So this is actually the idea for a potential tabletop campaign. It's probably never going to happen so I might as well spew it here.
We enter the Bright Lady's meeting room. The private one; no more are we rank-and-file, to be addressed from the Radiant Throne. After the bestowing of Her Gifts, we are shining with Her grace; we are her Immortals. She beams at us.
"Brilliant. I hope you are all enjoying your newfound power. You will need it in the trials ahead."
"We are ready, my Lady," says Owain, dutifully, "what would you ask of us?"
Her benevolent smile brightens for a moment, before suddenly fading as She speaks, "It is my children. You may or may not be aware of them already. They have... they are... their time is up. I have failed, as matriarch, and it is time to clean up my mistakes. For this duty, you have been selected, my most devoted, most dedicated, and most skilled disciples."
One or two of us shift uneasily. It isn't pleasant hearing your god admit to failure, no matter how devoted you are to them. I risk a question, "My Lady... How could we possibly compare to ones borne from Your power?"
She comes over to me and rests reassuring hands on my shoulders. They seem impossibly warm, as if even Her fingertips are capable of a loving embrace, "Your doubt is understandable, but I ask you trust in the Gifts I have provided. I know my children, and I know that you are capable of this task."
She turns away, collecting herself for a moment before once again addressing us all, "My children... For those of you who may not be aware, there are five of them. Each was supposed to be an extension of my will, an expression of my grace... Alas, it is never so easy. Your task is to find and kill each of them. Yes, I know... Believe me, this is not an easy order for me to give. I also ask you to bring me a piece of each, partly as proof that the deed is done, but also because I believe I can use their residual power to enhance my Gifts to you.
"My Firstborn thinks Himself a god of war. He knows nothing of it; never has He seen a baggage train, managed the logistics of a frontline, orchestrated a battle plan... no, He is merely a god of violence. I am told He spends His days in His own fighting pits, looking for worthy challengers. With my Gifts, you may turn out to be just that. Bring me His heart. It surely beats with the strength of a warrior. I will grant that strength to you.
"My Secondborn... My only daughter... She showed such promise. She styled Herself after me, aspiring to become Her own kind of matriarch. She soon realised She was far more interested in the prelude to motherhood. It didn't take long for Her to grow bored of that, and begin seeking further pleasures. Her city now stands as a fortress of hedonism, a pit of debauchery. The delights within are fit to enrapture a mortal mind. Thankfully, you are no longer mortal, at least in body. Perhaps that is enough. Her liver must be either incredibly strong or incredibly damaged. Either way, I am sure I could put it to good use.
"Ah, the Thirdborn. Was it middle-child syndrome, perhaps? Or was He always this way? There were worrying signs early in His life, but of course they only appear as such in retrospect. His work should be familiar to any of you who have had the misfortune to be assigned to the northern patrols; His monstrous abominations continue to spread across the taiga. Quite where He gets enough bodies to create such beings - and, for that matter, to build and maintain His flesh-castle - is a mystery to me. If you could uncover the explanation for this on your way to Him, I would most appreciate it. And from Him, take His brain, twisted though it may be.
"My Fourthborn... the stillborn... it still hurts to think about Him. Had I known that he could recover... Alas, what is done is done. Now His hatred fuels Him, and I fear that will make Him the most dangerous of my children. Thankfully, it also means He stands alone; no city, no castle, no kingdom, no people. This, of course, also mean I have little-to-no intelligence on Him. You shall have to find Him yourself. I trust in your ability to do so. When you do, boil away his flesh, and bring me his bones. Bleached, ideally, though I appreciate you may not be able to do that in the field.
"My Fifthborn, finally coming of age. The only one of my children to not openly oppose me. He thinks that, by keeping His sinister treachery secret, He is safer for it. He is wrong. Seek Him to the south-east, in the city of Cerulea. Beware: he is a guest in that city, and under their protection. I would rather you did not cause a diplomatic incident. He has put His lungs to such excellent use... I must have them."
Note that the above introduction of each child isn't how it was supposed to be - they're meant to be introduced one by one, linearly, as the players defeat each prior child. Oh well, it still kinda works.
ProfCupcake t1_j28cnxi wrote
Reply to [CW] Write that idea you've been thinking of for the past day or few days. Just spew it onto the screen. But don't edit other than spelling and grammar, proof read once and correct those mistakes. Then post it. by qBlaine
So this is actually the idea for a potential tabletop campaign. It's probably never going to happen so I might as well spew it here.
We enter the Bright Lady's meeting room. The private one; no more are we rank-and-file, to be addressed from the Radiant Throne. After the bestowing of Her Gifts, we are shining with Her grace; we are her Immortals. She beams at us.
"Brilliant. I hope you are all enjoying your newfound power. You will need it in the trials ahead."
"We are ready, my Lady," says Owain, dutifully, "what would you ask of us?"
Her benevolent smile brightens for a moment, before suddenly fading as She speaks, "It is my children. You may or may not be aware of them already. They have... they are... their time is up. I have failed, as matriarch, and it is time to clean up my mistakes. For this duty, you have been selected, my most devoted, most dedicated, and most skilled disciples."
One or two of us shift uneasily. It isn't pleasant hearing your god admit to failure, no matter how devoted you are to them. I risk a question, "My Lady... How could we possibly compare to ones borne from Your power?"
She comes over to me and rests reassuring hands on my shoulders. They seem impossibly warm, as if even Her fingertips are capable of a loving embrace, "Your doubt is understandable, but I ask you trust in the Gifts I have provided. I know my children, and I know that you are capable of this task."
She turns away, collecting herself for a moment before once again addressing us all, "My children... For those of you who may not be aware, there are five of them. Each was supposed to be an extension of my will, an expression of my grace... Alas, it is never so easy. Your task is to find and kill each of them. Yes, I know... Believe me, this is not an easy order for me to give. I also ask you to bring me a piece of each, partly as proof that the deed is done, but also because I believe I can use their residual power to enhance my Gifts to you.
"My Firstborn thinks Himself a god of war. He knows nothing of it; never has He seen a baggage train, managed the logistics of a frontline, orchestrated a battle plan... no, He is merely a god of violence. I am told He spends His days in His own fighting pits, looking for worthy challengers. With my Gifts, you may turn out to be just that. Bring me His heart. It surely beats with the strength of a warrior. I will grant that strength to you.
"My Secondborn... My only daughter... She showed such promise. She styled Herself after me, aspiring to become Her own kind of matriarch. She soon realised She was far more interested in the prelude to motherhood. It didn't take long for Her to grow bored of that, and begin seeking further pleasures. Her city now stands as a fortress of hedonism, a pit of debauchery. The delights within are fit to enrapture a mortal mind. Thankfully, you are no longer mortal, at least in body. Perhaps that is enough. Her liver must be either incredibly strong or incredibly damaged. Either way, I am sure I could put it to good use.
"Ah, the Thirdborn. Was it middle-child syndrome, perhaps? Or was He always this way? There were worrying signs early in His life, but of course they only appear as such in retrospect. His work should be familiar to any of you who have had the misfortune to be assigned to the northern patrols; His monstrous abominations continue to spread across the taiga. Quite where He gets enough bodies to create such beings - and, for that matter, to build and maintain His flesh-castle - is a mystery to me. If you could uncover the explanation for this on your way to Him, I would most appreciate it. And from Him, take His brain, twisted though it may be.
"My Fourthborn... the stillborn... it still hurts to think about Him. Had I known that he could recover... Alas, what is done is done. Now His hatred fuels Him, and I fear that will make Him the most dangerous of my children. Thankfully, it also means He stands alone; no city, no castle, no kingdom, no people. This, of course, also mean I have little-to-no intelligence on Him. You shall have to find Him yourself. I trust in your ability to do so. When you do, boil away his flesh, and bring me his bones. Bleached, ideally, though I appreciate you may not be able to do that in the field.
"My Fifthborn, finally coming of age. The only one of my children to not openly oppose me. He thinks that, by keeping His sinister treachery secret, He is safer for it. He is wrong. Seek Him to the south-east, in the city of Cerulea. Beware: he is a guest in that city, and under their protection. I would rather you did not cause a diplomatic incident. He has put His lungs to such excellent use... I must have them."
Note that the above introduction of each child isn't how it was supposed to be - they're meant to be introduced one by one, linearly, as the players defeat each prior child. Oh well, it still kinda works.