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World Creation Superdraft 2: July 2018


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45 minutes ago, Sociotard said:

Ah. It isn't an interference pick, so if it does bother you, I will just change her to a normal immortal spider.

 

An undead bothers me less than an immortal, actually. Something undead has in fact experienced a death and (sort of) rebirth.

 

Lucius Alexander

 

Reincarnating a palindromedary

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I was pretty careful in trying to wedge in my concept of the Underworld carefully with as little encroachment on others' turf as possible, and implicitly building in others' capacity to intervene there.  Coming as late in the game as it did, though, I may not have been successful.

 

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As one day a Seraphim ('Seraphim' being both the singular and the plural, as the concept of individuality is not so easily resolved among them as among other Peoples) journeyed in a far and hidden wood, he noticed a solitary tree beside a long-disused road. The tree looked unwell, as if pain and sadness flowed through it instead of sap. Curious, the Seraphim spoke to it.

 

"Tree, why look you so forlorn and forsaken?"

 

"Child of Light," the tree replied, "my roots are consumed and my boughs are weighed down by the gravity of the things that I have seen."

 

"What have you seen, O Child of Ut-Mark?"

 

"I have seen banners and standards born aloft in the name of death and conquest. I have seen the eyes of men that have spilled rivers of blood. I have seen the Army that would destroy the Mortal world and defy the Gods."

 

And, unbidden by the Seraphim, the Tree told the tale of how it had seen the Favoured of Aerobell fight and be defeated by the Forgotten Warrior. It spoke of the terrible wrath and judgment of Amora. It spoke of the shattering of the Forgotten Warrior's army, of the flight from its place of all those who had gathered there. 

 

And in the midst of its telling, the Tree spoke the Forgotten Warrior's name.

 

The Seraphim recoiled at the Forbidden Name. He called immediately to Yshic for guidance and relief from his terrible burden. Yshic heard his call...as did one Other.

 

Dee-Eli arose in that place in his righteous fury. You have uttered the Unspeakable Name, he said to the Tree. How do you know that Name?

 

"The Name was spoken when the Amora's judgment was rendered," the Tree relied, quivering. "I was here."

 

Impossible, Dee-Eli retorted. The memory or that Name was extinguished from the World. I saw to it myself.

 

"I remember," cried the Tree. It could do little else.

 

Worse than that, you have revealed the name to another. Dee-Eli was fearsome in his wrath. For this, I should burn your bark for potash, weave your branches into cunning huts, and bury your trunk so deep that even the T'Skha'Morch could never find it.

 

"Friend Dee-Eli," spoke Yshic gently, "forbear your vengeance for a moment. I would speak to thee, one God to another."

 

Speak briefly, then, Dee-Eli said, withdrawing with Yshic to a place beyond the hearing of both Tree and Seraphim. 

 

"This Tree has committed no sin against you," Yshic stated boldly. "Trees stand as witnesses in the world. That this Tree saw the events of that lamentable day long ago is not of its choosing. That it remembers what happened is simply its nature. I implore you not to destroy this tree for being no more nor less than what it is."

 

It spoke the Name, Dee-Eli reminded her. 

 

"It did, and now there are two besides the Gods who know it. This is not bad, I think. It is, perhaps, a good thing that this memory is refreshed from time to time, that the Name be not lost completely and the errors tied to it be not repeated."

 

Dee-Eli contemplated her words. There is wisdom in what you say, he grudgingly admitted. But the Name itself cannot be allowed to spread beyond these two.

 

"Agreed," Yshic said. "If these two will swear an oath never to repeat the name, will your justice be appeased? Will you allow them to live?"

 

I will, Dee-Eli conceded.

 

With that, they returned to the Tree and the Seraphim. Dee-Eli spoke, somewhat less harshly than before.

 

Child of Light, stand forth.  The Seraphim did so.

 

You have heard the Name of the Forgotten Warrior. For that alone, I will not avenge myself upon you. But know you that I know all secrets, including the secret of your supernatural existence. So swear to me now, by the Light of Yshic, that you will never speak the Name, not even to yourself.

 

"I so swear," confirmed the Seraphim.

 

It is sufficient, Dee-Eli stated. He then added, Know that if you ever break this vow, I will annihilate you, and your rebirth will wait for longer than the life of this world.

 

And with that, he turned his attention to the Tree. Look on me, Child of the Forest. The Tree obeyed, because it could not do otherwise.

 

Swear to me that you will never again reveal the Name, lest the punishments I spoke of earlier come upon you in an instant.

 

"I so swear," cried the tree, a glimmer of hope in its voice.

 

Be not so hopeful, for there is a price for my forbearance. Yshic tells me that it is your nature to know, to remember, and to reveal. Therefore, for having revealed the Name when I forbade it, I curse you to do so until the end of the World. In this place you will stay, servant to all who seek you out. You will reveal the true answers to their questions--the whole truth, the truth that causes regret and agony and recrimination. You will tell them everything, without exception or omission. Your punishment will be to see the pain the truth brings them.

 

"Have mercy upon me, O Master of Secrets! Your punishment is more than I can bear!"

 

"Then I will temper it," Yshic declared. "This place will be hidden. Though the whole World may seek your Truth, perhaps one traveler in a generation will find you. To those who do, you will fulfill your office as Dee-Eli has declared. In the times between, you may find rest from your burden."

 

Yshic turned to face her opposite. "Is this acceptable to you, my lord?"

 

It is acceptable, Dee-Eli declared. In this thing, we are now united.

 

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Guardian: The Tree of Knowledge

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I have one pick left I think. I need a geographic location of importance.

 

 regular oceans have currents that are caused by wind, the pull of the moon, and so forth.

 

Roy has created a network of super currents for his followers and any surface dweller who might find them. These supercurrents act as a network of transportation to push anything almost instantly to the end of the line.

 

Essentially they are Stargate networks in the water that can be used by anybody who can dip into them.

CES 

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59 minutes ago, L. Marcus said:

Yah, no, I'd be fine with that, though that'd be the first hangover I would've experienced. I just can't come up with an Interference for another drafter, and I'd hate to use it to block others from Interfering with me.

 

Well, you could interfere with .oh I don't know, volcanoes and earth quakes ;)

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One day, as we walked, we encountered a tribe of nomads who had the upper body of humans, but the lower bodies of horses.  They were wild, and loud, waving their bows and whooping at us.  Always galloping, they ran circles around us, shouting and singing all along.
 
I thought they were disrespecting Vyago, and I tried to chase them off, but they were far too fast for me, and treated my efforts as a game, which was deeply humiliating.
 
"Why do you chase them?" Vyago asked, as I returned to his side.
 
"Master, they are being disrespectful!  It is one thing to not worship a god, but should they not at least be polite?"
 
Vyago shrugged.  "All children disrespect their parents at some point.  Yet though they shout and wave, still they do me honor with their strong legs and swift speed.  They build no walls and plant no crops, but live their lives in motion.  This is why they were made."
 
Eventually they galloped away over the hills as the sun set, and silence settled over the land once again.
 
--the Forgotten History of Vyago the Nomad
 
Sentient Life: The Centaurs
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One morning, after dawn had broken on the mountainside where we had camped, Vyago made no move to leave.  Instead he sat, gazing out over the landscape.  For the God of the Way, this was very unusual.
 
"Master," I asked after a time, "why have we not broken camp?  Are you not well?  Should we not continue our journey?"
 
"We are," he replied, gesturing out at the horizon.
 
I looked again, and realized that, though we were perched on a mountainside, the lands below were moving past us at a slow but inexorable pace.
 
"How can this be, Master?" I asked, confused and not entirely unafraid.
 
"We have found one of the Vorrn," he replied.  "Throughout the world I have gifted the land itself with motion.  Plains, hills, mountains such as this one, journeying slowly but inexorably across the land."
 
"But... why?"  There were times when I questioned Vyago's sanity.  This was one of those times.
 
"To prevent stasis.  The Vorrn are slow, but cannot be stopped.  They seek out stagnation and immobility in the world, and... nudge it."
 
We watched for a year as the Vorrn carved a great valley where before there had been only tundra and bogs.
 
One day, Vyago abruptly began walking again.
 
--the Forgotten History of Vyago the Passenger
 
Mythic Monster or Guardians: The Vorrn
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blogging-is-storytelling.JPG

 

"Master", I asked, "if everyone's journey is their own, and their discoveries are theirs alone, then is not every path a lonely one?  Though our paths cross those of many others, are they not ultimately expressions of solitude?"
 
"A keen observation," Vyago replied.  "Solitude comes as an inevitable consequence of freedom and independence.  Yet I have given the peoples a way to share their paths and discoveries, so that each may carry another's path with them on their travels.  Now listen."
 
--from the Forgotten History of Vyago the Storyteller
 
Gift to Civilization: Tales
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