Deification (IC)(Mature)

[Chairtastic]

OOC is here.  Keep it there as much as possible.

    Your world is broken.  You were the Gods, forces of the universe given name and a will of your own.  Your power was vast, your worshipers many, and reverent as they should have stayed.  Notice how all of this is referred to in the past tense.  Your King betrayed the trust you placed in him.  He killed your friends and family, usurped your cities.  Took your worshipers for his own.  Anything that he could not make utterly his was destroyed or worse.  But you survived.

    Survived to inherit a world fraying at the edges.  The Sun, one of the first to die, is now clouded perpetually, leaving the world to grow ever darker and colder.  Volcanoes erupt frequently and violently; the forces which kept them abated now dead and gone.  The forests fade away, due to both the lack of sunshine, and their own patron's murder.  Song, love...these things are gone.  Do you understand?!  Dead, not coming back!

   The faith of your followers lessens the pains you have suffered.  But they need you now more than ever.  Isolated on inhospitable rocks loosely called islands.  Islands you abandoned for the mainland which is now beyond your reach.  These mortals are dying: disease eats away at the fringes of their populations.  The drive to celebrate is abandoning them.  And you can feel the Sea which surrounds your islands, not quite dead yet, but dying.

    Your world is broken, and you must fix it; I advise you: Get to work.  Now.

[techmaster-glitch]

Mortal Plane

  The people of one island, Argondan, on the archipelago were existing barely above a primitive tribal state when the world shook. The sky went dark, and all members had a feeling of deep loss. Eventually, members of the tribe suddenly got flashes of various inspiration. Over time, reading and writing re-emerged among this tribe, and they set about trying to make better tools and started building better structures around them.

Diety Plane

  Zaltan had the barest shred of himself present on a shared plane he stmbled across, drawn to it as it seemed to be a beacon of god-essences. More than a year had passed in the mortal world, but to Zaltan, it felt as if he had only just arrived.
  Currently feeblest of all the gods, Zaltan approached the others in the realm of nothingness and everythingness. "I...I am very weak. The world has changed. What just happened?" He asked. "The King...I remember the King..."

[Techcubi]

The god of the hunt felt weak, as he stood hunched over the world board, hair looking more grayish than black.  He was only wearing his usual barbarian-type wear. Turas and Morina, two of his children who he had convinced Tezkatl to not bring to the land of the dead, were looking concerned about him.

Turas sighed. "Father, I'm not completely sure about your plans so far. Was transforming wolves into sapients really such a great idea?"

Kuntorus looked at his son irritably, as though the answer was obvious. "Wolves are both embodiments of wilderness and the hunt. Besides...There are no lions on my island currently, unfortunately, so, I had to make due."

Morina added in a question of her own. "What about Luntarus, Father? Was using your power to create the temple where time speeds, breeding with one of your wolven followers, and, teaching the child how to hunt one of the best uses of your powers?"

The god of hunting and wilderness looked back at his daughter. "The tribe needs a fit physical leader. With his blood and hunting skills, plus whatever else I've taught him, he will make a fine leader for the tribe. Speaking of Luntarus..." Suddenly, he closed his eyes
.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luntarus was getting ready for a new hunt, when he suddenly heard a voice in his head. My son. Luntarus looked around the hut. "Father?" Listen to me. We need to expand the following to another island. Gather  1/3 of our hunters, 1/3 of the women, and, 1/3 of the children. The tribe needs to build a boat, and sail to the west. You with them. "Me? But, father, I-" I NEED you for this...Leave your second-in-command in charge of the tribe on the island while you're gone. Luntarus nodded. "Understood." Then, he walked out of the hut. He was soon greeted by his second-in-command, a full-blooded wolf anthro named Timasus. "Sir?" Luntarus looked at him. "Tell our workers to start gathering whatever wood there is. We're building a boat for 1/3 of our tribe to sail west. Father's orders." Timasus nodded. "Understood." Then, Timasus went off to give the orders. Meanwhile, Luntarus looked all around at the village. Was he really ready for this...?

[Inumo]

It had been a long time since I had inhabited this island. It was... odd, returning to my roots. I looked down, through the island, at my people, my Mish'Na. They struggled to keep themselves alive as the Sea slowly wilted and died, removing their main food source. I had a plan to make the island more comfortable, if not necessarily luxurious, but first, I had to find out who was still alive after the King had risen, wounding and slaying many of my kind. A little wisp ascended, and through it I asked, "Who still lives after such a rampage as the King has incurred?" Meanwhile, I set about to taking stock of my children's provisions for shelter, food, and water.

[VAE]

And once again, the world shook, up to its very foundations. And the noise of the earth shattering resounded through the gates of the underworld, to the ears of a slumbering feline deity, which up to now has been healing his wounds from the fight with the God-King, oblivious to earthly matters.
Earth shook once more as the lynx arose and stretched himself. Then, he began rise to the surface, through paths almost as old as the surrounding earth, known only to himself and perhaps the jaguar god Tezkatl.
Once again, Horiv prowled the earth, and honestly, he wasn't impressed.

Mortal realm
In one of the hilly islands up north, something remarkable happened.... the earthquakes tearing the soil ceased, and the gaping wounds they have left in the now dry soil began to close slowly. On the surrounding isles, the situation wasn't quite as pink, but their intensity began to drop off nevertheless, with as slowly increasing  radius, centered on one of the islands' mountains.
The small populace that has remained on the island noticed something has changed... it seemed that although still violent, the earth was bound once again.
It wasn't a reason to rejoice, but life became just a small bit better.

Astral Plane
"And you aren't the only... i can barely keep the earth united at this time..."
"The King is a" *snarl* "traitor" a voice resounded in response to the knowledge god. "He tried to kill me, but the gates of my realm reach the roots of earth, and are far too mighty even for his steel. You can feel that many of us weren't so lucky... " The lynx focused on the other deity's form.
"I would have supposed though, the god of knowledge would be better informed.... "
The feline began to lick his paw...

[AmberCross]

In an island isolated by sheer cliffs, fierce wind, and turbulent waves far away from the delights of modern civilization, a tribe of people lay destitute, barely living while their world dies around them. An imperceptible feeling rolls over the isle causing a brief stir within the people. Most do not know what to make of it and lay around, confused and about to dismiss it as nothing when the elder dredged up a memory of a memory told to him by the elder before him in passing. "I know what has just happened," he said. At the age of 42, the elder was the oldest anyone had lived for several generations. Most expected he would not last much longer, but there was no disputing that he was the wisest of them all, and so the tribe gathered themselves from their despondence and began to listen as he began, "We were not always alone on this island. Once upon a time, before my grandfather's grandfather's grandfather..."

In the Isle of Ael, the spark of life had once more been kindled. It could still go out with a stray gust of wind, but perhaps that wind would instead blow it into a fiery blaze. There was only one way to find out.

In the plane of the gods, a mist stirred and began to gather. A voice rang out of it, reminiscent of a soft whisper. "Do not taunt The Scholar. It may have been his own inattention that let him be wounded, but wounded he has been... the core of his knowledge torn from him. I myself am... vague on what has happened. I do not know as yet who has lived and who has died save for a few, but I was one of the first to be attacked. I knew I would not succeed if I fought him and it would lead to my true demise so I instead let our would be king 'destroy' me and tear me asunder, knowing it is harder to kill one such as I than it was to kill the sun. I remember he died shortly before I did. Still, as I scattered myself instead of fight I am still alive, though as yet still scattered."

Aellor (for he was of course the mist) trailed off as a floating from drifted into the room singing of pirates and fridgons and other such things before reaching the mist which absorbed it and turned green. "Still scattered... our ex-king was a fool to attack us. If he had truly succeeded in killing me, the very world would have started to unbind and fall back into the chaos from which it came. Indeed, if any of us that survived had not, the world could very well have come undone by some means or another. It may yet do so anyway if we do not hurry. Tezkatl! I know you at least also survived. I would have felt the loss in my stars had you died... I must speak with you about creating a new sun. If any of our new/old people are to thrive and survive, they will need it soon."

[Inumo]

I floated a careful distance from those still among the Pantheon as I started to focus a small bit more into the divine realm. "I worry more for the god of the waters. It appears as though he has lost the strength to even manifest himself here, and it frightens me. He supports my creations in their caverns below the island. I shall endeavor to find and aid him; in the meantime, it is sad to see so many of our brethren lost. I always felt akin to the Sun, that planet who shines so bright. May he find a fair progeny amidst ourselves."

[Corgatha Taldorthar]

The Temple

Rage still dominated Jerrel's brain. He didn't like being angry, didn't like losing his imperturbability, but the sheer GALL of it all! He had helped that ungrateful bastard, smoothed edges out of his rule, made sure that things went calmly, orderly. Above all of his fellows, HE had been the one with the most invested in the kingdom itself, and to be excoriated like that. Had it been a year? A decade? More? He remembered calling a woman in, but not her name, siring Sabathiel on her; an Appointed for the times to come. The rest was lost in a red haze.


Even now, he was only beginning to collect himself, and he did not remember how four senior priests came to be kneeling in the ordering chamber, what purpose, if any, he had in mind when he summoned them. Nevertheless, they were here now, and there was work to be done.

"We have been wantonly, cruelly betrayed, and we shall not suffer this without our retribution. It will not happen today, and it will not happen tomorrow, but we must prepare the way for it now. Go, to all the corners of Teleothial, and strengthen the people for a future war. Stores must be laid in, weapons crafted, boats wrought, people trained to march and fight in unison. It will not be quick, so we must take the first steps immediately. Hard times are coming, and we must be ready to strike. Go!  Make the arrangements, inform me if there are any problems. I will deal with them."

With a lurch, he shifted his awareness. Surely, his colleagues had felt similar shocks, and there was a place that they occasionally gathered..

The Divine Meeting-Room.

Jerrel gave out a brief pant as  he entered the 'Room', spying four survivors. Shifting his awareness again, he scrolled his perceptions backwards through time, catching up on what had transpired. Little, it seemed, and he was thankful; it was a trivial trick to look back like this, but it left him far more taxed than he was used to, becoming accustomed to his reduced stature was irritating.

Speaking to all and none, Jerrel pronounced, "we must do more than survive. I doubt that the King will be content if he learns that any of us yet live. His actions are an affront to all, Gods and Men, toiling in unison. The cancer must be cut out.  But I am weak, and with chary perception, I see that we are all weak. I do not recall. How did he drive mortal minds away from us? If we can restore that belief, we can perhaps revive our fallen brethren, or create them anew."

[SquirrelWizard]

Mortal Realm

The boats huddled together like a small group of sheep that had been separated from the herd, as they withstood the torential onslaught of the storm. The crew had their hands full trying to keep the ships afloat, while the passengers clung to each other in some vain hope that their closeness to one and another would somehow stave off their inevitable demise. There was very little speaking, both due to the gloom of their prediciment, and the horrid wailing of the wind. But, there was very little need for words, everybody knew that they were doomed. It was all just a matter of time.

Captain Capasian Svolth was a good man, at least in his own eyes. He was fair with his dealings and earned an honest coin for it, and his bread was that of his own sweat, and his wine that of the skill of he and his men. He was by no means sacreligous but, in his time, he had sought very little from the gods that he couldn't get on his own. This storm was the worst he had ever seen, it roiled up without warning, and there seemed no end in sight. Though the ships were crowded, he had seen that they had adequate provisions, but even this was not what he was expecting when he agreed to join this group of refugees.

Capasian was a man of vision, when he heard their plight it only confirmed his growing suspicion. People were changing; not in the physical sense, but in their minds and hearts. You could fight monsters, and you could fight words, but a man could not deny his own heart, or his mind. Their only option was an exodus to the Agrian Abyss; an ancient, savage swath of small volcanic islands, all but uninhabited except for the most determined of peoples. A no-mans land that even the civilizations of the mainland had written off. It would be there these people would find a niche, and hopefully be able to forge their own lives, or die. It was the people he was thinking about as he made his way to the back of his hold as the waves outside threatened to pitch his feet from under him. He had to ask her, the seer, to intercede with the gods on their behalf. To see if she could find some way to cajole them into granting them safe passage.

She was known only as the seer, and had flaming red hair and piercing green eyes. The Seer hardly ever seem to speak, and when she it was in cryptic phrases and maddening riddles. She had been allowed on board because to do otherwise would likely invoke the wrath of which ever god whos ear she had bent. Now, with the onset of the storm, there were whispers that she was the cause of their ill will. As Capasian neared where she had taken residence, he saw that the others had abandoned the hold, prefering the overcrowding of the front over nearness to her. As he approached her, he could not help but notice that while he had to periodically brace himself on beams to remain upright, her standing form did not waver. Whatever witchcraft she practiced seemed to protect her from the brunt of the ill effects of the storm. She merely stood in the middle of a small circle of runes scratched into the floor of the hold, seemingly meditating or praying.

Masota was stretched thin. Though the man would not have seen it, she was under quite a bit of pressure. It is untrue that gods are limited to only certain domains. Gods are gods, they can exercise their powers over reality as they see fit, but some find certain "aspects" easier to manipulate than others. Whipping up a violent storm that would sink these ships yet remain small enough to be relatively out of the god of weather's sight was no small feat for the god of luck. It was taking a considerable amount of energy, that she did not have, to maintain it. Masota was burning like a candle on both ends, and soon enough there would be naught much of her than a faint memory. But, soon the pieces would be in place, and her plan would be set in motion. She would survive this, (after all what good is being a god of luck if you couldn't spit in fate's eye?) albiet very diminished, but would be in a better posistion. Yes, a much better posistion to rebuild. She looked up from her feigned meditative stance to the man before her, "Yes? Why have you come before me?"

Capasian clung to a beam to maintain his balance, "Forgive me Seer. I've interrupted your meditation only because our need is dire. We cannot last much longer in this storm, and I have come on everybody's behalf to beseech you to ask the gods to have pity on our poor souls. We do not know what we did to incur their wrath, but if there is something we can do to appease them, then we shall do it!"

Masota bowed her head as if to confer with someone, then looked back up, "Yes, the gods have their hand in this, yet they themselves are not responsible."

The man's brow furrowed, "What do you mean? That made no sense!?"

Masota's face broke into a wry grin, "There has been an upheaval amongst the gods, many have been cast down, some are mere tatters of themselves. Only one stands now, a great and terrible god who spreads like a plague. The very force from which you have run from. Do not seek him, for he will not answer your prayers. But, there is one of the few who has taken notice. She has seen you and all you have done, and the determination of all the souls stranded upon these vessels. She is willing to listen, but her price is steep, and it is only a price that you can pay."

Capasian hung his head in thought, the news was terrible indeed. The divine realm fraught with war, the prospect that he and his crew might very well find themselves damned in an underworld with no keeper, no judgement. Doomed to choke upon the dust of the nether until time ended. The only thing that seemed to stand between these people and this reality was the Seer's godess. He was a man of vision, but even he could plainly see the options folding out infront of him, "I... accept... this Goddess, what are her terms. What do I need to do to secure safety for my people?"

"and now for a bit of theatrics," Masota's entire body seemed to spasm and quake. She let loose a wild howl, which chilled the man to his bones, and collapsed to the floorboards. Abruptly she stood up, her features were more refined, and her voice had developed an etherial quality, "My dear captain, I thought you would never ask. I am called many names, but my own is Masota, and I am the goddess of Luck. I have seen your plight, but it is not within my power to prevent. I applaud your tenacity and skill, but your ships will sink, eventually. I find favor in your kind though. Swear you and your people's allegience to me, and I shall see to it that most of your people survive this storm."

Capasian stared at the possessed woman in awe, he bowed down, "I, Capasian Svolth, do hereby place myself at your feet great Masota, and do hearby swear upon the behalf of my people and I, that we will serve you till our dying breathes, that your will shall be our own, that we shall be in your service as we are needed."

Masota smiled and reached down to the man's shoulder. Where her hand rested there was a searing flash of light as the silouhette of an acorn had been branded on the man's flesh, "Arise Capasian and listened. As you favor me, I too shall favor you and your kind. Hold true to my tenants and I, and you shall not find me far from your side. Not much more than a stone throw to the south is an inlet. Loose anything that can float and order the people to seek them out in the water. I cannot garuntee that all shall survive, but many will. You will find dry wood upon landing on the shore, use it to bring warmth to your people, and to explain their parts in our bargain. Warn them against disent, and remind them that they are guest upon my island. Finally, search the cliffs for a path, it should lead you to a jungle. There will be clean water and food in abundance. It will be here that we will forge our world anew." With this, Masota arched her head back, and screamed. Her voice pierced high over the wind, and the body of the Seer exploded in a flash of brilliant light.

Capasian stared in awe at the motes of light as they floated around him. He could already hear the ominous groaning of wood that was beginning to be stressed beyond its limit. A harsh whisper of, "Move, there is not much time!" snapped him out of his reverie and sent him flying to the rest of the ship to spread the word... the word of Masota.

Masota breathed a sigh of relief as she finally crushed the ships with the storm. It took a little more effort to make the currents pull the survivors of the wrecks into the inlet, but after that she let the storm blow itself out. The raging violence simmered down to a light rain, then finally to that of a dusky grey sky overshadowing the island that the survivors soon found themselves on.

The Divine Meeting Room of Middle Management

An apple peel fell from above and passed through the thin wisp that was Kesh'Noria. From above, Masota was reclining at her perch, dressed in a vibrantly colored dress, and the features of fox and squirrel. She seemed busy peeling the skin off of the fruit in her hand as she spoke, "Oh... woe is us. We are weakened, we were betrayed, what ever shall we do?" her voice dripped with sarcasm as apple peels continued to fall from her perch, "The humans foresaw this you know. But, I doubt you would have noticed. It was in their stories; not in their words, but their underlying meaning. Men, Nations, Civilizations rise and fall over petty things such as power. Should we gods be any different?"

[techmaster-glitch]

Diety Plane

   Zaltan did not respond immediately to Horiv's words, but directed his attention to Aellor. "Thank you, Everchanging." Returning his focus to Horiv, he replied, "I am mortal knowledge, and I was not...initially aware of the event as it happened. And I have lost...nearly everything. I have been cut off from my knowledge. I am still trying to reassert myself in the mortal realm. I am having limited success, but still some." As the others obvserved Zaltan, they could tell his "in diety terms" near-insubstantial form as barely starting to "solidify".
   He then stepped back, listened, and observed as the others took stock of the situation--finding out who was alive, and who was missing.
   

[Techcubi]

Kuntorus frowned. "Are you all telling me that you have only just started to prepare for this? That you were just RECENTLY aware of what has conspired? Bah! You all are wasting time...And, as for you, Jerrel, the so-called mighty judge...What kind of faulty judgement is it for you to attack the mainland before you are completely ready? Incase you don't know, our former king has the mainland, which basically means, he controls the majority of followers. Attacking now would be SUICIDE...My respect for you was already low. This just makes it even worse."

Suddenly, the God of wilderness and Hunting growled, and turned toward the others. "None of you are even close to being prepared for this. NONE OF YOU! While I prepared for who knows how long, the majority of you have been in hiding, or worse..."

Turas tried to calm down his father. "Father, listen-"

"NO!" Then, Kuntorus groaned. "I have no more time for listening to any of you..." Then, he looked down at the game board, on his island. He was looking to see how the tribe was doing.

[Corgatha Taldorthar]

Jerrel did not deign to adjust his gaze, and his voice dropped in tone, though losing none of its force.

"Idiot child. Has the long hours spent guzzling blood bereft you so much that you need puts words in the mouths of others to carry your point across? We must destroy the King before he unmakes the cycles of Life and Death itself, but an immediate strike is useless. Look, if you can be bothered. My own preparations will take time to complete, and unlike yours, they are directed towards a concrete goal, each step along the way creating a benefit towards the totality.


What have you gained by splitting your folk apart? I hear your mortals whispering, gathering wood to build a boat to the west. You cannot run from apocalypse, and this storm shall not simply blow over. If you must be craven, take heart that if the rest of us fall, you will too, swallowing curses. And this problem will get worse unless we counteract it, and I suggest you get your people in line to do so."

He didn't really think that Kuntorus could truly build a coalition; it was not truly in his nature, and he was being so aggressive, combative. As for his own plans, Jerrel needed more information, current hostile information. He spun off a small fragment of his self, and built a small, balding man, with pale blue eyes and thinning hair, clad in woolens, but of a fine cut, and sent him to the old Capital, with a bit of rock and dust to make it look shiny, to sit in taverns and hear what the mortals were saying.

[VAE]

Divine realm

The feline god stopped washing himself abruptly. The words of Masota angered him... the main reason being that they seemed true.
*growl*
"One would have expected us, some of whom were around before the first human walked the earth, to be somewhat .... wiser... " He focused on Masuta's and Kuntorus's  form or a moment "Among the humans, there also exists another saying as Jerrel will surely confirm - "After a battle, everyone's a general"...
Indeed, the loudest accusations come from those who perhaps could have done the most... deities of hunt, luck... all could have done much to thwart the God-king's mortal armies and weaken him....  
Turning attention to Zaltan,
"Some among us insinuate that what came to pass was well within mortal knowledge.... "

His presence  became somewhat paler, the one who prowls the depths clearly becoming occupied by other matters and his form took on a curious expression

[VAE]

 
Mortal realm
On his island, the deity has set to work once more. Fungi begin to sprout from the dead matter all over the island, and it was due to his influence they had began growing into fleshy, edible forms instead of plain moulds - suppressing the undesirable variants had merely to do with altering soil properties around the spores but even that was somewhat taxing.
Finally...
******

Ivan, the priest of the village has been attempting to meditate and commune with the god who has protected their people since time immemorial.

Once again, he failed.

His focus was interrupted by Slavomir, one of the hunters.
"Why do you interrupt my prayer when i await a message from our Protector?" I
It felt almost like lying...  even in the times their god wouldn't respond, Ivan would at least feel his reassuring presence.
"That is it! I have seen a message! Come and let's call others too!"

Ivan walked out, and followed the hunter.
Several of his kind were there already.

A cat sat on the ground nearby, licking itself.  The only thing preventing the hunters from considering it one of the scarce sources of food was *what* it sat on.
On the ground lay an intricate image in black and white, "drawn" by layers of pale clay in the sooty soil.
On the top of it was a feline eye.
Below, a picture of a man eating a mushroom. It didn't escape Ivan's attention that a patch of similar looking mushrooms has sprouted  nearby.
Next picture showed a man bowing to a cat with a litter of kittens.
The last picture showed a mighty army in march, bearing the symbol above.
He noticed the cat walking to the patch of mushrooms, biting  one off, depositing it at his feet, and mewing at him.
Carefully, he smelled the mushroom, and bit off a piece.
It tasted surprisingly nice for a raw mushroom , and the cat below began to purr, rubbing at his legs.

He bent his knees and petted it absentmindedly, and suddenly images filled his head.
He saw the form of a huge lynx arise from the depths of earth itself, and speak to him
I am the one who prowls below. Through no fault of my own, your old god is no more, for a war among the gods has brewed. What you see is the image of a treason that shook the heavens itself.
Images of the ruins of dozens of continental cities, and the legions of the forge god turned traitor appeared to the villager.
Then, they switched back to the form he has seen before.
   Worship me , and the earth will reveal its riches to your people. Even in death you shall rejoin me in deserved rest as i rule over the realm of souls. One day, your descendants shall claim lands far bigger than is your own, as the usurper and those who follow him shall be made example from
The deity felt silent, then added in a much less impressive voice
Oh, and don't eat the cat, they are sacred!

Normal vision has returned to the man, the cat looking into his eyes with a deep stare.

[AmberCross]

Aellor turned his attention from the darkness. Tezkatl had heard him, or would hear him, and would respond in his own time. In the meanwhile there were other things to address and for a brief moment as he did so, he fractured.



To the ill-tempered Lodestone Lynx and the arrogant Lady Luck, the green beam of light splintered from the mist and through a series of reflections found its way over to them where it formed into a holding pattern and began to speak. "We have all been remiss in this matter it is true. All have different reasons, but all nonetheless were at fault. I myself saw this outcome among the myriad of possibilities the future could hold, but did not believe it could come to pass.



A white haired man with faded eyes the color of stormy skies. Behind his the mist dissipated and seemed to flow elsewhere while he addressed the gods of chance and hell. "The humans are... difficult to understand. So often they do what is not expected or that which makes no sense which while I find fascinating and is what I love most about them, means I often do not see what they do. And so it was that when the time came I was blind and did not see that which led us to our present state."



From absolutely nowhere in particular, a voice spoke to Masuta and Horiv. "Indeed, there was much many of us could have and can still do. I saw this outcome in the myriad of possibilities and did not act for reasons no longer known to myself. Perhaps there was no other outcome and perhaps this was simply the best, I can not fathom any more. With my power weakened, the possibilities are clouded to me now."



Elsewhere, a mist descended upon the Isle of Ael and began to weave the beffudlement upon it. Soon his realm would be hidden, kept away from any who might mean it harm...

[Chairtastic]

   Argondan, Mortal Realm
   The seeds of knowledge grow.  The people learn quickly, as if they had already learned before.  And in short order, a man comes to prominence.  Shalt, an otherwise simple man, has learned that if a beam of wood is pried under a stone with one end, then forced downward on the other, while a rock is placed between the two points for the beam to rest on, that great loads could be moved.  The lever has come to be, and Shalt becomes hailed as a prophet.

   Isle of Hunting, Mortal Realm
   The people gather the supplies, what little can be spared, and begin the task of gathering wood for a ship.  What they end up creating is little more than a very large canoe, large enough for the people and supplies, but open to the elements.  It is weighed down with rocks, perhaps too many, to keep the waves from battering it away.  Those that are slotted to remain beg you to reconsider your decision.  To not separate them from their loved ones, when these times of death and darkness roll on.  Your son, however, trusts you implicitly.

   Isle of Mish'na, Mortal Realm
   Your children report that their supplies of drinking water are healthy, but that their food stores dwindle.  The trees are no longer in season to bare fruit or nuts, and the fish are not coming to the nets of fishermen, but fleeing to the deep waters in the open ocean.  What passes for your priests ask if they could lessen the sacrifices due to you, perhaps until the sick are well again?  Speaking of them, your island is being subject to a strange sort of disease.  People eat, and yet they grow thin as if with hunger.  They ask you to explain this to them.

   Isle of Cats, Mortal Realm
   A statue of a vague representation of yourself is being carved from a log of wood.  In the meantime, word of your generosity is spread, and five family groups have joined with Ivan's village.  More are expected.  However, an elderly man partook of one of these mushrooms, and has since died for no apparent reason.  The people cry to you, asking why this has happened.

   Teleothial, Mortal Realm
   Your priests do as they are bidden.  But the results they report are most grave.  Food and supplies are being lain down for later, what can be stored long term anyway.  But their traditional source of salt, the sea, is growing weak, and slowly lowering itself to the point where wrecks of ancient ships are becoming exposed.  They ask where to obtain more salt, and what to do with these discoveries.  What is more, disease is striking your people, and they cannot spare many men to practice fighting.

   Isle of Luck, Mortal Realm
   Your promise has held true.  Many people have lived through the ordeal, and they have begun salvaging from the wrecks what they can.  Their supplies are lessened considerably, however.  The family of those who did not survive are stricken with grief, asking you for the reason they live while their kin did not.  The Captain keeps them united as best he could, but this unity is tenuous at best.

   Ael, Mortal Realm
   Fortune favours you.  Your flame has grown to warm the hearts of those that hear and listen.  Doubt persists in the areas not directly hit by this flame, but these people have something now that they did not before.  Hope.  And they tentatively reach out to you with that hope.  Your mists are woefully ineffective, for the sea which supports them dries up ever quicker.

   Divine Realm
   Your efforts are draining you all, but the payoff is felt.  Presently, the faith you have inspired is giving you a rush of power; a pale mockery of what you once commanded, but it is power.  Those of you who have difficulty manifesting will now have some better luck, and those of you who have recently expended energy to invest more in rebuilding, you are feeling a margin of return on that investment.
   Those of you who actively attempt to spread out, and learn who has died should be dismayed at the result.  Love is dead, as is Song, the Forests, Medicine, Festival, the Sun, and...there, you feel it now.  The Sea is dead.  Mountain still lives, if somewhere beyond your sight.  Sister War has engaged the King, but she is loosing the fight.  Time...you can't feel Time's omniscient presence anymore, but linear progression has not stopped.  Make of this what you will.  Hope is burning brighter than she ever has before.  Trying to save those of your kin who fled the King to the East.  Any more who live are beyond your ability to find them.

   Jerrel, you hear not joy or happiness at the victory the King has won.  People mourn those that have died, and pray for those yet to die.  But those that live are those that converted to the King's following for their own survival, or his zealots.  They try to drown out the world's breaking, with wine, and food, and pleasurable company.  But the King's army is not lax.  Your child will have difficulty weaving through the defenses; their god's paranoia infects them as well.  These contradictions, and the utter chaos are burning your fragment's ability to think clearly even more.

[Techcubi]

Kuntorus sighed, as he heard what Jerrel said. "You fool...I'm going to be trying to gather the followers who support the dead goddess of festivals. Without more followers, we won't have power enough to fight against the king..."

Kuntorus growled slightly, as Aellor seemed to be accusing him of not being able to stop the king. "My efforts were...More focused on warring against one of the more beastial deities. Who may or may not be dead right now."

Anyway, as he watched what was happening on his island, he snarled alittle bit. "So, they don't believe in my plans, huh? Well, I guess I better talk to my son, then..."

-------------

Luntarus! The demi male looked up. "Father?" The people don't believe. I believe a speech is in order. "But, father-" Don't worry. You won't have to think up most of the speech. Luntarus nodded. "Alright."

Soon after, all of the people were gathered along the island coast. Luntarus stood on a rock, looking down at them. "Father has said that some of you don't believe. That some of you think my father is making a mistake. Well...You're wrong."

"Look at the island around you! This is only one of the many islands around. A testament to the hunt. This where my father first became the great and mighty embodiment, of the hunt! Who among you believes in the hunt? Who among you thinks we must have greater prey? For, if we make my Father, AND ourselves stronger, we can hunt possibly the greatest prey of all...Those traitors who would allow such disasters to happen to this world!"

"The former King of the pantheon has let this happen to the world...He has allowed the world, to get dragged down into the dirt, and more! If you have faith in what my father is my doing, you will get to receive the greatest honor of all! To bring back the hunt to it's former glory!  The king shall die, the traitors shall die, but the hunt shall live! We do this for the hunt...And for the world! So, tell me! Do you wish to allow the hunt to exist in such a wretched state? Or...do you have faith in the hunt? For we are hunters! We are Predators! We. Exist. For the hunt! Who's with me!?"

[Inumo]

Ay, my children, how they must be starved! Communing with my most devout, I tell them, "Do not worry about sacrificing for me; so long as you do remember to be devout in all things, I shall survive." Peering inside of those who waste away, I search for life that is out of place. "And let it be known to those who are ailing, I am investigating. Soon, my people, you shall be comfortable. The work shall never cease, and your help may be necessary, but you shall not die." Moving my awareness to the realm of the divine, I moved out from under the pesky goddess of luck and asked, "Has the god of good health been found?" In the meantime, I began to build a reef close to the fishing hole, where those fish who still live after the death of the Sea might find refuge.

[Kafzeil]

Kumbha had never once set foot in this meeting room, this  Divine Forum. It was always father's business. However,this room would become most vital to him and his efforts now. He still couldn't believe what had transpired. Was his brethren truly this foolish?

The new God of the Sea kicked open the door, clutching his father's gilded harpoon in his right hand, the tip wet with fresh blood. "The Lord of the Seas is Dead." He proclaim, eyeing the others.

That imbecile Zaltan survives?! I would have figured his slumber would have doomed him.

Making his way to the table, Kumbha glanced at Kuntorus, then gave a long, hard glare at Horiv. His father had never seen eye to eye with the beast, due to their conflicting kingdoms. And besides, why would a God take such a hideous form?!

"I hear by claim my Father's Domain, his Titles, his temples and worshipers, and all that belonged to him as my own."

He leaned on the table, taking a mental note of Islands, pointing to a rather small rock, as if to claim it.

"...any objections to my Reign? I will only tolerate such insults now, so please, get it over with and off your chests. Preferably in my presence."

He then fell silent, as if awaiting the coming storm.

[Techcubi]

Kuntorus sighed as the newcomer entered the room. "Oh, joy...Pirani's spawn. Well, as long as you don't do anything with the sea that interferes with us gaining more power, I don't have any PARTICULAR problems. Also, that's the dead God of Song's island. The sea island is over here." Then, he pointed to another part of the map.

Then, looking at Kesh, he replied with, "The god of medicine, if that's who you mean, is dead. There might not be any good healers for a while...Unless, you want to try doing something to yourself that would cause another God of Medicine to come into existence. I've never actually had any children that way. Well, there was one, when I had a bad back, but, I'm not quite sure he's still alive."

[AmberCross]

"You insolent brat!" a voice rang out from a nearby alcove and a pair of glowing dark blue eyes stepped out of the shadow. "Just because your father never loved you doesn't mean you can be an ass to the rest of us and expect us to not care."

"You two-faced, traitorous PRICK!" exclaimed a fracture of cracks in a nearby wall. "You couldn't stop with killing your father, could you? You fancy yourself better than the rest of us? You think you can do a better job? Well news for you since apparently bright ideas don't reach you at the bottom of the ocean, but we cannot afford an amateur at the wheel."

"You coward! Hiding in your under sea palace while the rest of the world crumbles around you will not save you when the end comes. You have only bought yourself another year at most before the destroyer tracks you down. Your fate will be the same as the rest of us!"

"I'm just here because all my other possible future selves are here! I have no significant complaints and felt left out!"

"I have had it up to HERE with your terrible fashion sense! It's tacky, it clashes with itself, it's unoriginal, and you NEVER wear ANYTHING else!"

"Enough with the narcissism complex! You are SO full of yourself, I am not even kidding! Maybe if you'd get off your high horse every once in a while and stop wearing all that jewelry you'd be more bearable. You are such a DRAMA queen too! Not to mention other kinds of 'queen'... no straight man wears that many rings. Not that I mind, but just come out of the closet already!"

Countless other voices identifiable as versions of Aellor rang out blending in with each other like so many grumbles of thunder to the point where you could no longer make out any individual voices and the whole spectacle just sounded and started to look like a literal storm of complaints. After some time the voices died down as the complaint-bearers began to filter out and remaining eyes centered on the true Aellor. There was a moment of silence as if everyone was waiting for the currently ordinary looking white haired man to speak. He looked around at all the eyes staring at him and paused for a moment before saying, "No thanks... I'm good for now I think. Thanks for the rain check though." He gave a mildly lame looking thumbs up in Kumbha's direction and smiled.

[Tezkat]

Ariel brushed herself off, still shaken by the experience. By some miracle they'd been thrown free with nary a scratch. She gazed over at the splintered stump of the great tree and the empty crevasse where the bridge they'd been crossing once stood. The whole forest was dying, rotting from within just like the rest of the world.

"Auntie! Aunt Myrtle, are you alright?" She helped her aunt to her feet.

Her aunt rubbed a sore forehead. "Goodness, child. I'm getting too old for this sort of thing." Suddenly she gasped and became very pale.

Ariel turned. At first, she couldn't believe her eyes. "Papa? Papa! Is that really you?"

He held out his arms, and she ran to embrace him. "Oh, sweetheart." He hugged her tight, stroking her long golden hair. "I missed you so much."

She pulled back to look into those soft, kind brown eyes once more. "What... how is..."

"What sorcery is this?" Myrtle made a sign to ward him away. "We buried you and Bella two winters ago! And you return bearing the sign of false idols?" She directed an accusing finger to the silver crescent on his chest. "Begone foul spirit! The One True God will smite you for sure!"

Papa sighed. "Your One True God is a spoiled brat who'd rather rule a dead world alone than share a thriving one. He has no hold over us. Not anymore."

"Blasphemy!" Myrtle frowned and began wringing her hands. "If we go to temple now, there's still time to make penance..."

"Oh, Myrtle..." Papa shook his head. "You are far beyond the domain where his priests have any sway."

"Papa, what are you say--oh god... oh gods..." Ariel broke away and inched ever closer to the edge of the cliff, but she couldn't bring herself to look down, afraid of what she might see. "We're dead, aren't we?"

Her father gently nudged her away from the edge. "I'm sorry, Ariel. You were taken from the world far too young. But your mother will be so happy to see you again." He reached out his hand. "You too, Myrtle. She even misses your nagging."

Myrtle backed away. "No. No! This is wrong..."

"There's nothing left for you here, Myrtle. And I'll bet you haven't tasted Bella's moonberry pie in ages. Besides, the One Who Prowls the Depths keeps his domain much warmer and cozier than this cold, dying land."

"No more of your false gods! I must make penance! There's still time..." Aunt Myrtle turned and fled towards the village.

Ariel moved to follow her aunt, but Papa caught her arm. "If you don't come now, I cannot remain with you. My time here is short. Even now, the Betrayer hunts us."

Her eyes widened. "What will happen to her, Papa?"

"If she doesn't come to her senses? She'll become another lost soul, doomed to wander the land between life and death. There are too many now who reject the Soulbearer when their time comes, either from fear of their One True God or the foolish belief that he might yet save them. More still die so deep in his strongholds that even the Wayfinder cannot reach them."

"We can't leave her like this." In that instant, she knew that she'd made her decision, and it tore at her heart. "Papa, I can't come with you. If what you say is true, then I'm all she has left."

Her father smiled and hugged her close, tears in his eyes. "That's my girl. Here. Take this." He removed his crescent amulet and fastened it about her neck. "When you're ready, call my name." He kissed her on the cheek. "I'll tell your mama to keep a pie warm for you. Farewell, sweetheart."

As he faded away, she realized she was no longer looking into her father's face. She was looking into the face of a god.

+ + +

Itztli sat crosslegged under the sacred rock in the birthplace of the Night, where the god Tezkatl gave man the gift of Dreams. His ancestors had erected a great stone henge around the monolith, untouched throughout the generations. No weeds crept over these hallowed grounds. The trees bowed in reverence, flowers glistening in moonlit bloom. Shimmering foxfire wreathed the boundaries of the forest. Even the wind paid its respects to this holy place.

One by one, all the nahual of his tribe assembled. Coyotes, eagles, serpents, jaguars... they arrived wearing the flesh of the spirits, as was custom. Fur, feathers, scales, and fangs melted from their skin as each of them stepped between the stones, and they joined the circle as men.

"You have all received the dreams." It was not a question. None who had walked with spirits would ignore the Dreamlord's call.

"We must ready our boats and journey to the islands of the fallen gods. We will take our sacred seeds to them and return our lost brethren to the fold. It is written in the stars."

"But the sea has gone mad. Will the new Keeper of the Waves allow us passage?"

"We are the Children of the Night! We are warriors!" Itztli stood and drew his obsidian blade. "We will face whatever challenges cross our paths. We have lost our songs. We have lost our dance. Our lives are all we have left to offer our god!"

The circle erupted in a chorus of cheers and animalistic howls.

"The followers of the fallen will receive dreams of our coming. They will come to know us as brothers and sisters."

"But they have not walked with spirits. They may not even know how to read their dreams."

Itztli pointed his sword towards the heavens. Moon and stars danced across the blade.

"Then we will teach them."

+ + +

A bright blue sun whizzes by your heads and settles into orbit around the room. The sky-spanning jaguar is toying with miniature suns of various colours, batting them around as if they were balls of yarn.

"Blue. What do you think of blue? It's rather fetching, isn't it?" He pounces on the blue sun and rolls it around in his paws. "No, you're right. It needs to contrast more with the sky. Perhaps a little purple..."

The night panther yawns and stretches out. He curls up and sighs, using the flaming purple orb as a pillow.

"Would that I had spawned a new day star already if such power were within my grasp. My consort and son are gone forever. I cannot just remake them." He cocks his head, aware that this second piece of information may be news to some of you. "Yes, Time is shattered. He dispersed his power into the universe before falling to the Betrayer. I have spent many moons trying to collect the remains. Even now, my followers journey to the islands of Sun and Time to reclaim what is left of their earthly power."


It is rare to see new faces in this place. Most of you have always been here. When the newest member barges in, the Lord of Night and King of Dreams smiles a Cheshire cat smile.

"Welcome, young one. Your Father sends his regards. I delivered his soul to the Underworld this morning."

[techmaster-glitch]

Argondan, Mortal Plane

  With the discovery of the lever, it was dutifully recorded on a stone tablet. The tablet was then taken by the deepest thinkers of the tribe, and taken to the island's one and only Temple, which was also the first Library. Well, it was a Temple and Library in name. White the best structure on the island, it was still quite crude; being a large hut made of cut stone blocks, with some wooden shelves inside housing all the stone tablets with recorded information.
  But it was a symbol nontheless.
  More people among Argondan learned from the tablet that recorded the first lever, with the prophet Shalt leading the efforts. Some made it bigger, some made it smaller, some tried to combine two levers at once. Evenever someone had significant success, the brought their finding back to the Library-Temple, and recorded it for all to use. Meanwhile, the group of islanders attempting to recreate the leathery but solid substance they saw when they recieved visions of books and scrolls proceeced as they pulped different plants on the island, trying to find just the right formula.
  Elsewhere, Zaltan felt slightly less pain.

Diety Plane

  Zaltan still felt a sense of great weakness, being more cut off from his domain than any of the other gods, but he felt a smidgen of the weakness soothen. He continued to watch the other gods as they discussed what happened...and began to turn angry at each other.
  With calm indifference, Zaltan, in his form of a heavy-robed scholar, strode into the "center" of the congregation, as much as their could be a "center" to this demiplane of anything.
  With a soft, nonconfrontational voice, Zaltan simply said "Enough." His focus was on all of them and none of them, even as he addressed others specifically.
  "Everchanging, as you stayed taunting directed at me, I must ask you to stay your own tongue. Do not taunt the Keeper of the Waves. Masked Judge, Great Predator, Keeper of the Waves, we cannot squabble over petty details."
  Zaltan summons an 'image' of the world. Being an image by deities for deities, it contained everything that was happening in the entire world at once, from the largest storm to the smallest ant, all of which the gods were capable of percieving. "My kin, hear me. Let us begin with what we all know. The God-King has committed a terrible deed out of madness. With his great power, he single-handedly eliminated many of our number. No one of us can possibly hope to stand against him." In the representation of the world, images and symbols of the other gods appeared, which then fade away, one by one.
  "But he thinks he may perform all the tasks of the world himself, but despite his great power, this is not true. The world is broken. He may be greater than any of us, but he is not absolute." On the image of the world, darkness reigns. Once-great monuments crumble, natural forces spin out of control, and people flock to the God-King for some measure of comfort, a pittance compared to what they should have.
  "We cannot hope to stand against him along." Zaltan repeats. "And he did bring us all down...but it was in succession. One after another. When we were unprepared." Zaltan brings their archipelago into greater focus.
  "We are weak. We are fewer than we should be. But we are not yet gone." Over the archipelago, the influence of each othe remaining gods is shown, in unique colors only the gods can see, and ways only the gods can percieve. The colors are strong, and they show how each god affects whatthey touch, but...there's something missing about them. The influnce is then shown to grow, past their core islands, over the see, to other patronless islands, and continuing on until they begin meeting each other...but instead of a clash, each continues on. They mix. They mingle. They become one. Two gods bring their power together over two islands, feeding off one another and propelling each other to greater power. Every sphere grows until they all cover the archipelago, but now there's something different. There is rainbow of all the cosmic colors, yet in a way that it seems a single, solid color. There is a sense of unity. Of unshatterable strength.
  "The God-King brought us low because, even at our greatest heights, we were divided. There is only one way we can hope to right the wrongs he has done. We must set aside all our differences, and we must abandon the idea that mortals must choose one god above others. We must band together, strengthen each other. Our mortals must learn this as well. They must learn to bring all of us into their hearts. First, the mortals of our origin mys be properly tended, brought up to a level where they are strong and sure, rather than the scattered, powerless wretches they are now."
  In the representation of the world, the mass of the combined influence of all the gods then pushes forward from the archipelago, towards the mainland. Where the combined mass met darkness, the darkness fled like the broken lies it was, and a foothold was gained. "Then. Only then, will we all be ready to take on the God-King together."
  The representation vanishes.
  "But for now...we cannot affect each other. We cannot affect the areas under dominion of the God-King. We cannot even affect our own cores like we used to. For now...we must retreat. We have all suffered, and we must nurse our wounds. We must strengthen our own people. And...those of us who can, we must try to re-fill the niches once filled by kin murdered, find the remains of them, and combine contibuted portions of our essences to revive them, although in a new form. Then, we can see about our mortals expanding themselves to reach out to others. We can only hope to give them the wisdom of unit as well.
  "And the Fractal God did speak one truth. Our fate will be the same, no matter what. If we work together for prosperity and unite against the God-King, we will endure. If we do not do this...if we do not work together...if we do not stop hating each other...then our fate will still be the same.
  "We will all perish."
  Zaltan finally stepped back, finally done. the entire time, he spoke softy and matter-of-factly, not providing any hostility. He returns the majority of his focus to his own people, though of course a small fragment of himself is left behind to hear what the others do next.

 

[VAE]

Divine realm

The one who prowls the depths  viewed the "sea god" with as much contempt as a massive feline could muster.
When the last echo of Aellor's voices died out, the lynx god spoke.
"Many here have wondered why are the oceans unattended... apparently, the new Sea god has been busy looting shipwrecks for tacky jewelry...  Oh well, i should be glad that the new deity of the sea pays me such homage"
The feline shifted, gazing straight into the sea god's eyes.
"Tolerate... or what?  *growl* Will you threaten to ram that toothpick through us like you did to your father, or shall you try and pour the puddle  you rule over at our lands instead? You are nothing compared even to your father and any one of us here could rid the world of yet another traitor"
But for now, you are safe here for we don't shoot the messenger."
Suddenly he noticed the black jaguar god, playing with several luminous spheres. The feline grew rather agitated, crouched as if preparing to leap, and began to make clicking noises at the miniature suns.
Why do the sky deities always get the best toys, anyways?
As Tezkatl spoke on, it became clear that Horiv's followers shall live on mushrooms for quite a long time on - he apparently isn't able to put a new sun together just yet. As the feline god pondered the implications something even more unpleasant reached the ears of the Watcher of Souls... *HISS*
"What? You delivered him this morning to... He left a spirit and.... to the underworld"
Once again the earth deity looked at Kumbha, this time with a hateful expression.

[Dr. Hatari]

The faint sounds of insects began to intrude into the divine hall, along with a rhythmic series of sharp clacks. Cicada cries and the drone of wasps filled the air as Gys' avatar lumbers through the threshold, hoisted aloft on giant arachnid legs piercing through his cloak. The bestial deity pauses briefly to pivot his hood towards Kuntorus. For a moment, snake rattles are added to the cacophony – but the monster's distraction is fleeting. He approaches the divining pool at the room's center and speaks with a raspy whisper,

"..Stolen.. and abused. Now, when they are needed.. most. Short-sighted.. murderers..! Our sister's forests lay dying, and my songbirds.. have fallen silent. Not even the light of dawn remains.." The soud of creaking wood, like the bow of a great tree bending, escapes his hood. He seems crestfallen for a time before remembering himself, and slowly looks around the room. When his attention falls on Kumbha, his form turns and approaches. Gys looms near the new sea deity for a moment before grumbling.

"Boy," he hisses derisively, "do you think that all it takes to be a God and fill your father's throne is a holy weapon and a bad attitude? ... Hrrrmmmmm ..." He sizes the young god up for a moment before continuing. "..For your father's realm, I once made a great Leviathan, that even the most arrogant and skilled of the world's mariners might fear his ire. You presume to take his place – so prove it. Tame the beast, and bring it to bare against your enemies. Perhaps that will prove your right to godhood in your people's eyes. And ours." Eventually, Gys relents to stare into the divining pool.

[Inumo]

"Such uproar over such a fragile man!" I observed the soul of the Lord of the Deep for a time. "He has the potential to be a decent god, although his methodology will be atrocious, if his rise to power is any indication. Were Time about, we could get a truer answer. Ah, but life!" The news of the death of Medicine was sorrowful, but could not be helped. With a sigh, I continued, "Brethren, for now, I shall take my leave. I must take some time and decide upon what I shall proceed with next. Control of devotion is not one to hold much sway over the physical realm." And with that, I regathered myself and thought.

[Techcubi]

Kuntorus frowned at Zaltan. "Mortals can often not follow more than one master...Nor can mortals often follow multiple callings. Hunters are not often beings that seek after various kinds of knowledge, nor do Scholars often try to learn the way of the hunt. Perhaps there might be a day when this might change...But, for now, we should focus on finding other ways to make ourselves stronger."

Just then, insect sounds came into the room. Kuntorus groaned. "Please tell me that's not-" Then, he heard the sound of Gys' voice. "Gys...I hoped to not hear or see you again until I had more followers........Or at all. Then again, you DO provide some of the greatest challenges one could possibly hope to hunt."

[Corgatha Taldorthar]

The Mainland

Jerrel made his outrider wander into a deserted alley, and then dissolved the thing into mist. He was sure that sooner or later the King would be able to notice it, and he didn't want his spy eliminated, it would hardly be fatal, but Jerrel knew he needed to hoard all of his power for the days to come. Furthermore, it lent him a little bit more power, more awareness in the meeting room, and more divinities were arriving, although too few, too few.

Kumbha especially was troubling. Jerrel had thought he had little personally to fear unless the world itself died. Even the authority the King wielded over his followers nourished him somewhat, though it was bitter fare. But Kumbha..... If Gods could be supplanted, order would always exist, but the thought of another usurping his Domain was...... troubling. That one would bear watching, though they needed a Sea-God too much.

The Temple
Structured thought was becoming easier, even if the problems weren't. His realm was of men, not the forces of nature; but he could not be seen to lack an answer. He stretched his memory back to old disputes, to see if there was anything  that could help. A few tidbits were all that surfaced, and he bade his clergy to instruct the people to gather seawater in clay vessels and to boil away the contents. All fresh water was to be boiled as well before being drunk, it would ameliorate the plague somewhat.

The Divine Meeting-Room
It was good to see others join. Gys, especially, would be helpful in the current straits. Something to impact the hardiness of the surviving people..... Perhaps there was a way to pool power, Zaltan would be the best for delving into such a matter.


Jerrel smiled ruefully at    Kesh'Noria. "Were time about, he could employ that temporal fugue trick of his, slay the King before this got out of hand, and patch up the consequences. Sadly, we mus make do with what we have."

Jerrel stood, facing the others, encompassing all of them in the sweep of his visage. "Hail and well met, Kumbha. It is good to see that at least some remnant of old Keeper of the Waves. These are extraordinary times, and we must make of them what we can."

"And furthermore," he continued, now addressing all assembled, "Old Zoltan has a point; we are inextricably bound to the state of the world, and will likely all live or die together. It will likely not be easy, or pleasant, and I for one admit there will always number among you ones I detest, but we must be able to at least work together. We must strategize, plan for the future."

"As I see it, our first and foremost goal is continuing our own survival. This, in turn, means that we must all have a stable base of worshipers to keep us sustained. Medicine is missing, and unless we can stop the plagues, the followers of the world will be too scattered and few to sustain any following. More troublesome, is that old Sun seems to be dead. I think we all realize that without him, our world will freeze, and there shall be nothing but barren ice from horizon to horizon until the end of days. If we cannot restore him, we must find some other way to warm the bones of the earth.  While it is true that we cannot probably share mortals, we should preserve the ones that remain, and try to lure followers back on the mainland. If we restrict our influence to these islands, I worry that we will not have the might to stand against the coming darkness.

We must also protect ourselves from outside threats. I speak of, of course, the King. He is too mighty to confront directly as it is, but the lands he usurped are vast, and he cannot possibly guard it all himself. I thus propose we split into two groups, one to fix the ailing of the world, and the other to forestall direct strikes from the King as best we can. We should all put forth what we are best equipped to do in pursuit of that common good, utilizing our own diverse talents. To minimize conflicts, we should try to avoid joint projects, we are all mighty, all proud, and not keen to submit to anything other than the totality of the Pantheon.


I will go first. My abilities lie in the realm of perception and influence; many are tied inextricably into the behavior of men. I cannot stop the plagues, I cannot revive the sun. However, my mortals are relatively numerous and very well organized, if there is any task that needs human hands to accomplish, I can set my followers on it; they will toil with dedication, if not necessarily immediate skill. For my own efforts, they would probably be best employed on the offense. The King must have followers, indeed probably several layers of followers, I can make them more loyal to each other and less recognizing of his own authority, make him deal with an uprising from below. It would be just, I think, if he was overthrown in turn, though I do not place my hopes there. And whatever voices are crying blasphemy, that it was wrong to turn away from the Gods of their fathers, I will strengthen them."

Jerrel paused, noting that for the first time he could remember, his voice was hoarse. Damn weakening effects. He gave a brief wave. "Those are my plans, how will the rest of you be handling the crisis?"

[SquirrelWizard]

Mortal Realm

"They despair," Capasian spoke to the shadow beside him, "they question why they were saved over the others; families have been divided, some even shattered till only one member remains. What do I tell them? What was your reasoning?"

The shadow seemed to grow darker, "I did not choose who amongst you should die, I merely gave your people the chance to survive. My methods are my own, do not seek to understand them, much less explain them. But, let it be known, I am not a cruel god. It is not by my power that I feed you, provide shelter for you, or protect you. Instead, for those who look for food, I provide sustenance, for those who build homes, I provide shelter, and for those who look to themselves for protection, I armor against the ravages of this world. By providing this edge, I can ensure that your luck shall be good. But, remember, for all the good luck I can provide, nothing is guaranteed." the shadow seemed to shift, "Tell them that their family members that died did not die because they had blasphemed or angered me in any way. That their deaths were an unfortunate price paid to the god of the sea to ensure the survival of the rest."

Capasian hung his head low, "This I shall do, but they are angry, hurt, and afraid. While we have food and water to survive the elements, we may very well not survive each other."

Masota nodded, "Very well, search amongst your people for seven souls who can move men with words, and themselves dedicate to their fellows. I do not care their age, race, or gender. Gather them up, and head north into the jungle taking supplies with them for a weeks journey. Walk for three days until you reach a spring; as long as you remain together you will not fall prey to false direction or beast. But, only these eight, no others. For the others, you should leave a trusted person to stay behind, and find something constructive to do for them. I will let you use your imagination with this. All will be explained further at the spring."

Divine Boredroom.

Masota yawned as she listened to the petty squabbles between the deities between themselves. They would need to work together to topple the God King, though she doubted it would be as cut and dry. She flicked the apple core behind her, it disappeared without a trace. And she got to work.

"Now, children, we must play nice." she chided them, "It is obvious that none of you have put much thought to plans for the future, the immediate future. We all may want to bring down the King, but that is neither here or now. We are scattered on the winds and, if you cannot even bear proof of your recovery in influence and power, I see very little reason to even discuss cooperating. Perhaps we should focus on our own lands, our own people, and tend to the world as we can for the time being."

[e_voyager]

Mortal Realm:
Volare looked at the island of the mortals who prayed to him. He have given them  dreams of a better life and planted visions for better larger boats in the minds of there ship builders on the outer villagers on the inner part of the islander he had shone home makers how to better use the fallen trees of their forest. They were making progress but there was much more to be done. He wanted to teach them farming but he only knew the basics. There had to be a deity here that did this already. Finding his head clergy sitting in his favorite rock near the just out into ocean in piousness.  Diving into the water Volare surfaces beside him in the form in which they had met during his adult test. "greetings young one. I would have words with you" he said giving the gray haired elder a vision the conversation was brief and the young ones  major concern was summed up in the question. " what more do you want of us of lord?" the answer was like was simple. " I want the people to grow and prosper. To go out into the world and see it not only for what it is but for what it could be."  Volare took his leave have intent on finding help so that his people and the world they live in would grow and prosper.

The relms of the gods.

Volare appeared in this worlds gods plane. He has avoided it for a long time but now it is necessary. The ones he seeks are near and he must be willing to deal with them he walks to and beyond the edge of there perceptions until he stood among them neither humble nor arrogant. "Greetings. I seek and understanding as to what has happened here and insight as to how we may go about fixing this poor shattered world." His perception narrows searching through the assembled deity's to finds the ones he needs. Farming and Metal working are among the top on his list followed by medicine and literature. He can sense much from they. They are working hard harder then he has been for this island. This world is their home and he can respect. There were born here and they would likely die here but is not his concern. His concern is a little island on this world where he can even now hear prayers for guidance issuing forth. This madness has to end