Preparations were being made to mount an expedition. Given the information Monica had relayed, the Northern region appears to have a majority rule. Marching up there alone with an army would put an end to young Grym too quickly. He was selfish, not suicidal. To contend as a player in the game he’d have to play a bit of catch-up. The map told him the South remained mostly unchecked. Some Gods continued pushing deeper into the chaos while others hunkered down to develop their lands. It was uncanny how differently the two regions had developed. Without unity, a surprise attack from the central node would surely grant him a bounty. To do so, he needed an army and the Cradle would provide. 

To provide the numbers he needed, it took a few weeks for the Cradle to birth a full force by itself. Grym could have infected mortals to accelerate the process, what few didn’t flee, but he had a point to make. He hadn’t addressed even a single mortal yet, but for the few who stayed he wanted them to understand they weren’t under threat. Even as the number of offspring grew exponentially, they remained explicitly close to the Cradle. Not a single mortal had been harmed. These were the denizens of his realm after all. Grym could be unreasonable and flippant, but ruthless? No; at least, not indiscriminately.

While Grym waited for his army to amass he wanted to introduce himself to the remaining denizens of node 18. Most that remained were either too weak to flee or afraid to take the chance. So few had stayed that they gathered within a single settlement to the southern tip of the node. It was as far away from the Cradle that they could manage without leaving. A group of able-bodied volunteers had opted to defend the vulnerable population. Such defiance in the face of assured destruction, captivated him. Mortals had all the heart and mind of a God, but without their power. Their determination was endearing as well as admirable.

To approach them, he shrouded his rusted plate and rotted flesh with a long overcoat. He also fashioned a pristine helmet with a neckguard. During one of the group’s excursions for food and materials, Grym managed to snag the buck they’d been stalking as a show of good faith during his introduction. He wasn’t received as warmly as he’d hoped, however. A scowling woman heading the group had her expression fixed on the deer, and then Grym as he grew close.

[color=f6989d]“Who the hell are you? And why did you take our quarry?”[/color] The woman, Nea, barked before Grym even began.

[color=ed1c24]“Name’s Grym, lover of melons and fun. I stopped this from fleeing, so you’re welcome.”[/color] Grym consoled, seemingly deaf to the point Nea was trying to make.

She furrowed her brow in disbelief, and then disbelief turned to frustration. Nea exhaled slowly through her nose and composed herself enough to speak through gritted teeth.

[color=f6989d]“He wasn’t [b]going[/b] to get away. And if you were going to take the kill anyway, why the hell didn’t you do it before we spent an entire day?!”[/color]

Grym audibly clamored in response to the accusation. He hadn’t a good answer. All that came out was, [color=ed1c24]“Y-you knew I was following you?”[/color]

A man by the name of Dorian, who’d been lingering toward the back till now, piped up. [color=fff79a]“Mate, you’re 7 feet tall and clatter like a full kitchen. Of course we heard you. You’ve been eyeing the village for days.”[/color]

[color=ed1c24]“Really? But how did you know it was me?”[/color] Grym couldn’t recover at this point. Not only had he underestimated these mortals, but his perspective was completely disconnected from theirs.

[color=f6989d]“Your opinion of mortals must be 'dumb as bricks' if you thought a coat and helm would do the trick.”[/color] Nea remarked. [color=f6989d]“That or you’re simply lame in the brain.”[/color] She tacked on, nodding agreeably at her own summation.

He was no match. Playing at benevolent provider really wasn’t his strong suit anyway. A defeated silence consumed the meadow. Grym rid himself of the fabric and tossed aside his helmet, his ego completely deflated. The mortals had bested him, but most importantly had humbled him. He still insisted they take the deer from him, as he had no use for it, and properly introduced himself as a supposed divine. None of them accepted the revelation after such an embarrassing display, though they couldn’t deny that his unfinished body could not human. Warily, Nea agreed to permit his company back to the settlement. 

It was here that Grym regained himself slightly and re-entered the interaction in a more transparent manner. Nea, Dorian, and a few other trusted humored Grym’s request for conversation; out of curiosity and desperation.

[color=ed1c24]“These lands and its recent circumstances are results of my actions.”[/color] He began earnestly. [color=ed1c24]“I am Grym, of divine nature and influence, but I would not harm or subjugate you. The creatures to the North that you fled are of my creation and it isn’t a coincidence that you’ve gone unbothered.” [/color]

The conversation continues with Grym detailing the Cradle and the nature of its offspring. He regales the state of the Crucible, what the appearance of divine beings means for the future, and what his own goals are regarding the Crucible.

[color=f6989d]“So, what; you intend to kill every other God because you can’t trust them?”[/color] Nea inquired. [color=f6989d]“Why would we trust you, then?”[/color]

[color=ed1c24]“I’m not decided yet. I certainly don’t trust any one God to rule the Crucible. I want a world where Gods are not chained to destiny and the world isn't chained to Gods.”
[/color]
[color=fff79a]“So why should we trust [i]you[/i]?”[/color] Dorian insisted. 

[color=ed1c24]“You don’t have to, but I’m asking for your help because I need it. I wouldn’t ask without offering something in return. Accompanying the risk you’d take there will be plenty to gain and I will guarantee the safety of your kin.”[/color]

The group of 50 or so went quiet, their minds caught in deliberation. Nea requested three days for each of them to decide individually whether to follow him. Grym agreed, returning to the node for the time being to organize his assault force. Peninal and the Hydra had assumed commanding authority in his stead. His army was just about ready to march. The remaining days were spent preparing his horde to march, totaling around a thousand offspring and counting. The Cradle would continue to reproduce in Grym’s absence and would be granted the autonomy to defend itself or advance within reason. Node 13 to the north would probably be the Cradle’s first stop once it could produce a smaller splinter force, but Grym would take the current standing force with him to the Southern region now.

On the dawn of the third day Grym marched his force Southward, with him soaring ahead on Akky to reconvene with the mortals. Roughly 30 of the 50 fittest had elected to join him. Some outright decline while many maintained their commitment to assisting the vulnerable denizens of their village. Nea and Dorian led a group of volunteers to where Grym stood with Akky at the edge of the settlement.

[color=ed1c24]“Glad to see you both.”[/color] Grym mused.

[color=f6989d]“Can’t leave an idiot like you to his own devices.”[/color] Nea paused, giving Grym a once-over. [color=f6989d]“ You are a [i]him[/i], right?”[/color]

[color=fff79a]“We would be fools to sit idly by while the rest of the world moves toward this triggering event. Unfortunately you’re the God we’re stuck with. Don’t disappoint me, ay tin man?”[/color] Dorian added.

Grym acknowledged their statements in a rare display of solemn respect. The half-man stepped toward them and had his disciples line up. The ground shook, cracking beneath them, as an aura of fierce fiery light crept up from these fissures.. Blood erupted from their bodies and intertwined with the divine energy to singe their skin, burning permanently into various patterned markings. These innocuous scars were auburn in color, resembling dried blood, and had no contrasting texture compared to ordinary skin. From here on, these men and women were blessed as his faithful. Grym had used the rest of his pooled might to do this and arm them with suitable equipment. 

[color=ed1c24]“You are now officially patroned by yours, truly. Those markings recognize you as Warriors of the Blood Oath, as well as the power you’ve been granted. Now, we head South. Just one more detail you should know before we go.”[/color]

Grym explained his late arrival to the Crucible left most Gods unaware of his existence. The one God he’d met, Monica, only had relations with Gods in the north. He intended to hide his identity for as long as possible during the campaign, instead taking Monica’s appearance to stir up Southern politics. With a legion of offspring on the horizon, Grym joins them with his faithful to march into node 23. All one could hear was the thumping of marching as the great force made its way into the heart of node 23 essentially unchallenged. This node he knew to be neglected and unattended by the God who claimed it. It was rather similar to node 18, a stabilized land and nothing more than that. Peninal accompanied Grym at the front with the vanguard at the rear, as they approached the node. Claiming it was a formality in this forgotten land, though he had exhausted his divine influence so this was currently as much he could muster. Despite how simple it was to capture a second node, Grym elected to rest some. He’d been pushing himself over the edge just to get to this point so he’d decide his next move cautiously. Not to mention, something had been bothering him about Pops. Grym felt an unusual change from him ever since the reanimation. If the head had been taken for a reason by the other Gods, then it must have some value. It could be that something lies inside Peninal’s body as well, but who knows what?

[hider=Summary]Grym prepares for a campaign in the South. He meets with the single remaining settlement of mortals that hadn't fled during the creation of the Cradle. He offers a deal of cooperation with the most able-bodied of the bunch. A group of them accept his offer and are given a powerful blessing. The group is henceforth named "Warriors of the Blood Oath." With a vanguard of mortals at his side and Peninal's revivified corpse as a personal bodyguard, Grym heads South disguised as Monica to stir things up. The Hydra is left with the Cradle to defend node 18. Node 23 is effortlessly taken, though Grym lacks any remaining power to influence the realm. He decides to take a brief reprieve and deliberate his next action.[/hider]

[hider=Might][u][b]Starting Might: 5[/b][/u]

[b]-4 Might:[/b] Spent on an advanced group blessing. Created 32 Warriors of the Blood Oath.

- The Oath of Blood is Grym's first act of divine intervention with mortals. The blessed have had their blood and bodies altered forever, allowing each warrior to extract and utilize their blood as a tool. Their blood contains several unique properties, being able to change states of matter at will. In a solid form it becomes a tough black matter that is able to contend with the finest steel, while in a liquid state it can be manipulated adeptly (think water bending). Each warrior is only able to manipulate their own blood, as it's been altered by the blessing for this purpose. They can use it to create weapons or objects or harden it within their veins to soften blows or prevent blades from rending through flesh easily. It also allows them to circulate blood through their body without their heart and re-attach limbs to continue fighting, though a permanent means of healing amputation is not possible through this ability alone. Their blood is now a medium for utility, with its uses and limitations up to the individual user.

[b]-1 Might:[/b] Spent on copying and taking on Monica's form/voice. 

[/hider]