[PDQ] Rise of the Divines: A Godgame RP - Game Thread (Closed, Started)

[SirPlindington]

Odanda, Harrowgate

"First Dreamer... I'm sorry."

The First Dreamer shook. The temple was silent. A few dreamers attended the wounds of their peers, but the rest either mourned or slept. The First Dreamer, in the absence of drink, had been skulking and thinking angry thoughts at Odanda.

"I've got nothing to say to... Did you just apologize?"

The First Dreamer heard the Whisperer sigh. "Yes, I apologized. I was wrong. I put my followers in danger, and they suffered for it, with nothing to show for their sacrifice." Her voice took on a shaky quality in his mind. "I felt them die, Dreamer. It was like losing a piece of my mind. So I'm apologizing. I did everyone wrong, you most of all. You've been loyal, obedient, and necessary. An equal."

"Um... Yes, good, right."

"And as an equal, I need you to help me. I need you to gather up the dreamers, make yourself look respectable, and turn yourself in to Swalsby."

"My Lady... If I might, as an equal, speak frankly, your plans don't have a great record of turning out the way you want them to."

"I don't have a plan. I have no idea what he'll do. All I know is that it'll get me another chance to convert him, and if worst comes to worst, well, public executions always make large crowds." Her voice softened. "Please. I'm putting myself into as much danger as you are. I need this."

The First Dreamer knew he couldn't turn her down. So he gathered up the functioning dreamers, made them wash and dress, and marched them out the door. Within the hour, the First Dreamer and his followers found themselves in the throne room, surrounded by guards and facing a very confused Lord Swalsby. The First Dreamer took a breath, and, with the Whisperer feeding him words, rose to speak.

"My Lord, you know me in many ways. A petitioner, a rioter, a fellow connoisseur. I come here to confess our crimes, but also to tell you what they are in service of. I am a servant of a greater being, a goddess of dreams and thought. I am her prophet, sent to spread her word, and all we have ever done has been to accomplish those goals. So while we throw ourselves upon your mercy, but we hope you will welcome hers."

"Really," Swalsby said incredulously, "That's your story. You are a prophet. In service of... What was it? A goddess of dreams and thought?"

"I know you don't believe it," the First Dreamer said, "but it is the truth. Open your mind to her, and you will understand."

And at that moment, Odanda reached out, praying, though she did not know to who, that Swalsby would fall to her.

Spoiler: Actions

Inspire a single mortal for the duration of his life DC 5 [1 AP +2]

 

[Terratina.]

Vul - Tirias

The dragon dissolved back into the lava with one last roar, and its master followed it into the deep, subterranean currents underneath the earth. As a result of that, the volcano rumbled, worrying the islanders. Little cracks appeared in the great wall, but nothing more. In desperation, some of them picked at the cracks. However, the wall was just too strong.

[hr]

Archon - Swansdale

In contrast to the deity's explosive start, as power started to flow through the YSH, the only sound that could be heard from it was a low hum. At least for the moment, everything was in equilibrium - the unstable core made stable by forces that kept the power contained. Though, one crack, and the equilibrium would collapse...

[hr]

Quas - The Grey Trail

Various cries of goodbye followed Quas's exit. Though, something intrigued the miners - other gods? It was said that the people of the mountains revered the earth and that the people of a distant island worshiped a volcano spirit out of fear, but surely that was just superstition? Regardless of their thoughts, Quas soon found himself on to the road to the Heartlands, and beyond that, Frostcliff.

[hr]

Raetic - Northlands

The ride was a bumpy one, not to mention the fact that every woman, child and old-timer had been crammed into the wagon Raetic was in. The men, naturally, rode on horseback or if they were getting on in years, drove the wagons seated with whip in hand. A village could be seen in the distance, and it wouldn't be very long 'til they arrived.

[hr]

Syv - The Winding Road

The gleeman dived as pieces of gold hit the ground. He couldn't believe his luck, but with a bite of a coin, he could believe that the coins were made out of pure gold. Greedily, the gleeman stuffed them into his bag, only pausing to give his dog a pat on the head. Syv, of course, was far away from that and from cold Frostcliff - the Heartlands lay before him.

[hr]

Yua - The Cerulean Crevice

With an almighty bang, the demi-goddess of destruction expelled her adversities from the sea. However, there was unforeseen consequences, the explosion caused an earthquake and Tirias disapeared off the map. Yua was pushed even deeper underwater, to a place where dark things lived. That didn't matter anyway, as Yua had destroyed herself with such an action.

[hr]

Mhioden - Silverdock

Another vision came to the magpie, one of the six merchant princes and their locations: Agostino was counting his coin, Ambrogio was feasting on honeyed treats, Antonello was admiring roses in his vast garden, Aureliano was reading a book to his young son, Baldassare was overlooking the dock workers, and Gaspere was there with his twin.

[hr]

Odanda - Harrowgate

"The Lady speaks!" Swalsby whispered as he dropped the glass of sherry he was holding as he realised the truth, "Forgive me, as... madmen and the like seem to be the norm for our little province of Mortmire, as are unfounded rumors." Swalsby waited for a servant to clear up the mess before he continued, "However, in light of the evidence, I welcome Odanda to Harrowgate and to my heart."

[hr]

Spoiler: OOC

[HEADING=1]Rolls[/HEADING]

Archon: Grant transmittable immortality of a sort to a small group of humans [http://orokos.com/roll/133683]: 2d6+2 13
Yua: Cause an explosion that would cause major changes to the world's structure [http://orokos.com/roll/133689]: 2d6+2 10
Mhioden: Find mortals who are capable of hiding from you [http://orokos.com/roll/133690]: 2d6+2 13
Odanda: Inspire a single mortal for the duration of his life [http://orokos.com/roll/133692]: 2d6+2 11

 

[EmperorZuma]

Archon - Swansdale

The god smiled at the sight of another successful invention, and then quickly spent the rest of the night quickly churning out more copies of the device. By the time Rickon returned to the workshop, Archon had several stacks of the YSH surrounding him. "Woah, and these are?"

"If I did what I think I did, they should make whomever wears them immortal." Archon mentioned their extraordinary ability as if reciting some boring fact off-hand, as his attention was drawn to his goggle. At the moment he was replaying an event Hawke had captured on its way to Frostcliff, the scene of a shadow grasping a dog. "Interesting..." Archon rotated the lens of the goggle to cycle through several filters, finally settling on one that showed a brilliant aura surrounding the supposed shadow. "That's it! That power, that thing's like me!" The god jumped from his seat and practically danced around the floor. "There are more like me, what wonders become possible, it boggles the mind. Oh how I wish I put something in that bird that made it remotely controllable!" Archon sighed as he returned to the desk where Hawke was born, a small red button now sitting on the corner of it. "Guess I'll just have to settle for this..." With a deft jab, Archon pressed the button.

The sound of rummaging almost drew Archon's attention, but soon realized it was just Rickon. "What does that button do?"

"Tell Hawke to come back, so I can give him new orders." Archon hummed a little tune to himself as he saw Hawke turning back towards the workshop when it received the signal. "I do hope that thing doesn't go to far. Oh, maybe he's coming-Rickon! What did you do!?" The god gasped as he saw Rickon approach, wearing a Youth Sustaining Harness (tm).

"What? You said this thing makes you immortal right? I thought you wouldn't mind if I took one. I mean, you have so many. But, if you want it back..." Rickon moved to remove the harness, but Archon grabbed his hands before he could.

"No! Rickon, the harness is unstable! It sustains you indefinitely, yes, but you won't age and can't take it off or you'll die!" Archon let go of the boy's hands as he staggered backward, into the railing.

"What...you mean, I'm stuck being a kid forever?!" Rickon started to hyperventilate, collapsing against the side of railing.

"Rickon...I-" Archon was about to try and comfort the boy, but a shouting from the bottom floor grabbed his attention.

"Great Archon! Where are you?!" The sound of many footsteps echoed up the tower, as the god descended to find several villagers and Automatons entering, most carrying what closely resembled corpses. "Mighty Archon, bandits attacked several farms to the west!" An elderly woman leading the group approached Archon, deeply bowing as she spoke. "My son and his family, along with our neighbors were killed in the attack. Please Archon, can you do anything for them!"

"Creator..." Proto approached from behind Archon, pointing to a couple of Automatons carrying a few of their lifeless brothers with them. "...it appears as if some Automatons were rendered inoperable by these 'bandits' as well."

"Yes...they were helping tend the to the crops when the bandits arrived. We asked them protect us. They tried...but they were too slow and stiff to fight men on horseback. Though, they did buy those of us too weak to fight back time to hide."

"Creator, is it not in your power to restore their function?" Proto's head cocked to its side as Archon turned to face the Automaton in confusion. However, before the god could question why should he bring repair the Automatons, the old woman burst back into hysterics.

"Oh, can you, great Archon?! Please, I am nothing without my family, I am too old to support myself, and my grandchildren were in their prime! Please give them back to me!" The woman broke down into sobbing, with the rest of the mob continuing their own pleading to bring their loved ones back to life.

Archon, flustered after being assailed from all sides, riased one hand and shouted to the ceiling. "SILENCE!" The mob soon quieted and at last the god could think again. With the knowledge of the YSH still fresh in his mind, Archon did believe he could bring these recently dead back to life. However, after seeing Rickon's reaction, should he?

Apparently seeing their god simply ponder their plight did not appease the crowd, as they began their ranting anew. Claiming of falsehood were the most shouted at the god, and Archon couldn't help but feel the sting of their harsh words. "Bring all the dead in here!" Archon finally bellowed, moved back towards the higher tiers of the workshop. "I will do what I can to restore them!"

A collection of praise and thanks filled the room as Archon ascended, only to come back down with a collection of spare cores from his YSH project. Using both the mechanical arms of the workshop and the Automatons in the room for assistance, Archon worked to install these cores into the dead. With a few adjustments, the god hoped that the cores would renew the bodies and bring them back to life, without bestowing immortality upon them. At the same time, Archon helped Proto repair the Automatons that had followed their orders to the death.

Spoiler: Action

Raise a small number of dead mortals (Victims of Bandit Attack~30)-DC:9 [+2 Magical Artifice]

 

[Pappytech]

Raetic - Northlands

It had taken a while to get to the village, but Raetic hadn't particularly minded. The wagon may have been cramped, but it had been easy enough to catch a nap every now and then, and the kids weren't that annoying. Whiny, smelly, and too curious for their own good, maybe, but not something worth getting angry over.

Still, it was with no small amount of relief that the god finally leaped out of the wagon and took a good, hard look at his destination. Taking the opportunity to stretch his disused muscles, Raetic eyed the village with a somewhat critical gaze. After hearing some of the old lady's stories, his expectations for the place might have been a bit... high.

A far cry from either disappointing or impressive, the village floated somewhere in the middle. Judging by the herds and bushels of hay and other crops, it wasn't in any danger of starving away, but aside from a few aged statues there were no signs of heroes or warriors of legend. It was just a collection of buildings, neither lost in squalor nor held aloft in greatness.

"Eh," the deity muttered, idly waving a hand, "it'll do."

His mind made up, Raetic began to slowly make his way around the town, lightly dragging his feet through the dirt as he walked. The purpose of his journey was two-fold: it gave him a good look at the entireity of the village's small circumference, and afforded him the opportunity to trace a series of runes and symbols into the ground around it.

And when he had completed the circuit, coming back to the still unloading wagons and crowd of curious onlookers, the god simply stamped on his finished array once, twice, three times. The runes that now encircled the village glowed emerald for a brief instant, and Raetic allowed a slight smile to waltz across his face.

"Mine."

Spoiler: Actions

Create a weak permanent enchantment: DC 9 [+2 Runes]

Any divine beings or constructs that try to enter the village or use their powers to affect it will be able to feel Raetic's lingering influence. It won't stop them, only tell them that they are encroaching upon another deity's territory. In addition, Raetic is notified of any incursions.

 

[HellsingerAngel]

The Heartlands

Out of the freezing tundra and into the sunny plains; it wasn?t the most colourful metaphor but it was certainly the most accurate. Syv had finally made its way into the Heartlands and for miles on end it could only see fields of golden wheat and the greenest of grasses. As the deity streaked through the farms and fields it was in awe of the stark contrast it presented to Frostcliff so quickly. The sun never seemed to touch any of the towns twisted around the large spires and mountainous terrain the snowcaps provided and its warmth was welcoming to the trickster. As if its dead set attitude had been a block of ice, it quickly melted away at the first rays kissing its amorphous form. Syv quickly reformed itself lying down, staring up at the sky in childish wonderment as it spread its cloaked body out wide. It wanted to catch as much glorious warmth as it could while it had time.

Maybe a little pit stop wouldn?t be so bad?

Spoiler: Actions

PRAISE THE SUN!!!: Effortless

 

 

[SirPlindington]

Odanda, Harrowgate

For the first time in a long while, Odanda was happy. Sure, she hadn't, from a purely mathematical standpoint, accomplished much of anything, but now, for the first time, she had options! So many, many options! Through the First Dreamer's eyes, she looked around the throne room, at the faces of the courtiers, all so very shocked and confused. Well, she'd show them. "Instruct Swalsby to have them leave," she whispered. "I need to speak with him in private. The First Dreamer spoke, and Lord Swalsby hurriedly ordered his council out. Once they were all gone, the First Dreamer spoke again.

"Our Lady would ask two things of you, my Lord. As you might know, our current quarters are... Lacking. A temple worthy of the Lady's grandeur would be more impressive, no? More inductive to new followers. And thus she would ask that of you. A haven for dreamers, such as you and I. Her next request is much simpler. She would ask that you gather the townsfolk for her, so that she might speak to them. The Lady would ask these things of you, and many more in future, and in return, she grants you the promise of an empire, dominion over all of her worshipers, and the most beautiful dreams you have ever known. Does that sound fair to you?" The Lord simply nodded, and told them to go to the square in an hour. The townsfolk would be there. The First Dreamer bowed graciously, and swept out the door, his congregation in tow. As he left, he heard a whisper. "Nicely delivered." He nodded his thanks and kept on his way.

The Lord delivered on his promise. Within the hour, a throng of hundreds was milling restlessly about in the square, wondering what Swalsby had brought them there for. The dreamers took their place in front of the crowd, and the First Dreamer stepped onto a hastily erected podium, listened to Odanda whisper, and began to speak. He preached for hours and hours, extolling the Lady's virtues and apologizing profusely for the events of two weeks ago. When the command to end the speech came, the First Dreamer was confused. As the crowd began to disappear, he said, "My Lady... You forgot to, er, convert them. I thought that was the point of this."

"I was desperate before," she replied. "Now, I can wait until they sleep, when I will be stronger. I was only ensuring that enough of them would think of me as they slept before ending the speech. Action will come later. The seed has been planted."

That night, in the den in the swamps, Odanda reached out. That night, in the houses of the city, hundreds of people had the same dream, of a beautiful woman with a thousand arms, whispering beautiful temptations.

Spoiler: Actions

Inspire a large group of humans (several hundred) with permanent, ongoing effects - DC 9 [+2 Dreams]

 

[MortifiedPenguin]

Mhioden - Silverdock

Wrought into the magpie's mind were images of the princes and their locations: the gluttonous Ambrogio, the greedy Agostino, the vain Antonello, the benevolent Aureliano, the stern Baldassare and the rueful Gaspere. Each on an enemy that needed to be conquered, each one an ally to be used; out of the six who would rise up and who would fall? Flying away on her dark wings, Mhioden visited each of the hexad, whispering to them, that they should seek out the unworldly black and white bird, else something unfortunate might befall them. A rhyme was left on their lips, slipping out in mutterings and murmurs, finding it's way into the story Aureliano was telling his child.

<spoiler=Actions>

Inspiring a small group of mortals (less than 50) for their entire lives DC: 7 (+2 Secrets)

 

[Terratina.]

Archon - Swansdale

Archon and Proto got to work as the cores worked their magic on the dead bodies. However, the cores did not work as intended. Only some small mercy - probably a result of the adjustments - saved Swandale from being blasted off the map. Popping sounds and rumbling could be heard as the cores exploded, and sent the body parts of both human and Automaton corpses flying everywhere.

[hr]


Quas - The Gray Trail

The path of a god, especially of one such as Quas, was a lonely one. In spite of Quas's desire for companionship, he found none during his travels. Farmers looked on in fear as they spotted the giant centipede, thinking that a giant pest had come to gobble up all their previous crops. But they sighed in relief as the figure faded from sight, and Quas disappeared from the world of Oriscos.

[hr]

Raetic - Northlands

The tribespeople looked on as Raetic scribbled his runes in the ground, puzzled. The fact that the runes themselves gave a brief emerald glow puzzled them even more. Nevertheless, when a kid accidentally knocked some snow - from a missed snowball - into the god's runes, he found they were just as easy to mess with as any other mark in the ground.

[hr]

Syv - The Heartlands

As Syv soaked itself in the sun's warmth, the god found that new-found power circulated throughout its body alongside the heat. But the god's relaxation was interrupted by a messenger called Smythe. He reigned in his nag so that he wouldn't trample the poor thing and poked it with his riding crop, unsure whether it would be suitable to tell it of the newly arisen Archon.

[hr]

Odanda - Harrowgate

The sleepers gave in to temptation. They reached out to the woman with a thousand arms, and each was in the palm of her many hands. It felt good, almost like being cradled in their mother's arms, and the whispers spoke of wonderful things - how could they resist? Odanda found herself invigorated by the influx of new followers and that her arms could reach even further...

[hr]


Mhioden - Silverdock

Aureliano stumbled as strangely familar words found their way into his mouth, Agostino broke out into laughter, Ambrogio attended to the birdhouse in his garden, Antonello carefully snipped an exquisite specimen and held the rose to his nose, Baldassare and Gaspere both nodded to each other and left the docks, giving the dock workers a break. All took up Mhioden's invitation.

[hr]

Ahlgren - Sunderspire Mountains

By the source of the largest of the Three Sisters, the feathery god stirred. Apart from the signs of the start of summer, Queenqelle looked its normal self. Near the base of a small mountain, the sheltered spot presented the gentle, graceful side of nature to its visitors. Yet, that wouldn't last. A cacophony of hooves and horns woke up every creature in the vicinity. They would come soon...

[hr]

Theodrid - Riverlands

The group of would-be exorcists gasped in surprise as both allies and enemies alike exploded, covering the mansion walls, and the people unfortunate to be there, in blood. The lordling's minions laughed as they witnessed the rebirth of their master while the adventurers readied their weapons. Both parties were unsure whether they would be alive after the bloody birth of the new deity...

[hr]

Spoiler: OOC

[HEADING=1]Rolls[/HEADING]

Archon - Raise a small number of dead mortals [http://orokos.com/roll/135053]: 2d6+2 6
Raetic - Create a weak permanent enchantment [http://orokos.com/roll/135058]: 2d6+2 6
Odanda - Inspire a large group of humans (several hundred) with permanent, ongoing effects [http://orokos.com/roll/135060]: 2d6+2 11
Mhioden - Inspiring a small group of mortals (less than 50) for their entire lives [http://orokos.com/roll/135062]: 2d6+2 10

Notes: Syv and Odanda have reached Rank Two, and receive a new rank they can put into the domains they have or into a new domain of their choice. For example, if a player put it into their god's River [+2] domain, they could become the god of All Rivers [+4], or acquire a new domain, such as Music [+2]. Do not fret, some of you are *very* near reaching Rank Two as well.

Ahlgren's and Theodrid's sheets can be found on the usergroup's page.

 

[EmperorZuma]

Archon - Swansdale

"OH MY GOD!" The old woman almost exploded herself at the sight of her son and relatives blow apart from the inside. Similar responses came from the rest of the mob as body parts started to rain down from on high.

After all the pieces hit the ground, there was silence, as Archon couldn't even bear to turn and see the horror he knew was on the townspeoples' faces. Finally, the silence was broken, by the old woman no less, with a loud cry. "Cheat! Charlatan! Look what you've done, look!"

Steeling himself, Archon finally turned to see a human arm forced into his face. "See what you have done, so-called-god! My family is now in so many pieces I can't even recognize them! You said you would bring them back from death, and now I can't even give them a proper burial!" The woman continued her cries of hatred between heavy sobs, weakening her frail body so much that her son's arm dropped to the floor. The rest of the mob followed suit, claiming themselves foolish to believe Archon's promises. The god, in utter humility, simply stood and let them have at him.

Their cries only stopped when Proto and his fellow Automatons ushered the group outside. Though, some of the robots simply stood in silence, cataloging where all the pieces of their former brothers had fallen. Once the mob was outside, though now banging on the workshop doors, Proto approached his creator. "What will you do now?"

"I...don't know..." Archon looked at the pieces that littered the floor, and then to Rickon, who appeared to still be in shock. "How...how could it have gone so wrong?"

"The power cores, while weakened by your work, were still too unstable. The jolt of awakening was too-"

"That's...not what I meant. All my work, my promises of a greater tomorrow...they seem undone by this." Archon fell to his knees and began to absentmindedly gather the pieces of dead farmers. "I can feel their faith leave me, sapping me of my strength. Their words are poisoning the well of my power, and...they're absolutely right to do so."

Proto knelt down and assisted Archon in his task. "Your power still remains, could you not simply rally the people back to your side with a grand gesture, or....delete this memory from their consciousness?"

Archon paused in the middle of grabbing a foot. He held that pose for a moment, considering if he could build a device to pull people to his cause, to make them believe him, rather than hoping their faith would come after seeing some miracle. "No..." Archon shook the mad invention from his mind. "...I may now fear that these other beings are growing stronger, while I am left to deal with just this small town, but I won't force conversion."

"Then what will you do?" Archon looked over to see that Proto had actually completed putting an individual person together, though the pieces were still separated.

"Wha-how did you do that?!"

"There are minute differences in how the humans broke apart, and not all distinguishing features have been destroyed." Proto gestured to the other Automatons, who had also started to reunited the peoples' pieces into a recognizable form.

"That's amazing!" Archon, now seemingly pulled out of his depression, start to scurry around the workshop, looking for something. Proto soon followed, casually looking over Archon's shoulder.

"What are you doing, creator?"

"I'm going to put all these humpty dumpties back together again!" Archon finally pulled out what he was apparently looking for from a drawer, a spool of sparkling thread. "Ah, here it is! Let's see if I can't still show these people I'm worthy of worship!" Scurrying back downstairs, Archon worked to stitch each person back together again using the special thread.

The thread's power became clear after the god was done with the first person, as it actually appeared to mend flesh and bone, bringing the pieces back into a complete corpse! Once the bodies were sewn back together, Archon worked to make more cores, this time focusing on modifying their power production.

Eventually, the scene turned into a familiar one, with even the blown-apart Automatons repaired to a complete, thought lifeless, state. Archon, along with the Automatons who helped him, moved to a safe distance. "Creator, will the cores be sufficient to restore their function at such a weakened state?"

Archon shrugged as a finger lingered over the button to remotely start-up the implanted cores. "It should, either these people wake up from death, or they don't, but at least they shouldn't explode. I've put everything I could into the new designs for these cores." After one good look to make sure the nothing would get too damaged in case of another (however unlikely) explosion, Archon pressed the button.

Spoiler: Action

Raise a small number of dead mortals (Victims of Bandit Attack...and Archon's Failed Experiment~30)-DC:11 [+2 Magical Artifice] [+2 Domainless]

 

[Ruedyn]

Ahlgren - Sunderspire Mountains

"Ohohoho... guests."

The god grinned wide in the dark, looking far into the distance. Oh so many folk, and he didn't recognize a single face. How arrogant to assume one can simply enter the same forest as one so great, and take his pets and scenery! He'dd merely kill them with a pack of wolves. Or perhaps a bear.

But people had other uses. He was a god now, after all.

The Sprite walked on the air, practically skipping with a trail of green dust following after him as he approached the hunters. They noticed him despite their many horses and horns, as they should have. A smirk replaced his malicious grin as he cleared his throat, looking down on their pathetic, mortal crew.

"Good morrow, heathens!" he began, giving a wide wave of his hand, looking down on the hairless mongrels. "You seem to be lost, or perhaps you simply don't know... regardless of your mental state, I give you lot ONE chance here; the deal of a lifetime!"

The sprite dropped down, landing on the head of a horse as light as a feather. His eyes seemed to glow with wrath as he stated clearly,

"Bend knee or bleed in my forest."

There was blessed silence for a moment, whether that was shock or indignation didn't matter much to him. Perhaps he should have a show of his divinity? Ahlgren was always a fan of shows of force! A malicious glint in his eye made it apparent he wasn't joking, and he tried his best to hide his hands as he brought a tree to life. A simple ent could do much to this lowly group...

 

[SirPlindington]

Odanda - Harrowgate

"Tomorrow, I am leaving for the Sunderspire Mountains."The chamber erupted in madness.

Odanda glanced about at the assembled dreamers. The dignified Master of the Guard Brendin Aree, old and decrepit in life, tall and proud in his dream, and foppish young Captain Lotiv, dreaming himself crisp and military, and of course fat Swalsby as he must have been 30 years ago, when he was still an insignificant nobleman carving Harrowgate's place out of the grime and muck with words and steel. The First Dreamer stood by her side. He, of course, already knew of this. Odanda, for her part, had taken the form of a giant woman with a thousand arms and no face. Its effect was clearly awe inspiring, and besides, she was comfortable like this. All were arranged on cushions of air high in the air, with all of their courtiers and advisors standing behind them. She had taken to conducting her meetings inside of the collective unconscious, so that she might better address her followers. It made giving orders much easier.

"Oh, hush. This day had to come. I've brought a third of Mortmire under my heel, and more every day, but what of it? Should I remain stagnant, like the water in the marsh? I promised an empire, but Mortmire is a dismal, if dear, strip of land at the edge of the sea, and most of the lesser lords already swear fealty to us. The real prize lies out and away, in the other nations, and ever since Tirias was wiped off the map the only way out is through the mountains. So tomorrow I will be away, with an honor guard of no more than 5. I wish to move swiftly, and safely if possible. She turned to address Swalsby directly. "In my absence, you will spread my whispers to the rest of Mortmire. I want the lowliest peasants and the highest noblemen bowing to me. Begin with the other major population centers. If they resist conversion, well... Our armies are large. I will be available for council any time you sleep. Prepare a wagon for the First Dreamer and me. We won't need supplies. I am a god, after all. You are all dismissed. One by one, they vanished, until it was only the First Dreamer and her, and then he disappeared as well and she was alone in the vast chamber. With a sigh, that too dissolved, and she found herself in the vortex of dreams once more, shapeless and drifting.

There was power in her she couldn't name, a force swirling around inside, a force she could direct. It was strong enough to do almost anything, even, if she wished, manifest in the physical world... But no. She had done well thus far as a passenger in her prophet's head, and this existence was safe. Becoming solid, corporeal, was allowing the possibility of destruction. She would remain here, where she was born, where she belonged. Without really knowing what she was doing, she took the force and burned it away into the dreamscape. By the time she was finished, her presence in the collective unconscious had grown twofold, and she could see everything.

She frowned. There was a god in the mountains. She could feel its presence from the dreams of its followers. But all she could glean was that it was associated with nature. Oh well. She was sure it was kind and loving and that there was no point worrying about it. Besides, she wanted to do something other than worry just before she left. She focused her mind out into the swamp, and began to work.

Spoiler: Actions

Creating or altering a non-sentient species smaller than an elephant (Soma)- DC 9 [+4 Dreams] [-2 Physical World]

Soma is the perfect drug. A powerful narcotic is found in the roots, easy to extract, easy to take creating an instant dreamlike high with no negative symptoms afterward, and as an added bonus, its leaves are a delicious savory herb that pair well with most red meats. Apply to arrows or knives for lovelygood instant knockout juice. Grows best in marshy environments.

 

[Dogmatic99]

Theodrid - Riverlands

The mansion grounds had turned into a war zone. Bizarre, arcane chanting filled the air. Starting as a low whisper until it grew and grew into the sound of some heathen choir singing its blasphemous hymns before reaching it's horrible crescendo. but as it grew the sweet music was cut short by the blades of swords and axes, arrows whisked through the air as an armoured party breached the doors. The cultists leaped to their lords defense but they were little match for the self declared heroes that had come to prey on their private religious function.

The priest or wizard or whatever he was supposed to be held his own book high and began reciting the strange language that filled it. All the while Lord Theodrid stood in the circle of dark runes and chanted away, raging against the imposers and their schemes. He was so close.

The two rituals went on and eldrich energies crackled in the air as three great forces of pure will faced each other down. For a moment, among all the madness the air shimmered and rippled, taking on a silver sheen. Anyone looking close enough might have even sworn that they saw something looking through it as if from the other side of a window. The storm of raw magic gathered together as each voice grew louder until... it disappeared. The mansion fell silent for a moment and it seemed as if the forces of order had prevailed. They hadn't. The world around them began to shake as if the air itself was wracked by the aftershock of all this unfettered power. The air recoiled from it and the ground was ripped apart. Everyone surrounding the circle of runes were warped beyond belief and smashed to pieces. Theodrid screamed in abject despair.

Everyone there fell quiet, the few that remained anyway. No one was sure who exactly had one. Until Theodrid started laughing, a full on, maddeningly happy cackle of sheer joy. It bounced off the wall, rang the the corridors and chilled the bones of anyone who could hear it.

***​

"I... am...in!" He screamed, coated in blood and gore. "YES! yes,yes,yes-" This and some cheering and various other kinds of incomprehensible sounds of success went on for a little while. "I'm flesh and blood, I'm in the land of opportunity! I'm living the dream!"

Theodrid, at least, what appeared to be Theodrid began to pat himself down as if noticing his own body for the first time. "And look at this, I'm male! Ha, suck my newly acquired genitals Gorvenax I made it to the mortal realm first!" He shouted at seemingly no one. "Look at all this." Theodrid stepped out of the rune circle for the first time, making the runes crack in a bright red glow. He wandered around the main hall like a tourist.

"I have a house, servants, a fancy bed and things! No more just looking at it, it's mine, it's all mine!" He looked around, examining the desolation. "And they're all dead... well at least I wont have to listen to his ***** wife! You hear that Regina? Looks like I win after all and I can put up as many of those tapestries and painting that offend your mother as I want! What do you say to that?"

He spun around, looking for his host's wife. He found Regina spread out like a chunky jam over his favorite painting. "Spiteful to the end I see Regina, think you're clever do you?" Regina's intestines flopped to the floor with a wet slap. "STOP MOCKING ME!!"

As if Regina trying to spoil his big day wasn't bad enough one of the would be exorcists was chanting up the usual incantations of banishment. Normally that kind of thing would have caused our freshly formed hero searing pain and dragged it into the ether. Only this time it seemed to only sound like a harsh grating in his freshly stolen ears. Something that would have been a subject of thought but right now our demonic hero was to annoyed to put any great thought into anything.

He rallied his power and sent his will out towards the fool that dared to challenge him. "When I turn around I expect you to have done the honorable thing and reduced yourself to a gibbering husk."

Spoiler: Action

Love being alive and have a marital spat with a dead man's jam wife: Effortless
Curse a single mortal by withering and warping their flesh: DC 5 +2 Flesh

 

[Pappytech]

Raetic - Northlands

"Huh," the god thought, as he stared blankly at the slightly dirty patch of snow that had so easily stained his project. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

Granted, it wasn't like the runes were supposed to erect a physical barrier anyway. It had been designed to specifically target divine beings and constructs, so purely material objects, like people, animals, or snow shouldn't have had any problems crossing over the array. But the etchings should have at least been semi-permanent; there was no way they should been smudged just by a bit of frozen water. Something had clearly gone wrong.

"...Heh," Raetic chuckled, turning his back on the crowd of curious onlookers, "well, this oughta be fun then."

So his power had limits, did it? In hindsight, he probably should have expected that; he was a far cry from omnipotent, after all. Besides, life wouldn't be fun if he could just succeed at any given task automatically. Failure and loss would make things more interesting, would force him to play his cards right and plan ahead. If he wanted to make this story work, then he'd have to write it out well in advance.

But, he mused as he spun around to face the villagers, that would have to wait. For now, he had to deal with the witnesses. It wouldn't do if they thought his first act as their resident deity was a failure, now would it?

"Hey, hey, hey hey hey," he said, loud enough for all of them to hear him, "what's all this then, huh?" Setting his face into a fairly authentic scowl, the god jerked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at both his runes and the village beyond. "There's nothing going on here. No ancient prophecy being fulfilled, no hordes of devils and demons laying waste to the land, no fair maidens in distress. No heroes, no villains, no nothing! And I should know." To punctuate his words, Raetic gave his array another stomp, deliberately smearing a few of the runes into illegibility. "I just checked."

With a theatrical sigh, the god stepped forward and upwards, walking up an invisible staircase until he hovered a good fifteen feet above the crowd of onlookers. Casting a disapproving glance down at his audience, Raetic continued. "I mean, just think about all the legends and stuff you guys've got! And you're content to just sit around and lead your ordinary lives?"

Pausing, the god glanced upward, allowing a dramatic silence to fall over the scene. Then, when he believed it'd gone on for just long enough: "Alright, alright, alright. Maybe that was a little harsh. There's nothing wrong with a reasonable life, I suppose. Take care of your family, run your village, deal with the occasional marauding horde of bandits or monster; that type of life isn't anything to scoff at.

"But." And then, Raetic glanced back down, a glimmer shining in his eyes. There was power in his next few words, a quiet energy that was his and his alone. "Tell me this: Are there any of you, any at all, that want something more?"

It was apparent to all that the god's breath turned to mist in the cold winter air. But it was the only the most observant that could have possibly noticed the strange symbols and shapes that said mist bent and twisted itself into. Symbols that floated down towards the crowd below. They floated into the ears of the young, the boys and girls who had raised on tales of heroism and glory. They floated into the minds of the adults, the ones in the prime of their lives with so much before them. They floated into the hearts of the old, the elders who had let their golden years pass without once doing anything extraordinary.

As his words of encouragement trailed down, Raetic smiled, an earnest and eager grin. "Come on, tell me. Which of you want to be heroes?"

Spoiler: Actions

Inspiring a group of mortals for life: DC 7 or 9 (depending on the size of the crowd)
[+2] Runes

 

[MortifiedPenguin]

Mhioden - Silverdock

The six had heard the bird-god's sweet song, it tempted them with power they did not and have and yearning to grasp that for themselves. They departed to find her, however, instead of finding power for themselves, they discovered that it was meant for the so called boy-king they had heard rumblings about. They had dismissed it as nonsense, a rumour, a hoax; something that would destroy them from the inside out if they let it. Nevertheless they had come to the aid of Mhioden and with that they had become entwined in the magpie's plot to usurp a throne that did not exist from them.

Of course, the magpie would not fool herself into thinking that they would aid her for nothing. These were traders, both in gold and in lives. They could rally a great army of mercenaries against her and her would-be-king, they could quietly have the pair assassinated. Nothing was a threat if you had the coin to eliminate it. She had called them there, but the princes followed her and not the page; they would not give their power away so easily.

She would pick the secrets from their minds, yet they themselves were more important then the information theirs minds held. They represented those that had not taken up they bird god's banner and she would need to use them to sway the odds of victory.

Mhioden searched their minds for secrets she could use against them and whispered in their ears sly threats of what would befall them if they made her their enemy.




<spoiler=Actions>

Inspiring a small group of mortals (less than 50) for their entire lives DC: 7 (+2 Secrets)

 

[HellsingerAngel]

The Heartlands

Syv shifted as the riding crop jabbed him in the... something? and opened a singular eye to look upon the disturber of his break. Mounted on a less than trusty steed was a page anxiously eyeing the cloaked deity as though it would suddenly snap at him. With a grin like Syv?s it might not have been far from the truth but the god was more interested in what sort of message the page had for it. Melting its body into an amorphous form it slid its cloak across the ground to face the mounted man before reforming into its more familiar form.

"Archon's guiding hand, there are others!?? he exclaimed, aghast at the sight of what the tiny being had done.

?There are others?? Syv responded, a smarmy, toothy smile preceding the question.

The page then seemed to remember himself, quickly searching for some sort of document on his person. After a quick pat down and checking both the three scroll tubes and his satchel, the page decided it wasn?t worth the bother. Clearing his throat, he began to spout the rhetoric of his master as best he could.

?Yes, of course! I mean- The Divine Lord Archon of Swansdale, deity of the high heavens, has deigned me with the privilege of offering salvation to any man, woman or?uh, thing, that I would deem worthy of his enlightenment. He cordially invites all those I see fit to be graced by his presence to meet with him in Swansdale, not a day?s travel from whence I came, to bask in his glory and see the truths of the world he has constructed and divined. I am certain that one such as, uh, yourself would be more than intrigued with the prospect of seeing his divine, errr? divinty??

The tiny divine being looked terribly unimpressed, its smile gone from its face. Its eyes were narrowed to tiny slits and if they had pupils would undoubtedly be rolling in an unimpressed manner. The page was clearly out of his element and showering him with the praises of another divine soul was all the worse for getting on its good side. As the page began to wake from his practiced look of authority he could only gape at the disapproving stare that greeted him.

?Really?? Syv questioned, his tone dripping with distain, ?That?s the best you?ve got??

?What do you mean ?the best you?ve got?!?? replied Smythe in an insulted manner. ?I shall have you know I am revered for both my speed and measure in the delivery of messages.?

The god still didn?t look impressed. Its eyes, however, were glistening with ideas behind its deadpan stare, wondering how it could use this one to its advantage. If this mortal was such a smarmy fellow then maybe Syv could use him. This Archon could prove to be a fun distraction but having him usher in potential toys was something it couldn?t afford to allow. Then the idea flashed in its mind, bright as day in scope and dark as night in intentions.

?Alright ?Mr. Page?, if your god?s so great than I can just flip this coin and it?ll be whatever he wants it to be, right??

Smythe nodded in affirmation, sure that Archon would guide the coin?s will if the little man was destined to return to Swansdale. ?Of course, the power of Archon touches all!?

The pint-sized god?s grin returned as the mortal claimed this, finding his faith amusingly misplaced.

?PerfectsoheadsIwintailsyoulose!? the God hastily blurted out a gold piece was flipped from inside the darkness of its cloak and high into the air.

?Uh, er, fine??

To say that the moment was tense with hope would be a lie. Syv had already tricked the foolish mortal into a lose-lose situation and as the gold piece landed grinning side up it knew what fate lay before the page. A similar smile was on the god's face as it inspected the man curiously, its cloak clutched tightly to its slowly forming frame. Now it would reap the reward it had earned.

"Tails. Guess I win..."

The god extended an arm towards the man. It was strangely quite feminine but quite inviting none the less. The flesh was fair, almost perfect one could say. It beckoned the page towards the god with a single finger and Syv giggled sweetly, its demeanor oddly changing for the moment. Beneath the cloak was a shapely frame, curves like an hourglass finally defining the petite little deity. Smythe could only stare in awe and wonderment, almost falling off his saddle as he leaned in for a closer look. As the man's nose almost touched the inviting hand, Syv's cloak flew open to reveal the deceptive void underneath that had completely and uttered fooled the poor man. Suddenly hundreds of arms shot out from the god's being, all different shapes, sizes, and tones of flesh. They clawed with a ravenous ferocity at the horse, at her rider, at air; reaching out to grasp anything in their blind groping. As the pair were slowly consumed by the twisting, rubber-like arms that protruded from the deity, all it could do was hoot, holler, and cackle with delight at the proceedings until Smythe, the mare and the disturbing amount of hands had disappeared beneath the simple guise of a garment that was Syv.

It had certainly won.

Spoiler: Actions

Inspiring a single mortal for the term of his life: DC 5 (+4 Trickery)

 

[Terratina.]

Archon - Swansdale

The bodies began to twitch as the cores started up. One gave out a low moan, but all tested out their limbs. The result was a strange dance made of both involuntary twitches and voluntary movement. Satisfied with their bodies' capabilities, the victims lurched forward and lumbered on. The onlookers stood cried with joy and ran up to their loved ones. However, the only response they got were moans.

[hr]

Ahlgren - Sunderspire Mountains

The bearded leader of the hunting party smiled at the arrival of such an interesting find. Why bother with bears and badgers when you've discovered something like this? His calm demeanor kept the rest of his band from panicking, and they watched as he dismounted his steed and bowed. "We only wish to hunt down a roc, m'lord. I see no need to sully the spring with blood."

[hr]

Odanda - Harrowgate

As the attendees left the hall, something sprouted in the swamps. Curious animals dug up the sproutlings, eager to get at the roots and took a nibble, only to be knocked out instantly by the chemicals contained the roots. The appearance of Soma was marked by a decline in herbivore numbers, but it wouldn't be long until the people of Harrowgate found out what the plants could do.

[hr]

Theodrid - Riverlands

The robed man shook his head as he continued with the chanting. just as he did as the rest of the adventuring party cut down the members of the demon's cult. However, it didn't seem like the chant was working... He threw the book down, turned to the others and made a hand gesture. They nodded and stepped back as the robed prepared a fireball spell. If chants didn't work, fire would.

[hr]

Raetic - Northlands

The children realised they could grow into something great, the adults envisioned themselves spending the prime of their lives not as simple peons but as mighty heroes, the elderly lamented the fact that they had let their golden years go by without doing anything of note. However, they resolved to correct that. All stepped forward, and answered with, "Me!"

[hr]

Mhioden - Silverdock

They had been called, they had arrived, and they saw their opponent: the boy-king. The merchant princes saw just how weak he was, and each thought up a way of disposing of the threat to their power. However, a sing-song voice told the six of that the magpie-god was privy to everyone's little secrets, including theirs. It was blackmail, pure and simple, but they accepted the terms.

[hr]

Syv - The Heartlands

Both horse and rider were still trying to process what just happened. First he had been beckoned, that was probably part of some penalty for losing the coin toss, and then... ARMS. Tons and tons of arms had descended upon him. Smythe stopped thinking about that part and stared at the creature. If the creature was more powerful than Archon... Well, he had better switch to the winning side...

[hr]

Spoiler: OOC

[HEADING=1]Rolls[/HEADING]

Archon - Raise a small number of dead mortals [http://orokos.com/roll/136299]: 2d6+4 10
Odanda - Creating or altering a non-sentient species smaller than an elephant [http://orokos.com/roll/136300]: 2d6+2 9
Theodrid - Curse a single mortal by withering and warping their flesh [http://orokos.com/roll/136304]: 2d6+2 4
Raetic - Inspiring a group of mortals for life [http://orokos.com/roll/136307]: 2d6+2 9
Mhioden - Inspiring a small group of mortals (less than 50) for their entire lives [http://orokos.com/roll/136321]: 2d6+2 7
Syv - Inspiring a single mortal for the term of his life [http://orokos.com/roll/136328]: 2d6+4 12

 

[EmperorZuma]

Archon - Swansdale

"Dammit!" Archon swore under his breath as he saw the result of his new experiment, along with the frustration of the mob barging back into the workshop.

"I do not understand." Proto spoke as he recognized his creator's displeasure. "Did you not succeed?"

"Partially..." Archon spoke through a flat grimace. "...their bodies have been revived, a perhaps even their minds...but only to an extent. Those that stand here could probably best be considered as the living dead." Archon looked at the remote he used to activate the cores, pondering what the mob will do once they realize their love ones had become abominations...only to be struck be sudden inspiration. "Proto...don't forget what I'm about to do." With that, Archon headed downstairs, summoning mechanical arms to aid him in replicating the remote he had several times over. By the time he reached the bottom, he had one for every grieving family.

"What happened? Why isn't my son speaking?" The old woman came forward, her blank-faced son being dragged along by the hand.

"I'm...truly sorry, but I'm afraid I can not do ask you wish of me. You're loved ones were too far gone to revive, and my previous failure did not help." Archon gestured the one remote he had on his possession towards the woman, with the workshop's arms doing the same for the others. "However, while I was beyond me to bring them back...I have been able to give you a chance to say goodbye."

Leaving the remote with the woman, Archon moved towards her son. "Though his expression may be vacant and his eyes glazed, your son lives on...but is trapped within his own body. Each of you now has a device which controls the source of your loved one's current state..." Archon tapped the glowing object on the son's chest. "...their power core. I urge you to use this chance to give parting words to your friends and family, then turn the cores off...sending them back to an eternal rest with the knowledge that their sacrifices saved the ones they cherished."

After making sure the gathered people knew what to do, Archon left them to say goodbye....or to see through his lie. Regardless, it was out of his hands. When he returned upstairs, Proto gave the best perplexed look an Automaton could give. "Creator, I do not understand, why did you want me to remember this?"

Archon's pleasant mask dropped back into a depressing frown. "So you can remind me that my road to greatness can't be ridden on with a high horse."

Spoiler: Action

Inspiring a small group of mortals (less than 50) for their entire lives (Relatives of the people slain by bandits, then revived to a living dead state). DC: 7 [+2 Magical Artifice]

 

[Dogmatic99]

Theodrid - Riverlands

Well would you look at that! Not only did the dogma spouting home invader not do the decent thing and drop dead or even grovel for mercy. But he and his horribly rude friends continued to bump off our courageous protagonist's possessions - I mean minions - I mean servants - I mean friends. Yes, they killed his friends. why if he was the androgynous hero of a fantastical epic, with clean cut good looks that women swooned over because he was steamy but non threatening so their mothers would approve of him as well in fact maybe they'd... wait, what was happening again?

Oh that's right, the killing!

Well needless to say the demon god wasn't happy and he made sure everyone knew.

"You know, back in the old days people used to offer us a variety of virgins. They'd offer us droves of treasure. I even heard of others getting right brought right through a tear right onto a battlefield so they could get right into the fun of watching you lot go crazy. Mortals used to be a welcoming folk, now look at you!"

He motioned around to the band of hunters, all baying for his death, his infernal gaze coming to rest on the man who was swirling fire around himself with violent intent. He looked at them like some parent he thought they should all be very ashamed of themselves.

"You know..." He started, really getting annoyed now. "Back in my day... people at least had the grace and manners to KNEEL!!"

The air crackled with eldrich energy and the eyes that had once belonged to the man called Theodrid turned a baleful shade of red. The sun was shining in through the huge windows and yet the light seemed to flicker for a moment as the air grew stale.

Spoiler: Action

Inspire a small group of mortals(less than 50) for the rest of their lives. DC 7 Bonus +2 (Flesh, forcing their bodies to kneel against their will because apparently some people just have to be told).

 

[Pappytech]

Raetic - Northlands

"Me!"

Raetic allowed himself a smile that was in no way scheming or sinister. "Fantastic."

[hr]

The next few weeks whirled by in a blur of activity. Under the guidance of their new deity, the people of the village began to plan for their future, most of them dropping their ordinary lives and throwing themselves enthusiastically into their new existence. The young began to actively train themselves in the ways of combat, wit, and rhetoric, focusing on whatever area interested them the most. The old struggled to turn up any old legends or stories that lingered in the fogs of time, the older and more deadly the better. Blacksmiths stopped repairing plows and pots and began forging blades and shields, horsemen stopped herding flocks and started to practice long gallops and jumps.

Soon enough, almost the entire village was thrown into a frenzy of activity. Just the way Raetic liked it.

Sure, there were some problems. With so few people actively tending the fields, for instance, odds were that the next harvest wouldn't be looking so good. And similar problems plagued the other boring but necessary things in life. People didn't want to wash clothes or cook meals or make sure the kids were brushing their teeth, not when there was adventuring and hero-ing to be done. This type of lifestyle might have been fun, but it wasn't exactly sustainable. If this kept up for a few months, odds were the whole village would just fall apart.

Besides, the god mused, having so many potential protagonists was hardly interesting. There were a few hundred people in the village, after all; it wasn't like they could each have their own story. No, if he wanted to do things right, then he needed to find a way to cut down on the number of potential candidates.

Mmmmm... And what better aspect of a hero to test than their courage?

[hr]

This particular patch of no-man's-land, situated somewhere between the Northlands, the Sunderspire Mountains, and the Grey Valley, was a desolate stretch of rocky, lifeless earth. The soil here was poor, inhospitable to all but the most sturdy and inedible of plants, and the lack of an easy, clean source of water deterred travelers from ever passing this way. It was large, empty, and quiet. Perfect for Raetic's needs.

After ensuring that the area was free of unwelcome eyes, the god began to focus, struggling to focus the raw energy coursing through him without using his typical domain. Sure, things would likely be easier if he would simply tap into his allotted power, but that would it make it possible for a skilled mystic, or even another god, to trace this deed back to him. That was to be avoided at all costs; he didn't want to set himself up to be the antagonist just yet.

Though it took him a while, he eventually managed to tap into the power needed. Then, with a muffled grunt, he swung his hands into the hard, stony ground. There was plenty of raw material here, so long as he could shape it to his will...

Spoiler: Action

Creating or altering a one-off living creature smaller than an elephant: DC 7

The Sunderspire Ursa: A simply massive creature, the Sunderspire Ursa is well over twice the size and weight of any ordinary bear. With skin and muscle like living rock, eyes clouded over with fury and bloodlust, and armed with wickedly sharp claws and fangs, it is truly monstrous in appearance, a beast that no sane hunter would ever willingly face. Despite its titanic size, the Ursa needs little in the ways of food and sleep; its body incredibly efficient and can operate on a bare minimum supply of nutrients and rest. However, its lifespan is incredibly short, hardly a year, if even that. The Ursa is the brightest of proverbial candles, after all.

Created with only one purpose in mind, the Ursa will do exactly what it's meant to: Wander across the world, especially the Northlands and the Grey Valley, slaughtering and destroying anything it comes across.

 

[SirPlindington]

Odanda, Mortmire

"Why are we doing this again?"

Odanda sighed. "Because, you idiot, I can't just stay in Mortmire forever. You don't realize it, but there are other beings like me out there, and they grow stronger with every passing moment. We can't have them getting the upper hand, now can we?"

The First Dreamer scratched his chin. "Er... No?"

"Right you are. And the mountains are the only way out of Mortmire, so it's off to the mountains we go."

"Sure, sure... I just don't see why I have to come."

Well, ignoring the obvious, you're my prophet. You're sort of required to come along. Besides, it's probably bad form to be seen without your chief worshiper. If we do meet another god, I don't want them to think I'm rude. Besides, it's the Sunderspire Mountains!" She conjured up images of vast forests and snowy peaks. "The heart of Oriscos! The most beautiful place in the world!

The First Dreamer cast his arms about. "And this is an ugly, bumpy, marshy road. Can I at least ride in the wagon? This horse is making me sore in all the wrong places."

Odanda gave him the mental equivalent of a withering glare.

"Alright, fine. So when we do get to the mountains, what's the plan? Meander about preaching?"

"No, none of that. I wasted time in Mortmire doing just that, but now I've learned. I'm going straight for the power.

Without waiting for a reply, Odanda turned her thoughts away from the troubles of the corporeal world and retreated to the comfort of the collective unconscious. Lately, she'd found that everything in the maelstrom was bigger, brighter. The people of Oriscos were a sea of sparks, and she was among the brightest of them all. The First Dreamer lay beneath her, with the knights they were traveling with in formation around him. Swalsby had told her their names, but she'd forgotten them instantly. It didn't matter. She knew them all through their dreams, and that was more than enough.

She flew away from the lights, toward a field of brighter glimmers in the mountains. Distance was fluid, and she arrived at her destination in no time at all. Odanda made her selection and alighted as best she could. She'd been scouting out this one for days now, and she was sure it was the right choice. A powerful mage of force and fire, hidden away in one of the Three Sisters. She reached out and grabbed it, holding it in her hands. All she had to do was break the surface, and its secrets would be revealed.

Spoiler: Actions

Find a mortal capable of hiding from you - DC:7 [+4 Dreams]