As long as Prytho has existed, there has always been SlimeFolk. They, like the Vakshi, evolved from natural resources of Prytho. Unlike the Vakshi, they evolved from disgusting slime, while the Vakshi evolved from beautiful crystals. Vakshi and Slime Folk have existed upon the island far longer than the invading Aarakocra, Lamagi, Dwarves, Sea Elves, and finally humans - and yet the Slime Folk have always been under heavy discrimination, by all the other species. Even now, when the Aarkocra, Lamagi, Dwarves and Sea Elves are united as slaves, they curse both upon humans -- and Slime Folk. But what could possibly make the Slime Folk so discriminated? Simply their biological nature.

=======================================================================================================

Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh.

'Nathaniel' cowered underneath a staircase as the rain splattered down across the dirty, run-down streets of outer Thragon. They had gathered rags, leaves, whatever they could find to protect themselves from the rain, but nothing was enough. They were certainly safer than if they were standing in the wide open, but they still weren't safe. Their body was losing its human shape, and their true slimy form was being separated by the water streams flowing away. Luckily the thickest part of a Slime Folk - the Slimal Centre was still intact. Were it to break apart, then 'Nathaniel' would split up into 2 or more new Slime Folk.

'Nathaniel' had completely lost their human shape, much smaller, and was now a slimy green color. they now noticed a small crevice in the ground that they could slip into. Thanks to their current liquid state, it took them a short time to get through, where they fell to the bottom. 'Nathaniel' was in the sewer.

For most, being in a sewer might be an experience they may never recover from, but for a slime, its heaven. Due to the thick slime-like layer that the sewers have evolved to become in, that layer keeps it the perfect temperature for a slime to be a somewhat liquid in their natural state, allowing them mobility without having to occupy a more solidified form (like a human) but not too liquid that they flow apart. Absorbing human waste also is a highly healthy part of a Slime Folk diet as it gives them the vitamins they need to morph their slime into slimes of different properties (such as the slime that composes fake hair or teeth), as well as allowing them to change color.

After a few minutes, 'Nathaniel' was in a much more gooey state, as they now began to absorb the human waste they glooped past. However, 'Nathaniel' had to wait down here until the rain passed, which could take hours. Even though there were plenty of other Slime Folk down in the sewers, there was very little they could do as they cannot speak with one another in slime form. 

Life as a slime is not an easy one. You have to always maintain a good physical form for people to trust you. If you do anything that is characteristic of a Slime Folk, you will be executed. And there is only one way to kill a Slime Folk. Being boiled to death until you evaporate is a long and painful experience, although at least it ends. If you get frozen as a slime, you have to wait decades and decades until the long Prythonic Winters end, and you cannot move a muscle.

Most slimes wish things were how they used to be - not that most of them remember. But they all know that once they were just one big lifeless goo. It sounds far more enjoyable than there actual life.

Reply

At the centre of the Prythonic Kingdom, is the Duchy of Thragon - at the centre of that is the Thragon itself - the capital city of Prytho. At the centre of the city are the inner regions, built long before humans arrived and the architectural style is noticeably different too. It is filled white white and gold palaces and temples, well the outer streets are filled with rusty huts and taverns. But at the very centre of all that is the grandest temple, the largest structure, the most beautiful thing in all of Prytho - the Temple of Pegasi.

The sun was at its highest point in the sky, so the temple bells rang. It was time for the Grand Ceremony as it had been 120 sunrises since Dlsovi had begun, now it was time for the Kyuwaza period to start. As per usual, the ceremony would run from one midday to another.

And so it began. A parade was lead up the temple steps as the Grand Pegasutoku - the leader of the Pegasus Order - rode ahead on the Grand Pegasus - that centuries before, the Grand Pegasus of that time would have flown their way up, now the ones of the present had been de evolved by humankind and could no longer fly. And so it slowly stumbled up the stairs, having been fed too much and exercised too little, the Grand Pegasus was exhausted. Luckily it was allowed to nap upon its podium.

As the loud orchestral music raged on in the grand temple, its grand and graceful nature was ironic, as, deep deep deep below were the once bustling streets where Wolpertingers lived, were now lifeless dungeons were Baba and countless other Wolpertingers were about to meet their fate.

(This post was last modified: 06-02-2022, 05:44 PM by Proctethia.)

Reply

“TUSKA! TUSKA! TUSKA!” the dwarves cheered, as he marched towards them with his supplies.

“Long live the House of Vartoni!” cheered Ghae, and all the dwarves cheered along.

Tuska sighed, “Me and Katrimon shall go alone.”

The Dwarves gasped in shock.

“It is far too dangerous for all of you to come,” Tuska hung his head solemnly.

“But danger is the life of a dwarf…” Turug said, as the dwarves cheered “Aye!”

“No,” Tuska spoke sternly, “there are far too many of us here. It would be impossible not to make a sound.”

“Wh-what will become of us?” stuttered Ghae.

“Dwoga shall lead you,” replied Tuska, “when you hear the Dwarven horns, it will signify the return. An army of thousands of Dwarves will be charging into the fierce forests to execute Najaspelu!”

“It will be done, my lord,” Dwoga kneeled before Tuska on the ground, “Godd luck on your adventures! We await your wondrous return!”

“Aye,” the Dwarves cheered.

———

Many hours had passed since Katrimon and Tuska’s departure but the Dwarves were starting to get bored. They wanted to join their leader on his dangerous journey - and fight! Fighting is great fun to a Prythonic Dwaef. Why stay trapped in the small village of Kaltuwa, when they could be on a dangerous journey?

The dwarves grew restless, and Cluka capitalised on this. Cluka dreamed of being the leader of a great Dwarven empire, and uniting the Dwarven peoples. Cluka convinced the battle ready Dwarves to join him on his journey through the fierce forests of Najaspelu, and only Deoga refused. But Dwoga had no power, no more, and reluctantly joined them on their ill fated quest. While Dwoga feared a Dwarven massacre, the other Dwarves looked forwards to it. They wanted to fight.

Reply

Everything had changed since Vobar Artregoni came to the Shulakasu - or as it is known in human tongue, the Sanctuary Chasms. School had been completely cancelled, and now young Vakshi were required to stay at home at all times, and were required to be supervised by one of their parents, while the other would be out working to protect the caverns. Traps were placed out by the entrance, and all Lashma crystals were covered in rocks. They prepared barricades for their homes, and equipped themselves with tools and armour.


Cai hated it. Cai despised it. She dreamed of being a warrior and an adventurer, but instead she was trapped inside her parent’s cavern. She hated spending her whole day in one boring place so much, she’d rather go and have history class.

With time, she only became more and more bored, until she decided she would break out. She spent a long time to think of an elaborate plan, where nobody would notice her leave - but such a plan simply didn’t exist. Ultimately, she settled for something far simpler.

“Hey, what’s that over there?” Cai shouted pointing to the grey rocks that made up the walls of the cavern.

“What?” her parent turned around to check, “I don’t see anything…”

“No, look closer!” Cai yelled.

And so her parent walked up the rocks and inspected it, before turning around and saying, with a confused face, “there really isn’t anything here- Cai? Cai! Where are you?! Oh, you have gotta be sliming kidding me!”


Cai was quite short and small, so sneaking past everybody else was quite a simple thing to do, and soon she had made her way to the very top, outside of Shulakasu. She was the first Vakshi in thousands of generations to have ever left the cave and… it was beautiful.



The luscious green grass, and the beautiful multi coloured flowers were completely foreign to a Vakshi, and it was so visually distinct compared to their dull grey rocks and pretty crystals. It was the most beautiful place she’d ever seen. She ran free and wild through the beautiful never ending multicoloured field, or as the humans call it - the Duchy of Numihlub, meaning paradise.

But the beauty was not going to last for much longer. A single snowflake landed on a pretty blue flower in the field. The long Winter was on its way. And it would destroy every single flower and every single blade of grass in Numihlub, and nothing would get in its way.

(This post was last modified: 04-24-2022, 07:11 AM by Proctethia.)

Reply

The streets both poor and rich were both laid out in celebration as the time had come for the most important day of the year in Thragon. Tonight was Pegasus Day. For the rich, Pegasus Day was a symbolic day to celebrate the Pegasus Order beliefs. After all, at the centre of Thragon was the Temple of Pegasi. But in the outer poorer districts, they were the sheep of ruling pigs. They didn’t understand the beliefs of the Pegasus Order (nor did they have an option too) but they pledged their life too it. They saw this day as a day of unity and culture, so the streets were filled with market stalls selling remarkable cuisine, creations and culture.

The Duke of Thragon had planned to ride his Pegasus out into the street for such a special occasion. Many people had only seen Pegasi by the temples before, never in real life, due to the price of a Pegasus rising massively decades ago. Some had not even seen a Pegasi before outside of pictures and they looked rather different than portrait. The portraits showed it to be majestic, pretty, elegant and more. The Duke’s, on the other hand, was fat, spoilt, looked like it couldn’t even walk properly, let alone fly.

Truth was, the Duke had never rode the Pegasus before a few weeks ago. He didn’t use it like a horse. He spoilt it. He let it sleep in his bed, until it broke his bed. It was allowed to eat whatever it wanted, and could do whatever it wanted. It had hardly ever left Thragon Manor (the Duke’s home), or even gone outside.

The Duke was very proud he had managed to ride it down the street in a roughly straight line. But that soon ended. Once the Duke had made his way to the poorer districts, the Pegasus smelt the food in the market stalls. The Duke tried to strain it back towards the centre of the street. The Pegasus rocked him off and he fell straight onto the stone roads. The Pegasus slowly wobbled towards the food stalls and started to eat all the food. One of the stall owners tried to push it away. The Pegasus bit their hand. The Pegasus had also been knocking people over whenever it moved. This had been the last straw for the Thragonic people. The Duke’s mistreatment, and ignorance of the people of Thragon was already well known, and the fact he couldn’t even control his Pegasus for Pegasus Day.

Many people started to beat up the Duke, and others headed to Thragon Manor -they felt surprised entering the richer districts as they were remarkbly different - and prettier - than their filthy streets. The guards at the palace weren’t any better than the Duke. They had gotten drunk, and had fallen unconscious. The people easily broke in. They broke or stole all the Duke’s belongings and barricaded all entrances. The Revolution had begun.

The Grand Duchess and King had been travelling round Thragon Palace in their Pegasus carts. However, Trako, the Grand Duchess’s messenger ran through the crowd, huffing and puffing.

“Trako!” Grand Duchess Zarivo called, “What is it?!”

“The people have taken control of Thragon Manor after Duke Welsc fell of his pegasus.”

Zarivo sighed, “That useless idiot. Can’t believe the people voted him in. Right, tell the-“

The King Jareto got out of his cart and shouted, “Send the army!”

“Shut up, and get back in your cart,” yelled the Grand Duchess.

“But-“

“I said shut up and get back in your cart.”

The King grumbled and got back in his cart. He wished he was Grand Duke, not some ceremonial King who was powerless.

Suddenly, the Grand Duchess had an idea. “Trako,” said the Grand Duchess, “tell the army I have order a few hundred troops to deal with the incident at Thragon Manor. I would like to test this new armour we’ve been forging.”

(This post was last modified: 06-02-2022, 05:44 PM by Proctethia.)

Reply

As the knight dressed in bright crystalline pink armour marched down the streets, armed with swords, shields, axes, spears, maces, crossbows and staffs; the people could not help but laugh. The Armour made of Artregonite looked ridiculous.



“Stop laughing!” one knight yelled. The people only laughed harder, and the knight wondered why she said that as it felt out of character for her.

Even the people invaded Thragon Manor, could not help but laugh - luckily this made them unprepared as the archers rained down hell upon the revolutionaries. Many of the revolutionaries were of magical ability, which made them wiser than others who were not able to see the injustice of the Duke clearly. Using their staffs, wands, hands, or by whatever method they used, they struck the knights with deadly spells and curses. But nothing happened. They were confused - how? How could this happen?

“This city must be militarised. No revolutionaries shall survive, and no Vakshi shall break in.” the Grand Duchess ordered the Duke of Thragon as the revolutionaries were slaughtered. A New Era had begun.

Epilogue

Under the city, and in the sewers, laid the syndicates of crime. There were secret bases and hideouts dotted all around the sewers - much to the dismay of the Slime-Folk - and the Leaders of the Prythonic Kingdom had no idea (or at least, most of them) - the city guard had searched for decades but to no avail.

But at the centre of it all was the Golden Palm. A tavern where all the criminals of the Underworld could meet up and mingle. Run by the Syndicate, it was a place used mostly for gambling, drinking, and meetings. Ebery gang or group or notorious individuals had their areas, their tables. Some weren’t even criminals, just hanged out there.

In a corner, deep into the bar was the Dungeon, the table belonging to Dread. Dread was a Trickster Goddess - a powerful being that was not a Deity but posed as one to cause havoc. Only fools chose to come to this table. The rest were either forced against their will, had no other option. Their was dark red aura surrounding the table, and within was manic laughter and the sound of rolling dice - the favourite playtool of Dread’s, used to decide a variety of things, not limited to the survival of others at the table.

” Natural d20. It looks like you’ll be dead… unless you help me. A group of adventurers are on a quest. Find them and bring them to me, and make sure they suffer.” Dread sneered.

“And what if I don’t?”

”You are in my debt. You came to me, wanting me to save your wife’s life. But that comes at a cost - you must play my games. And you failed, you died. You are dead. You are an animated corpse… but would you like me to revive you so that you can see your wife again, then you must complete my task.”

“You’re a monster.”

”Yes. And you’re a good man. Good people like you must be broken.” Dread disappeared in a puff of red smoke but her cackles haunted the air as the man set off to complete the mission.

Reply