It's finally time for the belated and (hopefully) awaited, lore post! So without further ado, I'm going to cut the chatter and get to the lore.
Codex Text:
Poison Branch:
Mors-Touched:
The air around the tree before you is thick and heavy, an almost imperceptible miasma radiating out from the purple leaves of the tree. The tree’s branches droop down, the leaves weighty with a coating of some viscous liquid. The purple resin drips from the branches, hissing softly as it lands upon the green earth.
Toxic:
A purple mist floats through the air around the tree before you. You can feel a acidic sting as the vapors permeate your lungs. The light purple leaves of the tree run freely with a sinister fluid, the poisonous excretion hissing and bubbling as it drips from the leaves and pools on the ground. Your eyes are drawn down by the steady drip, leading them to piles of bleached bones and half dissolved carcasses around the base of the tree. One of the deaver bodies twitches, and you can see purple bubbles foaming from its mouth as the poison does its vile work inside the hapless creature’s body.
Sludge:
For a moment, you believe the tree before you to be dead, standing as it is in a ring of rotting earth. How else to explain the open sores in the bark that spew forth a greenish liquid that corrodes the bark as it runs down the tree, leaving deep gouges in the trunk. Yet despite the constant damage, the tree, upon further inspection, is very much alive. Another burst of the acidic slime bursts forth from the bark, and you realize it is the tree’s sap. The corrosive sap splatters to the ground, hissing as it eats through a patch of already dead grass, and you come to understand the cause of the decay surrounding the tree.
Tropical Branch:
Vitae-Touched:
The tree before you almost hums with life. As you stand and watch in wonder, buds unfold into shimmering emerald leaves right before your eyes as new spindly branches slowly burst forth from the tree’s trunk. The growth comes in bursts, the tree seeming to settle back a little after each spurt, yet it always pushes the branches outwards from the trunk in spindly and winding clumps.
Carnivorous:
The branches of the tree before you, hanging heavy with luscious looking leaves, sway gently, despite there being no wind. Some sixth sense warns you that not all is as it seems, and you hang back from the slowly swaying tree, resisting the almost siren song of the softly rustling branches. As you watch, still and silent, a deaver approaches the tree and, after a moment, reaches up on its haunches to nibble at the sweet leaves. What follows happens almost too fast for you to perceive. The branches of the tree whip down towards the deaver, lush leaves splitting to reveal thorn lined maws. The hapless animal lets out one last squeak before the mouths slam home, covering the deaver and hiding it from your sight. After a moment of stillness, blood begins to run from between the branches, the crimson liquid sinking into the ground at the base of the tree. As you turn to leave the tree to its meal, you swear you can see the tree’s roots coiling towards the growing pool of ichor.
Essence Booster:
The tree before you literally glows with energy. Even the very air around it crackles with scarcely contained energy, energy that both radiates out from, and is pulled into, the tree. As you approach, you can see small crystals of greenish yellow sap nestled among the tree’s leaves. It seems that these are the source of the energy you feel, as the crystals let out intermittent pulses of light, each pulse followed by a small burst of tangible energy. Reaching out, you brush your hand across one of the nodes of energy, surprised to find it somewhat warm to the touch. Upon further inspection, these strange nodes seem to be specially developed leaves, each one acting as a small power plant for the tree as a whole.
Desert Branch:
Arenam-Touched:
The leaves of the tree before you burn a proud orange, despite the tree showing no signs of letting them fall any time soon. As you approach, you are surprised to find the air closer to the tree is noticeably warmer, and the leaves themselves are almost painful to touch. Despite the heat, the tree seems to be thriving, and in no danger of catching on fire. After a moment’s thought, you wonder if such a tree would be adversely affected, even if it were to burst into flame.
Fire Leaves:
You see before you a tree with bright orange leaves, leaves that shimmer and glow in the sunlight. The tree gives off a noticeable warmth, almost inviting you in, but just a moment before you reach out to brush your hand along the warm leaves, you notice that the shimmering is not in fact from the sun, but a result of innumerable shimmering crystals embedded in the tree’s branches. You pull your hand back and take a cautious step back, just in time to see a deaver, apparently not in possession of similar survival instincts, takes a bite out of some of the leaves. As the creature’s teeth bite into the leaves, the crystals break, releasing a burst of flame that shocks both you and the deaver. The creature yelps and runs away, escaping with little more than a few burns for its trouble, as the liquid flames fall to the ground, scorching away a small patch of grass near the base of the tree.
Combustion:
The air burns hot around the tree before you, and if that wasn’t enough to warn you to keep its distance, the slowly pulsating orbs of amber that cover the tree’s trunk are more than enough to encourage you to keep away. As you watch, the crystalline growths swell further, the pulses coming faster by the moment, and the air grows even hotter. Suddenly the clumps of sap give off an intense pulse and then burst forth into wide jets of flame, spiking the temperature around the tree and incinerating the nearby grass in a circle at least ten feet in diameter. The tree is, for a moment, obscured from your vision by the raging flames. As the flames die down, almost as quickly as they arrived, you expect to see before you a burned out husk of a tree, but instead see the tree standing as healthy as ever, the once swollen orbs of sap now little more than flat patches along the trunk. As you watch in amazement, the sap starts to build up once more, slowly swelling out from the trunk of the tree.
Snow Branch:
Nix-Touched:
The air around the tree before you is chill, cold enough for goosebumps to break out on your arms as you draw closer. The tree itself is a shimmering greenish blue, a thin coating of frost covering the leaves, giving the tree its snowy luster. The tree seems no worse for the usually biting frost, though the same can not be said for your fingers as you linger near the tree.
Frozen Sap:
Much to your confusion, icicles hang from the branches of the tree before you, despite the air not being nearly cold enough for such a thing to be occurring. Further examination reveals that the icicles are drooping down from the leaves of the tree, the blue-white liquid that makes them up seeping from within the leaves themselves. As you ponder what manner of tree this may be, a deaver approaches the tree and, knocking off a few icicles with its nose, eats a mouthful of the chill leaves. The deaver chews for a moment, seemingly unaffected by the strange liquid, but then its motions start to slow. As you watch, its eyelids droop and, after a moment of rocking unsteadily on its feet, the deaver curls up in a ball and appears to fall asleep. The creature doesn’t seem to be under any ill effects, aside from the unnatural slumber, and after a moment’s observation, you conclude that the small animal must be hibernating.
Healer:
The tree before you is missing several branches and has large gouges torn into the trunk, probably from an industrious deaver looking to build a home. A cursory examination seems to indicate that the tree is in rather dire straits, the wounds being quite deep and numerous, but as you lean closer to examine them, a chill creeps out from the deep gouges as a bluish sap begins to well up within the wounds. As you watch in wonder, the sap swells, growing to fill up and cover each of the cuts. As the moments pass, the sap solidifies, creating a protective shell around the injuries. You step back, taking another look at the tree, and realize that with the swiftly formed seal, the tree stands a good chance of surviving the attention the deaver gave to it.
End State Text:
Arenam
As the last bit of Arenam essence flows into the ground, there is a pulse of energy that causes all to stop and stare in wonder. A hot wind begins to blow in from the east as a blazing orb rises in the sky. The wind scorches the earth as it passes, suffusing all it touches with the essence of the desert god and leaving streaks of red crystals in its wake. The orb grows in size and intensity, rising further into the sky as though it was a second sun. As it reaches the apex of its climb, hanging low in the sky, the sandy winds whirling around it, cracks begin to appear in the orb, mirrored by cracks in the very earth. A bright orange light begins to seep through the cracks, and with a resounding ringing noise, the massive orb bursts apart, revealing Belis in all her revealed glory. The desert god stretches her arms up to the sun, and blazing rays sear into the land. The age of the desert god has come once more.
Nix
As the last bit of Nix essence flows into the ground, there is a pulse of energy that causes all to stop and stare in wonder. A chill wind begins to blow in from the west, bringing with it a creeping layer of frost that covers all the wind touches and slowly suffuses it with the essence of the snow god. Blue white crystals begin to grow from those touched by the frost, and on the western horizon a massive spire of ice begins to grow from the ground. The spire thrusts up into the air, breaking, growing, twisting, and reforming countless times as it slowly rises ever higher. As the mountain of icy crystal slowly takes shape, a massive sphere of dark blue energy begins to form within the spire. The orb rises higher and higher as the mountain of ice grows, until with an ominous grinding noise, all becomes still. Cracks appear in the wall of ice, and then with a thunderous cracking noise, the structure bursts apart, sending shards of ice out over the earth as Xovius awakens from his slumber. The god of the frozen tundra hovers in the air for a moment before slowly descending onto the broken remnants of the tower, his new frozen throne. The age of the tundra god has come once more.
Vitae
As the last bit of Vitae essence flows into the ground, there is a pulse of energy that causes all to stop and stare in wonder. There is a moment of silence, one last gasp of peace before the onset of chaos, and then the world explodes with chaotic motion. Glowing green tendrils, pure essence of the jungle god, lash out from the ground, flailing about and impaling themselves into all around them. Life explodes from wherever the emerald lances strike, flora and fauna alike growing into titanic proportions. Trees shoot up to immense size, covering all around them under a shadowy canopy of green, only to be torn down by the wickedly thorned vines that spring up after them, wrapping their twisted lengths around the trees and dragging them back down to the earth. Massive deavers, their horns almost large enough to be trees in their own right, spring upon the fallen trees, chopping into them with axe like teeth and starting to cart them away, only to themselves be snatched, shrieking, into the air by yet another tree with knifelike branches. The hapless creatures and speared by the carnivorous tree’s branches, their life blood sinking down to feed the tree, and the growing horde of beetles that bore into the tree’s trunk and bring about its ruin as well. In the middle of all this chaos, a massive rose grows and blooms, revealing Rosem, eagerly surveying the rise and fall of each life around her as the rose petals dance through the air. The age of the jungle god has come once more.
Mors
As the last bit of Vitae essence flows into the ground, there is a pulse of energy that causes all to stop and stare in wonder. That fleeting moment swiftly passes, as an overwhelming sense of danger causes all to break into chaotic motion and begin to flee in every direction, a last gasp of life’s chaos trying to escape the coming stillness. All flee in vain, as a dark miasma beings to seep from the very ground. At first, only the smallest creatures are affected. Grass browns and curls in on itself, and a butterfly’s wings turn to black as it drops from the sky. Soon though, the poison that seeps from the bodies of those already dead beings to overwhelm the larger creatures as well. A deaver lets out a mournful cry and falls to the ground, its eyes going milky white as poison rolls from its lips. In a moment, the flesh has rotted away from its body, leaving only a twisted skeleton to mark the creature’s passing. The leaves of a tree turn dark purple and twist in on themselves, the tree starting to hiss as the very sap running through it turns toxic, boiling away the bark and hollowing out the swiftly decaying corpse. What few unfortunate creatures remain can only watch in despair as a massive corpse flower blooms in the middle of the corroded wasteland, its repugnant fragrance somehow drowning out the miasma of death and decay that surrounds it. Within the petals rests Kou, watching impassively as his essence brings the order and peace of death to a once vibrant world. The age of the wasteland god has come once more.
Until next time!
Guardian Soul
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