Bitter. From her celestial perch, Adria watched her god-siblings cavort with mortals, and every shared word, every hollow laugh, stoked the embers of her disgust into a roaring flame. How could they be so ignorant, so cruel, so reckless? The world was a half-finished canvas, a flawed draft upon which each deity had scrawled their own selfish design. And then, to force life into this crumbling mess… No. Not just life, but sentience. They had unleashed conscious suffering upon a world that still demanded reforging, that needed to be drawn closer to perfection before it could sustain such a fragile creation. It should have been a unanimous decision, a sacred pact. Instead, it was a whim, enacted without discussion, without warning. It was simply done.

It was pointless to watch them chase their base urges. How could they understand? They saw only the perfection of their own creations, enthralled by the visions that mirrored their desires. Adria, however, was horrified by her own perfection. She saw the truth: a never-ending cycle of slaughter and screams, soon to be immortalized in ink and stone. This burden—the embodiment of consent, blood, war, and death—had been forced upon her by some unseen watcher. Was it pointless to fight the fog? To be a goddess who roared like a beast lusting for crimson wine, who found ecstasy only in the clash of steel and the cries of the dying? Should she become like them: powerful, uncaring, and selfish?

Her thoughts became a deafening storm. Her eyes bled into a dark, blood-red, her heavenly form sprouting fangs as her hair darkened like spilled blood. Suddenly, a soft cry echoed from the bundle sheltered by her crimson wings. Her divine form receded, the monstrous features melting away. Slowly, her wings unfolded to reveal a mortal babe fussing in her arms. A soft, genuine smile graced her lips as she held him closer, rocking him with a motherly tenderness that defied her very nature. “[color=9e0b0f]Don’t worry… I am here, little one,[/color]” she whispered, her voice a gentle breeze as she sat upon the earthy ground. She cupped the child’s cheek. “[color=9e0b0f]See? I am not leaving you.[/color]” The babe cooed and snuggled closer against the cold steel of her breastplate.

No. She would not become the monster the fog demanded. She would deny this blood-soaked dream.

Her mind drifted back, the babe’s cry pulling her into memory. She saw a mother, soaked in blood and cut to the bone, yet standing over the corpse of a single, massive wolf. Driven by pure instinct or adrenaline, the woman was barely alive, her only focus on weeping for her son. Adria had appeared before her, immediately falling to her knees to cup the woman’s cheek. The first noble sacrifice. A mother’s love.

“[color=9e0b0f]I am so sorry… This isn’t the world I wanted for you,[/color]” Adria had whispered, offering what little comfort she could. The woman, who had never seen a god before, flinched but did not flee. Adria, unlike her siblings, remained hidden, appearing only to those whose souls caught her eye.

“[color=9e0b0f]Your sacrifice will not be forgotten—[/color]”

Before she could finish, the mother slapped her hands away, using the last of her strength to shield her child. “[color=0076a3]Not… my… son…[/color]” she growled, a primal defiance in her eyes.

Adria stood in silent awe as her Thornsteel vines slowly rose around them, a vessel ready to be inspired. She met the woman’s gaze and nodded. “[color=9e0b0f]Your son will live. You have my word.[/color]” Her voice was still as gentle as her angelic form. The mother wept, giving her child one last, desperate kiss before her fading breath ghosted against Adria’s face. Then, she was gone. Adria was left alone with the weeping child. In the silence, her divine tears watered the ground, and from that sacred soil grew a quiet place of remembrance, enclosed by ruby thorns and veins of metal. Her talon-like claws, now gentle, reached out and took the babe.

Days later, she heard the mortals speak of the place—a sanctuary of protection and sacrifice, honoring a woman who gave everything.

Adria broke from her trance, caressing the baby’s face before rising to her feet. She glanced toward the distant mortals, her heart a soft, steady drum. With a careful hand, she wove the remaining fog into something for them. She sent a small inspiration to those who yearned to protect: a dream of heroes wielding shields and swords, standing against ravenous monsters. Perhaps, one day, they would learn to craft their own defenses, their own walls, to shield themselves from beasts and gods alike.

Her message delivered, she turned her back on the world and walked toward the forest, savoring this fleeting moment with the mortal child. As she moved deeper into the woods, she began to forge pathways for those who might one day seek her, laying the foundation for her fortress among the trees.

[hider=Actions]Adria using her knowledge of weapons, shields and armor, giving them the option to become heroes and other warrior.
-1 conviction for Hazy

Adria creates a fortress in the woods for her own little privacy but made pathways if the mortals wished to learn more from her.
-3 conviction surmountable [/hider]