[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/RBu0nAi.png[/img]

and

[b][h3]The Messenger[/h3][/b][/center]

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With an exaggerated crack that resounded through the air, a set of six, shimmering feathered wings [i]unfolded[/i] from empty space and then unfurled to reveal the lithe form of Hermes - Herald of the Gods adorned in his distinctive wide-brimmed helmet and bearing the twinned-serpent stave, Kerykeion. As the flowing traces of light rushing across his wings faded, they tucked into themselves, merging into a single flowing cloak of feathers about his shoulders.

The reverberations of the burst were soon lost in the sound of rustling leaves and birdsong. The god stood at the edge of a wide clearing between two stretches of forest, curving off to both sides like a great bending road. The grass underfoot was tall and unruly, with long coarse stalks that itched against the skin. Across the glade from him, the trees stood vast and thick, circling the opening in a great ring whose further edges he could not see from where he stood. Nearby, the living colonnade of wood and bark seemed no different, at least at first glance; but to his trained eye, it was clear that the spaces between the trees were more even, and that their branches were in many places lower and thicker, draped with some sort of lichen.

Suddenly, there was a rustling in the leaves overhead, and in the space of a blink something large and dark was hurtling down towards him. A broad, barrel-like chest, with mighty ribs visible through leathery skin and matted fur - two arms from every shoulder, ending in recurve yellow claws - a head like the skull of a toothy ape, grown over with mangy hide - those lichenous vines clinging to its every extremity, like the strings of a grotesque marionnette - Hermes, who had experienced similar displays of the four-armed creature’s ilk before, simply surveyed the terrain without moving or seeming to react to its descent.

Indeed, when its paws were mere inches away from his head, the beast abruptly stopped, as though the vines holding it aloft - which now visibly grew into its very skin - had run their length. With a raucous growl, it slid upwards along the trunk, pulled by its organic cords, and remained hanging midway up like an immense hairy spider, its sunken eyes never leaving the intruder.

It was only when its ascent stopped that a previously nigh-imperceptible figure detached itself from the shadows of the grove and advanced into the clearing. The Watcher of the Woods, Artemis, seemed a part of the forest come to life. There was ostensibly nothing too unusual about her; too tall, perhaps, and too sharp-featured for a Hellene woman, but not much different from them in her garb or the modesty of her ornaments. Even still, her movements had something less than human to them, a fluidity both animalistic and mechanical, and when she stood in place, it was as firmly and motionlessly as the trees.

“Hermes,” her voice was as inexpressive as her eyes, but not yet as hard, “You have a message.”

“Naturally, oh Artemis, most imperishable and unbesmirched of the Gods.” Hermes threw her an extremely lazy salute before flicking a wrist and producing ablack-and-gold filigreed letter seemingly from thin air. “I come bearing a message for Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, from Zeus, King of the Gods and the Heavens, the All-Father on high, with the utmost exigency.” He paused for a moment and turned his helmeted gaze upwards. “Though I must qualify that it is for your ears alone.”

"There are no others here." Nonetheless, the goddess made a slight gesture with her fingers, a motion whose stirring only further evidence the unnatural austerity of her posture, and the beast on the tree almost soundlessly withdrew out of sight among the higher branches.

Hermes haphazardly tossed the letter to Artemis from across the clearing, the blackened parchment seeming to drift across the grove on unseen wind until it came in reach of her darting hand.

[center][h3]BY DECREE OF THE LORD OF OLYMPUS[/h3]
The Highest, King of the Gods, Father of All:
[b]ZEUS[/b]

Let it be known that Zeus is dead. His rightful Heir – forever may he rule – has succeeded him to the divine name and mantle of Zeus.

Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, is formally invited to a gathering of the High Pantheon at Zeus’ palace in Mount Olympus, on the noon of the day following receipt of this note. Zeus will accept oaths of fealty, and make the first announcements of his reign.

Signed, Zelos
Majordomo of the Highest Palace, Servant of Zeus Almighty[/center]

“I have also been instructed to verbally inform you that you are hereby [i]summoned[/i] to Mt. Olympus to attend Zeus at the stated place and time.” Hermes added after allowing Artemis a moment to view the letter.

The Maiden's already thin, predatory lips tightened as she read, one eyebrow arching upwards in either surprise or curiosity. She rolled up the missive again with a single hand and nonchalantly tossed it into the undergrowth behind her back.

"Then he did die as well," she mused, her eyes still fixed on Hermes, but her words drifting past him, "But he was not old, not that way. Was it bloody?"

“Oh, scarcely so, if only because his death was so macabre that his blood curdled into cruor before it could seep out from him. The state of what is left is so vile it would not even be fit for your beasts to gnaw on.” Hermes chattered with an almost conspiratorial air, waving his free hand out to the side, the very essence of a gossip.

If his flippancy had the intent to elicit a more vivid response, however, it was to be disappointed. Artemis' expression lost even that little shade of unsettlement, as though she had expected to hear nothing short of that. "A grim sight it must have been. Who was it that struck him down?"

“Alas and alack, the culprit evades justice. His Renewed Highness Zeus has, naturally, sworn that the perpetrator will be found…though his first official order was for me to deliver his summons to all of the High Pantheon, and as far as I am aware he has yet to contact any of the other gods.”

Hermes actually laughed aloud then, a lengthy, exaggerated titter that carried on a ways beyond the confines of the grove.

“Somehow I feel as though this matter may remain [i]unresolved[/i] for some time.”

A measure of surprise returned to the goddess' face. "I rather thought he would have met his end in battle if it came to it," she shifted her weight from one leg to another, a deliberate motion that left her poised to sprint, "There are few things that can slay one of us silently. If it is something we do not yet know, I would gladly challenge it in the hunt. This riddle cannot last all so long."

“Careful, goddess. Sometimes in the chase, one is the master or the hound - and sometimes the prey is sacrificial. You should know full well how an owner might dote on their beasts.” Hermes wagged a finger sardonically. “Even Apate has nary an inkling of how it was done or who might be responsible. If a culprit is found at all, I fear for the [i]convenience[/i] of such a discovery.”

"You make it too complex, Hermes," Artemis rolled her bow-shoulder, flat annoyance in her eyes under a smooth brow, "You, Apate, all of Olympus. If Zeus' murder cannot distract you from your shadow games, nothing will, and Typhon's next rising will find you caught in a trap you set yourselves."

“Well that’s just a patently unfair assessment!” Hermes exclaimed. “Typhon is already a trap of our own making, you can’t just keep pulling the Typhon card every time something - ah. I forget myself.” He performed a low, exaggerated bow to Artemis. “And that besides, I am merely a messenger, and you the Huntress. Perhaps I should think better of trying to argue the matter of traps and chases with as peerless an exemplar as you.”

He righted himself and then stared pointedly at Artemis for a long moment, almost expectantly. A heavy silence filled the air.

“Well, I had better get going then. I have the rest of the High Pantheon to deliver to. I will see you at Olympus, goddess.” He tipped his helmet to her as his cloak once more unfurled into a set of six shimmering, feathered wings once more. Then encompassed his frame, and with another resounding and exaggerated crack, they folded upon themselves in a flash of light until nothing was left.

Not a scant moment after his departure, there was an abrupt yelp, and a woman tumbled down from the canopy above to crash headlong to the ground where Hermes had just stood. 

Artemis stared at the intruder. Hermes was often known to either steal from or else play pranks on those who did not offer him some form of token recompense for his services - but in her grove, there was naught of value that the Herald could have possibly taken, nor anybody else around for kilometers save for slavering beasts.

So Hermes had evidently made-do by teleporting some hapless mortal directly into the grove. Perhaps somebody who had prayed for his intervention just then - or who had slighted him.

With a groan, the newcomer began to lift herself off the ground, her forearms sinking into the grass as they heaved up her shoulders. By the standards of most cities, there was nothing remarkable about her: neither plump nor malnourished, clothes neither too fine nor shabby, calloused fingers. She rose to her knees, turning up at last her disoriented eyes, which immediately fell upon the goddess. Her disheveled face paled and dropped back in awestruck fear as a stifled yelp died in her throat.

Artemis let out a hissing breath, and a scowl finally fell across her brow. The coming days were going to be very long.