#apex-tempest

Lona is... varied, to say the least.

The planet itself is divided in two by a single, continuous mountain range (that I have yet to find a good name for, so at the moment it’s The Mountain Range.) The left half is called Veralon, and the right half is Eslon, with Veralon being the half of the world Apex Tempest takes place in. Besides the physical division, the two are distinct because of their relationship to that cosmology I’ve been taking about — in Eslon, the line between the spirit and physical world is thin, meaning belief has the ability to effect the physical world much more easily than it does in Veralon.

To illustrate; the center of Veralon is Home, capital of the Haelian alliance. It is an arid desert of rich, red sands and an unforgiving heat that demands its inhabitants reside underground. Cities are built alongside subterranean rivers in vast caverns, with buildings expertly carved from the rock rather than having been built. As wondrous as it appears, it’s a place that could very reasonably exist here on earth.

Farther away, close to that aforementioned Mountain Range is Misale. A phenomenon known as bio-figmentism — one that is still being studied and isn’t quite understood — has made it so that over the many years the thoughts of its inhabitants influence the genetics of the surrounding creatures. The grass, here, is a soft violet, a color treasured by the people as a symbol for peace and ease; after a tragedy concerning the beloved royal prince, newly grown trees over the years developed branches that sag and leaves that hang like curtains rather than the mighty up-reaching arms of times past.

Sorry for the delay, but thank you so, so much for the ask! They keep me writing — however long it takes me to get around to it!

At the very edges of this place are Entities.

Entities are wide, over-arching ideas, philosophies and phenomena, who’s great prevalence over the material world has lead to the creation of a conscious power here in the beyond.

Rather than people, they take the form of places; pocket realities where disciples, those who exchange loyalty to them in exchange for power, go to converse with their patron. The appearance of this place is oftentimes surreal, consisting of ancient symbolism — the ancient images connected to the concepts that make up their being.

Deragon’s realm is made of memories. Here, you walk the paths you’ve walked before, stitched together like museum exhibits. She speaks to you in the form of your reflection in the of puddle blood that spilled from the man you murdered. Her words come from the crackling of the fire that consumed your family home — they peer at you, lovingly, from the glossy eyes of a childhood friend.

The Master’s is an endless expanse — one with no visible floor and a ceiling perpetually obscured by shadowed arms that hang down from above. As you think to look to the left, or the right, a hand reaches down to gently grasp your cheek, turning your head for you in your stead. None of your movements are your own. Only when you make a pact with them can you see the endless array of thin strings that tie these arms together to finger to finger — strings that lead to your own hands, tied around your knuckles in neat bows.

It’s is a jungle. To move an inch from where you stand is an endeavor — there are no trodden trails, here; only thorny brambles, monstrous ferns, and thick low-hanging branches. A chorus of howls and screeches and calls is ever present, accompanied by an ever-watchful array of eyes peering from the darkness. Only when a pact is made with It will their gaze defer and a path reveal itself to you.

Them’s world is empty darkness in all directions — then, lightning. Roaring flames erupt from the void and vanish as soon as they’d appeared; terrible storms with sharp hail flare into reality and then quell just as the pink of a cat’s mouth appears and disappears as it yawns.

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The Institute

Velvera, prodigy researcher of bio-figmentism, secret disciple of It.

El’ai, disciple of Them, temporary research subject in exchange for rooming

Bealiamonte, resident channeler of the Corsivan District.

Tsilayli, Tualí exchange student.

Tsil-dyyn, Kyrgtzym companion to Tsilayli.

The Else-Pfafa

General Kaligon, Vanta of the Haelian Alliance, and disciple of Deragon.

Wydoda, ambassadorial soldier of Misale, heir to the Honeyhill estate.

Katsov, senior member of the force, former heraldic officer.

Avantine, Vanta of the Haelian Alliance, disciple of the Companion, Quartermaster of the Corsivan District.

Villains and Dragons

Inquisitor Forgrif, Vanta of the Alliance, disciple of Diedne.

Maelcanth, King of Bones, former disciple of the Master.

The Sweet Prince, former heir to the Misalian empire, former disciple of Euphesia.

Ergotsil, architect of Corsiva, former disciple of Admergy.

Other

Destiny, Destiny

Gi Ghiliane, mother of El’ai

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@shadeshadow234

A little snippet from the chapter I’m working on — I was pretty proud of this bit in particular, so I thought I’d share.

Corsivans marched on like figures on a carousel in the night.

Wydoda swore, if he squinted, he could see a track beneath their feet — their steps were the work of unseen levers and pistons, pre-programmed by some master engineer, all the way down to the length of their strides. This machine came into motion every morning, when they woke up and walked to work, and every night, when they stood from their desks and carried themselves home.

The setting sun left the mournful angels and grand beasts in their stone repose to leave long shadows. As the workers passed under them, they disappeared; vanishing into shaded alleys and side streets, off to elegant tenements upstream.

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Some rough sketches of the coats of arms of three of Apex Tempest’s deities!

Them, entity of finality, closure, and limitation gets a setting sun (as represented by it being in the western side of the shield) and a skull; It, entity of the wilderness, growth, and instinct gets the side view of a monster’s face — it isn’t a permitted entity under the Alliance, so it’s coat of arms is unregistered and doesn’t follow any heraldic rules; and finally for tonight, The Heir, entity of Sapience (basically, any conscious, intelligent species), as represented by a human head about to be crowned — yes, “Sapient” doesn’t mean “human”, but this was made by human artists.

I laugh. “But now it’s from a fun perspective. And better, and more cool, and with pictures.”

I shove this world mechanic down your throat for the fifth time before you can object further.

Spirits!

“Your “Plato” — a great thinker, I’ve heard — had spoken of a realm of ideas, of which the physical world was merely an imitation. Our Beyond is similar, yet distinct.

The Spirit is a culmination of ideas. Your Spirit is how you think, how you feel, what you’ve done, and what you’ve stood for — as long as it resides in your body, the only one able to change it is you. However, bodies are fragile things; upon death, when it comes, that protective shell will leave and your spirit will metamorphosize in its journey into and through the Beyond. In the Beyond — that place spirits go when their body cannot keep it — the spirit can be changed by others besides itself. Your spirit expands to encompass not only what you feel, but how others felt about you; whatever you were associated with, depending on how deeply, becomes a part of you.

The prominence of this idea of you connects directly to the power of your spirit. Fame, here, is strength; the more an idea is shared among others, the more the power of its spirit grows.

What use has a spirit for power? Stick around and I might tell you, traveller mine.”

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@shadeshadow234

Velvera! Complete with Corsivan blue skin!

El’ai! Complete with bone-horns! (Though, her skin has dark, peach-pinkish undertones irl)

Apex Tempest Taglist

Reblog to be added!