The Gods' Requiem (Deity RP| IC

[Wysten]

The God’s Requiem IC

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Onwards, Knights! Our Gods have blessed us on this day! - rallying cry of the unknown legion

Introduction

The Great Schism Event. A catastrophic event that overturned civilizations and took many untold lives. It has been several years since that event, and nations struggle to regain their former glory. Once enslaved species have now risen up and contest against the human supremacy over the land. Temples of the old gods are being rebuilt, granting special powers to the few.

A few things to note:

• Although this is a deity rp, you shouldn’t have your god go on rampages in the mortal world. However, your god can be in the mortal world and influence events.
• OOC Link for more info and lore
• Be respectful and have fun

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[Korhal IVV]

Tol Barud, capital of the Dwarven citadels

Here in the cold, white snows of the north, twelve great mountains rise above the clouds. Twelve mountains, the greatest citadels of the dwarfen dominion. Twelve mountains cities forged from magic and technological mastery. One city broken by chaos. Three besieged and fooled. Another becomes the new center.

Looking out towards the icy blizzards, High Keeper Mael Stellion stares down from the windswept embattlements of the new dwarf capital: Tol Barud, the City of Technocrats. The fur robe worn by the High Keeper was already covered with snow, swept in by the cold winds. Looking at the frozen grounds in front of the great gates, he could make out the hundreds of broken machines and corpses, remnants of the battle against the forces of chaos.

Turning away, he walked back towards the throne room. He was escorted by the Tomb Guard, venerable warriors that are veterans of a hundred battles. Armored with the best armor plating that the prestigious artisans and smiths of Tol Barud can forge, they were the perfect protectors of a dwarf lord of such caliber.

The Throne was wrought from gold and diamond. The armrests were forged from the furs of Northern White Lions, and the backrest was made of pure diamonds. As he walked back towards it, the nine other lords of the Citadels awaited. Aziris Dragonslayer stood resplendent in his dragonscale armor, forged from the skin and bones of dragons that he slew. Magatha silently mused as her violet mage robes fluttered in the winds circulating through the wide and open halls of Tol Barud. Neptukos the Tidehunter was quiet as well, dressed in blue robes. Zermeon the Windmeister and Shas'ir the Farsighted, long crippled, were confined to wheel chairs, but they're still of great value to the Citadels. Gotrek Crownbreaker, Thorgas Fireheart, and Archdruid Herstostrasz stood hand in hand like brothers in arms and blood. Besides them were two gravestones. One was for Frosnir the Ice Master, who slain defending his realm from chaos. The other was for the late High Lord Kelenor Embermeld, who disappeared for unknown reasons. The dwarfs do not hope that he yet lives

As he arrived, the High Keeper spoke to them with earnest urge. "My fellow lords. Every citadel has finally reawakened. Our forges are supplying our armies with endless war materiel, and our warriors ready to march. The shadow gathers in the horizon as the Dark Beings prepare to wage war against the kings of the south.

Tomorrow, the legions march."

[Great Celestial China]

seems interesting
tag
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[Wysten]

seems interesting
tag
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This is the IC delete this post

[Higher Japan]

Tower of manacar

The floors and levels of the tower once again began to shift as the 3 headed demon, known as Manacar, laid in slumber deep within the tower. The statue laid still, statue guards defending it as the sound of foot steps could be heard coming up the shifting labyrinth. The statue awoke as the side statues lifted up their weapons, a staff and a sword, while the center merely looked on at what would approach them. Upon hearing the sounds of their own guards being killed, they went into a phase which resembled that of sleep in appearance, but not in actual mind.

As a group of tomb raiders, most likely sent by a wealthy merchant, came to the front of the altar they began to take it apart. Upon feeling the chains get cut, such that they could be moved, the statues awoke as the statue of ruin slammed her staff down, summoning flowers that consumed some of the raiders as the other raised swords up from the ground. Within seconds, the group had been slaugthered and their souls consumed. As the last member tried charging at the core, nothing would remain of them as a bright beam of blue was released, blasting through the wall as the core began to spin.

Slowly, the entire tower turned into a black like hue as it shook violently for a second, before disappearing onto another divine plane. As it reappeared onto an empty, floating plane, flowers began to sprout up as the tower was soon covered in foliage and darkness. Releasing a mass burst of dark energy that could most likely be felt even on the mortal plane, for Manacar has awoken from it's slumber, at long last.

[Gryphonian Alliance]

On the plains of Eastland, up against the Interior Ocean, is the State of Haveraw. And upon a peninsula dipping into the great inner ocean is the city of Beldecam, the capital and seat of the monarch, King Dedernes. A bustling port city, it makes much of its profits off of the sea, trapping for crithens in the shallows and spearing depthlurks in the deep waters. But once a year, the unique weather conditions of the area create an upwelling of nutrients dredged from the deep sea, drawing fish and mammals from the entire ocean to feed off the coast. Great herds of muldebeest, schools of fish from the miniscule streamers to the monstrous gimstrod, the reptilian sea-gulps. Every spring, on the first day of the Soionic calendar, is when the harvest began.

But something was changing. It was proposed that the ancient magic powering the system was breaking down due to age, or perhaps Soion had forsaken them, or maybe the god of the sea, Golondor, had discovered the systematic upwellings and decided to cut them off. Whatever it was, the upwellings are getting weaker. Less fish came up every year. Hundreds of people migrated inland to make a living as grain farmers, or east, to the floodplains of Neuveren, where rice was farmed.
The economy was in trouble. The people were not satisfied. And if King Dedernes could not do anything to save the upwellings, then he would be lawfully deposed in 15 months.

Starckle Dedernes had been in power for over a decade. Soon after hearing of the reports of a slow harvest season, he sent out his royal oceanographers to find out the cause of the decreased upwellings. They did not find anything, suggesting that it was perhaps just an erratic season, and it would be back to full strength next year. But it wasn't. Dedernes was worried. After looking through a scroll on the patterns of the upwellings, he discovered that the upwellings had remained constant over many years.
He sighed. Rolling it back up, he returned to his throneroom, where he conversed with his advisors on the threat.
Eventually, someone proposed an idea.
"Kinghold, what if we send an expedition to He'geth-rh'rine in the Calegorian Peaks?" a younger advisor suggested.
Immediately, several advisors turned the idea down. Something unknown and sinister had cursed the peaks, on the edge of the known world, a forbidding place of blizzards and volcanoes. No visitors from Haveraw had ever returned alive for forty years. He'geth-rh'rine was the only known structure ostensibly built before the Great Depredation, but it had been rendered inaccessible due to the curse. It had been used for many years before the curse-enactment as a place to commune with the heavenly planes and the incomprehensible abode of Soion.

Dedernes mulled it over. Wouldn't the potential deaths of a few carry less weight than the starvation and despair of thousands of people?

"I believe this may be our only remaining chance to commune with Soion in his heavenly abode. Let's look to utilitarianism here. Even if a few explorers don't make it, if just one can, wouldn't that save our entire country? The greater good.
And besides, we've made incredible advances in technology since the last travelers perished on the way to He'geth-rh'rine. Crossbows. Magnetic compasses. Astrolabes. Gunpowder rockets. We'll take an expedition force consisting of forty of our Whitestorm Battalion, specially trained for snow combat. I think we might actually have a chance here."

He turned to Laboq Ajakoh, his military advisor. "Do you think we could divert Whitestorm from the frontlines at Jolden's Field? And is it capable of entering the Calegors?"

"Kinghold, I believe so. The situation appears to be under control against the Byo-kelyo. We still have maps of the mountain range, though the volcanic activity in the region may have shifted the landscape slightly. It will be a good oppurtunity to document the threat in the Calegorian Peaks and whether or not we could clear it out. We'll need to take a Wield Squad, fully equipped with telein and stæv. There are three residing in the Multiethion on Guertion Street?"

"That is correct. Very well. We absolutely must get this mission underway as soon as possible." Starckle stared at the long table for a moment before turning to his Wield Advisor. "Summon a squad at once."

"Of course, kinghold."
The old man searched through his enormous sack. When a long snake attempted to slither out, he shoved it back in before drawing out a large vessel. After unscrewing the lid, he picked it up and emptied the contents into his mouth. He spasmed for a second before regaining his composure. Wiping his lips with a napkin, he exhaled loudly, releasing a bluish mist that coallesced into hundreds of orbs of a cerulean liquid.

Droplets of liquid suspended in mid-air elongated into strings before uniting into a blob of flesh-red and dun brown that split and resolved into three figures wearing oversized capotains.

Dedernes frowned and whispered to the Wield Advisor. "Why are they all... children?"

"Ah. You see, all of the advanced Wielders aside from me have gone to the battlefields at Jolden's Field. All that are left behind are Learners."

Starckey turned to an open scroll. "And it's not like we could risk withdrawing any. Without a Wield advantage, our forces would be immediately overwhelmed."

"You could always wait until after the war's over to send an expedition, Kinghold," another advisor suggested.

"No. I believe it is important that we start this operation as soon as possible, lest the economy fall to shambles at the next harvest season in four months. I suppose the Learners will do. Take them back to where they came from, please. I have no need of them until the Whitestorm troopers arrive."

"Of course, Kinghold," said Ajakoh. "It shouldn't take longer than a week for the message to reach the battelfield and the soldiers to return to Beldecam."



OOC: How long has it been since the Great Schism?