Dungeon Keepers: the Stranger World

Consciousness flooded back into Torrens Igneus. The last thing he had remembered was himself blacking out as his entire being was sent into a flaming stone which his master Gorsik had summoned to send him through the portal to a new world.

Now he opened his eyes and light flooded into them. He was lying down, so he got up and looked around. Endless savannah, with thick grass and plentiful shrubs. Nothing which would equate to a forest- those always made the fiercest of fires- but it would serve sufficiently to feed him and his starved, black form. Black! That meant he was only moments from running out of heat! But he didn't feel like he was dying. He remembered distinctly how he felt last time he had, in effect, died, and this wasn't it. His pain was concentrated in his abdominal regions.

He took a closer look at himself, and something wasn't right. He groped about his body when this realisation struck. Where were his horns? Or his tail? Why was his flesh so soft and inconsistent? What was that between his legs? Then it clicked. No longer was he an indestructible demonic manifestation of heat and fire. He was human! He was revolted at the mere thought, but here he was. His body temperature was a consistent, and much too low, 36 degrees Celsius. If he had ever dropped to this temperature before, he'd be comatose!

He eventually decided to get to his feet. Movement was still much the same, so he could manage that. He wiped his forehead. Was that water? It must be what is known as sweat. His body was trying to keep him cool? It was an abomination!

Torrens was confused. He needed to find out what happened and how to get back to his demonic form.


Compendium: Torrens Igneus, a Rogue Construct from the previous Age. He is a demonic physical manifestation of heat and fire, dependant on thermal energy as his life-force and power. He constantly radiates a lot of heat, proportionate to the amount he currently stores. Instead of receiving wounds, he loses an amount of fire, without which he will go dormant. Current trapped, without any of his aforementioned abilities, in the form of an African male.

Spoiler:

With the herd of caribou bound to his will, Tekkeitsertok led them from the clearing, now following hunting paths, of which there were many, to a village. In short order he arrived at the village, the herd of caribou nervously grazing behind him. He waited in silence, allowing all those in the town to gather before him. Several of the caribou attempted to escape, but his sinuous, subtle magic stopped them from moving.

Eventually, he decided that most, if not all, of the village was before him, and silenced them all by raising his hand. "*I am Tekkeitsertok.*"

His declaration immediately led to confused murmuring. Several of the gathered villagers seemed on the verge of laughing, but each time they got close another would point out the caribou. Eventually, their elder stepped forward from the crowd. "*Why do you come to us, oh great Tekkeitsertok?*"

"*I come to you because your people have been broken by the coming of the white men from the east. I come to draw you up, and to make you a force that will not be broken by any foreign army. All I ask in return is that you construct an alter for me, and in payment I have provided many caribou, that you will not starve through your work.*"

Once more there was whispering, but excited. They knew that the caribou before them would more than outlast the work he was asking for, and even if they gained nothing from it but the favour of a god, surely that was enough? Unanimously, they decided to help him, and asked what he required. With a smile, he told them.

(text in *these things* is translated from the native language of the inuit, whose name escapes me at the moment)

Building imp summoning alter- 0/4
creatures- none
resources- one small village, population 156, primarily men and women
location- southern Nunavut((south eastern NWT), in 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.

Torrens wandered the plains when he decided that he needed to get his priorities in order. He recalled that humans needed plenty of water, especially in hot areas (just like this one). He also recalled that they had to be fed. Their bodies are also a lot weaker, succumbing easily to wounds, disease and extremes in temperature. They also generally preferred to have clothing, but Torrens considered that to be, for the moment at least, a lesser priority. So he needed to find water and food, and also find a way to regain his true body.

Trekking onwards, he saw in the distance a congregation of animals. He eventually figured that this must be a source of one of the two basic requirements of humans. He approached the animals and saw a river. He cautiously passed the animals, which were a few elephants, zebra and birds, although he didn't know what they were called, which cautiously let him through. Torrens looked at the water, thinking about how to get it to his mouth. He quickly figured out that problem, and cupped his hands to bring up some water, which he poured sloppily down his mouth. Swallowing came as a human instinct, and for the first time he felt water go down his throat. Strangely, the cool liquid felt refreshing to his throat and skin. He drank some more and covered himself with water. It was an odd notion, him taking action to cool himself.

But the water had not fixed the pain in Torrens' stomach. He now associated that sensation with hunger, and decided he needed food. Sadly, the shrubs, grasses and sparse trees looked rather dry and devoid of useful fruit. He needed to get meat somehow. A weapon of some sort would help. A medium-sized stone would do to start with. It was a bit like a fireball, he reasoned, only a lot heavier. He took a few practise throws, getting used to the weight, before searching for prey.

After half an hour of searching, he found a gazelle fawn with its herd. He slowly walked with-in range, being careful not to startle the animals. Then, when the fawn was not looking, he reeled back his arm and hurled the stone. With well-trained accuracy, it struck the young animal, crippling it, and the other animals scattered. But they didn't scatter very far. It was more of a reflex than a retreat. He would need to scare them off, or else they may fight back. Lacking any large sticks nearby, he sufficed to charge in screaming. It worked surprisingly well, with the animals fleeing from the charging human. He chased them for about 20 metres beyond his prey, then moved over to the fawn to deal with it. He picked up his stone again and crushed the injured animal's skull, killing it.

Then came the bit he didn't know. How to eat it. As an elemental demon, he had never eaten food, let alone prepare it. What he did know was that people normally cooked meat. However, to his humiliation, Torrens currently had no way of starting a fire. He would have to experiment with how to consume it, but preferably in a relatively safer place. So he moved on.

Jin'zul awoke just as his imp arrived bearing good news; the area of jungle had been clearing and a small, squat stone room had been built. Struggling to his feet, the Keeper began to trek towards the site than would soon be his dungeon, his brow covered with sweat as a result of a burning fever. Half way up the hill, the warlock's strength left him. Rather than accept the aid of the pathetic imp and continue, the Keeper sat down to rest for another hour.

This form was utterly pitiful, but he would leave it behind soon enough. Upon finally reaching the hilltop, Jin'zul noted that all but three of the magically enslaved humans had died of exhaustion already. That was an annoyance and a temporary setback, but the next time the Keeper chanced upon mortals, he would hopefully be powerful enough to use magic of a more powerful sort to make them last a bit longer.

"Build a fire within this hovel. There is neither time nor need for a bonfire or a permanent firepit. Simply gather some of the felled wood and-" Jin'zul commanded, before being interrupted by a hacking cough.

The imp looked scornfully at the sorry state of its master, but still obeyed, the image of the villagers' massacre still fresh in its mind. Minions were naturally unruly, and Jin'zul did not keep them in line with kindness, glory, or loot. Instead, he commanded complete respect and utter terror from each of his servants, and that was why having his only imp see him so weak was unacceptable.

When the demon's task was done, the wretched human that was Jin'zul stood before the fire, his shadow great and powerful, the very opposite of his actual body. The keeper uttered the words so softly that the imp strained to hear over the roaring blaze, "You have seen my power, even felt it for yourself. But you have also seen this form's frailty, my weakness. That weakness ends now."

Jin'zul tore off his string of beads, casting them aside, and removed his ritual mask. The face that had been hidden behind that mask for days, a face covered with sores and oozing foul liquids, showed obvious signs of exhaustion. Though the Bringer of Death was nearly on the verge of dying himself, he managed to summon a small dagger of black, swirling smoke, made of pure malice. Then, with neither warning nor hesitation, the Keeper stabbed himself in the chest.

To the imp's horror, his master fell to the ground before the fire, continuing to rend a massive cut in his own flesh. And then, the warlock ripped out his body's own heart and somehow retained the strength to cast it into the air before dying.




The Construct emerged from the wormhole from whence he came only to find himself falling from the very heavens. The silver robes that concealed a skeletal frame fluttering in the air, the rogue construct looked not unlike a tiny silver comet as he came crashing to the ground.

After having his body and soul mashed together with those of keepers, antikeepers, other constructs, and all manner of other vile things, the Construct had felt some strange force attempting to rip him from his body. Luckily, he had been a late combatant to the battle on Outremar, and had kept a low profile, conserving his energy and absorbing the life force of countless dying individuals. As a result, the Construct had possessed enough power to just barely manage to stay in his own body, and now he used some of the last of it to slow his descent.

Even so, the inevitable impact with the ground did great damage. There were no trees to break the fall, just an open, grassy field. His clothing torn and bones broken, the Construct struggled to invoke some of the healing magic that he had always neglected to learn. By all rights, this fall should have been fatal, but he managed to use his powers to survive, and he didn't go through the trouble of living only to die a few moments later.
Even

Upon Bataar's awakening from a rest that was almost twice as long as it should have been (but he was probably very tired, so we'll cut him some slack), he was greeted by a rather wonderful surprise: his eyes witness three fully functional imp automations, all well-constructed and congruent with one another. Clearly the T.A.A. has been working its wonders lately, and has done so rather well. Just by looking at it, it was easy to tell that it was almost done with a fourth imp. This was good - he would need as many machines as he could to dig out a grand dungeon fit for a Keeper such as he. Just that thought of a secret army, factory, and laboratory hidden under the sand beneath his enemy's feet, striking at the most opportune moment like a lion ant... and here was his meager start towards his grand vision. He should, of course, savor the journey towards such an endeavor, although the road there are bound to have setbacks. It was for the best though.

He first had to think of the increasing numbers of his army, and the expansion of his dungeon: he could let the machine work wonders now and continue to produce these simple automations, allowing them to carve out his dungeon. Alternatively, he can take a couple now and create even more of these factory boxes. Of course, fueling a hundred of these would likely kill him... unless he can figure out a way around that. Could he, by chance, improve the efficiency of these machines? Make them produce his imps faster with just as much necessary blood? Ha! Haha! Well of course he could! Bataar, is after all, a genius!

These were just tertiary machines. What about the secondary, the primary? He could increase development efficiency! It would, however, be time consuming. And spacey - he imagine the Secondary Automative Assembly would be quite large, let alone the primary. He'd need imps to carve out some more of the rock before he was to continue. It would work though... oh yes, it would work. Time was a necessary-- oohoohoo! The T.A.A. popped another one!

The excitement and giddiness the fulfillment of one's ambition can ensue in a Keeper was quite a phenomenon, and Bataar was no exception to that. In fact, he was probably one of the more eager Keepers, more willing to celebrate the succession of an experiment... it must come with being a scientist. The others likely don't understand trial and error. Batarr knew, though: you can't rush perfection... so should he?

Nah.

Deriving more power from his dungeon Heart, Bataar barked another command, grabbing the attention of three of the four automated imp mechanisms. Replaying a similar demonstration, the had conjoined, and Bataar initiated the continuation of the process, grabbing it, pressing it together and imbuing it with magic. Another small mechanized box had formed. He tossed the top fiberglass lid and, now that the blood on the lower half of his face had dried up, he pricked his index finger with one of the blades on the side. Dropping a couple drops of blood in the opening, he watched the second machine hum to life. A smile had crept up on his face.

"Now," The moralized Keeper chanted, "you!" Bataar pointed towards the last remaining imp. "Continue the construction of my glorious dungeon... let's get started on a hangar, for my glorious creations!"

Hangar was Bataar's term for another Keeper's "barracks". The imp automation did not hesitate to carry out its master's command, and proceeded towards one of the unfinished tunnels, beginning its ceaseless task.

Well now, this plan was coming together quite nicely.


-:-:!:-:-

Location: Southwest United States: Grand Canyon -- Bataar's Dungeon
Forces: 1 imp automation(s)
Resources: A (small) dungeon & Heart, 2 TAA(s), 2 cactus slice(s)
Progress: 0/3 in making an automated imp (TAA[x2]), 0/25 in making a hangar
(every post counts as two posts to TAA[x2])

Torrens had eventually sufficed to slice it open with a sharp stick and tear at the raw flesh with his teeth. It was embarrassing. Someone who once caused wood to burst into flames by his mere presence can't so much as summon a spark now. The flesh tasted strange, but everything tasted strange to him as he had never had a sense of taste before.

He carried onwards, with a slab of the meat over his shoulder for later. The sun was beginning to set, and fatigue was spreading over him. At first he worried. He normally didn't feel sleepy unless he was running mortally low on heat. Would he die on his first day on this world? But then he remembered that most creatures needed to sleep daily. With a bit of relief, he went to look for a place to spend the night. He had seen predatory creatures around the plains, and decided that sharing the ground with them would be a bad idea. Perhaps a tree?

He had found a tree, with gnarled branches and smooth bark. He ate a dinner and decided that carrying a big slab of tasty raw meat with him to bed would be a great way to invite hungry carnivores. He sighed and left it on the ground a short distance from the tree. Hopefully anyone who might want to snack on him would go for the meat instead.

He had almost got himself comfortable when something poked at his mind quite sharply. He tried to ignore it, but it poked him again. He got up and looked around. Nobody was around in the dwindling dusk light. But the prodding persisted, until it turned into a tug. He was suddenly drawn towards a particular direction. Irritated, he attempted to go to sleep. A minute later he gave in, got up, and headed off in the direction his mind was being pulled towards.

Spoiler:

The chilly mountain air cleared Ordine's mind for her plans. Now that she had a few servants it was time to begin building. She knew what she would require for a dungeon. It would have to be a city of sorts to house her future legions. Keeping such a thing hidden though until it was built up would be key. No mere cave would be big enough. But the ocean however, that could hide a city. Her ethereals could begin building without protection seeing as they didn't require air. And if she formed a Heart first then she could likely summon enough power to shield herself from the water. She surveyed the surrounding island shore (which she could see distantly from the mountaintop) looking for anything that could be key in her construction.

Off to the side, not too far from beaches, layed what looked like white stairs in the side of a rolling hill. From the pictures she had just seen she could tell that it was an old marble quarry. What a find! The stone would be perfect to mine and build from. She doubted that there was much of it left in the hill but it should have enough to start with. She swung herself on her mount and took off again down the mountain path. Her three imps followed by means of flight. They hadn't spoken since their transformation. Likely because they were nothing but the energy their souls used to be made of. No personality lingered in them. No wants or desires to stray them from their purpose. Quite the perfect servents.

Travel took a while. The land looked quite a bit different in the valley than it did on the mountain, and Ordine had to keep checking that she was heading in the right direction. Plus she opted to avoid the roads again. Stolen horse, strange appearance and luggage, three glowing floating pieces of armor following her, the usual reasons. Eventually, she reached her destination. The first "stair" of the quarry reached above her head, even when mounted. There was definately enough material to begin construction. Trees were not far off, the imps could use those to make carts to carry the stone over land. Under water however, they would need assistance from the Heart. She dismounted and leaned against the cool marble wall behind her. She scanned through all she owned for something to form a Dungeon Heart out of.

Location: Greek Islands
Resources: A sword, a helmet, a shield, a pair of man's slacks, a shirt, and a vest, a summer dress, a map of the country and surrounding areas, some food and water, a knife, a horse, and some spare coins
Forces: Three ethereal imps.

Torrens walked across the night-time savannah. The moon was full and its light was strong, so he could see enough of the ground so as to not trip on any unevenness. He could also see around him. The place was empty. Anything which was out and about was under the tall grasses. He wondered where he was going, and why. He also worried about getting attacked by wild animals. He had seen many during the day, and they had to be around somewhere.

After walking for nearly half an hour he saw something on the horizon. A fire. And surrounding that fire was a village. He hurried on and soon arrived at the village. The inhabitants of the village, who looked rather similar to himself at this time, were undergoing a ritual dance. Beads, bones, staffs, stone circles, chanting, dancing in a circle. Torrens pondered what kind of magic they may be trying to invoke when he was drawn against his will to walk further into the village. And he kept on walking, past the tribesmen, over the stone circle and stood in the middle. At that point, the dance abruptly concluded. There was muttering among the dancers, doubt on their faces, until the shaman addressed him in a language Torrens did not understand.

"I'm sorry, I can't understand you," Torrens replied, in the common language of Outremear.

The shaman spoke again, repeating what he had said before but slightly uncertain.

"Sorry, still no clue what you're saying."

With his sharp mind, unaffected by this inferior body, Torrens had figured out that this must have been a demon summoning ritual or something of the likes. Being the most convenient demon, he was dragged along. Now they're all wondering why a normal-looking person is standing where some other-worldly being should be and speaking a strange language. The speaking another language thing must really bug them, because that means that they can't get any wishes or wisdom or the such. In fact, they might just think he was a crazy man who was lost. Perhaps the only thing which didn't concern them was his lack of clothing, as they also appeared to mostly lack clothing save for an almost insufficient loincloth and ritual jewellery.

They were talking among themselves, deciding what to do with this strange man. Torrens tapped his foot and drummed his fingers in impatience. He figured he needed to help them. With a extra dollop of drama, he yawned loudly. This caught their attention. A consensus was reached, and he was lead by one of them to the inside of a branch hut, where there was a straw mat he could lie on. Definitely more comfortable than a tree branch. He lay down and slept, hoping that their hospitality was good enough to let him live another day.

Spoiler:

Sanguine visibly digested the information - he wasn't fucntioning as well as he could - and thought about his response. Finally, he said "Have you considered a non-violent course of action? For example, mayhaps you could pay them a small amount to use their land, with your new four-field rotation techniques. And then, offer them work as farmers. Pay them enough so that they make as much as they used to, and then a little bit more, to sweeten the deal. I've seen their crops; they do not have the latest developments, and it shows. They barely have enough to sustain themselves. That is one of the few courses of action that give you enthusiastic workers for a couple of acres." Albert raised his eyebrows, and said "You do possess the gift of intelligence, stranger. I do not possess much, but I see your point. I know that a happy, fresh worker is better than a dejected, forced one, like I have seen in cities like Manchester or London. I shall send my valet over to negotiate with them. Thank you." Sanguine nodded, and left with Calvin. As they left the room, Calvin said "He is a good man, and looks after those he employs. And he notices exceptional people." Sanguine smiled, and said "Well, I am exceptional. By the way, I'd like to know about the area, so I can go about and live here, if I choose to. I'm fascinated by your castle..."

Sanguine reached the apex of the hill, and immediately liked what he saw. The castle was in perfect condition. Well, when the term perfect condition was used, it was an overstatement... the term desirable would have been better, because it was substantial enough to rebuild, but derelict enough to modify the parts he wanted to. He walked through the crumbling walls, and froze as he heard a voice. It was slight, smooth, and barely audible, but he was... well, exceptional. Putting his back to a wall, he unslung his musket. He would have one shot, in normal circumstances. But, considering the fact it was shit, he had had an idea. A blunderbuss was practically a musket with a sawn-off barrel (and overpacked), right? Basically. He had no concern for little things such as the gun not being designed for that purpose. He emptied the powder bag into the barrel, then emptied the ammo bag. Peeking around the corner, he saw a doused campfire, and two drunk men swaggering around near it. A third, well-dressed man shook his head at the pair, and looked right at Sanguine's wall. He must be the leader, and it showed; he was well clothed, and had clean equipment. Sanguine readied his musket, and then took the moment when the leader looked away. Stepping out, he aimed from the hip and pulled the trigger. The blast ripped open the barrel, but not before the deadly lead balls were flying. When they hit the two drunkards, the two men were thrown off their feet and against the wall. The outside of their bodies were shredded by the hail of death, their fronts hardly resembling human beings anymore. Tossing away the destroyed musket, Sanguine darted foward. The leader was fumbling with his weapon, which was caught in a loop of rope. Grabbing a branch from the fireplace, Sanguine slammed the head of the leader like a baseballer trying to get a home run. The leader's skull was detached from his body, and flew off the hill. Sanguine smiled at the length the head soared, and looked at the campsite in detail. It was a professional bandits campsite - it was well stocked, near a cellar, and had a good line of sight all around it. He would be able to use this to feed his imps, and any human servants that he acquired.

A few hours later, after having acquired tools from the warehouses and subterranean halls of Corfe castle, Sanguine inspected the site for his dungeon. The owners of Corfe castle had obviously been paranoid people, because not only was the keep a fortress by itself, it had a maze of rooms underneath it, most of which contained what must have been the library. However, he guessed that during times of war, it would have been stocked with enough supplies to last for a decade, if they kept. He had found a hall underneath all of this, large enough for a heart. He had spent half an hour cleaning the room of any foreign objects, and had converted one of the storage chambers to what would be an imp portal. Finally, he undressed and kneeled, naked, in the middle of the hall. His tall, well built frame was impressive, and slowly, it looked different. The skin slowly darkened to an olive tan, the muscles seemed to stretch and enlargen, and even his bones seemed to grow. He grew taller. The air looked cleaner as time progressed; dust incinerated. The stone that constituted the walls whitened, until it seemed that everything was covered in marble. Patterns began to etch themselves, with self-organisation that was uncanny.

Five hours later, and Sanguine, Lord of Order and Anarchy, The Matrix of Time, and the Oracle that Sees All, stood up, clothed in his shirt and bowtie. But he had changed. Underneath his skin, his muscles increased three fold in density and size, and the amount of blood vessels feeding them had exploded in number. His biological heart, the one that kept his human body running, was larger and more powerful than before. His eyes contained something behind them, something that was alien. And behind him, was an object of such great beauty that it was at once the...

Nevermind that. There's work to be done. You know, keep time oriented as it should. We ain't got time to gawk at hearts.

Tekkeitsertok approached the simple alter with a smile. The men of the tribe had done well, creating small pillars from bone to support a great tarp of pelts, all of which surrounded a simple wooden table etched with dozens of designs, and which stood at the top of a great hill. True, it wasn't anything grand, but it didn't have to be.

Placing his hands on either side of the runic swirls and circles, he channeled the few remaining traces of his magic into it and created a small rift, hanging in the air above the alter. From the rift come a number of small earth elementals, leaving behind a hanging entrance to the elemental plane of earth.

Behind him, he hears gasps of fear, followed by frantic prayers and words of praise in his name. Good, he thinks, they'll serve me all the more loyally now.

The elementals stare at him, unconcerned with their situation. They care not who their master is, so long as they may work the earth. With a few words, Tekkeitsertok commands them to go a half days jounrey south of the village, and to raise a great hill on which to construct a great temple in his name. With a nod, the silent creatures scurry off to do his bidding.


Building dungeon entrance(temple)- 0/5
creatures- 6 imps
resources- one small village, population 156, primarily men and women
location- southern Nunavut((south eastern NWT), in 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.

As JIn'zul's brutalized body rested lifelessly on the dirt floor, the heart that had been his for a short few weeks soared towards the ritual fire in the middle of the room. Upon landing in the fire, the flames grew huge enough to almost engulf the terrified imp, who was cowering by the far side of the wall, as far away from the scene as he could get. Then, without warning, the flames turned blue, then purple, then pure black. The room became completely dark, and then the blaze sputtered out. Not a single charcoal or spark remained of the fire, and the strange flames seemed to have absorbed all the room's heat, leaving it cold and damp.

A faint glow emanated from within the fire's remains, barely illuminating the room. The pile of cold ashes that had been a fire only seconds ago stirred for a moment, and then Jin'zul's heart began to float out of it. The organ had swollen to the size of a horse's head, and turned a vile purplish color, and was coated with black tar and ashes from the flames. But despite all of that, the twisted thing was still slowly beating. Foul, black liquids oozed out onto the floor instead of blood.

A shuffling sound drew the horrified imp's attention away from the center of the room, towards its dead master. Jin'zul, now alive once more, struggled to his feet. A massive hole was in his chest, where his heart had been torn out by his hands. The dim lighting helped to conceal the dried blood caked all over his other wounds, and the infected injury on his shoulder, but it was still obvious that the Keeper was walking gore.

As if on cue, the two or three remaining enthralled villagers walked into the building, their bodies about ready to collapse and be dead for good. That would be a waste. With only the utter of a few strange words, Jin'zul called upon his horrific blood magic. Red liquid began to slowly seep out of the slaves, as if they were sweating it, but it quickly started to pour out before flying towards the Keeper. In less than a minute, nothing remained of the humans but shrunken husks, while the blood had rejuvenated the warlock and healed all his wounds.

Jin'zul, his body now flawless and seemingly unblemished, now turned towards the imp. "This excuse for a dungeon now has a Heart, though the same cannot be said for this pitiful form of mine," the warlock said, gesturing towards the still beating heart. "But that is no matter; I have a place to create magic and draw power from, as any Keeper should. But there is still much to be done, and your labor alone will not be sufficient. Help me summon more of your kind."


Forces: One imp
Progress: 0/5 in summoning 3 more imps; 0/15 in creating a small, but permanent summoning circle to constantly create more imps
Dungeon: Currently one small, squat, above ground room crudely built of stone. Inside is the dungeon heart in plain sight.





Dark clouds slowly approached as the Construct continued lying on the ground, trying to repair his broken body through magical means. When at last the construct did succeed in telekinetically pulling all his fragmented bones back into place and then binding them together with a spell, it had started raining. He tried to groan, but found himself unable to even move the muscles of his jaw. After all the centuries of having a body decrepit beyond description, the Construct still had yet to grow fully used to being able to do nothing without the aid of some sort of spell. He occasionally found himself still trying to speak, but his efforts never met with any success. Telepathy was the only thing that allowed the silent Construct to communicate anything at all.

The Construct eventually summoned bands of pure magical energy to wrap around his brittle frame and pull his bones, in a similar way to how muscles worked. In this manner, he was able to slowly stand up. Finally taking the time to look around thoroughly, he eventually glanced down at a puddle forming at his own feet.

Staring back was a horrifying figure. It was very tall, especially compared to the humans of this time period, standing just short of seven feet high. Pale, taut, and extremely thin skin wrapped around a narrow and pitifully scrawny frame that looked slender enough to be a skeleton. But the creature's visage was the most inhuman part. Its mouth hung slightly open at all times, the jaw muscles too weak to even keep it closed.

Only shriveled, black balls were in the face's sunken eye sockets. Vision had left the depraved creature countless years ago; the thing now both moved and saw only through magic. Though he no longer had any eye for beauty, the creature had been forced to grow well accustomed to scrying, the art of seeing with magic. As a result, he could observe the most minute of details from miles away, if he cared to look closely.

The Construct continued to stare down at the puddle. "What a lovely reflection I have," he thought. "It is a shame that I must hide behind robes and a mask. Speaking of which..."

Dave had been living quietly in the small town for a few days now. Drawing as little attention as he could in such a community, he visited the abandoned cellar frequently, ensuring that his prospective Heart was secure and developing properly. Twice a day, while the tide was low, he would sit next to the crystal he had planted and channelled its energy. The crystal would grow in contact with sea water, so by now it covered most of the floor. Each day Dave could feel the energy growing inside himself. He could achieve feats of magic. He never did anything big. Mostly a bit of telekinesis. Just to prove to himself that he could do it. The set-up was not perfect. The room smelt of excrement, and samples of such would often be deposited on the floor after the tide receded, but at least that should deter unwanted visitors.

Now the crystal was big enough for him to start being a Keeper. Oh, how he had waited for this moment. He would summon an imp, and he would be able to start building a proper Dungeon. He would have to be secretive until he could subdue the entirety of Bay Bulls, but anything better than this would be brilliant.

All he had to do was find where to start. It pondered this for a while, until he decided to get to the ocean. He waded through the sewer and arrived at the outlet. He then waved his hand in the water and whistled. About half a minute later a medium-sized octopus arrived and swam up to his hand. Dave led it up the sewer to his lair. Once there, he plucked it out of the water and placed it on the centre of the crystal. He took a deep breath, then got to work on harnessing the power of a Keeper to mould a living being out of sheer will.


Davy Jones (alias Dave Johnson)
Location: Bay Bulls, Newfoundland, Canada
Resources: Two shirts, short pants, a rag, a knife, a wallet and a bag with a little money
Forces: Himself

Imp 'Blueprint': 0/2

Sanguine wanted an imp, however he had not yet completed his portal, and anyway he could not summon an imp with his power. The construction of his heart had sapped practically all of his magical energy, owing to the fact that it was 1. A heart, and 2. His first time being a legitimate keeper; he wasn't used to constructing a heart. That being said, he suspected there may be an innate knowledge that each keeper had. It might be worth studying, except for the fact that keepers were in rare supply. Stupefied with what he could do to better his position, Sanguine went back to the bodies. They had started to smell, and flies were gathering. He didn't care though, as he wasn't planning to spend a long time near them. Looting the bodies, he tossed out clothes that didn't fit him, and took their weapons. He also took the leader's clothes, because they were comparable in size, and the food supplies. Finished, he dumped the bodies into a ditch, and covered them up with a small layer of dirt. He wasn't showing respect, he was just keeping the bodies in an identifiable condition. These three may have a bounty on them, like Smit, and it would be a good opportunity to make money easily.

He needed some way to obtain power. That was vital. He could wait a long time for his heart to finally give him what he needed, or he could do other, less conventional methods. There wasn't really many options, since this world had not been touched by the magic he flourished upon. But then, he remembered something. For some odd reason, Doviculus had stayed with him in the movement from Outremar to here.

Those he assimilated NEVER stayed with him from each age, or from each transition. By his nature, every time he had to arrive he changed form. It all depended on what he had to do, really. If he were to assume a major position in events, his form would mirror that, because this time he was a keeper, one of the most influential beings. Likewise, if his mission was to assist in the shadows, nudge things, or change the outcome slightly, as he had done in the fifth age, he would probably become a ghost, or a phantom, or a spectre; something that was not noticeable but powerful. So why had he retained Doviculus? He had a few theories, that the imprint of his mind was so fresh when Sanguine had made the transtion , that Doviculus was more powerful than most, but these theories didn't fit. Maybe Doviculus was cunning, maybe he had wormed his way into Sanguine's mind.... which was alarming.

You're clever, Sanguine, I'll give you that.

Sanguine? You're conscious?

Well if that isn't an understatement...

But you should be going insane! You literally died a few weeks ago!

Oh please, you were unconscious for a LOT longer than that after you came here. And besides, do you really think I'm in a normal state? I'm going fucking crazy just staying in here!

So... you've been awake a lot longer than me?


Yeah, basically. But you already knew that. I told you.

No, I just have an idea...

After some discussion, Doviculous relented. He would tell Sanguine the secret of his necromancy blend, which absorbed the life force of enemies. While similar to Sanguine's assimilation of minds, it was far more effective. When Sanguine killed a living being, he assimilated their mind, and the small amount of power associated with that. In the case of a keeper, it was incredibly high, but nowhere near the life force that necromancy drained. Together, the result was enormous in the extreme: The life force, knowledge, mind and along with that mental power of a living being. Prepared, Sanguine decided he might try a course of action profitable in currency and power... Bounty Hunting,



Sanguine
Major Minds: Doviculous, Smit (Highwayman)
Location: Dungeon Heart, Corfe Castle, Swanage, England, Europe.
Resources: A clean white shirt, black bowtie, black trousers, 4 dozen pounds, 3 musket, ample ammo, green jacket and purple pants, wanted poster for Smit, Two months supply of food and water. Does not yet possess the gift of foresight.
Forces: Himself?
Allies: The Physician (Calvin Corfe).
Dungeon: Corfe Castle, Dungeon Heart, Framework of Imp Portal

An olive. It was nearly perfectly oval, no imperfections on flesh. But it was only an olive. Ordine signed. It was all she had and it would make due even if it wasn't the most spectacular of objects to form a Heart from. Most of the day had passed on Ordine's island. A shower of rain had just started leaking from the clouds above. The imps had a nice pile of marble stone already cut from the quarry and laying on the shoreline. They just needed direction on where to go from there.

She plucked up the olive from her meal cloth. It lay in her palm on its side as she placed her other hand on top of it. The pupil and iris disappeared from her now glowing eyes as she started to hum a strange tune. The power that she had gathered from the temple began to channel through her body into her hands. Her palms seperated in a pulling motion. The internals of the olive was now an intense speck of light. Its skin had lifted from the rest of the fruit, or vegetable depending on how you define it. The thin green skin split into many smooth, curved segments. The segments turned silver and hardened into metal. The whole structure grew to be the size of a football.

A great wave of air rushed from the Keeper's lungs as she finished. Beads of sweat fromed on her forehead. What a strange sensation that was. Her eyes returned to their normal appearance. Physically, she was quite a bit drained from the effort. The whole process felt as if it had been pulling her muscles pass their limits. But there it was. Her Heart, a glowing white oval of light protected by silver floating metal plates that slowly orbited the center, hovered right infront of her.

She placed her hand under it and the Heart followed as she walked over to the shore. A wave surged up and instead of wetting her feet as it should of, an engery field formed from the Heart and surrounded both of them. She walked into the water in the protective bubble she had. She walked deep enough until she was sure that for now the Heart's glow would be hidden by the sea. Now she could scry for an ideal location to really start building.

Location: Greek Islands
Resources: A sword, a helmet, a shield, a pair of man's slacks, a shirt, and a vest, a summer dress, a map of the country and surrounding areas, some food and water, a knife, a horse, and some spare coins
Forces: Three ethereal imps.
Dungeon: Currently a few slabs of marble stone and a Heart.

Revcovering

The battle took much of his forces and magic. They had to rest and regroup grow and prepare.



Creatures
EarthBound Gara , level 1 : 12
Earthbound Quetzals , level 2 :8
EarthboundLine walkers (earthbound immortal priests/imps) : 20



Terrenum Project
(find atleast a few thousand souls for immortal orb improvement)


the Immortal temples 10/10 *finished*

Immortals
Uru the Spider immortal , color red.
Ccoshbar the Dog Immortal with color dark orange
Immortal Cuauhcoatl the snake with color Dark Red
Aslla piscu the hummingbird color orange
Cusillu the monkey Yellow
Ccarayhua The Lizzard color Green
Ccapac Apu the giant , color blue
Chacu Challhua The Killerwhale , color purple
Wiraqocha Rasca The condor , color violet
[/quote][/quote][/quote]

Uekaru's well-oiled feet made no sound as he stepped down from his Heart, fatigued but resolute and with a his blueprint in hand. He followed the pulsing marigold-hued Veins through the walls of the mine he had adopted as dungeon until he arrived at the newly-completed spawning chamber. The imps built it well; putting all the cut stone from the quarry to good use, they lined the walls heavily with it as well as using it to construct the structure within. This particular fashion of chamber hadn't been commanded by Uekaru, yet it appeared perfectly tailored to his needs. He suspected that the will he exerted over the puny imps held some sway in their architecture, but it mattered not. Before him loomed a stony oriental garden-style pool, complete with columns and arches that cast long shadows in the amber light given off by the Veins. The center of the chamber was dominated by an equilateral square pit, not very deep but empty.

Nodding in faint approval at the foreman, Uekaru raised the hand that clutched his blueprint -a burgundy wooden mask with big yellow eyes, cruel features, and a huge proboscis-nose- and placed it upon the designated knobs at the center of the arch facing the door. Once situated in its proper spot, the intricate carving pulsed crimson once, sending energy across carved lines in the columns and arches that all traced back to the pit. Uekaru watched as the lines of energy sped down its sides and fill in an arcane symbol at the pit's bottom. Instantly it began to thrum and crackle with energy, which swirled and spat until it formed a crimson whirlpool within the pit. The imps shied away from the portal, but Uekaru watched intently as a sinewy, burgundy, oddly-textured limb reached out of whirlpool and grasped the stone at the pit's edge.

The creature hauled itself from the rift and crouched before its master, breathing heavily. It was bipedal, about the height of a man though constantly hunched over and squatting, making it seem smaller. It also had a broader, muscular build, though it boasted a skin tone that no human would ever claim: ripe red, like the demons of myth. Its face matched exactly the Tengu mask, as would the face of every Tengu to follow it out of the portal and into Uekaru's service. These Tengu, though limited by their status as Uekaru's first creature, would make a respectable force until more minions could be carved into existence. New monsters couldn't be created yet, however; more chambers of the dungeon would need to be fabricated to support a larger and more versatile horde. And that, Uekaru decided, would be his next step. His instincts hungered for conquest and destruction, but the warlord knew that to fight a battle one must first prepare himself. "Tengu!" he rumbled, "Assist the imps in the construction of an foundry." Traditional weapons were a good start, but projectile weapons would have their uses as well. Perhaps a foray back into Metal Town was in order.

-=-=-
Location: His dungeon, in Metal Town Quarry, Western China
Forces: 11 slightly-empowered imps, 1 Tengu
Resources: An enchanted Yanmaodao sword, a half-full canteen, a few tons of stone, some metal and wood from the quarry along with tools.
Progress: 3/3 Tengu blueprint. 0/5 construction of a foundry.

Compendium (Lvl 1 Minion): Tengu - Squat, powerful, and dull manlike workers/warriors with red skin.

It had not taken long for Davy Jones to design his first imp. The scheme was simple and broad. He would stick together and modify sea-creatures until he had something resembling an imp. A few modifications would be made, such as unifying the animals in such a way to make a single organism and allowing it to survive above-water. Then the imp would be complete.

This was mostly an octopus. The head, arms and legs were derived from the octopus. To fill in the rest he had called upon two fish, which had been to form the chest. The fins, head and tail of each fish were not needed, so were discarded. The creature complete, Dave needed to give it a mind. It breathed. It moved. But at the moment it had an intelligence comparable to a vegetable. His Keeper memories told him that imps could be summoned from some form of ethereal realm. As he had a suitable receptacle, he should be able to easily call the mind on an imp into this body he had designed.

With sufficient raw magic available in his Heart, he summoned the imp using his own willpower. As he didn't need to summon its physical body, he reasoned that this would not be impossible. His hands on the side of the creature's head, he closed his eyes and probed into the Void. In moments, he could feel some power drain from him and the creature stirred.

It lifted its tentacle arms and looked at its tentacle hands. "What is this?" the imp said incredulously.

"Don't you complain. I need you to dig out another room that way," Davy Jones ordered.

"With what?"

Dave didn't like his imp's attitude, but the imp had a point. There were no tools here for digging. He sighed. "I'll go get some tools. Guard this room while I'm gone." He was about to leave when the imp asked, "Who is it that I serve?"

"My name is Davy Jones."



Davy Jones (alias Dave Johnson)
Location: Bay Bulls, Newfoundland, Canada
Resources: Two shirts, short pants, a rag, a knife, a wallet and a bag with a little money
Forces: An imp

Imp 'Blueprint': 2/2

Imp: A conglomeration of assorted sea-life with the overall form and consciousness of an imp. Amphibious.

Ordine entered her Heart and found the world around her opened up into a bird's eye view. The Heart wasn't strong enough yet to see underground or through walls. It could however see under the waves, which is what she needed at the moment. A survey of the Mediterranean around her island showed rocky waters in the depthes and colorfull reefs in the shallows. One reef lay not too far from the shore that she was currently located at. It would be a good place to use in building the frame of her dungeon until it she had enough power to move it into the depths. Infact...

Ordine walked along the shallow base of the sea toward the reef. The sea parted around her protective bubble. A school of fish glanced by and then darted away. She found as she approached the reef that all of the underwater life shyed away from her. Good, it'd be annoying if fish got caught between her stones. She came upon part of the reef that formed two intersecting archways. Inside she let her Heart rest. Channeling power from it, the bubble expanded to encompass the arches. As the barrier moved over them, the coral smoothed into white marble. The irregularities straightened until they looked like they had been hand-crafted by experts.

The arches had become the first solid structure of her dungeon. She could feel the Heart gain a few onces of power from having a home. She knew as she built up her city it would channel into her Heart, making it more powerful to not only supply her with magic but to protect her domain from waves that hid it for now. She decided that her next structure should be the barracks and spawning chamber for her future legions. She sent a message through the Heart to her imps to begin laying the stone. Their few ethereal abilities should be enough for the three of them to handle the marble blocks underwater.

Meanwhile, maybe she should start planning out that first creature.

Location: Greek Islands
Resources: A sword, a helmet, a shield, a pair of man's slacks, a shirt, and a vest, a summer dress, a map of the country and
surrounding areas, some food and water, a knife, a horse, and some spare coins
Forces: Three ethereal imps.
Dungeon: Currently a few slabs of marble stone and a Heart room.
Project: Building barracks 0/5, Blueprint 1 0/3

The three extra imps summoned at last after hours of incantations and rituals performed by Jin'zul and his first imp, the duo got an hour or two of respite while the newcomers were informed of the current situation. The top of the hill had been cleared away by the enthralled villagers, as Jin'zul had commanded, though a rather large setback had been how they were forced to cut down every single piece of vegetation and then dig up its stump, rather than just burn the forest. A large fire would prove dangerous and uncontrollable, as well as draw far too much attention.

But now, Jin'zul realizes that perhaps clear-cutting the trees down hadn't been such a bad idea. There was plenty of fresh lumber down in the nearby ghost town that had once been the village. The three new imps were ordered to bring some lumber back and construct some crude fortifications. Several rows of abbattis were set up right outside the stone room that was the dungeon, about halfway up the hill the dungeon stood upon, and then finally down a short distance from the foot of the hill.

While a dry moat around the whole hill with wooden stakes hammered into the bottom would also help make the location more defensible, Jin'zul did not yet have enough manpower to demand the undertaking of such a large dig. The imps were told to report back once they finished, and then left to begin their work at once. Meanwhile, Jin'zul and his first imp continued working on a permanent summoning circle for imps, so that they could soon have a steady inflow of laborers.


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
Forces: One imp
Progress: 7/15 in creating a small, but permanent summoning circle to constantly create more imps; 0/5 in constructing crude abbattis all over the place
Dungeon: Currently one small, squat, above ground room crudely built of stone. Inside is the dungeon heart in plain sight.



Though it took several hours, the Construct had gathered some tall grasses from nearby and woven them like threads to mend the numerous rips in his robes. Though his clothing must have looked magnificent and imposing at one time, recent circumstances had left in not-so-great condition and it was now half woven straw, and half silver-dyed silk of the most rare sort.

With the physical damage to his clothing had also come magical; while before he fell from the sky the robes had been imbued with layer upon layer of protective enchantments to the point that they were like steel armor, they were now no more than hideous pauper robes, too ugly to be of any value and yet too strange to not draw attention.

By casting a relatively simple transmutation spell, the Construct was able to turn the woven grass into silk akin to what the rest of the robes had been comprised of. However, the enchantments were still almost nonexistent and there was little that could be done considering the mage's current state. After carefully evaluating whether or not it was worth his energy, the Construct decided to channel a portion of the miniscule amoutn of power he had left into the robes, strengthening the enchantments a tiny bit. Though they would still be unable to repel an incoming arrow or a spell, the damage caused by the rainfall that had started a while ago seemed to be undone, and the robes no longer became wet despite the torrential downpour.

The next order of business was his mask. Not only did the thing hide the Construct's visage, it was his armor as much as a steel helmet was to a knight. Without anything to restrict his power, the Construct could sense nearly every rock, crevice, and living thing within several hundred feet, even in his current condition. While that power was very useful, the mage still felt unsafe knowing that anyone competent in the most common of magics could sense him just as easily.

That was where his mask came in. With his magically enhanced senes, the construct quickly found it lying in a puddle across the field. The mask was made of pure silver, the same color of the Construct's robes. It was a completely stark, flat, unblemished slab of metal, aside from the four rubies studded inside it. The artifact looked alien and impressive, despite its simplicity. Where a normal mask would have two holes for the wearer to see through, this one only had two tear-shaped, opaque rubies lined up vertically where each eye would be. The artifact held great power and possessed very powerful enchantments.

When the Construct wore it, he was nearly undetectable by magical means, like a ghost. The mask also protected its wearer from attacks of magical origin, making the construct's mind almost immune to attacks from spellcasters similar to himself. The mask was designed to allow sight and attacks out but not in, but it still did impair the wearer to an extent, of course. With his mask, the Construct found himself forced to actively focus much harder than usual in order to sense nearby creatures, and his own attacks were slightly weakened by the mask's resistance. Still, the mask and his robes served as his armor, and he was far more formidable with them than without.

With his armor back in shape and his musings finished, the Construct decided to seek shelter from the rain. Luckily, there were a few farmhouses in the distance. He set off towards them, debating along the way what he should do upon arriving at the dwellings.

Dave returned to the Dungeon Heart, slipping through the trapdoor after ensuring that nobody was watching and closing it quietly behind him. He was carrying a small pickaxe, slightly too big for the imp but it was the smallest he could find. He had used the last of his money to buy the tool. Dave himself was unshaven, a beard starting to form but not yet thick enough to be an actual beard, and his clothes were dirty and stained, despite his regular washings.

Dave passed the imp the pickaxe and said, "Don't break it, because I can't buy another. Now get digging."

The imp scoffed. "A Keeper who has to pay for things and lives in a rotten sewer? What kind of Keeper is that?"

With a wave of Jones' hand the imp was flung against the wall by telekinesis. Gently, of course. Davy Jones did not want to injure the imp, which would be especially easy as this one lacked a skull, merely hurt it. "One who has faced a few setbacks. Now dig."

The imp mumbled and rubbed its bruised head before hauling its new tool over to the wall where it started digging. While that imp was busy doing that, Davy Jones called for some more sea critters to construct more imps out of.



Torrens awoke on the straw mat. He realised that he had never slept naturally before. The feeling was similar to that when he shifted from dormancy to activity, but was gentler, more natural and didn't involve hangovers or gasping for breath and heat.

He paused to enjoy the sunlight cresting over the top of an opposite building, casting its rays over his face. A reflex made him retract his eyes from the bright light, reminding him of how frail this body of flesh is. Having just woken up, he stayed and rested a bit longer. He found sleeping a pleasurable experience, while waking up prematurely uncomfortable.

He was disturbed from his sleep by shouts in the distance. This caught his attention, and he got himself upright. The shouts were getting louder. Then, all of a sudden, an explosion cracked through the air and screams materialised. Alerted, Torrens clambered to his feet and looked out the doorway. He saw the women of the tribe fleeing while the warrior men were charging with spears at a group of white men in the opposite direction. One warrior was lying on the ground with blood coming from his chest. Three more explosions fired out from the group of white men, and three more warriors fell. This time Torrens could see the source. Metal sticks the white men, probably soldiers, were carrying had released bursts of smoke along with the explosions. That, the correlated deaths, and how they were holding them like crossbows, allowed him to figure out that these were almost certainly powerful projectile weapons. Not something he wanted to mess with.

Plans to reincarnate himself would have to be put on hold. Self-preservation was somewhat more important. He slipped out of the doorway and behind the hut. Hidden from view, he started to slink away when he saw two soldiers standing by waiting for him and froze. Of course, the soldiers had flanked the village, how could he have missed a tactic like that. One shouted at him and poked the metal rod in his direction. Defenceless, Torrens sighed and put his hands up, defeated.


Fifteen minutes later and the inhabitants of the village had either been killed or captured. Their hands were bound by ropes and those ropes were joined together in a long chain. The front end of the rope was tied to a horse, which was being ridden by one of the white soldiers. The rest were surrounding the group, ensuring none of them tried anything. They were travelling in a direction, although Torrens did not know where it might lead.

Fury burnt inside him. He wished that this fury would burn literally and allow him to rain fire upon these soldier who have humiliated him. Of course, that was a fruitless wish. He would have to bide his time. Wait until the moment to strike was right. However, in this state, he imagined that would be a long while away.


Davy Jones (alias Dave Johnson)
Location: Bay Bulls, Newfoundland, Canada
Resources: Two shirts, short pants, a rag, a knife, a wallet and a bag with no money
Forces: An imp

Tekkeitsertok grinned as he examining the new hill, stretching almost a hundred meters up from the surrounding plains, with a great temple to his glory built at the peak. He knew that it would be some time before he could truly ascend to be a keeper once more, but for now, he was content with his progress.

Pausing their work, he had the elementals forge for him a sword, strong as steel and unyielding as rock, though it's magical properties were lacking. He gave it an experimental swing, feeling how it sat in his hand. It was much too heavy for him, but he would grow used to it in time.

Finally, he returned the elementals to their work, tasking them with creating the frame for his dungeon heart, with a long tunnel connecting it to a secret entrance within the temple. The elementals gladly obeyed, ecstatic at being given a task that relied so heavily on their creativity.

Building dungeon heart- 0/6
creatures- 6 imps
resources- n/a
location- southern Nunavut((south eastern NWT), in 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.


Far east and a fair bit south of Tekkeitsertok toiled, fire bloomed in the sky. Khazid'hea first became aware of his release from the ancient seals placed upon him when his own enchantments began to slough off, losing themselves in the sheer lack of magic in this place. Frightened for the first time in his long existence, the intelligent blade began calculating and planning, before exerting the small amount of control over his form he could, making himself smaller, so that the spells would require less power.

Still, though, he felt himself fading, and so he started working to restore his power- first, he created a transfer between the heat surrounding him and his magical reserves, so that even as his defenses were buffeted they were bolstered, before softening his spine, allowing greater chances of avoiding a sudden snap. With the heat fueling him and the odds of utter destruction significantly decreased, Khazid'hea was content.

And then he hit the ground.

Davy Jones now had two more imps. One was mostly crab, and the other was mostly fish stuck together using algae. However, they had no tools so they could not help dig. They'll have to dig in shifts. He also lacked any considerable amount of power. Or military force. He had his own rather small magic, but that would in no way be enough to fulfil the role of Keeper.

Dave wanted a creature. Something which would be the muscle of his prospective empire. But for that, he needed something to make them out of. Then he remembered, if he was the Keeper of the souls of those who had died at sea, then shouldn't he be able to access those? He sat in the centre of the crystal formation and took up a meditative position. He could feel them, in the metaphysical locker, but he could not grasp them. He had insufficient power to do so.

Then he came up with a plan. If he couldn't access his original locker of souls, then why not make a new, temporary locker. A container of some sort, which he could enchant and use to store souls. He called up the fish imp.

"You, I need you to run an errand for me. Find a container, something you can carry, of any sort, and bring it to me. Do not get caught, or seen. That is important."

The imp climbed tentatively up into the world above. It was night, so he would be able to sneak around unnoticed. It walked around, very nervous, jumping behind cover whenever he thought a person was coming. He soon came to the dock, and was quick to spot an unlit lantern. It would do, although there were people about. Very quietly and very slowly the imp tip-toed up to the lantern, lifted it off the table and scurried away.

Davy Jones was waiting in the Heart for the imp when it entered through the trapdoor.

"Here you go, Jones," the imp said shyly, "A container."

Dave held it up. The light from the crystal floor was enough to see by. It was cast iron. Not the best of lamps, but it would definitely do. He clicked his fingers and a small piece of crystal broke off from the floor and floated up to his hand. He inserted the crystal into the lantern, where it made the lantern glow very faintly purple. Then he got up and went out the sewer and to the ocean outlet. He scooped some water up into the lantern and closed it. It began leaking, but hopefully it would be enough to prompt the crystal to grow into the lantern.



It had been a long day's hike, but the slave train eventually reached a large river which had a boat on it. The soldiers began leading the captives onto the boat, but when it came to Torrens' turn he stopped dead. He had a reasonable fear of large bodies of water. He wasn't going onto that boat. Not willingly, anyway. But that mattered little to the soldier ushering the people on, who just gave Torrens a hard whack with the butt of his gun. He stumbled forwards, gasping at the pain. Pain? That was something new. He'd never experienced pain like this. After the sharp burst from the impact, it ached very strongly. Not wanting another strike, he resentfully moved onwards. He felt the spot where he had been hit. It was swollen slightly, and was starting to change colour, but it didn't look all that serious. Still, it hurt. Injuries, even minor ones, were not a part of life that he had experienced.

Once everyone was aboard, the boat set off, heading downstream.


Davy Jones (alias Dave Johnson)
Location: Bay Bulls, Newfoundland, Canada
Resources: Dirty clothes, a makeshift Heart in an abandoned cellar connected to a sewer, a knife, a lantern
Forces: 3 imps

When Ordine exited her Heart she was holding a small transparent statue made of some sort of glass or crystal. It was smooth with silver bits here and there, and resembled some six-legged feline looking creature. It was her first finished blueprint. She turned it in her hands a few times, admiring her craftmanship. Looking up from her project she noticed the new expansion to her dungeon. A hall had been built off of the Heart room. It was made from the marble and the ceiling of it curved till both sides met at a point. The hall held no windows but little white orbs of light had formed for illumination. The barrier had also expanded as expected to keep the sea water out. She walked down the hall and exited into a large round base of what would be a spire in the future. The bottom was being made into a kennel of sorts for her first creatures and was almost done. The structure had no ceiling at the moment since there was more that would be built off of it later.

Pleased with the progress she set the figurine down on a table and walked back to her Heart room. She decided to make a map of her entire dungeon layout that way she would not have to guide the imps constantly. They could simply check it and start on their next project. She set priority areas and the order that they should be constructed in. Her overall design was simple and easy to process. The map itself was a floating three-dimensional projection of light that could be summoned from the Heart's memory. Now that it was layed before her, she could fully fathom the amount of work that was ahead of her. Three imps would not be enough to complete this amount of work in a timely manner. While she could create a spawning chamber for them, she didn't have any armor on her to bind their forms to. Her Heart, with having to support the barrier, also wasn't strong enough yet to meerly let her summon a few more through it. However, if she gave it a boost of some sort she just might be able to pull it off.

She rummaged through her mental list of resources to see what she could sacrifice for the cause. The answer was quickly discovered. That old horse had served its purpose and was now basically of no use. She didn't plan on going anywhere soon. Its lifeforce would grant a nice boost of energy. She called upon one of the imps to fetch the animal. Horse followed willingly at first until the ethereal tried leading it into the sea. It fought against the imp, and Ordine had to lend some suggestion to the animal from the Heart. A barrier formed over the animal just like it had for the Keeper to keep it from drowing. Once it saw that it was safe the horse followed more willingly.

When it entered the room she took the reins and sent the imp away to finish its job. She wasted no time in comforting the animal. She simply reached out and sucked out the soul like she had with the imps. All of the energy was directed back into the Heart. She also threw in the knife for the metal bits that would be needed. Playing with the lifeforce, she split it into three parts before pulling them back out. Three beams struck the ground and left behind three new imps. They were amazed at first by the structure around them. Upon seeing Ordine however they immediately lined up in a neat row. She directed them to the map and they split into two different groups. Two of them went down the hall to start the spawing pits. The last set off in a new direction to start the foundation of the smithy and silver fountain. Armor to bind all of her servants too was going to be a critical resource. It would keep their forms intact, allow them to be upgraded, and silver was easily enchantable. It was too critical infact to have to waste time finding a place to mine the metal. She would have to summon it by magical means. Summoning an enless supply of silver would take a lot of power. But she already had the basics on how to achieve such a feat in her mind.

In the meantime, her stomach was paining her in a familiar fashion once again. She pulled out the last of her food and finished it all off. Should could also feel the effects of fatigue starting to tug at her eyes. This human stuff would have to be rid of soon aswell.

Location: Greek Islands
Resources: A sword, a helmet, a shield, a pair of man's slacks, a shirt, and a vest, a summer dress, a map of the country and surrounding areas, some food and water, and some spare coins
Forces: Six ethereal imps.
Dungeon: Currently a few slabs of marble stone and a Heart room hidden in a reef in the Mediterranean Sea.
Project: Building barracks 4/5, Blueprint 1 2/2, Building smithy/silver fountain 0/10, Building spawning pits 0/5

Dave had been resting on a bundle of cloths by his Heart. He didn't really need to sleep, as he could draw on power from his Heart to rejuvenate himself, but sleeping was more natural and wholesome for this human form. He was woken by an imp at a time he had arranged earlier, just before dawn. The early fishers would start to head out then, and he'd be able to ambush them.

He checked the lantern. It had developed according to plan. A thin coating of magical crystal lined the inside of it. Then he checked his knife. It was his only physical weapon, so far unused for combat. It was big and scary, but as a culinary device it was better designed for chopping and slicing, not stabbing. Like everything else he had, it would have to do.

He called the octopus imp to follow him with the lamp, and stay hidden under the water. Davy Jones took his normal exit to the sea. Once there, he needed to work some magic. He had not yet developed the power to change his own form into something more useful, so underwater travel would require some assistance. He found it surprisingly easy to weave a cheap spell which would allow him to breathe underwater. Filling his lungs with a strange aura, he dived into the sea.

Swimming also came naturally, kicking his legs behind him to gracefully propel him through the ocean. He kept low down where he would not be very visible in the faint dawn light. The imp swam behind him, adopting a style like breaststroke, and carrying the lantern.

It did not take long for Jones to spot an ideal target. Two fishermen on a small boat, rowing outwards to better waters. Once they were a reasonable distance from shore, Davy Jones closed in for the kill. He stealthily popped his eyes above water to see their positioning. One was preparing the fishing equipment and the other was rowing the boat, with his back to the first fisherman.

Davy Jones swam up to the boat and, without warning, sprung up, grabbed the fisherman preparing the nets, and using the help of a little telekinesis pulled him overboard and plunged him underwater, all in a single second. His companion heard the splash and began looking around and into the water, trying to find where he had gone, but he was now directly below the boat and so was not seen and was being dragged deeper down. The fisherman struggled, trying to escape Davy's grip, so Davy kicked him in the stomach, winding the fisher and causing him to drown.

Meanwhile the remaining fisherman was still searching desperately into the dark water from his boat. Behind him rose a man, brandishing a knife. This man stepped one foot from the ocean onto the boat, which rocked, prompting the man to turn around. The last thing he saw was the silhouette of a drenched man plunging a knife into his chest and then throwing him overboard, removing the knife first.

Davy Jones rinsed the blood off the blade in the ocean. Still standing on the small boat, he called his imp to surface. He took the lantern and looked into it. Then he closed his eyes. Two souls, descending to Davy Jones' Locker. They were still in reach, so with a mental hand he plucked them from the ocean and placed them into the lantern. Opening his eyes, he saw two points of light floating inside the lantern. He closed the lantern, locking the souls inside.

"Row this boat out of the bay. I don't want people finding it too soon," he ordered. Then he dived back into the ocean and swam home.


Back in the Heart the imps had made some decent progress with the Dungeon. They used spare planks of wood to keep it supported and had made the floor higher than the high-tide mark, ensuring that it doesn't was the dirt floor away. So far they had only finished the corridor and were starting to dig out the room, but that was progress.

Dave re-emerged from the ocean and walked into the Heart. "I'm going to create a creature now," he announced, "This is a very delicate process. If anyone distracts me I will make sure that you will regret ever being summoned out of the Void. Understood?"

The imps nodded.

"Good. Also tell that to the other imp when he returns."

Then he sat down, took one of the souls out of the lantern and got to work.


Davy Jones (alias Dave Johnson)
Location: Bay Bulls, Newfoundland, Canada
Resources: Dirty clothes, a makeshift Heart in an abandoned cellar connected to a sewer, a knife, a soul lantern with two souls
Forces: 3 imps

First Creature: 0/3

Jin'zul awoke from a brief period of rest, cursing the limits of this form he was still trapped in. The Heart was channeling the smallest stream of energy into him now, but nowhere near enough to sustain his mortal body and eliminate any need for food or sleep.

The Heart. Jin'zul stared at the twisted thing still beating in midair, towards the center of the dark room. Silently the unholy thing beat, each time leaking a few drops of vile ooze from tears in its exposed veins. The black Heart continued to beat and beat, but it did not disturb the air around it in any way, for which the Keeper was thankful. Jin'zul had never realized how much he had grown to hate and fear the constant, maddening throbbing of the accursed organ until he had torn it out of his body.

Upon exiting the tiny stone room that would one day become a fortress, the Keeper was greeted with a good sight. The abbattis had been constructed, so at least his dungeon's Heart could be defended should any attackers come. The abbattis were really no more than barricades made from sharpened logs and branches protruding from the ground, but anyone storming up the hill would have to wriggle through or climb over several rows of the barricades while getting entangled in the branches and leaves.

The first imp was nearly finished with the summoning circle, but the other three who had built the abbattis were now idling about. An idle imp was unacceptable. Not only was it unproductive, but if the wretched little servants became bored they were prone to grow used to having free time and become defiant. Defiance was something Jin'zul would not tolerate; a combination of watchful constructs and overseers, displays of power, and plenty of work was typically enough.

However, when those failed, the warlock had a horrible reputation for maintaining loyalty through fear - torturing the unruly as examples, and suppressing absolutely any signs of free will of individual thought. Unfortunately, Jin'zul had learned that terrified and mind-controlled imps were both equally unproductive and worthless, so he would have to continue tolerating their impetuousness and keep them occupied for the time being. The three imps were sent down to the village, where the sixty or so dead villagers still rested.

Jin'zul had purposefully neglected them as the rotting corpses would no doubt serve to remind his imps that even in the form of a human, he was not to be tested. But now, the imps were instructed to carry those dead, as well as the remains of the enthralled villagers, up to the top of the nearby hill and lay them outside the room containing the dungeon heart. While the three puny creatures went about their task, the Keeper tapped into some of the energy he had conserved, and began creating his first creature.


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
Forces: One imp
Resources: Some stone tools, a large amount of food stored in the village, and 80 corpses (All are decomposed, 20 have already had their souls bound to Jin'zul, and 3 were ruined beyond use when Jin'zul absorbed their blood and lifeforce to heal himself)
Progress: 12/15 in creating a small, but permanent summoning circle to constantly create more imps; 0/2 in creating first creature blueprint
Dungeon: Currently one small, squat, above ground room crudely built of stone. Inside is the dungeon heart in plain sight. Imps have taken up residence in the nearby village.