NDNESVI(Reboot): Myths, Legends, and Gods

Sounds highly plausible, particularly given potential encroachment from the more powerful states in northern and central Vasheroth, and the nature of dragons and the god (Vash) that made them.

As for the dragonwastes themselves. Its pretty much divided up presently (prior to update) amongst various independent dragons, with no state system or true civilised society being present. Central and Northern Vasheroth more traditionally are under magocratic/draconic states in the image of the old Empire (presently its a bit chaotic in the aftermath of the Advent of Nital, but this order is not yet overturned).

 

Time to start writing Hogwarts stories for the students of the Holoptic Didarium, until ND's got the time to update again.

 

bump

 

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Update 6
1700 A.C. – 2000 A.C.
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A being of unimaginable destruction. Bloodlust beyond compare. A hellish heat and fury that caused minds to break by mere proximity.

Nital’s hulking frame now slumped in a massive cell.

The Amaranthinium had finally made good on its promise; it could indeed hold a god. When Nital arrived in the Amaranthinium via portal, alarms sounded and the entire prison-city mobilized. All measures and precautions put into place by Yptych, Statue’s son and demigod of Technology, were executed perfectly. Nital offered no resistance though, and appeared motionless in his prison cell. Cheers rang through the Amaranthinium as wardens, guards, and even prisoners celebrated the capture. A great scourge to mortalkind had been subdued. Yptych had been disappointed by the lack of struggle; he wished to see Nital’s might tested against the barriers and wards he had pieced together for the occasion. This disappointment turned to concern, as Nital remained as still as stone. A perplexing matter, but one for a later time.

For this was a crowning achievement for the Amaranthine Empire! The patron gods of the Empire decreed that celebrations would be held at the Amaranthinium to commemorate the defeat of Vash, Nital, and all of the horrors they brought forth against the forces of righteousness. Oddly enough, several expected figures were not present during most of these festivities. Nyubar, God of Life and Death, had been last seen recovering near Achandrasha, who had set about healing his mind after the terrible encounter with Nital and Vash. Zadre was also absent, although the cause was obvious; she was busy patrolling the Amaranthine Empire and making the realm safe once more. The Demigoddess of War had led a brief campaign on the mainland to restore order, but had to return to the heartland of the Amaranthine Empire after reports of frightening shades and nightmarish beasts roaming the countryside flooded in. Her siblings, Lit and Yptych, remained at the Amaranthinium to enjoy its relative safety and to ensure their father had recovered completely.

One guest of honor had an entire day dedicated to him. Yptych and Statute had announced that on this day, Tai, the First Sun, would walk amongst mortals in Creation. Skeptics scoffed at the notion that Tai, as radiant and sweltering as he was, could possibly descend to Creation. His mere gaze dried up oceans and eviscerated cities. Statute and Yptych were indeed mighty, but why jeopardize the safety of their subjects with a fool’s errand? The local Impostor Church members were quick to pounce on the announcement, foretelling great destruction by vain and selfish gods. These naysayers were quickly chased off by the Order of the Adamant, who would not tolerate such heresies.

On the appointed day, Tai donned the “body” that Yptych had designed for him. Its metal evoked a strange feeling as Tai put on the armor intended to house his radiant form. Tai assumed this was the “cold” that Kross had always been going on about. Tai did not share the enthusiasm of the God of Winter, but nevertheless continued putting on the armor as Yptych had instructed. Finally, clad in a dazzling display of strange metals and gems, Tai was prepared for his descent. Slowly he fell from the sky, ready at any moment to hear the shrieks of mortals. Any moment now the crowds would scream and scatter, and Tai would flee to the heavens. Statute was mad to attempt this, in the Amaranthinium of all places. What if it was damaged? Nital could escape! What i-

Tai’s “feet” touched the ground.

In stunned silence, the assembled crowd gazed upon the Sun God, walking among them. Tai’s head was still wreathed in flame, yet the Sun’s heat did not hurt them. Even Zadre had suspended her campaigning for a time to bear witness to the event; the smug smile that stretched across her brother’s face signaled to her that everything had gone according to plan. Seizing this moment to put it all over-the-top, Yptych embraced Tai and shocked all as the metal body protected him from the heat. At once a cheer rang out among the crowd that could be heard rippling through the city. With the Seven Amber Suns traveling through the sky, Tai could now walk among mortals without worrying about upsetting the balance of the seasons.

While the inhabitants of the Amaranthine Empire were largely drunk with success (those not fighting for their lives in the countryside at least), a sobering message was to be delivered by Statute himself. In an announcement given soon after Tai’s descent, Statute shocked all by announcing the end of the Amaranthine Empire. Instead, the God of Balance explained, it would transition into the Amranthine Republic, and that he would step down as ruler. Lit and Yptych were taken aback by this announcement, while the mortals in attendance struggled to not lose their composure. It had been a commonly held belief that the Amaranthine Empire owed its success to the wise, guiding hand of Statute. Statute foresaw those sentiments, and reassured his citizens that the Republic was in good hands. It boasted the greatest forces the world had ever seen. Its lands dazzled with brilliance and wealth. And his children would remain to guide it on its course through fate’s currents.

With the earth-shattering announcements and celebrations concluded, the newly christened Amaranthine Republic set about the noble task of not crumbling in its infancy. With Zadre once again focused on driving back beasts from Multor, boats full of opportunistic giant raiders, and the occasional raft of cunning Slaagi. While their martially inclined sister secured the heartland of the Republic, Lit and Yptych set about organizing the government. A massive senatorial chamber was devised, where the representatives of the Amaranthine people could debate the next course of action for the Republic. Lit seized the initiative in proposing her own vision for the Republic’s future, while Yptych largely returned to his experiments and inventions. This system worked well for a time; few mortals wished to debate against a literal demigod, who argued for the construction of newer roads and the clearance of more land for the region’s signature crystal trees. Lit argued that more wealth would solve the Republic’s woes and that once Zadre returned home, the Republic could truly get back on its feet.

As it turns out, Zadre’s return to the Amaranthinium caused Lit’s vision to truly be challenged for the first time. Zadre, with a vague understanding of how the debating process worked in the senate, demanded that more men were required for the Crystal Legions. The roads and harbors would have to wait; it would be soldiers, not coins, that would secure the safety of the Republic. Out of the woodworks came representatives who had sheepishly allowed Lit’s proposals to go unopposed. With an equally divine leader at their head, these men and women called for greater security for the Republic.

In time, Lit, Yptych, and Zadre would all take mortal consorts and sire gem-eyed descendants. Viewed more as nobility than the divine, these beings found themselves in positions of leadership. This applied both on the battlefield, as well as in the senate. Their divine blood gave them fewer scruples about challenging one another, or even the original demigods. Shifting factions would form, although Lit and Zadre found themselves on opposing sides of issues frequently. Yptych rarely interfered with matters of governance, but his followers oftentimes used their role as tie-breakers to secure funding for places of learning and science.

Across the Bay of Lapis, the challenges facing the Amaranthine Republic multiplied rapidly. The various client-states and local governments had been thrown into complete disarray by the fallout of Nital’s rampage. Heightened restrictions on migrants hoping to come ashore to the homeland of the Amaranthine Republic had sparked rumors that the Republic intended on withdrawing itself from the rest of Creation. And wasn’t it an empire just a few years ago? Where was Statute? Was it true Tai destroyed the Amaranthinium and set Nital free? Local bureaucrats and rulers attempted to negotiate with the local populace and assuage their fears. Occasionally these efforts succeeded, although the presence of Amaranthine troops was the greatest determining factor when deciding which areas remained loyal and aligned to the Republic. Eventually Zadre returned to the mainland with battle-tested legionnaires in tow and secured more lands for direct rule by the Republic.

Aside from rebellious former client-states, Amaranthine forces encountered foes both strange and familiar. The dog-faced Slaagi struck with surprising ferocity at the borders of the Republic’s colonies. Captured raiders snarled of an end of the world, and that it was up to the Slaagi to herald this end-of-times by destroying the evils of civilization. This bitter resistance, coupled with the relatively arid lands of the south made southern expansion more trouble than its worth in the eyes of Amaranthine generals. A series of forts was established along the mountains near Nyubar’s Citadel to safeguard against these disease-ridden invaders. The occasional warband would manage to ravage isolated communities and valleys, but for the most part the threat has been contained.

Further to the west, the steppes filled with a mysterious mist, which echoed with the thundering of hooves and screams of mortal terror. The Avashai had made their presence known in Creation.

Following exceptionally dangerous pathways back to Creation for Tar Vash’eth, the Avashai began to carve out their own realm in the northern steppes. Led by the grim Prince Yrdin, these Avashai quickly set about enslaving the few unfortunate souls that happened to be residing in the area upon their arrival. Humans and Alari were the slaves of choice for the newcomers. Avashai quickly learned that Slaagi were more trouble than their worth; even if one could eventually be subdued, their diseases killed captor and fellow slave alike. Prince Yrdin ordered the construction of his spired city of Mor’eth by these slaves, while his riders spread terror and despair in neighboring lands. While not as imposing physically to the other races of Creation, the Avashai possessed formidable skill with magic. Yrdin’s forces did not hesitate to use their most destructive spells to make an example out of those that dared resist.

In Yrdin’s kingdom, the ley-lines that helped separate Creation from other worlds had become weakened, allowing the Obscuring Mists to partially “leak” in. In mockery of Nyubar’s creation, Yrdin renamed the mists of his realm the Devouring Mists, and claimed dominion over all lands that they rolled over. The Devouring Mists proved to be a powerful deterrent for outside forces and few dared launch retaliatory attacks against Yrdin’s raiding parties. Amaranthine troops have managed to repel some attacks through the clever use of decoys or simply relying on fortifications, while local Slaagi warbands have been known to charge headlong into the Mists, never to return. Yrdin cannot take full credit for the Mist’s deadly reputation though; nightmare-beasts from Multor have been sighted in the region. Some are no more than mere Whisps and vengeful, but ultimately weak spirits. Yet others have been sighted by scouts from afar, their hulking frames poking just above the Mists. Yrdin’s personal guard have so far avoided the local “fauna,” but reports are coming in of Avashai raiding parties taking more casualties coming home, than they do riding out to war.

To the west of Yrdin’s lands rests a kingdom which, although technically allied with Yrdin, stands in stark contrast to the land of the Devouring Mists. Here sits the Kingdom of Arthendal, ruled by The Sword Prince Elduan Arathendalon. While Prince Yrdin seeks to evoke the terror and unsettling features of Tar Vash’eth, Prince Elduan hopes to import the wonder and beauty of their homeland. Elduan has managed to bring in all manner of strange plants from Tar Vash’eth, cultivating them into a forest of oddities. This forest surrounds Elduan’s capital city of Faelin Daraeth, which only further highlights the difference between his realm and that of Ydrin. Mo’reth is a mysterious city of shifting spires, the wailing of slaves, and grisly ends. Faelin Daraeth is one of the few places in Creation where other mortals can interact with the Avashai openly, although few outsiders venture to the strange kingdom for obvious reasons. Price Elduan welcomes those who appreciate learning and culture with open arms, yet to his bewilderment, outsiders keep their distance.

To Prince Elduan’s credit, his efforts to establish a place of learning have put him in direct competition with perhaps the greatest concentration of mortal knowledge and wisdom in all of Creation. For also nestled in the nearby mountains rests the eloquently named Holoptic Didarium. The Didarium was founded by the great polymath Mandas Lorenzada, better known as the “Dayseer”, the “Awakener”, or simply “Teacher.” The Didarium served as a place of great learning during her lifetime; studies of all manner occurred there. Mandas herself was an expert in a dozen fields and was especially known for her intense study of the floating stones that casted their shadows over the area. In her later years, Mandas saw the Holoptic Didarium expand from a meager tower packed with research materials and a few peers, into a full-blown campus. Although largely populated with students from neighboring lands eager to pass their knowledge on back home, many wise men, mages, students of science made the campus their permanent residence.

Following Mandas’s passing, the college formed a council of her most learned pupils, which in turn elected a new Overseer to serve as a custodian and manager for the Didarium. Having swollen in both the number of students and the local population supporting the college, the Overseers after Mandas have juggled the academic needs of the Didarium with the needs of what basically amounts to a city-state at this point. Local kingdoms have largely agreed that the Didarium is neutral ground, although many worry that its focus on the mysteries of life may get in the way of more practical matters. Didarium “forces” comprise of veteran mages and their attendants, which have so far proved adept at stopping the occasional warband from the north. Its learned minds have even proved effective at staving off the incursions of Sorna.

Ironically, the biggest threat to the Didarium’s independence comes from fellow learned minds.

Yptych, typically removed from the debates and discussions within the senate, has called repeatedly for negotiations with the Didarium for either its relocation to the Amaranthinium, or at least for it to become a client-state of the Republic. So far, the Didarium has managed to avoid giving an official answer to the distant superpower when Yptych’s proposals do manage to gain approval. Some in the Didarium argue that the Amaranthine Republic would offer near-infinite resources and security for its scholars, as well as a demigod for a benefactor. However, the majority of the campus feel uneasy about such proposals, and local powers are not eager to lose such a valuable hub of learning.

Further north, a winding path cuts through the northern pines. Along its edges, evidence of carnage and violence are strewn about. Skulls of all shapes and sizes line the path, cracks and puncture wounds warning observers that these were not mortals who simply had succumbed to the elements. No, a fierce guardian looks over this path, having been charged with this task centuries ago. It has not once erred, and has never failed to relish in the slaughter of those that would trespass against Fuku. Against his Tower of Exiles.

Following the repeated shakeups in the former Amaranthine Empire and its client-states, many mortals decided to follow in Fuku’s footsteps and retreat to a safe plane of existence. Inspired by the success of the first migration, subsequent journeyers forgot that they didn’t have a god watching over them like the first wave. Less than half made it, with unfortunate souls being captured by giants, enslaved by Yrdin’s forces, or simply turning back due to harsh conditions. Those that reached the Tower of Exiles could enter a gateway to Fuku’s paradise, although the Tower’s Guardian kept a watchful eye over those who made the last leg of the journey. Those who gave the Guardian any cause for alarm would immediately be set upon by the gargantuan leopard. Travelers were told there were two key secrets to entering the Tower of Exiles.

Do not look guilty. Do not look appetizing.

Fuku’s realm within the Tower is one of gentle, rolling plains and shimmering rivers. Its population has boomed, with mortals living in relative comfort and safety. Fuku’s insistence on a republican form of government at its inception had caused some confusion and skepticism, but since the Amaranthine Republic’s switch in governance, Fuku has been hailed as being ahead of Statute all along. Still, the Republic of Exiles has struggled with forming a coherent system of governance; most decisions are simply made locally through popular vote, with the occasional representative being sent to other communities to settle disputes.

While the population has grown steadily due to nearly perfect farming conditions, Fuku’s followers have found the process of gathering other natural resources rather difficult. To this end, citizens occasionally venture into the outside world as merchants, trading for goods that cannot typically found within the Tower of Exiles. This has led to a somewhat stable relationship with usually warlike northern giant chiefdoms; the Exiles bring surplus food to them during lean times, and the giants transport large quantities of stone and timber to the Tower. Whether these trade ties can be relied upon remains to be seen. More radical Exiles believe the Republic must truly be independent from the old powers of Creation and establish colonies there to obtain resources. The burgeoning merchant class has opposed this ideal fervently, claiming that ongoing trade will allow the Exiles to focus on governing their idyllic world.

In recent years, the number of travelers seeking protection in the Tower of Exiles has dwindled. While the Republic of Exiles has largely made peace with the giants to the north, southern realms have begrudged the Republic’s tendency to lead peasants astray. These kingdoms saw a slow but steady bleed of human subjects fleeing to Fuku’s realm whenever possible. Human subjects continue to flee to this day, but increasingly they choose a new destination. The Kingdom of Giantfell has carved out a safe haven in the Mistshroud Valley, and shows no signs of budging.

House Giantsbane created the kingdom after its progenitor, Gravis Giantsbane, slew the tyrant Chief Fimwhyre the Tall and forced Fimwhyre’s clan to bow before Gravis. Alarmed at the humiliation of one of their peers at the hands of a mere man, other giant chiefs attempted to avenge Fimwhyre. These attacks quickly backfired, as Gravis used guile and cunning to turn these invasions into routs. These resounding successes caused more and more subjects to flock to Gravis’s banner. At the time of his death, Gravis Giantsbane had forced four giant clans either into submission, or evicted them from their lands. The descendants of Gravis formed the nobility of a new kingdom, while Fimwhyre’s clan would go on to become Clan Throneknelt. If the successors of Gravis can safeguard their wily ancestor’s gains remains to be seen. Although with a name like “Giantfell”, the kingdom has no shortage of enemies in the region.

In the southern jungles and savannas, a brief moment of what could almost be called peace swept over the land. Alari, human, and Slaagi groups had engaged in low-intensity, nonstop war as long as anyone could remember. Yet the cataclysmic events of recent decades had sapped the strength of most warring parties. To the Alari, the trespasses of mankind now seemed negligible once Onoqui and demons began to occupy their jungles. With this begrudging tolerance came some level of understanding and communication. Humans adopted local Alari practices of venerating nature and survival techniques, while some Alari adopted the tools and architecture of their former enemies. The city-state of Luavris stands out as the shining example of what can happen when the two cultures fuse; it not only boasts one of the only walled settlements in the region, but also a small number of mages, which are almost unheard of among the Alari. Shrines dedicated to Yagna and Dancer have been joined by those dedicated to Vash, and ironically, Nyubar as well. Many Alari have scoffed at this abomination, decrying it as the beginning of a path down decadence and heresy.

As time went on and local factions regained their strength, hostilities of course resumed. However, the focus of fighting had shifted from the Alari defending their territories from perceived incursions from other races, to hybrid tribes and confederations fighting among one another, while also fighting against traditional Alari defending their jungle homes.

The Crown of the Alari has also reemerged, adding more friction to the realms of the south. Among the newly forged communities of Alari and humans, the Crown is rumored to bring great fortune and victory to those that can obtain it, and so they fight bitterly to secure it. It appears that in the isolated jungle communities, oral traditions have preserved a darker image of the Crown; those who wear it shall be brought to new heights, before plummeting to their doom. These tales are viewed with skepticism by outsiders, who think that perhaps they’re just meant to discourage competition for the Crown.

While the majority of their raiding has been focused northward at the abhorrently civilized Amaranthine Republic, smaller groups of Slaagi raiders still plague southern territories. Yagna’s decree that civilization in all forms must be wiped out has led them to strike out with greater intensity at any sedentary communities they can find. To support their booming population, Slaagi have stormed into river valleys and prime hunting lands, bringing them into direct competition with most established powers of the region. Ironically, this has led to some tribes putting up semi-permanent dwellings in their favorite hunting grounds or rallying points before massive raids. Once seen as an undeniable sign of civilization, some Slaagi now view these dwellings as a necessary evil, although some snarl and say the Slaagi are themselves being corrupted. The biggest argument for this claim is the odd Confederacy of Aravae, which has altogether settled down and begun forming permanent settlements. Neighboring Slaagi tribes have been at a loss for words, urging their brothers to abandon this decadence at once, lest they lose their souls and anger the Mother, Yagna. The Aravae Confederacy has largely ignored these warnings and used their growing numbers to continue expanding.

The Aravae Confederacy is a rare exception to the case though, and Slaagi are almost universally despised for their nonstop warfare and the plagues they bring with them. For this, they have earned a bitter enemy in Carasch, the Horned King. This towering figure leads bands of warriors and heroes known as the Wild Hunt against the incursions of the Slaagi, matching every bit of the intruders’ ferocity with their own. Carasch’s horned shadow has become the stuff of legend among the Slaagi; he is a manifestation of Dancer’s ferocity, a hunter of man and beast alike. Or perhaps he is a spirit from a bygone age, here to reap Slaagi whose ancestors transgressed in the past. Whatever the Slaagi think of Carasch, those under his protection are eternally grateful, offering food, weapons, and occasionally even children, so that they might join the Wild Hunt. Carasch himself claims divinity, owing his martial prowess and unusual form to the concentrated efforts of several Alari shaman to be reincarnated in one body. Few outside of the Wild Hunt acknowledge these claims, but the notion has slowly spread to a few communities.

Largely aloof from the fighting in the south, the various communes that have formed around Yagna’s Wellspring and her insidious rot-trees have continued their oftentimes futile mission of spreading the faith. While Slaagi migrations have largely avoided the wellspring communes, plagues sweep through the land regularly, causing those without access to the Wellspring’s waters to suffer horribly. Still, Yagna’s adherents cling to the Wellspring and drink deep from the font, sustaining themselves so long as they do not drift too far away. Some particularly desperate communities have dabbled in blood magic to try and rid themselves of the plagues without having to constantly drink from the Wellspring. To the relief of many but the horror for many more, these experiments have proven disturbingly effective. When mixed with the blood of mortals, the Wellspring waters have their restorative effects multiplied tenfold.

At this revelation, a gruesome wave of violence swept the river valley as sacrifices were found, one way or another. Some willingly gave up their lifeblood, believing their spirits would find eternal bliss by mixing with the waters of Yagna. Others were less optimistic, and mobs soon formed to “volunteer” sacrifices for their communities. Entire villages were sacrificed by the inhabitants of neighboring cities, and some mobs clashed with one another when sacrifices became scarce. When the dust had settled, cities and towns were abandoned, and the countryside decimated by the infighting. Communities of Yagna’s followers had either been destroyed or forcibly merged into one unified entity, simply referred to as the Wellspring’s Chosen. Seeing the chaos and destruction caused by the blood sacrifices, the Chosen have created a strict code and hierarchy in order to administer the Wellspring’s waters and ensure anarchy does not reign in their holy land. The Wellspring’s Chosen now await Yagna’s guidance, although the rest of the world has to wonder; how can a goddess not simply turn her back on such foul practices?

 

In the southeast corner of Creation, a land relatively untouched by war continues to dwell in opulence. Venathar al’vash en Arakis (or simply Emperor Venathar for those who cannot appreciate true majesty and culture) has modeled his empire much after himself; aloof, distant, and absurdly wealthy. Following Nital’s rampage, which had managed to miss Arakis, Venathar set about expanding his empire quite literally in the wake of the Blood God. Lands devastated by war were offered generous terms; submit to the Dragonlord of Arakis, and you will be protected from further harm. Resist, and the land would be cleared of insolence through magic and dragonfire. Arakis quickly expanded northward, eventually reaching a massive river cutting through the savannas and emptying into the sea. Emperor Venathar had heard tell of a fickle goddess of nature and plagues, that the natives referred to as “Mother”. In her honor, Venathar named this mighty river Yagnaeth.

Plenty of other names danced in Venathar’s head, ready to be doled out when his forces continued their northward march. The lesser races were extremely useful for labor, the arts, and sometimes even showed proficiency for magic. Yet when it came to naming the more impressive portions of Creation, Venathar found them extraordinarily lacking. Even now, his troops had encountered some setbacks on the banks of a river the locals called “Hogwash”. The ancient dragon sneered whenever he read it, and dared not let such an ignoble name grace his lips.

Apparently, the Hogwash people were as repulsive as their naming conventions; troops returned to Arakis with horrific tales of gigantic boars tearing through troops while crazed warriors leap from the underbrush. The beasts demonstrate a base cunning and perhaps even a cruelty towards invaders, and fight alongside the Hogwash people as fiercely as any other warrior. While Arakis has pushed its way into the southern reaches of the Hogwash river valley, progress north has ground to a halt. Disease and extremely unfavorable warfare have made northern prospects dim. Trade to the north has largely been disrupted by the resurgence of northern chiefdoms and kingdoms who view Araki caravans as juicy targets. To further multiply his riches, Venathar will have to brush aside these upstarts, or look across the Sea of Tai and into Vasheroth.

In that forsaken land, the local dragonlords have had one fact etched into their minds: Vasheroth was birthed by an act of incredible violence, and all who dwell there will inherit this legacy.

The Kingdom of Morovash had undisputedly come out ahead in the wake of Nital’s rampage; it aligned itself with the Blood God and found its mages suddenly in communication with all manner of fiends and powerful spirits. Its leadership spared from the torments and tortures that typically wash over those in Nital’s path, Morovash quickly set about sacrificing hapless peasants and appeasing their new allies. Morovashian dragons drank deep from the font of forbidden knowledge and dark arts that had now been opened to them, and sought to forge a continent-spanning empire in blood and flame.

As Morovash marshalled its infernal forces, the weakened kingdoms of Dagoth’eth, Veloth’an, and Vashadar resolved to fight to the bitter end. Urged on by the elder dragons of Tar Vash’eth, the dragonlords of those three kingdoms unified their forces and made war upon their wayward neighbor. The early phases of the war were ones of wanton destruction; the allied forces incinerated stretches of land in hopes of clearing them of the shambling dead, scarring the land for coming centuries. Morovash sent vicious spirits and beasts to terrorize the allied kingdoms while their forces were committed to the field. Morovash’s dragons unleashed horrific plagues and blights upon their enemies, committed to the idea that it was better to rule a land of ruins and death than to succumb to Vash’s servants. For the first time in Creation’s history, dragons fought against one another in the skies of Creation. Blood rained down from the sky as arcane knowledge and magical technique gave way to crushing jaws and hellish heat. Beneath them, legions of undead and tortured souls fought against some of the greatest mages of their time.

Moments of unspeakable carnage punctuated years of low-intensity fighting as both sides tried to regain just enough strength to land a knockout blow. Dagoth’eth momentarily fell to Morovash and saw most of its inhabitants slaughtered without hesitation by the invaders. Tar’Maegeth was incinerated by over a dozen dragons from the allied forces, in an event that signaled the beginning of the end for Morovash. Morovash’s tactics became increasingly desperate as it became apparent that the undead hordes had proved ineffective against draconic forces, and the fiends of Nital were unreliable and difficult to direct in any meaningful way. Allied forces had teetered close to the edge of oblivion several times, but managed to hold themselves together through reinforcements from the Dragonwastes, who saw Morovash as the greater of two evils. Morovash attempted to even the odds by performing increasingly elaborate and lethal blood rituals, summoning colossal demons who oftentimes rampaged in Morovash as much as against the intended target.

In the end, Morovash’s self-destructive spiral helped bring the decades-long war to a conclusion. Blood cultists, necromancers, and disgraced dragonlords fled to jungle hideouts, mountaintop eyries, or simply to the Dragonwastes, where hopefully they could leave their past behind them. This was only possible for a small minority though, as the noose tightened around the fragmented remains of Morovash. No terms were offered for the forsaken, and Morovash’s last moments were ones of screams and soot. The victory had been a hollow one; in a cruel irony, the devastation brought on by the war had been even worse than that caused directly by Nital. Dragons had slaughtered one another and scarred the land irreversibly, and the corrupting influences that tainted Morovash had not been contained. While the dregs had largely been removed from the north-central areas of Vasheroth, a more persistent form of undead now plagued the region. Ghosts, specters, shades, spirits. They went by many different names as they stalked the ruins of cities, the shadows of the jungles, and the yet undiscovered laboratories of darker days.

The destruction of Dagoth’eth led to its remaining nobility and forces agreeing to merge with the Kingdom of Vashadar in the last days of the war. Vashadar reached out to Veloth’an, urging the eastern kingdom to join the new Magocracy of Vashatram in restoring the continent to its former glory. Veloth’an refused, recognizing that the former Vashadar nobility were quickly forming the nucleus of this new state. Veloth’an had managed to shelter its population from most of the fighting and had its own ambitions once Morovash had been eliminated. Just as the last stragglers from Morovash had been dealt with, Veloth’an and Vashatram simultaneously announced themselves as the sole successor of Vasheroth. In the following years, the two states would nervously eye each other across the Silent Spires, licking their wounds while trying their best to put on a show of strength. Avashai from Tar Vash’eth largely ignored this rivalry, establishing schools of learning for both sides.


The Dragonwastes have maintained their status as a fiercely independent and fractured region, although city-states and individual dragonlords will ally with Vashatram or Veloth’an if it means gaining a leg up on the competition. Among these independent powers are the so-called “Patronages”; absurdly wealthy rulers, nobles, and merchants that are rumored to be interconnected through a complicated web of alliances, marriages, and blood pacts. Of course, each “patron” denies it, and nearly every ruler in the south has been accused of being a patron, so few heed these conspiratorial views with much credence. Lawlessness does rule the region though, and the local power-brokers spend as much time enriching themselves as they do governing their respective turfs. In this type of environment, the cults and sick experiments of the north have slowly seeped in and found a lovely home. Some in Vashatram and Veloth’an argue that the true enemy still resides south, protected by shield of deceit and greed.

In the former lands of Morovash, similar lawlessness has combined with the ravages of war to create a truly bleak landscape. Both Vashatram and Veloth’an nominally claim portions of the region, but its extremely low population, worthless land, and reputation as a specter-infested hellscape translate into its status a place largely free of outsider interference. Scavengers and the odd holdout from the war still wander the lands, looking for occult knowledge amongst the ruins. Husks can occasionally be seen tilling fields that are no longer there, undisturbed by the wastes around them.

It is in this dreary landscape that an amalgamation of mercenaries, refugees, mages-for-hire, and criminals on the run, known as the Forsaken Company, have made their home. The Forsaken Company is the closest thing to a force for order in the region, enforcing the will of Veloth’an or Vashatram (depending on who bid more) when no one else can. When they aren’t busy doing the bidding of the southern realms, they find themselves in the employ of treasure hunters, mages, and all manner of unscrupulous characters.

To the north of those forsaken shores, rumblings began. Harika herself had not been seen gracing the Typhan kingdoms with her presence for centuries. Rumors abounded that Harika may have succumbed to her wounds, and that Xalthar had ultimately succeeded in slaying a god. Yet Harika’s own personal guards knew the truth; the mighty sea goddess had placed herself in a sort of stasis, maintaining her lifeforce and strength, but rendering her in a sleep-like state. Her Tempest continues to rage above the waters of Katoyota Sea, and her divine might has only lessened slightly. Slowly but surely knowledge of her stasis spread to the outside world, and now Typhans make pilgrimages to the slumbering sea goddess. Arash, the most powerful and trusted of Harika’s followers, became her de facto representative in the world of mortals and kept a watchful eye over the rest of her flock. The panic that had arisen after Harika’s retreat into stasis had been calmed somewhat by Arash’s frequent visits to the various reaches of the Katoyota Sea, assuring Typhans that he knew Harika’s will and that all was well.

Aloof from the troubles of Creation sat Kross, within his own icy plane of existence. Kross had come to represent cold in more ways than one; since the War of the Three, Kross had remained largely outside of mortal affairs, at least directly. Similar to Harika’s place of rest, Kross’s portal and realm of absolute cold became a place of pilgrimage, except in this case for the frost giants. With each subsequent pilgrimage, giants witnessed the portal to Kross’s realm become more and more elaborate and formidable. Statues of ice stood at attention, towering above even the largest of giants. To their amazement, the statues turned to face them and could obstruct the portal when Kross deemed it necessary. It seemed that Kross wanted to put as much between himself and Creation as possible.

Yet Kross could not help but meddle in the affairs of mortals.

While previous forays into the world of mortals had caused horrific shifts in weather and arguably countless deaths, Kross had reassured himself that this latest project would cause no (noticeable) harm. Harnessing the unimaginably frigid energies that swirled around him, Kross melded it into a sphere as white as snow. Kross gave out a low chuckle. Statute had his prison, now Kross had his own. Fitting in the palm of Kross’s hand, the sphere was still large enough to house a giant comfortably. Kross gave it one last glance to ensure his craftsmanship worked as intended, and then unceremoniously hurled it into Creation. The massive missile came screaming out of Kross’s realm, streaking across the northern wastes of Creation, and towards the Stepstone Isles.

As fate would have it, Arash had been patrolling the skies that day, and abruptly found himself confined within a blindingly white, frozen orb. The icy prison continued to travel several more leagues across Creation before appearing once more in Kross’s realm. Arash’s apparent disappearance in the eyes of the Typhans caused a bit of a crisis; the slumber of Harika had been one thing, but now her most noble and devout servant had just been plucked from the skies. In untold numbers, Typhans began flocking to Harika’s Palace to pray and beg for Harika or Arash’s return. Harika’s closest attendants and guards tried their best to maintain order by putting on a calm front. They claimed that the Tempest was proof of Harika’s continued influence and that there was nothing to fear. The Tempest had even expanded slightly after Arash’s “disappearance”, drifting further north and lashing the northern wastes with lightning. Harika’s attendants claimed that Kross would be punished in due time, and that they would now watch over Harika’s followers in her stead.

In Kiarous (or the Shadowlands, as they have been so drearily called by some), mortalkind recuperated quite nicely for the first few years following Nital’s imprisonment. The Kingdom of Onoqu had not gone on the warpath after Nital’s arrival, and had not spiraled into complete disarray at the Blood God’s imprisonment. The Choral Quorum took a defensive posture, awaiting an invasion that never arrived.

At least, not from Onoqu.

Mirroring the arrival of Prince Yrdin in the far east, an Avashai by the name of Lady Araidawen has emerged on the steppes of Kiarous. Just as Prince Yrdin has his dark city of Mo’reth, Lady Araidawen has her capital, known simply as the Black Spire. Slave raiders have been seen taking slaves to that dismal structure, although it is unclear what the slaves’ purpose is. While a small portion of them provide food and a source of labor for Lady Araidawen, the vast majority are simply never seen again. Araidawen claims to be enacting the will of Vash through her actions, and shows no signs of halting her attacks on neighboring peoples.

Far away from the protection of the Choral Quorum or the Kingdom of Onoqu, formidable fortress-cities have sprung up along the coastline. Initially formed to help defend against the forces of Nital and some outlying forces of Xalthar’s hordes centuries ago, the Varakash Bastions now stand defiantly against the raiders of Lady Araidawen and any others that seek to terrorize the northern coasts. Through a system of drums called “Thunderers,” the Bastions can signal to one another when an invading force is on its way. The Thunderers have proved invaluable as an early warning system, allowing farmers and fisherman to seek safety before the arrival of hostile forces. Many a mysterious raiding party from the lands of Araidawen has simply turned around upon hearing the sound of a Thunderer. In those cases, it is simply best to try again and hope to go undetected.

As mentioned earlier, Onoqu has mostly paid heed to matters within its own borders, only occasionally sending retaliatory raids at Lady Araidawen. Instead, its nobility has had the rather difficult task of reconciling their own faith in Nital with the very harsh reality that their god is now imprisoned.

On the other side of Creation.

In an immense prison-fortress-city guarded by several deities and demigods.

While this would perhaps faze adherents of lesser gods, the followers of Nital have remained steadfast behind their Blood God; after all, are they not still receiving his blessings? Indeed, the odd crimson rains continue to fall upon Onoqu, sustaining its abnormally large and puzzling flora and fauna. Sure, the occasional virgin goes missing for sacrifice, but in light of recent events in Vasheroth, things could certainly be worse.

Under the leadership of King Sier, Onoqu has seen more tangible benefits of being aligned to Nital. Namely, a substantial force of well-disciplined demons has sworn itself to the protection of Onoqu. Rarely can a mortal succeed in getting one demon to pledge fealty; King Sier’s reign has seen a few dozen swear allegiance to himself and the kingdom. Aside from repelling raids from slavers, these demons have gone untested on the battlefield, but their mere presence has made many in the Choral Quorum nervous. In Onoqu, people sing the praises of King Sier and his “red legions”, who will someday crack into the Amaranthinium and let their god walk free once more.

For all their troubled past together, the Choral Quorum and Onoqu have taken remarkably similar stances during this time period. The Quorum, instead of expanding outward, have largely braced itself for invasions from all sides. With Sier’s demons common knowledge at this point, members of the Order of the Adamant have called for the Choral Quorum to simply declare war and rid Kiarous of Nital’s influence once and for all. The prevailing opinion in the Quorum, however, is to protect its people and simply prepare to repulse invaders. Lady Araidawen’s slave raiders to the north have helped contribute to this notion, as well as the unusual activities in Artaraka to the west. The Adamant insist that these threats are secondary or negligible, causing unforeseen friction between the longtime defenders of the Quorum, and its citizens.

Artaraka, while the subject of much deliberation in the Quorum and even in Lady Araidawen’s court, has ignored these neighbors and devoted its resources to studying and mapping Creation. More than any other people, the mages of Artaraka are gaining an understanding of Rios’s Portals and cataloguing their findings. High ranking mages can access incredibly valuable portals and travel to distant continents in a blink of an eye, although even the most experienced mages can have mishaps in transit. This relative ease of travel has resulted in continued expansion of outposts across Creation, all which house strange experiments and serve as chokepoints from which to control the portals. Largely dismissed as an order of mages who have traded common sense for fanciful experiments and meaningless discoveries, Artaraka nevertheless possesses some of the most inquisitive minds in Creation, outclassed only by the Holoptic Didarium.

In fact, it was the mages of Artaraka who first discovered the source behind Nyubar’s disappearance all those years ago.

Not too far away from their outpost near the Katoyota Sea, Artaraka mages exploring the mountains discovered floating islands drifting through the air. Initially these were dismissed as identical to the floating bodies that were witnessed by Mandas on the eve of Nital’s arrival. Those stones had been well documented and considered an unusual, albeit natural phenomenon. However, upon further investigation, it was discovered that humans had taken up residence on these floating islands. Instead of barren floating hunks of debris, these were indeed genuine landmasses held aloft by a strange substance the natives referred to as “floatstone.” Their legends told of a god, ranting about the dangers of the ground, and how mankind would only be safe if they took to the skies. The strange god enchanted the stones around them, which proceeded to float if exposed to too much light. The strange, hooded god then ran off to new lands, while Achandrasha raced close behind.

Nyubar denied the claims, although similar accounts cropped up in other areas where this “floatstone” material was being discovered. In some lands, floatstone was not used to create truly floating structures, but instead helped support extraordinarily high pillars that contained entire cities. Nyubar’s madness had some logic to it, and the inhabitants of these settlements in fact felt safer off the ground, although this mostly applied to the upper classes that resided at the top of the pillars. The lower sections were largely with primitive dwellings and caves for servants and slaves. Since the initial discovering, floatstone deposits have been discovered in the Dragonwastes, although the process of mining it is extremely costly and time consuming. Over-exposure to light or any other source of energy appears to destabilize floatstone and cause it to crumble, and it will likely be many years before mortals truly master the odd substance.

Perhaps impressed with Nyubar’s handiwork (or seeking to outdo him), Rios set about on his own project. It had been a great while since more land had been added to Creation, and if Rios’s memory served him correctly, Achadrasha even took her Isle into the heavens. It would be up to Rios to rectify this horrible imbalance. Taking a page out of Nyubar’s book, Rios created an extremely buoyant series of landmasses north of Kiarous. Not truly connected to the ocean floor, these islands were covered in pumice and then mounds of dirt for good measure. Local Typhans objected to the haphazard placement of the islands, especially those that placed entire villages under the islands’ shadow. Typhans pleaded for the islands to be destroyed, or at least relocated. Those pleas fell on deaf ears; Rios was too busy fawning over the arrival of his favored servants to the islands to take notice, while Harika remained in stasis.

Fate, in recent years, did not appear to be kind to anyone in Creation, mortal or deity, mundane or magical. Ironically, this held true for the God of Fate, Vash. His attempted assault on Nital had ultimately failed. That was a minor setback. He had lost the Godslayer, a weapon of incredible power imbued with a malicious presence that desperately wants revenge against him. Once again, a minor setback. But this? This was humiliating.

Vash stared once more at his hands. Glowing. Robes? Also glowing.

It was an absolute eyesore for a deity who had gone through great lengths to remain hidden from his enemies. To his followers, the light was absolutely blinding, and Vash had to remain hidden within the deepest, darkest reaches of Tar Vash’eth. Vash felt disgusted; Tai’s Mark felt like a constant invasion of privacy, like an ever-present reminder that he was hunted. Something had to be done.

Having some experience with siphoning off energy from other gods, as well as “repurposing” the works of others, Vash set about trying to remove the Mark and making it something useful. Slowly, Vash drew out the light emanating from his skin, like venom from a wound. Before him the light gathered in the shape of a sphere; a sun for Vash’s domain. To Vash it seemed fitting that one of Vash’s greatest enemies would supply him with a housewarming gift. Nearly all the light had been focused into the sphere, when suddenly the process stopped. With a dull glow still clinging to Vash. In a panic, Vash began the ritual again, trying to draw the light into the sun once more. It would not budge. Vash’s amusement at the occasion turned to frustration; he had gotten his sun, but Tai’s Mark remained, albeit in a weaker state.

Vash set his new “false-sun” into the air above Tar Vash’eth, which was now bathed in a pale, sickly light. While somewhat suitable for a city of ever-changing architecture, shadowy mists, and the shadows of dragons passing overhead, the strange light source gave the inhabitants an uneasy feeling. They all felt a sudden sense of unease, like a prying eye now had watch over their city. Vash contemplated putting out the light, but it had a role to play in his plans. Specifically, the false-sun would serve as a beacon for those mortals still trying to reach Tar Vash’eth but stumble along the way due to the Obscuring Mists. This way, fewer mortals would get lost, and the elder dragons of Tar Vash’eth could focus their energies elsewhere, instead of constantly protecting mortals in the Mists.

Technically, this plan worked. Mortals who found themselves wandering Obscuring Mists stood a slightly better chance at finding Tar Vash’eth. However, mortals are not the only ones that dwell in the Mists. Beings from Multor who had long been trapped blindly wandering the Mists for lost mortals suddenly had a target. Something to hone in on. The elder dragons of Vash no longer had to devote themselves to protecting those traveling to Tar Vash’eth; they had to protect the city itself. This task has become near constant; one or two elder dragons must routinely patrol the entrance to Tar Vash’eth, lest the city suffer incursions from the countless horrors outside its gates. Another minor setback, to be sure.

Not all gods in Creation are vicious warriors, plotting schemers, or loud champions of justice. There exists a kind spirit who owes its divinity to an overwhelming drive to heal and restore. Xanthar found himself thrown into a world full of suffering; not just hearing the cries and misfortunes of mortals but feeling them. Xanthar set out, healing all he came across without hesitation. It did not matter the creed or status. For what did Xanthar know of status? Of creed? Of Creation at all? Well, soon enough Xanthar became acquainted with a few aspects of Creation.

“Rula” and “Nital” were two names associated with pain and terror, sometimes heard together in particularly woeful areas. There had been a fish-woman who could raise the dead, and she bore a strikingly similar name to Xanthar. The Mender believed this to be a peculiar joke, but after the first few mentions of it, Xanthar accepted it as a reality of this strange, new world. Xanthar was mistaken for another figure, “Nyubar,” quite frequently. People who uttered this name begged Xanthar to leave, and to not “take them away.” These were some of the hardest to heal, but also the most grateful. In time, the wandering Xanthar found himself recognized by mortals, who were quick to bring out their sick, their dying, and in some desperate cases, their dead. Great celebrations arose wherever Xanthar passed, and local priests and devotees to other gods found it difficult to refuse this newcomer entry. Xanthar has asked nothing of the mortal world, and yet his devotees are among some of the most successful in evangelizing. Small crowds of followers have now begun wandering Creation in imitation of their god, trying their best to heal and help the needy.

 

A different type of evangelizing was also taking place across Creation, just as vigorous, but not quite as welcomed by outsiders. The work of the Impostor Church never ceases.

The Impostor Church had seen an uptick in activity, especially in the wake of Nital and Sorna’s rampage. Mortals angered and confused at the actions of the gods found easy explanations coming from the lips of Impostors. Sure, some gods had provided bounties and boons for mortals, but others like Yagna had betrayed their followers and caused blight to strike Creation. It seemed that for everyone one instance of a god helping mortals, the Impostors had ten examples of divine folly and a disregard for mortal lives. In the lands of the dragonlords, the Impostor Church found skeptics aplenty, given the controversial role Vash had played in history since… well, as far as anyone can remember. The retreat of several gods from Creation, the false rumors of the Amaranthine Republic’s withdrawal from the rest of the world, and Harika’s stasis led many to believe that the gods had indeed forsaken mortalkind. But do not despair, the Impostors reassured their flock. Mortalkind could be free from the machinations of the divine, should they chose to reject the fickle gods.

Heresy of this magnitude could not be tolerated by the Order of the Adamant. Thiers was an order established through the blessings of several gods, selflessly blessing mortals with the power to smite evil. This “Curator” fiend was another enemy of mortalkind, in their eyes, and had to be brought to justice. Impostors often made caricatures of the Order’s paladins, mocking their perceived self-righteousness and blind zeal. The two organizations have played a lengthy game of cat-and-mouse for centuries, and neither party shows signs of fatigue.

The source of the Impostor menace, Hell, has largely gone unnoticed by Creation, much to the delight of its inhabitants. The Republic of Hell has slowly but steadily worked out many of the early problems of its society, namely the capacity for random acts of violence or chaos. The chaos of earlier years has been replaced by a nonchalant attitude towards the nature of Hell; at this point, almost all the inhabitants of Hell are native-born and do not know another existence. These natives of Hell can be distinguished by their red pupils, and their odd behavior on the rare occasion that they leave their bizarre homeland. In small numbers, or even going solo, hellions venture into Creation in search of “true” meats and crops which are apparently unavailable in Hell. Denizens of Hell, when they haven’t scared away farmers or merchants, offer to pay absurdly high prices with the materials they bring from Hell; typically, precious metals and gems that hold no real value in Hell.

Denizens of Hell can usually preserve items from their homeland with special runes and spells that keep the items in sort of stasis. Materials from Hell that are not protected this way have a bad habit of reverting into muck and stone, much to the chagrin of merchants everywhere. Slowly but surely, members of the “Great Experiment” have caught onto this inconvenient condition and have taken greater precautions when dealing with the Denizens of Hell.

Hell, commerce complications aside, has been a resounding success in the eyes of its creator.

But now, a new experiment must begin. One that must be taken lightly.

Yagna glimpsed the beginnings of it, having sought out Curator in his Library.

She glided through row after row of books, seeking out the robed figure himself. She had no need for the hooded figures that scaled the walls, nor the books that they constantly sorted and resorted. Her time was precious, and the Library made her feel… wrong. Yagna pressed onward, ignoring the book recommendations that echoed behind her. Did these peons know who she was? Nothing was right here. She would find Curator and get what she needed. She would find…

As she rounded the corner, she saw a cloak, held aloft in the air as countless slivers of shimmering gold whisked away from its interior. The slivers danced in the air, flying past the books and oddities in the immediate vicinity, humming and buzzing as they went. For a moment, Yagna was captivated by the beauty of the spritely beings. Before Yagna could snap herself out of her gaze, the last of the slivers of light had squeaked through a crack in the ceiling. Yagna could sense them for but a mere moment. They had gone to Creation, that much was certain. Yet they disappeared from her senses within seconds. Yagna looked down at the cloak before her, eyed the unusually quiet corner of the Library one last time, and left. There was nothing to be gained here.


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Maps

Spoiler Political Map :

Spoiler City Map :

Spoiler Good ol Climate Map :

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Well there ya have it! It took me a year, but the update is finished. My apologies for how long it took, and I completely understand if many of you are wary of getting involved in a game that just had a year-long hiatus between updates. It is my hope that I can make more time for this NES and keep it going with your help!

@Everyone: Claim up to two different entities. You cannot play as two on the same “tier”. The tiers are god/country/group/individual. I will give priority to people who have contributed to that particular entity. For example, if Terrance wants to continue playing as Tai or play as the Choral Quorum, I would give him first pick before a newer player that expressed interest in playing those same entities.

Also, I had to take some liberties with naming countries, regions, and factions. We are kinda weak in that department right now. Please name things, or give me a gigantic pool of names to choose from and I’ll use them where necessary!

If you want to know more about a certain part of this world, odds are there’s something about it in the wiki. If you can’t find it there, feel free to contact me or another player who might know.

We are officially in Stage II, so follow the rules you find on the front page. If you are a new player interested in joining, you can either take control of one of the NPCs left behind, or start fresh somewhere in the world. I am absolutely open to new Gods, countries, or groups forming, and obviously individuals are extremely flexible. If you plan on joining as an entirely new country, the light grey and dark grey areas show where higher populations are.

@KaiserElectric Kama the Lost has begun her journey, should you choose to guide her! You included her in your orders, but you didn’t really give her anything to do. You can just kinda plop her down on the map in any Typhan territory and send orders to get the ball rolling.

I believe that's everything for now. Stats and the front page should be updated shortly. If you have any questions, fire away. It's been forever since I've messed with the forums, so I struggled a bit with formatting. Please let me know if there's anything I can do to make things more readable/less clunky.

 

The Curator is dead, as part of their great experiment. Claiming the Republic and the Impostors.

 

The Holoptic Didarium and its world of students are ready to reveal the secrets of creation! Also, _________ is around doing its thing, probably.

 

Can I be Rüla/Sorna and some other thing? Considering they're the same being

 

Claiming the Republic of Exiles and an individual - Bartholomew Solomon, a vocal leader in the Senate for the militant self sufficiency faction. Has recently managed to convince the Senate to grant him some wealth to buy necessary supplies and gathered some hardy men to form a small logging community in the forests near the Tower. The Merchant faction is convinced the failure of such an endeavour will shut the Solomites up (as the self sufficiency advocates are known) for a while.

 

Absolutely! All other claims are fine as well!

 

All that our Lord has done, incomprehensible though his works are to our feeble minds brought forth the advancement of mortalkind and the uplifting of the world. For change for the sake of the fate of all things is the essential nature of Vash. It is He who brings change that the races might develop and advance, through hardship as well as through plenty, through suffering and through enlightenment, towards the final fate ordained for us since the beginning of time. Without change honourable brethren, all would be an unchanging stasis, devoid of purpose and meaning.

~ The Sword Prince, speaking at the Holoptic Didarium on the nature of Vash.

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We are shadow unto the light, that by our very existence the lesser might become more than they are

~ Prince Yrdin, speaking when confronted about the purpose of Avashai raids by a Amaranthine scholar during a visit to Arthendal.

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claims/queries below in spoiler

Spoiler :

I'll stick with Vash the Changer [Tai mark nullification proceeds as planned, the process is not yet complete we'll see if providence allows for Vash to complete the project], and as my second option...

Would Tar'Vasheth include all the various Avashai sub-factions that have taken up residence in the material world? iirc they were set up as "earthly outposts" of various Avashai "courts" within the greater whole of Tar Vash'eth... If so Tar Vash'eth would be my first option, if not then I would like a rundown if possible on how that entity would fit within the country "tier" of things, and what playing as them would entail given it is located "beyond the map" so to speak.

 

Woah another update on NES!

I would like to get involved in this, if you have room for one more.

 

Tar Vash'eth lands squarely in the country tier, as shown on the first page. It holds significant sway over Yrdin and Araidawen's lands, but those two have been made separate countries.

Absolutely! Feel free to communicate with other players if you'd like to play as one of their creations, or make something completely new if you want!

EDIT:
There has been an update to a portion of the country rules on the front page so that the expenses each nation faces seem a little less vague and arbitrary. I promise you, there is a method to this madness ;P

 

Spoiler :

Goodbye ​

​

You gave us everything and left us behind.

We won't mix words with euphemisms and deflections, such as suggesting that you live through us, or that you are still watching us from somewhere. We know you are dead, and we are sure that you would have wanted us to understand that too, so that we can live free from your influence as well as any other. So that we can move on with our lives free.

But if a small bit of selfishness is allowed, if this feeling in our chest and hearts is genuinely our own, we would like to say...

We miss you.

 

Nyubar watches eternal.

 

Alright, Vash and Tar Vash'eth it is for now. If anyone is interested in taking up one of the many other Va****e realms I'm open for consultation.

 

Posting to express my interest in continuing playing Just going to reread first.

 

I'm looking to continue as Carasch and as a Human-Giant Kingdom on the eastern continent. The area seems unnamed, where can I find info on it?

 

Carasch sounds good. And if you wanna PM me a map of the area you want to claim, I can approve it. Honestly those portions of the eastern continent (which doesn't even have a name...) have been largely left alone, and so it's fairly open for development. I'd just recommend brushing up on the different types of giants.