[center][h1]Citadel Dundee, Northern Capital Mines[/h1][/center][hr] "Stone Djinni ahead!" Came the cry. The mining party’s guard retinue came to the front of the group, marching forward to deal with the Djinni. The Djinni grabbed hold of the supports of the tunnel, collapsing them with a cry of, “Exhume thyself from me home, scoundrels!” The tunnel began to collapse, and emergency braces were put up by the miners while the soldiers harassed the Djinni. The Psyker came forward, expanding his mind outwards. Ever since the disappearance of the Empress, their abilities had been particularly powerful. This particular Psyker used his powers to flood the mind of the Djinni, forcing it to stop and freeze in place, unable to control itself. It was quickly dispatched by the rest of the guards. Then, the Psyker yelled, “I want this tunnel put back together immediately!” The miners got to work. They placed all the emergency braces, and then went to their minecart, grabbing more mushroom wood to brace the tunnel with. The tunnel, meanwhile, slowed its crumbling with the extra supports placed by the miners. [hr] Cobbles moved along the edges of the tunnels, avoiding any of the usual checks and alarms. On his person were some highly illegal drugs he had purchased from a small illegal settlement. He was bringing it to the underground inner city of Fief. The drug trade was strictly controlled to provide profit for the palace, and without a paid-for and expensive customs stamps, the drugs were illegal to transport. Not that it mattered to this particular Stone Djinni, he simply avoided the trouble of the customs stamp altogether. This kept his prices down, and made him one of the richest sellers of drugs in the inner cities. The dwarven drug traders simply couldn’t compete with him, and had been run out of business a while ago, at least in this area. Granted, he would be executed if he were caught with so many drugs on his person. Just a risk of the trade. Cobbles passed into the city limits, popping out of the ground in his usual storefront, a magical-neon lit alleyway. His customers knew the usual time was about in an hour. Among their ranks were even a few Psykers, ensuring the law would stay off his trail within the city limits. Outside of the city limits were out of their jurisdiction, and thus free game for palace lawmen. He waited out the hour. Soon enough, customers trickled in, each at their designated times, to avoid a line. Lines were suspicious to even the most corrupt lawman. Cobbles soon had plenty of coins to his name and, with his extra stipulation of rumor payment as well, plenty of knowledge of the city’s affairs. One of the Psykers told them that the palace Psyker order was in a panic as the Empress had disappeared, though their powers had grown stronger, if much more damaging to their brains and psyches. He considered this rumor for a short while, before deciding he’d know a few interested people. [hr] After depositing his profits at his home, Cobbles delved deep into the bedrock, until he hit the crust. There, he searched around for a flame Djinni, hailing them with a greeting of, “I have information on Dundee for your lord!” They weren’t exactly hard to find. A certain lord named Ba’Sard had recently taken over the volcanic depths there, and his minions of flame and molten rock had been hiding in the layers of basalt where no dwarves dared to mine for fear of a fiery death. But it was not enough to rest content cowering in the magma chambers; as a newfound lord, Ba’Sard was eager to exercise his power and conquer the reaches above. It had only been a matter of biding his time and gathering his strength. When Cobbles arrived near the entrance to the magmalord’s fiery realm, it was at first hailed with hostility; the lords of pure flame looked down in disdain upon those that consorted with stone, and nigh all djinn were wary of those that grew too close to mortals. Cobbles was guilty of both those prejudices, yet none were willing to risk their master’s wrath and drive away the rogue stonedjinn without first knowing just what information he supposedly offered. “And what information is this?” a lowly guard asked Cobbles, his eyes having glowered softly like dying coals until seeing the stranger approach, then flaring in intensity as a show of strength. “It is about the upper leadership of Dundee, but I will only speak to your lord about it,” Cobbles responded, seemingly unimpressed by the display of eyes. “He will not come here to meet with the likes of you,” the guard answered back. “Do you dare descend to his throne room, where the stone melts?” The stonedjinn shot back in a droll tone, “I am sure your lord would appreciate squandering an opportunity to claim the lands above, I know just how uneager he is to conquer, hmm?” “And what do you hope to gain by coming here? Why should I not think that the cold ones sent you as a spy?” “It is simple, I have everything to gain by selling you information, but nothing to gain from lying to you. I hear that your lord will richly reward those who assist in his pillaging of the surface. Am I wrong of his generosity?” Cobbles responded smoothly. There was a steely look given in turn, but no further talk. After it failed to find another way to flex its power after several moments of burning silence, the djinni seemed to stare off into space vacantly and vibrate for a moment. It was speaking telepathically to its lord, as djinn were wont to do to the masters that bound them. “He will hear your offer,” the guard finally said. And then they waited. The stonedjinni simply glowered smugly, looking at the djinni of fire. “So, he will not come to me, then?” A small gout of flame erupted from the guard’s half-molten form, but no words. The air grew hotter, and though it at first seemed likely to be from the guard’s growing temper, it was quickly apparent that the searing air was a product of a much more potent being drawing close. The menacing form of Ba’Sard eventually floated out of the tunnel atop a small flow of magma. Before its master, the guard looked even smaller than before. It stepped to the side and let the magmalord’s presence completely dominate the room. [color=red]”Speak.”[/color] “Let us discuss payment first, shall we? This is, after all, very valuable information. It could very well make or break your conquest.” Cobbles responded opportunistically, almost eagerly. He paused, and then said, “I want you to leave the city of Fief alone, should I give you this information. It shall be my sole domain, yes?” There was skepticism in the visage of Ba’Sard, though it was masked under the supremely subtle cover of a layer of baleful fire. Agreeing to such terms upfront and before knowing the true value of this information was a risk, but Ba’Sard held few scruples. If this djinni’s information was not of use, then he would simply melt the wretch into a puddle somewhere down the line. [color=red]”Fief will be spared the fury of my flames, but you will take it as your domain and defend it with your own might, not mine.”[/color] “That is agreeable. Very well, I was doing my rounds on the surface, when a little birdy informed me that the Empress had disappeared. The upper leadership of the palace is in disarray,” he paused, internally debating fudging the truth a bit. He decided to do so, continuing, “the psykers are weak without her leadership. They’ll be easy pickings. There is no more opportune time to strike.” [i]And they hadn’t yet realized this? It seemed too good to be true.[/i] [color=Red]”And where has the Empress that they cower behind gone off to? When will she return?”[/color] he demanded. “Somewhere far away,” the stonedjinn responded, “so far that they can no longer detect the aura of her power. Let me remind you that they share an innate connection, and I highly doubt if she was in our universe at all that they wouldn’t know where. She could return at any time, however, so the longer you wait, the better a chance your conquest will be thwarted,” he purred smoothly, trying to appeal to Ba’Sard’s eagerness to expand his domain. The air grew hotter as Ba’Sard flared his searing aura in its intensity. The unbearably hot room was made all the more uncomfortable by the absolutely withering stare that he levelled upon Cobbles as he looked for even the slightest sign of a liar. The crucible of his presence had a way of burning away deceit and leaving behind charred corpses and the truth that they had laid bare. But Cobbles simply smiled sincerely at him, or at least it appeared sincere. [color=red]”Stir the flames below,”[/color] Ba’Sard suddenly bellowed loud enough for half the caverns to hear. [color=red]”Magma rises from the depths!”[/color] The stonedjinni realized he overstayed his welcome, and immediately began to hightail it out of there, the deal made and confirmed. [hr] The lowly messenger was greeted by its master with a single reverberation that nonetheless shook the crumbling walls of the ruined Celestial Citadel. [color=khaki]"Report.”[/color] [i]”Lord Vizier,”[/i] it addressed to Murmur, [i]”Anshal’s forces have pressed the attack and Komnestos will not offer resistance for much longer. Our enemies of the stone are locked in combat against the forces under Boreas; they soften one another for us when Slag’s forces may regroup; they are still a disorganized rabble raging wildly without a strong firelord to reign them in.”[/i] [color=khaki]"Slag has [b]yet[/b] to send a replacement?”[/color] A boom of resonated thunder punctuated the Vizier’s sudden flare in temper. [i]”No,”[/i] the windjinn answered as it drifted backwards from the explosive shock of Murmur’s voice. [i]”One by the name of Ba’Sard has gathered its allies and raised a horde in the south; they surge upwards from the fiery depths and invade a mortal realm. The firelords seem more eager to join the force of Ba’Sard in hopes of claiming a piece of the spoils than to obey their baron’s commands.”[/i] An echoing, thunderous rage coursed through Murmur and shook the skies. He intended to find these firelords in person. [hr] “Hold the walls! Hold the walls! In the Empress’ name, hold the walls!” came the cry of the outpost’s commander, the desperate dwarves on a fighting retreat against the hordes of firedjinn. Left and right, entire sections of dwarves were blown high into the air or burnt into a crisp. The Psykers had been dealt with first, and they were completely defenseless against the tide. “If we fall here, the palace falls! Hold the line!” came a second cry. Just then, there was a massive explosion, one section of the outpost walls crumbling, taking screaming dwarves with it. The outpost was breached, and the djinn began to flood through. The commander watched in horror. “Get a courier over here! Now!” he cried, and obediently, a courier came running up. They were a gryphon rider, selected as a courier due to the speed of their brother. “What would you have me send, m’lord?” the courier asked urgently. “We can’t hold them off for much longer. Tell the palace to organize defenses. They’ll be right on your tail. Now go!” The commander cried, before reentering the fray. The courier nodded and ran to her brother, climbing into the saddle and telling the large feline to take off. As they flew, another explosion rocked the tunnels. Something big was coming. The Elemental of Thunder passed unhindered through a wall of solid stone, though his very presence did shake the wall to its foundations and cause rock to heave. The living explosion swept through the settlement and witnessed its utter razing at the hands of volcanic djinn, but it was not those that interested him. It was Ba’Sard, the magmatic behemoth crushing his way through the straggling lines of resistance at the head of the firedjinn. A half dozen charred skeletons and the dripping slag that remained of armor were impaled upon the spikes of obsidian that jutted out of his towering form, whilst massive fists of basalt and his searing breath left crushed and smoldering corpses lining the streets. A few piercing notes from Murmur broke the resistance; the creatures of flesh clutched at their ruptured eyeballs and ears and fell to the ground with organs reduced to jelly by deafening sounds that resonated in their bodies. Before the Vizier’s might, Ba’Sard suddenly looked every bit the paltry mongrel that he was. [color=khaki]"What is the meaning of this foolishness? This Jvanic filth was not to be purged until [b]after[/b] the traitor djinn were rooted out from our ranks, yet here you are in defiance of your masters’ orders. There is a Divine that lords over these vermin, and by your hand she will be driven to align with our enemies!”[/color] One of the firelords at the side of Ba’Sard saw fit to answer. [color=DarkRed]”Their Divine Empress has vanished, and this realm is ripe for the picking. This conquest will be [b]ours![/b] Your war does not concern me, we answer only to Baron Slag.”[/color] An invisible grip of death took hold over that insolent lord and held him high into the air. He flailed helplessly as a horrific scream pulverized volcanic stone to dust and stifled flame; the other lords, even distant enough for the sound to not be lethal, shuddered with a pain greater than their horror. [color=khaki]"It is unfortunate that your Vizier must make such examples of [b]his servants.[/b] One of you must depart immediately to the north to restore order among the scattered legions of your master; the rest of you are to finish quickly what you have started and then depart forthwith to reinforce us. I shall not rest until the last traitors are slain.”[/color] Proud Ba’Sard finally knelt. [color=Red]”It shall be done, lord Vizier.”[/color] With that matter settled, Murmur left at the speed of sound. He knew little of the Divine that had dwelled here, for it was a secretive one, but its sudden disappearance was something to note and report to Xos. Curiosity demanding that he investigate, Murmur travelled towards the palace. The steady trail of refugees led him right to it. The bells of the palace rung as he came into sight. Along the walls of the grand city, thousands of dwarves prepared massive bolts from ballistae. They began to launch the bolts at Murmur. Further, bolts of divine magic were launched at him from psykers. A battlehymn emerged from the walls, and even at his far distance, he could hear it. “The enemy now stands before The walls of our great fort. Militias form, and gather all Every mighty blade and bolt.” The Vizier rippled downwards through the air and slammed into the ground, leaving the barrage of attacks to fall upon vacant space. All was still, and the crazed oscillations in the air that were Murmur’s visible form were gone. Then their hymns were drowned out as the djinni lord surged out from the ground and slammed into the walls. Mortar gave way, stones crumbled, and those that came into direct contact with their adversary were violently torn apart by his explosive presence. While they fell to the ground mewling from the unbearable song of Murmur, he swept through the palace looking for any sign of a Divine. The guards were powerless to stop his advances; what could they do to harm living Sound, especially when that same sound resonated in their feeble forms and brought them to their knees? The dwarves did the best they could, valiantly delaying him where possible and refusing to retreat. In his path he swathed dead dwarves, of all castes. Psykers and gryphon riders, peasants and crafts dwarves, all fell in his rampage. Finally, after an hour of making his way through the city, he reached the palace. There came a cry. “Enemy! Enemy at the gates!” The remaining psykers put up a shield of divine energy, their last ditch attempt to save the palace and the riches inside. [i]Stubborn creatures. But frail.[/i] He ascended high into the air and slammed into the shield with an explosive force the likes of which mortals could scarcely comprehend, then rebounded backwards with his very essence having been repelled by the magical barrier. But that was no matter; he renewed his assault and bore down upon the shield again, and again. Their strength was failing. The shield wavered every time he slammed into it, and soon enough it too fell. When it fell, the Psykers took one last desperate offensive, simultaneously lancing the djinni with their minds. It earned them a swift and violent demise. Having swatted the last of those meddlesome insects that bit at him, his attention finally turned towards the scene before him. Civilians were fleeing en masse and the city had been nearly evacuated in the span of time that he had taken to decimate the defenders and breach the palace. Those mortals were of no matter, though. He had come to search for signs of the Divine that dwelled in the palace, and upon entering it he sensed nothing of the sort. A Divine heartbeat had its own unique hymn, and Murmur could detect the faintest whisper among the sea of thunder about him, yet among the din he perceived no such heartbeat. Considering the slim possibility that this was a silent Divine that for some reason hid its presence from his ears, he ransacked the palace. For all his efforts, he found nothing. There was neither a Divine presence nor any indication of where the Divine may have went or when it might return. So Ba’Sard had been right, then. It was all very intriguing; gods and their ilk were not wont to merely fade into nothingness. A whisper tugged on his mind, tinged with the power of the divine. At first, unintelligible, but it slowly became more apparent. It whispered in his mind, “They say you should create an unassailable tower, so sturdily built that no friend or foe may enter, so that not one insect nor grain of sand can squeeze through the cracks. They say that you must ensure that not one wound may enter, nor may one mote of love. In this, you will find true strength. Some say that those who take upon themselves this task are sure to starve.” [i]Whispers.[/i] Xos whispered too, but his words were portents of agony terrible to behold. These were the ramblings of nothingness, the useless noise of a waterfall’s din save any hint of natural beauty. [i][color=khaki]’I know what strength is! It is raw power: an endless bellow, a roar that shakes mountains and breaks any that defy you. Not whispers.’[/color][/i] The voice whispered in Murmur’s ear once again. “Pity thee who arrays forces against himself, in his endless pursuits. Pity thee who knows not of true power. Know this, thy shall surely starve. For, your fortress is one upon which no harm or love may enter. Count thee one and the same, the betrayed King of Kings.” Murmur then realized that this must have been the disheveled, disembodied voice of the Divine that had once dwelled here. Such a presence might normally cause trepidation in even the most powerful of djinn, but there was no aura of power to back the hollow threats and no simulacrum to be seen. This was only a whisper upon the wind, whereas Murmur was a thunderous roar. This time Murmur spoke his thoughts aloud, [color=khaki]”My forces are endless; but one small host of them has overrun your own. And my fortress, -ha! It is the heavenly palace of gods, built by gods, whereas yours is now an empty ruin.”[/color] “The hypocrisy of the Lordgod Amanin is evident. All ash in the end, betrayed by his own host, hunted by those infinitely more powerful -- in his lack of control, lack of power, he too built his fortress so that none may enter. He too starved. Lo, behold the divine corpse. Nothing but rotting remains of thy who shalt starve. Those infinitely the lesser sustaining upon thy malnourished flesh. Thus is the fate of all fortresses,” the voice whispered, so quietly he could barely hear it. “Hidden in the heart of fools, the portents of invulnerability. Their fortresses -- they are invincible. But when has a fool ever achieved true power?” It finished. Murmur haughtily scanned the area for the source of this presence that leaked into his mind. It was coming from somewhere, as did all sounds. It could be silenced. And yet, no matter how hard he looked, he could not find any source. It was seemingly coming from himself. Other djinn might have flared or inflated in their frustration, yet Murmur contracted. Then expanded. The tumultuous Vizier grew into an even more cacophonous sound, so much so that the palace’s ruined foundations began to tremble. He spurned the whispers in all their worthless drivel of hunger, and when he saw no pathway to the Divine itself nor any mouth through which he might silence its voice, he left. There was nothing for the Vizier there; he ascended to the sky once more and left the ruin to the squabbling firedjinn that would not be far off. Mere sound could not bridge the vast gap between the stars no matter how powerful, yet Murmur’s voice reached out all the same. By his the link that entwined him with his master, the Vizier’s thoughts resonated to Xos, finding their way to wherever the shade was lurking in that moment. [color=khaki][i]’There have been a great many delays.’[/i][/color] The response was a burning heat. [color=00FF7F][i]“Intolerable.”[/i][/color] [color=khaki][i]’...but there is good reason! One of the Divines has vanished; when I investigated, I heard only its incorporeal voice and felt no presence. The firelords have seized the lands that were under its protection and scattered its followers like ash upon the wind.’[/i][/color] [color=00FF7F][i]“The conquest of some meager clime on that wretched world is of no significance. I take insult to every breath that you tolerate the traitor djinn to draw, and do not forget. Your preparations for Jvan’s eradication must also be done. See to it.”[/i][/color] The link was severed, and Murmur was left to his own devices once more; yet Xos stirred, and soon his shadow loomed over Dundee. The mountain was in the process of being abandoned, refugees streaming from all parts of the mountain, out the various tunnels to the surface. But no divine power beyond Xos’ stirred. He approached the ruin that had once been a palace. There was little trace of divinity, though he could detect it. It seemed to follow the path of destruction from the outer walls to the inner palace. The veil seemed thin around the palace, as if there was something else beyond in the area. [i]Smoke and mirrors.[/i] He was the smoke, and this place was a mirror. With a violent and sudden blow, he shattered its proverbial glass. All of a sudden, he found himself in a crowd of masked figures of all shapes and sizes. They seemed to pay him no mind, as if appearing out of nowhere was nothing out of the ordinary. There were some ramen shops nearby, and various other buildings. His power was not all here; it was as though he had stuck his head through some tiny crevice and could peer in, yet was unable to reach his hands through the crack and into the void beyond. He looked upon one of the masked figures and extended a finger of death. Normally his power would envelop a mortal in a cycle of entropic recursion that would reduce them to nothingness, but the very laws of this place stymied any such attempts and thwarted his power. The strange being noticed the beam of darkness, and, spinning its staff in front of itself, collected it within its staff. Then, the being stabbed out its staff into the air, the power sloughing off into the aether. It cried, “You dare attack a disciple of the Twelfth Circle of the Order of Amanin?!” It was as he expected, more or less. A fortunate outcome for the denizens of this realm, to be sure. [color=00FF7F]”What is this place?”[/color] The figure entered a battle-stance, crying, “Do not play the fool, I am a celestial red-master, and I shall see you banished to the pits of Tam!” Even as the figure leaped forward, its antagonist disappeared. Where the shade had hovered there was only a sterile and empty void, and where the masked figure had been standing Xos coalesced into physical form once more. Striking at him was to a mortal every bit as impossible as catching smoke in one’s fist. The being spun around, as the crowd cleared, watching the fight, seemingly entertained. It yelled, “What be your name, fool?! It is no easy feat, what you have just done!” Jvan had asked him that same question. He graced neither this one nor her with its answer, for they were both as vermin. [color=00FF7F]”Where does the demigod hide?”[/color] Neither the Demimons surrounding the area, nor the being Xos had attacked, responded, for they realized they were naught but trees, and did not have mouths. “It has been infinite aeons since I have heard that phrase, and yet, I have always heard it. What do you seek from me in this wretched place? Do the politics of your pantheon never cease?” A voice crackled from the sky, though the source was otherwise unidentifiable. [color=00FF7F]”My servant claimed that a Divine had vanished without trace, and so I came to see for myself what manner of thing could end our kind. Yet here you are, alive but imprisoned. I tap on the glass of your cage to see you stir. I too was imprisoned, once. But I battered my way free.”[/color] “And, what exactly, is imprisonment? The Thirds of Three were imprisoned, yet I. Count me not one and the same of the Three.” Came the response. The Shadow stood there in mocking silence for a long, pregnant pause. When he finally spoke once again, it was in a deliberately crude reflection of the mad voice before him. [color=00FF7F]”And I offer a riddle unto thee: What is the wind softest of all as it blows, the tree that sprouts yet never grows, a false grace currency to wretches sage or base?”[/color] “It is simple, the answer to thy riddle be the enemy known as I, within thy own self and my own self.” Came the response, a single eye opening up in the clouds, cutting a hole through them. [color=00FF7F]”Hmph.”[/color] [i]So-called wisdom. The foolish, arcane, worthless, esoteric sort that this one preaches.[/i] “Thou would have not come if thou didst not have reasons. What, blessed be, do ye wish from me?” came the response, the eye in the sky being joined by two smaller ones on each side. Questions were answered with questions. [color=00FF7F]”What trapped you here?”[/color] “Thou shalt know soon enough, shall thy continue upon thy path,” came the response, and then, “I be the blessed King of Kings, but alas, I too be the Queen of Secrets.” Words as hollow as the voice’s disembodied form. In a way, Xos found it amusing. [color=00FF7F]”And where is your kingdom? What are your secrets?”[/color] “Pray tell, would I hold a secret long if I did not keep it secret? There be things ye know not of. And with blessings, that it shall remain.” The King of Kings said, as small eyes began to open in the clouds, thousands of them. There were eyes and a voice, yet no mouth or body to speak of. A violent yet intangible nova of wind swept outwards from the shade as it expanded its awareness and perceived everything there, with the exception of where the demigod’s body was hiding. Perhaps it was just as formless in this plane as it had been in Galbar when it first came to Murmur’s attention. [color=00FF7F]”Secrets of what nature? I have much that I could trade for knowledge, would trade for knowledge,”[/color] the words came slower now. [color=00FF7F]”But thus far, I have seen nothing to suggest you are any more than a peddler of lies or truths so obscure as to be nothing.”[/color] His awareness was slowly pricked at, becoming smaller and smaller as masses of arcane divine runes just outside of his full awareness pushed it back inwards. They were not glimpsable, yet he was aware of them, in some form. “Thou wouldst not know why, if I did not allow ye. You could be blind without ever realizing I was the cause. Without me, ye art soon become the prisoner ye claim I am. Thou art sick of the body, nay, not a true god. Entirely fixable.” Shadows stirred. [color=00FF7F]”And what is it that the Queen of Secrets wants? Power? Freedom?”[/color] “What use is freedom to those who art not imprisoned? Nay, you may offer me little. However, little be not none. I will grant ye two things, if ye art to begin hiding the gods from their flocks, the mortals which inhabit the universe. Spread secrets, bring with ye an air of paranoia. Promise that on thy name to Amul’Sharar, and I shalt grant ye your requests.” It was an unusual request, though it made sense that the self-proclaimed Queen of Secrets desired grater obfuscation. Though swearing by the Terrible One’s name always gave cause for trepidation, the terms of this pact were vague enough to hardly be binding. [color=00FF7F]”Hmph.”[/color] The shade reflected for many moments, something that it was not wont to do often. Though it knew not exactly what information it would be paid in for this deal, he knew much about inspiring terror. In the end paranoia was merely another form of fear, so creating it would likewise prove trivial. [color=00FF7F]”Then by the power of Amul’Sharar, that Terrible One that cleaved this abominable state of existence from the Nothingness that preceded it, the bargain is struck.”[/color] “Very well, thou shalt have thy reward. Name what thou require.” came the voice once again. If Xos had eyes, they might had leered down upon his vestments in disgust, crafted by a djinni’s hand instead of his own as it were. But there was nothing like eyes within the shadow, unless he chose to display such a facade. [color=00FF7F]”Tell me what must be done in order for me to Create, to have some simulacrum more tangible than [i]this[/i] shell.”[/color] The irony of asking a formless voice with its eyes in the air how he might take on a more suitable form did not escape Xos, and indeed he half expected to receive nothing for an answer; however, if such a thing were possible, he was willing to endure the humiliation of asking and making oaths in order to have it. “In ye mind be chaos, an unorganized, unfathomable chaos. Much like thou wouldst see in weather. Thou art capable; thou simply has not the wisdom to see it. Consider -- when has a Djinni achieved physical form, and how? Peace be formed within thou mind, and then ye may truly control thy powers.” The response was slow, and ordered, the eyes still opening in the sky endlessly. Ventus. Of course. He was still owed one more answer. [color=00FF7F]”My enemies,”[/color] the shade began, [color=00FF7F]”I know that I have made at least four: Teknall, Toun, Jvan, and Vestec. Tell me of their weaknesses and what I might exploit to triumph over them.”[/color] “Of thy enemies, three be too sentimental for their own good. Teknall’s prodigious offspring, for Toun, what has been locked away -- seek out thou enemy’s avatars. For Jvan, what hast been created. Jvan -- Jvan be an enigma, even to me. Thousands of universes she has traveled. Though I know not the easiest way to deal with the Cancer, there exists a slower option -- destroying the Cancer at the end of the universe. Find ye what she uses to travel between universes and destroy it,” the voice paused, “Vestec. The simplest. He brings order to lands by hunting thou. Should he know, he may very well be the most reliable wildcard in thou arsenal.” All of that he committed to memory. Some of it made sense immediately; with the knowledge that there existed offspring of Teknall, seeking them out and seizing them as captives seemed prudent. The shade knew not what to make of what had been said regarding Toun and Jvan, but it left him with something to ruminate. [color=00FF7F]”Then your side of the bargain is fulfilled. As for mine, I will devise a...means of sowing fear of the unknown.”[/color] And then the shadows dissolved and there was nothing left. Where the shadow fell next was over the bleak landscape beneath a mountain. Through goat paths over craggy hills there stretched a seemingly endless trail of dwarves. Some stumbled on bearing great packs of worldly possessions upon their backs whereas other trudged ahead with nothing, but all were weary. All were tired, susceptible. A tired mind was not wont to question what it was told, so Xos’ silent whispers found their way into the minds of the dwarves’ leaders and were accepted just as readily as their own thoughts. They had not been abandoned by the gods; there never were and never had been any gods. There were no spirits, there was no such thing as an afterlife. No religion, only dreamlike lies that they had been too entranced to ever see before. The mortal imperative of slowly awakening their brethren and showing them the truth was a heavy weight upon their shoulders. [hider=Summary] [hider=The sideshow involving Dundee] This stuff really wasn’t the focus of the post and just provides background for why Murmur and Xos found themselves anywhere near Dundee. A djinni named Cobbles had dealings with the dwarves as a trader, and eventually he came to learn the hushed-up secret that Lazarus had gone missing. Seizing the chance, he descends down into some of the deepest tunnels and sells this information to an ambitious firelord called Ba’Sard. Exploiting the dwarves’ weakness, Ba’Sard (with the help of several other firelords) raises a vast horde of fire elementals surge up through the tunnels and conquer Dundee. This marks the first time in Galbar’s history that a large group of djinn have sought to outright conquer a mortal realm for the purposes of expanding their own dominions and growing in power; in any case, this is certainly atypical and presumably a result of the recent turmoil going on between the djinn. Dwarven refugees stream out of Dundee and flee to surrounding lands; they will in time form many smaller, fractured realms. Dundee remains full of treasure, as something like Moria or the Lonely Mountain that they long to reclaim.[/hider] Following the defeat of Thermaron, the huge army of fire elementals way up north have been leaderless and just rampaging across the landscape. Murmur is vexed at how no firelord has come to replace Thermaron, and after learning that they were all helping Ba’Sard he goes down to Dundee. He’s curious about how a demigod could just disappear. He attacks the palace and levels it looking for signs of a demigod, but finds none. Then eventually Lazarus starts talking in his head and he leaves. The strange series of events is reported to Xos. Though initially very displeased, Xos similarly goes to investigate the disappearance of a demigod. He senses Lazarus trapped in another plane and is able to breach his way through, though in that plane he is significantly less powerful. Nonetheless, he converses with Lazarus and a pact is struck: Lazarus will give him wisdom in exchange for him spreading paranoia and fear of the divine among mortals. He agrees. First he is told that he could overcome his impotence (utter inability to take a more tangible form or to create objects) through meditation in a manner similar to Ventus. Then he asks about the weaknesses of his enemies and is told about Teknall, Toun, Jvan, and Vestec. To begin fulfilling his side of the bargain, he seeds doubt in the minds of the dwarves fleeing from their ruined homes and his whispering drives many of them to atheism. Slowly but surely they intend to spread this ideology and generally go about denying the existence of gods and writing off their doings as some sort of other phenomena. [/hider] [hider=MP] Zephyrean Pantheon Start: L9 - 7MP - 3FP -1 FP used to promote atheism among dwarven refugees End: L9 - 7MP - 2FP[/hider]