The gaps in his memory, often frustrating in their own right, make this particular all the more confusing. Why had Grootwithaai chosen to sneak into the Abyssal Plains, which he seemed to recall was a particular afterlife of a particular God? Had he gone to eat a soul before it could enter the reincarnation cycle?

Location added : The Abyssal Plains, in the Celestial Realms. Owner: unknown. Current condition: unknown

---

The Everstorm is coming! And with it

Ninth shivered at the sight of Father of Otters, battered and scarred. It reminded him of the Foe, in the flashes of images that eluded his memory and accompanied his song. But without the foul taste-scent of that caricature of a figure. He was nervous though, and shied away from asking their host of the matter, instead, deflecting his curiosity to the story-holders of gems and metal, "Have you found the Song yet, Father of Otters? Or have I asked before? I remember the song used to haunt the waves in the air, and live in rainbow spinners that the Believers carried... but I can't find any"

His chord thrummed, full of power and hair, "I came because of the storm. Something's coming. Something bigger than my memories"

OOC: apologies for the missing text

The Everstorm is coming! And with it, buried within the lightning, thunder, and detritus, the small gods can feel a thousand fists knocking on a thousand doorways.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:21, Fri 25 Feb 2022.

Skelos was at that very moment standing, well floating, inside one of the primary pumps for that area.  Given where he was,  dematerialized, he could observe the   intake valves at work, the suction of saltwater into the greater sewage  system, through the channel canals, into storage unit one, and from there into the two working boilers.   The water was then boiled, caught up into the five turn pipes, and dumped, free of salt, into storage tanks Ashon or Boshon, with three fourths of the removed salt being dumped via elevator into its own     respective storage units.     It was that one-forth of salt that remained behind that interested Skelos. He needed it. Well, he would need it, and soon, but not yet, and not as it currently was.   That was why he was concentrating, descending into his own consciousness  for the same internal well of power, small that it was, that he had instinctively used to  attune to the city.  He used it now to attune to the pumping system, and to  boiler one.  He became that pump and that boiler, as much control of them, as he once had over his own body, when he had a body.

It wasn’t easy.

Even though the boiler did have pistons and a mechanism to interrupt  the boiling process, to Skelos, locking down the  plates over the electric ports and preventing the injectors from spewing out gas for further ignition was like straining long-unused muscles.  Opening the rear door to allow the salt water to flow through — and carrying the additional salt with it— into the holding tank on the right most side was easy as breathing used to be.  After that Skelos let initial process resume as normal, only interrupting them twice more, as to  fill up that holding tank about halfway, with very salty water.

The structures he’d viewed, well the two that were still fully standing, happened to have a vapor and         terrestrofield  surrounding them, and one of the things behind that field had been  a good  five yards length of Mourner’s Moss. He’d need that, along with the heavy salted water, if he was going to fight the necrotic rot all about him.

Iridiana tilted her head as the Father of Otters spoke to her. Chingaree Devas were what those whose form she had taken were Known as then, interesting. Or perhaps that was what he had simply decided they should be named. Nevertheless, she replied.

- "The Celestial Realm... You seem to Know of them. Have you been there?"

The Everstorm began to rage outside, sounding like many people trying to get in. And maybe it was, for all she knew, but she wasn't about to open a door to look. Opening doors could lead to unexpected things, she Knew, and not all of them good.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:28, Fri 25 Feb 2022.

Grootwithaai settles into the otter pool with the otters, he enjoys some mock predation, harmlessly chomping through the creatures to scratch a carnivourous itch. Knowing the creatures are protected by his host, he quickly overcomes the instinct and settles into a lazy cruise.

"The maelstrom has always been a chaotic constant. I have swam in its shadow for hundreds, maybe thousands of seasons. A horizon not to be crossed that shifted and breathed as the Tides once did.

Nature...no not nature, entropy perhaps demands that it lashes out from time to time."

His raspy tone seems unvexed by the existential threat but his instinct was to seek the shelter of the ruins.

“And the storm comes calling, calling.
And the rain is falling, falling.
And the lightening is flashing, and the thunder’s crashing, and it all beats upon me,
But I remain thankfully, still loving thee.
As constant as the tide, I shall abide, when the winds writhe,
And the monster of entropy’s drums of war do beat, you’ll still find me, oh me, loving thee.  “

The storm had come, while he was inside the boiler.

The memories had come with it.

Not all, mind, but more than he had within his mental storehouse prior, and that was a fine thing in of itself.

“Oh Stormmaker, dance with the breaker,
And in the shaker you’ll find in the shaping of humanity, me, oh me, still loving thee.
Even crushed under the landslide, I’ll still abide, in this merely a fragment of a memory,
Still loving thee. “

One of the others was a fragment, he thought, of the world song. The song of the  Fundamental Elemental Core’s, the drum of the Terrestrial, the brass of the Flamekin, the string of the Liquidborn, the woodwinds of the Vaporkin, who’s song and dance led to the various Ethers, which were captured and barggened for, by mortals as part of alchemical ingredients, and part of the crystaltech, which in turn made modern civilization possible –    had made it possible.  Could they make it possible again? He could recall, even now, only one of the tongues completely, but the other three were only fragments, enough to get ideas across, but hardly enough for the fluency he had once possessed.

Still, no spark of memory for who he had once truly been.

It bothered him.

Skelos turns down a different path amid the rotting sludge within these halls, and finds an ancient machine suitable for his purposes. Inhabiting the necromantic device, the ghost channels the anbaric energies within the system to channel salt water closer to the patch of Mourner's Moss growing nearby.

Miracle attempt

The cost of a miracle is determined by the total outcome desired, and usually is not pieced together in small steps like this (ie, NOT "spend 1 belief to acquire the salt, 1 belief to acquire the moss, etc"). See Steps For Miracle Casting, in the Rules thread.

To perform a miracle, I need you to:
1) Determine what you want to happen.
2) Determine how to accomplish it.
3) Describe the Miracle.

Then I will help you:
4) Determine the Miracle’s cost.
5) Spend Belief.

At which point,
6) The Miracle occurs!
--> 6.a) Gain Belief from Followers seeing your Miracle

Though, there are no Followers right now, mere minutes before they arrive. Casting a miracle now, will mean the miracle's effects are available for you to direct potential Followers to. Alternately, you could wait until there are potential followers on the ground, and enticing these folks to follow you would be a part of the miracle's effects)

Once the miracle is cast, there is an option for other gods to counter it, but you don't seem to be in direct conflict with another god. Though, I have no idea what you're trying to do, so who knows?

The scars spread across the "body" of the Father of Otters seems to crackle with tiny sparks of anbaric energy as he tries to remember. Somewhere within his lair, the hum of a malignant engine emits a low, constant hiss.

"The Celestial Realms, yes. As my reknown grew, I became aware of a door, just outside of my awareness, tantalizingly outside of my reach. Of course, young Ot-tt-tt-tt-tt-tter, you would recognize that as the First Path, which leads to the Garden Gates, home of Fate and his Devas. But when I was but a small god, I had no one to tell me such places even existed, let alone how to get there."

The Father of Otters speaks as though he is reciting lines, and not lines he originally spoke, but seemingly words that had been said to him, in some distant and unknowable past. At points, the images and words skip back on itself, as it works a path through the corruptions to the rest of the word.

The putrid stench of anbaric forces twisting inside rotting machines grows louder, and dead-light coalesces in the center of the room, forming pictures and images. You all instinctively know that such focused dead-lights are deeply harmful, should you come in direct contact with them. Here, floating above your heads, you can look at them easily without touching them.

Had you human eyes, watching humans talk, you would have called this a movie of an old man telling his child campfire tales while they roasted marshmallows. But you are gods, watching the reverie of another god, recorded using the arts of the dead, and projected beyond time and space through death magic. The memories and the words feel more like a haunting, like some ancient lich's final grave curse twisted these memories and spirits to it's own ends, regardless of the simple pleasures permeating the original moment.

"Once my flock grew stable and secure, and, I'm told, of sufficient size, I could finally see the door, right behind me. Always right behind me. I could not face the door, but I could reach behind myself and t-t-t-t-touch it, twist the handle, and step backwards into the Celestial Realms. It is one of Fate's Miracles, those doors. Or perhaps the work of whatever created Fate and placed him in our world."

One of the panels of the walls lights up red, with ancient glyphs scrawled across it in black, like they had been carved into wet sand by a talon. Nearby, another panel transforms into a spinning globe, a slash of red spreading from the north most tip to the southernmost.

"The First Path leads to a wide delta, where the River of Souls spreads out into a thousand tributaries. Here, Fate tends to the Soul Grove, the fruits of these trees fed by the River until they are ready to fall into the world. The Devas tend these trees, and greet visitors. A Chingaree Deva, her True Name eaten long ago, welcomed me, guided me, showed me the Realms. She told me who dwelt where, and helped me pick a location for my own Realm. Here, the Belief flowed so thickly that creating my Realm was as easy as spreading my wings."

As Grootwithaai speaks a simple truth about the Everstorm, an amber dot appears on the globe above, nearly touching the streak of red energy.



In the same moment, Skelos sings a forgotten song, and some mischievious Dead Thing hears the song, and stirs from its long slumber long enough to whisper,

Command code accepted.

And as Ninth Augmented Fifth yearns for something lost, the amber dot on the globe flashes bright enough for its edges to touch the red streak, which explodes. In a fragment of a moment, the red streak, surely representing the Everstorm, expands out across the entire globe and a million amber dots bloom within its spreading glow.

Each of you can feel an unimaginable number of portals opening up throughout the Everstorm. Can feel a thousands booted feet kick these doors open, and several dozen different types of Potential Followers begin leaping through these doors and into your world. Only ten (10) leap through any single door, although your inherent divinity insists that such Miracles should be proportioned in some other, more esoteric number.

Many of these mortals die instantly, the chaotic energies of the Everstorm ripping their souls out of their bodies. With each death, you can hear a howl of rage and impotence echo out of the door they came from.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:35, Tue 08 Mar 2022.

Iridiana felt a great many portals open, and though she did not Remember what it had been like when she must have had crossed one upon entering this world, she somehow still Knew what was going on outside, in the Everstorm. Aware of the ones that were dying.

Thus, she attempted to mimic what Skelos had done earlier, reaching out in an attempt to gather the consciousnesses of the dead and dying to herself, gathering their memories to add to her own. Since coming here, her mind unKnown to her, Knowledge was what she sought, and the preservation of Memory felt of great importance to her. She did not Know how it would affect her, but she would Learn from the attempt, and be all the wiser for it.

Grootwithaai's disposition immediately changes. Faint etherial sounds and fragments of souls diffuse through the layers of loam and concrete.

Agitated he swims in tight circles with ever increasing speed. Life and death, new signs of mortals he never expected to feel again.

"There's no place for us", whispered Ninth Augmented Fifth, an fragment of memory surfacing, full of reverberations of sorrow and loss and longing, "No time but what we make"

"They've got the knowing of things", they finished, almost imperceptible bar from the note of hope, through which their own name-chord sang, "And I the knowing of them"

Their chord swelled, siren-like to steer a threshold for one of the portals close by, those emerging attuned to them

Attempting a Miracle
1. Ninth wants to pull some (more?) Potential Followers to them, metaphysically and physically if possible
2. Ninth is tuning those portals being opened to their own nature, finding one that is close to their themes
3. Ninth is enacting it through their knowledge and control of harmonies, literal and miraculous

Grootwithaai is hit with a wave terror from the dying mortal souls and immediately craves it. He knows it is the path to madness without the aegis of Spirit Siphonophores of the Abyss.

Knowing venturing out into the maelstrom in search of one now may sweep his spirit away as well, he just circles and pontificates "Is this my end? After all of this time? Surviving season and cataclysm to be driven to insanity by that which is maddening seductive?

Had I known, I would have thrown myself into oblivion a long....long time ago.

Have you no taste for it? The emotions of the weak and dying?" He asks the others.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:11, Wed 16 Mar 2022.

Iridiana gathers Worn Souls into herself, plucking them from the River like a fisher with a net.

---Begin OOC---

This is an Alteration Miracle, since you are changing something from one thing to another, in this case the path that souls take.

(Note that souls aren't part of the Rules As Written, but I like the idea, so we're running with it. Currently, there are two types of Souls - Fresh Souls, like what Iridiana started as before gaining Belief, and Worn Souls, plucked from the reincarnation cycle like pulling a dirty cup out of the dishwasher before the rinse cycle.)

The Base cost is determined by the quality of souls you're choosing to gather.

2 - Trivial Alteration / d4s
3 - Minor Alteration / d6s (standard)
4 - Significant Alteration / d8s
5 - Major Alteration / d10s
6 - Legendary Alteration / d12s

It sounds like you're trying to gather souls with a High Mind Stat, with Average Body and Spirit. Is that correct? If you want souls with two or all three stats high, the base cost goes up 1 or 2 steps, respectively.


Note that souls, being dead, do not count as Followers, and will not help you generate Belief until you find something to do with them, which will take another miracle. You can either specify that:

•   you take them at the moment of death, for the "Belief refund" you get when performing miracles in front of Believers, OR
• you can take the ones have already started to swim down the River, which will have a story effect, and can be done using the Everstorm for much cheaper (Base Cost without multiplier), and will also have a story effect. Trying to use the Everstorm to affect still-living souls would be....ill-advised.

The following Cost Factors may apply:

Cost Factors always start at 1.

Duration
Either a quick grab, or you're opening a doorway into your sanctuary and gathering souls for the length of the Everstorm. In this case, that mechanically works out to be the same as 1 step on the scale chart, below.

Instant +0
One conflict or one week +1
(you could go for a longer duration, but I doubt you have the belief for it)

Domain
Without anyone left who remembers you, you are not remembered for anything and have no domains. Once you complete this Miracle, the souls you gather will definitively know of you, and you'll have domains related to this defining act.

Inclinations
How would you describe this?

• Creation: Creation Miracles bring things into being.
• Destruction: Destruction Miracles destroy or kill things.
• Transformation: Transformation Miracles physically alter things.
• Control: Control Miracles mentally alter people and creatures.

Remember, you should have picked your inclinations by now. If you're in Harmony, it's -1 (min 1). Opposed is +1


Location
The Miracle occurs on or in a location that no god controls. +0

Scale
How many souls do you wish to try to gather?

The sum of the Cost Factors gets looked up on a table (see Rules msg #3).


Assuming you collect Trivial souls (d4s), through the entire everstorm, in a way harmonious to your godhood, you could collect hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of them for 60 Belief (Base Cost 2 * 15 (Cost Factor 1 -1 +5 +1 = 6, lookup on table)

Or, if you do it harmoniously, you could instantly grab 10 Legendary souls (d12s) for 6 Belief. (Base 6 * 1 (Cost Factor 1 -1 +1 = 1, lookup on table).

Or any combination above. And remember, you'd still have to do something with them. They're not Followers...yet. Though, they will be tethered to you (as protected from the Everstorm as you are), loyal, and willing to take your orders.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:19, Mon 21 Mar 2022.

Ninth Augmented Fifth draws Followers to them, tugging the portal doors with a stuccatto beat that grows strongly and more sure of itself with every step they take towards their new god.

---Begin OOC---

This is an Alteration Miracle, since you are changing something from one thing to another, in this case the destination of the portals harboring Followers who share a kinship with you.

This is in many ways similar to Iridiana's miracle, only with Followers. Whatever level of Alteration miracle you pick will be their base stats for Body, Mind, and Spirit. Of whatever quantity you gather, 30% will have +1 step to one stat, in whatever ratios you feel like.

Domain
You are doing this with Music, which is mostly what you are. I'm willing to call that a Primary Domain, which has a (house ruled) Cost Factor of -2

Other Factors

You may choose to harness the Everstorm in place of the Cost Factor part of the equation. This will randomize the Scale of the effect, and will also have a story effect.

As he speaks, Grootwithaai can feel Iridiana gathering souls into herself, and Ninth drawing resonant Followers through doorways and towards themselves.

There is a difference between feeding on the Terror consuming living mortals as they take their last breath, and gathering souls after they have passed out of their mortal coils. It feels more like a shark gathering remora to nibble and lick molds and parasites free from the shark's divine body, letting those remora feed upon the scraps that spill from your mouth.

Ninth, on the other hand, seems to be drawing kindred spirits to their side. A school of baby sharks, Ninth's very own children, by celestial reasoning, regardless of what waters they were birthed in. This also looks quite different from the crashing, mind-fogging glory of Terror, for as these Followers feel the awe-inspiring presence of Ninth in their lives, it is like watching a shipwrecked mortal lost at sea taking their first drink of pure water in centuries, only it is a God instead of a mortal.

An electric crackle of energy explodes from one of the undulating spheres pushed into the wall, and strikes Grootwithaai, and with it comes a....

Memory: You recall the technologies of Sailboats and Celestial Navigation, and many more poorly-understood seafaring technologies that came after it. With it, comes brief visions of long-lost parts of yourself:
an altar with your idol, a sextant, and a spyglass; an audience strapped into 6DMAX Full Sensory Chairs, cooing with delight and terror over a favored story about their beloved god, Grootwithaai; a terrible, aching emptiness as a vessel sinks below the waves, a skywhale roaring triumphantly as it sails overhead; an insatiable need for revenge; and....kinship? For a skywhale?

Leaning into the staccato beat, Ninth lets the music swell and soar, images of lightning recalled to their mind though the song eludes them still

OOC: Let's throw this into the Everstorm for Scale, and play with Legendary power for a Base Cost of six Belief; hopefully that's no too early a throw of precious resources! For the 30%, split evenly between a +1 step to each of Body, Mind and Spirit

In reply to Ninth Augmented Fifth (msg # 57):

A denser quantity of portals begin to open, flooding the ancient ruins with new life. However, the conditions of the storm have not lessened, and....now that they are closer, many of these Followers seem very confused, many not even seeking shelter from the storm before being struck by it.

Not all who are struck in this way die. Like the crystals which once harnessed the Everstorm for the city's uses, these individuals soak up the chaotic energy and are changed by it.

You notice that some Tiny Gods, hungry for greater power, even try to leap towards and possess such Storm-wrought bodies, with varying degrees of success.

The storm has taken this miracle of music and amplified it. The song does not fade away after a few bars, but pulses and trembles throughout the storm. One almost gets the sense that even the flashes of lightning in this region are now sparking off in time to the beat. The density of portals grows thicker and thicker, and soon the streets of Salvanas That Was are knee deep in bodies -- killed either by the passage, or the storm, or each other -- causing the thousands of survivors to stumble, fall, or crawl as they seek shelter. Some of the refugees fleeing their world actually fall into other portals as they leap through, they've grown so numerous.

While for the most part, these mortals are a scattered mix, distributed haphazardly in starting groups of 10 before some or all fall, the strange thing is that they sometimes band together with aliens from other worlds, despite the language barrier. These mergers only seem to happen when the groups that encounter each other would form a new group of exactly ten members. Yet, any other time two groups run into each other, they begin to fight. Poorly. Like untrained, uninspired, terrified children who can't recognize each other as mortals equally capable of Belief.

One Follower steps through a portal high in the sky, carrying her Small God in a golden idol in two of her hands, both seemingly protected from the raging of the storm. Instantly, ten Chingaree Devas materialize in the sky above the city and begin doing battle with the High Priestess. With a gesture, the High Priestess smites one of the Devas in half before diving for cover.

Within the confusion of all this, Ninth Augmented Fifth finds his kindred spirits, a village's worth of souls who were touched, not just by the music, but by the holy touch of Ninth Augmented Fifth, untainted by the influence of the Everstorm.

OOC:

12:42, Today: Fate rolled 9 using 3d8 ((6,1,2)).  Scale for Ninth's Everstorm-fueled miracle. (Nation, Individual, Household; average of Village)
Today: Fate rolled 2 using 1d2.  Duration for Ninth's Everstorm-fueled miracle.
Result: conflict-long

13:16, Today: Fate rolled 59 using 10d12 with rolls of 3,8,10,7,8,1,3,5,8,6.  Conflict between legendary warriors, side B.
13:15, Today: Fate rolled 64 using 10d12 with rolls of 7,11,11,6,6,9,1,6,3,4.  Conflict between legendary warriors, side A.

Highest rolls:
Side A: 11
Side B: 10

Side A wins with 2 dice higher than Side B's highest roll, therefore killing 2 stacks from Side B. Next round, Side B will only be rolling 8d12.

13:27, Today: Fate rolled 51 using 10d10 with rolls of 6,4,8,7,5,10,3,6,1,1. Chingaree Devas
13:26, Today: Fate rolled 11 using 1d12 with rolls of 11.  Sister From Another World.

The Chingaree Devas's highest roll is a 10. Their opponent has only 1 die higher than 10, and so the Devas lose, and lose one stack token.

Ninth would normally now gain (1d12 * 2) Belief, from their followers, but since the miracle was fueled by the Everstorm, this Belief is swept up by those chaotic forces.

Explicitly, Ninth Augmented Fifth has just gained 100 Followers with base stats of d10. 30 of these have one attribute at d12, 10 for each stats, Body, Mind, and Spirit.

They have also vastly increased the pool of potential recruits within range of Salvanas.

Ninth, as you reveal yourself to your new Followers, you can feel a doorway appear "behind" you in a 5th or 6th dimension. Wherever you move in the mortal realm, you can feel this portal within arms reach. It does not block your ability to move or perceive, as it occupies a direction in which nothing else exists. Father of Otters has told you about this experience, and you assume it is the path to the Celestial Realm granted to all Gods with sufficient Followers.

If Father of Otters is to be believed, once you step through that door, you will be safe from the Everstorm and any other mortal threat, while still hearing the prayers of your people. Then, you need only exit the Garden, claim an unused chunk of Realm as your own, shape some part of it into a scrying device that would let you see into the mortal realm, and then you'd be able to save these folks from the comfort of a perfectly imagined choir stand, or whatever you'd like.

Your new Followers are currently wading through a sea of dead bodies, beset by a soul-threatening storm, without food or shelter. Though they feel the hope inherent to being close to their god, they do not know your name, nor any aspect of you sufficient to pray to you specifically. As such, their prayers for salvation can be heard by any god nearby.

Grootwithaai, understanding now his mistake looks to the mortals fighting in the streets and the small gods drawing souls and followers to themselves.

Visualizing the familiar pier in the bay, Grootwithaai pours the little belief he has to convert the ruins into a safe haven. He alters the buildings to provide sufficient physical and psychic shelter from the storm and he patrols to make sure no harm befalls the mortals within.

Ooc: 2 miracles, one alteration for spirtitual and physical shelter and a sense of calm. One destructive miracle to keep dangers at bay. Goal is to serve as the guardian of the pier and attract mortals to live inside (without killing each other).

Will work on the math shortly but I think it'll use all 10 belief.

Torn between the challenge their nascent Followers faced and the unopened door behind them, Ninth sought a chord that would provide for a path for them, a vision perhaps. They searched their memories, seeking somewhere within Salvanas That Was that their folk may gather. If none presented there was the shoreline, and that was the vision they sent - a place where they might hunt and fish, with the memories of otters fishing and fish glimmering in the shoals

Grootwithaai reshapes the pier into...

I need the details on the miracles before proceeding, and please describe the sanctuary you create. We'll stick to the pier for an option, since there are folks landing all over the city now.

Ninth, there are many ruins you can bring your people to. Notably, there is a small campus of ruined museums, an urban shopping mall, or an auditorium you can start with, along with the shoreline. It will cost you 1 Belief to send the vision. Again, please describe it.

Miracle to perform dramatic surgical strikes on threats against the pier to make an example of a few to scare off many. If groups less than 10 approach the pier (which appears to be the point they turn aggressive?), they are free to seek shelter at the pier and join the others.

3 Minor alteration
-1 Destruction in balance
+1 conflict
+1 10 peeps

Total cost = 3

Turn the pier into a port in the storm. On the pier itself repair the ruins of the buildings and at the front create an imposing bulwark that can be easily defended but still accessible. If there is extra belief left over, Grootwithaai would infuse the area with a sense of calm to keep the mortals from going aggro.


3 Minor alteration

+0 Transmutation in harmony
+0 instant
+2 100 people

Total cost = 6

Common miracle: Manifest
Cost= 1


In the chaos of this deliverance of mortals Grootwithaai felt the energies of violence and life filling the city and his pent up frustrations and appetite for belief now within reach combined into an unstoppable impulse.

He swam out of the sewers and headed for the coast. Scanning the waterfront for a suitable spot his eyes alight upon the old naval pier jutting out into the sea. Warehouses and barracks were soon similarly teeming with new life that instantly descended into infighting. Grootwithaai, seeing a whole potential ecosystem falling into senseless violence summoned a bit of what little belief he and expended it. In the ocean, his body solidified out of the ethereal plane, fin splitting the water as in days of old. He relished the sensations and they urged him on.

Embelleshing, he took a colossal form, matching the size of the ships resting at the bottom of the bay and with it, he pushes his thoughts upon the believers on the pier with immense pressure.

"MORTALS! DO NOT WASTE THE PRECIOUS GIFT THAT IS LIFE. I BESTOW YOU SANCTUARY UPON THIS PIER. I SHALL DESTROY THOSE WHO WOULD SEEK TO HURT YOU. HONOR THE PEACE I GIVE YOU OR RECIEVE MY WRATH. WITNESS! WITNESS THE SMILE OF KNIVES! WITNESS THE CARNAGE THAT PROTECTS! WITNESS GROOTWITHAAI!"

As he spoke the buildings on the pier transformed.  The metal sided warehouses and barracks, ruined and ripped through were mended, strengthened, and fortified. Within the howling of the maelstrom instantly relented as the walls and roofs formed a shelter for those within. At the abutment at the start of the pier, a jagged rock face sprung up, leaving a narrow path through a fortified and imposing barrier. Wherever Grootwithaais powers touch, small outcroppings of bioluminecent algea, barnacles and corals arise giving the pier a faint glow.

And with that Grootwithaai begins his watch of the pier. Receding back into etheralness, he intends to rebuff any mortal, souls or gods who dared approach the gates or swim out over the waters with hostility. When presented with a group, Grootwithaai makes an example of one, 'biting' a limb and rupturing skin and tissues, seeking to scare away the threats. Any mortals seeking shelter were spared as Grootwithaai secured a final bastion of believers.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:16, Thu 24 Mar 2022.

Gathering themselves, Ninth let a chord sing out - subsonic here in Father of Otter's chamber, but clear and audible to those whom they had summoned.

Wordless, it spoke to them: of history, antiquity, a place of safety in the museums of the city. Places of knowledge, once, and memories. A very fine vintage.

Wordless, Ninth spoke: seek those who hum this chord, seek the safety of the museums with their thick walls and their juxtaposition of necrotic engines and ancient devices, each explained

Wordless, humming: find it, claim it, hold it