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Post by Lev on Aug 17, 2015 15:05:54 GMT
Below you'll find descriptions of beings and/or creatures who're of Divine lineage. They may be transient, ethereal, or unidentifiable.. even unconfirmed. The mortal populations refer to them as Firstborn. Current Firstborn[/b] - played by Leb * Arcanus - played by Annasiel * Timore - played by Leb (until further notice) * Ethale - played by Dymion * Thanalia - played by Dymion * Arie'Tal - played by Fang[/font][/ul]
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Post by Lev on Aug 17, 2015 20:35:00 GMT
Azalea**created and played by Leb** Azalea was once just a simple seed, nothing special in particular about it at all. Tussling about the hot wind in the dry world beneath the scorching gaze of Den. It was Sympati’s first compassionate teardrop that fell onto the seed that helped Azalea take root in the dry land. The effect was almost instantaneous. The ground had begun to green with plantlife sprouting all around. Azalea sprouted from the ground her only memory being that of a simple tear that quenched her thirst. She took after Sympati and was filled with pity and compassion not for man, but for the earth. As she was filled with the tears and grace of Sympati, Azalea would share her compassion for the barren lands and breathed life unto them. Grass would burst in patches from the ground with all sorts of little sproutlings and flowers. Trees grew and were bestowed with bountiful fruit. Vines entangled anything in its path bearing its own fruit as well. Many sorts of vegetation took to the ground and all was well. That is until one man began to taint the world. The once pure realm had been defiled by Rudolv Sayre. Azalea, who is connected so closely to the world’s life, felt the perversion. Azalea had more than enough tussles in her time and uses her young appearance to her advantage. When she happens to find herself in a fight she can not back out of she will most likely use anything and everything at her disposal, making her a wild card of sorts. By instinctual habit alone, Azalea manipulates her arms, lengthening them into thorny vines that entwine to form tentacle-like whips. But the Bloodborne King had weakened her. Too corrupted by the world-eater, Azalea would no longer be able to create anything from the land. She was forced to create life herself, from her own body. She took it upon herself to purify the land and would do so at the source within the Kingdom of Etirath. To the public privileged enough to see her, Azalea appears in many ways like a young girl, no more than fourteen. As a child of Sympati she is inherently ageless. Her "skin" is fleshy to the touch, secreting a thin layer of aloe. Gnarled branch-like trichomes reach past her slender shoulders, with small sproutlings of green and yellow leaves. Her lithe body is mostly comprised of condensed roots, sap, vines, aloe vera, and leaves. A mock azalea shrub sprouts around her waist, forming a skirt around her thin trunk-like legs. She wears a string necklace with a vial of deep green liquid, her "blood", and has a small dagger hidden within her "skirt" - coated in her poison - that she acquired some time ago. Appearances Content/neutral: As stated above Frightened: She appears more tree-like, gaining a layer of bark with branches growing out of her back and encircling her Angry: Thorns sprout all over her body as she turns a deep shade of green, with spike-like teeth jutting out of her back and arms Happy: The same as neutral, but with more flowers blooming than usual and a vibrant looking green skin Sad/tired: Pale in color scheme with dormant flowers and shriveled looking leaves Thirsty/hungry: She becomes thinner than normal, drying up and shriveling around the edges with no flowers in her "skirt" Abilities:Body Manipulation - She can grow any plant life from her body, but the amount will consume time. Small flowers, fungi, branches, and vines take only seconds. Anything bigger will take several minutes, up to fifteen minutes for anything large like trees Poison - The mock azaleas growing about her waist can be plucked - it will feel like a pinch as they are a part of her - and used to concoct a paste in which she dips and coats her small dagger. The poison takes time to run its course throughout the body, and a small dose is enough to take down and kill large game. Azalea is immune to plant based poisons. Antidote: The sap that runs through her body or "blood" can counteract plant based poisons, and can be safely consumed in the form of hot tea Regeneration - Regenerating is not instantaneous and requires focus and time. Having a limb cut off, for example. She will feel the pain and can heal two ways from there; reattaching the severed limb, or growing a new one. The severity of the injury changes the method of regeneration, and lengthens the amount of time needed to heal and regrow. Water Absorption - Azalea needs water to sustain herself and can store water within her body for a week before she needs to replenish herself. She is also capable of expelling the stored water for any purpose, such as contamination. If she doesn't have access to water she will wilt, degenerating into her infant seed form until she receives water. Sunlight Absorption - She absorbs sunlight for nutrients and energy she does not receive when "drinking" water. When she receives sunlight daily, the night hours don't impede her activity. On cloudy days she will appear to be down or tired. After several days of no sunlight Azalea will have limited energy, falling into a dormant state until the sun or a substitute/artificial sun wakes her. Floramancer: The ability to create, enhance, and manipulate plant-based life forms. By creating the seed within her, she can manipulate its growth even after it has been disconnected from her body. She would only have to place her hand upon it to give the flora strength, vibrancy and resilience. She has lost her ability to create anything outside of her body at will.
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Post by Lev on Aug 20, 2015 17:48:57 GMT
Arcanus**created and played by Annasiel** “We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?”Many myths tell of a forbidden fruit, a taboo artifact, a clandestine book, some obscure symbol that, when touched, will entrap the soul of the poor, curious mortal forever. However, life is seldom as clean cut as legend, and the consequences are often much more dire. What if I told you this hidden force existed, this thing lusted after by the inquisitive, but cursed to those who seek it? But it isn't an apple or fetish or tome, no. It is a secret. A dreaded whisper spoken once by the lady of fate herself as she realized her existence, a truth so heavy she was forced to make an ear to receive it. One heart, however grand, could not bear the burden alone. And so Udel made Arcanus. An angel, in form, but a custodian in function. The sentence the Divine of Destiny spoke held madness to the point of world breaking. The prison dimension into which Arcanus and his weight were cast unraveled into nonsensical whimsy, a tapestry shorn of its threads and left a tumbled mess upon the floor. The realm was imagination, and its name Sonder. And so it remained shut off from both Void and nature until Udel chose to sow her gift, the prize of dreams to the mortals below. Taking the mess of distorted fibers, nimble fingers weaved a new fabric, still bent by the heaviness of the whisper, and tied it into the minds of the men below. In both waking and sleeping, earthborne soul could touch upon the world of Sonder, and for a short time, handle the madness for their own. "O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?"Perhaps you've seen it. While nestled tightly in bed, bright, playful visions danced in your head. Or maybe a darker sight, twisted demons of your innermost fears. For better or for worse, you have been in this place. Many of these journeys are harmless, constructed to realize desires or envision goals. But some enter Sonder aware of their surroundings, and those are the unlucky few able to find the hidden treasure. Most are caught by Arcanus before any damage is done. Their memories are taken, and they awake with a jerk as if they are falling. The ones who slip through his fingers, the ones who hear the call of the forbidden and seek it out, they are met with a fate worse than death. When the terrible whisper falls on mortal ears, the listener ceases to exist. Pleasant dreams, and see you in the morrow. Don't fear whatever may come at night, for it cannot hurt you if you do not first seek it out. And what I have told you tonight... well, not many know of this story. Some even shun it, despise it, ignore it for all its warnings and truths. It would be better if no one else hears the words I have spoken, but the worms in your grave when you meet your fate. I trust you enough to keep a secret.
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Post by Lev on Aug 25, 2015 17:29:23 GMT
Timore**created and played by BlackNoise** "I am the whisper at the nape of your neck I am the feeling of helplessness I am the the thing you dread the most I am your worst fears come to life Worst of all? I am real." In the beginning, I was there, standing among you humans, thriving in the night, for what could you feel if not fear? Fear of the dark, fear that you would be not but formless clay for all eternity, fear that you would live and die for no reason. When Den illuminated the world, I hid, finding home deep within the earth. However, still I grew stronger, for you had new things to fear. Fear that your worship was not enough, fear that Den would leave you, fear that Den would never give you respite, so much fear. Sympati rained down her pity, seeking to alleviate you of your burdens, but you feared her even more than Den. Is that not ironic, that you fear those whom love you the most? Fear that her pity would cease, that she would turn on you, strike you. Milova saw to it that you turned your eyes away from Den and to that which was around you, but as love did enter, so did even more fear. Oh how I relished that day, for what do you fear more than the fear of never being loved? Even as the fear of Idvesta's vengeance burdened you humans, even as the foolish fear of not hearing Svitani's call for yourselves caused some of you to stay stagnant, neither of these things came close to the fear I wrought among you when Milova poured out her love. Noc, dearest Noc, in her effort to give you rest, she birthed your fear of each other. You fear that your neighbor, a smiling man under Den's light, will turn into a monster and come to kill you while you rest in Noc's gentle embrace. Now, I caused you to act on your fears, and in the shadow of the first night came the first murder. Instead of removing a monster from the world, I helped you create one of yourself. Finally, Udel completed the circle, in giving you a reason to live, she also gave you a reason to kill. No longer would I need to instill fear to cause chaos, you would do it of your own accord. I hide, sneaking about under Noc's shadow, whispering into the ears of men and women, telling them their fears. I don't know what I am, exactly, or why I am. But I do know this. When man heard Svitani's call, all birthed from then on have been born with the knowledge that they must tame this world. I am the same, I look at man, and I see not an equal. I see prey, I see food, and I will feed off their fears until they die, until I am strong enough to consume even the Divines themselves. So fear, you humans, fear and fight and claw your way to the top. Fear til the end of your days, so I may devour you.
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Post by Lev on Sept 12, 2015 21:43:35 GMT
Ethale**created and played by Dymion** Sit still, my children, and I will tell you the legend of how a man became a curse. When the last gift of the Divines was sent upon this world, and the dreams of Udel were new, two brothers were born to a kingdom of men, by the names of Nevan and Ethale. Years passed by, and, steadily, the siblings grew, each becoming more inclined towards a path, one of light, the other of darkness. The eldest by two hours, Nevan would turn towards the prospect of piety, and would become one of Den's chosen, a priest for the Divine of light. But Ethale would find no such sanctum, and instead turned to knowledge on the arts of blood and shadow. The chasm that separated the twins did nothing but grow, each finding the path of the other more strange. And yet, the love Nevan felt for his brother never died, and rather than turn his back on his own flesh and blood, he offered to Ethale the Blessing of Den. The decision would be their downfall. Ethale, now emboldened by the protection of a Divine, delved where no man should, in search of something no mortal should gain. The result: a blight upon his being, that festered and corrupted as pain and agony racked the ambitious mage. A plague whose only relief was the shortened life of the diseased. As he lay in the frozen crypt, deep in the clutches of ice, a rage boiled in his mind, a sense of betrayal growing. There, he cursed the name of Den, the deciever. In that moment, he gained the attention of different Divine. Idvesta, the Avenger, had come, and for the doomed man, he had a deal. "In my name, take the life of Den's Chosen, and to you, I will gift the time of a thousand mortal men. Drink his blood, and never will you age." Bent by the words of the Divine, a corrupted hope began to form in Ethale's heart, and as he left that icy tomb, dark plans grew. Loathing, hate, anguish, and anger had built in the man, and as the sun rose ten days later, the first rays of light would be the only witness of the cruelty caused. The last drops of blood would be illuminated by the early beams as Ethale drained the corpse of Nevan, his brother, in the fulfillment of his side of the deal. In the Temple of Den, the praise of Idvesta was spoken, but as the blood pact was sealed, one more being had a say in the matter. Den cursed the blood of his fallen priest, making it a disease in itself, and as Ethale fled the temple, made the day an enemy of all who carried the blood of Nevan.
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Post by Lev on Jan 15, 2016 2:05:41 GMT
Thanalia**created and played by Dymion** Imagine, mortal, for just a moment, a life where you are despised for your existence, cursed for your purpose, and your very approach is dreaded. This is the burden I must bear. For I, I am death. When loved ones weep and pay their respects, when friends mourn and anguish burns the heart, it is I who must tear away soul from corpse, to free you from an everlasting, decomposing crypt, and carry you to the other side. It is a thankless task, to guide the dead to the place of rebirth. But it must be done, and so, I live, when all others pass. I am a child of the machinations of terror, born from the first murder inspired by He Who Embodies Fear. And my first sight was the agony of The First To Pass. In my mercy, I showed him the way to rebirth, a path I knew without knowledge, and so, I began my purpose. I can still recall the feel as his spirit threaded between my fingers, the flow of memory as we traveled away. It is a sensation I knew day after day, moon after moon, year after year. Each being I set on the shores of the other side brought content. But as time trickled by, I began to crave more, and wished to know... knowledge. A shadow of myself was left to fill the task, a hollow shell of me doing as I had done. While I, I explored. Across earth and sky, I traversed the world, seeking to know. And so I learned the hatred of mortal for my task, the anguish caused by my purpose. I told what I knew, that to pass was to be free and reborn, but they wished not to know. They remained adamant. I was a darkness, a blight upon their existence. Life was their greatest gift. I then knew the dread of man. And yet, it was not towards me. No, they despised me for the actions of another, one who caused mortals to murder. He Who Embodies Fear. I then began my quest, to learn if the monster in the dark was truly my creator. After many years, I knew the knowledge that he was not. He Who Provides Night, the giver of peace and rest, had watched as He Who Embodies Fear worked his machinations, and upon witnessing the act of fear, hate, and despair, wished to provide reprieve to the mortal soul. A peace from life. And so, he weaved the fabrics that made me, casting his servant upon the earth so that she may guide those who passed to the other side. I was born. And I now continue that purpose, my many shadows traversing the world so mortals may again know reprieve before rebirth. I am death, mortal. And though you fear me, I am your peace.
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Post by Lev on Jan 24, 2016 3:39:08 GMT
Arie’Tal **created and played by Fang**
Since the birth of the mortals combat has ever been an integral part of their lives. From the first man to club another over the head to the first sword that was ever produced, the fragility of life has ever been compounded by the thrill and the pursuit of fighting for whatever reason.
Idvesta delighted in the conflicts of mortals, their ephemeral lives so easily crushed and rendered useless to Den. She reveled in their battles so much so that a plot began to form in her, one that which she could not carry out on her own. Thus she sought out the assistance of one of her fellow Divines, though which she would entreat took contemplation. Finally she settled upon her Sister of Fate, and relayed her idea in full. Udel listened, and though her reasoning was far different from that of Divine Vengeance, she agreed to assist Idvesta in her plan that could destroy all mortals with the stipulation that it not be enacted unless the corporeal posed a legitimate threat to the existence of the Divine.
They set to work constructing their vessel, a construct meant to absorb the mortals’ knowledge and skills in combat and utilize them as a perfect counter to the physical ways. The first body was made of stone, heavy and blunt, and was sent down to test the humans in a small skirmish. Despite the life which Udel and Idvesta had instilled within the golem it stood stock still and was promptly destroyed by the battling mortals. Nothing was learned, and nothing was gained.
Again the Divines of Destiny and Vengeance set to work, this time collecting dust and molding it into a similar container to the first. Again it was sent down into a petty squabble, and once more it was defeated without any hint of the purpose for which it was intended. So the pattern went for several decades, thousands of forms being created and destroyed with no progress to be spoken of. Idvesta raged against their failure, cursing the mortals and damning their souls. It was these curses which granted Udel clarity.
Both Divines waited patiently as they collected the traces of ether left behind by the fallen dead, carefully choosing those which were slain in battle and setting the energy aside for their collection. Once enough of their material was gathered they set to work, molding, twisting, and constructing together one final form for their creation.
Once finished Udel cast the creation down in the midst of a battle, testing it as had so many other vessels been tested before. Corporal blade passed through the creation, rendered useless by its ethereal nature. The vessel mimicked the mortal fighters, but was rendered just as useless for the same cause. Idvesta, though pleased that this version seemed capable of housing the material skill, was unhappy with the ineffectiveness of the body of souls. In a moment of inspiration she reached down, gathering the leaves, grasses, and other miscellaneous materials upon the battlefield and gathered them to the formless being, creating a makeshift body reminiscent of Den’s creations.
With this new body the container ravaged the humans, learning quickly their skills, strengths, and abilities and turning them against the forces that faced it without risk of death by injury. After the battle ended the Divines of Vengeance and Destiny proudly brought their creation back to them and assessed its progress more thoroughly. As they did so the physical form which Idvesta had created for the vessel fell away, leaving its true composition of energy behind. Brief disappointment flickered across both Divines’ faces as the vessel looked at the refuse around its feet slowly. In a whirlwind the materials spun around it, reattaching and forming into a slightly different shape than before. Idvesta and Udel questioned which had formed the new physical manifestation, but it was their child who answered.
“We created this form, mothers. A physical body is necessary for us to fulfill our purpose.”
Both Divines danced with joy at the success that they had accomplished, but both knew that it was only the beginning. Mortals, in their short lives, were constantly expanding their skills and abilities, and so the vessel had much more to learn.
For thousands of years it was sent down to participate in both single combat and grand battles against the most talented of warriors. An identity formed, compiled of remnants of all of the combatants faced, which named itself Arie’Tal. As Arie’Tal battled the Divines repaired the failed attempts that came before it, setting them aside for their final plan should it be needed. Though initially Idvesta had sought to use the vessels as a tool to utterly destroy the mortals, Udel again specified that her assistance relied upon the criteria that it not be used until they posed a threat to Divine existence.
That day came sooner than expected in the form of a conquering blood mage who took over the entirety of Etirath and tainted the Worldblood. Before Arie’Tal could be deployed, however, the seven Divines, five of which were unaware of the true purpose of its existence, came together to create a response. Theolandra, as the Godchild was called, became the first action used against the threat that was Sayre, and Arie’Tal was kept hidden as the original failsafe against humanity unless the Child of Divinity should fail. But fail she did not and the Firstborn of Combat continued its collection of skills without knowledge of what it truly was.
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