Princes of the Universe

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Ford Prefect
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Princes of the Universe

Post by Ford Prefect »

This was a universe proposal I made relatively recently on OZ, and I felt like bring it here. Whether I do anything further with it, I don't know, but I just wanted to lay it on O1. No big.


In the worlds before Monkey, primal chaos reigned. Heavens sought order. But the phoenix can fly only when its feathers are grown. The four worlds formed again and yet again, as endless aeons wheeled and passed. Time and the pure essences of Heaven, the moisture of the Earth, the powers of the Sun and the Moon all worked upon a certain rock, old as creation. And it became magically fertile. That first egg was named "Thought". Tathagata Buddha, the Father Buddha, said, "With our thoughts, we make the World". Elemental forces caused the egg to hatch. From it came a stone monkey. The nature of Monkey was irrepressible!

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was Fire.
- Invictus



The universe is endless and ancient. Stars flicker and die by the billion, galaxies wheels amongst the cosmos like an endless swarm of fireflies. Worlds and civilisations are transient, forming, birthing life and faltering in the blink of a cosmic eye. The universe breathes, unknowing, and some grasp its breath, called Prana, and bend it to their own purposes. On the world of Sahn, they call this power theurgy. It is the expression of will, the power to shatter the heavens and uncover the very secrets of existence. Across centuries, learned scholars and other sagely beings have unlocked mystery after mystery, breaking them apart into facts and information, gathering this knowledge into untold mastery over the natural order. History is short, but progress is strong, as life exceeded its limitations, surpassed evolution and brought about unnatural selection. Sahn is choked, her skies patrolled by innumerable spinships, her continents crisscrossed by roads and rails, her oceans and seas plied by all manner of boat and ship. Glorious cities glitter in the night, with streets walked by mechanical men and the underground stalked by undead automata. Gods bow and scrape and are brought to their knees, bound by mortal will. Matter flows from one form to the next on command, and spiritual power can be mass produced by industry of nations built upon willpower and the raw force of creation.

Dominion

Sahn is ruled. Sapient life being so fractional, this total dominion is split amongst dozens, hundreds, thousands of tribes and kingdoms and empires. Of these, a handful rise above the rest, towering giants, titans unassailable. Their existence is almost assured, so sprawling, so powerful that they are social juggernauts.

The Herzoreach is one of the blossoms of Humankind, ruled from the Lion Court, its sprawling citadels and cosmopolitan signatory states protected by the stalwart forces of the Most Excellent Order of Rittermen. Born from the collimation of scores of hereditary fiefdoms by the signing of the binding Marga Herzoreach, it has grown to encompass increasingly larger numbers of signatories. A hegemony, the Herzoreach assimilates its members through a spreading of cultural unity, economic stability and utmost safety. By immersing and integrating a new culture in the benefits the Herzoreach brings, its science and technology, its industrial power and economic might; providing new schools, new avenues for local business to expand, better roads and architectural techniques, the old society can be quickly lost, leaving only the merest remnants of what once was – with only faces and old buildings to hint at the independent society that once existed.

Refugees from the Herzoreach are the Ivory Circle, a group of theurges long since exiled for the practices of necromancy – or rather, politically unfavourable necromancy. Driven to the fringes of civilisation, these skilled masters of death, struck their own civilisation into history, built upon the backs of mindless undead labour and kept secure by the power of their personal Ritterlords, among the most supreme of mortals. Their skittering, chitinous machines are said to operate on principles removed from those of the rest of the world, powered by Od, the very elemental force of the soul.

Seemingly contrary to the Herzoreach is the Timurad it shares borders with. A federation formed by ancient alliance between races, it praises and encourages cultural diversity while providing the protection and advancement expected of a superpower – all provided by the original alliance: The Cordoba, a species whose origins are whispered to lie in ancient, modified fighting dogs, stand loyal and firm in the defence of their adopted nations and have not once threatened or hinted at the withdrawal of their formidable strength from the Timurad; the men and women of the Aquilan Eyries, who have made their business, life and home the skies; the once nomadic nation of the Themuric Dynasty, who came out of the deserts and plains to make peace with their former enemies and help found the Timurad; and the peaceful Danvas, said to be related to large and powerful races from elsewhere in the world, whose moderate hand has proven to be vital in the continuing existence of the Timurad. However, all is not well; though there is freedom in the sense that members are self-governing, independent parts of a greater whole, as opposed to culturally unified states, dissent runs through the internal dialogue of some nations. There is an inequality at work, where the four original members of the alliance carry so much more power and influence that new states can be essentially locked out of the decision making process. Of these dissenting nations, the two with the most growing power are the Convocation of Nephilim, a theocratic society founded by ancient theurges, and the Scarlet Heterarchy, an attempted clade formed from a partly-scaled sub-genus of the sharp eared Spriggan.

However, the Spriggan of the Heterarchy are only a small subset of their greater species, and that alone is enough to drive shame into their collective heart of hearts. For the Spriggan are a race created by another, like clay spun by a potter; the product of a Fomorian mind in ages past as living weapons. Though the Fomor are wise and powerful, no member of their species could ever be called ‘wholly good’, and the mind behind the Spriggan could be said to be diseased. Though fair of shape and long-lived, though adaptable and intelligent, though resourceful and cunning, the Spriggan are – almost as a whole – devious and destructive. They lead travellers astray, depopulate towns in pointless acts of extreme violence and exact blood vengeance for the merest slights. Their kind, as a whole, possess theurgic ability that in many cases rivals the best of the rest of the world. Worse still, an entire sub-genus of Spriggan are blighted, struck with a carcinoma known as the Nihilicyst, which in high enough concentrations can twist even the fundaments of reality. Already horrific killers, these viral Spriggan are further depraved, their only desire to spread, infect and destroy.

Farther out from the Herzoreach and the Timurad lies a looming presence; the barely human Infinite Empire of Iraer. It is a dark bureaucracy, a hyper-confucianist state kept in motion by armies of hereditary, immortal clerks. The populace are parts to a puzzle that is in a constant process of understanding and reworking, mechanical precision in life required to meet the laws of the universe as the Imperial Bureaucracy sees them, in a vain attempt to bring good fortune upon their empire. Ruled by the Emperor and Empress, from the central city of the Imperial Palace, the Imperial Family provides a façade of divine perfection, a life in the constant grip of rules and traditions and requirements. However, there is unrest within, as internal forces conflict and threaten to tear Iraer apart. Princes and princesses, their servants, secret colleges of scribes … whether the Emperor can hold them all in check, or indeed if he even wants to, none can say. If the populace labours under false hope, they must only look upon the golden armies and shadowy assassins at the command of the Imperial household to know that the fall of the Infinite Empire means their own death.

Vastly less unified than these domains are the various clans of ogre-like Oni that populate mountains and highlands across Sahn. Though very large and brutish in appearance, they are for the most part a peaceable race, though when angered they are practically forces of nature. Powerful Oni stride the continents in search of mercenary work, either alone or in groups, and they seem almost as proliferate as Humankind. Though they do not have a uniform culture or society, and despite incredible wanderlust, they are still social creatures and form stable tribes and clades, settling in any land they see fit. However, like the Spriggan a terrible shadow hangs over them; in their opinion, too many Oni have been taken by the mysterious blight stalking Sahn.

However, it is said that even these great civilisations are transient, their existences only borrowed, not assured. And indeed, Sahn is a world where personal power can overcome even the greatest of foe. For while the various kingdoms and empires and hegemonies fear each other, they also fear the Godbloods. Seemingly chosen at random or at the whims of the universe, these mortals are granted some measure of universal radiance, born to be kings and killers. By their providence have nations stood and nations fallen. Their birth can never be predicted, and the manner behind their creation is a mystery to even the Fomor. They are feared, yet in equal measure they are worshipped, as kingdom and empire and hegemony desperately tries to win the favour of one of these wilful individuals, and thus win for their nation a measure of incredible power.

Supermodified

The sophonts of Sahn have overcome the constraints imposed by nature. Through the arcane sciences, they have unlocked methods by which unusual or practically impossible feats can be attained by even the most mundane of mortals. Combined with the power of will and the drive to surpass one’s own limitations, these techniques have allowed for those without natural theurgic talent to stand firm in the face of challenge or danger.

Seemingly the most common of modifications, chimerism is the means by which organic material is integrated into a body, or changed at a base level. Chimerism is highly popular as it allows for significant aesthetic changes to one’s physical baseline, even without incorporating the aspects of other species, or incorporating the drastically altered physiological advantages of other species. Multiple limbs, prehensile toes, electrocytes; seemingly anything is possible and it is popular with the rich attempting to give themselves unique physiologies to shock and awe their rivals. The organic engineering required for chimeristic modifications has led to the ability to replicate bodyparts from vats, and once one can do that, it is child’s play to create an entire person from scratch. Homunculi are artificially created sophonts derived either from a person’s genetic information and supplied with memory engrams sucked telepathically from the subjects mind, or otherwise completely original beings tailored from the ground up. However, not all applications of chimerism are wondrous; many live in fear of being warped by the dark science of prypiatism. Awful are the twisted apparitions crafted by this ‘art’, limbs melting like wax into new shapes, faces stretched into silent screams across new backs and chests, bodies sprouting new maws and hands and heads, as well as other less identifiable apendages.

Chimerism is most common for wilful changes to one’s physiology, or otherwise forced mutation into prypiat beasts, for those that have suffered grievous injury, more common is bionic symbiosis with the mechanical. The integration and operation of mechanistic prostheses is a combination of more than one art; robotics, cognitive mathematics, the binding of small gods, chimerism. In many ways, this symbiosis is more strange and wonderful than any piece of organic engineering. Minds become linked to analytical engines through electrodes, to spread across networks of telegraph wires and wireless communiqués. Whole bodies, either through choice or through calamity, can become steadily replaced by increasingly complex pieces of machinery, their intelligence being split and duplicated amongst identical mechanical dolls. Closely entwined with the sciences behind automata, bionics and computing have given rise to ghosts of intelligence, strange mathematical brains distributed across the face of Sahn; many are the stories of benign cities walking across the world, maintained by originless machines and home to any that wish to cohabit there.

However, premiere amongst the arts of modification is theurgy itself. It would take an age to describe in detail the number and nature of all theurgic edges, as everyday it seems more are created or discarded or altered. They permeate the very fabric of society, etched into the very stone beneath ones feet, and inscribed into bone and armour and weapon of millions of men and women across the world. It is by edge and determination that a mundane mortal can reach towards the power of a theurge; some rich mercenary captains combine this with bionics or other chimeric enhancements in order to fully endear themselves to the din of battle. Mass produced edges flow like water from the factories of great polities, forming baseline sophonts into the supernatural.

Godblood

It is a well known fact that although people die, they’re technically not supposed to. In fact, for roughly a century or two some time in the past, people didn’t die. The flow of time ran from one’s back like a quiet stream. No violence could prematurely end your existence. For roughly a century or two, true immortality existed. The reason? The reason was the now Lady Minardi who, for her own personal satisfaction, killed death.

Minardi was, and still is, a Godblood, and though fated to some unknown higher purpose beyond the ken of god or enlightened mortal, she loved as a woman might. At the time, she was among the most desirable of all women to have trod the face of Sahn, and her suitors were many. Tales abounded of her impossible demands of would-be lovers, seemingly plucked from the imagination at whim. Indeed, it would seem that many of these tasks were essentially impossible. As time wore on, most men began to acknowledge that no matter how impossibly beautiful, attempting to impress a woman who spent most of her spare time finding the vastest of monstrosities to kill, or the occasional nation to collapse was not conductive to a happy future. As the years wore on, the number of suitors dwindled until there were only two left.

The first was Orlando sa Markas, who was, essentially, a ne’er-do-well aristocrat who, despite coming from a family with an economic situation only marginally better than your average patch of mud, possessed a stubborn streak massive enough to accommodate a small planet. For every unusual task Minardi gave him, Orlando would rise to the task and return with more or less what she asked for. When Minardi asked her suitors to bring her a piece of the sun, Orlando offered her Sahn itself. When Minardi asked the hopefuls to put her name into the sky, Orlando invented the aeroplane and dot-matrix skywriting at the same time.

Her other suitor was death itself. One cannot truly fathom the reasoning behind this, of course, though there are many theories: some say that Minardi was a prolific killer, maybe death was impressed. Others say that perhaps her ability to avoid death drove it mad with desire, and it was further driven to claim her. In any case, even Orlando sa Markas’ legendary stubbornness could not hold off death.

Orlando’s sudden and unwarranted death angered Minardi considerably. As is almost always the way, Minardi did not know she was in love until far too late, and so could only act upon it for revenge. Death received a sound, metaphorical thrashing and then had its metaphorical head torn right off.

And then, no one died.

However, the story does not end there, because while it is a known fact that for a century or two, no Sahnan could possibly die, nor did death exist for anything else, people can die now. The reason? The now Lady Minardi looked upon the world stuffed with the immortal, and determined what she saw was not good, and so imposed that there be death in the universe once more.


From the introduction, ‘Notes on Godbloods, Third Edition’

Only this time, death has one gorgeous ass!

From the margin, in a Paladin National University copy of ‘Notes on Godbloods, Third Edition’

The tale of Lady Minardi, now the undisputed mistress of death, is a rather extreme example of the general mayhem that the entities known as Godbloods are capable of proliferating. The name is curious, because no god would claim these creature to be one of their own, nor does anyone with their head screwed on straight believe the gods have ever had anything to do with the Godbloods, except the occasional violent confrontation. In truth, it is likely that the gods take tales like Minardi’s as being cautionary – their celestial bureaucracy keeps the cosmos running, but it is clear that mortals could take over these roles, if they were so inclined. It is likely that they strongly fear the fact that they are essentially obsolete, and their continued existence is bought only because what they do works, and that sophonts do not care enough to bother to change this.

Like the origins of theurgy, no one is quite sure where Godbloods come from. The most common theory is that Godbloods are created by mortal willpower, much like theurgy. However, there is no confirmed connection between Godbloods and theurgy – though the former can replicate the latter, theurgy has never really allowed a mortal to reach quite the same heights of a Godblood. Though at times it is not so obvious, the Godbloods are set apart. Truth be told, not many people would say with a straight face what sets them apart from the gold ichor, though it is a popular rumour that they are fated to something, which seems to be the claim of more than one Godblood. When pressed (which is dangerous in some cases) they will say they have no idea quite what that means, and brush it off.

What is known is that Godbloods can be extremely valuable if you can bend them to your cause. Because Godbloods actually qualify as exceptionally rare, they can be considered a potential national resource. ‘Acquiring’ a new one can alter the fortunes of even a superpower, and ultimately change the course of history. In the Timurad, for example, it is of paramount importance to gather as many Godbloods in order to increase their standing amongst ally nations; after all, that’s just enforcing some citizen ship, not building a new fleet of combat spinships. Naturally ‘enforcing citizenship’ on the kind of person who can snap a spinship in half is a task which quite aptly qualifies as ‘more easily said than done’.

In any case, they are forces to be reckoned with. They have no true allegiance but to themselves; whatever higher calling them might have is so unknown it leaves them to follow their own whims and desires. As should be obvious, great power does not come with great responsibility attached.
Last edited by Ford Prefect on Wed Dec 10, 2008 1:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
FEEL THESE GUNS ARCHWIND THESE ARE THE GUNS OF THE FLESHY MESSIAH THE TOOLS OF CREATION AND DESTRUCTION THAT WILL ENACT THE LAW OF MAN ACROSS THE UNIVERSE
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Peregrin
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Re: Princes of the Universe

Post by Peregrin »

Have you changed anything from the last edition of the write-up you did? I'm too lazy to check. :P
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Ford Prefect
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Re: Princes of the Universe

Post by Ford Prefect »

I have included the name of the mysterious infection infecting some Spriggan - the Nihilicyst.
FEEL THESE GUNS ARCHWIND THESE ARE THE GUNS OF THE FLESHY MESSIAH THE TOOLS OF CREATION AND DESTRUCTION THAT WILL ENACT THE LAW OF MAN ACROSS THE UNIVERSE
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Peregrin
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Re: Princes of the Universe

Post by Peregrin »

"Nihilicyst" would make an awesome band name. 8-)
"You could not step twice into the same river; for other waters are ever flowing on to you." - Heraclitus
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Re: Princes of the Universe

Post by Mobius 1 »

Nice to see PotU back, as we'd all like to see what happens when/if you get verse, Ford. This and NEW TLW Show You Our Fates awesomeness, you've got your work cut out for you.
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Ford Prefect
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Re: Princes of the Universe

Post by Ford Prefect »

Actually, that's something which I'll have to shuffle around New The Logical World is GAR in the extreme, and so I don't want to make PotU like that, as such. It will have shades of the power of badassery, but will be more reasonable in that regard. No cutting skyscrapers in half just because you're that badass, for example.
FEEL THESE GUNS ARCHWIND THESE ARE THE GUNS OF THE FLESHY MESSIAH THE TOOLS OF CREATION AND DESTRUCTION THAT WILL ENACT THE LAW OF MAN ACROSS THE UNIVERSE
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Re: Princes of the Universe

Post by Magister Militum »

Its nice to see that you're reviving this idea, Ford. I'd personally like to see more of it.
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