[h1][u][b]DAY 1: The Calling of the Court[/b][/u][/h1] [center] [hider Mortal Mutterings (flavor)] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [img]https://fieldsphotographylondon.files.wordpress.com/2016/12/richmondparkwinter-45.jpg[/img] [color=azure] It was the first day of the year succededing one of famine and hardships; hardships that only intensified over the winter days and lingered in the mind of the young Priest with the lamentations of his flock who ran Running the local Shrine to Zhystkrexas. They say that he makes deals but night after night no offer Darrol could make tempted him, a rejection that stuck like the chilling breeze as he shoved his broom down the tunneled pond, cracking it. The Shrine had to remain idealic, even in Winter, even absent gods demand perfection. Others rested, retiring to what they could, but Darrol was out in the morning and night in furs laboring away. Normally he would be alone, normally, but today a young man who could be no older than 15 was walking up to him with clear intent [i]"You nee-"[/i] He stopped himself[i] "You bring any tribute, son?"[/i] he corrects himself. The young man slowly plants a single copper in his hand. Darrol gave him an look of attempted offense on his lord part, but he failed to find the energy to keep the act up. Sighing [i]"Fine, child, what do you need?"[/i] He continued to stab at the frozen water, grunting as it showed no sign of cracking. [i]"I need faith..."[/i] he said simply. Darrol stopped. [i]"You can't be given faith, son. It's the one thing the King can't give anyone, no matter what offer. Believe me, I've tried" "Then why do they abandon us. How can we have faith when trust is left to decay?"[/i] Darrol frowned, deep in thought, before he continued to hammer at the lake again [i]"Who died in this harsh year, son?"[/i] [i]"My father"[/i] [i]"You want some answer, some justification from the gods as to why they allow such a thing to be so. I guess, the only answer I can give is that your father is another spark in a world of fire"[/i] Darrowl let that sink, the boy was surprisingly stoic, or he was simply muted by anger. He was hoping for the former under his disimissive tone. [i]"Good men die year in and year out. Good times and bad. That's the thing, son. Time, we all live on it. Even gods, and the way I see it is if the gods aren't appearing before you, and they aren't appearing before me, nor are they appearing before the king despite his rituals and sacrefices. Then they must be appearing under the highest court of all: time" [/i]He looked over at him and shared a moment of silence. Slowly the young man picked up an considerable rock, hefty enough to bluntly brutalize effectively and remained glaring [i]"But what he needed more than anything was time"[/i] The boy protested. [i]"The Essentials need the same. All king have duties, and our king are forced to be jesters of time's court as anyone else. Faith that they may save your father is gone, you must let go of it"[/i] He stared at the rock as he continued [i]"but faith that the gods are working to bypass times demands is not"[/i] with that he lifted his rock up into the air, making the priest step back and raise his arm for protection before it was flung down violently toward him. [i]"CRAAAACCCKKK"[/i] The ice had been parted into shards, lazily floating in a newly freed stream. Darrol.unharmed, stared at the boy; who gave a stubborn but reluctant nod. [i]"Amen"[/i][/color] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/hider] [img]https://addisabram.files.wordpress.com/2016/12/heaven-756096.jpg[/img] [color=goldenrod]White, almsot entirely white, no one knew where the Divine Realm was, it was the most unimaginative place one could conjure up. A pocket of pointlessness, everywhere and everything was so white that it made winter snow look like it had a tan. The air was stale with an unfufilled tension that replaced the subtle ambience of wind or footsteps. The divine realm was as barren as sand, but at least sand had texture. Above was a large audience of stars that watched from all distances, to so far that even gods could only guess to the sun glaring down without heart or rays down at the plain. The Highest Court was normally depicted in great paintings as a place of untold marvel; Mixed tales of how it reached into the depths of the galaxy to transport the gods to the most secluded and preserved of paradises hidden on Earth any heavenly realm beyond. In truth, the court was a crude construct of basic pillairs that crowned a circle in the middle. Larger, longer chairs styled in the shape of kingly thrones with different, pertinent styles to their seated Essential were one circle row behind; and further back was an almost endless series of benches for the audiences to be. The Court was brown, polished to perfection oaken wood. Ironically, despite all the disposable abilities of Divine Society they couldn't agree on a design and so mimiced the mortal world in a side step of arguments over proper style choices. A single bell sat at the top of the building, humming gently with power in a silent, anxious tenseness that could be felt for by any onlooker miles away. Slowly, as the day striked 7 it started to rock itself from side to side; picking up pace until its divine ring could be heard fromm all over creation. Today was the day: the birth of the pantheon. Now, to commence: the immortals and essentials had to simply show up.[/color] Seating: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ESSENTIALS: 1: Zhystkrexas, the Corrupter 2: River 3: Haludni 4: Lorin's Translator PANTHEON PROPOSALS [u] Silacetus [/u] [u]2 [/u] [u]3 [/u] [u]4 [/u] [u]5 [/u] [u]6 [/u] [u]7 [/u] AUDIENCE Unlimited. The Lesser God Who Does Not Exist Merlí Kozo ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [/center]