L. Marcus

"And if the God of Peace offers you a snack, you will..." 
"Decline politely..." The female voice with nary a twitch of amusement.
 
"And if the goddess of Lust invites you to a party.... you will..."
"Decline politely." Was that an eye roll, surely not, "otherwise it could lead to dancing."
"And if the God of Wisdom starts talking to you for too long you will?"
"Make excuses and go before he starts to make way too much sense and I end up doing too many boring practical things."
"Good girl."
"Father, I'm not a girl anymore. I sprang from your head fully grown, remember?"
"Oh, about that... do not mention that to the goddess of War... for some reason she might consider it stepping on her terrain."
"She's the goddess of Migraine Genesis too?"
"It's complicated."
"Father, was I really born that way? Because if some woman, be she mortal or goddess is my real mother I don't mind. It might be nice to have a mother."
"Nope, all from up here. You don't want a mother, trust me. Nagging creatures, always hovering about. Real control freak types. Now... what about the other gods?"
A sigh, "I am not supposed to let the god  of crafts show me his etchings, nor the God of Winter show me his runes. I'm to focus on my tasks."
"Which is?"
"Helping you make sure Magic is respected, both by those who would challenge it, and those who would abuse it...really father, about that, some of these rules are quite arbitrary."
"how so?"
"Don't like it...zap it. Do like it, leave it be?"
"Sounds right to me.... no seriously, check the invisible magical writing on back side."
"Oh! okay, that does make more sense... ooo, okay. yes I can see why you'd want to nix that... and...what's this about dividing the Universe's true name by zero?"
"Anyone trying that has to get both my and the god of math's approval."
"Why would anyone..."
"I don't know, but I try to plan ahead."
"Okay, fine, i think I have it now. Don't worry father, I shall be your right hand of destruction and wonder combined,,.. while you focus on your fancies and dreams and so on I shall test many on your behalf."
"Excellent. Be well, my daughter. Go forth in my name. For you are my daughter, the Guardian of Magic's might and honor! You are.... Arcania!"
"Is it too late to change my name?"
"yes."
Sigh "Okay."
 
Mythic Guardian Pick: Demi Godess Arcania who crushes those that would threaten magic itself or attempt to usurp it and has been told she can't date until she's at least 3000.

Porkbellies. I knew it. I knew it!

The God of Magic was rather put out. He had slept for a bit, it was true, but it seemed great liberties had been taken. Folks claiming obviously magical things weren't REALLY magical , whole sections in other religious texts putting words in his mouth as if he some bit character instead of an equal member of the pantheon,, and even things recognized as magical were often taken liberties with unless he sat another god down and had a chat. The Dream passage had been part of his original plan, and one race that transformed itself was tolerable as it was quite clever. But still...
Where was the respect?
 
He was indeed a reclusive sort for all his resplendence, but that didn't mean he was devoid of feelings. And after he'd been so nice as to give many races an edge in one magic or another? (Who would have thought they would just keep coming, by the gods the Gods were fond of making audiences) so he glowered.
 
Why they hadn't even asked him his name. Not that he'd give his true one, but he did have a use name besides 'God of Magic". Just no one had bothered to ask.
 
It was Faserip Augustus Vance, if you must know.
 
But all this had him feeling a bit grumpy and sorry for himself.
 
He almost didn't notice the prayer.
 
"Lord of Magic Faserip, your humble victim cries for aid"
 
He turned a fraction of a fraction of his cosmic attention from sulking to see an old woman about to be burned alive.
 
She was utterly ordinary and devoid of magical talent or training. She did have a phenomenal wart on her nose, really, that was the size of a thumbnail and it was on a pretty big honker. Add to that the wrinkles, the frail bones, and it screamed hag.
 
"Humble Victim?" He spoke in her mind through dream like images, "You seem not so humble, and how are you MY victim?"
 
She muttered as they lit the the boughs about her feet, "They think me a witch or wizard! They claim I cast the evil eye upon their leader! I can't help this look, I have resting hag face."
 
"How is that my fault?" He shrugged.
 
"They have bad luck and can burn me freely? How can I prove such magic or no? If one trained in magic shows up perhaps, but it's not likely to happen. I am condemned for appearance and convenience for using a magic that does not even exist..."
 
"Oh, it exists, magic can do anything," Lord Vance the Ineffable assured her, "It's just well, sometimes there are better ways so it is second best... but you know, Jack of all trades, master of Magic.. I am King of the Impossible after all. Sometimes the unlikely is a power all its own." 
 
"So there's luck magic for real?"
 
"if there wasn't there is now, thanks for the idea" He began to withdraw.
 
"WAIT!" She called out as the flames rose up.
 
"What?" He returned and noticed the flame, "Oh...Fine. You're a Luck Witch. Enjoy."
 
The Hag felt power flow through her, and concentrated.
 
A freak downpour began to drench the villagers and put out the flames, what were the odds?
 
Pretty good it turned out. The storm grew worse, and began raining lightning down on the would be hag cooks.
 
"I like her, she's petty" He mused, then thinking of something, "The God of wisdom has a temple where secrets of Serendipity are said to be taught. I better send a few of you over there so I don't make a liar out of him. I don't need the grief."
 
And that was how The God of Magic, dreams, and transformation also became recognized as the Lord of Luck
 
 
Last Domain: Luck and Fortune
 
Oh, and the God's use name is Faserip Augustus Vance!

*has the dwarves start messing around with naquadah*

Final choice for Harhoog the Trickster: Our Interference.
 
We choose to remember the Departed God, and have there be a floating city, a place of unrivalled learning, so that the world will not forget the blessings of the One Who Has Gone. The city will move, discontinuously, vanishing and reappearing far away. We say "floating", and it is most often seen in the sky, but it has appeared on the sea, and even under the sea, and even, it is said, in the vast molten ocean of magma deep inside the world: never anchored, always moving, always given to the brightness of knowledge and thought. The city has its own etherial folk, never seen outside its circle, and those are said to know all answers to all questions, if one can figure out what and how to ask. Few mortals ever see it, and fewer still reach it; those that do are touched by divine genius and create new paradigms, entire new modes of reasoning, to bring insight into the workings of Creation. For there will always be things not yet known, and things sincerely believed to be known but which are in truth false; and the quest for knowledge can never cease unless mortals choose to abandon it. And to stave off that true death, the Departed God's City appears intermittently yet brightly, so that the thirst for learning shall never perish from this world.

Smoochy, smoochy! 
I don't have the time, otherwise there'd be a spate of tentacle pr0n here.

*has the dwarves start messing around with naquadah*

High in the peaks of the Spines lives a kind of mountain goat that grows as large as a small horse. Surefooted and agile, they have been domesticated by the Dwarves as beasts of burden, and are also kept for their hair, flesh, and milk. Neutered males are used for riding.
 
Gift To Civilization (option pick): Ibex Cavalry!
 

This entry is subject to adjudication as I PM'd Log about this before we knew he would be away.
 
 The God of the Earth and The God of Craftmanship were conversing about the Dwarves when they found themselves joined by the God of War.
‘It concerns me that the Dwarves could be vulnerable to the other races during warfare. The Sky Elves are only at risk from The Palladians or anyone else who can get hold of a sky ship. The humans can get anywhere and pose perhaps the biggest risk to any race although the size of the Giants protects them. The sea protects the Sea Born and the Kallu’un Qaroof as most of our children do not care to look under the waters. The Brownies are protected by their invisibility. But the Dwarves could be drowned or killed in avalanches or collapsing their homes in efforts to force them out into the open. If however they had something to trade, something that is only found in their domains and that only they could fashion into something the other races would be more respectful of them. What I intend involves both of you as I wish to benefit your chosen people by placing something in the earth that they can mine and then fashion it into jewellry and other things. Our colleague the God of Wisdom can attest whether the Dwarves will use this gift wisely.’
Then the God of War placed a new metal in the earth.
 
The Dwarves were amazed to find to find new veins of an unknown metal in the mines. They extracted it and then tried to decide what to do with it.
‘How about bells ?’ said one.
‘Bells ?’
‘Yes. We make seven for ourselves, give nine to the humans, three to the Sky Elves etc. And you make a song for all the chimes you do, you know
One Ding to sound recall
Two dings for the dinner hall
three dings to start a brawl
and four to deafen them’
The Dwarves looked at each other and then as one said ‘No bells.’
 
Guided by the Gods they then had the idea to make armour and shields from this metal. It was lighter than any other they had worked on but its strength was great. Additionally if rings were fashioned from it when magic enchantments were placed upon them they were marvellously effective. But this metal can only be found on dwarven lands by dwarves and can only be fashioned by the dwarves.
 
The Gift is Mithril.

Me: "I've never been on the new TRAX [light rail] line to the airport. I'd like to ride it just to see what it's like."
 
Lady P: "The airport? It's a big building with lots of planes."
 
Both: "...but that's not important right now."

Ten pounds of crazy in a five-pound box.

Auditor: "Ah, Dr-?"
Dr. R. Roe: "Please call me Richard."
Auditor: "We were expecting--" checks dossier --"Dr. Xander Price?"
Dr. R: "He is currently indisposed."
Auditor: "Oh, dear. Well, please do send my--"
Dr. R.: "By a .41 magnum round through the forehead."
Auditor. "Ah. But you've been briefed for the exit audit for Project xXx? That's its real name?"
Dr. R. "Around the office, we usually call it "Project Oh-God-The-Giant-Metal-Blades-Hurt-As-They-Slice-Through-My-Kidneys," but, yes, it has a very extreme official name."
Auditor: "And it started in . . . 1971? Fifty-eight years ago?"
Dr. R: "Not counting the time travel, yes, 58 years. Don't worry, though, I've brought an executive summary in this folder and a Power Point slide show of some of the highlights. You did say that you'd skipped lunch, didn't you?"
Auditor: "And it started when your original director pulled Subject X from the Potomac River?"
Dr. R. "Not precisely. Actually, it was an infiltrator disguised as our director. No, we're not clear how we ended up with Subject X, either. Our theory is that he's just a jerk, and the infiltrator dumped him and bagged the mission so that she could go shop for a clutch that matched her scales."
Auditor: "Can you summarise the initial phase of the project?"
Dr. R: "Well, not counting the time travel, for which we have no budgetary responsibility, we spent a decade extensively brainwashing him into a perfect killing machine."
Auditor: "And this was very expensive, I see. Did it ever occur to you that the Navy SEALs have a number of perfect killing machines?"
Dr. R. "He has a healing factor and cool bone claws, so we took the opportunity to coat them in adamantium metal, which makes him an even more perfect killing machine than SEAL Team Six."
Auditor: "Except they have guns. A lot of guns. Which can be very effective if you don't stand in the open in giant knife-claw range. I don't see anything about bone claws here."
Dr. R. "Here. Retcon six."
Auditor: "Ah. It says here that he's a mutant badger samurai warrior?"
Dr. R. "That is no longer operational."
Auditor: "I see. So how did this Project X phase work out?"
Dr. R. "He was released from his Skinner Box by some more infiltrators and killed approximately four hundred scientists, technicians and security personnel before escaping custody and becoming our greatest enemy."
Auditor: "And that would the  payout line here for the two billion dollar insurance claim."
Dr. R. "Yes. Yes, it would."
Auditor: "And then?"
Dr. R: "Fortunately, we had extensive tissue samples, so we set out to clone Subject X."
Auditor; "Because it worked out so well the first time."
Dr. R. "I was not given access to the planning process on an ongoing basis."
Auditor: "And, after only 35 years, success! Well, partial success, because X-23 is female, but close enough. I take it that X2 through -22?"
Dr. R. "You'll see the per project cost breakout and the running total following pages 10-194."
Auditor: "That's a lot of money."
Dr. R: "You can appreciate that running a hermetically sealed, fully secure research lab for eleven times the duration of the Manhattan Project is expensive."
Auditor: "Still. . . "
Dr. R: "We outsourced to Mexico in 2009."
Auditor: "Excellent! Financial responsibility!"
Auditor: "And at the end of this time?"
Dr. R: "We had a baby."
Auditor: "A baby?"
Dr. R. [hastily]: "A very deadly baby. With the cutest little bone claws."
Auditor: "I can see that raising some parenting issues. . ."
Dr. R: "Our babysitters have access to a world-beating cybernetic limb replacement programme. That line item is right . . .  here."
Auditor: "And the baby?"
Dr. R.: "She turned into a very moody tween, and our improved cloning programme had produced an even more soulless killer, so we euthanised her and her friends."
Auditor: "Her . . friends."
Dr. R: "It was such a success that we did it with a bunch of other mutants."
Auditor: " . . . Success. You had a sullen, self-mutilating eleven year-old who couldn't be trusted not to lop off the limbs of your security personnel, so you thought, Let's try this trick with some Omega-class mutants?"
Dr. R: "That appears to have been the thought process involved."
Auditor: "And the massacres in Mexico, Oklahoma, Kansas and North Dakota?"
Dr. R. "The euthanisation initiative did not prove to be successful in its own terms. In our defence, most of the employees killed in those multiple incidents were actually killed by the original Subject X."
Auditor: "I'll note that here as a mitigating circumstance."
Dr. R: "I must protest! There seems to be a failure to understand the full magnitude of Project xXx's success here. "
Auditor: "And that is?"
Dr. R: "Project X-24 was rendered operationally obsolete before he could go berserk and kill the entire staff of another research facility, thereby saving DARPA significant insurance payouts in the future."
Auditor: "Excellent point! I am recommending you receive a continuing block grant of $1 trillion dollars for the next 58 years for Project xXxXxer. Have you given any thought. . . "
Dr. R: "We thought we'd clone Magneto and Professor X this time. Being killed by a magnetic or telepathic rampage looks way less uncomfortable than having your internal organs stirred with a razor-sharp swizzle stick."
Auditor: "Good idea. I'm going to go be all the way over there now."

Pick #5:   Geography: The Jaagar: Six Temples of Wisdom   Mortals: The divine aspects of the World each hold dominion over certain areas to which they are particularly attuned, and Wisdom is no exception.  Names like Olympus, Wudan, Shangri-La, and Avalon will hold no meaning for you, yet they describe to your pantheon the form that the seat of Wisdom will take in your World.  Thus, you must learn of the Six Temples of Jaagar, which may be encountered along the path to enlightenment by those who seek it:   - Mount Nollizh, which rises steeply out of the impenetrable jungle into the clouds, holds the secrets of learning.  It is said that any who seek to reach it must build their own path.
 
- The Tree of Nasyyb lies within a forest of eternally shifting rivers and tributaries in the East.  Those who find it will master the arts of serendipity.
 
- The Armory at Chetanat is built into the cliffs and canyons of the badlands in the South.  It represents the ultimate mastery of reason.
 
- The Isle of Siddhanikaar resides among a great archipelago of rocky islands.  This temple, which epitomizes altruism, is often sought by those who desire healing.  
 
- The Temple at Uddesh lies somewhere amid the trackless snows in the West.  Only those with supreme purpose will ever achieve it.
 
- The Oasis of Sanyam moves with the shifting sands in the North.  Of the Jaagar, its focus is that of self-discipline.
  Finding any of these temples shall be a great milestone on the samsar's journey to mokkusha.  No map or fixed course will bring you to any of these, for each samsar must tread its own path.  Indeed, the World you inhabit is neither round, nor flat, but is shaped by the perception and consciousness of all.  Yet Wisdom does not have to be sought solely at the Jaagar, but may be found anywhere that encourages introspection and meditation: pools of still water, quiet valleys, windswept grasslands and dunes, libraries, shrines, standing stones, and hearthfires.     Consider this well, mortals, for the odyssey of your samsar has already begun.   -- translated from the Opaline Stanza of the Wordless Codex

Sentient Life.:  Hobbits
 

My pick for today is the sub-domain of Architecture!

My fellow deity! *celestial five*

Again, Elan shows that he's a clear thinker.

No, what they want their opponents to do is to start treating all Muslims as potential terrorists, alienating them from society, thereby radicalizing them and making them targets for recruitment by the terrorists.

of Doom. DOOM, I tell you!

Eerily quiet. The Hours of Doom approach. Even the most negligent of wastrels fall silent and labor silently to accrue whatever merit they still can as the last minutes slip away, and to prepare themselves for the cutting edges of evaluation which stand implacably before them. The Fates all but visibly loom overhead, and of the students, only those very few whose destiny is already ordained carry on in their accustomed clamor. The rest scurry furtively from place to place as is required of them. Meanwhile, the judges themselves fall silent, knowing the delicacy of the threads suspending some students just above the maw of oblivion, and whet the edges on which those threads will be tested.

High in the peaks of the Spines lives a kind of mountain goat that grows as large as a small horse. Surefooted and agile, they have been domesticated by the Dwarves as beasts of burden, and are also kept for their hair, flesh, and milk. Neutered males are used for riding.
 
Gift To Civilization (option pick): Ibex Cavalry!
 

Dorrauch saw that to better spread commerce and amass wealth for his followers commonality was needed. A community would be birthed to get dwarven goods through human lands to Giant vendors. 
 
The Silver Frost's first idea was conquest. 
 
He was talked out of if during a feast with the God of Magic. 
 
His second idea was conquest. 
 
He was reminded by his high priests that he had been talked down from this.
 
Dorrauch knew this would require all his mind and matter.
 
Conquest?
 
No...too obvious.
 
"What if I threaten them with eternal winter unless my demands are met?" he asked aloud in his favorite temple.
 
"My Eternal, that...sounds a lot like Conquest." His high priest said with great deference, "Also they might not understand your heralds unless you grant us the ability to speak their tongues."
 
Dorrauch stewed. He looked ruefully at his hammer, Hvelvbryter. It was such a marvelous weapon. Capable of great acts of diplomacy.
 
The God of Winter growled.
 
The God of Winter mumbled.
 
The God of Winter sulked.
 
"Alright, I have an idea." Dorrauch stood from his frozen throne and strode to his scrying pool. Calling upon an image of the known world he spoke in a booming voice. 
 
"Praise my name, peoples of the Not-winter. I have decided upon a gift for all of the mans of my world."
 
"I call it Tradespeak. And honestly the God of Diplomacy should have thought of this."
 
GIFT to the World: A universal language. 

The god of Travel approves.

No, what they want their opponents to do is to start treating all Muslims as potential terrorists, alienating them from society, thereby radicalizing them and making them targets for recruitment by the terrorists.

Long ago, when the forty Dwaren clans first made their homes in the Spine, they had nothing but stone for the making of tools. In time, under Welon's tutelage, they mastered copper, bronze, brass, and iron. With these, the Bearded Ones dug deep mines and magnificent halls, and erected citadels that made those of other races look like sand castles. For the Dwarves, as is known, were and are touchy in the matters of honor, and greed can lead one to look upon his neighbour's property with envy. The wars were numerous and fierce.
 
In time, the Clan of the Bearded Bear rose to dominate the middle range of the Spine Of The World. Their greatest chief, Lorna Blutbart, was a mistress of all metal crafts, a priest of renown, and a ferocious war leader. In her old age, when her plaited, gold-adorned beard was waist-long and white as the eternal snow of the North, Welond came to her.
 
"Chief of the Bearded Bears, hear me. I am Welond, god of your kind, and I take joy in you, foremost of my children of these days. I will now show you how to make the perfect alloy, for you have proven yourself worthy of this secret. And you shall pass it on to those you, by augury and wisdom, find worthy in turn." And then Welond took Lorna to his Halls outside the World. For a year and a day she learned the secret of the mountain copper, orichalcum, red as blood, stronger than steel and keener than bronze, able to take enchantments that would burn other metals to a cinder. After her return to her clan, the Bearded Bear herself herself cast a the great spear-axe Blood-fire, that in time came to be the token of kingship over all Dwarves of the World. Legend says that she quenched it in the blood of a fire-drake to seal its flame spell, but since those never existed it is most likely just a story.