[center][h3]Cyclone and Scarifar[/h3][/center]

[hider=Le beautiful summary]
-Apparently Ialu was buried alive, and Ialu returned from the grave.
-Ialu takes his rightful(?) position on the throne.
-Ferghus and the Arma Igna Ialu banished appears in Ialu's presense.
-Blah blah blah, argument, blah blah blah.
-Ialu insults Ferghus a second time, and Ferghus places a curse on Ialu, then leaves.
[/hider]

Once, twice, thrice the gravedigger shovelled a heap of earth into the pit. Ialu lay limp in the bottom, the strange warrior having claimed their chieftain's life before seemingly dying themselves. That was nom atter; there was no shortage of bloodthirsty soldiers in Garakai that had been waiting like vultures for a chance to sieze power. They hadn't even buried either combatant (Viscardi's corpse had oddly vanished) before there had already been fighting over who would rule.

After a long sleep Ialu woke to utter darkness, or at least he suspected that there was utter darkness. He couldn't so much as open his eyelids, and he felt like he had the weight of the world bearing down upon his chest. It would have killed any normal man, but he refused to die.

In a sudden explosion the unmarked grave that had been dug for Ialu was undone; dirt and stone were flung everywhere, and the man that they had thought dead clambered out with a look of rage. That day he had slain the gravedigger that buried him alive, and  began a purge pf sprts throughout Garakai. There were many who openly defied his rule or slight him, and the Sight led him straight to those worms. He slaughtered them all, and then he found the one that had looted his spear and killed that one as well for theft. Ialu was determined to never let that spear out of his grip again.

He found himself thinking about the sword that Viscardi had wielded. The men of Garakai were quick to tell him that the blade had been forged than none other than the Fire God, and that it was a miracle that Ialu had survived the duel at all. When the day was done and Ialu at last sat on Viscardi's throne, he spat and cursed under his breath both the Fire God and those who had doubted him. Victory had been inevitable, always would be inevitable, and he would make sure that these people knew that. They would worship [i]him.[/i]

Only moments after lalu uttered the very thought of cursing Ferghus, the Fire God appeared in a pillar of flame, as well as an Arma Igna. "Well now, I assume you are this 'lalu' that dares to insult me?" Ferghus asked. "[color=f26522]He is the one,[/color]" the armored figure answered. "I see," Ferghus said. "Well now, what shall I do about you..."

Were it not for the plume of fire heralding his arrival, Ialu might have tried to strike down Ferghus for being a lowly peasant that had slipped past the guards. The Lord of the Forge had a certain rugged appearance, one that you wouldn't expect from a god. Yet his timely appearance and means of arrival had revealed his identity.

Scowling, Ialu rose from the throne that he had only just sat upon. In one hand he clutched the warspear that was his Sceptre and might, and in the other he balled a fist. "You," he spat, appearing perhaps as insulted as Ferghus. "...the one who made the blade for my enemy, the blade that did this." Ialu gestured to his bare chest, for he had discarded his damaged armor. He was a paragon of strength and perfection, save for one grotesque scar that dominated his stomach.

The spear filled him with rage and his very own blood had boiled with hatred and ire since the moment that he had drank from the Mighty One's gift. Since that fight Ialu had been so consumed by wrath as to be hardly lucid, though now he was somehow even more irate.

Ferghus listened to this mere mortal and looked at the scar on his chest. That was quite a scar. As for the weapon that did it, Ferghus could only think of one weapon that could have done it. "Ahh, I think I actually know what you're talking about," Ferghus said, grinning. "Yes, I see. Guess my work is as good as I've been telling people." Then Ferghus noticed the spear for the first time, and the grin disappeared, replaced by a look of curiosity. "That spear..." Ferghus said. "It's shape has changed, but I'd never forget something like that. Well, that explains a lot." 

Ferghus laughed, then turned his attention back to Ialu. "Ahh, such a fate you'll have. I was about to deliver a punishment myself, but maybe just being with [i]that guy[/i] could be punishment enough," Ferghus said. "You're an interesting one for sure."

Bewildered by what this strange being was talking about, it took Ialu several moments to realize that the lesser goddared to insult the Mighty One. It was preposterous and intolerable. "What are you, worm?" the chieftain roared. "How many of my people that worship you have you condemned to die by teaching the Cimex to make your weapons? We were better off before you came, our spears were deadly and our Wi unstoppable! Tell me, fiery one, why I should even tolerate the shrines to you in Garakai, and allow my vassal tribes to worship your name and work your unholy craft?"

"Why, indeed," Ferghus said. "I and my craft, unlike the creator of that spear you're wielding, serve a purpose other than just causing chaos. I bet you've committed some rather horrible acts yourself with that spear of yours. True, the art I teach to others will cause more deaths, for that is inevitable, but that is ultimately the fault of the mortals. They are the ones that shape the metal so, and use these weapons for that purpose. I cannot control any of my followers, only allow them to work the craft as they please."

"And besides," Ferghus continued. "Were it not for the fact that the art of blacksmithing is so useful, you would have stopped using it long ago. Oh, and by the way..." Ferghus then walked up to Ialu and raised his hand, summoning his hammer, Pyrkagia, with flames, then swung down, the hammer head only inches away from Ialu's face. "Don't call me a 'worm' when you don't know just what I'll do."

He didn't so much as flinch when the hammer came his way, being brave perhaps to the point of stupidity. With a small laugh that slowly turning into a guffaw, he raised a hand to push the hammer's flaming head away from his face, his hand somehow not even burned by the holy flames. He turned his gaze to the Arma Igna, and locked eyes with the empty stare that came from within its helmet.

"Is that not the thing that tried to lead my people astray? They were openly devoted to the Mighty One, and yet you sent that abomination in an attempt to corrupt them. I spared it then because it had left behind gifts, though I was clear that it was never to enter my sight again."

He then turned to Ferghus before saying, "Yet here it stands."

With a roar, he outstretched his empty hand towards the Arma Igna. At first nothing seemed to happen, but then the being began to hover in the air. The thing in his grip, the slammed it into the wall. Spittle flying from his mouth, Ialu looked at Ferghus and fumed, "You insult me with that [i]thing[/i] for a second time, and you invade my domain." He raised his spear in obvious prepation to fight.

Ferghus wanted to be nice, but it seems that there was no choice now. "I was planning to let you off with a warning, but I guess that wasn't to be," Ferghus said menacingly. As the Arma Igna stood back up, with no injury either, Ferghus set a curse on Ialu. "You will never wield a weapon again for as long as you live," Ferghus said. "Enjoy being a warrior while you still can." With that now in place, both Ferghus and the Arma Igna were enveloped in a pillar of flame, then disappeared from sight.

[hider=Meanwhile, Might]
1 Might spent cursing Ialu. His life as a warrior is over now.

Might: 6
Free Points: 3
[/hider]