Illyd 
	Dyll

God of Agriculture... and Lightning 
[hr]

	Illyd Dyll sat under a storm cloud. His valley of wheat was subject to whipping winds and thunderous booms as he meditated. His eyes were closed and his jaw worked rhythmically over a straw of grass. Diana was nowhere to be scene -- a dark mansion of tatted shingles and broken steps off on the farside of the usually idyllic scene.

	Blasts of lightning touchdowned in his fields, striking the dirt into violent plooms. The clouds were his, just as the soil was his. In his heart he knew there was a balance to be found here in the war between the ground and the sky -- the war that tickled his thoughts late at night, and pulled at his spirit, concerning his heart. There was so much to process and yet so little at the same time.

	He hadn’t the intention to become a patron of the sky fires now raining down in cracks of electricity, but he had -- as if it had been foretold and thrusted upon him without his opinion. He felt his gentle hands loosen as such a violent new tool was thrust into them. Even as a god, was there choice -- or was it determined? If it were his choice, he doubts he would have ever made even the first storm, but he did.

	What good could come from such power? Another pillar of destructive light blasted his fields and he grimaced though it was his own will. What good could come from such uncaged rage that dwells in the sky, what good- other than as a way to clear the path.

	That was it. His smile turned back upwards -- though small. Left unchecked certain aspects of nature were destined to grow just as he and all other divine and mortal things were to, such aspects of forests, thickets, and weeds. A deer may clear the lower reaches of a forest, or a herd of beasts may clear a savannah into pastures, but what tool was there when this was not enough? What to do when the world would grow so much as to choke itself?

	Another blast hit the ground. Perhaps it was the sky’s duty to clear the ground when they lose each other to the density of growth. Illyd could see it now, a single strike from his rainclouds, a single tool that could open up the earth, cull the weeds, leave a new slate for agriculture to flourish or even give new trees a chance where they had none.

	Such violence was not without a justification, but did all violence have justification? Perhaps not, but this one did, as it was a key factor in creating new life -- by giving it a turn from that which had theirs spent.

[hider=Summary]
Illyd Dyll becomes the God of Lightning and ponders why, and what use it would be. He finds in the end that lightning is a violent tool but a tool nonetheless that can be used to clear the way for new life. An example of this is when a lightning strike  causes a fire and clears the land for fresh forests or agriculture to grow.
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3mp spent on buying the Lightning port

2mp remaining
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