The Crown’s conscience is drifting throughout the desert, manifesting in an invisible eldritch eye.
the red festival continues, and one of the vampires is scaling the cliff, to get a view of all of what is outside the blood soaked valley.
Aemulus is slithering its way closer to the entrance to and from the underworld, ready to enter the surface once the time is right.
more chaos has erupted in the city of order: The same flock of crows that feasted on the cow corpses a day or two ago have gotten larger and slightly monstrous. The largest among them, around 3 feet tall and with a wingspan of several feet, has four eyes instead of two. They’re perched in small groups close together throughout the city, and the murder meets up every few hours in a large group of around 50 of them. They’re slowly mutating, but for now they are simply normal crows… mostly.
Happy Chaos clones are moving throughout the city, searching for answers or greater information.
After a while, one of them finds a smaller one of the crows slowly pecking a symbol into the stone wall of a building. It’s a spiral with lines slowly descending inwards, with a dot or an eye at the very center. Next to it is a dead rat it’s killed, and it’s beak is stained with its blood.
The clone creates a stone trap around the crow and informs the hive mind. Investigating the symbol.
The crow squawks and tries pecking at the trap, chipping away at it slowly.
the symbol actually gets carved deeper and deeper into the rock the closer to the center of the spiral it is. It seems to resemble something… like a staircase.
The clone decreases the size of the box. He rubs his chin in thought and has the hive mind look for more of the symbol.
They find three more examples of the symbol throughout the city: one inscribed right next to a sewer grate, another in a charred piece of firewood right outside someone’s home, and one inscribed into the palm of a corpse yet to be buried: the shopkeeper that was recently murdered by one of two sisters, although they show no signs of injury.
The Crown’s conscience is drifting throughout the desert, manifesting in an invisible eldritch eye.
the red festival continues, and one of the vampires is scaling the cliff, to get a view of all of what is outside the blood soaked valley.
Aemulus is slithering its way closer to the entrance to and from the underworld, ready to enter the surface once the time is right.
more chaos has erupted in the city of order: The same flock of crows that feasted on the cow corpses a day or two ago have gotten larger and slightly monstrous. The largest among them, around 3 feet tall and with a wingspan of several feet, has four eyes instead of two. They’re perched in small groups close together throughout the city, and the murder meets up every few hours in a large group of around 50 of them. They’re slowly mutating, but for now they are simply normal crows… mostly.
Happy Chaos clones are moving throughout the city, searching for answers or greater information.
After a while, one of them finds a smaller one of the crows slowly pecking a symbol into the stone wall of a building. It’s a spiral with lines slowly descending inwards, with a dot or an eye at the very center. Next to it is a dead rat it’s killed, and it’s beak is stained with its blood.
The clone creates a stone trap around the crow and informs the hive mind. Investigating the symbol.
The crow squawks and tries pecking at the trap, chipping away at it slowly.
the symbol actually gets carved deeper and deeper into the rock the closer to the center of the spiral it is. It seems to resemble something… like a staircase.
The clone decreases the size of the box. He rubs his chin in thought and has the hive mind look for more of the symbol.
They find three more examples of the symbol throughout the city: one inscribed right next to a sewer grate, another in a charred piece of firewood right outside someone’s home, and one inscribed into the palm of a corpse yet to be buried: the shopkeeper that was recently murdered by one of two sisters, although they show no signs of injury.
The original Happy Chaos notes this and heads to the T.O.M.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
The Crown’s conscience is drifting throughout the desert, manifesting in an invisible eldritch eye.
the red festival continues, and one of the vampires is scaling the cliff, to get a view of all of what is outside the blood soaked valley.
Aemulus is slithering its way closer to the entrance to and from the underworld, ready to enter the surface once the time is right.
more chaos has erupted in the city of order: The same flock of crows that feasted on the cow corpses a day or two ago have gotten larger and slightly monstrous. The largest among them, around 3 feet tall and with a wingspan of several feet, has four eyes instead of two. They’re perched in small groups close together throughout the city, and the murder meets up every few hours in a large group of around 50 of them. They’re slowly mutating, but for now they are simply normal crows… mostly.
Happy Chaos clones are moving throughout the city, searching for answers or greater information.
After a while, one of them finds a smaller one of the crows slowly pecking a symbol into the stone wall of a building. It’s a spiral with lines slowly descending inwards, with a dot or an eye at the very center. Next to it is a dead rat it’s killed, and it’s beak is stained with its blood.
The clone creates a stone trap around the crow and informs the hive mind. Investigating the symbol.
The crow squawks and tries pecking at the trap, chipping away at it slowly.
the symbol actually gets carved deeper and deeper into the rock the closer to the center of the spiral it is. It seems to resemble something… like a staircase.
The clone decreases the size of the box. He rubs his chin in thought and has the hive mind look for more of the symbol.
They find three more examples of the symbol throughout the city: one inscribed right next to a sewer grate, another in a charred piece of firewood right outside someone’s home, and one inscribed into the palm of a corpse yet to be buried: the shopkeeper that was recently murdered by one of two sisters, although they show no signs of injury.
The original Happy Chaos notes this and heads to the T.O.M.
He sees two of the monster crows that flew inside its doors and are currently perched on its many shelves, watching all that passes by.
The Crown’s conscience is drifting throughout the desert, manifesting in an invisible eldritch eye.
the red festival continues, and one of the vampires is scaling the cliff, to get a view of all of what is outside the blood soaked valley.
Aemulus is slithering its way closer to the entrance to and from the underworld, ready to enter the surface once the time is right.
more chaos has erupted in the city of order: The same flock of crows that feasted on the cow corpses a day or two ago have gotten larger and slightly monstrous. The largest among them, around 3 feet tall and with a wingspan of several feet, has four eyes instead of two. They’re perched in small groups close together throughout the city, and the murder meets up every few hours in a large group of around 50 of them. They’re slowly mutating, but for now they are simply normal crows… mostly.
Happy Chaos clones are moving throughout the city, searching for answers or greater information.
After a while, one of them finds a smaller one of the crows slowly pecking a symbol into the stone wall of a building. It’s a spiral with lines slowly descending inwards, with a dot or an eye at the very center. Next to it is a dead rat it’s killed, and it’s beak is stained with its blood.
The clone creates a stone trap around the crow and informs the hive mind. Investigating the symbol.
The crow squawks and tries pecking at the trap, chipping away at it slowly.
the symbol actually gets carved deeper and deeper into the rock the closer to the center of the spiral it is. It seems to resemble something… like a staircase.
The clone decreases the size of the box. He rubs his chin in thought and has the hive mind look for more of the symbol.
They find three more examples of the symbol throughout the city: one inscribed right next to a sewer grate, another in a charred piece of firewood right outside someone’s home, and one inscribed into the palm of a corpse yet to be buried: the shopkeeper that was recently murdered by one of two sisters, although they show no signs of injury.
The original Happy Chaos notes this and heads to the T.O.M.
He sees two of the monster crows that flew inside its doors and are currently perched on its many shelves, watching all that passes by.
Happy completely ignores them because he lacks the power to do much. He eventually tells some guards about it.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
One of the guards tries to shoo the large crows, but they just fly to a higher part of the temple. One of them grabs a book from a shelf and perches with it, pecking at it with its beak.
I see. If Crotalus is indeed up to something it is not my place to disclose that, as he is now the king that succeeded Herionidus, and it is simply against my nature to betray my former bearer’s legacy. I will neither confirm nor deny he is seeking to cause chaos within your walls.
"When he returns from what he is doing, ask him to meet with me here."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hello! I am a perfectly sane gibberer. Hi! :D
Locations are dead, the Temple of Potassium has fallen but its ideals live on
She seems a little befuddled. "You're standing on it, good sir! The Iterator is the first of hopefully many to come. Structures that double as computers and homes for us. They will calculate ways to improve our lives!"
His famished face looks incredulous and then disgusted, "Well I never... You really entrust your livelihood to these newfangled machines of yorn? Let me ask you something. Is your life really improved if you ain't the one that done the improving? How're you ever gonna git learned your lessons if something else is taking out the challenges?" He spits dry, dusty spin on the ground. Somehow even this man's spit is dry.
She seems used to people saying things like this, as many have doubted the groups goals would work out very well. "Yes, we do have trusts. We will live our lives, and there will be challenges. In the meantime, our creations will aid us, and help us. We made them after all, that was definitely a challenge. We're not even really finished yet. The idea is... progression. We want to progress and progress until we can't anymore. And once we get to the point... well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it!" She smiles again.
A sour expression stains his withered face, "Ain't no good in this. Where's the brutal honesty of the barren land? You try to make a system so perfect you won't have to be good and it'll come crashing down. I allow that y'all need the blessing of a curse. Can't throw a stone without hitting an overflowing cornucopia or a stream of water around these parts. Too much green." He mutters as he kicks the lush earth with a dusty cowboy boot, "What's the value of an oasis if the whole earth is green and wet?"
*Is there air conditioning here?*
*in some of the homes there is a form of it, yes*
"Mister, we ARE the oasis! Have some joy from that! Or, if you despise our home, then feel free to leave. We tried to show you good hospitality." She huffs, leaning on a gardening tool.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
⌜╔═════════════The Board══════════════╗⌝
...and started me on my way into my next chapter in life...
Back at the floating temple of the Snow Angel, something miraculous has happened. 15,000. 15,000 people now revere and fear the God of Winter since their birth in the mountains. 15,000 devout followers now congregate beneath the temple, in prayer. Many residents of the City of Order notice this- happening right outside their borders, no less- and of course are curious and afraid.
There is a steady decrease in temperature in the air in a 50-mile radius around Sarahphym's monument, as snow begins to flutter down from the accumulating grey clouds overhead. Some of the crops begin to wither. Small animals flee into their burrows and dens, not suited for prolonged exposure to the cold. Some people enter their homes to escape the icy wind.
Sarahphym has ascended to a Tier IV Will- the closest to the title of Overgod they could ever hope to reach. They claim the Famine Domain as their fourth- and possibly final- Domain of influence.
Winter has begun.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
HC is building a watchtower outside of the city. Nearly the size of the Clocktower itself. He is sculpting the shape of the tower to his idea of perfection, which means it is somehow bigger on the inside and impossibly shaped. Clone of himself are constantly going in and out of the building, bringing in everything from food to entertainment.
Back at the floating temple of the Snow Angel, something miraculous has happened. 15,000. 15,000 people now revere and fear the God of Winter since their birth in the mountains. 15,000 devout followers now congregate beneath the temple, in prayer. Many residents of the City of Order notice this- happening right outside their borders, no less- and of course are curious and afraid.
There is a steady decrease in temperature in the air in a 50-mile radius around Sarahphym's monument, as snow begins to flutter down from the accumulating grey clouds overhead. Some of the crops begin to wither. Small animals flee into their burrows and dens, not suited for prolonged exposure to the cold. Some people enter their homes to escape the icy wind.
Sarahphym has ascended to a Tier IV Will- the closest to the title of Overgod they could ever hope to reach. They claim the Famine Domain as their fourth- and possibly final- Domain of influence.
Winter has begun.
Foréir teleports to the middle of the worshippers with a bothered look on his face, only in a 5 meter radius around him is the temperature normal “what is going on?”
I see. If Crotalus is indeed up to something it is not my place to disclose that, as he is now the king that succeeded Herionidus, and it is simply against my nature to betray my former bearer’s legacy. I will neither confirm nor deny he is seeking to cause chaos within your walls.
"When he returns from what he is doing, ask him to meet with me here."
I will. But first, I may ask, what has changed since Herionidus died? I only recollect events from before then and am mostly unaware of present events anywhere but the desert.
Back at the floating temple of the Snow Angel, something miraculous has happened. 15,000. 15,000 people now revere and fear the God of Winter since their birth in the mountains. 15,000 devout followers now congregate beneath the temple, in prayer. Many residents of the City of Order notice this- happening right outside their borders, no less- and of course are curious and afraid.
There is a steady decrease in temperature in the air in a 50-mile radius around Sarahphym's monument, as snow begins to flutter down from the accumulating grey clouds overhead. Some of the crops begin to wither. Small animals flee into their burrows and dens, not suited for prolonged exposure to the cold. Some people enter their homes to escape the icy wind.
Sarahphym has ascended to a Tier IV Will- the closest to the title of Overgod they could ever hope to reach. They claim the Famine Domain as their fourth- and possibly final- Domain of influence.
Winter has begun.
Foréir teleports to the middle of the worshippers with a bothered look on his face, only in a 5 meter radius around him is the temperature normal “what is going on?”
*ominous chanting stops*
One robed man speaks up as the others resume their prayer. "Have you not heard? The Angel of Winter has ascended to the pinnacle of their power! Oh, joyous day!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
HC teleports to the temple of the snow angel. Changing his form to match one of the robed figures as he walks around, his inhuman grin the only recognizable feature he has remaining. He simply walks around with a curious look.
The people of the slightly overgrown superstructure have came to a mutual decision. They decided it might be good to get to know other groups of people nearby, and have dispatched a small company of merchants to head to the City of Order to hopefully establish a trade route, and good relations.
Some of the obvious things they bring with them are exotic plants with unique features, and large reptilian eggs.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
⌜╔═════════════The Board══════════════╗⌝
...and started me on my way into my next chapter in life...
Back at the floating temple of the Snow Angel, something miraculous has happened. 15,000. 15,000 people now revere and fear the God of Winter since their birth in the mountains. 15,000 devout followers now congregate beneath the temple, in prayer. Many residents of the City of Order notice this- happening right outside their borders, no less- and of course are curious and afraid.
There is a steady decrease in temperature in the air in a 50-mile radius around Sarahphym's monument, as snow begins to flutter down from the accumulating grey clouds overhead. Some of the crops begin to wither. Small animals flee into their burrows and dens, not suited for prolonged exposure to the cold. Some people enter their homes to escape the icy wind.
Sarahphym has ascended to a Tier IV Will- the closest to the title of Overgod they could ever hope to reach. They claim the Famine Domain as their fourth- and possibly final- Domain of influence.
Winter has begun.
Foréir teleports to the middle of the worshippers with a bothered look on his face, only in a 5 meter radius around him is the temperature normal “what is going on?”
*ominous chanting stops*
One robed man speaks up as the others resume their prayer. "Have you not heard? The Angel of Winter has ascended to the pinnacle of their power! Oh, joyous day!"
“Winter? How can one be an angel yet preside over winter? But why not say hello.”
The Swarm is writing a letter on an impossibly long scroll of seamless humanoid skin, threatening Macchino with annihilation if he doesn't leave this world.
Macchino is still trying to perfect his ultimate coffee machine, which currently has a minor side effect of disintegrating all ordinary flesh in a 1-mile radius.
They find three more examples of the symbol throughout the city: one inscribed right next to a sewer grate, another in a charred piece of firewood right outside someone’s home, and one inscribed into the palm of a corpse yet to be buried: the shopkeeper that was recently murdered by one of two sisters, although they show no signs of injury.
The original Happy Chaos notes this and heads to the T.O.M.
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
Etiam im librum scribo
He sees two of the monster crows that flew inside its doors and are currently perched on its many shelves, watching all that passes by.
Happy completely ignores them because he lacks the power to do much. He eventually tells some guards about it.
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
Etiam im librum scribo
One of the guards tries to shoo the large crows, but they just fly to a higher part of the temple. One of them grabs a book from a shelf and perches with it, pecking at it with its beak.
*hello*
*hiii*
HC is standing outside of the T.O.M. waiting for his good friend Cogin to return.
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
Etiam im librum scribo
Cogintius is still absent from the T.O.M, talking with the Crown of Herionidus.
Hello! I am a perfectly sane gibberer. Hi! :D
Locations are dead, the Temple of Potassium has fallen but its ideals live on
A mysterious link of chain... (Extended signature). PRAISE JEFF THE EVIL ROOMBA! REALLY cool video.
One of the Warlock Patrons on the forums. Low, low price of your soul, your firstborn child and your liver!
Titles: The Echoing Story Spewer from Drummer, the Endless Maws from Isis, the Mad Murderer from PJ
*in some of the homes there is a form of it, yes*
"Mister, we ARE the oasis! Have some joy from that! Or, if you despise our home, then feel free to leave. We tried to show you good hospitality." She huffs, leaning on a gardening tool.
⌜╔═════════════ The Board ══════════════╗⌝
...and started me on my way into my next chapter in life...
⌞╚════════════ Extended Signature ════════════╝⌟
Back at the floating temple of the Snow Angel, something miraculous has happened. 15,000. 15,000 people now revere and fear the God of Winter since their birth in the mountains. 15,000 devout followers now congregate beneath the temple, in prayer. Many residents of the City of Order notice this- happening right outside their borders, no less- and of course are curious and afraid.
There is a steady decrease in temperature in the air in a 50-mile radius around Sarahphym's monument, as snow begins to flutter down from the accumulating grey clouds overhead. Some of the crops begin to wither. Small animals flee into their burrows and dens, not suited for prolonged exposure to the cold. Some people enter their homes to escape the icy wind.
Sarahphym has ascended to a Tier IV Will- the closest to the title of Overgod they could ever hope to reach. They claim the Famine Domain as their fourth- and possibly final- Domain of influence.
Winter has begun.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
HC is building a watchtower outside of the city. Nearly the size of the Clocktower itself. He is sculpting the shape of the tower to his idea of perfection, which means it is somehow bigger on the inside and impossibly shaped. Clone of himself are constantly going in and out of the building, bringing in everything from food to entertainment.
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
Etiam im librum scribo
Foréir teleports to the middle of the worshippers with a bothered look on his face, only in a 5 meter radius around him is the temperature normal “what is going on?”
Somewhere between a genius and a moron.
I will. But first, I may ask, what has changed since Herionidus died? I only recollect events from before then and am mostly unaware of present events anywhere but the desert.
*ominous chanting stops*
One robed man speaks up as the others resume their prayer. "Have you not heard? The Angel of Winter has ascended to the pinnacle of their power! Oh, joyous day!"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
HC teleports to the temple of the snow angel. Changing his form to match one of the robed figures as he walks around, his inhuman grin the only recognizable feature he has remaining. He simply walks around with a curious look.
What's life without a little war to spice things up? Anyone who worries about the little things should notice the bigger picture.
I am (As drummerboy stated) The master of many faces, The unseen puppeteer, The illumination, & The unnoticed influence.
Favorite games series: Dark Souls. Shirtless Solaire. Best best game series of all time: Paper Mario. Fight me about it.
Etiam im librum scribo
*hello*
the monstrous crows have gotten bigger. Quite a bit bigger. And some of them have red tinted feathers.
the vampires at the red festival are slowly making their way up the wall.
the crown of Slaughter’s conscience is drifting throughout the desert. It takes the form of a dark, mostly invisible, formless presence.
The people of the slightly overgrown superstructure have came to a mutual decision. They decided it might be good to get to know other groups of people nearby, and have dispatched a small company of merchants to head to the City of Order to hopefully establish a trade route, and good relations.
Some of the obvious things they bring with them are exotic plants with unique features, and large reptilian eggs.
⌜╔═════════════ The Board ══════════════╗⌝
...and started me on my way into my next chapter in life...
⌞╚════════════ Extended Signature ════════════╝⌟
“Winter? How can one be an angel yet preside over winter? But why not say hello.”
Somewhere between a genius and a moron.
The Swarm is writing a letter on an impossibly long scroll of seamless humanoid skin, threatening Macchino with annihilation if he doesn't leave this world.
Macchino is still trying to perfect his ultimate coffee machine, which currently has a minor side effect of disintegrating all ordinary flesh in a 1-mile radius.
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."