*stares into a mysterious hole in the ground* Next Poster, tell me: What is 27th-best in life?
"The oldest emotion is fear,
Still upon cloven hooves It walks,
Yet kings and commoners alike,
And ye, those few who stand apart,
For lo!, the days are hastening on,
Source: You're looking at it.
{Hold your breath
Come with me and you'll be
We'll begin with a spin
If you want to view paradise
There is no life I know
If you want to view paradise
There is no life I know
deity God of the Unknown
I've been struggling with my personal problems that have been impeding my writing and ability to take initiative, as well as having a LOT of other games going on at the same time (including my first Pbp DMing gig). I think this is a great game we've set up, but stars are clearly falling from the heavens like flies, and others of us are clearly kind of fatigued. We should probably put this in the freezer - I don't appear to be up to the challenge at the moment, much as I'd love to be, but I'd hate for this all to end with a whimper like this. I agree with Scrapeknee that losing the original DM, and what sounded like a very interesting and well thought-out original plot, was an unwelcome loss. Maybe we can try getting back in the saddle if she can claw her way back to Internet access.
deity God of the Unknown
I noticed the lull myself. Pretty incongruous after the initial surge I could barely keep up with. I was wondering what was going on. What does "GoCF" stand for? "It means," Vortae replies. "Our little joyride might actually be bit more of a challenge." Over on the other edge of the Imperium, something came out of the void: What looked like a set of wind chimes, the size of a moon, its eerie song somehow audible out to a light-year away. It was the great monster Tintonbulon, servant of Vortae. As it approached the Mchedeli system, home to three Imperium colonized worlds, four uninhabitable worlds and gas giants used for mining, the military shipyards for which it was known began to go haywire at the sound; soldiers went mad with vertigo, guidance systems were scrambled, and ships began moving about wildly and crashing into each other.
deity God of the Unknown
Meanwhile in Hell, the Odradek sags and sniffles slightly, apparently having nothing to show for its journey. It turns to the infernal horizon, leans on another side, then begins spinning in place at an increasingly rapid pace before releasing its momentum to jet off into the Unknown.
deity God of the Unknown
Vortae's shoulder billows when struck as though there's nothing underneath the cloth, then returns to its typical precipice-like and somewhat hunched shape. Vortae serenely consumes another large spoonful of clam chowder, and responds, "Four strikes me as the right number - and My ideal tertiary and quaternary candidates would be Scrapeknee and Zodaxus." "They're accustomed to call themselves simply the Imperium; they are, in the main, human, and treat other races inequitably at best; they fight, I suppose, because it is their lifeblood to do so; their weapons are far in advance of most - cheap and reliable laser weapons, highly advanced ballistic firearms, brutal mechanized melee weapons, plasma cannons, combat automatons, that sort of thing. Their magical prowess, on the other hand, is embarrassingly poor for a culture of their age and might - hardly surprising since they're more interested in destroying most forms of magical knowledge they discover, a sin I take PERSONALLY! That, of course, will give Us a massive advantage - did I ever mention I enjoy punishing stupidity?" What looks like a bright crescent moon can briefly be seen in the depths of Vortae's hood.
deity God of the Unknown
Please understand, folks: I really don't want to bail on this game, but I've been tempted to - the reason being that, for whatever reason, I've had a hard time finding Vortae's 'voice' and knowing what to do. I'm feeling kind of bad about not being able to post more. I did just Start Something, as you can see, but it would be helpful to me if others came to me with things. I'm afraid I'm much more practiced at reacting than initiating things (perhaps because I have "Eye of Kalem'Darr Syndrome," if you recall my meaning).
deity God of the Unknown
Babaki wrote:
Vortae considers for a moment, unable to shake the incongruity of the Laughing Man's subdued behavior. "There is something, I think: I could use Your help. There is a powerful civilization, a spacefaring empire that has managed to conquer a truly impressive number of worlds over the course of a few dozen millennia. For all its power and age, it's spectacularly unenlightened, and its preoccupation with Order has only intensified exponentially. They're now poised on developing reliable mass planar travel, and they will use it to strike at Our realms - and We cannot permit them to discover the secrets of pocket universe construction, which they almost certainly would have if they weren't so sanctimonious and stupid. It's all become something of a cancer, and I say it's high time it was pruned. I was thinking their ongoing War On Chaos - yes, they actually call it that, if You can believe it - is worth You and I and a few other Chaos gods forming a coalition of Our forces for an enjoyable excursion of liberation, discovery, and vengeance." Am I ripping off WARHAMMER 40,000? Yes, yes I am.
deity God of the Unknown
Babaki wrote: Babaki looks up from his plate of meat, a slab of pork hanging out of his mouth. He swallows it own hard, before speaking. "Ah, hello there Vortae! The Abyss is splendid, as always. I swear, The Carnival looks better every time I look at it!" "That's quite something," Vortae finally responds, the Lonely One's conversation skills not being the best in the pantheon. Vortae's head tilts sideways at an odd angle, as though studying Babaki. He's keeping something hidden, He thinks to Himself. What could He possibly feel the need to hide from Me? 'Bashful' is one thing I never took Him of all gods for.
deity God of the Unknown
From out of the soot-choked Avernian sky came a near-vertical bridge of violet fire, finding purchase a few yards from Moloch's feet. Down it tumbles a bizarre creature - seemingly more object than creature, really - like a giant spool of omnicolored thread, with any number of protrusions and odd mechanisms of unclear purpose jutting from it. It is the Odradek, Herald of Vortae. "Serve the Forgotten One," It says in a childlike voice. "and be relieved of Hell's chains. You shall be patron of solar flares, pyromancy, and, I think, betrayal - both those who are betrayed and those who betray, for you have now learned the vice of loyalty, too, have you not?" Back in Zodaxus's Realm, Vortae approaches Babaki, taking a bowl of clam chowder from the buffet. "How fares the Abyss?"
deity God of the Unknown
Michazra wrote:
How about a single solar system's worth of worlds, some much more populous and developed than others? Good compromise? Distant Worlds is one of the best things Paizo's ever published....
deity God of the Unknown
I created Azruverda and Silthilar (from 3.5's Lords of Madness). I'd also like to say I created Beholders, and that they're Chaotic Neutral in our universe. I also invented the Dyson sphere, even though no mortal may have come across or built one yet - secret knowledge, you see?
deity God of the Unknown
It was pretty good for a while, and had a brilliant premise, but then they started settling into a groove and emphasizing the wrong elements, and worst of all, the art styles all blended together. What it left me with, however, was an inspiration for a TORG TV show (having been introduced to that game much more recently) where every cosm and it's inhabitants are done in radically different art and animation styles, and things happen like characters suddenly flipping from one art style to another when they disconnect from their home reality.
deity God of the Unknown
So, as has been observed, we've got no weather/elemental gods, no Neutral Neutral gods (!!!), and we're missing a few other staples besides. We've got no explicit war gods, for example - a few who kinda border on that, but no, you know "war gods." Agricultural and civic gods are in a similar position. Maybe we want to chariot in a couple more gods, somehow? Would it be too much for us to have, like, one "alt" each? *asks for Ghaunadaur in the weirdest letter to Santa Claus ever*
deity God of the Unknown
Tharros, God of Decay wrote:
It could be your little version of the Blood War.
deity God of the Unknown
"You make it all sound so bleak," Vortae says absentmindedly as It extends a hand like that of an ancient statue of some alien stone into the heart of Atheos' good friend Nothing. It twists Its arm about, as though working hard at something inside. Suddenly, a MASSIVE explosion, brighter than a thousand suns and more colorful than Zodaxus' most recent acid trip, envelopes the foyer. Suddenly, the explosion recedes in on itself until finally spiraling harmlessly into Vortae's hood, revealing that Atheos's guest is no longer there, and in its place are no fewer than 5 things that were not there before: A 3-toed sloth with 8 limbs and powdered semiprecious stones for fur, a starfish the size of a horse wearing a strange circular saddle, an elaborate lava lamp shaped like a Ouija table that runs on a tiny fusion core somewhere deep within, a small stack of famous history books from various worlds reshaped into readable sphere form, and a sapient bowl of salad wearing a monocle and smoking jacket. As the crowd erupts into deafening applause, Vortae turns to Atheos and consumes Its shrimp cocktail idly. "I think you still have much to learn, Godling."
deity God of the Unknown
Vortae stood in the foyer, rather confused and overwhelmed. Even surrounded by countless people, It managed to be alone. Why did I come here, again? It wondered to Itself. I'm hardly any good at these things. Then It noticed that someone or something had reorganized the contents of part of the buffet table into a kind of primitive mechanical dragon that projectile-vomited shrimp cocktails. As ever, the infallible answer: Why not? Vortae wandered the palace, not really caring where It was going, and winding Its way through the art gallery, the aquarium, the arcade, the carpenter's walk, and the Grand Banana Room before finding Itself back in the foyer, and finding itself in some very old and familiar company...that of Nothing. Vortae appeared abruptly behind Atheos, a fresh shrimp cocktail in Its hand. "I'll play your game: Tell Me about your guest. Of course, it pales in comparison to My guest...." Vortae had come alone.
deity God of the Unknown
Atheos, God of Skepticism wrote:
Oh! Oh! I want the Quasielemental Planes that come from the interactions of the 4 elements with the 2 energies back! I love those!
deity God of the Unknown
Hold on there. The Beastlands is the "Good, slightly Chaotic" plane from the PLANESCAPE setting (and primary D&D cosmology), but I don't think it shows up in the Forgotten Realms cosmology at all - what it's got for CG planes is Arvandor (home of the Seldarine), Brightwater (home of deities like Lliira and Tymora - would be good for Zodaxus), and House of the Moon (Selune's realm - I think that's what it's called). Abaddon is the Golarion setting's NE plane, but I think the other LE gods would be better off in other LE planes, like (to follow PLANESCAPE's venerable lead) Acheron and Gehenna. Of course, if we were to do that, we'd want to expand all the planes out in the PLANESCAPE fashion of "border planes that are very this but also a little that." Also, speaking of "forgotten realms," maybe you want to mention that there's a funny little walled-off section somewhere in there...? ;)
deity God of the Unknown
Geschwind watched with the other clerics as today's catch of heretics were burned alive, to the cheers and jeers of the faithful. There were four of them this time; an entire family. The father had been one of the most respected theologians at the Grand Seminary, until a proscribed text - not just any proscribed text, but the infamous Codex Indigo - had been discovered in his home, and the conspiracy rumors that he had been lacing his lectures with secret messages to attract "fellow travelers" to a secret cult of heretical magicians, once considered so scandalous and malicious that those who spread them were tortured and imprisoned, had all been proven true. Geschwind thanked the Lord for sparing him such a fate. He had been like that, once. Yet it was all so taxing; so many of the people who'd been put to the torch had once been his closest friends, and some of the most interesting people he'd ever known, while some stubborn part of him had grown sick of the monotonous theology of his peers and the vapid banality of most of his flock. That part was just an annoyance now, an old ache kept there to test his faith and keep it honed. Now in sight of the Grand Seminary, he looked at what he'd helped to create; he'd taken the right side when it mattered, right? It didn't matter now; the choice had been made, and the past was past. As was his habit, he took a walk through the gardens to meditate and ease his mind. He preferred the parts further afield where most people didn't bother to go, which was why he was surprised to find someone else there this time. He couldn't tell who it was; they were wearing a heavy cloak, and were standing there contemplating an incongruous shallow pit of bare soil. Geschwind tried being sociable, walking up to them and sharing their contemplation of the little pit. "Are you the gardener, perhaps? Looks like something new's about to be planted there." "Perhaps. I'm not sure what to put there. Any ideas?" "Oh, heavens, I don't know; something pretty. I'm not very creative." "Aren't you? You used to be." Geschwind was taken aback by this. This was definitely true. The years had worn away his mind. He'd just assumed it was part of growing up. But how did...this person know? "I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name - who are you? These gardens aren't open to everyone, you know." He smiled uncomfortably. "I'm a Priest of the Fifth Circle, you know, and I'd be failing at my job rather badly if I didn't enforce basic rules." "I don't like your rules." Geschwind's jaw dropped. Had this person REALLY just said that? Right here in the gardens of the Grand Seminary? He'd seen people killed on the spot for lesser shows of disrespect. This was hallowed ground. To be here was a great privilege and some of his peers were quite zealous in enforcing piety. Geschwind had always been of the gentler streak, but something HAD to be done. He shouted a prayer of death upon the defiler. What happened next was rather traumatic. The shallow earthen pit they'd been staring into suddenly deepened, and Geschwind's damning words seemed to be sucked into it, as though by some creature underneath that fed on incantations. Then, something started growing from it at an unnatural pace. The smell of rotting flesh began emanating from the hole as a large, hideous flower sprang out of it and slammed Geschwind right in the face, knocking him to the ground. Coming back to his senses after a split-second, he looked up at the huge, reeking flower bobbing over him; at the center of its garish red leaves was his own face. Was this really his face? He'd seen it in the mirror this morning, but it struck him now how old and ugly he'd become. For the first time in their interaction, the cloaked figure moved, peering over the hideous flower and looking down at Geschwind. Even though he was now looking right into the person's hood, and it was clearest daylight, he couldn't see their face - just unending blackness. "I don't think you like your rules, either." Geschwind was horrorstruck; he couldn't fight the old, stubborn voice now screaming inside him; this was true, too. He stood up slowly, the hideous flower receding into the ground as he did so. "This is a pleasant enough garden; walk with me a while." Numb with horror and confusion, Geschwind did. Even though Geshwind had walked these gardens more times than he could count, he had never seen the places he was being led; in fact, he knew that, given the layout and size of the place, these avenues, increasingly wild in their flora and unfamiliar in their architecture, could not possibly be here. Still, they walked. It felt like a dream to Geschwind, his senses increasingly distorted, yet increasingly clear, his steps becoming increasingly light, the daylight around them rapidly darkening to dusk. Geschwind slowly realized that it hadn't been his senses distorting so much as it had indeed been the world around them, as they finally came to a dark stone staircase and descended it. When they finally reached the bottom, Geschwind was struck with an overwhelming shock of memory. He was in a small, candlelit room filled with books. "I remember this. This was my old cell when I was young. All these books should have been burned. How could they...." It was then that Geschwind realized that he was alone. Not only that, but there was something dissonant in his voice as he spoke. He went over to his old mirror, just where it had been decades ago. Everything was as it had been decades ago - even Geschwind. He was young again. He realized which night this was, now. The layout of his books, the lingering smells from his empty dinner plate - this was the night he'd made his choice not to go through with his plan. He'd made that choice because he feared the destruction and uncertainty that would come of going forward with it. He'd seen what had become of his making what had looked like the safe, sane, and humane choice. This time he'd make the other one. He grabbed a few of his books, and using one of the simpler tricks he'd learned from them, made himself invisible, and made his way to the old cathedral where the meeting that would come to be known as the Synod of Founding Faith was being held. As he'd planned all those years ago - no, just a week or two ago - he hid under the altar as the church leaders and hundreds of loyal followers excitedly discussed their plans to return a world in chaos to its traditional order. Geschwind worked his spell. The cathedral exploded in a storm of eldritch black wind, and all inside, save Geschwind, were reduced to dust. He looked up at the night sky. It was difficult to see - but there was hope in it.
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