Cradle of Gods

Revache

As Revache came closer to land, she could make out the lonely little wharf in the distance. She saw a couple of travellers down below, trying and failing to start a humble little campfire. Who they were or what they intended was anyone's guess, but she hoped they'd give her and the girl a moment's peace.

After sailing down on the winds, her wings slowed to a gentle flutter, landing with grace as she carefully dropped Poppy atop the docks. One of the strangers rushed to greet her, but it seemed she was more friend than foe.

"Thank you. If I have any intent, it's to have some much-needed rest. And to see that this one is safe and sound."

She moved closer, crouching towards Poppy in her weakened state. "We've been through... a lot, I'll have you know. Stumbling aboard a rotting old ship, taken prisoner like a pair of brainless wenches, shoved in the drink and barely escaping from those bloated, bald... things... after all that, it wouldn't do to leave her, would it?"

She stood back up, glancing at Cait's strange tattoos and... peculiar sense of fashion.

"Though I must say, you wouldn't look at all out of place among those wretched scallywags. I'm sure there's a story to tell, and a fascinating one at that! Perhaps we can bring our dear Poppy over to the fire and fill each other in? Regal one another with riveting tales of adventure and daring-do! I can even give your bundle of sticks a friendly jumpstart, if you'd like." She puffed out a small ember of flame, flickering in the shadows and making her offer clear.

Captain Holloway

“That would be... delightful,” Caitlin's eyes lit up at the same time Revache's flame did, and helped settle Poppy down by the fire before calling out to the others. “Everyone! We've guests! One familiar!”

She then turned back to Revache, crossing her arms as she paced around her in an investigative manner, before stopping in front of her and sticking out her hand for a shake.

“Caitlin Jessamine Holloway. Former captain of the Bloody Catastrophe, title-holder of the Witch of Dhi'reime, and currently still reeling from vomiting up some dark magic doppelganger earlier today. Pleasure to meet you, and you have a keen eye I see.”

She pursed her lips into a smile, casting her eyes over in the general direction of the Bloated they were currently housing. There was a cruel irony in this whole situation somewhere.

“It seems these undead folk emulate Panthalassan pirates to an eerie degree. We have one as a defeated ally, fortunately. But rest assured, we despise this place as much as you do. It seems we all underwent horrifying trials to meet up again like this.”

Edited by Enirboreh on Dec 7th 2021 at 5:19:41 PM

Revache

"Many thanks! It's an honour to meet you. You may call me..." She was about to give her formal name, but she remembered her adventures with Poppy. After all they'd been through, it would only be proper to give her true name. And if these were her friends, perhaps they deserved the same courtesy.

"...Revache. Dragonblood of the Dagone clan, and storyteller without equal. It's not a name I give lightly, I assure you. But it does sound like you've been through an ordeal. One of the many things I'm curious about."

Now in front of the campfire, she breathed a small trickle of flame, enough to cause the flames to roar with blazing fervour. "...but there we are! A roaring fire, as promised." She sat down in front of the fire, leaning back and stretching her legs as she soaked in the heat.

"Yesss! That's the ticket! A bit of searing heat is what the mystics ordered!"

Nasira stood in contemplation as she pieced together Masaru's words alongside the scant hints of the Kiln's purpose from the undead, nameless sailor. When she was first here and saw the kiln, the corpses, and the undead roaming above, she had initially assumed that by some magic it was meant to reanimate the corpses piled up, reviving them in a crude mirror to Masaru's own resurrection. But the sailors specifically told her company that the Ember Knight referred to them as "ignorant" and in light of knowing the Bloated next to her was not granted a name, that prior inhabitants left behind a race of pale giants, that despite their grotesque forms the sailors were considered to have little in the way of "sin" according to Masaru's recollection... It was clear that the Kiln's purpose was not to revive the dead.

It was to create life. That would explain why the Bloated seemed so little informed - they had only been taught around what was needed in terms of serving the "Admiral." It was why him being in charge was considered so obvious, because they had been designed specifically to follow him. It was why they were so shocked when Caitlin's doppelganger snuffed out one of their comrades. The Kiln could not bring him back from the dead - simply remold his body into something new.

The pile of corpses was raw material, as were the rotting fish. What of their souls? Their wills? Is that brought forth within them by the flames, or by some other force? If I create beings to aid us against the Pretender, would I be binding them as their creator their mind, their souls, their being? If they die for us, will they find their way to Hawaiki after death, with no past and no culture to guide them?

Nasira's mind was a jumble of thoughts, the implications and ramifications of creating new life weighing heavy on her, she who was enslaved herself, but she shook her thoughts clear. They needed some way of fighting on the sea if they were to stand a chance against this shard's pretender. Otherwise everyone would be trapped here - Contender, Pretender, Bloated, and new creation alike.

And, if the flame would answer her thoughts... then her questions, her aspirations, her fears, they could serve to fuel the fires of creation as well.

"...I'm sorry for suddenly growing quiet. Is there a way to reach the bottom of the Kiln and return? It would be easiest to ignite a fire from within and I shouldn't need to worry about the flames."

Val

Val had stuck with Nasira as all this was going on, occasionally peering at the Kiln with a frown. The Kiln makes things, that much is obvious, but how will this be in any way helpful in defeating the Pretender? What, are we just gonna...shove 'em in and turn it on?

...ah well. I'm sure someone's figured out a plan by now! Right?

"Why not just toss one in?" he said, in response to Nasira's questions. "Just, throw a fireball at the bottom of the Kiln. I'm sure that'll work! Probably."

Sword's part of the search for food quickly devolved from a methodical prowl around the wharf into yet another temper tantrum. Her thought was someone had to have some super easy stash of food somewhere, but she was quickly proven wrong. It started out as a knowing look at an invisible audience, followed by a couple knocks on walls she were sure would yield a hollow sound indicating a hidden smuggler's stash. The walls and floors were defiantly solid. Sword felt the same fury that she'd just felt, building in response to the world's silence, its refusal of her will. This time, at least, she recognized it in time!

She decided she needed a break at the Kiln, leaving behind only a single fist-shaped crater in one of the houses. Maybe it'd help to just talk for a bit instead. The acoustics of the caves kept her apprised of the conversation as she tromped down there, which was great, because she loved pulling dramatic stunts like this.

"Kids learn by playing." She called out to them as she approached, as if they'd been speaking to her the whole time. "I say we need to play god to learn on the small scale before we try it for real. If that scares you, well..." she snorted. "No turning back, pal."

Orphan's Folly

"No need ta help me! Got it all sorted and shit!", grumbled the one-armed Bloated, as he shoved another pile of fishguts and filth out of the chamber, shooting the others a dirty glance. After a few more minutes, while they expected the Kiln, the room was marginally cleaner. It was still better to not look too closely into the corners, but it no longer was crammed.

Patting his shoulders and briefly flinching, as he tried to clap his hands only to realize he only had one left, the Bloated cleared his throat. "Sooo...ehm..yaah. Usin' that bloody thin'...." He looked at the Kiln nervously, as if it could suck him in, if he wasn't careful. Just to be safe, he subtly shuffled back, so Sword stood between him and it.

"Ah only ever saw tha First Mate use it and he didn't light it up or somethin'. Mostly just cut his thumb,dropped blood in and then touched the sides with his hand. Whole thing glowed, while he grunted and somethin'. Looked exhaustin', really. After that, more lads just crawled out.", he explained his experiences with it. "Then again, sometimes bugger all happened. Or worse, somethin' wrong crawled out. He killed those. Or they got stuck and we gotta clean up then."

He shrugged. "Ah ain't no bright fella, but Ah figure you just gotta try. You got fire, so that's somethin'. Fist Mate always complained of havin' none of that, though not a clue why he didn't just throw a torch in it." He scratched his nose with his bonefinger and then spat a glob of snort on the ground. "But ye...fire and somethin' to create shit with. He always said its like a Katalisht or somethin'. No clue..."

As they looked again at the Kiln, he got noticably more nervous. After looking to the door and back to them, he finally coughed. "Oush....better Ah leave ya to it. Am outside, if ya need anythin', ma ladies..." And with that, he hastily made his exit.

"...ah. S-Sorry," Nasira apologized bashfully as she realized that she along with her companions not lacking in limbs failed to assist with the clean-up. The djinn considered trying to make up for it in some way, but what was done was done and it was done without their assistance. It was something she would need to think about later, when had got the chance.

Regardless, with the space cleared and some instructions on how to use the Kiln from the sailor (scant and ambiguous it had been), Nasira looked over the Kiln, the (dead) "raw material", and listened to her companions' words. "I want to be in a position where I can control the process as much as possible," she explained to Val. "From the sailor's words and his condition, it seemed their 'First Mate' used the Kiln haphazardly. If I myself am in the Kiln, I can at least control the flames - and I'm hoping, by extension, the act of creation itself. I'm the one person here capable of doing that without fear of getting burned so I believe it is worth the attempt."

Nasira took a deep breath, steeling herself for the task before her. A flame and a catalyst... do I not need to have anything else inside when I start the flames, then? Will it provide itself the material for creating life on its own? Unsure of the process, Nasira took a moment before picking up a corpse and placing it into the Kiln. And then another, and another, until she had dropped in five corpses in total. If the Kiln did need materials placed inside it before the act of creation, then this would be a necessary step. She did the same for the dead fish, not knowing if the scales or gills would be a part of her creation otherwise - piles on piles of rotten fish sliding down into the darkness.

"...I'll need a bath after I'm done here," Nasira muttered to herself as the tattoos on her arm glowed bright orange, the djinn peering into the darkness of the kiln from the cleared opening. Even with the flames lighting her arm Nasira could not make out the distance to the bottom, the only sign of it being the slowly fading embers left alive in the abyss. I can create stakes to climb up along the side of the wall, or have Caitlin pull me up with her newfound tentacles. I'll be fine, she reassured herself before glancing back at Val and Sword. "...I'm going in. Besides me, please be ready for whatever may come out."

And with that, Nasira hoisted herself down into the darkness, one hand still clinging to the entry as she righted herself and planted her feet against the Kiln's interior wall. Nodding to herself, Nasira let go and pressed up against the chamber wall, using the friction to control her momentum. Down, down, further down she went, until the glow of her tattoos revealed an ash grey surface beneath her; quickly her body dissipated into smoke, hitting the ground and dispersing out before recollecting into a singular, solid Nasira once more. Her inner flame traced embers all along Nasira's body, dimly lighting her surroundings - a barren place of ash and corpses - both those she had tossed in and those too incomplete to leave the Kiln. Is it really death if they didn't have the strength to live? Nasira wondered to herself, wandering towards the center where the last embers lay.

Sitting cross legged next to the dying flame, Nasira held up her left arm, radiating with the heat of a flame just beneath the surface. First, a fire. Was blood a necessary component to utilizing the Kiln, or was it just the catalyst for creating human(-like) people for the First Mate? Of that she wasn't sure, but Nasira wanted the process to be as complete as possible. From her smoke Nasira produced a needle in her right hand, holding her left above the embers before pricking the very tip of her finger with needle's end. A droplet of blood gathered at her fingertip, radiant with the djinn's fire she channeled through it, pressing it to the ember... and igniting.

First, fire... and blood. Nasira traced a circular trail within the growing flames before planting her palm in the center, feeding the Kiln's fire with her own, growing and growing until it became a flaming pillar from base to the very top of the chamber. The fire raged with the strength of an inferno but kept inside the column, Nasira keeping a tight control on its size and shape. For the catalyst, Nasira took a fish from the piles of fish she had dropped before, one that was more intact than its rotting brethren with its scales shimmering against the dancing light. A catalyst of fish for a seaward people, she thought as she tossed it into the flames.

The flames undulated and brightened as if in acceptance of the offering, and Nasira closed her eyes in contemplation. Fire, blood, a catalyst... and what else? Nasira set her palms against the center of the flaming pillar, trying to imagine what people might emerge from the Kiln. In her mind she imagined a race of aquatics, much like those that lived in Panthalassa's depths. She imagined them swimming freely in the ocean, unbounded by the pull of gravity, skimming along the surface of the shallows or exploring the abyss that lurked at sea's bottom. She saw them dash within the water with all the speed, grace, and lethality of a hawk diving from the sky to snatch its prey. An agility to evade any giant in the depths of the ocean, sharp blade-like fins to swiftly strike back, all with an elegance that belied their deadly strength.

But of course, she did not envision them as helpless on land. On the contrary, Nasira saw them as fierce warriors even on land - they would need to be strong, after all, to face the dangers of a Pretender. Could their fins still serve as weapons even on the surface? Perhaps... if they were augmented by a flame close to her own. With an inner fire like that of a djinn, they would swim with a speed matching those of the fastest sailboats, without being at the mercy of the winds.

With each new thought the pillar pulsed, twisted, flickered in consideration as though the flames themselves had a life to them. But Nasira's doubts still remained. Would they help her? Follow her? Worship her? Serve her? Nasira would not ask that of them but she was still afraid - afraid of becoming like the tyrants she had hoped to escape, to defy. What would she ask of them, then? And how would they respond? There was no way to know - she could only pray that the flames understood.

And so, she prayed.

People of my creation, born of my flames. Into this fire I offer you my strength, my desire, my hopes for our future. Alongside I offer my weakness, my doubts, my fears - I offer my all so you may become a true and free race, unshackled from your creator to live the lives you choose. May you be proud as to not suffer any injustice. May you be humble as to find common ground with others. May you be kind as to aid one another and those who suffer.

I ask not for slaves for that pain I know all too well. I ask not for followers for I hope you will carve your own paths. I ask not for worship - though I aid in your creation, though I seek the path to godhood, I do not see myself as above you or anyone. What I ask for is allies - brothers and sisters in arms to defy the tyrants of this Shard that keep us bound here - Contenders and new life alike. That is all I ask - I will not push you to do more.

Please... will you aid us?

Poppy Blake

Poppy stumbled closer to the flames and gingerly sat herself down beside it, warming herself carefully so that the foliage climbing up her side would not catch a spark and light her up. That would be bad. She began to look in better spirits as soon as she saw the others and gave a small, timid wave to them as they reunited. She cocked her head up at Revache as she described herself as a storyteller. That was good. Then all those men on the boat who had fought could be remembered. Momento mori, but nobody truly died if they were not forgotten.

"We flew in from a ship that got beseiged by the Pretender," she began to explain. "I—well, I wouldn't want to spoil that part of the story. The crew are still out there, fighting. I helped, a little. There was another Contender there, too. He helped us escape, and stayed behind with the men on the ship to fight off the Daemons. Foul things. But Revache could probably tell the story better. It's all...scrambled in my head at the moment."

Edited by JumpingFruit on Dec 19th 2021 at 12:17:41 PM

Captain Holloway

“Oh, that's lovely...” Caitlin muttered in a pleased tone as the fire was ignited, and she soon shuffled up closer to it before settling into a reclining position. She wished she still had her fur cloak; a corset hardly did much for warmth after all. “At least we're not short of firestarters in our little group! It'll go a long way, surely...”

As Poppy explained her side of the story, Caitlin pursed her lips and looked pensively off to the side, trying to hide the fact that she felt the urge to comfort the girl. She wasn't exactly familiar with doing that. She supposed Revache would be a good enough presence, since she was closer.

“...they sound like noble men, after all. Or at least some. Staying to fight on an undoubtedly wrecked ship? I've a respect for that, and I'm glad at least one had the chivalry to get you two out of there. Even if he was technically a rival. I'd say remember them for that last moment of courage, rather than their misdeeds. It'll be easier on the mind.”

So another Contender; unaffiliated. Will he return, and will he be a problem? I certainly hope not.

“You've both had a horrible time, so take whatever fleeting moments we have as rest. Remember we're in a party of a fair number too. We can defend our own,” she said in a kind tone, mostly in regards to Poppy but seeming to nod also towards Revache in inclusion. “You've made it alive this far, so consider it a victory.”

Edited by Enirboreh on Dec 17th 2021 at 10:43:01 AM

Masaru

With the fire set up at last, Masaru set himself down near it, sitting in a serene position of resting on his knees, rear firmly planted on his feet beneath him. The proper posture for one of his station. When the sound of flapping reached his ears, however, he was instantly alert, hand rushing to the hilt of Genkaen in anticipation of Urzael's return. But he relaxed slightly when it was revealed to be a Dragonblooded, and then released the blade entirely when he saw their mysterious arrival had Poppy in her arms.

"Many thanks for returning Poppy to us, Revache of the Dagone clan. I am Shu Masaru, of Nenmonchi. With Poppy here, it seems everyone is finally accounted for."

And so some of the others sat around the fire as well, and Masaru still felt a coldness inside, mostly staying quiet as they spoke amongst themselves. This was the distance he preferred. Arm's length. As much of a help as they'd been, Masaru was not a man that was prone to trusting. There would perhaps be a time where they would bury knives in his back, or he would have to bury his own in theirs, and it was the unprepared man who often found himself choking on his own blood from a hug. This whole ordeal was a game, to achieve even higher power, and Masaru intended to win. There was nobody to be trusted here, not yet, lest he find himself betrayed and used as a stepping stone or taken advantage of. And he especially didn't trust the newcomer, Revache. It seemed far too unlikely that some strange Dragonblooded would just show up with Poppy in tow. Masaru had overestimated the sincerity of kindness before.

Nobody makes a fool out of me again. Not in Nenmonchi, and certainly not here.

But it would be unbecoming to treat them with hostility, so as Caitlin spoke, he put on a small smile.

"Indeed, it is a most fortuitous blessing that we have all survived to this point. If we had anything to drink, I would propose a toast to our luck and to our continued success. Although there is still that nagging issue of another Contender, and the hanging threat of that Ember Knight, I'm sure we will prevail."

The Lone Wharf

The fire was crackling lazily, providing some comfort and warmth. The first golden burst of the flames slowly made way to a more familiar orange colour, which occasionally hissed whenever some slightly wet wood was tossed into it.

While there was currently no food to be had, it certainly provided a safe haven that was sorely needed. Now, with no big revelation or crisis abound, each one of the heroes could feel the exhaustion of the last few hours bearing down on them. Most of them at least, as Masaru's undead nature meant that physical wear and tear meant little for him. He wasn't the only exception, although Sword herself may not have noticed yet the absence of any sluggishness in her limbs.

As everyone settled down, something was nudging it way out of Poppy's clothes. The little sea-bunny, with its black and white, wet fur, was poking its head out, having hidden away in the girls pockets at some point. Its nose was quivering with curiosity and it looked up Poppy, squeaking audibly as it announced its little hunger.

Looking around, it slid out of her pockets, falling down onto the floor with a wet splat and rolling onto its belly, before crawling around to explore this new strange enviroment and the even more strange people around it.

Then suddenly a wave of hot air rushed through the tunnels and the whole wharf was drenched in red, golden light. The sound of a roaring fire thundered echoed through the cavern and an audible, primal chant suffused everything. The sky began to darken outside and the sea itself calmed, until it resembled black glass.

A shudder went down everyones spine and every hair stood on edge. A sensation of power held their breath, as if the whole world had stopped in its track this very moment.

A miracle was happening.

Orphan's Folly

Sword and Val watched Nasira climb onto the Kiln and then slowly lowering herself into the hole on top. For the djinn it was at first disorienting. The dimensions did not match. The Kiln from the outside was barely bigger than her and yet, when she entered its dark belly, it seemed like she had dropped into a large cave. The ground barely visible and the walls nothing more than darkness, intermingled with fading starlight.

The air was thick and old. This whole place felt ancient and, for the lack of a better word, powerful. Mortals did not tread here. It was for the first time she could feel that this was a place meant for Gods.

As she hit the ground, a cloud of ash was thrown up. Her feet sunk into what was several inches of accumulated dust and ash. It felt warm to the touch, as if the Kiln had been used just recently, even though it had been dormant for a long time. A few feet ahead of her, in the center, was a small indenture in which a few embers still glowed. Holding onto life just barely. Nasira approached it, taking her place. Tracing a circle of blood around it, she reached out with her hand and held it over the embers. Then....she prayed.

Suddenly the whole Kiln began to glow. Val and Sword could see cracks forming on its outer shell, as heat began to build up inside of it. Tongues of flames began to lick out of the top and front and the heat rose rapidly. The filth of decades, if not centuries, began to break off and the air itself ran thick.

Then, it burst open.

A shockwave ran through the room and out of the tunnel, as fire shot out of the Kiln and high up into the air. A loud crack could be heard, as it shattered the ceiling. A pillar of fire rose up into the sky, which had turned pitchblack, drenching the entire island in bright, golden light.

The roar was deafening. The heat permeated everything, making ones skin prickle like old paper. And then came the voices. Barely audible at first, but then growing stronger and stronger. A primal chant, spoken by hundreds, thousands of disembodied people, singing in a language none could understand, safe Nasira. A chorus that bellowed canticles, that made the sea itself go silent. Not a song or a chant, one would eventually realize, no.

A prayer.

Nasira was engulfed in fire, yet it did not hurt her. Power flowed out of her hands, seemingly uncontrolled, as the Kiln around her began to come to life. The glimmering stars that had almost vanished in the darkness, began to gleam ever brighter. The ash underneath her feet whirled upwards, like a storm of sand. She was lifted up, as the ritual reached its crescendo, rising up out of the Kiln.

Within the fire, before her eyes, was a child. Cradling itself, it was surrounded by rings of fire and blood. Its frame so eerily similar to that of Nasira, with long, elegant limbs. Sail-like fins grew out from its hips and feet, like the skirt of a dress, while it gained bladelike growths along its elbows and lower arms. Its face of an aching beauty, fragile, but deadly. A luminescent, flowing veil bloomed from its head, descending down her back. Her skin shimmering from pale white to golden-hued red, pulsating with an inner fire.

The child grew rapidly. Its strength increasing, as Nasira herself grew weaker and weaker. The fire flowed into her as she rose up, blooming like a flower, in front of her creator. Her face close to Nasira, until they almost touched. Then she opened her eyes, gleaming with an iridiscent red light.

And with that, the fire died down, receding back into the Kiln, which glowed now like hot iron. Nasira and the Firstborn both floated down and touching down onto the warm stone. The woman stood there for a brief second, before slowly sinking down to her knees and blinking, as if she just awakened from a dream.

She looked up to Nasira, with her big, warm eyes and tilted her head quizzically.

"Who am I...Mother?"

Edited by TheNohen on Dec 18th 2021 at 8:35:28 PM

The flames of the Kiln, no longer her own, drew from Nasira the power it needed to perform its ritual of creation, more strength from her than she had anticipated. Still, she continued her prayers as the Kiln's magic lifted her from its strange depths, carrying her back outside its deceptively simplistic shell. Brought before the front of the Kiln Nasira now stood with her creation, her daughter, her Firstborn, the shadowy cavern walls once hidden in darkness now bathed in a warm, orange light.

Nasira drew in a deep breath to gather her strength and calm herself after unbridled power of the ritual. There was much to process for both her and her daughter, and she needed to take a moment to collect her thoughts.

"Who am I...?" A complicated question, one she had asked herself countless times before. One with an answer Nasira was still searching for. Smiling gently, Nasira pressed her forehead against her daughter's, answering her question the best she could.

"You are... many things. Most importantly, you are you, something I hope you learn to define and decide for yourself. But I won't leave you nameless and aimless in this world - that would be far too cruel. I will guide you as best I can... Aisha."

Nasira turned towards Val and Sword - stumbling a bit before catching herself. "I-I think the Kiln drew on my vitality, so I'm a bit exhausted. I don't think the effects will be permanent, but for the moment I need to rest... Could someone explain to the others what just happened? If they don't come running because of the signal fire first..."

Edited by Starbound2 on Jan 6th 2022 at 11:54:56 AM

Val

For a few awkward moments, Val stood there with Sword, staring at Nasira and waiting for something to happen.

And then something did.

BOOM!

"GAH!" Val fell backward onto his butt, staring at the burning Kiln in open-mouthed shock. "Uh, Nasira, is everything okay?!" Probably not, since the Kiln had basically just exploded, but he wanted to be sure!

The Shard rumbled and shook as the Kiln blazed with flame, the air itself seeming to hum with magic. So this is what miracles are like. Huh. Val got the feeling he should be a bit more impressed.

And then...

"...congratulations on motherhood!" Val cheered, after an awkward silence following Nasira's naming of the Firstborn. "So...what now?"

Poppy Blake

"Ah!" Poppy exclaimed as the ground shook and the sky rumbled, for lack of a better description. She ran over to the sea bunny and picked it up, cradling it in her arms like a protective older sister, even though her own frail body could not and would not serve as an effective shield in the face of danger. "What's going on? Is it the Pretender? Has it found us!?"

As the signs of calamity died down, however, Poppy also began to calm a little bit. She heard the sounds of familiar voices conversing in the distance, and went to investigate, the sea bunny now carried within the folds of her apron, which she'd pulled up and tucked into her belt. The Kiln hummed with the energy of fresh, new life, though Poppy didn't know how she knew that. She marveled at Nasira's new creation, though she was still confused by how it came to be.

"What happened?" she asked everyone present. "Is everyone alright? There was rumbling...I was afraid that the Pretender had found us. And Miss—" She was now speaking to the fish-girl. "—Are you cold? Here, take my cloak!" Poppy then unclasped and offered up her plain woolen cloak, warmed and dried from the fire earlier.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Dec 29th 2021 at 11:35:12 AM

Captain Holloway

“Bloody abyss—!” Caitlin grunted as the ground trembled and the sky darkened angrily, shielding her eyes from the momentary flash from where the Kiln was situated before grimacing and getting up onto her feet. “Let's hope that wasn't just their cooking...”

Heading over towards the Kiln, she peeked inside before gasping slightly as she spotted the new figure standing in front of Nasira, and she quickly stepped towards them in a somewhat shocked state. She'd gone pale as a ghost, looking the Kiln's creation up and down thoroughly before nervously laughing and glancing towards Nasira.

“...it's... w-well it's remarkably familiar, I'd say! You didn't... have a particular inspiration, did you? Because I know of a particular breed of Man that's... very similar to this new daughter of yours here...”

Sword nodded to Val again, the sort of comradely awkward nod you gave to coworkers. Even so far from home, just being able to see a fellow criminal was a welcome sight. She didn't really know what to say though. Val had clearly had a hell of a day too.

So after a whole day of dreary, cold and gray bullshit only broken up by the Ember Knight, Sword practically fell on her ass when the Kiln exploded with power. This was what she was talking about! Guess Nasira wasn't nearly as afraid of her power as Sword thought! Such power it was too. The part of Sword that looked for exits and checked people for weapons had her adjust Nasira's position on her power rankings, just in case she needed to clear out the competition. Just in case.

"That is what I'm talking about!" Sword said, clapping her hands in congratulation. "Marvelous. You mean to do this or what, like, were you in control, or have you just been feeling it out?"

Revache

"...so there we were, deep in the middle of a sunken heap when a rotting sack of meat came lumbering towards us, raising their blood-soaked cleaver in the pale moonlight, peeking through a narrow slit overhead. You could see it in his blurry, bloodshot eyes. A relentless, sickening bloodlust. One that could only be sated by the taste of flesh on his dead carmelized lips. And perhaps he'd have his way with us too while he was at it. Why, if it hadn't been for my sheer presence..."

It was in the middle of Revache's retelling of events that she became painfully of her surroundings. And that she had suddenly lost her audience. "...oh, come on now! I was getting to the best part! Well, one of them at any rate..." Sure, perhaps she had... embellished things a bit, but it wasn't enough to turn them away in disgust, was it?

As she looked up, she breathed a small sigh of relief, only to be filled with dreadful curiosity. Her dwindling audience wasn't her fault, but that was a small comfort. Even if she had been upstaged by whatever this thing was supposed to be...

"Fascinating! I can't say I've ever seen such a creature before, though they do possess a certain charm." She listened to everyone as they walked up to the creature in turn, their comments and remarks painting a most curious picture.

"But from what I can ascertain, it appears that someone's been playing God. Not that any of us can talk, but there's a host of potential implications and ramifications that I'm not sure you considered. Though I suppose the first question should be how you did all this in the first place. Something to do with a kiln, perchance...?"

The Kiln

Sword felt a jolt of anger she thought she'd gotten over after she'd found the rest of the crew. Guess she needed to rearrange the list again. Nasira might've had that lust for power that made her a threat, but the newbie was practicing something even worse: alleged 'moderation.' Up till now what she loved about this crew was that none of them were talking about stuff like 'hubris' or 'overreach' or any of the other shit that was in other stories she had no intention inscribing into their new mythology. Just a bunch of raggedy bastards who knew what they were here for.

"Hey, who invited the tattletale?" She asked forcefully, wheeling around on her heel to size up the larger dragon-creature. Revache, right? Revache. Not someone descended from her and Masaru's regional dragons, that was for sure. "My apologies, we clearly should've consulted someone who was experienced at this whole God Thing." She scoffed and made a jerking motion with her hand. "Fuck outta here, trying to drag my girl Nasira down on the one good thing that's happened here."

Revache

"Oh please, get over yourself. I'm no more experienced with Godhod than you are, or than she was five minutes ago. All I'm asking is if she considered the potential consequences before giving birth to their new creation. Not even the theological implications, which are many, but the practical ones as well. What does this creature know? Will it be able to take care of itself once we're gone? Is it capable of acting independently, or will it be dependent on us for its every want and need? What impact or consequences will they have on the world around them? So and so forth. If I had been the one giving birth to our little friend, I'd expect you to ask the same things of me, so don't act as though I'm singling her out."

She was impressed at the oni's sense of loyalty. She'd only met these two just now, but she could tell they had been through a lot together. Who was she to come bursting and casting judgement? But even so, perhaps what they needed was a fresh set of eyes. Unclouded and free from such things.

"All I'm saying is we could stand to be more careful from here on out. Perhaps you don't care to know the stories of old, but I live and breath them. And without careful consideration, such acts of creation tend to end in little more than tears. I say this not to belittle or demean you, but out of respect. If we wish to be better than the Gods old, then we must take these things into account. Or else risk following in their footsteps."

The Kiln

Sword rolled her eyes and let the lecture just sort of wash over her. Words words words, damn, the lady'd actually prepared for this hadn't she? All that research into the stories, whatever. It was like godhood was, to her, and end in itself, as opposed to Sword's read on everyone else—almost all of them people who were trying to fix their world, and look out for them and theirs, not really paying attention to their legacy, or how they were working within someone else's legacy. Shit, Sword was pretty sure there'd never been a God that was shooting for the domains she was.

"We'll figure it out as we go. Only thing I need to know is how to keep my people safe. My crew." They were definitely at the level of crew right now, to Sword, and maybe family later down the line. She sighed and shook her head. "There's caution, and then there's that fuckin' laundry list of concerns you've got. I'm from The Guilds, newbie, and I dunno if you've heard of us but we wouldna gotten anywhere if we debated and agonized over every move we made. What are you by comparison, some kind of scholar? A monk? Was ascending the thrones even your choice? Because that little speech you had sounds like the sort of speech you get coached on, not one you actually believe in. Now, tell me I'm wrong and I'll work through the mistake, same as we may or may not be doing with Nasira's kid."

Revache

"I was coached on many things, but aspiring to Godhood wasn't one of them. That was my choice and mine alone, and not one I take lightly. There are too many stories of Gods felled by their own hubris, or of damning the lands under their care for their own amusement. All I wish is to my help my people achieve prosperity and to correct their mistakes. And if you know anything about Dragonbloods, you'd know there are too many to mention."

Revache was never one to judge a book by its cover, but this... oni? That was it, wasn't it? This brash, outspoken oni was already rubbing her the wrong way. It seemed like she punched first and asked questions later, which was the total opposite to how she did things. Maybe she was wrong, but she hadn't done much to change her opinion.

"For centuries, we've remained apart from the rest of the world, sticking our heads underground and refusing to see the bigger picture. And the result was eternal stagnation. The rest of the world continues to move on, but we're the same as we started. And while some nation and cultures have held on in the wake of the world's destruction, ours are in a considerably more dire state, largely because of our refusal to cooperate with anyone else."

She took another glance at the oni. Covered in scars of gold, wearing little more than some bandages and a loose jacket above the waist. It was actually rather appealing. She was always a fan of natural beauty and bling, and she seemed to have both in spades. If only she had a better personality to go with it.

"I wish to change that. To give my people and others true prosperity so that they may come together as one. For if they don't, then an even greater collapse is inevitable, without the aid of an unnatural cataclysm to help it along. In that respect, Godhead is a means to an end. But if we're going to do it, than we'd better do it right. If we had to trumpet to the heavens or sell flowers in the streets, I'd insist on the same principle. All I ask is that we put proper thought and care into something so delicate, if that makes any sense to you."

Edited by kkhohoho on Jan 5th 2022 at 2:42:32 PM

Nasira gave Val a quizzical look not dissimilar to the one Aisha gave her. She took a moment to think of a response but drew a blank, giving him a simple "...t-thank you...?" back. As for the "what now," that was a discussion to be had with the group...

...who came filing in, no doubt drawn by the explosion that erupted from the Kiln. Seeing Poppy, even nervous and panicked as she was, made Nasira smile, graciously taking the cloak and wrapping it around Aisha for warmth and modesty. "Thank you, Poppy. I'm glad to see you well. As for what happened-"

Nasira's soft-spoken response to Poppy was interrupted, an argument breaking out between Sword and a person she didn't recognize - judging by other's responses, she must've arrived and introduced herself fairly recently, possibly or probably alongside Poppy as despite the clash of opinions there was a certain lack of wariness between her and the others. As the two of them exchanged heated words, Nasira set down a blanket before sitting on the stony ground, resting what stamina had been taken from her from the Kiln as she listened to the both of them.

Detecting a brief respite in the conversation, Nasira spoke. "...I have thought about those questions you've asked before I lit the Kiln, and both throughout and after the process of creation. I guided and fueled the Kiln but rather than total control, it felt more like... an unspoken dialogue between me and the flames. The outpouring of ideas, thoughts, and emotions to create a mold or template from which the Kiln concretized and birthed Aisha, a new living being.

"Speaking practically, I did base her image on what I knew of the oceanfolk of Panthalassa, keeping both strength and agility in mind when I imagined her form. Many of us nearly drowned when we first entered the Shard, and if we were caught in a battle out at sea we'd be vulnerable in the water against those better suited for it. Val, Cait, do you remember the massive hand that crashed the boats on the shoreline soon after we arrived? We didn't see the rest of its body; it was likely submerged in this Shard's ocean and if that's the case it has the advantage against us in that environs.

"From piecing things together, we know that the undead in this Shard weren't resurrected but rather created by the First Mate' to serve as crew for the Admiral. If they were born with no knowledge at all they wouldn't be able to act as sailors, so the Kiln must have bestowed some knowledge to them - knowledge to move their bodies, speak, think, deliberate, and hold superstitions. I don't know if their gaps of knowledge were due to the Kiln being weak or the First Mate treating the process haphazardly, but I wanted Aisha to have as complete a picture of the world as I could provide her, as much as the Kiln would allow - so those were among the thoughts and wishes I fed to the flame.

"As for the ethics and philosophy... I've mulled over those questions and speaking honestly, I don't have a definitive answer on the morality of my actions. I may have been too presumptuous, too short-sighted in creating you, Aisha, and for that I am sorry. I'm not sure which of my thoughts may have reached you and which had not, but I poured my doubts and uncertainties into the process as well, so you might know and not see me as perfect, as someone who has all the answers for you. I neither have all the answers for myself so I have no right to force any answer onto you - that is why the words I gifted you were a prayer and not a command. I don't know how much you have a choice, but I sincerely hope you do, Aisha, and I hope you choose to answer my prayer."

Kiln of the Firstborn

The new being called Aisha watched as the group all began to file into the small room and arguments, praises and conversation filled the limited space. She seemed to be rather absentminded, as she raised her hand and began to examine her fingers. Then she slowly rose up, the cloth that had been given to her falling off her shoulders without her caring for it. One could feel heat emanating from her body and her pale skin slowly changing into reddish golden hue, like an inner light filling her from within. Waves of luminescence flowed over her veil, as she slowly let her gaze wander over the present Pretenders.

She quickly passed over Val, Poppy and Sword, paying little more attention than brief curiosity over their appearance. Then she stepped over to Revache, resting a hand on the Dragonbloodeds chest without saying a word or asking for permission. Her finger glowed red from the touch and she quickly made an elegant step back, rubbing her fingertips as if she had burned herself. Then she turned to Nasira and moved in closer, wrapping her into a hug. A gesture of affection, Nasira feeling a deep and calming warmth emanating from her "child".

Finally, she turned to Caitlin, her expression determined and serene in equal measure. "I was born with a purpose twofold, to lead and to live to prevail. And while I do not know what evil holds this place I shall call home, I can feel its presence." She held a hand close to her bosom, where a pulsing light coud be seen. "This world lacks the warmth of life. I do not know if I can heal it, but I will try. For the sake of my Mother and my yet unborn people. I am Aisha, the Firstborn of the Nesiree. And shall you need my aid, Lady of Waves and Terror, you will have it."

Aisha the Firstborn then bowed her head towards Caitlin, with a hint of trepidation in her silky voice. She notably avoided looking the pirate-queen in the eyes and her inner glow turned noticably pale in front of her. As she turned back to Nasira, her inner warmth returned. "I feel you fear and I feel the same, Mother. But I swear by the Inner Light I will relieve your burden and prove worthy of your efforts."

Then her serene mask cracked a bit and she bit her lower lip. "At least...I hope I will...", she confessed, looking down on her fingers. "But I do not know how. The Vessel imparted me with knowledge of violence and wisdom, but I feel lost. I ought to know this land, but yet it seems strange and hostile. And to it all...I am ashamed to say..."

An audible grumble could be heard and Aisha awkwardly placed a hand on her stomach. Her face glowed in a deep red colours. "...I feel a weakness in me..."

The Lone Wharf

The fire crackled, its warmth and light bringing a hint of coziness to the otherwise rather desolate cavern. The sky only slowly returned to its former colour, but it was clear now that night was approaching. While almost everyone was at the Kiln, admiring Nasira's creation or discussing how to move forward, Masaru had stayed behind.

He was not alone for long, though, as he heard shuffling steps coming towards him. A look revealed a familiar hooded figure slowly approaching the campfire. The Old Woman sighed in relief as she slowly sat down and put her gnarly walking staff to the side. Her visage veiled in shadow as usual, she stretched out her thin, spindly fingers towards the fire to warm herself.

"Quite a day, isn't it?", she noted. Again that strange and terrible grin split the darkness of her cowl, the only hint of her face. "Made new enemies, new allies....and treaded new paths. In such a short amount of time, it is almost impressive."

She gestured towards the tunnel, where Masaru and Sword had found the corpse. "This place has seen so many terrors and so much death...it is good to see some life return. A good omen, among a sea of curses..." She chuckled, as if she had somehow made a good joke.

"I do hope you don't mind if I rest my old bones here for the night. Perhaps I will even make it worth your while..."

She didn' look up as the one-armed Bloated stumbled into the Wharf, his body covered in soot and the remnants of the explosion, which had left him significantly less unharmed than the others. "Bloody magic and bloody kiln. Honestly, half of mind to just go and piss o—"

He stopped short, as he spotted the Old Woman. His already pale face gotten even more slack and white, as a shiver of dread washed over him. "O-Oi, wh-what are ya—"

"You will stay, Bonefinger Doran.", she simply stated and pointed with a single finger next to the fire. "Your assistance is needed for things to play out properly. Be so kind and keep playing the role you so inelegantly stumbled into."

Again she faintly chuckled and Bonefinger Doran openly shivered. It was evident he wanted to go away, wanted to flee to...somewhere. But instead, with visible unease he stepped towards the fire and sat down, with hanging shoulders and a whining mumble over his loose lips.

Edited by TheNohen on Jan 7th 2022 at 8:56:26 PM

Poppy Blake

"Oh! Don't worry! That's just hunger. I'll check around and forage for some food," Poppy said, nodding. "Maybe you could follow along and learn how to survive. Being able to find food and drinkable water in the wild could spell the difference between life and death..."

Poppy would turn to ask if anyone else wanted to follow along before departing to forage for edibles. This was a dangerous island after all, but as soon as Aisha was strengthened, they all had a better chance of surviving.

Edited by JumpingFruit on Jan 10th 2022 at 4:27:14 AM