[center][h2]Voligan Week[/h2][/center] There in the heart of the Forge of Worlds, the great anvil of Voligan in which countless artifacts were amassed in the name of the Monarch of All, stirred the many hands of the Earthheart’s servants. They toiled and pounded away upon metals, warping their forms into shapes of all those mortals that inhabited the Galbar - those that would be chosen to serve the venerable Sun God in all due time. Those husks knew not what they did, less so the purpose of their task, but all was to the Earth Lord’s design for autonomous production. The Automatons there stirred endlessly - without tire or hunger to compel them otherwise in the march forwards in the name of their creator and his Liege. Yet, just as meticulously as the automatons went about their duties, a single light descended from the skies towards the continent. The Forge of Worlds may have had deterrents against outside forces but this light attracted no such ire for it could not be seen by those who were not of divine blood. It traveled the length of the great workshop, inspecting the automatons all the way until it settled behind one. The light wordlessly fluttered around the empty vessel, looking upon the sword that it was crafting, pounding metal against metal in a monotonous fashion. Once the sword was formed into shape it passed it to another of its kind before the light entered the form of the automaton. The metallic being studied itself with a consciousness that it did not have, yet it knew exactly what it was and even knew of its purpose! Not many beings could confidently know such things and yet the simple automaton did, and it was proud of such a feat. It stood triumphantly with its form before a voice that repeated in countless echoes spoke out, uttering a name to itself, “Vilicus.” Vilicus turned his head and looked at another of his own kind before clumsy shuffling over, it was odd to have limbs but it knew how to use them in some capacity. He took a chest piece and held it to the sun, inspecting it with eyes that it did not have before carelessly throwing it to the ground with an angered grunt. The other automaton did nothing more than look at the one who threw away its project, but did not complain (for it simply could not) and went to pick up the chest piece before its hand was slapped away by Vilicus. “No! You cannot use such a ghastly thing! It has no form - nothing even remotely ornate about it!” Vilicus scolded the soulless machine, though letting out a disappointed sigh as the being continued to pick up its project and walk back to its post. Looking back to the sun, Vilicus spoke to the Great Sun, “Master, why do these things not understand true art?” Without waiting for an answer, the life-filled automaton stomped deeper into the Forge of Worlds towards an area that seemed to be storing the finished goods. The artist could do nothing more than let out a desperate cry at the sight that had befallen him! He turned away and felt as if he needed to wretch (even though he physically had no such feeling) and fell to his knees in tears! For all the arms and armors were nothing more than bare metals, unpainted and ghastly beyond reproach! He slammed a metallic fist into the ground unable to comprehend the horrors that had tainted his mind. “This cannot stand! I will not allow a single shipment to go like this!” He raged, unable to allow these to exist in His world. Vilicus looked to the air once more, gazing at the perfect artistry that was the Great Sun and His great architecture. How the soul wished that he could have been back there, creating art with the new body that he had possessed! Yet, he would not shirk the duty in which he was charged by the great and venerable Monarch of All. The automaton pointed a finger at the sun, declaring to it with a dramatic tone, “Know this, master, know that I, Vilicus, shall make sure that all these pieces shall be fit for even you to wear!” The automaton stood back up and turned to the ghastly mountain once more, hunching over a bit in intimidation. Surely he would not have to do all of them, after all it was a fair bit for even the likes of a lowly servant of the Monarch of All. Vilicus knew he would need aid, apprentices to his great artistry who might be able to aid in making these pieces truly something the likes of a Divine Guard of the Monarch. Looking towards the sky, Vilicus did ask a simple question, “Tlanextic, could you send a couple of people my way?… Not that you have to of course I know- Never mind, I’ll find a way.” Vilicus shook his head before stepping to the great mountain and pulling one of the ghastly blades from a neat pile and looking over it. He had no tools but he would be able to grab some from the other beings that worked the blades. “This will take a lot of time.” [hider=Summary] This focuses on the Forge of Worlds! A light drifts down to the continent and looks at a bunch of automatons before taking control of one and effectively being the ‘soul’. This is Vilicus and he critiques a breastplate from another automaton but the automaton does not care and goes back to work. Vilicus scoffs and goes to inspect the other goods only to find -le gasp- they are all ghastly and all substance but no looks! He laments at this but promises the Monarch that he will fix it. Then goes to Tlanextic to try and get help but decides against maybe angering Tlanextic and starts on his work. Happy Voligan Week! Also Vilicus is going to be a champion. [/hider] [hider=Spirit] Vilicus starts with none Spirit. +1 for existing +1 for being the main character Not quite long enough to be a medium post. Vilicus has 2 Spirit. [/hider]