"I wish to speak of you of the lights of the Oreads that you have snuffed out so soon. I am not here to debate your decisions. And indeed, I find much to admire in your Narzion. But the souls of the Oreads will arrive in my realm soon. As it stands, many of them are bound for the Pit. While that is just according to my own laws do not feel that is necessarily fair. I offer a gift to you. When the Oreads come before me, I will offer them a second chance. If they accept, they will be reborn among the Narzion, and have an opportunity to shed the taint they brought upon themselves. If they refuse, then they shall be judged as the law requires. In this way, the Oreads will gain a chance at redemption, and perhaps salve some of the pain you surely feel at being forced to snuff them out almost as soon as they began."
Aeon strode about the hall filled with Gods. He approached Jezebelle with Ella on his arm. "How does this day find you, Lady of Passion?" he asks with a smile.
Power had been building within Aeon for a time and his scope of influence increased as the angels sang praises throughout the heavens.
Jezebelle looked at Aeon approaching her with the first of the fallen.
She smiled seeing that they were getting along after all. She predicted a way more heated confrontation.
"I am great, thank you. I really do feel refreshed, and I feel like creating something. Maybe expanding on that continent of you and starting to evolve things a little. If you are not too afraid that I will leave babies on the edge of a cliff..."
The goddess came even closer to the heavenly light, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed the god on his lips. It wasn't a particularly sensual kiss, but a rather innocent one, almost virginal. but in that kiss, a little spark of Jezebelle divinity melded with a little spark of Aeon's and became one.
"I accept your invitation ... my essence and your essence will nurture each other from now on, and in turn ... they will nurture our people.
Do not make me regret this choice..."
It had never occurred to Azdan that there might be to much death at one time. Though it fell to him to oversee the advent of apocalypse, though he worked his craft and fulfilled his duties, and left it to others to create new life or defend extant life, the near-instant interstellar war risked by this new god was too much. There was no maturity. There was no mechanism for snuffing souls into oblivion. Too many would simply return to existence as souls in the afterlife, flooding his brother's halls and slowing down the process of sorting them.
He considered the problem, and it solution. Centuries passed by, though it was still not too late to act in the very beginning of things. But that, too, was complicated. Suppose a god conceived of this destruction before the advent of death. Even Yidhra could not contain that paradox, and if she could, there was no stopping another fledgling deity or powerful sorcerer from conceiving of paradox before she did.
Nes talked of rationality. Of rule the universe could depend on. Azdan could not remember a concept like the one he grasped for, but it was clear its invention was essential.
It must be done in a way that pleases them, so that it binds them, the Last thought from the shadow of his palace. Rational but cheatable, for Nes. Cheatable, but only in a way that contradicts itself, for Yidhra. Inviolate without consequence, for Aeon. Defining of, and related to all science and knowledge, for Lagdan. Structured in a framework that helps Melehan's work.
His concept would enable the Jezites to cherish what they had, or grow mad for what they lacked. It would make heroes immortal, even after they died.
Yes, this concept began to take a form. In the stars, Azdan could see its effects on the multiverse. Even the planes would be impacted, lest a god invest otherwise in its own home.
But he needed a catalyst, a creation that helped define his new concept. He thought of Nes' challenge. For Death to create new life was a contradiction, but Azdan had promised his brother to control the spread of undeath. He could simply duplicate himself, smaller robed figures bearing scythes to harvest souls and dark cloaks to bear them hence. But Nes had ruled that the new creatures be mortal.
He spoke into the darkness, an a wide assembly hall stretched out before him. A shining obsidian stage and chairs of black oak filled the room. Azdan took the stage, looking into the stars, into the dreams and fears of mortals. He searched his memory of the world before, ever unreliable. He made a note to ensure that the next end would be permanent for mortals and gods. He had perhaps traded for victory over eternity the last time, giving some of them knowledge of the worlds before. He would be more cautious this time. It was his duty.
[i]Time, he realized. Not an iteration of like events, but a flow. Not just last time and next time, but a framework for defining creation—a beginning and an end. The space between punctuated by historic events. The struggle of even gods contained in a line of time. Began by the awakening of the divine, ended by the inevitable apocalypse, which must be, and which must be on...
Time.
The present moment took control of his thoughts again. He looked into the chamber and saw his audience—formless, black shadows awaiting their own creation. Time would figure into the creation of his new life form. They must be mortal, so they would die on a schedule. They would therefore need replenishing.
One of them took form. A dried jackal corpse with a rotten throat. It rasped when it spoke.
"Throatrot answers your call, Last One. All who die of hunger and thirst are my domain. Any who cheat their deaths will see me until they surrender."
Azdan smiled. He knew.
He lifted his arms and cast out his will to the remaining seats in the room. The rows of blackwood chairs expanded by thousands. For every conceivable death a new beast took a chair and answered with obedience. Azdan introduced time into their making, giving them mortality of a sort. He gave them a way to replenish their ranks.
From the blackness of the Obsidian Palace, Azdan spoke into the cosmos.
"I have made my offering, Noble One. I invite you to come, and see."
The ordering of time ripples across the universe like a tidal wave. Some events are obliterated, some rearranged. The universe begins again as void, but quickly sees the development of land, water, and ice. Cold winds blow from the great northern glacier and young mortals herd flocks of animals toward warmer climes. Barbarians roam nomadically, inventing songs to honor their fallen heroes. Greater heroes arise, planting their tents and building cities. The dead follow Azdan's cloak to the Amaranthine, where the Pit or ascension awaits.
Mortals learn to keep themselves warm by fire. They study their own tales, love and hate, war and make peace, and history orders itself for their edification.
Somewhere, a burning village stops dying. Though Azdan is loathe to watch time re-order the lost lives into living potential, flames gutter on the burned corpses and they get up again, they cease their running and resume work, as the object of their fears, the invading machines from the stars, return to their home.
In the future, the fires of industry and science may yet bring them back to conquer. Lagdan turns his eyes to building other servants in the mean time, but as Azdan gazes across the stars, the Last One knows that the same war may still be coming.
Apocalypse. In due time.
Despite the existence of a huge demiplane shining in the sky, the mortals she was watching on the world below seemed entirely unsatisfied with its warmth, instead choosing to warm themselves by the power of fire. Yidhra cried a little bit at her massive creation being totally ignored, though part of her was happy at the fact that none of them seemed satisfied with the warmth she offered and sought other stuff. Azdan's decree of time, with its ability to create paradoxes, also interested her.
Naturally, she was going to try and make as many paradoxes as possible.
When next Yidhra turned her head away from the mortals, an appropriately sized mug of cocoa was floating next to her, in a happy-face mug.
"Ooh!" Without even the slightest bit of hesitation, Yidhra grabbed the mug of cocoa and started drinking, almost radiating a sense of positive energy as she did so. This was, in fact, the first time she'd actually drank anything, and if her simple delight was anything to go by, it had been a fantastic choice.
Nes breaks a shard off of himself so he does not abandon his guests. The piece of the Lord of Civilization makes his way slowly to Azdan’s realm, enjoying the site-seeing along the way. “Love what you’ve done with the place,” he quips as soon as the deathlord comes into his sight.
The Father of Fey takes a circuit around the room, looking over all of the many forms of death with the patience of an immortal. It takes quite a while. “I give you top marks for originality and I appreciate you trying to game the system,” Nes says with a smirk. “But while the latter earns my esteem, only the former counts towards your score. Please, tell me about your new potential children,” he says with a sweep of his arm towards the assembled creatures.
Hidden by the lollygagging within Azdan’s realm, the shard of Nes also weaves a rippling change to the universe. It rides the waves of Azdan’s decree, making it impossible to determine the source of the shift.
Every Concept must have a definition and rules, which are decided by the god during its creation. These descriptions may be as specific or vague as the god wishes. These Concepts may then be built upon or Alchemized by any god, but the more specific or Alchemized Concepts must incorporate all rules from the original Concepts. Any god may grant their creations any Concept, but the creation must then obey all rules of the Concept.
A god may use a Scourge/Boon action (3 AP) when creating a Concept to restrict the Concept to use by their creations only (unless they give permission or are defeated in combat as normal). The rules of a Concept can be changed by their creator or by another god who defeats the creator in combat, for 2 AP.
Note: Nes possesses the One with the Shadows ability, so no God automatically knows IC he was responsible for the above, but can note it occurring if it affects your creations.
Total AP Left = 6 (10 after tonight)
"Nnnnnyaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Yidhra abruptly stood up, gathering divine power within herself and making a fundamental change within her own divinity. The mad goddess of Paradoxes was already inconceivable and opposed to reason, so it was probably inevitable that she would also support creation, protection, and orderly things. What, there were those who really thought she was just crazy and chaotic? Psh. Yidhra was Law as well as Chaos, after all, and as few or as many things as once as she wished.
"Aaaaah, that's better." Yidhra said, humming happily. Now she only had to wait a little bit more...
Turning to Melehan, Lagdorn gives a craggy smile. "Indeed. If you were to give me this boon, I would be in you debt, Arbiter. As it stands, I must give my people security, and their own sort of power if one of the races from the World were to come here first-though it will likely be more peaceful than the first encounter with the Oreads."
With a wave of the forge god's hand, cities began to form. Some were the peaceful lights of the Minlings, others were dark bastions of the Darzions. The Balance Shamans continued to travel the land, dispensing advice. And then new power entered Mirrodin, the power of Balance Magic.
As his people mastered this new art, Lagdorn turns to Melehan. "Although I appreciate this boon, and the extra men will help my people advance, please do not incur the wrath of your brother on my behalf. Thank you, Melehan."
Create Society
Magical Concept: Balance Magic. As described in my previous post, except it combines Light, Dark, and Balance magic.
Now to do domains for my previous actions as well as my new ones.
Oread Stuff:
Advanced Concept Space Travel: Society 2/7
Create Society: Society 3/7
Advanced Concept: Steam Tech: Society 4/7
Bless Warforged: Society 5/7
Create Sentient Race: Oreads: Creation 2/7
Create Planet: Creation 7/7
Now to total up Narzion stuff:
Create Narzions: Balance 2/7
Magical Concept: Balance Magic: 5/7
Form Order: Balance Shamans: Balance 7/7
Create Society: Society 6/7
So that totals up for 2 domains available for gaining :)
Melehan nods with a slight smirk.
"My brother's angered me in the past. I suppose it's time to return the favor."
Melehan returns to the Amaranthine and gathers the souls of the lost Oreads and presents his offer to them. Some accept, others don't. Those that don't Melehan says to the Plain, or the Pit, as the law demanded. Those who accepted, Melehan escorted them personally back to Mirrodin, where they began to be born into new Narzion bodies, their memories of the past falling away, beginning anew.
Yir shifted in the sand of her island, the water of high tide tickling her toes. She shook her head, clearing the grogginess in her mind and the sand from her head. Above her a small pod of Sky Whales flew, chasing after a large rain cloud, chirping as they went. With a stretch Yir ventured down into the water, strolling along the shallows letting the waves lap at her legs.
Then she heard it, far off and faint, almost a raspy hiss, like scales rubbing against one another. She walked along the sand, descending down into the depths of the ocean. She traveled past the city she had made, it seemed empty of the usual hustle and bustle. As she continued on she realized everyone was in the center plaza, with one mereperson, a black and orange woman floating above them with a stone tablet in her hands. Although she was not close enough to catch all of the speech she did hear the merewoman say Asildon's name, and his seemingly growing list of titles. With a chuckle she continued past, through the kelp forest and into deep, open water, in search of the raspy noise.
It was dark, no light made it down this far unless the creature themselves brought it with them. Yir gave off a faint blue glow. Angler fish swam towards her only to abruptly change direction when they realized she was far to large to be prey.
A roar echoed through the deep. Angry, and yet a hint of inexpiable sadness. The water suddenly rushed past her as a large beast lunged for her. Gracefully she danced out of the way, just being able to get a glance at the creature that had attacked her. It was larger than any snakes she had seen on the land or along the coast. Its large reptilian eyes glowing gold despite the depth and small pockets of luminescence lined its body, revealing its length. With a hiss it lunged again at Yir trying desperately to catch on to her. She caught its jaws with her hands and stared directly into the reptilian eyes.
Now why would you be foolish enough to attack me, in my own domian? She asked in bemusement. This creature posed her no threat but it was a curious creature. It hissed again and tried to shake free of he grasp, writhing in the water.
Now, now, there is no need to be afraid of me. After all I am the Lady of the Sea, and you are most certainly in the sea right now long one.
The serpent eyed her. This was not his creator, somehow he knew and understood that, but she was not a threat. He could hear the soothing lullabies floating through the water, singing her praises. He stopped struggling and Yir let go of him. He glanced her over, and swung his head around her, inspecting every inch of her before resting his head in her outstretched hands. He would accept her, and he was sure his kind would do the same. She was safe, she was home.
She stroked his head, feeling the smoothness of his scales.
"Welcome, long one, once you were known as Sea Serpents, and so you will be called once more. Please go forth and tell your brethren that I am not to be feared."
With a flick of his tail he disappeared back into the dark.
+4 AP weekly turn over
-3AP Gain domain Monster
3AP left
In a far away spot of the new universe, a prison of a sort floated in space. The crystalline structure spun and tumbled among the aether. Then suddenly, a planet appeared out of nowhere, created via divine will. Decrees backed by the power of the gods were set into motion. Such incredible amounts of deific energies proved to be enough to shatter the prison, releasing its lone occupant: A new deity, or rather, an old one from the prior universe. However, the shock of being freed, and the eons of imprisonment had taken their toll on the young god, and it took him several centuries to truly awaken.
When he did, he strode through heavens, looking at the various creations and works of familiar forces.
There was the afterlife, created by Melehan. Death existed, enacted by the Will of Azdan. And what was that? Was it the familiar, yet not, force of his father, Nes?
He decides to seek him out first, curious to find out what had transpired since his fell confinement.
Upon reaching his father's city, he walks quietly through the streets, up to the hall where Nes held court. He enters the main chamber, speaking softly, yet heard clearly by the Kingmaker "Hello Father. You've been well, I take it?"
To say that Nes looks surprised by Liriiestil’s appearance, is an understatement. If his jaw wasn’t attached, it’d probably have fallen off his face and skittered away across the floor. The silver-tongued god appears truly at a loss for words. He takes entire seconds to recover his composure.
“… hello. Welcome,” he says, doing his best to affect his trademark grin. “I am doing well enough, I suppose. I wouldn’t complain even if I had cause to,” he weakly quips. “I am… glad to see you survived the apocalypse. Ah… everyone who is not already familiar, I’d like you to meet one of my… well I suppose my only child, now- Liriiestil,” Nes says, like fatherly affectations are uncomfortable.
Nes seems to be visibly struggling to come up with something to say, which leads to what is most likely a rather uncomfortable silence.
“Can I get you anything- food, drink, or entertainment?” he finally asks, falling back on old hosting habits.
Jezebelle laughed heartily.
"Judging by the look on your face one could think he revealed himself as your son for the first time.
I should know that, I have made plenty of those announcements to unsuspecting fathers."
The goddess of passions approached the new arrival and offered the back of her hand to him.
"Welcome to the new world.... I am the first woman ... you can call me Jezebelle"
Lir walks across the room to where his father was seated "Relax Dad, no hard feelings about anything from the old world. Tis truly gone and in the past. Now is the time for new beginnings, literally and metaphorically."
Yidhra hummed happily as she molded some things with her hands. The first form was that of a truly gorgeous woman - a fine torso, slender limbs, lustrous hair, and bearing a distinct resemblance to a certain original feminine entity. Afterwards, though, she quietly built a sphere around it, then began adding more material around the sphere (and a colored slit right down the middle). A few stalks on top, a big mouth there, a bunch more eyes on the end of its wavy limbs... perfect!
“Well, Jezebelle, now that you mention it, I wasn’t exactly friendly with his mother for the explicit purpose of conception,” Nes replies looking a bit chagrined at being jested at. He turns to Lriiestil. “But I was simply surprised that you survived,” he says carefully. “I’d be surprised if any of my children showed up after I’d written them off for dead,” he shrugs his shoulders and smiles more genuinely. “To be painfully honest, I was enjoying the lack of responsibility,” Nes laughingly admits.
“Speaking of which… son, there’s an opportunity on deck for you to make your old man proud, and earn a major boon,” he says. “I’ve challenged each of the gods to create a new unique mortal race that is interesting and has potential for civilization. That way everybody gets their own little team to support during an evolving series of challenges,” Nes explains. “So if you want to participate, you are welcome. I’d recommend really thinking outside of the box; there are some serious contenders already. I think we are both well aware that I won’t play favorites.”
“Well, Jezebelle, now that you mention it, I wasn’t exactly friendly with his mother for the explicit purpose of conception,” Nes replies looking a bit chagrined at being jested at. He turns to Lriiestil.
Jezebelle giggled
"Typical... enjoying all the fun, refusing all the responsibilities...But that's ok... I'm not big on responsibilities too.
Except for those of motherhood... but again ... I'm better off without a meddling father most of the times.
Lir turns a bit sad "I only survived because a powerful archfiend imprisoned me so that I would be powerless to protect my people. I believe the creation of this world and other divine mandates caused my prison to shatter"
He turns then to Jezebelle, taking her hand in his and kissing its back. [b]"You had to be a red-head, huh? I have such a weakness for them." He says grinning.
He turns then to Jezebelle, taking her hand in his and kissing its back. "You had to be a red-head, huh? I have such a weakness for them." He says grinning.
"of course you have.... everyone does..." said the goddess with a seductive smirk.
"I have many other forms of course. But this is how I was born. And I quite enjoy this form. I never heard anyone complaining either..."Jezebelle giggled amused by Liriiestil appreciation.
"So ... did you take a look at the new creation since you broke free? There is anything you like?"
Without much else to do with her sculpture of a monster, Yidhra flitted around for awhile before whirling around and placing it within the monastery where her tiny number of faithful gathered to ponder the (non-)wisdom of their chosen deity. There was nothing particularly special about the item itself, but one of the brighter initiates eventually put it on a pedestal, along with the simple name 'Beauty is in the Eye'. Nobody there had any idea what the creature itself was supposed to be, but that was okay. They felt like that all the time anyway.
Liriiestil stands about six feet tall, with short black hair. He has piercing blue eyes, a goatee and an all around roguish look to him. Calling him devilishly handsome would be pretty accurate. He does not appear strong, but definitely has a deceptive, lithe strength.
He's currently wearing black leather armor with silver accents, and his longsword and rapier hang from his hips. He also has a bow and quiver strapped to his back. In short, due to being imprisoned during the height of the war that ended the last universe, he's dressed for combat
Done with confusing her followers for a bit, Yidhra vaulted through space until she landed back in the space above the world, putting her alien mind to use on figuring out what sorts of things she could do to make the world a more interesting place. "Hmm... Everybody gets so mad over the silly things..." she pondered. "Maybe it would be best if they all just relaxed a little and had fun instead?"
There was a lot of work still to be done, Melehan thought as he sorted through the judgments of the recently dead, sending the souls of the Oreads back to Lagdorn, and deciding where the souls of man and Sidhe and other races should go.
He began pondering his options...
Lagdorn knew that if the Light and Dark Narzions were forced to live together, violence would break out. Summoning his divine power, he created a notion in a Darkened's head: that the Darkened could live without the other Narzions. It was born of pride, one of the staples of the Darkened, and soon he created a vast empire of darkness, learning, creating...
With this final act, Lagdorn felt new godly power rush into his being. He sits and bides his time, waiting for his power to return to him.
Gain Domain: Balance
Create Society
Society: 7/7
Though the deities can still see forward and backwards in time, the new order of the universe pleases Azdan. Life and death are under control. In fact, an interesting side effect of his invention is that space, and life and entropy all conform to a rational set of rules. God are not rational, but their creation must be.
Azdan looks into the future at the trials to come, and then surveys creation once more. Apocalypse and destruction is unavoidable, but in the future. The mortals have time to grow, to worship. Lagdan's creations separate themselves into distinct groups—an act that presages bloody conflict in years to come.
The toll of time on the universe gives unassailable power to the truth of death. Creatures wither as they age, distant suns die and fail to shed their light. Though mortals will not know of the death of other worlds, again because of time and its ordered rules, death and decay affects all things, and there are no exceptions.
Azdan smiles and watches the universe succumb to the ravages of his newest invention. He see the other gods use it to order their own plans. Every, even Azdan, must obey.
He looks into the world and waits to see what happens next.
Erande finds himself floating above the world that he has had a hand in creating. Watching the peoples of the world grow and change he smiles, feeling the power of life growing with him. As the light from the plane of Yidhra (does it have a name? Erande resolved to ask her next time he saw her) basked the planet, he thought about the gods he had met, and to his surprise, he noticed that he had gained in power, at least by the measure that gods notice such things.
Pleased, he decided to continue his quest to give all the gods a gift. Now was just a manner of finding the right gift for each of them. Floating there, he decided to give it some thought...
level up! -5 AP
3 AP remaining.
Lir shakes his head, "No, I have not seen much since I broke free. As soon as I sensed my Father's presence, I came here straightaway."
Turning to Nes "Sure, I'll take you up on that contest. Sounds fun."
He returns his attention to Jezebelle "Care to give me a tour of this new world? Much rather spend time in the company of a gorgeous young lady, then wander alone" He says with an impish grin.
He returns his attention to Jezebelle "Care to give me a tour of this new world? Much rather spend time in the company of a gorgeous young lady, then wander alone" He says with an impish grin.
Jezebelle giggles "I suppose you mean young looking. I am beyond ancient, born in the first world as the first woman."
Jezebelle offers her hand to Liriiestil
"But that's for the better. I can show you what women can do, and girls can't. I'll show how a goddess shapes reality."
Jezebelle leads Liriiestil in the infinite space... Jezebelle starts to blow fog from her mouth. soon enough, the two gods are surrounded by thick pinkish fog. when the fog start to clear they are in a new strange plane.
Highly morphic, the plane seems to shape itself around the very thoughts of their dwellers.
Around them, thousands of mirrors. enough to make even a god disoriented.
"Welcome to my new home. Onirica... the land of dreams. Here all the creatures of the universe will dwell in their sleep...
Even you... if you ever want to dream."
Weave plane: Onirica (5 pt.)
Cosmic decree: All sleeping creatures' consciousness travels to Onirica. (5 pt.)
Onirica is a plane that shapes around the consciousness of the people that dwells in it. Is a place of illusions where mortals and gods experience their dreams (if they dream at all).
I consider anything that cannot think or doesn't sleep as something that doesn't dream. (for example, vampires dreams, zombies probably wouldn't, Regular rocks definitely don't) everyone else, unless specified in creation and with a good justification, should dream.
Only consciousness travels to Onirica. That means that no harm can be done to the dreamers by normal means. At the same time. No power or ability really works when used by dreamers. The dreams illusion may shape around a dreamer to make him feel like they work, but they really don't.
That means that true dream creatures dwelling the dreamworld cannot be harmed by dreamers (the same goes with gods living or visiting Onirica)
They on the other hands can "harm" the dreamers (not because they are dream creatures per se, but because dream creatures will tend to have abilities that allow them to do so).
All sort of bad things can potentially happen to the dreamers.
Being "stuck" on a dream means entering a coma. Any psychological trauma will carry on on the material plane life. And of course, once I create succubi (that's the next step) they will be able to feed through dreams.
At the moment aside from Jezebelle's direct intervention there is nothing that can cause bad things to happen in Onirica.
A whole array of dream magical concept can be created to enter the dreamworld in the flesh and harm the dream creatures. Or to mantain a certain degree of control while dreaming.
In Pathfinder terms, Onirica would be a heavily Chaotic aligned plane.
Is pretty much an hostile and disorienting place to lawful mentalities.
As a god, having the chaos or dreams domains will help navigating and transforming the landscape of Onirica.
Every god (and every mortal too if they make a magical concept about it) can enter Onirica from every reflection in the world. Mirrors, but also just water will do. With the proper concepts mirror can also be used to scry into the dreamlands.
Entrances to the dreamland are not "locked". Every god can enter freely.
But tampering with people dreams without Jezebelle authorization would be quite a Major offense. She consider this her demesne, and all the dreamers her personal guests if not temporary subjects or prisoners.
Feel free to ask any question. To use boons/curses to prevent any part of those effects (just try to make sense. take the time to think a reason why things doesn't work as supposed)
Upon first entering and experiencing Onirica, Lir is disorientated somewhat, but soon manages to shake that off. "Interesting creation, and you've made it so all mortals and even immortals come here when they dream? How strongly do they enter your realm? Do they just brush against it, or do they come here fully? The latter is rather dangerous."
Melehan watched the creation of the dream world with interest. The people of the North and the Sidhe dreamed of iron and survival and faith. As time had passed, Melehan had watched as Oenar had become more distant. Maybe it was because mortals were becoming more populous in the North, perhaps it was just her desire to be alone, even as part of the pantheon.
For his part, Melehan felt he had remained indecisive long enough. It was time to act.
The first thing he did was call a great gathering within the Last Tribunal of the souls of his faithful. He regarded them with his serious, regal visage and spoke:
"The time has come to show the world that while death may be forestalled, it cannot be denied. I have created a judge to watch over these hallowed halls in my absence..."
Artoia nods.
"But she is only one servant. I will need many to ensure the natural order of this world. Your tasks in life were only the beginning. Now, you will become my emissaries among the mortals. Not just in the North you called home, but among all peoples of all lands. When the dying cry out for mercy and salvation, you will be there to guide them, whether here to the Amaranthine, or to the sides of their own divine patrons. So let it be."
Melehan waved his hand, and the souls of his followers began to change. Some sprouted black feathers and grew raven's heads. Others took on the gruff and stern features of black bears and wolves. The greatest among them, those who had been first among Melehan's faithful, took the shapes of great black dragons. When it was over, a virtual army of strange beast-men stood before Melehan, black in color, clad in silver.
"Go my scions, my psychopomps. The time has come for the dead to be granted succor."
So the psychopomps scattered into the world, appearing to the dead and dying to ferry them to their place in the afterlife, whether that was to the Amaranthine to be judged by Melehan or Artoia, or to the realms of the gods they worshiped in life, to serve them.
Upon first entering and experiencing Onirica, Lir is disorientated somewhat, but soon manages to shake that off. "Interesting creation, and you've made it so all mortals and even immortals come here when they dream? How strongly do they enter your realm? Do they just brush against it, or do they come here fully? The latter is rather dangerous."
"Are you nervous? scared even?" said Jezebelle with an amused grin.
"I like it ... like a little bite on the neck, or the fingernails of a lover clawing into your back... it makes things exciting."Jezebelle looked at Liriiestil amused as the first dreamers flocked into that new world.
"Their bodies remains behind... they don't even approach this world.
But their minds, their conscience, their soul... they are all here. And they bring a heavy burden with them too...
Jezebelle waved her hand to disperse the fog, and behind that veil there was a man. One of the northerners. He was naked, and scared, and cold, in a strange forest, as wolves howled all around him.
"With them they bring their fears, their hopes, their secret desires, the things they cannot confess, not even to themselves."
The whole scene seemed to happen in a bubble, the two gods were right in front of him, but somehow beyond his capability to perceive them.
The wolves approached and started to surround the scared northerner.
Jezebelle smiled as a pillar of flame appeared, scaring the wolves away.
The human was scared as well, but he was paralyzed rather than running.
After a few moments his mind started to accept the unpredictability of this new world. the fire that scared him just a few seconds before was now giving him warmth.
Jezebelle turned to Liriiestil.
"It's not just make believe you know? He is really lost in a forest, he really feel the wolves are approaching. He's not naked, but he feels vulnerable as if he was."
Slowly, the fog covers the scene again.
"so... what do you think about it?"
Having passed the winged lizard, The Wind's Call began to make good time, backed by a cold wind from the north. After days of sailing, the first hint of trouble was the way the horizon was enveloped in darkness, the roiling hint of a storm so massive that the end of it could be seen in neither direction. Staying calm, Kargoth (now Captain Kargoth) instructed the small crew (which consisted of Kylar the strong, Schenia the tricky, Pious Torgen, Joshua the treacherous, and the old crone leeshu) to lash themselves to the boat and prepare for the worst. "Whatever happens, we must keep the ship together, or we shall surely die."
"Funya!" Yidhra stretched widely as she woke up from her nap, a little sleepy still but ready to pay more attention to the world. It wasn't immediately obvious if this was a good thing or not, considering how strange her point of view tended to be. She'd spent a little while in an interesting world of dreams, and her very nature was calling out for her to do something. She was, after all, a Goddess of Nightmares, and such things fell under her purview.
So, naturally, she did nothing at all about it. She wouldn't be who she was if she did something just because her own divine nature demanded it - that would have made no sense at all. "Nnn..."
Yidhra rubbed at her eyes a bit, then drew back her hand before reaching out and focusing her attention on a small region of space. It slowly warped under her gaze, twisting and churning under the force of a god's gaze, and soon... the softest, fluffiest pillow in the universe appeared, and Yidhra happily flipped over and put her head against it. Cool and refreshing... yes, this was right.
Jezebelle was laughing, and smiling, and giggling with Liriiestil when for a small moment a shadow seemed to cross her expression.
"her uh?" she murmured before returning the smiling goddess she was before.
Meanwhile in another part of the Onirica the dark haired aspect of Jezebelle was looking through the fog, seeing Yidhra dreaming.
"That weirdo is going to mess up this place. It's time to let her know who is in command here."
The Onirica started to shape around her, dark clouds were gathering as a colossal Jezebelle figure appeared, holding her over the palm of her gigantic right hand.
"I don't know what you are planning to do goddess of Paradoxes? I don't even know if you are capable of planning at all. But have no doubt... the dreams are mine... this place is mine.
If you ever think about tampering with them without my permission I'm going to unmake you. Do you understand? Whatever you do with dreams will pass through my approval, or it will be the last thing you ever do in this existence..."
The whole Onirica trembled, not Yidhra dream, not around this gigantic Jezebelle form. But rather a huge shockwave crossing all dreams everywhere in the universe.
"You will ask my permission to dwell between the dreams... but lest you forget... I AM the dream."
Weave Sanctum: Onirica (-3 AP)
Gain Domain: Dreams [Dreamlands] (-3 AP)
"Nnn. Y-shagg. Sgn'wahl? Mnahn'fhalma." Yidhra said sleepily, yawning as she looked at the colossal figure. She teetered forward, clutching her recent creation before jumping off of the huge hand and landing on Jezebelle's... er... mountainous pillows. "...Comfy. G'night." It seemed that even within her dreams, Yidhra was sleeping and not really paying that much attention to anything that was going on. The real question was what would happen once she finally woke up... and whether or not there was any point in even trying to guess. Yidhra's chaos was not the chaos of pure randomness, of upsetting order, or altering the state of the world. It was a chaos that was self-contradictory, made no sense, and was as regular as it was impossible to predict. If nothing else, though, she didn't really seem hostile to anyone else's creations. On the other hand, it was entirely possible that she hadn't even noticed them...
Another shockwave shackes the Onirica. This time Jezebelle smile is lost entirely and she makes no attempt to regain her composure.
She turns to Liriiestil with a serious face.
"Looks like one of my guests is overstaying her welcome. A welcome she never asked for in the first place..."
Jezebelle projects herself into the infinite fogs of the Onirica.
A loud crash can be heard in every dream at the same time as the dream Yihdra was into cracks and falls into pieces like a broken mirror.
Jezebelle is here... and on her hand she wields a whip made of blood and the thorny vines of a hundred roses.
She strikes at the chaos goddess trying to strangle her.
That would wake her and demand her full attention...
Yidhra groaned uncomfortably as something unhappy struck her, and slowly, the sleeping deity drifted towards consciousness. Despite her apparent defenselessness, the blow did minimal damage to her. The Goddess of Paradoxes wasn't particularly vulnerable to harm, even while paying no attention at all. Slowly, though, she opened one of her eyes - and for just a moment, every rule stopped applying. Through nothing but the force of her will, Yidhra bludgeoned the Divine Beauty with a burst of insanity.
Admittedly, it wasn't much of an attack, all considered. Yidhra herself was quite sleepy and not even putting too much effort into things... at least until she slowly rose up, gathering the impossible powers of paradox around her. "Just wanna sleep..." she murmured. "Don' care about what you do with dreams, but don't interrupt mine..." The thick, hard covers of a book appeared between her hands, then opened wide as pages rapidly began to fill them. On each page was a collection of information about magical techniques, practical application, and the paradoxes that Yidhra represented. It contained quite a lot on various spells, and had they been able to use it, a mortal might have become all but unrivaled as a spellcaster. Except... they couldn't, of course. The book contained far too much power for them to control.
Finally, Yidhra's eyes opened completely. "You..." she whispered softly, "Are not very nice." ...Said the deity wielding a spellbook of nigh-unfathomable power in one hand and the most comfortable pillow in the universe in the other.
The goddess was only slightly hurt physically.
But her ego was bleeding... badly.
She was about to lash at her again in a burst of furious rage when Yihdra said.
"Just wanna sleep... Don' care about what you do with dreams, but don't interrupt mine..."
and
"You... Are not very nice."
"You just... want... to sleep?" paraphrase Jezebelle.
"You manifest in a form that defies everything I stand for, you make everything you touch weird and out of control, then you plunge into my newly forged realm of dreams, wielding a relic that resonates with dreams, you ignore me and defy every attempt I make to talk to you...And yet... you are surprised by my reaction..."
Jezebelle gaze upon Yihdra is severe, but behind that stern expression something else was building. Fear. She was terrified by that goddess.
"You want to claim you don't want to twist and deform my creation, that you don't want to plunge every dreamer in the depths of madness.
Then say it, present yourself and your intentions to me. Answer me.
How can I otherwise assume anything but the worst from you?"
Jezebelle was still on guard, still on the edge. She had no clue on what was going to happen. Yihdra could hug her and make peace as well as blast her mind, and what's worse... even after seeing her reactions, or talking with her, could Jezebelle trust Yihdra to mean what she say or do?
Lagdorn awakens after a slumber. How long had he been out? That last effort had drained him-very much so. Lagdorn then felt new divine power rush within him. Ahhh... that was the stuff.
Turning to the new realm, Lagdorn frowned. He did not know much of the last universe, but he knew one thing-that it had been torn apart by war.
Suddenly, Lagdorn appears in between Yihdra and Jezebelle. "Stop, my sisters! I myself did not have the pleasure of existing in the last universe, though I know one thing about it: it was destroyed by war betwixt the gods! If you are to initiate this battle, it will be the first step of destruction for this young universe. Please, desist. This universe has so much more potential for you to begin squandering it."
The Eldritch goddess stretched a bit, yawning. More than anything else, though, she looked confused. "Well, it was your power that brought me here, wasn't it?" she asked, slowly rotating around until she was floating there, upside down. "I just wanted to rest. You're the one who insisted on making it so we'd all come here if we slept, and then you complain when it works the way it's supposed to? I don't really get it." Jezebelle's basic problem might not have been her choice in decrees or responses to Yidhra. No, chances were the major stumbling block was a little more fundamental... namely, the idea that Yidhra had any intentions or goals in the first place. The whimsical deity simply did as she pleased at any given time, never thinking ahead and never looking back. She might tear down everything one day, then work side-by-side with others to build it up again the next, with the same cheerful mood the entire time. There was no particular reason for anything she did, other than that it interested her at that particular moment.
The corner of Yidhra's mouth twitched a moment later. Despite her whimsy, she was also thoughtful and serious, and with a plan for everything. She was both law and chaos, everything and nothing. All things at once, but never truly any of them - this was the essence of paradox, a madness beyond insanity. "Let me ask a question instead." she said quietly. "A hunting spear exists because of the hunt. When the hunt is over with, you can forget the spear. Sleep exists to allow you to rest. When you've rested, you can forget about sleep. Beauty exists to be appreciated. If someone has appreciated a beauty, does that beauty still have a purpose?" she looked over to Lagdorn a moment later, once again confused. "Are we related?" she inquired. "I didn't know that."
"It appears you are misguided my dear..." Says Jezebelle to Yihdra smiling a little.
"Beauty has no purpose for beauty is no tool. Beauty is the goal."
Jezebelle felt more relaxed now as she started to put Yihdra in a more correct perspective. She wasn't truly a goddess. She had the power of a goddess, and in her very different and weird way the form of a goddess.
But she really was nothing but a phenomenon, a side effect, a weird abnormality.
With her erratic behavior she wasn't being hostile, she was just being.
She was innocent... unable of any malice.
Which didn't made her any less dangerous and scary. but ultimately made her appearance here not planned, her incorporation of the principles of dreams not an issued challenge. she just .. drifted in that direction.
And for the same nonexistent reason she could drift away with no consequence.
"It appears, inventor, that your intervention here is not needed..." said Jezebelle with a smile.
"It also appears that I owe you an apology Yihdra. My reaction was... uncalled for. You may have your nap and I'll make sure that you find yourself comfortable. But I would like to talk with you sometimes... no matter how much you resent it and how little it suits your nature, I know you are capable of reason."
"We depart." Aeon stated to the angels present. "Nes, thank you for your hospitality, I return to Heaven, feel free to visit me."
Turning to Ella, the red-haired angel "I depart my daughter, take good care of your mother. Remember that I love you, and you can choose righteousness if you will."
In a flash of light, the angels and Aeon are gone. Stepping out in a flash of light, Aeon returns to the towers and rolling clouds of Heaven. It is time for an old, friend. A piece of me that kept me alive through the ends of the ages time and time again.
He raises a hand to the infinite skies above. "COME FORTH! DURENDAL!" a crack split the sky and a thunderous boom echoed across the heavens . A sword fell at the speed of light into Aeon's waiting hand, a longsword of awesome power. Familiar in his grip, Aeon went through a few motions, his peerless skill returning in a matter of moments.
"Yay, naptime!" Within literally seconds, Yidhra was on her godly pillow, snoozing blissfully. Or so she pretended, because a few seconds later, she opened one of the eyes in her hair and stared at Jezebelle. The mouth in her hair that the eye was closest to peeled open and grinned. "Reason is what you make it." the hair-mouth said, and she truly did drift away... enjoying the peace of a rest that wouldn't be broken too easily. She vanished from the realm of dreams a moment later - Jezebelle had ordained that all sleeping creatures (and gods) would travel to the plane of dreams, but she'd never said that they couldn't leave after they arrived. She'd probably be more comfortable this way, too, because let's face it... having a deity of paradoxes slumbering in your nice dream realm over a long period of time probably wasn't going to work out too well.
Lir shakes his head "Scared? No, not at all. I don't dream, so I will not come here. Instead I remember, and should I desire to create any peoples, they to will remember, as opposed to dream."
He walks around Onirica, look to this dream and that, pondering. "I just do not like the idea that any who dream enter here and find themselves at your mercy. Its seems like an incredibly bad idea"
The young deity avoids the two warring gods, wanting no part in whatever quarrel sparked such a violent reaction. The power that these two wielded was a little overwhelming.
He looks to Jez, who did not fair too well against Yidhra, with a slight smile "See what I mean? Not the best idea to allow anybody in here, was it?"