Posts marked with *** are must-reads.
September 9, 2015 — Post #3 ***
Everyone leaps to fight against UserZero, who, at this point in time and space, holds the title of the Godmodder. The battle starts at its origin point, with everyone rushing to start a fight that they dimly know will have massive repercussions. On the hill where everyone spawned, all is quiet. All except for a low whistling sound, more forceful than wind and just as ominous.
Without warning, it happens. There is a great flash of light and a circle of pure energy flashes into existence on the top of the hill, burning all of the grass off the hill in an instant, and even vaporizing dirt. The ground is charred to its stone foundations, stray fires still appearing across it. Symbols are etched around the circle of energy, standing and glowing with no visible means of support. There are twelve in all.
A figure walks out of the circle, revealing it as a portal. The light clings to the figure, and when it walks completely out of the portal, it turns to embers that linger on the ground. The figure is clad in armor, and a cape trails behind him. He holds up his hand, and the portal disappears as quickly as it arose, so fast that it's almost like it never existed at all. The twelve symbols' light fades from view, yet the symbols still exist. The figure turns back and grabs them all, walking down towards the battlefield. The fight has not yet truly begun. But it will soon.
The figure mutters under his breath, pulling off several hoods, a helmet, and a visor. His head is mismatched, with the right portion of it blackened by what looks like soot, and with the left portion of it covered with white hair. The figure's eyes are obscured with a set of glasses made from a pale-grey material. "Pickaxe. Lapis Lazuli. Broken Bow. Wineglass. Escutcheon. Demon Door. Twisted Horn. Alien Visor. Pokeball. Golden Crown. Foxtail. Blue Cross. What do they mean? These symbols are my shackles. Does the answer lie in front of me?"
Reaching into his coat, the figure pulls out a book and a pen, writing in it. After a second or two of pause, he shoves his coat back in his pocket and, once again, marches to the battlefield.
The Scribe has entered the arena.
The Journal: 1/20 ==================== [DATA ENCRYPTED]
So, here's the debut of my character, the Scribe. He's a figure in the Godmodder's backstory, and it looks like this fight will actually mark the start of the Scribe's travels with the Godmodder! They're not friends yet, but they will be soon. The charge up above, titled "The Journal", will be absolutely crucial to the plot and gameplay of the Scribe. I'll reveal data about it as it progresses.
I won't attack just yet.
September 9, 2015 — Post #36 ***
The Scribe finishes his march to the Battlefield, seeing the other combatants attacking both of the original Minecraftians on the field - the two godmodders. He surveys both of them - UserZero looks downright insane. Not the person you'd want to have as your enemy. But then again, he wonders if having her as a friend would be much better. No doubt UserZero only sees friends as convenient tools. And then there's... this other godmodder. The one named Richard.
Richard is a peculiar character, no doubt. He's dressed in the Garb of the Player, for one thing. That's certainly unconventional. And his flowing red cape looks unmatched in power - the Scribe hasn't seen anything like it. It's not just his clothes that make Richard stand out, however. It's his face. No one else would notice it, but the Scribe is man who has spent his entire life poring over the unexplained and the unseen - the symbolic and the sacred. Visions dance in and out of his head at will, and he's plagued by sights of sigils that he doesn't understand until much later.
The face of this man - or in particular, his eye - reminds the Scribe very much of an image he's seen frequently. That of a thick eyebrow above a rounded black eye with a diagonal line cut through it - most likely a scar. Richard's face is untouched, but somehow, in some way, his eye reminds him of that symbol. The symbol he'd seen so often that he'd put it on the front cover of his book. The Scribe feels a connection towards Richard - something pivotal. An instinct that if he sides with Richard in this fight, things that have been silently planned for years, if not decades, will come into motion. The Scribe doesn't know if they're good or if they're bad, but he's willing to take a risk.
And so, the Scribe allies himself as Anti-Zero. He walks over to the Godmodder, removing a scarf, cloth, and gas mask obscuring his mouth. He sticks out his gloved hand towards Richard. "Hello there. You're Richard, I take it. You strike me as intensely familiar, even though I know this is the first time we've met. I suppose I'll be on your side for this battle, however long it may last." The Scribe walks next to Richard, his hand rummaging through his inventory. "So... Do you have a plan of some kind? Something we can use to defeat this UserZero? Or are we flying blind, as they say?"
The Journal: 4/20 ==================== [DATA ENCRYPTED]
@Erelye: Eh, call me Twin. It's fine. Unless you're addressing the Scribe directly.
I +2 Erelye.
September 10, 2015 — Post #67
The Journal: 16/20 ==================== [DATA ENCRYPTED] (+1 from Serpent, Kayne, Erelye, MZ, and Irecreeper, +2 from Nimbleguy, crystalcat, and FBSN)
I +1 Nimbleguy and crystalcat.
The Scribe turns to look at Nimbleguy, whomever his character may be. "Thank you for the pen, but you misunderstand my goal here. The journal I'm about to deploy doesn't need to be completed. Not now, anyway. For many a year I have traveled across this universe - for that is what this place is - and cataloged all of my findings in this book. It is nearing completion, but I am not aiming to finish it right now. Perhaps that will happen as this fight progresses, but right now I seek another goal."
The Scribe pulls out a stray piece of paper from his coat and uses your pen, drawing a symbol - that of a thick black line above a black circle with a diagonal line cut across from it. "This symbol - I call it the Eye - is the crux of my book. I will use its power - which resonates quite strongly here, I should note - to activate my book's own latent power. I should be able to use my book's research and findings on this battlefield as a result." The Scribe examines the pen, and then stows it away in his pocket, where it disappears. The paper crumples itself up and vanishes in a puff of purple fire, its ash remaining on the ground.
The Scribe then turns to Richard, grinning. "Ah, your plan is to take this fight to the Origin Point, I see? A novel idea - the classic Scratched Defense technique. No, I'm not making up words on the spot here, just look." The Scribe takes out another piece of paper. "I know you probably know this already - you godmodders tend to know a great deal about the world. But hear me out. Think of this piece of paper as our world. And think of Yggdrasil as a rather large dot of ink-" The Scribe takes out a pen and scribbles a blot of ink on the paper. "-in the middle. Now, you know what awaits you in that tree - the First Block ever generated in this world. You can only activate this Block if you're pure of heart. It can tell, you know." The Scribe takes a step forward.
"So you'd better keep me sure that I'm on the right side here, and you'd better make sure what you have that Block do is just. Because no matter what happens..." The Scribe crumples up the piece of paper furiously. "...This world won't be the same afterwards. Choose your moves wisely." The Scribe walks away from Richard and towards UserZero, still holding that wad of paper. The pen he scribbled that blot with wasn't an ordinary pen - it was the one that Nimbleguy gave the Scribe. The one Nimbleguy warned to only write with on paper.
The Scribe concentrates, the ink blot on the paper suddenly growing, turning the paper a dark hue as ink gradually manifests all around it, ink dripping from the paper and to the ground below. As the Scribe concentrates, he lets go of the paper, which floats parallel to the ground, ink dripping below it and staining the ground. The ink has a peculiar effect - it's turning the ground completely monochrome, and even making it fade out of existence occasionally. The change is jarring, lasting for a split second - but it lingers, burned into the mind as an afterimage, as if darkness was somehow bright.
Soon, the paper becomes nothing more than a globule of ink - the actual paper has been ripped to shreds under the corrosive might of whatever horrors this ink contains. The Scribe raises his hands and rises them up, the globule of ink rising into the air as well. UserZero, who has undoubtedly noticed at this point, watches peculiarly, possibly wondering if this presents a threat of any kind. Then, the Scribe makes a thrusting motion with his arms right towards UserZero, no doubt intending to fling the ink right towards her body. UserZero prepares her defenses...
But the blob of ink falls to the ground instead, barely traveling ten blocks. The entire inkblot seeps into the ground, corrupting and staining it beyond repair. Yet other than that, nothing else happens. The Scribe walks away, paying no mind to the psycheout that just occurred.
September 10, 2015 — Post #75 ***
The Journal: 20/20 ==================== (+1 from Erelye, +2 from crystalcat)
The Scribe stops moving for a second, moving his hand to his coat. "Ah, there we go. My charge is completed. Honestly, I would have thought this would take longer, but this is certainly a welcome change to my original plan." The Scribe pulls out something from this coat - it's a book. The Scribe pulls out his Journal in earnest, flipping through its pages. They now ebb and flow with ancient energy that could be as old as the Dawn of Man itself. Satisfied, the Scribe shuts his book and looks at its cover. It bears the telltale insignia of the Eye, its cover appears to be bound in leather, and its spine is made of gold.
Here's the completion of my first charge, The Journal! Unlike the Book Talist summoned all the way back in DTG1, this Journal won't be an entity. It will be an item that the Scribe will carry with him for the rest of the game. The Journal is the Scribe's life's work - it contains the sum total of all of his Minecraftian knowledge. He's traveled far and wide, cataloging all of his findings into a compendium of sorts. The knowledge contained in this book will pave the way for many future attacks and entities by the Scribe, and a plotline as well.
I +2 crystalcat. All +2s I get will be split evenly across both charges until one of them is complete.
The Scribe, his previous scroll through the Journal being only a cursory glance, flips through the Journal in earnest before settling on two sets of pages.
The Covenant: 1/15 =============== [DATA ENCRYPTED]
The Abyss: 1/25 ========================= [DATA ENCRYPTED]
The Scribe prepares two insignias, one of light and one of darkness...
September 12, 2015 — Post #158
The Covenant: 7/15 =============== [DATA ENCRYPTED] (+1 from Cobalt, Bomber57, Erelye, jondanger, and crystalcat.)
The Abyss: 9/25 ========================= [DATA ENCRYPTED] (+1 from Cobalt, Bomber57, Proof, Nimbleguy, Serpent, and MZ.)
I +1 Cobalt and Erelye.
The insignia of light the Scribe created grows intensely, glowing with fractalline patterns that the Scribe is creating on the ground using chalk. Somehow, the colors of the chalk are scintillating, seemingly pulsing through every known color in existence. The effect is slightly hard to see, but if you stare at it for several seconds, it becomes noticeable. The Scribe reaches into his coat, pulling out a jar that contains a burning flame that no one can look at. Whenever anyone tries to look at it, their vision blanks out and their head immediately turns away, knowing there is an object there, and knowing that it is a flame, but knowing none of the specifics.
The Scribe puts on a visor on top of his goggles, adjusting a knob on it and making a thin purple shield wrap around the visor. He looks at the flame. Inside of it are wonders that all races across all words across all universes have never known, will never know, cannot know, and were never meant to know. The Scribe cannot understand the magnitude of what is contained in this flame, and only knows that he sampled it from a wreck of a forest ravaged by something that fell from the skies. The entire continent was destroyed.
The Scribe then pulls out a thin metal rod and takes the top off of the jar. He lowers the rod into the jar and lets it touch the flame. It leaps across the rod, causing it to be completely absorbed by it. The Scribe's hand, covered by a glove of unknown make and material, is unaffected. The rod is as well, not melting, twisting, or vaporizing under the strain of the flame. The Scribe bends down, walking around the circle, and, at varying intervals, touching the rod to the grass. A small puff of flame ignites wherever the rod touches grass, burning and wavering like a candle's flame.
Now, for an actual attack.
The Scribe grimaces, seeing UserZero's Clentaminator. "Of course. I should have known one like her would have that much power. Next time I try something like that, I'll have to be more quick about it." The Scribe turns to one of the Superspammers, still holding the metal rod lit with its mystery flame. The Superspammer immediately turns away from the Scribe, not daring to look at him. Grinning, the Scribe keeps advancing, breaking out into a sprint as the Superspammer is paralyzed by the unknown qualities of this flame.
The Scribe leaps up, and, in his great and all-powerful attack for this post, in the most epic and awesome way possible... throws the rod at the Superspammer. It's lodged into the Superspammer's frame, its light shining all around the spambot. The spambot tries to look away from the flame and its light, but soon it is all around its body, burning it alive! Since the Superspammer can't look at the flames, it rips out its eyes very forcefully, permanently blinding it! It also ripped out many important wires connected to its central processors, severing its connection with itself and killing it instantly.
The Scribe calmly walks over and picks up the metal rod.
September 14, 2015 — Post #258 ***
The Covenant: 15/15 =============== (+1 from Modpack, K4yne, and Cobalt. +4 from Erelye.)
The Abyss: 18/25 ========================= [DATA ENCRYPTED] (+1 from Bomber, Modpack and MZ. +2 from Cobalt. +3 from Crystal.)
I +1 Crystal and Erelye.
The Scribe lowers the rod to the ground twelve times, creating twelve burning flames that flicker in the outermost circle of the pattern of light. He then puts away the rod, staring at the creation he made and flipping through his Journal, settling on a page - a page full of information that he created himself, to be used in circumstances such as this. He reads from the Journal, reciting an incantation - but a simple one. "Qui supra, suspice iris, vocem eius cantio. Altum, percutere!" The candles' flames grow, burning more brightly.
Their embers flicker upwards amongst the sky, creating a holographic image of one of nature's most wondrous creations - a rainbow. A rainbow that, in other worlds, is the sign of a covenant between a higher power and its creations. Here, on this fractal of light, the Scribe will mark his own covenant. The Scribe steps inside the circle, and time stops. The flames of the candles turn into crystalline images of each other, the ground drops away, and the only thing left to stand on are the patterns the Scribe drew in chalk. The sky is replaced with an abyss of many colors, each rapidly fluctuating from one to the next.
Feeling a presence above him, the Scribe looks up. Suspended on a beam of divine light is a large chunk of crystal - crystal that is rapidly fluctuating between every color, just like the abyss around it. It hovers at the middle of the Scribe's circle, and the Scribe immediately understands. He has called himself up to a meeting place - a place where the mortal and the divine can have a chat. Here, the Scribe has asked the divine for help in eliminating the threat of UserZero. They have answered his call. The Scribe grabs the chunk of crystal and appears back in the mortal realm, the chalk dissolving around him, spread across the land by powerful wind. The wind whips the fire of the candles into an uproar, causing it to circle around the outermost circle, trapping the Scribe in a ring of multicolored flame.
The Scribe feels his chunk of crystal tugging itself towards the flame, so he lets go. It is absorbed into the fire, spinning around it just like the ring of fire spins. It shatters into hundreds of pieces, each a different color, each orbiting the flame. Suddenly, the flame stops burning, and there is a shattering noise as the ring of fire turns into a ring of crystal. It hovers in the air and implodes, creating a humanoid figure that lands on the ground. The Scribe grins. His plan worked.
Coveknight [AZ] HP: Whatever HP this charge is powerful enough to give.
It's not pronounced "cove-knight". It's pronounced "cov-eh-knight", with the "cov" being the first syllable of "cover" and the "eh" being the sound you make when you're indifferent. This is a creature made from Covenite, that glowy stuff fueled by rainbows that you saw in DTG2. Here's how it works.
ATTACKS:
Spectrum Slice: Creates a Covenite sword and slices it against an enemy, dealing moderate damage.
Spectrum Spike: Creates a row of Covenite spikes that attack multiple enemies, dealing low damage to all of them.
Spectrum Sight: Blesses an ally with the power of Covenite, causing their next attack and the Coveknight's next attack to minicrit.
Spectrum Snake: Creates a massive Covenite snake that deals high damage to an enemy.
Beholder's Eye: Deals very high damage to an enemy and lets the next three attacks against that enemy minicrit. Three-turn warmup.
PASSIVES:
Blinded by the Light: Immune to all darkness-based attacks.
Colorblind: Immune to all color-based attacks.
Literally Blind: Immune to all light-based attacks. The Coveknight, despite not being able to see, has a heightened awareness of his surroundings.
Color Wheel: Here's the gimmick. Every turn, the Coveknight will switch to having a random Color Aura. Each Color Aura will give it different powers.
COLOR AURAS:
Red: The Coveknight's attack that turn has a 50% chance to minicrit.
Orange: The Coveknight's attack that turn will inflict Burn on its target, with a 25% chance to inflict three turns rather than two.
Yellow: The Coveknight's attack that turn has a 75% chance to miss, but if it hits, it crits.
Green: The Coveknight's attack that turn will inflict Contamination on its target, with a 25% chance to inflict three turns rather than two. Contamination spreads!
Blue: The Coveknight's attack that turn will inflict Frozen on its target, with a 25% chance to inflict two turns rather than one.
Purple: The Coveknight's attack that turn has a 50% chance to hit twice on two separate targets.
White: The Coveknight's attack that turn will heal a random ally for however much damage it dealt.
Black: The Coveknight's attack that turn will steal health from a random ally to deal extra damage to its target.
The Coveknight spawns with a White Aura! It will attack the Beta Phantom!
The insignia of darkness the Scribe created grows intensely, glowing with the absence of light, the paradigm of how light works changing to the Scribe's whims. The Scribe is using an old-fashioned pen, not the one given to him by Nimbleguy, to write on the ground, creating a tapestry of darkness and destruction that is glowing with black light. The tapestry being written on the ground tells a story. A story as old and powerful as the Void. A story of beasts only known by the most scrutinizing of scholars, a story of liquid darkness, a story of chosen ones, and a story of a squid. Not an incident, mind you. A story.
The story is of the Void itself, back when it was forming, back when universes were forming into existence, floating across an endless expanse like wayward bubbles floating across the sky. Back when its inhabitants were not so eldritch and obtuse, and when actual civilizations were being made across its expanse, independent of any pocket dimension. Back then, they worshiped the Secret of the Void and his Few, and powerful Void Artifacts were being created to govern reality. Something else was created alongside them - ink.
This ink wasn't like the ink used today, merely for writing. This ink was more powerful. Concentrated liquid darkness itself. Ink that concealed terrible secrets, terrible powers, the powers to create anything the user desired, the power to decide the fates of others in binding documents. A galactic inkwell was created to be a source of this inky power. But things went awry very quickly. Monsters were created from the ink. Horrible monsters, monsters that could do anything to get what they wanted. They started rampaging across the Void, spreading their corruption everywhere.
To stop them, the greatest minds of the Void had to trap them and seal them off in a pocket dimension, a pocket dimension where the power of ink could be drawn from relatively safely, a pocket dimension where the greatest powers of ink could lie in harmony, a harmony that could easily add any astray travelers to itself and pulverize them into blackness. And it was given a name. A name not to be spoken.
The Scribe finishes creating his tapestry, a wordless story as old as time. He steps back, admiring his creation, and then flips through his Journal again, nodding after a few seconds. He pulls out a candle made of black wax, and then pulls out his metal rod - the one still coated in that rainbow flame. The rod is now warped and twisted, its metal becoming liquid and dripping onto the ground. The Scribe lights the black candle with it, and instantly, the rainbow flame is put out, all of its energy transferring to the candle, which now burns with a large black flame.
Running across the tapestry on the ground, the Scribe puts the black candle in the middle of the pattern he drew. Its flame roars higher and higher, the candle's wax melting downwards and staining the ground black. The Scribe flips open the Journal and reads from it, reciting an incantation: "Absolutus atramento, invoco sempiturnus tenebrae. Videre imperatus, caedo imperatus, oblitero imperatus. Taenarius cercus. Pulso profundum." The flame skyrockets upwards, creating a jet-black column of chilling heat that spills out onto the tapestry of ink. Fire races up and down the lines of ink the Scribe drew, creating a huge conflagration of darkness. There is a shape vaguely visible inside.
Now that alchemies are a thing, let's start making some! While I was moderating DTG2, I always wanted to try and make my own alchemies. Looks like I'll get my chance here. I'm going to start charging up an upgrade for the Alchemiter as well - an old one, but a good one.
The Clockworks: 1/20 ==================== [DATA ENCRYPTED]
Nimbleguy's Pen && Iron Sword = The Rorschach (1/?)