No one speaks for me but me, Malice.
I would not oppose a peaceful resolution to the situation. Any terms that we agree upon must include safe passage out your lands for Leviathan. I expect no scale on his body to be touched or mutated.
Pantheon - The Third Age - Game Thread
Moderator: Xar
Very well, Nor Yekith. Dagon wants safe passage for the Leviathan. If you agree to that, the three of us will be at war no longer.
But what about the Void? It is, apparently, difficult for the Void to communicate at all, and actually impossible for it to choose peace or war. Its followers use its power as they will. If its followers continue to attack me, Dagon and I will wipe them out. Does that mean you will attack again?
But what about the Void? It is, apparently, difficult for the Void to communicate at all, and actually impossible for it to choose peace or war. Its followers use its power as they will. If its followers continue to attack me, Dagon and I will wipe them out. Does that mean you will attack again?
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Eugen Razvan
- Giantfriend
- Posts: 330
- Joined: Wed Mar 03, 2004 11:28 am
I agree to these conditions. Dagon, I will not harm, mutate or attempt to control your Leviathan as it leaves my lands.Zephyr wrote:Very well, Nor Yekith. Dagon wants safe passage for the Leviathan. If you agree to that, the three of us will be at war no longer.
I will not attack you, and will request from the Void a term of peace.Zephyr wrote:But what about the Void? It is, apparently, difficult for the Void to communicate at all, and actually impossible for it to choose peace or war. Its followers use its power as they will. If its followers continue to attack me, Dagon and I will wipe them out. Does that mean you will attack again?
As an alternative, since their perfection distresses you, I can remove life from all of them. I am sure Sister death will welcome their souls and would take very good care of them!O-gon-cho wrote:...does this now mean you have the power available to turn the citizens of Dawnstar back into my non-mutated followers
Simply let me know if you would like this gift. *nods*
Nor Yekith,
I cannot wait to see how you intend to carry out your promise to eradicate all trace of me without violating this peace we now have, which you offered. I just hope I am sufficiently prepared.
In the meantime, as has always been the case with my father and me, I will not act against you before you have acted against me. For now, I am happy and grateful for the end of hostilities.
*bow*
I cannot wait to see how you intend to carry out your promise to eradicate all trace of me without violating this peace we now have, which you offered. I just hope I am sufficiently prepared.
In the meantime, as has always been the case with my father and me, I will not act against you before you have acted against me. For now, I am happy and grateful for the end of hostilities.*bow*
I am... well. I am spread impossibly thin. But it is nothing more than the ultimate expression of communing with the Forest. I suppose one could lose one's self in this state, but I have not.
And to answer your next question, Yes! You felt that he is here, and hoped I would be able to find him. I have! And we can bring him back! I am sure of it!
And to answer your next question, Yes! You felt that he is here, and hoped I would be able to find him. I have! And we can bring him back! I am sure of it!
Aww and here I thought that I was one of the best parts of the Second Age, Zephy-poo... *sniffle*Zephyr wrote:Ah! Deities of Eiran! You heard? Wiri will return to us!!! One of the best parts of the Second Age will be with us again!!
Embracing me is to embrace the true way your mind works. Let yourself not be hindered by the false.
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O-gon-cho
- The Gap Into Spam
- Posts: 1441
- Joined: Sun Mar 11, 2007 6:36 pm
- Location: And closing of the eyes - true vision, The Light within became...Within the Light
What does Zephyr know? He was too young to remember.Tarnished Sword wrote:Aww and here I thought that I was one of the best parts of the Second Age, Zephy-poo... *sniffle*Zephyr wrote:Ah! Deities of Eiran! You heard? Wiri will return to us!!! One of the best parts of the Second Age will be with us again!!
...even if I am only technically three years older than he is...
Surprise Mox hugs definitely were one of the best parts of the Second Age!!
Ahh! See?! SEE!?!O-gon-cho wrote:What does Zephyr know? He was too young to remember.Tarnished Sword wrote:Aww and here I thought that I was one of the best parts of the Second Age, Zephy-poo... *sniffle*Zephyr wrote:Ah! Deities of Eiran! You heard? Wiri will return to us!!! One of the best parts of the Second Age will be with us again!!
...even if I am only technically three years older than he is...
Surprise Mox hugs definitely were one of the best parts of the Second Age!!
*Not so suprising but still super special Mox hug*
Mwahaha!!!
Embracing me is to embrace the true way your mind works. Let yourself not be hindered by the false.
The Raffs
-from The Journal of Raffa
A year or so after my re-entry into Eirani society, at the behest of Brid, I travelled to the city of Veria, to investigate the source of certain fervent prayers to my goddess. Veria is a civilised place, where emptying a chamber pot in the street results in a flogging – they have a system of underground ‘sewers’ to remove effluent. It soon became apparent to me as I stalked the Verian streets that the faithful emanations originated beneath my feet, from these sewers. I offered ironic thanks to my mistress for giving me this marvellous opportunity to serve her in such a unique environment!
After I descended (a task not without difficulty for one of my bulk) below street level, I had yet more reason to offer thanks to Brid, for the stench was truly appalling! Being a Prophet has its advantages, however, and I was able to quell my nausea, though I resolved not to buy any local produce after my mission was complete, for it seemed that some local disease must be making its way through the Verian’s guts. A gift from Rothmog, perhaps. Thankfully my Nouka heritage enabled me to make my way without need for a torch, for surely an open flame in those passageways would have ignited some noisome gas.
I sensed that the origin of the prayers came from numerous locations scattered throughout the sewers, and I made my way cautiously towards the closest. When I felt I had arrived at the source (it is by no means an exact science), I was baffled. I was in a long passageway with no intersections and no hiding place for a sentient being, yet there was no-one present. The stench, however, seemed much stronger in this particular sewer. Reasoning that whoever I was searching for was, after all, praying to my own goddess, I decided upon direct action and loudly announced my presence. Accompanied by an almost overpowering surge of the obnoxious odour, a head and shoulder literally popped into being, seemingly from the wall itself. After a long, somewhat frightened look, the rest of the creature emerged, and I realised that it was emerging from a tiny crack, somehow ‘inflating’ itself as it moved into the open.
This was my first viewing of a Raff (though of course that name came later). I looked upon a vaguely humanoid figure, initially smaller than the average human, and there the description begins to defy words. For as I watched, it grew until it was approximately my own size, its features and limbs twisted and changed continually as it gazed at me. I was entranced as the face became almost human and then sagged and melted in horrifying ways. The vision clawed at some primordial part of my being, and if it hadn’t been for my Brid-given strength and resolve, I would surely have run screaming from those sewers, bereft of my sanity. I sensed the creature’s self-loathing, and using all of my willpower and the divine power provided by Brid, I contained my revulsion at its appearance and odour. I introduced myself again, and laying my hands on its shoulder, gave Brid’s blessing.
Communication was difficult. The Raff had not communicated with another being since its creation. Some memory of language remained from its previous existence, but its self-confidence was so low that it had not even conceived of a name for itself, preferring to think of anything rather than its own sorry condition. But I remained in those sewers for four months, and from this and the other Raffs that I sought and found, I pieced together their short, yet tragic history.
They were the result of failed experiments by an insane Verian wizard. This spellcaster had spend years trying to create the perfect doppelganger, a creature that could assume the exact appearance of any individual, at will. The Raffs were his failures, abandoned to their own devices below the town.
Each Raff was unique, but the nature of the magic used upon them meant that they shared many common traits. They were malleable -no part of their body was hard. They had a limited ability to control the shape that they could assume, but it seemed that the concentration necessary to mould their whole bodies was beyond them. Thus they could focus on their face and momentarily make it recognisable as another race, but they were incapable of sustaining it beyond a few moments. A relatively normal limb might last for five minutes. But the concentration required for then trying to adapt a second part of their anatomy would cause the initial effort to disintegrate in a horrifying manner.
The cruellest part of their condition stemmed from the fact that as raw material, the wizard had chosen the finest ‘specimens’ available in Veria – the most intelligent, beautiful, and/or talented individuals who could be persuaded that a life as a doppelganger would be one of power, wealth, and ease. Their minds were unaffected by the experiment, but the horror of their new forms all but destroyed their egos. Each Raff considered themselves the most loathsome individual in all of Eiran. No sense of community had a chance to develop, because only slightly less loathsome than themselves, were the other Raffs that they encountered.
Added to their appearance, a side effect of the magic that affected them all was their stench. No ordinary mortal could be in their presence for more than a minute before being incapacitated by nausea. An unfortunate coincidence was that when they concentrated on making their appearance less gruesome, they released more of the enzymes which caused the stink.
Of course none of this mattered to me, Brid’s Prophet. And it positively endeared them to Brid herself. At her command, and if I am totally truthful, due to not a little of my own pity, I stayed with them and taught them Brid’s dogma. I taught them to take pride in being unique, and to view the disgust of others as weakness in those others, not as a weakness in themselves. I made slow progress at first, but I believe my own behaviour showed them the truth in what I taught, and eventually I succeeded in bringing them together. After this they saw that their faith corresponded directly to their fortitude, and progress became swifter.
The Raffs will never be a sociable race – but that is reason that Brid favours them so much. They can now act together if needed, and their characteristics can only help Brid’s cause. It is almost impossible for a Raff to cause physical harm to another being – being struck by one would be akin to being struck by a pillow wielded by a child. But their appearance and odour can be used as a test of strength for Brid’s other followers, as well as a potentially potent weapon against the followers of other gods, if required. Being so malleable, they can absorb blows from blunt weapons without harm, and even edged or pointed weapons cause very little harm. And of course as demonstrated by my first encounter, they can squeeze themselves into the smallest of cracks or crevasses.
Did Brid call them ‘Raffs’ as a compliment to me? Certainly on occasions they can resemble my hodge-podge, mongrel appearance. But I prefer to think that Brid recognises that they can be just as useful to her as I can. I may have the power of Prophet and certainly, my appearance does me no credit in the world outside Brid’s worship, but my mind and (in its own unique way) my dignity, have always been intact. The Raffs’ rise to functionality shows the power of Brid’s dogma more eloquently than any sermon of mine ever could.
R
Postscript. I rejoice! I have just discovered that the Raffs are a viable race. Two separate offspring have been born to Raff mothers. I will leave it to Brid’s infinite wisdom as to how they will be nurtured!
-from The Journal of Raffa
A year or so after my re-entry into Eirani society, at the behest of Brid, I travelled to the city of Veria, to investigate the source of certain fervent prayers to my goddess. Veria is a civilised place, where emptying a chamber pot in the street results in a flogging – they have a system of underground ‘sewers’ to remove effluent. It soon became apparent to me as I stalked the Verian streets that the faithful emanations originated beneath my feet, from these sewers. I offered ironic thanks to my mistress for giving me this marvellous opportunity to serve her in such a unique environment!
After I descended (a task not without difficulty for one of my bulk) below street level, I had yet more reason to offer thanks to Brid, for the stench was truly appalling! Being a Prophet has its advantages, however, and I was able to quell my nausea, though I resolved not to buy any local produce after my mission was complete, for it seemed that some local disease must be making its way through the Verian’s guts. A gift from Rothmog, perhaps. Thankfully my Nouka heritage enabled me to make my way without need for a torch, for surely an open flame in those passageways would have ignited some noisome gas.
I sensed that the origin of the prayers came from numerous locations scattered throughout the sewers, and I made my way cautiously towards the closest. When I felt I had arrived at the source (it is by no means an exact science), I was baffled. I was in a long passageway with no intersections and no hiding place for a sentient being, yet there was no-one present. The stench, however, seemed much stronger in this particular sewer. Reasoning that whoever I was searching for was, after all, praying to my own goddess, I decided upon direct action and loudly announced my presence. Accompanied by an almost overpowering surge of the obnoxious odour, a head and shoulder literally popped into being, seemingly from the wall itself. After a long, somewhat frightened look, the rest of the creature emerged, and I realised that it was emerging from a tiny crack, somehow ‘inflating’ itself as it moved into the open.
This was my first viewing of a Raff (though of course that name came later). I looked upon a vaguely humanoid figure, initially smaller than the average human, and there the description begins to defy words. For as I watched, it grew until it was approximately my own size, its features and limbs twisted and changed continually as it gazed at me. I was entranced as the face became almost human and then sagged and melted in horrifying ways. The vision clawed at some primordial part of my being, and if it hadn’t been for my Brid-given strength and resolve, I would surely have run screaming from those sewers, bereft of my sanity. I sensed the creature’s self-loathing, and using all of my willpower and the divine power provided by Brid, I contained my revulsion at its appearance and odour. I introduced myself again, and laying my hands on its shoulder, gave Brid’s blessing.
Communication was difficult. The Raff had not communicated with another being since its creation. Some memory of language remained from its previous existence, but its self-confidence was so low that it had not even conceived of a name for itself, preferring to think of anything rather than its own sorry condition. But I remained in those sewers for four months, and from this and the other Raffs that I sought and found, I pieced together their short, yet tragic history.
They were the result of failed experiments by an insane Verian wizard. This spellcaster had spend years trying to create the perfect doppelganger, a creature that could assume the exact appearance of any individual, at will. The Raffs were his failures, abandoned to their own devices below the town.
Each Raff was unique, but the nature of the magic used upon them meant that they shared many common traits. They were malleable -no part of their body was hard. They had a limited ability to control the shape that they could assume, but it seemed that the concentration necessary to mould their whole bodies was beyond them. Thus they could focus on their face and momentarily make it recognisable as another race, but they were incapable of sustaining it beyond a few moments. A relatively normal limb might last for five minutes. But the concentration required for then trying to adapt a second part of their anatomy would cause the initial effort to disintegrate in a horrifying manner.
The cruellest part of their condition stemmed from the fact that as raw material, the wizard had chosen the finest ‘specimens’ available in Veria – the most intelligent, beautiful, and/or talented individuals who could be persuaded that a life as a doppelganger would be one of power, wealth, and ease. Their minds were unaffected by the experiment, but the horror of their new forms all but destroyed their egos. Each Raff considered themselves the most loathsome individual in all of Eiran. No sense of community had a chance to develop, because only slightly less loathsome than themselves, were the other Raffs that they encountered.
Added to their appearance, a side effect of the magic that affected them all was their stench. No ordinary mortal could be in their presence for more than a minute before being incapacitated by nausea. An unfortunate coincidence was that when they concentrated on making their appearance less gruesome, they released more of the enzymes which caused the stink.
Of course none of this mattered to me, Brid’s Prophet. And it positively endeared them to Brid herself. At her command, and if I am totally truthful, due to not a little of my own pity, I stayed with them and taught them Brid’s dogma. I taught them to take pride in being unique, and to view the disgust of others as weakness in those others, not as a weakness in themselves. I made slow progress at first, but I believe my own behaviour showed them the truth in what I taught, and eventually I succeeded in bringing them together. After this they saw that their faith corresponded directly to their fortitude, and progress became swifter.
The Raffs will never be a sociable race – but that is reason that Brid favours them so much. They can now act together if needed, and their characteristics can only help Brid’s cause. It is almost impossible for a Raff to cause physical harm to another being – being struck by one would be akin to being struck by a pillow wielded by a child. But their appearance and odour can be used as a test of strength for Brid’s other followers, as well as a potentially potent weapon against the followers of other gods, if required. Being so malleable, they can absorb blows from blunt weapons without harm, and even edged or pointed weapons cause very little harm. And of course as demonstrated by my first encounter, they can squeeze themselves into the smallest of cracks or crevasses.
Did Brid call them ‘Raffs’ as a compliment to me? Certainly on occasions they can resemble my hodge-podge, mongrel appearance. But I prefer to think that Brid recognises that they can be just as useful to her as I can. I may have the power of Prophet and certainly, my appearance does me no credit in the world outside Brid’s worship, but my mind and (in its own unique way) my dignity, have always been intact. The Raffs’ rise to functionality shows the power of Brid’s dogma more eloquently than any sermon of mine ever could.
R
Postscript. I rejoice! I have just discovered that the Raffs are a viable race. Two separate offspring have been born to Raff mothers. I will leave it to Brid’s infinite wisdom as to how they will be nurtured!
Quote:
"The cult of Melirelle continues its worship, calling for the goddess to return."
She had heard the stories from her father, Bhakti, and mother, Jove, about Melirelle, the ancient womb goddess - earth goddess. The Nhruuk had many tales passed through the generations about her. About her beginning and her supposed end. There were even some fanatical Nhruuk who still worshipped her within Calais' own cities. Even the threat of death did not stop this cult. Unable to halt the worship of this other Earth goddess without using power was maddening! Melirelle's worship was spreading and her followers were becoming increasingly persistent, detracting from the greatness Calais had achieved.
Yet, Calais was highly intrigued by this other Earth goddess. How could Melirelle still inspire people after having been gone for so long? Calais' curiosity got the better of her. She *had* to know where Melirelle's power came from. She had searched Imray for any sign of the ancient goddess - down to the deepest parts of the earth. Eiran had changed, different from the old maps father had shown her. The continents had drifted, the ocean had swallowed some and revealed others. The long, black gash of the Abyss cut through Eiran, further disturbing the earth.
Calais searched the southern continents, seeing the disease of Rothmog and the flesh pits of Nor Yekith. She had passed over the forests of Shaldir and felt the drip of evil from divine sun. She studied Halym, seeing Deva's union with that continent. Returning home to Imray, Calais saw the earth covered in the blood of war and conflict between followers and deities who claimed the land for themselves.
Calais was ready to give up then, sure that any sign of Melirelle was gone. She could put down with certainty the cult and put it to death forever.
Then, she paused. Just off the coast of Imray, she percieved a faint lingering remain of Melirelle's power - ancient remnants, undoubtedly there since the Second Age. Calais raced toward the power - subtle, yet commanding. It beckoned her down, down to the warm depths of the Earth.
And there - a treasure trove!
"The cult of Melirelle continues its worship, calling for the goddess to return."
She had heard the stories from her father, Bhakti, and mother, Jove, about Melirelle, the ancient womb goddess - earth goddess. The Nhruuk had many tales passed through the generations about her. About her beginning and her supposed end. There were even some fanatical Nhruuk who still worshipped her within Calais' own cities. Even the threat of death did not stop this cult. Unable to halt the worship of this other Earth goddess without using power was maddening! Melirelle's worship was spreading and her followers were becoming increasingly persistent, detracting from the greatness Calais had achieved.
Yet, Calais was highly intrigued by this other Earth goddess. How could Melirelle still inspire people after having been gone for so long? Calais' curiosity got the better of her. She *had* to know where Melirelle's power came from. She had searched Imray for any sign of the ancient goddess - down to the deepest parts of the earth. Eiran had changed, different from the old maps father had shown her. The continents had drifted, the ocean had swallowed some and revealed others. The long, black gash of the Abyss cut through Eiran, further disturbing the earth.
Calais searched the southern continents, seeing the disease of Rothmog and the flesh pits of Nor Yekith. She had passed over the forests of Shaldir and felt the drip of evil from divine sun. She studied Halym, seeing Deva's union with that continent. Returning home to Imray, Calais saw the earth covered in the blood of war and conflict between followers and deities who claimed the land for themselves.
Calais was ready to give up then, sure that any sign of Melirelle was gone. She could put down with certainty the cult and put it to death forever.
Then, she paused. Just off the coast of Imray, she percieved a faint lingering remain of Melirelle's power - ancient remnants, undoubtedly there since the Second Age. Calais raced toward the power - subtle, yet commanding. It beckoned her down, down to the warm depths of the Earth.
And there - a treasure trove!
Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. There is no fear in love; for perfect love cast out fear.