[color=9e0b0f][i][center][h1]Adria[/h1][/center][/i][/color]

	[color=9e0b0f][i]“I believe it will.”[/i][/color] Adria answered to her sister in black. Her gaze lingered towards the sky itself before lazily gesturing towards it with an open hand. [color=9e0b0f][i]“This collaboration that you both have weaved together, replaced the sky of the ones that came before us.”[/i][/color] She confessed though their was admiration beyond her confession, while gradually, her gaze turned to the marking world, watching carefully what her siblings had done. Each mark that the divines had made was beautiful, entertaining and, mysterious in their own ways, It would not be allowed without consequences.

	If the markers of the first world could design the world that surrounded them but relinquish their responsibility to finish it, something had to claw at their heart. Though countless questions about their marker would silence as the temple revealed itself to them. A sharp gasp parted her lips as she flew in closer without waiting for the others. This had to offer answers that would silence her mind, answers that couldn’t wait. Brazenly, she landed in the temple. Her metal footsteps echoing back to her while she witnessed the different alcoves that spoke of divine.

	Each one written, designed, and formed to fit her siblings to the letter, as if they were already planned. Pricks on the back of her neck lingered, as she circled around the crumbling throne while she searched for understanding. Was this passing the torch? Leaving the world to the hands of her siblings for reasons still unknown. Was it a precaution, something was hungrily ravaging the world and needed twelve gods to finish their work. Was their birth born out of sacrifice?  She wanted that to be so. That this world was made from sacrifice, and it will be nourished with new creation.

	Soon the clinking of metal stopped as she stared at her Alcove of Scafrice and War. Her domain, her responsibility to the newborn world. Adria stayed at her alcove for a moment longer, leaving a faint smile of uncertain purpose. Then the world shook. Tremors so powerful it made Adria plant her trident for support. Leaning in with her might wait until it stops. Yet it did not stop, as a sharp pain forced itself into Adria’s mind, almost as if the answers she desperately sought slammed a hammer into her head. Immediately she collapsed to the ground, her trident clattering against the divine stone while she gripped her head. Trying to make sense of it all and then…
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	Blood. Adria was kneeling in a vast ocean of blood, as warring shadows that drifted into color filled all the empty space. Some were dressed in silver armor fighting against their own kind as their swords and maces ringed out Adria's name. Others were green with rippling muscles and having tusk that couldn’t fit in their mouths. Countless others took form as it was a never ending battle, and as the battle poured more blood into the crimson ocean, more bodies filled the space. While arrows and rocks flew into the air, crushing their marks with no remorse.

	Adria tried to move, but she couldn’t as she was bitten by a snake with venom that dripped with dread and shame. It truly felt like time had no power here, that the only thing that mattered was endless hymns of clashing metal that cried out her name, and the cries of the victor praised her help. Anger festered in her heart the longer she stared at the countless bodies that laid on the ground. This was not what she wanted. Not ever. With wrath roaring out like a dragon she opened her wings, letting her crimson wings shine, commanding all to look upon her with the same dread that paralyzed her, as she deliberately slammed the air outward towards the bodies with fury. 

	The air from her wings roared out, forcing the moving bodies back into nothingness and forced the bloody ocean to dry out. Until nothing remained until it was black stone and corpses. Slowly by her command corpses rose into the air, their bodies darkening as they became stone. Solidifying the face of valor and courage onto their faces. Leaving only a plague that ringed out their name with honor. Then the world returned to the temple. Leaving Adria with what her domain was called to do. Her black massacre that rested below her eye began to drip. Leaving a faint black line down her cheek, becoming one with her final form.

	She had her answers, not of her creators or what made the temple or none of that. She knew what her purpose was, what she would bring into the world. Her talon hands reached for her trident, aiding her while she ascended. Her lips remained silent as stood next to the stone for a moment, glancing at the divine message. [color=fff200][i][b]“Who Made Us?”[/b][/i][/color] Her eyes lingered towards the question before she moved past the crumbling throne, confessing her answer. [color=9e0b0f][b]“Conflict.” [/b][/color]
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	Outside, Adria spread her crimson wings knowing the true meaning behind it. With a single crack of her wings she hovered above glancing towards the world below her for a moment. Remembering each marking her siblings had weaved and created for their benefit or their indulgence. She glanced towards the trees that were here before the gods. Letting her hand touch the bark of any of the trees that their makers left behind. Until she found a clearing that seemed to echo tranquility. This would be the birthplace of her creation. 

	With her trident planted in the ground she gathered her own thoughts of creation in secret, or rather she hoped. Carefully from the priced ground from her trident, slithering vines begin to emerge. Their vines did not echo the same colors of bark or grass, instead it mimicked metals. Each one different, some were as slick as silver, bright like gold, dark like obsidian, yet what they share in common are the crimson razor thorns that laid across their body.  Either hiding among the grass or hanging around the trees, they were like stalwart defenders, ready to draw blood at a moment's notice.

	Adria glanced towards her creation, it was small but it was hers, something defensive but still echoed her name. She couldn’t help but smile, it was something unlike the images that flashed in her mind. Something that still holds beauty and not yet the horror of war. Her first mark, The Thornsteel vines, the first defenders of the forest. She smiled softly before she searched for other ideas that could help her expand her mark.
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[hider=Actions] Create flora life; The Thornsteel vines
Surrel: -2 convection 

The Thornsteel vines mimic the color of ores and stone while having the distinct colorization of red thorns. What makes the Thornsteel vines interesting is their ability to think, trapping anything that is caught in their thorns as they believe they are protecting certain areas of the forest. Kinda like the strangle vines in harry potter but much more proactive and deadly. [/hider]