World of the Inked Expanse: The Almighty

[00:00:10] Speaker A: In the laws of the universe lie stories untold, and through only their tellers do tales unfold. The gods of the Inked Expanse are as they have always been, creation and creators. Just as the world was birthed by an art piece, the pantheon lies in each brushstroke, forming color and pigment into an eternal vessel. They manifest acolytes and arcana alike, tasking their devoted followers with missions of their ethics. The gods and their champions have become pillars of society, supporting magics beyond complete comprehension and vowing to protect such malleable elements. After all, the quintessence of Arcana can be a powerful tool in both the right and wrong hands. As images on parchment are scrawled and danced, thus begins the world of the Inked Expanse. Red. O great Abis, the avid of the red. Where you start, others follow, and where you create action, others strike back with reaction. The Path Forger, You are the beginning of all that comes after you. Hold tight to intention, earning the title of Sentiment's Keeper. I pray that all action sparks both invention and intention, pushing all towards revelation. Orange. May the mystery and unknown of the Orange yield purpose and hunger, for without enigmas there are no goals. I pray to Thee that such holy grails never be uncovered, as even the most definite in this life must wield the uncertain blade of Mystery. The depths of the planes are not meant to sustain life. However, they are meant to sustain mystery. Most creatures tend to shy away from the unknown, cowering from that which they cannot understand or perceive. The unknown is home only to that which has been abandoned and forgotten. The Dread Patron, Scion of secrets and wielder of the Orange. The flame and fall of the Dread Patron brought chaos and destruction in its wake. The omnipotence of the beast stretched beyond mortal understanding in lifetimes until it touched every corner of the plane. The orange magic it had birthed silently filled every forgotten nook, plan and memory. As the Dread Patron filled in the space mortals could not keep, its power was both feared and followed by the town of Atropos. As the Dread Patron tended to its tumultuous flame, the people of Atropos worshiped its trailing ash. As those of Atropos grew more accustomed to the creature, they began to study it, discover it, revere it. They idolized its serpentine body. They deified its nine heads. They captured and emulated the orange. It breathed out and transmuted it to suit their needs. As they uncovered more of its history, the Dread Patron felt its power beginning to bleed. Its hold over the forgotten was thinning as the people of the village began shaping the unknown to fit their narratives, they filled in gaps and void with the orange until the magic itself flowed out from these forgotten spaces and into the weaves of other known colors, infecting action and universe with the unremembered. As the mortals of Atropos abused the orange, the Dread Patron began to fade. There was nothing more diabolical than shaping its forgotten narrative to fit their desires. Refusing to die, it fought back against those who had titled it. It sang a mighty hymn, each of its nine heads humming in harmony. It tempted townspeople into the forest one by one, consuming their minds, bodies and connections to others. As the final hums of digestion settled in its stomach, its connection to the orange grew stronger. With one final push, it set off towards Atropos to put an end to its remembrance. The people of Atropos did not last long. Overtaken by the Dread Patron, each citizen was consumed one by one as bone crunched and walls burned. The memories and connections each person had to the rest of the plane were severed, as even friends and family had forgotten them in their demise. Each memory of the people of Atropos was once again filled by an invisible orange magic which prompted forgetfulness across the plain and contentment in the stomach of the Dread Patron. Alone and unremembered, it returned to its home in the unknown, living as liminally as the arcana it sired. [00:05:38] Speaker B: The woman penning the story to paper finishes her tale with a dot. She picks up the papers before her, tears brimming at the edges of her creased eyes. With much effort, she pushes herself from the writing desk and looks out her window. Wiping away her shed tears, she gazes upon what was once a Trappist, now burning and covered with a thick arcane smoke of roiling orange and black. As the smoke wakes in through her own smoldering door, she hears a voice that is unknown to her. [00:06:11] Speaker C: Do you know who you are? Who are you? [00:06:16] Speaker B: She cannot remember. She doesn't know who she is, nor what floor she stands upon. And as flames overtake her body, instead, she forgets all she is leaving behind. The papers burn from her hands as she passes, forgetting and forgotten. [00:06:44] Speaker A: Yellow Niravati, the Illume. It is you that holds us like the Expanse's yellowing parchment. You hold that which is archaic and inherent. Your warmth shines light on that which is the present, functioning as both a blaze of truth and a creator of shadows. You are the Wielder of Totality, and in that we find comfort. I pray that your veracity and heat outweighs the shadows cast, for the Expanse could use a light to follow. [00:07:18] Speaker C: There was a loud splintering sound as Solea's pommel smashed through the skull of the final skeleton. The crowd cheered, becoming a blur, a roiling sea of mottled earthy tones as waves of giants clapped their hands and stamped their feet against the ground hard enough to send vibrations through the rocky earth below. Solea stumbled ever so slightly, but whether that was due to the mild earthquake transpiring or the heavy exhaustion weighing her down, she she couldn't quite say. Rising above the low, rumbling cheers came a higher, clearer voice. Her brother Filio. One more round, one more round, Solea, and then we're free. Her eyes fell on him and the crowd sticking out like a patch of lichen on a boulder and nearly just as bright. One more round and then you're free, she grumpily thought to herself. He currently sat cocooned in rope at the side of a giantess, but that didn't seem to dampen his effort to cheer his sister on as he wriggled pathetically. His traveling hat had been knocked askew when they were first captured by the Lord of Stones, and this latest bout of forced enthusiasm slid it further down his face. Zelaya didn't even think he could see her anymore. Her fingers found the warm amulet around her neck. After the fiasco in the forest of Yaklea, the sundrop had led her directly to the mountains, cutting through Treyla. The small beam of light visible only to her seemed to want her and her companion to cut through the mountain, though being armed only with fabrics and a sword, traveling over the peaks seemed much more doable. Upon cresting the long hike up, a large crater had lain before them, and Niravati's golden pathway ushered her forward. Thinking back, Solea felt foolish. After their encounter with the Mother of Night, she and her brother should have tread more carefully. The sundrop showed only direction, not a safe path. It wasn't long before the Lords of Stone, the conclave of giant folk that inhabited this region, scooped them up and dumped them into a big hole in the ground before promptly covering their escape with a heavy stone. Solea had heard of the Lords of Stone before. They had a reputation for stealing people away, forcing them to fight beast and creature until they proved their salt for entertainment. Solea had endured training with her blade, but Filio, he was a master of the needle, and not much else when it came to sharp things. When their captors reappeared and told them of their plans, three waves of combatants each Solea stepped in front of her brother and offered to take his place in addition to hers. Thrilled at the prospect of such an entertaining afternoon, the lords of stone accepted. And now, two dust mephits, four stirges, a strange toad like creature, a swarm of rats, and two skeletons later, Solea found herself preparing for the final wave. Her body was crisscrossed with scrapes, cuts and bruises, and her head was throbbing from where the toad had flung her against a wall. But knowing the lords were expecting entertainment and never one to back down from a challenge, Solea raised her sword, breathing heavily. Another roar of delight spread through the crowd. Across the makeshift arena, a lodgepole gate was being raised. Lumbering out from the darkness on four legs came a mangy furry thing, slightly larger than the orc herself, sharp teeth bared in a wolf like maw. Its nostrils flared as it let out an exhale, hot breath visible in the chilly mountain air. Solea gave the sundrop a final squeeze before swinging her sword into a ready position. The creature gave a mighty roar and began running toward her. Solea lay in wait, wanting to see what this creature was capable of. It was quick, its large clawed paws pushing it off the ground, propelling it forward. It was hulking muscle bunching beneath its mottled fur. Usually big things aren't very agile. Solea attempted to steady her breathing and spun out of view just as the creature was about to slam into her. She twisted back, swinging her sword around to try and slice into its passing flank, but stopped short, the failed momentum causing her to stumble. What used to be fur and muscle and teeth and claws was now a grinding stone beast. Back home in Asmurgh, the monastery roofs were lined with gargoyles, stone lions, chimeras and other creatures. What stood before her now looked similar. Rough limestone marbled with mineral and patches of lichen and moss contouring its rugged joints. But unlike the stone beasts from home, this creature turned with a deep rumbling of stone. Another roar, deafening at only 10ft away, vibrated in Solea's chest and the stone softened back into fur. The creature pounced at her, and it was all Solea could do to throw her shield arm up in defense. Her shield splintered and discarded after the mephits lay uselessly on the other side of the arena, and the beast's teeth sunk into her forearm. The orc let out a scream, cut. A voice in her head prompted her, her other arm still clinging to her blade. White hot pain clouded her vision, but Solea raised her blade, hoping to cut firm and deep. But as she Brought her arm down. The creature once again turned to stone, and Solea twisted her blade at the last moment, the flat of her blade smacking against the creature. The vibrations coursing up her arm and her sword fell to the ground. The sounds of the arena, the giant's cheering and booing, her brother's cries for his sister, all began to fade. Soleaya clamped her still buzzing arm around the jaw of the creature. It gave a shudder, the stone form once again melting away. It seemed that the stone form wasn't something that could be maintained for long. If she could just time it right and hit the beast while it was still flesh and blood, she could slice through it without issue. But a fork was useless for a soup, and a sword was useless against stone. With a guttural roar, Solea wedged her throbbing hand into the creature's mouth and pulled with all her might, opening the jaws enough to wrench her arm out of its bite. The wolf like creature's jaws snapped against air and Solea ducked beneath it and grabbed her sword and ran. The dirt ground beneath her was still sprinkled with detritus from her other fights. Her eyes swimming as she tried desperately to come up with a plan. The beast snarled. It was in pursuit. Slice. The voice once again goaded her. She leapt to the side as nimbly as she could, scrambling to keep her footing. The mountainous creature once again stone hurtling past. No. Solea grunted out loud. If she attempted to cut the creature while it was still stone, she could lose her weapon. The image of her blade shattering against stone was all too clear in her mind, and the orc tightened her grip on her hilt. The warmth of the blood running down her arm gave way to a chill as wind funneled through the arena. The voice again returned. Cut and slice. Soleaya. Trust the light and win the fight. The clouds overhead thinned ever so slightly and a bright beam of sun fell upon her, warming her skin. The sundrop especially got warm, almost hot, as it rested against her heaving chest. Her eyes fell upon the pure, inky black ones of the beast. It snarled a challenge. The beast ran and Solea ran to meet it. She swung her blade back and let out a cry, met in turn by a vicious howling from the creature. It turned to stone and Solea swung her blade cleave. A burst of golden light exploded from where the blade connected with the neck of the monster, and Solea's sword was met with no resistance. There was a heavy thud and all that remained of the feral roar was the slightest echo before it was replaced by screams of delight from the crowd. Solea blinked the shadows out of her eyes. Before her lay the beast, its head severed and preserved in stone, the body too, nothing more than a statue. Her sword slipped from her blood slicked hands, its usual steel now glowing in warm light. Sunseer, my champion. Solea, take up your sword in your hands. I make it Mountain Cleaver. [00:16:17] Speaker A: Green. We call out to the Earth Guardian Leriyah, Bearer of the Green. You choose to hold that which many have abandoned. You take the natures of the Expanse into your palm, shielding it from a society that may wish to exploit it. You find joy in the unsullied and pure, trusting those not yet tainted by an unforgiving world. It is not the natural world affecting people in this way, but rather the people affecting the natural world. I pray to you that the planes find beauty as you do, and also seek to protect it for generations to come. [00:16:56] Speaker D: A small little leaf floats down from a tree with his fellow leaf siblings and lands gently on the ground. A small puff of wind blew over him, whispering. He sat up with a start and looked around. No other leaves sat up, and after a minute he realized he could stand. He toddled down the road towards a cluster of small farmhouses. Yara knew his objective. Find the group of people. One with blue hair, one who looked scary, one that was smaller, and one with blue hair. No, that can't be right. He already said that. One with blue hair, one who looks. Oh, never mind. He'll figure it out. The farmhouses stood daunting to his small leaf form, but Yarn was not afraid. He marched up to the back door and began hoisting himself up the stairs. He made it about halfway before hearing a strange hiss. As he slowly looked up, he saw a large beast at the top of the stairs with pointy teeth, covered in fur. With narrowed eyes, the beast lashed out with its claws half heartedly, and Yharn went tumbling backwards down the stairs. After hitting the ground, Yarn laid there for a moment staring at the sky, and the beast, seeming content with the outcome, continued to groom itself. Quite the start to an adventure. A short while later, Yarin hurt his stomach. Well, at least where his stomach would be. Growl. Needing food, he wandered to a baker's cart looking for some bread. The bread was so high up in the air he would need at least a hundred of himself to reach the top. He tried turning into a stick, but sadly he was not long enough. He tried to close his eyes and wish himself bigger, but a wind gust just blew him off balance. Finally, the Baker saw him with a surprised look on his face, seeing a leaf jump up and down, trying to reach his bread. After shaking off the shock, the baker said some words that sounded like gibberish to Yarin. It was clearly common, but what was that word? Money? He didn't know what that was. Without any other ideas, Yarn sauntered away. Sadly. A few minutes later, the clouds above parted and Yarn immediately felt better. His stomach stopped grumbling, and he took a deep and exaggerated inhale and exhale of the fresh air. Much better. With his hunger satiated, Yarin had one more task. To find this group of friends. Or at least he hoped would be his friends. Humming a tune to himself, he came across a massive rolling thing with an attached creature and other attached humans. He dove to the side of the road, turning into a small apple to roll better out of the way. He felt the leading creature's interest in him for a moment before the whole mess of them moved along. [00:19:53] Speaker A: Phew. [00:19:54] Speaker D: Breathing heavy for a moment, Yarin took a second to figure out where he was. He turned himself into a map of the local area, but that was no use. He couldn't see himself, silly. So he turned into a hand mirror so he could see himself. But of course, then the map was gone. Oh, brother. What was he gonna do? Just as he had given up hope that anyone would be able to help him, a tumbleweed rolled past him. Turning back into his leafy self, he introduced himself to this tumbleweed. Finally, someone who would listen to him. Yarin and the tumbleweed spent many nights together, sleeping, cooking, and chatting the whole way. Well, mostly Yen. The rest is known history. And as Leriyah would point out, nature is far more resilient than many know it to be. [00:20:43] Speaker A: Blue To the Tome Keeper of the Planes, please hear our calls. This world cannot thrive without your knowledge and understanding. We call to you, Satya, the Bearer of Inquiry, to promote discovery and study in this world. Without the pursuit of knowledge, we are pliant and malleable. I pray that your certainty creates a strong foundation for innovation to come. Purple. I am so sorry. It seems that this color has made its way here by mistake. I do apologize for any inconvenience. Let us carry on with our prayers. [00:21:22] Speaker E: The gods of the Inked Expanse are shaped through many methods, but the foremost is a belief in a method of living. That is to say, we, the people of the Inked Expanse, are what shape the gods of this world. Our belief in a way forward, a progression, a best method over time, and proof of concept forms and creates massive Amounts of power. The first we learned of this was through Leriyah, the God of green magic and of nature. Many people who practice druidcraft and those who live in the sanctuaries have a deeper connection with Leriyah. But even farmers offer short words of prayer to the verdant goddess. After all, she was one of them. As mortal Leriyah shepherded flocks as she developed a magic that connected herself to them and the land that they wandered. As her connection to green magic grew, a shimmer appeared in the air. And the next thing we mortals knew, we had a new deity. Take second, Abis, the God of red. Abis embodies those who would rather move than ponder, would rather speak, than listen, would rather feel than avoid. Mortals who follow Abis and or utilize red magic are most often these kinds of people. They send damage towards their enemies in fire, lightning and sound. They hasten and embolden others through energy and pride. As we know from the Inked Expanse's many other worlds that contain stories, action is what ends up causing the most change. A tried and true method backed by a well known and powerful deity. We also see great examples of knowledge and understanding being a counterpoint to Abis in Blue Magic, represented in the pantheon by the deity Satya, where in some instances, rushing in works out well. Oftentimes having a plan works out even better. We see this throughout the Inked Expanse. Blue churches are widespread libraries and places of learning even more so. And minds curious about the world around them are most common. In the story we follow, however, one color is more prevalent than all. Purple. Curiously, purple magic has reared its chimeric head many times despite its recent creation. Or was it discovery? Creation, Resonance? No matter which way, we have seen it in many of our characters, the metamagic of Arg'nong, fusing abilities and spells into one. Myla very recently has discovered the consumption of magic, a seemingly purple ability. And most frequently, Id and Ari with the contraptions in their chests, constantly on a tipping point between a balance of blue and red, activating to clash into purple. Was this all by choice? Was it an accident? Was it fate? The world of magic is mysterious, especially to those not in a realm of godly knowledge. When we see purple, we now automatically ask the question. [00:24:52] Speaker D: What is this? [00:24:54] Speaker E: Who. Who was that? Who are you? [00:24:58] Speaker D: What is this? [00:25:00] Speaker E: This. I suppose it is a story. How are you here? Who are you? Who am I? How am I here? I'm sorry. We don't know you. We don't know you yet. We. We don't know who you are. Yet what is happening here? [00:25:27] Speaker A: What is this? [00:25:28] Speaker E: What is this? [00:25:29] Speaker B: What is this? [00:25:30] Speaker D: What is this? [00:25:31] Speaker C: What is this? [00:25:32] Speaker E: What is this? [00:25:33] Speaker A: What? What is this? [00:25:35] Speaker D: What is this? [00:25:35] Speaker E: What is this? [00:25:36] Speaker D: What is this? [00:25:37] Speaker A: What is this? What is this? [00:25:38] Speaker E: What is this? [00:25:38] Speaker D: What is this? [00:25:39] Speaker A: What is this? [00:25:40] Speaker E: What is this? [00:25:40] Speaker A: What is this? [00:25:41] Speaker E: What is this? [00:25:42] Speaker A: What is this? [00:25:42] Speaker C: What is this? [00:25:43] Speaker E: What is this? [00:25:43] Speaker A: What is this? [00:25:44] Speaker D: What is this? [00:25:45] Speaker E: What is this? [00:25:46] Speaker A: What is this? In the laws of the universe lie stories untold, and through only their tellers do tales unfold with paper and pen still in their hand. The authors have noted one final May this tome never close and its ink never dry. May all tales be penned on each page. May truth sly. May the cosmos final score never be written as beyond the star mortals hear composition as the gods of the ink have scrawled and danced. Thus continues the world of the Inked Expanse Hi friends, thank you so much for listening to World of the Inked Expanse: The Almighty. Wotie is an interactive world building project that allows everybody involved with the podcast cast to put their own little taste and flavor into this amazing world that Anastasia has created for us as a gm. And we always love participating in it and we hope that you enjoy listening to it as much as we love creating it. A huge shout out to our friends who lended their voices to this episode. Ethan Maren and John AKA DND monetized. Y'all are so amazing and it was so fun to incorporate your voices into this piece. A real quick announcement. We are going to be taking a short break from our main game for a while while Life is life ing for some of our main cast. In its place we will be posting a mini campaign run by Meg. Make sure to keep an eye on our socials for more information on it in the next week or so. You can find us on social media @spellsandwhistlespod on Instagram and TikTok and @spells_whistles on Twitter. If you want to join in on some extra fun, you can make sure to come over to our Discord. And if you like the content that we create and you want to give a little extra support, make sure to check out our Patreon as well. With the lowest tier Starting at just $1, all of the funding that we receive goes back into making our content even better and giving it some extra spells and whistles. Thank you so much again and we will catch you in the next episode. Bye.