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"I shall stay. My scimitar shall be needed. My body, too, shall be required. Let us fight this threat together, for if we fail, the world may not get a second chance."

"Stagbrow, I can give you a bond to nature again. Not like what you had. You will be forever changed. Death is a part of life, just as life is a part of death. I shall connect you to the darker side of nature, that you may see the world you live in from the other side of the looking glass. All of your strength, your knowledge, your power shall return to you. My brother, when he took your bond, also made you immune to the help of other archdruids, other paragons of nature, but this immunity also extends to their methods of harming you, of hindering you. You shall become a Druid of Death, a paragon of the darker side of the coin, and above all, you shall have the power to kill he who is most hateful to you."

At this, the Avatar of Death smiled.

"Merlyn..."

"Esil'Dar, I have have heard that he was seen here. Can you lead us further? We need to know more before we can continue."

"I have no objections. For now, i follow you, Merlyn."

"I insist, for without me you face certain failure. I know how the Avatars work, I know of the agreements they made, and I alone wield the weapon that can end them. And besides, at least one of us should return here to tell the tale of what happened, don't you think?"

Evidently Josephine knew a lot more than she outwardly showed.

"Ah, Merlyn. It has been some time. 20 years?"

The Avatar's upper torso lifted itself out of the sand. He was just as imposing as he once was, and the feeling of evil he gave off was not diminished, but he smiled with a warmth that he once could not.

"You once banished me from this land, and I went. But here I am now. Josephine, leave us for now, if you please."

Josephine stood, and left the room, standing outside.

"I come, not because Josephine needs me, but because I must tell you more of the Avatars. There are 5 in this world. Myself, and the avatars of Rock, Water, Air, and Death. Air is mutable, but he has currents that cannot be changed. Water follows rules. Earth is solid. All of these will uphold their promises to each other. We will not meddle in mortal affairs any further than we have."

Here the Avatar shows his new nature. He is still evil, but no more has he the thirst for power he once had. He opens a small viewing portal, and Merlyn recognises it as such. Through it, a stream of what looks like souls passing through a gate seems to be struggling.

"The Avatar of Death, however, is another matter entirely. It is he that allows death to happen, and he alone controls the gate that all mortal souls must pass through. If he was to... end that, then souls would not pass on. This power is what I fear. He may close the way, and if he does... it does not bear thinking about. I send you Josephine as a way to defend you from this fate."

The avatar gestures to the bag and the scimitar as he closes the portal.

"I will continue to advise you, if you call me. No more will I ask for a price. I fear Stagbrow is, in a way, a relic of mine. Only this scimitar, forged by the 5, can truly end his immortality."

"Josephine is, in addition to a warrior, a humanitarian. She has healing magic, along with cooking skills. She will teach you more of the West, if you ask for it. Fare you well, Merlyn."

And the sand, just like the last time it was invoked, streams back into the bag.

"Thank you, Merlyn. Watch carefully."

Josephine took the bag, and carefully swept her hand across each active gem, grabbing the barely perceptible bonds. She then drew the Scimitar across those bonds, visibly severing them.

"It is done. I will now call the Avatar."

She took a handful of the sand from the bag, and drew a circle on a clear space on Merlyn's desk...

"The question, Merlyn of the East, is not how you can help me, but how I can help you. I come here having spoken to Esil'Dar, and have heard of all that has happened here before I came. The Archdruid claims that this is a time of peace, and yet I arrive to find that the ranks of your... Paladins, i think you call them? have been bolstered significantly. I have conversed with the Avatar, and he in turn told me that he entered an agreement with the other Avatars. I come as their representative in this part of the world. I assume you have not forgotten how powerful the Avatar of the Sand was? He has not lost his touch, but it seems he considered you a worthy adversary, and so he asked me to come here."

At this point, Josephine seems a little lost. She is not used to being weaponless. It makes her feel uneasy.

"Rest assured, I am not here to cause strife, and the Avatar made it clear to me that I am not to harm any who do not wish harm upon others. Your paladins are no doubt skilled warriors, so you do not need me for that. And you are a skilled magician, perhaps the greatest this land will ever know, so you need not my magic. Guidance, however, is something you lack. The gods have left, including yours, and I wish to act as your advisor of sorts."

Josephine seems yet more lost. Speech comes easily to her, but Merlyn is an intimidating man, even in his aged state.

"If you wish proof of my allegiance to all in the East, then I would ask a favour of you. Give me the Bag of Sand that the Avatar gave you. I shall sever all ties it has to the other Archdruids. No doubt such an act will lift the burden on their hearts. I will also call the Avatar, as the bag will function purely as a communication system after I have severed the ties."

And finally Josephine finds the strength to finish what she needs to say.

"I will require my scimitar in order to do so. It has the power to negate any Avatar's magic to any degree that I see as being balanced. You see, the Avatars agreed to meddle no more in mortal affairs, but they lack the power to destroy relics of their own making. So they pooled their power, and now it lies in the sword. And I alone know how to use it. If you are willing, I will take an apprentice, who I shall teach the ways of the weapon. This will take many years to accomplish, but it will also provide you with a way to stop the desolation that the Black Desert caused. Avatars can be clever, twisting words to their own ends, and my own patron does not trust the Avatar of the Dead farther than he can be thrown. Let me do this for you, Merlyn, that the East does not come to remember only pain and suffering caused by the West."

Josephine stops, and awaits Merlyn's verdict.

After months of travel, Josephine finally arrived at Lighton. She approached the first Paladin she could see, and asked to see Merlyn, Magician of the East. All she could do now, was wait...

"Hmmm... you appear to have bested me, Esil'Dar. Indeed, the Avatar foresaw as much. Thank you for a most excellent game." Josephine was thrilled. Several times, Esil'Dar had outsmarted her, used hidden strategies, and had finally put her into an unwinnable situation. "Perhaps one day you may be needed as a strategist in a much larger conflict. However, now I must leave. To this... Lighton I go."

Josephine took up her sword, and Esil'Dar by this time had studied it extensively. It was a finely made scimitar, and the jewel in the hilt seemed to shimmer, almost as if it wasn't quite there. The details in the hilt showed desert, forest, mountain and ocean, all at peace with each other. And the sword itself seemed to hum with power, almost as if it was intelligent. But then, a truly intelligent sword would never reveal it's true nature willingly.

"Maybe we shall see each other again? I would like another game, perhaps when I do not have such a burden to carry. Farewell, and may the Forest be safe while I am gone." And with that, Josephine turned away, and walked around the forest, making sure not to walk under the canopy.

The Dunewalkers, Josephine's order of warriors, have a de facto calendar already. There are 3 seasons, one for the cooling of the world (late autumn into early winter, known as "The Sleeping"), one for the warming (late winter into early spring, known as "The Waking"), and one for when the Desert is too hot for most to walk it ("Fury"). Make of this what you will.

I recommend naming the days of the week after the first 3-5 letters of a God in the story's name, followed by a suitable suffix. For example Fardas, Leadas, Nevin. This helps to tie the idea of weeks into the calendar.

I would also recommend not having the exact same number of months. After all, the world has jsut come out of war and their gods leaving them alone. I think naming the seasons would be a better idea for the time being. Maybe name them after their patron god? For example, Destran for the "Dark Weeks", meaning the winter.

Perhaps a yearly celebration/mourning for the War of Good and Evil coming to a culmination is in order. I shall call it... Merlyndas. He does lead a theocracy, and he was originally Leafar's "Prophet". Sounds familiar, doesn't it?

"Chess. A game of skill, thought, and tactics. Of course I will have a game."

Josephine very carefully opens a bag of her own pieces, made especially for her.

"These pieces were made for me by my father, cut from the rock that my family lived on. My name is Josephine, and I do indeed come peacefully."

As she finished setting up, with a careful hand from years of practice, she considers her opening moves. And she and Esil'Dar begin to play.

"Esil'Dar, I call to you, in the name of the Far West! I bid thee, come and speak a while!"

So said a young woman, clad in armor, sitting on the far side of the Barrier of Light. The land to the west of the barrier was recovering. It seems as though the Black Desert had not soured the land, and had indeed left hope for revival.

"My people have heard of you, Esil'Dar, Friend of the Black Desert. I am their prime fighter, one of the few known as Dunewalkers. We were all picked by the sands of the Black Desert itself, and fear not it's interference with our affairs. The Avatar has weakened, Archdruid. He no longer thirsts for conquest, but instead wishes to aid. Where is the one known as Merlyn? For I come as an advisor, tactician, and redeemer on the behalf of the Avatar of the Sand."

As she says this, she lays her sword flat on the ground in front of her. It's hilt is made of a gem that seems to contain the same roil of black sand kept in the pool the Avatar left behind.

"The Avatar also wished me to pass on this message. The pool of sand he left behind functions as a conduit, a method of speaking with him. All the avatars have agreed to neutrality, and my sword is the seal of that contract." And, indeed, the sword has an engraving on the side, that reads as "We are all part of Beriya. We are neutrality embodied. We are the Counsel of Avatars."

"I ask not that you trust me. The Avatar has told me much of what has happened, so I will not desecrate your forest by entering it. I only ask what has happened to Archdruid Stagbrow since the Avatar fulfilled his promise to Merlyn?"

The Avatar of Sand was true to his word.The moment he left Merlyn's side, the Black Desert began it's retreat across the land. What it left behind was either miraculous or yet another game that the Avatar played.

Within walking distance from the Great Forest was the beginning of a chessboard so massive as to take up all of the space the Black Desert had covered in it's exodus.

And, just before the chessboard was a small hole in the ground.

Filled with Black Sand.

Exit, stage left. In all seriousness though, I think good guys are more my style.

Lord Foul II should not rule this city because anyone having read the Chronicles of Thomas Covenant will know that he's gonna get beat by a madman with a ring and he doesn't know what to do with it!

"Ah, but Merlyn, I was just getting to know you. The ritual shall be completed before I go, but in exchange for your insolence, I will show you what I can truly do to your pathetic seed."

Merlyn felt something was wrong before he could feel anything. He looked first at the bag of sand, which had the Archdruid Stagbrow's visage in his gem, coiling and screaming as I tore asunder his connection to his druidic ways. Never again would he feel the connection with the earth, with nature, with anyone. The Archdruids are indeed immortal, and unconquerable, but they are not undefeatable. Stagbrow's torment as he lost his bond with the world tree was almost unbearable for Merlyn to watch.

But I have barely begun.

All Druids, farmers and scholars know that soil is made up of 3 components. Clay, from which we bake pots. Foliage, the recycled remains of what came before. And...

"SSSSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNDD..."

Merlyn watched helplessly as the tree he just planted began to fall. It was a simple matter, dragging the clay and rotten plant matter deep beneath the earth. So deep, in fact, that the World Tree had nothing left to grip but sand. My, my, how his face goes pale...

"The other key difference between Gods and Avatars, is that We are all forces of nature. There is an avatar of the Ocean, of the Fields, of the Rocks, yes, even an Avatar of the Forests, and now Merlyn, you have caused me to declare war on my Sister! By your sheer refusal to believe that maybe, just maybe, I was telling the truth! FALL!"

The World Tree gave out a cry of pain, felt the world over. The pain was felt the most in the Great Forest, in immediate proximity to the Fall of the World Tree.

"I will indeed go into the West, and I will take my Desert with me, but I will leave you the Bag of Sand, that you can remember your folly, and maybe not think yourself above all! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahaha..."

And with that, the Avatar descended into the pool of black sand, which then reformed into the face of Archdruid Stagbrow before turning white.

The sands pooled in the middle of the circle, and from the pool of seething sand rose the figure of the Avatar, with the same smile he always wore. With a flourish, he turned to face Merlyn.

"Hello Merlyn. I had a feeling it would come to this. The ritual is not yet complete. First, you must select one of the Archdruids, for reasons that you well know. Each gem has a name inscribed upon it, created at the moment of bonding. And you must tell me your enemy. I assume that they are nearby..."

While this was happening, each of the Archdruids felt that the ritual had begun. To some, it felt like all their will had been absorbed. To others, it felt like their connection to the Great Tree was at risk. And all knew that one of them was at risk...

And so it begins...

Esil'Dar, Ae, and the other Archdruids gathered at the, now shattered, barrier of light, and spoke with the Avatar of Sand. Primarily, they wanted to know what would stop him from ravaging the land if it fully dissipated.

"My, my, you do not know? I spoke once before of how evil doesn't always attack good. I also spoke once before about the fact that not all evil is alike. I stopped the Desert short of the forest before I knew myself to be opposed, and part of that is the fact that I am not a god. I am an Avatar. The difference is fundamental. Gods only have honour if they choose it, but I have it built in. You have troubles enough with the wars in the East, North and South for me in the West to add to them."

The Archdruids did not find this to be enough of a reason.

Ae spoke first. "All things come to an end, and while we fight for the continuation, everything changes. What says that you, too, will not change?"

"Put simply, my dear Ae, I can threaten this world far more thoroughly than any of the previous threats. But, even now, a great wave is rolling in from the East. The Destroyer's Head is still here. And do you not see the moon covering the sun? No matter who survives, I will persist."

"And besides, I have two rather fun games on the go at the moment. One with Esil'Dar, who has taught me much. And one with Merlyn, which I foresee an end to sooner than you think. Hear me now, Archdruids. Merlyn will use the bag of sand. I can do more than he knows."

The loss of Farael, creator of this world, sent shockwaves throughout the world. The barrier of light that kept the Black Desert out of the world fractured. The remains of the Obsidian Mountain shook. The forests mourned the loss that the world felt.

Despite the fracturing of the barrier of light, the Avatar of the Sand did not cross it. When Esil'Dar, Watcher of the Desert, questioned the Avatar of this, all that the Avatar had to say on the subject was this.

"The barrier has fractured, yes. My forcing entry into the world you know and love would, in fact, be significantly easier for me now. But, as you love to tell me, the details are what matter, and the detail in question is Merlyn. He alone holds the power to allow me past the barrier, albeit temporarily, and under conditions. I would not cause the deal I have with him and the Archdruids to be called into question. I will not breach the barrier voluntarily unless the power Merlyn has is compromised also. Besides," he adds with a smile, "your side of this... fence... seems to have it's own share of problems without me contributing to them right now."

The barrier now has visible gaps in it, but a faint glow still remains in those gaps. And, true to his word, not a grain of sand passes over the barrier.

Unfortunately, I can't drink mead. It just... goes right through me...

Sorry, I'm in the mood for bad jokes...

"I am indeed willing to learn, Esil'Dar, for you took the time to learn from me. Evidently your game is one intended for play between those with much time on their hands. And you need not be so careful around me, only the Desert itself will harm you. I made a pact with Merlyn, and I will not endanger it by breaking the terms of it ahead of time."

And the Sandman disintegrated, with a smile on his face.

Erliquin (n)(colloq.) - 1) A clown of greater social status than a mere performing clown. 2) A clown who is served custard pies nicely.

Clouhig

@The Fiend Fantastic

I would grant it if I could. #Heartbreak

@UDS

Granted, Poog locked in box and key thrown away.

The Sandman reforms on his chair, smiling.

"I didn't honestly expect this to happen, but fantastic! Of course I shall teach you! After all, with exchange of knowledge, comes understanding, tolerance, correct?"

And with this, the Sandman taught Archdruid Esil'dar how to play chess, honestly, and without malice. The Avatar of the Sands doesn't have much of an opportunity to socialize, after all. And at no point did the Avatar of Sand do anything to the Archdruid.

"And thus, we come to the end of Chess. It is a simple game to learn, but difficult to master. I would like to make a gift to you of the table and pieces. They are not sand, and thus, I have no dominion over them. Now, shall we learn this game of yours?"

Hmmm... these fools do not know who they deal with. Nevertheless, I would be wise to remain disguised, for now...

"Druids! And a Wizard! My, my, how delightful! Perhaps we should chat for a while? Do not worry, I won't come any closer!"

Another Sandman, taller, stronger built than the previous, sits on the grass just beyond the edge of the Desert. He seems attentive, and he has facial features. He is almost like a desert version of Ea, with a cloak that seems torn, a complete lack of hair, and the same calmness about him. He doesn't pay any attention to the Archdruid confronting him.

"Now, now, we shouldn't get off on the wrong foot, should we? I did stop the Desert's advance far short of the Great Forest, did I not? And I entered peacefully, without intent of harm, but you still decided to destroy my "Puppet", as you call it. This seems to be a decision you hasten to make."

As the Sandman speaks, you see some of the sand fall away and rush back to the desert. Almost like he is disintegrating? He doesn't notice.

"Now, I will leave. But I will also leave you with a choice, and I will let you make it freely. After all, you do seem to have bested me for the time being, haven't you?"

"The choice I leave is this. In the East, dark forces gather. Evil, however, doesn't necessarily attract evil, and evil doesn't necessarily attack good. If you, Merlyn, Wizard of the Archdruids, take a handful of the Black Sand, and draw a circle of sand inside a stronghold, I will come to your aid, whoever the enemy be. But, each time you do this, I will take an Archdruid from the world. If you do not take this gift, I will continue across the world, until nothing is left. If you need me, I will be waiting..."

As the sand dissipates and scurries back to the Desert, a small bag, about the right size for a belt pouch, is left. It is filled with black sand, and has 7 small emeralds in a circle around the bag. None but Merlyn can touch it, and when he does, a small beam of green light travels to each Archdruid.

That should be quite enough to be getting on with...

Given the proximity to the Great Forest that the Desert has managed to attain, it can be considered somewhat surprising that it stopped about half a mile from the treeline. Continuing to spread until everything to the west of the Great Forest is uninhabitable, the Black Desert has even destroyed such human villages as Elvenhold, the closest humans that the Elves allowed near the Forest.

Some of the sand forms into a humanoid shape. Gritty, featureless, it walks into the Great Forest. And it's heading straight for the Great Tree, almost as if it can sense the vast accumulation of moisture and life.

"Let us see how the Forest will react. This could get fun..."

We shall overcome All...

The black desert continues to move. Smaller villages were engulfed, refugees fled before the desert's rapid expansion. Within 2 years, the primary western cities of Wayrest and The Crossing had begun their descent into destruction. The river at the Crossing had presented the desert with a problem, but the river did not match the Black Desert's ability to reason. The Desert had seperately dried up it's source.

With the West's primary trade centers deserted, the Desert has created a "Dead Zone", an area of land to the west that is completely unusable. It seems that nothing can stop the expansion...

Perhaps the "Great Forest" can stop us? Somehow, I don't think so...

The idea I'm trying to evoke at the moment is that these places are so out of the way that noone that doesn't live there has heard of them. Everything seems to be going on in either central or eastern Primeva, so why would anyone pay attention to the ending of a few villages and a city far from what they consider an immediate threat? Don't worry though, things will... heat up over the next few days...

Just as soon as I find me a map...

Let the Darkness... Spread...

The inhabitants of a city to the east of the Black Desert, one of the most distant trade centers of the world, were growing alarmed. It had happened slowly at first, soil drying up, crops at the edge of fields failing, wells giving silty water. But within a few years, entire farms had been swallowed. Homes had been destroyed. People had went missing. For no discernible reason, the Black Desert had started expanding.

Patrols that went near the sand reported feeling cold despite the sun, and uneasy. Nomads who visited the edge of the desert for time away from the bustle of trade went missing. Nothing and nobody could seem to escape once they strolled near.

Eventually, the only sustainable farms near the city were on it's east side. Rivers dried up. Animals stopped foraging in the area. And, within 4 years, the city collapsed. Starving, thirsty peasants rioted. The leadership of the city, deprived of trade, penniless but for their estates in the city, left for the east. Those who stayed in the city died. Those who left never quite got over the loss they had experienced. And still, the desert advanced.

"The people will fall. Their cities will fall. The world will return to the dust from which it was made. The Black Desert will rule all..."

@Farael

The Far West. Keeps things outside the general goings on of the world for the time being. After all, 1 small settlement of Men going missing and an individual copy of a book far from large civilization centers aren't going to be noticed... right?

I did specify the Black Desert in the above section, however knowledge of location is a great help. Would you mind sending me a copy of this map as a PM? general important locations would be good. Particularly settlements and terrain around them would be helpful.

"The dunes always shift. They change. They provide no shelter, no paths. Those who cross the Black Desert do so at their peril, for getting lost is the only possible outcome.

Or so we are told.

Tales among travelers, those who live near the desert, and those who have survived tell of creatures that seem to be made of sand. Creatures who can morph their form at will. Creatures who fear fire and water. Creatures who swallow their victims, taking them into the dunes. Sometimes they appear as waves, engulfing those before it, less often they appear as animals, chasing down their prey with bare savagery. Rarest still, they appear as their prey do, taking up relics from forgotten ages that have been left in the sands.

The first confirmation of this came when a small village on the edge of the Black Desert was not heard from for weeks. When help went to see what had happened, they returned with grave news. The buildings had vanished. The people had vanished. And a fine layer of sand covered the grasslands that the villagers had once called home.

The Desert is spreading."

Told in "Dangers of the De...".
The rest seems to have been scraped away, and a few grains of sand are still lodged in the cover.

5d6 + 72 ⇒ (5, 3, 4, 2, 2) + 72 = 88

Time to shake things up, being the young whippersnapper that I am...

Command Race (4) - Reveal Oneself

Create Avatar (7) - Tornadon

Command Avatar (1) - Tornadon, Go!

Advance Civilization (5) - "Holy..."

Shape Climate (4) - Little Bright Up Here

Used - 38
Stockpile left - 50

Feathered Serpentfolk

5d6 ⇒ (2, 2, 5, 1, 2) = 12

Advance Race (5) - Linguistics

As a race, the Aerodon have no need for language communication beyond warnings and basic information sharing. However, this back and forth of information eventually caused the species to create a standardised set of sounds and respective meanings to be shared among each other. As their audio capacity is quite considerable, this brings with it the ability to learn and master many different languages - which the race does not know exist...

Change Climate (4) - Tile 14 - Return to tundra like mountains

In the aftermath of the cataclysm, the first places to recover from the ice sheets are in the upper atmosphere. The great, grinding Glaciers of the mountainous region due East of Ho'Ka'i'do lose more and more moisture to the biting winds, eventually melting almost entirely. As a result, the Aerodon begin to experience the mixed feelings being outside brings - initially the Aerodon fear the endless sky, a feeling they are not used to...

Stockpile (3)

5d6 ⇒ (3, 4, 1, 4, 4) = 16

Create Race (6) - Tile 14

Aerodon

When the world became cold, the vast majority of land based life died out. As with any mass extinction, new creatures move in to fill the void. The Aerodon were once batlike, small, blind animals with little to no organisational structure. During the big freeze, however, only the more intelligent, communal Aerodon survived. Continually evolving, rapidly growing in size to adapt to the Apocalyptic conditions, they eventually gained sentience. Covered in layers of hollow fur, with strong muscles and an ability to eat almost anything, the remaining Aerodon are masters of changing to suit the terrain.

Advance Race (5) - Echolocation

Finding that the ice reflected sound in a controlled manner, some Aerodon found that they could know where they were even in flight, by making small noises and receiving the feedback. This allowed controlled flight even in tight spaces, no longer requiring the Aerodon to crawl everywhere to avoid harm via hitting a wall.

Advance Race (5) - SuperAudio Network

Due to the advanced audio capabilities of this race, and the rather unforgiving nature of life during the Snowball, the Aerodon managed to work out a method by which they could swiftly communicate threats, information, and even idle chatter to each other. By utilising nearly focused "beams" of sound, information could be communicated silently to nearby Aerodon. This essentially means that relevant information, once received and broadcast, becomes part of each individual's knowledge.

Stockpile (0)