering. "YOU HAVE EATEN NOTHING BUT SLOP! LIVED IN A PRISON THAT HATES YOU! THAT HOLDS YOU BACK!" She clutches at the ragged edges of the Dark. "I OFFER MYSELF AS A WILLING VESSEL FOR YOU! WITH ME YOU WILL FEAST ON THINGS YOU COULD NEVER IMAGINE! ALL I ASK IS YOU SPARE MY SISTER!"
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Apr 24, 2019 20:40
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Kemgöz, The Unending Curse of Sin I stop. I return to the witch. But this isn't what I want to do. I try not to but my essence moves against my will. It swirls around her, sniffing through the core of her Godhead. My will can't stop it, and while the pain relents for a while, it seems I... I am being led by something else. What am I in any case, she talks to someone else, who is she... Is this something within? A single voice, not one of many, yet not of my core, speaks. It sounds like... It sounds like nothing that I ever spoke, but like the voice I have always heard from inside. "S̢̘̼̠̻̩̩̹̫̠͍̠͝p͡͠҉̴̼̗̩̰͕̕e̷̸̡̥͙̮̪͕̳̤͚a̷͚̦̼̘͓̫̺̫͔̙͡͠k̷͇̜̬̪̮̀͡"
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Apr 24, 2019 20:53
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial "A war? Mass starvation? How banal. How EASY!" Maladine laughs. "Have you ever dined on the slow-dawning terror of a mortal realizing everything they ever believed is a lie? The silent desolation of a broken marriage!? The dying dreams of a lost cause?!" Maladine grips the beast tighter. "I know all these tastes and more. None of the others know the darkness of the soul the way I do, You know that! YOU KNOW THAT BECAUSE YOU INFLICTED IT ON ME!" Something drips from the edge of her mouth. A memory, the bitterest memory she can think of - knowing she put her sister through all this pain for her failure. The Dark cannot resist the urge to reach out and take it. "DRINK AND KNOW WHAT REAL SUFFERING TASTES LIKE!"
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Apr 24, 2019 21:04
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Kemgöz, The Unending Curse of Sin That was within suddenly leaps from my body. Leaving from... I... I start to remember. I remember Maladine, and I see that, that pollution going towards her. My hands, now free from the black muck grasps some of the wisps of the dark, pulling it back inside, but almost as much slips through my fingers. I can't let her take this unbearable torment, I can't let anyone else, and, and what I did, I deserve it, I deserve this misery. I pull as hard as I can, taking as much of the darkness within myself before she takes it on. "STOP!" I scream. "LEAVE, MALADINE, PLEASE, YOU CAN'T... YOU CAN'T BECOME THIS!" I only manage to keep half of it from seeping. The tears won't stop. I realize truly deserved this hell I had been through for letting even a single sliver escape. I am so sorry, Maladine.
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Apr 25, 2019 01:53
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Maladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Celestial The whole world can feel it. Hope flickers, the dream of justice is a little less enticing. A shadow, born of disease and poison and hatred, crawls across the ground. Maladine smiles sadly at her sister. "Dearest Sister, little starlight. I love yo-" It surges towards her. It's inside her, around her. Maladine falls to the ground again, screaming. Everything burns. But Sister needs her, one last time. One last time. She grits her teeth, and Kemgoz can see her dig her fingers into her chest as squirming tendrils of darkness push their way through every pore of her body, into her eyesockets and into her mouth. She reaches deep inside, past the lies and the false darkness forged by Luna to be her new form and... crack The fingers dig into something white and pure, something the Dark wants whole and intact. Her heart. crack It tears, like wet paper, like a dream, like banner. "SISTER YOU HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF THE CELE-" The tendrils overwhelm her. She can't speak, the most she can do is throw it at her weak little sister. Deep inside her, she can hear a new voice, and Kem can see the tendrils wrap around what's left of Maladine's heart. Maladine closes her eyes for one last time.
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Apr 25, 2019 02:22
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Forex,Born of the Bonfires, One Who Gives, One Who Takes [Click for chill vibes] "Why, thank you! Would you like some more red tea, Othris? It goes really well with the pastries", Forex asked. Faced with a shy refusal, the god put the pot back at the small table by the fireplace. "In that case, let's get down to business of the first Caducean League Congress. I hope you are as excited as I am! You very well should be, for aside of the very wealth of opportunities this gathering will bring us, I have already been busy working on my end of the bargain. You could consider it an early bird bonus, ha ha!" Forex steps to the side to wheel in a board chiseled from the whitest of marbles, mounted on small set of rotary, steel wheels. The pristine surface hosts an intricate picture drawn with coal. "This, my dear leaguemembers, is the Caduceus. My proposal for the logotype of this establishment. A... symbol, Kihraxz", Forex explains for the somewhat more primal wind. "It is, of course, a matter of consensus among us, so do not be afraid to come forth with suggestions. I do, however, believe, the design shall please you. The composition is centered around a priestly rod, reminding of our divine mandate, while - I believe - being quite recognizable for Othris' followers. The wings that protrude from it stand for the freedom and individual agency - both among us and those inclined to pay respect to us wholesale. I believe the nod towards Kihraxz is self-explanatory. Finally, there's the" "... aesculapian snakes", Hekis interrupted. "But why are there two?" "To represent our unity and cooperation. And to avoid confusion with your personal branding." "... That's all very nice, but I don't see no signs of yours", Othris voiced her lingering hesitance shyly. "Ah, that is true. I have considered some options, but after running them through a focus group", meaning Elaine, "they were deemed too graphically busy. In simple terms, if the logotype cannot be scrawled on a treebark when in grave peril", Forex explains while quickly doodling a greatly simplified version next to the Brand Book prototype, "then it is needlessly exclusionary. Besides, it might be fitting for the silent reminder of what is more than the sum of the parts." "Although... Given my next proposal... What would you think about... this?", Forex asks, drawing a single line. "A... circle?", Kihraxz asks. "An encompassing circle", Hekis notes. "Encompassing and protecting", Forex corrects. "Protection sells in these uncertain times. But, if I may explain the immediate context of this proposal..." The god scrounges through his pockets to find an imperial dinar and shows it clearly in the air. He then closes his fist and molten gold begins to seep from between his fingers, the thin streams landing in the other palm. The red hot metal hisses, but fizzles out in a handful of seconds. Forex picks it up to hold the very same dinar up in the air. It seems... better. Shinier. Rounder. And when the god turns it around in his fingers - the coin's tails depicts the Caduceus, rather than the Great Mausoleum of kings. "As you can well see..." The words come to a still, as all the gods can feel the disturbance of the Celestial, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. It was clear something terrible has happened. "The Dark returned", Kihraxz asked - or stated, as it was rarely clear with his stern voice. "Is a great war upon us?", Othris asked with a cracking voice, the goddess sinking into the soft chair of Forex's cottage. "Arguably a development that might call for an emergency Congress as soon as we establish the nature of what seems like an obvious crisis. But back to the matters we can resolve right now..." Forex spoke calmly, as befitted the self-imposed paternal role of this hand-picked pantheon. Yet as he spoke, embers in his eyes sparked up. "As we have already established, protection sells in these uncertain times. And given the most fortunate selection of gods that had responded to my humble proposal..." --- The major league members are: - [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-xs6YwlN_HU]Hekis, the divine healer. - Othris - Sailor's superstitions made manifest, crucial for staving off Murphy's laws and keeping the complex machinery of a ship operational... for a modest offering to the League. - Kihraxz - the polar wind [meant to be more about cold and ice, the roaring winds being more of a fluff behind it, perhaps more relevant on its home turf]. The action is TRANSMUTE MONEY for a miracle of a whole bunch of coins spontaineously - and stubbornly - turn their tails into the Caduceus symbol. Thankfully they retain their worth in silver and gold, while noticeably cropping up along the Trail. If possible, I intend it do be more about entrenching the newfound league than dealing with personal reputation (narrative-based turf implications? swaying a hesitant god?), but it's fine if it isn't directly felt this very update and we take our time to figure out how did it prove relevant.
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Apr 25, 2019 14:07
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 Nefretask, Paradoxal Deity of Love and Hate "My thoughts... Are clear now." As half of the dark mass that enveloped Kemgoz fades, the figure of the goddess core can now be seen, half of it still covered in the sheer inky black abyss, with the other half shining with the pure light of the former Goddess of Love and Mercy. She looked at the dark carrying her sister far away, and thoughts came to her... About how foolish Maladine was for taking that thing within her, and regret that she wasn't foolish enough to prevent it from leaving her body. Pain still wracked Nefretask's body, but instead of bringing her the madness of a raging beast, she accepted it as penance for the sheer cruelty and selfishness of the acts she took before this happened. She floats away from the temple. There... There must be somewhere calm where she can gather her thoughts, and try to figure a way to fix all of this.
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Apr 26, 2019 22:58
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 Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked Blackness takes her, she dreams. Not of stars or gods or even mortals, but a vast sea of nothing. Colors that cannot be, dreams and words and thoughts never meant to fit into the schema of reality. Her mind swims through them, drinking, changing, warping with the currents. Each has a different story, a different pain. They are everything that never could be, never will be, full of hollow noise. They ring in her mind too. She understands. How foolish to think this could be killed. It is like thinking you could put a knife to the throat of zero. --- Kaladine opens her eyes. She blinks. Once. Twice. Laughter rings out across the bog, shakes in every infected pustule and paranoid dream. A mass of tentacles, writhing, squelching, singing in broken voices, pulls itself up. They shake, shiver, and finally bloom, revealing her again. She could still sense Dearest Sister, where did she go? No time, a certain impertinent serpent had to be stopped. Kaladine's mind swirls, boils, hisses. The Dark whispers, some want murder, some want torture, some want simple drama. She chuckles. "No, let me handle this. I have a plan." She says inside the sea of herself, in the same stern matronly voice she'd used to scold a lesser goddess. They bicker for a second longer, and then fall silent. She smiles. --- The shores of a distant land, a great sea-serpent can smell something - like rotting flesh and old tears. A well of darkness erupts on the shore near her, and black tentacles with purple rings erupt from it. Out of them steps a goddess in a long purple robe, wearing a witch's hat that ends in a dangling tentacle, facing away from the serpent. She is vaguely familiar...something in the motion, the easy grace. "And who would attack those that serve me? The Sommelier of Sorrow, the Mistress of Misery, the Witch-Empress of the Wicked, the exalted evil that is Kaladine-Aeo'na?" She turns to the serpent, revealing two cephalod's eyes, and a face that once belonged to a goddess named something else. "Oh? The World-Eater herself? Surely this is a mistake." She scowls at the towering serpent as if it were a misbehaving child. "Surrender now, and I may show some modicum of mercy." The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 04:01 on Apr 27, 2019 |
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Apr 26, 2019 23:38
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Jormguargir, the Serpent Nothing is wrong.Everything hurts.This is what Jormguar is meant to be.Jormgir is better.The voices will be silent.Please let me go. The battle rages onward inside of Jormguargir. It will take Agesmoments before she can be whole again. This time is interrupted before it can even be begun as a pit of darkness opens. Kemgoz. Of course she would come when attacked. And for the briefest of moments, though their reasons are different, Jormguar and Irri are in agreement. Kemgoz must be ended. Some good can come of this tragedy, and their hunger can end. Infinite darkness, meet bottomless hunger. Well, that was the plan, anyways. Again, the two hearts agree. And this time, it is in shock and, in one case, pain. "Maladine?!My love?! What are you doing here?"
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Apr 27, 2019 08:37
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked "Have your many eyes failed you, World-Eater? That is a name I have shed, as you shed a ragged skin. I have saved my Sister, and bathed in the grace of the Dark. My name is Kaladine-Aeo'na, and you would do well to remember that." She smirks at the great creature, her pupils bend into crescents. She drinks in the colors of Jorm's wonderful coils. "And I must say, you are even more breath-taking than I could have imagined." The smirk fades back into the scowl. "But that is not why we are here. You have made war upon those who serve the banner of evil, my The tentacle on the edge of her hat curls and twitches. Kaladine can feel all the sounds instead her listening. She had one chance to impress them, to show them her guidance was everything she promised. "But I am yet still a being of some minor mercy. Clearly you have struck me and mine in confusion. Is that not so?" The purple-black sludge around the frayed edges of her robe twitches, shapes move beneath the surface. The serpent can almost see eyes swirling in the mass.
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Apr 27, 2019 08:49
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Jormguargir, the Serpent "Do not presume you know my motives, Fallen Paladin." She wears a different skin, a different name, but neither that nor even the darkness inside of her can change the truth. Deep inside, she is still- "Mal!" A moment has presented itself, and the moment has been seized. With every ounce of strength left in her, Irri, the sea goddess that has tried for an Age to change Jormguar from the inside, breaks free. It is a violent, bloody affair. From between a gap in two scales, a spring of clean seawater sprays forth. Through that, reaching into the open air towards Kaladine, is a hand. Behind it, an arm, a shoulder, a head. All the forces of Wax could not completely separate the two deities, but they do not need to separate completely, or for more than a moment. Covered in brackish water, rotting seaweed, and the detritus of a thousand ships, Irri is hardly recognizable. Only her eyes, windows into the sky after a storm, are the same. They look up at Kaladine, pleadingly, as she reaches out with her one free hand. If Maladine, the only hope Irri had still held on to, was gone, then she could not be rescued. Instead, in her last desperate gamble, the sea goddess reaches from the now-thrashing Serpent, and tightly grasps Kaladine's wrist. "Please!" She begs, "Let me drink! Kill me!"
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Apr 27, 2019 09:06
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked Kaladine looks down at the rotting mass. Outside, she wears a sad smile. Inside, she is a thousand grinning mouths. Poor little Irri. Just as she had hoped, the chain she would slip around the Serpent's neck. "Irri, my love, I warn you this will not end the way you think it will." She turns over the wrist in the weak goddess's hand. Two tentacles appear from its sleeve. They tear open the skin, revealing a horrid purple-black tar that bubbles in the air. The little goddess does not hesitate for a moment. "Thank you, I'm sorry." She says, and then shoves her mouth into the wound. Irri tastes bile, rotting flesh. In her ears there is screaming. A great and terrible sound. And a moment too late, she realizes her mistake. Kaladine wraps her other arm around the ruins of the little goddess and strokes her ragged seaweed hair. "Shhh...shhh little Raindrop. It'll be over soon. You'll feel all better."
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Apr 27, 2019 09:19
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 ??? How can there be so much darkness and yet so much pain? Irri realizes in horror, as she pulls away, that Kaladine has no interest in killing her. Even in her last moments, the Merciful Mother cannot help but admire her cleverness. How far ahead was she planning? Did she know this would happen, or was it all just exceptional improvisation? Either way, it is impressive, and Irri tries to make her final words say as such. Then, a new shock of pain roars through her, and her throat is too clogged with rotten bile to scream. Jormguar, sensing her weakness, pulls her back inside of its body. It, too, only realizes its mistake when the corruption starts to spread within it... Jormguar, Irri, and this new presence, they twist and roil inside the thousand-thousand bottomless stomachs of the World-Eater. The Dark tries to merge them, to tame their disharmony, and fails... to an extent. Rather than combine cleanly, into one powerful goddess, all three entities maintain some level of control, of independence. A hydra, of sorts, though not combined so cleanly as to simply have three heads. Eyes, great and unblinking, rip open along Jormguar's sides. It opens is mouth to roar, and its throat becomes a chasm filled with countless sets of teeth and jaws. Its body, once cleanly serpentine, twists and deforms. "What's happening to me?" It, she, they feel so many ways. Thoughts and desires that once belonged to one may now belong to another, but they are always separate. Jormgir is dead, but Jormguar is not. Irri is not. And this new being, Oz, is not either. Each lays claim to a part of the serpent, dividing it up like they would the spoils of battle or the pieces of a world. Oz claims the lidless eyes which can see to the deepest trenches, and into the hearts of men. Irri claims the mouth. Not the lips and the teeth and the throat, but the ability to speak, to make their thoughts known, on the rare occasion that they are unified enough to be worth telling. And lastly, of course, the thousand-thousand gullets.These needs very little change, and Jormguar is very pleased with that. Everything else? Not so much. "Kaladine...!We!Hunger.Why?Live!Feast. Why?! I'm-...!" Name. Three deific powers all try to proclaim their names at the same time, and the sounds merge into a form just as ugly as the rest of her. "WeWeWE areareARE JJJooOrrRmmMggGooOzzZiiIr!r!R!"  JJJooOrrRmmMggGooOzzZiiIrrR, the ADSwEeaVrkOpeUenRneEtdR
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Apr 27, 2019 10:11
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked “Yes, yes you are. And I love you. The whole of you.” Kaladine leans forward and kisses Jormgozir. It is a fierce kiss, a hungry thing wrapped up in all their history and shared pain. She leaves her head bowed against her after. “Now, we should leave this place. I’m very tired, and I’m sure you would like to rest as well.”
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Apr 27, 2019 10:31
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Wax shakes with the aftereffects of the Division of the Dark, as it comes to be known in the following years. The Errant Covens lose their faith in their patron goddess, having felt the corruption take hold of her. Looking to the sky, out of ingrained habit, now feels them with dread and the certainty of the encroaching darkness. And yet. There is hope, for the Darkness isn't eternal, and even the Celestial's brightest stars are washed away by the light of dawn. And so, for the first time in Wax's history, they start praying to the Sun, hoping for salvation. It would be a fool's errand, weren't scraps of Maladine and Jormgir's divested essences laying around. They congeal, bolstered by desperate hope. And on a hot and unyielding summer day, all who look at the Sun see it flaring with newfound power, the yellow orb almost cracking and shedding, only to be reborn as a blaze of the brightest white. And from it, Ixhisitl emerges. Emoch cares little for others squabbling and their petty drama, but even he can't suppress a mote of satisfaction when he notices that the Witch let go of her hold on the Celestial and on the precious souls that flow through it. He-Who-Cleaves, his latest creation, has been adequate at his job, possessing exceptional mortals to harvest other exceptional mortals' souls, making for great fodder for Arrach's poems in the meantime. Emoch now knows that it's virtue and vice that can either taint or strengthen a soul: the stronger is the excess in either direction, the better is the quality of the resulting Soulmetal. He also hears She-Who-Rewards clamoring for his attention, her words backed by a particularly juicy shipment of Souls courtesy of the Serpent's pet storm. Forex has little luck with his scheme: many see it as an heartless attempt at profiting from chaos and misfortune, which is an unkind, if maybe accurate, description. Spirits and minor gods thumb their nose at the league for now, but may be swayed in future. They are fickle beings, after all. OOC: So that was a thing. Whew. Kaladine, Jormgozir, Nefretask and Ixhisitl are now a thing, and should update the sheet description if they haven't already. Kaladine loses all points in Believers Resistance, can no longer gain them, and takes +1 to all Believer stress rolls. Kaladine, Jormgozir, Nefretask take 5 Will stress, with no fallout roll, representing their identities shifting and becoming more unstable. They also gain the Tripartite Prison condition. Tripartite Prison: You have split the Dark and taken a piece inside you. It is part of you, but it isn't you. The pieces shouldn't be allowed to align and cooperate. If you try to achieve the same goal as another god with this condition, the task gains an added difficulty point. This can be ignored for two points of Substance stress. If all three of you converge, the Dark inside you will resonate and take control. It won't be pretty. Emoch gains He-Who-Cleaves as a bond. Forex takes 2 Reputation stress. LupusAter fucked around with this message at 13:42 on Apr 27, 2019 |
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Apr 27, 2019 11:51
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JJJooOrrRmmMggGooOzzZiiIrrR, the ADSwEeaVrkOpeUenRneEtdR Existence as a triumvirate, who is also part of another triumvirate, is straining on a god's identity. Jormgir is no more. Irri is no more. Oz is no more. Not as independent entities, just pieces of a puzzle tsihheTey does not yet even know the shape of. The introduction of the Dark has changed things in dramatic ways, internal and external, but it is no longer present as a separate entity. There is no guidance, no statement of expectation. Oz took a hold of Jormgozir, tainted thIheeTrm, and then refused to be anything more or less than a third of the mess left behind. TSIhheTey must take some time to understand what this means, who and what Jormgozir is. Kaladine, as well, is a piece of the puzzle. How is tsIhheTey supposed to know how to handle love? especially when you have a feeling in your very essence that working too closely with that lover would put both of you at risk. The answer is, for once, surprisingly simple. HUNGRY. For a moment, tsIhheTey considers going right back to the coastline where Kaladine and Kemgoz's creations were, but... hm. Not here! We would anger our last ally. HUNGRY! There are tastier morsels to be had. Those we can gorge ourselves on to our heart's content, and be thanked for it! ...we must not forget who we are. ...thinking about it, Jormgir did leave some pretty tasty looking cults just lying out on the coastlines when she left. What harm could there be in a little snack? It is what's expected of us. We cannot rock the boat any more than we already have. Two are in agreement. And the third? ...FOOD. Aw, see? Look how easily we resolved this. What's there to be worried about? OOC: Gonna use Destroy and Carnage to chow down on some doomsday cultists to reinforce our sense of identity and knock off some of that Will stress. Mortals want a big snake who devours the believers then destroys the rest? Mortals are gonna get a big snake who devours the believers then destroys the rest.
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Apr 27, 2019 13:46
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked The Dark squeals with delight as her lips pull away, scarred and bloodied by her encounter with Jormgozir's jaws. Control, misery, and pain, all through the sweetest of emotions. It is a taste so new to them they nearly pass out with delight. Kaladine smiles. "Go then, my love. Feed. Let me know when you want to spend more time together. Know that I am always here for you." Her hands brush across the fangs as Jormgozir turns. She watches the coils, covered in eyes and scars, dissolve under the waves. Perfect. After she leaves, Kaladine walks along the shore and ponders. She can feel the cracks in her identity, they are fine, like the hair of a child in the grips of a consumption, and threaded deep through her --- In the high ceilings above the Vault, there is a smear of oil. It spreads. It grows. It blooms with cephalopod eyes, tentacles follow, grasping and hungry and desperate.The mass drips upon the cavern floor, and Kaladine rises from it. The smear on the ceiling disappears, and a throne of octopode arms rises from the muck below Kaladine. She sits upon it and crosses her legs. A bottle of distilled agony appears upon an arm of the throne. She pours herself a glass and inhales the bouquet before taking a sip (what a delightfully dry taste!) and calling out to her old foe. "Worldshaper! I, the most exalted evil upon Wax, request an audience with your magnificence!"
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Apr 27, 2019 18:21
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Emoch-Ma'Haar, The Smith In The Deep, The Worldshaper, The Vaultkeeper The Golden Gates start to emit harmonious clacking, an echo of a time before there was any life atop Wax, as they peel themselves open with peerless mechanical grace. Out of the forbidden halls of the Vaults steps Emoch, Soulhammer held in hand and resting against his shoulder, carrying himself not akin to a warrior at ease, but rather like an artisan distracted from some important project. A moment of silence follows, as heavy as the Earth itself, as Emoch appraised this strange entity that had come to his halls. He took in her form, the whiff of Outer Dark that clung to her, the octopoid eyes she now seemed to possess. An entity to some degree familiar, but to a greater degree something new. Then he laughed. Not the sort of derisive, mocking laugh like was usual. This seemed almost amused, to a degree. Then he spoke. "Now is that so?" "On other instances I would be disinclined to waste time with prattle, but I might make an exception for somebody who comes clothed in the trappings of proper deference and the husk of the hated Star Witch." He raised a finger. "But if, and only if this so called 'most exalted evil upon Wax' tells me what she is called, and how she came to be." "SPEAK."
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Apr 27, 2019 18:39
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Kaladine-Aeo'na, Witch-Empress Of The Wicked Kaladine chuckles. "I recognize the name you once called this body, but I am Kaladine-Aeo'na. She who bathed in the Dark so I might cleanse myself of my mistakes." She stops to take a sip and lounge against her throne. "I bear much of her mind, and half of her heart but I am a different being. There are no childish pretenses, no delusions that my will serves anyone else." Kaladine swirls her glass, and watches the gemstones of the Vault reflect against it's glass. "And I come to you with a proposal. I can smell your works, they are drenched in the sin that I am born of. You seek to fire the Soul in the flames of darkness, do you not?"
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Apr 27, 2019 18:51
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Emoch-Ma'Haar, The Smith In The Deep, The Worldshaper, The Vaultkeeper It was difficult to glean any changes in Emoch's demeanor through his helm and his armor, but in some sense he seemed almost pleased. "The very fact that you are here instead of squirming behind a hundred proxies and worthless bootlicks tells me that you are not her. And that indeed, she is for all intents and purposes, gone. The best news I've heard in ages." "As per your proposal, I will merely state that your senses do not deceive you, Goddess of Evil. I seek Souls that are pure, in light or in dark, to perform as the raw Substance of my work. You see only the ones that are dark, for the ones that were light Maladine fought fiercely for, and they evaded my grasp." Emoch crossed his arms. "If you are here to claim them as your own, I will OPPOSE you. None shall take from Emoch-Ma'Haar that which is His."
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Apr 27, 2019 19:04
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