- Pronouns
- He/Him
Soon.
Into the Amber Age
- Thread starter Academia Nut
- Start date
- Original
Vanathor
Games Questers Play
- Location
- SB Exodite
- Pronouns
- He/Him
More specifically there will be something within the next 14 hours.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Yes. The next update shall be about pyramids.
SuperSonicSound
Shadowmancer of the Shadow Cabal
Bah, I was hoping we'd get more insight into how our people live. Oh well I'm sure it'll be interesting either way.
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/Him
There doesn't seem to be a rating for 'the apocalypse is nigh!!!'
Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
There are worse fates in this world.
Pyramids
Tired of scraping to do favors from your mortals just for a pitiful shred of faith? Tired of constantly running low on ambrosia and divine energy in the middle of an important project?
We can help!
By joining Godway, you gain access to our trained team of associates, and get to make DE by hanging out with awesome people in awesome places. Say no to a boring 'pantheon' that makes you slave away - be your own boss! At Godway, you get a commission on every follower you make - and a share of the commission for every other spirit or god you recruit! Be in charge, get on top, and you'll soon be getting millions of amber, jade, and gold sacrifices flooding through your door.
Look at our Quadruple Diamond member, Mrs. Prim Ordial. Once a simple god of housewives, she now doesn't even need to lift a finger to bless anyone - just relax and enjoy the wealth rolling in.
But not just that! With our revolutionary Multi-Tier-Rewards system, we instantly pair you with a mentor who knows the ins and outs of religion, allowing you to make the greatest return on faith and boost your bottom line.
Just buy in with a few silos of our herbal remedies, and you'll be blessing us in no time!
Tired of scraping to do favors from your mortals just for a pitiful shred of faith? Tired of constantly running low on ambrosia and divine energy in the middle of an important project?
We can help!
By joining Godway, you gain access to our trained team of associates, and get to make DE by hanging out with awesome people in awesome places. Say no to a boring 'pantheon' that makes you slave away - be your own boss! At Godway, you get a commission on every follower you make - and a share of the commission for every other spirit or god you recruit! Be in charge, get on top, and you'll soon be getting millions of amber, jade, and gold sacrifices flooding through your door.
Look at our Quadruple Diamond member, Mrs. Prim Ordial. Once a simple god of housewives, she now doesn't even need to lift a finger to bless anyone - just relax and enjoy the wealth rolling in.
But not just that! With our revolutionary Multi-Tier-Rewards system, we instantly pair you with a mentor who knows the ins and outs of religion, allowing you to make the greatest return on faith and boost your bottom line.
Just buy in with a few silos of our herbal remedies, and you'll be blessing us in no time!
Pandemonious Ivy
Panties, Revolution. Big Drawers. Parachute.
Pyramid power
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Something else?
-[X] A grand monolithic construct of stone and light, wide at the base while rising to a point. You could see everything from the peak.
You sleep, but neither the sleep of quiescence nor the sleep of mortals. It is fitful and discontinuous, broken up by other activities, and yet it forms such a continuous narrative that you cannot remember it as anything other than an uninterrupted sequence. In it, you are climbing up a hill, but it is unlike any hill you have ever been on. For one, you feel that you cannot simply fly to the top but must walk - not run! - all the way to the top, up the steep slope. For another, the stone is the colour of sun-kissed sand and is smooth and flat like the adobe walls of the buildings your people make. There are in fact seams at regular spacings, as if the hill were made of many individual pieces cleverly fitted together. It has the distinct feeling of the work of something human.
Not spirits, but human.
Sometimes the work of spirits mars the slope, strange indentations along the way that were not a proper part, but an unwanted inclusion. There were animal pens and springs and heaps of sand and mud and vegetation. More than once you entered into these places, and they were of interest in their own right, but they felt somehow lesser and you were compelled to leave them for the sun kissed stone. As you ascended the colour grew richer, transitioning towards that of a thick cream and then towards gold. Soon enough you realized that at some point the bare stone had been left behind, replaced by stone covered in finely hammered sheets of gold that shone brilliantly in the sun.
The heat and glare from all of this began to become intolerable, despite the fact that you were fire and light yourself and such things should be as water to a fish. Still though you climbed and marvelled at the ingenuity and industry of humans.
The hill grew smoother and hotter and brighter still when, at some point, the gold cladding the stone was in turn clad in impossibly clear, smooth glass that made the whole thing that much more impressive and spectacular. You were a tireless spirit and still you started to grow exhausted in your endless march up the flanks of the hill, and yet you also drew strength from it. This impossible thing was a work of faith and adoration and love and you could not help but admire it, to breath in the hot energy flowing off of it.
And then, all at once, you were at the peak.
The heat was so intense you were certain you died then and there. Simply burst into flames. Only you were flames. You were the sun sitting upon the peak, shining down from this perfectly cut four sided hill. And all around you you could see your people going about their lives, tiny beyond compare from this distance, greater than all of the hills you knew of stacked on top of each other. Some part of you frowned though, for there were too many of them. Not that it was wrong, but you could feel that it was their hands that had made this and that those you saw were enough to have done this, but you could also see that there were more people in a patch of land covered by your thumb than there were in all of your lands and Apitulku's lands combined. And you could place your thumb over any part of the horizon spanning landscape visible from this vantage point and cover an equal number of people.
You wept. If your people were a grain of wheat then the number of people needed to build and maintain this wonder exceeded the number of grains that had ever passed through your granaries, combined.
Worse yet, you could see upon a dark horizon that you were not alone. Far in the distance but close enough to just barely fail to touch there was another hill, the opposite of your own. It was made of rough stone and dirt clad at the top in obsidian, raised not by the efforts of mortals but by spiritual power. It was lesser in glory, yet infuriatingly greater in stature. The love and awe that had gone into your hill was entirely absent, and yet still it rose above you. You could tell immediately the owners of this affront to your sensibilities and pride by the goats braying on the side of the hill and the obsidian giant sitting on top, glaring down at you contemptuously. You shook your fist at him and his hill grew only greater.
You needed to build yours higher still, but when you looked down at the people who would enable it, they were simply dots swarming about and you found that you did not have the words to address them, to order them. They were your beloved people and you knew none of them. All you could think to do was to below and order and tell them your directive, but you knew that that would taint their faith and awe and love. To your horror you watched as the base of sandy stone began to turn to actual sand, disintegrating away and soon claiming the top.
You blink and you find yourself sitting on a river bank drawing triangles in the mud and sand.
You feel... better, like something had been sticking in your throat and you have finally been able to swallow it after an extreme effort. You also feel strange. The vision from your fugue is fading out to a golden haze tainted at the end by dark shadows, but you can focus on any particular point and recall it with total clarity, if you can remember to remember. A certain melancholy settles in as you realize the impossibility of your dream, but as you idly draw another triangle you do think that perhaps you could make a first step... eventually. You will need many more people than you currently know are alive, even if it is not the teeming, uncountable masses from your vision.
Eventually, you get up again. You still have work to do.
-[X] A grand monolithic construct of stone and light, wide at the base while rising to a point. You could see everything from the peak.
You sleep, but neither the sleep of quiescence nor the sleep of mortals. It is fitful and discontinuous, broken up by other activities, and yet it forms such a continuous narrative that you cannot remember it as anything other than an uninterrupted sequence. In it, you are climbing up a hill, but it is unlike any hill you have ever been on. For one, you feel that you cannot simply fly to the top but must walk - not run! - all the way to the top, up the steep slope. For another, the stone is the colour of sun-kissed sand and is smooth and flat like the adobe walls of the buildings your people make. There are in fact seams at regular spacings, as if the hill were made of many individual pieces cleverly fitted together. It has the distinct feeling of the work of something human.
Not spirits, but human.
Sometimes the work of spirits mars the slope, strange indentations along the way that were not a proper part, but an unwanted inclusion. There were animal pens and springs and heaps of sand and mud and vegetation. More than once you entered into these places, and they were of interest in their own right, but they felt somehow lesser and you were compelled to leave them for the sun kissed stone. As you ascended the colour grew richer, transitioning towards that of a thick cream and then towards gold. Soon enough you realized that at some point the bare stone had been left behind, replaced by stone covered in finely hammered sheets of gold that shone brilliantly in the sun.
The heat and glare from all of this began to become intolerable, despite the fact that you were fire and light yourself and such things should be as water to a fish. Still though you climbed and marvelled at the ingenuity and industry of humans.
The hill grew smoother and hotter and brighter still when, at some point, the gold cladding the stone was in turn clad in impossibly clear, smooth glass that made the whole thing that much more impressive and spectacular. You were a tireless spirit and still you started to grow exhausted in your endless march up the flanks of the hill, and yet you also drew strength from it. This impossible thing was a work of faith and adoration and love and you could not help but admire it, to breath in the hot energy flowing off of it.
And then, all at once, you were at the peak.
The heat was so intense you were certain you died then and there. Simply burst into flames. Only you were flames. You were the sun sitting upon the peak, shining down from this perfectly cut four sided hill. And all around you you could see your people going about their lives, tiny beyond compare from this distance, greater than all of the hills you knew of stacked on top of each other. Some part of you frowned though, for there were too many of them. Not that it was wrong, but you could feel that it was their hands that had made this and that those you saw were enough to have done this, but you could also see that there were more people in a patch of land covered by your thumb than there were in all of your lands and Apitulku's lands combined. And you could place your thumb over any part of the horizon spanning landscape visible from this vantage point and cover an equal number of people.
You wept. If your people were a grain of wheat then the number of people needed to build and maintain this wonder exceeded the number of grains that had ever passed through your granaries, combined.
Worse yet, you could see upon a dark horizon that you were not alone. Far in the distance but close enough to just barely fail to touch there was another hill, the opposite of your own. It was made of rough stone and dirt clad at the top in obsidian, raised not by the efforts of mortals but by spiritual power. It was lesser in glory, yet infuriatingly greater in stature. The love and awe that had gone into your hill was entirely absent, and yet still it rose above you. You could tell immediately the owners of this affront to your sensibilities and pride by the goats braying on the side of the hill and the obsidian giant sitting on top, glaring down at you contemptuously. You shook your fist at him and his hill grew only greater.
You needed to build yours higher still, but when you looked down at the people who would enable it, they were simply dots swarming about and you found that you did not have the words to address them, to order them. They were your beloved people and you knew none of them. All you could think to do was to below and order and tell them your directive, but you knew that that would taint their faith and awe and love. To your horror you watched as the base of sandy stone began to turn to actual sand, disintegrating away and soon claiming the top.
You blink and you find yourself sitting on a river bank drawing triangles in the mud and sand.
You feel... better, like something had been sticking in your throat and you have finally been able to swallow it after an extreme effort. You also feel strange. The vision from your fugue is fading out to a golden haze tainted at the end by dark shadows, but you can focus on any particular point and recall it with total clarity, if you can remember to remember. A certain melancholy settles in as you realize the impossibility of your dream, but as you idly draw another triangle you do think that perhaps you could make a first step... eventually. You will need many more people than you currently know are alive, even if it is not the teeming, uncountable masses from your vision.
Eventually, you get up again. You still have work to do.
Pandemonious Ivy
Panties, Revolution. Big Drawers. Parachute.
THE DIVINE PROPHET AND ENDLESS ZEALOT APPROVES!
RISE, PYRAMID!
RISE, PYRAMID!
Vanathor
Games Questers Play
- Location
- SB Exodite
Dread price of godhood. This is a side effect of leveling up. Individual people become less important, and our ability to relate to them disappears accordingly.
Omegahugger
Inattentive Idiot
To be fair, we've done our utmost to make the latter as small as possible.
Powerofmind
In Madness Fallen
- Location
- United States
Time to make babbies.
- Location
- Cyberspace
Re-quoted for emphasis. We need to connect to our people.
I suggest (a shocker, I know) Personal Blessings and Inspirations on a regular consistent basis.
Deadly Snark
Tryhard As Fuck
It seems pretty clear to me that the vision was a cautionary one. In that we are becoming too distant from our people and if we let the gap continue to grow, then eventually all our powerbase, all our glory, all our plans and dreams will crumble to nothing while our rivals will grow greater than we are. If we want to keep up, we need to start shoring up our foundation.
Vanathor
Games Questers Play
- Location
- SB Exodite
What a coincidence that we know that the Chief of Civ ascensions lets us delegate decisions, and better empathize with our people