Somewhere near, in, over, under, and through the realm of Kalydren - Year 1314, Month , Day 0.

One.

In a darkened room, floating in a space with no observable walls or ceiling, sat a hunched figure of no distinguishable appearance, reading over a display that floated above his desk showing lines of pulsing red, blue, green, and yellow text in a multitude of separate panes; it was that kind of day. Pushing back in frustration he whispered dramatically into the dark, “What can I do to get these people to move forward? It’s like they actively avoid conflict, change, and innovation." He gets to his feet in an exaggerated display of frustration and walks away. The dark stone floor seems to slide under him as he steps without moving, and soon a new non-room appears around him, carpeted in a rich, red, wool it is occupied by a small, ornate chair and a small table topped with a tray of fruits, a pipe, and a void-black cat.

There were also people there, three of them.

Seating himself slowly, so as not to disturb the cat, he picks up his dark wooden pipe and lights it by inserting his pinky into the tip. Staring ahead he takes a long pull, his furrowed brow relaxing, then breathing out slowly he sighs, an altogether different sigh. For some time, the only sounds in the dim room are that of the smoldering cherry of the pipe and rhythmic breathing of the lazy cat.

The three new visitors looked on, seeming bored. They had been here before, and there would be no rushing the man in his ritual.

Looking about slowly, as if in attempts to find his own straying thoughts, he exclaims "I’ve thought over the issue at hand, and I can see the value in your idea." The man gave another good pull on his pipe before letting the smoke trail from his ears, leaving shifting images of his faithful creations below done in a purple haze as the cloud drifted through the air.

Gazing to the cat he postulates, "Though, doing this would seem to be properly evil if I can't gift something for them to acclimate themselves to survival, right?" Another moment in thought as the cat regarded him from the table before he added, "A boon! I will be granting them a boon to aid in their project, being that it is a project for me."

The three people looked on, not yet addressed by the man before them.

He nodded sagely to himself, not the cat, who nodded to a cat? Not him, no, never him, never. Taking another pull from his pipe he exhaled a stream of smoke in thought then muttered to himself again, "Boons they shall have, or at least I hope there will be them, else this will be very difficult indeed."

Standing slowly, again not disturbing the cat, he begins to pace, the cloud of smoke moving around him as a halo of grays, greens, and blues. "Let's Begin.”

At this the older woman among the group cleared her throat, “If we could have a moment to discuss your recent epiphany?”

The man sighed as he looked about, as if choosing to not acknowledge them would have somehow saved him from this talk, they knew that he knew that were there and they also knew that he was not nearly as witty as most of the aged assumed they were. Most anyone of wit is indeed only suffering from a skewed perspective. There really was no room for wit after what he had done to his creation.

The screens flashed closed as a soft hum emanated from the dark beyond.

Searching for Outside Resources….

Possible Elements of Change Found!

Permission for Extradition of Acquisitions Received.

Transportation Commencing.

"Win!" cried the old man, excitement radiating from his being.

Transportation Interrupted...

The man growled before turning to properly address the trespassers.

Transportation Successful: Subjects safely transported to varied locations, assigning variable blessings and boons.

“What did you do, woman?” he demanded of her.

“I was trying to stop you from rushing this, you fool.” Retorted the woman in a measured tone, though not one without some measure of heat.

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The woman, one of the three was rather aged, though not less regal for it. She seemed to settle into her years with the grace of a well-lived individual. As if time had blessed her with a smooth journey through its harsh rivers. Her gray hair still showing signs of a fiery red underneath, her eyes of a hazel nature, shooting through with occasional spots of gold, blue, green, and a deep copper hue sparkling with intelligence. The robe she wore was plainly if not well made, unadorned by anything save the flowing wreath of runes along the hem, resembling a stream through the forest. So, maybe not so simple a robe. She had deep smile lines, though they were not particularly prominent in this discussion.

Time Required until subjects are acclimated to local mana: Unknown.

"Mana acclimation?" asked the man as surprise flashed across his features.

You failed to read the help, again?

Turning quickly the man regarded the cat, "What are you on about now?"

I always listen, you are normally just not important enough to acknowledge. I also heard your use of the word ‘old’; I’m telling.

"Hurtful. I could have maybe used the advice. Also please don’t." lamented the man with a concerned look.

Another of the small group stood then, this time it was the second woman, for of the three there was but one man. Outnumbered in all cases not involving the one.

She was garbed in a robe of flowing forest colors, though the colors had recently begun to shift into their ashen patterns of late. She had hair of darkest black, with a concerned brow arching over her deep, glowing blue eyes. Her skin was of a darker tone than the man behind her, more olive to his alabaster. She smiled ever so slightly, as if trying to relay information in a way as to not anger the man before her, he was after all, their father.

“This is why you should have consulted with us before you began the process. We only wished to assist you, as is our purpose.”

The man behind her nodded, “We did come all this way to help you get this right, it seems we should have spoken sooner.”

"Well..." grumbled the man to the judgmental glares of the audience. He knew that he was only in this mess because he had failed to consult his chosen, the first of many in a universe that at the time had only him. Had he not brought them forth for this very purpose?

Time flowed on with only the movement of the man's pipe in his curved mouth and a small, steady stream of smoke wafting in the air forming patterns and shapes, ever shifting. With a pulse of energy leaving the man, the smoke froze and then fell as will the mist of the morning fading into nothing as the man evaporated and the room ceased to be, only the cat remained alone in the vast emptiness.

The old woman just waited, patiently. The old man had taken to his theatrics long ago, and in time they had grown specific counters to each of his moods. This one was simple, they would just ignore him and wait patiently, reactions were his bread and butter, therefore he would find himself starving soon.

“You know, I really hate you people sometimes.” Said the man bluntly.

“We love you too.” They all said in unison, catching the man by surprise. It was downright creepy the way they said those words in a monotone voice, as empty as a cellar in late spring.

“Fine, fine. What is happening then?”

It was the other man who spoke next, he was as young as the woman, possibly of the same age. He had hair of the brightest gold, with skin as pale as moonlight and eyes reflecting an emerald green of the deepest forests. His jaw was straight and squared, some would say well-defined. His face was composed and free of emotion. His robes were of an ashen gray and flecked with motes of red, blue, and black. They had begun showing hints of green at the edges not long ago.

“You failed to adjust for their need to acclimate to the mana of our world, sir.” The man bowed slightly as he finished his small sentence. He may have begun being warped by the mans failed theatrics.

The old woman smiled at the younger man before turning to the old codger before her, “You know that not taking the proper precautions, you have pushed back the time when you will be able to send them on to the world below, right?”

“How long? I needed them now.” The man was crestfallen, he had truly believed somehow that he could just make it right again, in a blink. Hadn’t he created the world himself overnight? It did take countless ages to get the world right afterward, but surely being able to create the base planet over night would mean he was capable of something so small in a shorter time frame, right?

“Your impatience got you into this, let us help you get out of it. These are delicate times, but the world will be well for a time yet.” Said the kindly woman again, smiling softly as she spoke now that the man was turning to them, as he should. He would someday learn that he needed his own grounding stone in the storm of eternity.

“It will be a few decades, at least.” Said the Pale Man, “I can assure you that by the time they enter the world we can have many pieces in places to help them, surely that would count for something. It gives us a goal, something for you to work toward.”

The man knew his father had only resorted to this tactic out of fear and blind panic, though his countenance would never show it. That was what got them into this hole to begin with, they should have been more aware of his moods back then. If they had, this may not have ever come to pass. Such was how the cycle spun.

The younger woman chimed in after, “Plenty of time for you to do the thing, you know. Your special project?”

The older woman caught on immediately. Since when did these kids get to be so wily.

“Right, right. Your Progenitor Program, you called it? You can do that!” the old woman looked about as a shelf materialized behind her. She thumbed through it for a few pages while the man looked at her incredulously.

“When did you find out about that, and why do you have my journal? How did you get my shelf in my room from my other room, I do not remember any of that ever happening!”

“Calm down, we can do things ourselves. Just because we have chosen not to do certain things does not mean we lack the ability, or did you forget our nature?” She handed the book over and pointed at a hastily scrawled series of notes.

The man sat down in his chair, missing the cat as he did so. The old woman sighed at the cat and waved a hand. The cat vanished in the air, as did the three people who had worked through this short-lived intervention. The old man would be untouchable and unspeaking until his mind settled into his new project.

“The progenitor’s project, I almost forgot…”