Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by SleepingSilence
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SleepingSilence OC, Plz No Stealz.

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Asmoday (God Of The Underworld)

Denizens of thousands, drawn to one. Streaks of spiraling crimson light, flourishing like a cyclone. Flames continuously spinning throughout the artificial skies. The flight’s movement captivated all below, ascending high enough to need assumptions on how loud their cheering was. Envisioning the roaring beneath, reaching his hand out where the stars fear to dwell. Vertically flipping over, keeping himself in the air, upside-down. Connecting the burning blades, forming St. Andrew’s Cross, keeping his body and legs straight. Spreading out both his arms while beaming down upon those always watched over. Counting subconsciously for a couple seconds before plummeting, the fire and the flashing accompanying his presence, until swords gracefully touched the soil extinguishing them both, causing a cloud of dissipating smoke. Followed by his feet landing on solid ground. The audience literally singing his praises, their voices carried to all who hear, applause echoed within The Underworld.

“Thank you everyone. I hope you enjoyed the show. Our celebration shall unleash envy across these lands. Animosity is the only entity that dies here. I want to hear joyous screams. ‘Life is only a path. Death is a destination.’” Asmoday exclaimed sheathing his swords on his back. Everyone repeated his declaration, over and over again. Asmoday placed his left hand over where the hollowness replaced his heart, dissonance suffocated the affection he was receiving…Eyes glaring at one demon, seven rows back, remaining still and silent.

“I’ve failed them…” That lingering thought couldn’t escape his mind.
* * *

Inside his golden castle walls, Asmoday let out some hearty laughter from upon his throne, slapping his knee, his golden cup runneth over. A demon holding a large bottle of wine, awkwardly laughed with him, rubbing the back of his neck, a gardening spade impaled through their foot. Asmoday gulped down the decadence swimming past his tongue, walking toward the demon, leaning over and pulling the tool out and handing it back over. Getting wine poured into his chalice. A bigger and bulkier demon rushed over carrying something wrapped in a large black sheet.

“Good new sir, I finished polishing and sharpening your-” They exclaimed stopping once Asmoday lifted up the sheet, grinning from ear to ear, patting the large demon’s shoulder.

“Wow, you’ve only just started and they’re already much brighter, I can practically see my reflection. Keep up the excellent work!” Asmoday said brimming with enthusiasm.

“Uh-um-Yes Sir. Thank you.” The big demon said before running off again, holding the blades like his life depended on it. Watching many demons quietly carrying large crates across the hallways from the opened doors. The demon cleared his throat, getting Asmoday’s attention fluttering his six wings.

“As I was saying-the words you instructed to be sent have been spreading, allowing us to reap this bountiful harvest, getting several years of resources and wine for far less than our average trading rates.”

“Precisely why I want everyone across my kingdom to drink to their soul’s content, a prideful king shouldn’t drink alone after all...” He said chugging the wine down, a little red running down his lips. The demon nodded starting to guzzle the rest from the wine bottle. Asmoday went toward his windows, lightly brushing his hair from his vision, watching the ongoing partying. The streets filled with dancing, drinking and fornication. Stabbing through the window with his claws, stepping through a portal, entering The Void. The temperature dropped, exhaling to reveal his breath. Pitch black, silent. The Overseer sits there, like a statue, on a precarious mass of bones, skulls littering the floor.

“This world has been filled with enough suffering, I’ll deliver true peace to all...through my words alone. My sons may handle those who belong here...Which, reminds me I should check up on them.” He left to his bedroom, sitting down near his desk and starting to grab several pieces of parchment and grabbing his feather pen, leaning over, rubbing his chin.

“Now-where do I begin?”











Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Spiffy
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Spiffy Prince of Peace

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Telios & Koritomo-san

in

The Battle for Love


Telios flew over the lands of the new war god Koritomo. It was strange visiting with the daughter of the lead usurper. Telios hated the former war for killing his father Ephra, but his daughter seemed very reasonable and attractive. His former attachment to the goddess of nature ended after he found out she had been sleeping around with anyone and anything. Enough was enough! This time he was aiming to court Koritomo as well as have his first born son Telos prepared for battle. They would undoubtedly need an ally in their fight like Koritomo. More importantly then that though, Telios wanted a partner that would stick with him through the good and bad times. He also wanted somebody to love other then his son.

Some time later, Telios arrived with 10 large, ready for war Griffins, as well as a single phoenix made of pure sunlight. It required no food, just the light from the sun. He dropped his gifts off at the stables with an attendant, besides the phoenix, who seemed more then a little surprised at the large beasts. Telios spoke to the boy with a hefty deep voice in his 14 foot frame, "They have been trained, have no fear." Then he waved at them to proceed. The Griffins trotted forward to the boy. "You have a new master now." Telios said. Then he headed toward the desired meeting area. He realized finally, that he was a little large for the facilities and shrank his form to that of a large man, about 7 ft tall. Heading inside he knelt at the table provided outside the war room.

A woman stood pouring over a rather large map, Silver-blonde hair pulled back in a half bun ponytail, blue-violet eyes scanning over territories within her own lands. Small figurines of varying creatures were positioned throughout, some were far more clustered while others were spread far more out. A variety of Candles were spread about, adding further illumination to the streaks of sunlight that were pouring in through the windows within her War room. When she was not in here, usually she took to the city to see how her people were doing, but this morning she was expecting far too many people to arrive for her to even bother leaving the confines of her castle.This morning, she recalled that Telios, the God of the Sun, was intending on visiting his Son though he had expressed interest in seeing her as well. It was a strange thing, but she did not bother questioning it at the moment as it very well could be something as simple as discussing their alliance thanks to her agreement to train the boy he had sent to her. Lifting her eyes from the map before her, she spotted a shadowed figure on the other side of the door, the rice paper doing nothing to hide their presence. ”You may enter,” she stated before they even had the chance to knock, the only ones who ever dared bother her when she was busy planning out attacks on the enemies within her lands were her attendants, it was likely someone had arrived. “Koritomo-sama, one of your guests have arrived, I have him waiting in the sitting room,” a young man said after sliding open the door. “Ah, it seems Telios-san has arrived earlier than I expected him too,” she muttered to herself, giving the attendant a small wave of her hand in a dismissive manner, ”Please let him know that I will be there in a moment.” There was a soft clicking sound as she tapped one of her metal ‘claws’ on the table before she let out a sigh and headed for the door that the Attendant had left in a hurry to do as was bid of him. Smoothing out her Kimono, she left the room, sliding the door closed behind her before walking through the maze of halls and arriving at the sitting room. While she did have her Daisho at her side, she knew Telios was not there to harm her and made a point of removing it and placing it on a stand she had off to the side. ”Good morning Telios-san,” she said as she turned with a smile to greet her fellow God.

"Good morning, Koritomo..-san," he said a little awkwardly as he stood up, not used to the "san" part, "I wanted to visit with you today and discuss the future..Wouldn't you come for a ride in my chariot as we..discuss..?" As he finished, the bright yellow phoenix flew over to Koritomo, did a couple of spirals in the air and landed on her shoulder. It was a beautiful creature and shone brilliantly in the room.

Koritomo brought her hand up and gently ran her fingers along the creature’s shining feathers. She had always envied Telios’s Phoenixes, but had never made mention of the fact simply because she had some beautiful creatures within her lands. ”It would be rude of me to refuse,” she replied with a small smile on her face, it was clear that she really did like the creature that had made her shoulder it’s perch, ”It has been some time since I have seen those lovely Griffins of your’s after all.” Telios smiled.

Though lovely wasn't the word he'd use to describe it, the god of war had the right to use the adjective of her choice. Telios began walking outdoors with Koritomo toward the stables where the griffins were being kept. He turned to his companion and said, "They are completely at your beck and call now."

Koritomo raised a brow, wondering why he had brought so many, and what exactly he had meant by them being at her beck and call. However, it did not take her very long to come to her own conclusion, which prompted her to turn to the Sun God with a curious look on her face. "A gift?" she questioned, "And if that is indeed the case I am afraid that I have nothing ready for you to reciprocate such a wonderful thing you have allowed me to have."

Telios shook his head and smiled, "No need! All I ask is that you take a ride with me in my chariot above your lands." Telios whistled and two pegasil dragging a golden sun chariot trotted towards them. He stepped inside. The chariot was much larger then his current 7ft frame inhabited. He laughed at the comical sight and reached his hand out to help Koritomo aboard.

The young Goddess accepted the help that was offered as she boarded the chariot, rather curious to know exactly what business he wished to discuss with her during the upcoming ride that would call for such an extravagant gift as the Griffins he had given to her. Out of the gods that currently existed, she was the most recent to be born, the daughter of War and life. Where her father had been the sword of war, she had taken up the mantle of shield thanks to her mother's influence. Her own honor drove her to protect those that needed it, and punish those who deserved it.

After Koritomo boarded, Telios took the reigns of the pegasil and bid them to ascend. They began running forward and flapping their large wings. After a few seconds they were airborne. A few minutes after that they were high in the sky, overlooking Koritomo's dwelling place. Pleased with his creature's Telios breathed in the fresh air and spoke to his companion, "Beautiful view, isn't it?" He waited for her to respond and continued, "The reason I wanted to talk with you is to pursue your hand..in marriage." He turned to her to see her response finishing, "There is no other woman on earth as beautiful as you are. Your skill with weapons, and war is unparalleled and I would be honored to call you my wife." Telios was a very upfront individual, he wasn't playing games and was dead serious about his intentions. Very bold in his approach.

There was nothing but silence for some time, Koritomo's expression a mask as her mind began to turn over the words that he had said to her. The idea that someone wanted her hand in marriage was a bit confusing to her, she was young, still well in the phase of proving to everyone that she was a Goddess of War to be trusted. There was also the fact that he had gone so far as to compliment her capabilities on the battlefield as well as her ability to handle her weapons, but she wasn't sure she was ready for marriage of any kind just yet. "You want me to marry you," she finally said, her voice shockingly even, "I must admit that I was not expecting you to ask such a thing, but I hope that you understand that I need some time to consider your request as it is not something to take lightly."

Telios listened intently to the god of war. He nodded as she described her feelings to the sun god. When finished he replied lightly, "I understand if you need some time to think about everything. You are a capable god and I support your position in the pantheon." They continued for another half hour enjoying the clouds and shining scenery. The phoenix flew about in perfect tranquility. It burst into flames high above the air putting on a show for the gods.

Afterward,they landed back on the ground. Telios got out and attempted to help Koritomo get down. He reached out to kiss her hand. Afterward, he said, "Thank you for coming with me. Think about what I said and I will be sure to visit with you again." He waited for her reply and asked about his son, "How is Telos' training coming along? Is he listening like I've told him?"

Koritomo accepted his help on the dismount and nodded her head in response to his question. "He is learning fast and well," she told the God, "You are welcome to go to the Bushi Dojo within the city to visit him as training begins at sunrise." The young Goddess was relieved that he had not attempted to pressure her any further and had accepted her response. The ride had been lovely and she was rather pleased that her day seemed to start out well enough, though she soon had to deal with some diplomatic things. "I can have an attendant lead you to the Dojo if you would like, I am afraid that I have other things I must attend to soon, new arrivals and such."

Telios agreed to her offer stating, "I would like that." He let the attendant take him to the dojo to watch his son fight. The phoenix stayed near Koritomo. It knew she was its' new master. Telios waved as he headed off. The day started off well. He was confident Koritomo would soon fall for him. After all, who could resist his pure light? Maybe Oao. The future looked promising.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by A Lowly Wretch
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A Lowly Wretch The Listless Loiterer

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Oao

Stealth is key.

Such is the life of the ods. The pale claws of an od grip his hand-hold well, hoisting him upwards despite the great weight of his back satchel and weapon. Strung to his back with a spider silk cloth strap was a long pole, the grip to the small cannon head which hung from what was basically a belt tied around the hip. Upon his back sat a bag slung parallel to it's weapon grip, half full with alchemical supplies. Despite his small size he carried himself nimbly up the rock face, quietly creeping up so as to not draw any unwanted attention.

This particular od was on a trip to gather some materials for alchemy among other things. His current bounty was a particular type of root which reached deep, deep enough that it even reached as far as their distant little slice of the world. These roots were sought after as a delicacy of their people, something which adds flavor to their otherwise bland diet of moss and bat meat.

As he reached the top, the tunnel leveling out horizontally, he proceeded with caution, his frame low to avoid the notice of predators which may potentially be hanging overhead. Though they dined on bats for the occasional feast more often than not it was the bats which dined well for these winged mammals had a taste for the warm blood of the ods and the size enough to carry a fully grown human off in it's grip, let alone an od. Luckily for this one there were none down this particular junction.

_
The prize was in sight. Climbing up the side of the tunnel to reach at the roof the od clung tight, holding himself steady as he produced a long tool with a sharp scissor-like end for clipping the roots which poked out from above. Just as he was about to clip off a single portion of the root a piercing scream rang out from deep within the tunnel. This scream though similar in tone to the squeaky language of the ods possessed an unnatural reverberation, distinctly distinguishing it as the sound of something that was distinctly non-od.

As the scream carried the od did flee, leaping from the wall to the floor and bolting down the way it came, taking only enough time to avoid tripping over the tail of it's distinctly sapphire blue spider silk coat. He stalled before the deep descending downward tunnel, clambering over the edge and scurrying down the side of the winding hole.

_
Oao sat upon the cold damp stone, it's scream still echoing distantly. It did not need air but it's chest did heave, it's heart beating with the rapidity of a rabbit's own. It's eyes as dark as the void were wide with fear, darting quickly around to confirm reality. It was alone, this now was made certain.

"A-a-a-a lady!? A vision? No, a dream! A dream? I-i-i-i don't dream!? No sleep! I don't sleep, I haven't slept since I-uh-i-i- um."

It looked down at it's bony little fingers, counting on them until it realized it's fingers don't count past four.

"Mu-mu-more than I can count... Why did I doze? How did I doze? And who was that!? A person, a lady figure... Lady figure... Who... I don't know. I don't know. I cannot trust, I- I cannot trust them. Not until... Not until I know."

_
It gripped it's head, it's fingers scrunching up it's surprisingly smooth and silky hair as it clutched it's skull, the small thing rocking back and forth until a gentle pair of hands gently set themselves upon it's shoulders. It knew the owner of these thin ink black hands for it was a dark form, living darkness given shape by Oao's own will. The form of darkness gently held Oao in it's arms, softly petting it's long black hair.

"Now now Oao... You are safe. No one knows you are here. You are safe."

The faint, whispery voice was Oao's own. It was extending it's voice through the dark form to speak to itself, to usher words of comfort from the closest thing to a friend it could trust. When it was finally coaxed into a state of relaxation it finally released the mass, the darkness returning from whence it came. Oao now stood, Reaching out to scan the many tunnels and caverns that comprise it's lands through small nodules of darkness. It's vision split into a compound state through which it was able to see through each and every available nodule simultaneously. The echoes of thousands upon thousands of caverns filled it's rather elfin ears. The variety of airs left sensations of touch upon it's snow white skin, each nodule but a point upon it's body which it could feel through. Their smells, their tastes, all sensations were split upon the many small blobs of darkness it had left about to serve as it's eyes, ears and more across it's vast subterranian realm.

Little could enter the underground without it's knowing.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Sisyphus
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Sisyphus

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Legorian, The Deep One


It always started with a single note. Lymir, the high priest of the Deepfolk, stood on the roof of the temple, his coral staff clutched in one hand turned white from age. All around him was Kalanai, the abyssal city - the city was above and below him, carved into the stone walls and lit with bioluminescent plant pods. His fellow deepfolk swam to and fro in their nightly business; the hustle and bustle of a great metropolis was the same above or below the waves. Lymir opened his mouth, and the water echoed with a single deep, sonorous voice.

All around, the Deepfolk paused, and one by one they lifted their voices to join in the wordless melody. Every deepfolk was born knowing the song of the sea, and they sang it nightly with their kin until their dying day. In smaller tribes or towns, the song would be simple, quiet, and slow - in Kalanai, of course, it was more of a production. Below Lymir, the conductor of the Deep Orchestra signaled his assembled band to begin, and the musicians began to pluck at twangy instruments made of shell and fishguts. Above, a passing pod of whales began to hum in time with the song, and the great drum at the heart of the city began to beat in time to the music.

All of this, Legorian saw and heard from his palace window. It could be said that the God of the Sea was troubled, but when was that not true these days? Even still, there was a disquiet in his soul that the music of his people did not still. "Breathing light," he murmured to himself. "Red air, spinning. Ungod rising. Burning wheel bearing down, breathing light, breathing red. Seventeen prayers to a dead god. Up spears, up claws, up spinning, up light."

"Father?" a clear, cautious voice interrupted Legorian's pontification, and the mad god turned to see his son Akatun enter his chambers, clad in coral armor as usual. The demigod waved his hand over the plant-bulb in the center of the room, causing it to stir into a soft, pale glow, and brought a fist to his chest. "You summoned me? Are you well?"

"My son," Legorian said, his deep voice echoing in the water. "You did well to come so quickly. Tell me of your time above, with the she-war."

Akatun furrowed his black brow. "The surface is... strange. I often forget that I was born there, it seems so different. They are so disconnected up there, from themselves, from each other, from the world. The sun is... bright, and harsh, but there is beauty in that harshness. Koritomo is not what you would expect - not like her father at all. She's kind, noble even, but she's as fierce a warrior as you could hope to meet. I have much more to learn from her."

Legorian tilted his head. "You wish to return, my son?"

"I... do," the demigod said, nodding slowly. "It has been good to return and visit with my home and my men, but I am not the warrior I could be, not yet. And there are others like me, children of gods. I wish to see them again."

The Mad God turned. The song was speeding up outside; every Deepfolk in the city was singing, every instrument raised to join the chorus, every whale and squid that swam through the trench humming in time with the music. Finally, Legorian nodded. "Return, then. Take my fastest crab and however many soldiers you would wish for. Go to the coral smiths before you leave and select a gift for Koritomo from me - let her know it is on account of her late father."

Akatun brought his fist to his chest, a broad smile on his face. "Thank you, father. It will be as you say."

The demigod departed, and Legorian called after him, "And send a message to your sister while you're at it! Tell her that she and her host can expect a visit from me soon." There was much to do in this newer, madder world, Legorian reflected as the song outside drew to a close. He would begin by having words with Leoric.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Big Dread
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Big Dread Absurdist Hero

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Murder & The Moon


A terrible and agonized scream broke the silence of the night. It was the third the men of the inn had heard in as many minutes. The Bracelli inn was completely silent. They dared not bring attention to themselves on this misty and cold night. They had all gathered for drinks and merriment. That had lasted for hours before the first scream. That first scream had been so strange and piercing that all of them had stopped, the juggler in the corner even missed his catch and his colorful balls fell to the floor. The second scream had made everyone realize that something was very wrong. They could feel it, hell, they could taste it in the air around them. By the third scream, they had all grabbed something to defend themselves with.

The old innkeep had a long cleaver, his wife a thick club. A few of the dandies in at the bar had been carrying curved ship-sabers and had those in hand. The local hunter was among them and had loaded his wheellock musket, the weapon normally only used to pick off deer or boar in the surrounding area. They were not used to this kind of thing here. They all had chosen to live in this more central part of Braceleth because it was quiet. They stayed away from the cities as much as they could. Apparently the madmen who roamed the cities at night had come here too. There were a number of other men in the main room of the inn who had matchlock muskets or knives, ready for whatever had killed those people to come through the door.

Of course, none of them actually wanted anything to come through the door at all. They had extinguished all but a single lantern that sat on the bar to hopefully make it seem like there was no one here at all. They huddled, waiting, hoping, panic creeping ever closer as they waited in the total silence of the inn. Total silence aside from the low sobbing and praying from one of the whores who worked out of the inn.

Their silence was violated by the sound of a heavy step on the deck of the inn. The hollow thunk of a hard riding boot and the tired groan of the old planks. Whoever was out there was damned heavy. “That bastard has armor on.” one of the saber armed sailors whispered to no one in particular,. That assessment did not help the panic of the waiting citizens. They had seven guns between them, more than enough to make short work of even a man in full plate armor, but, the fact someone was wearing armor changed things. What if he was not alone? What if this was some kind of raid? Their minds all shattered at once as the door slowly creaked open, revealing their stalker.

He was not a man in armor, nor was he a man at all, not really. He was far too tall to be a man, twice the height of even the largest of any man these people had seen. His long and dripping form ducked low, slipping into the inn with a casual gait. The floor groaned in protest as his weight settled on it. As he slid into the room it became clear what killed the people outside. His hand clasped an ax dripping with blood that was a monster in it’s own right. They all looked at it, feeling their blood turn cold as their heart rate pounded ever harder. The sound the ax made as it moved the air was like the fangs of some great serpent scratching against old rusty steel. They did not know this, but, they all thought it sounded like exactly the same thing. The people did also not stop to think of how an ax stirring the air could make any sound at all. The man who held the ax was a giant in a long blood stain coat with a tattered gray scarf around his neck. On his head sat a wide brimmed traveler’s hat and he had what looked like bandages over his eyes.

The room was still as everyone looked at the grinning monster before them. A hiss escaped the giant’s mouth as it opened and he spoke, his voice seeming to echo in their minds and sound accented and yet still very familiar, “How is your local surgeon?”
A rattle of muskets was his only reply as everyone with a gun in the room opened fire on the giant mad man. The bullets tore into him and he staggered back for only a second before howling with words that were mostly laughter, “APPARENTLY HE’S GREAT!”
The next minute was a blur of madness. After that first volley of muskets there was no more resistance. The giant swept through them like a scythe through wheat. His ax flashed, his body turned, his hands snapped out, his teeth crushed throats. In a time somewhere between a few seconds and an eternity, everyone was dead and the floor was slick with spilled blood. There was only one person left, blessed with blood, though, a person would be a very poor description. That mad man was Murder. He was Sleeth Rethrah, and he killed them all for a purpose.
He slammed his ax down, burying it in the hard floor with casual ease. He snapped his hands upward, fingers brushing the ceiling of the main room. His words came out quick and in a tongue that almost none of his people would know. He spoke the language of the far off people of the Moon Goddess, he spoke in feverish devotion. He dedicated the blood letting and all their bodies to the great Lady of the Full Face. He blessed her with this sacrifice, called her name six times, and then demanded her presence. With that done, he turned toward the hearth of the inn and snapped his hands toward it, spraying the embers with the blood of the fallen. The embers burst to life in sanguine flames. “Come now.” he whispered in a sultry tone, “Do not leave me alone on this night when I have such need of interesting company and plenty to talk with you about.” He grinned a blind and blood stained grin at the roaring flames, waiting for his ‘sister’ to appear.

At the time the Goddess had felt the request for her presence, or rather the demand for it, she had been enjoying a meal of hearts and a few things of fruit. Letting out an annoyed groan she stood to her full height, topping out at 15 feet unless you counted the Grand set of antlers on her head that added about a foot and a half to her height. “You better not be wasting my time,” she growled to no one in particular as she made her way to the portal that The god of Knowledge made available to the others. It was strange considering the summons for her had not come from her own domain, but the domain of another, and the sacrifice had been substantial.

When she finally appeared in the tavern, she looked around with a giddy expression on her face at the amount of blood that was splattered around the building. “Aaaah, Murder,” Meztliyoatl purred at the sight of the other God, “What can I do for you this fine and bloody evening?” Her eyes twinkled with amusement as the very blood Sleeth had spilled for her began to move towards her, as if her presence called to it. The last time she had seen this much bloodshed for her, it had been an entire village killed because a foolish man thought he could get her to do what he wanted. Well, he had been disappointed when she simply ripped the heart out of his chest and ate it.

“You know, this slaughter is lovely, I think the red improves on the decor immensely,” she told the other God, “Though it won’t be here long enough to make a lasting impression I’m afraid.” She let out a sigh before moving closer to the shorter God, one of her hands idly spinning one of the many knives she carried with her. If she did not have her Sword or her Bow, she at least had a knife to keep her hands amused when she wasn’t tearing people limb from limb.

“We are blessed with blood indeed.” Sleeth Rethrah said with reverence as the knife twirling goddess came closer. He shook out his bandaged hands slightly, splattering some of the blood from his hands to the floor by her feet. The blood that coated his clothing and body was already swirling down his form and to the floor to reach the power he had dedicated it to. “Shall we take a step outside into the moonlight?” he said, his face still pulled into a wild grin, inhumanly large, “I think this building is far too small to give proper clearance for your impressive rack.”he chuckled, his blind eyes scanning her briefly before he moved to the side and ducked out of the inn and out into the full moon’s glow.

He walked forward to the middle of the empty cobblestone street, raising his hands palm up as if feeling the light that was bathing him. He had left his ax in the inn and would need to go back to get it later, but, he did not think he would need it during this conversation, not with his friend. “I unfortunately called you out here for something more than a pleasant stroll in your majestic light, Meztilyoatl.” he said, dropping his arms to his side making his great coat flutter slightly, “There are great shadows starting to whirl around us. Don’t you feel it? Smell it?” he turned to face her, hissing breath and running his tongue out into the air, steam puffing from his hot breath, “Taste it?”

The wild Goddess laughed at the God’s words, the sound two toned, half crazed yet completely sane all at once. “There are always things stirring in the night when it comes to the Gods my dear friend,” she said with a smile, “Though this one seems far more uppity I would think.” Now outside the Tavern, she was able to stand up to her full height, the last of the sacrificial blood sinking into her skin and pulling out a very pleased sigh. Now that she was not hunched over, she reached up and ran her fingers over her own antlers, happy that they were out enjoying the light of the very thing that represented her. “Come now, as fun as your riddles can be you know how I get when I’m interrupted from a meal, I was enjoying some nice hearts and some papaya.”

“Papaya?” Sleeth said, tilting his head in a disbelieving manner, “Now, what happened to the woman I knew a millenia ago? I think your words were, ‘I would never sully my heavenly tongue with something that didn’t bleed when you cut it.’ “ he quoted, well misquoted heavily, a statement she had made to him once when they had eaten together and he had brought some of his people’s famous grapes. Of course, he had pointed out they bled fruit blood and even had skin you could pierce. He had even offer wine to her as it was perhaps the best extrapolation of ‘fruit blood’ he could think of. Needless to say, the picnic had been a disaster for the nearby tribe.

“Fruit aside,” Sleeth said, his grin returning just as suddenly as it had left his face, “This is the time, my lovely. I know you know it.” he said, turning and starting to stroll down the road in the moonlight, all the population of the dark village behind locked doors and cowering after so much sound of slaughter. “The heavens are divided, they are trying to cling to something and they will act like burrs from a prickle plant and stick to whatever coat tails drag near them and look fancy enough.” He turned his blind face toward her slightly, seeing her in the pulsing vision that he possessed. It was hardly vision at all. It was merely a removal of all visual impairment, but, not vision at all. He saw by knowing and knew what he saw only by memory. ”We can’t let someone waltz in and steal the throne for themselves, putting little rules and restrictions on us. You know if that glowing orb in the sky on the other side of the night gets his way you and I are both going to find ourselves on the wrong side of a trial.” his grin widened, if that was even possible, “Besides, I bet it is going to get really bloody really soon.”

A hissing noise passed her clenched teeth at the hint towards Telios, a God she tolerated because his existence was necessary, but she denied his sun from her Domain. “No one deserves to sit in that Throne,” she growled out, “No one should rule above us Gods, I much rather be left to my own devices and murder as I please. It’s not like I bother others with it as I do so, they are often bandits or evil doers anyway… a few children here or there.” She grinned at Sleeth, her own smile rather large as well, showing insanely sharp fangs. Deer like ears swiveled a bit as she listened to the hushed and terrified voices behind closed doors. She loved fear, thrived in it in a similar way to the blood offerings though it gave her no power. “I will never give anyone my Center of power.”

Sleeth nodded to her, turning toward her and stopping his walk. His hat brim bobbed as he did so. “Exactly!” he said excitedly, pointing to her and then clapping his large cloth wrapped hands together, “You would be the one to understand best. We do not need a king or queen of the gods. What is a king to a God?” he gestured outward and took a few steps backward, “Why would we gods not just meet and come to a consensus every hundred years or so? Establish what needs to be done and handle our business as equals? Are we not all Heavenly and divine after all?” he raised his hands toward her, head tilting in question as if he needed her confirmation on that point. “This is why I called you here, my lovely, this is what I wanted to talk about.” he said, white teeth gleaming in the night as if they were possessed of an inner light of their own.

“I agree, a council would be best for everyone, no one needs another breathing down their necks, I certainly don’t,” she stated calmly, “My power relies so heavily on sacrifices of blood and I feel they would dwindle in numbers if there is a King or a Queen, they may simply fear that I would become too powerful. Though I doubt anyone could become more powerful than the Daughter of Life and War, have you spoken to her about this? She seems like a smart child, and you seem to like her well enough as she does you.” The antlered female moved closer to the God of Murder and playfully shoved him, it was a game she enjoyed playing considering her violent tendencies and that the man before her knew just how to play her games.

Sleeth took a step back at the shove, bracing himself. It was powerful enough to probably push a mortal’s arm right out of their socket and throw them to the earth with shattering force. To them, it was merely a bit of fun. “OH,” he said, his voice rumbling with a hint of mad giggles, “I talked with her a great deal when we were trying not to fight in the war. We talked far more than I think many people realize. I even sent my daughter to her as an envoy to her domain.” he brought himself forward suddenly and pushed Meztliyoatl back with his right hand. He pushed much harder than she did and centered his hand on her hip, trying to disturb her center of balance as he did so. “I think she will see reason when the cards start to fall over the whole world. When all the gods start to tip their hands a little too far.”

A maddened giggle escaped the animalistic Goddess as Sleeth shoved her back, causing her to have to stumble back a few inches before she outright tackled the man. She loved playing such games with him, no other god ever dared partake in her games, other than the War Goddess. In fact, she and Koritomo often helded mock wars, constantly practicing against one another just for the fun. Sleeth however, oh no, this God wasn’t afraid to get down and dirty with Meztliyoatl was in the mood for a little hand to hand combat. She never moved to kill him, she cared far too much for the God she had grown close to in the years since he had been ‘created’. Old as she may be, she had been extremely pleased to see there was a god who enjoyed killing as much as she did.

Sleeth was caught mostly off guard by her sudden aggression and was tackled right to the ground. He landed on his back, the wind flying out of him and she landed atop him. He let out a breathless howl of laughter and started immediately to find purchase on her, grabbing her by the arm with one hand and the horns with the other, torquing her to the side, reversing her pin quickly. He knelt slightly to the side of her, his knee on her ribs trying to hold her down. He removed his hand from her arm and raised it up to strike at her while he still held her antler with his other. He was striking at her face, but, not hard enough to really hurt her. He always loved it when she showed up and wanted to brawl a bit. He sometimes thought about trying to kill her, but, then he would probably get bored and she was far too much fun to ever put an end to.

Finding herself beneath him now, she used one hand to grab onto the fist he was trying to punch her with, her grip firm but not enough to break anything. The two sometimes found themselves being far more violent with one another, sometimes close to killing each other but never nothing they could not come back from. Jerking her head to the side a bit, she tried to punch him herself, aiming for the side of his ribs as she did so, eyes shining with glee. No one was able to satisfy her love for fighting the way he did, she always looked forward to their time together. Either they were fighting one another, or simply enjoying the slaughter of others together, a match made in hell with their Friendship.

The Murder God let out and huff of impact as her fist struck home in his ribs. He laughed as if she was telling him a rather amusing joke before he jerked the arm she had caught backward. He removed the arm only, his fist staying clasped in her hand, severed at the wrist. The bandages that held his hands on were still wrapped about the fist she was holding that now started to wriggle madly in her grip. He lifted the arm and the fell to the side, bringing his elbow and body down on top of her, aiming for her stomach with his sudden elbow drop. To do so he had to release his hold on her antler, but, that was fine. He liked to let her have control of her head most of the time when they fought. Sometimes she tried to, and succeeded at, goring him with those marvelous horns.

Her breath came out on a squeak, which was then followed up by a series of coughs, “I hate your hands sometimes,” she gasped out, pushing Sleeth off of her so she could roll to her feet, throwing his hand at his face. On the off chance she ever hit him with it, she found it utterly hilarious that she had basically made him hit himself. Her ears pinning back as she crouched down a bit, ready for a charge if it were to come, but also curious as to what would happen now that the two were no longer wrapped up with one another on the ground. Sometimes she entertained certain thoughts when it came to the God, but more often than not she simply enjoyed fighting him.
He caught his hand in his teeth like a dog having a ball thrown at it. He bit into the meaty side of the hand and then pushed his stump back into the empty wrist. He wrapped the bandage back up with his other hand and then released his grip on the strange hand with his teeth. He laughed. A deep and rumbling sound as she readied herself for a charge. He flexed his fingers a few times and then lowered his own stance. “You don’t hate my hands.” he said in a breathy whisper, “You know you can’t get enough of my little tricks.” he circled to the right slowly, eyeing her with missing eyes and swaying his head back and forth slightly, “Why don’t we bless this village with blood?” he suggested, his grin widening, “A little party, just the two of us to put our plans into something like an official capacity. We bless this whole village, every last one of them. We dedicate all the children to you, all the elderly to me, and then we split the rest down the middle. If it doesn’t work out even we can just dedicate the last one to our dear fallen father and laugh until the sun comes up.” he feinted toward her for one step and giggled again, “What do you say, my lovely?”

“Ooooooh, you know just how to get this little heart of mine pumping,” she said on her own giggle, “A God after my own heart my Dear Sleeth.” She winked at him before clapping her hands together and looking around the village, “Let us bless this village with blood, the sweet life sustenance that every mortal has coursing through their veins.” She tackled Sleeth once more, only this time it was with a hug as she nuzzled the God’s neck and giggled maniacally, oh how much fun the two were about to have.

He held her in his arms and spun as she hugged him. She was taller than he was but if he spun fast enough it still would make her feet spin out a little. He let her go after a few rotations and laughed like a loon. Suddenly, he snapped his head forward toward her and then looked around the empty streets from house to house. “Let’s begin.” he hissed with anticipation. The air seemed to vibrate with excitement between the two of them. “No godly weapons. We do this the old-old-old-old fashioned way.” he giggled. Without another word, he darted to the side, smashing through the first door he could, shattering it to splinters. The poor family in that house awoke only for a moment. They awoke just long enough to see the face that had guided their culture and lives. They awoke long enough to feel the fear, pain, and sorrow of brutality. The village was blessed by the two Divines. No one survived. No great loss.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by The Grey Dust
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Three stories intertwined. Four of Three sets of eyes that see. How will they be written? How would they conclude? Such are the mysteries to be observed, life seen through the eyes of others. There floating beneath the branches of his tree, a tree held sacred by his white moth cultists as his tree of meditation, the God of Knowledge watched the world go by. Few times did he leave the sanctum of his library, for few things could pull the attention of X from his books. It was his task after all, directed as the last mandate of the creator: to study, seek, and scribe. All things in creation were to be cataloged, known, and labeled, from concepts to living beings, of which long since he had done. There was a time once where he harvested, in the early moments of creation there was more work to be done, volumes to be recorded, but now with his fanatic followers he can afford to remain within his chamber, watching the universe through the hundreds of eyes which reveal the world to his mind.

X had sacrificed his eyes, but in return gained millions more. Dozens of visions, seen through the compound eyes bearing a many faceted view. Emirs seeing their cities below from above their palaces, Viziers looking at their Emirs to manipulate them, Guards to foil such plots. Each series of captured images painting the tale, without words it was hard to see the silent film, but understanding became easy when the greatest secrets are revealed, the thoughts too many write down as a ward against the failing memory. Plans written like notes, clear as day to amuse the watching god. Only the blind could keep secrets from X, or those perhaps living in darkness eternal. One day he must visit the curious god beneath the ground to record its thoughts and views yet it like he preferred the solitude of being peerless. Despite the ever present White Moth Magistrates that study beneath him, waiting for X to bless them with a few words of knowledge. Yet his silence was hard to overcome, almost aloof to the praises and worships of his followers. X did not demand empty laud, he required they do as he: to seek, study, and scribe. Only a few spells and incantation broke the silence, else most of the Magistrates kept the eerie ambiance of a greater institution of learning, exclusive and cold, beyond the reach of commoners.

Alas, the visions of another god. And then darkness. So ends the series, the melodrama cut short as the sight faded and was replaced with another. It would be some time before the channel returned in the underworld, and until, then perhaps X sought to focus in sights on the three who would bring a new age about. Imhotep, a tinkerer, working on his machines for the future. What shall become of him? Should X nudge the mortal with divine inspiration? Or should he intercede and lock the secrets the man was so close to discovering away? Perhaps it would be wise to see how far the man can accomplish on his own before throwing the gods into an arms race. Fire was the first scrap of knowledge so casually given, and look what humans have made of it. Then there was Atefir and Astaros. Either a paradox in his own sense of the word. Two experiments ran side by side, a human turned into a demigod and a demigod of humans, which would complete the apotheosis first? Who shall cast off the mortal cocoon and transform himself? The allegory of a fluttering desert moth. Why One had fallen even now, shedding from the meditation tree the rare petal to gently float into the hand of a god.

With the stirring of a god's hands, the transformation began as wings folded out and legs began to crawl against the divine palm. The twitching antennae, the unsteady and uncertain flap of powdery wings. The new being finding itself in the presence of its creator, X the God of knowledge, secrets and magic. Uncertain, of its magical birth, the creature crept along, feasting on the abundance of divine magic until its wings were strong enough to lift itself off the palm. There without looking back the Moth began to take to the air.

Fly little moth.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by BCTheEntity
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Legio, God of Mankind

For years now, Legio had been considering what was to be done with the Throne of the King of the Gods. The former King, rather; Ephra’s death had been unfortunate, and perhaps avoidable if he hadn’t separated War and Life, but it stood that it was his death that left it empty nonetheless. And whilst Legio had felt himself content to let sleeping dogs lie, as the phrase went, he had been struck with ever-increasing awareness that for as long as the throne went unoccupied, the more likely it was that… unsavoury forces, he could say, would make a move to take it for themselves.

And that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing on its own. Only, if a god rose to supremacy who did not have Man’s best interests in mind, it’d almost certainly mean their suppression for a very, very long time. Knowing the nature of gods, it could well be eternal - though his father’s reign was supposed to be essentially eternal too, and that didn’t pan out. Nor would it, when Mankind finally achieved their utmost… if, should a deity with bad opinions of them make themselves ruler.

And alas, that could be any of them. In truth, Legio lacked many enemies - though he’d certainly never forgive himself if Sylendre somehow managed to crown herself Queen - but many deities had views of Humanity Untainted that were, to put it lightly, neutral at best. And in truth, even those who held positive opinions of them now might change their minds if they perceived a threat. Even Telios, a staunch companion with no reason to see humans as dangerous now, might well decide later on that they needed to be put down. And for what? Achieving what was in effect their birthright as a race, pulling themselves up when all other races were handed the laurels to sit upon by the deities who formed them?

Or, perhaps he was being paranoid. Over-thinking things too much, and admittedly giving his allies less credit than they deserved. Yet… humans had achieved so much in such a short time. It was his very purpose to guide them, to greatness if he were to be asked. What sort of god was he if he allowed them to squander the abilities he knew they possessed, the tools they had already produced and those they might yet create?

This train of thought was processed but slowly, for it was a matter that required careful thought to avoid any missteps. In the end, though, Legio came to his conclusion.

And so it was that he appeared one day in the grandest cathedral of Ephrum, armed and armoured in his full splendour, to hover before a congregation of worshippers and priests who had not expected him to appear to their cries of “come before us, O Master of Mankind”, and who were justifiably awestruck by his appearance. The words he spoke to them and to the city as a whole, laced with grandeur that would be unnecessary in the presence of another deity, and in time in the presence of humanity itself, were thus:

‘Heed me, my children, for I have come to a decision about the future. Mine, and indirectly yours. I do so charge ye, to let it be known throughout the world, in the settlements and cities alike of the human race: Legio, the Emperor of Mankind, seeks to claim the divine throne once held by Ephra, to become King of the Gods, that I might better serve the human race who I was created to protect, and to ensure Mankind as a whole can bring themselves to ever greater heights. Spread this message, and ensure all of humanity is united in this, what might be the single most important endeavour of your race to date. Succeed, and the glory of Mankind shall be eternal.’

The god of Man had never been one for subtlety. He knew full-well that word would spread relatively quickly to the lands of the other gods, who of course may take exception to his announcement. That is, if they didn’t learn it from Legio himself first; the human masses were ever active, and so too must he be if he was to succeed in his quest. The most likely places he’d succeed would be those he currently considered allies, of course, and once they were persuaded, he’d have the support to extend his diplomacy to other, less amenable deities… and then, beyond.

His first stop, the most likely ally of his, would assuredly be Koritomo. The Goddess of War would be invaluable, should it come down to war in the end. And since he could, he decide to fly himself to her lands rather than teleporting directly; he felt the scenic route might be nice for a change. It wasn’t often he got the opportunity to gaze over the landscapes of the world as he soared above them, after all, and if what came next was as time-consuming as he imagined it would be, he might not get another chance.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Dogematix
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"It still doesn't quite feel real, does it?" Piped up the childlike voice of the halfling, made somber by the bleak sight beyond the balcony window.

All they received was a resigned grunt from their peer. "Hmm." Nodded the elf, always one of few words.

Down below them was the monument to those of the University and cathedral that had fallen in the war. A ceremonial graveyard, littered with white headstones in their neat rows and at the centre a statue representing the clerics and healers that had fallen in the conflict. Humans, elves, halflings and dwarfs made immortal in alabaster stone and locked in their various movements of action and care. The Lady Aela had closed the borders to those looking for violence, declaring neutrality and offering succor to those who found their way to Shan'Rael looking for peace. Yet that had not stopped her own citizens from joining the fray.

Students of both the divine university's schools had seen it as their sworn duty to leave their homes and putt heir talents to use. Some wandered wherever they thought they were needed, others joined the armies of the side that suited their own philosophical or political leanings. None were able to avoid being caught up in the violence. The gardens around the campus were locked in the beauty of a near perpetual summer and yet even they could not hide the morbid reminder of all those they had lost. Everyone who passed was often heard to comment something along the lines of "Too many stones." When they saw the graveyard. And still it only represented those who had died to the war, others had still come home scarred and wounded in horrible ways both inside and out. Shan'Rael and the world would feel these effects for generations to come.

And so it fell to the two heads of the medicus and clergy to see that their institution got back on its feet. Perhaps if they lead the way the country would follow. The two had spent days at work on plans and schemes that might be able to get things starting and now they stood ready. Ready to stop simply patching up the old wounds and issues and to take on a more aggressive form of treatment.

Melanie Westwick, a matronly halfling, raised along the country banks of an estuary of the Salren had brought herself up to be the chief academic of the university and head of the medicus faculty. Her red curls had gone short and grey with age but her crinckled eyes and easy smile gave her the universal charm that made her a surrogate mother to many a first year sick for home. Now here should stood, agreeing and ready to contact the Shan'Rael military and to begin training the soldiers in surgery. She would have been lying if she claimed the idea of such rough company did not intimidate her.

She wasn't without her own training though. The elf by her side was terse company at the best of times and even he was capable of offering the tiny matriarch polite company thanks to her efforts. Llyr was the most senior member of Aela's clergy since the death of the elderly high priest. Now he held the duty of care over the white flame and the mages it inspired within the cathedral hall. Yet he was still to give his first sermon, something no one could imagine the taciturn elf doing. He had been a quiet sort before the war and sine coming back Melanie could see a dark pit of sorrow and anger behind his eyes. A thing only made more frightening by the severe scars that slashed across the lower half of his once pristine face. Something Llyr could have easily made disappear with his magic and yet seemed to choose not to.

"I shall visit The Canvas before sunrise." He said bluntly. "They will find time for me at some point." That was the first step on the church's road to recovery. Though the pale mages may have had faith in their new leader the public were in need of spiritual strength and Llyr would have to learn the art of rhetoric if he was to fulfill his role.

They had direction now at least, and yet Melanie could not help but sigh. "It would be so much easier if The Lady were here."

But that was not in the cards... no mortal had seen Aela since the end of the war. The mages and priests insisted she had not fallen, as did her fellow gods. Wherever she was, Aela did not care for mortal eyes to find her.

*****

The birds never failed to sing outside the cottage window. The wind was always polite enough to offer a gentle tune to go along with it. IT was nice background noise as Aela sat down to her tea. Lazily she sipped on the hot brew as her fingers dances across the surface of the crystal contents of the bowl.

Her energy had left her completely today, she couldn't even muster the energy to go for a walk around her cottage's hidden grounds. For now she was just content to go on looking into the bowl of clear water, conjuring images of the world at large in an attempt to entertain herself.Mortals went about their lives in what looked like the usual routine. The university was back its usual buzz of activity. Even the many theatres around her lands were once again full of actors strutting the boards, it was sights like that made her wish these waters could give sound.

The city of fire must have been holding a party or something for how many of the other pantheon members were flying over its skies. For a moment Aela's numbness was broken by the pride she felt for her daughter. She'd taken on the task of carving out her own identity and way of doing things in her father's old realm and bring order back to the chaos that had been left in his absence.

'Now what's happening over there... are the vultures gathering? Probably, she thought. So many of them had shown sides of themselves in the war they'd no doubt have preferred to keep hidden. No doubt they were all trying to gather power and support for their own attempts for the throne.

They'd never have dared if Ephra was still alive, for all his faults only Thatos had to courage to actually try for it, to stand for his belief despite the horrible odds. Aela may not have agreed with him most of the time but she could always respect his honesty. Only once he'd cleared the way did any of them dare... as if they could challenge Ephra's legacy.

'How would things be if this had never happened? I wonder what the two of them would be up to?

Well what did it matter? None of them listened to her when things were truly dire. Whatever Aela tried now would do nothing now.

Enough of that! She'd find something nice. And with a flick of her hand she commanded the water again. Let it show her Zareth, what was her little one up to? He'd left home a long time ago for something she couldn't help him with. Maybe he'd have better luck where he was now.

*****

He was still getting used to being... normal sized.

Bracing his hood against the sand filled wind was a tough thing. Zareth already had to wear a hat so outlandish that the word ridiculous seemed quaint just to hide his horns from the pilgrims he'd joined. That on top of the strange shift in perspective was just jarring. Zareth had spent most of his life in the company of deities or giant monsters, he was too young to remember the day he was imbued with Aela's essence so his life was one spent literally looking down on the world as a towering demigod. Spending days at a time, shifting down to an average human's height was just bizarre and having to hide his horns along with it was more than a pain.

But for some reason dozens of people were emigrating to the underworld. Why anyone would want to spend time in the land of the dead before their allotted time and how these people had found it was beyond him but Zareth had been looking for a way in for a long time and this was his best bet for now.

Aela had been good to him, Zareth would never say otherwise and even Koritomo had been accepting of him despite some early awkwardness for her adopted sibling. Still... something had always been missing. A Question none of his family could answer and a feeling that had haunted him in Shan'Rael. Who were his parents, who were the one's that had left him behind on the river banks? As far as Aela could tell him Zareth was clearly half demon and judging by his pointed ears and lithe frame half elf. His working theory that his mother had made up the elven side of his heritage, it would have been near impossible for a demon to carry him and give birth unnoticed in Shan'Rael and so far he had had no luck finding her.

So perhaps he would have better luck searching for his father's side of the family. Aelas and Asmoday were supposed to be friends, she had often spoken fondly of the demon god. So maybe, just maybe, if Zareth found his way to the underworld in his travels then he could present himself to the resident king and find some help in tracking down the answers he was looking for.
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