The Chosen reaches the top of the dias, and begins using the implement to carve new patterns into their flesh, deep gouges that cauterize as they are carved.
The chanting of the Swarm's followers continues, and the Chosen climbs into the Bowl.
The Swarm drops guts and blood into the bowl, submerging the Chosen...
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Kasrik Argentum Stellaris Fiddlesticks the Wizard, Lord of Stars, Master Trickster, and Creator of both the Mosh of Stardust Hornets and Mimiczilla.
*Freddy? I don't know much about FNAF. Here is a wild domain god.*
A new god is born from the barren land. This new deity looks around at the sandy wasteland and decides there isn't much room for improvement.
The dark forms of buzzards circle high up in the air, watching the god below like angels. A tall human form wanders through the desert causing brittle, thorny vegetation to grow from the dusty footprints of his cowboy boots. A sandy colored poncho is draped over his shoulders and all manner of critters pour out from under it. Lizards as quick as lightning and as thorny as cacti, rattling serpents that slither sideways, racing birds that speed along the sand rather than the through the air, rasping locust and rolling armadillos. Where his head should be, the skull of a longhorn cow wearing a wide-brimmed hat floats.
He stretches a bony hand up to the sun, grabs its light, and pulls a wave of blistering heat down upon his domain.
Raziel returns to his recently created village. The adamas pillar, more like a tower, standing at over 100 feet, towers over the village. The humans have already made the most of their surroundings. The village is riddled with canals, similar to Venice, but not suspended upon poles.
It seems more humans have been converted to Nephilim. I search for Jonathan. I find him hard at work on the outskirts of the village, working to expand it.
”Jonathan” I say from behind him. He looks behind him, startled. When he realizes who he is talking to, he kneels,
”Lord Raziel” he says.
I pull him up by his shoulders,
”There is no need to kneel. Now, I have given you this land to work with. What shall you call it?”
Jonathan thinks for a moment,
”We, as a collective, decided to call this village, soon to be city, Alicante and its surrounding lands Idris”
”Idris…a fitting name. You may go back to work. I have something I must attend to.”
And so I fly off, spending the rest of the day making Idris more suitable. At the edges of the newfound country, several dozen kilometres away I set up wards.
Wards are designed to keep people and creatures out of an area, or keep them in. These wards are special. They allow any creature or demon to pass through, but bar normal humans from entry. Instead, when a human tries to enter, they are relocated to the other side of the country as if nothing had happened, as if the country didn’t exist.
Moving towards the city I head to the top of the pillar. I set up another ward. This one keeps out demons.
”I have done all i need…” I say to myself.
I observe the town at work from the top of the pillar, not on a throne, not from some fancy divan, but standing. I stand and watch carefully.
I observe the town at work from the top of the pillar, not on a throne, not from some fancy divan, but standing. I stand and watch carefully.
You hear the heavy flap of wings. The dark shapes of buzzards circle you from above.
I eye the creatures carefully. After a few moments, I let them continue to circle. I keep them in the back of my mind.
The buzzards begin to draw closer, whirling around in a swirl of black feathers. They melt into each other with a loud rustling and the stark white shape of a longhorn skull grows from out of the feathery swarm. “Howdy, I’m new around these parts. Thought I’d meet the neighbors.”
I observe the town at work from the top of the pillar, not on a throne, not from some fancy divan, but standing. I stand and watch carefully.
You hear the heavy flap of wings. The dark shapes of buzzards circle you from above.
I eye the creatures carefully. After a few moments, I let them continue to circle. I keep them in the back of my mind.
The buzzards begin to draw closer, whirling around in a swirl of black feathers. They melt into each other with a loud rustling and the stark white shape of a longhorn skull grows from out of the feathery swarm. “Howdy, I’m new around these parts. Thought I’d meet the neighbors.”
I groan inwardly. I turn around and smile,
”Hello. Who may you be? And what brings you to Idris?”
Herionidus sits in a hollow in his great tree, caring for a small sprout. It has a thin green stem and delicate leaves, and it has three buds that look ready to blossom at any moment. The deathbloom is almost fully grown.
I observe the town at work from the top of the pillar, not on a throne, not from some fancy divan, but standing. I stand and watch carefully.
You hear the heavy flap of wings. The dark shapes of buzzards circle you from above.
I eye the creatures carefully. After a few moments, I let them continue to circle. I keep them in the back of my mind.
The buzzards begin to draw closer, whirling around in a swirl of black feathers. They melt into each other with a loud rustling and the stark white shape of a longhorn skull grows from out of the feathery swarm. “Howdy, I’m new around these parts. Thought I’d meet the neighbors.”
I groan inwardly. I turn around and smile,
”Hello. Who may you be? And what brings you to Idris?”
The swarm of vulture feathers undulates slightly but stays in place. “I’m just a desert god from out in the Badlands. Idris, is that what you call this little town of yours?”
I observe the town at work from the top of the pillar, not on a throne, not from some fancy divan, but standing. I stand and watch carefully.
You hear the heavy flap of wings. The dark shapes of buzzards circle you from above.
I eye the creatures carefully. After a few moments, I let them continue to circle. I keep them in the back of my mind.
The buzzards begin to draw closer, whirling around in a swirl of black feathers. They melt into each other with a loud rustling and the stark white shape of a longhorn skull grows from out of the feathery swarm. “Howdy, I’m new around these parts. Thought I’d meet the neighbors.”
I groan inwardly. I turn around and smile,
”Hello. Who may you be? And what brings you to Idris?”
The swarm of vulture feathers undulates slightly but stays in place. “I’m just a desert god from out in the Badlands. Idris, is that what you call this little town of yours?”
“That’s what they call this entire country.” I look out at the town proudly,
”I set the groundwork. They did the rest. Little Nephilim.”
Herionidus sits in a hollow in his great tree, caring for a small sprout. It has a thin green stem and delicate leaves, and it has three buds that look ready to blossom at any moment. The deathbloom is almost fully grown.
A tall, thin figure in a sandy poncho strides by. His head is the skull of a longhorn and he looks over your huge tree silently.
I observe the town at work from the top of the pillar, not on a throne, not from some fancy divan, but standing. I stand and watch carefully.
You hear the heavy flap of wings. The dark shapes of buzzards circle you from above.
I eye the creatures carefully. After a few moments, I let them continue to circle. I keep them in the back of my mind.
The buzzards begin to draw closer, whirling around in a swirl of black feathers. They melt into each other with a loud rustling and the stark white shape of a longhorn skull grows from out of the feathery swarm. “Howdy, I’m new around these parts. Thought I’d meet the neighbors.”
I groan inwardly. I turn around and smile,
”Hello. Who may you be? And what brings you to Idris?”
The swarm of vulture feathers undulates slightly but stays in place. “I’m just a desert god from out in the Badlands. Idris, is that what you call this little town of yours?”
“That’s what they call this entire country.” I look out at the town proudly,
”I set the groundwork. They did the rest. Little Nephilim.”
“Nephilim? Those your folk down there? Mighty fine town they’ve built.”
Herionidus sits in a hollow in his great tree, caring for a small sprout. It has a thin green stem and delicate leaves, and it has three buds that look ready to blossom at any moment. The deathbloom is almost fully grown.
A tall, thin figure in a sandy poncho strides by. His head is the skull of a longhorn and he looks over your huge tree silently.
I observe the town at work from the top of the pillar, not on a throne, not from some fancy divan, but standing. I stand and watch carefully.
You hear the heavy flap of wings. The dark shapes of buzzards circle you from above.
I eye the creatures carefully. After a few moments, I let them continue to circle. I keep them in the back of my mind.
The buzzards begin to draw closer, whirling around in a swirl of black feathers. They melt into each other with a loud rustling and the stark white shape of a longhorn skull grows from out of the feathery swarm. “Howdy, I’m new around these parts. Thought I’d meet the neighbors.”
I groan inwardly. I turn around and smile,
”Hello. Who may you be? And what brings you to Idris?”
The swarm of vulture feathers undulates slightly but stays in place. “I’m just a desert god from out in the Badlands. Idris, is that what you call this little town of yours?”
“That’s what they call this entire country.” I look out at the town proudly,
”I set the groundwork. They did the rest. Little Nephilim.”
“Nephilim? Those your folk down there? Mighty fine town they’ve built.”
Herionidus sits in a hollow in his great tree, caring for a small sprout. It has a thin green stem and delicate leaves, and it has three buds that look ready to blossom at any moment. The deathbloom is almost fully grown.
A tall, thin figure in a sandy poncho strides by. His head is the skull of a longhorn and he looks over your huge tree silently.
Herionidus looks towards him.
”well hello there!”
Hearing your voice, the skull turns towards you. He tips his wide brimmed hat and approaches.
Herionidus sits in a hollow in his great tree, caring for a small sprout. It has a thin green stem and delicate leaves, and it has three buds that look ready to blossom at any moment. The deathbloom is almost fully grown.
A tall, thin figure in a sandy poncho strides by. His head is the skull of a longhorn and he looks over your huge tree silently.
Herionidus looks towards him.
”well hello there!”
Hearing your voice, the skull turns towards you. He tips his wide brimmed hat and approaches.
I observe the town at work from the top of the pillar, not on a throne, not from some fancy divan, but standing. I stand and watch carefully.
You hear the heavy flap of wings. The dark shapes of buzzards circle you from above.
I eye the creatures carefully. After a few moments, I let them continue to circle. I keep them in the back of my mind.
The buzzards begin to draw closer, whirling around in a swirl of black feathers. They melt into each other with a loud rustling and the stark white shape of a longhorn skull grows from out of the feathery swarm. “Howdy, I’m new around these parts. Thought I’d meet the neighbors.”
I groan inwardly. I turn around and smile,
”Hello. Who may you be? And what brings you to Idris?”
The swarm of vulture feathers undulates slightly but stays in place. “I’m just a desert god from out in the Badlands. Idris, is that what you call this little town of yours?”
“That’s what they call this entire country.” I look out at the town proudly,
”I set the groundwork. They did the rest. Little Nephilim.”
“Nephilim? Those your folk down there? Mighty fine town they’ve built.”
“Sure is.” I look at you,
”say, what brings you to the order domain?”
“That’s what this place is? I don’t mind a little law myself.” Says the skull among the feathery form, “I haven’t spent a lot of time outside my desert. Thought I should get to know some of the folks outside my domain.”
Herionidus sits in a hollow in his great tree, caring for a small sprout. It has a thin green stem and delicate leaves, and it has three buds that look ready to blossom at any moment. The deathbloom is almost fully grown.
A tall, thin figure in a sandy poncho strides by. His head is the skull of a longhorn and he looks over your huge tree silently.
Herionidus looks towards him.
”well hello there!”
Hearing your voice, the skull turns towards you. He tips his wide brimmed hat and approaches.
”Howdy.”
“Are ya new here? You look like you’re new.”
“You could say that. I haven’t spent much time outside of my desert domain. This tree sure is thriving.” He says with his skeletal gaze turned up towards the great branches of the tree.
Herionidus sits in a hollow in his great tree, caring for a small sprout. It has a thin green stem and delicate leaves, and it has three buds that look ready to blossom at any moment. The deathbloom is almost fully grown.
A tall, thin figure in a sandy poncho strides by. His head is the skull of a longhorn and he looks over your huge tree silently.
Herionidus looks towards him.
”well hello there!”
Hearing your voice, the skull turns towards you. He tips his wide brimmed hat and approaches.
”Howdy.”
“Are ya new here? You look like you’re new.”
“You could say that. I haven’t spent much time outside of my desert domain. This tree sure is thriving.” He says with his skeletal gaze turned up towards the great branches of the tree.
“Yep! Oldest living thing here besides humans. Manifested at the same time I did, it’s sorta like my symbol, kinda part of me. Hard to explain. Anyways, I’m Herionidus, local Overgod.”
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(Boreeeed)
I’m Purplyte. Silly little weirdo.
𝐷𝑂𝑁𝑇 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑁𝑇.
𝐴𝐿𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑆 𝐵𝑂𝑅𝐸𝐷
𝐹𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑃𝑀. 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑅𝑃!
The Chosen reaches the top of the dias, and begins using the implement to carve new patterns into their flesh, deep gouges that cauterize as they are carved.
The chanting of the Swarm's followers continues, and the Chosen climbs into the Bowl.
The Swarm drops guts and blood into the bowl, submerging the Chosen...
Kasrik Argentum Stellaris Fiddlesticks the Wizard, Lord of Stars, Master Trickster, and Creator of both the Mosh of Stardust Hornets and Mimiczilla.
"You're never fully dressed without a smile!" >:3
"Honk."
*Freddy? I don't know much about FNAF. Here is a wild domain god.*
A new god is born from the barren land. This new deity looks around at the sandy wasteland and decides there isn't much room for improvement.
The dark forms of buzzards circle high up in the air, watching the god below like angels. A tall human form wanders through the desert causing brittle, thorny vegetation to grow from the dusty footprints of his cowboy boots. A sandy colored poncho is draped over his shoulders and all manner of critters pour out from under it. Lizards as quick as lightning and as thorny as cacti, rattling serpents that slither sideways, racing birds that speed along the sand rather than the through the air, rasping locust and rolling armadillos. Where his head should be, the skull of a longhorn cow wearing a wide-brimmed hat floats.
He stretches a bony hand up to the sun, grabs its light, and pulls a wave of blistering heat down upon his domain.
I observe the town at work from the top of the pillar, not on a throne, not from some fancy divan, but standing. I stand and watch carefully.
I’m Purplyte. Silly little weirdo.
𝐷𝑂𝑁𝑇 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑁𝑇.
𝐴𝐿𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑆 𝐵𝑂𝑅𝐸𝐷
𝐹𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑃𝑀. 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑅𝑃!
You hear the heavy flap of wings. The dark shapes of buzzards circle you from above.
I eye the creatures carefully. After a few moments, I let them continue to circle. I keep them in the back of my mind.
I’m Purplyte. Silly little weirdo.
𝐷𝑂𝑁𝑇 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑁𝑇.
𝐴𝐿𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑆 𝐵𝑂𝑅𝐸𝐷
𝐹𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑃𝑀. 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑅𝑃!
The buzzards begin to draw closer, whirling around in a swirl of black feathers. They melt into each other with a loud rustling and the stark white shape of a longhorn skull grows from out of the feathery swarm.
“Howdy, I’m new around these parts. Thought I’d meet the neighbors.”
I groan inwardly. I turn around and smile,
”Hello. Who may you be? And what brings you to Idris?”
I’m Purplyte. Silly little weirdo.
𝐷𝑂𝑁𝑇 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑁𝑇.
𝐴𝐿𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑆 𝐵𝑂𝑅𝐸𝐷
𝐹𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑃𝑀. 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑅𝑃!
Herionidus sits in a hollow in his great tree, caring for a small sprout. It has a thin green stem and delicate leaves, and it has three buds that look ready to blossom at any moment. The deathbloom is almost fully grown.
The swarm of vulture feathers undulates slightly but stays in place.
“I’m just a desert god from out in the Badlands. Idris, is that what you call this little town of yours?”
“That’s what they call this entire country.” I look out at the town proudly,
”I set the groundwork. They did the rest. Little Nephilim.”
I’m Purplyte. Silly little weirdo.
𝐷𝑂𝑁𝑇 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑁𝑇.
𝐴𝐿𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑆 𝐵𝑂𝑅𝐸𝐷
𝐹𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑃𝑀. 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑅𝑃!
A tall, thin figure in a sandy poncho strides by. His head is the skull of a longhorn and he looks over your huge tree silently.
“Nephilim? Those your folk down there? Mighty fine town they’ve built.”
Herionidus looks towards him.
”well hello there!”
“Sure is.” I look at you,
”say, what brings you to the order domain?”
I’m Purplyte. Silly little weirdo.
𝐷𝑂𝑁𝑇 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑁𝑇.
𝐴𝐿𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑆 𝐵𝑂𝑅𝐸𝐷
𝐹𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑃𝑀. 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑅𝑃!
Hearing your voice, the skull turns towards you. He tips his wide brimmed hat and approaches.
”Howdy.”
“Are ya new here? You look like you’re new.”
“That’s what this place is? I don’t mind a little law myself.” Says the skull among the feathery form, “I haven’t spent a lot of time outside my desert. Thought I should get to know some of the folks outside my domain.”
“You could say that. I haven’t spent much time outside of my desert domain. This tree sure is thriving.” He says with his skeletal gaze turned up towards the great branches of the tree.
“Yep! Oldest living thing here besides humans. Manifested at the same time I did, it’s sorta like my symbol, kinda part of me. Hard to explain. Anyways, I’m Herionidus, local Overgod.”