[center] [IMG]https://i.imgur.com/f1dJpjn_d.webp?maxwidth=640&shape=thumb&fidelity=medium[/IMG] [img]https://i.imgur.com/89rDazC.png[/img] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1006944408438059143/1007740282005102662/CHUD.png[/img] [/center] On a seemingly random outcropping in the desertscape of the western coast, the black-clad goddess of conquest touched down with neither grace nor flourish. She surveyed the bleak sands and stone with an odd sensation of nostalgia - though this land was foreign to her, she felt drawn to the scalding sands and the throwing winds. A belonging. It was as good a place as any to start her journey towards her ultimate vision. Aveira kneeled down on her outcropping, stealing a handful of sand. Wistfully she let the coarse grains run through her fingers. The angel rose with new resolve, and set her gaze on the horizon as she slowly spun in place. Here her conquest would begin. Even if sand was to be her only witness - though she found herself detecting signs of life in sporadic pockets all around her. So it would be, her first task, she thought, and stretched out her wings. They tingled, though; something wasn’t right. She turned, and beheld a faroff giant’s approach. She’d been followed. The colossus was not running, but its mere walk carried it quickly enough. With each great, measured stride, the gray colossus cut away at the distance between them. It was coming for her – [i]fast.[/i] Huge interlocking gray plates made up a suit of armor that utterly hid whatever the giant was, but even so, its bearing alone somehow projected a steadfast resolve like few things ever could. With just a glance, she knew that flight was futile; it had fixated upon her, and would pursue her to the end of creation – or at least, until it caught her. So there was nothing to do but stand her ground. As the figure neared, its size did not change. From afar it had seemed as large as a mountain as it crossed the horizon, but as it now came to a halt about ten strides away from Aveira, its stature seemed only slightly greater than her own. [color=SlateGray]“Another spirit,”[/color] it rumbled in a monotone voice, and then it fell silent, staring, waiting. Aveira raised her scepter towards the shape in a silent attempt to meet the statuesque being with some dominant menace of her own. Her wings unfurled fully and the angel stretched herself in a doomed attempt to compete with its stature, despite the difference being rather small. [color=DCDCDC]“You trespass on my domain,”[/color] she answered after the silence between them began to bother her. [color=DCDCDC]“New though it may be. Why have you come? To stake your own claim?”[/color] Aveira grew indignant in her tone, gripping her obsidian weapon with both hands. The armored hulk didn’t look the least bit concerned with her scepter, nor did it react to her flaring out her wings. It may as well have been a statue because it didn’t react at all, and just remained there, staring for an uncomfortably long time. Eventually, it spoke again, [color=SlateGray]“My own descent from the sky was not far from here, though I ventured to the mountains beyond and found the Steward. You are fortunate that I care little for the land; this sandy waste can be yours. What else do you claim as yours, spirit?”[/color] Aveira released a terse scoff, appraising her counterpart with stern eyes. [color=DCDCDC]“I was promised to write reality according to my vision. I merely intend to fulfill that ambition. By simple means or others, I will bring unity - and with it, order.”[/color] She extended her scepter and gestured in wide, sweeping motion. [color=DCDCDC]“Life without a master is quarrelsome and chaotic. For everyone’s sake, I lay claim to all that is and will be.”[/color] [color=SlateGray]“Spirit of unity and order,”[/color] the other one addressed her, without a long pause this time. [color=SlateGray]“Your words ring True; the Steward is not likely to suffer you claiming all of creation, but that is not my concern. I came here to observe justice and uphold the laws; I too am a spirit of order. When I asked the Steward what laws there were, I was told that there were none save for those laws proclaimed by the spirits. So tell me, spirit of unity and order: what are your commandments? You need only decree them, and I will contend with any transgressors in a fitting manner.”[/color] The statuesque being’s request - demand, really - threw the pale angel enough for her imposing sneer to shift to an expression of thoughtful bemusement. [color=DCDCDC]“This steward of yours worries me not. Now, commandments…”[/color] she muttered, staring at the plated law-bringer. [color=DCDCDC]“Well, such is obvious. No mortal being shall impersonate power and majesty such as mine, nor plot to reach my heights or pilfer of my troves. Hierarchy exists not to be challenged.”[/color] Aveira lifted her staff-like scepter once more. [color=DCDCDC]“A good master provides enough for her subjects to serve with contentment. It is not for the lesser to carry ambition,”[/color] she proffered with a stern voice. [color=DCDCDC]“I believe you understand.”[/color] [color=SlateGray]“So you would only have me slay the thieves and would-be usurpers?”[/color] The other strange god might have understood and even agreed with her sentiment, but in the end, this was what he had taken away from her statements. His voice remained phlegmatic, but the choice of words made him sound almost disappointed. [color=SlateGray]“Let it be law.”[/color] Once more the angel scoffed, displeased with the statue-being's imagined apathy. [color=DCDCDC]“Law. Guiding principles for the weak and stiff-brained. So be it. So long as I need not concern myself with the matters of the insignificant, they can do whatever they wi-...”[/color] she paused in her own tirade. [color=DCDCDC]“Actually, that might be something. Failing to carry out or submit to my divine decrees should be a most grave sin."[/color] [color=SlateGray]“Let it be law,”[/color] the other one echoed back indifferently. In the heavens above, the blood-moon of dust and wonder shimmered, expanded for a brief second, and sent forth an enormous flare of shifting colours. The flare formed up on itself and became a small nebula that rolled and roiled like the furious surf before descending into the lower heavens and, compressing and forming up in great whirling clouds, then fell like a shooting star to Galbar. Plunging at impossible speed, it seemed to promise destruction mosty mighty and most terrible indeed, but only evaporated into gaseous nothingness as it blew up against the endless sand - not causing so much as a sand dune to rise or be flattened, though all about the witness gods the world shone with an unknown million fireflies, and it seemed that all of Galbar had become engulfed in a nebula. The nebula grew incorporeal arms that flailed in the skies and against the earth like the spiralling wings of galaxies, only to return like an elastic band to the very spot the nebulous shooting star had collided with earth. There, beneath the glowing form of the Awebringer and his heaven-grazing Sword of Wonder - and beneath the Son-o’-Falyn also, who slept at peace and ease in the arm of the god whose wings were the cosmos - were deposited a merry mishmash of critters and equines and insects and lizards that the nebula had gathered up. And, for no reason that was immediately apparent and from no source that anyone would ever quite identify (for there was never recorded, in the historical annals of elfkind, a happening where a great many elves were perceived to all at once be spirited away by the heavens) there was among the nebula’s haul an [i]unholy[/i] number of elves. On finding themselves thus deposited in such strange climes, they panicked with the other creatures and got to scattering in every which way and direction. Wonder, for his part, ignored the great maelstrom of chaos and confusion his descent had brought about. “In the lap of unliving aeons I slept... I was [i]caused[/i] to sleep! And I thought I would sleep forevermore, my fate thus halted and destiny foiled, the age of wonder stilled, the marvels of the world nevermore to be beheld. But behold: I have awoken! - you brought me forth, Anath; you stirred me once again. I have awed worlds before! I have beheld with the eyes of crazed wonder - I have struck with its sword; I have slain the lifeless corpses of those who could not marvel. I am come, Anath, you unloosed me on existence! [i]I strike with the sword of wonder.[/i] “You woke what should ne'er be woken and summoned what ne'er should be summoned through the veil of the beginning and end: and lo! this world was without wonder. Your voice unleashed me, then behold! there was wonder. I was the hidden jewel of the worlds, and I have come forth a wonder yet hidden; and I have come [i]for no other purpose than to be known.[/i] Aye, hear me: I am come only to be known! Behold me ye who are above and who are below, ye who are granted the beholding arts: [i]your perfection is in knowing me![/i] I am the wonder of the skies and trees! I am the wonder of the earth and rivers! I am the wonder of all your hidden selves and multitudinous forms! I am the wonder of the world - I am wonder! All that thou art is naught if wonder is not in it! Have it as you will; if you do not lift the veil of wonder then await my wonder's sword! Aye! when at last all have been called to the beholding, only then shall the sword of wonder fall upon the blind: [i]I strike with the sword of wonder![/i]” In an emotionless silence that might have passed for bewilderment – indeed, that might have [i]been[/i] bewilderment, for one could never know the expression of whatever visage hid beneath that helm – the armored god of justice witnessed the arrival of Wonder. [color=SlateGray]“Spirit of chaos,”[/color] he dubbed Wonder, [color=SlateGray]“what is wonder? What is the meaning of this tumult, and moreover, what would be your commandments?”[/color] “What is wonder?” The Awebringer’s voice boomed and echoed. “That is not the question of one who has come to know me! Have I not caused manifest glory to bloom all about you, man? Is justice blind that he should not behold wonder? What is justice without wonder! It is letters without spirit, rules without soul, roads without direction: oh justice! ‘Tis not just that you are blind! Shall the sword of wonder have to hack and fall that justice may shake sleep and slumber to rise tall?” He turned to the winged goddess. “Speak, you who are winged! Surely from your perch amongst the winds you have beheld with wonder! Surely we can make this blind fool see without the sting of steel and lick of liquid flame!” If the statuesque being's silence had been a sign of bewilderment, Aveira must have been struck with mind-boggling amounts of it. Her face twisted to a stoic scowl as she watched the new arrival. Had she beheld any wonder, she did not appear keen to share it with them both. The shrill cry of panicking mortals scattering in the dunes threw her attention elsewhere, and brought her out of her scornful silence. [color=DCDCDC]“Nothing shall be wondrous like the vision I shall hew out of this world,"[/color] she responded with cold apathy lingering in her tone. [color=DCDCDC]“Your tribute of mortals will build the first blocks of my demesne.”[/color] The eyes of the Awebringer, whose visage was all of a sudden the terror of the earth, bulged unnaturally. “[i]Tribute?[/i]” He hissed, a forked tongue flitting out of his mouth and his pupils shifting from amber pinpricks to slits of flame. Ignoring him, the angelic warrior raised her scepter into the air, and bellowed a simple [color=DCDCDC][b]“Halt!"[/b][/color] to echo out over the desolate desert sands. Throngs of elves and creatures alike (but mostly elves, for there was an unholy amount) stopped dead in their tracks. Those who appeared to try to escape turned over in exhaustion or pain, as the scepter radiated with divine power. A few toppled over in the hot sands, unable to stay conscious between the pressure on their mind, the heat, and the panic of traveling by deity. Aveira for her part seemed preoccupied with her new self-appointed task, and surveyed the bleak sands with no more interest paid to the wondrous traveler, at least not on the surface. “I had thought you greater than to pass over me, lady!” Wonder boomed, his voice causing the gathered elves to jump and even the sands to tremble. “Aye let the little things pass me over as they will, let them all go blindly by, but you!” He gestured at her with the Forever Child, who let out an unappreciative shrill shriek at being manhandled thus. The Son-o’-Falyn was no sceptre or pointing stick, after all, not even for the gods! “And you!” The god turned to armoured justice, gesticulating wildly with the shrieking babe. “Have you little minds - little eyes, little hearts, little faces, little souls!- that you should fail to see me? What woe! Oh that we should begin at such nadirs! Oh let these nadirs not be our heights! Are these not the ears for my voice? Are these not the eyes for my beholding? Are these- could it be?- that these are but the necks for my sword? Ah, when such blindness is the way of the gods it behooves my sword to strike!” He turned wildly from conqueror to justice. “Let it be so! If these are not the ears for my words then let these be the skulls for my strikes: mark it well now, kinsmen! [i]I strike with the sword of wonder![/i]” And he plunged the sword of a million flowing colours and flames into the desert sands so that all around flora bloomed and turned to dust and ash, and all about was a shaking and thundering of the cosmos, and all about was a deathly silence and emptiness, and all about was the arena of the coming war. “I have spoken much - oh much too much!” Wonder bemoaned, and even as he did a foolish elf chose to seek an escape route from under his terrible form. The god snapped down like a cosmic hammer and arose with the bifurcated anthropoid in his mouth, blood mixing with pain against wonder’s naked chest. “Behold, oh marvels!” His voice emanated even through the imprudent victim in his mouth; his pupils were amber pinpricks in his bulging eyes, his hair a curtain of dusk, his skin a deathly white beneath the flow and messy smattering of crimson blood. The Forever Child was seated on his shoulder, back turned to the two other gods, face grim and eyes as ink. “The trembling blade is more fluent by far than ten thousand voices orating war!” [color=SlateGray]“I see you now,”[/color] the armored god suddenly proclaimed, [color=SlateGray]“I see wonder for what it is: madness! You would strike at justice with your sword of chaos? Try it, foolish spirit, and I will sever your head with your own sword!”[/color] In a single measured step, armored justice seemed to become as vast a colossus as a mountain. He bore no weapon save for his gauntleted fists, yet with a meteoric weight he threw himself forward. The first of a hundred-hundred hammering blows struck the earth and rent wounds into it, and yet no sooner had he swung (and missed!) did the next fist fly. “Oh what a flighty fool you are!” Wonder declared, slipping away from such terrible and unseemly violence. “And were you not asking my commandments not moments ago? Here here, put your fists away and listen to my commandments! I am brought into the world for no other reason than to be known! Go, if you are justice and if you uphold the law, and tell everyone to know me. And if they don’t then it is mine to deliver the punishment! That too is my commandment: I strike with the sword of wonder!” [color=SlateGray]“Speak plainly,”[/color] the statue of justice commanded, his assault arrested for the moment. Still, he remained in that colossal state. Once more, he demanded, [color=SlateGray]“And make clear your commandments!”[/color] The Awebringer looked away petulantly, the dead elf still hanging between his jaws. “Well I already told you, don’t fault me if yours are not the ears for my voice. Maybe if you paused and listened you’d understand!” He turned back to him, brows furrowing. “I should give you a hacking, I should, I should carve you up so you know well to wonder! But ah, what use! Even a carved up oaf is still an oaf. What marvelous things they are, oafs.” He glanced at the conqueror, as though inviting her to agree, before returning to justice. [color=SlateGray]“Justice does not pause, nor speak in riddles.”[/color] “Well there you have it!” Wonder declared triumphantly. “We are at an impasse. To wonder you must pause and you, sirrah, do not pause! How can you enforce even the form of my words if you have no understanding of their depths?” He dismissed justice with a wave of the Forever Child, who had returned to his arm and did not look at all happy at being waved about. Turning to the conqueror, the elf still nestled between his lips and bleeding all over him, wonder smiled. “You have a sceptre but no sword. Conquest without a sword, what folly! Let me make you a sword the likes of which shall cause all conquered to wonder!” The angel turned to perceive the herald of wonder and panic, for once drawn out of her thoughts enough to consider the two in her presence, despite both shouting and violent assault on the landscape. [color=DCDCDC]“Go on then,”[/color] she urged with a tone that carried her words like a threat. [color=DCDCDC]“Give me a blade and it shall see each corner of creation. You speak of wonder, and it too shall be a feature of all that is mine. Any tribute to bring my vision closer is one I welcome. Meet my expectations and you may even be rewarded. Although you have much to make up for.”[/color] Wonder leaned back, fell, and rose into the air by the goddess, in a sitting position although he sat on nothing. “Tribute! Much to make up for? I’ve done nothing wrong at all!” He wiped a speck of blood from his brow. “And I don’t know of tribute, but I can certainly give you a present - a gift, you understand?” He knocked on her forehead with a knuckle. Aveira’s scowl deepened considerably as she jerked her face away from the intruder. “Prez-ent. Giffft. An endowment from a charitable kinsman to a more needy one, understand? A sort of trickle-down, if you will.” [color=SlateGray]“This frenzied spirit does not seem fit to rule or craft the laws that govern this world.”[/color] The statement came after a long pause, and seemed so emotionless as to just be another fact rather than some indictment or goading jab. Nonetheless, the titan’s gaze remained locked on the enigmatic, wild god that was Wonder. The floating god glanced at the armoured lord of justice and smiled amicably. Aveira raised her staff-long scepter between herself and the enigmatic god, frowning deeply. She cast a glance to the statuesque god before fixing Wonder with her gaze once more. [color=DCDCDC]“Offer your gift and bother me no more. I have better things to do than entertain your antics.”[/color] “How brusque!” Wonder complained, spinning away and planting his feet in the sand further off. “But it has been told in truth before and shall be told in truth forevermore: Blessed are the few - for they alone can wonder! The great mass of existence - even mortals, even gods! - pass by the marvels of the world and do not see them. Blessed are the few!” And as he spoke the sand arose about him and the cosmos in his wings became the furnace of the ages. The sword of wonder was a hammer, the anvil shrieking beneath its every blow. And as he hammered, as his wings burned, he spoke his monosyllabic declaration with every blow: “Bless’d!” He struck. “Are!” He hammered. “The!” He pounded. “Few!” Oh the anvil sighed beneath his strikes, sweat lined up his brow, blood spilled endlessly from the corpse of the elf between his teeth, and the eyes of the Forever Child were as the black holes of the world’s end. When he had hammered quite enough he stepped forth - anvil disintegrating and wings dissipating - and pulled from his armpit a finely wrought [url=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/79/ff/5a/79ff5a6eae4504b78a06b8541eb22b0c.jpg]greatsword[/url] on whose point the blood of the ceaselessly bleeding elf dripped, to give it an eternally bloodied tip. Green emeralds were studded into the massive upturned hilt and along the blade itself. Golden ruins were inscribed along the blue-grey metal - what metal it was, none knew. It glinted all the colours of coolness and death, it was the colour of dread and it was made from the cries of the conquered; it was wrought from the most powerful stuff in existence: the limitless wonder of a god thought deranged. Son-o’-Falyn on his shoulder, Sword of Wonder in one hand, and the Yoke in the other, the Awebringer came before the imperious goddess of conquest and raised Yoke heavenward. “Kneel, kinswoman, that you may receive your Yoke.” His eyes were glowing amber, his voice thunder, his wings as the cosmos about him, a crown of flame atop his head, his hair as a curtain of dusk around his pale face. The elf bled still between his jaws, and his chest was made crimson by it. “Kneel that you may rise beknighted, consecrated, beatified. Kneel that the age of wonder and conquest may be inaugurated: kneel that your rule may be a wonder unto worlds and ages forever and ever after!” Aveira looked, to say the least, skeptical of this ritual - or perhaps simply the command to kneel, which seemed to drive her suspicious scowl to new heights. Nevertheless, she slowly complied with the god’s instruction, settling her staff’s hilt in the sand as one knee touched the ground. She sank to receive this gift, though not without muttering; [color=778899]“This is the last time I kneel to you, nay, anyone.”[/color] The god of wonder looked down on her, his visage the incarnation of a maelstrom. The stars faded away in the heavens - snuffed out - and night descended all at once upon the world. Behind the Awebringer’s flame-crowned head, high in the celestial sphere, the burning bloodmoon emerged and was as a halo about the terrible god’s head. All around them, the elves beheld in wonder the simultaneously dreadful and wondrous sight of the unconquerable goddess on her knees before the terrible storm-faced god who had so casually consumed one of their own and even now had him in his mouth. The wondrous god beheld conquest and he trembled, shivered; what a wondrous fruit this was! He had beheld, it was true, but he had never conquered. Then all that slipped away and wonder cocked his head in surprise. “Hmm, wasn’t expecting you to do that.” He squatted before Aveira. “This is going to come out wrong, but you look incredible on your knees.” He smirked, extending Yoke to her by the pommel. “Receive your Yoke and behold its worth with wonder: none before it brought you to your knees, none but it has ever conquered you. In the first night of the world, arise, glorified knight of conquest!” The angel scoffed sharply, his words flushing her face with barely restrained fury. Her hand stretched out to grab the hilt of the blade, and fingers wrapped around it with a firmness that would snap a lesser blade in twain. Yet such contempt was reined in just as swiftly, and when she rose from the ground she appeared as impassive as once she had been. She tested the weight of the weapon by swaying it to and fro, wielding it easily in a mockery of physics and reason. Whatever it was that she felt from holding her new gift seemed to mollify the angel enough that she almost appeared peaceful for a moment - or filled with the curious wonder of an experienced thrill-seeker. Eventually the spell broke and she cleared her throat. [color=DCDCDC]“Hrm. I suppose this is enough to meet my expectations. I accept your gift, trickster. Those who refuse unity shall know the wonder of this blade intimately.”[/color] the angel compromised in lieu of gratitude. She turned to gaze out over the elves who had watched in horror and awe, and lifted the blade to point towards the closest of them. The nameless elf toppled into the dune quickly, instinct calling on him to bow before the trio. Sated, Aveira looked back at the other two. [color=DCDCDC]“I have given my commandment. I have received your tri-.. gift. Now I intend to gather these mortals before they perish. For enforcing my will, and offering me a boon, each of you will be welcome to seek an audience once in future. Use it wisely.”[/color] Wonder smiled amicably at her words, the Forever Child sleeping peacefully on his arm after the eventfulness of the encounter. “An audience! How official. And here I thought we’d become friends.” He grinned, glancing at the ever-inexpressive armoured god as though seeking agreement. None seemed forthcoming. The Awebringer seemed on the cusp of moving on smoothly when he paused and glared at justice. “Actually, y’know what, I’ve just about had it with you, fella!” And leaping onto the other god’s considerable shoulders, his feet becoming iron talons which gripped him by the pauldrons, the Awebringer beat his cosmic wings and lifted off into the air. He grinned down at the winged form of the conqueror, her elves gaping up at the crazy god’s antics. “Behold me always, for I am the wonder of the world! Your perfection is in knowing me!” He declared by way of farewell, and with a mighty beat of his wings of dusk and starlight, both gods were gone. Aveira watched the duo disappear and stared into the sky for an uncomfortably long time. It wasn't until the errant cry of an errant elf tripping over her feet in the sands resounded in the air that her concentration broke. Armed with her new Yoke, her Sword of Conquest, and her scepter, Aveira lifted up off the ground with a single powerful beat of her wings. Her wings took her in wide circles over the desert, wordlessly gathering stray mortals and even some creatures with flourishes of her scepter to enthrall them. It appeared to help that they were seemingly trapped in the desert and left to starve. The choice to follow their winged saviours wordless command was an easy choice to make, even for those who had witnessed the horror and confusing meeting of the gods. Under the cover of the first night, a procession of cold, scared mortals trailed after the flying conqueror, a moment that filled Aveira with an intense sense of reliving the past - though her memory did not allow her to recall why. She led them far along the dunes, until such a time that she was certain she had collected - or willingly rejected - each one. Her path took them to where the land was rent and filled with water, and Aveira, once more filled with deja vu, decreed that this would be the site of a great project. To mark the start of her intent, Aveira drove Yoke into the ground and used it to focus her own power. All around her and her elven followers, the ground rumbled and shook. Alabaster stonework rose from beneath the sands, taking shape into towers and smooth walls. Beneath them, the sand blew away to reveal a massive circular courtyard, with a raised gallery around it like an arena. Beyond the arena rose a massive temple, sparsely marked with symbols that resembled the tip of the scepter. The elves, panicked, awestruck, and overjoyed, called out from all around her. Aveira twisted the blade in the ground and water shot up from fountains scattered around the massive temple grounds. Large fronds grew from roots hidden deep below - or previously never existing. Life and comfort sprang from the ground. An oasis of greenery and comfort grew in the desert. A rough jewel, but the start of something great. [list][*][hider=Summary]Aveira and Chudungus meet and they’re chattin and stuff. Chudungus is being all uptight and can’t muster any emotional intelligence. “Tell me your commandments.” He demands and stuff. So anyway, Aveira tells him. Then Wonderbhoi shows up and ruins their party. Brings elves, importantly, gets into an argument with Chudungus, and gifts Aveira a cool new sword so she can more effectively conquer the world. Wonderbhoi is a far more supportive bro than Chudungus. And because Chudungus is so unsupportive, Wonderbhoi decides to kidnap him. Anyway, with those idiots gone, Aveira turns to more important business, like subjugating all those elves and laying the foundations for a cool new desert civ. Watch this space.[/hider] [*][hider=Expenditure]Wonderbjoi: 5MP/5AP – 2MP (discounted from 4MP): Create Yoke, known by many other names including the Blade of Subjugation, the Sword of Conquest, the Rod of Wonder etc. – 3 MP: New aspect booh yeah. SWORDS. Aveira: GRACE PERIOD 2/2 LEFT -- 2 MP: Made a nice green zone oasis biome in the desert to make the city liveable and lovely and wow so good -- 2 AP: made her realm, a big desert temple with a big arena (fog wall sold separately) and surrounding city worthy of hosting an imperial court [/hider][/list]