>>43979509
We still need to paste all the stuff from the last thread somewhere.
Also damn we have been going for days, we could stop for a morning, don't you think? The relationship chart is still not uptadated, what is the meaning of going forward if we leave behind most of the stuff?
And anyway, while I don't frown on anyone's fetish, let's do the important stuff before the futa goddess smut, ok?

>>43979653
Heh. I only mentioned it in an aside, though a clever person might wonder how the goddess Beryl sired a daughter on her priestess Avariel.

Anyway, I wanted to keep the thread alive. I'm writin' some stuff about The Wretch.

>> 43947397

Here is the previous one. I'd better throw it on sup/tg/.
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/43947397/
Done.

File: The Pantheon Version Proper 05.png (3.18 MB, 2800x2500)

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>>43979653
You called?
Pantheon Proper vol 5!

>>43979767
>>43979509
I completely agree with Ura-Anon. Fetishes are fine (and weird shit is kinda expected in god-pantheons) but leave it out of this.
Also some of your creations are a bit passive - after their story (some which go against the nature of other gods) they just exist - which is something that this kind of Pantheon does not need. I moved the angels to the side because they really havent done much and space really was needed.
Tiranel herself is fine, shes quite active.

>>43979653
Ura has many many children, that monster of the sea.
:P

Now, to go forward, we cannot lock Gods only to their creators. Therefore, we all should be allowed to write about everyone, like in the first thread.
Consider all our writings about the Pantheon as stories - something might have changed during many layers of retellings,
Mortal might not understand all, and such. Then other Anons can adapt them or try to fix them or propose additions or removals etc.

>>43979807
I should know about fetishes, with Ura being the most greek-y goddess around here.
Hell I have not depicted her being any clever or not petty, not even once. Greek gods are objectively top tier though.
Now I guess I will make a bunch of pastebins with yesterday's stories and stuff and link them here, wait for it.

Which paste contains the information about the demons?

>>43979807
So whats this about?
Saw these threads earlier but never visited.
Is this just for fun or is it for existing setting?
And pics like the laughing god are just moods or actuall gods?

>>43979967
Homebrew setting.
They are actual gods, read the pastebins :D
I think this contains most:
http://pastebin.com/vBiLPTda

>>43979979
Ok, so which system will you use for the homebrew?
Ok, than all just took pictures that stand for the gods.
Thx anon.

>>43979509

Pastebins of the most important pieces of lore in the last thread

Fate of the elves
http://pastebin.com/XJPWythr
The first humans
http://pastebin.com/ph30MMDZ
The book of deep truths
http://pastebin.com/Vur7rEKn
AoA: Monsters
http://pastebin.com/rxTgSntB
Races of Marik
http://pastebin.com/kX5sjkAB
TTJ 101
http://pastebin.com/UP5U0Qnx
Sandmen
http://pastebin.com/drfnacdJ
AoA: The Encyclopedia of Things That Will Kill You Eventually
http://pastebin.com/vbrS78ZT

>>43980029
No system for now, it is just a setting. Interesting to see what kind of pantheon (and stories) gets created.

>>43980031
Uops, last paste was messed up, have a revised version.
http://pastebin.com/HwmdxSQ9

So as of now, this is the complete collection of relevant pastebins.

Pantheon of Saladia
http://pastebin.com/vBiLPTda
specific deities split off from the pack to minimize main page's size:
http://pastebin.com/wYmgyTAxl
http://pastebin.com/6YW1XBZ2
http://pastebin.com/CRjdbn9z
http://pastebin.com/9DNmdiqx
http://pastebin.com/UaaU7ZNB
http://pastebin.com/vpHuqgzT
http://pastebin.com/rLEJSRFd
http://pastebin.com/UAQNCdHT
http://pastebin.com/hUW2rsT5
http://pastebin.com/CQTeME0h

Notable locations and scenery
http://pastebin.com/RjkNfL7k

Lore
http://pastebin.com/nYsJnWvq
http://pastebin.com/XJPWythr

Myths
http://pastebin.com/VjK2wnnW
http://pastebin.com/xibVL86S
http://pastebin.com/xHkYen8u
http://pastebin.com/fnjDCtKK
http://pastebin.com/UF60jpqh
http://pastebin.com/ph30MMDZ
http://pastebin.com/Vur7rEKn

Relics
http://pastebin.com/0SKUkkKz

Godly Domains
http://pastebin.com/2FAx4duV

History of Saladia (needs revising)
http://pastebin.com/ULMfiFgb

Chronicles of Xizamere
http://pastebin.com/2K9nsP3C

Monstrous Creatures and races
http://pastebin.com/50abex4L
http://pastebin.com/rxTgSntB
http://pastebin.com/drfnacdJ
http://pastebin.com/HwmdxSQ9
http://pastebin.com/kX5sjkAB

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> Last Act of the God Rebellion

It had been done. Sirach, the Would-Be-King, had been dragged away from the Heaven.
Even now, Gods heard how Adin and The Jailer were forging chains for him, as echoes of his
screams from the Black Gaol could be heard across the Great Cog,

Ynyr, the brave, the one who did not break his vows, had been buried with honour. Heaven
had been shattered, and most Gods had already departed.

Only one thing was left to do. Not many wanted to do this, but someone had to. Therefore only few
gods returned to the Throne-chamber of the overthrown king.
Pah Enki Ratos, walked in dazzled from all the fighting. Xumahreliel followed, always jiggling.
Last was Tron-Sol, who had not rested even once after all had started. Dragging himself in, he only walked by learning on his sword.
Tiskapal might have here, as they saw dusk moving around in otherworldly patterns. What was to come would certainly be Important.

There was a lonely figure weeping at footsteps of the crumbled throne.

The gods approached in respectful silence while tears washed the bloodstained stones.

"It is done. He is gone." she cried.
"Yes" Pah Enki Ratos growled.
"The Light from my existence is gone. I am now just a widow."
Other gods just stood in silence.
"Are you now satisfied? His plans were torn asunder as was everything else."
"It had to be done" Tron-Sol whispered.
"He will never be free, you ensured it. Can I join him in his prison?"
"We cannnot trUst yoU tooo nOt HelP hIm to escapee" Xumahreliel uttered.

Her sobs continued while the other gods turned to each other.

"What happens to her now? " Pah Enki Ratos asked.
"Without her we would not have succeeded." Tron-Sol noted with painful grunts.
"We cannot trust her. She needs to be contained now, while she is weak!" Pah Enki Ratos said, looking at the God of Imprisonment.

(cont.)

>>43980035
Oh, sorry, i mistook that.
I would describe what you meant with homebrew as worldbuilding.
Now i got you.

I wonder if a /cw/ (creative writing) board would be a success.
There are many that only write things down. Many good ideas and fluff.
But while i write, its a important /tg/ part too.

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>>43980230
The Rest-

Xumahreliel, the God of Sadomasochism, pain and imprisonment, looked to the lonely figure.

"No. NoThing I coUld eVer do tO her would be worsE thAn whAt ShE has donE to HersElf."
He turned to leave, only to glance back at the doors.
"FoR nOW, heR PRISoN is the oNE iNsidE heR. THe RegrET is too powErful. I kNow tHis, I wAs oNce iN lOve as weLL. "

The remaining gods looked at the Widow, and for the first time, felt a slight sliver of shame in their hearts. They left without uttering futher word.

>>43980203
http://pastebin.com/wYmgyTAxl
Is a dead link, mate. It says "Has been removed!" Who did we lose?

Also, it occurs to me that Maxira might be in some way connected to Arimue.

>>43980258
I wouldn't know, it wasn't one of my batch, Scribe anon made it so I have no idea. One of the most important gods, judging by its position.

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How about a handpuppet god?
Or is the pantheon besides low level characters closed?

>>43980304
If you create a god that is good concept, fills a slot that is not yet occupied and has meaningful connections to others, then sure you can create Gods.

Are jokes and snowflakes needed?

>>43980323
The god of jokes is literally the strongest as of now.

Snowflakes are ok if the are not shit, shame that 95% of them are since writing a good snowflakes requires actual writing skills.

>>43980304
Banjo is always welcome, High Priest AnonElan. Clearly, he's a Godly-tier aspect of TLG.

Write it up, and write it up well, anon.

Anyway I think I'll leave some more work for the poor RelChartAnon and leave for a while.

Given her usual contempt for pretty much everything that isn't herself or her beloved Nimhe, Ura scorns the other gods and usually refuses to meet with them. Even during the fall of Sirach she stayed behind the scenes, waiting for the right moment to strike- although, mostly thanks to Marik, it never came. When Ura has absolute need of relaying her thoughts to another god or even more rarely, a mortal, it is usually one of her favorite daughters that acts as intermediary. Those three beings are known by many different names, bu they are commonly referred as Urania, Ktasa and Epitimia. Each one of them hates her sisters, constantly trying to outdo them and conquer their mother's favor.
Epitimia is said to be the oldest, looking like an elf maiden with scaly, green and blue skin and a devilish smile. The most greedy of the trio, her father is rumored to be Marik; she embodies Ura's want, affected by never ending greed and lust, and ultimately she desires to be elevated to godlike status.
Ktasia, the middle one, is Nimhe's daughter and the most violent and aggressive. Ktasia spends the most time away from her mother, raging without rest against seafolks and coastline dwellers, and embodies Ura's cruel and uncaring nature. Her look is feral as well, displaying fins and sharp barbs jutting out of her skin and a mane of poisoned needles for hair. Ktasia hates Alina in the most passionate way, and dreams of nothing else than seeing the Lady of Mists utterly destroyed.
>cont

>>43980697
Urania, the youngest, is rumored to be Nimhe's daughter as well, though there is no way to be sure. Ura's favorite, Urania physically resembles her the most, but possesses a somewhat cooler, more calculating personality and is depicted as the clever daughter, acting as Ura's adviser as well. She seems to care for nothing else but staying at her mother's side, acting as her personal envoy and speaker in the most important matters, though the other two sisters often point her out as trying to outsmart Ura herself and seize her power.

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> The Wretch meats a Butcher.
Much to the consternation of some, there are people in the world and above it, both gods and mortals alike, over whom The True Judge holds no sway. Those who feel nothing for others, and so feel no guilt for their crimes.

So it was that one time, the Wretch came to one such man in the guise of a beggar; the man, a miserly butcher. The butcher allowed the Wretch to remain under his roof; not out of sympathy, nor out of charity, but out of adherence to custom, as the tradition of hospitality demanded.

The butcher, although a miser and sociopath, was well-versed and well-read on his lore. He allowed the Wretch to work for him him when he realized there was a good chance it was The Wretch himself. Unlike most, however, he did not put the Wretch to work as a domestic servant; he bade the Wretch to work in the shop.

At first, the Wretch was abominably awful at the work, of course, but all apprentices are. The Butcher capitalized on the stretch when The Wretch became astoundingly proficient without flaw, and used it to position his meats as "artisinal," or superior, and for a time, they were flawless cuts. Coin rolled in - and the Butcher forbade The Wretch from handling the money, only the work, so as to ensure that the Wretch didn't blow the finances. With the large influx of money, and the fact that the Wretch was not asked to do housework that would annoy the Butcher, but only shop-work that would only, at most, annoy customers ever-so-slightly, the Butcher felt no irritation at the Wretch's work.

File: S. Baldrick Cooking.jpg (41 KB, 640x471)

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>>43980773
It was never again perfect, but it was more than adequate. The Wretch did the work of ten well-trained assistant Butchers, and all he asked was room and board, instead of the pay of ten assistant Butchers. Before long, the Butcher had enough money to enter the world of business, which he kept strictly separate from the Wretch, keeping him working at the shop, where the Butcher felt safely indifferent to the Wretch's minor mistakes, as they only impacted other people, not him, and he cared not. After all, he was able to sell his goods more cheaply than anyone else, thanks to paying his worker literally beans, and so customers kept coming, even if there were always small flaws in their cuts.

After some years, the Butcher was a wealthy, wealthy man, who owned every butchery in a large city, its former owners now his employees, trained as apprentices by the Wretch and then sent to work in his other shops. Even so, the butchering was now the least part of his wealth, as his speculations in finance had grown to eclipse his meat industry. And he treated all of his workers with the same callous indifference he treated the Wretch; oh, he paid them more, for of course only the Wretch would tolerate being paid nothing, but he was able to pay them the bare minimum, since without his shops they wouldn't be able to enter the business for themselves, not without traveling far enough as to escape his influence.

At home, the Butcher, who was a young man still, for he had taken the Wretch in when he was but a callow youth, having inherited his father's shop only months before, wed and wed well for a man of his station, marrying the daughter of a minor nobleman who was heavily indebted to the Butcher's financial concerns.

>>43980785
It was a troubled union from the start, to say the least, for the nobleman's daughter was entirely uninterested in the Butcher, bur he was very interested in her. He found himself stymied, for he realized that he could not buy her affections, and his attempts at charm were met with cool indifference. Even appeals to her father's position and his needs for her to produce heirs (as his own baby-making equipment had suffered an unfortunate fate at the blades of an angry higher nobleman's official castrator some years before,) barely moved her to more than a noncommittal "later" response.

In truth, she sympathized with the Wretch, whom her husband treated with what can be best termed callous indifference. She was not attracted to him, but she was affectionately drawn to the poor creature, with whom she felt a sense of kinship. Of course, the Wretch's nature being that he must be a household servant, he had fallen back to catastrophic incompetence when the master had attempted to move him to a shop of his own supervised by a more loyal servant, and so the Butcher had taken the unorthodox step of making his home astride the divide between the more common areas, where butcheries might be found, and the noble areas; all the noble-facing areas were strictly walled off from the common-facing areas, save for one convoluted twisting path that involved a tunnel and a skybridge, but because they were technically one residence, the Wretch could function, and the miserly Butcher was unwilling to give up a steady, reliable source of income, especially as the Wretch's cuts had become known once again as the best in the city, largely owing to the fact that the Butcher's shops were the only shops in the city, and the Wretch, albeit flawed, was the only meatmonger in town who still took pride in his work, and actively wished to please his master.

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>>43980796
In all of this, however, entered a new, unpredictable element. Yserafel, the Ravaged, had wandered to this city, drawn by the miserable sobs and piteous prayers of a thousand individuals languishing under the yoke of usury, cursing the Butcher under their breath, wishing that the Avenging Angel would come and split their employer's head with her spear. This was not victimization as she knew it; righteously smiting a rapist or slaver was a simple, clear-cut matter; in her own view, if not in society's, for she could instantly know if a person was either. But wage-slavery was sending her mixed signals, and she had little understanding of the economics of business, as her own experience in the matter was generally limited to the simple function of "smite evildoer - claim their wealth." So she had wandered the city, hearing cries she knew not how to answer, drinking heavily and seeking solace in the arms of the downtrodden, in her grief for finding herself faced with a problem that her abilities as an Angel Warbringer and an adventuress did not prepare her adequately for, as she clumsily, hamfistedly attempted to investigate, to find some law or custom she could use to induce the mortals themselves to do something about the Butcher, for she was not yet certain of her own righteousness in simply smiting him.

Yserafel, of course, remained an angel, regardless of her rejection of her peers and former patron for her sullying. She could not bring herself to commit an unrighteous murder, and without her nature-granted certainty that the Butcher was rapist or a slaver, she needed to find hard evidence of a crime which was so brutal that she could justify smiting him - for this was how she could turn her spear against murderers, tyrants and marauders. Maddeningly, though a thousand people in the city damned his name, cursing the debts they accumulated, or the miserly wages he paid for the sweat of their brows, she could not conclusively declare he deserved death.

>>43980806
All the while, the Wretch worked, tirelessly, though sadly. He had been taken in, and his master treated him with casual indifference, which was far better than most of his masters. It was far more than he was used to, and for that he was grateful, but he also saw that everyone around him was unhappy, and this made him sad. He didn't understand why the household servants were unhappy with their miserly wages, for he received none at all and was grateful for a roof over his head and beans in his belly, but he saw their unhappiness and sympathized with them. He didn't understand why the lady of the manor was so upset, for she had no work to do at all, but he saw her brooding and sad, and sympathized with her, sending the best of his flawed cuts to the kitchens to be prepared for her. The Wretch could not be moved by abuse to himself, but he could be moved to that which caused pain to others, and the Butcher, although not overtly abusive, was causing pain to thousands, directly or indirectly.

And for once, the Wretch felt guilt, and conflict and shame for a job well done; for he had enabled it. Without his labor which had first enriched the Butcher, enabled him to become the juggernaut of finance and industry that he had become. However bad he felt about it, he was bound by his nature to serve loyally.

Eventually, Yserafel's investigations led her to taking a guise and post in the Butcher's own manor, so as to investigate more closely, and hope she could find evidence of some transgression that would see him placed in irons, at least, if not that would allow her to simply smite him. She struck up a friendship with the Wretch and the lady of the manor during this time, and she realized that the Butcher was truly an evil man, a man without anyone who would mourn him. Tempted as she was, though, she lacked a righteous cause to smite him, and could not bring herself to commit an unrighteous, if necessary, murder.

>>43980811
Yserafel recognized the Wretch, of course, and unbeknownst to her, he recognized her, but he didn't make this known. He was afraid that if she knew what he was, she might leave, and he hoped that she might somehow make things better. He also, for the first time in his existence, chose not to serve his master in full loyalty. He knew that the presence of Yserafel in the house probably meant she was looking for an excuse to smite him. He could have told the master, but as he was drowning in sorrow for the tears his master caused others to shed, for once, he chose to fight against his nature; to simply hold his tongue.

It was a fateful choice. Had the Butcher known who was in town, he wouldn't have decided, a few days later, to exercise his lawful right to force himself on his wife. Yserafel heard that, and had the righteous cause she needed, even though she felt sick inside that she hadn't been able to bring herself to smite him beforehand and prevent it. She could have simply assassinated him, but she felt that the Butcher deserved a far more public and righteous execution. Yserafel came for him at dawn, in her full splendor, wearing the full raiments of an Angelic Warbringer; robe as soft as cotton, sheer and clingy as silk, and as protective as Legendary Dwarven Adamantine Fullplate, wielding her pole-sword and garbed with a majestic, runed cloak, her head wreathed by a halo of broken platinum coins, joined together with purple.

None except the most unlearned or misinformed could fail to recognize Yserafel, The Fallen Avenger, in her true form. Unfortunately, the night previously, having heard the cries of the lady of the manor and knowing what had happened, guilt wracked the Wretch, and though he wanted to hold his tongue, he confessed that Yserafel had been snooping around earlier, and was certainly still in the area.

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>>43980817
The Butcher found himself in a proper bind, for of course Yserafel was not the type to offer quarter to rapists, and surrendering would only earn him a swift death, whilst fleeing would earn him only a delay at best. He realized he would need to defeat her to survive, and swore a fel oath that he would trade anything within his power to survive the oncoming wrath.

Unfortunately, something heard him; what, exactly, is unclear. Some scholars point the blame firmly at N'vylla, others at Al-Elat or Nimhe himself, others still lay the blame firmly at the feet of more obscure archdemons. Regardless, a voice spoke to him, in the quiet of his mind, and told him that his wish could be granted. Following its directions, he hired every mercenary, sellsword, crooked guardsman and other professional fighting man he could, bolstering the security at his home into that of a fortress overnight. He bound his wife in chains of hellishly expensive soulsteel, and, curiously, did not rail or rage at the Wretch in the slightest, merely telling him to prepare for the morrow. He himself flew through the manor in a frenzy, drawing invisible runes and marks everywhere, at the design of the voice in his head, in blood-red chalk that faded to naught after it was laid down.

Yserafel swooped low into the manor's courtyard, declaring her name and her intention to execute the lord of the manor for the high crime of rape, and an inexhaustible host of lesser offenses. Typically, mercenaries and sellswords will flee from an Angel Warbringer, as dead men spend no coin, but at that moment, a hundred least demons surged through the manor, possessing the hearts of the soldiers, each of whom was touching an inscribed rune, and they threw themselves at Yserafel. This took her genuinely by surprise, as she had fully expected them to throw down their arms and flee, and she was forced to fight them off, and then escalate to using her full force against them, as they fought with berserker fury.

>>43980829
It was not an easy fight, for the demonic power surging through the possessed men granted their blades the foul power to actually injure Yserafel, but an Angel Warbringer will not be more than superficially injured by a host of Least Demons, regardless of their number and reckless fury.

An angry mob had surrounded the manor, word having spread that the Ravaged had arrived and declared her intent to take the Butcher's head, barring the city's security from intervening, not that they would have, but unable to expediently force their way into the manor, secured as it was by high gates and stout bars of steel.

During all of this, the Wretch wept, and he worked, shivering, alone in the butcher shop abandoned by his apprentices. He hadn't been ordered to do anything out of the ordinary, and he tried to interpret that instruction as to work normally, but as the battle raged on, he knew he couldn't choose to abandon his master, however much he wished he could have.

When the last guard fell in the last corridor, he fell, as all before him had, onto a rune, which unseen began to glow. Yserafel pursued her quarry, smashing aside doors with her poleblade, until at last she came to the one door which stood between the Butcher and her wrath, guarded only by the Wretch, wearing a stained butcher's apron and wielding his cleaver. Tears streamed down his face, for he wished nothing more than to be able to throw down the cleaver and step aside, but it was not in his nature.

Yserafel asked him anyway, and he protested that he could not, no matter how he wished. He asked her to leave, but she would not, for the Butcher had brought this upon himself. The Wretch agreed, but he was unable to stand aside.

>>43980837
The two then fought, for they had no choice but to fight, their natures unable to compromise on the matter. Yserafel wished no harm to the Wretch, and fought to disable him; he wished no harm to Yserafel, but his nature forced him to fight with his all. Meanwhile, still following the instructions of the dark voice in his head, the Butcher once again defiled his sobbing wife, atop a glowing rune, as the fight raged outside, culminating in the moment when a blow from the butt of Yserafel's polesword flung The Wretch through the abused door, straining it past its breaking point, sending the Wretch flying into the room, shattered but alive, the cleaver having falling from his grasp, landing at the Butcher's side.

He pulled from the sobbing woman, still spurting, and rose with the cleaver in his hand, obedient to his only hope of survival. He never hesitated in attacking Yserafel, with uncommon accuracy and prowess, his every step and slash guided by the voice in his head. His blows failed to land, but spoiled Yserafel's strikes, forcing her to defend herself, even moreso when The Wretch recovered enough to pull a meathook from his waist and join the battle. He wept for Yserafel to kill his master so he could be freed from his service, but her concern for the Wretch's safety prolonged the battle, and she began to incur injuries. Eventually, however, the might of the Angel Warbringer was not to be overcome. She disarmed the Wretch, again, and though the Butcher fought with cleaver in one hand and meathook in the other, Yserafel struck a decisive blow, opening him from his left shoulder to his right hip.

Laughing, in shock and understanding, the Butcher fell backward, in orgasmic ecstasy, landing atop his abused, chained wife. As she prepared to deliver the coup de grace, aiming not to kill the wife in the process, the fallen husband and bound wife let out two of the worst screams ever uttered; the wife in pure agony and horror, the Butcher in brutal ecstasy.

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>>43980844
A blinding pillar of green flame erupted from the rune under them, consuming both of them in a flash, leaving nothing but the wife's blackened bones. Wretch and Yserafel stared in shock for a long few minutes, and then a terrible laugh was heard, echoing from the floor where the pair had been consumed. Yserafel looked to the Wretch, her grief-wrought eyes filled with fury, and demanded to know if he had warned the Butcher.

He had, of course, and cringing, admitted it. He asked if she was going to kill him, and she said she would not, but that next time he stood between her and justice, she would not be so merciful. Then the angel, injured but regenerating, turned and stalked off, shaking with guilt at having failed, and worse, having played right into the designs of some foul power; but also filled with renewed purpose, for she knew the Butcher still existed, somewhere, and she would find him, and she would END him, the second time.

And the Butcher himself is now a Major Demon, having sacrificed the souls of hundreds and the entirety of his mortal fortune, having ritualistically defiled a pure woman in defiance of the wrath of an Angelic Warbringer, and having fought with utter obedience and loyalty to the end and beyond. He stands as tall as two horses, a stout, squat-shaped red creature, with arms and legs as thick as tree trunks, a butcher's cleaver made out of athe spine of a great beast, and a terrible iron meathook as blades.

He is the patron demon of the guiltless, the objectively self-interested, who care for none save themselves. He is a demonic bargainer, bartering souls - never those of the contracting party, for he knows they will not offer them - and fortunes for advice or action, for demonic mercenaries and utterly heartless sellswords, and occasionally, for some kind of demonhood for the bargainer. Yserafel hunts him whenever word of his foul presence reaches her.

(Phew! That was a long one!)

>>43980852
This one's going to tie a few more knots into the old subway chart:

New Character & relationships:
> The Butcher
>> Conflict with Yserafel and the Wretch
>> Rumored Connections to N'vylla, Nimhe and Al-Elat.

Old Character Relationships:
> Yserafel
>> Conflict with The Wretch

>>43980883
This was great!
Lengthy text which ties characters together
Excellent!

Everyone agrees that Xizame Xix Zirel gifted Humankind writing.

Everyone does not know that Damlerion, The Last Phoenix, gifted them with Fire itself, in the misty dawn of Mankind during the Era of Rune.
Why? He did not tell nor he has been seen much since those days.

Authority here, time to add some more death into the world.

Encyclopedia of Things That Will Eventually Kill You

Chapter XIII: Records of the True Invasion

The following is an excerpt from a tome i found once my roof of grimoires collapsed during a winter night:

A hundred or so years had passed from N'vyllas rampage. Some countries were still licking their wounds, but the world was slowly healing. A few scars from the invasion still remained, but they were now just memories of times gone by. Humanity was sure they were now safe from invasions like this in the future, but remained vigilant. This was good, for only the gods would know what could've happened were we not prepared.

It first happened in a small encampment of bandits near the coast line. There was no warning, no flashy entrance or the gates of hell opening, but something just appeared. The outlaws had nary a moment to react when more creatures appeared and tore them apart. A sole survivor was able to travel to the north to the great capital of . Here he spoke to and warned her of the great threat. The bandit was executed for his crimes, but was given posthumous honors as the Saint of . More reports start springing about unknown creatures appearing out of nowhere and tearing people apart before retreating back into nothingness. Armies gathered in the north under the command of the Three Glorious Generals, , and , who was also the queen of . The army was unlike any other seen before it. There were people from , , , even the inhabitants of the Scar, and Kardash had joined the war effort. Champions of all the gods and godlings, heroes both old and new, fresh and retired were summoned. The mightiest army ever to be was now ready for whatever would come.

>cont.

>>43981693
Finally the creatures appeared. Their forms were many, each more grotesque and mind boggling than the last. Some towered over the trees and other were barely observable with bare eyes. They numbered in millions and covered the skies of________. _________ and _________ were ready to sound the retreat before the battle had even started, but__________ queen of__________ rallied the troops into a full frontal assault. Men and women were dying, the invaders' numbers were barely changing as more and more of them poured out of thin air. The city of________ was under siege, but none could return there to defend it without risking being overwhelmed from behind. The soldiers of_______were first to be defeated, followed by______,_______ and the mercenary companies. The invaders were winning and all seemed desperate. When the battle was nearly lost, it seemed that the gods finally saw fit to extend their hands in aid. Their champions roared with vigorous rage as they charged into the ranks of the invaders, cutting down any who stood in their way. Their targets were the three of the largest invaders who seemed to be their generals. Each of these giant monsters were tall as the walls surrounding __________ and their presence alone made men weep. Fierce combat ensued and the landscape took it's toll, but in the end the three invader generals were defeated. Two of them died and one of them retreated, taking the massive invader armies with him.

>cont.

>>43981796
People rejoiced, the battle was over and won. They had held for the gods to finally take notice of the ongoing invasion and their champions had stemmed the tide of invaders. ________,______ and __________ declared humanity victorious. They gave rousing speeches about invincibility of the gods and their mortal servants, about the courage and unbending nature of humanity. As they raised their hands to the skies to thank the divines, they were all flattened on the spot with the words "INSECTS SHOULD KNOW THEIR PLACE!!!!" bellowing across the battle field. Where once three proud leaders of the mightiest army ever stood, were now a puddle of gore and blood, some pieces of their armor and a hand print the size of a galleon. The snow on the winds seemed to hit something vaguely human shaped, giving the massive creature outlines if for a brief moment. But the creature was not some invisible force or a formless god. It wasn't even a thing. It didn't exist. None of those adept in these sort of things could feel any presence and even though several hundred men were caught in the hand print, none of them were anything more than startled by the ground suddenly giving away. The figure seemed to disappear as the snow suddenly flew again, as if what was blocking them had disappeared. When the army came to it, they began their long trek to their homes. But something was off to my eyes. The soldiers of_________,__________,________and__________ were not there. Their banners were gone and it seemed that the three generals who were flattened had also disappeared. I returned to the great library of_________ and along they way i noticed that the streets were empty, the decoration gone. Not a drop of blood was there and, as if the invaders had never set their foot in the city. Even the flags flying high on the great ______palace were away. It seemed that everything had been edged out of existence. The walls were smooth as ice, and statues were naught but blocks.

>cont.

>>43981925
It was then when i reached the great library of_______. But all the tomes were gone. The shelves were empty and the holy writings on the walls had been edged out like the rest. The Museum was also empty. It's portraits gone, ancient artifacts replaced with metal ingots. It was as if the entire existence of the might empire of_________ was gone. This troubled me, so i traveled to ________ to find out what had happened. But the city of_______was entirely gone. Only a crater remained. I feared the worst and traveled to__________ only to find the same. I already knew what had happened to________ and________ so i did not need to travel there. Gone. Written out of existence. Purged from reality. Something dawned on me then. The battle in the north was not to kill anybody or was it ever meant to be won by the invaders. It was a distraction. While the gods focused on the battle, the entity that appeared in the last minutes of our celebration had erased these cities from Existence. He had removed all that remained from the empire of.....of....I can't even remember it's name. It seems not only erasing them physically, the entity erased them from history too. Now that i look back at my old writings i noticed empty spaces where names used to be. And i fear that i too will


"And this is where the writings end. It seems the text speak of the Deamon Invasion of the early Era of Metal, but barely any records remain of that. More research will be done and recorded into the Encyclopedia of Things That Will Kill You Eventually II: History of War."

>>43982022
Well done, AoA. Going to paste it later.
But, what about the _____ parts?

>>43982256
They are names erased from the existence, as for as mortals are concerned. Leave them blank.

>>43982285
Translation: It's Mad Libs History. Fill in the blanks!

>>43982314
Exactly

>>43982285
>going to fill all of them with "cock"
Now imagine reading that.

>>43982379
The Laughing God
> Strikes Again!
>> Ha Ha Ha!

>>43982379
It was then when i reached the library of Cock

It was as if the entire existence of the mighty empire of Dicky-Licky was gone

But the city of Cunthrobble was entirely gone.

I feared the worst and traveled to Ur-Asshole only to find the same.

I already knew what had happened to Tickler Alley and Fahk-Mii so i did not travle there.

>>43982449
Sounds like a panel from Oglaf.

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>>43982449

>>43982449
>>43982572

Saladia approves.
The Era of Gropecunt Street was a weird one, when a movement of lingual revisionists attempted to rob "vulgar" words of their power by making them so common as to be accepted. It gained its name by a top-down mandate that the halls of power in every city must be immediately relocated to 10 Gropecunt Steet, a street which most cities had one of, which was usually the lane with most of the brothels.

Sadly, a full-scale demonic invasion wrecked everything, and the movement died before it achieved much lasting effect.

>>43982815
The Era itself lasted about 5 months only.

>>43982898
Turns out most of the blanks in the history of saladia were erased by those sages who wrote the history books themselves. Mostly because they thought "fuck, no one would believe this shit happened anyway"

Well time for me to perform my duties as a DM. Hope Ballan Sur andd the other anons don't let the thread die before I am back.

How would mortals worship these gods?
What kind of practices would they have?

>>43984347
Nimhe doesn't have worshippers or a church outside of mad or mysterious cults, but a great many cultures seek to appease him so plagues fall upon their enemies or so monsters leave them alone.

Such practices of such appeasement is something as extravagant setting up a net of pipes pumping sludge around the temple of a more respectable God, or as simple as smearing rotten meat along the outside walls of one's house.

>>43984347
TLG's direct worshipers, all 8 of them, ritualistically use fruits depending what they wish to gain from the primordial. Most common ritual is know as "The Womanizer" where male worshipers of TLG take a passion fruit, paint it pink and try to shove it up the ass of the woman they wish to bed. This generally gets them arrested, especially when one tried to stick a fruit up the abyss of the queen of a barbarian warlord.

>>43985282
To be fair, that last guy was saved by Steven the Fabulous, TLG sent him to protect that guy and help him get laid. It all worked out well in the end.

>>43979509
Hey guys, I'm back. So I have been thinking and decided to do a bit of a retcon on how TTJ works. Now, TTJ himself will remain mostly the same, but I have decided that making the scions also inactive is a bit pointless, so now, the scions are going to be much more active! What does this mean?

1. The scions are still a part of TTJ, but now they are somewhat more independent. They are more like angels now, although they are still not separate beings.

2. They all can in some way physically interact with the world. This one will vary from scion to scion, but no longer will they just be inside of people's heads, although many of them may still do that.

And finally...
3. Some of them may directly deal justice. Most of them will still work much more mysteriously, but now there will be ones that act much more like real judges or sheriffs. I am still trying to figure out how these will work, and they will still be rare and only get involved in extreme circumstances, but what counts as extreme will be much, much lower than for TTJ itself.

Some people have been making scions, which I am fine with, but can you guys hold off on making ones that act more direct (especially in category 3) until I can figure them out? This is just to make sure they remain consistent within the lore.

I also plan on revamping how the emotional end of things work, as I have been unclear on that, but for now just remember the emotions are the punishment. Now, this leads to the issue of truly bad things not feeling them, which I explained as resistance to the forces, but I am trying to find a better explanation. If you have any ideas, send help immediately!

>>43986142
What's the power level of scions?
Can they be beaten by mortals (especially PCs)
By what means they can be beaten?

In Saladia there is no higher power than The True Judge and his Scions. No one, not even the most hardened of criminals can withstand the weight of guilt when pressed by a Scion.

However, there is a minority amongst the races who commonly make a mockery of the Primordial's methods. These beings, sociopaths, psychopaths and others, unlike their kin, lack the capacity for empathy and compassion for others. When they learn, it's not so much through question's of why's or how's, it's what. What is there to gain? What ways can I use this to best my peers and betters?

This mindset continues for the rest of their growth as they learn to properly mimick the actions and customs of their race. Depending on the races' capability to detect outlier behaviors and their traditions, it can either punish or give these heartless folks positions of power and influence.

Demons are believed to feel a deep sense of kinship to people of this mindset, as their beliefs of personal desire above all else often coincide. This often leads to demonic partnerships with particularly ambitious men, as demons set their plans in these men's minds in exchange for influence in the physical realm.

Spirits and other dieties dislike being under the servitude of the heartless, as they know from millenia of experience that heroes and other gods will come to face these men. And it always means they have to fight to protect their masters, as the binding pact always declares. In many cases it causes a bitter rift between the ones of justice and loyalty as the two cannot by nature stand aside from their duties.

However for the remorseless, should they ever act in ways to spite the forces of goodness, and fail in their attempts of greater power, the punishments from Nadir and Bellan Sur are beyond anything of mortal comprehension.

>>43986223
Scions can't really be "beaten" under most circumstances. They cannot be killed, but as the people who are able to resist TTJ enough to require a scion to get involved often are very powerful, there are ways to avoid them. They are immune to all forms of physical damage, but someone with strong willpower or magic can, depending on the circumstances, resist a scion. It really depends on what the context of the situation is. Suffice it to say that a very powerful individual can defend himself against many of the scions, but there will always be a few that cannot be avoided.

I am actually working on one right now, one that I wanted to do for a few days but was unable to under the previous no-touching rule. The scion I am working on is the one who deals with mortals or demi-gods who are basically evil and trying to destroy the world/overthrow the gods/whatever. This scion is sort of like a mini version of TTJ, on a scale we cannot come close to but roughly on par with most of the gods. I am also working on a few that would be seen as champions or arbiters, but I want to get there later.

Suffice it to say that if you have managed to get the attention of a scion who wants to kill you, you either are really, really unlucky or have fucked up really bad, because the scions who do permanent damage only do it when shit is going down.

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>>43986356
Maybe, just maybe, we could make scions less powerfull (those who's job is to deal with mortals and demigods) so that a group of high-level PCs could take down one or two of them? I'm not saying that we should nerf TTJ, but we could nerf some of his scions, just for the sake of the gameplay. Just putting it out there.

>>43986350
This. 100%. In fact, most of the active scions exist to have to deal with these assholes.

>>43986460
I see what you mean, but I am not sure how much I should do that. The scions are not monsters, they do not just attack people, and while they do some fucked up things, and many of them may have use draconian justice, they still are supposed to be high up.

Considering how diverse I plan to make them, I would prefer to make that call on a case-to-case basis, but for now yes, some of them can be repelled. Just remember they are immortal and cannot be trapped/tricked or anything like that, so you cannot truly defeat one without destroying TTJ, but destroying TTJ would destroy the universe so in the long run, if you have done something so evil that some really strong ones are after you, you are fucked.

I wonder if a hierarchy of angels/angelic capabilities for Myrea's host of bolter bitches should be made? I've mentioned Angel Warbringers a few time, as in "this should be a BFD."

>>43986583
When I say high up, I mean they are still "good", just that good in this case is absolute, lawful good, so they are not attacking people who have done no major crimes, which on this scale would be mass murder or something similar.

>>43986617
I thought TTJ/his scions were Lawful Neutral?

IE, in the story of The Wretch Meats a Butcher, Yserafel finally gets the divine mandate she needed to go ahead and lay the smite down when the Butcher makes the mistake of committing marital rape - a capital offense to Yserafel, but not even illegal in the eyes of the law of the Butcher's home.

What he did was in accord with the laws on the books. Would one of TTJ's Scions tried to stand in her way had one of them been present?

>>43986617
It looks like that this much influence on the mortal realm is too much. What campaigns should players have, if everything is getting solved by scions (in term of BBEGs)?

>>43986683
Well, I meant good in that they will not conduct injustice, so yes, on a DnD scale they are as lawful neutral as they come. Sorry for that mixup.

On the example, TTJ does not give a shit about laws anyone else makes up. So it will not be ok with The Butcher, but it probably will not get directly involved unless the butcher doesn't feel any guilt and Yserafel fails, but she might be in trouble with him if she does something too far. When I said TTJ was 'good' I was thinking of how in circumstances where someone is trying to extract justice, some minor acts they commit in the process may be overlooked due to their own righteous intent, but if she does something really bad to a neutral party or something incredibly out of proportion to The Butcher (which would be very difficult) than she loses that protection.

>>43986796
Well, when I made the character, I was not thinking about this as a game, just coming up with the ideas. I am sort of trying to change things around, but if you want to run a campaign based on this, you can mess with the scions as much as you want.

If you want to stay faithful to the world and have BBEG's, don't worry, most of the time scions don't get involved, because usually they are so strong that the collateral damage can be extreme. So unless you want to run a story with a climax that wold be on such a scale that the whole world would be affected, and considering how active the other gods are at this point the scions are not the only thing getting in the way, you can just say "this time, for whatever reason, a scion did not get involved." besides, if the villain has any sort of emotions that are just being repressed, the scions involved are probably just mentally fucking with him, so hey, now your villain is mentally unstable!

I just realized, since the Butcher became a powerful demon thanks in part to the Wretch's service, that would mean that would be villains who also want daemonhood would want to seek him out as an unwilling henchman, assuming that they catch ear of the rumors. Fortunately that would mean the villains going out of their to find such an elusive man, time and money that could be spent in more gainful ventures.

>>43986897
Lets not mix DnD into this and keep Saladian Pantheon not locked to certain mechanics. But they are nice guidelines.

>>43986460
>>43986223
There could be different ranks of Scions?

>>43986604
Seems okay, but there is other things what more need details. Mordun the Mad and Steve the Fabulous for example, although >>43985638
this was fun addition. Sounds just like TLG and Steve :P

Did Myrea have other children? Leader of the Angel Hosts? Or did she just create them to serve her?

>>43986683
Yserafel seems like a "lone ranger" type, that she actually seeks out Bad dudes. Most of Gods and other forces seem bit more passive, only when Bad Stuff happens they come to the skene (Scions, Myrea and Nadir the Jailor in particular).
But it would be interesting to see different Good characters conflict over same goal due different viewpoints. Imagine Tron-Sol, Angel-Hosts, a Scion and Yserafel fighting about who gets the bad guy when Nadir the Jailer arrives to scene due to the mayhem the twos fighting has caused :D
(While TLG eats salad)

Geography of the Depths
AKA Maybe We Don't Really Need to Go Deeper

The Ichor Flows AKA Radioactive Elder God Blood

The heat in the subterranean parts of the world is sufficient to melt even stone, rivers of magma constantly coursing beneath the crust until they burst through the surface. When one of these molten rivers comes into contact with a deposit of starstone that has risen closer to the surface, however, it becomes something quite different.

The magma is transmuted into a substance that can only be described as liquid fire, absorbing the energy of the starstone mass as it is slowly dissolved into the magma flow over decades of erosion. This substance, dubbed Ichor by those who first encountered a geyser of it upon the surface, contains all the magical potency of starstones, but is considerably more volatile. The danger posed by its tendency to explode without warning, and the withering rays of poisonous energy it gives off, make it high impractical compared to actual starstones. Still, desperate and unethical mages will sometimes turn to experimenting with it in hopes of harnessing its potential. A few nations have also experimented with weaponizing Ichor or using it as a power source, though it has not yet yielded significant results.

>>43987505
The Feasting Hive AKA Conqueror Worm Cannibal Orgy

Not even a Conqueror Worm lives forever. When one of the Worms reaches the end of its life and senses that death is near, it burrows deep into the earth, stopping just before reaching the outer borders of the Labyrinth. There it falls into slumber, never again to wake. All Conqueror Worms make their nests here in the graveyard of their kind, crawling and tunneling amid the coiling, petrified husks. Here, in between their journeys to the surface to hunt and feed, the Worms twist together into a colossal mass of bodies, mating to produce countless Worm larvae. These larvae burrow deep into the corpses covering the ground, chewing holes through the desiccated shells and preying upon each other until they mature and seek more worthy prey on the surface.

---

The Bone Labyrinth AKA It's Getting Real Spooky In Here

Surrounding Nadir's Jail is a series of labyrinthine tunnels, massive in size and complexity. The walls of stone begin to take on a strange, porous appearance, almost like bone. This is appropriate, as the Labyrinth was formed from the spinal vertebrae of the Dragon God when the world was young. Here, far from the surface, the bones were left relatively untouched by the reshaping that bent those above into the shape of a new world.

Nadir's Jail, and the link between the material world and the realm of Ballan Sur, are located upon the very apex of the coiled spinal column. Here, too, are attached the great sinews binding the two planes together.

>>43987525
The Echoing Abyss AKA Holy Fuck It Just Keeps Getting Worse the Further Down You Go

Reach the very bottom of the Labyrinth, and you will find yourself entering a great cavern with what appear to be stars floating in the void around you. Great crags and bridges of stone stick out at impossible angles from the surrouding walls, hanging over the darkness down below. Fall down into that void, and you may well fall forever, for you stand within the cranium of Vryoka Mahva Thostra, Dragon God.

Here is where the whispers of Primordial Madness are strongest, for the skull is the seat of consciousness, and the Dragon God's dreams echo and reverberate upon the walls of the great cavern, over and over. The Reptilians make their civilization upon the cliffs and ledges within, each of which are gigantic enough to hold an entire city. Countless starstones litter the ceiling and sides, giving it an uncanny resemblance to the night sky of the surface world.

The Reptilians constantly experiment using means magical, technological and biological. It is inevitable that such experiments would eventually produces failures, whether in the form of creations that are too unstable and dangerous, or mutants too horribly deformed and degenerated even by the Reptilians' standards. These failures are cast down, off the edge of the cliffs and into the yawning void below. But some invariably survive the fall. And thus, the further down into the Abyss one delves, the more grotesque the monstrosities encountered. Killer golems, degenerated Reptilian freaks, and undead abominations constantly haunt the deepest reaches of the Abyss, but they are not the worst dangers among the failed experiments of the Reptilians. For the environmental hazards include such things as parasitic plagues that devour the mind, bubbling amalgamations of hungry liquefied flesh, and self-replicating acid.

>>43983848
Consider this Surs bump then.

Social obligations and work held me up until now. Bit tipsy so wont add much.

Is ong connected to the dreams of the Dragon god

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>>43987505
>>43987525
>>43987547
Impressive.. Ia Ia Vryoka Mahva Thostra :D

>>>>43989513
There has been some mentions about it, it makes sense. Also we have Korr, which is a bit conflicting with Dragon God. Might just replace Korr with The Dragon Father.

>>43989513
He's connected to the dreams of anything that dreams. If TLG's fruit dreamt he'd be connected to them

>>43989410
Not to mention, ill forgo my trip now that Sur is established.

Feel free to add to him or whatever, the basic entity is pretty defined by now.

--
The First Meeting of Ballan Sur and man

Jacobs Ne Haldworth was a low standing noble, His family lands were small, influence as much so, and the family buisness, such as it was, was in service to greater powers in the realm.

But Jacob was blessed. In a simple manner really, for he was the first man to ever cheat his death over twenty times. Though a series of blunders, luck, assasination attempts from far flung family members and other assorted sources, Jacob had grown from a babe inheriting his familys power into a young man, defying the fates time and again. Before he was even 4 years old he already bore the sign of blessing from Ballan Sur. A mark of respect for the tenacious of living from the god of death himself.

His early adulthood had quietened down since, each failed plot leaving evidence against the plotters, and each accident or calamity thwarted not cowing the man, but making him brave and decisive.

Such a man was to Ballan Sur's needs. For the brith of a necromancer god threatened everything he had worked to uphold since time near immemorial. While the god of necromancers was a sweet and near innocent girl that even he had to admit, necromancy would always be a sin in the eyes of the god of death. Silly mortals who heaped shit upon their own heads and proclaimed themselves somehow rightous, or justified, to do so. For every soul denied their path in the cycle, unnumerable interactions, events, Life as anyone can care to define it outside of living things, would cease not to be, or never be. How many people who would have been born who never got to love? to hate, to feel alive and scared. How many, who would never get to alter the lives of those around them, for better (usually) or for the worse? But even the worse caused adversary, a spice that is only too valuble in the paths of existance.

>>43989756
So Sur hatched a plan.

Though necromancers now stalked the earth, and liches would soon follow in the coming times, as rats to a bloated corpse, Sur had a plan.

He visited Sir Jacob Ne Holdworth on his estate, his humble abode.

And Death had tea with a mortal man.
With honey, for those interested.

What transpired there is still unknown, but from this simple meeting, Jacob became the first prophet of the church of Sur. A church founded on the values of the balance. On the ideal that life is to be cherished and preserved, yes, but must also accept the inevitable and pass on with dignity, so that those who may come afterwards have the time and unrecinded joy of life as much as those who currently hold it.

And that those who disturb this balance, unabashedly do it so for their own, selfish gain. For they would judge themselves greater than the countless lives that would spring after them. People of such short sight, that stagnation would be preferable than the preservarion of life after death.

These people, these, sinners, would be treat with contempt and vindictive persecution. And they would find no refuge nor succor in the lands of mortals, for they would shun life itself through fear of death.

And thus the church was born, and did grow with each passing sermon, and every show of power granted upon its preisthood.


These days Sur is worshiped by many, in their own way. The God of Death does not care much, his power being sourced from reality itself. But it does put his mind at ease that he is not alone in perserving the balance, for even a primordial finds comfort in the support of mortals, and vindication in their cause that is for the good of all.
Even though they do not need it.

The Moon and Death, unlikely lovers, or more likely than you think?

The rumors of a love affair between the god of death and the moon nymph have long since circulated in this world. How would such a being be attracted to one such as the moon nymph? Surely everything that he came into contact with was somehow... tainted?

Even in modern times, death is considered an ill omen, and in the eyes of mortals it is for good reason.

But the reason, or so they say, that Death and Aria of the tears, are lovers, or even got close at all is simple.

Death comes at night.

Oh not always, but every man dreams of dying in his sleep, peacefully, unaware. While some may dream of shuffling off this mortal coil with a whore around his cock and a belly full of wine, most men would prefer a quiet death. So they, as silly and childish as it seems, would not have to be left alone to mourn their wife or children's passing.

And over the many many years, Aria has watched on as the god of death completed his thankless task, but has seen those very same souls be born again, to live, again, in the world they were so adimant in not leaving.

Ballan Sur is an impartial judge, for all he judges will die in time, and the sentance of death is but a time before new life is born, not a sentance or pennance to pay until the end times.

So after a time the goddess descended upon the world, and the god of death was glad of the company, for even the gods of mortals would avoid his presence if they could. They talked, and philosophised, and yes, had tea.

Every now and then, Aria would descend, and Sur would know happiness. Simple, unadulterated and very, very welcome. Happiness turned to affection, affection eventually lead to love. Aria gave birth to the mother of man.

Now some say all the innate gifts of man came from aria, but let us not forget the gift of a limited life.

A life with a timer on it has more value in the seconds it burns.

>>43990159
You can point at the elves, and the wonders they create, but they are just one, individuals who, very likely, will pass from the world and never see their like again.

Humanity, and other short lived races, blessed with short lives, re-enter the cycle time and time again. Each time emerging different, unique, and more importantly, New.

Their lives burn to drive their civilization and acheivements forward at a break neck speed, and every thousand years, with the middnight march, they will be, inevitably, regifted with skills and abilities once thought lost.

So praise your elves for their abilities, but mortal man will surpass them with many who hold the hammer, the sword and the spear, opposed to their few.


And all the while, Sur and Aria look on. Proud as proud can be, of simple mortals, who stride the earth for but a time, but make that time good.

Ura here. Glad to see the thread is still up, I will now proceed to creating new pastebins for this stuff since it seems I am filing for ScribeAnon.

http://pastebin.com/thSqpHwr

http://pastebin.com/CzuK7GUA

http://pastebin.com/4NY1qFXv

http://pastebin.com/wLnuFhWj

http://pastebin.com/D6r4Qq3C

And here is this thread's worth of Pastebins.

>>43990558
Thanks Ura. Much appreciated.

The Encyclopedia of Things That Will Kill You Eventually

Chapter V: Those Who Hunt And Those Just Can't

Gently she stroked his leathery shaft. "By the gods, so firm. So long and firm" she gasped. "Worry not, i will hand you with care" she exclaimed as she proceeded to sheath his sword into her scabbard. "Yea, yea, strong and firm, now how 'bout ye pay up for th' sword, lass. Don't practice me craft fer free" answered the now annoyed blacksmith. And the woman payed up, used the sword to slay local monsters and died of dysentery two weeks later. Such is the romantic story between a huntress of monsters and her beloved blade, which she replaced two days later for an axe.

If not stemmed early in it's start, the tide of monsters during mating season would lead to innumerable deaths across the continent. Because of this, both amateur and professional monster hunters are mandatory for the survival of small villages. Small sums of gold, free lodging and a hot meal come morn are usually enough to reward such heroic figures, but some try their best to squeeze every bit of silver from villages in their greed. Records show that some "hunters" herd weaker monsters to nest near rich villages and stage incidents to inflate the legend of the monster, ride on their sickly, lame horse to the rescue and drain the wealth from the hamlet. Because of this more respectable hunters have formed unions and punish harshly those who would sully their fame. And by harshly i mean nail pulling and tooth removal with burning hot pincers with razor edges. These unions come in a few flavors:

The Silver Angels: They are less about money and more about glory. An army of rich kids who decided to play hero, buy the best gear and take bread from the mouths of hard working lads and lasses. They do good work on larger scale monster hunts and their fatalities are low, but they tend to be annoying and wreck a few taverns in their after parties. Their entry fees are also through the roof.

>cont.

>>43990608
School of Self Protection: Also known as "Bitchers" by the nobility, this hunter union came to be when some peasants get nagging the locals for refusing to build palisades around villages to stave off monster attacks. So as an answer they paid some retired monster hunters from older unions to teach local farmers how to handle a sword and weed out weaker monsters. This proved quite effective and the nobles decided to fund an entire union just so they could live in greater piece. The taxes went up, but in the long run this also aided the army and peasant fatalities dropped massively. The members of SoSP generally favor group tactics and guerrilla warfare against larger monsters. More often than not the members of SoSP stay in their home village and collaborate with travelling hunters and Bitchers from nearby villages.

Lancers: A union of true professionals, the Lancer gain their name from the iconic weapon, scythe lances. Those who join Lancers do so out of necessity rather than want as the members are generally beggars who want a warm bed and prepared meals or those who seek revenge. Bound for life, Lancers travel across the entire continent to look for monsters to kill. Their prices are high, but you are almost guaranteed to bring results on their hunts. They are usually employed to take down single beasts that have rampaged over a long period and/or are deviants in behaviour and bodily structure (larger, faster, stronger, smarter etc.). Lancers travel and work alone and as such their moral compasses change on an individual basis.

>cont.

>>43990782
Laughing Mercenaries: Followers of The Laughing God, Laughing Mercenaries are a fickle bunch. Their motivation for hunting is "it's for fun". Their methods are unorthodox, their members strange and they ask for the weirdest rewards, ranging from the umbilical cords of people's first born to a small carving of a dancing apple. No matter what, they are quite effective and trained hunters. Nobody knows how to join their union, but rumors tell of weird initiation rituals and massive amounts of pineapple cider.

Ynyr's Shields: Most benign of the unions, Ynyr's Shields ask for minimal rewards, just enough to get by, from even the most deadly hunts. They travel in groups of seven and employ defensive tactics involving complex formation transitions and very specific tasks for each member. YS members consist mostly of sinners who wish to repent, people who have suffered tragedies and wish to stop them from happening again and otherwise good people (yuck). Easily recognized by their high flying green banners, members of YS are a welcome sight during the height of monster breeding season.

>cont.

Hey guys, glad to see this was brought back!
I'm on my phone at work atm but I'll be out soon. Looking forward to catching up and chiming in.

>>43990978
Well for one, Marik has a new daughter.
>>43980697
>>43980704

>>43990878
Hunter's Union Prime: A boring name, this is the group of people who started it all. They have no dress code, no motto or specific requirements for joining. They are the most chaotic and large of the unions as well as being the first. They travel everywhere and are most common of the unions. Members of the HUP come from all paths of life and thus are vastly different from one another. They have bare bones rules for engaging in hunts which can be summed up as "Do what you need and ask for proper prices". They are merchants of death and common mercenaries as any, but still a necessity of this world.

Last Line Eradicators: These people don't fuck around. They are expensive as hell and take no small contracts. They act as small armies mostly employed for herd thinning and eradication jobs, hence their name. The members work as individuals during skirmishes with the monsters and generally fatalities are high among the Eradicators. The union is lead by a few veteran hunters who act as commanders for the nearly hundred large units of hunters. Legendary hunters such as Herman the Lancer (former Lancer hunter), Gerald of Riverland (former SoSP hunter) and Luther (former YS hunter) are the common reasons why up and coming amateur hunters join the Eradicators if only for the chance to at the side of these mighty figures from travelling news.

And yes i did just finish Witcher 3 and got my hands of Bloodborne, hence the blatantly obvious references.

>>43991055
Fastest Paste delivery EVER
http://pastebin.com/pKFteFdJ

>>43990999
Another one?
With who?
That makes 3 races and a daughter under his belt

Guy gets around.

>>43990878
Ynyr approves.

Well i am off to sleep. Tomorrow i will make another 1 or 2 chapters for the EOTTWKYE. Thinking weapons and something else. Also could anybody be a dear and grab chapter 4 from the last thread, don't think i've seen it in the pastes. Anyways g'nite and keep up the good work.

>>43991074
Well to answer...
>>43980697
>>43980704
Epitimia was Ura's firstborn. Of course, the Lady of Ruin had more than one monstrous spawn before her, but none of them was the daughter to both Ura and Marik, the god of knowledge; and she took much pride in her lineage.
Of course she knew her mother never loved him, so much that she cut all the ties with him, but this never stopped Epitimia from looking for her father's advice. Of course the mad god rarely had an answer that wasn't overly cryptic, but Epitimia fancied herself the most clever of Ura's daughters.
Of course, both Ktasia and Urania did the same.

Epitimia slowly walked to Marik's seat, without even a warning- there was no way Marik wasn't aware of her presence. She limited herself to addressing him when she was ready for her question.
"Father?" while Epitimia had only words of scorn for the rest of the pantheon, she was never able to show contempt at Marik "I came to ask a question".
Marik smiled. Of course, he knew the answer, the question,and the reason behind it even before she entered his realm: knowledge was his own domain, after all, and it wasn't like he didn't know his daughter as well. And yet.
"Then speak up, my daughter." He said calmly, studying the old tome hovering in front of him.
"I want it, father. I always wanted it since I was born. I have all the rights to sit in the pantheon at the gods' side." Epitimia was calm, but Marik knew how much his daughter burned with resentment and want: being born of two gods, but being just a demigod, excluded from full godhood. And she had inherited most of her mother's worst aspects as well, admitted that Ura could have good ones as well.
"Father, I claim my birthright. How can I be where I belong?" she asked again, and Marik saw her anger building up quickly. To think she wasn't even the easiest to anger of the three.
"The answer is with men, my daughter". Marik grinned "Go and find it".

>>43991699


And so it came that Epitimia, the scornful, greedy daughter of Ura, went to take a human disguise and live between men, in order to understand what was that she lacked. She saw the humans up close for the first time, and found them weak and frail, and silly, constantly afraid of their own desires; and her need to rule over them only grew stronger.
Then one day, Epitimia, in her human guise, was attacked by other humans. She could feel their lust and their greed, and they were so little and pathetic when confronted to her own that she felt almost pity for them.
Yet something happened that she never imagined, that another human came to help her. He appeared to be some sort of warrior, for he was quick to dispatch the foe, and his name was Laurent; but what left Ura's daughter speechless was what she saw inside his heart.

It happened that Laurent was not an happy man: he had his share of woe in life and carried a burden on his shoulders as well. But unlike the other mortals, he wasn't lamenting his demise, and had no wants or lusts to speak of. In his heart, Epitimia could not sense any of the emotions that ruled her very essence. She began to follow him, enthralled by the simplicity of his soul, and soon found herself unable to part from him. In his peaceful company, the evil demigoddess sated her never ending hunger; her want was only of him.

But sadly, tales of gods are no fairy tales.When her sisters found this out, they rejoiced in seeing how low thier hated sister had fallen,and desired to expose her in front of Ura herself; so Urania lured Epitimia away and the monstrous Ktasia snatched Laurent away, drowning him and sending his corpse into Ura's abyssal realms. And Epitimia was never able to quench her thirst again, and left the world of men again, never realizing that was the place she belonged to, even though this was what Marik tried to show her; while in the realm of the gods, she lost Ura's favor forever, replaced by her younger sisters.

And before I go, have the fully updated Pastebin list.

Pantheon of Saladia
http://pastebin.com/vBiLPTda
specific deities split off from the pack to minimize main page's size:
http://pastebin.com/wYmgyTAxl
http://pastebin.com/6YW1XBZ2
http://pastebin.com/CRjdbn9z
http://pastebin.com/9DNmdiqx
http://pastebin.com/UaaU7ZNB
http://pastebin.com/vpHuqgzT
http://pastebin.com/rLEJSRFd
http://pastebin.com/UAQNCdHT
http://pastebin.com/hUW2rsT5
http://pastebin.com/CQTeME0h

Notable locations and scenery
http://pastebin.com/RjkNfL7k

Lore
http://pastebin.com/nYsJnWvq
http://pastebin.com/XJPWythr

Myths
http://pastebin.com/VjK2wnnW
http://pastebin.com/xibVL86S
http://pastebin.com/xHkYen8u
http://pastebin.com/fnjDCtKK
http://pastebin.com/UF60jpqh
http://pastebin.com/ph30MMDZ
http://pastebin.com/Vur7rEKn
http://pastebin.com/thSqpHwr
http://pastebin.com/CzuK7GUA
http://pastebin.com/4NY1qFXv
http://pastebin.com/wLnuFhWj
http://pastebin.com/D6r4Qq3C
http://pastebin.com/hyfLrTcQ

Relics
http://pastebin.com/0SKUkkKz

Godly Domains
http://pastebin.com/2FAx4duV

History of Saladia (needs revising)
http://pastebin.com/ULMfiFgb

Chronicles of Xizamere
http://pastebin.com/2K9nsP3C

Monstrous Creatures and races
http://pastebin.com/50abex4L
http://pastebin.com/rxTgSntB
http://pastebin.com/drfnacdJ
http://pastebin.com/HwmdxSQ9
http://pastebin.com/kX5sjkAB
http://pastebin.com/pKFteFdJ

>>43991738
Marik would take her under his wing. Not in the direct way. In the mortal would cast his own shroud of protection over her and those around her. His children races would ever so carefully watch over her from a far distance.
Slowly trying to teach her how to be in his own Marik way

He may be a mad god
But he takes care of his children.

>>43991789
>http://pastebin.com/kX5sjkAB

Marik has his own race page
and people say he spends to much time in the Library.

I'm going to revise what I've written on those two races, also, you forgot the Unseen.


on that note, I'm working on a lore entry for him now.