[center][h1][color=steelblue]The Pantheon[/color][/h1][/center]

 [indent]Where stood a simple marble throne suddenly appeared the Lord of Wind & Storm. The presence of Ashkar was accompanied by the whispers of a thousand winds, that slipped into the chamber, and searched for every empty corner. Ashkar towered above the room, seated as he was upon his throne, carved with runes and symbols from the world before the Cataclysm. His eyes flashed brilliant white, then deepest black and shades of grey in-between. Anger. Empathy. Fear. Joy. The gods face was a revolving window of emotion, fickle as the winds he claimed dominion over. 

 His mind raged. The prayers that had once calmed his mind were silent now that the world was empty-indeed non-existent. Ashkar longed for a people to claim as his own, not as a thing of pride or delusion-but out of necessity. The songs and chants his people would recite would give clarity and sequence to his disjointed divine mind. 

 [color=9966CC][i]"Can we not design soil for their feet before we breathe life into them?"[/i][/color]
 
Angry words from Ashkars' arachnid sister. 

 [color=lightblue]"I agree, Miralis,"[/color] said Ashkar. The words spoken from his 12 mouths were out of sync the words echoed around the room. [color=lightblue]"We need to begin the world again as soon as possible. However, I applaud your creation Miralis,"[/color] said Ashkar, gesturing to the worm-things writhing on the floor. [color=lightblue]"Obscene as they may be-but no matter. Let us begin the world again in haste. Where are the others?"[/color][/indent]