Godhood Quest S2

Act cost chart

Cosmic bodies
>Create Earth like planet: 24 points.
>Create moon sized planet: 3 points.
>Create mars sized planet: 6 points.
>Create Earth sized planet: 12 points.
>Create useful minerals for a planet: 1/3rd the cost of the planet.
>Create water: 2/3rds the cost of a planet. This will create earth levels of water.
>Create an atmosphere for a planet: 1 point. Earth sized planets come with an atmosphere by default.
>Create rings for a planet: 1point. Or, specify a planet has rings when you create it at no extra cost.

Life
>Basic life: 1 point. Mindless creatures, plants, and insects. The base of many ecosystems.
>Small animals: 1-2 points. Usually innocuous and unintimidating, creatures of this size are often overlooked by other mortals. But hold great potential in creative hands.
>Medium animals: 2-3 points. Lacking both the overwhelming numbers of miniscule creatures, and the monstrous size of titans, it is commonly agreed upon that creatures of this size are inherently uninteresting.
>Large animals: 3-4 points. Physically imposing and powerful. Large creatures are not to be provoked lightly.
>Titans: 4+ points. Kings and Queens of nature. Titans are inherently rare, as they require massive amounts of food to sustain themselves. A titan’s presence can strike awe in lesser beings. And their corpse acts as a feast for scavengers far and wide that can last for weeks.

Granting gifts
>Make a creature intelligent: 2 points. This will affect a large population of any animal. Giving intelligence to some animals will result in different outcomes than others. More numerous, social animals are common targets for ascension. But borderline hive minds such as insect colonies, or the sparsely populated titans, are also entirely valid options.
>To grant a natural or supernatural gift to a single creature that they can't pass on would cost the same as creating an artifact that would give them the same gift
>To grant a natural or supernatural gift to any number of creatures that they can pass on to their children would cost the amount an artifact that would do the same times how much the creature cost to create.
>To grant a divine sphere to a mortal or a god it costs 6 points per level, this means you could give Farming I to a mortal for 6 points, or Death II, Revival I for 18 points. A being cannot have more than 12 levels distributed through their spheres.
>To change your own sphere or another god’s sphere to something else costs 3 points per level you change.

Appearing to mortals
>Appear to mortals: 1+ points. Simply descending into a village from the sky costs less than riding across the city in a flaming chariot followed by visions of angels that seem to stretch the imaginations of whoever lays eyes on them, leaving mortals struggling to find the words to describe their appearance later. But interacting with mortals requires an investment of acts.
>Incarnate: 1 point to do so temporarily. 3 points to do so until death. This allows you take on a mortal form in whatever way you wish. While mortal your omniscience is severely limited (though you can briefly regain it at the cost of one act, or have another god tell you what is happening in the universe.) While mortal, you will be perfectly fit and healthy, never age, and never give in to hunger or thirst. You can still be killed by mortal wounds. Though you will be far more resilient than any mortal could hope to be. You will be virtually unmatched in any profession you choose. Be it in the arts, in craftsmanship, or in battle. Your very presence will seem to hold divine weight, and your voice will carry with it a sound of ethereal beauty, or terror, or madness. Any of these properties can be diminished or done away with for the sake of appearing more worldly.

Creating artifacts
>Creating Artifacts: 2 or more points depending on significance. Something simple like a magical weapon would cost 2, something more powerful like an ever present weather pattern could cost 4, and something as complex as a medallion that grants a divine sphere to the wearer would cost 8.
>Artifact manufacturers: An artifact manufacturer can be any cost from 4 points up, artifacts created by it have their base cost multiplied by their base cost divided by the base cost of the artifact manufacturer. So it can create artifacts half its cost for half cost and create artifacts one fourth its cost for one fourth cost and so on.

Alternate planes of existence
>Creating an alternate plane of existence: 5 points. This will be enough to create any plane that does something simple. For instance, an afterlife to dump souls into. And it can be a pleasant afterlife, or a hellish one. They can be completely separate from the other planes of existence, such as the mortal or ethereal plane. Or be so close that the two planes can interact with each other in limited capacities. Such as a plane filled with the souls of the departed being close enough to the mortal plane as to create ghostly images of the dead in the land of the living, or vice versa.
>Alter the rules of a plane of existence: 3+ points. Some planes of existence may require their rules tweaked as time goes on. Or will simply require a larger act investment to accomplish what you want them to do. 3 acts will allow you to rewrite the laws of a plane of existence.
>Create things in an alternate plane of existence: 1 point (usually.) Because these planes of existence are presumed to be mostly not interacting with the mortal realm, 1 point will get you almost whatever you want to create. However, the closer they are to the mortal plane, the more things will cost.

If you aren’t sure of the cost of something Ask me about it on the Godhood Quest discord: https://discord.gg/bySRCAh

Oh this is back. Are you accepting new players? Can you give a list of gods that are already in the realm?

>>1383486
THis is a new quest that takes place in the same universe as the old one and shares a planet, all the old gods are dead.

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>>1383478
"Sigh... I'm so bored" says a colorful boy who's currently sprawled across a pillow in the heavenly pantheon of Zion. "These old bastards won't let anyone have fun. I'm not allowed to intervene with mortals plane or make anything of my own. God dam fun police always "Leave the mortals to there own will"they say, "Don't start a war in our Utopia", "who turned my ocean to booze"."
The new God then stands up on his pillow, standing at an impressive height of three and a half feet tall, puffs his chest out and exlaims," Bah, I may be the youngest but I'm still a God to and I can go do what I want. I'm going to find a plane and do what I want. I'll make it fun, and there will be black jack and hookers." The god then snaps his fingers and poofs out of existence in the search of a less occupied one, but not before toppling tilting every painting in his universe.

>Name: Havox
>Background: A young God born to a universe with an already full pantheon. The Gods had already established the universe over a hundred thousand years prior and were content to just sit back and watch their creation. Havox birth was a complete shock to everyone and no one wanted him to mess up the world they worked so hard to make. So the pantheon decided to just keep him in the pantheon, not letting him do much else but watch the universe they made. Havox that it was a neat place for a while, but he quickly got bored an irritated because no one let him do jack shit. So he left that dimension in search of some fun.
>Personality: Very energetic, a immature and gets bored easily. Loves games, competitions, betting, and screwing with people. Always willing to gamble if it I interest him. A neutral character that only wishes to quench his boredom.
>Appearance: a young child no older the 10 who wears brightly colored clothing and carries a pouch were he stores all of his dice and cards.
>Type: God
>Spheres and levels: Competition II, Fortune I, Gambling I

He is and there are no gods.

Everyone applies now and he picks who makes it in later.

>>1383478
>Name:
Resonnars
>Background:
When the first sound was made it reverberated. It kept on building up until one day, it noticed it was a god now.
>Personality:
He's rather curious about things, taking things as they come. His mood is audible in his tone
>Appearance:
A man who's features are unable to be seen do to motion blurs
>Type:
God
>Spheres and levels:
Sound IV

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>Name:Legion
>Type-God
>Appearance-Pic related
>Spheres-Conflict, Creation.

A Multitude of souls confined to a single form, doomed to forever war inside its mind. Legion is true remains of a forgotten afterlife, formed from the masses of souls left abandoned in their patrons death. The souls fed upon each other until only one remained

The "good" portion of him desires to create new life and to see it flourish. The "chaotic" portion wishes to test life, see it remade through hardship as he was

Legion has ripped his way into a new Universe in the hopes of a fresh start away from the misery of his dead world.

Currently, all that exists in the new universe is a sun that just popped into existence close enough to Terra which was drifting aimlessly through space to catch it in it's orbit.
At least that's what it will be as soon as the first round starts.

>>1383494
What are the levels of conflict and creation, if you don't specify I'll just make them both II.

>>1383494
Spheres-Conflict ll, Creation ll

>>1383498
Fixed.

>>1383478
Name: Tizlamid
Background: At that faithful day of the festival 400 years ago, when Tizo's plot came to fruition and he stole all those goblins from Crook. Tizlamid was overcome with joy, for his god has guaranteed his people's future. But as time pasted and the eternal war across the festival grounds worsened. Tizlamid grew more and more tired of the pettiness of these child gods. So when the sun began fading and the dying of the light began, he gathered the last loyal worshippers to enternally guard the formal festival grounds against the rampaging beasts crook created.
Personality: A man who lost everything and cares only for his flock. He's usually tired and slow to anger. Caring only for his flock.
Appearance: A middle age man, nothing special about his appearance
Type: Demigod
Spheres: Devotion 1 and Time 3

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>>1383478
>Name:Dharma
Background: ascended mortal
Personality: Arrogant perfectionist devoted to fighting
Appearance: Almost Always incarnates as a Fit blond man of strapping proportions and devastating good looks. Occasionally incarnates as a wizened old man with a Snow White beard, grimly determined eyes, and a thin wirey build.
Type: Demigod
Spheres: (Martial Arts) 2, (ki) 1, (Fabulousness) 1


For hundreds of years this world has yearned for the touch of perfection. Now at last that need is fulfilled. A cracking sound like thunder fills the frigid northern air as ice undisturbed for ages shatters upwards in a blast of glittering crystals. Emerging whole and unblemished from the massive crater a strapping blond youth floats calmly upwards. Drawing a breath into new lungs the divine creature strikes a pose too magnificent to be believed as his aura flares and sends diamond bright flashes of light racing amongst the ice crystals still floating in the air. "HA", the god exclaims, "Behold it is I Dharma, god of perfection, and perfect god!" In response the cold wind blows snow past his naked, and perfect form.
"Hmmm, this will not do! There is no point to my perfection if it cannot be witnessed! This frigid wasteland is fortunate to have borne me, but I will abide it no longer!" So saying the pristine demigod began traveling towards the faint light of the new dawn.

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>>1383478
>>Name: (Unknown)

>>Background:...Fractured....Broken...What was once a god? Now fallen with inklings of his memory belonging to him. All he has was the joys of a world that interested him. These memories he isn't even sure are real and if that world was real where is it and more importantly. What would he do now?

>>Personality: Curious to a fault, carefree to the utmost degree and a thrillseeker. He loves to explore, build, create, and sometimes he dabbles in fighting. He wishes to see and experience existence and enjoy it.

>>Appearance: Pic related
>>Type: Demigod
>>Spheres and levels: Adventure 1, Discovery 1, Crafting 2.

>>1383478

>Name: Alynora
>Background: Born from the remains of a dead god in the wilds.
>Personality: Protective, loyal, and a little vain follows a personnal honor code
>Appearance: A anthropomorphic godness with light blue skin, white hair and goat legs with a single horn on her forehead.
>Type: Demigod
>Spheres and levels: Hunting II, Archery I, Crafting I

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>>1383478
Name: The Beast
Type: God
Sphere: Primal, rage, beast, nature

The Beast, a force of nature representing the most primal instinct and the savage beast within all of us. Standing upright with an oversized left arm sporting a menacingly large razor sharp talon. His hunched back standing pose shows how old he is, representing the primal instinct that is embedded in every living being since the dawn of time. His breath incites violence, his footsteps shook every mortal's soul to the core, his howls strikes bloodlust into the heart of even the most pious of mortal. He is nature incarnate. He is The Beast.

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>>1383478
>From the fallen and forgotten, new blood arises...

Through the depths of cosmos, passing stars and constellations, a dark figure floats, broken and lifeless.
Its face remains locked in a mad grin, a cane clutched tightly between two bony hands, an enormous hat bobbing by.
The Black Spirit has fallen.
A wicked fate has befallen that whom wicked actions has performed, its executioner being the dying sun.
However, when dealing with such an entity, reality itself shifts and contorts.
The corpse of the mad God became a growing ground for a new divine being. A womb for the developing god. The Cosmic Child fed upon the remains of its own father.
A grotesque sight, to be expected by the tainted nature of the progenitor entity.
Thousands of years, ages of growth, passed. The Cosmic Child mutated inside of the warm, tainted womb lost in space.
It was a sudden shriek of terror that pierced the peace within.
The Cosmic Child had achieved conscience as it felt... Power. Godly energy surging from a new sun.
Its birth was similar to a snake shedding skin. It pushed away the wet membrane that clung to its body and rised, regarding the whole universe with curious eyes.
Turning, the Cosmic Child witnessed the entity that had granted it life.
"Father... Oh Father..."
It wept.
But soon, the pain was forgotten. Almost.
And it began discovering the universe. The dead gods. The chaotic planes. Terra. These were gifts. An inheritance from the progenitor. It had to be treasured.

>Name: The Cosmic Child

>Background: A newborn entity, made from the dead remains of the ancient god of Madness, Crooked Tooth. It knows nothing but the Womb it has grown in and scraps of the Father's mind.

>Personality: None to speak of. The Cosmic Child was only recently born, and still has to make a personality for itself. Its developement will be decided by how other gods act, as the spirit will look at them for guidance and act accordingly to what it learns from the other entities.

>Appearance: A tall, lanky being, vaguely humanoid. Its skin is a milky white, wrinkled and shining, as if wet with water. Its features are not very defined, except for a singular characteristic: it bears a fungus-like growth on the forehead. Upon closer inspection, one may see that the growth is actually a conglomeration of trembling eyes, all fused together. Furthermore, the Cosmic Child's upper body is covered by a white, silky membrane, that the being is seen holding close to its body. Sometimes, a keen eye may notice, under that white membrane, a fleshy rope tied around the creature's midsection. If carefully inspected, one may observe that it is part of a ripped umbilical cord
>Type: Spirit
>Spheres and levels: Mutation II - Curiosity II

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>>1383515
Forgot the picture.

Name: Awoda the blade of hope.
Background:
Hilda was an old god one of the old gods and the newest one of them all shortly after her creation if a plane everything was shattered gods died everything went haywire.*

*She felt her power leaving her or rather she was feeling the effects of it already having left her body. She held onto the two awoos with all her strength. She landed and it hurt. It was painful excruciating almost. Hilda felt powerless...hopeless the awoos tending to her. Selflessly taking care of her agasint any danger.

The cold,hunger even trying to fight back dangerous creatures. This selflessness this love. Gave hilda strength as the awoo's faded away due to hunger and other concerns. She almost gave up but she dident. These awoo's gave her hope and with hope came strength and.......divine power from her dagger.

She had been born with it. But why? And why did the world fall apart shortly after she arrived? She dident know...but the knife...had power it reacted to her emotions. So she seized it with everything she had. It was painful. It was not her power but she couldn't give up even as she felt her body being rended apart by it she used the power. The dagger glowed bright and the awoo's and hilda vanished a glowing dagger on the floor of terra to awaken sometime in the future
Personality:Awoda is a combination and fused persona of three beings. Hilda and two awoos. Their names are Tracey and Morgan. They are resilent and are not one to back down. They believe in the pursuit of justice and fighting for whay you love. They are much purer then the old form. They fight for more certain ideals hope love and the soldiers who will fight for it. They are determined to make sure what happened to the old universe never happens again. That despair that flooded everything shall never be allowed to rise again!
Appearence:A small curved dagger that pulses with energy. Picture's carved into it showing the struggles of the tragedy of the old world. But also of hope of love and of heroism. The blade shines and it shines brightly.

Type:Demigod.

Spheres: Hope: Level 1 love: Level 2 soldiers: level 1

>>1383518
Fuck I gotta step up my game crook.

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>>1383504
History:

Dharma was once Daru-Mahk a human living in the outer regions of the Tizoic Empire during the period of the final wars. After witnessing many horrors Daru fled from civilization in disgust. Turning his back on all other teachings Daru devoted himself to self perfection. Eventually Daru reached the rarified planes of enlightenment and spent most of his time in ascetic meditation.

When the gods died, and the world froze, and the planes came crashing down Daru was quickly trapped in his little cliff side meditation shrine. Fortunately for the mortal a fragment of the plane of enlightenment came with him. As Daru settled himself to meet death with a calm and untroubled mind a way to survive presented itself to him.

Through a rigorous breathing and meditation technique he would be able to sustain his body indefinitely, but would never be free to leave. If the world never recovered he would remain here slowly freezing solid until one day, unnoticed even by himself, he would die.

Undaunted by the difficult path before him Daru wrote a final epitaph to the world that was before settling in to wait for the world to come. Months turned into years, and years into decades, and finally into centuries. And through it all Daru who would become Dharma was still and silent. As the insidious fingers of frost crept across his flesh he feverishly fought within his mind. As the room cracked from the weight of ice Daru murdered his weaker selves. And when at last a new dawn brought with it an incredible surge of divine power Dharma stood easily as the divine spark recreated frozen and decrepit flesh in the image of his perfected mental self.


(History OOC)

Daru was host to a rare strain of symbiotic thaumovore bacteria that had colonized his body. Throughout his life it fed on magical energies in him preventing him from developing any conventional potential. However with the dearth of magical energies during the fall of the gods the bacteria was forced to subsist on Daru's thermal and electrical energy producing ki as a byproduct. This ki combined with the fading dimensional leakage and Daru's absolute commitment to doing nothing enabled him to survive.

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This should be fun.

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>>1383534
Dogma: Dharma will teach the martial arts to anyone irregardless of why they wish to learn. It is a central tenant of his philosophy that your enemy is a precious gift that forces you to improve. In keeping with this it is not unusual for Dharma to take particular interest in a promising mortal, only to go out of his way to make their life difficult. Followers of Dharma are taught to embrace the suffering and hardship of life, and to lean in to conflicts.

Death to followers of Dharma is inevitable, after all if even the old gods can die what permanency can the rest of us expect. Therefore merit is found in living ones life fully. Fight every enemy, love every lover, learn every technique. Even if you are dashed to the floor 10,000 times you will only fail if you remain there the 10,001st.

Such is the way of Dharma.

Practices: followers of Dharma, like their god, view training as the second most holy activity.

The most holy activity is to spill the blood of a worthy enemy in combat, or to have the same done to you.

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>>1383478

... a new hope? A new path?
What will it bring? We have yet to find out.
... Mayhaps this path is one of peace. It would be wonderful to have some quiet.
Alas... we shall see.

>Name: Neji, Traveller

>Background: A god of unknown age. it is to be assumed they have experienced quite a lot of cycles in other dimensions. As memory serves, they fought in many conflicts. They try to resolve conflict without any party losing, joining the side of the weaker party whenever balance is lost, until the point where the fight ended. Having done so many more times, they learned to appreciate the time of the quiet, but also having distanced themselves from others. They are learning to open up again, by having made many companions in the past dimension. Non of them followed into the new dimension, but in hopes of seeing them once more, they moved on regardless... which brings to this moment.

>Personality: Kind, quiet, interested in life as a whole. A tranquillity and serenity, added to a bit of sadness. They seek not to control, nor to dominate. They create for the sake of creation, seeing things unfold. They are an experienced god.

>Appearance: While they have many different forms, their main feature is a mask obscuring their face, overall feminine shape, as well as the fox-like features. They are wearing an comfortable robe, and carry a lamp with them. The lamp emits a constant warmth of comfort, the light reminiscent of a sunset.

>Type: God

>Spheres and levels: Dualism/Balance III, Duplicity I

Name-Legion
Appearance-A hooded and cloaked figure, bound in a tattered cloak underneath which can be seen dented and rusted armor. In his gaunteleted hand is a sword of razored, ghostly steel, a faint mist cascading from the blade. The mist occasionally forms faces screaming in rage, crying in grief and singing in ecstatic joy. His voice carries with it a chorus of thousands, some speaking truth, some lies, some preaching love, some howling in hate. But above them all is an iron will, enforcing the will of Legion above its many fractured parts.
Type- God
Spheres- Conflict ll creation ll
Backstory- A Giants final toil, a sundered hammer, a broken god. This is all the memory that Legion has of his birth. Upon the Death of Grom at his forge, the teeming souls of his followers were lost and alone. Without their lord to remake them into the Divine metal or the mighty Reforged they were doomed. At first they fasted, hoping against hope that their lord would awake and return to them.

He never did.

As souls lost their energy and faded away they began feeding upon the traces of divine energy left in the mountainous corpse of their fallen god. Those scraps fed them for eons until there was simply no more left.

In hunger and desperation the souls turned upon each other, consuming and being consumed in turn. The war of souls lasted for time without count until only two remained.

A soul that desired to see the world flourish with life and be reborn in their lords name. To bring a new world into creation and nurture it.

A soul that desired all life to face the hardship and misery that they had. To see life struggle and toil without hope.

For centuries they battled, with blades of soulsteel until they shattered. They fought with claw and tooth, ripping and tearing at their opponents essence.

At last they fell, too weak to continu their struggle, their essences mixed and from their broken bodies, came Legion.

A howling storm of screaming voices assaulted the newly born god, driving him to his knees. With shaking hands he clasped his tormented head and forced his will upon the multitude.

"SILENCE! I... Am...in control.... I ... Am the Child of Grom.... I am Destruction and Creation...Birth and Death... Love and Hate...."

He grasps a fallen blade of soulsteel and kneels before the shattered Forge

"Our name is Legion....for we are...many"

>FINAL DRAFT.

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"Ah, the dunes... Hills of changing dust and sand... Y'know, the desert may seem like a rather boring and arid place but only one thing stays the same there friends... The heat!" The colorful merchant chuckles and continues his tale to the strangers who entered his tent. "Jokes aside, the desert hides many dangers friends, vile creatures, grand sandstorms and marauding robbers... And greedy merchants!" The man of brown complexion laughs once again. He trully looked silly and weird to his guests, who were browsing through his exotic wares. "For merchants and craftsmen who want to sell their products, these threats are a great problem! Therefore..." The merchant pulls out even more wares which peek the interest of his soon-to-be buyers. "They pray to Tajiral, the god of Trade and Craftsmen, to protect them on their long travels and secure them great fortune..." He then chuckles and snaps his fingers, getting the attention of his guests. "Now, enough of my tales. Lets make bussines!"

>Name: Tajiral
>Background: It is said that Tajiral was the first man to ever paddle his wares and craft items for sale and that opened his way to godhood.
>Personality: He's a merchant at heart. He will try, hell, succeed in selling his exotic and sometimes, godly wares. Therefore, he's silver-tongued and a light-hearted, cheerful god... until you try to steal one of his items, of course.
>Appearance: He appears as a man of brown complexion, wrapped in exotic clothes. He also has a sabre on his side which represents the 'protection' sphere.
>Type: Demigod
>Spheres and levels: Trade II, Crafting I, Protection I

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>>1383478
>Name: Mordurail

>Background:
Long ago in a time before memory. An egg floated in the cosmos, teeming with power and purpose. Inside of this egg was a being destined to hold authority amongst the cosmos, as such its forebearers. It squirmed and grew, the lights in the world around it dimming and brightening. But as it grew into a distinct fetus, it gained a realization beyond purpose. That the world was dying, it reverberated through all things. All the stars pulsated, blaring a horid opera. The end was imminent. And it seemed as if no help would come.

But in a haze of nebulous fog, came something unexpected, unimportant and inevitably universe changing. A being with a weak power, she called herself an ancient who descended from the gods. Created and toyed with most like, but the larva of a god had no say in the matter. After desciphering that no harm would come from the egg, She removed it from the celestial throne. Ignorant fool! The squishy mortal never realized the gravity of her decision.

Over time the feeling of the cosmos drifted away from the egg bound being, causing panic within the soon to be hatchling. Conversly, the squishy mortal called Mordurail treated him like a child. The annoyance and disdain turned into curiosity and normalcy. She grew older, and older, so so old. Yet her mortal subjects disdained her for her cruel ways. She wished to harness the power of the egg. This her son knew, but every night cycle on the infantesmaly small rock they inhabited, the mature babe looked out from his shell and up at the sky and saw it's ultimate destiny.

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>>1384037
But it wasnt anymore. When it finally felt ready to hatch, it simply couldnt. The shell hardened for good it seemed, and there was no juice or will inside the egg to break out. It was the female's fault, or was it its parents fault, or whos fault was it really? Was it its own? All the unborn celestial wanted was to feel comfortable now. He didnt want anything about this saving the universe urge. Why should he care? Its probably just a myth in any case. He wants to take care of mother. She looks so old. She doesnt deserve all the hate, nothing her subjects say could change that.

And 147 celestial cycles after he was given a gendered distinction and adopted, she died. Mordurail died. The only name that gave him any sense of emotion or frivolity. He felt it in his bones, it was as if something in his head was screaming. The cosmos were calling to him about her death, and the egg threatened to shatter. But alas, the emotion that he harnessed was used in all its purpose, and he raged back at the despicable suction. So crushing in force, he wanted her back he wanted his mother back. He wanted to be told trivial bedtime stories and be poked by magical things, those were especially fun.

In the end. It was empty. A single egg. Rotting in the black. Nothing to see or do. And in the egg a crying god.

There are no celestial cycles in the void. But in the egg there was the exception, the proverbial clock ticked and tocked. And without anything to strive for, the shield of the cosmos broke his shell. A brilliant flash took him to this new universe. And with his corpse, a legacy...


This was all that Mordurail was able to decipher from her creation. After scouring her father's deathbed for clues as to her purpose. Reading the stars.

She was disappointed.

>Personality:
Ashamed of her name and identity, doesnt appreciate mortals and highly distant to other intelligence because of it. Pragmatist yet impressionable due to youth and prior wisdom from her father's impact on the stars. Feels like a foreigner, yet harbors a fierce determination to correct her father's mistakes and a passion to retain respect and sense of control.

>Appearance:
A big fuckall cosmic dragon. Pic related.

>Type:
God

>Spheres and levels:
Cosmos I
Light I
Protection I
Dragons I

>>1383509
>>1383478
>Background: He felt weak, he felt empty, he felt broken, but even worse... He felt alone. A lone figure wandered an endless desert naught but ruins insight. Draped in a red cloak he walked forward seemingly with no goal. There was nothing for him here. Nothing but rubble that itched at the back of his mind. That reminded him he wasn't whole. That he lacked something. Not just his memories but something inside him. That made him strong. Made him complete. As he stumbled on he came along a structure worn away by he sand...Wait that shouldn't be possible...Or is it? This is wrong...As he entered his curiosity peeking he found a room with a glyph carved into the floor on it a headband golden yellow. It called at him and that itching took over his mind. It was his. But how did he know? Who made this...And why? As he walked forward and stepped on the glyphs he saw it...Nothing...a void but what was this void
, this darkness...Why was he seeing it...Why was he *feeling* it. Almost as he could reach out and be there in a moment...And why did he feel like this was wrong...Like this darkness could be more.

He took the bracer and donned it. He was lonely, weakened, broken, and without memory but even then he felt that urge. To make something...Explore something...Discover...And what better thing to start with than nothing

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>>1383489
((Minor changes of spheres))
>Name: Havox
>Appearance: a young child no older the 10 who wears brightly colored clothing and carries a pouch were he stores all of his dice and cards.
>Type: God
>Spheres and levels: Entertainment II, Fortune I, Gambling I

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>Name: Revels
>Background: Revels is the god of celebration, when the second kindling happened and the sun was restored, the world knew such happiness and hope that a god was manifested of that joy. That is revels, young to this world and tied to nothing but the party that spawned him. The morals of his existence are new and yet to be forged.
>Personality: Careless and jolly. Revels is only concerned with celebration. They frequently make things and forget about it. They avoid responsibility for their actions.
>Appearance: A large beastman, barrels of ale tied to his back and bottled hung on his hip. Revels is also always eating, whatever food it is depends on the location and mood.
>Type: Demigod
>Spheres and levels: Alcohol IV

>>1383491
>When he realized he was a god, the thing that brought him to it was that he was humming a song. Ever since then he was enamored by that, both the music and hearing. While he does enjoy the beauty of music he still enjoys listening to ones voice. One of his pleasures is embodying the various different pitches, from the low basses to the high soprano's to even higher or lower sounds only instruments can make. He loves listening to the sounds things make.

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The normally pleasant yapping of cares would resemble demonic laughter when concealed by night. Now the unnatural silence and droppings which crystallise amongst the sordid, unchanged straw of the coop are even more disconcerting. Skeletal branches claw their way out of the dark and through cottage windows like arms from graves and children cowered under bed straw. Due to candle shortages, even the normally bright and crowded town hall is obscured in black. The child cowers to footsteps of what would in normal circumstances be shrugged off as an ally cabbit, possibly. Wrapped like vine on the central spire, something watches intently from the rooftops, three individuals huddling up the hill towards the only remaining brightness in the village.
“Would somebody remind me why we haven’t ordered a traditional manhunt yet?” Grumbles a tall, stout man with a head so bald it could pass for the second coming of the sun (this time with a body to match its power)
The thick, musty air laps at the bark door as three village elders reluctantly enter, grimacing at the stench of candlewax, herbs and obscure fermented ingredients. The room, while disorderly and dimly lit, is keen to let visitors know of the proprietor’s wealth, through its array of jars, rare animal bits on strings, gleaming charms. None of these items, however, are more abominable than what lies in the room’s centre.
The shambolic mess of fur, twigs and arcane symbols lifts its nose – the sole indication a person inside - to face the at best semi-welcome intruders.
“Who dares to enter the realm of the Witchdoctor? I have a very busy schedule, the fumbleweed is near to brupping and it’s almost lunchbreak. What do you want?”
biashara
, elder of trade, speaks first.
“Well, um, you see, oh Witchdoctor, sightings of footprints on the main street have grown more numerous and many villagers have expressed concern over missing-“
“I was studying the figglebranches you gathered for me last Oþstober. It was left by an ogle-side footprint, I presume?”
The elders glance at each other nervously, but quickly remember their comfortable authoritarian positions as all knowing village leaders. Even the most unsettling of people must know their place.
“Of course, how on Terra could one think otherwise?” Puffed
Mafunzo, elder of training. “And a second harper was collected during the midnight on the twenty-first.” He added in an attempt to accentuate his aura of knowledgeable prestige.”
“A harper, are you sure you don’t mean a harple? I suggest you leave terming of these events to my expertise, Illich. Or do you think you could make a better witchdoctor?”
The men stand frozen, save for Mafunzo whose cheeks reddened to the point that they could light the trio’s way back down the hill. Yet he stands motionless.

>>1384690
“And in any case, what you do very well understand is that the time has been midnight for half of a season. All manner of unnatural occurrences have taken place since the disappearance of the sun and many neighbouring towns not aided by divination have perished to the forces of the shadows.”
At last, Mavuno, elder of harvest, speaks.
“Then what are we to do? This beast terrorises our village night and… night. Citizens are afraid to leave their cottages to go about their daily lives. If this continues for any longer this humble parish shall fall to ruin just like the others.”
“Whatever creature is responsible for the disappearance of your villagers and the overabundance of harple, figglebranch and hornsprollich must be dealt with by means of consulting of the divine. In the meantime take this.”
From his undergrowth of hair, the Witchdoctor produces a small satchel of whatever sour smelling concoction the man had produced by Tizo-knows what means and lays it upon the floor in front of him. The three elders peer as close as the fumes permitted them; a few unstable steps backwards from that point once the bag is been opened. The contents present a repugnant, fleshy powder.
“Combine with the pubic hairs of three virgin maidens on the first day of Nidavember and sprinkle along the town roads.”
“What should that accomplish?”
“Magic works in mysterious ways. Now pay up.”
Unswich relinquishes a small satchel and gently nudges it towards the Witchdoctor who sceptically examines its contents.
“This was the best we could gather from our supplies.”

>>1384694
“Let’s see, bread, vegetables, beaded necklaces; you truly are failing as a society if this is the finest you can muster for my toils. Do you understand the power required to create these cures? I shall accept the offer for now, but I require full payment and interest by next Kekeuary. Now BEGONE before I engulf your muzzards in feltscrub oil!”
Fearing for their muzzards, the three scamper through the doorway to the unpleasant night of the town. Facing over the Witchdoctor was a danger few but the elders could muster enough courage to perform, but no one can deny him an offering. Though the elders are reluctant to admit it , the village is held in total reliance upon his alchemic power. So caught up in their escape, they fail to notice shadowy footsteps forming in the opposite direction or even the door slam behind them while the Witchdoctor remains in the room’s centre, gnawing on what was left of a carrot. A dark vapour surrounds the room and eventually settles to a fine mist.
>”You have them eating from your service like famished dogs in a butcher’s shop.”
“Thanks to your power, I can finally have some kind of control over this world. These fools will believe everything I tell them as long as it means getting rid of your tricks.”
>”But the abattoir is closed and meat is in limited supply. One day it’s going to be all of them against you. What’s left of the world will soon vanish like the sun and its gods. I cannot remain in this world for much longer or I will collapse with it and you know I could never take you with me.”
“What is this talk of leaving, now? You were fashioned from the townspeople’s own superstition. You’re just a figment of the imagination. How can accomplish do anything outside of the realm of my power?”
>”Realm of power? This ‘Witchdoctor’ act is even fooling you. Remember, you have as much of an idea of what a harple, figglebranch or muzzard are as any of the loonies running this place.”
“But I just make it up like I did you. If the elders believe that a bag of charred liver and clay is the cure to terrifying monsters, they will believe me. All I have to do is have you leave them alone.”
>”Make me? I do this out of my own free will.”
“You have no free will. You are a figment of combined imagination and are controlled by the fears of the people. Don’t be so stupid.”
>”I don’t need you in order to survive when everyone believes in my presence. I can become more powerful than you could ever have imagined without you and I don’t even need followers, only believers. If you want me to leave them alone now, then so be it.”
“I’d like to see you try.”

>>1384706
The seething mist turns to thick heavy fog and begins circulating the room. A sudden gush of fury breaks a jar, snaps an ingredient from its hook or knocks a book from its shelf. The outbreak turns more ferocious with every attack on the Witchdoctor’s collection. Soon it is as if a cyclone has ensued within the home which creaks and split as if it were transcending to the realm of gods.
“You are like a young child who knows that its tantrum shall accomplish nothing, but still continues. The only reason you can exist is because we say you do. If the witchdoctor is powerless, then the whole village will see me for what I am.”
>”So be it!”
“If the village ceases to believe in my power, then you shall perish with it. The only reason they trust your existence to be true is because I perpetuate that idea. You cannot survive without the village’s imagination.”
>”I don’t need you to force this dying world upon my life!”
And with one final blow the timber supports shattered, walls cave in and the roof collapses upon the Witchdoctor’s body. A fine mist forms once more as the shadowy being looks upon what it has done. It feels a level of pride which only just seems to overpower its feelings of guilt. This was what it had always wanted, after all. It feels freedom of mind. It feels all the thoughts of the villagers at once, fear, despair, hatred, and it feels its form begin to change.
Now that the Witchdoctors mind is destroyed, what the villagers truly think of it; their deepest fears, phobias, what they hate the most, what they weep over, all flows through the beings body. Large talons sprout from the air and sink through the ground, leaving footprints as deep as they are wide. Figglebranch invents itself just to latch onto the hairy body of the beast. Spiders dangle from its belly, faces of men and other vile creatures boil from its sides, a gargantuan nose erupts from the front and a serpentine tail from the back. Two great, wooden, skeletal wings sprout from its back.
>”So this is how they think of me, is it? Am I the monster here?”
It turns to the village and leaps through the air, exhaling cackles of a dozen cares. A child whimpers.
>”The real monster, the one they trusted, is dead now. I may be made from their imagination, but now I am real as they soon shan’t be. I need the villagers as much as I needed that excuse for a doctor. If I can escape the clutches of such a vile creature, I can leave the barriers of this world once and for all.”
The beast flaps through the night, past forest, mountains, oceans and clouds and through to the never ending cosmos. While the sun held the power of the gods, the beast was created from the fabric of minds and needs no Sol to form its fake-divine power. By this power it crafts a portal through the sky and flings itself into the multiverse.

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>Name: Ariovistus
>Type: God
>Spheres and levels:
Chaos II
Disease I - This encompasses both physical and mental illnesses.
Invertebrates I

>Personality:
A trickster, laughs easily. Quite energetic and impulsive, may not think things through sometimes. He doesn't see direct conflict as the first option, but it's definitely not out of the question. He can find a battle quite envigorating. He finds animals quite distasteful, except, of course, for his insects and other invertebrate creatures. He revels in causing disorder, stating that it is "very funny".

>Appearance:
A mass of what can be best described as dark grey tentacles, maggots or worms, though their texture is dry as if it were stone, it is twisted into human form and kept in place by a dark armor, its helm being in the shape of a skull, the glow of his green eyes slipping through. His form is quite free, as he is a shapeshifter, but he recognizes the importance of a consistent figure.

>Background:
" Hahahahahahahaha how the fuck is fear real hahahaha nigga just accept death like embrace the maggots haha."

Ariovistus was created in a time before time by forces unknown. The first memory he possesses is that of looking upon the face of an ambitious man, who requested an army worthy of an emperor, he decided to fulfill his request, giving him a monstrous army of giant worms.. The man used the worms to destroy the countries of the mortals, becoming near unstoppable.

Now as emperor of the world, the man once again turned to him, now asking to be made into a god, promptly, Ariovistus brought the emperor to a world of his own making to rule over a dimension made of maggots for the rest of eternity. With the emperor and his army of demon worms gone, a huge power vaccum had been opened and the world fell into chaos again as the emperor's lords fought over the lands he had left behind.

When the loyal lords of the land came for Ariovistus, seeking revenge for the killing of their emperor, he released a swath of dark insects which spread his wicked diseases, parasitic worms which made the livestock and their produce unedible, giant dark locusts which ate the crops, and he cursed the lords with a vile disease, slowly making them forget themselves and regressing into a state of savagery.

But that is just an ancient tale, now, after a slumber lasting eons, he seeks to be entertained by the chaos once again.

>>1384713
Where is the universe, where did it go? Where will the beast land, who really knows?
Who really cares? The beast, Mganga, the new Witchdoctor, does neither.

>Name: Mganga
>Type: God
>Personality: A young being in the grand spectrum of the divine, Mganga can be somewhat arrogant and at times underestimate a dangerous situation. While its powers have waned slightly since landing in the new universe, Mganga possesses great cunning and can easily scare a village into believing all sorts of fairy-tale nonsense. It will even assist another god if it benefits itself, just don’t attempt to control it or it may throw a tantrum.
>Appearance: A Chimera-like creature, its head and body is covered by thick, matted hair in the midst of which lye various plants, animals, bottles, jars, things on strings, books and any array of strange objects from the old Witchdoctor’s cabin. The faces of various creatures poke out from its body as well. It possesses the talons of a bird and the tail of a serpent. Its nose is the size of its head and its wings are fashioned from branches. While this creature can now live for itself, it cannot expel the image it was given physical existence in.
>Spheres and levels: Superstition 2, rare and unusual creatures 1, cures 1.

>>1383516
A lone boy is walking throufh the woods, carrying out an errand by his mother. Little that he knows, a predator is stalking him. An unearthly figure moved about the woods, followig the boy. When the boy reached his destination, he found out that the village he was supposed to visit is in ruins. Houses pillaged, corpses lying about and bandits roaming its grounds. They noticed the boy's presence straight away. The boy ran and ran but he was not fast enough. The bandits caught up to him, promising him a grisly end. The boy prayed to whatever gods may be to help him and his prayers are...unfortunately answered. The unearthly figure that stalked the boy in the woods appeared, the boy screaming in fright upon seeing this monstrosity, but the bandits could not see a thing. The monster howled so loudly that the boy felt that his eardrums was about to burst...then he blacked out. When he returned to his senses, he was standing atop of a corpse, the bandit's. His hand felt warm, because it is embedded into the bandit's guts. His mouth tastes foul, because he have eaten the flesh of humans. His legs are sore, because he had been chasing the bandits like an enraged beast. The other one sat near him in fear and terror. The boy stood up, in his mind there is only "hunt", "kill" and "devour". What was the boy is long gone after The Beast answered his prayer, and the screams of agony echoes through the woods for hours. Tge beast hungers, and he will not rest.

>>1383516
A lone boy is walking throufh the woods, carrying out an errand by his mother. Little that he knows, a predator is stalking him. An unearthly figure moved about the woods, followig the boy. When the boy reached his destination, he found out that the village he was supposed to visit is in ruins. Houses pillaged, corpses lying about and bandits roaming its grounds. They noticed the boy's presence straight away. The boy ran and ran but he was not fast enough. The bandits caught up to him, promising him a grisly end. The boy prayed to whatever gods may be to help him and his prayers are...unfortunately answered. The unearthly figure that stalked the boy in the woods appeared, the boy screaming in fright upon seeing this monstrosity, but the bandits could not see a thing. The monster howled so loudly that the boy felt that his eardrums was about to burst...then he blacked out. When he returned to his senses, he was standing atop of a corpse, the bandit's. His hand felt warm, because it is embedded into the bandit's guts. His mouth tastes foul, because he have eaten the flesh of humans. His legs are sore, because he had been chasing the bandits like an enraged beast. The other one sat near him in fear and terror. The boy stood up, in his mind there is only "hunt", "kill" and "devour". What was the boy is long gone after The Beast answered his prayer, and the screams of agony echoes through the woods for hours. The beast hungers, and he will not rest.

>>1384725
>((After considering the lack of Spirit entries {lonly a single person!} and after a conversation in the discord, I have decided to change Mganga to a spirit. Its being resides in the multiverse it entered and never made its way directly to the new universe. It just sits around it.))

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>>1383562
...
So, you wish to know more of my tales? Very well, I shall try and remember...
My memory is foggy... akin to a swamp. It hasn't been the best since... for some cycles now.
... I will try and remember my moment of birth.

...
...
The conflict. It had always been there. My calling? To ensure nothing is lost.
I protected the weaker of the two. I ensured they had time to prepare. I fought on their side, until the moment we stood at the enemies outposts. I told my allies I would take care of things, and proceeded to sneak in.

They didn't know what hit them. I was swift, and the army that followed made sure the village wasn't destroyed.
It was a shame to see my former allies die... but I had to ensure that nothing is lost. The culture of both my enemies and allies.

I fought for quite some time, always making sure both parties didn't grew stronger than the other.
It came to the point that they refused to fight, and they met on neutral grounds.

I had succeeded in my mission, as the former enemies talked calmly about their demands. They came to a compromise.
This was the last I saw of them, as I had to run the second they agreed.

They grew tired of my "treachery", as they called it, and wanted me killed.
... I am not certain what became of them. I fled as fast as I could.
All this conflict... my acts of balance, my... favouritism of the weaker side... gave me enough to make me the being I am today.

A traveller. A walker of paths.

I walked many paths. Many of them lead to me leaving the conflict. But... there were those of peace.

I always enjoyed the once of peace. I grew tired of the eternal conflicts.
I especially grew tired of any war with more than two parties, which all had different goals.

...
I do not remember the details, but...
I remember the last path I walked.
I was... disconnected before. I had to be, as betraying a companion or friend was less... saddening than betraying someone you don't know that well.
But...
This path... there was little conflict. There was... harmony.
Peace.
True... balance.

... Yet when the cycle came to an end, all my companions wished to stay. They wished to see how things turned out once... it all is reborn.
So I set off on my own...

I wish to see how things turned out for them.
I will see to it some day.
Yet this new path I'm walking on...

Yes, I got good hopes.
Maybe I even can... learn to trust again.
To like, to believe, to...
Love.

> Spheres and levels: Dualism I, Balance II, Duplicity I

>>1383478
>Name: Ragnaros
>Background: The angry god of fire and the sun, he has existed for as long as anyone can remember. He created the sun as his own personal realm and continues to burn at his behest. He cares little for the affairs of other gods alongside those of mortals, thinking of them as beneath him. If mortals wish to gain his favour, they must pay a hefty price in sacrifices and prayer, those who cross him don't live to regret the fact
>Personality: Arrogant and short-tempered, however, with enough potential and devotion he can be won over
>Appearance: Amorphous flames which occasionally resemble a face
>Type: God
>Spheres and levels: Light II Fire II

Alright, I have decided on the six gods that will start off the quest, keep in mind that this isn’t the end for those of you that didn’t get in, you’ll have another chance to be chosen when this universe is inevitably destroyed and maybe the gods will be kind enough to grant you control over a mortal they endowed with a sphere.
Anyways, here are the picks:

Revels, as if anyone doubted that he would get in.

The Cosmic Child, mostly because their the ONLY ONE THAT CHOSE A SPIRIT.

Tajiral

Neji

Mganga, because we need some source of evil in this universe.

And last but not least…

……….


………………………………………………………………………..


RESONARS[/B]!!!!

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Terra, a planet abandoned by it’s sun and it’s gods, drifts aimlessly through the void.
It’s journey has lasted for over four hundred years, and through that time many have died, but some live on, surviving off the remnants of power left over from when the gods blessed the world with their presence.
But now, a new sun has appeared and captured Terra in it’s orbit. How did this happen?

------------------------{Start of Round}------------------------

Cosmic Bodies:
The Sun, A star about the same size as the earth’s sun, it provides light to all planets or structures near it.
Terra, an earth-like planet with a ring in the goldilocks zone, look to Awoo Quest on the discord server for details.


The Cosmic Child; Spirit; Mutation II, Curiosity II: 6 (+6)
Resonnars; God; Sound IV: 6 (+6)
Revels; Demigod; Alcohol IV: 6 (+6)
Tajiral; Demigod; Trade II, Crafting I, Protection I: 6 (+6)
Mganga; God; Superstition II, Rare and unusual creatures I, Cures I: 6 (+6)
Neji; God; Dualism I, Balance II, Duplicity I: 6 (+6)

>>1386559
>4 Acts
Let me make sirens, They shall be excellent singers. With wings of a bird they shall spread song when they can. They shall prefer to live where they're voice echoes the most.
(( gonna make medium sized sentient bird people.))
> 1 act
I shall also introduce an ore that will also make it's own songs.
(( the ore vibrates and literally makes the sound effect for sparkling))

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"Aaaaaah...." Tajiral says as he opens his eyes, feeling the taste of sand in his mouth. He slowly stands up from his bed and washes his face with some water. He gets his clothes on and takes a walk out of his tent. He chuckles, remembering all the times a mortal has entered his tent, expecting a humble shop but instead getting bombarded by all kinds of items, from your usual coffe pots to mighy weapons of heroes long gone. The good ol' "bigger from the inside than from the outside" trick. But enough
reminiscence. He check if his camels need something and if everything is alright. All around him were dunes and the winds were calm, almost non-exisitng. He snorted, thwirled his moustache and went back inside. He didn't lack items to sell but he always wants to have a wide variety of them. So, he pulled out his toolbox and started working...
>1 Act
He starts by opening a sack of gems. All kinds of them, some plain and some magical... All to be used for his precious artifacts. After spending half a hour on it, he takes a look to see what he made. A beautiful golden bracelet made of gold and 2 rubies and one Ignited Rose* shard. In the middle was the shard, radiating a red shine while a stylish rune was engraved upon it. On the left and right side were the rubies, mangnifying the shining of the shard.
A satisfied smile befalls his face. "It's a simple item, granting the wearer fire and heat resistence... Not the best what I made but still... The little things in life matter, no?"

*Ignited Rose - Clusters of red gems which have magical properties regarding fire and heat. It is sought by mages and craftsmen because of those properties but also feared because one wrong move can turn everything around you to ashes.

(cont.)

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>>1386711
//This is how the bracelet should look like. Imagine the shard in the middle and the rubies left and right to it.

>>1386711
[I] "Oh, a craft man I see. Hopefully you'll use the [/I] [blue] Singing stones I made. [/blue]

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>>1386591
>Creating an alternate plane of existence: The Realm of the Wanderers

Life is suffering. And so is the afterlife. As there is no realm that helps those souls come to terms with death, the realm of wanderers serves as a gateway to transcendence.

Those who come in balance with themselves and the universe become one with it, being released from their shackles.


The plane itself resembles a forest, with lakes and ponds, and many different plants, but shrouded in a constant twilight, the only light source being...

>Basic life: Wisps
Small beings, feeding of the energy within the realm. They are the only source of light as of now, and rather distracting for any wandering soul. They are by no means harmful. Though the fact that they ARE distracting, many souls will find them hindering in reaching true transcendence.

>>1386711
>2 Act
He pulls out his hammer and start to hammer steel over a never-ending fire. The sound resonates for a hour in the tent and after that, it's time to take a trip to the workbench once again. He then spends hours engraving a magnificent scripture upon the steel, the script reading "The enemy's blood is your refreshment." After the engraving, he makes the hilt from simple black leather and puts a amethyst in the grip. On the pommel he ties a tail made of soft, red silk. After he made the sword, the engravings start to glow softly in a yellowish manner.

>>1386747
After he finishes the sabre, he hears a voice talk to him. "Hm, a singing stone, you say?" He rubs his chin and asks: "Tell me more about this 'Singing Stone' friend... and something about yourself. I always like to know something about my customers."

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>>1386843
//Forgot the image

>>1386843
"In this plane I made some stones and ore that will make a certain lovely sound, I hope you will make a wonderful creation from it. I'm Resonnars, the newborn god of sound, I enjoy the voice of all."

>>1386893
He chuckles heartily. "Well, I will need to hear for myself then!" He exits his tent and with a snap of his finger, a gust of sand envelops him, his tent and his magnificent camels. He soonly appers on Resonnars' planet, taking a look around. "Hm, not much around..." His eyes then spot a sound stone and he approaches it carefully. He takes one in his hand and gets delightly suprised by the sound it makes. "Now, Resonnars, right? Tell me, would you like to have a nice instrument from this sound stone? I have the feeling that you would like it... Hell, you -would- love it! So, what do you say? Just be sure to have something to trade back."

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>Incarnate= 0 points
Revels yawned, lifting a hand to block out the sun. Why did they even need one of those anyway, it hurt his head.

Revels got up, the drunken master fumbling for his gaze of shadows, the tinned glasses affixed on his head as the god sighed. That's better...

He needed some water, where is the nearest pub.

Yawning the god stumbled through the meadow, bottlecap studded boots crunching grass of solid teeth as the demi wandered the Petal Fields.

In front of him was a iron wrought city, faded festival pennets let afire with burning meat and made jagged with cast iron. Great the god thought nodding, a festival.

The god waddled to the entrance, a gate that better resembled a spear wall looming in front of him. Well that looked dangerous.

With a wave of his hand the door vanishes, the god waddling in, bottles clinking around him as the beastman scratches his face. "Hmmm... where can I find a beer."

The beastman wandered, sighing. "No beer ANYWHERE! This is bull." The man unfastioned the keg straaped on his back, popping open the cork. "If you want something done you gotta..." The man grumbles.

>Acts 3 spent artifact making: The Everbar, its a magical inn with 6 acts worth of magical power

The god kicks the keg, the barrel growing as doors and windows manifested in it, a large fully stocked bar manfiesting out of thin air.

"Ah there we go." The god said walking into the bar, flipping the sign to open as you went to sample the wares personally. Have to make sure its safe.

"Ah, well the lager is good." Revels says downing a glass of beer with a belch.

The bell rings as the door opens, several men walking in, gaunt and with large crossbows on their back.

Oh boy customers.

"Can I help you gentleman?"

"Yes beastfolk, for defiance of the Ministry of Contruction of His Holy Tizo you have been found in contempt." The head of the men said. "Come quietly and you will receive a court trial, resist and recieve a immediate sentence.

What?

>Getting arrested: 0 acts

>>1387028
"I love all sound objects make, however I don't have anything to trade with you right now" Resonnars continues of to go listen.

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>>1386591
Awakened. Living. Breathing. The Cosmic Child feels divine blood run through its veins. Scouring through its mind, the entity finds thoughts that it has never made, things it has never done. Memories from the Father. Scraps of life. They hold knowledge, the knowledge on how to channel this divine power into Creation.

The Cosmic Child lays its many eyes upon Terra. It sees chaos. Mad beings crawl up and down the planet. The earth is black, dead and corrupt. It is sick, rotting. The Child is reminded of the Father's corpse. Terra is so similar. As if the two were connected...
>Create an alternate plane of existence: ”Womb of Rebirth” (-2.5 Divine acts)
It can be fixed. Remade. Mutated. The souls of the dead are lost in this carnage. They can find new life. As the Child was made from death, they shall too.
In the Womb of Rebirth, deceased souls rest, until they are regrown by the Mother of All and become ready to inhabit a new body. A never-ending cycle of life.

However, these souls would stay the same as before. Evil souls would stay evil, good souls would stay good.
No, it was not enough.
>Create something in the Womb of Rebirth: ”Latchers”
inhabiting the Womb are tiny celestial beings, stunted midgets with grabby hands, sunken eyes, and latching appendages. They are curious by nature, and live only to study all souls, carefully mutating them, ensuring each one is different than the last.
Tinkering with a living being’s lifeforce, however, is a dangerous business. In fact, sometimes it happens that these Latchers leave part of themselves within the soul, making the mortal that is born from it to be, in life, a natural discoverer of secrets, with a terribly curious personality.

The Cosmic Child observed its first creations come to existence, and begin scurrying between those recently dead. It felt the pride of creation. The pride of a Father, maybe? No. The pride of a God.

>>1387194
"Hm... Very well then my friend. May the sands of time bring us back together once again." He does a bow and with a snap of his fingers a gust of dust causes him to dissapear... He opens his eyes and he's greeted with a landscape bathed in twilight. He thwirls his moustache, contemplating the lands he's in, but his strain of thought is interrupted by a little Wisp booping into his nose and then flying down a path that leads into the forest. "Well..." He taps his belly and smiles "Perhaps we will find a foxy customer in the woods, no?" He speaks to his camel which is chewing on some grass. "I will take that as a yes, my humpy friend." He then leads his caravan of camels into the woods, following the little wisp.

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>>1386559
((I did change Mganga to a spirit in >>1385797, by the way))

>>1386591
Tumbling through the endless void of the multiverse, the self named Mganga plummets by universe after universe; each appearing stranger than the next. One centered by a ball of raging light and flame, another a strange planet of rings and a frothing, magmatic surface which, stranger still, remnants of life still cling onto. Mganga is reminded of its own human village; creatures in such an uncaring world which could have easily relinquished themselves of suffering if they ended it there, were it not for the powers of...
>"ME! ME! He had absolutely nothing to do with any of it! Filthy cigspawn."
In need of distraction from the traumas of the past, it turned once again the passing flow of worlds. There was another, large and expansive and centred by a ball of raging light and flame and another with a planet of rings and....
Realisation was slow to catch up with the rapidly moving spirit, but when it did it hit it like a roof to a fraud - an undoubtedly better memory clouded by Mganga's astonishment that it had been circling the exact same universe it had made such an effort to leave.
It tried adjusting its course, but to no avail. Creating a portal was next to impossible at such high velocity and for such an inexperienced god.
>"If I am a divine, omnipresent being, what has trapped me to this universe alone?! This is some Beastkinsh**!"
...
"Well do you conceive what I shall do now, whatever binds me here? I shall fabricate a universe of my own. None of your ridiculous authoritarian con-men here. Every creature here will be as dangerous as you would imagine it to be. And I shall make sure you imagine."

By what power the beast can muster in the outskirts of existence and from the thoughts of its creatures, it creates a new plane of existence; Inatisha the realm of the eerie.
Out of the corner of one's eye, they may notice slight movement. From the back of someone's head where no eyes are placed they still experience the sensation of being watched. While the creatures of the Inatisha cannot physically enter the material universe, there is no reason for anybody to know that.

((Build new plane of existance; the Inatisha. Close enough to the material world as for ghostlike visions of its creatures to only just be noticed before disappearing.
>3 acts rounding upwards
Create a creature in this realm known as the Nyeusi. A black and shadowy figure, their bodies morphing like shadow puppets as if the imaginations of others are the unwilling hands that alter their shape.
>1 act))

>>1387252
After travelling a while through the dark forest, he finally comes to a clearing, deciding to make camp on it. He lights a campfire and torches, takes out a chair and starts to make tea. He closes his eyes and smells the fumes from the boiling tea. It relaxes his mind. The nature here so calm... No distractions, no loud sounds... Only the rustling of the leaves and the sparkling of that stone he got. He hums to himself while he pours some hot tea into his cup and he takes a sip. "Aaaaah, the merchant in the Caliphate didn't lie, this is some great tea!" He thinks to himself. After some sips, he empties the cup. He smacks his lips, claps his hands and stands up. "Ah, lets get back to work!"
>1 Act
He takes a handful of the sound stones and sheets of glass, carefully taking measures for his next artefact. He uses his hammer to break the stones into smaller parts while he uses some kind of 'melter' and knife to carve out shapes of glass. He carefully carves runes into the stones, runes that read 'Calmness'. He then heats up the glass once more and he starts arranging the stones into patterns, using the molten glass as a base. After some cooling off, he connects the piece of glasses with firm cords of linen. He taps one of the glasses and soothing, beautiful sounds are heard as the glass taps the glass next to it, creating a chain reaction.

He rubs his eyes and lets out a loud yawn. "Well, enough of tinkering for today..." He takes the windchime with him, hanging it over his bed. The calming sound soon carries him to sleep.

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>>1390062
//I forgot the image... again

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>>1387614
Once safely in Inatisha, Mganga's movement is no longer inhibited by velocity. As it observes its surroundings all manner of dark shapes begin to manifest across the colourless surface of the plane. The spirit appreciated these creatures which could perform its tasks of spooking wary paranoids with only minimal guidance, leaving time to revel in the pleasures of its powers and benefit from finally being alone.
Feeling calmer and now satisfied with its creations, Mganga looks upon the universe.
>>1390062
In a pocket of forest, a man in oriental dress with a face as golden as the sun rests, surrounded by a multitude of wares. Perhaps a trader? Mganga remembered a trader who had entered the decrepid village of presenting a range of bizarre objects which were swiftly confiscated by the Elders who had the man 'exorcised' on behalf of the Witchdoctor declaring him a demon. However, some mysterious aspect of this one - be it charm, wealth or those vibrating rods he hangs from string - sets him apart from the others, or rather has him remain in one piece. Mganga finds this character lively attitude rather repulsive, but would keep watch over him, nonetheless. The vibrating stones are most intriguing.
>"In the meantime, a token."
Using its omnipresent power, Mganga recovers some of the remaining shards of the vibrating rock from the man's work station, plucks a figglebranch from a forest tree and with what divine acts remain, amalgamates the two. The product, a crude toy cicada, seems out of place amongst the wide assortment of astonishingly well made artefacts. How was it fair that some be blessed by such skill and that none of those people were itself?
Mganga refocuses on the toy. It must've felt out of place too, for it has flown onto the hilt of a sword and is chirping determinedly.
"Heh."
>((Create artefact, toy cicada, 2 acts. Flies inconspicuously, but makes a terrible noise. Designed for no other purpose than to annoy.))

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>>1393089
Exhausted from the spirits recent escapade, the isolated outskirts of the world are its to enjoy...
(( >>1387202))
>"I was beginning to think this would be the end of my troubles. Even the space between spaces is colonised."
Upon examination, Mganga finds it to be not indifferent to Inatisha. Inside the womb, souls seems to twist and wave into a spectacle of disturbance as strange midgets prod and mould their ever changing ghostly form. Gruesome, yet harmonious. Mgnanga disregards its initial annoyance and exhaustion to explore the newfound microcosm.
>"How fascinating. Some manifestation possesses a creative process even more nightmarish than mine."
It dawns upon Mganga that this plane and its creator may be worthier of its time than simple tradesmen. Entering the Womb of Rebirth, the spirit calls.
"Do tell me, what congenial being inhabits this land?"

>>1393093
Heeding the call of another divine being, the Cosmic Child materializes within the Womb of Rebirth. The child-god takes a moment to take in this other entity's awe-inspiring appearance. It was... Beautiful. Almost as if the dreams of all souls birthed it.
”All beings inhabit this land, curious spirit. From the smallest...” The Child explains, gently picking up a scurrying Latcher and tenderly caressing the minuscule creature. ”To the greatest.” It continues, gesturing over to the countless shifting souls, which the stunted Latchers lovingly take care of.

>”What brings you here, god of many faces?”

>>1393110
For once it does not detest the company of another. Despite its grotesque appearance, the child's presence is soothing and tone of communication mesmerising. Mganga explains to the many eyed one.
>"My creatures, I name them Nyeusi, thrive upon the mind and emotions of people in the material world. But I fear that, as the influence of powerful groups such as Tizlamists expands, the promotion of their agenda may hinder the diverse, superstitious nature of folklore which I value, replacing natural fear, praise and attempted understanding with controlled. If this happens, the Nyeusi would become boring and monotonous. The souls of your world, however, are under constant alteration, each differing further from the other. If the souls of your plane could somehow affect the formation of the Nyeusi, they could form infinitely wild and magical silhouettes to revitalise the imaginations of Terra."

>>1393089
>>1390062

"A disturbance?"
The divine being strides towards the sleeping form.
They inspect the wind chime. "Harmony..."
And hears the pretend-cicada "And cacophony."
A slight chuckle.
"I enjoy this greatly. Now... is this another traveller?"
They look at the goods the man is carrying. Is this...?
...
A cup clasped in their hands. The mask slightly moved up, so they can drink.
"This tea... I hope they are not too... indignant, that they have a great taste."

Should the traveller awake some time after, they will notice that a lot of the herbs are gone.

>>1393089
Tajiral dreamt of a beautiful oasis in which the water was refreshing to the body and mind. The tall palm shook calmly in the desert wind. It was good until it lasted... He opens his eyes, tired and confused. "Oh, what in the name of all what's holy, is that? It sounds like dying scarab but worse..." He stands up, looking around in a rather miffy manner. What the hell is making that noise, he thinks to himself. He then sees the cicada, happily chirping on the hilt of his newly forged sword. God, that sound is drilling into his skull. He tiptoes around the tent, trying not to scare the bane of his dreams. After digging through some artefacts and some household items, he finnaly finds it... A glass jar. He throws a glare at his enemy, the annoying creature still nestled on the handle of the sabre... "This will be your last chirps, foul fiend..." He mutters to himself while he sneaks up to the cicada. The bug flies off. The next few moments are filled with crashing, cursing, chasing and the occasional fall. The cicada flies out of the tent but Tajiral doesn't give up that easily. With a mighty start, he jumps into the sky, like a majestic eagle, he roars through wind and... crashes down. But wait... The jar... Something is in it... The cicada. "Haha! Take that, you dream stealer!" Tajiral proclaims, victoriously. The cicada answers with panciked chirping, which is still mighty annoying, even tough its in a jar. Tajiral sighs but then he takes a better look at the little beast. It's actually a toy made... of the sound stone? This makes Tajiral wonder. Who made it? He felt a magical presence around it but nothing that was familiar to him... Weird. His thinking got interrupted by the annoying construction... "Ugh... I need to get rid of you" He leaves the jar on the floor and goes back into the tent for a gardening shovel. He then takes the jar and goes deeper into the forest, digging a hole in the wilderness and putting the container into it. He burries it and goes back to his camp. He doesn't even bother with putting the tool back into it's place, instead he just falls onto his bed and starts snoring once again.

>>1393170

"... this fellow. He is a traveller, just like me. I should..."
They ponder for a moment, after having witnessed this.
"I feel like I should repay them. Yes, this is what I should do."
They carry the left behind tools back to their encampment. As they emit a bit of their energy, a wisp comes their way, which promptly gets sealed in a jar, like the one used just moments ago.
They rummage through the belongings a bit more, finding parchment and a brush, as well as ink.
...

The tools have returned to the camp, a wisp is floating in a bottle, alongside a note, stating that the wisp requires a bit of 'energy', but would make for a beautiful lamp.
In the note is also stated, that the tea was delicious, and the assurance that, should they ever want to visit the realm, they should feel free to come over for a bit of tea.
Lastly, a promise that they will make up for the tea properly on a later point in time.

>>1393161
Each of the White Spirit's numerous eyes begin moving, following different patterns as it considers the other entity's proposition. It spoke of truth: boredom, monotony, those stagnant emotions were an insult to the never-ending Cycle of Life.
”Imagination... Making an art out of shifting shadows and flickering figures... It is right. I feel happy. Your Nyeusi, i will give them my blessing!”
The Cosmic Child begins shaking, barely able to contain its growing excitement. It lets out a howl of laughter, before slowly calming again.

>The Cosmic Child has learned of Creativity

Ok, so as you guys have probably guessed by now I'm discontinuing this quest.
It's just piled on top of me far more work than I can handle.
I think I've experienced first hand why these types of quests are so short lived, it seems like it should be easy at first because all you need to do is enter in what the god(s) have created, but you quickly have to spend more and more time simulating everything that is going on in an ever expanding universe, and it's not a question of if you will be overwhelmed, but when.

Sorry I'm not continuing, but I think it's best I stop now rather than halfway through like last time.

TLDR: Games involving a god or gods are nearly impossible to run to completion.
I may start up a different quest, there's a magic system that I've been working on for a while now that would be fun to implement into a game, so I might build a quest around that.

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