The over all realm is very Urban. The entire center province of the realm is a city... a massive spread out city with few buildings over 3 stories. It would take 3 full days(72 hours) just to walk from one side of the city to another. In the city itself there are "parks" where anything from small forests to farming takes place. There are also several rivers and even a lake running through the city that have rope and raft ferries. The terrain the city was built on is rolling hills, with small moutains blocking some parts. While the city might not see as "Dangerous" as a beast-filled forest, it does attract some very rough customers... and there nothing worse than people as dangerous as those beasts, as they can THINK. There are also a LOT of oragnised and unoransided crime. There is very little respect for the law here, though there IS a very very corrupt government (Federation of Neighborhoods) who every once in a while tries to stop it... until someone is assasinated or killed.

The people - known as "cityfolk" - are human in every aspect. They are greedy, risky, brave, and lack all conspet of humanity. They respect nothing but force(and money), but are pissed off when told what to do(unless you pay them). Gold is the ultiment form of power here. Don't have muscle? Buy body gaurds, Don't like someone? Hire and assassin. And of the City-folk there are five different types classified on how they get their gold:
Suckers are determined to be "better people", they work hard for their money until they die. Beleive it or not MOST people are Suckers.

What is Magic to the cityfolk? Everything is science my dear man... everything. Everything can be explained... infact my people are so "realist" that anything fantastic doesn't break their minds, but instead intreigues them... perhaps it is the lingering effect of their mad heritage.
The mysticysm of the realm and people has to do with The Circle of Subtlety... because "Illusion" is the most real of them, it is often the most common. Illusionist are infact considered to be "real" magicians. Those who claim to dabble in other things such as Chance, Mind, and Time... are often thought of as simple Con-men, seers, or wackos repectivly.

THE PEOPLE WILL NEVER ACCEPT TYCHE AS THEIR GOD OR MASTER. IN RETURN FOR THIS PENALTY THEY START AS A BALANCED REALM FREE OF CHARGE.

Tyche sighed and took another drink of his beer silently. What a lousy day, first he appeared in an ally with a killer hangover... and he didn't even remember drinking. Then some mugger decided to try and rob him, and he had to put a knife in him. He did get some money out of that, but not much, and here he was spending it all on some booze. Atleast the bar-hag was beginning to look good enough to flirt with... eventually.

The hag sidled over to him, hips waggling in a vain attempt to conjure a sexual appeal that was simply not coming. Still, to Tych's surprise, she looked a little appealing..

"Anything else I can get you, sexy?"

Her voice was seductive in a strange way.

He was running out of coin and he had better save some if he wanted to get a room somewhere, though he wasn't exactly tired... aww what the hell... He gave her another 3 coppers and the mug he had been using. "A little more of that piss water they call ale." After the mug came back and he drank some more he streached a bit and looked around to see if there was any gambleing going on.

There was a game of pakadashah in one corner, a game of dice in another, and in the center of the bar the most popular game was being played - Cunning Poker.

Card games, it relies less on the chance of something happening (since once the cards are suffled they are already in a set order) and more on what others had. He desiced to use the last of his copper coins to try and get a buy in to the poker table. "Greetings mates. Mind if I get a small deal in? A nice chance for you to steal my coppers."

Cunning Poker is reserved only for those who are initiated into the conjuring tricks, so pakadashah it is.

The three men playing paka look at Tyche, size him up. "Sure," said the biggest, scariest one, "We'll buy you in. Ten coin. You play pakashadah?"

"Not really." He says, "But I'm always up for learning new games, let me see a few rounds first." He says slightly annoyed that he hadn't noticed that before he made a fool of himself at the poker table. He listend a bit to their conversation as he watches them closely for a few rounds.

Pakashadah was a relatively simple game, Tyche learnt. Hands were dealt by a dealer who claimed to be entirely neutral behind a black cloth, so the players couldn't see. The deck itself was supplied by the dealer, who claimed ten percent of all winnings. Each card had two faces, and could be flipped once per round. Besides this, the game was essentially like blackjack, except that everyone could see all cards and the dealer couldn't play. The real secrets lay beneath the card faces.

"Flip," said the big man, "Second card."

The dealer flipped his second card - the first was the King of Swords - and the feeble Two of Coins became a Jack of Cups. The biggest man had twenty points, one under the limit, and the others couldn't match that. He won the game.

"So you want to play, stranger?"

Tyche smiled. "Absolutly, this is my type of game, though I do wonder about the card combinations, I mean if you had to have every single combination of two cards... there would be a lot of cards, eventually you must learn what cards flip into what?" He knew he could preform simple math but he didn't want to sound like a complete card-counter. He put his only silver on the table, leaving him with only 4 coppers left. He would need to win this round if he were to continue playing.

He waited for the deal first observeing carefully how it was preformed, then once he had his cards he quickly when through all the possibilties of everyone's cards, knowing that quickly going through the numbers would turn out a 100% for the number that was on the other sides of the cards. Essencially giving him knowlage of both card faces of ALL cards on the table.

"The cards change each game. The dealer keeps the card pool, randomizes the deck between games. Keeps things interesting. This is to avoid counting. Every dealer has a different deck. Dealers must always be neutral, lest we stop playing pakashadah and start playing maloch."

He spat as he said that last word. Maloch: the cheater's game.

The cards were dealt. Bet's laid: ten copper to begin with.

Some phrases from the game of Cunning Poker: "Bluff.. you don't.. swap the cards? .. nice play.."

Some thoughts from the game of Cunning Poker: Bastard thought that he could hold an extra card up his sleeve and we wouldn't notice, huh? Huh?

Trey had two cards: An Eight of Swords and a Three of Cups. Beneath the Three of Cups was a Ten of Cups. Beneath the Eight of Swords was a Ten of Swords. He had a total of twenty, all up.

The others had: nineteen, thirteen, fifteen, six. They could, of course, be dealt another card.

Tyche thinks a bit on his turn, takeing a few moments to consider the ture odds of the game. He then turned over one of his cards (or both if he could this turn). Then stayed.

Tyche was on exactly twenty points.

The big man asked the dealer to hit him a card, and he went bus; twenty-three points.

The two other men attempted to match Tyche but both also busted, at twenty-five and twenty-nine points respectively.

Tyche won the game; he won thirty coppers in addition to his own stake.

"Nice play," said the big man, and the others agreed. "I can respect a play like that. You flipped 'em both. Crazy, but crazy just won you the game. Smoke?"

He offered a cigarette.

"No thanks, bad for the breath. Beginners luck I always say. I mean I was going to lose after I flipped that 18 anyway... and when there is no prize for second place... shoot for the moon. Well then boys lets have another round so someone can earn back there money." He went ahead put 10 of his won coppers out.

He would continue playing the game using his knowlage of the odds to better himself. He also went ahead and listend to the thoughts of the dealer, wondering how 'neutral' he really was. Also any time he won twice in a row, he would buy the table a drink. But he was also careful to loose on purpose 3 times in a row if he won more than 4 out of 6 games, no need to piss off people, or even make them suspect he was cheating.

And so the game went, for hours, the night dwindling on. The dealer was in fact neutral - he was hired by the tavern to deal cards and to settle disputes. He was a paid mercenary turned gambler, and enjoyed watching the cards flow very much. He used to only like playing the game, but now felt satisfied after watching the grace of a well-played game. He liked his job very much.

A few hours on and the big man was treating him like they were best friends, without ever sharing his name; two more people had been bought into the game, raising the number of players to six; the adjacent tables were filled with empty beer mugs; the Cunning Poker had stopped, and a few people were watching the game curiously; the stakes had raised to fifty copper a game, and Tyche was almost eight hundred up; finally, a tall, brown-skinned man wandered over to the table, and Tyche recognized him as playing the game of Cunning Poker before.

The man watched, smiling, admiring the craft. As he watched he smoked.

Tyche stroked his beard looking at the card infront of him. He and the big man were both at 17, a 3, 6, and 8 lay infront of Tyche. Infront of the big man sat a 10, 6, and ace. He had already flipped the the six over, a smart choise. But here was Tyche. He already knew that turning the ten would mean getting an ace, and in a normal game, he would have pulled that crazy stunt for the win. But this wasn't a normal game. What any sain person would do would be to split. A safe gambeler would turn the 6... which he knew he would make him lose from being too low, while turning the 3 mentbusting, but only a fool would do that. The sweat on Tyche brow was not because he was calculating the odds but making the touch choise: Should he win this one and take home another 200 copper (2 full gold coins)... the average sucker's weeks wages. Or lose the game...

And now its time to make my great escape with everyone feeling sorry for me because I only went home with a moderate sum instead of massive amounts.

He flipped the 6 and let out a sigh of defeat as he(and the rest of the table) saw that not a 10 or face card lay there, but a 3... leaving him at 14. Another hit came the face card and he shook his head just imaging the money he lost. He turned to the big man. "Well it was a good game, and I hope your leaveing a richer man, but I think I'll have to bow out now before I lose the rest." If anyone had been keeping strict count that would be 4 gold, 12 silver, and 26 copper pennys and but that was after ales he had bought the table plus tips to the oh so lovely hag but most of that. He head slightly blurred from the several ales he had gone through, but not nearly as much as an average human would. He streached and staggered purposely a bit nodding towards the brown skinned man. "Bit too much I think." He says with a drunken smile.

((Hey if you haven't gotten it currency is:
10 copper -> silver
10 silver -> gold

The gold coins are only about 6 grams (that of a us quater).))

The brown man nodded, smoke wafting around his face mysteriously. His eyes were deep and full.

"Cigarette, brother?"

"Bad for the breath." He says shaking his head which seams to get him a little dizzy. "Good thing I ended up playing this game, mi odds sleemed to be better than skill anyway." He says with a slight slur.

"Yes," said the man, smiling. "The odds did favour you. But tell me, brother.. were you playing straight, or are you one of the Brotherhood? I have not seen your face around, but you played too.. smoothly to be a simple gambler. And I'm not quite so sure you're entirely drunk."

"Am I drunk? Maybe a bit, but am I sober? I don't think I'm ever sober." He says with a smile leading the man to an area away from the gambling, and away from anyone who was playing the game, he ordered a drink for both of them. "As for playing straight... it depends on your definition, if you call insight cheating then yes. But I didn't use any..." One of his gold coins he has flips from knuckle to knuckle, one that the men had seen him put in his leather money bag. "normal... methods such as misdirection, well besides a little acting at the end there." He looked around the room considering the chances of individuals being in this "Brotherhood" (either they are or arn't so its pretty straight forward). "But since you have enlightend me about it may I ask about this brotherhood you speak of?"

At the moment, the brown man is the only man in the Brotherhood.

"The Brotherhood," said the brown man, "As you well know, runs the Triangle of Greed within the city - the three biggest casinos we have. Masters of the tricky arts, of the cunning arts. The Cunning Brotherhood, we are known, or simply the Cunning. The city is run by us and will always be run by us because we hold certain.. secrets."

The man butted his cigarette, lit another.

"Tell me, brother. Tell me the truth. I can't believe that a non-Brotherhood individual could pull the tricks you did.. not unless they were, for example," at this the man revealed a long, steel dagger, "A foreign spy. Say, from Yearth, perhaps."

"Hey mate, no need to be so hostile. I'm no spy, like I said have cirtain insights into things, besides that I played the game straight. While my orgines are quite a mystery, I have always called this town home from the moment I got here." He shrugs and then adds almost casually. "Call me a liar again, though, and I'll make sure you end up tripping and breaking your neck." He takes a drink, the seriousness in his eyes never seen before, but he continued to smile.

"Ah, so you admit you're not from around here?"

The brown man smiles wickedly, smoke curling about him. The long, thin blade shines in the darkness. Silence overwhelms the room. They've seen this before.

"Your threats don't scare me, Yearthling. I've killed sixteen of your brothers."

"Alright this is getting ridiculous... I'm no Yerthing, but it seems I'm going to have to teach you some manners." Tyche upped the man's chance of missing while also raiseing the chance of Tyche hitting he sent a punch straight to the man's nose... mug still in hand.

The man missed - but so did Tyche. The man's blade lashed out towards Tyche, a current of deadly steel.

Tyche suddenly poped out of existence appearing behind the man. Tyche, still holding the mug swung, it towards the back of the man's head as hard as he could.

Tyche feels a little dizzy after the teleportation, but he is successful - the man is struck down, flailing upon the floor. Despite whatever tricks he claimed to have, he did not anticipate that.

The crowd watches on, aghast. They'd never seen someone be both stupid enough to assault a Cunning Man and tough enough to beat him in a fight..

He rolled the man over and took the dagger from him, and several other smaller ones he knew where to look for, but he left any coin purse intact. Then he got some beer from the man's over turned mug and splashed it over the man's face and slapped it a bit. "Wake up sunshine... we've got a lot to talk about." He said holding the dagger up before stepping back and embedding it in a table. "I'm no murderer, nor a spy, I'm a gambeler." He smiled. "Can we talk now?"

The man moaned, opened a blackened eye.

"We'll.. we'll find you, you bastard," he coughed. "We'll find you.. and kill you.. gut you.."

Tyche considered killing the man for a moment, but instead he wanted to walk away a hero. He turns to the bar taking a couple steps toward the man keeping his mind on his to give him a warning if he tries to attack. "My name is Tyche, I'm a professional gambeler and minor magician. Its been a wonderful show ladies and gentlement, but it seems this poor sulk wants me dead. If anyone has any connections to the brotherhood you let them know I'm for hire, despite..." he motions the man. "this man's outragous accusation." He gave a wave to the bartender. "Sorry for the trouble, you want me to clean up or you got it?"

The people were still very shocked. A moment passed before the bartender blurted his reply - he had it.

Most just watched on in silence. Was this one of the mythical Yearthlings?

Tyche took the man's dagger from the table, the man had obviously wanted to give it to him the way he kept trying to hand it to his torso, and then left through the door. Once outside the bar he signed. That was close... too close, and he had resorted to way to desperate actions, and he'd have to eventually kill some poor Yerthling just to prove he wasn't one. He looked in the not so crowded streets, he pulled his cloak over his head despite the warm night air. He strolled down the packed clay road... going to find the Casino's of the Triangle of Greed. Besides, this might be a nice test to see how his inflitration skills fair.

The Triangle of Greed - three casinos, lit all night, forming an invisible triangle within the center of the city. When the seediest and the classiest clubs, bars and taverns closed late at night, these three remained open. They were heavily guarded, and where the greatest gambles are made. Three great, obsidian towers, dominating the city skyline.

They were named the Point, the Line, and the Triangle. The names had meaning. There were two obvious entrances to each of the towers, and both were guarded well.

He would start with the point, though he did wonder how they got an entire place built out of obsidian when there were not volcainos for miles and miles.

The Point was large, black, a sinister presence on the skyline. The entrance was guarded by military men carrying swords and shields. The city's elite wandered in and out of the place at ease.

--

Elsewhere:


A thousand screams - the blackness of an age - ancient volcanoes - cityscape - triangles, triangles, triangles - the point and the line -

A flash.

He was there.

(From (Pha-Hu) Temple)
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:47, Tue 01 Sept 2009.

Tyche looks over in the distence senseing the other god... well this was the city of dreams, and may he find all he wished here. Just be careful.... he though, somehow knowing the god would receive his thought.

Tyche nodded at the armed gaurds and went in if they allowed it. "Time to win some dough." He said.

He is allowed in.

He enters a large, elaborately furnished room, filled with red rugs, golden decorations, strange paintings, couches, chairs, tables.. it was a dining room and a waiting room in one, and many folk were sitting and eating, or sipping at coffee, or chatting pleasantly. Black-coated waiters wandered around, taking orders and bringing food and drinks. There was a large archway to the back end of the room, with the words, May you see success engraved upon the top, and to the right were several nondescript entrances - where the waiters came from.

"May I help you, sir?" said the doorman, bowing slightly.

"I'd feel like roulette, if the hour's not to late..." he says.

"Of course not, sir," said the man. "What will you be bidding with, if I might ask? Simple coin?"

"Thats all I have so far..." He says.

"Sure," said the man. "Right this way, sir."

He led Tyche through the gateway and into a fabulous area filled with lights and sound. He passed many gambling tables and eventually found himself to the roulette wheel.

Ah roulette. Now this was a game that his particular... skills would be very very good at. Once the ball hits the wheel, he would be see the odds and know which number it would land on, and even if someone was cheating by using a magnet, wieghted ball, or some other mechanical system that didn't involve someone actually grabbing the ball, he would see that as well.

He pulled out a copper and tipped the doorman, then got out some silver and began to watch a bit senseing the wheel and its odds to see how "real" the game was before putting down his own chips. He would be sure to keep his wins at standard odds while throwing a couple copper pieces on wild-cards he knew would lose (or the other way around to get break even). But he would use his skills to double his money in the course of 10 minutes or so. He got more dareing as he kept winning (as all casions want) and began to put a couple gold(think gold=100 bucks) on 4 individual numbers, each with 30 to 1 odds... he made sure to put down a gold on the number that would get hit... no matter how odd it seemed.

Soon, a small crowd had gathered to watch the man who would win at roulette. By that point, Tyche had made quite a lot of money.

He places quite a few gold down, 15 golds on 8 different numbers, making sure that something with 1 gold on it won. He then goes to a maneger of some sort. "Sir I wonder, is it possible to put all my chips on a single number... and for the casino's sake I would be willing to switch balls and tables from the one I have been useing. Lets see, lets see, that would be around 50 gold on one number." ((Thats like a 30:1 odds. If I lose, the casino gets back the near 43 gold I have won so far plus what I came in with, but if I win that means they owe me 1500 gold(plus the 50 I bet.))
This message was last edited by the player at 13:13, Wed 02 Sept 2009.

The casino had identified Tyche as a high-roller.

"Yes, sir, right away," said the manager.

They take him to a private table with a roulette wheel made of fine wood.

He picks up a single gold coin, "This will represent my 50 gold he says to the crowd. Feel free to place any wagers on my win." He says jokingly as murmers go around the room wondering if I would put it on the near 50/50 chance ones, or go more risky. He nods to the spinner and then the ball goes around the routlette wheel as it goes around he hovers the gold piece above the board considering all the odds before finding its final resting place. Then he will use a bit of his own power to increase the odds of it landing there and then sets the gold down on that number.

The odds looked good.

The ball landed, coin dropped, manager smiled..

The odds looked bad.

Tyche lost.

"Better luck next time, sir," said the manager. "May I offer you a complimentary drink?"

"Of course... I think I'll need it, mind joining me?" He asks politly.

The manager smiled apologetically. "Sorry, sir, but I am very busy this evening. If you like, however, I could send a beautiful woman to drink with you?"

"No you see I wanted to know how one of your Cunning pulled off that trick, it was very nice, and don't worry I'm not down about losing money, I can get 50 gold a day if I need to." He said all of this with a smile, and a bit of a hushed tone. "I figure showing a bit of my skill might interest some people. You don't think I won all that gold without blindly did you? But don't worry, I'm not the type to hoard money, but I figure the Brotherhood might need someone who's willing to pass along winning from other casios... or even the local tavern games."

"Trick?" said the manager easily, innocently. "What trick? What cunning? What are you talking about, sir?"

He thinks for a moment. "Sir do you have a maneger above you?" He uses his mind to listen if the man thinks about the answer and also listens to see who knew what happened to the table, suddenly thoughts turning like sound to him.

"Of course, sir. Would you care to see them?"

Too many wavetech? thoughts in the casino.. static, almost.. chip? also, Tyche suspects the manager has something to hide his thoughts.. he's only getting glimpses ..
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:25, Thu 03 Sept 2009.

"Yes I would, I have some questions for them..." he looks outside. "Oh my its morning already it seems." He did not like that he couldn't sense the man's thoughts, thoughts were suppost to be like sound, flowing freely through the air, not cooped up inside a man's head. "Thats good I guess they might be up now."

"Okay, let me grab them for you," the man said, and left through a closed door.

He did not return.

Tyche waited a bit before going in the door that the man went through. Time to do a little digging.

The door was locked.

The smell of the casino at this hour, the lights, they were nauseating.

Tyche desided that he needed to get out now. He could always come back. He left the casino and headed outside.

It was wet. It was raining. The smell of fresh rain on filthy stone was an appealing one, strange enough - like sulfur, almost. The streets were empty, save for a small handful of people lurking about, entering and exiting the casinos.

Tyche sighs a bit and wanders the city while he thinks about things. The brother hood were a bit too powerful he thought for his realm. They needed to be balenced a bit he thought, but he had tried to get on their good side a bit by going in the casino. But that casino, it was almost like another place, like an illusion of some sort. He was good at magic he knew that, but magic was work, and he didn't like work. So instead he just wandered the streets with his hood over him to keep the rain off looking for any coin, or anyway to get any. Perhaps he might actually take up a job, he looked at local tavern boards that he passed.

Many taverns were looking for staff, and most paid reasonably well. Tyche soon became drenched, and the only gambling games on the streets were the illicit, dodgy ones hidden away in little alleyways.

Tyche tried to find a reasonably large tavern, though nothing industrial. He would warm himself by the fire. He then took out a flute, and began to play a sweet melody describing with music the bad luck he had been feeling.

The sounds swept through the noisy tavern, and soon he was joined by a youngish looking blond bard.

"Hey there," he said. "How'd you learn to play so well?"

"I've loved music from birth." He says not quite answering the question, but giving an reasonable responce. "Its not really a passion, more of a soothing thing for me. You play anything or sing?" He asks.

"I compose, mostly," admitted the bard, "But I can play the flute and guitar. I'm curious as to your musical style. It seems different - otherworldly, even - from what we're used to."

His smile slashed upon his boyish face.

He thinks about it. "Its difficult to explain since I was in a sense, born here, but I'll just say your close." The flute twirls in his hands, barley touching his finger tips it seems before dissapearing down his sleave, without the man noticeing of course. "Voila!" He says with a relaxed smiles. His arm shook hard and suddenly the flute was in his hand again. "Man... I need some weed." He says rubbing his temples, come to think about it he hasn't really slept in days, and while he didn't need to sleep, he sure could use some with all the stress he's been having.

He turned back to the bard done with his extreamly simple trick. "By the way you wouldn't know where a tavern musician would be needed would you? I'm low on cash and while a gambeling man usually, it doesn't feel right taking tavern folks money while the Triangle of Greed holds most of the cities money."

"If you're that good, have you considered playing for the Brotherhood over in the Temple of No God's Sound? They pay extremely well there, and rightfully so - they make a killing!"

Tyche wanted to laugh. "I'm not quite sure the I'm on good terms with them, I submitted my resume... but that was after I got into an altercation with a cunning man, so I don't have much hope on them accepting me." He then quickly added. "Idiot thought I was a Yearthing and tried to kill me." To justify his fight.

"Idiot? You're calling a Cunning Man.. an idiot? That itself is stupidity, friend. I'd hold your tongue, lest you choose to lose it."

Tyche smiled. "For one thing, I'm better than the average Cunning Man" He shrugged. "But I understand what you mean." He thought about it for a second. "You know what, who knows, maybe if their not interested in me being one of their Cunning Men, I'll be a flute player in their pay instead." He looked outside the window. "Well, maybe when it stops raining... so then compser eh? Got anything good I could play?"

"A few things. Let me find you my finest work."

He rummages through his sack and pulls out a folded sheet of paper, passing it towards Tyche.

Tyche reads through the papers mumbleing the notes he reads on them trying to find something that would make a good piece of a flute, something higher and more cheerful, something that might bring the sun out, if only in the tavern.

No notes - just: We are legion.

Suddenly, Tyche feels an immense shoot of pain run through his veins. He'd been stabbed in the hand.

Tyche looks back at the man. "Now that wasn't nice." He said touching the mans mind with his own, and his magic force behind it.

The man blinks, grimaces, and his eyes close softly.

Tyche adjusted the man in a more confertable position in the chair with his good hand while using the paper he had to cover the bleeding hand. If anyone looks he smiles and says. "Too much to drink and a lullby is a bad combination." He then sits back and relaxs in his own chair looking over to the sleeping man. He relaxs his eyes a bit and lets his mind connect to the other mans sleeping one. His telepathy would find the doors while his mental magic would be probeing down the different halls drawing up memories of the brother hood, especially anything linked to his orders here.

Tyche found that he could access the man's mind easily enough, but not pull up anything immediately useful - there was too much static. If he wished to draw memories, he'd need to take the man to a quieter place and enact the rituals of the field of Mind.

Tyche sighed... oh the complications of magic. Psionics were simplier... if not more stressful. He "patted" the man. "Lets get you to bed." he said while lifting his coin purse. Then making it appear from his own coat he checked it quickly (for traps) before he called an inn keeper. "Can we get a room, apparently my pal thought it was nap-time."

"Of course, sir," said the innkeep. "Room and meals are five copper a night."

He handed her five coppers. "Alright, have anyone to help?" He said trying lifting him up. "Wouldn't want him ending up in the drunk-tank."

"Suzanne," he barked, and his attractive, dark-haired daughter - no older then sixteen - moved to assist Tyche move the man up to his room. The room itself was dusty, dingy, filled with cobwebs and strange marks. There were, however, two mattresses and something altogether new.. it was a medium-sized thing, made of a strange green, soft metal - was it metal? Or hard cloth? - with a glass globe upon the top of it.

"Lamp," said the innkeeper. "Fancy, eh?"

"Interesting lamp, hrug." He said lifting the man on to the bed. "Alright, well I'm undressing him, and its his own damn fault for passing out." He shakes his head then smiles back at the young women, who was technicly older than he since he had just been "born" days ago.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:44, Fri 11 Sept 2009.

They both smiled and moved out.

"Can I send up some coffee, sir?" asked the innkeep. "A copper."

"Of course, of course." He said and gave her a four coppers. "Be sure its fresh, and cream and sugar please. Keep the change." He said with a wink. After she left he did go over the man one more time removeing weapons from him, as well as his boots. He put most of them under the bed. He then set down his own small pack on his bed, took off his boots and began to consider what he would need to do to properly preform the ritual. No doubt a nice cup of coffee would help though.

He stroked his chin while waiting for her to return. Fancy lamp indeed... he considered the odds of the inn being in cahoots with the brotherhood. Then he went on to consider the odds of the innkeeper and finally the young woman. He really should consider the odds before jumping into things, but that too time effort, and too much cautiousness that he wasn't generally accustom to.

The odds of the innkeeper being in league with the Brotherhood: eighty-five percent.

If Tyche wished to cast a spell, he would have to meditate on just what he wanted to achieve with it.

Still waiting for the coffee he considers the ritual needed to see the man's memories about the Brotherhood.

The coffee was bitter, but good. Not the type Tyche was typically used to.

Considering this was his first cup of coffie... ever... he wondered a bit how he knew what to compare it too, though he didn't dwell. "Umm, one sec." he said to the girl quickly before he left. "Do you happen to know where I could get a joint?" He ask casually not really careing if it was aginst some taboo or not.

"A joint?"

She didn't understand the terminology.

"A joint of what?"

He had to think for a bit, not remembering the long technical name. "Weed? Grass? It's something you smoke, takes the edge off things, help people relax. Goes great with good company though."

"You want narcotics?" she asked, a little wearily. "Why are you asking me?"

"I asked if you knew where to get any." he shrugged. "You don't know, say you don't know, you don't want to say, say you don't know. I mean its not like I'm ordering you to get any." He is open to the girls mind of course...

He learns that her father doesn't like the idea of her taking narcotics of any variety, but that she occasionally gets some hashish from the under-market beneath Little Bridge, a block down from the inn.

"I.. I have no idea, sorry. Sir."

Atleast she won't go telling her father. He smiled and said "Strict dad huh? Oh well, thanks for the coffee." After she left he went over to the man and put him in a bit of a temporary coma something that should last through for a couple hours. He drank a little bit more coffee before looking at his hand. It had stopped bleeding pretty fast, he shouldn't even have a scar by tomarrow night. He pulls up his small pack and heads downstiars, if he sees the inkeeper or his daughter he will listen to their thoughts on his way out, but doesn't look at any of them.

He then heads down towards the little bridge.

He soon finds the under-market - a group of individuals dressed to look as if they were homeless, but in fact qealthy narcotics dealers.

"What can we do you?"

"I'm looking for a little mind-opener." He said, though I doubt they knew he ment it quite literally. "Don't want to go too deep, just something to take of the edge..."

They looked at him suspiciously.

"You with the Brother?" one asked.

He listens to their thought first, seeing which answer they prefered.

They preferred for him not to be with the Brotherhood.

"Nope, don't like their style, to... restrictive. Seriously though stop messing around, you have something or not?" He said not trying to sound like an addict, just, annoyed at the question.

"You got the cash, then?" one asked.

"How much?" He asks.

"Two silver an ounce," he said. "Updown."

"One and one half per, for 3 ounces." He counters.

The man grunts.

"This is not a negotiation.. friend."

"Fine, but only 1 ounce then." He said frowning then he reached in his jacket into the purse he took from the brother (without taking it out) and got out 2 silver.

"Thank you."

They passed over the updown, a small packet of black powder.

He went ahead and red the man's mind before leaving makeing sure it was a legitiment deal, and also wondering what to do with it (smoke, eat, snort?)

The deal was completely legitimate. They were running a shady under-market, yes, but without honesty there city-folk would go elsewhere.

Tyche was to ingest the powder.

Tyche tucked the small packed inside one of the hidden pockets in his shirt and made his way back to the motel room. He waited outside and listend to the thoughts around him to get the general feeling of the place. If it seemed normal he would go upstairs to his room. Again before entering he would listen for any thoughts to see if anyone was in there (besides the sleeping man) before going in.

The man, Tyche realized suddenly, wasn't sleeping.

After double checking to make sure everything was ok down-stairs (ignoring upstairs). He made his way upstairs carefully and at the ready for an attack. He waited outside the door for a bit scanning the area for minds (not direction since I doubt I could tell that) but instead just what they are thinking (anyone near him). If can't sense anything in the room, he goes in anyway and inspects the place.

There was nothing, no one in the room. It was left untouched.

He signed. Well... atlease he got some drugs for later. "Knew I should have left a note..." he says smileing. He desides to spend the night atleast since he paid for it. He actually tries sleeping (though lightly).

Tyche finally falls asleep..

.. but throws himself awake seemingly moments later. Bright light everywhere - no, no, no, smoke, fire! The room was on fire! Flames flicked everywhere, and sweat dripped down Tyche's face at the heat. It was hard to see - harder to breath, but he managed, thanks to his Divine body.

He noticed to hit shock that there was a black dagger stabbed into his pillow, next to where his head was sleeping. A warning, perhaps - or a last mocking nod?

Ironicly Tyches first question wasn't about who or what... but about the girl. She didn't deserve this. He pushed his mind to the limit trying to find hers, fire and smoke would not stop the mind.

Screams.

Agony.

Panic.

Confusion.

Pain.

He couldn't find the girl, not in this..

The flames begin to lick Tyche's boots, and he feels them singe. He smells burning flesh and hair - realises it to be his own..

Tyche's mind was ablazed. He had to save here... he had to save her! HE HAD TO! There was a something like the sound of blast as suddenly the air where Tyche was bent and then was sucked into the the space where he used to be.

He teleported from mind to mind, flicking through the house ignoring his physical and mental pain, his mind completely focused. Once he got to her he would grab and teleport her out of the flames strait to the river that bridge he saw by the bridge where he got the drugs.

He found the girl - found her - got her out -

They both crashed into the river, flailing. Tyche had a massive headache - it felt like some part of it had died. The limp body of the girl lay in his arms.

Tyche swam to shore from the shallow river. He looked at the girl, and checked if she was still alive and how damaged she was.

She was dead.

Tyche was unsure whether or not it was because of the burns or because of the damage the smoke had done to her lungs, but she was dead.

Tyche slumped forward and hugged her body tightly both out of loss and guilt. Tears out from his eyes. He didn't know her... he didn't know anyone there. But that was a cruelty he would not tolorate in his realm. He didn't care if they were or weren't his people. He would hunt the brotherhood down... and kill whoever was responcible for the fire. He let her down genetally and let knelt by her side for a bit, recovering from the teleporting.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:24, Wed 16 Sept 2009.

It started to rain, washing away Tyche's tears. He could smell smoke; taste ash; see the glow of a blazing fire nearby.

Tyche stood up and focused. He would make them pay... anyone who had anything to do with that fire. He had shown nothing but kindness to the eneamy even at his own peril. But they had gone too far, innocents had been killed. And so he would destory them. But first, he needed some tools.

Reality infront of him reality "bent" until there was a sort of swril infront of him. He steped through alone into Chalybis' realm.

There was steel - rust - an ancient domain - the smoke of a thousand furnaces - tick, tick, tick - the sound of clocks -

(Continue in (Chalybis's) Realm)

Tyche reappered here and survayed the area, not sure if he would return where he left, or if time would have passed. Perhaps the timeflow was non-existent in the realm without him.

It seemed a week had passed, maybe a little more.

He was nearby the river at which illicit drugs were sold under bridges and rogue Gods teleported towards.

Tyche had very few leads... but he did have one: Temple of No God's Sound the one thing the man had said before he was done. Apparently musical people found jobs there, maybe he could put that to use. But first, he would have to get ready.

He headed away from the tavern that got burnt down, up back onto the road. He made his way looking for a cloathing shop feeling in his inside pocket just how much money he had left.

He had plenty of coin left.

He soon found a small, quiet-looking - but pleasant - merchantshop that dealt in male's clothes.

Tyche enters the place hearing a bell jingle as the door opens. He looks around at the different fabrics strewn about, different dies and textures. The air a bit stuffy though because of all the cloth. "Hello." he says simply.

"Nice day," smiles the shopkeep, a tall, blond, woman. She's young, with rose cheeks, and has a dreamy smile about her. "How can I help, sir?"

"I'm looking for some new cloaths." He asked. "Something a bit flashy, though not silly. Maybe some purple and yellow. Of course if you have any suggetions, I would be happy to hear some."

There was a heavy flop outside, like something had fallen from the sky.

"Hmm," she replied, looking at Tyche. "Maybe dark browns? I think that would - oh fuck fuck what is that oh -"

She was staring at whatever was behind Tyche, through the windows of the shop. She would be staring that way for a very long time. She was made of stone - petrified.

Something hissed, gobbled at little outside. Tyche heard the sound of claws on stone.

This... would be annoying. He made sure he was hidden behind a band of cloath or doorway. Tyche remember the position down the street and suddenly appeared there. From that position he tried to connect to the nearest supernatural mind aka (whatver the hell it was that petrified her) to figure out just what the conclave had sent.

There was gobbling. There was clucking. Screams. Then silence.

Tyche realized the thing was a cockatrice - it had the form and wings of a dragon, but the head of a rooster.

A cockatrice had fallen from the sky, right to the shop where Tyche was searching for clothes.

What were the odds?

While he did know the odds, and the cause behind it. He still needed to stop it. He looked around the buildings to try and see if anyone had a mirror for sale, or something like that.

A mirror? In the city of dreams? They were everywhere!

Tyche felt another vibration occur, somewhere near he was standing, and caught the back of another cockatrice.

Was it.. raining cockatrices? That would be bizarre.

Tyche used what knowlage he knew of abjuration to sense and block whatever magic was sending these things here. After that tyche grabbed the nearest small mirror he could (just taking it from a shop yelling "I'll bring it back." if someone noticed). He then used the mirror to look around first. He would have to get rid of them somehow... his first thought was about the new weapon, but now that there were two... he would have to send them somewhere else. He thought about it and smiled, why not right back to the conclave. But that still required touching them, and doing it twice would strain his brain. He began to feed a buffer of mental energy into his mind with magic as he looked for the closest cockatrice stealthly.

Whatever was sending them here, Tyche could not sense, let alone block; even if it was possible, his skill in the art of abjuration was too low for any solid effects.

Tyche easily found the mirror shop, but the owner had been turned to stone. A heavy thud told Tyche that perhaps another cockatrice had fallen somewhere nearby. He easily found a hand-sized mirror - and naturally tried to stop him. There were screams nearby, and large banging noises in the distance.. gunfire, perhaps?

The mind meditations didn't 'buff' his mind, per se, but they stilled and disciplined it, strengthening and adding to his natural mental defenses. He concentrated on a yellow pyramid.. the sound of flight..

There was a cockatrice nearby. It was in one of the dingier alleys off the main street, feasting on the corpse of a non-petrified individual - it's eyes were closed, and it's birdish faced seemed almost content as it gobbled at the flesh of the human. Tyche could see it's draconic tale flapping as if it were a humble dog.

Tyche drew out the gun, and began to improve the chances of the bullet hitting some critical area of its brain teleported directly behind it's head. Then shot at near point blank range.

Tyche hit the cockatrice square in the back of the head.

Screaming, it's eyes open, it's began to flail, it's death-throws ripping up the pavement and stone walls around it. It turned to glance at Tyche, and while he felt a painful rush of sensation - as if every nerve within his body had suddenly been switched on at once - he didn't turn to stone. The screams of the thing run out through the empty night, pierced only by the sounds of alarms and gunfire in the distance..

Tyches eyes rolled up into the back of his head it seemed. His legs failed and he dropped. He looked up and saw the thing had died. "I need a bigger gun." He said to himself. Taking out the silver dagger of the thing he moved to a position behind its head and began to cut out the thing's eye socket without nicking the eye. He used the mirror to help him aim his knife. He sensed for more cockatrice minds in the area, not quite wanting to be exposed from behind like the man who he had just seen being eaten by one.

It was difficult to cut through the scales beneath the head's fur, nut Tyche managed to take the eye socket. He sensed at least a dozen cockatrices in the area - no, gunfire.. maybe eleven cockatrices. A war, of sorts, was being waged in the streets of the City of Dreams.

Tyche took his cloak off and used it to wipe the eye clean of the blood and then wrapped it inside of it, it might be useful at one point. He pocketed his gun and then teleported to roof top of one of the buildings by the ally he was in. He looked the closest area were fighting was going on. He would have to assume the brother hood were defending their turf... but he still wanted to send one of these things back to where they came from (and perhaps go there himself just to see where).

Once he found out where the nearest fight was he would run across the rooftops to get there, letting his mind rest from the teleports he had already used.

Tyche, once he'd reached the rooftop, saw the closest battle - and it surprised him. Five men, clothed in heavy armour of white porcelain - but softer, it seemed - gleaming with blue underneath and painted with red glyphs were assaulting a nest of three cockatrices. They had heavy masks over their face, also painted with the red glyphs. The glyph seemed to be protecting them from whatever supernatural force turned those hit by the cockatrice's gaze to stone.

They bore firearms, much like Tyche's own, but heavier and made out of a substance of seemingly diamond. They made loud sounds when fired, and the cockatrices were easily slain. They then moved to find more. Tyche could see cockatrices falling freely from the sky, now - a full-on assault from a force unknown, or at least, a force suspected.

As Tyche ran towards the men, he saw the stone roof beside him crash and was sent tumbling across. A cockatrice had fallen there, and crowed menacingly towards him..

Tyche teleported on top of its bod and place both hands down and focused hard, sending the damn thing to the valley.

A quick pop - the energy rushing - rushing - rushing out of Tyche's body - the cockatrice was gone - but - he'd collapsed..

Tyche crashed upon the stone floor, writhing in agony. His head felt as if it'd been crucified.

Tyche decides to crawl to the nearest hole and wait it out now. There was no way he'd be battle-ready (if you can call what he had been doing "battle" besides, the "Brotherhood" seemed to be taking care of things. He used his own mental-magic to ease his pain if he was able to do anything about it.

His pain started to fade away. It was an extremely slow process. Screams, barked orders, gunfire, explosions.. as Tyche hid behind the rubble of a public water fountain, he heard all these. He smelt brimstone and hot lead. There were often detonations nearby - like thundercracks of light and fury - and Tyche was almost brained several times by the rubble.

Tyche now began to get up. That wasn't exactly a pleasant thing to go through and he wouldn't be doing it again, but at least he knew if the worst came... he could get rid of one that way. He looked up and tried to find the nearest battle going on, or to find anyone with a one of those suits on. Though when he went he was creeping around, making sure nothing was going to get him from behind and that he could sneak up on anything that was ahead. If he saw anyone with suits on, he acted as mortal as possible. "Hey! What the hell is going on." He would say. "How can I help." He would ask.

If Tyche wanted to adequately pass as a mortal, then perhaps he should question as a mortal: by using question marks instead of full stops at the end of his sentence, perhaps. But this was trivial. He soon came upon a small band of warriors wearing the red and blue armour. They also held the automatic weapons which had caused so much damage. As they saw him, they raised their weapons..

"Hold!" send one.

"I'm picking up significant theoelectromagnetic readings.." said another. They all pointed their weapons at Tyche.

"Explain yourself!"

Significantly reducing chances I am hit if they fire. They wen't "normal" brotherhood. "Before I explain, I'm on your side, I've gotten rid of two by myself." He didn't want to say the G-word... not with the automatic weapons pointed at him. "I'm connected to the realm so I can defend it against any attacks." (not exactly a lie). "So right now lets put crap behind us and go cock-hunting before more people get killed, after that I'll explain more to your superiors."

"Cock-hunting, huh?" the leader repeated, one eyebrow raised. The others were trying to stifle sly smiles

"Must be a God.. only they'd say something like that with a straight face.."

The tension seemed to ease a little, but the weapons were still raised. The leader's eyes dashed towards his supposed second-in-command, the one who had proclaimed Tyche as Divine.

"Can I get a better reading on that?" he asked.

"Yeah.. Purr-joh-pee-air, Sarge, possibly some form of entropy fueling.. the reading's all hazy.. luck? Chaos? Chance? Something along those lines.."

"Hmmm," the Sergeant looked perplexed. "How do we know you're not with the goddamn Conclave? What proof do you have? I say we shoot you right now."

Tyche knowing this day would come, wanted to laugh as the stupidity of the question, be kept a concerned face and put his hands up. "Really? You think I like having it raining Cockatrice in my home?

As for physical proof... I mean its not like they hand out badges, like I said, we can deal with it later, preferably after it stop raining the super-roosters." Just to check, he double-check and felt how many were left in the realm.

The reader nodded in response to her Sergeant's glance. "He's telling the truth, Sarge. He's bonded to this Realm.. weird, I thought it was empty.."

"Yeah, me too. Anything else?"

"Doesn't hold any of the Callisti-patterns. If he's an Associate.."

"If he's an Associate we can break him in. Huh. Okay."

The Sargeant moved towards Tyche, and looked at him square in the eye.

"You're lucky you're useful. You better not make me regret this. If I see anything shady, I'll shoot you. Got a weapon?"

Tyche was just glad someone had enough sense to ask questions first and then not shoot. "Got daggers and this, but no ammo." He said patting his supernatural pistol at his side.

"Ammo? Don't need any ammo. Good. You'll be coming with us. Any funny business.." The Sarge made a movement with his hands, a small vibration, that made it clear that Tyche'd be shot if he tried anything.

"Okay, what we'll do.. Liz, keep the Divine in the middle. Don't talk to him. You're in charge of reading him.. any spikes, if he tries any powers, anything, you shoot."

"Yes, Sarge," said the soldier who could read signatures.

"Okay. Now, we're Strike Team B, as you all know. We get to the Point. We shoot our way in. We get to the lowest level, seize the Spider-weapon, get out. Kill as many sonuvabitch Brotherhood bastards as you can. Cockatrice's should be shot on sight. Any Conclavers, too. It's Earth vs. Them, soldiers, and Earth'll come out on top."

He raised his weapon. Tyche noticed the others stayed on him.

"For Earth! For the Territories! For the death of the Conclave!"

They roared.

Tyche played along with them, this would be fun.

The squad of Earthborn - with Tyche in the center, the gun of the reader-woman behind him - moved on through the City of Dreams. Some areas of the city were pristine - untouched by the urban warfare that was occurring between man and cockatrice - and some areas were only rubble and melted iron. Gunfire in the distance. Squeals and screams. The smell of brimstone and blood and burning flesh.

They came upon four cockatrices, and managed to kill them all without taking any casualties. Their armour, it seemed, protected them from the deathly gaze..

"Seeing as how you guys seem to have things under control." he said as they wandered the streets. "Lets do a bit of information exchange, well start with some introductions maybe? I am Tyche God of Chance, Colourless, aka conclave doesn't like me, something to do with me assaulting a Systemarch in the Temple of the Sun."

There was no answer. Silence. Tyche realised they were getting closer to the Point - to one of the three grand casinos within the City of Dreams. There was a heavy tension in the air. They turned a corner - saw a cockatrice - and gunfire rung out into the night.

Suddenly, the Sergeant stopped.

"What sort've abilities do you have to mess with this place?" he asked Tyche.

"I never really tried, I'm not into messing with places... usually just playing around. But so far every enemy you have is an enemy of mine. Don't shoot me I'm going to see how connected to the land I am." He focused on himself and the land and the connection between them.

The Sergeant nodded. "If you see a sudden spike, shoot. Chance-God, you'd be very wise to take things slowly.."

Tyche, for one of the rare moments of his considerably short life, felt his conscious mind enter the mystical connection between he and his Realm, between Tyche and the City of Dreams..

He suddenly knew that this place, while it would always be his, was an independent child of his divinity; one he had no control over. He could not, for example, shift it with his mind or sense anything except for the presences of intruder Divines and other great presences. It was a bizarre feeling, like sticking his head under warm water..

His powers worked more easily here, however, though his more "unconventional" (read: psychic) abilities were still a strain. Despite his run of bad luck, things ran in tune with him within the City, and most important events concerned him in one way or another..

Despite this autonomy, however, Tyche knew that if he needed to he could take the life-force of this place and crush it within his hands. This was his right, and it could not be taken from him. He could still manipulate the essence of the place.

"No, in exchange for its continuous evolution I have given up control over it. I realize that mortals possess far more potential for improvement than the divine, to not have time against you is to become stagnation. Look at earth..." He said. "Did just fine without gods. Of course like any parent, I would protect the place, even if it means killing myself. Everything Balances in the end." He said, knowing that taking the essence of the place was something like murdering your children in his eyes, something that would never be done.

"Unh," the Sergeant grunted, a little pleased at the answer. "All good and everything, and on another day I'd buy you a drink for a bullshit answer like that, but you can't, I don't know, fuck things up a little? Just a little'd help. Buy your life, and all of that."

Tyche raises an eyebrow. "While I hope you'll take that figuratively, since it helps aabout as much here as it does in a race... What exactly are you wanting me to do? I mean I was working on Brining down the Brotherhood before the Cockatrice even showed up. They've monopolised everything to the point of running the place, and I could tell they were out-side influenced, I just didn't know by who. But I'm guessing the conclave since Earth seems to be aginst them? Right so far?"

A cockatrice fell and was promptly shot.

After the gunfire..

"Not all of Earth. Most still believe the Enemy to be a guiding force of goodness and light. They, of course, are fools. Your Realm has the honour of being a natural outpost-realm in proximity to the Valley of Ten Towers, with the added bonus of it being filled with natural resources and a high technological level. The Conclave set the Brotherhood up here to rule it from the shadows, and we're taking it back."

The soldiers seemed a little more relaxed around Tyche. They were approaching the casino.

Tyche frowned. "This sort of open warfare is not what the city is used to. Also the casino's they run are massive and filled with magic, powerful magic. My question is, if the conclave supported the brotherhood why send the Cockatrice... they are only disrupting the realm they already have a hold in."

The Sergeant looked at Tyche as if he were an idiot.

"You.. have no idea, do you?" he asked. The entire squad seemed a little shocked.

Tyche sighed. "I'm sort of newly born, realms make gods... not the other way around."

"Perhaps," said the Sergeant, shrugging. They were at a corner - in the next street was the casino.

"Readings?" asked the Sergeant.

"Six guards. Human. Possible Earthborn weaponry."

The Sergeant gestured for silence, and then took a round ball from his belt and flung it around the corner. There was an explosion, and screams.

"Move!" he yelled, and for once Tyche was left standing by himself as the soldiers easily finished the guards off. Tyche noticed that the path was charred where the weapon had blasted it, and rubble lined the front of the Point.

"Alright..." He said getting into his pack he gets out pen and papers out. He writes a couple notes to Chalybis all saying (in big print):

*Chalybis!*
*Big fight going on In City of Dreams*
*Earthen Soldiers + High Tech Weapons*
*Lots of Fun! Oh and don't look at in eyes!*

He grabs them and before teleporting one to Chalybis in his realm he uses his power to increase the chance of him finding it. He then does the same for the city of Niborkerese just in case he is there as well.

The gunfire continued; obviously, more guards, possibly with firearms, had rushed out to fight the Earthborn squad.

The two notes disappeared silently.

Tyche used his mirror to look around the corner to watch the fighting seeing how had lived and who had died.

The Earthborn were covered in the blood - the blood of their enemy. An eery silence descended upon the ruined street, pierced by a single gunshot. The Sergeant had executed his last enemy. His soldiers took strategic positions outside of the casino, and the reader glanced nervously towards the location of Tyche.

Don't try to vanish..

The thought made itself obvious in Tyche's mind.

((The reader?))

(The soldier who could scan you and your abilities.)

I'm not. He says completely truthfully back to the mind who contacted him. So is this legal where you are from? He asks back.

Where the note had disappeared not long ago, a flash of red light appeared, bringing into existence the characteristic orb of reddish mist that accompanied Chalybis' portals. It formed a massive elliptical shape, one which Tyche knew to be just large enough to contain Chalybis Himself. As it finished growing, it contained a piece of the ground and several small portions of walls and roofs belonging to nearby buildings. It solidified as usual, and in a second - and final - flash of red, He had arrived. Along with Him came a cloud of smoke - the atmosphere that had been around Him, and a 'floor' of rusted steel that replaced the cobblestones that had been captured within the portal.

I: Explain The Reasons For Which Tyche Has Summoned Chalybis To This Realm He decreed loudly, immediately fixing His gaze upon Tyche's person due to the warning not to look at any eyes. He did not quite understand why this was, so it was up to Tyche to explain this to Him in a satisfactory manner, lest He decide that this was a waste of His time and depart at once. Still, there did appear to be a strong humanoid presence around Him - and in the momentary glance He had taken before focusing on Tyche He had noticed that there were the signs of combat in the area, involving weapons that matched the description of 'Earthborn'. Perhaps there was something to gain here after all...

"Don't shoot him! I called for back-up, you wanted me to do something, so I did what I could." He said to the Earthborn squad. "If Chalybis sees a dragon-chicken looking thing he would be wise to shoot it without looking at it for the Cockatrice can petrify beings with a glance."

Don't kill these Earthborn, Tyche still wantss to see if he can get a weapon without killing them.

The Earthborn dash over towards Tyche and Chalybis.

"You send for him, huh?" said the Sergeant. "What's your game, metal? This isn't your war. Get away."

Tyche knew where this was about to go so he mentally pleaded with Chalybis.Ignore him, let Tyche try trickery so that peace can be maintained with these people after this incident, and perhaps be able to get an earthen engineer for Chalybis to mentally drain.

Tyche held up his hands to both Chalybis and the Sergeant. He speaks directly to the Sergeant. "You'll have to talk to me, he's as much a machine as a god and right now he is following my orders. Orders that WILL be overridden if you threaten his being! But you kill me, and he kills you and the brotherhood... and I still reappear within a couple days. But thats only after he sucks every bit of information out of your minds. Treat him as you would a gun I wield with a mutual destruction policy and automatic firing on what it deems enemy targets.

I don't want to threaten you... I am still trying to help archive BOTH of our goals. Now can we please destroy these casinos and wipe-out any conclave infestations that are in my realm!"

Whilst Chalybis was somewhat offended by the things Tyche implied about Him to the mortals, He knew that this would only help to serve His own purpose in the end so He would accept it - for now. His gaze ran over the mortals again in the most threatening way a cone of light could manage to do so, then turned towards the casino - or at least the building that was labelled as such. It was obvious - to His sight - that it was glowing bright with magic, something which He did most certainly not approve of, and which was also the cause of Tyche's concerns - that building and some fiend called a Cockatrice which was apparently attacking the realm..

The gaze turned to a greenish blue colour as it encased the entire building, illuminating the previously invisible tendrils of magic that drifted around the place. There were a lot of them around, but that was of little concern when compared to His own ability to nullify that which was not real. An ethereal void came into being at the origin of the cone, and it was not long before the tendrils were drawn towards it, eventually being pulled into the void where they were utterly destroyed by His divinity.

"A spike, a spike, Serge, from the machine.."

The tendrils came, blasted all of the magical remnants about the casino entrance. The corpses of broken cockatrices flared and decayed, illuminating the area with their unnatural glow. The defensive barriers, such as they were, of the casino flashed a bright blue - and then red - and then disappeared. The entire area smelt of gunfire, brimstone and roses..

The Sergeant turned towards Tyche, raised his weapon. "What in God's name, son, made you think that bringing a weapon here was a good idea? We damn well told you that we wouldn't stand for anything. I'm half-way convinced that we should shoot you on the spot for your incompetence and your inability to understand very explicit, very clear instructions: do not fuck us around. And there, you've gone and fucked us around. Why the hell would you do that?"

A siren rang from deep within the casino.. a clanging sound, such as the one heard in Niborkerese, but lighter and more penetrating.

"Alarms, Serge," said one of the soldier. "Magical fields down."

Tyche smiled. "Like I said... I know what I'm doing. I'm bringing down the brotherhood. Now you can either tells me what you need done while I can command him, or you can let me do it blindly!" He had a half smirk and raised a hand to Chalybis, "Besides... don't tell me that having the machine-god on our side wouldn't be fun."

Chalybis shows he is the mightiest of gods once more. Your doing a good job of keeping up appearences, I am trying not to lie, its something I disapprove of but the truth can be just as deceiving.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:28, Thu 01 Oct 2009.

With the magic of the place utterly vanquished before Him, Chalybis returned His divine gaze to its normal red hue, but did not turn it away from the building. Whilst the magic was gone, there was still something else that irked Him about the place. It was full of fleshy mortals, which were apparently being a plague to Tyche's realm and would therefore have to be destroyed. Fortunately, wiping out organic mortals was something Chalybis cared little about - although one might say he actually enjoyed doing so, and this time would be no exception.

i: Tyche Should Thoroughly Reconsider The Type Of Beings Which He Allows To Exist Within His Realm To Prevent These Things From Happening In The Future He thought to Tyche as he took a single stride forwards, leaving him and the arrogant mortal - who would be punished in due time for this insolence - behind Him. As He stood before the casino, silvery strands of metal formed within the orb that was His eye, merging together into a single sharp lance which gleamed with divine power. It appeared to be shivering and blurring slightly, as if it was not a single object, but many in close formation instead. As his gaze flared up for a moment, the lance shot down into the building below, breaking through the roof with ease now that the magical reinforcements were gone.

As it struck the surface below, the lance shattered and formed a torrent of metal fragments - far more than could ever have been in the lance - that swept through the building. Strangely enough, it did not appear to be actually doing much damage apart from its forced entry, flowing past the structure of the building without damaging it. Instead, they sped towards the organic creatures - presumably humans - that occupied the place, embedding themselves into their bodies and slowly disappearing into their flesh. This too appeared to be harmless at first, not even inflicting any pain with the minuscule entry wounds, but that would soon change as the shards began their deadly work within them...

There were screams of agony from within. Yelling. Gunfire.

Something nasty had happened.

There would be growth, soon.

"A spike, Serge, divine, Hhal-oh-ed Lee-ord, sixteen hundred," said the reader, stating the obvious.

The Serge looked towards Tyche. The anger was apparent in his eyes. His gun raised threateningly.

"I don't care what the fuck you think you're doing," he said, eyes straining, "But I will tell you now - cut it out, or I'll have you shot. No more fancy tricks without my express permission. This is an extremely delicate operation, and - if it wasn't already completely fucked by your little toy - we need all the god-damn control we can get."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:01, Mon 05 Oct 2009.

Kill them. Tyche will take their stuff. He tells Chalybis.

Tyche's face got serious now, maybe for the first time since he say the Earthborn. "Control? Control this?" He raised his hands as if to show the city (though also a sort of "I give up" expression for misleading). He was suddenly gone teleporting right next to the person with the reader his hand grabs it and he and it disappears (just back a block out of sight). He teleports back and forth rapidly like he did at the night of the fire, his brain throbbing as he removed each weapon they were holding when he got there, never appearing in a pattern, though he is also using his power of chance to make sure he appears in just the right positions of safety. After each of their main fire arms are gone, he stays where he had teleported them and rests knowing they will all be dead soon.

((I will do this while Chalybis unleashes whatever terror he plans for them.))
This message was last edited by the player at 12:15, Mon 05 Oct 2009.

(We'll just wait for Chalybis)

OOC: Afraid you couldn't do my evil justice? You were probably right and should not read this post if you are faint of heart... :P

As the swarm of silver needles began to take effect, the gunshots within the building died down and were replaced by wailing screams of agony that filled the area. The metal warped and grew within the fleshy bodies of those that had been struck, tearing them apart from the inside and slowly transforming the organic matter into a mechanical replica of itself. The process was an intentionally slow one, spreading throughout the entire body before replacing the vital organs so it caused as much agony as possible to its victims. Whilst this was not strictly necessary and not the most efficient usage, it was what Chalybis desired, another example of His terrible might that would fuel His reputation.

Outside of the building, Chalybis turned away from it to face the other group of humans which had just declared itself to be His enemy and would perish as such. Due to the reconstruction of those that had been within the building He had learned something interesting about the human body - it contained trace amounts of various metals, combining to a sufficient amount to be worth the effort it would take Him to extract it from them. As He cast His gaze upon the humans Tyche was disarming, He raised one of His hands above them and declared His intentions to them with a loud thundering voice.

II: Chalybis Has Become Aware Of The Fact That Your Physical Structures Contain A Non-Negligible Percentage Of Metals Which Belong To Him And His Realm And He Shall Now Recover These By Terminating Your Pitiful Existences

A host of mechanical tendrils shot out of the palm of His hand again, but this time they did not go for the items wielded by those that dared to oppose Him, surging straight to their bodies instead. Within moments, a large portion of the street was shattered by the impacting tendrils, piercing stone and flesh alike as they ravaged the surface and impaled the insignificant earthlings on their jagged ends. They did not cause any fatal wounds on their own - He had seen to that - but this was only the simple beginning of a thorough and drawn out death.

The tendrils retreated, pulling the humans off the ground and beginning the process of assimilation as they trapped them within His own body. As the various metals were extracted from their still-living bodies, these were fused together with His being, forming a mass of wounded flesh that surrounded His hand. Of course, with the iron in their blood gone, and the tendrils transforming the rest of their fleshy bodies into steel, they would all be dead soon, but until their last moment they would be fully aware of the excruciating process, their death throes joining the cacophony of screams that resounded around Him.

And Chalybis was pleased...

Tyche seeing what was going on in between his actions added a short telepathic thing. Don't hurt their masks. They're tech too.

"Control? Control this?"

There were roars - much closer now. The half-dozen Earthborn soldiers were under assault from Chalybis and Tyche.

Massive tendrils burst from the palms of Chalybis, striking at two of the guards, instantly killing them - making Chalybis free to take what remains from their wasted bodies. Gunfire, a staccato further crushing a broken night. Tyche appears - teleporting - next to the Reader, taking her mask and disappearing again. Reality shifts. More gunfire. Panic.

A second teleportation, and the guns of another soldier are gone, dooming him to assimilation. Tyche is shot, suddenly, in the leg, but it isn't enough - he has gone again.

A massive explosion rocks Chalybis, sending the corpses of the three targeted soldiers flying, and the machine God himself stumbles back, shaken but relatively undamaged. His lower body was dented by the nuclear blast. It wasn't, unfortunately, enough. More gunfire.. some of it hits Chalybis, piercing him, causing more pain than the grenade. Diamond through iron flesh. Chalybis feels the rush of agony to his head, an entirely new experience..

A third teleportation, and Tyche - Tyche is tired. He broke the Iron Seals of the Tower of Crailek in another time-stream, and the effort needed for that was not contained in a single reality.. it slips, something Chalybis had learnt in a safer environment, and his head explodes in pain and white light..

As Tyche falls to the ground, he is shot sixteen times - diamond rounds - in the back and the spine. A few bullets hit lower, turning his legs and hands to mush, a few higher, breaking his neck. This is the end for Tyche, it seems.. he cannot teleport away. No. Everything seems to be in slow motion, grey, greygreygreygrey..

He wasn't fast enough. He just wasn't fast enough. He could teleport, yes, but he was no warrior and to act like that in a combat situation was pure folly..

There is yelling and the Sergeant doesn't shoot again at Tyche. He is shooting at Chalybis. Four of his men are dead, taken by tendrils - only he and the reader still fight. Another grenade is lobbed. It strikes Chalybis and he is thrown to the ground, but it is too late, too late.. another tendril lashes out. As the Earthborn say, the Sergeant is fucked.

The Reader, then, is all that's left. Chalybis is bleeding oil and gears, vomiting bile-tasting smoke, his massive frame still relatively undamaged. There is screaming from the last human. Thirty seconds. Less. That's the time spent in this furious combat..

And Tyche is dying - the Reader will finish him - she lowers her gun to shoot and - and - and -

He is lucky. In a small way.. he is lucky.

One last teleport.

He is gone.

The diamond bullets scream against broken stone, and Chalybis takes his chance, ripping the human to shreds. He is battered and a little broken but alive - the Hallowed Leord of Industry is alive.

--

Tyche awakens, the taste of blood and vomit in his mouth. He tries to sit up, but can't hold down his bile.. as he throws up, knowing that there is more blood than vomit, he notices that he isn't in agony. No. He should be.. he is completely messed up.. but he was lucky. There was no pain..

A gobbling nearby.

Something above? A snake? A chicken?

A cockatrice.

Tyche is killed as the cockatrice rips towards him, ripping his head off and devouring on what little of his mangled flesh is edible.

The void was cool and open. Like a man in space there was nothing... no breath to hold, no life to live. Just him, and his mind... his mind was funny he saw. It liked the room of the void, it could expand... and expand it did. Using the surge of new energy it expanded, slimming down and getting smaller and more powerful (like a processor getting and upgrade). It suddenly became more preceptive than before.


Tyche reappears when the city is back to a somewhat normal state.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:01, Wed 07 Oct 2009.

That is: now.

Tyche appears, suddenly, outside the Casino. It was still a wreck. The corpses of several dozen humans litter the place. Chalybis is nearby, wounded.

Tyche frowned and went back over to Chalybis (teleporting if he's refreshed). "Yo, Chalybis can go back now. Tyche is going to go somewhere else, this place is pissing him off. Feel free to take the tech, Chalybis would be wise to take care there is still a cockatrice out there." He said. He opens random portal using his power over chance to make it to a realm who is psionic... and relativity peaceful.

Mist - the vainest people - beautiful architecture - tickticktickticktick - Buddha -

It was done.

(Resume posting in Ruse's Realm.)

After the battle - if one could even call the massacre that - had ended, one only remained alive, and that one was Chalybis. Although his corporeal shell had sustained severe damage due to the earthborn attackers, He had persisted and slain all that dared to oppose Him once again, making them part of His form. He got up from the ground - lying down was not a pose He considered worthy of His stature - and surveyed the area around Him, making sure that everything there was dead, dying, or otherwise about to meet its end.

Now it was time to do something about the damage He had sustained. It was relatively minor, and rather insignificant compared to the sheer scale of what remained intact - but still warranted His immediate attention to prevent it from getting any worse or giving any mortals wrong ideas about their capability to harm Him. Fortunately, He would only need to gather more metal to take the place of that which was lost, which was a rather easy thing to do for a being with His powers. Once he acquired the raw materials, everything else would sort itself out just fine.

The tendrils spread from Him once more, although slower and with more grace than before, reaching out to corpses and debris that scattered the place. Most importantly, they slid over to the sliver of Telluratus' surface that had been gated here with Him and began to 'suck' it into Him, giving Him the metals He required. Although most of what He gathered was used for the reconstruction of His physique, He took care not to destroy any pieces of the earthborn equipment - including the pile of weapons that had been left in the streets upon Tyche's death. He took heed of the lesser god's warning though, and did not look down upon the surface as He did this.

With this out of the way, Chalybis decided that it was time to return to His own realm. However, He would not be going alone, not after what had happened inside the remnants of the casino. Slowly, a single file of mechanical humanoids began to march out of it, all that remained of those who had been inside before His attack. They were identical to their former selves in shape, but now brainwashed automatons under His command. Whilst they might not be the most desirable servants - merely mechanised versions of insignificant mortals - He could probably find a use for them soon enough. Chalybis formed another gateway around Him and His new minions, and they were gone.

Back to Telluratus!

It was done. Chalybis left with five diamond firearm - one had been shattered beyond repair by some unseen blast - and a legion of fifty mechanical servants.

Iron and smoke - floating - gravity's strange - darkness in day -

It was done.

(continue posting, naturally, in Telluratus)

Tyche appeared here and sighed. That wasn't his intention... nor his goal... he was almost scarred of himself now and he dare not use this power again without considerable need. He looked around the allyway where he constantly seemed to appear, and listened for anything going on in the city.

The City wasn't silent, per se, but it was definitely quiet.. it seemed whatever battle had occur had now finished.

Tyche would just have to lay low for a while and practice both his psionics and battle skills. He obviously wasn't ready for that sort of stuff. He left the ally and wandered around the streets looking for an interesting looking tavern.

The streets were still covered in broken stone and dust.. blood scarred several walls.. but the City, for once, was quiet.

The tavern was named The Broken Jaw, and was a fighter's bar. That in itself was interesting. Would Tyche care to go inside?

Tyche wasn't in the mood for a fight, instead he around looking for another in, perhaps one a bit more hidden, he tried going into allyways and such.

(This Realm is now a Dead Realm)

Chalybis reappeared within the City of Dreams once more, bringing with Him the pair of upgraded Servants as He appeared in the same spot He had left an unknown amount of time ago. The memory of slaying the humanoids here and taking the technology they had used against Him was still fresh, but He also knew that there might still be remnants of the resistance around here, either in the form of more humanoids, or as the somewhat more threatening cockatrices that had claimed His Keeper. Still, there numbers had been limited, and He felt certain He could deal with these beings without too much difficulty.

III: And Now You Shall Lead Chalybis To The Location Of The Knowledge Keeper So That He Might Recover The Information It Carries He decreed, allowing His gaze to pass over the area surrounding Him and taking in the state these were in to approximate the time that had passed since His last appearance. Whilst His petrified Servant was unlikely to be destroyed by time, it might have been moved or taken by other forces during His absence, something which would not help the recovery process...

The Servants began to move in one direction when Chalybis heard a familiar voice..

"Chalybis! Long time no see!" cried Tyche, wandering over, manic grin plastered onto his face. "Tyche is very pleased to see Chalybis. How is Chalybis?"

Chalybis did not look down to gaze over at Tyche as the God of Chance approached Him, merely stopping for a while to allow him to catch up. This was not purely out of arrogance - after all, He knew perfectly well what Tyche looked like by now and there did not appear to be any significance in re-ascertaining this fact right now. His gaze remained upon His Servants as they wandered off, keeping a close eye on them as He did not want either of them to become petrified as well. Right now, they were far too valuable for that.

IV: Chalybis Is Currently Investigating This Realm To Locate And Recover The Remains Or Full Form Of A Knowledge Keeper That Has Been Petrified By One Of The Invading Cockatrices Somewhere Within The Past Of This Realm Chalybis told Tyche, still following the Servants with His gaze. He took a large step to keep them within His sight, and waited for Tyche to follow Him. The God of Chance had so far been the only non-mechanical being whose existence He had chosen to condone, and it was the closest thing He had to an 'ally', so a certain 'friendliness' - a term Chalybis did not really like the sound of - was in order here.

"I, uh, Tyche wonders why a knowledge keeper was sent here," said Tyche. The streets, while still showing the scathing damage of the previous battle, were clean enough to give the opinion that the war was over: there was certainly no signs of cockatrice or Earthborn creatures. "I mean, sure, it's been a long while since Tyche last saw Chalybis, but they're still friends, aren't they? Aren't they?"

The Servants scuttled off, finally hovering over a metal grille - much too small for Chalybis to enter himself.

THE KNOWLEDGE KEEPER IS BELOW LORD OH I HOPE YOU CAN FIND HIM I WORRY ABOUT HIM SO

;) Just letting MD know how terrible of a job he's RPing Tyche...

V: Chalybis Assures Tyche That This Has Not Changed In The Least Since Their Last Encounter And That The Triad Of Servants Was Merely Sent To The City Of Dreams For The Purpose Of Studying Its Various Aspects Without Bothering Tyche With Such An Insignificant Inquisition Personally Chalybis responded after some due consideration, making sure to say something which was completely correct whilst its meaning remained open for various interpretations. He did not like the idea of lying - and therefore He had not done so - but the direct truth was something which Tyche was never to know for the sake of his existence. Tyche was a mere pawn in the greater scheme, but none one which He was intent on losing this early...


VI: It Appears That The Last Known Location Of The Knowledge Keeper Has Been Uncovered And Chalybis Will Thus Attempt To Extract It Whilst Causing As Little Damage As Possible To The Structure Of The Underground Tunnels That Run Beneath The Surface Of This Realm He declared upon hearing the Servants inform Him of their discovery. He had already foreseen that the sewer system would be utterly incapable of containing His form and was not concerned with this. After all, He was not intent on entering them personally in the first place, there were other constructs far more suitable for such a task.

Chalybis considered His options for a moment, then began to will numerous mechanical components into existence, forming a few small heaps that clattered down upon the streets next to the pair of Servants. The parts seen within the heap looked strangely familiar to the Servants, as if they were miniature versions of something they had seen countless times before. As soon as Chalybis began to mentally assemble the components into a bigger whole, it became clear what was being constructed before them. For in front of them, a group of ten tiny Servants - each one about five times smaller than a true Servant - was rapidly being created by Chalybis, appearing in an utterly impeccable condition.

However, they were still lacking the essence of life that fuelled the Servants, being nothing more than inanimate steel constructs at this point. This was a minor issue to Chalybis, and with a single flash of red light from His gaze, the miniature Servants came to life, their inner workings quietly starting up and emitting a soft buzzing as diminutive gears churned around within them. As one, the ten of them turned around and opened up the sewer grill, then jumped down into the darkness below. They would be the ones to find the Knowledge Keeper and recover it - or at least its scroll for Chalybis, and they would not fail...

The miniature Servants scuttled into the man-hole, their aim to recover the remains of the Knowledge Keeper.

A long silence passed.

"Uh, Tyche things they're not coming," said Tyche, looking a little dubious.

It Should Not Have Taken This Long To Retrieve The Knowledge Keeper Oh My I am Rather Worried seconded the Commander.

Still, they did not return.

The red cone of light flashed over Tyche for an instant before returning to the sewer grate, as if it were shooting a somewhat annoyed look at the God of Chance. Chalybis was fully aware of what went on beneath the surface, and knew that His miniature Servants had just perished under a hail of gunfire - something which had shot a surge of 'pain' through His own body as these extensions of Himself had been destroyed so suddenly. Apparently the humanoid war had spread to the underground sewers that ran beneath the city, and He would have to wipe them out - again - to reclaim His Servant

VII: Chalybis Shall Restore The Sewers That Will Now Be Wrecked To A Pristine Condition After He Has Recovered The Knowledge Keeper He Is Searching And Has Exterminated Those That Dared To Attack His Servants Without Any Provocation He decreed as He raised one of His fists high above the surface. As He slammed it down upon the sewer entrance, the hand seemingly disintegrated, instantly reshaping itself into a host of tendrils that forced their way into the small opening. They rapidly spread through the remarkably large tunnels below, wrapping around anything they came across and crushing it utterly if they felt it was not the petrified Servant He wanted to find.

Of course, they would get shot at, and some might even be lost, but He could easily reabsorb these later. The mortals - on the other hand - did not possess such regenerative abilities and their inevitable deaths by the unstoppable wave of steel would be permanent ones. Chalybis had no more patience with mortals that interfered with His plans, and anything - or anyone - His tendrils found down in the sewers would now perish before Him to prevent it from ever threatening Him or His Servants again...

The ground exploded in a hail of broken stone as the tendrils fell through to below. The dread tendrils struck something heavy, something it couldn't immediately break.. steel? Concrete?

Regardless, there was no gunfire and there were no casualties.

"Tyche has a bad feeling about this," said Tyche, master of bad ideas. "I think that sewer runs under the Point.."

Chalybis' tendrils swept over the large object that was blocking their path, feeling around it to find out if and how it was attached to the surrounding sewer system. If the block had been made out of some type of metal - or a type of rock reinforced with metal rods - He could have easily assimilated it - at least partially - and pulled it loose, but as it seemed that this was not quite the case, another - somewhat more drastic - measure would have to be employed to remove this inconvenient yet harmless obstacle that prevented Him from destroying the humanoid resistance behind it.

The well-known silver metal formed within His gaze again, shimmering eerily within the red light. Thist time it did not form into one or more projectiles, but instead remained in a mostly liquid form that slowly dripped out of His gaze. The silver substance seeped down through His body without affecting it - mostly since it was already made out of a similar metal and not a pathetic organic or mineral compound - and flowed into the tendrils beneath, giving them a suspicious silvery sheen as the liquid metal passed through them. After a short while, it arrived at the 'end' of the tunnel where the obstacle rested, and began to spread out over it from the point where the tendrils touched it.

Immediately, it began to eat away at the block, turning the offending minerals into silver metal with ease. With the unstoppable corruption that was brought forth from the it would not be long before the block - some kind of door or gate? - would be made entirely out of the silver steel. At that point, the powerful tendrils  that pushed against it could easily assimilate it - their main purpose after all - and continue onwards through the tunnels to smite the beings that dared to destroy His Servants and reclaim the petrified remains of the Knowledge Keeper which had undoubtedly been stolen by them.

VIII: Define The Nature Of The Site Described As The Point And The Reason That Destroying The Point Will Lead To Any Significant Amount Of Danger Or Otherwise Negative Consequences For Chalybis He declared as He did this, not really bothering to wait for an answer as He continued His deconstruction of the sewer system below. The only opposition He had found here before was that of humans with firearms, something which He no longer viewed as a serious threat to Himself, and with His gaze remaining above the surface, the petrifying cockatrices that lurked beneath were of no consequence either...

Chalybis felt pain.

Felt gunshot.

The obstacle was destroyed, petty concrete, but with it so were the tentacles. They were ruined by a series of quick blasts.. enough to ruin even that semblance of Chalybis's might.

"The Point is the big casino that the Brotherhood - the bad guys who probably started the war earlier - own and run. It is filled with dangerous criminals and powerful magics. Tyche thinks Chalybis doesn't want to disturb them.."

Tyche's eyes widened as he saw the tentacles.

"Ah," said Tyche.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:24, Tue 27 Oct 2009.

In That Case This So-Called Brotherhood Shall Be Destroyed For The Physical Damage It Has Recently Dealt To The Holy Form Of Chalybis And For The Abduction Of The Knowledge Keeper That Rightfully Belongs To Chalybis And His Realm He declared as He pulled the remains of His mechanical tendrils from the sewer system and gazed upon them. The ends - or rather, the points where the destroyed ends had been attached to previously - had been molten to a dark metallic slag, indicating that an immense amount of energy had been produced by the weapon, an amount He had not witnessed in any of the Earthborn weapons He had encountered or otherwise become aware of. This could only mean that the resistance possessed some kind of other weapon, one of a far greater power which could actually threaten a God. That was somewhat of an issue, but also an opportunity provided that He could acquire it - and acquire it He would...

In an instant, He deducted - from the length of the tentacles before their destruction and the curvatures encountered within the sewer system itself - the location of the destroyed barrier and the space that lay beyond it, turning His gaze to the building on the surface that lay above it. This building was presumably 'The Point' Tyche was so concerned about, home to all sorts of vile beings and those who dared to oppose Him. Their magic would be of no consequence against His might, and without the protection of the narrow sewer system to hide them from Him, they would quickly fall before Him like the others had done during His previous visit.

Another silver lance formed within His gaze - identical to the one used last time - as He stepped through the streets towards the casino, leaving Tyche and the Servants behind near the sewer entrance. If the corruption did not immediately destroy all of them when it struck, it would at least drive them out into the open where He could vanquish them at His leisure. The lance completed itself and shot forwards, crashing into the front wall of the building and shattering into a wave of silver needles as it connected. The silver tide would corrupt all it came across, changing the pathetic resistance in a new group of minions if they did not flee in time. And now, with the attack in progress, all that Chalybis had to do was wait for results...

The silver needles struck the windows of the City's greatest casino, but the windows did not shatter. The concrete-reinforced brick shattered, but did not fall. A single guard was struck, screaming, and sudden;y Chalybis was under an assault of bullets as eleven other guards fell into defensive position, hiding behind reinforced verandas outside of the casino and barking threats.

Chalybis staggered as he felt the bullets pierce his shell. He noted that one of the soldiers had shot their fallen comrade, possibly to spare him any pain.

As His other self died in another realm at the hands of another god, this Paradox of Chalybis halted for a moment, remaining motionless as the light within His gaze flickered erratically in a frantic - yet successful - attempt to stay present within this realm. He was not intent on allowing the humans here to get the mistaken idea that they could harm Him, lest they gain some kind of motivation from this. He was a God, and He would not have it said that mere mortals had struck Him down. And so, even though He was momentarily weakened, He persisted, denying Paradox its prize and continuing to exist in the City of Dreams despite dying elsewhere.

Still, the human resistance was being remarkably bothersome, something which Chalybis did not appreciate. They possessed an item which He desired - possibly even two of them - and He would not be denied His prize by these worthless mortals. The death of the infected ones would make the process somewhat less painful, but no less efficient in the end - life was not a requirement to become one of His minions. A more direct solution was required for the current guards though, as their attacks seemed to be remarkably harmful and disturbing to His form.

As His physical form was seriously threatened by their weaponry, He turned towards His untouchable metaphysical abilities to dispose of them instead. Above each of the offending mortals, a tiny point of green formed in the air, rapidly swelling up into an orb of some strange green fluid that fumed with an unhealthy-looking vapour as it formed. When the orbs had reached a satisfying size several moments later, He ceased His concentration, allowing the newly formed blobs of acid to drop down upon the humanoids that opposed Him, almost taking delight in the deadly suffering that was about to follow...

Chalybis felt his mind throb in pain as the acidic globs were conjured..

And the soldiers screamed in pain as their flesh disintegrated into nothing. Soon, all that remained was a sort of pinkish goop. A siren wailed from within the Casino, and Chalybis saw the doors shut suddenly - locked.

His head hurt, and his body was screaming in pain.. he'd taken a lot of damage. He wheezed and clanked and puffed..

Chalybis was somewhat amused as He saw the casino closing down before Him. Apparently the occupants had finally realised that they did not have any chance of defeating Him despite their - admittedly superior - technology. This moment of calm would merely allow Him to restore the damage dealt by them, whilst they could do nothing but wait for His wrath or flee away, unable as they were to regenerate their lost ones. This battle had become one of attrition, a type of combat in which the God of Industry could not possibly be matched by mere mortals.

Almost immediately, the remainder of His tendrils 'reached' out to the sliver of Telluratus that had been gated here along with Him, disjointing it from the surface of the City of Dreams and tearing it apart into usable chunks which were then swallowed by the tendrils to become part of His body and replace that which had been destroyed. Chalybis would have preferred to use other materials - those not belonging to Himself - for this, but with Tyche around it was probably not a good idea to go about wrecking more of the realm for no apparent reason.

It was not long before the process had been completed to His satisfaction, and He returned His attention to the concrete 'fortress' inhabited by the mortal resistance. The building was remarkably resilient for a mortal design, perhaps suspiciously so considering the qualities of mundane materials. It was likely to be magically reinforced, something which He could remedy with ease. His gaze turned into a deep blue once more and sought out the casino, tearing away at whatever magic caused it to withstand His silver tide...

"Tyche really thinks you should, um, maybe stop or slow down a little.."

The blue rippled across the casino, ripping to shreds every trace of magic held within the place. Coloured lights swarmed the Point and then collapsed upon itself.

The casino itself was silent, locked-down, fortified.

Ignoring Tyche for now - as He had no intention whatsoever of stopping before the human resistance had been silenced and the Knowledge Keeper had been recovered - Chalybis gazed over the building before Him. Although its magical wards and seals had now been removed completely, the structure itself appeared to be a remarkably sturdy one, one which He could not destroy as easily as the shoddy buildings that filled Niborkerese. Even His silver lances had failed at penetrating the thick walls, something which was bothering - although this might have been connected to the presence of magical wards which were now gone.

Fortunately, there was something within Chalybis possession which could take down the casino - as well as any other structure that could possibly exist within this realm - with relative ease. Whilst the Harvesters might have failed at combating His adversaries directly, they had been undeniably effective at the destruction of any structures, terrain, and non-resisting matter in general. One of them would be perfect for this situation and as they could create their own portals He only needed to order one to come here. A swirling red orb, not unlike the gates He used to travel, appeared in front of Chalybis, solidifying into a small portal-like entity that showed images of Telluratus on the other side.

IX: Chalybis Demands That A Harvester Is Sent To His Current Location This Very Instant He decreed into the swirling mass, the message sounding remarkably soft in this realm but echoing loudly throughout His own. It would not be long before one of the Commanders there would act upon it, ordering one of the dormant Harvesters to travel to the City of Dreams to serve Him so that it might consume this building and its occupants...

Three gleaming beasts - made of rust and rage, steel and silence whirled out of the shifting portals, their mouths caught within a permanent, twisted smile - a smirk that did not adequately express their hunger. As they shifted through, they started to inhale, but they did not take breath - they took concrete, bricks, mortar, metal..

They were there to serve their Lord.

Chalybis was somewhat surprised - in a rather pleasant manner - by the arrival of not one, but three of the Harvesters before Him. Three mechanical monstrosities that were now tearing apart the fabric of the world around them and drawing it into their gaping tooth-filled maws so that it might be drawn into His realm. Tyche was unlikely to approve of this, but Chalybis had stopped worrying about such a minor setback by now. A single one of the Harvesters would presumably have been sufficient to devastate a large portion of the city, so three of them could probably take out the entire realm if they were given enough time, with or without Tyche's approval.

Or could they? The Harvesters that He had employed before had all been woefully inadequate at their given tasks and had been rather easily disposed of by both the Gods and Systemarchs that had been their adversaries. The untimely destruction of His Harvesters was something He could not allow to happen again and therefore He would not do so. The current state of the Harvester design was not good enough to destroy entire worlds in the way He had intended, and because of that He would now be forced to make a number of 'alterations' to rectify this unfortunate situation.

X: The Results Of Previous Experiments Have Indicated That The Harvester Prototypes Are Currently Insufficient To Adequately Perform Their Intended Purpose... He began to decree, reaching out with His hands in such a way that He became able to touch all three of His Harvesters. A certain mechanical shiver went through the three of them as even their non-existent minds were becoming aware of the agonizing yet immeasurably great blessing that was about to be bestowed upon them.

...And Therefore The Currently Present Harvesters Shall Be Removed From Existence So That They Might Become The First Of The Next Generation... He continued upon touching them, instantly causing the machinery within the Harvesters to break apart, the rotating rows of teeth tearing their steel forms apart from the inside. Within moments, the Harvesters had been reduced to dense clouds of divine steel that swirled around the horrible vortices they had contained, warping and growing with each passing instant. They were already being rebuilt now, upgrading themselves under His will into creations that would make their previous incarnations pale in comparison.

...Devourer Extractor And Reaper He concluded as He witnessed the process with a sense of satisfaction. Three identical Harvesters had been removed, but soon the randomness of advancement would grant Him three new - better - mechanical monstrosities to serve His will...

There was a change.

It was subtle, but noticeable to any who could speak the language of machines, know the patterns behind steel and gears. The three were given gifts from their Lord, and the gifts would manifest in a variety of ways.. but which ways? There was a mystery here..

The first, perhaps to be named the Devourer, was gifted with the invisible void. The void was powerful and indiscriminate. It could not be switched on and off. Chalybis felt it's pull, and knew that his powers wouldn't function within it's field.. they were being taken by the field.

The second, perhaps to be named Reaper, was given a Personality and access to the language of Men. As barbs and spikes and hooks and slicers burst from it's carapace, it knew of it's own existence, and knew - knew - that it would be forced to kill. It was not scared of that fact. It rather enjoyed the fact, and was sure that it would enjoy the killing.

The third, perhaps to be named Extractor, was gifted to be limitless. It would not transport the minerals taken back to Telluratus, but instead would feed on them, and grow. It would develop - perhaps one could say evolve, though a certain Dutch supercomputer would probably debate this fact with the Fates - into something greater as it fed. It would be a vampire of rust.

We have come. The voice of the Reaper was raspy and savage.

Chalybis was pleased to see what had come to be in front of Him, three advanced Harvesters that possessed capabilities far beyond those which mortal technology could provide. Although the improvement was not without its flaws - Devourer's effect upon Himself could prove to be troublesome as well as disturbingly uncomfortable, and the fact that yet another lesser machine had been granted sentience as a result of its enhancement was extremely inconvenient - the change as a whole would make them more than worthy additions to His dominion. All that remained now was a simple test of their qualities to prove this...

XI: Now That The Three Have Been Enhanced In Their Existence Reaper Shall Proceed By Destroying The Building That Harbours The  Resistance Against Chalybis And Exterminating All Organic Lifeforms That Are Found Within It He decreed as He stared at the casino ahead, His gaze quivering and bending slightly as if the light itself was being drawn towards Devourer. Reaper seemed to be the most appropriate one to vanquish a group of mortals, possessing a large array of vicious appendages and an equally violent and sadistic sentience with which to use them effectively.

Of course, Reaper alone would be sufficient to deal with the mortal opposition, which meant that a different trial would be required for the others. Devourer's ability to utterly nullify - and possibly destroy - all of the metaphysical powers around it was an impressive weapon, and Extractor's ability to assimilate the powers of all that it devoured would rapidly make it the most fearsome of all His servants, continuously improving itself by harvesting the matter and beings in the worlds that opposed Him. The only thing He required for their test was for a suitably powerful being to manifest itself somewhere in this realm, so that Extractor might absorb its powers without risk as Devourer nullified them...


At that moment, Chalybis suddenly realized that Tyche was still present and had been remarkably lacking in the furthering of His will, almost as if he was no longer intent on serving Him. Furthermore, it did not appear that Tyche was of any immediate or future purpose in his current state, having failed to repel even mortal invaders from his realm and dying at the claws of a single supernatural being. Chalybis' gaze - still quivering under the influence of Devourer's aura, slowly turned towards Tyche, the featureless cone still managing to convey a very threatening intent.

XII: Although Chalybis Declares That This Is An Extremely Unfortunate Situation It Currently Appears That Recent Developments Have Caused Tyche To Become Utterly Obsolete And Therefore Devourer And Extractor Are Hereby Ordered To Remove Tyche From Existence Permanently He spoke, making it utterly clear that their 'partnership' had ended here. He would find it extremely interesting to see what effect Devourer would have on Tyche's abilities to avoid attackers, and even more-so to see what happened when Extractor consumed him...

"Chalybis! But -"

As the Extractor moved upon Chalybis, the Devourer whirring behind him, Tyche (with obvious hurt on his face), disappeared.

The two Harvesters stopped.

You made a mistake there, Lord. Didn't you know he could flash in and out? Why try something so stupid if you knew?

The Reaper's voice was disdainful.

Chalybis gaze flashed back onto Reaper, a heavy overtone of anger emanating from the red light. If it were not for the fact that Reaper was an extremely valuable servant - the fact that without His powers, Reaper was effectively stronger than Him had nothing to do with this - He would have destroyed it at the spot for this insolence. I appeared that the blessing of speech was always accompanied by the curse of free will and, in this case, a personality that did not quite understand how it was supposed to address its God and Creator.

XIII: This Was A Valuable Experiment In The Sense That It Has Shown That The Void Utilized By The Devourer Was Not Capable Of Completely Nullifying The Teleportation Powers Used By Tyche He eventually declared, somewhat disappointed by this discovery. He knew full well that the Psionic abilities possessed by Himself, Tyche, and numerous other gods were amongst the more powerful abilities present, and the inability to nullify these was a major setback to His 'plans'. Tyche's ability was relatively harmless, but this could not be said for the many other possibilities, so He would have to come up with a suitable solution eventually.

XIV: The Most Important Aspect Of The Order Has Also Been Completed Successfully As Tyche Is No Longer Present Within The Direct Area And Therefore The Consumption Of This Entire Realm Shall Now Commence Meaning That The Three Of You Shall Now Destroy Exterminate And Harvest Every Last Molecule Of Non-Mechanical Matter Within It Beginning With The Casino And Its Occupants Who Continue To Insult Chalybis By Their Mere Existence He continued, gazing over the city around Him with contempt as He did so. Even in the time during which He had considered Tyche himself a useful ally, this realm had been a massive insult to divinity - a place full of pitiful organic beings that refused to give the Gods their due respect.

Although He had at first been intent to simply let the Harvesters perform their duty and depart, Chalybis realized that He had come here to acquire the information stored within the petrified Knowledge Keeper, a task which He had still failed to complete and was not suitable for either the Harvesters or the other two Servants that were standing around some distance behind Him. No, He would have to remain here until at least the casino had been removed, at which point He could easily find the Knowledge Keeper - provided it had actually been present inside the casino, otherwise He would have to comb through the entire city personally which was an unpleasant foresight.

The Devourer remained still, seething, content to feed on the supernatural powers of Chalybis.

Lord, you are an interesting creature. I cannot believe that you let him go. He could destroy you. You are, compared to someone with abilities such as those, nothing.

The Reaper began his slow work - the reinforced walls of the casino were reinforced with concrete and steel as well as brick and plaster - and the Extractor followed diligently, the minerals slowly being  added to itself.

Chalybis felt as if something was wrong. There was something within him - suddenly - some alien corruption that he hadn't felt before. He felt heavier, somehow, but not immediately noticeably so.

XV: Chalybis Feels That Reaper Is Severely Underestimating The Power Of His Master Chalybis - or it was Chalybis who was underestimating Tyche, but such a heretical thought would not cross His mind and live - And Is Not To Question Them Any Further Until Any Evidence Suggesting Their Lack Of Power Is Observed Which Shall Never Happen In This Universe Chalybis declared, not intent on being mocked or otherwise offended by the very beings He had brought into existence.

Of course, there was a small issue here in the sense that Devourer appeared to be notoriously persistent in its defiance of Chalybis orders and remained far closer than could be considered 'comfortable' or indeed 'healthy' for Chalybis. He could feel that His strength was gradually being tapped away by Devourer, something which was less than desirable - especially after what He had just declared to Reaper. It appears that Devourer too was 'gifted' with some kind of flawed personality, one which did not consider Chalybis as its master but instead as merely another meal. That would have to be altered rather quickly before something went horribly wrong for Him...

XVI: Devourer Your Actions Against Your Lord Are Extremely Undesirable And Unacceptable And You Are Therefore Ordered To Cease Them At Once And Continue with The Removal Of All Other Power Spikes Found Within The Premises Of This Realm So That They Shall Not Disturb Reaper And Extractor While They Eradicate All The Material Remains Thereof He spoke, attempting to make it clear that He was not to be consumed in any sense. Although it made sense that Devourer went after the highest concentration of power first, He did not approve of this being Him, and if it were to resist, He would be forced to send it into another realm where it could eat the Gods that resided there...

((Umm Reaper is the with the attitude problem and can talk, Devourer is just being a gluttonus leech on your divine power without saying anything.))

The Devourer moved away dutifully.

Lord I don't think you should - began the Reaper, as the Extractor continued.

Chalybis felt a huge explosion form within him, as the corruption within him hit it's climax. The thirty sticks of Earthborn lidynamite caught within him - psychoported, perhaps, by Tyche - wracked his entire being, and Chalybis went up in a curling flame of green and red. Smoke rose. Chalybis fought, but the damage was too severe - most of his internal 'organs', as they might be termed, were ruined beyond normal repair, and a moment later Chalybis was dead.

Gnotan phased into existence and felt a mighty explosion rock the earth. It caught him off guard and he stumbled, catching himself on a nearby pole. He looked around and saw a plume of smoke off to the west. He headed off in that general direction, keeping his wits about him.

Gnotan was soon stopped by two patrolling soldiers, diamond rifles in hand.

"Sir," said the soldiers, thinking Gnotan looked a little suspicious. "What is your business? Identification papers?"

"Why hello good gentlemen. I am looking for a man by the name of Tyche. Any chance you would know him?"

"Papers," said the soldier. "I don't care who you're looking for." He pointed the gun into Gnotan's face. "Where are your papers?"

"Sorry, I don't have any. Shall I just head back the way I came then?"

"No," said the soldier, laughing a little. "No - you'll be coming with us until we figure out who you are."

Gnotan sighed. He had hoped this would be unnecessary...

Not really

He cast Acid Burn on both of them and The Binding on their fingers to stop them pulling the triggers. He then withdrew a long, sinister looking dagger, part of his torture implements, and walked up to the first man, stabbing him in the eye, only enough to peirce through the eye, no further, he then yanked it out and spun around, shaving a layer of skin off the other man's cheek. He chuckled, enjoying himself immensely. He grabbed the guns, both with one hand, by the barrel and threw them away and cast a Cube of Imprisonment around one of the men while he slowly dissected the other one, making sure not to kill him. After a while he said, "So where is Tyche?"

(Gnotan, just a warning, but god-moding is strictly punished. Keep it fair.)

Before Gnotan could complete his plan, the soldiers started to scream - acid hitting their eyes - and they pressed the triggers. Perhaps he should bind them before casting them in acid. They fired, and Gnotan felt the bullets hit his gut - once, twice, thrice - before they were thrown back. Gnotan was bleeding, and the soldiers were screaming.

(Sorry, wont happen again.)

"SHIT!" Gnotan screamed. "This isn't fucking worth it..."

Gnotan grabbed one of the diamond rifles and began to run back towards his gate, ready to shoot anyone who was going to stop him.

There were a few who tried to stop him, but Gnotan easily shot them down. Luckily, he was injured, but not badly hurt..

There was a light - a steel box - an endless waste -

And he was back home, back in the Dungeon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:01, Mon 16 Nov 2009.