/builders/ - Hero and Nation Builders!

Nation Name: The Shimmerwebs

Type: Major

Race: Spiders, Phase

Location: [Cellar]

Background: The Shimmerwebs are spiders, but they aren't usual – they might even be local. Why this is the case is clear enough: In addition to being social, Shimmerwebs have the capacity to move and phase in and out of reality without much effort. This provides the creatures some advantages in combat, but makes them somewhat hungrier than usual.

Aside from the previous characteristics, the creatures seem to have few other peculiar traits – aside from their intellect, which is not terribly common in spiders.

>>30282

Nation Name: Matoran Ecumene

Type: Major

Race: Bionicle

Location:[Attic]

Background: What once started out as nothing more then children's toys gained life upon the great twilight of the gods. When they fell from their thrones on high, their corpses sprinkled life across the land, and the Matoran rose, from idle playthings of the gods to living, breathing beings. They were ever grateful for the gift of life, for they recognized the god's great sacrifice to bring their world to life. However, the world they came into was not a peaceful one, but one of violence and struggle. That did not bother the Matoran one bit, it was merely the last test of the long dead gods, and they would not be found wanting.

>>30282

Nation Name: Muckton

Type: Major

Race: Boggarts, ugly semi-bestial dwellers of swamps, marshes and other unpleasant terrain. Crass, uncouth, disagreeable and ugly.

Location:[Yard]

Background: Boggarts reflect the land they are born from. Fetid, wretched, intemperate and nasty they inflict bad luck and minor atrocities on others. They spoiled milk, rotred eggs, muddied clean water, and tracked dirt on clean floors. They arranged the doors just the proper way to result in a stubbed toe, and papers to deliver cuts. They bedraggled, haunted and ruined the days of the old Gods and derived much joy from it. But the Gods are gone now, as are all the things the Boggarts once knew. Now the Boggarts consolidate themselves, for with no Gods to maintain the land they must do it themselves, or perish.

For they are the swamp, the bog, the marsh, they exist because of them and derive their life from them. Nothing and no one is more suited to them than the boggarts. Now at the end of Gods the Boggarts move to extend and expand their home. The Gods limited them, but with the Spark stronger than ever, no longer! Now the Boggarts can have a home truly worthy of their awesome greatness!

Nation Name: The United States of Metallica

Type: Major

Race: Metal Figurines

Location: [House]

Background:

The old owner of the house was a model railway enthusiast. Using a simple metal smelter and molds, he would take pieces scrap metal, cans, and other items to craft parts for his model railway, everything from the little metal figurines to railroads to parts of the locomotive. He had a particular love of 1800s "Wild West" america in the heyday of expansion, pioneering, and settling. The owner is gone, but his creations remain. And in the strangeness of time were given life in the likeness of their own image.

The United States of Metallica styles itself a democratic republic bent on enacting the "Manifest Destiny" of their nation and race to expand, settle, and prosper. The little metal figures do not eat nor have need of food, but they do need metal and in great quantities as they have learned how to make and use the metal smelters of their creator to make more of themselves more of themselves, repairs, new equipment and buildings. Particularly the trains which form the backbone of their transport and economic structure. Expansion is undertaken to gain access to more metal and material for this reason. As many cans, wires, and pipes they can get their hands on.

The holy book says that God himself ordered this of the first men, "be fruitful and multiply". And so it is for metal men, who ever want to make more of their kin. This is the manifest destiny of the United States of Metallica. To spread the rails and colonize the wild wilderness, for God and Country!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AVBOe_FVSyY

>>30282

Nation Name: Fall's Last Gasp

Type: Major

Race: Autumnkith (wicker-men, harvest gnomes, faeries attuned to Fall, and shadowkinder)

Location: Yard

Background: It wasn't always like it is now. Way back when, in Spring, before the Menfolk and little things could think, all things were bright. The Blooming King ruled from his viney tower. The Fair Folk prospered. Then, he left one day, and as the Menfolk gently prodded the land of the Fae, the King's dear wife, the Ember Queen, took control of the land, and then came Summer, and there were many hot nights and lazy days spent feasting and frolicking and fighting. But then, the Menfolk started poking less, and less, and the nights grew colder and colder.

The Queen left in a cluster of ashes, and to the throne stepped the Waning Prince, a shrewd boy of pumpkins and wistfulness. Autumn came, and the Fair Folk toiled and toiled to gather up their land's bounty. It was just the way of things. Menfolk and Smallfolk wouldn't understand, of course, just why and how long and hard the Fair Folk worked in those crisp days and chilly nights. But when the glimmers of pumpkin-light and the snippets of leaves were stored and stocked, there was a terrible crack, and the Prince fell into his shadow to never be seen again. A bitter wind rolled over the homeland. The Hoarfrost Vizier took the throne, and he commanded to the Fair Folk, "Bring all to me, and I will give you in kind."

The Fair Folk gathered to do as their ruler said, but some were ill at ease with the frost nipping their ears and the bare trees bending with snow. And so, they stepped into the last, withering pumpkin patch, and left the homeland, refusing to give in to the biting chill of Winter.

And here they are now, in the place of Menfolk and Smallfolk and Fair Folk that long left. They huddle together at Fall's Last Gasp, the broken down oak stump in the Menfolk's yard, marveling at banality and shirking from chill breezes and snap frosts. Who knows if the Vizier would follow them here, too?

>>30282

>Nation Name: The Dollhouse

>Type: Micro

>Race: Dolls and Marionettes

>Location: [Attic]

>Background: In the dust of the Attic, a once beloved toy sat forgotten. The family of the old dollhouse untouched in years, only wishing for a child's eyes to set upon them once more, to let them dance and play. Grand Balls, tragedy, romance, mystery, these poor toys had once seen it all, but alas no child would ever open the doors of the house ever again.

And so the dolls learned to move on their own, the puppets pulling their own strings. It is okay if no one will play with them anymore, they shall simply dance and play on their own.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aQnJ0EV1Qo

>>30282

Nation Name: The Cookie Crumble Collective (CCC)

Type: Micro

Race: Cookie Crumbles

Location: [Attic]

Background:

Descendants of the Cookies their God once snaked upon as it played with its other Creations the Crumbles have lived a hard life. A weak and divided people they were hunted down and feasted upon by mice and birds alike, retreating to the barren wastelands of the Attic, void of blood they found an unlikely Ally in the beings that lurked within their silken nets.

But no longer. Years of hardship have strengthened them, Fear turned to Determination, Soft Cookie Dough turned to Rock. Arisen from their long slumber, deluded by the illusion that was peace they forged their own warriors, soft, fresh Cookie Dough merging together smaller Crumbles to form Warriors that would go on to hunt down and kill those who had once prayed upon them.

The Attic is lightened by the Fires of War in which the Crumbles forge to cleanse God's house. And though many will join their brethren in God's belly as they die for a cause just and noble, this is merely:

The Way the Cookie Crumbles

>>30306

>not joining the Ecumene as a Toa

Hero Name: Archibald Birch XVI

Type: Hero

Race: Mouse

Location: Attic

Background: Archibald was one of eighty seven sons of Archibald Birch XV, a landed gentlemouse who had a cosy and prosperous nook under the roof. There, he and his family had opened a hole in the roof. The sunlight and water that came in through the hole helped seeds, which they scavenged during long trips to the edge of the woods, to grow. Archibald was an unremarkable son, and his only really defining characteristic was that he was given his father's name. Unlike many of his brothers and sisters, however, he was a survivor, able to brave the dangers of the world. By the time he was six months old, only fourteen of his siblings yet lived, the others having succumbed to predators and disease. In the midst of a drought, when the hole in the roof gave no water, and only dried up the crops, an 8 month old Archibald decided to leave the household, so that his family would have fewer mouths to feed. Now, four months later, Archibald is a moucenary veteran, skilled in combat and exploration. With his latest contract over, the aging mouse is looking for a job again.

>>30295

>>30282

Hero Name: Samuel the Skeleton

Type: Hero

Race: Skeleton Marionette

Location: Attic

Background: Samuel the Skeleton was once put out on the porch every Halloween night, and now he yearns for the outdoors, and to become the first Marionette to venture beyond the forest.

>>30287

Hero Name: Lewa the toa

Type: Hero

Race: Bionicle/toa

Location: Attic

Background: Lewa is the Master of Jungle. Lewa has a rebellious nature and little regard for conventional ways of doing things. He tends to be a daredevil, very intelligent but prone to taking foolish risks. On the other hand, his unique approach to life often leads him to discover new solutions to problems, something that the other Toa value in him despite their ire for the trouble he causes.

>>30306

A mercenary? FOOL! The CCC only deals in blood and the bones of its enemies!

-Nation Name: Rat Tribes

-Race(s): Rats

-Location: Attic

-Background: we have never seen eye to eye with the mice. we trace our descent to the ancient tribes of Hamelin, they traces theirs to their mouse ancestors. they see our greater size, our hairier fur, our sharper fangs and call us ugly, but each and every one of them is weak! tiny little balls of cotton who care more about their hygiene than how to fight. they see us as savages who refuse to 'progress' from our so called barbaric tribal wars, but their precious kingdom and laws have made them soft! conflict breeds strength, keeps wit and teeth sharp. our young learn how to fight for their mothers milk from the minute they are born, while the mice are coddle their spawn. since ancient days we've competed, rivaled, and fought over the same resources.

but when the cat comes around, when the owl swoops from the sky, or when the humans come with their deadly gas, rat and mice have the same enemy. we would see every mice in its place below our paws, but we shall die before we let anyone else kill them. only we have the right to beat those mice, to show the world who is the superior species!

>>30384

Nation Name: The Order of the Portal

Type: Micro

Race: Mice

Location: Attic

Background: Many generations ago, a mighty prophet tore a portal open in the hardened heavens. From the portal came light and water, and ice. Below the portal, a great farm was built, and by that farm, the Order of the Portal was founded. They are the closest thing that the largely nomadic mice have to a centralized society. They are a monastic, knightly order, sworn to protect the Holy Patch with tooth and nail. Their knights go out on quests for seeds to plant in the garden. The elderly knights and the grandmaster instruct the recruits in tending the fields. The Holy Patch is a pilgrimage site for all of mousekind, and the creatures of that race come from near and far for the protection of the Order, and the bounty of the Patch. The Order has kept Holy Law in the Patch, which dictates that mice not affiliated by the order may stay at the patch for one month out of the year. However, lately, more and more mice are begging to be allowed to stay for a longer period of time, and some have built a village outside of the Monastery of the Order of the Portal, which they have called Patchville. The mice flee a myraid of threats, from predators and famine, to warring states and oppression. The knights are less unhappy with this influx of pilgrims, as they are concerned about the patch's sustainability. The Holy Law of the Patch states that the portal must never be opened further, lest the beasts which roam beyond break through.