- Location
- washington
Notably winter can field an army in the mortal world so doesn't make much sense.
Green Flame Rising (Exalted vs Dresden Files)
- Thread starter DragonParadox
- Start date
- Crossover Fantasy
Yes, you are.
That IS precisely what they are though.
To quote Odin:
Vadderung pursed his lips in thought. "In that, you may be disappointed. I am . . . not what I was. My children are scattered around the world. Most of them have forgotten our purpose. Once the Jotuns retreated . . ." He shook his head. "What you must understand is that you face beings such as I in this battle."
I frowned. "You mean . . . gods?"
"Mostly retired gods, at any rate," Vadderung said. "Once, entire civilizations bowed to them. Now they are venerated by only a handful, the power of their blood spread out among thousands of offspring. But in the Lords of Outer Night, even the remnants of that power are more than you can face as you are."
"I've heard that one before," I said.
Vadderung just looked at me. Then he said, "Let me help you understand."
And a force like a hundred anvils smashed me out of the chair and to the floor.
I found myself on my back, gasping like a landed fish. I struggled to move, to push myself up, but I couldn't so much as lift my arms from the ground. I brought my will into focus, with the idea of using it to deflect some of that force from me and—
—and suddenly, sharply felt my will directly in contention with another. The power that held me down was not earth magic, as I had assumed it to be. It was the simple, raw, brute application of the will of Donar Vadderung, Thunder's Father, the Father and King of the Aesir. Father Odin's will held me pinned to the floor, and I could no more escape it or force it away than could an insect stop a shoe from descending.
In the instant that realization came to me, the force vanished, evaporating as if it had never been. I lay on the floor gasping.
"It is within my capabilities to kill you, young wizard," Vadderung said quietly. "I could wish you dead. Especially here, at the center of my power on Midgard." He got up, came around the desk, and offered me his hand. I took it. He pulled me to my feet, steady as a rock. "You will be at the center of their power. There will be a dozen of them, each nearly as strong as I am." He put a hand on my shoulder briefly. "You are bold, clever, and from time to time lucky. All of those are excellent qualities to have in battles like yours. But against power such as this you cannot prevail as you are. Even if you are able to challenge the Red King at Chichén Itzá, you will be crushed down as you were a moment ago. You'll be able to do nothing but watch as your daughter dies."
He stared at me in silence for a time. Then the door to his office opened, and one of the receptionists leaned in. "Sir," she said, "you have a lunch appointment in five minutes."
"Indeed," Vadderung said. "Thank you, M."
She nodded and retreated again.
Vadderung turned back to me, as Gard returned to the room, carrying a covered tray. She set it down on the big steel desk and stepped back, unobtrusively.
"You've defied fate, Dresden," Vadderung said. "You've stood up to foes much larger than you. For that, you have my respect."
"Do you think I could swap in the respect for . . . I dunno . . . half a dozen Valkyries, a receptionist, and a couple of platoons of dead heroes?"
Vadderung laughed again. He had a hearty laugh, like Santa Claus must have had when he was young and playing football. "I couldn't do without my receptionists, I'm afraid." He sobered. "And those others . . . would be less strong at the center of the Red King's power." He shook his head. "Like it or not, this is a mortal matter. It must be settled by mortals."
"You're not going to help," I said quietly.
He went to a steel closet and opened the door, removing an overcoat. He slipped into it, and then walked over to me again. "I've been in this game for a long, long time, boy. How do you know I haven't given you exactly what you need?"
Vadderung took the lid off the covered tray, nodded to me pleasantly, and left.
I looked at the tray. A cup of tea steamed there, three empty paper packets of sugar beside it. The tea smelled like peppermint, a favorite. Next to the cup of tea was a little plate with two cake doughnuts on it, both of them covered in thick white frosting and unmarred by sprinkles or any other edible decorations.
I looked up in time to see Vadderung walk by, trailed by the pair of receptionists, and saw them all simply vanish, presumably into a Way.
"Well?" Gard asked me. "Are you ready to go?"
"Just a minute," I said.
I sat back down. And I drank the tea and ate the doughnuts, thoughtfully.
I frowned. "You mean . . . gods?"
"Mostly retired gods, at any rate," Vadderung said. "Once, entire civilizations bowed to them. Now they are venerated by only a handful, the power of their blood spread out among thousands of offspring. But in the Lords of Outer Night, even the remnants of that power are more than you can face as you are."
"I've heard that one before," I said.
Vadderung just looked at me. Then he said, "Let me help you understand."
And a force like a hundred anvils smashed me out of the chair and to the floor.
I found myself on my back, gasping like a landed fish. I struggled to move, to push myself up, but I couldn't so much as lift my arms from the ground. I brought my will into focus, with the idea of using it to deflect some of that force from me and—
—and suddenly, sharply felt my will directly in contention with another. The power that held me down was not earth magic, as I had assumed it to be. It was the simple, raw, brute application of the will of Donar Vadderung, Thunder's Father, the Father and King of the Aesir. Father Odin's will held me pinned to the floor, and I could no more escape it or force it away than could an insect stop a shoe from descending.
In the instant that realization came to me, the force vanished, evaporating as if it had never been. I lay on the floor gasping.
"It is within my capabilities to kill you, young wizard," Vadderung said quietly. "I could wish you dead. Especially here, at the center of my power on Midgard." He got up, came around the desk, and offered me his hand. I took it. He pulled me to my feet, steady as a rock. "You will be at the center of their power. There will be a dozen of them, each nearly as strong as I am." He put a hand on my shoulder briefly. "You are bold, clever, and from time to time lucky. All of those are excellent qualities to have in battles like yours. But against power such as this you cannot prevail as you are. Even if you are able to challenge the Red King at Chichén Itzá, you will be crushed down as you were a moment ago. You'll be able to do nothing but watch as your daughter dies."
He stared at me in silence for a time. Then the door to his office opened, and one of the receptionists leaned in. "Sir," she said, "you have a lunch appointment in five minutes."
"Indeed," Vadderung said. "Thank you, M."
She nodded and retreated again.
Vadderung turned back to me, as Gard returned to the room, carrying a covered tray. She set it down on the big steel desk and stepped back, unobtrusively.
"You've defied fate, Dresden," Vadderung said. "You've stood up to foes much larger than you. For that, you have my respect."
"Do you think I could swap in the respect for . . . I dunno . . . half a dozen Valkyries, a receptionist, and a couple of platoons of dead heroes?"
Vadderung laughed again. He had a hearty laugh, like Santa Claus must have had when he was young and playing football. "I couldn't do without my receptionists, I'm afraid." He sobered. "And those others . . . would be less strong at the center of the Red King's power." He shook his head. "Like it or not, this is a mortal matter. It must be settled by mortals."
"You're not going to help," I said quietly.
He went to a steel closet and opened the door, removing an overcoat. He slipped into it, and then walked over to me again. "I've been in this game for a long, long time, boy. How do you know I haven't given you exactly what you need?"
Vadderung took the lid off the covered tray, nodded to me pleasantly, and left.
I looked at the tray. A cup of tea steamed there, three empty paper packets of sugar beside it. The tea smelled like peppermint, a favorite. Next to the cup of tea was a little plate with two cake doughnuts on it, both of them covered in thick white frosting and unmarred by sprinkles or any other edible decorations.
I looked up in time to see Vadderung walk by, trailed by the pair of receptionists, and saw them all simply vanish, presumably into a Way.
"Well?" Gard asked me. "Are you ready to go?"
"Just a minute," I said.
I sat back down. And I drank the tea and ate the doughnuts, thoughtfully.
Now, either he was lying, being deceptive due to what Mantle he had operative at the time, or the Lords are well outside the weight class of Shagnasty.
Its just worth remembering there were two Swords at Chitchen Itza helping tilt the scales and level the battlefield.
EDIT
I mean, IIRC, every Lord we see die was killed by a Sword or the Leanansidhe, second strongest Fae in the Winter Court.
That says nothing to their durability, and everything about what killed them.
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- Pronouns
- She/Her
So what happens if we get more successes on our 20-die pool than Harry has dice?
So, what I'm getting from that is that we want to grab EIPP before we get to the point of challenging those guys so that they can't pull the whole "wishing us dead" thing, right? Because that looks like an EIPP problem to me.
The only Perk Im aware the QM has ruled can be built/bought afterwards is Grand Grimoire.
We can explicitly build mundane prisons and guard posts, and staff them with people, but we dont get the same narrative backing as someone who bought the Gaols Feature for the supermax containment and Hell-wide security.
No Molly is not bringing people here for resurrection. You cant resurrect people here.
Thats not what the Endless Suffering feature says. She might bring sick or dying people for treatment to prevent them from dying, but those generally dont need to go to jail.
You might want to read the charms list.
Several Infernal charms explictly send people direct to Hell if they die after they piss the Infernal off; Simmering Sinner Resenment, Murder is Meat, and Life-Denying Curse, for example.
Not to mention we need containment facilities for high threat prisoners like Denarians or the Nemesis-infected.
(yes, Denarian prisoners; we have seen both Cassius and Deirdre taken prisoner before, and even Nicodemus got choked out)
For all this I want to make sure our Hell comes with with discount Demonreach-tier containment facilities.
And a panopticon to match.
Thats not achievable in a reasonable time frame short of fiat.
Yes, its literally in the descriotion.
Its a Feature. The fluff talks about space constraints and lack of privacy and possible violence.
It doesnt talk about starvation or cannibalism or die offs. Thats your invention.
I mean, none of us have any trouble believing that said place can manage to support an advanced technological civilization on barely a couple million people. Farming and raw materials mining, manufacturing and tech research, education and entertainment, all in a surface area smaller than Tokyo.
Its magic. Aint gotta explain shit.
PS
Cannibalism and corpse starch is Warhammer 40K grimdark nonsense.
You can feed a technological population pretty well with limited space . It wont have much variety, and there will be compromises, but its doable if you have near-modern tech and the will.
By this reasoning we blew our knees off when we took Vengeful, Enemy Denarians 2 and Enemy Winter Court 1.
Stuff that directly affects Molly's real world life and family, as opposed to just her Hell.
Yeah.
Or avoid getting in a fight in the first place, and use a sorcery ritual to nuke them from orbit if we can. Or just craft a magic artifact that charges and reproduces sunlight in a one-mile radius as a hard debuff. Or bless the rain.
There was a joke I remember reading about why there were no vampires in Africa, and the answer was they already blessed the rains down in Africa.
Food for thought.
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- Location
- washington
One note about demonreach they can't permanently imprison mortals or more specific words anything with free will. Word of Jim. Thomas is going to get out soonish.The only Perk Im aware the QM has ruled can be built/bought afterwards is Grand Grimoire.
We can explicitly build mundane prisons and guard posts, and staff them with people, but we dont get the same narrative backing as someone who bought the Gaols Feature for the supermax containment and Hell-wide security.
No Molly is not bringing people here for resurrection. You cant resurrect people here.
Thats not what the Endless Suffering feature says. She might bring sick or dying people for treatment to prevent them from dying, but those generally dont need to go to jail.
You might want to read the charms list.
Several Infernal charms explictly send people direct to Hell if they die after they piss the Infernal off; Simmering Sinner Resenment, Murder is Meat, and Life-Denying Curse, for example.
Not to mention we need containment facilities for high threat prisoners like Denarians or the Nemesis-infected.
(yes, Denarian prisoners; we have seen both Cassius and Deirdre taken prisoner before, and even Nicodemus got choked out)
For all this I want to make sure our Hell comes with with discount Demonreach-tier containment facilities.
And a panopticon to match.
Thats not achievable in a reasonable time frame short of fiat.
Yes, its literally in the descriotion.
Its a Feature. The fluff talks about space constraints and lack of privacy and possible violence.
It doesnt talk about starvation or cannibalism or die offs. Thats your invention.
I mean, none of us have any trouble believing that said place can manage to support an advanced technological civilization on barely a couple million people. Farming and raw materials mining, manufacturing and tech research, education and entertainment, all in a surface area smaller than Tokyo.
Its magic. Aint gotta explain shit.
PS
Cannibalism and corpse starch is Warhammer 40K grimdark nonsense.
You can feed a technological population pretty well with limited space . It wont have much variety, and there will be compromises, but its doable if you have near-modern tech and the will.
By this reasoning we blew our knees off when we took Vengeful, Enemy Denarians 2 and Enemy Winter Court 1.
Stuff that directly affects Molly's real world life and family, as opposed to just her Hell.
Yeah.
Or avoid getting in a fight in the first place, and use a sorcery ritual to nuke them from orbit if we can. Or just craft a magic artifact that charges and reproduces sunlight in a one-mile radius as a hard debuff. Or bless the rain.
There was a joke I remember reading about why there were no vampires in Africa, and the answer was they already blessed the rains down in Africa.
Food for thought.
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Thats just Plot, I suspect.
Thomas is spending less time in confinement than the British dude with the upper class accent, who Harry met there when he became Warden.
Nevertheless, Demonreach has apparently held its prisoners for thousands of years
At least.
Good enough role model for me if it only releases one prisoner every several thousand years.
- Location
- washington
What does that have to do with it being plot? It can't hold mortals with free will? Also if the British guy is mortal well it says free will and the guy clearly doesn't want to leave so technically not breaking any rules if he doesn't want to leave? Right?
Like it's word of Jim that the thing can't hold those with free will. The reasons for why will probably be figured out eventually. I don't see how it being "plot" changes anything?
Edit: Also it's a book isn't everything plot? Like Jim has had an outline since the beginning even if a fuck ton of the details were made along the way. One of the few characters according to him that weren't planned from the beginning was butters who came out of nowhere.
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Here, have a quote:
We can build infrastructure after we buy the Kingdom. Since Grand Grimoire is also allowed, I am assuming that infrastructure in general is allowed, specifically Cauls and Gaols.
No, you misunderstand me. My logic was different. It was actually based on having charms that kill people and/or send them to hell. When we get our kingdom, we could mercy kill our allies, choosing to send them to our kingdom. We could then retrieve them from there, as long as they are limited in number. It's essentially resurrection. Well, reincarnation, as they might count as hungry dead upon returning, but it's still a great safety net.
It specifically says, and I quote: "The Hell has too many inhabitants for its ecosystem to support". Do you honestly not understand what it means? It literally means that the ecosystem of our kingdom cannot support the number of inhabitants it has. Not "is uncomfortable in supporting". Cannot support. Full stop. This means that without magic, like eternal suffering, the amount of population cannot be supported. If the population cannot be supported, parts of it will die. That's what "cannot be supported" means. Both the people and the ecosystem will be damaged over time.
The second part "Space is at a premium, privacy is nonexistent, and violence is probably common" are the consequences of the first part, not the total extent of it. And even if they were the total extent of the problems, that's still unacceptable for me.
If you can feed your population than, by definition, you don't have overpopulation. And of course it's grimdark nonsense. It's literally hell.
While I wasn't there for these choices, these at least have pre-existing background reasoning. Choosing to cripple our worldsoul doesn't.
EDIT:
Compare overpopulated with "Balanced ecosystem: The Realm has a reasonable balance of space, population, and resources.". See the last part? "resources". This means that overpopulated hell doesn't have enough resources.
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- Location
- washington
Kue Jin actually have to pass a somewhat difficult test. What the test is varies wildly though. It can't be easy though it's one of the reasons they don't print them as soldiers. Other reasons being their not completely controllable and some see them with disdain of course.
Fair warning, I'm not actually using the prayer vote I have on this page.
Yeah I noticed.
Its fine.
- Location
- Germany
Vote has been called last page anyway, now we wait for the magic show.
Winning Vote
Arc 2 Post 57: Invocations of Emptiness
Invocations of Emptiness
22st of July 2006 A.D.
In for a penny in for a pound. For some reason Usum seems to find the expression very amusing, but you cannot pay attention to that now. A thousand eyes whirl and dance around you, they cannot see they cannot know, they cannot peer within. Their light sharpens without brightening, it pierces without illuminating and in the darkness beyond darkness something painfully new bears witness to something infinitely old in malice.
I have to... oh fuck.
Lost 1 Essence
The rationalization comes a moment later. It's not like they are using it anymore and their souls are at peace anyway.
"This is a ritual of consumption right. I think I can do something to help, to mark the boundaries and sharpen the divide..." Deep breath Molly, you decided to do this, this.
Harry is looking at you funny, pretty soon he might be looking at you another way.
You jump back into the submarine and with a thought spin a strange sort of tool from the depths of your anima, one never meant for any mundane purpose. At first glance it looks like some combination of vacuum cleaner and grotesque syringe, humming under your hand. Gingerly you set it onto the bloody floor, the sheets, there is a lot of blood in here, blood spilled in malice and surrendered in agony, blood already spent to empower mortal necromancy. For most magicians it would be of no real worth, but there is power in absence, in lack, in want... in void.
Lost 1 Essence
Distantly you remember something from a documentary you watched a few years ago, it was a physics thing, zero point energy, power from literal empty space that would supposedly be even more powerful than the nuclear furnace at the heart of stars.
The universe is vast beyond human understanding and it is mostly empty be it the great voids of intergalactic space where single atoms of hydrogen can travel light years without touching another spec of mater or the secret spaces inside matter itself, each atom only a spec of mass at its core and a cloud of electrons offering the illusion of physicality as they brush against each others.
Words come to you, old and terrible words clawing at the edges of your mind yet bound in a net of adamantine will. The pumps quiet, the blood had been gathered. A little more stiffly under the weight of that which you now bear
"Where do you need this?" The words come out as a hiss between clenched teeth.
"Molly what are you doing?" Harry had gone from looking concerned to downright alarmed. Hopefully he won't think to open the sight, something tells you he really doesn't want an eyeful of what you are holding.
Deep and black runs the water of the Grave
For his part Arawn seems if not unphased than at least quick to take advantage of the opportunity. He motions to the ground where the 'stone' had been. There was still a circle there ringed in in copper pulled from the electrical wiring.
Nodding you turn on the... device, the drill now part of it now wet with blood as it hammers into the floor, pressing sign after sign, ideograms that are a uncanny melange of Egyptian, Mayan and Chinese, a cypher writ in lines of white hot flame. So lies the Perfected Principle of Consumption writ palely upon the living world.
The air tastes foul at first with the fumes of burning blood, then it grows sweet yet somehow more unnerving, the scent of graveyard flowers. Following Arawn's instructions you carve inside the circle the image of a tree with branches curving down and roots curving up, such as almost to make a circle. Among its branches and among its roots you write yet more, spells and invocations, once-prayers to a lost god. Grey mist drips into a rain light quicksilver, bright upon the tip of root and branch. The Corpsetaker who had used so many for so long now made a tool in another's working, there's a sort of justice to that, cruel though it may be.
He takes his place among the roots and with hesitant steps Matthews takes his among the branches, knife now in hand held firm you are glad to see. Words of power he speaks that scramble at the walls of the world, hungry and cold but before the last echo of them had faded Arawn speaks an answer, an acceptance. His eyes are on Lydia... saying goodbye
It happens shockingly fast, Matthews closes the distance and runs the knife across Arawn's throat...
Lydia screams and it is only your hand on her shoulder that stops her. Immortal power, heavy with the gifts of mortality flows from one vessel into another, the crimson tree with silver leaves flowers, eerie alien beauty.
A single branch reaches out, not so much like a living thing growing from the stone but as though space itself grows twisted as Matthews pulls away and with dying strength Arawan reaches for it.
Death shudders and to sleep surrenders.
Arawn falls backwards, the air opening before him like the waters of a still pool with ripple. As he fades away he looks... younger maybe, not old and worn, but ageless in his slumber.
Gain 2 Essence
Silence falls, the universe itself taking a deep breath and from all present you can hear only the breath save Lydia who is crying now. You open your mouth to speak, though you have no idea what to say, what you even can say, but then, suddenly she stops.
"I can... I can still hear him, but I'm not asleep..." she manages to force a smile on her lips. "Dad says thank you, that worked a lot better than he thought it would."
Lydia's Background Prestigious Mentor Exchanged for Spirit Guide (Functions like Totem ●)
"Well that's good," you say, trying to sound cheerful. "Tell him he's welcome." You glance towards Matthews. "Are you OK there?"
"As well as could be hoped, this is a lot to deal with," he sounds a lot more confident and though his face is still just as lined and his hair as white he stands straighter than before, the weight of years not gone, but suddenly made light enough to bear with ease.
"Welp we had better call her then," you say, or start to at least.
"That will not be necessary,"a voice like icicles shattering on stone answers from your left... as the Queen of Air and Darkness walks slowly into the light of Harry's staff. About six feet tall not counting the elegant but practical designer shoes the greatest of the wicked fairies has hair that shines silver white like a field of snow in starlight and skin unearthly pale yet filled with life. Her eyes stand out all the brighter green not like leaves or grass, but like the gleam of the Northern Lights wondrous-strange. The weight of her majesty blows over you like a cold wind demanding that all before her bow or be blown away.
How do you react?
[] Trigger Impervious Primacy Mantle and stare her down, you will not bow your head to any who have not earned it on you, offer a neutral greeting
[] Bow your head and offer a courteous greeting (Charisma+Etiquette)
[] Write in
OOC: So that happened, you asked an Exaltation how to better perform necromancy and rolled absurdly high, it helpfully replied with that it knew to be the heart of that dark art. On the plus side you did earn a secret out of the deal which left you Essence neutral
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Rolls
Really not your wheelhouse... but Exaltation says Hell to that.
Matthews at least got 1 success
Arawn does decently, he planned a contingency for something like this
Rolling all the successes as Ritual Dice to see how much Arawn manages to salvage from his sleep, 5 is enough for at will connection 10 would have actually left him awake and empowered
Really not your wheelhouse... but Exaltation says Hell to that.
Matthews at least got 1 success
Arawn does decently, he planned a contingency for something like this
Rolling all the successes as Ritual Dice to see how much Arawn manages to salvage from his sleep, 5 is enough for at will connection 10 would have actually left him awake and empowered
- Pronouns
- She/Her
11 successes since we ignore ones on Occult rolls… Yeah, that ritual mostly worked because of us.
Edit: Wait, @DragonParadox, that should be 16 dice for the ritual.
Edit: Wait, @DragonParadox, that should be 16 dice for the ritual.
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Well it would have worked if even if none of the exploding ritual dice succeeded, those were for going above and beyond just preserving Arawn's life, but he would have been totally without communication.
[X] Trigger Impervious Primacy Mantle and stare her down, you will not bow your head to any who have not earned it on you, offer a neutral greeting
Even if it takes time, though, it's still better than dying completely, I feel. It's a good backup option.
@uju32 let's just say that ok, gaols make sense, and add functionality not fully tapped by other options. I have a great idea of how to incorporate them lore-wise if QM rules that we get +1 point from Deadly Beasts:
The second point I'll either spend on Huge size, upping the scale to Australia, so each city can be a proper city-state numbering in (tens of) millions, or on Cauls. Maybe on the Lord of the Land, but that's unlikely.
Well, we have rules for taking people out: "By paying 2 Essence while crossing over into her inner landscape, the Infernal may also bring up to a score of willing, restrained, or unconscious individuals along with her. Visitors to the Kingdom may stay for as long as they wish (indeed, they may even become permanent residents), and are free to depart whenever they desire – so long as they are able to walk to the border of the realm." These are the rules for visitors. There's nothing explicit about those we send to our kingdom via charms. I'll assume that they could also leave. In fact, I have designed several ways of doing so in my write-up (see the threadmark).
Even if it takes time, though, it's still better than dying completely, I feel. It's a good backup option.
@uju32 let's just say that ok, gaols make sense, and add functionality not fully tapped by other options. I have a great idea of how to incorporate them lore-wise if QM rules that we get +1 point from Deadly Beasts:
Great are the cities of your kingdom, each more than a million strong in number, each with its culture, philosophy, dreams and futures. And yet, they are not the crown of this world. For in its very center, there exists a sixth structure.
A giant statue, or a mountain if a form of statue, an axis of the wheel around which the world turns stands in the middle of your soul. Two eastern dragons, one black as the darkest night, the other all colors of rainbow, spiral around each other in a mockery of a human DNA, rising from the ground to challenge the empty skies.
They emerge, frozen at the moment of a triumphant and desperate escape, from a round cracked hill of bronze in the ground. Upon closer inspection, one can find that the hill is but a tip of a giant sphere, almost buried under ice. If one was to brave the darkness and spelunk into the darkness, they would find themselves in a giant labyrinth of concentric brass and basalt spheres. Strange, elcdrich writings and grotesque carvings cover its walls, floors, ceiling. Flickering green lights illuminate some, but far from all corridors. Over time, it seems, the layout of the labyrinth shifts, as the spheres composing it move against each other. Whether this movement is slowly winding down or speeding up is impossible to tell. As one goes deeper and deeper, approaching what should be the geometric center of this structure, the temperature slowly rises and, should the visitor has appropriate equipment or keen enough senses, they'll note the rising level of background radiation. It is impossible to reach the deepest layers, much less the core - the tunnels have collapsed long ago, some melted, some covered in debris. As such, no one knows what lies there.
What is known, however, is the purpose which labyrinth served. Serves. Anyone who ever walked its corridors would be able to tell that it is a prison, waiting, longing for its warden to come. Each room is a prison, self-contained and all-containing, lined with symbols old and forgotten, meant to prevent teleportation, transformation, or any other means of escape, including death itself. The beast-like degenerate inhabitants of the labyrinth, few in the outer, frozen layers, and more numerous, sophisticated, dare one say, intelligent, in the inner ones, fight anyone traversing the corridors. Some researchers believe, based upon what little information is available, that at least a few of the kingdom's citizens trace their ancestry to them, the descendants of the prisoners and the wardens populating the world-to-be, after the prison was broken in the time immemorial. The passages are lined with titanic vault-like doors barring passage. Brass eyes embedded into ceilings follow the movements of travelers.
In the dragons' jaws, a giant crystalline palace rests, its architecture something that doesn't belong to today – only to tomorrow and perhaps to ages long since past. It is the seat of your governance, and the natural meeting place of the governing parties of your subjects. It is also a church, a and a site of holy pilgrimage for them. The only possible glimpse of something that doesn't exist in this realm. Illuminating your throne, and observable only in your throne room is the Sun. Sometimes yellow, and sometimes green.
A giant statue, or a mountain if a form of statue, an axis of the wheel around which the world turns stands in the middle of your soul. Two eastern dragons, one black as the darkest night, the other all colors of rainbow, spiral around each other in a mockery of a human DNA, rising from the ground to challenge the empty skies.
They emerge, frozen at the moment of a triumphant and desperate escape, from a round cracked hill of bronze in the ground. Upon closer inspection, one can find that the hill is but a tip of a giant sphere, almost buried under ice. If one was to brave the darkness and spelunk into the darkness, they would find themselves in a giant labyrinth of concentric brass and basalt spheres. Strange, elcdrich writings and grotesque carvings cover its walls, floors, ceiling. Flickering green lights illuminate some, but far from all corridors. Over time, it seems, the layout of the labyrinth shifts, as the spheres composing it move against each other. Whether this movement is slowly winding down or speeding up is impossible to tell. As one goes deeper and deeper, approaching what should be the geometric center of this structure, the temperature slowly rises and, should the visitor has appropriate equipment or keen enough senses, they'll note the rising level of background radiation. It is impossible to reach the deepest layers, much less the core - the tunnels have collapsed long ago, some melted, some covered in debris. As such, no one knows what lies there.
What is known, however, is the purpose which labyrinth served. Serves. Anyone who ever walked its corridors would be able to tell that it is a prison, waiting, longing for its warden to come. Each room is a prison, self-contained and all-containing, lined with symbols old and forgotten, meant to prevent teleportation, transformation, or any other means of escape, including death itself. The beast-like degenerate inhabitants of the labyrinth, few in the outer, frozen layers, and more numerous, sophisticated, dare one say, intelligent, in the inner ones, fight anyone traversing the corridors. Some researchers believe, based upon what little information is available, that at least a few of the kingdom's citizens trace their ancestry to them, the descendants of the prisoners and the wardens populating the world-to-be, after the prison was broken in the time immemorial. The passages are lined with titanic vault-like doors barring passage. Brass eyes embedded into ceilings follow the movements of travelers.
In the dragons' jaws, a giant crystalline palace rests, its architecture something that doesn't belong to today – only to tomorrow and perhaps to ages long since past. It is the seat of your governance, and the natural meeting place of the governing parties of your subjects. It is also a church, a and a site of holy pilgrimage for them. The only possible glimpse of something that doesn't exist in this realm. Illuminating your throne, and observable only in your throne room is the Sun. Sometimes yellow, and sometimes green.
You can pretty much guess. This is a shade of the shade of Malfeas imagined as a giant prison for our realm. It actually synergies superbly with twin dragon statue. The question of if there's Ligier('s corpse) at the center that could be unearthed after excavating the inner layers, taking over the ancient demon civilizations there, and basically solving a lot of plot, is up to the QM, of course
I think you are misunderstanding that statement.
It seems to be referring to the transport system, not the gaols.
I am pretty sure that falls under Rule Zero as an exploit of the rules.
No way the QM allows it, and even if they did, there would be Consequences. The kuei-jin come back as vampires who are cannibalistic nonsapient monsters in their larval form that need to be captured and trained, and even after have to drain people of life force to survive.
Even here under hybrid WoD/Dresdenverse rules, resurrection remains a Big Deal.
1)We are a technological civilization, whether magic or tech.
We are not at the mercy of the ecosystem; we modify our environment within reason. An urbanized society in the position of a city state will need plenty of technological intervention to survive.
2)If your interpretation was true, that would be a self-solving problem as society would break down and the excess would die out.
Violence would not be common, it would be mandatory.
Yet none of this is true. So you are wrong.
3)Frankly? People are our greatest resource.
That is absolutely not true.
This place does not operate by the nonsensical rules of 40k.
You keep mischaracterizing it.
Its not a crippling, they are plot hooks.
Same reason we took the Flaws at chargen, and those Features have less mechanical effect on Molly to boot.
Killing your own allies to catch their souls would work... but you would then need some way to make new bodies and stitch the souls in, that is some heavy duty necromancy.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
Wow, that was a great chapter, @DragonParadox! You really set the tone for the ritual and Molly's participation.
I suspect Harry is wishing he wore his brown pants today?
I suspect Harry is wishing he wore his brown pants today?
Wow, that was a great chapter, @DragonParadox! You really set the tone for the ritual and Molly's participation.
I suspect Harry is wishing he wore his brown pants today?
Harry still has not recovered his voice, which is let's say unusual for him.