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[color=skyblue]Level 2 God of Civilization (Speech)[/color][/center]

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When the Centaur spoke of its quest and asked if Promus could be of assistance, the god answered with a warm smile. There was a glow in his eyes that said [i]'yes'[/i] yet offered nothing so tangible as a promise forged from words.

[color=skyblue]"I will be watching you,"[/color] the Sage finally told the Centaur, but then the god shimmered and was gone.

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As time passed, Promus was quickly made aware of the movements of the three that worried him most; true to their moniker, his three Watchers saw what they were meant to see. Though it was only Halazael who had reported with urgency and regularity, eventually all three had found the time to whisper a few quiet words upon the wind that they would reach their master's ear.

So it was that Promus came to understand that Gremju was amassing a horde of some creatures called 'imps', and that Larwen had already created a bastion from which his unholy war was already beginning. Some other gods had offered resistance, but it was of little reassurance. They had done the world no favors in acting preemptively; now through the aggravations of Lasis and Regulus, Larwen felt under the pressure to move even quicker. Alarming the demon had only served to expedite the war and drive him into deeper concentration.

Though he had not hoped to begin grim preparations so soon, it was clear that he would need to amass forces of his own, for he intended to be well prepared to strike with a sudden and overwhelming force in the very moment that any of the demons appeared vulnerable; it was his moral imperative, for one surgical and merciless assault upon the harbingers of chaos, however brutal and distasteful, could spare untold millions of mortals.

A fourth Lord of Civilization seemed a good start, however; there was only Makaizael to teach mortals of earth and nature, Halazael the stars and sky, and Azazael of divinity and power. He saw need for yet another, one to teach them of flame and all the benevolent gifts that it could bring.

So to create a being with knowledge of fire, Promus sought out a great source of heat. Though he flew near and far across the land, in the end the hottest flames were those that he found beneath the cool waves of the ocean. In the volcanic depths of a deep ravine carved into the sea's floor, Promus shaped a flow of magma into a hulking yet vaguely humanoid form. Into the body he also imbibed a the capacity for a great deal of intelligence and he gave the being the spark of a mind with which to use that potential; the only thing left was to give a name: [color=orangered][i]Pyredes.[/i][/color]

Pyredes came alive with a shudder and pried free from the volcanic vent, but then the rush of frigid seawater came into contact with searing flesh. With a burst of steam, a skin of stone began to harden around his molten innards but it went too fast. As he writhed in an icy pain, his body twisted and contorted such that the stone was formed in all the wrong ways. With a panicked start, Promus dragged his creation from the sea and onto a rocky beach.

[hider=Pyredes]
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[i]Though he had not yet fully cooled, Promus could already see what Pyredes was to become. He was powerful of form and in possession of a single eye in the center of his forehead.[/i]
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Promus forced himself to watch his son's struggle and felt a guilt that burned hotter than any lava flow. He had made a mistake, but now he feared that there was little that could be done to correct it. Pyredes would never be beautiful or as dexterous as the Watchers were, but he at least would be strong of body and mind.

When the cyclops' agonized torpor began to wane, Promus gave him his birthright. [color=skyblue]"Listen, beloved Pyredes; take these words for your own. Claim this language of the gods, that you may know any mortal tongue and be likewise understood by their baser minds."[/color]

[color=orangered][b]"Hmmghrmrglhm."[/b][/color]

Promus looked at Pyredes expectantly, waiting for the cyclops to find its tongue and speak, but his disciple looked down and would only grunt and grumble. He kept staring at Pyredes, nigh incredulous at the thought that perhaps his failure had been so absolute as to also render this Lord of Civilization with a deformed mind as well as body. But then the cyclops seemed to shift uncomfortably under his father's unending gaze, and that shyness turned to anger. With what resembled a roar, he threw a rock at Promus and then fell upon his back to wail and pout. Tears of liquid fire dripped from his one eye; Promus carefully wiped them off the cyclops' face before they dried to form a crust of sand. It seemed as though Pyredes might be merely a 'child' of sorts and that he would have to mature and grow, not unlike the mortals. In trying to make one cleverer and wiser than his three Watchers or even himself, Promus had made yet another mistake.

But this error was not so bad; for that day, it was enough to demand that Promus take his mind off of Larwen or any of the other worries that already burdened him, and for that the god would later be grateful. In that moment, though, he had only thought to give Pyredes the company of friends...[i]siblings[/i]. He would not be able to watch Pyrades constantly over the years to come, so it was best that he would have others for company and for safety in numbers. Though not quite so powerful or large as he, these fellow cyclopes shared his likeness. Promus did not repeat his mistake, and in their making he took care to not render them crippled as Pyredes had been. Even so, they were not particularly agile or quick, but even with their cumbersome bodies and clumsy gaits they betrayed the signs of a great intelligence and strength.

[hider=Summary]
Promus bids the centaur farewell.

Now that Promus is aware of how the 'demons' are entrenched, and that several other gods of questionable trustworthiness seem to be assembling armies, he feels the need to keep up with the arms race. It also seems clear that his three Watchers are not enough.

With this in mind, he enters a volcanic fissure beneath the sea and creates a molten being composed purely of magma that he names Pyredes.

The seawater cools around Pyredes. His sizzling hot body begins to harden and cool with such rapidity that it leaves him with a bad and crippled disposition. He has a limp and crippled leg, and Promus feels really guilty about messing that up.

Pyredes is given a powerful form of speech; like the gods, he is able to understand and speak any mortal language. This guy is a Lord of Civilization like Azazael and bros.

That being said, he still just grumbles and makes noises and has tantrums. Promus wonders if he somehow messed up Pyredes' mental faculties as well, but then comes to suspect that Pyredes just has the mind of a child and that he'll have to actually grow up and all that.

So that Pyredes has company, Promus decides to make a great many other guys. They are a bit smaller, not so magically gifted as Pyredes, and are not born as cripples, but they are made in Pyredes' rough likeness and are still more or less his siblings. Thus the cyclopes are born.

More to come on cyclopes!
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[hider=Might Audit]
Start: 5MP and 2/4 MP towards level 3

-1 MP on Pyredes
-0 MP to give Pyredes the gift of divine speech (free portfolio action)
-1 MP on cyclopes

End: 3MP
Level 3, 0/6 MP towards level 4
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