Dungeon Keepers: the Stranger World

Long had Outremar dwelt under the illusion of peace and prosperity. Then we, the Keepers, returned in glory and destruction to the world where we divided it between us to murder and demolish, pillage and pleasure on a whim. 

Then came the Four. The Four Horsemen of the apocalypse -Conquest, War, Famine, and Death- came to Outremar and brought with them purpose. They found us, united most of us, and asked us the ultimate question: why steal from, kill, or rule the world when you can end it instead? And end it we did. After the final battle was fought against the foolish Antikeepers still trying to save the world in vain, the seventh seal was broken and the world crumbled around us. We thought we would die along with it, but the Horsemen knew better. They offered us a new chance, and we took it.

And here we are! On the planet you call Earth. This place is not so different from Outremar: lots of humans. A little more advanced, perhaps, in the year they call 1818...but they will crush just as easily beneath our heels. If the Four made it here, it was not to guide us. We will carve our own fate. 

Earth is ours! 

Basis: 

As one may have guessed, this roleplay is not focusing on being the ‘good guys’ of the roleplay. Rather, you are the evil overlord you have always been trying to beat(in other, more archetypal stories) during the course of the roleplay. The world we have now has known war, yes...war amongst humans. They call the most recent the Napoleonic wars. 
Easy pickings, huh? They may know which way to hold a musket but they haven't believed in magic since the Enlightenment and they would never imagine Keepers in their wildest nightmares. They won't be pushovers, no...we'll have a challenge, especially since we're stuck less than optimal avatars, like human bodies, for the time being. They certainly won't want to venture into our Dungeons, though. 

Your real problem, after establishing yourself, lies with your fellow Keepers, as we are not an easy bunch to take down. 

Index: 
1. Dungeons 
1.1 Dungeon Construction & Basics 
1.2 Dungeon Heart 
1.3 Dungeon Rooms. 
2. Keepers 
2.1 Avatars 
2.2 Death 
3. Creatures 
3.1 Blueprints & Basics 
3.2 Constructs 
3.3 Rogue Constructs 
4. The World 
4.1 Geography 
4.2 Resistance 
4.3 NPCs 
4.4 Some history 
5. Conclusion 
5.1 Credits 
5.2 Starting 

1. Dungeons 

1.1 Dungeon Construction & Basics 

Dungeons are essentially our bases of operation. Without them, you'd basically be more overpowered mages or warriors than demigods with huge armies. Dungeons can be castles, tunnels, heck even a floating fortress. The larger the Dungeon, the more powerful the Keeper. Imps are the only ones who can construct your dungeon. This is why, for example, a Dungeon Keeper would attack his/her fellow Keepers. They could assimilate their siblings' Dungeons and become even more powerful. Dungeons are customizable, however there is one structure which must be present in all Dungeons. The Dungeon Heart. 

1.2 Dungeon Heart 

We are sustained by the first creation we make, the Dungeon Heart. Now, the Heart is our sanctum sanctorum – here’s where we should be if we’re not out killing peasants or spawning our Legion of Evil. You see, while you’re resting in the Heart you can do loads of things – you can expand your conscious mind to your entire dungeon, letting you see everything that’s going on within it at once (your magical powers get downgraded slightly, as they’re being used to keep an eye on everything, but this lets you rain down death upon invaders everywhere); you can directly give orders to your beings all over the dungeon, such as telling them to mass here to prepare to attack the Keeper next-door, and, most importantly, you can create new Creatures. Once you have a heart, you can begin fashioning an avatar worthy of a conqueror and get cracking. Until then, you might do well to lay low.

1.3 Dungeon Rooms 

Our dungeons have virtually limitless different types of rooms to be made and utilized. Each new one built increases your power and strength. There are many different types. Below are the ones that are the basic things every fully operational dungeon would want, but do be creative. Boring is as boring does. 
1. Dungeon heart, explained above 
2.Portal (Or spawning) chamber, here you will build your means to create your minions(you have to have the blueprints for them first). 
3. Treasure room, here you store all your goodies and gold. You pile your wealth up here. 
4. Lair, the barracks for your creatures to rest in bigger lairs means you can have bigger creatures. Additionally, weapons and gear are kept here. 
5. Training room, where as the name implies your monsters or soldiers can grow stronger under a vigorous training routine. Or you can just use magic or steroids. Your choice. 
6. A library, to store all of your evil knowledge and research ancient tomes to find new spells in 
7. Prison, to keep your various enemies and, er, overactive minions 
8. Torture chambers, to get information and entertainment at the same time 
9. Laboratories for experimenting, whether it be unimagined magics, alchemy, or other such lovlies. 
10. Command centers, slightly less dangerous than having your heart as your headquarters. Additonally, these function as communication and surveillance centers. Scrying is quite the lost art, so a reliable method of knowing what the hell is happening to my castle lieutenant Douglas you squirming piece of worm crap is of paramount importance. 
11. Industry! Since the industrial revolution, a whole new world of automation awaits you should you choose to wander down that path. This includes a basic foundry for weapons and gear. 
12. A mess hall or some other such way to sustain your minions. An army marches on its stomach. 
13. A Channel. Since magic isn't exactly flowing from the seams on Earth, we'll need to build it up ourselves or pull it in from somewhere else, and for that you need a channel of some variety. We'll all start out with a little magic to utilize, but if we decide to really invest in the arcane arts, we'll need some way to amass the energy. Examples of channels would be elaborate thaumaturgical contraptions, some sort of otherworldly tree that gives off energy, and a mooncatcher that draws mystical power from Earth's orbital itself.

2. Keepers 

2.1 Avatars 

Keepers are demigods in an interesting way. They (allegedly) have immortal souls, as in they will always be conscious. However, their bodies can be destroyed and manipulated by magical and physical means. This means that Keepers can take on the form of whatever they choose, as long as they have the power to do so. This physical shell is called an 'Avatar'. If you wish, you can forfeit certain things for others – you could ditch your magic in order to become the Keeper equivalent of the Hulk, or lose all your considerable physical prowess to become ultra-magical. We all have the misfortune of starting off as a human or worse this time around. 

As the game goes on, and your domain gets bigger, your Keeper’s Avatar can change. For instance, when your domain gets big enough your avatar could be a fifty feet tall, fire-breathing daemon with a huge axe in one hand. Do be aware of your limitations, however: in Outremar many keepers possessed innate telepathy, some teleportation or flight, and other such trite. No such convenience on this world unless we set our mind to it. Originality makes me happy. Now, as to why your Keeper exists in this form: when Outremar was destroyed, the parallel dimension known simply as the void that served as the dreamlike limbo for unsummoned Keepers was fractured along with it. The void shifted and opened up into Outremar, which led to two chief events: the apocalypse was quickened, and the souls of the Keepers within the void were scrambled and sent tumbling through the portal. In this weakened state, our souls latched onto whatever we could find on Earth, be it human, beast, object, or legend.

2.2 Death 

Your creatures become a disorganized rabble. Your Constructs, if you have them, may be able to keep them under control, but creatures are normally weak-willed things that will be terrified out of their wits that their master and maker has just been defeated. 

Assuming you manage to beat back the enemy who just managed to put a serious dent in your operations, then you’ll want to try and resurrect yourself ASAP. A Dungeon without a Keeper is a gilded invitation to your foes saying “Dear Keepers, come here and kill me once and for all”. The first step towards doing that is rebuilding your Heart. After that it’s the standard resurrection sequence, in which you spend a couple of pages with your minions trying to get you back. During that time your dungeon is crippled – you can’t get new creatures, can’t fight off any invaders with magic, and everyone else will probably be swarming to finish you off. Not. Good. 

When you’re resurrected, you’ll likely be rather peeved. So stay in that heart, and start giving ‘em payback – remember, they can’t fight back very effectively against your realm itself. Creatures, yes. The very walls and floor, not likely. 

If you don’t manage to beat the enemy off, then this is even worse than having everyone swarming to defeat you. Your creatures will all be dead, your forces slain, and your dungeon probably absorbed into the enemies, making him doubly strong. Now, in the spirits of keeping this going as long as possible, you can always say that a few imps managed to run away – they can summon you back to life after a while, just I’d suggest that it’s very, very far away from your old home. After that, again, it’s up to you – I’d suggest building up in secrecy. 

3. Creatures 

3.1 Blueprints & Basics 

The first type of creature you get is the lowly imp, which can be a real imp or a human disciple (If the latter is the case, you'll need some way to coerce those humans—they're not too terribly an agreeable bunch) Genuine imps are magical constructs from an era long before our own – long before Cormumag’s, the father of the keepers, first age of evil even – they are the heart and soul of our operations. They’d rather spend a long evening in the torture chamber than fight, and can run far better than they can battle, but they have their uses. 

They’re our first creatures, and they’re the only ones that can dig and build. Without imps, we’d be unable to do anything. If we didn’t have imps, regardless of their cowardliness, then we wouldn’t be able to dig out new segments of our dungeons. Without them, we wouldn’t be able to build buildings above ground. Without the lowly imp, you wouldn’t be able to install the devices that will harvest magical energy or resources from the land. In short, they get everything simple done for you. They’ll also fight to the death to protect your Heart if they must, since imps need a master and abhor not having one. They’re worthless fighters, often having only a pickaxe and a sack to fend off attackers with, and no armor at all, but they’ll still do fight if backed into a corner. 

Now, just having imps could be a bit boring. After your Dungeon Heart is completed, you can go wild with your creatures. You make ‘em. The process is quite simple – you go into the Dungeon Heart, you invent what you want to create – let’s say an ogre, not imaginative but it’ll do – and then you start creating the blueprint for it. 

Now, this is where you got to be careful. You get interrupted while making the blueprint then things go bad. This means you can’t try and organize a defense for your base if it comes under attack, you can’t rain down death from the heavens, you can’t do anything. Your life, and the safety of your base, rests firmly with your existing creatures. All your avatar’s attention is focused on the creation of a new blueprint – someone kicking open the door of the Heart will be enough to break his concentration, and everything goes pear-shaped. In short, your avatar, the Heart and a large chunk of your dungeon explodes from misdirected magical energy. If the thing you were making survives, somehow, it will be malformed and probably not going to last more than two minutes on its own, so best to put it out of its misery. Just throw it at the enemy, since if they got this far you need all the help you can get provided the enemy survived as well. 

We’ll be using a thing called the Fibonacci Sequence, starting with number three, for creature creation. Just type it in on Google if you don’t know what it is – basically, your first creature takes two posts to create, the next one three, the next one five, eight, thirteen and so on. Not your posts, someone elses' – so if you start making your first creature, you can’t spam two posts to get it straight off. They’ve all got to be everyone elses' posts. 

Your creatures don’t increase in power as your dungeon expands – they stay just as you have created for evermore, and your first creature has to be something fairly weak. As your dungeon expands, you can create more complicated creatures and, if you so wish, destroy the weaker ones to reduce the amount of time it’ll take you to make a new one. Just, you have to destroy the old ones first before you make the new ones – no distractions or things go boom, remember? 

Please note, magic isn’t just limited to you. Your creatures can have magic too, just theirs is far, far weaker than yours is. After all, they’re just creatures, shaped by our will – we’re the demigods around here. For instance, they can’t view the whole realm (Not that we can on this blasted rock), or create entirely new creatures no matter how strong they become. 

Once you’ve created the blueprint, then more of the creatures are far easier to create. A Portal is the usual reagent for this, but feel free to use another method of increasing your numbers. Portals are a sort of magical repository which can create new creatures for you after the initial blueprint for them is completed. Extremely minor changes to an individual cast of minion is easy enough to do, whether it be a physical change in, say, pigmentation or a replacement of swords with spears as standard weapon. Any serious modification, however, requires an upgrade. Upgrades take the same amount of other peoples' posts to complete as the creature (that is being upgraded) took to create as a blueprint. Luckily, this process doesn't incapacitate you, though. 

3.2 Constructs 

Think of Constructs as the link between you and the rest of your normal creatures – they’re the halfway point. They share the same basics as normal creatures – same look and natural weaponry – but they’re overall better. Their skin is tougher, their brains far more developed, their magical prowess greater… They’re normal creatures on steroids. This comes at a cost, however – they take time to make as well, and your Avatar has to do it him/herself. For example, let’s say you wanted to make a Construct of your first creature. This would take your avatar another three posts, following the exact same laws as the creation of the creature blueprint. The avatar can’t be interrupted, of course, so do be careful. Once completed, a Construct acts as a sort of general, able to organize your forces into more than just a rabble of raiders – What was at first a crumbling defense can pull itself together and win the day if a Construct shows up. Your own presence on the battlefield has an even greater impact on your creatures, inspiring them to commit greater acts of service. With a Construct leading them, rather than just killing everything in their way during the next peasant raid your forces will actually take the time to take prisoners and thoroughly check the place over for hidden loot or undiscovered foes before they leave. After all, you can’t very well lead your forces in a common raid, you’re far too busy managing your dungeon or fighting the Keeper next door 

If a Construct is in the area, you can use him as a sort of conduit for your will – won’t be able to stand up to another avatar, but it’s still handy. This will allow you to lash out at any enemy who dares get close to your direct servant, so long as you are in the Dungeon Heart at the time. If you’re outside of the Heart, then you’re a bit too busy being in your own body, and thus won’t be able to spare the time and concentration to project yourself through the Construct’s. Keep in mind that this feat does not give you total telepathy with your minions, just commands with the Constructs if you're inclined to magic. You create Constructs from an existing creature and they don’t count as blueprints, so if you want to make a Construct ASAP then do it with your second creature. As one can imagine, Constructs can be fairly useful. You may only have one for each type of creature. 

.3 Rogue Constructs 

After the wars thousands of years ago, some constructs fled their dungeon when their Keepers we're destroyed or imprisoned. They have been hiding ever since, and now that Keepers have risen, may even return. Anyone who doesn't want to be a Keeper can be a Rogue Construct, but should quickly find a master or risk death by the hands of one. 

At least, that was on Outremar. On Earth, there aren't really any vestiges of bygone rune wars. Just your occasional superhero, mutant, or evil genius. Who knows, though? You might run into Santa Claus or Nessie and recruit them. 

4. The World 

4.1 Outremar 



In the distant past, the continent of Outremar was a gigantic shield volcano that gently sloped downward into the great Panmundus Ocean. The volcano had been dormant long before men found their way to Outremar as it‘s magma filled interior drained and hollowed out. In more recent antiquity however, a terrible earthquake shook the great volcano to it’s core. The earthquake caused much of the inland region of the Outremar volcano to collapse and fall into the deep hollow center, forming a huge caldera. The earthquake tore chasms and valleys through the continent all the way to the Panmundus Ocean, allowing a great flood of seawater to pour into the caldera, creating the atoll of Outremar as we know it today, this is why the shoreline of the sea in the middle of the atoll, the Basthis Sea, is made up of jagged, sheer cliff faces while the outer shore is gentle and mostly consists of sandy beaches. 

Outremar’s climate is quite warm. Moist ocean winds blow from the east, drenching the eastern slopes of Outremar in drain and coating it with jungle, and in the case of the great eastern cape and the cape islands, a forest of giant, bio-luminescent mushrooms and other fungi. On the northern and southern slopes of the great atoll of Outremar, the rain forest makes way for verdant grassland, nicked with ravines and chasms and studded with small stands of palm trees and other jungle-esque growth. To the west, the grasslands become dry savannah grasslands, as the moist winds from the west are depleted of water. On the far western slopes, the deserts and dune ergs can be found, where the coastal sand mixes with black sand from volcanic rock to form a distinct grayish sand. 

Now that you know all that, forget it. We're on earth now, you silly sausage. Think 1800s. Europe is the focal point of the world and has influences in Africa and Asia. America's got its independence but hasn't had it for very long. So on and so forth. Take High School history or something. 

4.2 Resistance 

The various civilizations you will encounter in this time period do actually pose a significant threat to any would-be overlord. Britain commands its fearsome navy, France retains military strength despite its recent defeat, and the Russian and Prussian armies are no laughing matter. Any nation you might try to conquer will resist, but the European and Asian ones will be the hardest nuts to crack. Better to try for the Balkan nations or the Germanic states—they haven't had their unification yet. Better still, move beyond Europe to colonial Central America, Africa, Australia, or the United States of America. Mind you, the Americans won't be a pushover either, and if your chosen area isn't a nation or part of one it might very well have irritable natives. Of course, Keepers do need their slaves, and the trade is in full gear at this time. Your enemies will pack guns, from cannon to musket, refined and ready for war since the industrial revolution. Tactics are fairly sound and the soldiers well-trained. 

4.3 NPCs 

Feel free to create NPC people, organizations, corporations, towns, whatever. Just make sure you don't create anything that is excessive in the fields of technology, magic or sheer physical power. By now I expect you've grasped our setting and what it entails. So no flying purple dragons, sadly. By the way, I do fully intend for us to change history, so as long as you have a general idea of what's going on at the time, go for it. Nothing extremely major, though unless you know your stuff. 

4.4 Some history 

Long ago after Outremar collapsed, men colonized it. However an ancient evil created at the beginning of the world and locked in the shield volcano emerged. Cormumag created the first dungeon on an island in the middle of the atoll. He created evil as we know it, he spawned the first keepers, his children. His dungeon was the largest we know of. His armies spanned miles and his constructs were numerous. He created a great black fleet called the shadow navy that invaded first the jungles of the east reducing many parts of it to wastelands(which later grew back up) and then ordered his armies westward in the north and the south conquering many of the grassland kingdoms. In the Savannah of the west and the great deserts he enslaved whole peoples. He was only stopped when an angelic race, the antithesis of the keepers, arrived on Outremar and bested him, chaining him to his own island, above his now destroyed dungeon. His children crept to the edges of society to lurk and breed. His armies were tossed aside as childrens' playthings and the first age of evil ended. 

The second age of evil was led by his children who were now powerful and with many descendants. They set up dungeons everywhere and no angels arrived to stop them. Soon however a new breed of hero brought their downfall, the adventurer. He dared to head into their dungeons with small forces to sabotage their operations while they were away. Through this it was discovered how to kill a keeper and many were destroyed. It is said that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse effectively began in this age and first tried to end the world, but failed so catastrophically that the notion is barely a rumor nowadays. Only three of Cormumag's children survived this age. The keepers left and sailed to the isle of their father. 

The third age of evil was the last one for a while. The grandchildren of Cormumag led this along with two of his surviving sons. They rained death from the skies in their new tactic. Keepers literally fell from the heavens(from the dark magic cloud bases of the keepers) to build their dungeons and terrorize the country side. These new sky bases stopped the method of destroying the last wave of keepers. The clouds could not be touched by the pitiful humans. Cormumag's island had begun to sink and soon his chains rusted and his power grew again. His descendants who had lived on his island for the millennium between the second and third age had unknowingly helped to weaken his bonds and give him strength. He broke free and began rampaging about Outremar. However he was stopped when his three children were tempted by a human hero to usurp their father. They tried to do so and were killed. The grandchildren who led the war did not escape his wrath either and were decimated, in the process destroying their shadow cloud bases. Cormumag had effectively reduced the keeper population and the remainder were banished or fled to shadow realms to be summoned at a later date. Cormumag stood as the last threat to mankind and lords from all of Outremer banded together and marched their armies against Cormumag. They attacked him ravenously and stole his heart which he had incorporated into himself, making his body his own dungeon. They destroyed it and Cormumag was no more. But he may yet return through some unknown means, in fact it is common keeper belief that at the end of days Cormumag will march from the mother dungeon below the earth with all dead keepers to conquer Outremar in the final battle. 

The Fourth age of evil was one of havoc. A new devotee, the humble imp, pioneered the art of summoning Keepers back from their various prisons or dimensions. More Keepers than ever before appeared on Outremar, causing great tragedies and destruction. Their names ring throughout legends: The Being of the Void (Known to the later civilizations as Effigia, which is Immaterial), Avak Iascor the First Rage, the twins Zorthax and Sladway, which are also known as the Atra Gemini, Reidan the Heavy-handed, and many others who are lost to time. The mentioned Keepers met on a plain in two alliances: Avak and Reidan versus the Being and the twins. In the end, Avak, on the brink of death, destroyed himself in an immense explosion that also took out the other Keepers. Reidan alone had escaped, who sensed that his time had come to leave Outremar. The war was called the Battle of Five Armies, and the plain was called Vastatio, which is Devastation. 

From chaos and oblivion arose a new generation of Keepers in the Fifth Age. Doviculous rose from shadows. Detuiron, a mere human, traveled here from the distant future to find he had the power to shape the world. Shral'nok the ancient one stirred in his sandy crypts. Reidan returned to Outremar only to find his position as keeper of the earth usurped by the stone giant Gorsik. Two tempestuous twins of ice and water claimed their birthrights. Strangers like Irifiers returned from bygone eras and new beings like Dark Thorn were born and unleashed. Finally, the quiet spectre called Escre found its way back to the continent from the land of the dead. 

For a time all was normal, but things began to go awry when the various keepers found themselves in possession of a number of symbol stones. Three new entities appeared on Outremar at about this time by the names of Dormammu, Aeternam, and Moros. As time wore on, the new arrivals turned out to be none other than the Horsemen of Conquest, War, and Famine. Escre revealed itself as Death, and the Four began traveling across Outremar seeking the symbol stones and the service of the keepers who possessed them. Those who yielded the potential power in the stones to the Horsemen became the fearsome Harbingers, while those who defied the inevitable were marked as enemies. The master plan of the Horsemen was to use the stones to construct the Iocinor, a self-aware orb of power destined to drain the power of Cormumag, who somehow lived still, bound beneath an island in the center of the inner sea. Just when all was fun and games, however, the Antikeepers appeared on Outremar once more. The angelic beings, the most prominent among whom were Zadok, Arial, Sophist, and the phantasmagorical Weaver, has a simple mission: to stop the Keepers and save the world. 

The final hour of Outremar began on the island at the inner sea's center. The Horsemen succeeded in stealing Cormumag's power and soul, thus finally killing him, before the Antikeepers arrived and disrupted the ritual. Some of the power was released in the ensuing struggle, sending the island in pieces high into the air where it hung like the mobile of a babe. There the final battle over the Iocinor was fought between the Harbingers, defiant Keepers, and the Antikeepers while armies of humans and the knightly Vindicator order valiantly battled the hordes of the Keepers far below. Severe casualties were sustained on both sides but it ultimately resulted in a stalemate—until, that is, Zadok called a meteor from the heavens that utterly decimated the battlefield and all who fought upon it. The Iocinor was sent flying into the air as the Weaver readied its last-ditch assault: it sought to sever the threads that constituted everything in the hopes of destroying the Harbingers forever. 

The threads, however, had other plans. They reacted against the Weaver, condemning it and breaking it until nothing was left but the Ripper, a hateful and destructive entity that ultimately shattered the last seal of the apocalypse that lay within the Iocinor, thus dooming Outremar. 

At the last moment, the Horsemen created an unstable portal to another world and offered an invitation to all who had survived the battle: die here with Outremar or take your chances through the portal elsewhere. Those who entered found themselves somewhere new and very strange: Earth. 

5. Conclusion 

5.1 Credits 

Credits to Senger Drol/Tri for the original version of this, GrandEnder for the second version, and Prospo for the next one. 

5.1 Rules 

You know the rules. And I'm so confident of that that I won't even bother telling you. A bit of a warning, though: do stuff that rubs me the wrong way and bad things can happen to your character. Persist with said rubbing and you might find yourself banned and your character brutally killed. I reserve the right to deny anyone everything, but I will endeavor not to. 

5.3 Compendium 

I will be endeavoring to keep a record of all Keepers, their appearance and domain (theme over which they preside, like fire or swamps), and brief descriptions of their dungeons and creatures. I find that such records are incredibly helpful whenever two players start interacting. You yourself will be supplying these snippets of information by appending them to the end of your post right next to the obligatory status update. Just a few words will do. If you elect not to do this, you don't get logged in the compendium and it's that much harder to get things done around here. 

5.4 Starting 

No character sheets are needed, just make a descriptive entry post about your Keeper's humble beginning on Earth.

A steady stream of noise was the first thing Uekaru became aware of. He still could not see, and the noise was next to impossible to discern. Too feeble at the moment to be frustrated, he attempted to breath in for the first time (it had indeed been a while since he last had a physical form, but he dimly recalled their basic demands), only to discover that he could not. Instead, what he presumed was water rushed into his lungs, filling him with agony. A wave of fear washed over him—would he die now, just on the verge of life anew? No, he decided with what little conscious thought remained to him as he struggled for air. Feeling his already-weak strength ebb from him with every second, Uekaru flailed around with numb limbs. He didn't realize he had hit something and pushed off of it until he began to roll across the slightly-inclined ground. A second later, his brief tumble ended as his torso impacted a hard surface. With a single, violent movement the water erupted from his lungs and spilled out through his mouth. Uekaru hacked and rolled onto his stomach, spewing liquid onto the ground. The knowledge of how to operate his limbs came institutionally, despite the Keeper's best attempts in ages past to dominate his instincts. Slowly his vision and hearing cleared, and the being could finally see where he was.

Eager to understand his situation, he raised his head to look about but was struck by the brightness. It hurt his eyes; they could not stay open. The morning sun added pain to his confusion and withdrawal. He had spent so long in the void, a dreamlike realm of nothing, especially light. Gradually his eyes adjusted and he looked out at his surroundings. The world was green and lush, filled with various plants. One of them was the surface that had effectively saved his life by jarring the water from his lungs. Memory from his past life returned to him gradually: tree, stone, earth, air. Cherry blossoms, ferns, pines, and even a weeping willow by the lake that Uekaru supposed he had pulled himself out of. He also identified the source of the noise: a waterfall, not very large but still sizable, that cascaded from a fifty-foot cliff about two hundred feet away. As he watched the sunlight filter through the spray at its top, he beheld something unusual. There were a few figures upon the ridge, watching intently, standing next to some sort of structure. Confused as to what they might be looking at, Uekaru looked down at himself before recoiling in shock. He had a human's body, wearing boiled leather leggings but nothing else. It was well-built but bald. Still stunned, Uekaru's gaze drifted back to the people atop the ridge. They hadn't moved. He tried his voice, to talk to them, but he barely managed a croak. On his second attempt he succeeded in shouting, the words of the common language of Outremar returning to him as he spoke. “What...is this place? Who are you?”

The humans upon the cliff shouted back in another tongue. Uekaru couldn't yet comprehend it, but he knew the men could be of use to him anyway. After a few cautious steps spent getting used to walking in a human body, he strode to the cliff face. Climbing was a skill he had not been forced to employ for some time, but the talent had never left him. The feel of the stone against his skin helped the flesh remember how to manipulate it. Sometime later he crested the cliff, slightly damp from the waterfall's spray, and found the men there waiting. One pulled him to his feet while the other frowned. Uekaru noticed too late that both held some form of projectile weapons, and one of them had just leveled theirs at his chest. If the man were to fire, Uekaru would be sent flying off the cliff to the ground below...though he would likely and mercifully be dead before impact. While contemplating this and ignoring the soldiers' commands, his eyes drifted to a scabbard on the aggressive man's belt. A sword. That was all he needed. Despite his recent near-drowning, Uekaru moved with lightening speed. He darted to the side, grinning dryly as the musket shot whizzed by him, and then barreled forward. With one fluid motion he crashed into the first man, slid the blade from the scabbard, and buried it in his belly. By this time the second man had aimed his weapon, so Uekaru shoved the hilt of the buried sword forward and positioned himself behind the dying man, so that his comrade's bullet finished him off. Finally, Uekaru raised a leg and kicked the corpse off the blade with surprising force, which smashed into the second man. He stumbled nearer to the cliff edge and dropped his musket, waving his arms to keep himself from falling. Uekaru approached him and cut him down. As the man screamed, Uekaru nudged him and sent him off into the empty air.

He then breathed deeply, calming his battle nerves. He had barely been conscious of his deadly feat, having relied -again- on his instincts. They supported him when his mind, which still swam from sudden induction into Earth, could not. With practiced efficiency he removed the scabbard, clothes, and gear from the remaining cadaver and put it on. “Hopefully the rest of this world will be that easy. Now, where can I find some imps...?”


-=-=-
Location: Western China.
Forces: 0
Resources: Nothing
Progress: No project

Compendium: Uekaru – A deadly and ancient warlord in the body of a mere human. Wields soldier's Yanmaodao sword and soldier's musket.

All was dark beneath the starless, stormy sky. The occasional lightning strike illuminated the sky, but little light pierced the rainforest's thick canopy. As Jin'zul's conscience began to ebb back, the Keeper felt something horrible well up in his black heart - fear. Had he failed to make it through the wormhole? Was he still cursed to walk Outremar as a forlorn ghost, his once dreaded name so forgotten and his power so void that not even the imps could bring him back?

After some time, Jin'zul began to fear this was so. As his fear turned to rage and his wrath eventually subsided, the Keeper began to ease himself back into a state of dreaming, of thoughtless wandering. But suddenly, Jin'zul realized something. Some strange sense had been activated the whole time. The feeling was odd, for he had felt nothing like it since he was alive. The revelation quickly came; this strange sensation was sound, the sound of rain falling on something far above.

Long lost memories of what living had been like rushed back to Jin'zul. He tried to move, to do something, and found that after a few tries he was able to stand up. Nothing could describe the exuberance that the Keeper felt now; after centuries of being a powerless spirit, he now felt like a god. From what Jin'zul could tell, he had been laying face-up in a shallow pool of water.

Despite his efforts to see, to sense his surroundings, the darkness shrouded this new world. But Jin'zul did not fear the darkness; in life he had commanded it, and in death he had become one with it. In time, he would master the Aspects of Shadow, Soul, Blood, and Smoke once more, and be feared once more. But right then, the Keeper felt powerless; this new realm, whatever it was, had magic of a different sort than that of Outremar.

Jin'zul began slowly shambling forward. Something snagged at his new physical form, bringing back the feeling of pain, something the Keeper had oddly grown to miss as much as his other senses. After a few seconds, the warlock crashed into something more solid, and clumsy as he currently was, fell backwards.

The Keeper stood back up and felt what he had walked into, and the things that had just snagged him. For all his efforts, Jin'zul could not recognize what he felt, for he had been dead far too long and no longer remembered the feel of many things.

The ancient warlock walked around the obstacle and continued to travel. The darkness made him fall many times and he heard all sorts of strange noises in the distance, noises that would make this world's humans tremble, but Jin'zul paid them no heed. Seemingly sensing his lack of fear, the things making the noises ignored him as well. After some time, the Keeper finally stumbled out into a clearing of some sort, and a flash of blindingly bright light illuminated the world for a moment, while thunder shook it.

In that moment, Jin'zul's eyes took in every detail of his surroundings. He was standing on the edge of an incredibly dense jungle, with tree trunks and thick vegetation being the things that he had fought his way through in the dark. Suddenly feeling exhaustion, the Keeper lied down and rested. When he awoke, the thunderstorm was gone, and he saw lights in the distance.

Jin'zul eagerly moved to investigate, and as he grew closer, he saw that the lights came from torches. Two humans were walking down a path, staring warily at the nearby jungle. It was still darkness, so they never saw Jin'zul until his shadowy form appeared right before them.



Location: Near eastern coast of modern-day Brazil, on the edge of the Amazon Rainforest.
Forces:0
Resources: Nothing
Progress: No project

The Hell?

Carmine Rega's Eyes opend. He saw only flames , A thought went to carmine's mind. Oh luckly I am in the abys.

But the that thought quickly went away as Carmine Began to get hot. Carmine Opened his eyes to see shards of blue sky patst the Flames. Carmine than saw he was not in the abys but in the sky, Falling fast.

Carmine quickly tried to grow wings to slow down. But nothing happend , even worse he got hotter and hotter.

He tried to raise his hands to see. To see his daemonic armor acting as his skin. But as he raised them he only felt an cold armor pressed against his arms.

Carmine Rega looked up . But he saw the ground so he quickly noted he was upside down. He quick spread his body out as He crashed in a kind of desert.

Everything goes black for carmine Rega for a time.

Some time later

Carmine Opens his eyes. His body hurts as he tries to move. He notices an layer of fabric laying on him.
He looks around , only to see he is in a wooden room with some paintings of humans. He seems to be in a bed.

A door opens and from it steps an Human drawing a monical in a fancy suit.

He speaks to carmine rega "Hello there fellow or whatever you are. I hope you know that when you fell from the sky in a burning fireball you interupted my tea time."

Carmine Looked up to the human "Who are you and wht the hell is tea?"

The man chuckled " I am Lord Frederick , I was doing research aboutthe Nazca lines when you suddenly fell from the sky. Tell me , are you insane or something greater."

Carmine with a grin on his face said "I am more than you imagine Human. Now tell me , On wich world am I ?"

The Man put his monicale of and said "Your on planet earth if you mean that. I have answered your questions. Now tell me who or what are you and why are you here."

Carmine Sat straight as he answered " I am Carmine Rega. A child of Commeragh, A daemon. Creator and ruler of the Golden Abys and a watcher of the end of a world."

The Man said "You are joking good sire aren't you? If your really a daemon why do you look like a human as you so coldy put it"

Carmine's Temper came up but he calmed down as an tought came through his head and he chukkled.
"You seem as a smart and educated man. I am not the only one here, The matter in fact this world is now in the center. Soon other Daemons , keepers of evil shall arrive on this world. They will build up their strength untill they get their full might back. This world is strange and I lost my powers from it.
From its lack of magic. But I promise you. What you will be offered will none of the others offer.

If you aid me reganing my power by simply supplying me with humans for souls so I can reopen the portal to my abys. I will regain power and draw forth my daemonic might from thousands of souls and armies of daemons shall overrun the land. I offer you the chance to survive and become a king in your own right. Will you make a deal with a daemon or be killed by another daemon?"

The Gentleman reached out his hand to carmine Rega to shake and Carmine Shoock the hand. The gentleman said "Long live King Frederick of America."

Deep in the frozen forests of Canada, a tall, skinny man awoke. He wore thick skins, which a local might recognize as coming from elk, but that he merely knew as warm, and he appeared quite young, though that was merely a deception of his form. In truth, he was a centuries old keeper, and he was already plotting a means to return his power.

He looked around, before testing his muscles, one after the other. Satisfied he was in working order, he stretched, and started walking north. He felt the biting cold, gnawing on his flesh, but he knew that other keepers would gravitate to warmer climes, bringing with them chaos and fires to make the world in their vision of perfection, a perverted recreation of the abyss.

He hated the abyss.

With time, and through careful scavenging to keep his belly full and his body warm, he came to the end of the forests, and found a great and desolate frozen waste.

He looked out over the land and smiled. This would be the start of his great empire.

A small spark

A few days since the conversation

Carmine Had put his armor back on. First he had to adapt to the hanging limb between his legs.
His armor was different , still red and daemoni looking. But just not daemonic.

Luckly Carmine had the ke yingrediant for his rise. He had withhim his daemonic sword. It had lost its power but it could still be used for soul absortion.

While Frederick made some preperations Carmine inquired more questions. Learning Frederick was an English kind of searching old stuff profession or whatever the name of it was.

Your english when yo ucome from a piece of land called England acros the sea in a place called Europe. And he was in a palce called america. He was in a mansion near the supposed nazca lines.

Somekind of stones lines made by an people who were almost all killed long enfough. But he landed in the Nazca Lines.

Carmine had refreshed himself as he went to a special prepared room where Frederick was waiting with an mexican man tied up to an stone table.

Frederick spoke " Here I got a man for you to show your 'magic'."

Carmine froned and said "What do you mean with that!?"

Frederick responded "As far As I know your mentaly retarded. So I have man here for you. You may do whatever your planning to do and than show me proof of your power."

Carmine Drew out his sword " Do not wory your investment will not go wasted."

The mexican man began speaking some language he didin't understand as Carmine Came closer.
Carmine didin't realy care about what he said. While compeltly human he has some trouble running , sleeping , standing and more in complete metal armor completely nude.

He raised his sword and it came down straight Throuhg The heart of the Emprisoned man.

The Mexican man let ou an scream and than was silent. Frederick was enticed as a white fog came out of the man's mouth and flew towards Carmines body.

The moment quickly passed and Frederick asked "Did it work do you have your powers back?"

Carmine Turned to Frederick and removed his helmet. "No you fool, one measly human soul cannot restore an keepers power. But I can do this now."

Carmine pointed his finger towards the body of the dead mexican and let out a very small fireball wich hit the leg. And the body started to burn.

Carmine spoke aloud "I have shown what I am and what I will become. Now fulfill your part of the deal. Bring me Human souls and I will make you a King!"

Consciousness faded into existence and... however he was... began to sense the world. His mind was swimming, but before he could put it back into order more urgent senses told him that his mind was not the only thing swimming. The dreamlike blurring of sight and hearing which he had been perceiving was not caused by being in a dream state, but because he was underwater. A burning pain began to radiate from his chest and a direct instinct told him to swim up. Despite never having remembered learning the art he managed to swim to the surface with a great amount of skill.

Now that drowning was no longer a threat, he could focus on some pressing questions which normally come to mind when you've woken up after being blacked out and can't remember a thing. Who am I? Where am I? What happened?

His mind grasped at threads of memory, but he could remember almost nothing about a prior life. He managed to recollect that he was a Keeper, and the memories which came with that. However, he did not remember what kind of Keeper. In fact, all that he could remember about his personal history was plummeting through a realm of twisted light and extreme agony.

However, new memories dawned on him. He somehow felt that these memories did not quite seem to be his, or even real, but this was what he is now. The memories were fragmented, but he could gain a vague idea. He had been a being which lived on the bottom of the sea. Dead sailors were his responsibility. He had to make sure that their deaths were dealt with properly. He had become a myth and legend to the humans who sailed the sea. There was something to do with a locker too, although it appeared more metaphorical than anything. Then there was sailing. Along with this new identity came new knowledge. In his mind he possessed incredible nautical knowledge and wisdom. He also knew his way around weather and sea life very well.

But something was up with this identity. The being in his head was a legend and, at least in some respects, immortal. The Keeper of his past had been incredibly powerful and partially god-like. His body, however, was a mortal, pathetic human.

As he floated on his back, rising and falling with the waves, he spotted on the horizon a boat. In this state, he could not survive in the ocean forever, so he began to swim towards the vessel. As he swam, he needed to think of how he would introduce himself. He needed a name.

His reforged memory was eager to impart this knowledge on him. His name was Davy Jones.

However, as he swam, he realised that introducing himself as a legend of the seas to a bunch of sailors while in the body of a mortal was probably a very bad idea. He settled on the name Dave until his full power could be released. Dave Johnson. As he swam closer he devised a story. His ship had been attacked by pirates and he was forced overboard. The name of his ship? That would be a hard part. Naming the ship would cause it to be mentioned in port. Once it was discovered that such a ship never existed, or did not do what had been predicted, his story would begin to fail and suspicion would be aroused. Eventually he gave in and decided to name the ship, say it was small, and simply jump port before they figured out he had been lying. The Swanston, a small merchant vessel. It'll do, especially as he didn't know where he was.

Meanwhile the ship had spotted the swimmer and turned to intercept it. Dave's swimming was interrupted by a hail from the deck on the now-near ship. "Oi!"

Dave stopped swimming and realigned himself to be upright. "Hello!" he shouted back. He realised that his voice was a bit deep with a Devon accent.

"We're going to pick you up!"

A rope ladder descended from the deck as the ship passed beside Dave. Grabbing on, he climbed up and onto the ship. Somehow being in the presence of humans made him feel uneasy, as if he was in danger. The crew, however, seemed rather non-threatening for the moment.

"Here, have some of this. You must have been through a lot today," one of the sailors said, passing him a bottle of rum. Dave drank a generous mouthful of it and passed it back.

"We'll get you some grub to eat," another one said, leading him down. He was safe for now, at least. He still had to sort out his identity crisis, but he now had plenty of time.


Keeper: Davy Jones. Maritime legend in a healthy human body.

Jin'zul strode out onto the road in pursuit of the men with the torch. The Keeper, even in the form of a human, moved eerily silent and swift. When moving he was but a blur, not unlike a puff of smoke floating in the wind, but when still he was near invisible. So when the warlock stood on the road, a mere ten paces from the duo, they continued walking forward and muttering to each other in some unrecognizable language, oblivious to the strange figure in front of them until they practically stepped on his toes.

The instant the first man's torch revealed Jin'zul and they recognized him as another human, the two men jumped in surprise. The torch slipped out of the first man's hand as he scurried backward in fear. The second was made of sterner stuff, for his first reaction was to pull out a pistol from a holster on his belt and take aim at the stranger, who hadn't moved an inch.

Jin'zul looked at the strange weapon pointed at him, and then at the man who was cowering a few steps behind the one with the gun. As the armed man opened his mouth to shout something, the Keeper moved forward with astounding speed. The man must have expected an attack, for he fired his gun, but Jin'zul had stopped to bend down and pick up the torch blazing on the ground before the bullet struck his arm.

The warlock, feeling no pain, held the torch and looked upon his body in light for the first time. His form was not as he remembered it being. In fact, he looked just like the two wretched humans standing before him, although his skin was ebony while theirs was pale, and he wore only a loincloth. The Keeper's eyes slowly wandered towards where the bullet had entered his arm. Blood oozed from the hole, glowing red in the torchlight, but there was no expression of pain, or even anger on Jin'zul's face.

The two men only stared at the stranger, their faces showing a mix of terror, confusion, and disbelief. A strange man, probably a runaway slave, had appeared in front of them like a shadow, and remained silent and emotionless even when shot. Jin'zul reached one of his bony hands toward the wound. Two fingers with yellowed and uneven fingernails dug down into the hole and pulled out the bullet. The warlock dropped the bloody metal ball onto the gravel road, then dropped the torch.

Once again the shadowy figure surged forward, but this time so fast that the man's pistol missed. In one fluid motion, the Keeper used the claw-like fingernails of his good arm to rip open the man's throat and pick up a jagged rock from the side of the road. Before the man who had been cowering behind could even turn to run, Jin'zul brought the rock down and cracked open the human's skull.

Once more, Jin'zul examined his wound by torchlight. The bullet had only grazed off his skin, and the knowledge that destiny would not allow the warlock's time to come so soon gave him strength enough to ignore the pain. Even in the form of a mere mortal, Jin'zul was strong. He would live another day, but the same could not be said for the two corpses at his feet.

When the sun began to rise not long after Jin'zul's first victory on this realm, the Keeper spotted a nearby cave next to a coast, on the opposite side of the road that he had come from. A little hole in a rock next to the beach was certainly not an ideal spot to build a dungeon, but the warlock could make use of it as a temporary hideout. After dragging the two bodies into the cave, the Keeper searched them. There was little of value besides the firearm, enough food to last a few days, and cooking equipment.

But that was no matter; the two bodies were Jin'zul's real prize. The Keeper gathered damp driftwood, then left it on the warm sand to dry. After a few hours, he prepared a bonfire within the cave. The salt on the wood made the flames burn a sickly green color. After severing the head of the man who hadn't had his face smashed by a rock, Jin'zul melted off his flesh over the flames, coated the skull with blood.

Afterwards, he prepared a circle of stones with the skull in the middle, surrounded by all manner of unholy symbols that the warlock drew on the sandy floor. After a short chant, the macabre ritual was complete, and the man's soul had been extracted from his own corpse. Jin'zul devoured the soul, absorbing much of the man's memories and growing more powerful. It would take some time to sort through and make sense of the sudden flood of memories, but the warlock gradually begin to know the language of the two men, who turned out to have been outlaws, as well as knowledge of this strange new world and the surrounding lands.

Jin'zul had grown unaccustomed to casting magic and performing such rituals, and his pitiful form forced him to rest for a few hours to recover his mental and physical strength. But once that was done, the warlock began work on preparing for another ritual. The Keeper was going to attempt to summon an imp from the infernal depths of whatever hell the little demons came from.




Keeper: Jin'zul, a long forgotten keeper from Outremar who once possessed great magical power, including the ability to use forbidden Black Magick to manipulate the aspects of Soul, Shadow, Smoke, and Blood.
Resources: Two mutilated corpses for use in rituals, enough food to last a few days, and a pistol.
Progress: 0/7 in summoning an imp

Like a chill up one’s spine, the numbness that had seized the Keeper’s mind and body for what seemed to be an ageless duration of time, had crawled and quivered. It was an overwhelming sensation, one that has not rocked his mind since his past life, where he had embodied himself in the misty mountain range in Outremar. Not so wrecked with grief that his home had collapsed in on itself and ceased to exist – Bataar has longed for the ending of days, knowing that fate would not end his legacy so soon. After the ages of numbness that his ethereal coma had enraptured him in, the sudden influx had come at a shock, but instilled much excitement at the expense of disorientation. When had once felt nothing, not even a breeze or chill in the air – or even the tweet of the bird or the pumping of his blood, he felt his skin become assaulted by the warm dry air around him and the shining of a crystalline moon surrounding by its twinkling stars. It took a couple of minutes for it to register to Bataar, that he was, in fact, alive once more.

He first felt the warm, brittle sand that caresses the soft layers of skin at the end of his meaty fingers. His body functions burst into life, having the Keeper take in a deep breathe of the dry air around him. He felt it – from the end of his extremities to the core of his chest – he felt alive. No longer as a non-existent wisp in reality’s fabric, but as a living, breathing god… just as he was once before… but he did feel something else. Something lacking. The flowing magic that was ever-present in Outremar did not embody itself as consistent here, on this foreign soil, where he was conceived once more as human. Bataar moved his fingers, feeling the strength return to his arms. Even after centuries of restless sleep, the memory of moving remained fresh in his mind as if as a spell. The Keeper pushed his hands against the warm brittle dirt and raised his body in the air with the assistance of his knee being planted into the ground. He raised his head that was laced with thick black hair upon his head and a thin layer of stubble layed across his face, his Caucasian skin reddened by the dirt he rested in. It was only know his eyes could truly focus long enough on the environment that surrounded him.

It was not a luscious land he envisioned this new world to be – not a rich, maritime ecosystem. Nor was it a mountain range lined with tropical rainforests and there was certainly no utopia in sight. Bataar found himself engulfed in a sea of red sand and dirt, with a mesa or wind eroded structure of rock planted here and there in the distance. Prickly green vegetables were sparsely sprouted across the wasteland, and the most impressive feature was the massive rift separating one side of the world from the other, with a calm river at the bottom, lined with jagged rocks. There was no sign of civilized life of any form in any direction, and with any luck, the most he’d find was an anthropod.

The place, this wretched desert did provide one thing to him however – nothing material, nothing that could be visible to the naked eye, as it was a resource that existed purely within one’s mind as an ideal: isolation. With isolation, Bataar had the means to develop a new dungeon beyond compare, without worrying about the meddling of other Keepers. A chance to expand and grow, to develop a massive empire that no Keeper could hope to overcome. And that is how he preferred it. But one was sure to notice, yes? He would think of a way to capitalize upon this isolation. And this rift; this canyon so grand may perhaps be the key to providing it him. Taking this into consideration, and dressed in only linen pants, he fearlessly took a step closer towards the rift and looked down towards his target, where lie a small cave of indent in the side of the canyon wall.

Bataar turned around and set his hands on the end of the ground, and stuck his foot in a small hole. Fate wouldn't have him fall - he had far too much purpose here to die here, and he wouldn't let cowardice delay his purpose any longer. He began his trick downward, entrusting his new body's stamina to keep him aloft in the air while he climbed slowly down. As a god, he had little to fear, and he had more than enough energy to run on. It had barely taken him an hour to climb down to an ideal location. He swung his way in, which turned out to be an eight foot deep and ten foot in diameter hole in the wall. Which, with his mind of a scientist, he deducted was where a large boulder was once planted, before it was gradually pried away by the river. He had no time to admire the geography however - had had to make use of every second. He had at least found an ideal location for the means of shelter. He needed something though.

He needs an imp. With his own little touch. Preferably lots of them… and there was no time like the present.


-::|::-

Location: Southwestern United States – Grand Canyon
Forces: 0
Resources: the Grand-fucking-Canyon
Progress: 0/7 in summoning an imp automation (not much difference, just robotic and less annoying; still has flight over fight function for the most part).

Compendium: Bataar – An ancient and innovative technimage taking on the guise of an unassuming human.

The sunlight grew only more powerful as the day drew toward high noon. Uekaru found he could ignore, becoming more accustomed to it. Its heat beat down upon his flesh and the cloth that covered it, but such prospective sensation was welcome to him. He had been walking steadily along the riverbanks for some time now, without a real destination in mind. The myriad foliage had lost its appeal to him and was now nothing more than living -but very destructible- impediments. With every step he was just a little more accustomed to his human form's mechanisms, but its limitations were staggering...even depressing. A hollow, sandy sensation had parched his throat for a good while. Racking his memory once more, he realized suddenly that he was feeling the human liability of thirst, and that he out to turn to the river he trudged alongside and take a drink, perhaps fill some sort of container. Disgusted at himself for this weakness, he approached the water's edge. Rummaging around on his person, he produced the canteen of the man he had slain. At least something was convenient.

He went to scoop it into the river and chanced to see his face, which he somberly stared at for a few moments. Despair began to set in; was he truly human, a weak being on a worthless planet that would die from its own deficiencies within a day? Rage began to mount, but he quickly became aware of his rising temper and becalmed himself. The face in the water's hazel eyes flashed yellow, and relief flooded through him. He was a Keeper.

An hour later he had trekked along the river for a few more miles. Hunger -the ignoble curse- had set in, and he knew he would need to kill and eat soon. Just as pressing a concern was bettering his position; he desperately needed imps and a dungeon. A dim idea of how he could come by his first humble minion had formed in his mind which he planned to put into effect as soon as possible. His new Yanmaodao sword he used to kill its previous owner would serve him in ways no human would have ever dreamed of. Uekaru knew he had an affinity for metal, particularly weapons, and that sorcery could be interwoven with the alloy. Once the sword pulsed with mystical energy, he could cut the very fabric of time and space to open a rip that imps could travel through from whatever quagmire spawned them. Then they could be molded to his content and put to labor. Unfortunately, no inherent magic flowed through Uekaru's veins, so he would need something from humans. With this in mind he strode a couple yards

Speak of the devil! Uekaru's searching gaze found a plume of smoke that had previously been hidden behind a tall, leafy tree. Where there was smoke, there was fire--and unless elemental beings populated Earth, only humans made fire. These humans he couldn't kill, however; Uekaru did boast impressive strength and speed, but until he had forged a worthy avatar he could not challenge the revolting creatures in fair combat. But now, at least, he had a destination.

-=-=-
Location: Western China.
Forces: 0
Resources: A canteen full of water, a Yanmaodao sword, a musket, and two cartridges.
Progress: 0/6 to ensorcle the blade

It was night now and Dave rested on the spare bunk. It was hard but clean. Clean enough, anyway. After satisfying his physical hunger and thirst, he had joined the crew in running the sailing ship. During this time, Dave and the crew chatted and shared information. Upon request, Dave had given his story, being sure to keep it simple and reassuring them that the pirates had gone the other way. Meanwhile, he also asked and listened to the crew.

He had learned that this ship was sailing from Britain to America (which was independent) across the Atlantic Ocean carrying a cargo of various goods. Slave trade in Africa was a roaring maritime business. Ship-building was improving and navies were growing. Dave had subtly analysed maps of the local world, which were in much greater supply than he had expected, searching for a good place to settle for the time-being.

Dave had also visited a mirror to check his form. His build was strong, with muscles defined in his arms, legs and chest. His hair was dark, and unkempt from his earlier swim. His face was unshaven, with short facial hair attempting to grow into a beard and moustache. His skin was tough, yet so far lacked the tan expected in someone who should be working outside a lot. It also lacked scars and other irregularities normal of adults, leading him to believe that this body was definitely new. His clothes were simple. A tan-coloured shirt and pale blue three-quarter shorts.

Now in bed, he could contemplate his plans. His memories of Davy Jones and of Keepers conflicted. He eventually prised from his mind that Keepers were not of this realm but of another. Strangely, two languages were known to him. English was one of them, which he associated with the Davy Jones memories. Another, which he associated with the Keeper memories, was unnamed, at least in his knowledge, but a word came to mind about it.

Outremear.

He guessed it may have been the name of a land to do with the Keepers. However, he still couldn't remember anything about it.

He eventually settled on an at least temporary solution to his identity crisis. Davy Jones would be his personality. Keeper would be his purpose. With that settled, he focused on plans.

As a Keeper, he needed a Dungeon. For that, he needed workers. Either imps or slaves. Slaves shouldn't be too hard to acquire, considering their apparent abundance. He also needed a site for his Dungeon. It had to be quiet, but with access to people, ocean and ships. While Africa would give him some quick slaves, it was not the direction he was heading. Newfoundland looked like a promising site. It had high maritime activity, relatively isolated and trade routes pass the large island. It was under dominion of the British, though, so he'd have to stay quiet lest he call an entire navy upon his lair. And quite importantly, this vessel was going to take a stop in St Johns, the capital of the province, before continuing into the United States of America.

Power was now the remaining concern. Being a Keeper is no good unless he can attain a vast depository of magical energy. He could not sense any free magic in the realm, and even subtle feats like minor telekinesis were currently beyond his capabilities, at least without making a big ritual of it which he dared not do in the presence of the sailors. He needed some way to channel energy.

Something subconsciously clicked in his mind and his hand went for his shirt pocket. He pulled out a small faintly glowing magenta crystal. His memory revealed that it was a remnant from his time as a Keeper. A source of magical power. Excellent. He just needed to remember how to use it effectively.

With his plans all sorted, Dave went to sleep, the waves gently rocking him and the boat.

Look an bird, I aint falling for that

Lord Frederick became almost obsesd with becoming king.

The normaly calm gentlemen but wild , hyper. He used his familiy fortune to buy slaves and hire mercenaries to kidnap people.

Carmine had meanwhile going some trips to the local villages and farms. For some juice.

Frederick had gathered one hundred black slaves and a group of mexican mercenaries.

The black slaves were all tied up ready for Carmine.

Carmine would after 100 humans not be restored to full strength. But the plan was to give carmine enfough power to open a small portal to Carmine's abys. Than his strength would flow back to him and he could start conquering.

Carmine Came in his armor. The Black colored people began to cry and scream as they saw how Carmine was piercing the chests of men , childeren and women.

Even the mercanaries were disgusted by this slaugther. But Frederick only looked as a hundred souls were sucked up by Carmine.

Even Carmines voice became a little bit affected by the souls.

Carmine expplained loud "It is time! I shall reopen the portal to my Abys and this shall result in me leaving this Mortal coil and Become all powerfull again!"

Frederick and his mercenaries looked Carmine got into position right in the center of all The nazca lines.

Carmine began speaking old and dark words. The sky darkened and lightning struck.

And a small vortex opened before Carmine. In it was seen fire , lava , daemons and more.

Slowly a small tentacle of magic made its way towards Carmine. Carmine turned with pride and happiness to Frederick. But Carmine quickly noticed something was wrong , because Frederick pointed behind Carmine, Pale and sweaty.

Carmine Qucikly turned as with horror he saw how everything in his abys started to break down and the trail of magic intensefied.

But it did not go to Carmine but int othe ground!! The Nazca lines began to glow .

Red , blue , green , yellow , purple , violet , orangethe lines flared with color.

The vortex to the abys began getting unstable and exploded. All of Frederick' henchmen and Carmine himself flew back of it.

Carmine was furious but than disbelief hit him. From the Ground rose 8 heart shaped stones , the magic went into the largest one. It began to beat as a heart and from it came a dark Sludge.

First without form but it quickly came togther and shaped half humanoid with an upper body but no legs just a large Tail.

From its upper body came wings made from the same dark sludge as his body. On the formed head a mouth opend to let out an yell. Most of Fredericks mercenaries fell to the ground of pain.

Than 2 eyes are dark as still running blood opend.
Carmine yelled to the formed entity "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY ABYS"

The entity turned towards Carmine Rega. "I am Terrenum , I am a cuidadero. I must thank you , being trapped for thousands of years without a singe of magic."


Carmine Yelled in anger "I don't care what you are. You destroyed my plan and whatever magic survived you have absorbed. Prepare to die!!"

Carmine Ran up to Terrenum raising his sword. Than he jumped up prepared to cleave Terrenum in halve. But Terrenum quickly flew towards Carmine Grabbing him by the throat.


Terrenum spoke to carmine as the black tar flew from his mouth. "Do not wory about your so called abys. I am trapped in the seal you see laying near me. I need power , souls to freemyself more and unleash more of my strength. I am so weak I cannot go far from the seal. But you have souls in you , power and the taste of something once great. Prepare to die.."


Black goo from Terrenum began to wrap around Carmine , Carmine Let one last yell before the goo was absorbed by Terrenum.

The Stone object with BlackStripes on it began to shine as it broke. Terrenum exclaimed "I am Free to build my dark Empire!!"

"First I'll have to get somone to build my corazón to start my Temple Complex." His Gaze Turns to Frederick and his mercenaries .

Terrenum with an laugh said "You will do". He launched a wave of Black goo at the men who try to run.

They get wrapped in the goo and it begins to harden as cocoons. Terrenum Drags the cocoons to some shade.

As he places them the ground lightly shakes as he turns to the other 5 stones with colored lines on them. He seems to speak to the ground "Do Not wory my minions, after these pathetic mortals have been prepared and I have my corazón I shall be powerfull to raise you."


Terrenum rituals
???? 1/3

((Sorry if I'm progressing a bit too fast. I wanted to quickly catch up, so this is the result. If I am progressing too fast, I'll go a bit slower after this post.))

"RAAAAGH!"

Escavar appeared out of thin air and fell onto a stone walkway. His body sizzled with the magic that had just been stripped out of his body. The only trace of magic he has left now was a mark on his arm that glowed slightly red. The good thing was, he still had his sword, his armor, and everything he had when he entered the portal. The bad thing was, he is now a human.

"Damn corrupted portals..." he muttered, right before passing out. A man dragged the seemingly lifeless body that held Escavar's soul to the town hall. There, the mayor (which was nice enough to accept Escavar with open arms) got his own servants to nurse Escavar back to health.
He woke up, his body upright. His body wasn't sizzling anymore, and the mark on his arm was still softly glowing, indicating he somehow had a bit of magic left. He got out of the bunk he was laying in, and put on his armor which had been laying on a dresser next to him. He then sheathed his sword, and walked into the mayor's office. He opened the door, and unsheathed his sword, placing the tip of it at the mayor's chest.

"Tell me, why am I a human?" said Escavar. The mayor responded with "I-I don't know! I've ne-never seen you be-before!" He seemed to be shivering with fear.

"Alright, if you don't want to die, would you mind fetching a few humans? I need to eat their souls to replenish my magic surplus" said Escavar. He lowered his sword.
The mayor simply started laughing. "Seriously, magic? That's children's stuff!" he said. Escavar became angrier and put his sword right at the mayor's chest again. "Either you get me a few humans so I can eat their souls, or I kill you and eat your soul. Once I do that, you won't be coming back as even a lowly Imp". Apparently, Escavar had become much more mean, as he hadn't been like that before.

"Alright, alright! I will!" said the mayor. He called a few citizens into his office, and allowed Escavar to kill them and eat their souls. "More... I want more..." said Escavar. His voice sounded slightly warped after devouring the human's souls.

"Show me your magic, wizard! Then I will bring you more" said the mayor.

"Alright, but it's not much" said Escavar. A small black fireball appeared in Escavar's hand, and he threw it at one of the bodies. It melted into a dark sludge, which once Escavar stepped onto, morphed into part of his body, allowing him to morph the black sludge into what he wanted.

The mayor clapped. "Jolly good show, old chap!" he said. He got a few more humans and let Escavar take their souls before telling him that he should go get some rest.

-=::[]::=-
Location: A small town located in the UK
Forces: 0
Resources: Nothing
Progress: No project
-=::[]::=-

A dark silhouette stood in a forest near a town. If you got closer to it, you could notice that it was wearing a tattered black robe. It wore black scarves which wrapped around it's head, revealing only one eye that glowed red (it was it's right eye by the way). It seems like it has no arms or legs because he's floating and they are not able to be seen, but really, it has them, it just doesn't choose to use them (it prefers floating). This creature has existed from almost the very start. It was first created to guard the realms and make sure that nobody travels between them, but after centuries upon centuries, it has been corrupted. It is the Corrupted Gatekeeper.

Terrenum seeks a mountain


Terrenum lay 2 coocons near every keart stone but only 1 cocoon near the shards of his heart stone. The cocoon of lord Frederick.

After some time on the cocoons appeared a sign.

Cocoons Near the red seal stone got the sign of a spider on their coocon (the form of the nazca lines)

With the blue the sign of the giant, The lizard with the green seal stone. Each heartstone placed an sign on the cocoons.

Orange the huming bird , Yellow the Monkey , purple the Killer whale. violet the Condor.

Terrenum just watched as the cocoons moved , grew , shrinked . It was life for Terrenum , The only thing he knew. The ancient Inca's worshiped him , brining sacrefisches of the Flesh and blood.

The nice memories where he and his immortal Ruled the entire Inca empire. Everday were feasts of souls and blood.

He did not even have to lift a finger. The Human empire which he controlled from the back of the supposed emperor did all that was needed.

But than from the deep parts of the jungle to the north the Mayan Shamans came. They showed the idiots doing our work what they were really doing.

The Massive revolt , the great civil war. Me and my immortals fought at our best , destroying 2/3 of the humans empire before they brought us down.

Even when they did they coulden't kill us. We were just too strong , but they had found another way. Our high priests bearing our marks. Had been given power but they were also captured.

The Shamans sacrefished themself without High priests to make our mark our prison. One by one we were imprisoned. But I coulden't be fit in my mark so they locked me in all the other prisons. Making all tiny prisons my large prison.

The first hundreds of years were hopefull the taste of magic was near us. But as time passed the taste decreased untill there was nothing.


Now A Fresh chance awaits , too grow strong and fat of souls. As soon as the cocoons hatch.


Terrenum rituals
(it increased cause spode posted )
???? 2/3[/quote]

After a few days of fairly uneventful sailing the boat docked in St Johns. Dave had spent the time familiarising himself with the world around him. He realised that this felt more like revision than learning, as his Davy Jones memories contained almost all the nautical knowledge he needed.

Once docked, Dave disembarked the ship, making an effort to say his thanks for their help. That irked him a lot.

Now he had to undergo the next step of his new life. As he weaved through the busy docks he searched and contemplated for a chance to earn money. If he wanted to get slaves and a boat, he'd either have to steal them or buy them. He currently lacked the power to successfully steal either. So he needed money. But the only job he was qualified to do was as a sailor, which was not particularly high-pay, quite risky and would take way too long. Something inside himself had pained deeply while working to help the crew on the ship. He had taken it as a necessity, as he needed to ensure that they did not feel that the person they rescued was ungrateful, and he also needed a chance to test his body, but he feared that if he did it for too long he may lose the will to be a Keeper.

He eventually decided that he would rob what he needed from here, travel by foot to a small and suitable town he had located on a local map, and get to work setting up in that town. Sadly, slaves are much to expensive. Only very rich people can afford to by slaves, and he would need them in large quantities to build a Dungeon. That would cost a fortune which he could not attain. An alternative measure would have to be devised. A thought came to mind from his Keeper memories. Imps. Just a small bit of magical power and the right rituals and an imp can easily be summoned. For the ritual to be effective, however, it needs a Dungeon Heart, which requires workers to build.

What if he just hired some labourers? But again, they may get suspicious, and since they're only hired they can go and tell people before he had established himself.

In wandering, he spotted an opening into the ground. Peering around, he shrugged, lifted off the cover and climbed inside, landing on squishy brown muck mixed with stagnant water. His nose was instantly assaulted by the odours of excrement. He soon also smelt sea-water too. He had found himself in a sewer. Although the smell and hygiene were unpleasant, he did notice something advantageous about the location. Few people would probably explore down here, and he could probably find some place to carve out a hole for a temporary Dungeon Heart. But not here. Too many people here to establish a Dungeon. He would have to hope that the town he was going to also had a sewer.

Climbing back out again, he contemplated his next move. Getting into casual conversations about sewers, feigning that he hadn't seen such structures where he came from, he discovered that they were poorly maintained and private owners would sometimes modify them around their house. This was excellent. He would be able to hire a worker, create a room in the sewer and minimal suspicion would be raised.

Now for the matter of money. Hungry, he stealthily and nonchalantly swiped a fruit from a stall while the owner wasn't looking and, once a safe distance, began to eat it smugly. He'd have to be careful, though. The punishment for stealing was quite high. He needed to find a reasonable sum of money, and the sooner the better.

When Uekaru stepped out from the riverbank at the forest's edge, he was temporarily stunned by the sight that lay before him. A massive, multi-tiered town sprawled on a peninsula against a lake, which his river as well as two others emptied into. The solitary column smoke he had witnessed earlier proved misleading; not one, but dozens of smokestacks belched the stuff from as many buildings. He could see the workplaces clearly from his position, cementing his suspicion that this was a place of industry. Uekaru then made note of a colossal quarry on the other side of the lake, despite the hazy air. A mine of that size. along side strategic positioning along what might be a series of key waterways, meant that this grand settlement was likely a hive of commerce. The discovery of a multitude of sails partially hidden behind the city's stone walls confirmed his suspicion. Perfect.

As the Keeper approached, he pondered ways he could enter the establishment unseen. It would simply not do to approach the place's gates brazenly and saunter straight on in...or would it? Now a few hundred feet away from the main gate, he spied a column of musket-toting soldiers marching down a cobbled path toward the entrance. The idea to join their ranks and thus gain entry struck him. Excited at the prospect, he dashed forward only to halt beside a tree at the path's edge. Trying to look casual and off-duty, Uekaru leaned against it and watched the soldiers as they approached, taking special note of the way they walked, how they held their guns, and so forth. A few moments later the first column passed him by. A few favored him with discreet glances but, being good, disciplined soldiers, none broke formation to inquire as to why he was slacking off. A matter best left to their superiors, Uekaru supposed. He then realized that none of the soldiers wore swords like his--perhaps it was a badge of office, and they perceived him to be their superior? How fortunate!

Trusting his looted gear to blend him in, Uekaru pushed off the tree with a feigned yawn and shouldered his way into the ranks. One soldier grunted and glanced at him, somewhat miffed, but the imperious look in Uekaru's eyes convinced him that this was no man to be trifled with. Every soldier -and the one Keeper- continued to march as if nothing had happened. It was in this fashion that Uekaru entered 金属镇--Metal Town.

Once in, he splintered off from his platoon (Giving a quick nod to any soldiers that saw him go) and made his way to the city center. His human form, despicable as it was, proved very useful indeed; wherever he went, the humans moved out of his way, answered his questions, and generally treated him with respect. Half an hour later, he had obtained crucial information. Metal Town was built on a hill and thus was composed of three ascending levels. In the center of the third and highest level was the temple to Buddha, the God of these men. One eager young woman told Uekaru that the priests in the temple sealed it off from the townspeople some time ago, leaving those who prayed to pray elsewhere. She babbled on about all sorts of whimsical rumors concerning what could be inside the temple. Once she had her fill, she rushed off. He turned to face the city's center, and saw the shimmering bronze roof of the temple through the clouds of smog. "I'll have to pay this place a visit."

-=-=-
Location: Metal Town, Western China
Forces: 0
Resources: A canteen full of water, a Yanmaodao sword, a musket, and two cartridges.
Progress: 5/6 to enchant the blade

The ritual had taken longer than expected. For the rest of the day Jin'zul labored, crafting totems and figurines of driftwood and bone for the Loas. When night finally came once again, the warlock found his body craving rest.

Disgusted by his own weakness, but unable to subdue it, Jin'zul gave in to the need of his mortal form. The next morning, he carved the last of the two humans' bones into beads and strung them around palm fiber to create a necklace. After spending the afternoon shaping a ritual mask from wood and shells and then painting symbols on the brine-covered walls with blood, the warlock finally began preparations for the incantation.

To empower himself, Jin'zul mixed seawater from the nearby ocean with the blood still seeping from his open wound and milk from a fallen coconut. After drinking the foul concoction from a waterskin found on one of the two corpses, the Keeper performed the unholy rite over the ashes of the previous day's bonfire.

After chanting the same words for nearly an hour, the Keeper dejectedly sat down upon the cave's floor. In his prime, when he had a sprawling dungeon and thralls beyond count, the warlock commanded such power as to be able to gesture at the ground and bring forth a minion as lowly as the imp. But now, in this form and on this land, Jin'zul was unable to open a portal to hell even after invoking the most powerful magicks he could.

As the mighty Keeper sulked in the cave, imprisoned within the body of a ragged human, the ashes he had chanted to began to stir. The darkest reaches of the cave wept an unholy, black liquid that slowly oozed towards the dead bonfire in the center of the chamber. The ashes, coated with the strange oil, sudden burst into flame. The whole room was instantly heated as a small, thin figure crawled out from the burning pool of now molten ash. The flame's light and heat began to dissipate as the imp stood before the crouched down Keeper, who had sat motionless and only stared with a look of ambition and thirst for power.

In a rough, angered voice, the little demon looked at the human and spoke, "You claim to be one of the mighty Keepers of Old Outremar. I answer your summons, expecting a mighty warlock, but now I see only a wretched fool of a cultist. I suppose I should now claim your soul as payment for this treachery, and then seek employment with someone worthy of service."

The imp stepped closer, a fiery look in his eyes. Jin'zul burst into laughter, then with but only a snap of his hand, cast a spell. The smoke from the fire that just raged began to thicken and form around the imp, while the shadows themselves seemed to move and blend in with the black cloud. The demon began to gasp for air and claw at the floor only moments after the unholy cloud began to choke the life out of his pitifully weak body.

Determined to discipline the foolish and unruly imp, Jin'zul roared, "I am indeed a Keeper cast out from Outremar. Humans peladed for my mercy, and called me Death Incarnate. The other Keepers came to bow down and offer their fealty, and called me Jin'zul. But you shall serve me alongside the powers of Smoke, Shadow, Soul, and Blood, and you shall call me Master."

The demon managed to nod, and the Keeper released his spell. As the black smoke dissipated and the warlock's first minion gasped for air, Jin'zul leaned back against the wall of the cave. Working such powerful magic had exhausted him, and in reality the Keeper doubted he could have sustained the spell in this form long enough to kill the imp, but he was determined not to let the demon see his weakness.

Jin'zul spoke in a softer tone, "I am trapped in the form of a human, a victim of circumstances you need not know of. I now require a drink. Leave this place. Go into the nearby jungle, and return having captured a snake whose blood might sustain me. When the sun sinks and the shadows rise, we travel under cover of darkness to lay the foundations of my new empire."



Location: Eastern coast of modern-day Brazil, on the edge of the Amazon Rainforest.
Forces: One pitiful imp
Keeper: Jin'zul, a long forgotten keeper from Outremar who once possessed great magical power, including the ability to use forbidden Black Magick to manipulate the aspects of Soul, Shadow, Smoke, and Blood.
Resources: A meager amount of food and a pistol.
Progress: 0/4 in finding location for dungeon

EarthBound Linewalkers


The time had come. The Cocoons began to crack. As the cocoons dissapaited and from it came Frederick and the mercenaries.

Their skin was darkend , their body had lines acros their body and their eyes became black.

Each Man whos cocoon had the sign of a certain immortal had of the immortal on their right arm.

Lord Frederick rose he looked as the others but he didin't have a mark on him.

They were confused as they walked up to Terrenum. They looked at him as childeren given an rock to work with.

Terrenum spoke "Silence do not ask but listen to the earth."

They did not speak and in their head they heard voices of their Immortals.

Terrenum Yelled "Now Whos sign do your wear."

The men looked at terrenum and said "Uru the Spider , Assla Piscu the humingbird , cusillu the Monkey ,
Ccarayhua the lizard , Ccapac Apu the giant , Chacu Challhua the killer whale , Wiraqocha Rasca The condor."

Frederick did not speak and Terrenum spoke "who is yours god " Frederick said , I am Frederick a dark marker. I do not wear your mark because I have my mark in my heart."

Terrenum with a cynical smile said "Good , just as I expected. Now You have been gifted with Some magic through your imprisonment . I want you to draw this sign on the ground."

From his body dark slugde dripped and formed an mark.

Terrenum "This is the mark of an corazón. Once you make the mark all will be shown. You are earthbound Immortal Linewalkers."

Frederick filled with complete darkness led the earthbound linewalkers. They used magic to Draw the complicaited sign. None of them were artists and coulden't draw with an succes. But suddenly all seemed perfect with no problem.

As the incredible complicaited sign was drawn. An Eary black glow came from the mark. The ground in the mark darkend and began to rise up. As it rose and took shape. The complitaited mark became an Heart stone Just as were Terrenum came from. But it beat as an heart and did not break.

Frederick didin't understand and asked his master "Why did we remake your prison?

Fredericks master replied irritaited " I was trapped in my heart it was dead and it did not beat only draining me. Now I have recreated it and now it will beat and give me strength. I will now need to rest in my heart and prepare my drop of water which will form an ocean of evil. Do not interrupt me , Earthbound Immortal Uru shall explain what you must do. The soider is always great in constrcuting marvelous constructions."

Terrenum entered his heart and soon the idea came to him.

Earthbound Gara.

A Black as night Humanoid, SpringGreen lines giving shape to its black form. Showings it face and outlining it , his mouth will have sharp intertwing teeth and . It would not have arms but 2 large Claw arms.


Yes , it sounds good. It would be created by EarthBound Linewalkers


Terrenum Project

Earthbound Gara creature 1/3

It was evening now. Dave (oh how he hated having to use that so very human name) was still contemplating how to get money when he spotted an unassuming upper class person wandering into an alley. Quietly, and trying not to draw attention to himself, he slipped into the alley behind the gentleman. There could be all manner of reasons that this man was risking a trip into a dark alley at dusk, but they were not important. As silently as possible Dave picked up a loose plank of wood. Suddenly the man paused. No more time to wait. The time to strike was now!

He swung the plank and it cracked in half on the man's head. The man collapsed to the ground, clutching the wound, but was still conscious. Before he had a chance to cry out, Dave had an arm around his neck strangling the man while beating him further with his spare fist. Eventually, the man blacked out. Dave rifled the man's pockets and managed to attain a reasonable sum of money. Not enough to get a room built in a sewer, but he was a lot closer now and had money for incidental spending along the way. As long as he wasn't caught and executed for mugging.

Before leaving the alley, he moved the body so it was hidden and checked himself for any signs of a conflict. A patch of blood on his shirt from the man's head. Thinking quickly, he resolved to smear mud on it, concealing the evidence and making it look like he had tripped into a puddle. Not elegant, but it would do.

As he left the alleyway, ensuring not to be seen doing so, he realised that he was tired and hungry, sensations which he had come to grips with on his voyage here. A cheap inn was in order. After finding one and checking in, he further contemplated his plans. He'd need more money, petty theft was too slow and it wasn't likely that more opportunities to mug rich people were around the corner. And if he spent too many days doing this he'd risk getting caught.



Davy Jones (alias Dave Johnson)
Location: St Johns, Newfoundland, Canada
Resources: A dirty shirt, short pants, a wallet with a fair sum of money, a tiny magical crystal
Forces: Himself

Oh, well that was simple enough. Given enough time in his exhausted human state - a mere setback - he managed to call upon the few in between threads of magic in this world to conjure up an imp; and boy, wasn't it something? It took a while but he managed to figure out how to grasp the manipulation of it in this world... to an extent. Other Keepers had this thing for producing typical imps... why, though? They were so fleshy, so... inferior! Bataar's passion for technology and automations had set him apart from the average keeper, as depicted through the robotic imp, whose gears twisted and turned monotonously. Its brass color was accompanied by the bladed hands and hard fiberglass that depicted its eyes. It still maintained the average 'flight over fight' function, although not quite out of fear, but as a primary directive. Imps were made to expand one's dungeon, not to fend off an army - that would be the directive of his future constructs.

This weak human's stomach turned, causing an unfamiliar sensation that had wrecked Bataar's body: pain! Discomfort! Pathetic fleshy humans, and their pathetic requirement for nourishment! Turning to the imp automation, the Keeper had impatiently directed towards the top of the canyon. "Obtain slices and chunks of those green cacti sprouting about the desert here - make haste! This form doesn't take lightly to dehydration."

The automotive minion made no hesitation to follow its master's order, and it was simple enough to sink its bladed hands into the sandstone and scale up the rift, leaving Bataar alone to his own devices.

"This is all too inefficient," Bataar concluded, "I can't have this machine digging me a dungeon and fetching food for me all at once. The others will find me - there are always others, and we always find each other - and I'll be without a complete dungeon."

More imps.

Of course, it'd be better if he had to wait for the automation to come back. He wouldn't be able to complete the summoning at this rate. He had waited for about half an hour until the imp came back, bearing the fruit of its labor upon the blades on its back, which Bataar has eagerly snatched away. He ignored the small thorns that had splintered themselves within his skin, and drank away at the water that coursed through the flesh of the cacti. He as well used his fingernails to scrape away the fleshy, tasteless meat from the skin and proceeded to messily consume the second piece. It was best to consume ever last edible piece of it - the Keeper had left no spoils... he had left just a single slice of the cactus alone in the shade, in case he were ever to succumb to another one of those attacks again.

Now with the pathetic human hunger issue out of the way, there was only one more matter he should attend to before he started creating even more imps for the job. He turned towards his latest creation, and a smile stretched towards either side of his face. Anticipation crawled up his spine and appeared on his skin as goosebumps.

"Now we can get to business... you there!" He pointed a finger at the automation. "Start digging deeper into the earth... we're making a dungeon!"


-::|::-

Location: Southwest United States - Grand Canyon
Forces: 1 imp automation(s)
Resources: 1 cactus slice(s)
Progress: 0/7 in summon an imp automation, 0/??? (15? 20?) in creating a (small) dungeon.

As the man walked, the earth whispered to him. He learned his role in this new realm, and his name. He would be Tekkeitsertok, god of the earth, and he would bring his people, the natives who lived in this endless plain, glory. They had been subjugated and mistreated before, but now was the time for revenge.

With his convictions set, he followed the path set before him. He found tracks and scat, and followed them to a large herd of caribou. He smiled. His people, or the ones who would soon be his, hunted the caribou for meat, cloth, and material. Their ways had begun to change with the coming of colonists, true, but they lived as they always had. If he brought them the caribou- and alive- they would not doubt his claims, for they knew their gods walked the earth, both to help and to hinder.

He reached deep inside himself, drawing out the sliver of magic he had left. It would take time for him to be able to do anything more than create sparks after this, but he knew it was worth it.

He shaped the power, threading it through each of the caribou, the power diluting the further from his first target it got. He would simply have to rely on their herd instinct to lead them. Confident his spell was successful, he reached into their minds, and dominated them.


dominating herd of Carbou- 0/3
creatures- none
resources- none
location- southern Nunavut(NWT), near a small, unimportant village
Keeper- Tekkeitsertok, taking the role of a native god of hunting, caribou, and the earth. Communes with the ground around him.

Wind broke the calm of the void. A very violent rush of air that watered the eyes and sucked the breath from the lungs. She could feel- and how strange that was, to feel again- nothing but air around her. The turrent blurred her new vision and the noise deafened her. Out of the darkness, something rough and firmly solid struck her in the stomach. She turned in the air only to be struck again in the side, and then three more times before hitting ground.

She layed there motionless for a few minutes as sensations bombarded her. A starry night sky filled her vision, the soft rustle of grass murmured in her ears, her aching lungs were filled with light, cool air. She glanced about and found that a tree had broke her fall from the heavens. She could feel the bark's bites on her skin. As she examined her body, memories and instints overpowered the feeling of new life. She remembered she was a Keeper. Her name... her name was... Ordine! That was it! Oh, there was work to do. The other's would be coming soon if they hadn't arrived already.

A surge of energy filled Ordine as she rushed to her feet and nearly collasped just as fast. Confused she examined herself more closely. Two legs, she had only TWO legs. And they were human ones! She looked disgustedly at the ten tiny toes that wiggled mockingly at the end of her feet. Yes, she was clearly in a human body. Her white skin was nowhere near the tone it should be. The only thing that appeared to be physically correct was her long, pure white hair. She tried to change it. Grow a tail, wings, anything! Alas the magic failed her. "Perfect." The word was harsh and unsoothing, her new vocal cords warming up. "Human and no magic. How. Embarrassing."

Tasting the air about her, should could telling that she was at a verry different place than Outremar. She glanced about knowing that the first step would be to get her barrings. It appeared that she had landed in some sort of olive orchard. In the distance she could see the warm glow of light leaking from the windows of a farmhouse. Shaking her new limbs to life, she marched towards it. Answers could likely be found there.

Location: Greek Islands
Forces: 0
Resources: Nothing
Progress: No project

Earthbound Gara


Terrenum awoke from his Heart. He did not see the sun or the stars. He saw a walls and a ceiling. The Earthbound Linewalkers had orcestrated an old fasion Inca Piramde.

This Temple would be the start of his temple complex. It lacked much according to Terrenum no piles of skeletons , no skeletan heads build in the walls.

But Terrenum looked at his creation wich was standing ready for orders. You could see no face expression on its face. Only its eyes and mouth moved the rest were as motionless as stone.

He called his 15 Linewalkers to him. He explain how to draw the marks of the EarthBound Gara.

The Linewalkers quickly created 9 more Gara's.
The small group of monsters Roared in honor of Terrenum.

Terrenum orderd His linewalkers to Take the small group of EarthBound Gara and start terrorizing nearby villages. But their main Purpose was gathering men to become Earthbound Linewalkers.

Terrenum watched as his glorious troops marched out.


But Terrenum seemed happy but he ws under great pressure all the Immortals wantedto be freed. But it would take too long and too much pwoer to free all of them with great power.

But he had a plan , rather than free all of them . He would create an Power Orb , He could increase the power of this Orb later to make the earthbound Immoral using the orb to be free for some time be get mree of their strength released and be strong.

He went back ot hsi heart before ... oh he missed the feeling so much to be able to control his temple complex.

He shut the doors so he coudl not be interupted.



Creatures
EarthBound Gara , level 1 : 10
EarthboundLine walkers (earthbound immortal priests/imps) : 15



Terrenum Project

Earthbound Gara creature 3/3 *complete
Earthbound Immortal Power ORB (level 1 construct power) : 1/3

Pleasing scents floated out of the window and filled Ordine's nose as she slinked up to the farmhouse. Whoever lived inside was apparently about ready to enjoy a nice meal. She listened quietly to the noises coming from within. There was a man,.. and a women speaking to eachother in a language that was unknown to her. Aside from their voices only the scrapping of silverware and dinner plates could be heard. She risked a peek inside. The window lead right into the kitchen where a wood-burning stove was present along with a sink and counters. Recently used pots and spices were laying about. A bit of blood covered a knife and coutertop, likely from preparing whatever meat they were eating.

The voices rang from a different room as the kitchen was empty. Quickly and quietly, Ordine slipped in through the window and grabbed the bloodly carving knife. She followed the burning oil lamps down a short hall until she reached a lit opening. Peering around the corner, she could see the couple eating at the dinner table. Thus far they were oblivious to her presence. They sat facing eachother and she was positioned to the side of them. She gave a moment to survey the rest of the room. It appeared to serve as both their dinning and living room. Chairs, bookselves, and short tables adorned the opposite end of the room while a roaring fireplace sat right in the middle. Above its mantel, a curved blade and bronze shield sat. The weapon appeared out of place and ancient. Still, its metal shone brightly in the firelight to show that it had been well kept throughout the years. It was likely a family heirloom of sorts. Whatever the reason for its presence, it provided her with opportunity.

She let out a great yell as she lunged out of the hall, taking both humans by surprise. She could only imagine what they saw charging toward them; a pale-haired very foreign looking woman, dirty and covered with scratches in a torn grey summer dress, wielding a bloody knife. While they were frozen like deer in shock she dug the blade into the woman's chest. Fast as lightning, she went for the curved sword. From the corner of her sight she could see the man lunging for it as well. Unfortunately for him she had the upperhand. In one fluid motion she both drew the sword and gutted the man. Danger over for now, her human body began to flood her with its weaknesses. Her muscles ached from its impact with the tree followed by this conflict. The scent of the fresh warm food on the table pained her stomach greatly.

With the last of her energy she drug her body to the table and scarfed down a whole plate of lamb, bread, grapes, and assortment of mixed veggies. She chugged down both glasses of water greedily. She then forced herself over to the chairs on the other side of the room. Sitting down, she eyed the books looking for anything of use. It took about an hour, but eventually her Keeper mind warmed itself to the language infront of her. She was able to find some knowledge on where she was and the surrounding lands. Apparently she had landed in a country called "Greece," on one of its many islands in the Mediterranean Sea. The place was well known for its agriculture and rich ancient history. She learned that more developed countries lay in the north while less developed ones lay across the sea to the south. She mused at the luck of her position. Slaves could eventually be gathered in the south while she pillaged technologies in the north. But she was getting ahead of herself. In this form she was a slave to her bodily needs and didn't even possess the most meager amounts of magic. Plus she needed to settle in somewhere and build up. For that she would need imps. For imps, she needed magic. A plan formed in her mind. Many ancient temples had once stood across the land in worship of the country's ancient gods and goddesses. While now they'd likely be no more than museums and historical sites; if magic could be found in this world then those temples would be a good place to start looking.

Location: Greek Islands
Forces: 0
Resources: Nothing
Progress: No project

Earthbound Gara II


Frederick commanded the Gara's and additional wh oere createdto attack an small village they found.

It was chaos for the poor people of Peru of that village. The Gara's jumped on the roofs letting out loud roars.

People tried to run out of the village or take horses. But the Gara jumped from the roofs jumping the scared people.

The marks on the linewalkers glowed with seeming hapiness with the slaugther. It was an rag tag town of poor local indians who had been down on their luck.

The Immortals loved seeing the desendent of the Inca's being slaugthered. The otehrs who tried to stay in their house or defend themself fell a same fate.

The Earthbound gara's were not only above them but also udner them. Merging with the ground they quickly moved around the village. They were much mroe vuleranvle but could move muc hfaster

Some Gara's died because of acts of valor and courage. But the amount of effective fighting humans was much much smaller than the blood crazed Gara's.

But after the salugther was supposd done. But to the dismay of the linewalkers a single human was able to hid away not being noticed by the gara's. Original the linewalkers wanted him dead. But the Earthbound immortal Ccarayhua spoke to his linewalkers. He demanded that the man who had mastered the art of hiding in plain sight be made to wear his dark mark.

The man at first was more than unwilling but after the dark mark was made on his hand and he transformed hi unwillingess qucikly turned to the compelte opposite. But it seemed one man seein the horror from afar saw it as the Earthbound Gara who were in the ground reported an colom of 30 men approached the Village carrying strange weapons according to the gara's knowledge. But Frederick and the linewalkers knew from theyr previous life's knowledge while the Gara's base their knowledge from Terrenum.



Creatures
EarthBound Gara , level 1 : 15
EarthboundLine walkers (earthbound immortal priests/imps) : 16



Terrenum Project

Earthbound Gara creature 3/3 *complete
Earthbound Immortal Power ORB (level 1 construct power) : 2/3