Pantheon - Prometheus' Will (IC)

The imperious look on Sahm's face softened as he listened to Soleil meekly admit her fear of darkness. When she asked whether he would accompany her to her quarters, the dreamweaver, for once, found himself tongue-tied. "Well... good heavens, Soleil, there's nothing to be afraid of in the night. In fact, nothing could be sweeter than the cool blanket of darkness that envelops and protects us as we sleep. But if it would be a comfort to you... " Sahm's eyes narrowed as he thought of the nocturnal festivities and twisted dreamcrafting he would miss out on, by virtue of being on what amounted to babysitting duty for his sister of the sun. But at the same time, the compassion he felt for her--a new and odd feeling indeed--moved him to agree.

Sahm looked at the Terran Worldsphere one last time for the night. He imagined fondly the orcish and human devotees he would begin to accumulate, as the chosen prophets sang stories of his praise, when the sunrise woke them from their divinely-inspired dreaming. Something wicked flashed across his eyes as he began to plan how he could gradually mold his people in his image, lead them to give themselves over to moon-lit mysteries, pleasure and debauchery... Though the industrious followers of Mammon, with their devotion to hard work and responsibility, would be a problem in this endeavor. Sahm cursed the deal he made with Mammon under his breath.


With a luxuriant yawn accompanied by a flourish of wings, the boy's eyes turned down the passageway where Soleil had departed. He solemnly set off down the path, tentatively approaching the doorway to her chamber. He stepped in, and was flabbergasted by the radiance of her well-appointed room, decorated as it was with flowing fountains and elegant china, and painted in brilliant colors. "Rather bright in here, isn't it?" he said with a laugh. "I can't imagine how you could be afraid of the darkness here... My sleeping place is purposefully devoid of anything that reflects light at all," he mused. Sahm walked up to Soleil's bed, leaning casually against one of its elaborately-carved bedposts, and watched her closely from above. The girl continued to toss and turn, her eyes closed, but apparently not anywhere near succumbing to sleep. After a few moments, Sahm moved wordlessly, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. He felt Soleil tremble and shift ever so subtly towards him. Sahm wrapped an arm around the back of her head, a heavy black wing over the front of her body, and dozed off with the girl in his embrace.
 
Under the globe, another 'note' of divine origin appears - as well as several dropping into other rooms, each neatly rolled and sealed with Census' holy symbol. The note was neatly written, again - clearly legible. "Seems none of you have killed each other yet, which puts you in higher standing than the demigods of Osophy," it begins, talking about another world a few planes over. "You have also made some progress with the native inhabitants, and practiced a bit with your powers. You're clearly taking this into your own hands, so I really don't need to do much... and Prometheus would like to grant yo each slightly higher power." (Everyone's Worship goes up by 1)

"However, your next task will be a tough one for some of you. Your next task is to create a capital for your worship. With a center of worship for you, this can begin the process of the mortal races visiting, offering tribute. As you know, most of you were once mortal. Without Worship, you are no longer a god. If you are no longer a god, your mortality will be felt again, and you will die - cease to exist, for some of you born-godlings. Having a base of worship allows you to easier gather Worship from your favored creatures, or any creature that comes to show respect for you. You will quickly notice that you cannot simply make all of Terra a place for worship to come to you. While you might be loathe to have a place where you or your worshipers might come into contact with harm, or have a place where your influence is easily seen... the alternative is to not have a capital of worship, and thus be a few steps behind your fellows." The note is signed, "Census, God of Writing, Literature, and Explaining Things to Stupid Demigods."

 
Marie had fallen asleep at her work table, and awoke the next morning with a note stuck to her forehead.

well...at least Census was having fun.

She discorpreated the various boats she had been working on with a wave of her hand, turning them back into the raw materials in storage. Which was a perk to being a god now. Along with the being young again part, that was cool too.

She left her notes on shipbuilding in her workshop, and took the drill with her and her parrot out into the common room.

There was already a sort of capitol for her worship, she just needed to make it official...how to go about it...
 
The note had appeared before Shassa's eyes for her to read through before it crumpled itself up into nothing. Luckily for her sense of decorum it had happened just before she had entered the room of the one demi-god she truly felt she could trust. She calmly collected herself, coiling around in the air for a moment before gliding into the quarters of Ghraun.

"Greetings once again, cave-master." She greeted him and smiled, although the facial expression might come off as threatening to those less used to talking to dragons. "I am terribly sorry about the late hour and my sudden entry in what should be your personal quarters, but I'm afraid you must help with me something." Her tone was demanding, though her eyes were kind and her body curved and swayed gently in the air before him. She was asking his help in the only way her nature would allow her too.

"As you might know, my powers are not well suited for creation, and a capitol for dragon-kind is not an easy task for me to accomplish." Her movements became slightly more erratic, agitated it seemed as she lowered her head towards his. "I require your help in the creation of a place high up in the mountains, where liquid stone flows freely so as to give my dragons warm winds to soar on. I require also two natural rock formations bearing the likings of me and my brother, and lots of spacious nesting places for those dragons that choose to hoard near the center of my power."

Shassa circled about the smaller demi-god, less seductively as she had before and more pleading. "If you can help me in this friend, I shall be more than benevolent, I...my brother, can help with the molten rock..."

Looking at him intently she hung in front of him again awaiting his answer...
 
Having done his business with all those that interested him, and finding no one else that wanted or needed his attention, he decided to go to his quarters to relax and find out what to do next. Stepping into his room, one could tell easily that it was his. Every inch of the wall was lavishly furnished, from the fluffy floors to the fine silk draperies, to the rare wood desk in the corner. Every available shelf space was filled with some sort of rare or valuable item, and the whole of the room flaunted a wealth that could only be owned by a god. Or at least a demi-god, for that's who it belonged to. Sitting in a plush velvet chair, he sighed as his body sank into the fabric, his muscles relaxing for the first time that day.

After taking a brief respite, he felt something odd about him. It took him a while to put his finger on it, but he soon realized that it was worshipers. These weren't the ones whom he had placed among Ghraum's followers, no these were different. He soon traced it back to a group of orcs that were not only worshipping him, but Sahm as well. Mammon smiled, Sahm had done his job well. He made a mental note that Sahm was a man of his word and that was always good when making deals with a person.

It was at that time that a note was born from the air, falling gracefully straight into his outstretched hands. Reading it, he soon found that it was Census who had sent it, asking each of them to create a capital city for their center of worship. Mammon pondered this, coming to the conclusion that, while it put a good majority of your followers in one place, thereby placing them in potential danger, it was also a good show of power as well. While Mammon had followers from the orcs, what he invisioned was a capital city that didn't judge by race, but by their trade. He looked at a map of their world that Mammon had on his wall. He gazed at it carefully, soon finding a crossroads between many great cities, the ground worn thin by the travelers who used them to get to one city to another.

Walking out, he went to the world map that showed real time events and found the same spot. As of yet it was clear of any civilization, though many walked through it. Mammon smiled, this is exactly what he wanted and needed. Tracing the area with his finger, a golden circle appeared on the map, invisible to the mortals. He had marked that area for himself, reserving it so that no other god could, and soon disappeared into the map, doing a little work among the mortals to achieve his task.
 
Soleil awoke to Sahm's form laying next to hers. She beamed a warm smile to him and scooted out from underneath his dark wing, leaving him to sleep. As she stepped out into the early daybreak of the godly day she smiled, the sun being a welcoming sight to her. It was her usual time to awaken right at the crack of dawn.

She instantly skipped over to the world sphere to look at what her beloved halflings were doing. It appeared that they had sailed out in their kayaks and canoes to find a small archipelago filled with various brightly colored coral rings and began building a city with it. By the time Soleil had found them their temple had already been completed as well as most of their homes. The brightly colored coral reminded Soleil of the rainbows she enjoyed creating so much. As she watched them work a note appeared in her hand. She gave it a quick read and smiled, creating a golden ring out into the ocean around the islands protecting them as her own and claiming her capital, leaving the name up to her halflings to call as they please.
 
The gnomes, had changed. Gone were their human-like ears. Under Frustor's influence they had developed fox-like replacements covered in short white fur. Their hair too had gone white, and they had developed short canine teeth. They had, under the guidance of their fox pelt wearing shaman had gathered in a forest at the base of a range of tall mountains.

Their demigod watched as they began building their city. The motif of the white fox prevalent in their temple and their totem. They began the quarry the mountainside taking back the stone needed for their construction as their craftsmen began making ranged weapons for both defense and hunting. While elsewhere he had checked on the other races learning the characters of each.

He hadn't slept, never having been mortal he didn't need too much of it and he has in glace to greet Soleil.

"Good morning, I trust your night wasn't too uncomfortable?"
 
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Kokoro awoke to find her flowers wilted and her animals fled. Someone had been through here, but she had been overlooked. She contemplated crying, but bitter anger overwhelmed that and she fled from the tunnels, droplets of silver clinging to her eyelashes from frustration. She was bitter and upset, and angry at the others. It was only moments later that she noticed a note pinned to her sleeve. She read it while she moved, her chaotic pace slowing so that she could understand what it requested.

The animals were her first thought, but they could not worship her. Their innocence, however, that was all she desired to rule over. She did not desire to try and lead a people of conquest. If she could not rule over animals, she saw little point in continuing. The tunnel began to slope upwards and soon Kokoro stepped out into the blinding radiance of the sun as it shone on the fragile planet. "What if I don't care to be worshipped?" she asked herself, more in jeer than seriousness.

The scent of earth pervaded Kokoro's nostrils, dampening the smell of other things as she emerged onto the grass. Kokoro was mezmerised by the beauty of the land she had found herself standing upon. The tender stalks of grass at her feet were delicate and pale green, glittering in the light with dew. Wafts of a spring flower whirled around her and cleansed the earth from her nose. Trees surrounded her on all sides except forwards where a small clearing stretched out and Kokoro could faintly hear the sounds of ... was it laughter?

Kokoro crept closer to the sound, melodic like chimes to her ears and saw what appeared to be a gathering of children. None were above perhaps the age of eight and their round, babyish faces were an image of untroubled delight. Smiles and twinkling eyes captivated Kokoro and without thinking, she stepped before the children.

Instantly, and much to her disappointment, their faces instantly transformed to terror. "Do not be afraid" Kokoro murmured. Silken locks of fine gold trailed down the back of a young girl near her, perhaps only four years of age, and Kokoro reached out to stroke the tresses of windblown silk. "What are you?" she asked them, her eyes wide as she stared at their delicately tipped ears. The fear still on their faces indicated no answer forthcoming.

With a sigh, Kokoro, radiated a little love, drawing the children beneath her pure white cloak to embrace them all. The fright in their expression ebbed and a chorus sprung from their mouths, upturned in little smiles now. "We are Elben". Elben? They were fair and delicate, these children, and Kokoro loved them all almost instantly.

"Show me to where you live, my little Elben, and I can make your lives so much better, little children".
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Brynjar coalesced in the great, near-silent Hall, standing nearly face-to-surface with the great World Sphere. His armor appeared first, followed quickly by his body, and then both aged, the armor gaining scars and dents, and its surface becoming rough. His skin likewise grew scarred, and his hair became so shot through with grey that it wasn't really brown anymore.

Opening and reading Census' note, he reflected that he was at somewhat of a disadvantage - as a relative newcomer, he had yet to sow his own influence. Resolving to make up this deficit, he scanned the surface of the World Sphere, quickly finding what he was looking for. A red glow slowly emerged from the surface of the sphere, centered around the confluence of two powerful rivers, located in a coastal foothils, and then dissipated. This would be the place to which he would lead his chosen, so they could build a fortress-city.

His site chosen, Brynjar opened his senses to the minds of the Mortals. He found himself stretched thin, for this only barely touched on his sphere of influence and there were rather a lot of mortals, but then, that was perfectly fine for this task. As he stood and listened to the relative silence of millions of mortal thoughts, one came to him clearly. A warrior's silent plea for help, from anyone listening, against overwhelming odds.

Focusing his will on the mortal, he found a small group of bull-headed men defending their village - little more than an encampment, really - against a much larger band of humans. Touching the defenders, he lent them the benefit of a hardened survivor's instincts, blunting the humans' advantage and allowing the bull-men to triumph.

When the battle was over, he spoke directly into the mind of the bull-men's leader.

Gather your people. Travel south to until you reach a river, and then west along it. Build a fortress-city for your defense and in my honor, and you will be My chosen people. You will know the proper place when you arrive.

Brynjar withdrew his will from the mortals, noticing as he did that the leader's hair had become streaked with grey.

Back in the Hall, he nodded solemnly and took a step back from the World Sphere, then executed a slow turn, taking in his surroundings. As he turned, he idly noted a featureless section of wall seamlessly morph into a downward staircase that he somehow knew lead to a barracks and mess hall - albeit empty of life.

A moment's observations of his fellow deities - those in the Hall, at any rate - yielded very little information on them, so he elected to remain silent and wait for one of them to approach him.
 
Marie already had a unofficial capitol, of sorts. But she needed to make it official. So she set to work on the city she had already visited, where it's craftsmen were busy at work racing to perfect bronze metalworking.

She met with some people in town, introduced herself, and got weird looks. It took some convincing, and the help of those metalworkers she had visited earlier, to get the town's elders to even listen to her.

Marie offered a fairly nice deal, with some basic rules outlined in exchange for helping the people's prosperity along; a sort of republic, led by the most capable of people, a focus on researching and developing new things, and a general goal of making a crazy advanced society. Worship in the town would be focused primarily on her, with Marie aiding in the construction of a temple if the proposal was approved.

As a sort of "down payment" she gave them some of the ship-building knowledge she had discovered, so that they might fish better to supplant their farms.