Deific Game Thread


New member
Nov 24, 2012
Long ago, as the age of man was just beginning, humanity's desire to believe in something greater wrought forth ethereal beings. These concepts, given form and strength by the faith of man, had the power to shape the world as they saw fit. They came into the world as all others, weak and screaming, but within each is infinite potential to grow. Two such groups of these spirits, young and full of potential, had been drawn to two separate human settlements, where they will test their influence on mortals and each other. In time, their fates will intertwine. But in this moment in time, they are too fresh to spread their influence further.

To begin the game, the players will be split into two groups, each working within a different, small, and very basic village. As the game goes on, the size of the world will increase, but for now, 12 spirits in one village is far too congested. Below you will find the group make-ups.

Group 1:
Belmarc - Syllus
booksv2 - Nadur
Dogmatic99 - Sang'regel
Reudyn - The Reaper
Mestizaje - Seras

Group 2:
Arrogancy - Farenal
Rogue Trooper - Evander
Emperor Zuma - Trae
Deu Sex - Obsidian Articifer
DarkRawen - Gyll
Terratina. - Meinir

We understand it's a little unorthodox but it will only last through the first age. Please remember who is in your village.

For posting format, it would be helpful if you posted the name of the character and how much AP/MP they have remaining in bold at the top of every segment involving them. The benefits of this become more apparent as you gain Champions or write for mortals and have more characters you might be using in one post.
Any actions taken should be summed up in a spoiler at the bottom of the post, as well as the domains you are attempting to apply to the action. If more than one of your characters are in the post, please specify which one or ones are making the actions and separate them by name.

We look forward to seeing how you choose to shape your part of the world. Good luck and have fun.

Actions and difficulty:


Assist/Hinder: A spirit may assist another spirit with an action (including an attack), adding their domains to the action, which can ensure success.The assisting spirit must pay an additional half the action?s AP cost (rounded up) and may only use half their relevant domains? strength in the action. Relevant domains will be determined by the GMs. Hindering, negatively affecting the action, is done in a similar manner. Relevant domain strength is also halved (rounded up). [No assisting or hindering can occur with overlapping pantheons i.e. your spirit cannot be assisted by their champion, and two of your champions cannot assist the same spirit/champion.]

Avatar: The physical form you manifest as. Only assume one avatar at a time, but can be nearly anything. Never changes your true form, and other spirits and Champions can always see past any avatar form you take on to see the true self.

Bless- A lasting positive action performed on a mortal or group of mortals.

Create Magic Item (Mortal scale)- These act as D&D magic items. From everlasting chalk to a Handy Haversack to a tricked out Vorpal sword, even the most powerful of these cannot be used to harm spirits or Champions except in extensively-discussed GM-sanctioned unlikely events.

Create Race (non-sentient)- Whether it be large medium or small, please be pretty clear about it's form and habits. Carnivorous rabbits or beetles the size of a T-Rex for example.

Curse- A lasting negative action performed on a mortal or group of mortals.

Enchant: A sustained magical effect over an area.

Forge Magic Item(Ranked 1-2): Through increasingly considerable costs and effort you forge a magic item capable of wielding a fraction of the power of the spirits. Please think carefully about these.

Inspire- A lasting change to the way of thinking of a mortal or group of mortals. Teach actions fall under this Keyword in the absence of other mechanics to handle them.*

Scry- To use divine senses and powers to search over an area.
Note: Please ask 1-4 clear, concise questions you hope to have answered by the scry.

Break: Breaking or undoing an action (curse/bless/enchant) requires a roll equal to the roll used to create that given blessing/curse/enchantment.

Effortless: no roll, not counted as actions
-Conjure up a small quantity of anything
-Listen in on mortal prayers to you.
-Talk to someone(across any distance if known or scried or receive prayers from.)
-Talk to another spirit(across any distance)
-Take on a physical avatar.(spirits may only possess one avatar at a time)

Difficulty: 5 Local Action Cost: 1 AP
-Affect(Bless/Curse/Inspire) a single mortal for the term of their natural life
-Enchant/Scry an area the size of a large room.
-Identify a magic item in your possession; required to register a ranked item for use, and must be done every time another spirit or champion does this to the item.

Difficulty: 7 Village Action Cost: 2 AP
-Affect(Bless/Curse/Inspire) a small group of mortals (less than 50) for life
-Enchant/Scry an area the size of a village or neighborhood.
-Create one Heroic-tier sacred relic.
-Creating or altering a single non-sentient creature smaller than an elephant.

Difficulty: 9 Town Action Cost 3 AP
-Affect(Bless/Curse/Inspire) a large group of mortals(500) for life.
-Enchant/Scry an area the size of a town or small city
-Create a Paragon-tier sacred relic.
-Creating or altering a one-off living creature bigger than a blue whale.
-Creating or altering a non-sentient species smaller than an elephant.

Difficulty: 11 Area Action Cost 4 AP
-Affect (Bless/Curse/Inspire) a very large group of mortals(2000) for life.
-Enchant/Scry an area the side of a Large City or a town and surrounding countryside.
-Create an Epic-tier sacred relic.
-Creating or altering a non-sentient species larger than an elephant.
-Start a covenant. Create a religious order that follows a set of ideals based on the principles of your god. (Must explain how this relates to your god and must be cleared by a GM)
-Grant genuine immortality and invulnerability to a single mortal. They will gain the quality Immortal +0 as long as their spirit still lives. This does not include superpowers (eg the ability to break out of a prison cell) Nor are they immune to attack by other spirits or mortals with ranked items.

Difficulty: 13 Regional Action Cost: 5 AP
-Affect (Bless/Curse/Inspire) a huge amount of mortals(5000) for the rest of their lives.
-Enchant/Scry an area of many towns or a metropolis or small Kingdom.
-Forge a +1 Magic Item

*Note: All spirits are aware of DC 15 and above actions, regardless of last recorded location, with very few exceptions.*
Difficulty: 15 Continental Action Cost: 6 AP
-Affect (Bless/Curse/Inspire) an entire race or civilization.
-Enchant/Scry a large area of the game world.
-Forge a +2 Magic item (see Item Forging)
-Turn a mortal or creature into a Champion [Champions begin as +2 Domain, -2 Drawback in the first age of their creation. Second age they become +4 Domain, -2 Drawback and remain so for the duration of the game](Limit 3 Spirits per spirit, is controlled by patron player. Quality and Drawback must be approved by GM)
-Introduce a major change to the world's structure or its atmosphere without causing any lasting damage to the world (eg adding a new moon, new islands etc)

Difficulty: 17 World Action Cost: 7 AP
-Affect (Bless/Curse/Inspire) the entire world(Other players will likely take issue with this)

Difficulty: 19 Planar Action Cost: 2 MP
-Imprison target PC (Note: This is a highly contentious action and must be cleared with GM before even undertaken. Do so at your own peril [Secondary Note: Mythic Point bonus is not factored in Planar Actions] Mythic Point cost can be shared amongst two players)

*A note on actions: if a spirit?s last recorded location is within the area you are affecting, they will be able to notice. If you wish to make an exception to this rule, please talk to the GM or player.*

Item Forging:
Note: Only 1 Ranked item may be forged per age by a player.

Difficulty: 13
Forging a +1 Item
Easier ranked item to create, but perhaps a bit lofty of an aspiration for a fledgling spirit. Forges it magically from the aether. Item can be destroyed by another spirit. Can also reforge a +1 item to a +2 with the same conditions(see below)

Difficulty: 15
Forging a +2 Item
More difficult ranked item. Forged in a similar manner to a +1 item, but requiring the spirit to draw on and work with more aether.
AP (Action Points)


Name: Farenal

True Appearance: A graying old man in dark robes. He carries a tall white staff. He has a beard neatly trimmed and cool gray-blue eyes. While old in appearance, Farenal gives off an air of wisdom rather than frailty. Age comes with respect and dignity.

Personality: Hard but fair, Farenal is one to set a standard and hold everyone to it. He will uphold order and decorum to the best of his ability, and scorns those who dismiss such. That said, Farenal is also one who engages in building order as well as maintaining it, he enjoys lively debate about how to structure the world, and the interactions between the spirits.

Domains (Prospective):

+6 Justice (initial +4)- Farenal is able to act in the interests of justice and create orders and systems that create and uphold this ideal.

+4 Strength- Farenal understands that strength is a necessary component of creating order. Strength must come first for peace and order to follow, and Farenal can bless and empower his followers, lending his strength to theirs.

+2 Chivalry- Power cannot be unrestrained. It must be disciplined, and held to standards. It must be controlled and principled. It must be chivalric.


-2 Chaos- The antithesis of order, and the harbinger of destruction and anarchy. Farenal hates chaos and its evils with the fiber of his being.

Name: Syllus

Gender: Male

(True) Appearance: Short, proportionally equivalent to 5'6". Thin frame, pale, and swathed in a cloak of shifting shadows. His eyes are gold with black sclera and hair like raven feathers. His grin is wolfish, and all four of his canines are slightly larger and sharper than the average human. His movements are fluid.
(Note: Once he obtains Vengeance as a domain, his cloak can change into a pair of wings.)

Personality: Secretive, but not always quiet. Good at talking around a subject. Selective about friends and close relationships, but extremely loyal to those he chooses. Cares deeply about devout followers, and takes care of those praying for his aid from the shadows. Hold onto grudges and seeks out retribution when the opportunity arises.

Domains: +6 Shadow: Shadows are caught between light and true darkness, being banished or swallowed by either, and requiring both to survive. It is between these two worlds that Syllus has domain, allowing him to manipulate shadows and see what hides there, either to protect it or expose it. Extends into a figurative sense, capable of affecting and looking into the shadows in people's hearts.

+4 Vengeance: Syllus is the symbol of the avenger, and aids those who take this mantel. He seeks out retribution for those that have sinned against him and his folk.

+2 Kinship: Syllus holds domain over the bonds that hold beings together, particularly those that go beyond genetic relation. Those that huddled under his shadow cloak are his family.

Drawback: -2 Fire: The flickering light of a fire makes dancing shadows that are useless for hiding. Man uses this element to cut through the darkness and prolong light's reign, and to find things that would rather stay unfound. Syllus finds himself at a loss with how to work with it.

Name: Evander

Gender: Male

(True) Appearance: Tall, thin muscular build, standing at a height of around 6?1?. Has a tanned complexion and is seen equipped with bronze; greaves, Cuirass and helmet along with a blue embroidered vest, which is worn under his cuirass. His eyes are brown which match his dark brown hair. Evander constantly has a sad agitated look on his face; the sort of look that a person would get following the aftermath of a great battle or the loss of a loved one. His look is supported by his dirty and blood appearance which strengthens the fact that he appears to have walked straight off of a battlefield. Along with his armour, Evander carries a bundle of javelins and a large oval shaped shield.

Personality: Somber and reflective, with an emotional almost philosophical outlook on the many actions and events which take place within the world. Protects his followers and those that beseech his help with a caring fatherly nature, he will go to any lengths to ensure that they are protected from harm. Also has a liking to the use of javelins, which has resulted in it becoming the signature weapon of his followers.

Domains: +6 Protection: Evander has become the symbol of protection within the world and will offer his protection to those that worship him. He will protect his followers from violence, diseases, misfortune and anything else that may appear.

+4 Sorrow: An emotional spirit, Evander will seek to comfort those who have lost something dear to them in this world and will watch over them, until they can continue on their own.

+2 Strength: While a protector, Evander sees that having strength, may that be physical or mental can overcome and even prevent loss of any kind. His followers that are Soldiers often pray to him for strength in their duties.

Drawback: -2 Murder: A task that Evander cannot do or condone. In his eyes, murder is a selfless act that only brings pain. Anyone who does such a thing deserves to be looked down upon.

Name: Trae

Gender: Male

(True) Appearance: A literal embodiment of his domain, Trae appears as a living tree. He is able to move, though slowly, but he can also take root and meld with his surroundings in times of dormancy or meditation.

Note: The more powerful he gets, the larger Trae grows, until finally he is large enough to support an ecosystem on his own back.

Personality: Consistent, methodical, and slow, Trae marches ever onward toward his goal. He seeks to understand before taking drastic action, but will move towards his end objective at a constant pace. He bares no ill will towards his enemies, nor special fondness for his followers or creations, as existence is a constant battle for survival.


Nature [+4 (12)]- The wild and the domesticated, the wielded and the untamed, what grows, flourishes, and eventually dies, this is the domain of nature. It can be seen as what gives the world beauty, or is the grime that eats away at the more fundamental forces. It can be as peaceful as a meadow, where the blooming flowers inspire those that look upon them; or as violent as the jungle, where everything works to win the eternal competition for survival. Strive to thrive, evolve to survive, and, despite everything, live.


Civilization [-2]- Being entirely a human invention, Trae knows little about it; and even when he can understand a small portion of it, the humans then go about changing it! Because of this, Trae is always behind the curve, and can do little to help the humans adjust their own system to his/their benefit.

Name: Sang'regel "The Sweet Lady"
Gender: Female

(True)Appearance: Her true form is a hunched and scuttling creature with a wild and matted mane of red and white hair flowing behind her like a tail sprouting from her scalp. Sang's skin is grey and resembles something between craggy rock and battered iron, separated into segments as if it was banded armour. Her limbs and spine are lined with thorn like spikes that meet at the nape of her neck and run up the side of her harsh and angular face. Her features are sharp and haggard, with deep sunken black eyes and rows of razor sharp teeth.

(Note) As she becomes more used to people Sang'regel will start taking on a more human form, at least while people can see her. Her human form will look just as witch and crone like as her true form. As she grows in power both forms will begin to look taller and more beautiful (in her human form's case).

Personality: Sang prefers to lurk in the shadows and shirks responsibility and care of her works, despite being very possessive and demanding of them. She watches and studies the strange human things that brought her into being, finding their endless ambitions fascinating and thoroughly entertaining. Sang is drawn to civilization and bloodshed, the fight for survival against nature has no real allure to her, she prefers the flash of blades and the slow crawl of poison, as grand designs and schemes come together like the threads of an intricate tapestry or the broad strokes of a luscious painting. Sang'regel sees all these Machiavellian things as one great show, drinking them in as her own pleasures, finding enjoyment in mortal success and failures.


+4 Murder/Assassination (starter) - Sometimes it's a done in the heat of the moment, as a crime of passion. Other times it's a cold and calculated strike in the dark. Others may fool themselves into believing that they fight for honour or higher causes but Sang'regel knows better. The first time man drew the blood of his brother was out of pure rage and blood lust and they have loved that feeling ever since.

+4 Blood Magic - As Sang becomes more comfortable and refined in her ways she begins to experiment with her power and the tributes she claims from her mortal acolytes. Blood magic is fueled by the life force of the user or an unlucky sacrifice. It's often used to enhance the user's own body or to ravage the flesh of another. The toll it takes on the user does not make it something to be used lightly.

+4 Domination - The ability to kill as you please is the ultimate sign of strength! And the strong will do as they please. All empires are made in blood and all order comes at a price, civilization exists because the strong minority can keep the weak majority in line. Willing or not.


-2 Life - Sang'regel was born in the death cries of humans, her existence is one of murder and the manipulating of those that she finds. She has no place in the giving of life and has little skill when it comes to creating living creatures of her own design, let alone sustaining them.

<spoiler=Seras - Mestizaje>Name: Seras, Miss Fortune

Gender: Female

(True) Appearance:


Seras often appears to mortals as a see-through illusion, which can be difficult to determine if it's actually there or not. Her true appearance is that of a queen with flowing black hair, jewelry and a large crown on her head. She wears an exquisite dress that's been torn, and now reveals plenty of her skin. Where the dress has been torn and skin revealed she has scars, remnants of wounds she may have sustained once. She has leather boots with high heels, and carries a scepter that glows pink and blue. The scepter doesn't serve any real purpose yet other than adding to her royal appearance.

Seras is tall, and will always attempt to appear taller than anyone else, even if it means she has to change her height with the use of her powers. She likes looking down on people, and has cruel, calculating eyes.

Personality: Seras is subtle, manipulative, and prefers to remain in her own domain of dreams. In reality she'd just be an illusion, a rumour of what someone may have seen, but with no facts to back such a tale up. She's the recurring nightmare that gives people insomnia and keeps them up for nights on end. She's the inspiration an artist or inventor may have found in their dreams. She enjoys causing strife and mischief, and have no compassion for the mortal beings. Seras can inspire people at times, but she'd often have an agenda for it or expect something in return for such an act.

She's got a royal attitude to her, thinking herself superior and smarter than most, with little patience for others. She'd not make a good leader if she'd been one, as she is indifferent, snobbish and cruel. Seras could get along with others, and even make friends, but she'd hope to get something out of it in turn.

+4 Dreams (Starter): Seras' main domain is that of dreams, where she can create anything, inspire anyone and make even the bravest fear her. She affects reality by showing mortals visions in their dreams to make them act like she wants them too. The visions may be benefitial for them, or threatening and show them what they hold dear destroyed. The visions do not need to come real, as long as the mortals believe they will.

+4 Psionics: Seras possesses powerful psychic abilites, which allows her to see into the minds of mortals, affect their emotions and thoughts for example. However, it can also be used to tamper with reality, the one perceived by an individual, or to make more permanent changes that would seem to defy any logic. It can be an effective offense and defense too. She has a penchant for illusions and hallucinations.

+4 War: Seras enjoys wars, especially causing mortals to go to war over petty excuses. To her, it's among the greatest things she can accomplish with the use of her psionics and dreams. Making a leader dream that another country is marching an army on them, when they're sending a peace envoy, can be quite entertaining. She can help the mortals advance their technology for war, if she wants too. Warriors may pray to her for aid, but the results may vary.

-2 Luck. As Seras finds it more fun to revel in the despair and misfortune of mortals, she sees no reason to help anyone with their luck or lot in life. If anything she might make their situation worse instead of better, so praying to her for an improvement in ones luck or life is a rather bad idea.

Name: Meinir, The Smiling Sculptor

Gender: Female

(True) Appearance: Meinir has a rather strange appearance. Her eyes are as empty as the grin she bears on that face, which is nothing but a few features on a smooth, flesh-pink head. It is quite obvious that her form has nothing to do whatsoever with her gender as it lacks all sexual characteristics. If mortals didn't know any better, they would call Meinir a homunculus - an artificial being without soul. However, this is not the case. Meinir's flesh seems to have an almost elastic-like quality. It can stretch and shrink to form any shape found in nature. Although Meinir hides the majority of her form under a simple robe, she does not bother to hide the twist and turns of form her appendages constantly go through.

Personality: Some spirits revel in their power, others are more sorrowful but Meinir takes pride in her work. Born out of the innate human desire to create, Meinir is in her element whenever she is crafting another work of art. As expected from this, she hates stagnation. The spirits who are simply happy to lord above humans are wasting their gift of power and the mortals who mirror that idleness blacken the name of human ingenuity. Most of the time, Meinir is serene, treating her creations and her followers like her own children, however, that doesn't mean she isn't afraid to shake things up! Either while on a creative high or low of solemn anger, she can be a force to reckon with.


Flesh[footnote]Starter Domain.[/footnote] [+4]: What better domain is there than that which lets one control the fleshly prisons of mortals? With this domain, Meinir can bend flesh to her will. She can even conjure flesh or beings of meat lest the supplies already present on the world seem lacking. With flesh, beasts see food but all Meinir sees is a bit of clay she can sculpt to her will.

Madness [+6]: They say there is a thin line between genius and madness, and this goes doubly so for the creative types. Meinir is rather fortunate in the fact that she can share her own madness with others, sometimes giving fellow artists a boon to their imagination, so to speak. In addition to that, the power of madness can also extend to enchantments as well.

Art [+2]: From time immemorial, humans have always expressed themselves with one form of art or another. Meinir, as stated before was created from the innate human desire to create. With this domain, Meinir can create and bestow a blessing of creatively on others or even inspire them to create great works.


High Tech [-2]: Meinir cares little for the sciences and technology. She sees little point in them since why build tools of unliving stone and metal when she can simply change the fleshy forms of herself or mortals to do the job? In order words, she is too proud to admit that the complexness of high-tech machinery confuse her, causing her to reject it.





(True) Appearance:

Gyll looks like a rather beautiful and tall human wearing an attire that looks like flower petals and leaves covered in gold and pearls. In truth, however, these are a part of his body, and cannot be removed without harming him. His appearance tend to easily draw attention to him, and he often appears to be shining.


Gyll is the kind of spirit that will try to stay on as many people's good side as possible. He's friendly, has a sense of humour and aims to please. That is, as long as you don't stand in the way of what he wants. Gyll is greedy and without restrains once he finds a target he wants, be it gold or something else of worth, like information. He's fond of trading and building connections, though he'll easily enough break those apart should he need to. That said, he does have a sense of loyalty, and will often offer his help to whoever he prefers without any real gain for him.


[+4] (Starter) Wealth:

Gyll has always managed to find and create material worth wherever he wants to. His domain is thus both granting and retrieving wealth, and he will have quite an amount of wealth himself.

[+4] Trading:

Every half-decent spirit knows that trading is the way of civilization, and Gyll understands the concept well. He can aid mortals with trading, but also use his skills to help himself, as a god of wealth ought to do.

[+2] Manipulation:

His silver tongue is often used to manipulate situations or beings so that he gains something. Because of him attempting to please as many as possible, the skill of manipulation is one he will need to make sure everything goes as it should.

[+2] Sun:

Gyll draws strength from the sun, and is stronger when the sun is in the middle of the sky than during the night. Even so, this isn't a domain that can be used with everything, as some tasks don't need increased power to be successful. (Teaching and talking, for example).


[-2] Destruction:

Gyll is bad at mindless destruction. If there's worth to be given something, he'd rather take it himself or alter it, rather than destroy it. Because of this, this drawback works when he has to destroy something of the material world without keeping anything/building something new there.


Gender: Male

(True) Appearance: Vortivask's appearance closely resembles that of a mortal human - a bipedal being with a tall bulky physique, long hair and dark skin. His only distinctly inhuman feature is his eyes, which are a pair of metal orbs with glowing red pupils. His clothes consist of a double-breasted jacket and a toque hat, creating a rather odd contrast with his otherwise primal appearance. He looks stony-faced at all times.

Personality: A brilliant yet stubbornly proud god. Vortivask has a sense of superiority that often makes working with others difficult. He'll always want to go either his way or, failing that, the hard way. Vortivask respects strength of mind and will, and looks down upon those who don't display such qualities.

He holds himself to high standards and always drives himself to become better. Vortivask's determination combined with a stubborn mindset makes him an almost implacable creature when he's motivated. He'll often go to ludicrous or extreme ends to achieve a difficult goal.


Fire +4: One of the greatest natural tools. Not just for destruction, but for many other uses as well. Vortivask manipulates fire to assist primarily in construction or craft as a compliment for his other domains. That said, he's more than willing to use it for warfare if need be.

Craft Work +4: More practical than any artisan's painting and more beautiful than any crude technology - Vortivask has a great respect for the crafts. Metallurgy, masonry and especially cooking are crafts that he both finds useful and endlessly interesting. Vortivask's knowledge of craft work is the envy of mortals.

High-Tech +4: The future is gray. Though lacking the beauty of flame or craftsmanship, advanced technology is among the most powerful of tools. Vortivask possesses and understanding of technology and science far beyond that of any mortal. He can use this knowledge to create things beyond imagination, yet using only the most practical and non-magic of instruments.


Diplomacy -2: Crude and unpleasant to most, Vortivask is not a creature of diplomacy. He is stubborn, difficult to work with and obnoxious in all manner of things. Even those who become friends with Vortivask may never get used to his uncharismatic, graceless personality.

Name: Nucdos
Gender: Unknown

(True) Appearance: His true appearance is a thing rarely seen by mortals, though everyone has a general idea. The most common thing about him is his large, baggy hooded robe that covers completely, trimmed with the white fur of a great wolf. A mortal, when looking at his face, will usually see that of a passed loved one, always smiling a calm, disarming smile. Underneath his robes are bones, human and wolf, leading to his skull. A god or special mortal will see it for what it is, a plain flat white mask with a single purple eye. In times of mass death; a war, famine, plague, he is seen in a worn silver breastplate and carrying a large hooked sword.

Personality: Morbid, inappropriate, yet entirely friendly. He sees all mortals as equals, and deeply loves each and every one of them. While life chooses few and grows tired soon, death will dance with anyone, and Nucdos loves to dance, and listen to stories, since life is dull and confusing when you only know the beginning and end. The elderly are his favorite, but he does love the boundless enthusiasm of the young.

Nucdos is also selfish, and stubborn. He follows his personal code and will never stray, unless he is given something of equal value in return. He is punctual, and he is unforgiving. His messages and rituals oftentimes are misinterpreted, or seen as contradictory and ignored. This frustrates him, and farmers usually live in fear of him, having to debate between sacrificing several animals or simply letting him wander off with their crops.


Death +10: All things must end. Some before they're even born, others when old and withered. Regardless of how it happens, they will be met by Nucdos, and attended to on the Ethereal Plane. There is no favoritism, and Nucdos simply wishes to meet you. Preferably with a story on hand, but he'll always have his turn with you.

Fertility +2: Nothing can end without a beginning.

Drawback: Healing -2: Medicine is the ultimate form of stalling, and Nucdos sees no point in it. Everyone dies, and there's an ending to all things. Delaying only puts you further and further from his good graces...

Name: Nadur
Gender: male
(True) Appearance: Tall humanoid spirit with rough brown bark skin and willow like hair, falling to halfway down his back. 12 point antlers standing from his head and wolf ears on top of his head. His face pushed out like a muzzle and having a black nose on the end, several fangs jutting down out of his lips. His eyes are slit vertically and wide. His arms are long and end in thick fingers that hide large bear like claws inside that he can sheath and unsheathe. Torso thick and solid it looks like an oak tree trunk has been put there. Thin long legs ending in the hooves of elk.
Personality: judgmental and quick to take those he sees at face value he always faces the strong and lets those weaker than him do as they want. Fiercely loyal to any he has taken into his pack and wary of all outside.

Death +4: The deaths in the wild, animal carcases and dead plants. Their use by the living to continue on as they themselves are dying. Taking them and helping their spirits pass on, either to the next life and reincarnation or into oblivion.

Bonds +2: The bonds that hold pack members together. That hold the flock, the swarm, the herd. He makes the weak bonds strong for those willing and the strong ones weak for those unwilling to keep them.

Nature +6: From the hot deserts to cool mountains to rolling plains to the thick forests. Everywhere were nature abounds is where he can be found, if you're willing to look hard enough. Starting and main domain.

Deception -2: Deception of others by words or actions. Nature has nothing of this so he doesn't understand others doing it and can't do it himself. Affecting anyone or anything doing this is harder than even affecting things outside his domain.


New member
Jul 16, 2009
Trae (10 AP)

The feeling was strange, when it started. At first there was...nothing. Was it oblivion? The realm this being originated from? Or, perhaps, something else entirely? This new entity could not answer, it could only describe its first feeling: of insect crawling on its skin. "I am...alive..."

Awoken with the sudden shock of existence, the entity shook its massive form, dislodging some of the creatures, but startling the others to burrow into its form. This did not cause the being pain, in fact, the act of such tiny creatures opened its eyes.

It felt connected to them, the tiny things whose form the entity could now clearly describe, down to the tiniest detail. The connection spread, as the entity could feel the water that surrounded his feet and hands, then the trees rooted around, and finally the animals that scampered about. One of these animals approached, apparently seeing the entity's first movement. The being opened its "eyes" to see for the first time, and saw the creature approaching as the creature saw itself: a young human, a girl.

Seeing the being up close did not seem to frighten her, instead, it made her curious. "Such actions would end lesser things..." The entity thought to itself. "...what must this creature be, to come without fear." To test this girl's courage, the entity rose from the water, stretching its form to its greatest height.

This sudden movement caught the girl off guard, and she quickly turned to run. "Ah, a more expected reaction..." The entity watched the girl as she fled, tracing her path through the swamp. "I must see this creature's nest." With that, the lumbering being flexed its limbs, and gave a slow chase.

By the time the entity had arrived to where it believed the girl made her home, the child had drawn a small crowd to the edge of the village. With faces of slight humor, they entertained the girl's tall tales of the walking tree she saw in the swamp.

They stopped smiling when they saw the tree emerge before their very eyes.

Some ran towards the safety of their homes, but others did not move, either out of fear or sheer amazement. As the entity could feel their eyes upon it, it could feel something stirring inside, a desire for these creatures. A desire for something they held within. "Do...not....fear..." The words came out slow, but echoed against the thick bark of the massive trees around him. "" The entity stopped for a moment and it felt compelled to self-identify, as if it knew giving itself a name would help bring out what it desired out of these small creature. "...Trae...and...I the...wild!"

Reaching out into the very heart of the creatures he spoke to, Trae sought to invoke a quality in them that would help them understand, to see that he was worth being bestowed with the object he desired.

[spoiler-Action]Inspire a group of mortals (less than 50) - 7 DC and 2 AP[/spoiler]


New member
Jun 29, 2011
The bones in the dusty field began to rattle. Was anyone there to hear them rattle? They shook and shook, their meat long since striped, the fragile bones began to be lifted into the air. Slowly, with tremendous effort, they began to drag, then hover over into a big clump. There, they fell to the ground, a long, creaking sigh rolled across the barren field. The sound seemed to have no origin, it simply came from the air, like wind. A line appeared in the air. A thin, small line, a break in reality perhaps stayed in the air. It stayed for several minutes, snapping open to reveal a single eye. It scanned, looked to see who would witness him first...

Nothing. A barren field, dusty and brown, filled with bones from time immemorial. The eye scanned faster, and faster, till the pupil of it's center seemed to fill the entire two dimensional shape as a purple circle, before stopping suddenly. Resting on the pile it had made. A single skull rose from the pile, placed behind the eye. The eye stretched itself over the eyes, twisting and warping it into a flat surface where the shape rested. It closed it's eye, the hard part was over. The rest of the bones rose, from two types of beasts. Man and wolves, hunters battled and it looked like a tie. There were weapons, crude, but no flesh to detail their wounds. Bones and dust. It did not matter, though it saddened the being. The spine of a wolf connected itself to the bottom jaw of a woman, locking together with the skull. The rest of it came together as thus, linking with parts that should not have, connecting to the beings frame, until at last it stood. The bones shifted against each other as he took a step forward, the spirit instead opting to break it all apart swiftly, rebuilding a few meters away. It moved the bones of his arms and hand, holding it to examine. Joints creaked as it put it back at it's side, the eye closed again as it was wrapped in an ebony bubble. It fit itself to the frame, a plain robe covering his body.

It looked around again, as it pulled up a hood. Nothing. Just an end of a story. Were there more? This world was not yet over, no, there were things happening. It wanted to see those endings. It heard something, far away, further than perhaps the beings that made it could hear. The bones rearranged, dark flesh wrapped it as it began walking towards a boy, walking with an elder. This was the outskirts of a town, he could hear them talking of it. They would need wood for homes, and fire. What were they? The being stopped in front of them, raising a hand and waving, "Excuse me!" he yelled, his voice pained and slurred, and slowly, as if it was trying to speak a foreign language through pain. They both heard a different voice.

The boy and elder both froze, turned to look at this intruder, brandishing ax. It liked the look of that thing, crude metal on a stick. It took a few steps forward, raising it's skeletal hands defensively. They both grew pale, retreating as he moved forward. A stubmling step forward, and suddenly it seemed to blink out of existence. The two turned around, it was in their way, "Who... am I?"

They screamed, and ran, both yelling about "Reapers." The being knew it was not it's name, yet... it felt appropriate. The Reaper smiled, as the flesh burned off his face, his eye staring as they ran on. This was his beginning. What would happen next?

Create physical avatar, effortless.


New member
Aug 17, 2012
Nadur, 10 AP

In a clearing just inside the edge of the forest as the sounds of the forest drift through the air a silent sound more felt than heard seems to pulse from the ground. As it sounds again and the trees around shake and some of their leaves fall to the ground slowly a slowly lifting bulge comes from the earth. As it shifts and slowly stretch's out into a basic humanoid shape pieces from the ground seem to travel over it to settle in different places. The skull and antlers from a large buck and pieces of several downed trees laying around in the clearing.

As more and more pieces of the nature surrounding this shape being created the eyes open and an intelligence shines behind them. Standing as still as a mountain for a minute a loud cracking sound shatters the quiet sound of the forest. The creature that had just stood from the earth lifts its arm slowly and closes its fingers into a fist before dropping his arm and taking a step forward and stomping on the ground several feet away. The joints in the leg and arm that had been moves seem to have dirt fall off it to show an actual limb that had been formed. Stepping forward again and twisting its torso more and more dirt and other vegetation flow off of it and fall to the ground.

Lifting its head and looking up at the foliage and the sky beyond it makes a deep and low sound that makes the ground around him vibrate as well as making the trees and bush's around shake harder making more leaves fall. Going quiet quickly and standing still with its eyes closed the creature soaks in the sounds of the forest around it, its hand raising slowly and the 4 blunt furry fingers slowly play over its elongated face and pull away when they come in contact with the sharp teeth that poke through the lips. Parting his lips slowly and letting another growl out he can feel the nature around it responding with vigorous movement and sounds before the growl slows and disappears and the forest quiets again.

Standing still and listening and feeling the forest around him grow and move and make noises for what the sun said was hours there comes a new sound that doesn't happen in nature on its own. turning towards the sound slowly and looking in that direction the creature bends its knees and runs through the forest towards it as birds and animals run away. Getting closer where what sounds like one thing striking something else over and over he comes on a different and new kind of animal. Slowing and walking forward towards it as it swings a stick with a flashing end on it at a tree he comes up behind it and grabs the stick as it brings it back, looking down at it with its weird end as the creature turns and yells out. Trying to jerk the stick back to itself as he holds it he speaks for the first time.

"What are you doing?"

The thing jerking on the stick looks at him with wide eyes and lets the stick to back up and stare wide eyed at the much taller creature. Sounds seem to come from its head and after watching for a few seconds he could understand it.

"I am cutting down this tree and i need that back, who are you? What are you?"

Looking down at himself, still holding the stick in the air he muses to himself softly.
"Who am i... Who am i?"
Shaking his head and looking out at the forest he frowns and looks back at the thing in front of him.
"I am.... Nadur... who are you?"

The creature staring at Nadur shakes itself and looks around with more fearful eyes as it realizes that he is talking to it. As it edges away and towards a small pile of sticks piles up in a weird way and some metal sitting inside it. Not answering back and running towards the 'cart' and grabbing something the thing keeps running away. looking over his shoulder at Nadur as he runs Nadur just watch's him for a while before sprinting forward after him to see where he is going. Dropping the things stick close to its cart and speeding down the path he can see that the thing is running towards dwellings. Slowing and stopping at the edge of the forest he stares as the thing runs in between 2 of the buildings and seems to be shouting. Shaking its head and turning back to the forest he starts to leave when even more shouting seems to be coming from the wooden shapes behind him. Looking back he can see that from a few longer buildings more things seem to run out and surround the first thing. After some arm waving and pointing at the forest edge where a few go to peer at it Nadur decides to to stay and watch. Jumping and catching onto a tree on the edge and climbing up into the top of the limbs he squats and watch's the activity below.

Create physical avatar, effortless.


New member
Jun 5, 2013
Seras, 10AP

There once was a woman with an active imagination. She used to daydream all day while working, and during the nights she had more vivid dreams than anyone else she knew in her village. In her dreams were recurring imagery and even characters. One day when she was washing clothes in the river close to her house, she took a nap under a tree after finishing up the laundry faster than usual. In her dream, she saw an impressive looking woman walking towards her and when the woman reached her she walked over the dreamer.

"Ah, yes, that would be me." Seras spoke.

The napping woman woke with a start. She thought she'd actually heard someone speaking, but it wouldn't be the first time she'd let her imagination run away with her, so she shrugged and began gathering up the laundry to take it back home. She felt watched all the while, and at moments she thought she'd spotted someone at the corner of her eye. Of course it must be her imagination, she thought, but felt a growing paranoia.

"This place is a dump!" Seras spoke again.

The woman dropped what she held and turned around sharply, as the voice had come from behind, but there was no one there. She wanted to run away, but if anyone saw her they'd think she'd gone insane, which to be fair was perfectly reasonable since she thought the same.

"My advice to you, don't look straight at me." Seras spoke for a third time. "I'm not actually there."

The woman was shaking at this point, but was smart enough to not run and listen to the advice of the voice. When she looked out of the corner of her eye, she saw the source of the voice, and what appeared to be the woman which had been in her dream just a moment ago. She could also see everything behind the woman, by looking through her.

"Well done. You're not that slow after all. I suppose you couldn't be if you were able to act as my portal to this realm of yours. My name is Seras, and yours is Hazel, my dear storyteller." Seras had the voice of a noble, someone who expected everyone to obey their whim, only because they told them too.

"That's not my name, Seras..." The woman objected.

"Now, now, don't interrupt me. That is rude of you. Anyway, Hazel, as a reward for opening up the way for me I'll bestow a gift upon you."

The woman was cautious about accepting a gift from this Seras. She didn't seem like the pleasant type, and she'd been warned about the supernatural in the stories she'd been told as a child.

"I am happy as it is. My life is better than most. I have a loving husband and daughter."

"Don't interrupt, you broke that rule again." Seras said. "Also, don't argue. You'll love my gift!"

"Thanks, but I'll have to decline." The woman went to pick up the laundry basket by the river, hoping Seras could take no for an answer and that she understood she was grateful for the offer, but couldn't accept a gift she didn't rightfully deserve.

"Do. Not. Argue."

Seras voice was right next to her ear now, and no more than a whisper, but it scared her. Before she had a chance to react Seras had pushed her into the river, and when she'd touched her she'd meant to turn her into Hazel, the storyteller of dreams. The spirit wondered if the woman knew how to swim, considering how much she was struggling for her life to stay above the surface. The woman stopped struggling once her head hit a rock, and then she went under the water. Seras thought it was a poor first impression Hazel was making, but since she'd already used her power she couldn't let her drown either. The spirit went after the woman, fished her out of the river and snuck her back into the village where she hung her up to dry on the wall of some large building. Maybe it was the townhall, but there weren't many around at this time of the day, so Seras had no problem avoiding getting seen.

Hazel was dreaming again, the spirit could feel it. It was a good sign that she was alive at least. The dead didn't dream, not in her realm. Seras escaped back into the reality of dreams, where she met Hazel and gave her a tour of the place. Seras needed someone to make way for her, in this dreary and dull village of nowhere. She also needed to make some improvements on the place, but for a beginning Hazel would be the best tool to employ.

<spoiler=Action>Inspire a single mortal for the term of their natural life. DC5, 1AP. +4 Dreams.
Turn the woman into Hazel, the storyteller of dreams, a prophet for Seras with no memories of her past, but with impressive storytelling skills.


Awe-Inspiringly Awesome
Apr 20, 2010
Gyll, 10 AP

Once, he was nothing but a simple flower bud. A beautiful golden flower grew from that bud, and it kept growing, its petals gold and seeds the most valuable of pearls. It was warm to the touch and stretched towards the sun at daytime. At night-time it shone, a brilliant light in the night. It never withered, only grew larger and larger as the years passed. At that time, it was nothing but a flower, no thoughts or sense of self, all it did was grow, gathering rays of sun so that it could survive. Then the mortals discovered it. Many a man attempted to bring the golden flower with them, putting great value in its beauty, but no one dared, in case it would get ruined.

Instead it was protected by these mortals and valued, almost to the point of worshipping it. Its petals and pearls were left undisturbed, as the humans built their village near its roots. That was when Gyll came into existence, though for years to come he would remain nothing but a flower still, a flower capable of feeling the sun-rays and the occasional touches from humans, the vibrations as they walked by. It was a peaceful existence.

But now, he could feel something different, and he knew instantly that he was no longer just a flower. The value he had been given by the mortals was real now, he could feel that the belief had given him powers to become something beyond what he had been. He started feeling the same kind of desire for worth that the mortals had felt around him, and it shaped his personality and self. The flower was changing, giving him a different appearance, that of a human male. That was when he felt the energies of others like him, not far from where he was.

I must see what has happened.

He opened his eyes, and stood up, slowly. His appearance was still not completely that of a mortal, his petals still hung from his body, and his feet still seemed to dig a little into the ground when he walked. Even so, the spirit moved, gracefully, towards the energies of others like him, and of mortals. He only stopped when he saw one of these mortals, one he felt like he knew. This was right outside the gates of the village. It was a female, old. She did feel familiar, her steps and energy reminded him of the time when he could not think. With heavy, tired, steps, she walked up to him, eyes wide.

Why does she do that?

He pondered. Was she trying to see better? The woman appeared almost withered to him.

"Hello," he said. A greeting. Then he followed it up with a question. "Who are you?"

"W-what did you do to the Gyllenstierna?" She sounded like she wanted to harm him, and he stepped away a little, the petals on his body closing themselves.

"The... Gyllenstierna?" He knew that name, he was sure of it. "You mean the flower?"

"Yes. What have you done to it, you rascal?!" He smiled, realizing who she was. She had protected him for a long time, tending to the flower to make sure it was okay. Reaching for her hands, he pulled them closer, the warmth of her hands was still the same as they always had been.

"I have done nothing to the flower," he replied, and pulled at the petals, then the leaves, showing the old woman that they were a part of his body. "I am the Gyllenstierna. You may call me Gyll. I remember you taking great care of me, and I wish to reward you for that." He closed his hand, and conjured up a beautiful pearl, then put it in her hands.

"Take this as a proof of my affection and gratitude."

-Conjure a pearl: Effortless

- Inspire a single mortal for the term of their natural life: DC5, AP 1

+4 Wealth (By conjuring up a beautiful pearl, he hopes to win her over, and for her to remember him for the rest of her life).

Rogue Trooper

New member
Oct 25, 2012
Evander (10AP)

On a grassy hill not far from the village sat a man. The man sat alone and gazed blankly out onto the rolling grasslands and forests that seemed to stretch off endlessly into the distance. The man was not a philosopher seeking to understand the nature of life, he was simple just a man, a warrior who once he had completed his duties, would return to an old favourite place of his; so that he could remember happier times. Times the warrior wished he could return to.

Evander felt sorry for the warrior as he watched and listened to the man and his thoughts. The loss of the warrior?s love had hurt the warrior deeply. She died of a strange disease following the burden of child birth, and the experience had put extreme doubt into the warrior?s mind that he could properly protect his young child from the same fate that had taking his love. The warrior wanted the power or the knowledge to better protect his child from harm, something which Evander could give.

?Hello friend?

The warrior who a second ago was lost in self-reflective thought; immediately shot up and turned spear in hand towards the direction of the voice. Evander simple smiled at the warrior, which caught the warrior off guard. The site of a battered and bloody man smiling at him was not what the warrior expected to see, but Evander?s weapons and armour still put the warrior at ill-ease and the aura which surrounded Evander felt unnatural to the warrior, so he simple continued to stare at Evander, his spear at the ready.

Evander knew that the warrior was suspicious of his weapons, and at once placed his shield and javelins onto the ground and raised his hands in a non-threating gesture.

?I apologise my friend? Evander spoke slowly approaching the warrior ?I did not mean to startle you, I simple wish to share the comfort of this hill with you. May I?? he gestured

The warrior nodded and slowly lowered his spear. Evander then smiled and sat down several meters from the warrior. The Warrior followed shortly after, but kept his spear in hand. Several minutes of silence followed and were finally broke by the warrior.

?Why are you here?? the warrior asked in his deep gruff voice ?where are you from??

Evander simple looked at the warrior and smiled ?Well Narses I?ve come to lend my assistance to you, I believe that both of us can help each other?

Narses stood up almost immediately, spear raised.

?Who are you?? Narses shouted ?how do you know my name??

Evander smiled and slowly rose to his feet. ?My name is Evander. What exactly I am however I cannot tell you, for I have not been born long into this world. But I know a bit about you Narses, and I know what you truly want?.

Narses shot Evander an angry look as a response ?What do you know what I truly want??

Evander smiled ?You wish for the power to protect your young child? Narses looked at Evander wide eyed, but before he could respond the spirit quickly cut in ?You felt powerless when you watched your wife die, and you promised her on her death bed that you would protect your child. But you know that you can?t protect your child from everything. But both of us can work together to do such a thing.

Narses looked at Evander, not knowing what to say. Evander could sense Narses was at a loss for words, as a flood of emotions ran through his head as he did not know how to properly respond to his words, but eventually he did.

?What do I need to do??

Evander smiled ?I can give you the power to protect yourself and those around you from harm. I do so, as like me; other spirits or beings have been born into this world which seek to influence or control the life in this existence?

?Have you met these other spirits?? Narses asked curiously

?No, but I can sense them, however right now they are of no importance? Evander then approached Narses ?Will you accepted the blessing I offer you??

Narses quickly nodded and Evander placed his hand on the warriors shoulder. Power began to flow into and invigorate the young warrior; the event lasted not longer than a few seconds. But Evander could sense that Narses, with his blessing was becoming stronger.

?Now return to your village, serve as its protector and teach others of what I can offer them. I will watch from afar?

?What if I need you?? Narses asked

Evander smiled ?then pray? the spirit collected his weapons and quickly disappeared, leaving Narses alone once again.

Bless a single mortal for the term of their natural life ? 5DC 1AP

+4 protection give Narses the ability to better protect himself and those around him


New member
Nov 24, 2012
Syllus (10 AP)

A young boy tore through the underbrush outside of the village, panting and sweating. He kept casting furtive glances over his shoulders, then down to the meager meal clutched between his hands, as if to ensure it was still there. Voices followed behind him, gruff and angry. The harsh pounding of their footsteps was growing closer. Eyes wide with panic, the boy kept on running, almost tripping every time his feet encountered a root but just barely keeping his balance.

A young spirit followed the chase, a formless, flitting shadow that dashed between cover. Golden eyes watched with curiosity as the scene played out beneath it. It's understanding of such creatures was small and flawed, and while the complexities of the scene before it escaped it, the raw emotion was clear. The boy was being hunted. Rushing forward, it clung to the terrified boy's shadow, unnoticed.

The voices behind them were getting closer, and the boy was tiring. Soon it would end. Yet the boy continued to run, looking for anything to save himself. Between the cracks of a rock, he found it. The entrance to what was likely a small cave. "Please don't let them find me here," the boy whispered, an empty plea to the shadows around him. He ducked inside, hiding as deep into the rock as he could. His shadow stayed behind, twisting and growing until it took the shape of a man, thin and pale, with raven feathers for hair and black eyes, each set with a thick ring of gold. His fingertips brushed the entrance to the rock before he placed his palm flat on it. He began to whisper under his breath.

"I, Syllus, master of shadows, place this land under my protection. Henceforth, only this boy and his shall find refuge within. May they hide from all others beneath the shadow of my protection."

He removed his hand, leaving its black print behind, and then he was gone.

Local Action, Difficulty 5, Cost 1 AP
Enchant an area the size of a large room.
Hide the entrance to the cave from all but the boy and those he chooses to share it with.
+4 Shadow


New member
Jun 24, 2012
Sang'regel 10AP




On the outskirts of the village, on the cusp of the wilds, was a cave (not the cave mentioned earlier but another one, caves rarely live alone). This was not a nice cave. It was dark and dank and did not care for the light of day. Not many things came to visit this place, only the bats and the worms and the creatures that skulked in the night.

But today something new was stirring in the dark. A hunched and brittle skinned monster with an unnaturally long head and a body laced with bands to mark the links of a harsh armoured hide. Slowly, awkwardly, this new thing shifted in the dust and pushed itself up on all fours. It took great effort but soon she found a way to move, fast and skittish like a spider, from ground to wall, to roof, to ground again. The nails and thorns of her limbs finding easy homes in the stone. She was most certainly alive.

And she was a she! She did not know how she knew this but she was very certain of this. Alone in the silence and certainty.

This was all very confusing... and quite frightening. Understandable of course, since she was a newborn and newborns take time to adapt to being alive. All things considered she was doing quite well. The light was very strange. It seemed to bring all kinds of colours to the world outside of her birthplace. She wasn't sure she liked that. The warmth was nice though, that was something at least and there was a flower beyond there that had one colour she liked. It was red, like the streak of her hair that fell across her face and covered in thorns just like she was. It was softer than she was though and crumpled easily in her hands.

This world was strange and getting stranger still as she heard noises of odd barking creatures in the distance. they looked very strange indeed, walking on two legs and covering themselves in flowing clothes as they cluttered around simple caves of their own, except these stood on their own. Houses they called them. The things - which she was certain were called people - went about their business seeming calm enough. But underneath they were full of rage and bitterness and jealousy and it just went on and oooon!

She remembered this. She had heard all this when she had first woken up, she had felt it deep down in her core. It felt so warm and comforting. Like being wrapped in a warm blanket. Being alive was proving to be very interesting and she was still curious about this place, especially the ground where these people gathered. She could see far and move much faster than the people apparently could as she darted through the shadows, maybe she could see more of this place from the darkness. She would stay hidden for now, somehow she knew that if they saw her they would be afraid. So she would stalk them and observe for now.

Scry an area the size of a village or neighborhood. DC 7 AP 2

Questions she's looking to answer: Are there any leaders in this village?
Are there any poor or outcast members of the village?


New member
Aug 17, 2012
Nadur, 8 AP

Squatting in the trees above the village and watching a few of them run into the forest Nadur stays quiet and just watch's for now. His eyes catching someone coming back to the village with the cart and 'axe' that had been left behind, as well as a small tree that when it gets to the village he watch's get chopped up more and piled up against houses.

As time goes on and several others go out into the forest and come back later with trees Nadur followed one into the forest to watch him. Listening to the tree whisper and its leaves fall before the whole tree falls and it is tied behind a horse and it is pulled to the village to be cut up. Listening to these strange animals called man he realizes its a tree day where they get all the wood they will need for the week. While listening to the people talk he hears that there is a group of men out in the forest hunting animals and they should be coming back soon. Watching the village for a second and turning away Nadur bounds through the trees looking for those other men in this forest.

Half an hour later of fast movement Nadur comes on a small group of men walking along the forest, some of them carrying animals and some with bows in their hands looking around for animals they can take. Following them silently from the trees for a little Nadur drops to the ground in front and slowly standing to his full height. Looking down at 3 arrows sticking out of his chest from those in front of him had fired as soon as he had dropped. Grabbing them in one hand and pulling them from his chest he drops them to the forest floor and looks at the men ahead of him.

"That.... will not ... work."

Looking them over and narrowing his eyes slightly he can feel that each of them is fairly well at understanding the forest and nature but they miss somethings that he saw as plain. Frowning and tilting his head as he looks down at them before saying softly.

"You are all hunters, killers of animals and those that feed others. But you could be better..."

They look at each other before one steps forward. Holding a better bow than those around him and his outfit slightly different also he speaks up for all of them.
"How could we be better? we are the best hunters in the village and have been hunting in these forests for 20 years each at least."
As the other hunters behind him agree and some of them draw more arrows and put them on their bows Nadur snorts and waves his hands making the strings come off heir bows. Standing there looking down at them he can feel them still very wary if him.

"i can give you the power and abilitys to make you the best hunters in the last thousand years."
Smiling slightly as he looks over them and crossing his arms. Their eyes disbelieving and still mistrustful.
"I will give you the power to become the best hunters in the world. When you have been then spread my name."

Stepping back and filling his lungs with air Nadur blows air over the 15 hunters before turning and jumping away through the forest.

Difficulty: 7 Village Action Cost: 2 AP +4 forest
-Affect Bless a small group of mortals (less than 50) for life

give the 15 hunters the power to be perfect hunters.
able to move quickly and silently no matter what kind of environment.
their ears can hear the smallest of sounds.
they can track anything that leaves a mark.
they are several times stronger than they were before.


New member
Jun 9, 2009
Farenal: 10

He was old, that much was clear. His long white hair flowed down over his shoulders, reminding his companion of a snow covered mountain. The man had a face etched with memory, his life was written in scars and blemishes and the remnants of wounds, not all of them physical. However, it was the man's eyes which held his companion's attention. They had grown stronger in age, more clear, more discerning. By themselves, they transformed the old man, lending a second wind to his age, dispelling the weakness of his body.

The man was troubled, that much was evident as he stared into the dimming flames of the fire in his single room home. His companion had no idea how long he had been sitting with the man, couldn't recall how long the man himself had been sitting there, or even why he was there, however, he knew the man had called him. This man needed him.

Farenal studied the man a few moments longer. Farenal? Ah, of course. He was Farenal. Yes, he looked to his own form, inspecting his hands and turning them over. His cloak was plain and dark grey, and he was old. He could remember not much before this moment, this man before him, but he knew. His hands were rough, calloused from a lifetime of labor and battle and service, a lifetime he had and had not lived. Farenal understood such things, there was no contradiction in this.

But the man. He refocused his attention. The man had summoned him, had asked for his help before he knew he was, or that he could even help. So he would help. It was as simple as that.

"What troubles you?" He asked the man in a soft voice, "Why have you called?"

The man seemed to not notice, or just ignored him, continuing to stare at his dwindling fire. Idly, the man shook his head, then reached for a stick and began prodding the dimming flame back to life. Farenal knew, as he knew of the life he had never lived, that his words and presence passed almost unnoticed to this man. He might sense a presence, but he couldn't be certain of the presence.

Farenal picked himself up and walked about the fire, closer to the man. Slowly, tentatively, Farenal reached out and touched the man, placing his hand onto the man's forehead.

His eyes widened as he made contact and the spirit began shaking slightly. He was awash in memory and experience, Teol was a leader to his people, an elder, wise and experienced. Though age had taken his strength, wisdom now asserted itself, and that was what he needed to provide to his people. A criminal had been arrested, his crime was known, that of taking another's life. He was profaned in the eyes of his people, but they were uncertain what to do. The criminal was taken before Teol for judgment, and the weight of responsibility crashed down on him. A man's life had been thrust into his hands, a life he had never wanted. Teol wanted to absolve himself of the responsibility, who was he to take a man's life as the criminal himself had done? But what was the point of letting the man go? He was a criminal, he couldn't be allowed to go free. He had never sought out this responsibility. What to do, what to do, how to decide...

"We never choose our burdens." Farenal said, breaking his contact with Teol, the man much less shaken than the spirit. Teol brought his head to his hands for a moment, a strange sudden jolt was all that he knew before resuming his meditations.

Farenal knelt down as well as he could, reaching eye level with Teol. He understood the elder's difficulty, no one should have to make the choice he was about to. But the spirit also understood something else, to survive people need to organize and order themselves. They needed structure. They needed justice.

Farenal touched the man again, this time differently. This time, he would effect Teol, not the other way around, "I will take on your burden as my own." Farenal swore to Teol, "You and your people will know what it is to be just. You will have me to help you understand this, and you will come to learn it yourself. It is no easy road to walk, but I will walk it with you." With this Farenal released Teol. He wasn't certain how he had done what he had with the man, but he knew what the result would be.

He left Teol just as the man reached his decision. Reaching for a jug, Teol poured water carefully over the fire. He would go for a guard and announce his decision. The criminal would be executed. Justice would be done.

Inspire Single Target: DC 5, AP 1 (4 Justice)

Inspires target elder to enforce and execute edicts of justice in the name of Farenal, the Ardent Justice.


RIP Escapist RP Board
May 24, 2012
Meinir, 7/10 AP

Mortals were such quaint little things: weak, short-sighed and brash, however, both mortal and divine had a desire to create. The matter of who was mirroring who was irrelevant, especially when the divine got the credit.

Various bits and bobs of clay lay near the village kiln, the building that housed it was empty - partly due to the hubbub going on outside - except for one man. A stump and a stick clearly indicated that he was lame and the dried clay on his weather hands marked him as the village potter. The potter scratched his hand, he could have sworn the clay was beginning to shape itself.

Unfortunately, he was right. A nascent spirit was playing about with the stuff like a child, except when the spirit was done, there was a perfect clay replica of his missing leg sitting on the table.

"This some sort of joke?" The potter cried out, "Whatever you are reveal yourself! First trees walk now clay has a life of its own... Am I going mad or is it the world that is going mad?"

"I am... Meinir." Was the answer. Her name and her gender was all the spirit was certain of, like someone had left an impression of them in her mind before she could choose herself. Meinir couldn't say that she had a normal birth, no, she had been conjured by mortals of meat. Therefore, she would shape them as much as they had shaped her. Simple revenge.

The potter ran his hand through his scraggly beard, "Well, I'm Daichi the village potter if that means anything to you. Just call me Dai. Now, what are you doing here with my clay?"

"Shaping, creating, sculpting... Doing as my nature dictates." Was the only answer the spirit had for Daichi, recreating his lost leg was simply a bit of child's play. Wait... If he was expecting anything from her, he was wrong. First, Meinir would have to get a few things straight, "Tell me of this place, this... village."

"I see." Dai muttered and when on to answer her question, "Just your ordinary village. Some people hunt, others farm and yadda yadda yadda. Good honest work, we get by okay though winter is always a trying time."

"You... labour?" Meinir said, mulling over the concept. Suddenly the clay leg turned into something else entirely, little things with feet, teeth and... claws. "But that isn't any fun! Dai, I shall deliver this village from drudgery!"

All manner of squelching began to emanate from the little clay creatures as the clay was transmuted into flesh and they began to grow. The table creaked under the weight of the beings, however it was hard to tell whether the nascent spirit's action would be successful. She had little experience of the world and of mortal ways after all.

Creating a non-sentient species smaller than an elephant: DC 9, +4 Flesh

Flesh Peons: intelligence-wise as smart as a dog, and look like hairless dogs with hands on their front legs instead of paws, created to do menial tasks and take pleasure from doing so, can obey simple orders and can also be easily trained.

Deu Sex

New member
Aug 26, 2012
Vortivask, 5 AP

In the belly of a mountain near a village, someone was born. It was of the aether but came from the depths, being belched forth from a stream a magma. The molten being crawled through the dark tunnels of its new home, the earth merging with his body with every step. By the time he could walk and move properly he had become a being clad in rocky flesh, with fiery blood and divine intellect.

Time passed and Vortivask laboured within the mountain. He found the dark and desolate cavern far preferable to the outdoors - a land he had discovered to be full of annoyances from its glaringly bright sun to its braindead mortal inhabitants. Underground though, Vortivask didn't have to endure such foolishness. It was a pleasantly cold, quiet place where he could practice his craft in peace and had access to a bounty of rich minerals. The inner depths of the mountain were littered with tin vases, copper cups, bronze blades, glass statues, granite furniture and even some obsidian orbs retrieved from his birthplace. Vortivask spent hours in the darkness, illuminated only by red inhuman eyes, honing his craft.

More time passed though he became lonely. There were no denizens in the depths of the mountain, besides a few moles and worms and other miserable creatures. And they were even dumber than the mortals who lurked above. Vortivask had no true company with him. Nobody to converse with him or appreciate his art. He was reluctant to leave his home and frolic with the mortals, as he found them pitifully ignorant and they found him intolerable for other reasons. It seemed Vortivask was doomed to be alone for the rest of his existence.

That is, until he had a thought. Why not create a being like himself? A being born of fire and earth? Surely another product of the mountain's depths, especially one created by Vortivask, would be a creature of solid mind and fine company. So Vortivask embarked on his newest project - to create a being of true earth like him. It would be his finest work of craft yet.

As time flew by, Vortivask sculpted his cohort. He tore granite from the walls around him, scooped clay from the wet ground outside, dug for tin, hunted for copper, scanned for magma and retrieved obsidian from the depths below. When Vortivask was done gathering ingredients he began cooking. The rocks, minerals and metals all melted together as one. Then Vortivask began sculpted, carefully shaping his being into the same humanoid shape that both he and the mortals possessed. It was the shape most familiar to his mind.

For his final step Vortivask breathed aether into the construct. Moments later, the golem's lifeless eyes glowed with a celestial hue. Vortivask smiled at his work. He decided to name this new being Rocky. A simple name, but a true one at that. After bringing Rocky into existence, Vortivask attempted to show off his various crafts to the golem, who displayed little reaction and understanding of what he saw. Vortivask sighed. Truly it would take some time and effort to make his new friend a wise one.

Forging a +1 Magic Item: DC13, +4 Craft Work


New member
Nov 24, 2012
And so first actions of the spirits began to shape the world around them, changing the lives of mortals in their wake.

In the village to the east, the mortals were just beginning to stir with talk of spirits, their lives brushed by their presence.

Seras created her prophet, destroying the life of a mortal in the process, bringing forth Hazel. Her stories drew great crowds, at the cost of the misery of her family, who she could no longer recognize. The people of the village created various works depicting many of her stories. Color bloomed within the village, and whispers began of a goddess from which Hazel got her stories.

Syllus' enchantment took hold just in time, shifting shadows sweeping in at the last moment to conceal the cave entrance. The boy's pursuers ran past without so much as a second glance at his hiding spot, and he was able to eat in piece. A smirk was plain on his face, a desperate, feverish plea forgotten and overshadowed by his own perceived cleverness.

In the village to the west, the spirits were much more active, and the mortals there found these new spirits deeply ingraining themselves in their culture.

Farenal's influence lasted on the village elder, who was swift to make the execution he had been shying from. The people grew to know him for his strict, harsh stance of justice, and while often saw him and his spirit as saviors from chaos, occasionally feared his judgement.

Gyll convinced his old caretaker of the truth of his origins, and so she looked upon him with the same tenderness she had reserved for him as a flower. She loved him dearly, flower or spirit, and would do so for the rest of her natural life span, however much longer that would be.

Evander blessed his chosen veteran warrior, bestowing upon him guardianship and protection. His gifts earned him the favor of the people, and kept the village safe from harm many a time. They listened closely when he spoke of the spirit that had empowered him.

Not all of the spirit were successful in their first attempts on affecting the world, however.

Nadur sought to bestow hunting prowess on the hunters he had come across. Unfortunately, he failed miserably. While the men had felt a bit tingly for a short while afterward, nothing ultimately came of Nadur's promise, and the men oft laughed later on about their strange encounter or shared hallucination.

Meinir's creation began to take form, and as it did it grew. The table strained underneath the weight of this new life and caved beneath it. As the beasts fell to the earth, they exploded in a gooey mess. They didn't get back up.

Vortivask's golem wasn't just barely reacting to presented stimuli. It wasn't reacting at all. His attempt to imbue power and life into the earthen man had failed, and the light within its eyes faded quickly.

Sang'regel looked far out beyond her hiding place into the heart of the village, but her vision was clouded. A few shining lights within the crowds stood out, but as for who they were was almost as murky as the dank depths in which she resided.

Trae appeared before the people, in his enormity. Many fled, but when those who remained felt the touch of his power. His powers twisted upon themselves, bringing about in mortals the opposite of the desired effect. The power of their disbelief grew so great, their denial overshadowed the truth, and they find themselves more than capable of ignoring the great spirit among them as nothing more than a strange tree.

And so time passed, and the villages began to take shape around their new ethereal inhabitants. The village of the east began to be known as Dreamer's Den, a place where even the fantastic was imaginable. Those that lived there were curious and full of creativity, and the village itself was vibrant. When Hazel drew her crowds, however, it wasn't unusual for a few things to go missing. The culprit and the stolen goods were never found.

The village of the west came to be known as Blessed Garden, where nature's essence itself was alive and the just protected the weak. Within its borders, a flower had achieved a beautiful, higher existence, and so nature was respected and protected. Two men held great influence within the community, a warrior of great prowess and an elder whose dedication to justice went unmatched, who wielded brawn and brains respectively to ensure the well-being of their people.

Eastern Village - Dreamer's Den
Seras - Success!
Syllus - Success!
Sang'regel - Failure
Nadur - Failure
The Reaper - No world affecting action

Western Village - Blessed Garden
Gyll - Success!
Farenal - Success!
Evander - Success!
Trae - Failure
Meinir - Failure
Vortivask - Failure


Awe-Inspiringly Awesome
Apr 20, 2010
Gyll, 9 AP

Gyll's impression of the village was one of wonder and amusement, but also disappointment. The old woman showed him around, explaining the ways of the humans, and how they lived. Some had looked at him when he passed them, confused, but the old woman had explained his presence, and soon enough odd stares were replaced with those of both adoration and of greed. Once, a child had tried to pick off one of his pearls, only to be scolded by their mother.

Few addressed him, though, those who did treated him with a mix of respect and curiosity. His existence was as much of a mystery as that of others. Even so, his status was more that of a mortal than that of a spirit, and he never asked them to worship him.

The flower-spirit was taken care of by the old woman for the time he had spent in the village. While he had not requested it, she insisted on tending to him the same way she had when he was a flower, cleaning and tending to his petals, leaves and skin, while combing his hair and bringing him mortal clothes when he was cold. Gyll spent most of this time outside, wandering through the streets of the village in the sunshine, or even just sitting outside the small house on a costly pillow and watch as the villagers went on with their way.

He had not yet spoken to any of the other spirits, and instead preferred the company of the old woman, whose name had been forgotten by everyone but herself. Gyll cared for her greatly, and would do his best to aid her when he could, though not through the use of his godly domain. For a while, he lived as nothing more than a mortal.

However, he was not very pleased with how the old caretaker's house looked or felt. It was small and slowly rotting. It did not suit his taste, not at all. He had picked up a word from a mortal passing by the house a few days ago. Shabby. Gyll did not want to stay there, yet he did not have the heart to leave, and so had brought it up instead.

"This residence does not suit me," he had stated, matter of factly. "It is ugly. Cannot you get a new one? I can give you gold and wealth to buy one with." With a surprised look, she had shook her head.

"It does not work that way."

"Why? It is just a pile of wood, surely it should be possible to ask for some more." He did not understand why the mortals put such a worth in something that common. He knew that there was another spirit with connection to the trees -one he had heard of but never met- was that why? "I still do not like it here."

She smiled a tired smile and sat down. Gyll knew that the life remaining in her was short, a weak, little mortal, with no family or friends left. Her daughters and sons had left her long ago, wanting to build a family in a different part of the world.

"Gyllenstierna, come sit next to me," she said, and patted the worn bed. He sat down, though he still wore an expression of being clearly dissatisfied. "My husband built this house many years ago, before he passed away. I do not wish to leave it, and have become too old to tend to it." Gyll did not understand what the intended message was.

"It is uncomfortable and falling apart. Surely there is something better out there. Someone as noble and grateful as you should not have to spend your last days in a house like this."

"Gyllenstierna." The old woman spoke in a calm voice still. The pearl she had received hung around her wrinkled neck, it looked out of place with her common and dull clothes, it shone with the "Listen to me. While there are few things in this world as golden and precious as you, there is worth beyond that of wealth. This house possesses a value that cannot be measured in material goods. It means a lot to me, almost as much as you do. Surely you can understand what I am talking about."

It was still a mystery to him, just what the worth of this house could be. However, Gyll nodded.

"Let me fix it, then." Was that within his abilities? Gyll was not sure, but it felt as if he could change the house. In his mind, the pictures of a large, golden house with expensive and luxurious items appeared, beautiful and showing of wealth. Yes, he could do this. It would be difficult, but it was possible.

"How?" the old woman asked. Gyll smiled.

"Trust me."

With that, he stood up to cast magic over the whole house, to make it into a house that fit his presence better, and that would be a more sufficient home for him and his faithful caretaker.

- Enchant the old caretaker's house both inside and outside: DC7, 2 AP

+4 Wealth (The house will be enchanted into an especially wealthy home, with gold and rare wood making up most of its foundation. It will be made to appear bigger on the outside and inside, and the damage done to it will be fixed, though, it is still an enchantment and can be reversed.)

Rogue Trooper

New member
Oct 25, 2012
Evander (9AP)

As his influence and those of the other spirits took hold and shaped the path of events that transpired within the village. Evander could not help but be interested in the humans and the every-day trails that they faced. Even if it was something as simple as gathering food because they were hungry, or fighting off a group of wild animals that were a danger to the village; the way that the humans dealt with their problems was commendable and intrigued Evander.

They were hard working and the sense of community that existed within the village, made them fascinating to watch. Each man, women and child worked together for the benefit of each other and this gave them protection from the hardships that this existence seemed to throw at mortal life. Evander was pleased at this, and as he continued to watch them, he began to grow a caring fatherly love for the mortals.

Narses, the veteran warrior who Evander had blessed with the power to excel at his profession as a protector of the village, had done just as good as the spirit expected. The warrior was using his new found abilities for the right reasons and soon he became one of the most important and respected men in the village. Through his actions a small group of Narses?s fellow warriors soon became interested in Evander and the abilities that he could offer them. This pleased the spirit, as these men like Narses simple wanted the ability to better protect their people and home from harm.

Although this group of men numbered no more than a handful, their desire to protect those that they cared about was worthy of respect in Evander?s eyes. The spirit the decided that he would bless these mortals with the same power that he gave to Narses. But before he done that, he wanted to talk to his champion face-to-face.

It only took but a blink of an eye, but in an instance Evander appeared before Narses. The warrior gave a bow of respect and waited on the god to begin the conversation.

?I?ve been watching you with pride Narses? Evander spoke &#147;you have used the gifts I have giving you well, and haven?t abused them. Thanks to you the village is safe and I commend you for that?.

?Thank you? Narses replied giving a quick nod ?But I?m sure you haven?t just come here to give me praise?

Evander shot a quick smile to the warrior ?Indeed I haven?t, I?ve come here to ask you about your comrades who have shown an interest in the powers I have giving you. I have watched them for some time and their motives appear to be sincere in wanting to gain the powers I offer?

Narses nodded ?They are. I?ve known most of them since I was a boy, and like me they want to protect their families and this village from harm?.

?Good? the spirit replied ?Although I must ask one more question?

?Anything? the warrior replied

?Do you trust that your comrades would do as you do, and uphold the protection of the village and their families before themselves??

?Yes I do?

Evander nodded in response ?Very well, I will trust your judgement and will bless them with the abilities that I have giving you, so that all of you, can work together for the overall protection of the village. Keep it save and honour my name and desires through your actions?.

Bless a small group of mortals (7) for life ? DC7 2AP

+4 protection; bless Narses?s comrades with the same abilities as him, so that they can work together to defend the village from harm


New member
Jun 24, 2012
Sang'regel 6 AP

One thing was certain now. This place was very confusing for her. The young spirit was fascinated by what was going on here none the less. She kept her distance, watching from the dark as the soft things scurried about their days. Many were boring for the most part. They got up, they ate, they toiled with tools and soon they slept again. They smiled and laughed and played the little ones played their little games. There were tiny differences here and there but nothing worth noting for the most part.

The larger ones could be interesting sometimes. They would hide things behind their smiles. They would hold each other warmly and then once parted bare their teeth and spit their hate of the others when alone. Why did they do this, what purpose did it serve? So many questions. But they were fun ones!

One dusk, when she was cautiously creeping from her den, she felt a calling from the trees not so far away. The sound of cutting and struggle, of man grunting in strength. Like the ones who cut down the trees or carved from the stone. This was different though.

She would investigate!

As she got closer the light became clearer, the fading of the sun meant little to her, the world blurred and focused as she honed in on what had called to her like a lighthouse in a sea of smoke. This was a little way from the village, quiet and secluded. Hidden among the depths of the green. It was like the village but much smaller, like their houses but not. It was alone, like she was. A tiny hut, with only enough for one of the larger peoples to stay in.

There was one there now. He was hard at work, just as she had heard. His muscles strained and the sinews tightened as sweat trickled down his brow and his breath grew heavy with exertion, his lips curled back and his oh so sharp teeth gritting. Before him, lain out on what must have been an alter, was one of the four-legs. The ones that ran around and ate the ground. That had spiked crowns on their heads but shone light as dull as mud water. She did not find these so interesting. This one was off though; it lay still, all its light had gone. Replaced by dark and red. The red she had liked she liked so much flowed from it like a spring. It was beautiful.

The man thing was hard at work with his tools, stripping it of skin. Cutting and pulling and peeling and wrenching and struggling as the flesh fought so hard to stay close to its home but he did not hear its cries as his strong hands grasped at the edges and ripped it back in swift fresh sheets and his blade plunged and danced through muscle and blood and cared nothing for the struggle!

Only knowing that it was home in those blissful moments.

It was in these moments that she came to realise what he was doing. That this was where the man things called their food from. Well some of it, their favorite parts. This was how they did it! How they lived, how all the sharp toothed strong ones lived. By claiming life from others to extend their own! Of course it all made sense now! The things from the earth were claimed by the dull animals and the animals claimed by the man things. Each one falling to the brighter lights above them. But what claimed the man things?

That question would wait. For now she was entranced by the beauty he was making with the sharpness in his hand. It danced through the body as the light danced on its edge. There were more like it lined up on display. Faster than he could notice she snuck in and snatched up another like the blade he was using before scurrying back into her beloved darkness. This knife (for in her heart she knew it was a knife) was longer than the one the man thing had used. Long, thin, curved and wicked. Just like her fingers, it could have been made from her... or for her. Except for the handle made from antler but it was a lovely present none the less.

She turned it over in her hands as the dark blades of her hands pushed through the blade like butter. She could make it better though.

-Create one Heroic-tier sacred relic. DC 7 AP 2

+ 4 Murder: Creating a divinely dark murder weapon. Who the murderer and victim will be is still unknown.


New member
Jun 5, 2013
Seras 9AP

"Dreamer's Den, huh?" Seras said where she sat on a throne of rainbow coloured gems. They cast beautiful reflections as the light hit them. "Well done, Hazel!"

"Thank you, Seras." Hazel rose from her knees with a beaming smile. The prophet formed a seat of clouds for herself. She'd gotten better at manipulating her own dreams to her own desires, after Seras had thrown away Hazel's old life and personality for her. Seras had watched the village with one eye, and might have missed the subtle but positive changes without Hazel telling her about it.

"Nevertheless, there's more that can be done." Seras tapped her scepter against the palm of her hand. "Wake up, I want
that town hall of yours"

Seras stepped through Hazel once again, and the dreamer woke where she'd been sitting on a bench by the side of a barn. She immediately got up and walked all the way to the building which she'd awoken as Hazel on, hanging from the side of the wall. What her goddess called their town hall was a meeting place of sorts, but she didn't think they called it that. She couldn't remember, but she knew arguing with Seras was inherently dangerous in her subconscious.

"Is this the biggest building in the village?" Seras whispered.

"Yes, one of them." Hazel nodded in agreement.

"It's certainly the most central." Seras said, and pushed Hazel to enter.

She found a large room that took up most of the buildings interior. There was a hallway and some smaller rooms, but mostly there was the one room. There were rows and rows of benches. All faced towards the back of the room which had a raised floor and a podium for whoever might be the leader for this village. Unless they just allowed anyone to speak.

Seras would anchor her realm to the village here. The villagers could already visit her realm, as could anyone else in the world when they slept. It would be different for Dreamer's Den though. It had been chosen by the one true monarch of dreams. For the sake of theatrics, she created an illusionary anchor in thin air and let it crash down into the middle of the room. It sent splinters of wood flying. The sound echoed through the village and underneath the see-through anchor was a crater. The chain of the anchor seemed to fade into a hole in midair. Hazel was noticeably shocked, but faked a laugh anyway.

Seras stopped fooling around and began to work on the enchantment to make this room unique. Anyone who went inside the room would be able to produce visual magic, imagery unheard of in this age, simply by daydreaming it into existence. It wouldn't be able to affect the room like she had with the anchor, but it would be able to enthrall an audience. Anyone who slept in the room would feel that their dreams had an effect on their waking life, if only by making them feel better or worse about their problems. She wouldn't give them any control of the outcome. Dreams were not meant to be controlled by man.

"Let them know what happened here, Hazel. It is your duty to guide the community." Seras said, and then she left Hazel standing while she returned to dream.

Conjure up a small quantity of anything. (Anchor)
DC5, 1 AP. +4 Dreams.
-Enchant/Scry an area the size of a large room. (Enchant the main room in the town hall, so that anyone inside can create vivid imagery by daydreaming it into existence. People sleeping inside might feel that their dreams affect their reality stronger, even if it's just a feeling)


New member
Aug 17, 2012
Nadur, 7 AP

Holding onto a tree up near the tip he punch's the tree as he watch's the hunters down below, none of what he had tried to bless them with evident and he turns to race through the forest away from these humans. Jumping from tree to tree and stopping at the edge of the forest he watch's the houses and resting places of these creatures, their weakness of their body's making him not like them. When one of them fell of the top of one of these built places and broke one of its limbs, its wailing and crying out drawing more of them. They pick this weak thing up and carry it to another lair as more stand around watching.

Turning and throwing himself through the forest as he goes over what he knows of these creatures Nudar can't decide if they are strong or weak. Like the strong they hunted and killed other animals and used them as they wish, but they were weak of body. Still throwing himself through the forest till he is in a very deep area away from all humans he drops into a clearing and stays crouched as he listens. Now as night falls he can hear some humans still around, a few rooting around in the ground while others look for things that are only seen at night.

Slowly standing and looking around Nudar walks over to a tree standing alone among the forest. Stepping up and looking it over he can feel its strength and power deep inside the tree, wood as strong as metal but still wood. Stepping closer and pushing his hand against the wood his arm slowly slides into the wood before closing around one part of inside and pulling it out. Drawing a well formed and solid bow from the heart of the tree Nudar looks over it slowly. A smile making his lips raise slightly as he considered this bow of so far unmatched strength and power.

Holding the bow in one hand and reaching into the tree again when he pulls his hand out again he is holding a dozen arrows of this hard wood. Without the fetching but with heads made of the same wood. Holding both of them in one hand and turning away he smiles thinly as he runs through the forest towards where he knows a bear cave is. Rushing in and taking its head off with one hard swipe of his arm he grabs the skin of the neck and rips off a large chunk of it. Forming a basic holder and dripping the bow and arrows into it so they are held by the fur he rips into the bear to get at its gut, pulling them out and rubbing them over his fingers they shiver and turn into bow strings. Dropping a handful of these to into the makeshift bag Nudar turns away and leaves the bear where it lays.

Running back towards the village but slower and more purposed. Getting to the edge in the middle of the night and running in between the houses and into the one where the leading hunter lived, being able to feel him. Walking in and looking down at the man sleeping he reach's down and shakes him. The man waking and yelling out at the towering figure over him. Looking down at this scared human trying to hide its searching for something to protect himself Nudar drops the makeshift bad down on the bed.

"Here, a bow made by me. My blessing over you all did not work. But this will. Remember this and make sure you tell other strong hunters."

Setting his hand on the man and blessing this one man with what he had wanted to bless the group with.

Difficulty: 5 Local Action Cost: 1 AP +4 nature
-Affect(Bless/Curse/Inspire) a single mortal for the term of their natural life

give him the power to be perfect hunters.
able to move quickly and silently no matter what kind of environment.
his ears can hear the smallest of sounds.
he can track anything that leaves a mark.
his eyes can see better.


New member
Jun 9, 2009
Farenal: 9

The village was quiet as Farenal left Teol to explore. If he was to help man, then he needed to understand these people. It was their problems he sought to aid, to alleviate. Most went about their lives without much fuss or affair. There was a care most of them took to their lives that Farenal didn't quite understand. Each person was different in a thousand ways from any other, each performed a different, segmented task in their community, each had a duty and responsibility to themselves and each other.

The societal structure fascinated Farenal. Each came together in a vast network of interpersonal relationships that furthered the expansion and maintenance of the society. There were farmers producing food, craftsmen creating tools, and warriors dedicated to the protection of the people. All of these things he judged as well and good, but there was no class dedicated to justice. Farenal pondered over that for a long while sitting in the center of the small village, watching the world tick by.

These weren't bad people, he decided. They needed guidance, some of them, to be sure, but most knew what was good, even if they couldn't express it properly. Yet, Farenal realized with dawning understanding, it wasn't enough. The baker might not be covetous, nor the blacksmith lustful, nor the innkeeper's wife vengeful, but they they still lacked a fundamental understanding of what it was to be good, just, orderly. Men needed something to inspire them, someone to look up to. They needed an ideal to aspire to. Slowly, Farenal's mind turned back to Teol.

The elder had been useful to start his work with the mortals, but more was needed. He cast his gaze out, feeling the steady thrum of the traffic of man, building his own little pocket away from the rest of the world. They were few, but many enough that he doubted his power could directly effect every one of them as it had Teol. Now, he would need to take a different approach.

Farenal got up and stood in the exact center of the town before he had any clear idea of what, exactly, he was going to do. Inspiration was building in him. Raising his hands, he began slowly shaping the air as light began to collect between them. At first it was faint and fleeting, but it began to take on a more solid form the longer he worked with it, eventually, just as it was coalescing, just as it neared completion, Farenal lifted the shaft of light overhead and drove it into the earth. The staff would be proof of his power and intent.

Create Heroic Tier Item- DC7, AP2

+4 Justice: Creating a staff of order, an item designed to aid in creating systems of order and justice.