[h3][center][color=C0C0C0]Mortemulta Escre – the Great Spirit's Judgment[/color][/center][/h3]

The insistent tirade of Sauranath, though most brutal to a logical mind unbiased by emotion, went unanswered by the titanic wraith.  It new that, among all the gods, it could rely on one to find answers where a less creative mind could not, and to preserve peace when all Mortemulta Escre could do was ensure calamity.  

When Vowzra arrived, clad in a combat forme both splendid and terrifying, Mortemulta Escre felt validated.  It appeared that the stranger did not, at least, stand alone.  When the Master of the Hells of Time spoke, Escre listened eagerly, wishing to learn as much as it hoped Sauranath did.  The Great Spirit's Judgment hinged upon every word, deviating only to sweep the bubble containing Invidia toward it when his example had been made.  Never before had the outsider beheld the High One that had created him, but he did not fall to his knees, or wail piteous cries, and Mortemulta Escre desired them not.  Oddly enough, the stranger felt that this was a more proper arrangement than those that covered the planet.  It was an undeniable fact that it, as a god, even one so different, stood above the likes of Invidia, but that did not mean that Mortemulta Escre, or any divinity, deserved adoration and praise.  Such concepts appealed to already-inflated egos, and were born of foolishness in the first place.  Did a being that could raise a land one day, and obliterate it the next, deserve worship?  Did a being that twisted flesh for fun, or inflict endless winter out of spite, or turn living souls into gems deserve to be admired and upheld?  Mortemulta Escre did not think so.

As such, it thought even less of Sauranath, the blunt instrument among the gods, the most egotistical and the most savage.  A beast did not belong in the company of kings, no more than a stranger did.  But as Mortemulta Escre listened to Vowzra's proclamation, it could not help but be moved to pity, if only for the sake of balance.  On the surface world, the dragons and the other races had come to a somewhat balanced state on their own.  The dragons, too fierce and too many, were hunted down, until their numbers were proportional to the other races.  Sauranath had thought that balance a gross insult, and had wanted -no, lusted after- a greater lot for his chosen race.  By the time Vowzra had finished, and the wondrous light of Orabil shining again, Mortemulta Escre had come to a conclusion of its own.

[i][b][color=C0C0C0]“You have been judged,”[/color][/b][/i] rumbled the massive, deathly being.  [i][b][color=C0C0C0]“But more than one sentence awaits you.  To return to your sleep would only delay your wrath further...it would not remedy the issue.  You have awoken only in body, and not in spirit.  I propose that you take on a journey of understanding.  Travel the world, with eyes rather than fangs bared, observe the life upon it and commune with every god.  Then...you may think differently.”[/color][/b][/i]