Nirvana, the realm of eternal combat. The lord of bloodshed’s divine realm was one, massive forest. Woods stretching endlessly, occasionally with a clearing for a creek or a small flow. The woods were full of game and predators living their eternal lives. You could die here, but once the sun went back up the next day deer would find itself awakening near creeks and wolves near their own pack. It was here Asivar remained for the entirety of the Silence. But the forest was not calm. No it was a blood-soaked place of violence, murder and a criminal amount of rage.

In the epicenter of the realm stood Asivar’s Hall. A massive, wood construction separated in 2 parts. The most eastern part was filled with beds, the western part was a massive hall filled with benches and tables. At the center of the feasting hall was a vat of ale and a table filled with cooked meat. That, every morning, was refilled. Near the entrance was the sacrificial table.

From the early dawn, right when the sun came up the chosen Champions of Asivar would rise up from their beds. Taking up their weapons from the feasting hall, they marched outside. To the clearing before the hall. Where, with a single horn blow from Asivar, chaos was unleashed. In a massive free-for-all warriors struck at each other. Fighting for almost the entire day. Those fallen were carried back towards the beds, where they’d rise again the next day. Re-invigorated. But not all participated in the mad battle. Some picked up their bow and arrows and stalked the forests. Nirvana was a place of Eternal Battle and Eternal Hunt. But once the moon came up, all warriors dropped their weapons, and the hunters were welcomed back to the hall from their long day of stalking their prey. The dead animals are to be thrown on the sacrificial table, from which they disappear. Serving merely to appease Asivar and prove that they were worthy of the Eternal Hunt and Eternal Battle. Every night he grants his warriors their wish. To feast on infinite ale and meat. Like madmen, they devoured the food while raging and shouting at each other. Fistfights at night are common. But all retire towards their sleeping quarters because only then can the sun come upon again. Dawning a new day of battle.

And so Asivar remained in his realm, fighting or hunting among his Chosen. Maddened every day with blood. Trying to fight off the yearning to return to the real world. His God War was not yet won, nor lost. It had to continue. And on a faithful day, when he just finished decapitating one of his own Chosen, did a white wolf appear from among the forest. Asivar immediately knew this creature was not from here. It carried a letter in his mouth, which it gracefully laid before Asivar and ran away. Behind him the clamor of metal upon metal never seized as the God of Bloodshed read his message.
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Throwing open the large doors of Olympus Asivar marched towards his old throne. A crude construction of wood, bone, skulls, and fur. He slammed his massive war axe 'Avenger' into the table. A clear insult towards Ha, who forged the divine weapon back during the God Wars. The elegant metal has long since blackened and red, bloody veins pulsated its desire to strike out at something. It was not, in fact, the weapon Asivar would use mostly. It was fairly unworthy yet he carried it around as a stark reminder towards anyone of the God Wars he fought against his brother. With a grump, he took his ale-skin and took a sip of the bitter liquid inside, before he, begrudgingly spoke: “Speak, Kilgarrah. I have no desire to be among detestable company for long.” Though while he spoke to Kilgarrah, he eyed his age-old brother, Ha. Completely ignoring the annoying god, Iuppiter. If only he was the constant bringer of a storm, maybe then Asivar would grace him with a nod.