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RP PUBLIC: The Dread City of Tushmuthut.

Posted by Master DivineFor group 0
Master Divine
GM, 1158 posts
Fri 16 Oct 2009
at 17:12
  • msg #1

RP WORLD EVENT: The Dread City of Tushmuthut

(The RP World Event is a thread dedicated to the World Event that is currently rocking the Realm Supernatural. It might become irrelevant when the event ends, or it might not. It may be temporary. It functions as an RP PUBLIC, which means all gods can be here at the same time as their Realm/Niborkerese/Conclave/etc. All Gods are assumed to have heard a variation on the 'rumour' given below, detailing the area, which is how - in character - they know about it. In addition, there is a 'story' given behind it - not necessary to read, but perhaps an extremely good idea as it gives OOC insight as to why the thing exists.

RP World Events are extremely dangerous, unpredictable places. By coming here your character is engaging in the history of the world, but there is a price - the immense risk. Characters may very easily die here. It is a given. It might be for a completely arbitrary reason. If your character is one of the unfortunates, sorry in advance.)

The Rumour

"They say.. out there, in the sands, to the far north.. yes, past Niborkerese - watch the cultists, they're drawn like flies to the slaughter - they say there was a city, built of sand, by the Dreaded Lord himself. Built of sand! Filled with all manner of chimera and dragons and snakes and.. and Osiris-Ra! He has obviously returned to destroy us! Oh, by Odin, by Thor, by them all!"

The Story

As the doomed prophet had known, on the sixth day the Star of the Eye had shone a blasted red. It was an omen, and the omen bid him continue the purification rituals. He was completely confident that it would work. They would get a day of light, now.. twelve hours, more than the paltry sixty minutes they'd been granted last time. He was secure, ecstatic, but scared. He knew what the ritual would mean.

He would have to die.

Die, so that the Dreaded Lord would live.

The star twinkled in the cold night, casting its evil stare upon the hooded cultists. Each had the mark of Osiris-Ra tattooed in scathing ink upon their backs - an eye within a star within a sun. They had all been groomed, trained for this night. The prophet was of the fifth degree, one of the few chosen rulers of the Cult of Osiris-Ra, and he wished - secretly - that it was proper for a lesser being to be used. One of the first-degree acolytes, perhaps. But no. No. That would be an insult to the Dreaded Lord.. one he would not stand for. They needed someone who had mastered the invocations of the sun, braved the seventeen nights of the arid salts, conjured the demon Barvasaul and spat in his face, murdered an Isubanite..

Completed the initiations. He was right. It was his turn.. it would be his honour. Joy filled him again. He was a deeply conflicted man. The prophet would always be deeply conflicted. The stars were right.

"Ready?" he rasped, beneath the iron mask, to a first-degree. The acolyte nodded.

The sacred spot had been chosen by consulting the spilled innards of Bravus, God of Merchants, abducted as he was from the pathetic marketplace of the Conclave. White sand, white stone. Grasping the eight other fifth-degree masters by the arms, they thanked him in their way, slapped him, spat at him and cheered him on. He was lashed, seventeen times.. the number of Osiris-Ra. The lashings didn't hurt. He was used to worse.

He removed the black cloak, and noted the deathly chill of the night. It was never this cold in Tushmuthut.. another omen. They brought the torches, and he was held down as the scorpions stung his back. It was to be a scar, a permanent tattoo that would become irrelevant before the hour was over.. they tattooed the binding invocations, the calling evocations, the summonings, the blasted glyphs, the mark of the Red Star..

He screamed. This was necessary, to show proper respect to the scorpion-folk.

Finally, it was done, and the prophet turned to his fellows - his fellow masters of the fifth-degree, the overseers of the fourth.. down to the acolytes of the first-degree, who - unknowingly - would be slaughtered after the return. He grinned with unseen malice; the mask kept his face an iron image, caught in a scowl.

It was easy enough to get the Holy Desert on this eve. The Lord Councilman Lictros - rat servant of the Conclave - was easy enough to pay off. His duty was to watch Tushmuthut and to guard it from all invaders, but tonight a sudden illness had struck most of the Conclave guards, and the others were easily murdered. The True Sons of Metatron, typically easily to manipulate, had been turned so that they'd raid the Shrine.. three enemies down. The Servants of the Nuclear Eye didn't care either way about Osiris-Ra, and left the Cult well enough alone.

Suddenly, the prophet's brother stabbed at him with the consecrated silver blade, and he fell, gurgling. It was not his place to scream here, unless it was with joy. He gave a verbal oblation to the Dreaded Lord, and was slashed again and again and again. He knew, though he would never see it, that he would be chopped into five pieces, symbolic of the five cut pieces of Osiris-Ra..

And he was dead.

A minute passed. Another. Sixteen.

They Cult waited. They knew the sacred number. The sacrifice was given, the stars watched..

Seventeen.

The corpse of the prophet stirred.

There was rejoicing among the brothers and sisters of the Cult of Osiris-Ra.

The five pieces of the doomed prophet stirred some more, stopped. A rustling.. and they turned to fine black sand.

The cult yelled in dedication, screamed their love.

The sand rose, formed into a humanoid figure, took the black robe and the iron mask. He waved a hand in acknowledgment.

Every first-degree cultist - those who had not mastered the Invocations of the Sun - turned suddenly to white sand, the fine powder gushing out of their robes. There may have been a smirk beneath the iron mask.

"I have returned!" boomed Osiris-Ra.

It was only temporarily, and in twelve hours he would be blasted to oblivion once more.. but for now, the Dreaded Lord had returned. Twelve hours was a very long time. A lot could die in a sun's day.

Now:

It was the seventh hour, and Osiris-Ra had returned to his ancient realm.

He'd done much this day.

Now he looked upon the desert, accompanied by the fourth-degree overseers. He waved a hand over the sacred spot, where he was reborn, and looked upon it.

"Tushmuthut.."

The words were like daggers, castrating the Conclave, cutting the throat of Metatron, and blinding Isuban.

Another hand, and a violent motion with his palms.

The sand rose suddenly, swirled. The Dreaded Lord was lost in the swirl. It rose higher and higher.. a tempest of white sand, obscuring the sky. Finally, it settled. In it's place was the lost city of Tushmuthut, labyrinthine, made of white stone and designed to kill all intruders..

It would be here where the Black Callisti of Isuban would be gathered, and where they would be shattered. Here where Metatron would have his neck cut, where the 'Highest' would have his blood pool. Here where the bastard Roid would have each of his eyes burnt out with a white-hot flame..

Here where the Cult of Osiris-Ra would seize their headquarters. The profess-houses of Niborkerese would not do. This was their new home. When Osiris-Ra would be blasted to oblivion once more, they would continue the work, and resurrect him once more upon this place..

He stood, now, outside the City of Tushmuthut.

"My children." His voice was a single boom. "Come here and inflate your ranks. Secrecy is no longer needed. Come here and draw all those who would fight for me! Smash your fist upon the enemy!"

He saw with pleasure that the cultists were more than eager to have an entire city to themselves.

"Now!" he cried. "I call my generals. Gather before me!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:19, Fri 16 Oct 2009.
Hallowed Leord Sura Al'Amun, Returned God of the Desert
player, 28 posts
Grey/Fragile/Conjurer
Barren Realm
Fri 16 Oct 2009
at 17:22
  • msg #2

Re: RP WORLD EVENT: The Dread City of Tushmuthut

Arrived. It was surreal. He felt this natural... calling to this place. He felt right. This place feels like a second home. But where is this?

Sura Al'Amun takes in his surroundings, craving the sight.
Master Divine
GM, 1160 posts
Fri 16 Oct 2009
at 17:24
  • msg #3

Re: RP WORLD EVENT: The Dread City of Tushmuthut

He knew the place from thousands of years gone..

Tuthmuthut. Once his home..

Joy filled Sura Al'Amun as the robed figure with the iron mask turned towards him.

"You are the first. I am pleased, Lord of the Rod of a Thousand Crying Curses. You have brought the scepter?"
Hallowed Leord Sura Al'Amun, Returned God of the Desert
player, 29 posts
Grey/Fragile/Conjurer
Barren Realm
Fri 16 Oct 2009
at 17:28
  • msg #4

Re: RP WORLD EVENT: The Dread City of Tushmuthut

This... being talking to him... a voice of most chilling embrace. The words seemed to come naturally to him.
"Forgive me, Lord."

Why would he call this person Lord? It seemed so right though... fitting.

"This... scepter i have no memories of. Infact my memories are all but abolished... I'm not even sure why i am here..."
Master Divine
GM, 1162 posts
Fri 16 Oct 2009
at 17:33
  • msg #5

Re: RP WORLD EVENT: The Dread City of Tushmuthut

"A shame."

His disgust made Sura curl over and vomit sand.

"It is too late. When next I return, for a sun and a moon, you will have the scepter."

He waved a hand.

Sura felt himself involuntarily tuning to sand..

A rushing sensation.. he couldn't stop retching..

And the sand was blasted to a thousand points. A powerful wind bore it, breaking the God, ending his life.

Next time, Sura would not fail.
Hierophantasm Reiuji the First, Reborn God of Energy
player, 289 posts
Brown/Slight/Dabbler
Lesser Realm
Fri 16 Oct 2009
at 18:19
  • msg #6

Re: RP WORLD EVENT: The Dread City of Tushmuthut

(This came out surprisingly long. Don't expect me to play nice either.)
Reiuji came, almost the instant she heard the rumor. Isuban, Osiris-Ra, the were both enemies of the Conclave, and they probably would be a threat to her own well being at some point. She had made sure to stay away from the city, at least until she could be sure it was safe enough. Obviously, if the rumor about Osiris-Ra was true she'd be in deep shit if she just ran in like a moron.

"Well, if it's a city made of sand, my ultimate energy can turn it into a city of glass." She muttered, a spike of slight disgust in her voice. "But honestly. They could've made it out of something better. Sand get's everywhere and takes ages to get out." She activates her Energy Radar power, attempting to find out where any sort of gathering was, most likely in an attempt to go around it.
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