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Topics - CryptCypher

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Q&A / Human Interaction
« on: January 02, 2018, 06:47:43 PM »
Can we interact with Humans yet? I'd like to post a chapter about the creation of music/language/spoken word in living beings.

We've got animals and Humans, but outside of the names given by Immortals, these beings have yet to develop language or songs of their own. :) Before they can begin assembling true cultures, we must give unto Man the gift of wisdom ;)

Or dreams, for that matter... Hmm... If allowed, I'd like to sort-of make Apsu the god of dream/songs to continue his backstory and start adding substance to the newly-created Mankind.

May I, or do we need to finish the 3-chapter bit since Astalos made them first?

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Work in Progress / Geography Experiment
« on: December 23, 2017, 05:08:50 PM »
Noticed interesting parallels between the crescent-moon and the big pangea-style continent concepts.

Decided to "fill in the blanks", so to speak, accounting for some breakage, continental drift, etc, factoring in an idea that some sort of cosmic impact caused said breakage. (Happened to be researching impact influence on earth's formation of continents, and hypothetical Hadean Era organisms, so it came up.)

Pardon the horrible quality, everything was done in MS Paint. Had a little too much fun adding detail to the (sub?)continent I made. If anyone thinks the idea works out, I'll type up a little chapter for it. Otherwise, I'll just make something up from scratch like everyone else and hope we can figure out where to stick/orient everything down the road :P Actually... Are we designing multiple continents in parallel yet, or are we focused on a singular origin continent? A bit confused about that. Sorry.

https://imgur.com/a/5thly

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Work in Progress / Communal Creation Myth
« on: December 22, 2017, 02:55:56 PM »
Shall we work out a creation myth together?

Ideas so far:

Quote from: Tom-Tempus
"Pah, Youngsters!", the ancient being thought to itself upon opening his eyes on yet another universe. He had been through more than one already, starting his life as a mere mortal and later becoming a powerful mage, powerful enough to survive the end of the world and be reborn as a god into the next one. Maybe there had been others beyond that, maybe even many? His memory was not what it used to be, a side-effect of achieving immortality late in mortal life.

His resentment of basically everyone and everything else had clung with him through his incarnations.

Tempus looked around, and the world was barren.

"Really? They can't even get the most simply things done before waking an old man?"

Someone in the last universe had called him "grumpy". He had shown him what grumpy looks like.

Quote from: Lapallanch-Astalos
From the dark void between the thousand fires, a powerful being gained consciousness. The being existed even before the time of creation but it came to recognize itself as a singular entity not as a part of the greater whole until now. To distinguish itself from the whole it separated from, it gave itself a name 'Astalos'. Upon its naming, Astalos felt a strange attraction far from its place of awakening. Astalos parted itself from the void and began its journey toward the place which attracted its very being.

Quote from: Jaune-Kalma
There was a huge egg which bursted out from sun. Time passed and egg was circling around the Sun. One day egg hatched out and pale skinned man came out from it. Egg shell pieces fell down to the sea, creating islands.

Sun was burning his pale skin. He started to look for cover from sun.

His name was Kalma, bastard Son of the Sun.

Quote from: Andrew-Solarus
Long and complex, better to link to it: https://forum.battlemaster.org/index.php/topic,8131.0.html

Quote from: CryptCypher-Apsu
From the Void burst forth a Song of Dreamers, so now as infinitely before. Infinity bore the Seed of Creation's Womb, whose tireless chant churned the primeval sea of nothingness to coalesce dreaming gods and spirits without form. Of the Dreamers who bore the Songs of Creation, echoes of a Time before Time, Apsu was but One Voice among the Many. In a place beyond places, in the house of cosmic waters, dead Dreamers lay waiting. They who sang Creation into being, They who gave form unto the formless, whose ceaseless chant conferred dimension unto limitless Void. And so Apsu <We/They/Dreamer(s)> churned, and chanted, among the Countless and the Ceaseless, the gods and spirits beyond infinity by whose dreaming would coalesce existence once more.

If we draw parallels between our concepts, perhaps we may begin fleshing out a rudimentary creation myth, or series of myths. Some of us seem to be going for the long-game, more of a universal-scale "In the Beginning", while others like Kalma are focusing on the more short term solar-system. No reason you can't do both, or any number of segments in the logical sequence of {multiverse-/} void - creation (universe) - expansion - nebulae - stars - worlds - life.

Raw example of such sequential breakdown: https://pastebin.com/Pi1t2uQq

4
Q&A / Creation Myth
« on: December 22, 2017, 01:12:11 PM »
Noted Tom's comments on the island creation myth bit from Kalma's character.

Is there a particular limit to the island/continent/landmass creation? Since liquid bodies also contain life, unique geography, forces, etc, often alien to that of land, are we limited to land-based efforts or can we go all Cthulhu/Outer Gods on ya?

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Characters / Apsu
« on: December 22, 2017, 12:03:41 PM »
From the Void burst forth a Song of Dreamers, so now as infinitely before. Infinity bore the Seed of Creation's Womb, whose tireless chant churned the primeval sea of nothingness to coalesce dreaming gods and spirits without form. Of the Dreamers who bore the Songs of Creation, echoes of a Time before Time, Apsu was but One Voice among the Many. In a place beyond places, in the house of cosmic waters, dead Dreamers lay waiting. They who sang Creation into being, They who gave form unto the formless, whose ceaseless chant conferred dimension unto limitless Void. And so Apsu churned, and chanted, among the Countless and the Ceaseless, the gods and spirits beyond infinity by whose dreaming would coalesce existence once more.

(Does that work?)
---
[Apsu: Sumerian for "Beginning" ("One who exists from the beginning.")] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abzu

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Other Games / Discuss: Legends
« on: December 21, 2017, 11:43:01 AM »
...Just want to say, Tom, you're a friggin' genius. You've no idea how BIG this can get. Every RP/MUD lover's wet dream right there!

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"Lukur ina etuti asbu..."

Eighty-eight silhouettes lay silent beneath a dim Winter sun as D'hara's desperate charge breaks upon enemy flank. As the sounds of steel upon flesh and the final cries of dying men subside, the howling gale shrieks deep in all its horrid glory. Raging bonfires cast remnant shadows across a vast sea of Mattan grain, as the odor of sun-baked gore carries across its glimmering bronze stained crimson-black. With the acrid smoke of charred flesh welling unwelcome tears in the eyes of its survivors, the blood of monsters and men commingle as the scarred plains drink every blasted drop.

Across the jagged Mattan coast lay quaint fishing villages whose strange peasants pray the mourning vigil in the blasphemous name of even stranger Gods... Accursed congregations toiling in those bloodied fields upon which greater men are sacrificed time and again. Trapped in a waking nightmare from which there can be no escape, their lives sustained by the profane ritual of convenient massacre come every blasted winter. The faint scent of mind-numbing Spice lingers upon one's miserable breath, a welcome diversion to ease the stark reality of this hell they call home. Though suffered years may come and go as conquering nations rise and fall, the sacrifice must always be paid - for the Old Gods' thirst is unquenchable. For the respite of those quiet villages and their peculiar denizens, the gift of life bears an unspeakable price: one whose blood-price unwitting nations have paid since time immemorial. As the pyres cast ash unto the maelstrom, and the flames die down to mere cinders, empty prayers are whispered by the foolish spawn of those who dare claim the daemon bounty of Mattan grain.

Battered helms slip over unseeing eyes. Rust-worn blades are whet in futile gestures. A mass grave takes form... And in the dying light of bleak afternoon, those greedy plains await their unholy tribute once more.


Masalu Auru'in // 11-10-17 ; 0402 EST // IC: Winter - Day // D'hara-Dwilight: Mattan Dews (Post-Battle I ; Pre-Battle II v. monster horde)

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Roleplaying / Assorted RP's of Sigrid Gudrun Auru'in
« on: November 06, 2017, 03:57:24 PM »
A place to store the many RP's to come, so I don't lose them like with my old characters/accounts. :)

Quote
Roleplay from Sigrid Gudrun Auru'in   (3 days, 4 hours ago)
Message sent to everyone in the region Krimml (29 recipients)
(Non-English terms are Old Norse. Warriors are Northmen.)

A small retinue approaches from northwest from Commonyr, circa Oligarch.


My first vivid impression of Krimml was that of a squat city nestled unto the verdant hills of Braga.  The pleasant scent of her infamous meat pastries hung gently in the air as the great looming shadow of Oligarch cast wide from late evening's setting sun. Scarred by the passage of countless wars, her four-tiered stronghold rose stark and proud against the silhouette of bandit-infested forests. A distant cadre of trade-wagons creaked and scraped at the loose cobblestone road leading from the great forest toward Oligarch's main thoroughfare, caravan guards on alert for a chance skirmish by overzealous brigands. Tonight however, not a soul lay claim to the slightest footfall beneath her wavering boughs: for only fool or madman would stir trouble in these circumstances.

"Ýmirs frosteistna... Now that's a bloody army..." (Ymir's frosty balls)


A thousand bodies flittered lazily between clusters of hastily-pitched tents sown wide beyond the sloping rim of Krimml's outer reaches, inhabiting a sparse expanse of uneven terrain likely cleared by malnourished woodsmen and restless invaders of ages past. Scattered campfires spewed trails of smoke as the final rays of dying light shoze brazenly across the glinting armor of at least five-hundred infantrymen. Twenty-nine distinct banners fluttered in the evening breeze as heepish campwomen, hurried cooks, jingling traders, and assorted servants made up the hundreds wandering where chain and plate failed to betray soldier's garb. Small groups of wary rangers clumped together in various vantage points, the off-brown of their faded leather reminiscent of dried blood drops.


Though I could recognize scant few banners from a brief study of Oligarch's records, one stood out as being of decidedly foreign origin. Around fifty tired-looking rangers huddled beneath that foreign banner as the thick smoke of their camfires licked the sky. Perhaps a passing dignitary come to meet with Prime Minister Mersault,  or an early arrival for Duke Tandaros's wedding. Surrounded as they were by at least a thousand armed Sirionites, there could be no fear of foolish betrayal.


My own retinue of rangers, nineteen in all, gradually slowed their exhausted march as we approached the furthest camp. A few men briefly paused to look our way - gazing curiously at our single quivering standard - whence flew bloody Phoenix upon a background of sable flanked by argent flaunches. I wondered for a passing moment if any still recalled the old meaning of twin flaunches upon heraldic shield...  That archaic debruisement whence claimed the illegitimate spawn of a noblewoman must bear her arms with "a surcoat"; that is, on large flaunches around a blank center. Except the center of my own banner bore the shining crimson of a feathered bird from whose wings those brilliant white flaunches radiated like the rays of a Gods' light.


"Nei brandir! Takið þér yðart bogi... Ragnarr: hvar er bogi þitt, saurig víking skítkarl? Ja, yðart bogi, Ragnarr! Óðins skegg... Nei búinn, lítil píka? Ek várkann geirr hafa saurig arsgat þitt...

(No swords! Grab your bows. Ragnarr, where is your bow, you dirty viking bastard? Yes, your bow, Ragnarr! Odin's beard... Unready, little bitch? I pity the spear that takes your dirty [email protected]#$%^&...)

Chuckling beneath my breath as my warriors laughed in stride, I bellowed a final command to the men as we strode through thickening crowds. The haggard and the battle-hardened, servants and soldiers whose sole purpose in life was to live and die beneath the glint of a blade. Such is the fate of all men who wage war, and upon whom war is waged: an effortless tide of conflict which none may escape for more than a brief moment of respite.

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