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Huh?!?! THE EVENT in which the Gods and Soulless die!

TylwythTylwyth
edited December 2015 in Event Scrolls
The atmosphere tenses for an unnervingly long moment - as if the world were holding its breath in anticipation.

Before your vision, the world seems for a moment to move achingly slowly; then it lurches forward, all things becoming a blur as it rushes to regain equilibrium.

The edges of all things become blurred, as if seen through a faint haze of moisture.

Distant murmurs fill your ears, emanating from no clear place, like the memory of whispered words.

It becomes, for a brief moment, difficult to discern the distance between all things - as if the world were being stretched and then released.

You see faint, blurred figures wash past you, their figures devoid of colour - but as soon as you turn to follow them, they fade from view.

Colour drains from all around you, the hues briefly replaced by shades of grey. When it returns, all things seem a little more vibrant.


All of creation shudders: from the Basin of Life to distant Aetherbubbles, the world shakes. The ground quakes from deep beneath and from high above; the very air can be seen to tremble.

And in the distance, from the far depths of the Astral Plane, Kethuru roars.

Estarra the Eternal shimmers into existence, surrounded by shafts of light and shadows. Her eyes 
blaze like twin sapphire suns.

Drunken Master Kalas Malarious, Kitten Avenger shouts, "Way to go Serenwilde."

Estarra's voice shatters the cosmic equilibrium, "Bloody shite! That's impossible. It cannot be!"

Khan Jaamil shouts, "Too impossible.."

Inky spots of darkness appear within the sky. Little by little, they bleed out into the light, 
reaching out with sprawling tendrils until Father Sun's touch upon the world is for naught.

Only once His irresistible power has coated the First World do the tendrils of Almighty Kethuru 
appear: one by one, they tear holes in the fabric of reality and reach out hungrily.

...but He is not alone.

The impossible has happened, the Souless Gods have escaped! Your body freezes as absolute horror 
engulfs you!
A shimmering curtain of multi-coloured light surrounds you for an instant as your wounds are healed 
by divine intervention.

The ground shakes with a thunderous roar, as if all the mountains of Creation were crumbling at once.

Upon the horizon - upon all the horizons - the great amorphous mass of Crazen bubbles over into the 
Basin, a countless army of pseudopods marching forth to consume.

Howling with icy madness, a vast storm consumes the sky from the north, its black tendrils rolling 
forth into the Basin.

The Sea of Despair rolls and boils, towering waves of water and psychic pressure crashing down upon 
its shores.

The vast, twisting tendrils of Illith burst from the chaotic waters, hungrily reaching into the 
firmament above.

Moments later, subsumed by the tsunami of Illith's thrashing, the Balach Swamp collapses in upon 
itself in a torrent of Great Muud.

Sickly sweet, the scent of decay permeates the air beneath a hint of burnt flesh, building to almost 
visible haze of fetidness.

Lacking proper vigil, the Pandimensional Transformix suddenly shatters as the Soulless Nemach slides 
out like a dark stain, congealing into a bulbous, tentacled mass.

All of reality shudders as Estarra the Eternal flares with anger above the Basin, motes of power 
flickering in the atmosphere around Her.

Estarra's voice shatters the cosmic equilibrium, "Not this time, Kethuru! I will destroy you 
Myself!"

A mass of bulbous, malformed eyes and grotesque tentacles shift in the direction of the shout. An 
emotion pulses around it that might be described as pleasure or avarice. In response to the shout, a 
distorted tentacle arches through the air, tearing across the fabric of planes toward Estarra.

Estarra vanishes before Kethuru makes contact, the air folding back on itself as She reappears 
several feet away. Eyes smouldering, She draws tendrils of energy into Her being.

Below, the Basin shifts, an almost water-like blur over the world from Estarra's efforts. You a jolt,
the pull of a chain, as the blur increases.

Estarra directs the energy toward the twisted form of the tentacled horror. Kethuru screams, an 
otherworldly screech of pain. Indignation. Resentment. Madness. The other Soulless join in, the 
sound crescendoing into an incoherent roar.

Your will is suppressed by Divine mandate, making you unable to perform any action.


As quickly as the scream manifested, it fades, with Kethuru turning all seething rage onto Estarra 
in a shout of primal fury, "NOT THIS TIME, CREATRIX. YOU AND THE ELDERS ARE MINE!"

Launching forward in a conglomeration of decaying flesh, Kethuru opens a gaping mouth, and then 
several, in a greedy attack. The other Soulless manifest nearby, in silent support.

Estarra's eyes widen in shock and confusion as the mouths of Kethuru close around Her. "No!" She 
gasps, in one final shout, "This cannot...!"

A brilliant flash of light ignites the sky over the Basin, shuddering across all the planes of 
existence as the Creatrix is consumed. For a moment after it ends, there is only silence.

The Guardian Drachou rises up out of the city of Gaudiguch, his great, prismatic wings raining motes 
of energy down upon the city.

A great cry rises up from the Basin of Life as the Creatrix is destroyed. One by one, the Elder Gods 
shimmer into existence high above.

Arcs of fulminating brilliance surge across the sky as Zvoltz, the Architect returns to mortal 
perception.

A glacial wind carries a sudden swirl of snowflakes across the sky and a bitter chill aches in your 
bones as Jadice, the Frost Queen, rouses from Her meditations and returns to mortal perception.

A velvety indigo mist roils through your surroundings, carrying a soft, intoxicating scent that 
promises dark triumphs and pleasures alike as Drocilla, the Enchantress returns to mortal perception.

The scent of rotting roses fills the air as Viravain, Lady of Thorns manifests in the First World.

The twinkling lights of countless constellations flare visibly within the skies, heralding the 
arrival of the Navigator.

Prismatic light cascades across the firmament as Maylea, Bloom of Serenity manifests before the 
First World.

Your grace is automatically removed.

A hot wind sweeps the Basin, carrying with it the sound of alien chanting as Mysrai, the Black Star 
of Morning turns Her attention to the First World.

Your will is suppressed by Divine mandate, making you unable to perform any action.

The gods unleash a fury of domotheon energies towards the hulking form of Kethuru as His form 
slithers ever further into the material plane. Their attacks fizzle out uselessly against His bulk.

Reality shudders as the other Soulless Ones encroach upon the Basin. The Elders fall into disarray, 
scattering apart as They attempt to evade the grasps of the Soulless.

The form of the Frost Queen winks into existence above the city of Hallifax, Her voice level and 
clear as it rings out across the Basin, "Citizens and friends of My Brothers city, please return 
calmly and quickly. The city will be protected."

A faint harmonic humming begins to emanate from the direction of Hallifax, and perfect lines of 
fractal energy whirl about Jadice, glimmering with silvery light across the firmament. They close 
around the floating city, ensconcing its entire structure in a pale shimmering sphere.

Jadice's voice rings out clearly once more, "I repeat, move quickly to take refuge in My Brother's 
city."

Lazily, one of Illith's twisted tendrils flicks toward the city, puncturing the sphere effortlessly 
and forcing Jadice to fall back into the spires of upper Hallifax.

Determined, the Frost Queen once again rises above the city, and the shimmering sphere flickers back 
into partial existence. "Fear not, shards. The situation remains under contr-"

More purposefully this time, the tendril whips toward Jadice Herself, casting Her violently into the 
roiling turbulence of the Inner Sea. The protective sphere glimmers feebly once more before growing 
dark.

The scent of rot grows heavy on the breeze, and the Forests shake as the Soulless Nemach manifests, 
trees beginning to crumble and fall under the weight of tainted spores.

Viravain manifests above the Forest of Glomdoring, Her eyes shining with cold, wintry light, and Her 
scythe raised high.

Effervescent whispers dance through your senses, filling your mind with the soft, feathery voice of 
Viravain as Her voice carries on the winds, "How dare you attack My Perfect forest? You will pay! 
You will..."

The trees themselves moan and shift, bark sloughing away from a rotten, pestilent interior filled 
with writhing worms. With preternatural speed, they lash upwards from the Forest, seizing Viravain 
in their grasp. With a scream of rage, She brings down Her Scythe again and again.

Effervescent whispers dance through your senses, filling your mind with the soft, feathery voice of 
Viravain as Her voice carries on the winds, "Brother, where are You? Brother, awaken!"

As Viravain continues to scream, further tendrils reach for Her, and the rot begins to seethe 
beneath Her skin as She is yanked downwards into the darkness of the Wyrden Wood.

Effervescent whispers dance through your senses, filling your mind with the soft, feathery voice of 
Viravain as Her voice carries on the winds, "BROTHER!"

The Glomdoring quakes and writhes as a last, despairing scream echoes up from the Soulless-eaten 
forest.

As the world begins to shake and unravel, an echoing, alien scream shakes Creation as Mysrai, the 
Black Star of Morning arcs across the sky in a shining banner of copper and scarlet light, Her very 
passage warping the firmament. Beneath Her passage, the Basin moans, beginning to warp and change.

The glittering dome of light surrounding New Celest shimmers with power as the star high above 
sparkles ever brighter.

A crackling, searing blaze of lightning strikes downwards, impaling the Goddess on a spear of 
fulminating energies.

Mysrai screams, transfixed by lightning, and Her skin, smooth and ebon, forms brilliant cracks and 
begins to buckle and warp.

The smell of decay assaults your nostrils.

Zvoltz, the Father of Storms descends from above, lightning clasped in His hand, and His silver 
robes snapping in gales of ozone-scented wind.

The skin of the Black Star of Morning explodes outwards, decimating the spear and blasting Zvoltz 
backwards. When the explosion clears, a withered, scarred, form wreathed in sickly ebon light floats 
in the sky.

Arcs of icy white energy blaze across the firmament as Zvoltz, the Architect shouts, "Enough! Your 
foolishness has doomed this world! It is fitting that Your true form be exposed, Mysrai! Gaze upon 
your Goddess, mortals! Gaze, and..."

Reality shifts, the sky tinging into whispering veils of changing paradigms as the weirdly-echoing 
voice of Mysrai intones, "Enough! It is more than enough, My Brother! At last, You will pay for all 
You have done!"

The Goddess convulses, Her withered form fading into nothingness even as a lance of copper light 
shoots from Her heart to impale Zvoltz.

Arcs of icy white energy blaze across the firmament as Zvoltz, the Architect shouts, "No! No, You 
cannot...!"

The form of the Father of Storms hangs in midair above the fading distortion that was Mysrai for a 
split second - and then, He simply implodes with a crackling of energies, His figure disintegrating 
and falling apart.

One last mingled scream rings throughout the Basin.

Enormous swarms of dark, serpentine creatures appear suddenly within the Inner Sea, diving through 
the sky-blue waves. They hiss and howl in the air, before sinking beneath the waves and vanishing 
altogether from sight, leaving a terrible silence in their wake.

Dripping water echoes in the distance.

The horrifying maw of a great serpent, Illith, the Leviathan, rears out from the waters, Her body 
covered with swarms of dark, serpentine creatures burrowing into Her scaled skin. She thrashes 
violently in the waters, creating vast tidal waves that crash into the docks of New Celest, 
threatening to devastate the city with their intensity.

The divine voice of Darvellan, the Navigator reverberates powerfully, "Away you foul fiend!"

Darvellan coaleses above the Leviathan in a flurry of starlight and launches a vehement assault that 
distracts and confuses Illith, seeking to draw Her away. He dashes and dances across the sky, 
vanishing into starlit mist whenever one of the tentacles strikes at Him, only to reappear elsewhere 
and sear Her body from behind.

Fray, a newbie in the Free Forest of Glomdoring, has left Lusternia.

Spotting a golden opportunity, Drocilla, the Enchantress ascends to the tumultuous heavens which 
brighten at Her approach, lavender eyes fixed upon New Celest while the Navigator is engaged in 
battle with Illith. A lavender mask materialises in Her hands and She dons it with a wicked ruby 
smirk while the darkness swathes Her figure.

Carried upon a whirlwind of ululating shadows, the Dread Enchantress descends upon New Celest with a 
dissonant, ear-splitting Song at Her lips.

The beacons of New Celest light up as bright beams shoot out of them to form nine different 
spotlights which sweep about the city.

The sky above New Celest ripples as reality strains under the pressure of Her Song, clouds 
smouldering with forked violet bolts of lightning that strike at the city haphazardly. Sudden 
darkness falls upon the terrorized city as the beacons explode and fade and all that remains is the 
Song that burrows into the brain and threatens to tears sanity apart...

Seeing His city in dire need, the Navigator casts a blanket plucked out of the very sky itself at 
Illith, letting Her struggle beneath the starry nightsky, and rushes off to New Celest. Hazy mists 
obscure the singing form of Drocilla, the Dread Enchantress as He approaches, breaking Her focus.

The Gods and the Goddess vanish in a blur of starlit mist and black shadows which streak across the 
sky, twirling in a deathly dance of wailing souls and the thrum of the stars. Finally, They crash 
into Mount Seirode where Drocilla looms victorious over Darvellan's ravaged figure which 
disintegrates into twinkling mist.

With a look that verges on the insane, Drocilla turns Her masked form towards New Celest again. Her 
golden hair fades to a pale, straw blonde as She looks on in silence, the shadows about Her form 
stilling as if in preparation to pounce. The mask upon Her face shatters, revealing a face with a 
sallow complexion.

The Goddess' lips part but no sound comes out and She takes a knee, then another, and exhales Her 
final breath which carries a chilling warning, "Zenos...". Just then the barely substantial form of 
Zenos materialises behind Her, His filmy tendrils wrapped about Her form tightly as He saps the last 
of Her essence and Voice, and casts Her aside like a broken doll.

The icy storm washes over the Silent Death and obscures Him from sight, leaving behind a sky that 
burns blood red as the Eye of Zenos settles upon Creation once more.

Shadows swirl around your arm as the Fingerblade of dha'Wyrden-cree digs itself more painfully into 
your finger.

The shadowed form of the Silent Lord manifests amidst the chaos, His eyes narrowing as He looks 
around Him. Thus focused, He does not notice the ripple in reality behind Him as the barely 
substantial form of Zenos begins to reach for Him.

Sweeping across the heavens on a gentle breeze, the serene voice of Maylea echoes, "No!"

Your will is suppressed by Divine mandate, making you unable to perform any action.

Shards of light break into being around Nocht, casting Him from Zenos's reach. In His place, the 
radiant form of the Bloom of Serenity manifests, face contorted in both horror and determination.

Seemingly content to feast on different prey, Zenos's filmy tendrils wrap around Maylea's body and 
imprison Her with the fell swoop that was meant for another.

Tears fill the Serene Goddess's eyes as Her form begins to lose its lustre, the prismatic aura about 
Her losing colour after colour as Zenos saps Her essence - but She makes no attempt to escape His 
insubstantial embrace, golden gaze locked on the Silent Lord.

Sweeping across the heavens on a gentle breeze, the serene voice of Maylea echoes, "It's alright. 
Everything is going to be alr-."

Blue fades from Maylea's form last of all, Her final words proving to be naught but a futile, 
desperate hope.

Nocht uses the distraction to widen the distance between Himself and Zenos. He turns to watch, 
unmoved, as the Bloom of Serenity is consumed.

An agonized scream pierces the air, and the Silent Lord's gaze immediately snaps to the distance 
where Crazen, the Greedy tears across the landscape. Within Crazen's twisting flesh, the 
manifestation of Mother Night struggles, screaming as she is pulled down.

The soft, hollow voice of Nocht, the Silent resounds within your mind as His words echo through the 
aether, "No! My Night!"

In an instant, Nocht rushes towards the Soulless God, His form becoming a streak of pitch black 
against the chaotic skies. Just a moment before reaching Mother Night, He comes to a dead stop, eyes 
wide with horror at His sudden revelation. He hesitates only a second, but that's all it takes. The 
figure of Mother Night latches on to His wrist, distending and bulging to reveal itself as just 
another appendage of the Greedy.

The Silent Lord flails, bursts of shadow and wyrden flame hurled uselessly against the Soulless God 
as its flesh drags Him ever closer. The last glimpse of Nocht is His face twisted into a silent 
scream as He is pulled beneath the rolling mounds of flesh, absorbed by Crazen.

Chaos reigns. The remaining Elder Gods make a strong push against the Soulless, as if reaching for 
one last chance at victory - but Their forms are consumed by the neverending hunger of Their 
shadowed counterparts.

Almighty Kethuru lets out a roar that shakes the foundations of the world, His triumph unmistakeable.

Horror begins to clutch at your throat, at your gut, at your very soul. They have won. The future 
that mortals once prevented will come to pass after all. You have failed.

Your will is suppressed by Divine mandate, making you unable to perform any action.

But then, light: a crack that splits the whole of the heavens from one horizon to the other. Golden 
radiance spills forth from it, illuminating the whole of the Basin with its power.

Six almighty forms appear within the rift, gleaming with immortal power. At their head flies a 
fatherly God held aloft by gleaming ethereal wings. At His side hovers a hooded figure wreathed in 
shadows, Their details indiscernible but Their power evident.

Flanking them stand two impossibly beautiful figures: one small and willowy, Her pastel-hued hair 
bedecked with flowers; the other tall, voluptuous and wreathed in a corona of indigo flames.

Finally, the group is edged by two imposing Gods Whose forms create huge silhouettes against the 
firmament. The first is unmistakably a God, and yet seems to have been crafted from clockwork and 
metal. The second, by contrast, is the epitome of strength, His muscular form dominating even 
alongside the might of the Soulless Gods.

A golden sheen ripples across the skies as Aelish, the Creator intones, "Fear not, inhabitants of 
the Basin of Life, I am the Creator and these fouls beasts will fall to My Holy Word."

A mass of bulbous, malformed eyes traces the ascent of the winged figure with evident hunger. 
Wreathed in the halo of His ethereal wings, Aelish stares down the eyes as silence rings across 
Creation.

Tentacles rip through the sky, through reality, tearing in from different planes as they launch at 
Aelish who watches patiently. Rising both hands to the skies, He incants and conjures up a wall of 
fire that ripples outwards, searing the tentacles and raining ash upon the Basin.

A primal howl echoes from all around as Kethuru screeches in agony, His many eyes blinking and 
vanishing. He rips through reality behind Aelish, the God but a speck of light against His massive 
dark form, and thunders down upon Him with many gaping mouths.

Aelish turns calmly, hands at the ready, and sends blinding bolts of light at the Almighty, 
destroying mouth after mouth. Finally, a gargantuan mouth gapes out of the very sky and clamps down 
on Aelish, snuffing out the light. The victory is short-lived as bursts of light erupt all over 
Kethuru's form, tearing Him from the inside.

A golden sheen ripples across the skies as Aelish, the Creator intones, "I erase you from Creation, 
foul beast, My Holy Word is final!"

A burst of incandescent light blinds you as Kethuru explodes with a final roar that rings throughout 
every plane and in every mind. When the light fades, the Creator hovers in the sky alone.

Where the bulk of Great Muud casts a huge shadow over the heavens, ripples of indigo flame begin to 
coalesce into being. Beside His hulking form, the astonishingly perfect form of the Everlasting 
Beauty manifests.

Indigo flame cascades across the firmament as the voice of Serane, the Everlasting Beauty echoes, 
"Nature has granted you nothing, creature. There is naught in you but Nightmares."

The perfect Goddess raises a hand almost idly, and the indigo flames twitch as if in reply: they 
surge forward like a cresting wave at the slightest twitch of Her fingers. As they lash into Muud's 
form, He lets out a roar of rage that shakes the foundations of the world.

Indigo flame cascades across the firmament as the voice of Serane, the Everlasting Beauty echoes, 
"Now, darling. Let us not be troublesome about this."


Flying nimbly to one side as the Soulless strikes at Her, Serane turns in the air and lifts Her arms 
aloft. The very seas leap to Her command, sending up a geyser strong enough to cast Him aside before 
drifting back to their beds.

The distraction gives Her time to unleash a fourfold assault: thorned vines surge forth from Her 
arms, indigo flames wash over Muud on forceful winds, and the last of the water cast up from the 
seas knits into a cord that binds Him so hard that He cannot escape.

Indigo flame cascades across the firmament as the voice of Serane, the Everlasting Beauty echoes, 
"Begone, creature, and trouble Nature's realm no longer."

Within the onslaught of the four elements, the form of Great Muud implodes, the detritus of His 
destruction hunted mercilessly by the indigo flames.

Finished with His feast upon Glomdoring, the foul Nemach becomes a stain of darkness once more, 
sliding over like tar toward the northern Serenwilde. Manifesting as a tentacled mass, He readies 
himself to sate His hunger, as the willowy, small Goddess bedecked with blooms appears through the 
canopies.

Melodious like the sweet music of birdsong, the Lady of Flowers echoes, "No, no, no. These are MY 
woods. You shall tend here no longer."

With an unearthly scream, the Goddess gestures wildly at the woods, which spring to life with sudden 
forcefulness. Branches, roots, leaves rage against the bulbous form of Nemach, slicing through His 
fatness and flesh as dribbling ichor spews upon the ground. The Soulless roars, terror filling His 
eyes.

Again, She gestures, this time to the ground as blooms with petals, becoming a veritable floral 
legion. Their perfume is an intoxicating mixture of scents, and coerced by a third flick of the hand 
by the Goddess, they spew forth a thick, yellow cloud of pollen which swirls unceasingly around the 
Soulless God. This vortex of pollen burns away at the rubbery skin of Nemach as it touches Him, 
forcing His body to collide harshly onto the ground.

Melodious like the sweet music of birdsong, the Lady of Flowers echoes, "Yes, yes, yessss! My sweet 
children, feast on the hulk of that which wishes to claim you. Hunger on his hunger."

And then, She calls into the aether, a song of perfect harmony and pitch that shakes the foundation 
of the sky. From the woods of Serenwilde, from the far reaches of Glomdoring, from elsewhere across 
the land, the rapturous response of a choir of birds shriek and crow. And they all take flight, a 
multitude of birds soaring through the air before they swoop and viciously dive into the Soulless's 
blob of a body. Peck, peck, peck they cut and carve and swipe at His revolting form, spewing more 
and more of the Soulless' foul blood to stream and feed the soil.

With wild glee, the Goddess claps appreciatively as the Soulless gurgles a dying breath, His body 
disintegrating into naught but fertilizer.

With the Navigator perished, the entrapment about Illith weakens enough for her to break through 
with ease, flailing about to get her bearings as she does so.

Reverberating about the First World, a skull-rattling battlecry erupts as Karagash, the Iron God, 
descends upon Illith from an indiscernible height. Wielding both His axe and His two-pronged sword, 
He thrusts both deep into Illith upon impact.

The duo descend into the Inner Sea, causing the waters to broil with the dark colouring of Illith's 
blood.

Letting loose a cry of victory, the Iron God departs from the Inner Sea, leaving the Soulless' 
corpse to sink below and be eaten by the creatures within. Not even looking behind Him, Karagash 
heads eastward, for Magnagora.

As the Eye of Zenos descends upon the Basin of Life, the inky tendrils of the Kigaru wind billows 
across the land with hurricane force.

Beneath the Eye, at the centre of the whirling storm, the massive mechanical God materialises with 
the deafening whirring of gears.

Wispy fingers extend from Zenos to hungrily embrace the dominating clockwork being, but the grinding 
of gears precedes the release of a sudden surge of electricity across the form of the God, and the 
probing fingers are forced away with a jolt.

A mechanical whirring fills the air as Sciomore, the Logician intones, "You have made a grave error. 
The inconvenience of your existence will be rectified at once."
-
Zenos redoubles his efforts to consume the God. In response, the numerous tubes covering the 
clockwork form release a sudden wave of blinding energy that ripples out from His body, annihilating 
much of the insubstantial form of the Soulless God.

The God's single eye begins to shimmer and swirl with coruscating energies as He turns towards the 
Eye of Zenos as the Soulless attempts to escape back into the firmament. After a moment, the 
gathered power erupts forth in a searing beam, tearing through Zenos with a deafening crack of 
thunder. By the time the light finally subsides, Zenos is gone and the mechanical being shimmers 
before vanishing from sight.

Amidst the commotion, the tentacles of Crazen snap upward, ensnaring the hovering form of Frai, the 
Hooded One.

As the tentacle draws Her toward His massive body, Frai reaches down to grasp the tentacle, power 
flaring around Her form.

Amid a dark susurrus, the voice of Frai, the Hooded One whispers, "No, Crazen, that will not be so. 
I know Your secret."

The form of Frai dissolves into tendrils of smoke that drift away from Crazen, down the Old Imperial 
Road.

The massive form of Crazen gives chase, rolling after the fleeing form of the Hooded One until He 
wedges Himself between the mountains of the Great Pass.

In one fluid motion, Frai twists, sending thousands of tiny shadow beasts from Her fists toward the 
trapped form of Crazen. They swarm across His massive body, devouring Him in only a moment.

The battle is ended at last, but there is no silence: the mountains have crumbled from the eruption 
of Great Muud, the cities are close to ruins, the forests touched by Nemach's fetid grasp, the 
rivers thick with blood and the air bitter with ash.

Your will is suppressed by Divine mandate, making you unable to perform any action.

A golden sheen ripples across the skies as Aelish, the Creator intones, "This will not do. There is 
no victory in a broken world."

You are dismayed as a shadowcatcher web turns to dust in your hands.

With a wave of His hand, the Creator sends a wash of golden light cascading over all things. Before 
your astonished eyes, the world knits itself back together. Buildings and mountains alike stand tall,
flowers bloom and trees glow with verdant life.

A golden sheen ripples across the skies as Aelish, the Creator intones, "The body is rebuilt. Now 
let us tend to its mind - to its soul."

Your will is suppressed by Divine mandate, making you unable to perform any action.

Relief relaxes every muscle of your body, as you realize the Higher Gods have saved Lusternia from 
destruction.

The chill of the grave descends upon your surroundings as the voice of Marcella proclaims, "....what."

(Market): Ixion says, "Buying new underwear."
You put a pair of vermilion silk boxers into charred stationery of the Ouroboros.
You address charred stationery of the Ouroboros to Kalas Ixion, The Devouring Blade, and immediately a harried-looking faeling comes out to take it from you. She whistles, and a jet black crow comes flying into the room. The faeling attaches charred stationery of the Ouroboros to the crow's leg, and it speeds away.

FOR pposters who aren't steingrim:

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