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[b][center]Two Years Ago[/center][/b]

Darkness swirled in the Ruins of Aelp, the lonely throne with the mad man sitting on high with the beaten and battered former member of the Apotheoses Council at his feet. The eerie silence, devoid of even the tiniest of sounds, was all that remained. Even the obvious gurgled blood of the Elf before the  Leader of the Apotheoses was silenced. 

[color=Crimson]“Everyone I ever trust betrays me, no matter how big or small. I put my trust in my parents, and they shun me for not believing in Michael. I put my trust in the Ringmaster, and he fails to produce on his trick and he dies. And now, I assemble this esteemed group of likeminded individuals, and one betrays me. One prays to their God, even though our crusade against them is in full swing.” [/color]

Words spoken broke the silence, and the soft patter of blood staining old stones untold millennia old. To the left, a soft cackle joined the growing course of returning sound. Parted thunderclouds revealing the faintest glimpse of moonlight reflecting off the bright black edge of a immaculate axe being swung in a descending arc at the merest gesture from the shadow hidden Leader. So swift and strong the swing, so sharp the blade, and vicious the intent that the stone beneath the neck of the man cracked with a thunderous report. The rest of the moonlight revealed the Executioner’s Axe being wielded by the Lordess of the Hook, Eclava Oussrett. 

Another hand, older, reached down and gripped the long silver hair that slung to the now decapitated head of the Elf. [color=Gray]“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” [/color]The soft voice of the elder gentleman, [color=Gray]“Sir, I told you over the last game, that you couldn’t trust this one.” [/color]The almost impenetrable darkness seemed to twitch. A movement. [color=Gray]“Yes, Yes, you can say whatever you like - but, the fact remains… we need a new representative.”[/color]

[color=Crimson]“Always the practical thinker, aren’t you, Ivan? Perhaps the reason you have almost bested me in every game in which we’ve partook.”[/color] The voice commanded attention and respect, but even the lowest of the Apotheoses Lords could sense the madness. The half dragon-man, Jean, twitched a smile every time his  Lord spoke, a far cry from the unceremonious weeping he used to do until his adoptive mothers, collectively known as Illyria, or rather one of them, sexually assaulted it out of him.  

The thick sound of a blade scrapping across old rock and dislodging itself from its brief earthen sheathe disrupted the course of conversation, turning all attention to the woman who wielded the iconic weapon of her father. [color=Violet]“I do believe I have a solution. My second in command, my liege. He fancies himself in love with me, and though he thinks it not, I can feel the tension between him and Saranix as they play a game of emotional chess for my heart.” [/color]

[color=Crimson]“And why would he be a good fit?” [/color]

A dark pink tongue slid between the dark lips of the Drow woman as she licked the fresh blood from the glistening edge of her blade. [color=Violet]“For one, the Axe he carries is very special. It can only be wielded by the person who defeats him in battle, and with his martial skill and his innate ability to judge a battle from any point of view, and command a considerably large war without effort, I would say he’s the man for the job. Plus, he won’t mess this up, as he’ll see himself on par with me and well, he’d always want to please me.”[/color]

[b][center]Two Weeks Ago - Rocoa[/center][/b]

[color=Plum]“Madam Eclava, the time has come to move the worrisome prisoner.” [/color]A sultry, silken voice said from the darkness. Eclava could see the  figure standing before her as clear as day. The new third in her personal army, having been such since the traitorous Fananatu betrayed her and the Apotheoses for his own shot at glory. 

[color=Violet]“Sheu, yes, that Warlord’s time has come. Unfortunately, the Mighty One has decreed he survive, but with his loyal compatriot on the tear we can’t risk him finding out Warlord Worren is here.”[/color] Her voice rolled out of her mouth with an almost sickly displeasure. Eclava was nearly killed during the assault on the summit by the Tengu and Human pairing; Warlords from the far North, who worked well together. 

Worren was a man of almost magical charismatic aura, often his very presence bolstering wavering troops to continue the fight. And the Tengu, whose name had been stricken from the records when his quest for vengeance began, was a master at transmutation, especially when it came to something as simple as paper. Both were wildly capable martial artists in their own right as well, and almost single-handedly, the winged Warlord was tearing a path of destruction throughout the Hook. It was definitely time to move Worren. 

They had been in communication with Bastion about the construction of a specialized cell, and the transportation of Worren into it. That would relieve the pressure on the Hook and allow Eclava to continue to control the Hook. Should things have went wrong then Falden would have sent in Ivan, and that would have done nothing but cause a lot of issues for her future plans. 

[b][center]Present Day - Outskirts of Kyut Forest[/center][/b]

Across the several mile long plain, the gigantic gorilla head that marked the location of the forest city of Kyut could be seen towards the center of the green expanse. The old codger, who was once the secret behind the first female Warlord’s success, stood at the edge of a small cave, which opened up into a small, underground city that was unmarked on any map. It was simple really, the town just didn’t exist. It was a fairly creative congregation of a roving band, known as the ‘Moving’, who offered support on dangerous missions. The old codger, turned and headed back into the cave, before being stopped by the Tengu they were sent to assist.

[color=LightSalmon]“You know, my friend, they will never let you past the first mile into the forest. That’s why they sent us.” [/color]

The bird man, twisted a piece of paper into the shape of a flightless bird and blew into it. The magical miasma well from his gut and gave life to the tiny creature, who immediately took off towards the forest and disappeared into the foliage. [color=DarkKhaki]“Are they on their way?”[/color] He asked, an obvious twinge of disdain in his voice.

The man, the old man, had long since stopped worrying about such things as tactics; his love had been slain in Eclava’s barrage on the Summit. He had been passing on strategy to the woman as they made love, allowing her tyo take his place as a Warlord in the Summit. Many did not think the woman could handle such responsibility, but with him hidden from sight, she performed admirably. [color=LightSalmon]“Yes, they should be arriving with the end of the day, some may already be here.” [/color]The man lifted his hand and placed it on the armored shoulder of the Tengu, and patted softly. [color=LightSalmon]“Come, join me in drink - the day is drawing to it’s peak height, and the Kyut Forest Elves have some interesting insight on the arrangements that’ll be attempting to thwart our ploy.” [/color]

Both men turned and entered the cave, the darkness wrapping around them - as statuesque warriors lined the halls, prepared for any attempted strike against the Moving. 

[b][center]Moving Forward[/center][/b]

[color=SaddleBrown]\ Hmph, we haven’t had much contact with the Wolven creature that remained shackled for so long. I hope he has not forgotten the fact that is place is drawing near and that he is needed for our plan. \[/color]

[color=Green]/ I am not worried, you worrisome creature. With Michael as forlorn as he is, and the rest of the Gods and Goddesses attempting to draw him from his funk, we have adequate time to perfect the ritual. Besides, Lloth has been sneaking around attempting to gain knowledge on what we are attempting here, so it is for the best that he remains out of contact, so to speak./[/color]

[color=SaddleBrown]\ The God of the Beastkin does not worry, you slimy lizard. If Alchviem is to be here at the right time, all pieces must be in their place. That is how a pride hunts, that is how the strong survive, by playing their roles. Surely, Wolvus would have realized that. \[/color]

[color=Green]/ Do not fret, Anomanderis, I am completely confident in the Wolven, the chains wove around him will be the perfect conduit; his release and Falden’s entry into the hallowed halls of our fair heaven. Besides, as it were, even my own preparations are not complete yet. The rituals needed for this far exceed what I am capable of without the prayers of my flock. Do not worry, I can do it, but it will continue to take me a while.\[/color]