Abacadaren

Godhood V.X Turn 6

Welcome to Turn 6

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Those Upon the Western Coast
Another splinter of Humanity departed Sutarimas and traveled west. They were guided by the coast, for they knew of the Abomination that lurked in the inland swamp and had no desire to meet it... or the barbaric Prey-Takers who dwell within the marsh. They continued until their path was blocked by a wide river that none cared to cross. They felt they were far enough from other men to be safe from those that might wish them ill, and (perhaps more importantly) they believed themselves to be outside the Abomination's wandering range.
Thus, the people began to erect tents and huts upon the land that stayed dry. They began to explore the area, learning where they could forage for food and hunt for game. They began to take steps towards settling into the way of life that they had known in Sutarimas... but a very familiar face showed himself again. Ser Alexander Reginald King arrived among them in his wanderings. He was welcomed, as none among the people were foolish enough to turn a traveling god away.
Ser King remained with them for several weeks, helping the people build their homes. His might was beyond even what the stories had told, for Ser King had learned as he had taught Rysos. He too could use the Arts of Might... and the Arts magnified his superhuman strength beyond what it ought to be. The people watched as he wrestled trees free from the ground, and used his enchanted blade to slice them into slices that were easier to build with.
At night, around the fires, he told the people the things that they would need to know if they were to settle alongside the river. He taught them that the River would flood from time to time. Sometimes it would simply rise and swallow up what was built along it, and sometimes it would come crashing down like an ocean wave... sweeping away all that was built along its banks. They would need to be clever if they were to build along the river... and they would need to learn much more than Ser King could teach them in the time he had to spend with them.
Instead of gifting them with secrets of construction... Ser King instructed the men in how they could feed themselves more easily. The ocean was, Ser King said, filled with many animals that were good as food. However, he warned, no hunter could catch that particular prey. For mortal men were meant to walk upon land, and the fish were meant to swim through the sea. Between a Fish's speed and a man's fear of drowning... simple hunting would be foolish. They would need to be clever if they were to capture the fish, and reap the sea's bounty.
Thus... Ser King taught the people a few simple techniques. The first was rather obvious: The hunters could stand still in the water with their spears until a fish grew curious enough to approach, and then stab down to capture the fish. It took some work to learn how water tricked the eye, but it allowed these crude fishermen to win food without much work. Still... there were better ways.
Ser King taught the people of simple boats, much like those that had brought the Magi to their shores from their distant homeland. With these boats, the people could row out into the water and seek out greater prey. Yet... that Prey would be difficult to capture. Spear-Fishing was effective if a fish swam by... but fish would not often approach a boat in deep water.
Thus, Ser King taught them a cunning trap that would ensnare fish without them knowing of its approach: The Net. They could trail a net behind a boat as it traveled, or have two boats drag it between them, and ensnare fish without their even knowing they were in danger. The nets could then be hauled up and tied off to bring the fish home.
Of course... there was one last gift that Ser King brought the people. He taught them to weave baskets that fish could enter, but that they could not leave. By leaving a bit of meat, off-cuttings unfit for mortal consumption, within the basket... they could lure fish within the trap and then simply pick it up at a later day. All they would need to do is walk the trap-line, and see what had been caught.
At last, he taught the people how to smoke their fish... preserving it against decay and disease.
After he had been with them for six weeks... the people awakened to see that Ser King had left in the night. They found his tracks leading up into the North, where the Centaurs roamed.
[-2 Acts for some improvements to boats. They will become important shortly.]
[-3 Acts for some fishing tech.]
The Iralia Coast
The People soon gave their new land a name, Iralia.
The Iralians took what Ser King had taught them and began to put it to use. They moved back, away from the floodwaters and the beaches, but remained within easy walking distance. High ground was precious to them, for height gave safety from the cataclysms that had been promised by Ser King. They built their homes from wood, for they were growing quite the talent for shaping it. They used clay and dirt as insulation, piled upon a wooden framework, so that their homes would remain comfortable as the course of years would turn.
The Iralians embraced the Arts of Might, having seen their benefits in the form of Ser King's aid in settling the land... although most did not practice them. The appetite of one who practiced the Arts was the stuff of legend... and the community could not afford to sustain more than a handful of the Mighty.
Their greatest advantage was shipbuilding. The people took what Ser King had taught them... and they began to iterate upon it. They experimented with many styles of boat... and then stumbled onto an interesting advance. As with many great ideas... it began with alcohol.
A drunken fool and his compatriots decided that they would have a go at building a house upon the water, since the River would not be able to destroy something that was already floating upon it. It would only be washed away, and could then be sailed back. Thus... they stole a framework meant to be used in the wall of a house as well as two canoes. They affixed the wall to the canoes with ropes, and then set the platform to sea. The drunken man jumped upon the platform as it set off from the shore, and began to dance a merry jig and sing loudly (and out of key). Such was his revelry that he awakened many people who came to look at what had happened. Although many were upset at being awakened... much was forgiven as they saw what the drunken men had done.
Thus, it was a band of those blessed by Silenus who stumbled upon the secrets of the Pontoon boat. They could be larger than traditional canoes without using too much more lumber, and they were almost shockingly stable once at sea. Now that they knew what could be created, the people began working on improving these ships... with the first real breakthrough being the use of Animal Hides to create a crude water-seal to avoid the canoes filling with water and sinking the vessel. With these ships, fishermen could carry water with them out to sea and spend longer filling their nets... and could even store filled nets upon the ship with them.
In time, it became clear to the Iralians that their boats offered another advantage... they could travel. It was far faster to move along the coast upon a boat than it was to move by land, and a boat could carry more as well. Thus, it came to pass that a handful of them sailed back to Sutarimas with a cargo of smoked fish for trade.
[I refer you to the Polynesian Wayfinders if anyone has an issue with Pontoon Boats popping up with this tech level. They're surprisingly low-tech. Granted, these folks are going to need some serious understanding of the stars if they want to navigate on open sea.]
[The Society now exists, and it's late, so I'll do more on them tomorrow.]
At the age of seventy-seven Thunar was one of if not the oldest mastonian alive. His children and grandchildren all had taken prominent roles in the tribe as he aged.
Thunar as chief knew he must die in ritual battle but before the fateful day he wanted to be of use to his tribe one last time.
After Speaking with Freyja thunar decided his people would be gifted with the knowable of mining... even if he himself didn’t quite understand it. With Freyja help after a year of trying he discover how to mine.
With that Thunar made the decision to ask his grandson to challenge him to ritual battle.
The battle went much like the battle against his own grandfather... causing Thunar to finally understood Ziu and his last request.
Thunar with his head down and horn pointed forward charged his grandson wuotan who grab hold of his grandfather. Thunar just like Ziu drew his bone knife causing his grandson to stab him. Calming the chiefdom for himself.
Ezekiel opened his one good eye he smiled as the mastonians of the ziuson tribe embraced his mortal grandson as chief
Freyja was happily waiting for her father. “ well it took you long enough to die, kepi and I have missed you.” Freyja said with a smile
Ezekiel grinned “you interfered to much with my mortal life didn’t I tell you to leave my mortal-self alone.” Ezekiel teased his daughter
Freyja face went cold “no you didn’t father. Can I teach them how to use the tin and copper to make bronze... so they can create better weapons.... oh and maybe it’s about time the war god causes some war.” She said with a smirk
Freyja went to the ziuson tribe, where she began teaching them how to shape some of the ore that Thunar mining has given them (-4 for simple metallurgy)
It took the mastonians tribe awhile to prefect the technology but soon they had weapons and other things of bronze. Which the soon began offer to teach the humans of Sutarimas and the centaurs they our friendly with how to make
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Shortly after Ezekiel awakening form his Incarnate he began hearing the voice in his head again.
“Oh my Brother... oh my, did you Incarnate to get away from my voice. If so how weak of you... nothing like our father told me you would be like.” The voice in his head said with a cocky and arrogant tone
Ezekiel stayed clam this time when speaking to the voice “ if you truly are my brother. Tell me your name and where are your from.” Ezekiel asked
The voice laughed “I am from taiyochusin, I told you this already... as for my name ask aleks about the children of the shadow and Venmaric . You will find you have a lot more siblings then you believe, but we will be meeting soon.” The voice said laughing then disappear from his head yet again
The voice tell Zeke this caused him to search out aleks he had questions about his home world to ask but more importantly how the hell the shadow and Venmaric’s children where
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"You are late!" Kepi yelled as she tackled the armoured god with all of her might, barely bumping him. She pushed for a moment even so, wings flapping and arms tight around his chest, "That was like hunners and hunners without you! Freyja kept lying and keeping you alive for longer and longer!"
Gradually she tired and curled up against his breastplate, whispering softly, "I missed you, even if the others didn't Dad. No one was watching... it felt lonely again."
Gunhilda made her way through the Hall of the Honored Dead, in search of its Queen. A steady influx of souls made their way into the realm, Freyja and the Magister of Death doing their best to corral and guide the Dead to their destination, and instruct them on the nature of their new home. Gunhilda recognized some of the entering souls, having trained and fought with them. It was... kind of sad to see them here.
Gunhilda didn't let it slow her down long, though, eventually reaching the part of the large castle-like structure in the plane where the Administrative Wing was housed, as well as the living quarters of a certain Demigoddess. Gunhilda eventually found the personal office of said Demigoddess, and entered, without so much as a knock.
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Fiona's Office was remarkably cluttered with papers... which were also meticulously organized. Most were tied together into larger reams, two to four inches thick, which weighed enough to cause serious injury if dropped upon someone from any significant height. There also seemed to be colored ribbons wrapped around most of these collections, but their purpose wasn't quite clear.
Gunhilda couldn't see Fiona in her office. A wall of document packets rose three feet up from the top of Fiona's desk, obscuring her presence. Yet Gunhilda could easily hear Fiona's quill working for a few seconds after she entered, and then come to a stop.
Fiona stood up, and smiled slightly as she saw Gunhilda standing in her doorway.
"Ah," Fiona said, "Gunhilda. It's good to see you... er... is there a problem with the dead?"
It was a general rule amongst most adults and parents that they watched their own child more than other children, and so it took some time for people to notice the additional white haired child who came to play with the next generation. Kepi herself wasn't entirely sure how it worked, but the children played with her and listened to her, sometimes amid the ring mountains, sometimes on the western coast, sometimes in the magelands and sometimes elsewhere. She rarely saw the same children twice and had to explain the rules again and again, but it was still the most fun she had had in forever.
Children were fast studies anyway. They could see the pattern of drawing crosses and circles in the mud and nothing spurred them on like being told they had lost, and someone had to keep track of how many times who had won. They were fascinated to see the tumble of a little wooden square covered in dots on each side, and bewildered at how their playmate could have it land on one dot fifty times in a row. And they were exhilarated when they heard the name mentioned, and put together the strange child with Lady Luck herself.
Then the time was over and it was Kepi, Misha and the Fool again, but the children didn't forget. Numbers learned counting losses and victories and hide and seek were turned towards more adult pursuits as they grew, counting fields and trees and offerings. Her games were passed onto the children younger than them, and then onto their children as they grew, while many of the less energetic games, with dice or tokens, were adopted at night and in the evenings by the sober and drunk alike.
Still, they warned their children, to avoid a one horned child if they saw her, for she boasted of making diseases, curses and the bugs that curdled within ones body, as well as luck, numbers and games. Which was fair enough, Kepi supposed.
[-2 Contact Mortals, -1 for Simple Mathematics and -1 for Simple Games. Hide and seek, knots and crosses, liars dice etc. And yes, Kepi is trying to claim credit to Aleks' bugs.]
[Did I just gain 6 acts this turn? I was at 1(+3) act last turn and now I am at 10?
[Woops. I think I gave you your acts twice sorry.]
The people of Tar Valdri was awoken by a huge horrid scream.
Soon, the last one died, and the abomination feasted on the bodies of the dead.
When the abomination reached the city's edge however, it did nothing, it smelled around a bit, how, no one knows, as it had no visible nose. It grazed around, searching.
Then, it left.
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Ser Alexander Reginald King's path saw him return to Tar Valdri not long after the Abomination attacked. When he returned to Tar Valdri, the people told Ser Alexander of what had happened. The news disturbed him.
He'd known of the Abomination for about a decade, although he had disregarded news of the creature as being mere fanciful tales for most of that time. He knew well that Mortals would invent Monsters out at the edge of the map, so to speak, and thought that the creature was just some story a clever mother had thought up to keep her children from wandering too close to the Prey Takers. But the stories hadn't faded... and he'd finally managed to find the remains of one of the attacks.
Once Ser King had come to believe that the creature existed, he'd turned his attention towards studying what was known of it. After all, he needed to know about the creature before he could deal with it. Survivors of its rampages were few and far between... but there was enough for him to put together the shape of the equation. He just needed to lock down the last few variables, and then he could present a solution to the problem.
Still... he had a general idea of what was needed. Thus... he presented his orders to Tal Valdri's Elder. Ser King instructed the Elder to gather a few things he'd need to kill the beast, while he went off to gather the rest on his own. The things he asked for were... a bit strange.
He asked the Elder to gather the Oils that were left over when his people made Tallow Candles, Tanned Hides coated in Beeswax, as much Rice-Wine as could be procured, a great number of shovels, lengths of linen, and a goodly number of bows. He departed without explaining his plan in depth, stating that he didn't want the mortals to try and execute it without him and get themselves killed.
Several weeks later, Ser King pulled himself up onto the clifftop. It'd taken him far longer than he had expected to track down a healthy specimen, and he was growing rather annoyed at the delays. Still... at least this would make the rest of it relatively simple. He could already hear is quarry growling... sensing the presence of an invader in its lair.
Ser King walked in... and came face to face with an adult red dragon. The Creature looked down upon Ser King with the fury of an apex-predator that has found a lesser predator trying to snatch its eggs. Ser King looked up at it with the unamused look of a God that just got bitten by an ant. The Dragon opened its mouth and bellowed forth flame... right into the spot where Ser King used to be standing.
Ser King brought his hands down upon the Dragon's maw... and held it shut. The Dragon ceased to bellow flame and tried to open its maw once again... but found Ser King too strong. Indeed, the Dragon would have found most Mortals too strong to resist... for Ser King had used the muscles of a crocodile as a model when he'd designed the creatures. The Dragon reared back its head, and began to thrash in an attempt to throw off Ser King... who simply wrapped his legs around the creature's neck to keep from being bucked off. He slipped a leather band around the creature's maw, and tightened it... robbing it of its fire and its bite.
Ser King rode the bucking dragon for a few moments more... and then allowed himself to be thrown when he wanted. He rolled on impact and came up to his feet. The Dragon looked at him and snarled through its muzzle, fighting in vain to rip open the cord.
Realizing that it could not simply breathe fire or rip the intruder's head off... the Dragon chose instead to charge and tried to gore Ser King. Ser King braced himself, and charged the Dragon in return. He slid at the last moment, sliding under the dragon and between its legs... and then grabbed onto the creature's tail. The Dragon skidded to a stop... and Ser King leveraged his momentum to flip up onto its back. He grabbed onto the Dragon's neck... and braced himself for what would come next.
The Dragon, realizing that its prey was riding on its back, immediately began to try and throw Ser King off. It began to jump and thrash, trying to send him to the floor. Fortunately, the potential risk to its wings prevented the dragon from simply rolling over onto its back and crushing Ser King. The Dragon persisted for a good five minutes in its struggles... and then slowly began to calm down.
"Got it out of your system," Ser King said, "little Wyrm? Good. I'm going to need to teach you how to follow orders in the sky... and we don't have long to do it."
Ser King and his newest mount, the Dragon he'd named Balor, landed just outside of the Centaur's Holy Place. A few of the Centaur Tribesmen soon cantered out, along with their Human Bondmates, because one does not simply allow a dragon to land in such proximity to one's children and livestock. While they had come with bows and spears to have a go at felling the dragon... their plans changed quickly as they noted that somebody was riding the damned thing.
It took all of two seconds for the Tribesmen to conclude that it must be Ser King. Few people were mad enough to even try and ride a dragon... and absolutely nobody but Ser King was mad enough to succeed. As the Centaurs rather liked Ser King for remaking them in such mighty forms, they welcomed him to their Holy Place and asked after his business.
Ser King spoke with them about the Abomination that was ravaging the south of the Continent, and his intentions to deal with it. Many Centaurs, and their Bondmates, volunteered to join him in the glory of this quest before he had even asked for volunteers. Ser King politely asked them to calm down and listen. He told them that Might was not the solution to this problem, for the Abomination's very Blood was a poison too vile to risk unleashing. It would have to be brought down by cunning... and he already had a plan for that.
Thus, he asked the Clans to find the fastest centaur whose Bondmate was the finest archer. After three days of racing and archery contests, a Centaur Woman named Frimga and her Human Bondmate Illia stepped forward as the best option. Ser King asked them to travel with him, back to the South, so that he might teach them what they needed to know as they travelled. There was not much time in which to teach them... but they would learn enough of the Arts of Might to fulfill their role in the plan.
[More to come]
The Ring Valley
Within the great circle of mountains that Kepi had brought them to, the survivors of the Abominations early raids began to scatter. They were not destined to live together, and mortals were eager to claim their own lands in Kepi's Gift as they called it.
The Aracantus named their tribe the FogWalkers as they began to live in and explore the rainy jungle in the east of the valley, recognising many of Kuracanto's plants amid the great trees there, and building their homes high out of reach of the ground.
The Humans found ruins near the river delta in the centre of the valley and settled their tribes there, naming themselves the RingMakers and often drawing great circular patterns in honour of Kepi for moving them.
Few centaurs had been moved, but those that did lived towards the northwest, near the Azimut Menhir they discovered, and named themselves the Caged, feeling separated from their kin and without the space to roam.
Misha himself was the only Apokryphe, but settled largely with the human folk, proclaiming Kepi's various messages along the way. She warned that the Valkyrie Freyja only came to collect souls to consume them, Fiona came for good folk, and Gunhilda came for battles. It was also an aspect of their beliefs that determined the Chief of a tribe each year should be determined by drawing lots, allowing Lady Luck herself to judge who would best serve the tribe in the coming days, a trait also adopted by the Centaurs and Aracantus.
Besides Kepi, the patron gods of the tribes also tended to hold sway- Aleksandras, Ser King and Kuracanto.
Goat Herding to new pasture
Alirien was old, and she would often cry or rage for no reason at all.
There was the very fanatic Promised, who wanted to stay and bring the promised land to the current land.
After some internal schism following the death of Alirien the Mad, the Promised split up.
At a river they formed Sekra
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The Fool seemed surprised by the sudden embrace, but after a moment, returned it, wrapping its arms gently around Kepi, as it spoke softly, its body gently disintegrating into violet mist that wrapped around and seeped into Kepi's body.
"Don't worry. I'll never leave you. I'll be at your side, always..."
The Fool fully discorporated, fusing with Kepi completely. Kepi could feel the latent power infused within her, as well as a foreign but familiar presence, accompanied by that same androgynous, ethereal voice.
I'm still here, Kepi. Congratulations! You are now the Fool, and I mean that in the best possible way. My powers are now yours. Some of them a bit redundant because of your Godhood, but at least a few I'm sure you'll find useful!
The child paused and flexed her wings, stretching out one hand to examine the violet energy that flowed down it. With a gesture, the energy shifted and solidified into a short dagger that she twirled over her fingers, before it disbanded and came back into a rapier suited for her hand.
"Aaah, that's perfect! That's what Daddy can do too!" She grinned and stabbed at an imaginary opponent, jabbing furiously before twirling it to slide through her belt smoothly. With another bit of focus, violet energy wreathed her and then seperated once more, becoming a translucent image of the Fool before sweeping back into her with a kind nod.
Pride and excitement surged through her at the new power, suddenly lighting the world up in vibrant colours and auras before her eyes. The metaphysics and tangled spirits of the realm revealed themselves for an instant, as did the burning ruby cords of her own spheres. Gold and ruby, she could feel the power of Luck within as it had ever been, and the new spirit too.
With a final, more pensive nod, her wings gleamed violet with energy and she curled them in upon herself, vanishing in a flash of purple feathers to appear elsewhere in another plane.
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The unfortunate hunter struck by the rock yelped and tumbled backwards, while Gunhilda didn't even flinch. The other hunters readied their weapons, but Gunhilda seemed calm, though gripped onto her weapons a little tighter.
"Now, hold on there, lady. We don't mean you harm, but if you continue to injure or risk the life and limb of my hunters, there will be a problem. So, please, calm down, and we can talk this out. Now, my name is Gunhilda. What about you?..."
She smiled warmly, and sat down on the ground, crossing he legs, as though sitting around the campfire for a story.
Again her skin glowed green and her tattoos a blinding white. A pair of wings briefly burst into existence before once again flickering out.
She growled in frustration and threw her stick away, just barely missing another of Gunhilda's hunters. After a few calming breaths, she turned to her wolf pelts and quickly wrapped herself in them.
"Ky. My name is Ky."
Divide in the Hunt
A change started in the Prey Takers tribe.
Some Prey Takers view the concept of going from hunter-gatherer society to a agricultural one to be a weakness and a attack on their core belief.
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Sutarimas responded accordingly to the attacks, though it was a slow process. Being trained by none other than Gunhilda, the Hunters of Sutarimas were top tier, but they were experienced with hunting animals, not people. The Mastonians of the Ziuson clan were, however, more familiar with battling one's kinsmen, so they taught the hunters what they knew. Not to mention, Gunhilda herself was there to defend the city itself.
The Death Shamans were helpful to the Sutarimas Hunters, raising the dead to defend Sutariman land, or aid the Hunters. However, Sutarimas was in for a nasty surprise: the Prey Takers were beginning to gain Death Shamans of their own. Particularly common in those with Flesh Mimics, Prey Takers began to gain control over Death itself. It was also discovered that Necromancy could effect Parasites, but to the chagrin of Sutarimas.
With the ability to empower and transform their Parasites, the Prey Takers became an even more terrifying force...
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[Centaurs are living (mostly) on the northern side of the continent. The Swamp is on the south side.]