I am interested in playing out a small systemed rpg. It will use the eighties style 'FASERIP' system. Lost of free downloads exist online, but we will not be using the Marvel system for anything other than examples for interesting character ideas. My world will still be very comic styled, but something closer to a mixture of 'Golden Age' comic book themes, being mostly from mythic and legendary sources, but with a good modern 'World of Darkness' or 'Lovecraftian' bend to it.
This world has different levels of magic and power. There are Mundames who cannot even recognize magic. There are Faithful who can not only see but also partake with the Arcane cultures. There are Hedge Mages who are normal people with some knowledge and authority over magic. Then there are the Illuminated like the Magi, powerful beings born of humans seemingly closer to the gods themselves. They can shatter stone with thier hands, command the elements themselves, invoke the names of beings for olympian effects on the world, tailor make rituals to suit thier needs. There are other Illuminated like the fairies, the goblins, the undead, werewolves, and many other mystic cultures to chose from.
Now I can go on and on about the four major powers based on political powers and the elements which rule the Magi; the diplomatic masquerade parties attended by the Magi, the fairies, and the goblins; the werewolves whom are shapechanging exiles from the lands of the farie; or the forces of evil serving the mad tentacled lords as mockeries of life or degenerated reptilian spawn. I dont know want to go on and on, when Im not sure which aspect of this vast world and its very far reaching history you are interested in.
What follows is an aspect of my worlds history. It is a scene when good almost conquered evil. A plague of nephilum were finally dealt with by a universal deluge spoken about in many cultures. With evil at bay, the Magi ruling council withdrew from the world. This is where my world's Eve or Pandora or Darth Vader takes the stage. Give it a read and give my world a chance. This is my world, my Mythopia, my World of Shade and Parable. Rage against the dying of the light of creation.
The Rise of Naamah
The Magi Walk Among Us. (A Prologue)
Man did not drag himself up an evolutionary ladder on the backs of extinct behemoths, the way history would one day be written. Man was an ascended race crafted by the hands of the Creator and placed in a garden universe fully formed. Since the beginning of Man’s history, there have always been those whose fate was to join the Magi, wise men and women imparted with enlightened power over our world. These Gifted are the shepherds of humanity, guarding them from the malicious attentions of the Demogorgon, whose domain of elemental evil was displaced in the glory of creation.
Ages march by with the imperial progress. During the Age of Gemini, a great plague was caused as the Titans and other so called ‘Men of God’ intermingled with the Daughters of Man, the inheritors of the Earthen realm. Their progeny was the Nephilim, who combined arcane power with the authority of a human soul. The Kingdoms of Man were overrun by these and other armies of such unholy power. Even with the protection of the Magi, sacrifices had to be made. A great deluge was called down to cleanse these horrors off the face of the Earth, and awash in these flood waters were dozens of arks, each bearing another culture into the cusp of another Age, the Age of Taurus.
The Aeon, the immortal, Magi ruling aristocracy, had decided to separate the fates of Man and Magi, hiding the memory and wisdom of the Gifted from the recollections of Man. The eternal war with the Demogorgon had cost mortals far too much. Magical laws were set in place to preserve Man’s choice in his own fate and banished the Titans from this relm. Then, to illustrate this new policy, the Aeon set up a democratic form of government among the Enlightened, before withdrawing to seclusion in holy Shambhala. In the chaos of this dawning age, the Magi fell into political strife and it seemed that the fragmenting of its small army of highly talented sorcerers was inevitable. No one realized how much this kind of wise man’s foolishness would cost all of us.
The Role of Wisdom (I)
Sophia was left alone once again. She was the youngest of the Aeon, her and her mate Theletus, were the final members allowed to join the ancient ruling body before passing its power to the Councils of Leo and Taurus and withdrawing into this tomb of universal knowledge. This would seem a cruel description of such a resplendent location loaded with the ancient teachings of the Elders, but it seemed completely apt when viewed from the soft blue eyes of a beautiful, yet lonely woman of such considerable power and learning. Perhaps no one could foresee how the Demogorgon would continue its profane quest to be reunited with and twist creation to its dark designs.
Stepping into the series of conjoined caves carved into green granite, each one with small amounts of magical implements and furnishings set up around a luminescent scrying pool each lit up a different color. Sophia was known as the mother of divination, though this was an unfair tittle. Divinations had existed for centuries before her, but she had done much to uniting the various lore and discovered teachings allowing the tracing of the threads of fate across the millennium the way a man can view into the horizon and see the gathering of storms. Sophia’s very name means wisdom, and her magic seemed fated by her very name to revolve around the vast realm within the mind itself. This pursuit, though, had left her troubled.
Her feet were bare, except for the henna markations which illustrated both her hands and feet with exotic and intricate designs which amplified her authority. She wore a couple of toe rings as well, which glinted as she stepped around the containers of multihued sands she used to cast her readings in the traditions of the East. Her lithe body moved under her light blue tunic with a grace born of hundreds of years of experience in an unaging body. She was a beautiful free spirit with fair skin kissed with freckles, a smile filled with the light of the sun, and wavy hair the color of autumn grains.
“Nereus,” she said with strange, liquid sounding syllables as she summoned her familiar spirit to her side. A vaporous form emerged from one of the nearest pool and seemed to coalesce into the shape of a tiny female figure before dancing through the air and generating enough wind to flutter the multitude of lit candle flames along the walls and roll around small stacks of scrolls. “Prepare for our auguries,” she said with a breathless whisper as she considered. The censors at the cardinal points lit up burning rare herbs as she prepared to call upon the elemental powers of air and water to peer through the maelstrom of time. “I must know more,” Sophia said to herself. It was her driving need as well as her curse to strive to understand everything around her. She had spent weeks in her astral wanderings through the deepest realms just to know a little more about the coming fate of man… but she hadn’t always seemed haunted to know that her omens would be most dire. That was a recent development.
Temptation Pays a Visit (II)
Streaming like a darting vapor from one pool to the other, the tiny marid figure tapped the vitae flowing through the room in glistening ribbons of silvery light. This was the arcing of winter magic, also known as the mysteries, into a tight vortex through which the very future or the distant past could be seen. Sophia fell into a pile in the middle of the spiral arrangement of pools, gasping and shaking as she cried. Her eyes had pierced the far future and seen such grim events as to make her eyes bleed. Gasping in the pain, her hands covered with the blood dripping like the tears of a frightened child from her eyes, Sophia, the great and wise mage aged perfectly by a couple of centuries of wisdom, was reduced to a shattered woman. The chords of her neck could be seen as she gasped for the air faster than she could swallow it.
The familiar ceased the flow of vitae closing down the march of images which had so haunted Sophia’s troubled soul. Flowing over her as a gentle zephyr of a mist, the elemental essence slipped into her body through her breath and vaporized, giving up its corporeal form to help her instantly recover from the rigors of such stressful divinations. Gasping in again as Sophia fully recovered, her eyes now shedding only the crystal clear tears of sorrow. “It… can’t… be,” she whispered, but even as she said the words, the Aeon now knew eminence of the doom of humanity.
“I warned you, yes,” a faded voice seemed to ask. Out of the shadows in the darkest corner of Sophia’s pools of insight, a dark form slowly pushed itself out into the light. The darkness rose and then parted revealing the stately shape of an older, aristocratic woman with alabaster white skin and with very long, heavy, and black garments and hair. Gossamer tendrils of dark lace traced off of her dress, each one drifting as if in a lazy underwater current, yet also seeming to undulate like a frightened eel. The very figure and pallor of the woman seeming to speak at the same time of polar opposites. “You would not believe my words, but you have foreseen with your very eyes. Eyes which have bled from witnessing the violence visited against your own kin. How easily you forget, yes? It is I who warned you.” It was true, there wasn’t much Sophia could do except cry.
Stepping closer and kneeling down onto the ground before the fallen Aeon, the harsh figure tried to soften her features with a smile, as she tried to offer some comfort to Sophia. “I am sorry, my dear. I forget sometimes… about your delicate constitution,” the dark figure said as she reached forward her taloned, bejeweled hand to take Sophia’s henna covered hands comfortingly. The magi tried to push herself away from the figure, still rolling onto her side… the images of the many deaths which would be propagated in the future… none of which would have anything to do with the enemies of creation. Magi had access to so much cosmic power. In fact, if the Gifted had a flaw at all, it was hubris. It was inevitable they would begin to fall into battles with their own kind for the balance of this kind of power. It seemed to be a foregone conclusion from what Sophia could see in the eons ahead.
Finally the damns fell as the troubled sorceress got enough air into her lungs as she lashed out, kicking at the Fallen which had somehow found a way to materialize into her sanctum. She wasn’t supposed to be there… Sophia was supposed to be completely safe. Pushing her way across the floor, she fell onto her back and lashed out instinctively, her senses still blurred in grief. Shouting out words in the tongue of storms, she lashed out with a cutting wind, blowing the Aeon upward and onto her feet again in one graceful, almost balletic arch through the air. “Never. Never talk to me like that again, Agrat,” she screamed out, tears still tracing down her cheeks. She shouldn’t have listened to one word this figure had had to say to her. Each word had been a thorn from a poison plant. It just took awhile before the wound was inflicted.
Though blown across the room, the Fallen seemed eerily unaffected by the whole ordeal. Laying prone on the ground, the black funerary dress that made up her form seemed to reshape and then she simply lifted up onto her own feet again, like a shadow passing over the ground. Its motion seemed about that unnatural. Her very long hair hung in two impenetrable curtains framing her deathly white, statuesque face of cold detachment except for the cut across her cheek lined with droplets of her inky blood. No matter how much emotion seemed to be in her words or her gestures, her face was always only a marble monument of an older woman’s handsome visage. She only stood there and waited as her tattered dress seemed to flow around her on some ghostly current of air. The dark figure tilted her head, perhaps a bit bird-like, as she waited for Sophia to arrive at the only available conclusion.
“Your name...” Sophia spat out between emotional pants, “Agrat Bat Mahlat. It means… Daughter of Lies. There is nothing… nothing you have to say… to say…” She was losing her focus again. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and drew comfort from an infinite moment spent in awe of harmony of the alignment of the stars, the planets, and the sun and what this represented to the tiny world around her. Releasing her breath after only a second, her gaze once more sharpened as they caught hold of the dark figure which had come to call upon her. Before she could speak one more word, though, Agrat finished her sentence for her.
“There is nothing I have to say which you will believe, yes?” She said as she dared to take another step toward Sophia, whose hands were stretched forward for defensive arcane casting. Seeing the vitae filling the air, ready to be called upon, she took a wise side step as the Fallen spoke, trying to get through to Sophia and show her the error of her way. “Where I come from, we are branded with our names from the events which have caused our Fall.” She took another step to one of the pools and traced her fingertips over its surface. Scenes from her past wavered over its still waters as the figure tried to make Sophie lower her guard. There were scenes from a fae wilderness, a war with wolf-like warriors and fungoid giants, as well as a doomed three way relationship from the mists of legend between Titania, Oberon, and Mab. “I have been known to use deception to further my cause, but with you, my dearest, I have never told you one single lie. I didn’t have to,” she said finally no longer circling around the frightened mage anymore as she considered before continuing. “If I had told you one lie, you of all the Gifted, you would have known immediately, yes?”
Sophia wavered in her resolution. She lost much of her power. With her mind and emotions so clouded, the stream of vitae she was tapping to power her castings faded. Without her willpower and authority to keep her manifestations intact, they fell as did Sophia onto her knees. There was no use arguing anymore. The Aeon had lost.
As Sophia glanced up, Agrat had already appeared before her to comfort her from across the room. With the way she could blink through space with the speed of a wavering shadow cast from a candle, the Fallen could be unnerving to be around. For some reason Sophia couldn’t understand, she was completely comfortable and at peace with her. There was nothing threatening about Agrat, in fact, Sophia found herself intrigued by her, for she represented everything that was outside of the circle of the Magi which had gotten so much closer since the Aeons withdrawal from the World of Man. The statuesque and dark figure caressed Sophia’s head as she continued to cry. She fell apart in the arms of her enemy, somehow finding solace in her cold embrace.
The Promise of Insight (III)
Sophia loved knowledge. She seeked the Akashic Records, giant tablets carved with all the knowledge of Man and Magi floating in the endless seas of light and darkness composing the astral realms. She liked to go deeper into these realms than did most, even daring to go further than most Aeon dared to project, for fear of losing their silver cord and so losing their way back to their corporeal form. The soul was the seat of magic, and so was capable of doing incredible feats of resplendent might. The soul still needed a fragile body to which to cling or else it would blink out of existence in our realm like a soap bubble.
She floated purposefully in an ultraviolent portion of the astral realm. The surrounds seemed dominated with this color, with floating ancient ruins of statuary and the tablets floating through the vast, peaceful nothingness of which most of astral space is composed. Ethereal vegetation and life now inhabited these colossi as they migrated beyond time itself. Turning her head, Sophia was checking her silver chord, which seemed to stream out into the eternity behind her without any problems, but it was at that moment Sophia knew she was no longer alone. She spotted the figure of a fellow astral projector, one she had never seen before. Instantly, Sophia had to respect someone able to pierce the veil this deeply. She waved at the figure shyly. This was how she first met the woman she would come to know as Agrat Bat Mahlat.
From then on, the projection seemed to show up from time to time wherever Sophia was for months after this. It took her awhile to warm up to the fellow astral traveler. The Aeon were an ancient order, and her being the youngest member meant she had very little in common with them anymore. Left alone for most of her life, it was inevitable that she would begin to desire meeting with the sojourner whom had haunted some of her more adventurous quests for knowledge. Sophia arranged a series of cryptic meetings with the phantom figure, each one only lasting long enough to ask a few questions and perhaps make a few statements. Sophia was finding this all very intriguing. She spent the days between their meetings figuring out new questions and puzzling out new aspects of her mysterious new friend. She had discovered several secrets about her past. She had been one of the Faen, the fairies of legend from their own facet of creation. She had been a noble of considerable power. She was, like Sophia, very gifted in the Arts of Divination and the mind.
In another of their meetings, they were in the orange area of the astral realm, floating over a huge chunk of an ancient menagerie of exotic statuary. Vines which gave off their own soft green luminescence ringed them as the two astral whips used the courtyard as a reference point over which to float. Sophia had asked her very cleaver question and discovered that her friend had had a painful, yet very long relationship she was still recovering from. Now it was her turn to ask Sophia a question, but instead, the mysterious figure had a surprise revelation for her.
“I have foreseen your future, Sophia. The leaders of the Gifted you so believed in for your entire life and have left in control of the Resplendent Councils will turn against each other. Your family and those of your closest mortal friends (the Oracles, yes?) will suffer the worst for these battles being waged Magi against Magi. What is worse is in the end, when those whom have led for the longest are most desperately needed (you know of whom I speak, yes?), they shall betray not only the Magi but Creation itself. They shall be the authors of the Apocalypse to come. Look far enough into the future and you will see the truth of my words.”
Sophia’s mouth fell open. She dared not look ahead too far. It was known that eventually creation would unmake itself, the task of the Magi was to make this time as long as possible to give humanity its opportunity. It was hoped that Man would find his own enlightenment eventually and meet the Magi on equal terms so that Man and Magi could transcend together to a more divine realm. She didn’t want to lose her will from seeing too far beyond her keen. This was a common ailment among the greatest of diviners. Sophia had had to consider on many an occasion how far was too far for someone immortal like her. These brash statements cut her to the bone. She couldn’t recover herself completely. Her whispy image wavered as she balked, barely able to keep her ritualistic concentration to maintain her astral body.
Her countenance fallen, Sophia was just about to recover enough to respond to these disturbing revelations, when Agrat continued. “I have foreseen these events, and if you dare to search the temporal horizon, you will see them as well. All of this will happen without the interference of the Demogorgon, yes? I know this because I am their herald, sent here to make you a once in an eternity offer.” Sophia balked. How could have she been so foolish. Knowing the danger a cultist of the Demogorgon represented, she blinked out her astral form immediately, recovering anchored spiritually and naturally to her own body safe within her own sanctuary. There was much to do.
Sweet Offerings (IV)
“Lovely Sophia,” Agrat said as she stroked her long, clawed fingers through her hair. The girl was so unnerved it was easy for her to implant a maternal aspect within herself. Even a great and mighty Aeon could be weak sometimes. “Your mate, Theletus, his name means perfection, right? He spends every hour of his immortal life finding more to be perfect about, but he spends none of his vast time with you. Here you are, by yourself.” Sophia let herself be held as if she were a child once more. It had been so long since she had been taken care of this way by anyone.
Touching her chin, the Fallen led Sophia to look up at herself as she held the troubled sorceress. “You are alone and abandoned as the lowest of the Aeon, an afterthought added to their distinguished gathering just before closing their membership for eternity, yes? What if I were to tell you, by my side, you would be rewarded for your wisdom. You will be the greatest of our number. You will never be alone and your deepest and most secret wishes will be fulfilled. You will know such pleasures and emotions as to exceed even your lifetime of discipline and mental prowless.”
Finding herself drawn in, Sophia could only watch on as the admitted herald of the Demogorgon began to spin her offering. It horrified her that she was so calm and accepting of this, she should have been running away in fear, but for now, she found her loyalty to the Magi, even the foolish wise men of the Aeon, strained. She trembled as Agrat’s hand touched her thigh soothingly. It had been over a century since anyone had touched her this way. After everything she had been through in the last couple of months or so, she felt closer to this strange woman than anyone else in the philosophical solitude of her life.
“I can’t. I… we left them. To help them.” The small amount of loyalty and protest she could summon was brought to the front. They had left Man in an infantile state, after supposedly removing most of the threats to his existence. If the Demogorgon was to be brought back into the Earthen realm, then Man would be woefully undefended, except by the benevolent guardianship of the Magi, whom she was beginning to doubt more and more.
Gently taking her hand, Agrat softly kissed it and then brought it up to the side of her face as she spoke comfortingly to the troubled mage. “Perhaps the Magi need an enemy, to keep themselves from killing each other in their Hubris. There must be some cosmic purpose for the Demogorgon, since the Creator left such a snake inside of his garden. Man will need be be shown his place in this world, you know his nature. He will pollute and overrun this world. The Magi have taken to the shadows, and so this will leave only the Demogorgon to teach Man what he must learn.” Reaching forward, the Fallen ran her fingers through Sophia’s hair as only her mother once had. “You know the truth of this, yes? You have foreseen.”
Sophia could only cry. She wanted this. The emptiness of her new ascended station weighed heavily on her. The sweet promises of the older soul relaxed her in a way she could never explain with all of her lifetime of oratory experience. What she said made too much sense. Sophia had never imagined this kind of interdepence between such diametricly opposite cosmic forces before. It took all of her strength to shake her head in protest. She still wanted to do what was right.
Leaning over even closer, Agrat whispered the most damning promises she could have made right then. “I can promise you revenge. All you have seen will come to pass. We cannot change these currents of fate, but I promise you, we will punish the Council of Leo for these crimes you have foreseen. Even the Council of Taurus will suffer for their complacency, but those who will turn their backs on their promises to the Magi at the end of times will especially bear witness to the glory of our return,” she said in a light, delicious tone. Sophia closed her eyes as she heard these words. For the first time her breath calmed down. This seemed to be the final offering which seemed to swing the balance of their emotional encounter. Gently kissing her soft, youthful lips, the Fallen leaned back as she said the final words Sophia needed to herald. “And it will be your name that your enemies will tremble before, yes?”
As the kiss broke, Sophia finally gave in with the heaviest of sighs. “I will join you. There is nothing for me here anymore.” It was almost achingly shocking how cold she felt in that moment. She had turned away from her humanity and her world and everything she had ever known and this left her feeling hollow inside. In so doing, though, she had given up all the barriers and rules and taboos she had been restricted by her entire life as a seer. The experience left her feeling strangely liberated and her being felt alighted in giving up such a spiritual burden. “What is it that I must do?”
Agrat Bat Mahlat took the former Aeon into her dark embrace. Her hair and her garments with their trailing tendrils completely surrounding the young woman, the twosome fading into the shadows as the Fallen took her prize deep into the Abyss in which the Demogorgon lived. Along the way, the herald answered the new initiate’s question. “You will be the eternal progenitor of a new generation of Nephilim. You will be known by a new name we shall give you in love, Naamah. We will be married to a new mate, Bythos, and all of the Damned who will be born throughout the ages will respect you and call you mother with love.”
As she clung to the darkling shape which moved her through the empty folds of space, the fallen Aeon could only smile warmly. Everything she heard sounded so wonderful. She would live for eternity leading the Hosts against the pompous Magi to her dark heart’s content. The last whisper was what Naamah loved hearing, especially from the lips of such a strong and ancient soul as Agrat’s. “You will never be alone. This is what you wanted, yes?” As the cavernous heart of the Demogorgon enclosed around them, the powerful form of Bythos arose from the depths to greet her.
Hopefully much more to come.
Wow. If you made it this far, then congradulations. I know it was a lengthy and detailed work. Most people cant get through it. Disappointing, really, since I concider it my best work. I am looking to roleplay out aspects of my world. I will use the Marvel Super Hero System, the old version, to set effects and such. There are problems, so I will be using other systems, mostly the Mythic system mechanics to troubleshoot these as they occur. These use similar mechanics, charts, layered effects. There has to be females... no story seems interesting if almost half the players arent female. Even if we only play a PG-13 rating, something about females just deepens the story. I hope you are interested in exploring my world and seeing just where we can take this with such a venerable and rich system as Marvel as well as the Mystic system's GM emulator under our arm. Imagine a world populated by such early heros as Captain Marvel, Wonder Woman, or Isis. No science or mutation, but magic which drives every plot and every device. Even Superman is a Jewish mythic character, a melding of Hercules and Moses, is perfect for this world, sans the bs about Krypton, rockets, and gravity and filling in with more a fallen Olympus or something. There are no limitations and we can play as powerfully or as close to mortal as desired. I wouldnt even mind a mixed group with a couple of Faithful, a Hedge Mage, and an Illuminated or two. Or maybe a fairy or lycanthrope. I can find someplace in my world for you. Just let me know what kind of legend you want to be a part of. I hope to hear from you soon and thank you in advance for your interest.