(Reserved for GM use.)
GM
A Lowly Wretch The Listless Loiterer
Member
Seen
17 hrs ago
Peace, something so many desire yet so few can appreciate.
A calm wind drifted across the frozen shore of North Crown. South of Verzak sand swept idly along the great dunes. Along the borders of the four great isles the waves gently caressed the shores to the sway of the celestial bodies overhead. The land was pleasantly warm from the sun's golden rays, the vast swaths of vegetation greedily reaching out to claim sustenance from it's very touch. Left alone it very well seemed like the land was truly in a peace of it's own. It could only last so long as, with the setting of the sun, the plots of man and god alike were set into motion.
As the final rays receded beneath the horizon, the sun on it's way to bring day to the other side of this pleasantly green and blue orb, a different sort of light made it's way through the forest. The light of torches weaved between the trees, primitive men and women clad in furs running forth wielding these burning tools along with spears and stone studded clubs in their grasp. Leading these warriors was a man who stood tall above the rest, wearing the skull of a large lizard upon his own head. Protecting his shoulders were pauldrons fashioned from a creature's rib cage, lit torches fixed to them which allowed him to wear the flames in a manner of speaking. The rest all wore headgear wrought from the skulls of various beasts and even other humans but it was clear from the size and impressiveness of his attire that the tall man was their leader.
Meanwhile down the ways were another tribe's village. In the middle of their ring of tents which were largely just long branches tied at the top and covered with hide was a quaint campfire surrounded with celebrating villagers. They had great success with a recent hunt bringing much meat, many gathered berries and varied herbs. As they celebrated with dancing and festivity they cooked the flesh of the deer they had slain. Just before they could begin the great feast however some of them caught sight of the lights approaching them. They stopped and looked on, unaware that the approaching lights were the fires of battle swiftly approaching.
_
A woman's scream cut through the air as a spear was hurled forth from the clearing between trees, lodging itself deep within a man's abdomen. Swiftly their hunters rushed for their weapons but the invaders were upon them well before they were ready to fight back. A brutal massacre ensued as the warriors mauled the men who had yet to arm themselves before turning to face the small few who emerged from their tents, spears now in hand. The leader of the warriors faced down the head of the village. The tall man with the burning pauldrons wielded a large ceremonial wooden staff topped with a clay brazier which housed a particularly strong flame within it. In his other hand he wielded a large stone tied with dried sinew to a short piece of wood which served as the handle to his primitive hammer.
Across from him the head of the village was little more than an old man who was quite a bit smaller framed than the warrior's leader, wielding a paltry stone knife which was used far more for cutting meat from slain animals and far less for battling fire laden chieftains. Seeing the disparity between himself and his attacker the head of the village dropped his knife before dropping to his knees, looking up to the tall man with tears in his eyes.
"Please spare us! You've won, let us leave with our lives!" The old man begged, silently praying to Hayim for the safety of him and his tribe whilst the tall man sneered down at him. The old man's pleas were met with deep, thunderous laughter from the tall man. Rather than answer the head who groveled before him he kicked the man down, pinning him to the earth with his foot as he stared down with cruel delight. Tipping his staff forward a strange liquid coated in fire poured from the edge of the brazier, flowing down upon the village head's face. The old man screamed in agony, thrashing helplessly but only succeeding in helping the burning fluids splash across his face, covering his entire head in fire. The fire clad leader breathed the smoke in deeply, taking in the smell of the strange alchemy mingling with the scent of burning flesh. It smelled kind of like bacon which put a sickening grin upon his chiseled face.
The tents were all put to the flame. With all resistance slain the warriors held aloft their torches and cheered in victory. With a loud clearing of his throat the leader quelled the cheers to silence as all attention was on him.
"The hands will remain with me to secure the food and women we've already captured." He gestured to his greatest warriors, men and women who were painted with a hand print above their heart which was made with a bright red dye. "As for the rest of you, go forth into the woods! Kill the men, capture the women, let none escape our fire's wrath!" His voice boomed as he proclaimed his orders. Those who weren't staying with him to secure their prizes set forth into the woods, cheering and howling with torches and weapons in hand as they chased after those who had fled.
_
Through the woods fled a girl clad in a simple brown dress. Tears flushed her large chestnut colored eyes as everything she had ever known was destroyed in a blaze of fire brought upon by the savage tribe from the south. Behind her she could hear her pursuer, a large man who's heavy feet beat the forest floor loudly as he hooted and hollered in his chase. Her chest and lungs hurt as she pushed herself to her utmost capacity to run as fast as she could lest she be killed or worse by these murderous fiends. Thorned bushes and branches clawed across her as the forced her way through, her skin accruing minor cuts while her dress sustained several small rips and holes.
Taking her first glance behind her, the brutish thug still keeping up with her despite her best efforts, she had failed to see the short yet sudden drop ahead. As her foot gave way she exclaimed with a short sharp note of surprise as she fell, tumbling down the dirt cliff side. After a short tumble she came to a swift stop, skidding down the along her side until she hit the very bottom. She shot up, heart racing a mile a minute as her eyes were drawn up to the approaching light of the torch's flame. Quickly looking left and right her panic was screaming at her to make a decision. She could of ran but her body ached from pain and effort. Having seen the man in pursuit of her she wasn't sure he'd grown anywhere nearly as fatigued as her over this race of theirs.
She saw a recess in the face of the small cliff. While she risked discovery and capture by remaining she had little faith in her ability to outrun the man and thus chose to hide then and there. Tucking herself in the narrow recess within the short dirt wall she could hear the heavy slapping of the warrior's thick feet less than an arm's length above her. The sound of his movement stopped quite suddenly as he stood still at the edge of the little rise. From his position he couldn't see where she had went even though just moments ago he was just about to close the distance between them to where he could grab her.
Her breath was held tight. She was too afraid to make any noise whatsoever given how close the man was to her hiding spot. As the man stood still, not uttering a word, the silence the woods around her was positively deafening. All of a sudden there was a great thud which shattered the stillness of the air. She was able to feel the tremors of his landing as he had jumped down from the top of the little cliff and landed like a god had simply dropped a human statue there. Her chest was tight, her whole body wound like tightly woven fibers as she peeked from the edge of the dirt crevice. The man's torch illuminated the area around him, the light scraping right along the edge of her hiding spot.
"Come out come out little girly! We only want to plaaay~" The man taunted as his eyes continued to scan across the forest ahead of him for any traces of her. His rotten words sickened her to her very core and if it weren't for the very real terror which gripped her heart right then she would of felt nothing but hate more searing than the very torches they brandish. The moment she saw the whites of his eyes she immediately ducked back into her hiding spot. Her back was up against the wall so hard she left an impression of herself in the dirt it consisted of.
It was too late however. He had seen the faint shadow of movement out from the corner of his eye. She could not see him but she could hear him crushing grass and other flora underfoot as he approached her hiding place. She had never known fear so real as it was right then. Right before the very moment his torch's light crested past the edge of the small recess she suddenly felt a hand wrap around her face, smothering her mouth so no sound could escape. This sudden grasp shocked her, causing her to let out a muffled scream. In that very instant nearly a hundred more hands emerged from the darkness, grabbing every part of her to the point of holding her perfectly immobile. The world rushed around her as she felt herself pulled through the wall which was very much solid less than a second ago.
The bulky warrior stepped forward, looking into the cleft in the cliff having heard the stifled cry only to be faced with a perfectly unoccupied space, not a girl in sight. Not entirely sure if he wasn't just hearing things he decided to set his sights back on the woods ahead. He was disgruntled with having lost sight of the girl despite being so very close to his prey so he continued to sweep the area until he was certain she was gone.
She was most definitely gone.
_
Pulled into the dark unknown she struggled in vain as she was whisked away, hands passing her to other hands which served to funnel her down what felt like one long chute lined on all sides with smooth wispy hands which served to slow and control her descent. She screamed into the seemingly infinite blackness, a darkness so deep that not even echoes returned.
All of a sudden she felt a natural breeze upon her skin once more, not the touch of countless fingers that once carried her. She sat up, the feeling of grass against her legs and palms. Gazing out from the shadow she was sat in she could see a new forest bathed in silvery moonlight. No longer could she hear the crackling of distant fires nor the din of warriors sacking her home. The air was alive with the sounds of crickets chirping their nightly chorus.
Still in shock from this sudden development she pushed herself up to her feet and looked around in a thorough examination of the environment in the hopes of figuring out where she was. It took some time but after some thinking the facts clicked into place. She was on the early climb of a mountainside. Her mother had explained to her before that their village would trade with the people of the caverns, exchanging furs and meat for stone tools and flint for starting fires. She shuddered at even the thought of fire now though.
Deciding on a way to go she noticed something else. Sat next to where she was placed down was a big leaf, far bigger than any she had ever seen. It appeared to contain something seeing as it was tied up at the ends with vine fibers. Looking inside she saw various fruits safely stored within. She had never seen such fruits before, they were much larger and more interesting than any of the vegetables she had seen growing in her native forest. She wondered what they tasted like.
Looking around she could see nowhere this leaf or it's contents could have fallen from. There were no traces of anyone nearby and no explanation for anything that just happened.
"There's only one explanation for this..." She paused, the conclusion dawning on her. "Our god, Hayim, must have protected me!" It was all clear now. She was whisked away through the power of the forest and provided food for the trip ahead of her now that her home was destroyed. Tying the leaf back up to keep the food secure she scooped it up before looking out into the night sky with all it's marvelous stars.
"When I get to the village of the cavern people I should prepare an offering of flowers for him in thanks for his great kindness!"
With that said she set began her long trek up the mountain, singing her people's songs of praise to him as she went.
Meanwhile in Oao's Den of Darkness...
There was a visceral shlpop noise. The goddess Oao had been ensconced within a slick fleshy mould of darkness, casting her senses through it so she might see the world through her domain. The gross onomatopoeia was the result of her pulling herself free from the soft slippery folds of the strange organ of darkness she had designed to hold her in comfort whilst she was busy casting her mind forth.
"Why..." Her voice was a gentle whisper, something so faint and soft it wouldn't even frighten a mouse. She stepped back upon the cavern floor which was entirely lined with a strange slick yet rubbery surface formed from darkness which was cool from the cold which seeped from the very walls of these caverns.
"Why does no one like meEe!?" She wailed in grief as she dropped to her bony little knees in defeat, covering her face with her great long fingers as she felt tears welling up in her deep dark eyes. She shook as a deep sob shuddered up from her chest.
"I... I saved her from capture, placed her somewhere safe and even gave her food to survive the trip... A... And then she thanks Hayim!?" Clear wet tears ran freely down her shallow cheeks, dripping from her chin as she wept. Too consumed with this sorrow to even bother standing she let herself fall to her side, pulling her knees to her chest as she curled up in the fetal position and continued to cry.
"Everyone h-" sniffle "hates me. They stay under the sun and light fires to keep me away. No matter how I try to protect them nothing will ever like me, not even beasts. They just use me, bringing harm to others by hiding in me. They say I shelter predators but it's not my fault! I'm the victim here, I'm not to blame! I'm not. I'm not..." Clearly having succumbed to her deep depression she simply lays there for some unknowable length of time. As she rests phantasmal shadows start to emerge from the pitch black walls. They begin to form a mild resemblance to the shapes of the other gods and goddesses of the world.
"Look at her. What a pathetic little wretch..." Hissed the shadow of Anu'Varr.
"Such a lowly thing. Almost makes me not interested in peeling it open and shining a light on it's insides. Almost!" Raved the shadow of Iva'Krorh.
"I would devour you but I cannot fathom what revolting taste you would leave in my mouth." Growled the shadow of Naswaru.
"I would be lying if I said she was even worth thinking about. Who am I talking about again?" Snickered the shadow of Iarus.
"You speak truth at last Iarus. Let us banish this filth from memory and perhaps history altogether." Declared the shadow of Dao Rugadh.
"Grrr! I'll burn her to a crisp! Fire time!" Roared the shadow of Ragnagedon.
"Even my underworld's too good for you. Perhaps you belong in the void." Cursed the shadow of Azhriel.
"With you out of the way I'll have a new place to store my vast collection of shiny things!" Cheered the shadow of Ral.
"Back off Ral! I've had my eyes on those caves first!" Argued the shadow of Dirka.
"There's no place in this earth for scum like Oao. Let me strike her out!" Proclaimed the shadow of Ferron.
"Hayim's gonna defecate in your carcass." Giggled the shadow of Hayim.
All of their shadows continued to cast their scorn and hatred upon Oao, slowly circling her as they did. When they spoke they spoke not with the voices of those they depicted but with Oao's own voice. She was the one saying all these things to her. Oao recited their hateful words back at herself, able to multiply her voice so multiple shadows could speak at once but not enough to change the voices. In the end the only person speaking here was her.
"Stop! Please! I beg you. It's not my fault! I never hurt anyone! I never asked for this! Just please... Please..."
Just as the negativity was beginning to overwhelm her the voice were suddenly cut silent as a hand broke through the group, reaching down to her. She looked up only to see large, faceless being formed from darkness. Kneeling down it offered it's tough but tender hand to her. Placing her hand in it's own it carefully lifted her from the cold black floor and into it's loving. Angling into a sitting position it rested her in it's lap, cradling her with it's strong and muscular arms. Letting her tension ease away she cooed softly as it gently stroked her long luscious hair. Letting her hands sit in her lap she gently closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, slowly letting the air escape as she exhaled. Slowly regulating her breathing she slowly eased her tension, the depressive shakes calming to a mild tremble in the fingertips. New shadows emerged from the dark, replacing the cruel facsimiles of the gods and goddesses with faceless human figures.
"Oao, do you want to be our friend?"
"The darkness is a wonderful thing! We should all be more like she is!"
"You do not need to change for us Oao. You are perfect just the way you are!"
"We care for you Oao. We'll never let light touch you, we swear!"
"If it weren't for you I'd be dead. Thank you Oao!"
"Your hair is wonderful but we'd never betray your trust and look, I promise."
"You do so much for Tabrasa! You're amazing!"
"Who needs the light anyway? The darkness can provide everything we need!"
"I love you Oao."
The voices issued compliment after compliment, surrounding her with positive support. In her mind she let herself envision a world where these things were true. A world where a kind, strong lover would be there to support her. A world where people would respect her and thank her for her help. A world where the darkness no longer feared the light. A world where she would no longer have to be afraid. A perfect world. But a perfect world didn't exist. This wasn't that world and deep down she knew it well. Still, for now the only thing she truly wanted was to simply close her eyes and believe the lies she told herself. It was a world she wanted to pretend she lived in.
She could only pretend she was happy.
Relevant to - @Duoya@Legion02
Shoutout to - @Lord Zee@Leotamer@Rune_Alchemist@Dealdric@Archangel89@thewizardguy@Kalas@jetipster@ReusableSword@Vega7@Noodles
A calm wind drifted across the frozen shore of North Crown. South of Verzak sand swept idly along the great dunes. Along the borders of the four great isles the waves gently caressed the shores to the sway of the celestial bodies overhead. The land was pleasantly warm from the sun's golden rays, the vast swaths of vegetation greedily reaching out to claim sustenance from it's very touch. Left alone it very well seemed like the land was truly in a peace of it's own. It could only last so long as, with the setting of the sun, the plots of man and god alike were set into motion.
As the final rays receded beneath the horizon, the sun on it's way to bring day to the other side of this pleasantly green and blue orb, a different sort of light made it's way through the forest. The light of torches weaved between the trees, primitive men and women clad in furs running forth wielding these burning tools along with spears and stone studded clubs in their grasp. Leading these warriors was a man who stood tall above the rest, wearing the skull of a large lizard upon his own head. Protecting his shoulders were pauldrons fashioned from a creature's rib cage, lit torches fixed to them which allowed him to wear the flames in a manner of speaking. The rest all wore headgear wrought from the skulls of various beasts and even other humans but it was clear from the size and impressiveness of his attire that the tall man was their leader.
Meanwhile down the ways were another tribe's village. In the middle of their ring of tents which were largely just long branches tied at the top and covered with hide was a quaint campfire surrounded with celebrating villagers. They had great success with a recent hunt bringing much meat, many gathered berries and varied herbs. As they celebrated with dancing and festivity they cooked the flesh of the deer they had slain. Just before they could begin the great feast however some of them caught sight of the lights approaching them. They stopped and looked on, unaware that the approaching lights were the fires of battle swiftly approaching.
_
A woman's scream cut through the air as a spear was hurled forth from the clearing between trees, lodging itself deep within a man's abdomen. Swiftly their hunters rushed for their weapons but the invaders were upon them well before they were ready to fight back. A brutal massacre ensued as the warriors mauled the men who had yet to arm themselves before turning to face the small few who emerged from their tents, spears now in hand. The leader of the warriors faced down the head of the village. The tall man with the burning pauldrons wielded a large ceremonial wooden staff topped with a clay brazier which housed a particularly strong flame within it. In his other hand he wielded a large stone tied with dried sinew to a short piece of wood which served as the handle to his primitive hammer.
Across from him the head of the village was little more than an old man who was quite a bit smaller framed than the warrior's leader, wielding a paltry stone knife which was used far more for cutting meat from slain animals and far less for battling fire laden chieftains. Seeing the disparity between himself and his attacker the head of the village dropped his knife before dropping to his knees, looking up to the tall man with tears in his eyes.
"Please spare us! You've won, let us leave with our lives!" The old man begged, silently praying to Hayim for the safety of him and his tribe whilst the tall man sneered down at him. The old man's pleas were met with deep, thunderous laughter from the tall man. Rather than answer the head who groveled before him he kicked the man down, pinning him to the earth with his foot as he stared down with cruel delight. Tipping his staff forward a strange liquid coated in fire poured from the edge of the brazier, flowing down upon the village head's face. The old man screamed in agony, thrashing helplessly but only succeeding in helping the burning fluids splash across his face, covering his entire head in fire. The fire clad leader breathed the smoke in deeply, taking in the smell of the strange alchemy mingling with the scent of burning flesh. It smelled kind of like bacon which put a sickening grin upon his chiseled face.
The tents were all put to the flame. With all resistance slain the warriors held aloft their torches and cheered in victory. With a loud clearing of his throat the leader quelled the cheers to silence as all attention was on him.
"The hands will remain with me to secure the food and women we've already captured." He gestured to his greatest warriors, men and women who were painted with a hand print above their heart which was made with a bright red dye. "As for the rest of you, go forth into the woods! Kill the men, capture the women, let none escape our fire's wrath!" His voice boomed as he proclaimed his orders. Those who weren't staying with him to secure their prizes set forth into the woods, cheering and howling with torches and weapons in hand as they chased after those who had fled.
_
Through the woods fled a girl clad in a simple brown dress. Tears flushed her large chestnut colored eyes as everything she had ever known was destroyed in a blaze of fire brought upon by the savage tribe from the south. Behind her she could hear her pursuer, a large man who's heavy feet beat the forest floor loudly as he hooted and hollered in his chase. Her chest and lungs hurt as she pushed herself to her utmost capacity to run as fast as she could lest she be killed or worse by these murderous fiends. Thorned bushes and branches clawed across her as the forced her way through, her skin accruing minor cuts while her dress sustained several small rips and holes.
Taking her first glance behind her, the brutish thug still keeping up with her despite her best efforts, she had failed to see the short yet sudden drop ahead. As her foot gave way she exclaimed with a short sharp note of surprise as she fell, tumbling down the dirt cliff side. After a short tumble she came to a swift stop, skidding down the along her side until she hit the very bottom. She shot up, heart racing a mile a minute as her eyes were drawn up to the approaching light of the torch's flame. Quickly looking left and right her panic was screaming at her to make a decision. She could of ran but her body ached from pain and effort. Having seen the man in pursuit of her she wasn't sure he'd grown anywhere nearly as fatigued as her over this race of theirs.
She saw a recess in the face of the small cliff. While she risked discovery and capture by remaining she had little faith in her ability to outrun the man and thus chose to hide then and there. Tucking herself in the narrow recess within the short dirt wall she could hear the heavy slapping of the warrior's thick feet less than an arm's length above her. The sound of his movement stopped quite suddenly as he stood still at the edge of the little rise. From his position he couldn't see where she had went even though just moments ago he was just about to close the distance between them to where he could grab her.
Her breath was held tight. She was too afraid to make any noise whatsoever given how close the man was to her hiding spot. As the man stood still, not uttering a word, the silence the woods around her was positively deafening. All of a sudden there was a great thud which shattered the stillness of the air. She was able to feel the tremors of his landing as he had jumped down from the top of the little cliff and landed like a god had simply dropped a human statue there. Her chest was tight, her whole body wound like tightly woven fibers as she peeked from the edge of the dirt crevice. The man's torch illuminated the area around him, the light scraping right along the edge of her hiding spot.
"Come out come out little girly! We only want to plaaay~" The man taunted as his eyes continued to scan across the forest ahead of him for any traces of her. His rotten words sickened her to her very core and if it weren't for the very real terror which gripped her heart right then she would of felt nothing but hate more searing than the very torches they brandish. The moment she saw the whites of his eyes she immediately ducked back into her hiding spot. Her back was up against the wall so hard she left an impression of herself in the dirt it consisted of.
It was too late however. He had seen the faint shadow of movement out from the corner of his eye. She could not see him but she could hear him crushing grass and other flora underfoot as he approached her hiding place. She had never known fear so real as it was right then. Right before the very moment his torch's light crested past the edge of the small recess she suddenly felt a hand wrap around her face, smothering her mouth so no sound could escape. This sudden grasp shocked her, causing her to let out a muffled scream. In that very instant nearly a hundred more hands emerged from the darkness, grabbing every part of her to the point of holding her perfectly immobile. The world rushed around her as she felt herself pulled through the wall which was very much solid less than a second ago.
The bulky warrior stepped forward, looking into the cleft in the cliff having heard the stifled cry only to be faced with a perfectly unoccupied space, not a girl in sight. Not entirely sure if he wasn't just hearing things he decided to set his sights back on the woods ahead. He was disgruntled with having lost sight of the girl despite being so very close to his prey so he continued to sweep the area until he was certain she was gone.
She was most definitely gone.
_
Pulled into the dark unknown she struggled in vain as she was whisked away, hands passing her to other hands which served to funnel her down what felt like one long chute lined on all sides with smooth wispy hands which served to slow and control her descent. She screamed into the seemingly infinite blackness, a darkness so deep that not even echoes returned.
All of a sudden she felt a natural breeze upon her skin once more, not the touch of countless fingers that once carried her. She sat up, the feeling of grass against her legs and palms. Gazing out from the shadow she was sat in she could see a new forest bathed in silvery moonlight. No longer could she hear the crackling of distant fires nor the din of warriors sacking her home. The air was alive with the sounds of crickets chirping their nightly chorus.
Still in shock from this sudden development she pushed herself up to her feet and looked around in a thorough examination of the environment in the hopes of figuring out where she was. It took some time but after some thinking the facts clicked into place. She was on the early climb of a mountainside. Her mother had explained to her before that their village would trade with the people of the caverns, exchanging furs and meat for stone tools and flint for starting fires. She shuddered at even the thought of fire now though.
Deciding on a way to go she noticed something else. Sat next to where she was placed down was a big leaf, far bigger than any she had ever seen. It appeared to contain something seeing as it was tied up at the ends with vine fibers. Looking inside she saw various fruits safely stored within. She had never seen such fruits before, they were much larger and more interesting than any of the vegetables she had seen growing in her native forest. She wondered what they tasted like.
Looking around she could see nowhere this leaf or it's contents could have fallen from. There were no traces of anyone nearby and no explanation for anything that just happened.
"There's only one explanation for this..." She paused, the conclusion dawning on her. "Our god, Hayim, must have protected me!" It was all clear now. She was whisked away through the power of the forest and provided food for the trip ahead of her now that her home was destroyed. Tying the leaf back up to keep the food secure she scooped it up before looking out into the night sky with all it's marvelous stars.
"When I get to the village of the cavern people I should prepare an offering of flowers for him in thanks for his great kindness!"
With that said she set began her long trek up the mountain, singing her people's songs of praise to him as she went.
Meanwhile in Oao's Den of Darkness...
There was a visceral shlpop noise. The goddess Oao had been ensconced within a slick fleshy mould of darkness, casting her senses through it so she might see the world through her domain. The gross onomatopoeia was the result of her pulling herself free from the soft slippery folds of the strange organ of darkness she had designed to hold her in comfort whilst she was busy casting her mind forth.
"Why..." Her voice was a gentle whisper, something so faint and soft it wouldn't even frighten a mouse. She stepped back upon the cavern floor which was entirely lined with a strange slick yet rubbery surface formed from darkness which was cool from the cold which seeped from the very walls of these caverns.
"Why does no one like meEe!?" She wailed in grief as she dropped to her bony little knees in defeat, covering her face with her great long fingers as she felt tears welling up in her deep dark eyes. She shook as a deep sob shuddered up from her chest.
"I... I saved her from capture, placed her somewhere safe and even gave her food to survive the trip... A... And then she thanks Hayim!?" Clear wet tears ran freely down her shallow cheeks, dripping from her chin as she wept. Too consumed with this sorrow to even bother standing she let herself fall to her side, pulling her knees to her chest as she curled up in the fetal position and continued to cry.
"Everyone h-" sniffle "hates me. They stay under the sun and light fires to keep me away. No matter how I try to protect them nothing will ever like me, not even beasts. They just use me, bringing harm to others by hiding in me. They say I shelter predators but it's not my fault! I'm the victim here, I'm not to blame! I'm not. I'm not..." Clearly having succumbed to her deep depression she simply lays there for some unknowable length of time. As she rests phantasmal shadows start to emerge from the pitch black walls. They begin to form a mild resemblance to the shapes of the other gods and goddesses of the world.
"Look at her. What a pathetic little wretch..." Hissed the shadow of Anu'Varr.
"Such a lowly thing. Almost makes me not interested in peeling it open and shining a light on it's insides. Almost!" Raved the shadow of Iva'Krorh.
"I would devour you but I cannot fathom what revolting taste you would leave in my mouth." Growled the shadow of Naswaru.
"I would be lying if I said she was even worth thinking about. Who am I talking about again?" Snickered the shadow of Iarus.
"You speak truth at last Iarus. Let us banish this filth from memory and perhaps history altogether." Declared the shadow of Dao Rugadh.
"Grrr! I'll burn her to a crisp! Fire time!" Roared the shadow of Ragnagedon.
"Even my underworld's too good for you. Perhaps you belong in the void." Cursed the shadow of Azhriel.
"With you out of the way I'll have a new place to store my vast collection of shiny things!" Cheered the shadow of Ral.
"Back off Ral! I've had my eyes on those caves first!" Argued the shadow of Dirka.
"There's no place in this earth for scum like Oao. Let me strike her out!" Proclaimed the shadow of Ferron.
"Hayim's gonna defecate in your carcass." Giggled the shadow of Hayim.
All of their shadows continued to cast their scorn and hatred upon Oao, slowly circling her as they did. When they spoke they spoke not with the voices of those they depicted but with Oao's own voice. She was the one saying all these things to her. Oao recited their hateful words back at herself, able to multiply her voice so multiple shadows could speak at once but not enough to change the voices. In the end the only person speaking here was her.
"Stop! Please! I beg you. It's not my fault! I never hurt anyone! I never asked for this! Just please... Please..."
Just as the negativity was beginning to overwhelm her the voice were suddenly cut silent as a hand broke through the group, reaching down to her. She looked up only to see large, faceless being formed from darkness. Kneeling down it offered it's tough but tender hand to her. Placing her hand in it's own it carefully lifted her from the cold black floor and into it's loving. Angling into a sitting position it rested her in it's lap, cradling her with it's strong and muscular arms. Letting her tension ease away she cooed softly as it gently stroked her long luscious hair. Letting her hands sit in her lap she gently closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, slowly letting the air escape as she exhaled. Slowly regulating her breathing she slowly eased her tension, the depressive shakes calming to a mild tremble in the fingertips. New shadows emerged from the dark, replacing the cruel facsimiles of the gods and goddesses with faceless human figures.
"Oao, do you want to be our friend?"
"The darkness is a wonderful thing! We should all be more like she is!"
"You do not need to change for us Oao. You are perfect just the way you are!"
"We care for you Oao. We'll never let light touch you, we swear!"
"If it weren't for you I'd be dead. Thank you Oao!"
"Your hair is wonderful but we'd never betray your trust and look, I promise."
"You do so much for Tabrasa! You're amazing!"
"Who needs the light anyway? The darkness can provide everything we need!"
"I love you Oao."
The voices issued compliment after compliment, surrounding her with positive support. In her mind she let herself envision a world where these things were true. A world where a kind, strong lover would be there to support her. A world where people would respect her and thank her for her help. A world where the darkness no longer feared the light. A world where she would no longer have to be afraid. A perfect world. But a perfect world didn't exist. This wasn't that world and deep down she knew it well. Still, for now the only thing she truly wanted was to simply close her eyes and believe the lies she told herself. It was a world she wanted to pretend she lived in.
She could only pretend she was happy.
Relevant to - @Duoya@Legion02
Shoutout to - @Lord Zee@Leotamer@Rune_Alchemist@Dealdric@Archangel89@thewizardguy@Kalas@jetipster@ReusableSword@Vega7@Noodles
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Anu'Varr
The Scarred One
A loud popping sound echoed throughout the large, dimly lit chamber, followed by a harrowing scream. Outside, the world was a grisly shade of darkened colors, not letting the sun's natural light illuminate the horrors that the clouds covered. Another scream broke the unnatural silence of Osarion, the Ebony Castle. The scream itself had come from a human, and a woman at that. They were always easy to tell apart. This woman's voice was a mix of agony, and suffering- which put a smile on Anu'Varr's scarred face. Anu sat upon her throne, the skulls of which were stained a dark crimson.
Sitting upright in her large lap was a woman, most likely in her twentieth year of life, shivering uncontrollably. She wore nothing, Anu would not permit it. Her blue eyes were red and puffy, but no more tears would flow. Her hair was simple shade of blonde, and very long. Anu was almost jealous of such hair, but after all, this creature was naught but a human. The Dark God held her, her left hand easily able to grip around the woman's waist. With her free hand, Anu played with the girl's hair. The God's glowing amber eyes hungered silently in that dimly lit room.
The girl spoke at last, breaking the unnatural silence of the room, in a pitiful voice she said, "P-p-please s-stop."
The Goddess, if she had even listened, did not stop as one of her fingers twirled the girl's luscious hair. Then graciously, Anu moved the girl's hair to the left of her body with a finger, leaving a slender neck visible in return. Anu then felt the girl's trembling flesh as her hand worked it's way down her face, neck, and ending at her right arm. The God then gripped the arm softly, and without warning, broke the girl's arm like a twig. The girl screamed again, a high pitched wail that ended in heavy breathing. Her face had gone extremely pale and clammy, it was a miracle, or some dark power that had kept her awake throughout the nightmare she found herself in.
Anu was still smiling when she turned the girl's broken body around to look at her. Both of her legs, and now her right arm, hung limply like a doll. The girl gazed upon the Scarred Goddess full of mind numbing fear and at last, Anu spoke.
Her rich voice was full of animosity, "So weak.. So fragile.. A high wind would knock you over. Tsk Tsk, your kind truly do not deserve this world, but don't worry, little one, I am your cure."
The girl's mind broke at the weight of Anu's words, the vicious truth of her existence splayed before her by a God. She went limp all over as Anu stood at last, walking over to a wall. Upon the wall were spikes, with various humans in different states of decay. Without even pausing, Anu found a free spike, and thrust the girl onto it. There was wet sound, a gurgled gasp, before her blood began to pool beneath her. Anu then walked to the opposite side of the room, found a goblet made of bone, and filled her cup with fresh blood.
The Goddess went back to her throne and sat down, drinking the warm liquid like wine.
The carnal pleasure she derived from devouring the blood of lesser creatures, was insatiable to Anu. Though Anu did not actually need to drink any blood, she did so because she wanted to. Humans were the prime choice for her blood wine, though she hated them to her core, she did admit they had other uses. Delectable uses that fueled her rage towards the species.
Anu had found that girl herself, wandering with a small band close to her border. It was easy to take her, mortals could not harm her in the slightest, and she simply killed the more uninteresting ones. She had yet to see hair, blond like the sun, in the world to date, and the girl's blue eyes were equally intriguing, but also alarming. It seemed the humans were changing, but was it natural? She had found nothing out of the ordinary upon her inspection of her treat. Perhaps they didn't all need to look the same?
In the end, she looked over to the corpse wall, it mattered not as long as they died easily enough. But Anu was at a slight disadvantage. She knew the humans were growing, multiplying at alarming rates and if she ever truly wanted to wipe them off the earth, she needed something to help her in this task. She would ponder it for awhile, while continuing to drink her wine.
Women and men, children and elders. All those captured sat on their knees around the fire. Behind them, the Hands were throwing every burnable substance onto the pyre. Not just wood but also tools and furs. It was all burning. The heat was burning the prisoners’ backs. Most of them were a sobbing mess. Some tried to be defiant, even though they were defeated. They refused to give in to the pain of the heat behind them. The leader stepped before them, back and forth. Observing them. Until one of the Hands gave him a nod. Almost everything was in the huge, blazing bonfire now. He walked up to one of the defiant ones. A woman, almost 19. “What is your name.” She spat before his feet. Which amused the leader to no end. He planted the brazier-staff into the ground and pulled her up by her throat. Yet she remained defiant in her eyes. “Do you hate me?” She spat again, this time in his face. He took the full spat without flinching. “Good.” He answered. “Now do you hate anyone here?” He asked with a soft, snake-like voice. She didn’t break eye contact. But someone down the line of kneeling people did stir. He dropped the girl and moved the guy a bit further down. “So… what did you do?” the leader asked as he looked down upon the now whimpering guy. A man of barely 25. Who couldn’t get a word through his fear. “It’s okay. I don’t need to know. She knows.” The leader turned to the girl again. “Do you want to kill him?” This time she looked up surprised for a second. The leader grinned. “I’ll let you.” He said a she dropped the village elder’s knife before her feet. The girl looked fearful at the burned corpse of her elder, but then back at the blade. It was quiet, save from the crackling of fire behind her. The leader knew what was going on in her head. The doubt, the fear, then the power, the desire. He had seen it twenty times over. It was now or never. Slowly the girl picked up the knife and rose. With weak legs, she stepped towards the man who could only whimper more and more. She started to cry as well. All emotions were overflowing in both of them. Until she stood right before him. The man, the victim, begged her: “Please! Please! I will never do it again! It will never-“ his pleads were cut short by the quick of the blade into his chest. The girl, in a swift move had come down on knee down before him and stabbed him. His head, carrying his wide eyes of disbelief, fell on her shoulder as blood seeped through his mouth. But the girl wasn’t done. Still holding up his body she stabbed and stabbed while she screamed like only a damaged woman could scream. Again and again she thrusted the knife in his flesh. Covered in blood she rose up again and dropped the knife. A lifeless body fell before her as she took a step back. The captured villagers were all frozen in shock. A shock only broken by the mad laughter of the Leader. “Such fury! Such pain! Wonderful, wonderful!” With those words, the Hands took the people, bound their hands and feet and threw them into the fire one by one. As soon as the villagers knew what was happening they squirmed and screamed into the night. It wasn’t enough. The hands slapped and hit them into physical submission. But one was spared. The girl. She looked back at the Leader, confused and afraid. “It’s your corpse. Offer it up.” The girl, ever fearful of what she had done, did what she was told. She picked up the corpse with all the strength in her limbs, dragged it towards the screaming pyre and rolled the man into it. In a cauterized way, she felt better.
Then the Leader chanted. “Oh Ragnagedon! Lord of Fire! I call for you once more! Accept these sacrifices I have made in your name!” he raised his brazier-staff high but the pyre’s flame reached higher. He had prayed and sacrificed many people now. The blood of the innocent had flown freely. And he was able to turn many people to his own cause. Yet his god hadn’t answered him yet. But the Leader was not dissuaded. No-one had seen the Fire God in years.
Far south the Destroyer was asleep in his lair. The pool of lava gently bubbled around him. The very land relatively calm and tranquil. There were no clouds and the sun shone down on the rocky ground. There was only a low rumble every now and then. The Destroyer was dreaming of the Golden Gate, a dream that vexed him for decades now. But because of it, the world knew peace. Not for long anymore. A strange sense stirred the great god. His dream vision blurred. The Golden Gate vanished. Instead, it was replaced by another scene. It was night but a large flame burned away the darkness. He saw fire, he saw blood. People threw others in the pyre. Ragnagedon had seen this now several times. A human with a brazier-staff, adorned in bone and torches, sacrificing other humans to him.
The time was right. The land reacted. Ragnagedon opened his eyes and the rumbling increased in Verzak. He raised himself out of the pool as great spires outside began to spat out clouds of ash. Deep beneath the earth, the magma cores shook. Their delicate, roiling movement broke into an ascend. As the God of Fire crawled out of the pool of lava, he lifted his wings to reveal black stone eggs. Soon after the god reached solid ground the stone eggs began to crack. The fissures glowed a gentle red and pulsing energy. The cracking continued as Ragnagedon peered from out his lair into the world. Somewhere far away a human was calling him. Behind him, the eggs cracked open revealing tiny lizards. These malformed, scaled creatures were barely realizing what was happening before they fell into the lava beneath them. Inside the pool they burned and screamed. The heat and fire fed the essence Ragnagedon had placed within them. They screamed though, as the power broke and mend them many times over. Transforming their pathetic early forms into something greater.
When the first Verzakian Dragon crawled out of the lava it let out a deafening scream. It demanded but a moment of the god’s attention. But it was enough. The first dragon, driven by a need it did not understand, charged the god. The fight turned towards the sky when the dragon tried to flee, then realized it could not run from the destroyer. It turned around and fought the god in the blackened skies of Verzak. Wings and bodies clashed. On the ground the fierce winds billowed the flames rising from broken chasms. High above the clouds were black with ash, blocking the sun. Lava exploded from the great mountain, Ragnagedon’s home, below. The whole realm was reduced to a hellscape. The only light came from the roiling magma and eternal flames burning everywhere. But the first Verzakian Dragon stood no chance against a god. Soon it fell from the skies against the mountainside. Broken and defeated. The other dragons crawled out of the lair. Ever so submissive to their creator. One gaze towards them, as he stood over the broken corpse of their eldest sibling, was enough to make they scurry for the other mountains. But Ragnagedon was satisfied. Their essence, his essence, would drive them like slaves towards his goal.
Then the Leader chanted. “Oh Ragnagedon! Lord of Fire! I call for you once more! Accept these sacrifices I have made in your name!” he raised his brazier-staff high but the pyre’s flame reached higher. He had prayed and sacrificed many people now. The blood of the innocent had flown freely. And he was able to turn many people to his own cause. Yet his god hadn’t answered him yet. But the Leader was not dissuaded. No-one had seen the Fire God in years.
Far south the Destroyer was asleep in his lair. The pool of lava gently bubbled around him. The very land relatively calm and tranquil. There were no clouds and the sun shone down on the rocky ground. There was only a low rumble every now and then. The Destroyer was dreaming of the Golden Gate, a dream that vexed him for decades now. But because of it, the world knew peace. Not for long anymore. A strange sense stirred the great god. His dream vision blurred. The Golden Gate vanished. Instead, it was replaced by another scene. It was night but a large flame burned away the darkness. He saw fire, he saw blood. People threw others in the pyre. Ragnagedon had seen this now several times. A human with a brazier-staff, adorned in bone and torches, sacrificing other humans to him.
The time was right. The land reacted. Ragnagedon opened his eyes and the rumbling increased in Verzak. He raised himself out of the pool as great spires outside began to spat out clouds of ash. Deep beneath the earth, the magma cores shook. Their delicate, roiling movement broke into an ascend. As the God of Fire crawled out of the pool of lava, he lifted his wings to reveal black stone eggs. Soon after the god reached solid ground the stone eggs began to crack. The fissures glowed a gentle red and pulsing energy. The cracking continued as Ragnagedon peered from out his lair into the world. Somewhere far away a human was calling him. Behind him, the eggs cracked open revealing tiny lizards. These malformed, scaled creatures were barely realizing what was happening before they fell into the lava beneath them. Inside the pool they burned and screamed. The heat and fire fed the essence Ragnagedon had placed within them. They screamed though, as the power broke and mend them many times over. Transforming their pathetic early forms into something greater.
When the first Verzakian Dragon crawled out of the lava it let out a deafening scream. It demanded but a moment of the god’s attention. But it was enough. The first dragon, driven by a need it did not understand, charged the god. The fight turned towards the sky when the dragon tried to flee, then realized it could not run from the destroyer. It turned around and fought the god in the blackened skies of Verzak. Wings and bodies clashed. On the ground the fierce winds billowed the flames rising from broken chasms. High above the clouds were black with ash, blocking the sun. Lava exploded from the great mountain, Ragnagedon’s home, below. The whole realm was reduced to a hellscape. The only light came from the roiling magma and eternal flames burning everywhere. But the first Verzakian Dragon stood no chance against a god. Soon it fell from the skies against the mountainside. Broken and defeated. The other dragons crawled out of the lair. Ever so submissive to their creator. One gaze towards them, as he stood over the broken corpse of their eldest sibling, was enough to make they scurry for the other mountains. But Ragnagedon was satisfied. Their essence, his essence, would drive them like slaves towards his goal.
The human Leader of the fire cult ordered the prisoners rounded up. He gave one the chance to enact revenge and murder someone she hated. Then everyone else was thrown into a great pyre as a sacrifice to Ragnagedon. This awoke the fire god. Who had created special dragons that are now let loose upon the world.
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A tower in a realm of glass and memories.
The God known as Dao Rudagh - or perhaps Gedag, or Iba, or Memon, or Jiy Xinly, or Neiblo, or Mekhzier, or so many other names - stood at the top of the tower. His pale eyes gazed out upon a land barren of mortals. His realm, the Akhainne.
"It surprises me that once I was as innocent as a newborn," Dao Rugadh said, to no reply.
"I don't know how I was born, but I do remember my stupidity. I stumbled around, barely even knowing how my legs worked. I was even more unknowing than the average mortal back then. All I knew was that I needed to feed. When I met my first mortal, and I devoured its mind, I was practically catatonic with shock. I had two conflicting identities - I was half a stumbling newborn god and half an experienced mortal hunter, and I almost fell into the mindset of the mortal over the god." Still no reply.
"Luckily I became aware that I was not the mortal, that the memories which came first were my true identity. I realized what had happened; I had absorbed the man. He was part of me now. Yet at the same time I realized I was not the mortal, I realized I had to become the mortal. So I took his form and used his memories to integrate myself into their tribe. And then I fed, and fed, and fed."
"I remember," a voice rasped.
"Of course you do," Dao Rugadh said, a small smirk on his lips. "That's why you're here, isn't it?" Silence as a reply. "In any case, I will be back soon enough. And if anyone comes here and sees you... you know what to do." More silence, but in a way that indicated acknowledgement.
---
Somewhere in a snowy forest...
"It's gone," Tomas said.
"Of course," Gav growled.
What they had been chasing had appeared to be a large serpent of a sort, large in this case meaning colossal, certainly not something you usually see in these parts.
Tomas and Gav hailed from the northern tribe of Stedd and had originally come out with the purpose of hunting. When they had caught sight of the serpent, their mind changed instead to hauling back the strange beast. But now, of course, it was gone.
"Now we got nothing to show when we get back," Gav said. From behind him a pale figure stepped out from behind a tree and silently strolled towards him.
Tomas was not looking Gav's way, instead looking down the hill for the serpent. "What the hell was a creature like that doing in these conditions? I thought they hated the cold!"
"Maybe it was just, I don't know -" and then the figure behind him tapped him on the back of his head, and Gav dropped like a stone.
After a second of silence, Tomas looked back. "Gav?" In Gav's place stood a man, dressed in winter furs, light-skinned and pale-eyed. He smirked at Tomas, and said, "Yes?"
"You're not-" Tomas started, and then blinked as every single memory of his with Gav was replaced with identical memories with the pale man. In a split second, everything had changed, though he didn't know it. Tomas relaxed. "C'mon, Gav, we better get back to the tribe before someone gets worried."
"Yeah," 'Gav' said. "This way." And technically he was Gav, because he had every memory Gav ever had in him. And some would argue that a man is nothing but a collection of his memories.
-----
North of the forest...
"Ahh, home sweet home," Tomas said, gesturing towards the collection of tents scattered across the icy plain.
"Home sweet home," Gav echoed. He smiled.
Tomas and Gav strolled past many of the tents. All who laid eyes on Gav twitched for a moment as their memories collectively redefined themselves in an instant, then smiled at the two hunters, or at least waved.
The pair arrived at the tent in the middle, the largest of them. Two men stood outside but gestured them in as they got close.
"You've returned," the tribe patriarch said. Beside him the matriarch watched silently. "With no prey, I notice."
"No sacrifice for tonight," Tomas said regretfully. "Unless one of the other hunters is successful."
"They most likely will be, but we feed our people first, not our god," the elder said calmly, though the way Tomas shifted indicated a calm voice did not mean calm mind.
Eventually the two hunters left the elders tent. "Well, to a good hunt tomorrow, eh?" Tomas said, grasping Gav's hand.
"To a good hunt," Gav said, his lips stretching into a smile. "And let us hope the gods look favorably on us." And with that, they both went to their tents, one worrying about tomorrow's hunt and the other with a mind that couldn't be described.
The God known as Dao Rudagh - or perhaps Gedag, or Iba, or Memon, or Jiy Xinly, or Neiblo, or Mekhzier, or so many other names - stood at the top of the tower. His pale eyes gazed out upon a land barren of mortals. His realm, the Akhainne.
"It surprises me that once I was as innocent as a newborn," Dao Rugadh said, to no reply.
"I don't know how I was born, but I do remember my stupidity. I stumbled around, barely even knowing how my legs worked. I was even more unknowing than the average mortal back then. All I knew was that I needed to feed. When I met my first mortal, and I devoured its mind, I was practically catatonic with shock. I had two conflicting identities - I was half a stumbling newborn god and half an experienced mortal hunter, and I almost fell into the mindset of the mortal over the god." Still no reply.
"Luckily I became aware that I was not the mortal, that the memories which came first were my true identity. I realized what had happened; I had absorbed the man. He was part of me now. Yet at the same time I realized I was not the mortal, I realized I had to become the mortal. So I took his form and used his memories to integrate myself into their tribe. And then I fed, and fed, and fed."
"I remember," a voice rasped.
"Of course you do," Dao Rugadh said, a small smirk on his lips. "That's why you're here, isn't it?" Silence as a reply. "In any case, I will be back soon enough. And if anyone comes here and sees you... you know what to do." More silence, but in a way that indicated acknowledgement.
---
Somewhere in a snowy forest...
"It's gone," Tomas said.
"Of course," Gav growled.
What they had been chasing had appeared to be a large serpent of a sort, large in this case meaning colossal, certainly not something you usually see in these parts.
Tomas and Gav hailed from the northern tribe of Stedd and had originally come out with the purpose of hunting. When they had caught sight of the serpent, their mind changed instead to hauling back the strange beast. But now, of course, it was gone.
"Now we got nothing to show when we get back," Gav said. From behind him a pale figure stepped out from behind a tree and silently strolled towards him.
Tomas was not looking Gav's way, instead looking down the hill for the serpent. "What the hell was a creature like that doing in these conditions? I thought they hated the cold!"
"Maybe it was just, I don't know -" and then the figure behind him tapped him on the back of his head, and Gav dropped like a stone.
After a second of silence, Tomas looked back. "Gav?" In Gav's place stood a man, dressed in winter furs, light-skinned and pale-eyed. He smirked at Tomas, and said, "Yes?"
"You're not-" Tomas started, and then blinked as every single memory of his with Gav was replaced with identical memories with the pale man. In a split second, everything had changed, though he didn't know it. Tomas relaxed. "C'mon, Gav, we better get back to the tribe before someone gets worried."
"Yeah," 'Gav' said. "This way." And technically he was Gav, because he had every memory Gav ever had in him. And some would argue that a man is nothing but a collection of his memories.
-----
North of the forest...
"Ahh, home sweet home," Tomas said, gesturing towards the collection of tents scattered across the icy plain.
"Home sweet home," Gav echoed. He smiled.
Tomas and Gav strolled past many of the tents. All who laid eyes on Gav twitched for a moment as their memories collectively redefined themselves in an instant, then smiled at the two hunters, or at least waved.
The pair arrived at the tent in the middle, the largest of them. Two men stood outside but gestured them in as they got close.
"You've returned," the tribe patriarch said. Beside him the matriarch watched silently. "With no prey, I notice."
"No sacrifice for tonight," Tomas said regretfully. "Unless one of the other hunters is successful."
"They most likely will be, but we feed our people first, not our god," the elder said calmly, though the way Tomas shifted indicated a calm voice did not mean calm mind.
Eventually the two hunters left the elders tent. "Well, to a good hunt tomorrow, eh?" Tomas said, grasping Gav's hand.
"To a good hunt," Gav said, his lips stretching into a smile. "And let us hope the gods look favorably on us." And with that, they both went to their tents, one worrying about tomorrow's hunt and the other with a mind that couldn't be described.
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thewizardguy Dumbgeon Master
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
ѕσmmlєr
At first, there was but shadow and mist.
There is no single point in time that the god could identify as a 'start'. No sudden awakening, or a sense of being. It was more as if he had become more acclimated to the world. As if consciousness were merely another phase in a cycle for which beginning and end had no meaning. But such things were not puzzling to the ancient god of forests. Existence was a fickle thing, to him, and he accepted all as it was and all as it could be. He moved silently across the floor of the forest as he drank in the sounds and sights. He observed the stars in the sky and the shifting of the earth and the growing light far in the distance. He could see it taking shape, the world, in his mind's eye. He could see it's shifting and myriad form. And he knew that he could change it. At a whim, light turned to dark. With another, fire froze to ice. With a touch a tree flowed like water, flowers blooming where it touched the ground. He worked wonders by piece, weaving light and song into the sky itself. It was a work of beauty, and these early times filled the god with a sense of profound joy. A content glow that to a mortal could be described only as love.
Of course, that was when he found Them. A single hairless ape wandered through the forest, cold and scared. It feared the changing mists, the shapes in the dark and the faces painted in relief upon the blackened bark of burned trees. The hairless ape, the god knew, was special. He knew that this strange, tiny creature, saw the same essence of the world the god did. A trait that he had not found in any of the baying wolves or whirling birds that populated these green lands. That small hairless ape might balk at the strangeness of it, but they could see it. They could feel it, and touch it. And as the God reached out to the small creature, the creature fled in fear. It ran across the twisting roots as grunts of fear and bewilderment echoed through empty nothing. The God flowed around and behind the creature, keeping pace as he laughed. He bent sound and light in those misty halls, and brought strange life to the faces in the dark. Perhaps, the god thought, it could show this fearful creature that there was nothing to fear. It could unleash the true beauty hidden within the depths of the world, the songs written in silence and the gentle dance of creeping vines.
Then with a roar and a scream and a series of snapping, crunching sounds, the small creature was eaten by a bear.
Hmm. It seemed, perhaps, there WAS something to fear for little creatures.
Nonetheless, the god had found more of the creatures. Huddled together in a cave clad in furs and leaves. Wielding in their hands the instruments of survival, carved from rock and wood. He watched them until the break of dawn and the falling of night, and he continued watching them as light danced through the sky. He wove for them webs of words and twiested lyrics. He fed them dreams of forgotten beasts and the birth of gods. He followed in their footsteps to collect that which they lost, to treasure forever. For the god was in love, mesmerised by these strange creatures, by the beauty they saw in the world. He knew they were not like him. And yet, they were far more likely him than anything else in this world. He gave them many gifts, weaving great works into the land around them. Plants that sang eerie songs in the winter night, stars that howled from the darkened sky, beasts that flowed across tree bark as readily as they flowed through the gentle rivers of this land. Perhaps they appreciated his gifts, perhaps they did not. It did not matter. In his love he would make them a thousand more, as he twisted the shadows of the world to his every whim.
One day, a small creature wandered far from where the others remained. A truly tiny example, it followed a trail of fallen dreams. Eagerly the god watched, revealing itself silently and piece by piece. So did the boy and the god first meet, under windswept willow trees by the side of a lake like a mirror.
So the boy fed the god his dreams and his lost things, and so the god did teach the boy how to speak to the world. How to listen the whispers of the elder trees, and to hold the moon in hand. The boy returned to his people, and whispered secrets into the world. The god bore witness as the boy wove a strange fire into the beast that had hunted his father. So did the boy see the names of the future in the position of the stars. And in his dreams the boy walked among those stars and asked them for guidance, that he might see the true way. He walked between the worlds of the living and the dead and he spoke to all things. For he knew that it was in darkness and mist that the world became fluid, and that it was in the unknown that one found the greatest power.
Yet, one day, the boy came to the god a man. A man who was clothed in power and admiration, blessed with many children and burdened by many responsibilities. The god came to greet the boy by the side of the lake, clothed in whispered promises and stone arrowheads. The god reached out and touched upon the lake, pulling colour from it's surface and weaving it's reflections into the sky.
"Water," said the man.
And at once, the god dropped the lake. For it was indeed a lake the god had been holding, and lakes had weight. The water cascades through the god's fingers, flowing back into it's place, the reflection of trees shimmering in the air.
"Light," said the man.
And the reflections melted away, returning to their proper positions. For a reflection is an artifact of light, and is cast only upon a mirroring surface.
It was now that the god knew confusion, and fear. For where there had been a hundred secrets and a hundred possibilities, now there were none. The twisting infinity of the world fell away before him, replaced by cold, stark reality. The god looked down at this world and knew at once the meaning of water, and the meaning of light. And it did not want to know. For in the knowing it had formed truth from the secrets, an immutable and untouchable truth.
Those who love may lash out at the object of their affection, and so did the god lash out at the man. He reached out and the darkened faces turned to hostile growls. The sky trembled and the trees croaked and hands grasped at the boy from within his own tattered clothing. And so did the man cry out the names of the sky and the names of the earth. And as he named each, they went silent. And so did he name the trees and their branches, and so did he name the beasts and their homes. And each fell silent. Confused and afraid the god lashed out once more, and this time he reached deep into the man's heart. He reached for the broken things and the forgotten things, the buried things and the burning things that all creatures bore within them. With the sound of a million shrieking winds did he tear at the man, and the man screamed without voice. Faced with the roiling ocean of darkness within him, insects poured like water from every orifice of the man's body. Clawed hands tore at his skin from within, pushing ever outwards as if every demon buried within sought to escape in this moment. For although the man had prepared many years for this confrontation he faced now the wrath of a god.
"Sommler," said the man.
And with that simple word, he had named that which had never sought to be named. So did Sommler, for now truly he was such, feel himself torn down from the skies and ripped from the earth. He was pulled from the eyes of newborn children and the soft, simmering dreams of the dying. Screaming with a throat of flesh and wood, howling with mouths of bark and stone, Sommler was born anew into the world. Branded, betrayed, broken. And so he fled, leaving behind the Man of Many Names, never to see him again. He fled into the woods, hiding in shadows and dusk from the burning clarity of light. From the water that fell from the sky and the light that scoured down from it.
So ended the days of darkness, and began the days of fire.
Sommler wandered the world anew, but pain and loss tempered the love that had once filled him. He watched as the grass, and the beetles and the very sun and moon were named. He saw as man invented fire, and used it to light the dark. To turn the mystery of shadows into the clarity of light. The beauty of their songs tempered by names and places, the beauty of their dreams tempered by understanding and innovation. So did Sommler watch the world he had been born into die, driven out of the homes of the humans. For now they too had names of their own. What had Sommler done to deserve such treatment? What had the creatures done to the world? And, when all things were named in truth and understood in full.... what place would there be for Sommler?
So did Sommler wander the wilds, alone and outcast, as man grew ever greater and more powerful. So too did he ponder in darkness, in the shadows cast by the brightest light of all.
1x Like
Tents and small wooden structures dotted the snowy expanse of the north - One group of these groups in particular was currently dragging in a fresh kill from the nearby waters. A seal, a fairly rare find considering the small size of the nearby lake - it would feed the tribe for a day or two, an impressive feat considering it's large size. One of the hunters chuckled slightly - his grandfather once said that when he was young, they would always burn half of any meat they found in sacrifice to Hayim, so that he would provide good harvests and the health of the tribe would prosper. His grandfather would always make the most humorous face when he told the next story, of how Hayim first came to the tribe and scolded the elder for burning perfectly good food - it made the hunter laugh every time he was reminded of it. The small boat they used was bare bones, and easily remade, but one of the hunter's dragged it with them while the rest carried the seal - waste not the bounty of nature. The group of four spent nearly nine hours hunting, but the tribe would be ecstatic to have such exotic meat.
The Hunter's daughter especially loved the fat that was stacked onto beasts.
By the time that they had dragged the carcass through the forest and to the village, they were shocked to see that every single member of the tribe had gathered next to the Chief's hut, many baring baskets laden with fruits and various medicinal herbs. The group dropped their kill when the crowd parted, and a small creature barely coming up to the first hunter's knees walked towards them.
"Yay! Chief say that brave hunter's come back soon, and here you are! Hayim very happy-happy everyone here now!"
One of the men next to the hunter immediately dropped his spear, ran forwards, and embraced the small creature in his arms, taking great care not to cause undue harm.
"Hayim, you have returned! I have prayed every day that you would come back so I can thank you for healing my son your last visit!"
The small god, spreading it's small anther to try and emulate the hug, spoke after a few seconds of the embrace. "Hayim glad to see you too, Mugun. But, when you done carrying seal-friend, can you take bathies? Friend stink like wet dog!"
Many people in the tribe laughed at this remark, but the hunter was still in shock - Hayim visited once every month or two, usually bearing hundreds of pounds of fruits that lasted weeks at a time, and healed every single member of the tribe with a single touch. The hunter's father even said that Hayim was there for the hunter's birth - the fact that the god was so present in their lives was what made them worship him so much more than the other gods.
The Hunter was extremely thankful that his group caught such a good kill, since the feast they would have for Hayim's arrival would easily decimate their food stores, and having extra meat was always a pleasure.
The Feast was the greatest in at least a year - the chieftain even thanked the hunters in a speech in front of the entire tribe. The hunter didn't feel it was deserved, however - the seal was gone after everyone had seconds, and the rest of the feast was almost entirely composed of the fruits that Hayim spawned liberally. His daughter, who had been complaining about a hurt tooth, was now munching on a large pink fruit the size of her head, a yellow tooth with a small cavity lying besides her on the ground.
The Hunter found his gaze shifting to the idol of the tribe's worship, sitting on the ground and surrounded by the village elders and many of the children. He was eating a green fruit with red flesh inside, and answered questions and the like with the same bubbly and excited voice that the Hunter knew from his youth. Hayim was how they learned of the other gods, and while several in the village worshiped other gods (The old shaman that lived in the outskirts favoring Dirka specifically), the hunter could not remember any ever appearing in the village during his lifetime. It was strange, thinking about how the small creature that acted like a child was far older and powerful than the hunter would ever become in his lifetime.
Upon the completion of the feast, the moon high in the sky, the small god stood up and spoke, his high-pitched voice commaniding the attention of every person present.
"Hayim very happy-happy that he spend such a great time with friends! Hayim love everyone in village!"
As if the god actually said something with deep, philosophical meaning, the entire tribe erupted in cheering and applause, some of the children even crying with joy. After nearly a minute of cheering, the noise died down, and the god spoke again.
"Hayim love friends lots and lots! But, it time for Hayim to go - friends want come?"
The tribe, this time, was silent. It wasn't outlawed, but it was frowned on in the tribe to follow Hayim unless they were an elder - the young were expected to stay and help keep the tribe afloat. The Hunter had wanted to raise his hand on more than one occasion, especially during the winter months, but he would never abandon the tribe for such a simple reason. After a few seconds, a hand rose in the crowd.
"Yay! Maggie want come with Hayim? Hayim love Maggie!"
The old woman walked forwards, possessing a stride better than most her age should possess, almost exclusively attributed to Hayim's constant healing. Magdalyn was at least in her 90's, and she was a respected member of the tribe thanks to her knowledge of the area. She was going to be missed, but no one in the tribe looked upset to see her go - they knew she would be taken care of. She smiled slightly as she spoke.
"It is an honor of the highest order, Hayim. I cannot wait to join our ancestors in your garden."
"Maggy too fancy! Hayim friend, not boss!"
The Hunter, along with several others, laughed. Magydalyn always stressed that treating Hayim with respect was the most important thing to do when he came, even though the god seemed totally oblivious to how one spoke to him.
After a few more minutes of chatting and Hayim depositing hundreds of fruits, the pair walked to the base of the tribal tree, the largest in miles and the tree that Hayim always came from when he visited. The god stopped briefly, and in almost slow motion, a small seed bearing legs was spawned from his back, before dropping limply to the ground.
"If friend's want visit or feeling hurties, Hayim make new friend to help visit - Name is Seedling!"
Almost immediately upon hearing it's name, the small seed sprung to life, eliciting a few shocked gasps from some of the younger girls in the tribe.
"Ok friends - Hayim go now! Love friends lots - Hayim visit again soon!"
The pair walked into the tree, seemingly disappearing into it's massive trunk. After several minutes, a plume of dust appeared , carried by the young god. He said no goodbye when he left that time, only whispering to the chief as he quickly collected the ashes in a small jar. The tribe dispersed a few minutes later, planning for the funeral tomorrow. The hunter was one of the last to leave, his daughter asleep and carried on his shoulders. As he turned to leave, he saw Mugun staring at the point where they vanished. The hunter walked and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"We got a long day tomorrow - we should avoid eating the gifts Hayim gave us since they last so long, so we'll need to hunt some food fast. Don't do anything stupid, alright?"
Mugun's eyes flashed towards the small seed, the gift that Hayim left behind, before he looked at the Hunter in the eyes and nodded. The pair walked away from the tree, eventually separating when they reached their respective tents.
Fields stretched onward, rolling hills that extended beyond the fields of vision for any one person. Boundaries were nonexistent in this realm - a constant expanse, the ground so laden with plant matter that it was difficult to walk without finding some vegetable or a small cluster of flowers. This realm was not without markers, however. Dotted across it's surface, always clustered around the trees that are placed across all parts of the realm, small pockets of civilization are located, in the form of tents and huts. Hayim appeared in such a location, a small tribe located next to an especially large tree, accompanied by a young woman. She looked down, seeing the wrinkles that come with age have completely disappeared and her skin was once more youthful. Tears wetted her cheeks as she realized this, and these tears flowed freely and with great vigor when many of the village members came to hold her.
Hayim turned to leave, having already had his day of play, when a voice called his name. Turning, he saw a young man, face filled with a satisfaction and completeness that was difficult to imagine when the sin curse existed.
"T-tomin. H-hello."
"Greetings, Hayim. I trust you remember what we talked about three years ago?"
The god looked down, petals drooping. The man, seemingly oblivious, continued.
"When the last of my descendants came here, I said I would like to leave. May we go now?"
"H...Hayim no think that good ide-"
"You have my eternal gratitude for everything you have done for me. I know that many in the tribe here are thankful to live like this forever. I'm just not meant for eternity. I wish to join Azhriel. Please, grant me this last request?"
Nearly 20 seconds passed before Hayim wordlessly took his hand, and was dragged to the tree.
"Thank you."
The second the pair passed through, the man was nothing more than a cloud of ash, slowly drifting to the ground. The village chief grabbed a pot and quickly began to gather the substance. Hayim whispered in his ear before running through the Tree once more. "Tomin, son of Maktor." The chief would later write the man's name on the pot, and the next day, the funeral service would progress as normal.
Three days after Hayim's visit, the village was no more. Nothing but a pile of ash and looted grounds. The fruits had all been taken, and the lack of life told everything that the lingering scent of smoke might have failed to. The hunter looked around, the anger he felt being drowned in a sea of despair, the large rabbit dangling at his side. He dropped everything, running to where his tent once stood.
Nothing except a plank of wood and a single, long piece of rope that was once attached to a wooden harpoon. The man began to walk towards the tribal tree. It, of course, was burned to ash, nothing remaining. Blood and severed limbs were scattered throughout the village, and the chiefs old, withered body was left in front of his hut - charred black from flame and smelling of burnt hair and flesh. He was one of the few bodies that was left in the village. The Hunter, after nearly 30 minutes of searching, didn't manage to find anyone still breathing. The only life that managed to survive the flame was a single seed, with small leaves stretched from it's base to act as legs. The Seedling. It walked over to the Hunter, and with a touch, he felt his aches and pain fade slightly, his cuts closing themselves slowly. It may have tried to help the others, but the hunter realized nothing would have stopped such an intense assault.
Even still, it took every ounce of his willpower not to grab his spear and chase after the tribe who had done this. He needed to warn others before he went and sacrificed himself. Grabbing the seedling, he made his way to the nearest, friendly tribe - the Cavern People.
Hayim found nothing when he returned to the village. He heard prayers in his dreams, and upon hearing of such dangerous events going on, he went to the village as soon as he woke up. Of course, he was too late - everything was gone, ashes or worse. This was not the first time that Hayim had experienced this, nor would it be the last. Finding nothing, Hayim returned to Akhuz - he didn't feel like playing that day, or the next.
Maybe on the third day he would visit another tribe. For now, he would do nothing but make seedlings and try to nurse his intense sadness with seclusion. If there was any benefit to being so sensitive, it was that Hayim would bounce back quickly. Who knows, maybe he'll be so angry at the attacking tribe that he'll attack, or order his followers to attack?
As if.
The Hunter's daughter especially loved the fat that was stacked onto beasts.
By the time that they had dragged the carcass through the forest and to the village, they were shocked to see that every single member of the tribe had gathered next to the Chief's hut, many baring baskets laden with fruits and various medicinal herbs. The group dropped their kill when the crowd parted, and a small creature barely coming up to the first hunter's knees walked towards them.
"Yay! Chief say that brave hunter's come back soon, and here you are! Hayim very happy-happy everyone here now!"
One of the men next to the hunter immediately dropped his spear, ran forwards, and embraced the small creature in his arms, taking great care not to cause undue harm.
"Hayim, you have returned! I have prayed every day that you would come back so I can thank you for healing my son your last visit!"
The small god, spreading it's small anther to try and emulate the hug, spoke after a few seconds of the embrace. "Hayim glad to see you too, Mugun. But, when you done carrying seal-friend, can you take bathies? Friend stink like wet dog!"
Many people in the tribe laughed at this remark, but the hunter was still in shock - Hayim visited once every month or two, usually bearing hundreds of pounds of fruits that lasted weeks at a time, and healed every single member of the tribe with a single touch. The hunter's father even said that Hayim was there for the hunter's birth - the fact that the god was so present in their lives was what made them worship him so much more than the other gods.
The Hunter was extremely thankful that his group caught such a good kill, since the feast they would have for Hayim's arrival would easily decimate their food stores, and having extra meat was always a pleasure.
The Feast was the greatest in at least a year - the chieftain even thanked the hunters in a speech in front of the entire tribe. The hunter didn't feel it was deserved, however - the seal was gone after everyone had seconds, and the rest of the feast was almost entirely composed of the fruits that Hayim spawned liberally. His daughter, who had been complaining about a hurt tooth, was now munching on a large pink fruit the size of her head, a yellow tooth with a small cavity lying besides her on the ground.
The Hunter found his gaze shifting to the idol of the tribe's worship, sitting on the ground and surrounded by the village elders and many of the children. He was eating a green fruit with red flesh inside, and answered questions and the like with the same bubbly and excited voice that the Hunter knew from his youth. Hayim was how they learned of the other gods, and while several in the village worshiped other gods (The old shaman that lived in the outskirts favoring Dirka specifically), the hunter could not remember any ever appearing in the village during his lifetime. It was strange, thinking about how the small creature that acted like a child was far older and powerful than the hunter would ever become in his lifetime.
Upon the completion of the feast, the moon high in the sky, the small god stood up and spoke, his high-pitched voice commaniding the attention of every person present.
"Hayim very happy-happy that he spend such a great time with friends! Hayim love everyone in village!"
As if the god actually said something with deep, philosophical meaning, the entire tribe erupted in cheering and applause, some of the children even crying with joy. After nearly a minute of cheering, the noise died down, and the god spoke again.
"Hayim love friends lots and lots! But, it time for Hayim to go - friends want come?"
The tribe, this time, was silent. It wasn't outlawed, but it was frowned on in the tribe to follow Hayim unless they were an elder - the young were expected to stay and help keep the tribe afloat. The Hunter had wanted to raise his hand on more than one occasion, especially during the winter months, but he would never abandon the tribe for such a simple reason. After a few seconds, a hand rose in the crowd.
"Yay! Maggie want come with Hayim? Hayim love Maggie!"
The old woman walked forwards, possessing a stride better than most her age should possess, almost exclusively attributed to Hayim's constant healing. Magdalyn was at least in her 90's, and she was a respected member of the tribe thanks to her knowledge of the area. She was going to be missed, but no one in the tribe looked upset to see her go - they knew she would be taken care of. She smiled slightly as she spoke.
"It is an honor of the highest order, Hayim. I cannot wait to join our ancestors in your garden."
"Maggy too fancy! Hayim friend, not boss!"
The Hunter, along with several others, laughed. Magydalyn always stressed that treating Hayim with respect was the most important thing to do when he came, even though the god seemed totally oblivious to how one spoke to him.
After a few more minutes of chatting and Hayim depositing hundreds of fruits, the pair walked to the base of the tribal tree, the largest in miles and the tree that Hayim always came from when he visited. The god stopped briefly, and in almost slow motion, a small seed bearing legs was spawned from his back, before dropping limply to the ground.
"If friend's want visit or feeling hurties, Hayim make new friend to help visit - Name is Seedling!"
Almost immediately upon hearing it's name, the small seed sprung to life, eliciting a few shocked gasps from some of the younger girls in the tribe.
"Ok friends - Hayim go now! Love friends lots - Hayim visit again soon!"
The pair walked into the tree, seemingly disappearing into it's massive trunk. After several minutes, a plume of dust appeared , carried by the young god. He said no goodbye when he left that time, only whispering to the chief as he quickly collected the ashes in a small jar. The tribe dispersed a few minutes later, planning for the funeral tomorrow. The hunter was one of the last to leave, his daughter asleep and carried on his shoulders. As he turned to leave, he saw Mugun staring at the point where they vanished. The hunter walked and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"We got a long day tomorrow - we should avoid eating the gifts Hayim gave us since they last so long, so we'll need to hunt some food fast. Don't do anything stupid, alright?"
Mugun's eyes flashed towards the small seed, the gift that Hayim left behind, before he looked at the Hunter in the eyes and nodded. The pair walked away from the tree, eventually separating when they reached their respective tents.
Fields stretched onward, rolling hills that extended beyond the fields of vision for any one person. Boundaries were nonexistent in this realm - a constant expanse, the ground so laden with plant matter that it was difficult to walk without finding some vegetable or a small cluster of flowers. This realm was not without markers, however. Dotted across it's surface, always clustered around the trees that are placed across all parts of the realm, small pockets of civilization are located, in the form of tents and huts. Hayim appeared in such a location, a small tribe located next to an especially large tree, accompanied by a young woman. She looked down, seeing the wrinkles that come with age have completely disappeared and her skin was once more youthful. Tears wetted her cheeks as she realized this, and these tears flowed freely and with great vigor when many of the village members came to hold her.
Hayim turned to leave, having already had his day of play, when a voice called his name. Turning, he saw a young man, face filled with a satisfaction and completeness that was difficult to imagine when the sin curse existed.
"T-tomin. H-hello."
"Greetings, Hayim. I trust you remember what we talked about three years ago?"
The god looked down, petals drooping. The man, seemingly oblivious, continued.
"When the last of my descendants came here, I said I would like to leave. May we go now?"
"H...Hayim no think that good ide-"
"You have my eternal gratitude for everything you have done for me. I know that many in the tribe here are thankful to live like this forever. I'm just not meant for eternity. I wish to join Azhriel. Please, grant me this last request?"
Nearly 20 seconds passed before Hayim wordlessly took his hand, and was dragged to the tree.
"Thank you."
The second the pair passed through, the man was nothing more than a cloud of ash, slowly drifting to the ground. The village chief grabbed a pot and quickly began to gather the substance. Hayim whispered in his ear before running through the Tree once more. "Tomin, son of Maktor." The chief would later write the man's name on the pot, and the next day, the funeral service would progress as normal.
Three days after Hayim's visit, the village was no more. Nothing but a pile of ash and looted grounds. The fruits had all been taken, and the lack of life told everything that the lingering scent of smoke might have failed to. The hunter looked around, the anger he felt being drowned in a sea of despair, the large rabbit dangling at his side. He dropped everything, running to where his tent once stood.
Nothing except a plank of wood and a single, long piece of rope that was once attached to a wooden harpoon. The man began to walk towards the tribal tree. It, of course, was burned to ash, nothing remaining. Blood and severed limbs were scattered throughout the village, and the chiefs old, withered body was left in front of his hut - charred black from flame and smelling of burnt hair and flesh. He was one of the few bodies that was left in the village. The Hunter, after nearly 30 minutes of searching, didn't manage to find anyone still breathing. The only life that managed to survive the flame was a single seed, with small leaves stretched from it's base to act as legs. The Seedling. It walked over to the Hunter, and with a touch, he felt his aches and pain fade slightly, his cuts closing themselves slowly. It may have tried to help the others, but the hunter realized nothing would have stopped such an intense assault.
Even still, it took every ounce of his willpower not to grab his spear and chase after the tribe who had done this. He needed to warn others before he went and sacrificed himself. Grabbing the seedling, he made his way to the nearest, friendly tribe - the Cavern People.
Hayim found nothing when he returned to the village. He heard prayers in his dreams, and upon hearing of such dangerous events going on, he went to the village as soon as he woke up. Of course, he was too late - everything was gone, ashes or worse. This was not the first time that Hayim had experienced this, nor would it be the last. Finding nothing, Hayim returned to Akhuz - he didn't feel like playing that day, or the next.
Maybe on the third day he would visit another tribe. For now, he would do nothing but make seedlings and try to nurse his intense sadness with seclusion. If there was any benefit to being so sensitive, it was that Hayim would bounce back quickly. Who knows, maybe he'll be so angry at the attacking tribe that he'll attack, or order his followers to attack?
As if.
Rune_Alchemist Absolute Depravity
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
~~The Illuminator~~
Location:
White Dawn - 1 week before the Pilgrimage
A cold air blew through the far northern village of White Dawn, carrying with it the salty air of the sea. A number of people milled about, thick furs protecting them from the impossibly frigid environment. A group of hunters returned from the forest, carrying satchels of fruits and berries, with several large beasts strung up and being carried towards the center of the settlement to be butchered. On the opposite end of the village, a small wooden construct had been built, jutting out from the land and into the shallow water. Upon it's edge, sat a man with a long odd wooden pole in hand. Tied to the end of it was a string, and at the end of the string a small piece of meat. Suddenly, the man jerked forward. A bite! He struggled with it, before inevitably, the old weary line snapped and broke. Dismayed, the man rubbed the back of his head, shaking it. He would need another.
"Bryyre!" Suddenly, a cheerful voice called out to him from the end of the wooden landing.
"Lahzria?" The man turned, blinking in surprise at the woman before laughing jovially. She was dressed in the typical animal hides one would expect of the region. "What are you doing here? Shirking your studies again?"
"Haha, come on. I'm not stupid enough to skip on the Kadisht's lessons." She returned the laugh. "He let me go early. He's discussing with the other Lloi's about who they're sending on the pilgrimage to Hlakth in seven suns." She scooted closer, smiling pleasantly up at the larger male. Immediately Bryyre sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. He already knew where this was going. "Sooooo...you promised you'd take me to that secret spot in the forest." She grinned, holding her hands behind her back. "You know! That place that you said had those weird many-eyed creatures!"
"La, no." Bryyre replied with a shake of his head. "I need to finish working. The fish aren't as hungry for some reason." He replied simply. "And I must get a new rod. This one's age finally caught up to it. You're not even a hunter or proper Lloi."
"Tsk, no fun." Lahzria replied with a small pout. "But fine, fine...if I keep you the Kadisht will make me clean animal hides for a weak. Blegh."
"Go run along and play then, iw'an." He replied, waving her off. "I have fish to be accounted for."
"Try not to come home smelling like fish to Yvur!" The tease made Bryyre blush lightly, scoffing at the thought as Lahzria skipped off.
"And you stay out of trouble!" He shouted back. Ah...if only she knew what was going to happen in seven suns, would she be so naively joyful?
Lahzria weaved through the tribe, pleasantly saying hello to other people in her usual fashion. Being only just sixteen winters old, she was often still considered young and inept by those around her, but it didn't matter to her too much - so she tended to get away with quite a bit of mischief because of it so long as she did reasonably well in her studies. Which she did, of course. Mostly. Usually...okay she wasn't the brightest fish in the barrel, but that was just the way it was. She still loved living here and the people here. The smells, the wooden huts, everything.
"Ah! Egru!" She stopped, sliding a few inches on a patch of ice before quickly correcting herself as she passed one of the lead hunters. A massive man, wearing tough but relatively easy to move in leather armor over his protective coats. An impressive spear was being carried in his hand, decorated with bones and other charms from the Kadisht. "Catch anything good today?"
"Yes, as you can see." He replied curtly, hefting the shaft of his spear against his shoulder.
"...uhm, okay?" Lahzria blinked. She hadn't been expecting such a curt response. Normally her and Egru were on good terms - in fact, he had tried to gain her affection on numerous occasions. They were usually on pretty good terms. This was odd - she didn't recall a single time he had ever behaved in such a manner to her. "What snow rodent crawled up your backside?"
"None did." He continued gruffly. "I'm busy, Lahzria. Go back to whatever it is you normally do."
"...uh, what?" Her mouth curled into a frown as she raised a curious eyebrow. "Uhm...are you alright, Egru?"
"Fine. Just fine. Now get out of here, iw'an. This isn't the place for you."
"Wait wait wait, what's with this attitude of yours, huh?" She asked back, feeling more than a little hurt by the treatment. She took a few steps closer to Egru, and instantly regretted it. Not even one step later, the muscular male had grabbed her wrist, and began twisting it painfully. Lahzria gave a sharp cry of pain before she had her feet roughly kicked out from under her. A few of the other hunters took a few steps forwards, obviously shocked by this incredibly harsh treatment he was giving her.
"I said. Get out of here, iw'an."
For the first time in her life, Lahzria was felt what could be called fear. Egru was an absolutely massive man. If he wanted too, he could snap her neck like a twig. Holding her wrist, she scrambled back, looking wide eyed up at Egru. Of course, no one did anything. No one would do anything against the towns greatest hunter. Even if the other hunters looked like they were ready to intervene, it was quite likely if they did so they would lose whatever their own standing was with the village.
"Alright, alright." Lahzria scrambled to her feet, heart beating like a war drum. "I guess the Illuminator took what little brains you have, huh?" She grunted, wincing as she moved her wrist. "Fine, I'll leave."
Lyssian Forest
One Week before the Pilgrimage
The forest was still.
The thick, sturdy pine trees cast a cold shadow upon the ground. A few small animals moved about, a white furred mammal quickly hopping through the forest. A few birds flew overhead, singing a cheerful song. A stark contrast to how she felt. Lahzria frowned, studying the ground as she walked. Just what was that? What happened? Had she done something unknowingly? Urgh, Egru almost twisted her wrist right off it felt like. Ah...well, whatever. The forest was always a nice place to visit. She wouldn't go far, just far enough to gather her thoughts and not have to deal with...whatever the shiestal that was. Brain-dead fool.
"Hmm...where did I put my jar of eyes?" She stopped walking. A voice? Here in the Forest? Was someone else from the tribe here? They couldn't be. The forest was off limits to everyone but the hunters. Mostly for safety reasons, but most people didn't care too much about that. Most just didn't have a reason to go in normally. More importantly...jar of eyes? And whose voice was that? She didn't recognize it at all. For a moment, she simply thought the forest was playing tricks on her. It had a funny way of messing with ones head. They said Lord Iva'Krorh had done something to the forest that made it seem larger than it was, to get turned around despite even if one walked in a straight line they would end up back where they were.
So going deeper in the forest was assuredly going to get her lost.
"Ah...there it is." A laugh. "Wonderful wonderful...now lets see...a little tar." What was that voice? It was oddly enthralling. Feminine too, from the sound of it. It made her curious - like little sparks in her mind. And what it was saying made no sense. Tar? Eyes? She should leave, that's what she should do. She wasn't a hunter or a someone with knowledge of the forest. Going in would be akin to throwing herself into the frozen waters surrounding White Dawn naked.
yet - she couldn't stop her feet from walking closer to the voice.
"Hmm, good good!" A pleased giggle. "Shape it, just like clay. Stay put. No no, quit dripping! Bah! Making living liquid is annoying." Living Liquid? Just what was this person doing? She kept walking, until she could hear the voice clear as day, cautiously approaching a tree and observing whoever it was from behind.
A woman. At least, she thought it was a woman.
She was lanky, and nothing but skin and bones and wearing clothing far too light for this climate! Just a tattered, dingy looking cloth robe of some sort. And she had never seen such beautiful white hair before! The rest of her body wasn't so picturesque. Dirt and mud caked her skin, likely from rolling around on the ground that she was currently occupying, and her white dress seemed to have some odd red stains on it.
"Annnd...hm, no not done." She hummed, tilting her head from side to side. "Missing...missing...something is missing? The blackness of the Devilish one? Hm, no no. The naivety and gentleness of the plants? Perhaps, perhaps." Lahzria didn't know what this woman was saying, but she must be completely brain-dead. Living out here in the forest would do that! Perhaps she was one of the previous people who attempted the Pilgrimage.
Suddenly, the womans head turned in her direction.
"Brain dead am I? I can hear your thoughts, little human. Loud! Very loud. Perhaps better silence yourself." Lahzria stumbled backwards, gasping and quickly shoving her hands over her mouth as she realized she had apparently found. She couldn't have known she was here, could she? "Of course I can hear you. You are mine, after all. Come here."
"U-uhm..."
"Frightened? Bah. Such a useless emotion. Fear is the mind killer. Stifles comprehension." Lahzira simply stared in disbelief. She had no idea how to react to this situation. Here she was, having her mind almost read exactly by some old looking crazy hag. She didn't seem hostile, which was good...but then what was she doing out here? "Help. Perhaps I'll help you, little La-Zha."
"...eh? La-Zha?"
"That's your name, is it not? Or am I wrong? Ah, so hard to think sometimes with all these thoughts rolling around in my head!" She giggled in a mildly disturbing manner. "Well, La-Zha...what are you here for? Wondering through this forest, aimlessly like a dumb animal? Seek the lost lands, perhaps? Or something else? A thought for your thoughts?" Again, part of her mind was telling her to just book it and run back to town, mention this odd encounter with the Kadisht and let them handle it...but at the same time, she was curious. This woman was odd, certainly, but she found herself oddly comfortable around her.
"W-well...uhm, La-Zha isn't my name." She took a few steps closer to the hag as she knelt back on the ground. "Erm...but what are you doing here?"
"Bah! You want a question answered you answer first? A thought for your thoughts? Are you not curious, why big-scary Egru was so mean to you?"
"...how do you-?"
"I know many things, tee-hee!" A rather silly sounding giggle as she was cut off. "Like what they're planning. They're doing it for me, after all hee! But I've grown bored of waiting for those fools to send me someone. So I'm going to...have a little fun with them, hee!"
"Planning something?...what do you mean?"
"Bah, I've already given you the answer. You just have to use the brain I gave you." The hag paused, standing up and dusting off her hands. "Help help...what do you think this little one is missing?"
"Eh?...little one?" Lahzria paused. She really couldn't get a word in edgewise here with this hag, could she? For the best she supposed, she wasn't making any sense whatsoever. Brain that she gave her? And how did she know about what was going on in the village? She had to know these things - but a single question needed to be answered first. She glanced down to what the woman was indicating. It looked like a small pillar of black tar substance, molded to be roughly the shape of a man. It had head, shoulders, and the only thing it was lacking was any facial features or limbs. "...eyes, maybe?" That answer felt right.
"Haha! Yes yes! See, you do see! Fools. And they want to get rid of you. Bah. I should eat their brains." She scoffed, reaching into her robes and pulling out what could only be the aforementioned jar of eyeballs all of various colors. "Yes! Eyes! A very important organ. Window to the soul and all that...but so easily used by others, hee!" Before the hag could go about doing whatever she was doing with the eyes though, she couldn't help herself. She asked.
"Who are you?" The hag paused in her tracks, her head doing a slow, methodical ninety degree turn to face her. Her heart skipped a beat. The air felt hostile, even if only for a second. Fear for the second time that day.
"...hee." A humorless laugh. "Pay attention, brainless! Tell me, what is wrong with this picture? Stare at my beautiful self all you want until you figure it out. I enjoy the attention!" Lahzria frowned, furrowing her eyes. Well, aside from her lankiness and odd clothes, and obvious lack of the ability to feel cold she seemed perfectly normal...wait. The woman hadn't blinked the entire time they had been speaking. Not only that...the more she looked at her facial features, the more they seemed off. Her mouth may have been stuck in a perpetual grin, but the lips hand't moved a single time. Out of the corner of her eyes, it seemed like the face was entire wrong as well - as though the womans eyes were higher or lower than they should be, and asymmetrical.
"You..you can't - Iv-" Before she could finish vocalizing the name, the hag placed a hand over her mouth, pressing their faces almost impossibly close together. Close enough so she could only stare into those large, white, unblinking eyes. Her skin was oddly soft.
"Hee!" A jovial giggle. "Lesson for you! When all other possibilities fail, then only the improbable is left! Or something like that." Iva's other hand grabbed Lahzria's hand, grabbing it firmly. "A little gift for entertaining me!" She shouted, trying to squirm and wiggle out of Iva's grasp. Her hand felt like it was burning, but the god was far too strong for a puny mortal. "Hold still! Knowledge hurts! This shall be over in...now, actually!" Urgh, it burned! It felt like her flesh was falling off! Her vision began to falter, edges of it filling with white.
"Hee! Careful who you show that too! Show it to those fools in the White Dawn and they'll not take too Kindly! Pride and idiocy has been rooted in their upbringing. Bah." Iva released the girls hand, causing her to stumble backwards and trip over a rock, nearly falling into a puddle of goo of some sort. "Toodles darling! I have experiments to do and things to see! Return to White Dawn...and do not let them take that precious mind of yours for granted."
By the time her vision returned, Iva was gone. She glanced down at her hand, a small imprint of an odd symbol on it - the same one that was hanging on an old tapestry in the Kadisht's home. Panting heavily, she pushed herself to her feet and began running. She...she needed to get out of here.
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Dealdric Essence of Purgatory
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4 yrs ago
...Boom...
The drums beat loudly. The mountains reverberated with their mighty low voices. The rhythm was steady, in motion with the people humming in tune with it. A man approached a purple fire. He cleared his voice, which sounded like stones rending each other. Then he began to sing.
The fire roared higher and higher. Wisps were circling above, their giggling laughter putting them in awe. The drums stop, but music was still heard, emanating from the fire. The fire took female shape, and soon, their mistress stood before them.
Dirka the goddess of magic was in a jolly mood. She was humming and doing motions with one her hands with the song. She opened an eye and stopped humming. She was taller by a foot compared to most of them and she saw that some were in much awe, but only the young. She went to the middle age man who had sung, who was on his knees currently, and she crouched next to him. "Deruga? My sage? My florescent imp? Why the formality? You should be raving madly, not bowing boldly! Up with ya', and give the proper magicians greeting! She dragged him up, startling him. She kissed him square on the mouth then smacked him. He smacked her back, though hesitantly. They snapped their fingers and orbs of light floated above both of them, Deruga's being green and Dirka's a pure white. The orbs vanished, and Dirka giggled. She licked her lips and laughed some more. "You've been greeting many lately! But is that a hint of romance I taste? Oh, but enough small talk, what's the pleasure of this Tirade?" He sobered from her aura of madness temporarily to speak clearly. "My lady, we, your bumbling choir, wish to ask a request. We ask to curse a man who has stolen from us." Dirka's eyes grew wide. The wisps all turned red, and Dirka began twitching with rage. Then, like a bomb, she burst. "WHHHHAAAATTTTT!!!??? AND THEY GOT AWAY WITH IT??!! NO ONE STEALS FROM DIRKA'S CHOSEN PEOPLE!! THAT'S STEALING FROM ME!!" She was making the fire rage behind her, the wisps making a painful sound. The sorcerers were getting a rise as well, huffing, growling, snarling; all planning the thief's demise. She stopped and smiled evilly. "Who is the thief?"
Deruga was the person to answer. "A warlock by the name of Kil'Tor, my conductor. He came seeking knowledge, but he lied and only wanted the Seer Stone." Dirka gained a mad and evil smile.
Four beings came out of the ground. Grey skinned, on all fours with six purple eyes, teeth like grindstones, and they seemed to slither under their skin. The Elder Mimics. "Take these Deruga. A creation made by me and my pupil, the god of lies. I like irony, and these things do nothing but lie and steal. Yet they are loyal to any who use magic. The god of lies doesn't care about them like I do, he sees them as little use after he got what he wanted from them. But now, they are under your heel Deruga. Instead of cursing the man, I give you a step up! Kill him like the lying snake he is! and with a snap she vanished.
@Rune_Alchemist
She appeared in the library, on a table in a very revealing position of her figure with her current cloth on. She picked up a stone tablet of the table that said something about birds. "Hello brother! Any new developments~?"
...Boom...
...Boom...
The drums beat loudly. The mountains reverberated with their mighty low voices. The rhythm was steady, in motion with the people humming in tune with it. A man approached a purple fire. He cleared his voice, which sounded like stones rending each other. Then he began to sing.
"...May our song be heard,
by our mistress's bird,
may we sing to her desire,
us her faithful choir.
We give her our pay,
so we don't become her prey,
let her madness wash away,
our worries today,
so we can seek her blessing."
by our mistress's bird,
may we sing to her desire,
us her faithful choir.
We give her our pay,
so we don't become her prey,
let her madness wash away,
our worries today,
so we can seek her blessing."
The fire roared higher and higher. Wisps were circling above, their giggling laughter putting them in awe. The drums stop, but music was still heard, emanating from the fire. The fire took female shape, and soon, their mistress stood before them.
Dirka the goddess of magic was in a jolly mood. She was humming and doing motions with one her hands with the song. She opened an eye and stopped humming. She was taller by a foot compared to most of them and she saw that some were in much awe, but only the young. She went to the middle age man who had sung, who was on his knees currently, and she crouched next to him. "Deruga? My sage? My florescent imp? Why the formality? You should be raving madly, not bowing boldly! Up with ya', and give the proper magicians greeting! She dragged him up, startling him. She kissed him square on the mouth then smacked him. He smacked her back, though hesitantly. They snapped their fingers and orbs of light floated above both of them, Deruga's being green and Dirka's a pure white. The orbs vanished, and Dirka giggled. She licked her lips and laughed some more. "You've been greeting many lately! But is that a hint of romance I taste? Oh, but enough small talk, what's the pleasure of this Tirade?" He sobered from her aura of madness temporarily to speak clearly. "My lady, we, your bumbling choir, wish to ask a request. We ask to curse a man who has stolen from us." Dirka's eyes grew wide. The wisps all turned red, and Dirka began twitching with rage. Then, like a bomb, she burst. "WHHHHAAAATTTTT!!!??? AND THEY GOT AWAY WITH IT??!! NO ONE STEALS FROM DIRKA'S CHOSEN PEOPLE!! THAT'S STEALING FROM ME!!" She was making the fire rage behind her, the wisps making a painful sound. The sorcerers were getting a rise as well, huffing, growling, snarling; all planning the thief's demise. She stopped and smiled evilly. "Who is the thief?"
Deruga was the person to answer. "A warlock by the name of Kil'Tor, my conductor. He came seeking knowledge, but he lied and only wanted the Seer Stone." Dirka gained a mad and evil smile.
"Go, my knights...
into the forbidden night.
Cast your eyes East,
where my brother beasts,
controls his pets.
Go in sets!
Go like a torrent!
Out with a warrant!
Don't come back!
don't you slack!
Until I'm satisfied,
that his mind is mystified!
into the forbidden night.
Cast your eyes East,
where my brother beasts,
controls his pets.
Go in sets!
Go like a torrent!
Out with a warrant!
Don't come back!
don't you slack!
Until I'm satisfied,
that his mind is mystified!
Four beings came out of the ground. Grey skinned, on all fours with six purple eyes, teeth like grindstones, and they seemed to slither under their skin. The Elder Mimics. "Take these Deruga. A creation made by me and my pupil, the god of lies. I like irony, and these things do nothing but lie and steal. Yet they are loyal to any who use magic. The god of lies doesn't care about them like I do, he sees them as little use after he got what he wanted from them. But now, they are under your heel Deruga. Instead of cursing the man, I give you a step up! Kill him like the lying snake he is! and with a snap she vanished.
@Rune_Alchemist
She appeared in the library, on a table in a very revealing position of her figure with her current cloth on. She picked up a stone tablet of the table that said something about birds. "Hello brother! Any new developments~?"
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ReusableSword The Mighty.
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2 hrs ago
Naswaru, The Relentless
A dark night for sure. The ravenous hounds snarled and barked at one another. They had just been fed, three hunters had gone after the pack. They had taken four of the beasts but got greedy and got killed. The massive alpha paced by the bodies. Its green scaled skin buried under thick fur was tough and hard with scars. A thick black mane traveled down its slopped raised spine. Large drops of foul smelling drool seeped from its fanged mouth.
The pack almost seemed to be in an up roar until they suddenly fell silent and cowered towards the ground. A shadow passed over them but made no sound. Their master had come.
Stepping through the gathering of these beasts he called Ridge backs. Nearly two times the size of a wolf and extremely muscular. These beasts were cunning but they were always loud. The smaller ones continued to cower until he stepped by them. The alpha didn’t cower but approached the winged creature and rubbed up against its leg. It made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a purr.
Naswaru ran his hand across its back before moving up to the ledge of the rocky hill. The view for most wouldn’t be much. Looking off into the darkness. He could see. With two large black eyes and a row of small red ones that opened along his tusks. He could see out into the darkness and around him. He has no blind spot, he can see heat, and pick up distinct smells from far away. It’s how he found these.
The view was quite stunning even in the darkness. A few other things lingered down below in the forest. Nothing interesting, these he only visited to stifle some amount of boredom. After a while the god finally turned to the pack who had finished their meal leaving only blood and torn scraps. A low growl from him was enough to silence the pack once more, “Find a challenge.” A simple order for the alpha.
The alpha ridge back stood up on her hind legs and let out a scream that almost sounded like a women’s scream. The rest of the pack joined in and suddenly they were gone. Running back into the wilds. Naswaru did have a job to do a job he was neglecting. The local Rognyak population was beginning to get out of control.
Large beasts that traveled in large hordes. Walking and running on four legs with thick hides and strong bones. They had a bad temper and would charge any that got near, sometimes even him. He made them specifically so the humans here that killed them would have warm furs to travel north and into the snow covered areas. Their bones could be used as better weapons and their meat tasted sweet and savory.
However, a recent tribe had been moving through the area. This tribe was different from the others. Sometimes they would hunt but mostly they would raid and hunt other humans. This in turn led the Rognyak to grow out of control and begin to out compete some local wildlife. It was time for him to thin the herd.
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Lmpkio Kaiju Expert
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2 yrs ago
A thunderous boom rattles across the thick air, followed quickly by a branching strike of lightning, as heavy storm clouds began to hover suddenly over the wilderness below. It's presence had not been felt over the nearby forest prior, having previously enjoyed a beautiful sunny day. The sun above gleamed her long rays of light over the trees, with the bright green conifers swaying in the calm breeze. The wildlife was simply minding its business, having mostly congregated by the large lake in the middle of the forest. There was not a single cloud that could be seen in the sky, nor the faintest signs of an abnormal weather weathers could be felt.
Yet all would change in a matter of mere seconds, as a storm front happened to magically appear out of nowhere. Normally the scent of an approaching storm could be felt miles away, allowing the creatures to move for shelter in advance. Yet not a single one was prepared for this sudden change of events. Not when it formed directly over their heads Soon the wind began to pick up the pace, as a sudden gale howled through the trees, sending the nearby animals scattering for cover. The deer began galloping further into the woods towards higher ground, the squirrels scurry into their little hidey-holes within the thick trunks, and the birds fluttered rapidly for a way out.
This was not your average storm.
Suddenly, a giant three-headed dragon bursts through the storm clouds, as he issues a terrifying screech that echoes throughout the forest for miles around. The almighty God of Weather, Drakariós, has arrived. As he flew over the trees below, his massive wings casting a dark shadow below, he brings upon a heavy downpour of rain down on the unsuspecting forest. The rains quickly began to moisten the dirt, giving the flora its much needed sustenance. Yet the god wasn't here to water the plants. Ahead of him, some several kilometers away, a giant brown condor was flying ahead of him. It had been flying for several hours, relying on the wind patterns to rest his wings as he glided over the forest. But with the sudden disturbance that had been caused by Drakariós' arrival, he knew what was going to happen next. His wings had begun to flap as hard as he can in order to gain more speed, but the dragon behind him has been catching up to him. The condor can hear the cackling behind him, along with the approaching storm, as he tries to find an area in which to find cover.
Suddenly, the condor felt something strike continuously on his back, as if an abnormally strong burst of wind is attempting to push him downwards. But much to his horror, it wasn't the wind patterns changing on its own. Drakariós' middle head had fired a beam of intense wind, in an attempt to knock it off balance and crash into the jagged trees below. Yet as it attempted to make a tight left turn in order to loose the monstrous dragon, a rogue lightning bolt struck the side of the right wing, electrocuting him and setting his wing a flame. With its balance and concentration compromised, the massive avian cries loudly as it takes a nose dive intro the trees below. It crashed into a number of large trees, slowing him down as he skidded across the forest floor. Within ten seconds tops, the giant condor had screeched to a bloody halt.
Its wings had been torn to shreds by the tree trunks ripping through its dark brown feathers, and his body was covered with splinters. As it laid weakly on the ground, with no strength left in his body, he glances to see the golden dragon land several meters away tower over the conifers. Within the dark haze, a lightning strike briefly revealed the creature's three heads as it began to slowly walk towards it.
"BAWAHA! WE GOT HIM NOW!" roared Kai, the left head, as it cackles maniacally in delight, "LETS EAT!"
Several more steps later and Drakariós loomed ominously over the fallen avian, their mouthes watering over the sight of food plopped right in front of them.
"About time." growled Rós, the right head, "We've been on this wild goose chase for a good twenty minutes. We're starved."
"Indeed. It put up a valiant effort." nodded Dra, the middle head, "I wouldn't be surprised if the god of the hunt was testing our dexterity."
With that said, the dragon plants his foot down on the condor's neck, crushing it as the bird made one last squawk before exhaling his final breath.
"May his soul rest peacefully to satiate our famished form." Dra announced as they begin to rip into their newly acquired food.
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Stern Algorithm Loquacious Aggression
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21 min ago
Gammaton
A tall, frail-looking humanoid figure plodded towards the village of White Dawn. It was wrapped in an ill-fitting white cloak and leaned heavily on a staff with a dragonfly insignia. Hooked into the crook of its elbow it carried a basket. This pathetic creature was none other than Gammaton, God of Law, and Lord of the Flies, in his Dragonfly Shepherd guise. Gammaton had trekked almost due north for a considerable distance, turning west just before heading into Drakairos' realm. At the cold shore, he used his power to summon whales. Gammaton had a slight power over all organisms that lived in groups, more so eusocial insects, but eusocial insects could not carry him over the water. Fortunately, the largest aquatic creatures happened to live in schools. Since they were massive, non-ideal creatures for Gammaton to exercise his power on, he had felt a significant drain. But his business with The Honorable Iva'Krorh was worth the effort.
Gammaton quickly caught the attention of a few hunters who were chatting at the edge of the village. They lowered their hunting spears at him warily since they did not recognize him, and humans did not just pop out of the forest, at least not this one.
"Peace!" Gammaton declared in greeting, casting no magic for the moment, "My name is Lavtannoth, I am a traveler, an aged pilgrim seeking the vision in my dreams! I come seeking the great wall, and I bear gifts as a token of my sincerity."
The hunters led him towards the center of the village, where 'Lavtannoth' re-explained his purpose. The elder believed him, for he had arrived just a week before their own pilgrimage to the wall would commence, a most auspicious time that must be due to fate. The village gathered to see the newcomer, who slowly unhooked his basket from his elbow, and took off the basket cover to reveal small packets wrapped in leaves of a type they had never seen before. Dramatically, slowly, Lavtannoth continued, pulling out one of the packets and unwrapping it. Within the wrapping sat a golden chunk of honeycomb, the sticky honey leaving gooey strands on the peeled back parts of the leaves. "Here is a gift, food from my lands, something not you, nor your children, nor your children's children, will discover the source of. Have some. It is sweet and healthy." To demonstrate, Lavtannoth reached with trembling, bony fingers to break off a small piece of the comb, transferring it to his wrinkled lips and nearly-toothless gums. At first, only a few brave hunters were willing to try it, but as the ambrosia stimulated their tongues, their pleasure became apparent, and before long, everyone wanted to try the new food, and it was all Lavtannoth could do to unwrap the leaf packets and hand them out. He laughed to see the joy of the villagers, deflecting their questions about the honey, deciding that keeping the knowledge from them was better for their curiosity in the long run. Besides, this place was far too cold for bees, too cold for insect gods even. Yet more than bringing sweets to the village, he had brought a new experience, something to make their minds race in wonder. And perhaps, by introducing an unplanned element, by bringing in the taste of foreign knowledge, by meddling in this cloistered society, Gammaton hoped to draw the attention of the village's Most Honorable One.
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Archangel89 NEZUKO-CHANNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!
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1 mo ago
’What is the greatest lie in the known world? I find myself pondering upon the moment of my creation often and wonder what great deception took place that a god of deception was needed. Trusted by none but wielded by ever creature both man and god alike what THING could have created one such as I. The greatest lie ever told...the truth.
The God of Deception had observed this particular tribe of humans for quite sometime now and for the life of him he could not fathom how disgustingly ignorant they were. His very life was and power was tied to these pathetic creatures which both infuriated and amused him. They were so easily manipulated and twisted that one could almost turn on man into a god himself if it were not for their predisposition for arrogance.
The leader of the the tribe, a man by the name of Kymarat, ruled the people with an iron fist and while the people seemed displeased with the tyrant no one is willing to do anything to stop him. A perfect candidate for the early stages of the grand plan. Under the guise of a masked wise man Iarus approached the cruel king,
”My king, I humbly request an audience with such a powerful ruler.
The sudden appearance of the masked man caused all those within the simple throne room to draw their weapons in defense of a king that needed no defenders,
”You dare approach my throne! How did you get past my guards?”
”It matters not oh mighty ruler, I come bearing news of your neighbors. They are gathering forces that you cannot possibly fathom and if you do not strike now they will become too powerful even for one such as yourself.
The not so subtle flattery softened the truth of an in pending invasion. Spears were lowered and swords sheathed he had his attention...good. He was too simple to let something like this go.
”Tell me what news you have old man and let's see if you live long enough to leave.”
-Musings of Iarus
The God of Deception had observed this particular tribe of humans for quite sometime now and for the life of him he could not fathom how disgustingly ignorant they were. His very life was and power was tied to these pathetic creatures which both infuriated and amused him. They were so easily manipulated and twisted that one could almost turn on man into a god himself if it were not for their predisposition for arrogance.
The leader of the the tribe, a man by the name of Kymarat, ruled the people with an iron fist and while the people seemed displeased with the tyrant no one is willing to do anything to stop him. A perfect candidate for the early stages of the grand plan. Under the guise of a masked wise man Iarus approached the cruel king,
”My king, I humbly request an audience with such a powerful ruler.
The sudden appearance of the masked man caused all those within the simple throne room to draw their weapons in defense of a king that needed no defenders,
”You dare approach my throne! How did you get past my guards?”
”It matters not oh mighty ruler, I come bearing news of your neighbors. They are gathering forces that you cannot possibly fathom and if you do not strike now they will become too powerful even for one such as yourself.
The not so subtle flattery softened the truth of an in pending invasion. Spears were lowered and swords sheathed he had his attention...good. He was too simple to let something like this go.
”Tell me what news you have old man and let's see if you live long enough to leave.”
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Kalas "Time to party!"
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3 days ago
The Judicator | Lord of the Underworld
TIME: Present Day - Late Morning | LOCATION: Neberziel - The Old God's Cavern | INTERACTION: None
"Back so soon, God of Souls?"
The voice oozed out from the darkness as a whisper, greeting Azhriel as he materialized just beyond the entrance of the hidden cavern. Even despite the mystical, emerald-flamed torches burning at either side, no light seemed able to penetrate very far into the mouth of the cave. The sound was becoming all too familiar to him now, a fact he'd rather not be true. This was the third time in the last century he'd come to this place looking for answers, the previous visit occurring just a mere decade ago. As a Divine Being, destined to live forever, a hundred years isn't that long at all.
"And to what do I owe the pleasure this time?" It spoke again, another question asked.
"My brethren, they are beginning to learn of your existence." Azhriel replied, finally. This Soul had been kept a secret for centuries, its' very identity lost to the annals of time. Not even Iva'Krorh, God of Knowledge, knew of them. Though Azhriel had begun to suspect the opposite. Or at the very least they were on course to finding out. It was something he had to prevent at all costs. But how far would his fellow God go to find out the truth, he was quite literally mad about knowledge after all.
"Is that worry I sense from you?" The voice inquired. Though it remained surrounded in unnatural shadow, Azh could feel them smiling back at him.
"Not for your sake." He snapped back, clearly agitated by what they'd implied. "You and I both know why your existence must remain buried!" His final words echoed out as he finished. The silence that followed remained uninterrupted for a few lingering moments before the voice spoke again.
"You already know the answer you seek. Use them, it's what they were created for. They will grant you the power to keep your secret safe." The voice seemed to want to entice him but Azhriel was left disappointed with the answer he'd been given.
"We've had this discussion, already. My answer is no. The balance must be maintained." The Judge began turning his back to the cavern entrance, clenching his fist as he did so.
"Then you will fail to keep me hidden and in turn lose everything!" With that the voice began to laugh, quietly at first before increasing in volume to become a deafening roar. Azhriel had already left by then.
TIME: Present Day - Late Morning | LOCATION: Neberziel - The Canyon | INTERACTION: None
As the Lord of the Underworld arrived back at the Canyon, he was met by Lyssa one of the three Ashen Guards. Dead, yet powerful guardians whose task remained to protect Neberziel from any outside dangers. Lyssa had been a half-God in life, detested by the rest of her kin both Human and Divine alike. All except for him, who had appeared before her during an attempt to take her own life. Despite her initial refusal to believe his offer of friendship, Lyssa had been his most loyal disciple for several decades now. She had always remained virtually emotionless but Azh could tell from her expression something was amiss. "What is it, Lyssa?" He asked, his earlier annoyance still lingering.
She took a moment to steel herself before speaking, "My Lord, it's Ragnagedon. He has awoken from his slumber." She responded gravely. The news shook him from his foul mood almost instantly.
"It can't be." He said to himself. "Quickly, you must tell me everything that has happened."
"When he awoke, Verzak shook violently. The rumble of the earth could be heard even from the Pit of Ahael. It wasn't soon afterwards that ash and fire filled the horizon. Then, out of nowhere, a battle ensued-"
"A battle, who could possibly stand against him? Unless it was Sveiand?" Azhriel interrupted before she could finish.
"It was a dragon, my Lord." She corrected.
"A dragon?!" The Judge repeated, almost amused by the answer. "And what became of this...dragon?" He inquired.
"It fell. Though it seemed as if there were more of its' kind who answered to the Destroyer." Lyssa informed him. Azhriel's shock swiftly subsided, just as his anger had, as he slouched back onto his throne.
"A creation of Ragnagedon, huh?" The God of Souls pondered, a wry smile creeping across his masked face. "Bring it before me." He commanded. "It's high-time we recruit another Soul into the Ashen Guard."
Azhriel meets with the Old God to search for answers in order to keep the secret of its' existence hidden from his fellow Gods. Upon returning to his throne, one of his disciples informs him of Ragnagedon's awakening and the death of one of the Fire God's creations. Azhriel intends to recruit the Soul of the fallen dragon into the Ashen Guard.
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Ferron
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
A towering figure, shrouded by a dirty cloak, tapped at the ground with a metallic tool. The tool was simple in design, composed of silver, it was a long rod that forked out at the end at a ninety degree angle. The figure hummed, as he walked around the mountain, gently tapping the ground with the end of his tool.
He thought to himself, "This is a suitable location. It is slightly smaller than the other mountain I was considering, but that should not be much of an issue. The stone quality is higher, and it has a sizable and varied supply of ore. That other mountain was also tempting, but I feel as though it is to small for my purposes. Perhaps I can find another use for it still."
While he had faster means of reaching his home, he decided to simply walk back to in order to better survey the land. Though despite walking casually, he seemed to move much faster than he should reasonably be able to. While walking, he allowed himself to be absorbed back into his thoughts, "It seems like my projects will be more difficult than I originally imaged. I will need to account for my meddlesome siblings in my current and future plans. A number of them seem well-meaning, or at least not actively malicious, but they could still prove problematic. It is much easier to account for an attack by the enemy, rather than a betrayal of a supposed friend. But I also will sometimes need to work with them for mutually goals or I will quickly get nowhere. I will need to cautious in my interaction with them, but I also need to consider the effect that my projects will have on them. I would rather not accidentally provoke someone as much as I would rather not be provoked myself. I will need to contemplate this delicate situation further."
Eventually, he reached a small dirt hovel. It did not seem particularly noteworthy, but as he walked in, he waved his hand and a dirt wall collapsed, revealing a stone staircase. As he walked down the staircase, the dirt rose back from the ground reforming the wall. He entered a large cavernous room formed of carved stone, and walked past four large metallic statues, examining each one as he passed. He noted to himself that the bronze statue should be polished soon. At the end of room was a giant stone door, which the figure opened with ease.
As he entered through the doors, he entered a room composed of bronze, and he casually removed his cloak and gently placed it on a nearby rack, and placed his rod onto a table. The giant doors slowly closed behind him. He walked down the stairs deeper into his realm, the staircase below him seemingly shifting from bronze, to iron, to silver, to gold. As he walked through the gold room, he went into a large room housing a statue similiar to those in front of the stone door, except it was larger, and fancier. He took the time to examine this statue for possible defects, and once he was satisfied with its condition, he proceed towards a large tungsten door, which he moved through with similiar ease as to stone door.
He proceed to walk through the platinum layer, and down the final staircase, which was entirely composed of platinum until it met with the obsidian floor. He looked out and checked the sea of liquid metals that surrounded the obsidian island, even going so far as to reach into and physically inspect it. He would need to devote a later time to ensure the molten forge was in proper order.
He once again slipped into his thoughts, "If all goes to plan, I will soon have some assistants to help him maintain my domain. My siblings could not trusted to watch over this place. And humans, they show promise, but they are not ready to learn the secrets of metallurgy and are to entangled in the machinations of my siblings. However, preparation for that project are not fully complete, I need to focus at the project at hand."
He moved over to a vat, and looked inside of it. Within it was a blue, metallic liquid. He moved his hand to cuff some in his hands to feel its texture and to more closely examine it. He thought, "Yes, I believe this is complete. It has taken a great deal of time to manufacture, and a great deal of divine energy to create a relatively small amount, but I do believe this substance will be very useful in future endeavors. I must need to use it sparingly. I shall store it in the platinum layer for later use. I have designed it to be light-weight and strong. For now, I should not inform my siblings of this creation. There are several reasons why keep this a secret with benefit me, but chiefly, Iva is one of my more fickle siblings. Having some leverage over her may prove invaluable in the near future."
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
A towering figure, shrouded by a dirty cloak, tapped at the ground with a metallic tool. The tool was simple in design, composed of silver, it was a long rod that forked out at the end at a ninety degree angle. The figure hummed, as he walked around the mountain, gently tapping the ground with the end of his tool.
He thought to himself, "This is a suitable location. It is slightly smaller than the other mountain I was considering, but that should not be much of an issue. The stone quality is higher, and it has a sizable and varied supply of ore. That other mountain was also tempting, but I feel as though it is to small for my purposes. Perhaps I can find another use for it still."
While he had faster means of reaching his home, he decided to simply walk back to in order to better survey the land. Though despite walking casually, he seemed to move much faster than he should reasonably be able to. While walking, he allowed himself to be absorbed back into his thoughts, "It seems like my projects will be more difficult than I originally imaged. I will need to account for my meddlesome siblings in my current and future plans. A number of them seem well-meaning, or at least not actively malicious, but they could still prove problematic. It is much easier to account for an attack by the enemy, rather than a betrayal of a supposed friend. But I also will sometimes need to work with them for mutually goals or I will quickly get nowhere. I will need to cautious in my interaction with them, but I also need to consider the effect that my projects will have on them. I would rather not accidentally provoke someone as much as I would rather not be provoked myself. I will need to contemplate this delicate situation further."
Eventually, he reached a small dirt hovel. It did not seem particularly noteworthy, but as he walked in, he waved his hand and a dirt wall collapsed, revealing a stone staircase. As he walked down the staircase, the dirt rose back from the ground reforming the wall. He entered a large cavernous room formed of carved stone, and walked past four large metallic statues, examining each one as he passed. He noted to himself that the bronze statue should be polished soon. At the end of room was a giant stone door, which the figure opened with ease.
As he entered through the doors, he entered a room composed of bronze, and he casually removed his cloak and gently placed it on a nearby rack, and placed his rod onto a table. The giant doors slowly closed behind him. He walked down the stairs deeper into his realm, the staircase below him seemingly shifting from bronze, to iron, to silver, to gold. As he walked through the gold room, he went into a large room housing a statue similiar to those in front of the stone door, except it was larger, and fancier. He took the time to examine this statue for possible defects, and once he was satisfied with its condition, he proceed towards a large tungsten door, which he moved through with similiar ease as to stone door.
He proceed to walk through the platinum layer, and down the final staircase, which was entirely composed of platinum until it met with the obsidian floor. He looked out and checked the sea of liquid metals that surrounded the obsidian island, even going so far as to reach into and physically inspect it. He would need to devote a later time to ensure the molten forge was in proper order.
He once again slipped into his thoughts, "If all goes to plan, I will soon have some assistants to help him maintain my domain. My siblings could not trusted to watch over this place. And humans, they show promise, but they are not ready to learn the secrets of metallurgy and are to entangled in the machinations of my siblings. However, preparation for that project are not fully complete, I need to focus at the project at hand."
He moved over to a vat, and looked inside of it. Within it was a blue, metallic liquid. He moved his hand to cuff some in his hands to feel its texture and to more closely examine it. He thought, "Yes, I believe this is complete. It has taken a great deal of time to manufacture, and a great deal of divine energy to create a relatively small amount, but I do believe this substance will be very useful in future endeavors. I must need to use it sparingly. I shall store it in the platinum layer for later use. I have designed it to be light-weight and strong. For now, I should not inform my siblings of this creation. There are several reasons why keep this a secret with benefit me, but chiefly, Iva is one of my more fickle siblings. Having some leverage over her may prove invaluable in the near future."
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jetipster Not all those that wander are lost
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
A pale finger ran down the clean-cut jawline of the handsome face, moisture forming at the very touch. The hand drew back with a sigh that distorted the last gasp of condensation from the full lips that had been worshipped for days. The god of winter stepped back from the figure of Cal, his most recent lover, the hurt and bitterness swirling in his dark grey eyes calming quickly into a pale blue of regret and remorse. Another one. Another mortal enchanted by his looks and mystery. Another period of time where he thought he felt love. Another burst of fury when the passion was revealed as merely carnal as his lover tried to leave. Another handsome ice statue to bedeck a forgotten wing of his sprawling palace.
Sveiand turned away from the former mortal in a swirl of furs. Moments later he was flopping down onto his bed of ice, sinking into the multitude of thick furs. He closed his eyes and his lips tightened as a single tear formed, crystallised and fell. A deep inhalation of the frigid glacial air and he knew this disappointment would be his last. The amount of time they we were willing stay was growing shorter and the most recent men had the gall to ask him for fire! Fire! Maybe he should just resign himself to eternal solitude like his wretched sister. Or better still, join her. At least the cold and the dark complement one another. He rolled to submerge his face amongst the luscious pelts.
Times were changing and if things were heating up, literally, he couldn’t sit ideally by waiting for the next sacrificial kayak to arrive with another temporary companion. The feeling of uncertainty grew in the pit of his stomach – a previously unfelt emotion. He’d been comfortable in his frigid fortress with his power stretching far over the north of the world. He was feared by all the inhabitants in the region touched by his chill and prayers for his benevolence were never quiet. Whilst the few tribes living in the Northern Crown do the opposite and send him sacrificial ‘companions’ to ensure a thick sea ice for hunting both seals and whales. Maybe a god could become complacent…
Then he felt it. The heat. Ragnagedon. In a flurry of snowflakes, the cold of winter erupted from his villa. Shards of ice the size of spires flew from his explosion and icebergs carved of the edge of Niflheim, sending small tsunamis toward the nearby shore. Once air borne he was quickly transformed into Renvontulet and spiralled across the heavens. A momentary flare of exhilaration was soon extinguished at the sight he beheld. The number of fires lighting up the land below was a shocking sight. He tumbled and weaved in the stars, glimmering red, knowing how the tribal shamen below would perceive the ominous shades. He stretched his consciousness across the Northern Crown noting the intensity of artificially conjured flames around White Dawn. “That bleached bag of bones”. The radiant one had befriended him and gladly received assistance for the infamous The Wall of Hlakth. And now he’d given his people the knowledge to oppose the cold. He understood the practicalities of survival but had no idea of the growth and spread of this burning blight.
He flung himself over the Crown and surged toward Osarion, his multicoloured flares parting around the spires. However, the bright lights over the southern peaks caused him to falter. So it was true. His brother had awoken. He thought about possible allies in the inevitable struggle with his opposite. Darkness and rain would subdue the fire and so Oao and Drakairos would have to be sent a message. But Azhriel would want to know first. He knew that frostbite and hypothermia sent his own fair share of souls into his care but they had fair warning and were only ill prepared. He did not have the sheer thirst for destruction that he knew raged within his twin.
As he span to surge East to the Pit of Ahael he noticed the large flying specks silhouetted against the reddening sky. “They are born”. That decided it then. He also needed to take his place in the world.
Sveiand turned away from the former mortal in a swirl of furs. Moments later he was flopping down onto his bed of ice, sinking into the multitude of thick furs. He closed his eyes and his lips tightened as a single tear formed, crystallised and fell. A deep inhalation of the frigid glacial air and he knew this disappointment would be his last. The amount of time they we were willing stay was growing shorter and the most recent men had the gall to ask him for fire! Fire! Maybe he should just resign himself to eternal solitude like his wretched sister. Or better still, join her. At least the cold and the dark complement one another. He rolled to submerge his face amongst the luscious pelts.
Times were changing and if things were heating up, literally, he couldn’t sit ideally by waiting for the next sacrificial kayak to arrive with another temporary companion. The feeling of uncertainty grew in the pit of his stomach – a previously unfelt emotion. He’d been comfortable in his frigid fortress with his power stretching far over the north of the world. He was feared by all the inhabitants in the region touched by his chill and prayers for his benevolence were never quiet. Whilst the few tribes living in the Northern Crown do the opposite and send him sacrificial ‘companions’ to ensure a thick sea ice for hunting both seals and whales. Maybe a god could become complacent…
Then he felt it. The heat. Ragnagedon. In a flurry of snowflakes, the cold of winter erupted from his villa. Shards of ice the size of spires flew from his explosion and icebergs carved of the edge of Niflheim, sending small tsunamis toward the nearby shore. Once air borne he was quickly transformed into Renvontulet and spiralled across the heavens. A momentary flare of exhilaration was soon extinguished at the sight he beheld. The number of fires lighting up the land below was a shocking sight. He tumbled and weaved in the stars, glimmering red, knowing how the tribal shamen below would perceive the ominous shades. He stretched his consciousness across the Northern Crown noting the intensity of artificially conjured flames around White Dawn. “That bleached bag of bones”. The radiant one had befriended him and gladly received assistance for the infamous The Wall of Hlakth. And now he’d given his people the knowledge to oppose the cold. He understood the practicalities of survival but had no idea of the growth and spread of this burning blight.
He flung himself over the Crown and surged toward Osarion, his multicoloured flares parting around the spires. However, the bright lights over the southern peaks caused him to falter. So it was true. His brother had awoken. He thought about possible allies in the inevitable struggle with his opposite. Darkness and rain would subdue the fire and so Oao and Drakairos would have to be sent a message. But Azhriel would want to know first. He knew that frostbite and hypothermia sent his own fair share of souls into his care but they had fair warning and were only ill prepared. He did not have the sheer thirst for destruction that he knew raged within his twin.
As he span to surge East to the Pit of Ahael he noticed the large flying specks silhouetted against the reddening sky. “They are born”. That decided it then. He also needed to take his place in the world.
ReusableSword The Mighty.
Member
Seen
2 hrs ago
Naswaru, The Relentless
The quiet flight towards his ravenous horde of creations was interrupted. Something big punctured through the clouds nearby. It seemed that today was destined to be interesting. The large form of a three headed dragon plummeted through the clouds and towards a rather unfortunate large bird. Naswaru watched as he glided, the dragon didn’t hesitate to down and kill the unfortunate scavenger.
He didn’t waste too much time gliding over there. The beat of his wings was but barely a whisper even when he perched himself atop a broken tree overlooking his brother. The mighty three headed dragon, king of the mountains, and god of weather and storms. One to be feared if one where to get on his bad side.
The slight drizzle of rain coated Naswaru while he looked down at his kin. “If you were really that hungry you should have told me. I did make you those sky whales just for you and your mountains after all.” A toothy grin cracked from his face. Naswaru doesn’t have any vocal cords to speak of his speech is more like one way telepathy.
“If you’re looking for a meal I could use your assistance. A horde of Rognyak have grown too large and need to be hunted. 600 need to be slain but no more. Several other predators will be assisting us in this if you wish to join me and fill your belly.”
The same toothy grin persisted across the creatures face. His two large black eyes fixed on the god before him while the others continually shifted independently of the others scanning everything around them. Regardless of the others answer Naswaru unfolded his large wings and with one large push lifted himself into the air.
“It’s this way. And your dexterity is still sloppy, but better than what it was.” With a laugh the winged creature continued on his way toward the lower fields. The scent of the heard wafted high on the winds. There was something else there that he was picking up as well. Blood, the slaughter had begun. The other predators must have begun their hunt already.
@Lmpkio
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Anu'Varr
The Scarred One
When night fell upon Osarion, the castle entered an eerie dark, full of whispers and other strange noises. Candlelight and small fires were the only source of light, and even they held little presence in the thick blanket of blackness. At times, she wondered if Oao could ever use such a blanket to assault her, but Anu knew that her Elder sister was crippled by fear, unbefitting of a Goddess with her stature. No, Oao would never be a threat to the Scarred One, this she knew was fact. Ever uncaring of her siblings, Anu didn't even know where she resided, or where half of the others called their homes. It was no secret where Anu dwelled however, the Goddess had made sure of that. Let her home be a beacon of power, let it haunt the dreams of man and strike fear into their hearts. There was no reason to be so secretive, for she was honest with what she was, unlike others. Anu sighed, her head resting on her left hand as she sat upon her throne. She had a bored expression painted on her face, the only sound in the room, was here left hand tapping on bone.
She knew not how long it had been since she sat down, time had a way of slipping away from her. The silence in her Throne room was deafening, for no creatures, no servants besides lesser devils, inhabited Osarion. The Lesser Devils had been a bi-product when Osarion was molded from the rock. She had used a great amount of her energy, and some of that raw power manifested itself into small creatures, no taller than the head of a goat, who came in many shapes and forms. Some had horns, others had wings, most were shades of red and a few were grey or black. The grey and black ones were usually in charge. They made poor servants, only really caring about food, and after she had discovered a few stealing scraps from her Blood Wall, she had banished them from her Throne. Anu wasn't sure if they had a higher form of intelligence, and to be honest, she really didn't care. Now they wandered the halls, wild and sporadic, as they tended to multiply quickly. Individually, she had noticed they were poor fighters, but when they swarmed, it was a different story. She enjoyed throwing them live humans down in the pits, a favorite treat, but fortunately they could hunt for themselves and on many occasions, she was delighted to hear screams. It had been a very long time since she had created anything new, for the Sin Curse had taken what was left of her strength, but at last she felt invigorated once more.
It was a necessary sacrifice in the end. She took great joy in knowing, and feeling, what she had inflicted upon the humans. In their hubris, her siblings had not even tried to stop it. Anu smiled, did they not see what it would do to their precious humans? Well she was not one to care about the opinions or feelings of her siblings, let them find out how deep her perversion would cling to mortal hearts. Anu doubted it would ever be able to be cured or forgotten. No- her curse would forevermore have lasting effects upon that fragile species. This comforted her in the end.
Suddenly, and without warning, she felt a great rumble ripple through Osarion and beyond. This caught Anu's attention as she sat up, the smile on her face turning to a frown at the disturbance. Directly across from her throne, her eyes fell upon a dim glow. She stood and walked out to the balcony, resting her arms upon the railings as she watched Verzak awaken. With a wave of her hand, the dark miasma parted so she had a clearer view of the mountains down South. It seemed, Ragnagedon had awakened once more. Such a destructive God, so lost from right and wrong. A devilish smile fell upon her lips, for she knew her Eldest siblings would stop at nothing to put him back to slumber. And speaking of which, she felt Sveiand's presence for a moment passing over. In the distance Anu briefly saw colorful lights, then nothing. She turned, the Miasma filtered back to where it once was and Anu walked inside. This unexpected development only meant more death would follow for mortal kind. There was nothing wrong with that in her eyes.
Right now, however, she required servants. She knew exactly what would be made, beings of flesh attuned to her domain. Feeling compelled to create, she took the corpse of the blonde headed girl, and waded into the Blood pool that was beneath the wall. She waded out into the middle, and tore the girl into pieces, letting them sink. Then Anu held out her hand, eyes glowing vibrantly, and the Goddess of Devilry poured her corruption into the pool. It began to bubble as Anu walked out, and before long, a vaguely humanoid creature emerged, pale claw hitting black stone. With bated breath, Anu waited as the creature emerged. It stood, crimson droplets falling from its pale skin. It looked at its hands, touched itself like a child learning something new, and as more emerged, the first one looked at Anu. The Goddess stared back impassively.
"This... is not what I had intended." Came her cold voice at last. The creature still looked at her, cocking its head at the words, now joined by more. Anu again spoke aloud to herself, "Hmm... But what went wrong?" She pondered on this, for these creatures had not been what she wanted to create. To give precious life too. Her Godly brain, incomprehensible to mortal-kind, questioned the nature of such a failure, finally coming to the conclusion within minutes. Instead of creating what she had wanted from her thoughts, in which doing so would use more of her energy, she had thought to bypass such a costly procedure by using a medium- flesh. It had been a failure, simply because she used a corpses flesh. Now knowing what she truly needed, and it was a revelation that she did not like, she looked at the creatures once more. They were silently staring at her.
She walked over and began to touch the first one, and spoke softly, "You will have to do for now, my... Flesh Demons. Yes, that is what you are after all. What comes from flesh, always craves it... Can you speak?" The demon before her, shook her head. Though it was only a slight inconvenience, Anu knew they were at least intelligent enough to understand her, and a thought came to mind.
She pulled away from the first demon, and spoke aloud to all of them, "I can give you a voice, but in return I have a task for you. There exists in the lands beyond this castle, beyond this mountain, another species. They are called humans, they have soft flesh and warm blood. I need a few. Bring them to me, and you will be rewarded." The Flesh Demons stood around for a couple of seconds, then left.
Anu sat back in her Throne, it mattered little to her if they were successful or not. She could get her own humans if she was in a rush, but why waste an excellent opportunity? Her first creations needed to prove themselves after all.
Rune_Alchemist Absolute Depravity
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
~~The Illuminator~~
@Dealdric
Location:
Cy'Lathak, Library of Eternity
It'd be an odd sight for any human to see. A ragged old hag cackling madly to herself as she walked through the forest, a human shaped pile of black ooze in her hands, holding it tightly to her chest. Many would likely think the woman mad - and they'd be more correct than they could ever assume. Oh what a delightful development! Ah, how great indeed! This could perhaps be a changing of the guard! The road to new discoveries for those funny little humans! It'd be quite interesting to see what happened. Little La-Zha could very well alleviate his boredom so very much! Hee!
"Ah, ah, but I must finish you...yes, yes! The eyes. Was distracted by the human. Must finish." Stopping just as she reached the impossibly high wall protecting their realm from those of mortals. Placing the pile of black ooze on the ground, the woman watched silently as its soft, malleable body barely held itself together. Grabbing the jar of eyes from their clock, the woman walked towards the ooze, opened the jar...and dumped the three dozen or so eyes right on the object. The eyes floated in the tar like ooze, quickly becoming obscured by its inky blackness.
Still nothing.
"Oh right! Almost forgot, silly me!" Pulling a single strand of white hair from their human guise's head, Iva looked at it for a moment, waving it around as if to test something. Seemingly satisfied, the god placed it on top of the creatures head. Instantly, the pile of ooze shuddered, before instantly losing form and flopping to the ground. Now, anyone looking on would have likely been concerned whatever the woman just did, had been a failure. But no, no, this was perfect! YES!
"AHAH!~" The woman began cackling madly. "Wonderful! Mgn'tog!" Several more words that would have made no sense to mortal, or perhaps even other gods ears followed as she proceeded to jovially partake of her success. The pile of black ooze seemed to shift, shuddering more and more as though a stone had been skipped across the ooze's surface. "Yes yes! Feel your surroundings! Grow! Shape yourself!" Kneeling next to it, Iva spoke surprisingly calm words of encouragement to the new creation. A few moments later, several eyes floated to the surface of the ooze, all different colors blinking and studying their creator with seeming curiosity. A dim light glowed from within the creature as it began moving, the ooze rising from the ground, turning its shape into that of a sphere.
"blrrb?" A few bubbles popped as the creature apparently tried to communicate, its dozens of eyes studying Iva stil.
"Hmm...I shall call your kind 'B'thkor', and your name shall be 'Zhavitri'." Giggling happily, the woman began walking. Not knowing what to do, the ball of slime followed, struggling to keep up with the gods stride, but managed somehow to not get left behind as the god walked into a cavern within the glacier. "Come along, hee! I have a feeling we shall have guests soon! Best not to be a bad host, hee!"
The trek back to the rift to Cy'Lathak was a complicated one. Winding halls through the glacier, impossibly complex paths and even a wild animal or two that had decided to make the halls of the Glacier their home. Zhavitri, the newly made creature learned that it didn't need to use all of its eyes to see constantly, suppressing the rest of them within its inky black body while only using two to sense its surroundings was enough. Eventually however, they reached their destination.
It wasn't grand, nor was it flashy or showy. If anything, this seemed a stark contrast to what one might expect the entrance to a place like the Library to look like. Perhaps that was the beauty of it? Iva cared very little for showy or flashy things, after all. It was a simple pedestal, situated in a large hallway of ice. No decoration, nothing. A small doorway that led to nowhere was carved into one of the sides. Iva didn't need to bother with the mechanisms himself. After all, he was a god. He could do whatever he wanted.
"Hee! Here we are! Welcome home and all that! I wonder what sort of things you can do? I should run tests." Picking up the ball of slime, the creature seemed mildly grateful for the action of not having to keep up. "Hmm...no no, can't just walk in! I need a grand entrance!" Laughing jovially, Iva took a few steps back from the portal...and pirouetted right into the doorway, disappearing in a flash of light. This portal just so happened to link directly with Cy'Lathak, and not the woefully empty lands surrounding it.
So about the same time that Dirka arrived - Iva also arrived. There was a flash of light, Iva pirouetting into the room still holding onto the slime who looked like it just wanted to be let down. Iva stopped twirling just as they made it to the table where Dirka was laying in, in a mildly suggestive pose.
"Sorry sister!" Iva, still in their assumed human guise giggled lightly. "Reading about the birds and the bees, are we? Aren't you a little old for such a talk?" Taking a few steps away from the table, Iva decided the farce was over. There was another flash of bright light, the human flesh and bindings falling away from the god in an instant.
"Hee! Apologies! I was out playing with some humans. If I knew you were coming, I would have put on some tea." He replied in a friendly, jovial tone, stretching his arms out and making a rather comically exaggerated bow. "Ah, seems I'm quite the popular little god today! You and someone making a bit of a ruckus in White Dawn! Ah, but I'd rather play with you a bit so I'll let little La-Zha handle it. She must mature before I have her stare into the abyss, and learn such secrets!" He laughed. "Oh oh, yes yes! I need to show you something!" He placed the Slime on the table, who began looking curiously up at Dirka.
It trembled slightly, seemingly intimidated by the gods presence.
Location:
White Dawn
@Stern Algorithm
She booked it back to the village, breath failing her barely one minute later. Urgh, maybe she should have exercised more instead of lazing around. She had to tell the Kadisht's and Lloi's, right? That she had med with Lord Iva! She had all the proof they should need on her hand, after all.
And yet...
Iva's words echoed in her head. They were planning something? Wanted to get rid of her? Sure, she wasn't exactly the most useful, but they couldn't just want to get rid of her...but that might explain Egru's behavior. She paused, unable to continue running as the cold air filled her lungs, chilling her bones and body with an uneasy feeling. Iva said fear was the mind killer, so she did her best not to feel it, but she couldn't suppress it. Urgh...haha, what should she do?
She began walking again, having reached the edge of the forest, only to come across another odd sight. Everyone in the village had gathered in the center, where the large brazier was that was fed thick logs of wood from the Lyssian forest to constantly fed from dusk until dawn. It helped keep the place lit at night, and offered some manner of warmth for the hunters watching over the city at night. Some sort of commotion? She hesitated to get involved. Her hand still felt like it was burning, and the silver marking hadn't gone away yet.
...
She found her feet carrying her towards the commotion, and was greeted with almost an implausible sight.
The strict and humorless Kadisht and Lloi's, were laughing and enjoying the presence of an outsider it seemed. The village - especially others her age seemed particularly enthusiastic about it. What was going on? He was handing out some sort of treats to all of them. Any other day, she'd be right up there with them, probably asking for more than her fair share, but after the day she had? She just wanted some quiet to think. Yet, again, she found her feet carrying her towards this stranger, curiosity getting the better of her. She stood just on the edge of the gathered people, holding her left hand with her right, trying to fight the burning sensation she was still feeling from whatever that symbol was.
Unbeknownst to her, the person before her was a god...and he would be able to see the marking clear as a lighthouse at night. To the god - it would probably look as though this human had been sent by Iva - it was known only those who had a direct connection to the god carried such a marking.
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Dealdric Essence of Purgatory
Member
Seen
4 yrs ago
@Rune_Alchemist
Dirka giggled at Iva's costume and remark about birds and bees. She watched her deranged sibling and...a ball of living slime?When it was placed on the table she saw it trembling. "Oooooohhh! It's so cute! But, eewww, slimy like drool." she said while poking it. When Iva said to follow, she jumped off the table and quickly got in pace. "And no one is old enough for birds and the bees, Iva. Especially members and followers of my domain. Parties with my sorcerers get a little on the seductively naughty side. I blame the bees for that. Buz buz buz! I myself believe I'm a bird. *Chirps* You I bet don't mess with such things, unless...you did it as an experiment!" She stops completely for a moment. "How in Father Times name would you even do that?! Never-mind, I would like to keep my last few marbles." and she catches back up.
Deruga wore a tree green cloak over his magicians garments. He and the mimics were camping in a glade in the edges of the teeth of madness. He stroked one mimics back whilst it purred a rumbling sounded more like grinding gears. His thoughts were fleeting, changing from one to another were only a madman could see the ties. Eventually his thoughts went to his greeting his goddess. He remembered her catching the romance on his lips. He sighed heavily before falling on his back and closing his eyes for a short time. When he opened them, he saw Dirka laying next to him. He was startled, but then realized it was the mimic messing with him. "Funny, funny! So the beasts have humor eh? How funny do you think it'll be when I punch ya' lights? Where'd be you humor then?" The Mimic Dirka giggled. "I may not be the real thing, but we both know that I can only take a form of which a prey desires. Which means you desire the Alpha. You don't have a chance!" He turned on his side to get away from it. "Jog on you piss ant. Join your pack's snuggle pile. I'm going to dream of badgie-winkles." and he fell into a deep sleep.
Dirka giggled at Iva's costume and remark about birds and bees. She watched her deranged sibling and...a ball of living slime?When it was placed on the table she saw it trembling. "Oooooohhh! It's so cute! But, eewww, slimy like drool." she said while poking it. When Iva said to follow, she jumped off the table and quickly got in pace. "And no one is old enough for birds and the bees, Iva. Especially members and followers of my domain. Parties with my sorcerers get a little on the seductively naughty side. I blame the bees for that. Buz buz buz! I myself believe I'm a bird. *Chirps* You I bet don't mess with such things, unless...you did it as an experiment!" She stops completely for a moment. "How in Father Times name would you even do that?! Never-mind, I would like to keep my last few marbles." and she catches back up.
Deruga wore a tree green cloak over his magicians garments. He and the mimics were camping in a glade in the edges of the teeth of madness. He stroked one mimics back whilst it purred a rumbling sounded more like grinding gears. His thoughts were fleeting, changing from one to another were only a madman could see the ties. Eventually his thoughts went to his greeting his goddess. He remembered her catching the romance on his lips. He sighed heavily before falling on his back and closing his eyes for a short time. When he opened them, he saw Dirka laying next to him. He was startled, but then realized it was the mimic messing with him. "Funny, funny! So the beasts have humor eh? How funny do you think it'll be when I punch ya' lights? Where'd be you humor then?" The Mimic Dirka giggled. "I may not be the real thing, but we both know that I can only take a form of which a prey desires. Which means you desire the Alpha. You don't have a chance!" He turned on his side to get away from it. "Jog on you piss ant. Join your pack's snuggle pile. I'm going to dream of badgie-winkles." and he fell into a deep sleep.
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