Aesir: Player Submitted Events

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balon!
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Post by balon! »

The War on Ayana pt 2
Odin wrote:Further, their chant is now more powerful, and has taken on a new aspect. The chant speaks of black despair, and of salvation to those who embrace it. Surrounding the Inevitable is a darkness which embodies that despair, a pall of death that causes those who approach with intent to kill to suffer great wracking pains and, should the person maintain this intent within its influence for long enough, death.

The Rocs can still attack with projectiles from far above, but they cannot see where the chanters are clustered. Groups can go into the darkness without dying or falling to the chant, but they cannot see their enemy.

The Inevitable march on, nearly unimipeded. The land is nearly empty of everyone, having been long warned of the approaching danger.

Then, a miracle!! For no reason that you, Char, or anyone else can fathom, just as the Inevitable were approaching the narrowest point between the gulf and the forest, they stumble! The chanting and the darkness are suddenly in tatters! There is yelling within their ranks, and, as the darkness dissipates, you see them running in all directions. Terror is on the faces of some. Horror on others. Heartbreaking sadness. Confusion. On and on. All seem to be looking at various things that none of your followers can see.

At this point, your forces can finally attack for the first time. The huge Cockatrices, Rocs, and Char rip into the mob.

However, some - those like the one who fought Char - are more in control of themselves than the rest. And they begin forcing others back in line; forcing them to concentrate. Groups begin to form around each, and the chant begins again. It strengthens those around them again. They turn back, gathering more, the chant becoming sure and dark again as they retreat. They do not need to go very far before they are themselves again. However, not knowing what happened, they continue for a full day before they stop.
Avatar wrote:But then, the answers provided by your imagination are not only sometimes best, but have the added advantage of being unable to be wrong.
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Han-shan
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Post by Han-shan »

Wasn't there another line at the end of that? Hmmm... Well, I'll let you know if I remember what it is.





;) :lol:
I climb the road to Cold Mountain,
The road to Cold Mountain that never ends.
- Han-shan

We dance round in a ring and suppose,
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.
- Robert Frost

Today was a good day. - Ice Cube
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Agapé
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Post by Agapé »

The two prophets sat around the fire, Leandrea gazing deeply into the flames. The Hunter’s words of Inevitables and Chanters sent fear of the unknown deep in to her being; though she knew Love’s followers would be forever Loved, regardless of any coercion placed upon them. This desert oasis was far from home; far from the lands she knew and had blessed with her Lady’s Love.

Jharvik sat on the edge of the waterline in the oasis, watching Han play and dance with Caelyn; his daughter’s giggle trilling over the water while Han’s glissando voice delighted and enticed her. Jharvik threw a glance in the direction of his wife and the prophet of Animals, and saw the tension and fear radiating out of his beloved. He would stand with her always, though he hoped no harm would come to their daughter from the choices that they made.

He heard Leandrea speaking in the sing-song chant she took on when communing with Agapé, and turned his attention back to Han and Caelyn, watching the water for potential danger as the sun set. Leandrea was attempting to draw The Hunter in to communion with Love, so they would be in accord on how to proceed when they reached their destination. Jharvik understood he himself was Agapé’s Voice, as much as a non-prophet could be, but direct communion with Love was best left for those chosen by Love herself.

Leandrea allowed her fear to dissipate in to the beguiling dancing of the flames, and soon enough the heart-shaped crimson irises with the golden pupils were gazing Lovingly at her. The eyes turned towards The Hunter and Leandrea saw the twinkle of approval pass quickly over them, then change to observe him with due regard. “My Lady,” Leandrea began. “…shhhh, Leandrea,” Agapé responded, still gazing upon The Hunter. “I see you, Lady,” The Hunter then spoke quietly. “And hear you as well. But I answer only to the Great G-d Uruk. You hold no sway over me.”

The eyes blinked in acknowledgment. “That is as it should be, prophet of Uruk. Yet I am glad you have come to know my own prophet. My people who have landed here on the eastern shores of southern Ayana have been approached by the prophet of Death and another, with the invitation to visit Death’s capital. Yet you speak of invasion and coercion by Death’s followers to the north. My prophet must intercede before unexpected harm befalls my people, yet this mountain range stands in the way. Do you know of a way to get across the range quickly? Fast enough to get my prophet and her family to my followers before harm may befall them?”

The Hunter whistled softly to himself while thinking, mimicking various bird song unconsciously. “I believe I have a way to quickly cross the mountains. And I find I have business myself in Hel,” he said, with a feral grin and gleam in his eye. “With the rising of the sun our means of crossing the range will be ready.”

The eyes within the fire glowed with approval, then looked towards Her own prophet while she whispered Her blessing upon them all, “Speak to them of reflecting my Love for them back at each other. And to generate their own in addition to what I send them. For Love is never ending, as you all will learn. The more you give, the less chance you will have of never receiving it in return.”

The eyes slowly faded from the fire and Leandrea rose to make her way over to The Hunter. As she approached her fellow prophet, she untied a bulging pouch that hung at her side, and withdrew a well-wrought silver chain from an inner pocket. Placing a couple of fingers in to the pouch, she momentarily withdrew them, a rainbow reflecting orb perched between her two finger tips. Threading the orb on to the chain, she sought permission to bestow the necklace and pearl on to The Hunter. With a raised brow, he nodded his assent and Leandrea draped the silver chain over his head, allowing the Blessed Pearl to fall upon his bosom. “It is not a talisman of war, for that is not our way,” she tells the other prophet. “And its range is limited at best. But,” and she tosses the leather pouch she had withdrew the pearl from slightly into the air, then catches it again before offering it to The Hunter, “there are 200 such pearls that have the Lady Agapé’s blessing upon them in this pouch. They are now yours to use. Spread them among your Rocs, clergy, and negotiators with the hope they will influence the atmosphere from one of conflict and conquest to one of cooperation and peace.”

The Hunter accepted the pouch of Blessed Pearls, and offered the following advice in return, “Death’s followers can coerce at range via their chanting. As we travel tomorrow, we must decide upon a way to block the sound of their chant from reaching the ears of our people, both human and animal. Let us sleep for now, and be on our way with the dawning of the sun.”

Turning away from the fire, the two prophets see Han silently standing guard over the shoreline, where Jharvik and Caelyn are already huddled together asleep. As Leandrea approached, the infant’s eyes opened and she made soft cooing noises, causing Leandrea to reach for her and hold her to her breast. The Hunter smiled to himself: all animals must feed their young, even the human beast. A powerful prophet is no different.

Leandrea settled in next to Jharvik, Han nodding with approval as she did so. The Hunter settled closer to the fire, gazing towards the moon and sending out a call which would be answered at dawn. Eventually even his eyes closed, and he slept.

The screeching of the giant raptors greeted the rising sun. Leandrea and Jharvik huddled close to Han, Caelyn embraced protectively between them, ready to jump in to the water and have Han whisk them away. “Fear not!” The Hunter called down to them, from the back of one of the huge eagles. “Here is our transportation to the Gates of Hel! We must fly with due haste to attempt to prevent the coercion of your people.”

Jharvik was the first to manage to mount one of the great birds, The Hunter nodding and calling encouragement the entire time. Handing Caelyn up to Jharvik, Leandrea then followed his example, mounting another of the eagles and settling in before retrieving Caelyn and positioning her in her back carrier. Caelyn saw Han standing forlornly in the shallows of the oasis, and made her own calls to him. Han looked at the birds and shook his head, then with a silent splash, disappeared from the site. Caelyn started to whimper, and the force of her power began to radiate throughout the oasis. “We better fly,” Leandrea called to The Hunter. With a fist pump the great birds gave out a screech, and the two prophets, one of Animals, the other of Love with her family rose in to the air to cross the great range and find Love’s people on the other side.
Light of the world, shine on me
Love is the answer
Shine on us all, set us free
Love is the answer

And when you feel afraid, love one another
When you've lost your way, love one another
When you're all alone, love one another
When you're far from home, love one another
When you're down and out, love one another
All your hopes run out, love one another
When you need a friend, love one another
When you're near the end, love one another
We got to love one another
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balon!
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Post by balon! »

bump
Avatar wrote:But then, the answers provided by your imagination are not only sometimes best, but have the added advantage of being unable to be wrong.
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balon!
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Post by balon! »

Waiting for Odin's turns is is both a wonderful and terrible feeling. That's how I know I love this game. :lol:
Odin wrote:The island is surprisingly sparsely populated. The impression you get from the inhabitants is that the island is the site of an ancient great evil. It lay unoccupied for centuries, as none would dare tempt whatever had happened to its original inhabitants. But, over huge stretches of time, the exact nature of the disaster was forgotten, and some dared to return. In time, the population grew.

Your power makes a wheat field bloom like no wheat field has ever bloomed! The growth is twice that of any wheat any have ever seen. Twice as fast, twice as plentiful, twice as healthy. All stand back in wonder.

In truth, a few stand back in fear. An island "known" to be the site of great evil, even if the nature of that evil is not remembered, that suddenly displays anything supernatural is bound to cause concern in some. But the owners of the field invite any to visit the fields. They claim they can literally feel the goodness. "This is not an ill. We are blessed by some power, not cursed. The island's evil is chased away!"
Avatar wrote:But then, the answers provided by your imagination are not only sometimes best, but have the added advantage of being unable to be wrong.
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Garthos the Old
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Post by Garthos the Old »

This is my results from Odin for turn two. I smile every time i read it, had to share ^_^ Always fun to see what Thesomefather is going to do with submissions


The villagers are quite taken aback - as in, terrified! - to see a huge crab crawl out of the surf at low tide one fine morning. It scurries with ridiculous speed to the home of Quint, and breaks the door in. Many people are watching, and hear shouts of surprise and fear from within, and the sound of several heavy objects crashing about. Nearly a minute later, the crab runs back out through the door, holding the giant pearl in one monstrous claw. Quint is close behind, yelling, "THIEF!!!", and carrying a harpoon. With impressive accuracy, he throws the weapon while at a full run, and hits the crab. Alas, the colossal crustacean's carapace is much too thick, and the harpoon bounces off harmlessly.

The crab runs to the beach, and stops several paces from the surf, at the point where the high tide will just engulf it. There, it sits. Immobile, holding the pearl in both huge claws. After ten minutes of throwing things at it, Quint moves closer, and jabs it with the harpoon. After getting no reaction for another few minutes, Quint loses all fear and sanity, and jumps on the crab's back! There he remains, for more than an hour, jumping up and down, shouting ("Bastard!" "Thief!" "Mine! It's mine, you stinking fish-bait!!"), and whacking it with his harpoon like a club.

Exhausted, Quint finally gets down. He remains close for some time, muttering, kicking dirt at the crab from time to time. Finally, he leaves.

As high tide approaches, Quint returns, hoping something will change when the water reaches the crab. And, indeed, something DOES change. A sand sculpture grows out of the sand beneath the crab, lifting it and pearl into the air! The sculpture is of a man, and the crab and pearl are his crown! The man has a net and spear, and his arms are spread wide. Quint has no idea why he recognizes the man, but he does. "Garthos the Old." Many are watching the spectacle, and a few ask him what Garthos the Old is. Quint answers, "I really don't know. I think he's... the sea? It's just a feeling. Like a dream."

Nothing else happens until the tide goes back out. When the water no longer touches the man's feet, the sculpture disappears, and the crab and pearl are on the sand again.

This happens every high tide for three days. On the fourth day, the weather is bad. Fishing boats do not go out. And the sculpture is different. It looms ominious and angry, and terrible tentacles reach out.

All season long, there is a statue at high tide. Every time the weather is good, Garthos the Old has net, spear, and open arms. Every time the weather is bad, he is unpleasant to look at. One day, the weather looks good. Not great. There is a possibility of storm, but it seems unlikely. Garthos does not look happy.

The boats go out.

Two do not return. The storm swept up much too fast for all to return safely.

Quint tells the villagers what he thinks. "Garthos the Old told us it would be bad weather. We didn't listen. We should listen from now on."
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balon!
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Post by balon! »

Thesomefather wrote:One day in Huma, several residents are stunned beyond comprehension. The stream that flows across the land, and empties in the sea not far away, goes through an ancient, man-made pool. It is around this pool that the current village was built. Apparently unused for untold years, it was overgrown, to say the least. Plants had to be removed (a tree that would have been more trouble to remove than seemed worth it was left); stones replaced; nests of various amphibians and snakes cleared out; etc. But it was all worth the effort to have such an easily accessible source of water.

And on this day, at noon, an event that staggers the mind, something beyond all imagination, takes place. Over a period of several minutes, it appears, as best anyone can describe it, that the sunlight... gathered together in the center of the pool. It grew, and grew, and shaped itself into a man! A man that shone like the sun! Even at night, when the moon was out, it glowed.

And thereafter, the water from the pool was miraculously delicious!

The inhabitants cannot help but make the connection between Job's wheat, and the statue. The early dawn - the bits of sunlight - followed by an astonishing harvest at Jobs; and now the statue of sunlight. People are wondering. "Could this be a new beginning for this island? Can it's past be put to rest? Is the rebirth that we hoped to create being aided from... From what? A god? A Sungod??" Most can't help hoping for such a thing, although they dare not hope too hard, lest the disappointment be too great.
Avatar wrote:But then, the answers provided by your imagination are not only sometimes best, but have the added advantage of being unable to be wrong.
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Leaf
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Post by Leaf »

Not as impressive as either of the above, but I'm happy with this start...
The SomeFather wrote:You can't have conversations with the Spirit, since you're no longer Manifested. But you are able to tell it that you are attempting to create companions for it. With your power, you observe it, and try to learn more of what you were able to observe directly last season while you were in its presence. You feel that its core is the ability to inhabit trees. This, you duplicate, and create another Spirit! It is smaller than the old one. Not in physical size, of course, but in power and scope. You know that the old Spirit can do various things, although you do not know exactly what. Your new one is less, even though it is a miracle all its own. It can inhabit trees, and move from one to another. While in a tree, it sees and knows what that tree sees and knows. This includes both the area immediatly around the tree, and the tree itself. If a tree is in need of anything, the Spirit will know it. If there is a nest of some animal nearby, on or in the ground, the Spirit will know it. If the tree is injured, the Spirit knows it.

The mortals are quite impressed. There is nothing to see with physical eyes, and it cannot show any sort of manifestation/aura the way the old Spirit can. But the many who are descended from Velt's people are able to sense its presence. And the old Spirit, in its way, is able to make them aware of the new.

The old Spirit is delighted! It senses its own infancy in the new one. It helps it understand itself, and bring it to fuller awareness.
It's not nice to fool Mother Nature...
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[Syl]
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Post by [Syl] »

Eh, why not?
In one, two hundred miles north of the rune on the west coast, the Judge's warriors have attacked a small village. There are only three thousand inhabitants. This close to the rune, they are always alert for raids, and have a wall of wood and stone around the village. But the raiders were, somehow, able to get in and wreak havoc before being driven out by the defenders. There were many deaths, houses were burned, and the wall is broken in a few places.

Now, the raiders are gathering for a full assault. There are more of them than usual, and the villagers are not optimistic. Perhaps a patrol of rocs will see the smoke in time, and come help. Perhaps not. Perhaps a mage would arrive in time. Perhaps not. Tyeresius was ready for the assault. He was ready to die. His family had been killed, his twin sister raped first, and he was close to insanity. He welcomed the imminent battle.

But then you arrive. You reach into Tyeresius' mind, and give him your name. The look of pain and rage leaves his face for long moments, replaced by bewilderment, and he whispers, "Mynaesos?". For reasons he cannot imagine, he writes your name with his own blood on the large stone of the broken gate. And at that moment, the forces of Death charge.

But as they approach the gate and breaches in the wall, the barbarians slow. Considerably. Moving forward becomes very difficult for them. At first, the defenders are too stunned to take advantage of this, and don't attack as soon as they should. In fact, several barbarians get past the wall, into the village, and suddenly regain their usual speed before the confused defenders are fully in motion. Fortunately, they are quickly dispatched.

The attackers are nearly all slaughtered. Only a few see that something is very wrong, and pull back in time. They run for their boats.

Tyeresius again whispers your name.
"It is not the literal past that rules us, save, possibly, in a biological sense. It is images of the past. Each new historical era mirrors itself in the picture and active mythology of its past or of a past borrowed from other cultures. It tests its sense of identity, of regress or new achievement against that past.”
-George Steiner
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Goatkiller666
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Post by Goatkiller666 »

I ain't doin' nothin'. I got nothing to post about.
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balon!
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Post by balon! »

Syl's turn! They're always worth their weight in gold...
:D
Goatkiller666 wrote:I ain't doin' nothin'. I got nothing to post about.
boo! I bet its a good read nevertheless.
Avatar wrote:But then, the answers provided by your imagination are not only sometimes best, but have the added advantage of being unable to be wrong.
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Goatkiller666
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Post by Goatkiller666 »

Yeah, it really was.
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