[center][h1]Trust[/h1][/center]

[hr]

Rain washed away the salt upon his face as the sun stared at him in front of dark clouds. The crashing of waves was as consistent as each of his breaths. Roaring like a monster behind him, lapping at his feet. So many faces, so many neutral stares. Blank, impassive. They watched him like vultures watch their prey. Hungrily, waiting for the inevitable. He was defiant, he was strong, even in the face of such impervious cruelty. 

Yet he would fail and they knew. 

It made his blood boil. 

All had been going so well. For more than a decade he was in charge, he was a king! A RULER! A CHAMPION! A GOD!

Anything he said was decreed law, anything he made was decreed divine, every breath he took, every woman he made his- It was his right. For they were inferior. The Gods had made it so! He took them from their lowest point and made them strong! Forged them into something new, something better!

And what did they have to show for it?

Nothing but contempt. Of Pity.

They had fostered such resentment, such fear, that at the moment their destiny was made clear, was made absolute, they faltered and sneered. They did not want him, an outsider, this GOD made flesh. 

His grip tightened on his mace. The mere thought of such betrayal made him grimace, then snarl. 

Was that how it was?

Fine!

If they would not listen to him in the face of such danger, in front of such lies and slander, then they were not worthy of his time. They would all of them die and he would do it but first…

He turned to the sun, made manifest and pointed his mace at it. The giant came on the eve of his war, his war he had planned so meticulously. From the druids upon his ‘land’ to the ‘replacing’ of those pathetic chiefs who would not fall in line. Before him had gathered the largest army the Litus tribes had ever seen. Would EVER see. And now, at the mention of this disapproval, this ‘divine’ decree, they had stopped. They had questioned their ways that had made them so great. And now he faced the sun alone, for they were cowards and fools to believe what it said. You could NOT trust a GOD!

The Daemon placed his helmet upon his head and with a defiant roar he barrelled forward to the giant. 

There was a bright flash and then he was tumbling down a hill of stone, breaking sticks and twigs with each crack. The light was bright here and he could barely keep his eyes open long enough to see. When he finally came to a stop, he laid still for several moments, trying to register what had occurred. 

He at last sat up and removed his helmet to meet a wave of crushing heat and a sea of red all around him. 

Malri let out a frustrated roar.

[hider=Summary]
A lone warrior faces down an impossible adversary. His tirade of terror comes to a swift end as he is banished to a land far away. 
[/hider]

[hider=MP]
Oraelia 5/5

-1MP to teleport a fiend to a desert of blood

4/5
[/hider]

[hider=Prestige]
Not worth it this time around.
[/hider]