- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- Multiple posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- On fairly regularly, every day. I'll notice a PM almost immediately. Replies come randomly.
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- No Preferences
- Genres
- High fantasy is my personal favorite, followed closely by modern fantasy and post-apocalyptic, but I can happily play in any genre if the plot is good enough.
It had been long enough since Persika had taken a bath that she was starting to wonder if mushrooms were going to start growing out of her hair alongside the ground. The idea didn't really bother her all that much, she couldn't help but think that "mushroom bed" would be a better purpose for the mass of curls that normally resided on top of her head than some simple decoration, however it also meant that her scalp was starting to itch like she had bugs crawling around up there. Which, in all honesty, she might.
However, when she paused briefly to lift up loam-covered fingers to scratch among her matted dreads, she froze only a moment later as she made eye contact with the glowering foreman standing on the path that separated her current field from her neighbor's. The man's hand dropped ominously towards the whip strapped to his waist, and Persika immediately lowered both head and fingers, returning to rooting through the rich soil to find the pebble sized blue mushrooms that half-filled the basket seated behind her back.
Persika loved mushrooms. Tiny ones, huge ones, delicate ones, solid ones, laced, ribbed, toothed, curved, colored, camouflaged, tasty, or poisonous, it didn't matter to her. Persika had traveled across large swatches of the known world, and she had never seen anything more graceful or beautiful than a fungal bloom. That meant she could think of few things better than to get both housing and food for nothing greater than spending a day digging through loamy earth to collect pin mushrooms.
What she didn't like was the people. Persika had started working on this mushroom farm a little over a month ago, and it hadn't taken more than a couple of days for her to want to destroy every single building on the property by a sudden mushroom overgrowth, driving every single resident away with the toxic spores they would release. The order of her god was the only thing that had stayed her hand, and led to a situation where Persika, one of the gods' Chosen, suffered abuse and threats at the hands of a common foreman.
Her god was Madach, the God of Mushrooms, and that made him the most wonderful god in the universe in Persika's eyes. But even she could understand that didn't make him the most powerful, and while she could stand toe to toe with the Chosen of any of the other Lower gods, that still left as many as 360 other Chosen out there who could wipe the ground with her in anything that even remotely resembled direct confrontation. Persika had been sent here to protect one of Madach's spores until it had time to sprout into one of the Core Mushrooms, and that protection was absolutely essential. The spores had been released directly by Madach, and were infused with his holy power. And godly power, even if it came from one of the Lower gods, was a valuable thing.
Madach's spore, in particular, was worth a great deal in comparison to holy artifacts created by the other Lower gods. The spore was imbued with a powerful force of life and growth that would allow the mushrooms in the surrounding area to bloom and grow through any potential damage that might try and halt their spread. Madach was only able to gather that much life force once every century, and there were many, many other uses for so much raw power. Uses many Chosen would consider far more important than helping Mushrooms grow. Ultimately, only the Chosen of the Original gods would have no interest in the spore.
For the first five years of its growth, even Persika herself wouldn't have been able to find the spore, it was buried so deep within the earth. But now, as it grew closer to sprouting, it had drawn close enough to the surface that even a plow might be able to strike it. It was Persika's job now to make sure that this particular field kept producing until the time that the spore sprouted, so that the farm owners would not feel any need to turn it over for a new crop. However, if rumors spread that the Chosen of the God of Mushrooms was working on a farm, an equal number of questions would be raised as to why. The first and most obvious answer would be that her God had sent her there to protect something important.
And if that information were to spread, there was no way Persika would be able to protect Madach's spore.
That, and only that, was the reason she endured the humiliation that was cast down upon her. And for that reason only she would silently endure, until such a time as the spore sprouted, and the mushroom forest began to grow around the new Core. However, as life had often shown the young, dirty girl, things didn't always go according to plan. As a matter of fact, change often came when things seemed the most certain.
Change, in this instance, came in the form of a small, golden colored mushroom that sprouted from the ground a few moments after the foreman turned away. It nudged gently at Persika's finger as it grew, and she immediately moved her hand aside, casting eyes glowing with adoration upon the rapidly expanding sprout. As the stem stretched up further, the cap began to grow as well. By rather than being round or fluted like most mushrooms, the cap of this particular mushroom looked like nothing so much as a rolled up, golden scroll of parchment.
Only when the growth of the mushroom came to a complete halt did Persika move, reaching out one hand to pluck the mushroom from deep within the soil and bring it close to her face. Her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply.
For one moment she lingered in that position, eyelids fluttering as information rushed into her head. However, as the first message came to an end, her fingers unconsciously opened in surprise, allowing the mushroom to fall to the ground.
"Leave?" the girl gasped in surprise. "But the spore! It's less than two weeks away from sprouting. How can I possibly leave now? What could be more important?"
As though in answer, Persika swayed slightly on the spot, her fingers and lips twitching compulsively. However, when her eyes opened again, there was a look of resignation in Persika's gaze. "Talia. I understand. I'll go find her. Where is she?"
In the end, it didn't matter that Persika wanted nothing more than to watch the Core Mushroom bloom, and see the forest that would sprout around it in only days. All that mattered was that she had been Chosen by Madach, and the god had a task for her. A task he considered far more important than protecting a spore that had taken him a hundred years to create. How could she not obey his will?
However, when the next burst of communication faded, her look of resigned acceptance had been replaced by shock. "There?! But it'll take me over a month to get there with my foot, at an absolute minimum." In fact, to get there in a month, Persika would need to give herself barely any time to rest and eat. It certainly wouldn't give her any time to stop and care for a group of wild morels, or watch a penny bun sprout in the morning light. The thought made her heart lurch, and a short gasp slipped from between tightly pressed lips. She swallowed once, before shaking her head slightly.
It would be fine. She'd be able to find an hour or two, she was sure. She could eat while she was walking, and if she cut into her sleep just a bit more…
Persika's hand shook once more as a final communication came through.
No delays.
"I… I understand." It sounded like the most painful thing she had ever said. "If I can give up that resting time, I should use it to travel. Even a minute faster will make a difference."
For one moment, Perskia felt like crying. Not only was she expected to give up on Madach's spore and let it be found or killed, sacrificing the glorious mushroom forest that would grow around it, the next month she might as well be in hell. She would be nothing better than a zombie, in a forced march across the country, unable to take even a couple of minutes for her own well-being, driven on by the knowledge that every second counted. However, the lump in her throat dissolved under the sudden flavor of distraction, as she saw the ground between her hands suddenly bulging upwards. She cleared the soil aside, only to see something round and white about the size of a quail's egg. Except, as she picked it up, Persika realized that instead of the smooth, hard shell of an egg, the thing was ever so slightly spongy, and covered in the loose weave of a mushroom's mycelium.
"The spore," she whispered, hand tightening compulsively as she drew it closer to her heart.
This time tears really did cloud her eyes, but they were not tears of sadness. Instead, they came from a deep, heartfelt sense of gratitude, and the knowledge that Madach really did care about her. He cared about her more than a hundred years of his own effort. The spore pulsed in her hand for a moment like a heartbeat, before some of the mycelium unwound from around the spore, reaching up to curl around her neck and reattach to the spore. With careful fingers, Persika tucked the spore under the collar of her shirt.
For one moment Persika dug her fingers and the toes of her good foot into the soil that she'd been working in for the last month, saying goodbye to the nice soil, and the mushrooms that had yet to bloom. And then she tensed, forcing her way to her feet. She staggered for a moment before she was able to balance on her club foot. Then she took a step forward.
It was about at this moment that the foreman caught sight of her movement, and he turned around immediately. This time his hand didn't just drop towards his whip, but instead he removed the tool fully from his waist. However, before he had a chance to take even another step he staggered, gagging. He opened his mouth, attempting to gasp, and a mushroom grew from within his mouth. He only lasted another couple seconds before he collapsed fully to the ground.
Persika didn't even pause to glance at him. Becoming a mushroom bed was a better fate than he deserved, but she was pressed for time and wouldn't have a chance to find someone worthy of the honor. His body would the the one to deliver her mushrooms to this city. It would be nothing compared to the forest that would have grown had the seed sprouted, but a taste of the energy from the spore that hung around her neck ensured that it would still be enough to pay back Persika's wrath.
Already other mushrooms were sprouting from the foreman's body. Within the hour, they would cover her entire field. These people would learn the consequences of offending a Chosen.
Such a shame she wouldn't be here to admire the result.
However, when she paused briefly to lift up loam-covered fingers to scratch among her matted dreads, she froze only a moment later as she made eye contact with the glowering foreman standing on the path that separated her current field from her neighbor's. The man's hand dropped ominously towards the whip strapped to his waist, and Persika immediately lowered both head and fingers, returning to rooting through the rich soil to find the pebble sized blue mushrooms that half-filled the basket seated behind her back.
Persika loved mushrooms. Tiny ones, huge ones, delicate ones, solid ones, laced, ribbed, toothed, curved, colored, camouflaged, tasty, or poisonous, it didn't matter to her. Persika had traveled across large swatches of the known world, and she had never seen anything more graceful or beautiful than a fungal bloom. That meant she could think of few things better than to get both housing and food for nothing greater than spending a day digging through loamy earth to collect pin mushrooms.
What she didn't like was the people. Persika had started working on this mushroom farm a little over a month ago, and it hadn't taken more than a couple of days for her to want to destroy every single building on the property by a sudden mushroom overgrowth, driving every single resident away with the toxic spores they would release. The order of her god was the only thing that had stayed her hand, and led to a situation where Persika, one of the gods' Chosen, suffered abuse and threats at the hands of a common foreman.
Her god was Madach, the God of Mushrooms, and that made him the most wonderful god in the universe in Persika's eyes. But even she could understand that didn't make him the most powerful, and while she could stand toe to toe with the Chosen of any of the other Lower gods, that still left as many as 360 other Chosen out there who could wipe the ground with her in anything that even remotely resembled direct confrontation. Persika had been sent here to protect one of Madach's spores until it had time to sprout into one of the Core Mushrooms, and that protection was absolutely essential. The spores had been released directly by Madach, and were infused with his holy power. And godly power, even if it came from one of the Lower gods, was a valuable thing.
Madach's spore, in particular, was worth a great deal in comparison to holy artifacts created by the other Lower gods. The spore was imbued with a powerful force of life and growth that would allow the mushrooms in the surrounding area to bloom and grow through any potential damage that might try and halt their spread. Madach was only able to gather that much life force once every century, and there were many, many other uses for so much raw power. Uses many Chosen would consider far more important than helping Mushrooms grow. Ultimately, only the Chosen of the Original gods would have no interest in the spore.
For the first five years of its growth, even Persika herself wouldn't have been able to find the spore, it was buried so deep within the earth. But now, as it grew closer to sprouting, it had drawn close enough to the surface that even a plow might be able to strike it. It was Persika's job now to make sure that this particular field kept producing until the time that the spore sprouted, so that the farm owners would not feel any need to turn it over for a new crop. However, if rumors spread that the Chosen of the God of Mushrooms was working on a farm, an equal number of questions would be raised as to why. The first and most obvious answer would be that her God had sent her there to protect something important.
And if that information were to spread, there was no way Persika would be able to protect Madach's spore.
That, and only that, was the reason she endured the humiliation that was cast down upon her. And for that reason only she would silently endure, until such a time as the spore sprouted, and the mushroom forest began to grow around the new Core. However, as life had often shown the young, dirty girl, things didn't always go according to plan. As a matter of fact, change often came when things seemed the most certain.
Change, in this instance, came in the form of a small, golden colored mushroom that sprouted from the ground a few moments after the foreman turned away. It nudged gently at Persika's finger as it grew, and she immediately moved her hand aside, casting eyes glowing with adoration upon the rapidly expanding sprout. As the stem stretched up further, the cap began to grow as well. By rather than being round or fluted like most mushrooms, the cap of this particular mushroom looked like nothing so much as a rolled up, golden scroll of parchment.
Only when the growth of the mushroom came to a complete halt did Persika move, reaching out one hand to pluck the mushroom from deep within the soil and bring it close to her face. Her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply.
For one moment she lingered in that position, eyelids fluttering as information rushed into her head. However, as the first message came to an end, her fingers unconsciously opened in surprise, allowing the mushroom to fall to the ground.
"Leave?" the girl gasped in surprise. "But the spore! It's less than two weeks away from sprouting. How can I possibly leave now? What could be more important?"
As though in answer, Persika swayed slightly on the spot, her fingers and lips twitching compulsively. However, when her eyes opened again, there was a look of resignation in Persika's gaze. "Talia. I understand. I'll go find her. Where is she?"
In the end, it didn't matter that Persika wanted nothing more than to watch the Core Mushroom bloom, and see the forest that would sprout around it in only days. All that mattered was that she had been Chosen by Madach, and the god had a task for her. A task he considered far more important than protecting a spore that had taken him a hundred years to create. How could she not obey his will?
However, when the next burst of communication faded, her look of resigned acceptance had been replaced by shock. "There?! But it'll take me over a month to get there with my foot, at an absolute minimum." In fact, to get there in a month, Persika would need to give herself barely any time to rest and eat. It certainly wouldn't give her any time to stop and care for a group of wild morels, or watch a penny bun sprout in the morning light. The thought made her heart lurch, and a short gasp slipped from between tightly pressed lips. She swallowed once, before shaking her head slightly.
It would be fine. She'd be able to find an hour or two, she was sure. She could eat while she was walking, and if she cut into her sleep just a bit more…
Persika's hand shook once more as a final communication came through.
No delays.
"I… I understand." It sounded like the most painful thing she had ever said. "If I can give up that resting time, I should use it to travel. Even a minute faster will make a difference."
For one moment, Perskia felt like crying. Not only was she expected to give up on Madach's spore and let it be found or killed, sacrificing the glorious mushroom forest that would grow around it, the next month she might as well be in hell. She would be nothing better than a zombie, in a forced march across the country, unable to take even a couple of minutes for her own well-being, driven on by the knowledge that every second counted. However, the lump in her throat dissolved under the sudden flavor of distraction, as she saw the ground between her hands suddenly bulging upwards. She cleared the soil aside, only to see something round and white about the size of a quail's egg. Except, as she picked it up, Persika realized that instead of the smooth, hard shell of an egg, the thing was ever so slightly spongy, and covered in the loose weave of a mushroom's mycelium.
"The spore," she whispered, hand tightening compulsively as she drew it closer to her heart.
This time tears really did cloud her eyes, but they were not tears of sadness. Instead, they came from a deep, heartfelt sense of gratitude, and the knowledge that Madach really did care about her. He cared about her more than a hundred years of his own effort. The spore pulsed in her hand for a moment like a heartbeat, before some of the mycelium unwound from around the spore, reaching up to curl around her neck and reattach to the spore. With careful fingers, Persika tucked the spore under the collar of her shirt.
For one moment Persika dug her fingers and the toes of her good foot into the soil that she'd been working in for the last month, saying goodbye to the nice soil, and the mushrooms that had yet to bloom. And then she tensed, forcing her way to her feet. She staggered for a moment before she was able to balance on her club foot. Then she took a step forward.
It was about at this moment that the foreman caught sight of her movement, and he turned around immediately. This time his hand didn't just drop towards his whip, but instead he removed the tool fully from his waist. However, before he had a chance to take even another step he staggered, gagging. He opened his mouth, attempting to gasp, and a mushroom grew from within his mouth. He only lasted another couple seconds before he collapsed fully to the ground.
Persika didn't even pause to glance at him. Becoming a mushroom bed was a better fate than he deserved, but she was pressed for time and wouldn't have a chance to find someone worthy of the honor. His body would the the one to deliver her mushrooms to this city. It would be nothing compared to the forest that would have grown had the seed sprouted, but a taste of the energy from the spore that hung around her neck ensured that it would still be enough to pay back Persika's wrath.
Already other mushrooms were sprouting from the foreman's body. Within the hour, they would cover her entire field. These people would learn the consequences of offending a Chosen.
Such a shame she wouldn't be here to admire the result.