Champions of the Orthodox [To Kill a God]
Jul 31, 2017 21:09:14 GMT -7
Post by Y on Jul 31, 2017 21:09:14 GMT -7
In the Land of Bears, nestled in an obscure forest in the western most region, just on the edge of the Known World, there was a smoldering square of desolation. This square was approximately100 meters by 100 meters, and covered in rubble of marble, gold and other stones, but it's ground was far too sacred for any looters to touch it. For here stood the ruins of the ancient Chapel of Their Infinite Wisdom, a temple dedicated to a large pantheon of gods, or, as some would put it, all gods. Smoke would rise from this in waves, and flames would appear and disappearing, dancing in the wind. One who observed this through supernatural means would detect absurd amounts of chakra and other energies swirling around in a tumultuous fashion, as if the earth itself was angered.
The champions arrive.
The clearing was, all in all, about a quarter of a square kilometer however, and, on the opposite edge, stood a wigwam sort of structure. It was composed of bent trees and birch bark, as well as fabric-based coverings of varying colors, but mostly purples, reds and yellows. From it's central chimney, which was little more than opening in the top, smoke puffed gently, warding off the mild but legitimate winter of Bear Country. It was covered in crests and sigils, most notably the same sigil which had appeared before the summoned champions in their holy vision. The smoke, oddly, rose in an orderly fashion, in small, nearly-spherical puffs.
The guiding compasses of the summoned, which pointed their journeys, would lead precisely to that wigwam. As soon as the wigwam was spotted, the sigil would flash, and then be seen no more, at least for the time being. The wigwam's door was covered in cloth, so what stood inside remained a mystery. The sky was clear, and the air felt almost impatient. Perhaps, whoever controls the unpredictable tides of weather itself was impatient. The wigwam awaited, who would be the first to enter?
OOC: Enter here. This will establish a posting order. IIC is 48 hours. Within this event, what I create is reality. The rules of NFRP will be the basis of this event, but they will not limit the powers and effects which you encounter herein. Let's make magic happen.