[open] what's a king to a god; pangea residents

[Carnage]

lord, I fashion dark gods too;

He and this land have a strange relationship.
He bore it, in his way, built the land from his own sick magic when Beqanna tried to rob them of everything they had. And when it had crumbled into the sea, he had brought it back, and with it a plague.
(That he was not the one to swim to its sickening depths, not the one to give his blood to its resurrection doesn’t matter. He will take the credit anyway.)
He has proven to Beqanna that Pangea is not hers to take. And yet now, the earth shifted, and once again they try to burn his land. Never mind that he hasn’t set foot here in years – time is so irrelevant – have they forgotten?
And oh! To try to replace it with the chamber, that old, filthy place?
(He had never much liked the place. It reminded him of his father, reminded him that he was once part of the mortal coil.)
The mind boggles.

He comes, ready to fight – or, more rightfully, to punish - but it seems he is too late, as he comes in time to see the earth itself swallow that raven wench. He reaches out, tries to discern who – what – had grabbed her, but all he hears is something strange, like static. It’s familiar, almost, but he can’t place the noise.
He pulls back and looks around, at the half-repaired land. The reversion was shockingly fast, and he smiles at how quick Pangea was to reject the changes thrust upon it.
Still, there’s no denying that Pangea is worse for the wear from the whole affair. Some of the canyons are crumbled, and the air still reeks of acrid smoke and burnt pine. Other destruction, too, and not that kind that he prefers.
“Well,” he says, to no one and to any of them, “there appears to have been a struggle.”
He takes a breath and lifts his head, and then he looks upon them as a king, as a god – their deus ex machina, coming in (only a heartbeat too late) to save them.
Or, at least, to rebuild.
“Pangea residents and would-be residents,” he says, “this land came forth from my magic, and does not take kindly to destruction. Hopefully others will learn from this, and think twice before trying to take Pangea from Beqanna again.”
(He speaks aloud, but not to them – those words are for the faeries, to let them know he will not take kindly to any additional attempts on Pangea’s proverbial life.)
“To those of you who love this land, bring me a piece of it – whatever symbolizes the land to you. Whatever piece needs repair. I will make it whole again.”
He complicates things, but he knows sometimes his magic is strange here – Pangea has not forgotten the ill magic that made it. Repairing everything from scratch might work, but also might malfunction – it’s easier, to do it with their talismans, with the loyalty they imbue in them.
He looks around again, at this odd, sick land, and sighs. A dark god’s work is never done.

c a r n a g e

tl;dr: basically Carnage is like "plEASE stop messing with my land. hello residents bring me something symbolic of pangea (e.g. burnt rock, tree branch, native plants, whatever) and I'll use those talismans to rebuild what got messed up)." this isn't actually limited to residents, anyone with a connection to pangea and knowledge of it/desire to see it restored can contribute. love you all.