Lords of Creation (Story Thread 3)

[Marvelous Miscreant]

As the sun began to rise, so to did the villagers. They darted amongst the morning fog that rolled in from the sea, looking for food. They were but shadows in the dawn, hunting for a meal.

[Zaleramancer]

The woman seemed.. distraught. She wandered towards the sea.

[Mik_Hael]

Juggler: ...Cold....so cold......why am I here...I can't..."Not all Fire spirits, are born of this earth, some are born of the sun. Those who are are the most powerfull of their bretheren, but it comes at a price. Tiny flecks of energy, traveling through an infinite darkness, with only a slim chance of reaching a planet the size of a marble within an giant black void. This darkness, the crushing loneliness, it haunts them for the rest of their existence, engraved in their very being, always following them, like a shadow, and recurring in their very dreams. The juggler, was one of the first of these spirits, the darkness is engraved within him the most, and it is this darkness, the endless void from memory that he floats in now. At the edges of vision, just beyond the reach of mortal eyes beings of darkness, horrid fanged creatures of hollow eyes and bleeding skin wait for  his light to go out, so that they may take it, and drag it into the depths.


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Archiver:  A spec of blue travelled across an endless desert, pursied by a wave of pulsating darkness, as beings of shadow within endlessly give chase. It's an interesting thing when you have a water spirit without water, or without cold. They are beings of order, without Mik Hael they could only exist in the perfect vacuum, the perfect void devoid of energy of any kind. Energy tears at their existence destabalizes it, and rips the psyche apart. Archiver is stronger than most, but it affects her as well. The desert has been draining her for several hours now, at first she attempted to fight, but her powers soon simply ceased to function, every second the temperature rises ever further Every step leads to her inevitable downfall, her will is impressive though, always trying to find a way out. Even when there isn't one.

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Acrobat: Wind spirits are odd things, they are basically a representation of freedom, and fre will, unless they are broken completely, they will find a way to escape from anything, even the earth cannot bind them for long, but because of ti's ability to bind them, they fear it, the chrushingpressure, the confinement, the feeling of beeing buried alive, this is what the spirits of freedom fear most. So what better torture than simply chaining one to the bottom of a trench, as mishapen giants slowly throw rock after rock into it, obscurring the sky and burrying their pray ever slower as they sink into a prison of ground. Pure fear, is what breaks them best, then they are easy to caputre.

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Ace & Merna: The warrior and his sword will not go down easily........their culture trains them to ignore fear, and eventually defeat it entirely from their mind, which is something you need to do in the realm of Mik hael anyway if you are a mortal. Without a fear things have to be approached more bluntly. Nightmares, horrible things of changing shape torn from the nightmares of children, are taken and thrown into a pit, with them in the center. The warrior and his sword overwhelm us with their power of holy light, but the beings of nightmare are nuetral, nonexistant, the power has no effect. They can still destroy them in the mudane way, but eventually, in due time, they shall fall, and we will take them.

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Dephos: "Darn it!!!!! Mik Hael!!!!!" The god struggled against the forces of darkness which bound her. She would cut free from them, only to be bound again, and cut free...but her power was growing, never allow a god of chaos to become subject to emotion, with them, all hell shall be brought loose.....another tactic may be necessary. The shadows jerked and reformed pulling together after Dephos's last attack, her form was covered in the fires of creation and destruction well ont heir way to breaking through the virus of the crystal. A form appeared from the shadows, and soon started to take on a dephinate shape...the flames died out as an expression of mingled emotionand confusion swept over the face of the god.

Mik Hael: "Hello Dephos." What better way to defeat a weapon than to introduce it to its master.

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Mik Hael: Okay, infinite darkness, entirely cut off from the outside world, and I've taken to actively talking to myself....I fear I may be going insane.

????: Of course you are but what else is new.

Mik Hael: !?!??! No, HECK NO!!! You aren't real!!! I left you a long time ago.

Jester: of course I'm not real, htis is a realm of memory after all, when a god has spent a long time in this place it's not surprising that they would influence a being to come into existence.

Mik Hael: Great...and I suppose that that means that the others are coming as well.

Jester:...not quiet, I'm holding them back for now, I came to tell you something though.

Mik Hael:....what.

Jester: You can never, let go of the past, no matter how hard you try, it is a part of you, and ignoring it will only lead to damnation, accept your actions while simultaneously realizing their futility, or else you become a shell of your formal self.

Mik Hael:... I know that, they won't come back, they never will.

Jester: If that's true then why are you in this situation in the first place.

Mik Hael: ......

Jester: Just stew on that for a bit, otherwise I'll be back to spend some company time with my little protegee. hahahahaha... "fades into nothingness."

Mik Hael:...Darn it.

[Marvelous Miscreant]

Some villagers watched the women. They were curious and wary of her, but did not move closer. They watched from behind the corners of homes, the branches of trees and overturned carts.

[Zaleramancer]

She sat, legs crossed, on the sandy beach- looking at the water.

[Marvelous Miscreant]

The water was murky and brown. It slapped eerily against the jagged stone cliffs, echoing through the air. It ebbed and flowed in a rhythmic method.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

She wasn't alone.

"What is it you dreamed of?"

[Celadon's Penultimate]

However, the change for the Boquabians was not a one-sided desire.

"Now, wait! Wait just a fruit-and-vegetable-picking second!" Madraeda spoke up, growing uneasy at the crowd's growing boldness, "What...what gives anybody here the right to depose us? To throw us out of office simply by the rule of the people? What righteous reference do you have to judgment, to justify this?"

Uburra-Namall glared down without a word. She'd SHOW that money-grubber a righteous reference to judgment...

"And what makes any of you think that we're being unfair anyhow? I demand a fair trial!" Volin protested.

"Indeed! A fair trial! Some righteous deciding factor to put all this mess to rest!" Ilika volunteered.

"Yeah...so we can get back to ruling already!" Aisonon agreed. Kotu gave him a quick slap to the back of the head, and menaced him in annoyance, before turning his attention back to the crowd.

Surely there had to be a way to resolve this issue. Some way to satisfy all parties involved, without resorting to deposition, or outright anarchy. No, they didn't need that. Heaven forbid these sheep be left without their good and faithful shepherds, these lost and pitiful souls be left without their benefactors. Who else would intercede for them, and deliver their entreaties to the gods? Certainly not a worldly-minded man like Draias. Certainly not a flighty dreamer like Linessa. Certainly not a goofy entertainer like Fandas.

No, they needed serious men and women, with serious goals and serious dedication to the job. Not to mention, experience. Certainly the Elders wouldn't be willing to teach them what the office entailed, just to turn around and have them usurp the Elders' positions. The Elders would not relinquish their place easily.

If Draias and his comrades wanted to have the position of Elder, they would not get it without a fight.

[Zaleramancer]

"Dying. Failure. World asserting itself."

[Tsubasa & Wen Tien]

Acacia sits straight up, gasping for air. What had her dream been about? Running. That was it. But what had she been running from? Who cares! She'd think about it later if she had the time. Acacia got up and went outside stretching her muscles after sleeping.

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At sunrise, someone starts shaking Aox, hard, "Oi! Wake up ya dunce! It's sunrise and yer in the Swordsmanship class's training area!"

Another voice calls out, "Don't call him a dunce! Yer the dunce! Start doing 1000 basic strikes! If that guy doesn't get up fast, then after the first ten, you can do the rest hitting him on the head!"
(Total: 33 motes)

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

A shape shimmered in the air beside her, before becoming solid. A cloak, and a mask.

"Sound terrible. I've tried asking people in the village, but they don't like talking to me. Sometimes, looking so unworldly has it's disadvantages."

Its voice was male and lyrical, almost singsong. Something in the way it held itself suggested Young Man.
 
"Allow me to introduce myself. I don't have a name, but I'm called a watcher. I was one of the many assigned to observe this land. This place is under my jurisdiction, as it were."

It's head bowed.

[Zaleramancer]

"Greetings, Nameless Watcher. I am Prisca." She turned to glance at him. "You watch here? Know much, yes?"

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Not as much as I would like. Somehow, whatever is causing this slipped my notice while I was away. I've tried asking the villages about things, but most of them don't seem to want to talk with something like me right now."

It nods down to it's complete lack of a body.

"They seem to think I'm some sort of evil spirit."

[Zaleramancer]

"You servant of gods, no evil spirit. Like the Little Sisters." Prisca said with a chuckle. "Now, you want solve a mystery?"

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"I was hoping you would ask. People will actually talk to you, and I can check things out unseen. I can't thing of a better combination."

[Celadon's Penultimate]

A fight...

The word reverberated through the air subliminally, twisting invisibly around the The Elders, Draias' group, and members of the crowd, as Kotu spoke it. It would have reached Nasta's ear from the other side of the world, but she had had the great fortune of sitting invisibly with Khadai and her sisters just inside the threshold of the temple.

A fight.

A riot, Nasta thought, her excitement building. Combat. A bloody and violent battle, a storm of hatred and confusion. Ripping flesh from muscle, muscle from bone, souls from bodies. A bloodbath, a slaughter, a massacre.

A brilliant idea. Nasta looked back at her mistress, Khadai.

"You heard him, My Lady. He wants a fight." Nasta's body bristled with bloodthirsty anticipation, "PLEASE, Mistress, let me grant his wish! Don't let Jissei have all the fun!"

Khadai looked around at the temple, thinking as the arguing continued outside. Now that she thought of it, she was a goddess of sin, and her handmaidens goddesses of sin, but...what had they really done to challenge the people of this land? Theft, sure, robberies, and violence from altercations; minor schemes, petty betrayals, lies, cheating.

No serious fights. A couple drownings, suicides, even curses and illness from Jissei, but...never murder. No, the Dragonborn were the only sentient beings who had ever killed other sentient beings on this island. By her doing, to some extent, but not under her patronage. And, what, now she was to be outdone by a mortal at a job that she was designed personally for?

Most certainly not.

"Nasta?" She called to her niece.

The Handmaiden of Wrath snapped her attention back from the arguing to Khadai, "Yes?"

Khadai crossed her arms, looking out on the crowd; she and Nasta met wicked, mischievous glances, "...Have fun."

[Zaleramancer]

"Talk.. Hmm.. Perhaps more friendly and proper looking I should become. You think?"

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Maybe." it said, looking her up and down. "I remember a clothing store being down the main road. No idea if it's open or not."

[Zaleramancer]

"No, no. Watch."

Her form blurred. Patterns danced across her skin. She.. changed.

Prisca became shorter, more delicate. Her skin darkened, becoming cinnamon brown. Hair sprouted from her head, growing to her shoulders. Her clothing became much like that of the villagers, in better condition.

She opened newly brown eyes, and glanced at the hair with irritation. Grabbing a bunch of it, Prisca waved it and asked to no one in particular.

"I never understand how stand this stuff. Nasty, Smelly, Gets in way. Eyk."

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"Very nice. Wish I could do that. Though if you don't like the hair you could make it shorter."

So, some sort of spirit. That was interesting.