Lords of Creation (Story Thread 3)

[Zaleramancer]

The world shakes. Not from the tremors of the earth, but from a tremendous roar. Even the monstrous minions pause, for they too are made of the essence of the divine.

It was a sound less of pain and fury than of realization.

It say one thing with crystal, wordless clarity.

 HUNGER

As the power of the artifact bit into the dragon's neck, the roar diminished. Silver ichor leaked from the gash it left. The artifact itself was no where in sight, doubtlessly destroyed from the dragon's touch.

Neck turning, the gaze of the dragon met the watchman's.

It looked really, really pissed and even more hungry.

Caustic power flowed away from it, burning at the God's aura.

It began to move ponderously towards him.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

He could feel the effects from here. This thing was Eating him just from him being near it.

"That's right. Come to me. Come on, follow the light. Follow the bouncing Watchman."

He files off, breaks the surface and keeps going, staying close, just close enough to keep the monster interested. That aura wasn't going to make this easy. What he had planned couldn't be done from a distance, the thing would eat his energy before it reached it.

He'd have to get up close and personal. But later. For now he lead the beast on a lumbering chase toward the island of Uburra- Namall. Toward it's brother.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

A mile's radius of nightmare monsters the goddess cleared now, and the divine doom cloud that was the Godstorm, was still growing. Uburra-Namall's ample chest heaved, and something in her made her laugh. She set her warhammer down. This was just like the old days. Different siblings, and different worshipers, but otherwise, the same, all over again.

A spark of hope peeked into her soul. Perhaps she would not lose so many lives as she feared. She turned slowly, to scout out more monsters. As though to grant some subliminal wish--or make real some subliminal fear-- another was approaching.

It was a monster unlike the others. It took a solitary step through the waters of the ocean, and its pressure was tenfold more than the gravity she felt from it at the first. Its body was blackened through the mists of the sea, but the goddess knew that its darkness was so much more profound than that.

And she knew its purpose in an instant. Like so many adoring and lustful worshipers she had known before...like so many who thirsted in her past world, and like so many who would hunger in the next...it wanted her. Her very soul. Her very essence. And here she had been...unwittingly inviting it with temptations of a divinely powered meal.

She uttered a curse in a language unknown to her current life, in a language the very air forbade.

And yet...she knew what she must do, and that she must do it quickly.

The goddess sighed. Her hand reached up, clutching Heartbreaker again. She called.

YOU! MONSTER! GREAT, MINDLESSLY-HUNGRY BEAST! IT'S NOT THIS ISLAND YOU WANT!

She closed her eyes and shook her head for what she knew must surely be suicide.

IT'S NOT THIS ISLAND YOU WANT! IT'S ME YOU WANT! ME, I TELL YOU! ME!

She shot up into the air, high, higher still, to the height, until she hovered just above the barrier that encapsulated her island. Even afar off, she met eyes with the great undivine beast. She sensed that it understood.

Yes, indeed. So like old times.

She huffed at the thought. And then she dug down deep inside herself. She reached deep down within the depths of the Plane of Creativity, to the furthest reaches of the Plane of Love and Life. Like fuel into a furnace, those reaches now flared her energy to a fever pitch. Surely, if this beast could see divinity, she was the equivalent of a lighthouse.

Hopefully, though, this attraction to her power would not go like before.

Though, only time would tell. And so, with a final look down to the chaos that threatened to nearly consume her island, her blindingly-luminous form took off, full-speed, into the distance.

For as long as she could, she would have to keep the great brute busy.

[Zaleramancer]

Tempted away from the boring island by the vast dancing feast that was her, the dragon follows.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

He lead the best in a curving chase around the land of Gilgamesh, ducking back into the range of it's maw every now and then to arrest it's attention. He saw the lands of Mina, encased in a great black wall of what looked like blood. He saw the Demon Wall and the city of Bluebell, testament to his last failure. The Coastal states that used to be in Hazet's dominion were flooded and wrecked, the sounds of battle even now coming in clear to his senses, and he though that perhaps if they were still untied under a strong king they might fare a little better. He rounded the curb and saw the tower crystal palace of Mik Hail, where he could have perhaps prevented all of this if he had acted promptly, and not sent children to do his job.

Then he heard the scream of the second monster, and turned his sight forward. It was advancing, in pursuit of a pink dot of light. Next to it, he though, he must look unbearably tacky. Like a uncut jewel next to the literal light of the Omni. Still, his target was hard to miss.

He focused his power into his right hand, every last bit, so that even if most of it was sucked away he might at least have enough to carry out his plan. He redoubled his efforts, kicking in one last burst of speed. He shot passed Uburra-Namall, screaming an oath in his voices, pouring everything out even as he felt it being sucked away into the greedy maw of the dragon.

"I name thee The Sucker, God of Shadow Copy Gods!"

He dodged the beats jaws as the snapped shut and laid his shining hand right on the tip of it's nose, feeling his strength bleed away even as he pushed this to work.

(I am willing to spend every one of my 32 to make this work.)

[Celadon's Penultimate]

The goddess tore through the sky at breakneck speed. The fog of the dark, obscuring storm clouds made no difference. Another roar rippled through the air, signifying that it was not far behind, and that was all that mattered.

Uburra-Namall dared not stop or even slow down. She simply turned a bit, aimed Heartbreaker at the monster's mouth, and offered it a blast of her divine energy.

It prepared to roar again, when the blast hit its slimy, disgusting black tongue. Its call was stifled, and some sickening smack erupted from it. She could tell...it so savored what taste she offered it.

YES, THAT'S RIGHT! YOU LIKE THAT, DON'T YOU?! WELL, DON'T GIVE UP NOW! THERE'S PLENTY MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM! ALL YOU HAVE TO DO...IS KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE PRIZE!!!

She banked left, avoiding turbulence. And as yet a second beast came into view, looming over the lands of her fellow gods--and being led on by The Watchman, no doubt--she zoomed off again.

[Philote]

The Northern Front

Lo-Kag charged forward the Genasi armies at his back and a hunger for death in his bodies. This would be his finest hour, the point where he showed the world why he was the strongest of Gilgamesh's heroes. He charged forward.....Out of his body, leaving behind a pillar of stone and emerging as a being of pure thundering energy. His Apocalypse Spell Armor makes the energy crackle around him, waiting to be released in a single destructive blast. He was the Storm Sovereign, Anima's Chosen.

The King Emere strides forward, leading his army like he was born to do. He was the master of the elements above all other Genasi, the Tempest of elements was within his soul. His armor, the Totem Armor, releases the storm and the elemental energies seep out into their own beings. Large golems of the elements for him to command with his kingly presence. He was the King, Nova's Chosen.

Balasar cut his own path through the foes. He was the newest of the Council, but the others did not have the time to question his presence with such a great war looming over them. The Spirits of Madness, the spirits of his original gang circled around him, lending their might to his strength. He knew exactly what he wanted to gain from this campaign. These vile creatures would be cut away, but only so that he could cut a section of the land to be under his rule. He would lead his own people as he now led the Spirits of Madness with is Dictator's Armor. Balasar pushes the waves of creatures back, causing even the vilest of the creatures to fear him and run. He was the Terrorfiend, Yojimbo's Chosen.
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The Western Front

Gilgamesh the Second charged out with his fellow Dragonborn Rhogar. Six great swords rested in his hands, large enough to be wielded two-handed by any ordinary mortal. Gil roars with a force reminiscent of the Spirit from which he got his name. From his roar, fire spills out over his body, setting alight his flesh under his Dragon Bone Armor but not burning him. He was the Burning Dragon, Gilgamesh's Chosen.

Rhogar flies ahead of Gil, expanding his aura into a giant Draconic Incarnation around him. Then he pulls it back in, drawing the freezing aura around him thickly so that it blocks out the sight of his flesh. Rhogar flies, phasing through the world as a spirit with his Ethereal Armor and leaving a wake of frost. The Dragonborn tribes gather together at his command, reunited now that he had cleared the way. Rhogar was the ice to Gil's flame. He was the Spellscale, Bahamut's Chosen.

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The Eastern Front

Thorn dashed through the woods of his homeland, the mythos of the world joining him on his run at the heed of his call. He considered every Shifter a member of his family and it was time he came to their aid. He runs up the back of one of the land's native treants and his World Tree Armor connects his life to that of the mythos'. The two rampage together, with Thorn empowering and directing the colossal Treant's attacks. He was the Archetype of Nature, Deva's Chosen.

Atlas traveled through the woods of the Shifters. His gel body ripples into spikes as he gives away control to the chaotic adaptions of his origin. He moves as a liquid torrent of blades. His Magebane Armor eats away at his foes powers while his blades eat away at their flesh. He was the Chaos Eater, Void of World's Chosen.

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The Southern Front

Tirion leads his section of the army through his homeland, his body literally shining as a beacon of their assault. He was one with his Artifacts, one with the Spectral Light, and even one with the future. His Looking-Glass Armor reveals to him his enemies paths and he releases his Spectral Light to slay them before their plans can be enacted. He was the Avatar of Light, Lore's Chosen.

Naram travels south, into the heartland of the Colleges of Magic, lending to them his own magical proficiency. Crystals of mana grow from his body and from his Crystal Storm Armor, a skill not fully utilized when he was the body of Gilgamesh. The Crystals move around him, manipulating not only the world around him but the underlying energies as well. He was the Planeshaper, Void of Heaven's Chosen.

[Zaleramancer]

Power coursed into the dragon. More power than anything had ever willingly given it.

Mind dazzled and span as it's own corrosive power bit at the God. It stumbled.

A red streak jerked down from the sky. A person in gold and red armor on a blood red horse.

Both Dragons suddenly felt violent hatred towards the other. They moved forward to battle as the rider grabbed the falling Watchman.

It dashed towards the pink-glowing Uburra-Namall, carrying him.

What a damn fool thing to do.

Behind the rider, the dragons clawed and grappled in the turbulent sea.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

"damn fool....damn fool....damn fool...."

It repeated the strange mans words, an seeking to fill the void in it's being by repetition. It didn't know why, but those word were attractive to it.

[Zaleramancer]

 I don't suppose you mind assisting me in making sure he doesn't dissolve into a puddle of ichor? The rider shifted  Otherwise, Just Causes might cease to exist. Trust me, it's hell in a handbasket once the abstract concepts start going.  

Behind the red rider, the dragons grappled. The Sucker was steadily loosing, appearing to be actually shrinking.

[Zaleramancer]

Far away, a desperate battle was unfolding. Monster and zombies lurked through the streets of Specteropolis. Three valiant beings, two divine and one mortal, stood resolute against them.

Several thousand leagues away, the larger of the brawling dragons annihilated a small Seafolk town. Their terrified dying screams echoed far in the waters.

In response, the monsters and zombies around the small house promptly imploded into small, dense orbs. The smell of sea salt and the darkness of the depths drifted outwards.

Sea gods you see, are not know for their calm tempers or forgiving natures.

Piss them off and you'll regret it.

Waverider, awakened and aware, stood in the door of the house- eyes glowing furiously.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Far too close, the goddess thought as she noticed the monsters about too clash. TOO CLOSE!
She zoomed away from them, her enticing aura fading, to meet up with her fellow gods. Right on time, she met up with them, and turned around to anticipate the impact.

She watched for an instant, and then did a double-take. The gold and red armor. The blood red horse. The scent of magic and age...

"Zaya?"

And again, something caught her attention. The sickening pop of lives extinguished. Their voices vanished on the winds. And in place of their lives, the smell of sea salt and the water's depths.

"Waverider?"

[Philote]

Gilgamesh's heart leaped and he let out a roar to return the call of these massive creatures. They may have been fighting each other at the moment, but he was not going to lose this opportunity to challenge such a worthy foe. Divine energy runs off Gilgamesh's body as his pulse quickens in excitement, causing him to become more Spirit than flesh. A speck of white glows within Gilgamesh's chest and flares to life, growing to overshadow the golden energy of his own Divine energy.

Around his continent, the rest of his Pantheon becomes still and the fighting ceases for a moment as Gilgamesh draws all the Conflict, all the Heroism, all the Power into himself. Slowly, his Pantheon moves towards him, burning to white as they join with the power of the Soul Shard and fuse with Gilgamesh. Even Lore descends from the sky, from the Plane of Heroes to join Gilgamesh's Divine Form.

Gilgamesh grows, feasting on more power than he has ever felt during his existence as as Spirit. He grows large, dwarfing mountains and taking on Lore's titanic form. Horns, Wings, and Tail grow from his flesh and become covered with Golden armor imbued with the Void of the Sentinels. Gilgamesh had all their power, every member of his Pantheon equally within him. With a flex, he returned the absorbed Heroism to the world. (Bless(x5), Global Heroism Buff)

Gilgamesh lands on the outer border walls of his kingdom, and at his touch, Divine energy rushes across the land. Turning random pockets of matter into crystallized energy. (Create/Alter Terrain: Magicite)

The power rushes through Gilgamesh's body, mind, and soul, turning him into something new. He calls out his name" PAAAANTHEEEEOOOOO!!!"

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Name: Pantheo
Domains: Heroism, Conflict, The Body, Power, Power(Void), Power(Artifacts), Kingdoms/Castles
Mote Total: 120
Inherit powers:
Tier 1 (Raise Hero(x3), Posses Avatar(x2), Curse(x6), Bless(x5), Create Life, Create/Alter Terrain, Alter Weather)
Tier 2 (Miracle(x4), Smite(x4), Create Mythical Being, Create Servitors)
Description: The fusion of Gilgamesh and his creations through the use of the Soul Gem.
1. Perfect Dragonborn body formed by Deva
2. Size and Artifact control granted by Lore
3. Energy and Aura created by Anima
4. Wings, Tail and Draconic energy granted by Bahamut
5. Swords chained to and formed from bracers crafted from Yojimbo
6. Golden armor that is fused with the Void Sentinels
7. Gems of the domains formed from the Sprites
8. Other Artifacts moved into the planes and connected through the Divine Artifact, Rune of Planes.

[Zaleramancer]

 Correct. I've been forced into brute force. The irony is not lost on me.  She paused.  I suppose I won't have to wake Waverider up after all. I'm certain she'll be here in a jiffy, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake.  

Prodding the Watchman she said  But I am very serious about stabilizing him. Help would be appreciated.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Uburra-Namall did not take her eyes off of the beasts clashing.

"I am not the warring type." she whispered to the dark goddess, "As I'm sure you well know. But something within me hates these things more than I have ever hated anything in all the course of my many lives."

She looked briefly to Heartbreaker. It glowed ominous red in response.

"I want very badly for them to die."

[Philote]

A black blade stretches out from Pantheo's right bracer and Pantheo marvels at the sword for a moment. Then he moves, and the air churns as it tries to fill in the vacuums left by Pantheo's movements.

The sword sinks into the weaker of the two beasts, killing it off so that Pantheo can move on to bigger prey. His blade sinks through the beast, down through the waters, and into the crust below, slicing so cleanly that the waters are not disturbed by its movements.

A second blade stretches out of Pantheo's left bracer and he faces off against the stronger of the two dragons.

[Zaleramancer]

Inside the helmet, Zaya smiled. She knew how to steer.

 Of course. They are creatures without beauty. Not even the feral and frightening loveliness of a bird of prey or a stalking cat. Merely hideous and base abominations. If given the chance, they would doubtlessly reduce the world to nothing more than a dismal grey lifeless place. Devoid of art and beauty.. and love.

All about her, the raucous power of war beat like a drum. It called for anger and violence and blood.

People would supply their own reasons, the beast cared not so long as if fed.

[Zaleramancer]

 Would you look at that. It's like one of those giant combining machine-men I saw once. The God of Automatons never was very practical.  

The sheer power of that was absolutely staggering. It frightened Zaya more than a little.

She'd have to do something about Gilgamesh, eventually. Someone desperately needed to have him under their thumb.

Zaya pulled a bottle from a saddle-bag on the flying horse. Sighing, she poured the contents over the watchman.

It would take several decades to restock on that.

A soft glow formed as power slowly leaked from Zaya to the Watchman.

(Mote by mote)

[Zaleramancer]

All across the world, the false gods began to wither.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Uburra-Namall felt her blood boil to hear Zaya's words. She looked over to the Watchman, about to voice her utter outrage at the wicked, depraved, artless creatures. Though...he seemed to be having problems of his own.

"Wha--?" The Fair Goddess could barely find words, "What's going on? Are you--? Are you alright?"