Arise: Turning Point

[11:23] <@Xale> roll 1d100+14 Gathering Amphibians
[11:23] <+qqbot> Xale rolled 1d100: 58 = [44] + 14


It was cold outside, and while this was a matter of little consequence to a Murloc, it did in fact mean that all attempts at gathering food now in the winter were sparse, and confined to specific venues which could not be varied from. While attempts were indeed made to forage the forest for what little the creatures there might have hidden away, it proved far more lucrative to simply comb out into the cooled seas, ranging out across the clam beds, and harvesting seaweed as you went.

“Brother, It’s not often I get to have you along with me.” Gem-Flow-Gold spoke softly, her good arm hooked about own as you swum together like old times. “You’re always so busy.”

“Our people need me. I can’t turn away from such things.” You spoke, a determination in your voice even as you reached down to the seabed, grasping some edible seaweeds and yanking them up.

“And that Harpy you spend so much time fucking these days?” Blunt, but teasing. Her own fingers working against the sand to uncover anything which would have dug itself in.

“... It feels good with her. Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy that kind of thing yourself. Broodmother.” You speak, vaguely annoyed at her insinuations.

“Yes, with good proper Murloc boys. Besides, my point is, you hardly ever come see me.” She made eyes at you, scolding. She was taking after mother quite well. “And besides you know I’ve been learning a little alchemy from Blood-Ocean-Black... or at least as much Alchemy as the old fish can remember. He’s a little more faded than he used to be.”

“Yeah. I noticed. Some of the elders are starting to lose their luster.” Mother being the head one, neither of you can bring yourselves to say. “It’s been a while for some of them. And even now there are burdens that I can tell they have not put down even after making me lead them. There are things that they simply haven’t spoken of, almost as if they were afraid of how it would be received. And now age is catching up, bit by bit.”

“Think you can do anything about it with your pretty magic jewel?” Her face was suddenly serious as she looked into your eyes. Fingers having stopped their work, clutching instead at her stump arm. “It worked on this, I mean seriously... I should have been dead. Maybe there’s things that that that magic glow weed crystal can do you haven’t even gotten into yet.”

“I... don’t know...” You answer, it is a solemn thing, the first words to slip from your mouth as you think of what is to come. “I really have no idea. The crystal... it almost seems to do its own thing sometimes. Sometimes it leaves me wondering which of us really is the god, and which is the tool. Mother deep... it’s so powerful... I mean look at me since I began to watch it. Look at the harpy... hell look at you, and you only sometimes stay with me, you’ve changed so much. The whole village has changed even though no one seems to actually acknowledge it. It’s changing us.”

You look at her, eyes covered briefly with your nictitating membrane.

“... It’s changing us. And I don’t know what it’ll make us.”

You both swam home in silence that evening, remembering the temple being built in your name. In dedication to the crystal, and the Light.

Results
Reward: +3 Food, +14 gold





[13:55] <@Xale> roll 1d100+16 Temple of Light
[13:55] <+qqbot> Xale rolled 1d100: 111 = [95] + 16


It is the solstice.

The shortest day of the year. The Light fades at the edge of the horizon as darkness falls, engulfing the land. All around you it sits, a massive structure so grand that nothing else you have ever achieved seems to have been quite so grand. A twisting structure of wood and wonder, bent into the form of Temple as stone and glass melded into its structure with seamless grace.

It’d taken months of work on the glass alone, the work on that alone a tribute to the Wave Callers and Sorcerers who sacrificed their time to create each and every delicate piece. The major building though was the work of the wisps, as the Ancient of War worked with them and both Silk-Wave-Ocher and Blood-Ocean-Black though designs which had been drawn up almost a year ago. The two lovers had been working on the idea in their spare time, it seemed, creating a blueprint of powerful functionality, clear at every point where a change in the circumstances in tribe had shifted, scrapped, or added to how they planned to handle the creation of this building.

They’d known long before you did that this would be made. For the two elders, it had only been a question of how, and when.

“My brothers and sisters...” You spoke upon the alter, molten sand twisted into grand shapes of beautiful glass all around you as your audience watched, wrapped in expectations as all breath seemed to stop. They watched you with worshipful eyes, eyes which you still doubted belonged upon you, but had long accepted as part of your life.

Your voice carried far, purposeful design. The entire temple had been made to accommodate your word, to allow your preaching’s and to give alter to you as had been given to many of the gods to come before you. You aren’t sure that you’re comfortable here, not at the center where all eyes and ears were upon you, where you were the literal central focus

“... my brothers and sisters. The mother deep has blessed us. She has blessed us with bounty after bounty as we have sat upon this island. From seven we have grown in number, three hundred strong. From weakness we have grown, to the point of strength.”

They watched intently as you procured the gem, the faded light of the horizon leaving the sky just dark enough that night vision had begun, but just bright enough that no stars yet graced the skies. A twilight zone