[center][h1]Sylia[/h1]

[h3]In Defense of The World[/h3][/center]

[hr]

There was only the hot breeze, dry as bone on that sunless day. A great storm was pouring forth from the endless sands that no one ever returned from. Where they sent those that had wronged them, that had broken the sacred vows that bound them all together. But that was before the end times. Before the demons slithered back. The souls they had all damned instead of saved. The elders had decreed it their punishment. The young had ceded power into madness, fighting back only to be killed. The stupid followed. The brave followed. The cowards survived. And that was what he was. A coward. The bundle in his arms mewled as the path into the desiccated village narrowed between two rocks. He pulled back the cloth with a thin hand and was greeted by the smile that kept him going. One that he would always gladly return.

“Pyla,” he cooed, “What have you found to be so funny today?” he asked, beaming down at his small daughter. She was much too small and too lean for one not yet two winters, but such was what they could do when the world was dying. Life had to go on. 

Pyla cooed back, squirming her hands out of the tight fold of his wrap. Two grubby hands held out towards him. He smiled again. 

“We are almost home, Pyla. We must get this water to your mother you know? Before the sands come in. Bear with me, my child. Just a little longer.” he made his way in between the two rocks. On the other side sat abandoned and desecrated mud huts. Or what he once knew to be homes. How long had it been since the others had gone?

Pyla began to whine in frustration, her half words and baby talk a gurgle of what sounded like anger. For a goblin babe, she would surely half a loud voice. Just like her mother. Even thinking about Kala sent his heart into a spiral. She was very sick and without her, he knew not what he would d-

A steady rumble began, followed by the scurrying of clacking feet across stone. It sent shivers down his spine and he froze. Pyla also quieted, especially when he put his free hand over her mouth. He felt the struggle there within her but he pleaded to his dead gods for aid. Keep the child quiet, just for now and he would do anything. 

The clacking feet spurned itself closer as the rumble grew into a steady thrum and he bounded behind a mud wall and in those precious seconds, he felt as if his heart would explode, that he would be caught and Pyla- He looked down to see those giant blue eyes wide with fright. It was a sight that threatened to break him completely but he knew he could not. Her life depended upon his focus. So he peered out behind his wall. That old village had been constructed in a sort of hide away, in a cut underneath a sheer cliff. The other side was a drop off and an overlook, far and wide of the surrounding area. There were only two ways in and out, on opposite sides of the village. His ancestors had used it for generations and now, only his own small family remained. He peered in the opposite way he had come from, the way that was littered with old bones and burnt out huts. The source of the sounds.

The entire cliff face felt like it was vibrating now. Sand and dust began to clog the air. Then came the sounds of thrashing and fighting, the clattering of teeth and great roars. He also sent a prayer for the love of his life to stay where she was, deeper under the cliff. With any luck she would be alright.

He spotted something and ducked, fearing he would be spotted. The noise of running- no, rampaging feet came closer and closer. He clutched Pyla tight to his chest and prayed. Oh, did he pray. Let it pass. Let it go by. Let the earth and the wind be free of all troubles. Let this thing pass. And to his surprise, the things didn’t even stop to sniff the air. To scent his fear. They ran past, followed by more and more feet. He dared a look and wished he hadn’t- Demons of every shape and size, every color and deformity- the stuff of truest nightmares. He looked away and sighed. 

They were running past.

Then came a new sound, as the rumbling from the earth grew loudest. The sound of screams. He covered Pyla’s ears, having dropped his bucket. Terrible sounds they were and his daughter trembled, for she and he could feel it in their bones. There came a quick shuffling of feet and a terrible slicing sound as something thudded next to his brick wall. 

Then a voice, as clear as day and fierce as sandstorm, broke through the rumbling like an arrow, “Send this infestation into the storm!”

He dared to look again and could hardly believe his eyes when he bore witness to the being of liquid silver, foot upon the corpse of a demon as she pointed at the storm to the giants that now glided past as if they were riding the very earth like some wave. The source of the rumbling?

“You there, goblin man.” the voice said, and he looked to see the imperious gaze of a divine looking back at him. For this was a God, a God of his prayers. He knew it as he knew the very air he breathed and the water he drank. 

“You are safe from these fiends, now and forever. You and all mortals have lost much, for my part, we shall never face this threat unprepared ever again. Now live.” And she waved her hand upon him before vanishing. The goblin man blinked hard, finally removing his hands from Pyla’, who he found, was fast asleep. 

Not really thinking, perhaps too stunned to even think, he wandered over to the overlook, avoiding the corpses of the creatures. They would have to be burned, he noted. But he almost stumbled when the air in his throat caught. Stretched out before him, across his home, the demons were fleeing, chased by those that rode the earth like a wave. Who fought the creatures that had taken everything from them. Who pushed them back into the desert for their sins. He did not notice the footsteps approaching before someone tackled him. He almost fell over, tears blurring his vision at the sight of his love, mother of his child, looking healthier than ever. 

Perhaps the world wasn’t ending after all. Perhaps it was just beginning again. 

[hr]

At the breaking of Sylann's siege, it had been a sight to behold and all those on the wall who bore witness to their Divine marching forth- It was enough to make any weep. The invaders fled under the heel of metal as the hunters became the hunted. What shrieked and destroyed with impudence was now in turn annihilated. On land, in the sky and under the waters. Holes were sealed, gates were enforced, and the enemy fled. 

Sylia still led her host, the might of her legions like a great flood washing away filth. Yet, despite it all, even she could not fix what had already been broken, not right away, not instantaneously. The damage had been done to her people. Many had died. Many would be haunted by what the siege cost them. Such wounds ran deep and could not be healed. It would be another task to remedy when the war was over. 

For this was war. War between those that called Galbar home and those who sought to defile it. Sylia would not let such foul creatures win. So she barreled forward, cold bloodlust raging in her metal heart. 

Her Formed, those beings of metal and power, were her great and terrible swords. The invaders had difficulty adapting any sort of fighting style to combat them. When the very earth turned against you, there became few options. Running away was the greatest of them. Who could stand and fight against a hail of boulders? Great ravines that opened up to swallow those unfortunate enough to fall into crushing depths? Waterways, lakes and even the great ocean became as mud when the Formed passed, choking away anything that could not swim fast enough. Even the skies became choked with dust and rock spikes, launched with precision and cold efficiency. For the Formed were not a host of protectors or shields, they were the hammer that drove the nail in. They would not stop, they could not stop when she led them. And for every Formed that fell, the invaders lost multitudes more. So they chased and fought and chased and fought, pushing the incursion past the great river and skirting the western side of the great basin before spreading out like a great wall that constantly moved south.

The tree was ever shining. A beacon for the defender’s world. Even at their backs.

Eventually they reached the great desert that encompassed the sea of blood, where Sylia knew the incursion had begun. For a vast stretch of land even her own eyes could not see the entirety of, they had swept the land free of the invaders. Now there was only the great push to truly end it. But sand… Sand was a different beast. Until she remembered what Asheel had done once. But unlike Asheel, Sylia went a step further. 

From the desert came vast wyrm-like creatures of living metal. Of flowing golds, rusty irons, shining silvers, dull coppers- all the mundane metals of the world. They would thrive upon the desert denizens , forming an equilibrium when their great task was completed. They bowed before her, these troop transports, these steads of terrible wrath. Upon them the Formed went, gliding through the desert and destroying those unlucky few who could not escape until the very air became tinged with crimson. The bite of rust clung in the air as the sand turned to earth once more. At least, what could be considered earth. 

What Sylia found there at the bottom of the world, disgusted her. Not some invasion to conquer the world, but a fully fledged settlement stretching all along that bloody ocean. Black was the invader’s structures. Twisted and deformed but with purpose. Chambers to multiply in, to form a new horde in an endless game of invasion. They had built their own wall around these settlements, as if they suspected they would be driven back. It was then that Sylia knew, even as her Formed gathered for their final push, that these things were there to stay. Even if she wiped them out, even if she spent all her time and energy upon it, they would survive like a disease. She would not allow it. Thus, Sylia halted her siege before it even began. 

The Goddess of Craft and Metal, knew what she had to do. She already had the blueprint, afterall. 

With her newfound grasp upon the nature of earth, Sylia tore the land asunder around the entirety of the blood ocean. Vast swathes of sand and the invader’s filth tumbled into the abyss as the very world quaked with her might. The ocean swirled in giant waves and tsunamis as her greatest work yet came to fruition. Then it came, from the very foundations of Galbar itself. An immense black wall, unlike any that would ever come forth in creation. Rising above mountains and as dense as the very core of the planet. Unbreakable, unshatterable- Nothing and no one would ever be able to get through it. Not by any means other than divine and even then, it would be a feat. One she dared any invader to make. Those great Outer Beasts were just that- beasts. Who were they to stand against her? Sylia willed it so. 

Those that could fly would find no purchase for safety against the lack of air, the biting cold and winds. Those that dug deep and tunneled into the roots of the world would find it stretched beyond them, into the very heat of the planet. Natural caves and tunnels formed by Hummus in the beginning were blocked by the wall. To even attempt to climb upon the metallic stone would take months, without rest. Inconceivable. When Galbar at last began to settle, Sylia, drained now for the first time since creation began, placed into the wall a holy site. The only entrance and the only exit, her Watchpoint. Made of silver metal, it sat at the halfway point of the wall’s height and could only be accessed by those that could fly. She would have to come up with a better solution later. For now, she placed half the Formed within to man the installation and keep a watch on the enemy. For they would be the guards of that prison. 

And Sylia, the Warden Eternal.

[hider=Summary]
We see the effects of the invasion upon a goblin dad and his kid. Sylia and her legions march forth and have been liberating the south of the greater infestations, successfully pushing back the invaders to the desert. Wherein the pursuit, Sylia creates her troop transports, great Mettallicum Wyrms, made of pure metals and devourers of the rolly polly. They slaughter their way across the desert until they reach the Blood Ocean, finding permanent structures the invaders have been building. Realizing that, try as she might to wipe them all away, they could somehow find a way to build back up and then invade, Sylia decides to create a continent sized wall around the blood ocean as containment. She places half of the Formed in her newest Holy Site, called the Watchpoint, to monitor and deal with any attempted escape. (though this is basically impossible without divine aid). Drained now, Sylia takes the monitor of Warden.
[/hider]

[hider=MP]
Sylia 14
-4MP to claim the Earth Domain

-3MP (boosted with Metal and Earth to 9MP) to create the Mettalicum Wyrms - Vast creatures of living metal (can be any metal but but divinium and it’s alloys), they inhabit the great wastelands of Galbar, feeding upon the great Rolly Polly and anything unfortunate enough to not escape their maws.

*6mp towards their metallic hides, incredibly durable but if one managed to kill one, they would have a very lucrative venture.
*3mp towards their innate abilities to travel through sand and even a little bit of earth, but far rarer. They hunt by sensing vibrations.

-6MP Transcendental Action (Boosted with Metal and Earth Domains to 12MP) - To create the Black Wall around the blood ocean. A wall so immense it makes mountains look like hills. Created from the earth and infused with the strongest of her metals, the Black Wall is a containment facility to keep the vast hosts of invaders away from the world proper. It is basically impossible to break through it, fly over it or dig under it without some sort of divine aid. There is only one entrance, being Sylia’s holy site, that can’t even be accessed by the otherside without being able to fly. 

-1MP to create a Holy Site, the Watchpoint. A holy Site designed to be the first signal in any further invasions and a general location to oversee the invaders and the blood ocean. 

0MP remaining 

(2/4 For War Domain)
[/hider]