The body of Cassios had not been amongst the fallen, nor had he been seen after the middle of the battle. Was that one, steadfast as stone in his loyalty, yet another enemy? The thought was infuriating. "Thulemiz escaped my wrath. His Victors stole from me hundreds of soldiers. This is your fault...YOUR CURSE STOPPED ME FROM CLEAVING THEM ALL ASUNDER!" Ialu uttered low to his breath. He was facing a figurine that bore the likeness of Ferghus, looming over a small anvil.
Ialu hardly was human anymore; he had no desire for food or drink, heat or warmth. His form appeared twisted and demonic, as tall as any man and then half again. A brawny hand with calluses as tough as iron bands reached out to grasp the figurine's head, and with a small squeeze, he crushed the head of the little metal statuette. As the metal crumpled in his grasp sharp points dug into his hands, but they could do him no harm. He was invincible! He was God-King!'
Suddenly Ialu went into a tunnel vision, and then all that he saw faded away into blackness. A moment later, he found himself on top of a mountain's peak. Everything about the mountain and the dreary sky around were black and white. Of course, that was except for the golden figure that stood at the very top of the peak, a few mere feet away. His strange dreams were back again. It had been a long time since he had last been plagued in his sleep, actually, a long time since he had slept at all...
He recalled the last time when he was unable to so much as even look at the golden figure that loomed before him, and before that when its sheer light had been enough to blow him off the mountain. Now, he could weather the light and perceive what was before him, though he was still unable to look directly at the figure. His gaze drifted downwards. There were steps carved into the rocky peak, leading up to the figure. Try as he might to bound up ten or fifteen steps at once with his great leaps, the demigod found himself forced to trudge up one by one.
As he came closer, the shining light above spoke to him, "Put aside your petty feud with the Forge God. Obey the Sight and your own ambitions. Harken not to the every whim of the 'Mighty One', for you know that I am your only true master."
Enraged, Ialu roared out, "Who are you to command me, nameless one?"
There was a horrendous shaking. The entire mountain moved and the air throbbed as something emanated from within the shining being. It was laughter. Seemingly bemused, it replied, "And how might you defy Me when you cannot even match my Gaze?"
After a short pause it at last revealed itself, "I am Ambition, Pride, Greed. I am your Future, of course.
The blinding light of the figure vanished and Ialu found himself awake and in the real world once more, back as quickly as he had left. His burning gaze was still directed at the ruined idol to Ferghus, but heeding his dream, he put the thing back down and used him magic to quickly repair it. It was then that the smith entered his hut, surprised to see the God-King there.
The loyal smith fell to a knee in reverence, the scraps of metal he had salvaged from the battle being allowed to clatter to the floor as he released his grip upon the things. Before the smith could speak, Ialu did. "I have come looking for you. Littered on the Battlefield, was there a great suit of armor too big for any man, empty inside?
The smith stammered for a moment before managing to ask, "God-King, do you speak of Rejys, the Arma Igna that fought with the enemy?"
Ialu nodded. That was the very one that he had wondered about. He hadn't seen the Arma Igna anywhere on the battlefield, though he was sure that the thing would have been there.
The smith answered, "No, he was not amongst the fallen. Though afterwards there was a Garakain soldier who claimed to have seen the Arma Igna locked in battle with the one called 'Cassios'. Mighty One permitting, our great warrior still lives after that duel for the ages." The smith quivered in fear at the mention of Cassios, or perhaps simply at the continued presence of Ialu.
The demigod answered, "Troubling. The Mighty One indeed did seem to favor Cassios. Return to work, O loyal one. As we melt down the armor of our slain foes and reforge it into our own, we grow ever stronger. The Mighty One no doubt looks fondly upon your work.
The compliment clearly meaning much to that one true follower of Ialu, the demigod turned and left. It rang hollow with Ialu, however, as his faith not what it once was. Though he hadn't realized it until his dream, he had already begun to care more and more for his self, and less for the Mighty One... There was a time when he would not have dared to cal himself God-King and demand worship alongside the Mighty One, but even now he felt the prayers empowering him. It was too late to turn back.
He returned to the Strong Tribe's village, marching through the gates and up the hill to his Mighty Cottage. He called for his closest men and the chieftains of all the tribes beneath him. He would once again returned north to Garakai, though this time to fight the brother of his first foe; however, he had several matters to attend to before he left. It was no matter; a demigod had all the time in the world, and with every passing day he grew stronger. He would allow Aztoc to break for perhaps another week, growing content and bold. Then Ialu would be upon him like Death itself, his rage unstoppable.
-Big deal with more of his strange dreams. -Ialu finally put aside his disdain for Ferghus. He's still not a fan of the guy, though. -He has some stuff with his lands and people that need his attention, and after he's handled that he's going to go back to Garakai to face Aztoc. -His previously implacable faith in the Mighty One is seemingly waning.
Although very confused with the Dragon Lord Kanros took the thing that Sauranath had summoned and took a bite of it and chewed on it and let himself divulge in its taste it tasted sweet and delicious it reminded him of a time when he was much younger than he was at the moment.
Kanros loved this food that Sauranath had taught him of and he would ask often for it because it tasted like the sweetest fruit in the world, he realized as he had been so entranced that Sauranath had taken on a more Humanoid form but Kanros did not mention about the change as he started to speak.
"I thank you my Lord for giving me this gift but is this truly what I get from the endeavour that I just faced!"
Kanros asked as he took another bite of the food.
"I do thank you deeply for this great pleasantry that you have let me know of!"
Kanros nodded with a smile and wiped the delectable remnants of the food of his face and he threw the crumbs into his mouth and ate the last portion of his food while he waited for Sauranath's reply.
"Here is a boon, you can have the choice between a great weapon, a great power bestowed on you, or I can grant you higher status in your bloodline. It would be your choice, as I am an avatar, and I"m not sure how good either of those would be for you. Maybe you could enlighten me as you make your decision? I can make you a weapon of your choice, like I said, and grant an enchantment you would find pleasant. The power bestowed on you would grant you a higher charismatic drive towards your adherents (Worshipers in most cases), and lastly the higher status is just instantly boosted power. I might, on reflection, choose the charismatic drive to gather more power in the long term. It's a lot less effort on your part, and I truly appreciate the demonstration of your awesome battle skills. Only Ialu could match that strength, precision, speed and reflexes."
He breathed deeply and exhaled normal air, although very forcefully, almost enough to knock a great hero off his feet and send him sprawling or even air born for a dozen yards. This man named Vestus was one of the most interesting mighty doers in the world. "So, Vestus, I can see that your strength is so much better than any other, you could make an Empire that spans the entire Western world. (Eh, stay out of Orabakh, please). Would it be advantageous for you if we stayed in close negotiations? I could occasionally grant support for your Empire, for equitable prices and sometimes for no reason".
With Zera having gone, Vowzra hung in the spaces above Galbar for a while, and watched with barely restrained scorn as his children fought amongst themselves. It did not please him at all, but he did not care very much to put an end to their squabbling.
It was then that Vowzra sensed the change in the planet and received Escre's message. He wondered if he should aid his brother, but within Vowzra was no pressing need to do any such thing. He felt betrayed by Fate, it had ignored his work and fooled him. He would not go out of his way to aid anyone - let Fate do that if it thought itself so great...
-Escre finds a horse with a particularly strong spirit in the battlefield of the Battle of Man's Fall. -He decides to make it a demigod to serve as the bringer of light to new worlds. -Horse gets renamed to Ull'yang.
As Escre approached Galbar, it felt a certain apathy settle over it. For the moment, it wanted nothing whatsoever to do with the gods, merely to sink into another form and spend some time among the living things that it had helped to create. Certain measures would have to be taken, however, to prevent the further corruption of souls while the Astral Home was being cleansed. The Great Spirit held up its lantern, and reached into its reserves of power to reroute the link established in the Astral Home. After a few hours, the flow had been changed; until the Astral Home was fit to channel the spirits of the planet once more, the dead souls would be drawn into the lantern, like so fireflies dancing around in the glass.
With that out of the way, Escre descended to the surface. Mercifully, nothing yet appeared overly changed. Perhaps Vestec had sensed how deep he was reaching and, reasoning that, without anything left pure he'd have nothing left to corrupt, backed off. The robes and armor of the god shimmered and became a traveler's cloak, hat, and pantaloons--its Nightwalker form. It felt the rush of air through its nostrils, and found it most tolerable. With that, Escre began to walk. It had certain goals in mind -a loose end in particular to tie up- but did not rush itself overmuch.
Until now, Escre had been able to boast only a cursory awareness of the great war among humans recently waged, given that its attention had been seized by the crisis enveloping the planet's core, that singularity of life it held so dear, the Astral Home. With that more or less taken care of by nothing less than the gods of gods themselves, and with time to spare, Escre felt it could permit itself to wander Galbar's surface in relative tranquility. Having not yet gone to begin its business with Eroneus, whom it planned to empower as a spirit of air, the Great Spirit strode toward the great battleground in the guise of a ghastly human in flowing cloak, wide-brimmed hat, and gray complexion.
When it arrived at the battlefield, it was more than a little surprised. Life and death were two sides of the same coin, a coin flipped by Escre and very well known to it, but to see such a flippant squandering of life did not please the Great Spirit. It stalked, a specter of the battlefield, among the corpses, some long dead and pecked out by crows, some butchered beyond recognition, and some still alive--though a life inches away from death's door, crippled beyond repair and bleeding out liter by crimson liter, was hardly a life at all. Escre wasted no time in vacuuming up these souls into its lantern, so that they may find rest and not be blighted by agony.
It was during this process that Escre stumbled upon a horse. Its back legs were scorched, eliminating its capacity for movement, but the rest of it was still very much alive. The thing's death, Escre saw as his side heaved, would be even ghastlier than the rest. The men on the battlefield were dead of wounds, or loss of blood, or disease, but this horse would have the indignity of dying of thirst. When the Great Spirit waved its lantern over the creature, he discovered that it hosted a very strong spirit. "I... wonder..." Escre murmured, thinking.
When the horns of war were sounded and the banners of the Northern Army were raised, Varamir, what its master came to call it, followed him to battle, carried him on i's back. Through the dense forest they marched, hundreds, thousands of humans along with many other creatures. They plowed through villages and killed many. They conquered.
Varamir was leading a normal life till then, as normal a life a warhorse could live that is. When lunch was due, it ate and when it was tired, he slept. When there was training to be done, he trained and when the time came, it was ready for war. There was no selfishness in its actions. It did what It was asked to do, with the limited amount of understanding it possessed.
The day of the battle was no different. When i's master equipped it with its armor, it became more focused and battle-ready and so, nothing that would have happened from then on could possibly break that.
Or could it? When the two armies faced each other for the first time, Varamir and i's master were placed at the sides of the formation. At first, there was silence. The calm before the storm, as they say. Then... Then there was hell.
At first, Varamir could sense a sudden increase in the temperature, the thought that they would be facing some kind of fire made him a little worried at the start but quickly dismissed it. Little did he know though, the enemy was planning just that. Suddenly and out of nowhere, a great fireball, easily towering even the biggest of human structures Varamir had seen in its short life, was hurled towards them. Instantly there was panic; his brothers and their riders turned around and galloped away from the giant orb of death that was coming towards them, trying to save their lives. Fortunately, his rider chose to save himself and subsequently Varamir by following behind them, but was not as lucky as they were. The fireball unexpectedly exploded, sending innumerable flames to rain down upon the unlucky few who were close to the initial explosion.
Varamir was one of those unlucky few. The rain of flames found its target and the horse's back legs were thoroughly burned. With all the momentum that he had gathered though, there was only one direction he could go, forward. He fell with such force that both of its knees in its front legs were broken and several of its ribs fractured. Its rider? He was sent flying off his mount and crashing on the dirt headfirst.
After that, everything went blurry for Varamir. The fight continued, however, the clashing of swords on the background continued. Nonetheless, the pain was too much and the warhorse's efforts to remain conscious were in vain.
Escre stretched out its left hand. It had one companion already in its planned galactic travel--the Birdbrother, the bringer of air, not yet a demigod. To fill other worlds with wonder and marvel, however, another ingredient was necessary. Kneeling, the Great Spirit touched Varamir's side, and its hand reached into the skin until it felt the horse's heart. There, Escre began to make changes.
In his dream, Varamir stood in a stony realm. It was an eternal city, as empty as it was ornate, ancient and monolithic. More lively than the surroundings was the wind, and the birds uplifting by it, dancing in the eternal sunset. Before the horse floated a ghostly phantom, part cloth and part metal, with strange, pale eyes and a purpose.
"Brave one. It is time for your darkness to recede forever. Wake, like the rising sun, and shine"
The dream faded. Escre, the nightwalker, the divinity with a human face, stood in a quiet field of death. But it did not stand alone.
Seconds, minutes, hours passed, but Varamir would not wake. The pain from the burns and his other injuries had numbed the poor horse completely. It went into a dreamlike state with few being the times it would slip back into consciousness before fainting yet again. In this state was where he found himself in a realm of stone. Varamir looked around and marveled at the world he had found himself in. There were buildings, houses of sorts with ornate exteriors that even the finest of stone sculptors would never dare to claim as their own, mostly out of fear but as well as awe.
As it walked, it was suddenly faced with a ghostly figure. Varamir backed away from the figure out of pure instinct, but soon discovered that it was not actually afraid of this phantom. That was when it spoke. When the first words came out of the ghosts mouth, Varamir instantly felt like it was showered with warmth and could only appreciate what had been given to him. The horse bowed his head as the figure faded away and with it the dream as well.
He slowly opened his eyes and raised his head, looking around at the battlefield, his previous home. Countless dead and even more injured lay around him, but his eyes could only see one thing. His savior.
Varamir stood up in his four legs and spread his newly-acquired wings. "You, who have given me this gift, this second opportunity at life. I am forever in your debt," he said and bowed his head before the man once more.
"This... power you have given me; I am not worthy of it."
"You question my judgment? Foolishness, Ull'yang. Foolishness. You are well suited to the purpose I have chosen for you. Just as with the future Birdbrother, I will teach you about responsibility and power, and you will teach me about emotion and creativity, for I have likened your mind to a human's. We will travel together, us three, through the universe, and bring light, air, and life to a thousand worlds. But I have other business to take care of before we depart; one other mortal to give half the power of a god. In the meantime, stretch your wings, and bring light to a planet long beset by darkness. If in your travels you encounter a multicolored being of malice, Vestec the Execrable one, I implore you treat him as a dire adversary, and if you meet a dark-haired goddess in white, know that she has surrendered herself to Vestec's malfeasance. Rise, Ull'yang. It is time for you to fly."
"Very well. Varamir no longer walks this land. Only Ull'yang remains. I will carry on with the mission you have bestowed upon me and see to it that all darkness is expelled from this planet," he said and with a last bow of his head, spread his wings and flew towards the horizon.
Grandmaster Thulemiz, Son of the Celestial Above, Champion of Chaos Level 23 Hero, 37 Khookies
A Partial Collab between Scarifar and Kho
Rejys is taken by Hikat and Alfid to Mt. Vulcan
Ferghus repairs him and offers Rejys and his Victors a quest - if they bring him the Blade of Chaos, he will grant Rejys great power
Rejys is granted invulnerability to Wi and is promised more power when the Blade is broght to Ferghus
Thulemiz breaks Cassios and turns him into his servant
Rejys creates a metal throne with a suit of armour on it for the comatose Thulemiz, in which he is then interred.
Thulemiz declares that they must all go to Sviebard.
'How is the Battle Br- the Grandmaster?' one of them - Zarkin - asked. 'His condition has stabilised. It remains critical, but the chances that he he will survive, in some manner, are high,' came the confident response from Hikat. It had become clearer over time that, of the Silent Six, Hikat and Greyus displayed the greatest intuition and leadership capabilities. The others had less of their natural charisma, but each was certainly unique and a boon to what remained of Vowzra's Victors. 'And Battle Brother Rejys?' asked Alfid. A small silence met this before Hikat responded. 'He does not appear conscious...or even alive.' 'What is to be done, Silent Brother?' Alfid asked again. Hikat's response came faster this time. 'You and I must take him to the mountain of the Fiery One, immediately. There we can seek help for our fallen Battle Brother,' Alfid bowed his head. 'And what of the other?' Dreyus asked, referring to Cassios. 'He is currently with the Grandmaster, as he...requested,' Greyus said. It had not been a normal request, for the Grandmaster was not yet conscious. It had come in the form of a distant voice in their minds, commanding them first to return Cassios with them to the Mountain's Crown, and then to leave the Executioner with him in the infirmary. They had all sensed strange energies radiating from there, but they had not dared check. They knew the workings of chaos when they sensed them, and they needn't get any closer than necessary. Hikat and Alfid bowed to the others before melting away into nothingness.
Almost immediately, they reappeared before the silent and broken form of Rejys. Each of them taking him by an arm, the air around them shimmered once more and they disappeared once more, appearing before the hulking form of another Arma Igna - Robbie. And he spake thus: 'What fiendish creatures from the Warps of Time emerge, Unveiling here before Us, 'pon this hallowed ground converge.'
The two Outsiders bowed respectfully to the guard of Mount Vulcan before Hikat spoke in response. 'We come with a brother of yours and a Battle Brother of ours. We bring him here to the Fiery One, his creator, that he may breathe the fires of life back into him,'
Robbie wasted no time telepathically contacting Ferghus about the situation, "Fiery One, there is an Arma Igna here who requires your immediate attention." A moment later, a column of flames emerged from the ground next to Robbie, and the Avatar of Ferghus appeared when the flames dissipated. Ferghus walked over to the suit of armor and knelt down, running a hand over the metal. "How did this happen?" Ferghus asked the two Outsiders.
'High One, the people of southern Arguilla, led by Grandmaster Thulemiz of Vowzra's Victors, were ambushed by the forces of the northern warlord, Ialu,' Hikat responded, 'and during the melee our Battle Brother Rejys went up against the Executioner, Cassios, whom he fought until he had victory. But victory came at a terrible price, as you can see. His metal armour has been severly damaged and it appears that his life energy has been completely extinguished,' Hikat was silent as the god of the Forge surveyed the heavily damaged suit of armour.
Ferghus peered into the suit of armor, looking for the spark of life he had placed inside it when Rejys was first created. Ferghus found it, but the spark was very faint, almost undetectable even by his standards. Ferghus breathed a gentle stream of fire into it, letting it grow once more. Rejys soon woke, and could sense the presence of his creator before him. Rejys tried to utter an honorable greeting, but no sound came out. "He's lucky," Ferghus told the Outsiders. "If he got here even a minute later, his spark of life would have died out and even I would have been unable to save him."
Ferghus then raised his hand, and flames appeared in his palm. They took the shape of a hammer, and the mighty hammer Pyrkagia appeared when the flames dissipated. Ferghus struck Rejys with his hammer, and the holes and scratches around the impact were repaired as if the armor was never damaged in the first place. A few more impacts, and Rejys was fully repaired. Rejys then sat up and took a kneeling position in front of Ferghus, saying, "Fiery One, it is an honor to be in your presence once more, and for restoring my life. You have my eternal gratitude."
"Yes, of course. You can stand up now," Ferghus said dismissively. "Now, I noticed a very distinct name earlier. 'Ialu', I believe it was." At the mention of his name, Robbie clenched his fingers. "Seems he's still causing trouble, even with the curse I placed upon him," Ferghus remarked.
Hikat nodded and responded in the affirmative. 'Indeed, High One, he gathered a mighty army and has now conquered the greater part of the Realm of Man. From the north of Arguilla, down to the Confederate territories, his word is now supreme and are enslaved to his will.' Rejys, now on his feet, looked down at his metal palms, and the Outsider could tell that the great Arma Igna was in a rather melancholy mood. 'It was... it was my fault,' he said slowly, his voice monotonous but his life spirit revealing his feelings of guilt clearly, 'If I had been more powerful then perhaps Zerabil and I could have taken that demonic creature.'
"Rejys, you were never designed to fight in a battle like that," Ferghus explained. "Your original purpose was to teach others about the art of blacksmithing. Even your body wouldn't be able to take the punishment it did. Frankly, you're lucky to even still be alive." Ferghus sighed, then continued, "I can, of course, make some upgrades to your body, but it will come at a price."
Upon hearing this, Rejys fell to one knee and spoke reverently. 'Fiery One, there is no price I would not pay if it means protecting those who...who mean something to me. To never watch helplessly as my comrades fall all around me. If power will ensure that the values I have developed will not be quashed by the merciless and cruel, then I will pay an price you ask of me,' he remained on his knee once he had finished speaking, prepared for whatever it was his creator requested of him.
Ferghus listened to every word his creation had spoken. "Hmm... I believe your feelings are genuine," Ferghus said. Ferghus gave the matter a moment's thought, then said, "Ok, how about this? I'll give you and your Battle Brothers a quest. That 'Ialu' fellow has in his possession a rather unique weapon, created the same day the gods were created. The Blade of Chaos, I believe it is called." Ferghus paused to think for a moment, then continued, "It can change shape according to its wielder, so finding it may prove difficult. However, it does seem to have a rather unique chaotic aura. Be careful when you touch it."
Looking up, Rejys turned his armoured head towards Hikat who was silent for a few seconds before nodding. 'We will do as you ask, High One. This Blade of Chaos will not go undetected by The Seers of the Silent Six for long. We will find it, and we will bring it for you as payment, even if it takes us months and years,' once Hikat stopped speaking, it was the other Seer, Alfid, who spoke up. 'But High One, finding the Blade will take some time, will Rejys have to bring it to you before you make him battleworthy? We may well need his skills in battle very soon. The warlord Ialu will not rest long, he is certain to come searching for us before long, unsatisfied that some of the Victors yet survive,' his voice was not quite pleading, but there was a certain note of desperation in it.
"Knowing him, I'm not surprised," Ferghus muttered. Ferghus gave it some more thought, then said, "Very well, I shall increase his capability a bit. Rejys, hold still." Ferghus extended his arm, and emitted the same orange energy he used on Robbie, the energy then getting absorbed into Rejys' body. "There, you are now immune to Wi, or at least telekinesis. Knowing Ialu's curse, he'll be unable to use physical weapons, so Wi is his only real form of attack left. As for your body, well, try not to get too beat up again. You'll get a better upgrade upon the delivery of the Blade of Chaos."
Though he did not feel any different, Rejys knew the words of Ferghus to be true. He would have The Silent Six scour the northern lands for this weapon. They would certainly find it, he knew, and when they did, he would return and pay the lord of the Forge in full. 'I thank you for your charity and mercy, Fiery One,' the Arma Igna said, 'I will return with this Blade and I shall honour this agreement that we have made this day,' with that, he raised his armoured fist into the air before lowering it to his chest in the salute of the Victors. The two Seers of the Silent Six bowed respectfully before each of them took Rejys by an arm and the air around them shimmered slightly. Then they were gone.
***
Inside the infirmary in the Mountain's Crown, the unconscious Thulemiz lay naked but for a loincloth around his pelvis. His physical body was scarred, the latest being that of Ialu - a burn mark running over his chest area, just over his heart. The skin had healed quickly, but the vicious scar remained. Despite the many scars, his body was oddly unblemished and had a white, marble-like quality to it, as though he had truly been sculpted from stone. His muscles were full and powerful, and his breathing - though he was still unconscious - deep and very much alive.
Before the small bed he lay upon was Cassios, on his knees, whimpering slightly. He was still in his armour, though his helmet had been removed. In the rather small infirmary, he was something of a giant. However, his great size and daunting aura only made his whimpering the more degrading. Those who looked with eyes alone would not have understood the scene before them - one who did not know Thulemiz and Cassios may have even thought the man was simply grieving for the unconscious Thulemiz. But such could not be further from the truth. The Seers of the Silent Six, however, could see. Even from beyond the walls of the infirmary, the could hear the screams of Cassios' soul as the warped and grotesque soul of Thulemiz assaulted it, attempting to bend it to its well.
'Who is your Lord?' came the snarling voice of Thulemiz, hammered forcefully into Cassios' mind, 'who is he?!' Cassios' response came faint and weak, almost undetectable. 'He...who is in Garakai...king,' even his soul was sputtering out each word, as though there was an impossible weight upon him. 'Is not he who cherishes and sustains you your Lord?' came Thulemiz's voice once more, this time coaxing and persuasive, attempting to lead Cassios away from his convictions. 'N-no...' he stuttered, 'only- only he who is in Garakai...king.'
At this response, Thulemiz's soul swelled out terrible and penetrated Cassios' own, wreaking untold havoc upon the miserable man. 'Who is it! Who is it that is in Garakai king? Who is it?' the burning chaotic tendrils of the chaos champion's soul seized upon Cassios and slowly tormented him. 'It is...it is Ial-' 'NO!' came the torment of words. 'Uh...Azt-' 'NO!' came the whip of words. 'V-Visca-' 'NO!' came the burning letters which consumed Cassios' very reason in that moment of infinite pain. 'Y...you,' he croaked at last. 'And who am I?' the torment disappeared and the words were now silk and hands which gently stroked Cassios' face and caressed his hair. 'T-the Lord,' he whispered. 'And who is the Lord?' came the meaningful voice. 'Thulemiz.'
Cassios suddenly stopped whimpering, and his head rose up. He was still trembling slightly at the shadow of memory which yet remained of what had just been. But that quickly disappeared as his new convictions settled in and became just as deeply ingrained as the old - for they were the old. He looked upon the unconscious Thulemiz, his eyes full of loyalty and conviction - for this was Thuelmiz, the true ruler, supreme warlord and king of Garakai.
After the great battle with the northerners, the people of Thulemiz had been greatly decreased. five hunted Victores massacred and four hundred citizen soldiers too, along with three hundred camp followers lost to Ialu. There was nothing left now but one hundred humans - the weakest, the old, the unable. And there were also two hundred Uri whom Thulemiz had commanded to remain behind. In addition to that, there were the Silent Six, Rejys and Thulemiz himself. Though Thulemiz could hardly do much. Certainly, he was very much alive and his magical capabilities were very much intact, but he appeared to be in a permanent comatose state, and his damaged soul was not helping his maddened state. Neither were the chaotic energies he had gained due to absorbing Vestec's diluted blood, or Ialu's own blood which had made him an ever more emotional creature, with the slightest power over the emotions of those around him.
'Go and command Rejys to create for my body a vessel,' Thulemiz commanded. Cassios bowed before his master before leaving to find the Arma Igna. When he found him, the suit of armour was looking in the greatest of condition. He almost set upon Cassios when he saw him free, but Hikat quickly explained to the Arma Igna that Cassios had been...changed. Getting to work, Rejys left the Silent Six to speak amongst themselves.
'We must find this Blade of Chaos. It is in the warlord's possession. One of us must go,' Hikat looked around, on the verge of nominating himself. Before he could, however, Greyus stepped forward and declared himself the one to do it. There were no objections and he did not remain to hear any, for he shimmered and was gone.
As the sun set that day, the Silent Brothers carried Thulemiz' body to the courtyard where Rejys had brought forth a large metal throne. Upon the throne sat a great suit of armour. Thulemiz's body was placed into the armour and all watched for a few seconds before a sudden burst of Wi set the throne and armour aglow. It vibrated with black and red energies before it lifted from the ground and levitated before the remaining Victors and citizens of the Mountain's Crown.
'We must depart this land, for it is cursed. We shall to the land of the Cold One go, and there we shall prepare,'
The great crystalline dragon is an enormous serpentine like freak of strength and intelligence. He soared throughout the world, wondering at the odd things of the world. The armies involving themselves in conflicts, with the population of the mortals finally beginning to reach a significant level, they poured themselves into combat, some using the art of Wi, the others using spells and wizardry to fight. The dragon soared throughout the skies looking down below himself. . . noticing that the problem of dragon slayers continued. The Strong Tribe was going to be paid a visit. . . Ialu was more powerful even than Mirtagn, but negotiations would begin now. A resounding voice was heard throughout the Strong Tribe. . . Mirtagn breathed crystalline empowered breath, which would, no doubt, beggin shredding enemies to pieces. Mirtagn soared throughout the skies above the town, with magical barriers rose up against Wi slinging and counter spells already on him, warding him from attack and incantation.
This dragon, wise and powerful, beautiful and full of reflection in his voice was clearly enraged. Mirtagn screamed, this scream was supernaturally filling all who heard it, except the children, the old and other civilians or already injured people inside their homes. . . they heard the roar naturally, instead of an ear bleeding scream. "If you think this is bad, just think what should happen if the Avatar or personal Dragon Lord himself will be against your mortal forces. Ialu himself will sooner become dust or a bleached white sepulcher of bones before his might." By this time nearly all the defenders other than civilians were incapacitated. "We spare your children, your old, and your harmless."
Mirtagn, "The dragons do not suffer assaults upon their roosts lightly. Our old are growing more and more in power, and I am one of them. Take though, your insane babbling and hyper frivolous boasts into another world."Mirtagn was soaking himself through with excess energy, glowing and shining into it'self, with a magical glare that was an ability to temporarily blind the people inside the town. "We are your stars, not your wives for you to beat, foul creatures of the world below. Mirtagn conjured the shadows to restrain the soldiers and the warriors, the magicians once again found themselves with other hindrances, such as mysterious disembodies arms and their fiercely strong grips restraining them, pulling them into the ground, not to kill but to black out through injury, any domesticated animal rebelled against their owners, not causing injury but leaving the homestead and lashing out at soldiers.
Mirtagn swooped downwards towards the little creatures scurrying around like ants. Buildings were burning down. "Evacuate your civilians, your children, your maimed, your old and loved ones". The Glaring Serpent commanded the soldiers down below. . . "NOW!!!" The roar was loud enough to kill a Human body, but the screaming was focused strongly in order to only effect the structures. . . Mirtagn had seen the stone structures in other settlements and towns. . . Mirtagn's scream was powerful enough to shatter wood, stone, and even metal. . . The effects of his magic made it very difficult for Wi users and sorcerers to concentrate, and Mirtagn breathed deeply, exhaling fire into the tribe. . . "I am tired of suffering your tribe the right to call themselves dragon slayers. Cease your boasting, your revelry and insanity, or The Dragon Lord will come and make this warning seem like a child's night time weeping. Sauranath is waiting for your replies, nation of the strong. Do not disappoint him, or you may face something a little unpleasant." With that Mirtagn flew off into the skies above, to return to his Star, which he used as an Observatory to see onto the world below. "Negotiations begin now."
With that Sauranath opened up his eye into Ialu, causing him to have a vision."Speak here, and make known your answers. We demand an end to your pointless hunting of the Star Children, which you wear like a beastly made raiment. Sauranath does not care that you are only seeking dozens or scores of his children to massacre, he shall retaliate in kind if it is the time to strike back."
A collab between Lugubrious and Inuyasha: Introducing Eroneus, the Birdbrother
Not so long after it had saved the lift and elevated the existence of a certain, lucky horse, Escre approached an agricultural settlement. Ever since it had first taken note of a certain someone, a mental link had connected man to divinity, and now on the eve on the great journey, Escre saw fit to tie up that loose end. And now, as it skirted the fringes of a farm, its senses told it that certain human resided within. Escre hauled itself up and seated itself on the fence, waiting for the farmer to take notice of it. ---
A cool breeze licked the back of Eroneus boots, which dug into the dirt as he picked wheat crops with avidity. He wiped sweat from his brow, looking up to the glaring, beating sun and the azure sky. A pidgeon circled overhead, cooing softly. After a swooping by several times, the pidgeon, little by little, dipped and declined in the air until he accomodated himself promptly on the top of the wooden handle of Eroneus' sickle. Eroneus reached in his breast pocket for some bread crumbs, offering them up to the pidgeon, watching the bird with attentive and observant eyes. The pidgeon cocked it's head pompusly, turning it's beak up high to the bread crumbs. "Oh just take it you spoiled bastard," muttered Eroneus. Almost as if the pidgeon could understand him, he began pecking at the crumbs, gobbling them all. When he was finished he looked at Eroneus inquisitively, as if to say More? "No my friend, you ate my last couple of crumbs," he said, petting the bird's black feathery head. The pidgeon, apperantly satisfied, flew off, the green and purple feathers around his neck glimmering in the sunlight.
With the sun still glaring at him, Eroneus cut his last crop down with his hardy sickle, bagged it, and began walking back to his farm. Eroneus carried the sack behind his farm house, throwing it in a pile of filled sacks. It was where they kept all the freshly picked wheat, and he and his father would have to thresh it later to be stored in the granaries. Wheat was in high demand these days, so his family made a decent coin, and was not that bad off. Out here in the country side, you didn't see a lot of trouble. As Eroneus rounded the farm house, he saw a ghastly man with a wide brimmed hat and a long flowing dark cloak. "Holy lord..." mumbled Eroneus, as a very heavy headache set into his scalp.
It always intrigued the god of Life to see bonds forming between humans and animals. By all logic, they shouldn't exist, but like invading grasses they grew quietly beneath the apparent surface until they breached the soil of reason, their verdant lengths showing how closely the two disparate souls had connected. For some time, the pale eyes of the warden had been affixed to this particular farmer, at first out of chance, but then out of fascination. Now, looking upon him as he staggered from the headache that accompanied Escre's presence, the Great Spirit knew it to be a fortuitous time. Life on Galbar would forever be in the purview of other gods' meddling, but the universe was vast, vast even for a divinity. And after conducting a rudimentary analysis of the human mind, Escre had decided that it did not want to travel alone.
Languidly, the cloaked figure jumped down from the fence. It tipped its hat to the farmer, and the headache subsided. "Good day to you," it said genially enough as it approached. "You recognize me from the dreams, and know why I have come. I entreat you, however, do not grovel before me. No god deserves that sort of praise." Escre stood with its hands clasped in front of it, a slight, warm breeze stirring its clothes. Eyes and teeth flickered in its cloak, momentarily visible, but they did not stir. "How would you like to go on a great journey, Eroneus?"
The question resounded in Eroneus' head, pinging around the walls of his mind, reverberating in his cerebrum. The question caused a memory to resurface, once which was far suppressed, deeply withheld in his memory. He saw flashes: his mother and father fighting, his father hitting his mother, Eroneus hiding away on the hill that overlooks his house. A bluejay sat on his hand, and Eroneus pet it lightly with his index finger. Eroneus had always believed that birds had an uncanny empathy and understanding of human emotions -- and it was his belief that Bluejay was attempting to comfort him from the day's dejection. As the sun set that day, casting a warm crimson glow on the farm, the Bluejay flew off into the sunset. The sun drowned into the horizon, bleeding it's last rays of light into the stratosphere, and the Bluejay, beatific as ever, danced into the sky. Never before had Eroneus ever wanted to fly away from all of his problems... just like the Bluejay had. To slip the surly bonds of Earth and to pirouette the sky with silvered wings; to feel the wind ripple through his hair as he soared. With a very glazed look in his eyes, Eroneus responded, "Yes. Yes I would."
"Then let us begin." Escre knelt, and placed its hand on the ground. Around the two men, the world suddenly began to splinter, breaking apart and spiraling away into a tumultuous, multicolored void, like a world of dream. Shades of white and red washed over them, each altering the terrain to the tune of the planet's beating heart, until with a final pulsation the two stood in a different realm. It was a sprawling city, ancient and heavy with omen, but its air was no longer still, and neither was the sun a departing, burnt-orange sliver on the horizon. A hearty breeze washed through the eternal city, carrying feelings of vigor, and birds with strange shapes. Overhead, the sky was spotted with stars and nebula, all of them shining brightly and without diminishing one another in an incredible, celestial display of light. Escre wore robes now, and dark armor inlaid with gold. "This...this is the Spirit World. All living things must come here eventually. It was once a realm devoid, nothing more than stone and sunset, eternally on the brink of something special but never quite there. But two new rhythms have come into being: a chorus of light, and an aria of wind. The latter came first, beginning when I made contact with you, and from that moment I knew that you would rise. If the reverberations of the souls of two mortals can bring such excellence to the Spirit World, I knew that they would bring far more to the waking world. So Ull'yang, the bringer of light, has risen. And so you, Eroneus, the birdbrother, must rise. Now rise up, like the streaming air, and flow."
The Spirit World vanished. Escre, in its Nightwalker attire, stood just inside the fence of a farm. It was a hot day, but a cheery and refreshing breeze had arisen, for Escre did not stand alone. Before it stood a man with purpose, power, and golden wings.
A screaming white light blinded Eroneus. Lightning coursed through Eroneus' veins, his bloodflow pulsating in unison with the expeditiously swift beat of his heart. He felt ethereal and celestial, and when he focused he could feel the wind breathing and speaking to him. He could feel the cool air around him, he felt a great connection to it. He felt the air particles scampering, breathing, feeling. And most of all, he could hear them; the Birds. An incessant chirping filled his ears, it's volume rising in decibles until it became near deafening. Suddenly and abruptly, the chirping stopped. The silence stung. He could feel it now; he was at one with the air. Slowly, Eroneus regained his vision, seeing double as his eyes swung into focus. He felt odd for a brief moment, as if he had extra muscles or something, but then he felt right, almost as if he was in a perfect existence, the odd feeling quickly dispelled. That's when he realized what it was: he had a large set of golden, shimmering wings.
He tried to speak, and for a very long while nothing came out of his mouth. Finally, he mustered up a greatful, "Thank you." He was at peace, and he felt a great power at his finger tips. The air coursed through his soul, bring him true nirvana.
The Great Spirit inclined its head. "Indeed. We will travel together, us three, through the universe, and bring light, air, and life to a thousand worlds. But I have other business to take care of before we depart. In the mean time, stretch your wings, and weave a good air over a planet stifled by war. If in your travels you encounter a multicolored being of malice, Vestec the Execrable one, I implore you treat him as a dire adversary, and if you meet a dark-haired goddess in white, know that she has surrendered herself to Vestec's malfeasance. Rise now, Eroneus. It is time for you to fly."
-Roxan talks to Tesvec -Tesvec reveals the location of his eggs -Roxan takes them to the island, which pisses Astarte off
Later, around ten o'clock that night, Roxan arrived on silent wings. Landing at the base of a tree in a crouched position, she noticed that her nails were more like claws, and had turned black.
My powers must be growing, she thought. Vestec warned me that this what happens, eventually. Straightening, she approached the dragon calmly and said quietly, "Don't startle yourself-tis only me, Roxan." She knew of a dragon's almost impenetrable hide, and wondered if it was impervious to her deadly touch.
If not, she decided she would remedy that.
Tesvec looked around, slowly stretching his wings. "Mistress Astarte would not like that, Miss Roxan-" He said with a shaky voice. It was sad and pitiful, seeing a mighty beast like him completely broken and tamed. "My offspring, they... They're the Mistress', she made it clear. She wouldn't like it if I gave them to you like that."
Roxan smiled. "I don't like grudges, especially when they are held against me. I'm here to offer your child safety from Astarte, and in return, you let me raise it all by myself." She hummed softly as she sat down and leaned against the tree, her arm resting on her right knee, which was drawn up while the other stretched out.
"Normally, I wouldn't risk pissing a goddess off, but I feel that this way would be better for both of us."
Tesvec looked around, slowly stretching his wings. "Mistress Astarte would not like that, Miss Roxan-" He said with a shaky voice. It was sad and pitiful, seeing a mighty beast like him completely broken and tamed. "My offspring, they... They're the Mistress', she made it clear. She wouldn't like it if I gave them to you like that."
Roxan's eyes glittered. Poor beast, he was so scared of the goddess, and to be honest, she didn't blame him. She thought for a moment.
"Aye," she agreed. "She wouldn't, would she? You could tell her that I stole them when you weren't looking, and it's very possible. My wings are that of a black owl, and everyone knows how silent owl wings are." She grinned. "it's not that unfathomable."
Tesvec shook his head, avoiding eye contact with Roxan, "It's not... It's not..." He nearly whispered. In a swift movement, he perked up and looked all around him, "Mistress?"
There was no response, and he turned to Roxan with emergency and pleading in his eyes.
"Take them. They're in a cave on the side of a mountain to the northeast of here. It's half a day's flight from here. You'll know where it is when you see the body of my mate, if it's still there." Tesvec grew more agitated by the moment. He flapped his huge wings once, sending a gust of wind and dirt in all directions.
"Take them, the both of them, please. Take them far away from here, sell them if you will, just make sure the Mistre-" His voice cracked, and he choked up, "M-Make sure the Mistress doesn't find them!" Tears started flowing, and he stood tall. The moonlight reflected off his teary cheeks.
Roxan kneeled, like a knight, and bowed her head, fist over her heart, touched. Her once golden eye was now a dark amber color, serious as a gravestone.
"Don't stress, beastie," she said. "I'll not let any harm come to them. You have my word." She then straightened and pulled her glossy black wings out before giving a small jump into the air, streaking off toward the northeast mountain. She would not fail the Dragon, nor would she give the eggs to the goddess, though it could result in injury, or even death. Half a day's flight, she mused. It would be half the night, which would giver her more cover. Her wings would help keep her hidden because of the way the absorbed any light. After about two hours, she felt some kind of disturbance and knew that Astarte had found that Roxan had not showed. She smiled grimly.
Hours passed, and the mountain came closer and closer every minute. Finally, she reached a cave and saw the body of a dragon. And what a beautiful creature she must have been, once. She alighted on the stone warily, checking for signs of danger.
Nothing. She walked on silent feet, following the faint heat that seemed to emanate from somewhere. She had gone a few feet before the heat grew stronger, and she saw the eggs. They were beautiful. Shaped like oval stones, each one was at least a foot long, and colored in marbled patterns. One was slightly bigger, colored with dark blues and silvers, and the other was the color of starbursts; dark reds, oranges and yellows made her flick her hands, black flame coming from them to shape a skull inscribed with vines, her symbol of respect.
She came closer and picked them up, savoring their warmth. The flight there had been cold and windy. She felt the biggest one vibrate in her hands and knew it was close to hatching. Roxan pulled out her black stone and pressed her lips to it, thinking of the island.
She disappeared with a dark, silver and amber flash,laughing almost maniacally. She had pissed the goddess of magic off; it was exhilarating.
Looming on the hill above the other houses in his village was Ialu's own. For something that was commonly called the 'Mighty Cottage' it was rather unimpressive, its height above all else in the grassland being the only thing that made it imposing. From the outside it didn't look that much unlike some of the other houses. Some were nearly as large, and this cottage was made of brown mud bricks like all the rest. It had a flat roof and was square-shaped, again like all the others. What made it different was the lack of any windows to allow light into the gloomy interior. There were only two openings: a simple door, and a small hole in the ceiling above the firepit that dominated the main room.
Ialu entered his seemingly humble abode, throwing open the crude wooden door. The door was neither locked nor guarded in the conventional sense. Nobody dared enter his home uninvited; perhaps it was because the inside was utterly dark, because strange and horrible things were rumored to lurk within, or because word had it that there was little of worth inside anyways. In reality they were all probably too terrified of what might befall them if the terrifying warlord so much as suspected that they had trespassed upon the only place that he claimed as his own.
It would be a while before the men that he had summoned would arrive. That was no matter; he would use this spare time to rest and look over his various collections once again. He was a rather vain and prideful warlord, and his grotesque collections of trophies attested to that.
In any case, Ialu now walked into his home and allowed the darkness within the cottage to engulf him. For a time he had kept a brazier near the door to light candles or splinters of wood that served as makeshift torches. Now he could simply sense his surroundings, light or no. It wasn't as if that mattered much, as he knew every black room and hallway in his little cottage. After passing through a foyer and then another small hall, he found himself within the main room. It was a great and vacuous place, dominating at least half of the house. There was a firepit in the middle of the room and an opening above that allowed in a lonely ray of sun from the world outside. The back of gloomy room had a large throne where Ialu could sit when he held meetings and the others crowded in, while to either side there were other hallways that led to different rooms. Through the left hall was a storage room, and at the end of the right one were living quarters for those others that shared his home.
Something was not right, however...there was an odd odor that pervaded the air. It smelled old like dust and mold, but with a subtle yet unmistakable addition: the foul smell of rot and death, coming from somewhere wet and dark. This was all beneath the normal smell of earth and damp thatching that overwhelmed one's sensed whenever they went into one of the mud brick houses.
The air inside was oppressively dark of course, yet it was also unnaturally still and silent. That was unusual; it had been some time for sure, but where had his concubine gone? Once he had many, but of course a long time had passed and he had found himself rather...busy as of late. There were so many people to gut like fish, and so little time...
The warlord walked into another room and held his fingers to the air. They emanated a pallid light, and in that sickly glow he saw a corpse on the ground along with no small amount of blood. So that was the smell, he thought to himself. Already sensing what he was about to see, he looked with his own eyes anyways. One of his women, her body having been utterly mauled and beginning to decay. The memories suddenly came back, of one of his notoriously violent fits of anger... Had he rally gone into such a rage that he had done this, and then forgotten about it?
Grimacing slightly, he felt a pang of regret. That was a rare feeling indeed for the warlord, but it was short lived. He would give her a proper burial eventually, but for now she needed to be out of the way...using his magic to clean the bloodied floors and the fetid air itself, he slung her over a shoulder and carried her into a dark corner. In the back of that room was a staircase that led down into the lower level of his home, built deep into the hill. His cottage might have been unassuming, but it was hardly humble...he had a labyrinth of hidden tunnels dug into the hill, down in the basement below.
At the bottom of the staircase was a small armory, outfitted with all manner of swords, knives, axes, and spears. It was a fine collection for any warrior. Nearby was also a room with his clothing and armor, though that array was considerably less impressive. He didn't value armor much; most times he could kill someone before they could even touch him, and when they did, so what? Armor for a demigod was pointless.
Beyond that were his favorite collections...his trophies of war and hunting. One wall was lined with skulls. There were bears, deer, Dyun, even a few human ones. The largest of them all was the skull of the first dragon he had slain; however, that was not his favorite. The pride of that collection was at the very end, though it looked rather unimpressive. A dozen different pieces of splintered bone, that was all that remained of the head of the Dyun champion that had attacked the village, Blade of Chaos in hand.
Ialu remembered both that fight and the Blade of Chaos fondly. He almost regretted smashing that Dyun's skull into a bloody puddle of brains and gore. It would have looked better if he had kept it intact...perhaps he would have merely eviscerated the monster, if given a second chance at that fight. Strangling it with its own entrails would have been just as satisfying...
But Ialu was forgetting himself. He had a new prize to add his collection! He walked down another room into the oubliettes. He did not shy from violence and indeed thought it a good thing for his people to occasionally see his strength and ruthlessness, but even he knew that sometimes it could go too far. That's why he had his own underground little place, for those times when his revenge would be too much for any witnesses to stomach. In any case, he slumped down the corpse that he carried on his shoulder. The smell of death already filled the room here, so he left the body in a dark corner. In would be out of the way for the time being.
He returned to the trophy hall and then went to the wall opposite the one lined with skulls. This one had a great many wondrous things! There were a few Cimex, Dyun, even fellow humans that were the types of outlaws and barbarians foolish enough to encroach upon his lands. They had been embalmed well and still looked perfectly lifelike, down to the very looks in their eyes and faces. Some of them had wild or angry looks, but most had something between terror and agony. The only thing that revealed the lifelike trophies for dead were the bloodied nails that went through their bodies and into the wall. Still, they were as lifelike as Ialu could make them. He had dragged most of them in here alive and kicking, after all. It made nailing them in so much harder, yet the end result turned out better. The warlord examined what he had so far and noticed that he lacked a specimen of the so-called 'Uri'. No doubt he would get a couple eventually.
Walking a bit further down that same wall, he came across some shelves and display cases. This was where he kept looted weapons, armor, and the like. He would have loved nothing more than to have a hundred of the shining helmets that had belong to "Vowzra's Victors" so that he could always relive the battle where he had whipped the insufferable holy warriors like dogs and his men had left them dead in the mud. Unfortunately, he hadn't struck the killing blow on any of those Victors and so their heads and helmets belonged to his soldiers and not him...
He did, however, have something that was even better. He walked to a corner of the room to find a great sack just where he had left it from before. Inside it were the remnants of Thulemiz's armor, though admittedly most had been corroded by the spatter of Ialu's own blood and then reduced to scraps when the crazed man had exploded and sent his armor flying off. The helmet, however, remained rather recognizable. A great crack ran through it, nearly splitting the thing in half, yet it was still very much recognizable. It would do for now, until Ialu found the swine and those six that saved him... Yes, soon enough he would move to slaughter them all and tear down their wretched castle in the south, but he had more immediate problems now. It seemed like he always did.
After taking a few minutes to clean and polish the armor, he set about displaying them properly. It wouldn't do to just haphazardly heap his precious trophies on some shelf. Then, he went even further through the labyrinth of dark halls and rooms. At the end was his bedroom, a simple chamber with a rug and one rather large bed in the middle. Of course, it was small by his standards. He hadn't come here to sleep, however. Such basely needs were no longer required to sustain him. He was here to check on something, perhaps his most valuable possession...
Rather eager to make sure it was alright, he put a giant hand of the bed's frame and flipped the whole thing over. Beneath the bed was something even more eery and macabre than his grotesque trophy hall. It was the headless, skeletal remains of some humanoid beast: the Dyun champion. The remnants of the thing's skull were of course with the others in the trophy hall, but the rest of it was here. He took some pleasure in seeing a mighty enemy reduced to a pile of bones, so he kept it close for his own pride and bemusement. It also made a rather good guardian for the true treasure that he stowed beneath the bed: the Blade of Chaos.
The twisted weapon still cackling with malevolent energy, the dead champion's bony hands gripped it like iron bands, even tighter than in life. Ialu bent over to pry the fingers off, whispering, "Remember, it's mine now." The grasp did not relent until he applied nearly enough pressure to break the skeletal fingers. Then he was able to flick the blade and slide it across the floor. Unable to hold it or swing the weapon around, he could still look at it. He hid it here always save for those few times when he came to admire its work. He had to keep it hidden or else some other fool would claim it and perhaps try to be his undoing. The divine blade was far too powerful to fall into another's hands. For all the times that the warlord had told himself to cease using it, sometimes he still heard echos of its bloodthirsty voice in his mind, telling him to claim it once more.
Now was one of those times. It tormented him and weathered his sanity, yet he could not pick it up, nor even a mundane dagger. He had to fight with Wi, and he could no longer rule through sheer might and fear...he had to be manipulative and clever. That part of Ferghus' curse had been a blessing by forcing him to grow into something far more devious and cunning than some mere brute, yet it was still inconceivably frustrating.
Ialu had gazed vacantly at the ceiling as he thought such things, but eventually turned back down to the Blade. He would have to put it back soon and relinquish it to the Dyun champion once again, for safekeeping. Or not? Something curious had happened. The twisted Blade was there no longer; in its place had appeared a scepter of some sort. It was as if the sentient weapon had heard his thoughts, realized that its owner could only rule, and then transformed accordingly. Curiously, Ialu bent down to the scepter. He lifted it up with ease, yet it felt soft and spongy. Sure, it was posh and comfortable, but he also knew that it would do nothing if he struck someone with the thing. It was still no weapon.
Not knowing whether to roar in frustration at the thing's uselessness or simply be grateful that he could now carry it on him, the warlord then realized how much time had passed. He had been in the cottage's depths for some time and now the others would be soon arriving.
Sitting upon his throne in the back of the gloomy room, he watched silently as they came in one by one. When they had all arrived he rose to his feet and stepped out of the shadows. The meeting could begin now.
One of his chieftains began, "With Cassios gone and the chaos dragons betraying us, some of the Garakains deserted our armies."
"There's only a few paths back to Garakai, so we found most of the traitors. Needless to say, there's now a few more skeletons out in the woods," another laughed.
"Still, some stayed. Some truly support you as well they should, and others are terrified by you. Still others realized that they did not go unscathed when the dragons attacked us, so they aren't so eager to run back to the traitors that nearly killed them."
Ialu snorted. "The loyal ones will have their families spared when we return to that backwater cluster of hovels that they call a kingdom. As for the rest...we will have to purge their city. What is the status of the army?"
Ryak grunted, "Our tribe remains unbroken. About two and a half hundred hunters could be raised."
The various vassal chieftains each talked of their individual settlements and warbands. Half the true warriors had fallen to the southerners, leaving mostly women, green boys, and cripples to replace them. The conquered Confederate tribes were still being brought under heel but the southern army's camp followers had been put to work or assimilated easily enough. They had no fight left in them.
Once again Ryak spoke, "Vowzra's Victors were said to be mighty and blessed by the gods, and yet we watered the fields with their blood, looted their corpses, and left their mutilated corpses beneath the sky for the crows to feast upon and all the world to see. Word has traveled as fast as the wind. They all either respect you and recognize you as the true God-King, or are at least terrified by you. We've put them in their place."
A more eloquent man explained, "What he means to say is that this great victory has given you legitimacy. The south will never recover and none will dare question your strength now. A few might still refuse you their worship, but in favor of what? The gods whose champions you just killed, who never come down to speak with their followers? You'll have gained more people than you lost on that day, my lord. Word will even be reaching the Uri, and we've sent men to the Uri kingdom to speak of your glory and convert those foreigners that would listen."
The scepter seemed to seethe with anger and that wrath was reflected in the warlord's eyes. He spat upon the floor and his saliva writhed and boiled. As the anger crept into him, he bellowed, "But Garakai still defies me! That is our concern now. The warlord looked down at his spit as it hissed and destroyed what it touched, as if it were the liquid fire that poured out of the fabled Mt. Vulcan. After a moment, he regained his calm and asked a strange question. "How many slaves remain in Garakai?"
Taken aback by the seemingly irrelevant question, one eventually answered, "Hard to say. Their ilk conquered and raided for years, they might have a fair many left. But why?"
It is time that the treacherous and heretical worms in Garakai be rooted out and replaced with more loyal men. What better way to guarantee a man will stay loyal than to raise him from the dirt, turning a lowly slave into a lord? I have half a mind see about creating a slave revolt, and see to it that the roles are reversed. The treacherous masters will become the ones toiling endlessly in the fields, whilst the loyal ones that built their kingdom from the ground up will be at last rewarded.
Then in that moment, a great roar came and shook Ialu's cottage.
~==--==--==~
As fortune would have it, most of the hunters were out hunting. That was what they did, after all. When Mirtagn roared, the ones that were within the village spilled out like ants. They quickly found his wards and protective incantations made him immune to their magic, so most began to flee even before he commanded it. Sure, his crystalline breath killed a few, but he was attacking men who knew how to fight dragons. Who made a living off of it, in fact. Most weren't so easily disposed of, it was his element of surprise that caused the most damage.
Well, until his second roar shook the very earth and began to make the mud bricks start to crack and some buildings crumble. At this point Ialu stormed out of his cottage, the highest one in the village, and turned to examine the damage. Half the upper floor, the storage wing, had collapsed. He turned and stared down Mirtagn, strolling down the path towards the dragon when all else turned and ran.
Then Mirtagn began to talk. That was rather amusing. Ialu hadn't even realized that dragons could talk. In any case, by then he was ready to put the lizard in his place. He reached out with magic that he knew would be strong enough to smash through any magical protection a dragon could summon, but before he could do anything Mirtagn was gone. In an instant the dragon had soared into the air and returned to his star, but not before giving some ominous threat. Ialu gripped the scepter in his hand with enough force to crush a human skull, but the magical artifact was unharmed.
Suddenly, the warlord found himself having a vision of Sauranth. At first the god just looked like an oversized dragon, but from his speech Ialu quickly figured out who this was. 'twas very same dragon that had destroyed Orabil! As when before Ferghus and Vestec Ialu was foolishly unafraid. He eyed Sauranth down and with a level tone he began to respond.
"So you want negotiations? Fine. My followers will attack no more dragons, and I will forgive the one that just landed and destroyed half of my village."
And now his eyes narrowed. "You must realize that this was no 'pointless hunting'. Indeed, with the Cimex and Dyun about, our very survival depended upon the armor that you call 'beastly'. We knew neither that dragons were intelligent nor that there was a Sauranth god that created and watched over them. After all, he never came to Galbar to aid our plight or even make himself known, not until we heard that he had destroyed Orabil. So we plead ignorance and necessity; those dragons were not slain for mere entertainment.
Ialu was silent for a moment, but then his eyes gleamed. "But there are some who would torture and kill dragons for sport, or worse, enslave them and create the beasts called 'Chaos Dragons'. No doubt you will have heard of them. The men responsible for this lay to the north in a kingdom called Garakai, and for every dragon that our tribe has killed, they have tortured, driven insane, and enslaved two others. The man behind all of this is the one called 'Aztoc', the so-called 'Dragon Tamer'.
They claimed to join us, yet then Aztoc and some of his traitors betrayed us. So we share a common enemy. In light of our newfound understanding and peace, we'll kill them for you.
Unless you want to help us raze half their city and kill the slavedrivers responsible for it."
-Ialu's house is completely dark, more than a little creepy, and filled with grisly trophies. -He has an extreme lack of anger management. -It's revealed that he's been hiding the Blade of Chaos beneath his bed with the headless skeleton of the weapon's former owner. Because even in death the freaking skeleton doesn't want to let go of it. -The Blade of Chaos transformed into a scepter to signify his rule. He can now carry it again, although it doesn't serve as a weapon. -Some Garakains have been deserting his army. -He met with some chiefs to discuss plans and the state of his army. -He's telling Sauranth that he won't kill more dragons, and changing the topic to Aztoc and his chaos dragons. He said that he will deliver justice upon them, with or without help from Sauranth's dragons.
"You are a Clever creature, and you seem to be as powerful as you once were, though in a different manner, Ialu. This negotiation has grown from a threat to true diplomacy, well done." Sauranath breathed deeply. "Garakai has indeed been more difficult to punish than this small area. All that I wished for Garakai was for them to find their own creations lash out at their tormentors. That kind of wishful thinking has been doom upon my dear children, and a gross insult to me, to think that mortals could dare torment, let alone slay those who belong in the Brood of the Great Old One", could get away from my gross wrath and reaping of their puny lives."
"Three thousand of the corpse children, the Skeletal Dragons, who have been assigned to you beginning now, are at your command. Mirtagn himself shall be your Auxillary Commander, and if he so chooses he may assign more of his own friends and compatriots to your army." He sighed this time, deeply. "Please consider yourselves graced by my good pleasure, but I can see that your house of horrors disgusts me. Clear your home of it's insane displays of arrogance and ugliness, and I will turn my good pleasure into something far more solid than I have already freely given."If you do not, I will not allow your clever turning of power over to you to be un-soured."
"Now, I am feeling kind as per new usual self. If you shall turn away from your harvests of dragon scales and bones until your heirs take your place or you are replaced somehow, I shall grant unto all of your soldiers the very best of arms and scales from these very deceased Star Children. You should find your current displeasure replaced with far greater health, if not a complete turn around into your old warrior days. Combined with your cleverness and magical powers, you would become greater than before. To maintain your new powers and ultimate power to come later, come to accept a more moral existence among yourselves and the dragon folk, and I shall see that your powers will not wain from age."
Sauranath, the Great Old One, soared throughout the skies on his leathery wings, this time in the form of a blue scaled dragon. . . A massive creature landed hard and with vigor on the ravaged earth below him. Breathing life into the soil, the land became green with lush grassland for hundreds of miles around the life giving energy, flowers bloomed, and the entire surrounding area was now an abundantly lush wooded forest area. The land was now abundant with much greater productivity and fruitfulness. In this starting area, would arise Sauranath's Humans, known as Dragon Peoples. The most unexpected masterpiece of Sauranath's people though, were known as the people of the Bright Woods, because fire flies were very abundant there. Their neighbors would be close to the Bright Woods, which are West of Erstakh, along with themselves, and would most likely co-exist among each other harmoniously, at first.
1 Might Point spent to create seven thousand new Human beings 1 Might Point spent to create the Serpent Men. Serpent Men are a little slower than many different people but stronger and more durable. It requires very tough and sharp weapons to flake off, cut off or pierce their scales however, and the Serpent Men regularly live up to at least one hundred and twenty five years. This is a low life span for a Serpent Man because they can live to be up to 180 years in normal circumstances. Their muscles are much tighter and sleek than neighboring Humans, but they aren't Superhuman in strength. There are also thousands of these. 2 Might Points spent to teach them the art of Dragon Adherent/Discipleship/Devotees, the art of channeling Draconic Powers the way Dragons do. If you become extremely well practiced, you can gain the Immortality of the Dragon or even manifest yourself as a Starchild. Dragon Children, as people who follow the art are commonly called, can grow so much in power that they can become as powerful as dragons. After earning Immortality, they can earn one more higher level of status, that's known as the Great Old One status. Those who become Great Old Ones can grow in power the longer they live. Taken together with Immortality, they can become far more powerful than most people in the world, given time. These Adopted Starchildren could conjure dragon breath. 1 Might Point blessing. . . The People known as Brightwoods gain power more quickly as Dragon Adherents/Dragon Devotees/Dragon Disciples
As Sauranath gave Kanros advice about the choice he must make several things went through his mind.
"A weapon may be powerful and mighty but a mighty power is a weapon that is a part of a being..."
He thought this because weapons can be many things but if you know the weapon well you are used to its weight and sturdiness but a power grants a mortal or any other being the ability to do greater things.
"But what of the other kind of power?"
Now Kanros hadn't really a great idea what that meant but to him it felt like he would be a person who controlled his peers rather than support them.
So he could only narrow it down to the other two but the thought of a new weapon wasn't as good as the thought of harnessing more strength from another new power.
"Sauranath your advice never deems as useless and how you talk of making my lineage great it does not interest me to boost their fame and image but I think that a boon of power seems to fit each category of which you specified so I choose the power of which you will bestow upon me!"
And as Kanros said it he felt like that was a proper decision in his case because he felt that if he gained another power that it would be like a powerful weapon and a great story that his future lineage or heirs would tell to the people that they love and the story may become a great legend like the gods themselves.
"Be it known that your very will and force of personality will now become unmatched throughout the world. You will be able to speak with the voice of a great Emperor as a peasant, or a great deity above as a true ruler among men. You will grow in numbers by the speaking of your voice and the leadership of your example, and the will enforced by your deeds shall be an example of goodness to all peoples who know of you. Your will shall be unable to be resisted by the lessers among men, but you shall fight, and they will follow, you will speak, and they will listen, you will do, and they shall be in awe. Your very soul shall be as the brightest fire flies among any woods, be they one nest or like a swarm of locusts. Beauty will clothe you like the finest of raiment, though you would ever become ugly as the filthiest rags. Be careful, this gift can be abused VERY easily, and with it comes GREAT power. As if by magic, when you speak, your words will be made into being.".
1 Might point spent to give Kanros the gift of Charisma
Kanros didn't know what to say to the Dragon God but his eyes glimmered with passion and he smiled and he looked at the God as though he had just saved his life or just made him a god.
"I understand my Lord and I thank you deeply for this gift for a mans voice is as dangerous as any sword or weapon in this universe!"
Kanros said with gratitude and pride.
"Although I don't know what I should do now I feel as though I don't know what I shall do now I have completed my quest to kill the "Bloody Blade" and have completed your mission but what now Sauranath?"
He said with a deep sigh for truthfully he didn't know what to do now that he was finished he wanted more but didn't know what that was so he asked the God that gave him the power of charisma.
"I'm not your mother. Do what you want. . . and, for the love of God, please adopt more casual conversation skills. Oh, and here, I conjure the recipes for all of these magically tasting food, for the good of mortals". Sauranath flew off into the sky, soaring into the sky once again, into himself as the Star of Sauranath, the Great Old One, who looked down on the world down below with favor, for once. He smiled and it rained for the famer's crops in several villages. The crops will not be broken, but the rain will fall down upon the land down below and make the land fertile. The rain would continue for a few days, nourishing the soil, until it became fertile enough to feed far more than just several villages, but perhaps large cities in later days to come, and Sauranath glared down at the war below. He didn't realize that there were so few people down below to fight his own people, this would make an interesting war, but he knew that the Humans down below would survive. As a precaution, he would cause the great serpents down below to recede from battle after the first wave, only have the giant skeletons to remain in battle for as long as the combat would take place, to spare the citizens of the city.
As Kanros saw the Great Dragon Sauranath disappear into the sky he nodded and slightly agreed with Sauranath about developing normal conversation skills for he had taken leave from the towns and villages of the world so now he decided he would make his appearance for the first time in many years and Kanros tucked the scrolls for the delicious food that he had eaten into his pack.
Kanros looked off into the distance through pines and other great forest trees and looked for establishments which he remembered faintly of what they looked like he saw none other than a small old shack and a group of smoke stacks way off into the distance where he could make out the hustle of many mortals.
He nodded and he knew that was a village of some sort in the distance it was about a few miles away but Kanros felt the desire to find some rest somewhere.
As the hours passed and darkness came Kanros could see the large village he had spotted but a couple of hours ago he saw tall buildings and short shacks and small farms outlining the outer rim of the village he could see light in windows and could hear people laughing and mingling about with each other as happy as could be.
Kanros lifted the hood of his cloak to his head and began approaching the village at a relaxed pace he had lit his lantern when dusk came and his lantern was dimming slightly as time passed he noted in his mind to purchase more pints of oil once he reached the village.
Vowzra, Level 5 God of Time, 9 Might & Astarte, Goddess of Magic, 20 Might & 4 Free Points & Grandmaster Thulemiz, Son of the Celestial Above, Champion of Chaos, Level 23 Hero, 37 Khookies
Vowzra seeks out Astarte and asks her to aid him
After failing to explain the situation to her properly, he appeals to her desire to annoy Escre
She makes it clear that she would much prefer to be annoying Sauranath and seducing impressing Vestec instead, and Vowzra assures she would be doing that too by aiding him
They go to the Mountain's Crown where a deal is hatched up: Thulemiz will give Astarte a dress and...his soul in exchange for her granting him and the Silent Six necromancy
Thulemiz is transformed into a Lich Lord and healed of all his madness and damage, and the divine energies within him are further assimilated
Astarte gets awesome new attire from the monastery's masterful seamstresses
Still hanging where he was, Vowzra watched with interest the happenings down below. The destruction Mirtagn the dragon caused, and the subsequent arrival of three thousand undead dragons, seemingly subserviant to Ialu. He tapped gingerly into the timestream to see what would come of this, and even the disdainful and disillusioned Vowzra was not impressed. Certainly this Ialu was becming rather arrogant and proud, and he now found in the Great Reptile an ally. That was most dangerous indeed.
Extending his senses towards his son, he saw more clearly his state of weakness. The destruction of the Victors had not merely weakened him, however, it had completely tipped the scales of power in favour of the marauding Ialu. Had Thulemiz prayed to him - Vowzra - for aid, he would certainly have sent him towards the Sanguine Communion in his crusade against the north; those mighty warriors would not have allowed the souterners to be so utterly defeated. As things were, the past was in the past and the dead were dead. There would be no bringing them back...
Or would there?
Descending down towards Galbar, Vowzra sought out Astarte. Where could she be... Vowzra eventually descended enough to float above a forest in his search for Astarte.
And then a scream was heard. From right behind a tree to Vowzra's left.
Then another scream.
And then a chuckle. Astarte walked out of her hiding spot, grinning. A human skull held in her hands. She brought it up, pressed her lips to the back of the skull and blew--A sound similar to a scream came from the other side.
"Nice little music instrument, huh? They call it, uh... I have no idea. Saw one of the tribes use it a few years back. Had just taken this one when you flew into range, Vowzra." She shrugged. "What do you seek from me?"
The god of Time looked at the sad mockery of what was once the goddess of Magic, now utterly consumed by the Chaotic One's energies. He knew, however, that he had not done right by her. If he had brought her closer when she was alone, had protected her from the Chaotic One's advances...only if.
As things were, however, there was no going back and she was what she was until she willed otherwise. It was not his business what another deity wished to do with themselves. Perhaps in due Time she would return to her senses and escape the snare of chaos. Perhaps.
'I come with a small request,' he said, bowing respectfully, 'a request that you bless this world with some of your magics once more - specifically, Thulemiz and his Silent Six,' Vowzra was now standing on the ground before her, his wooden frame fitting well in the forest environment.
'As you may have noted...' Vowzra looked at the tree she had been behind and the skull in her hand, 'or perhaps you may have not, but our conniving warlord, Ialu the godling, has struck up an alliance with the Great Reptile, who has granted him an army of skeletal dragons. This simply will not do. Certainly, it may irritate the Great Spirit whom you have taken as a foe, but it will do no good for the fragile balance here on Arguilla,' he paused and allowed his words to sink in before he continued.
'So, will you aid me in restoring the balance?' it was a rather ironic thing to be asking a being who so loved chaos.
Astarte leaned against the tree and crossed her arms over her chest. "What balance?"
Vowzra, ever patient, was not against explaining the greater workings of the political situation to the goddess, but he felt that it would be rather pointless.
'I know a way for you to piss off Escre. A lot,' he told her.
"Now that's tempting," She put a finger against her lips as she savored the idea, "but I'm more interested in a couple other things right now. Namely, pissing off Sauranath, the God of Lizards and impressing Vestec. Escre can wait a tiny bit."
Vowzra chuckled and nodded.
'Well, you may well be killing three birds with one stone by offering your aid. Escre will be annoyed, Sauranath will be mighty pissed, and Vestec will...have the hots for you, I'm sure,' Vowzra than tapped the side of his nose, 'being able to see into the future has some perks.'
With that, he tore through the fabric of existence and turned to her, saying: 'If you are interested, just follow me,' and with that, he disappeared into the gaping hole.
"Wow... I didn't know Vowzra had the ability to summon gaping holes whenever he wanted to." Astarte said to herself with a smirk, and wasted no time in following the God. Behind her the tear closed and it was as though they had never been there. Almost immediately, Vowzra had stepped out above the fortress-monastery known as the Mountain's Crown, the base of Vowzra's Victors and the remaining citizens of Orabson. Behind him, Astarte emerged and the tear closed once more. It would have been like stepping from one room into the next for her, though Vowzra knew it to be a far more complex process than that. He sent for Thulemiz and his Silent Six. Before long, the Grandmaster was floating up from the fortress, flanked by the Silent Six.
He was interred in a great throne upon which was a suit of armour. Around him were the unmistakable black and red energies of chaos, and Vowzra could sense the slightest of Ialu's energies. It was clear that Thulemiz was no longer quite human, though he was by no means a demigod either. Something neither here nor there.
With that, he turned towards Astarte and smiled.
'I want you to bless him with power over the dead; to control them and raise them and command them as he pleases. And his Six companions too, he will give you whatever you wish in exchange,' Vowzra knew what she would ask for, and he knew Thulemiz would accept.
"Whatever I wish? Well, I want new clothing." Astarte shrugged, "It would be fairly easy to give them the ability to kill the undead dragons, but power over the dead? That requires a lot of power, Vowzra. Blood Sacrifice, sometimes."
She looked over the Silent Six and Thulemiz. "And your guys don't seem like the kind of humans who'd bring themselves to go through with the rituals."
'If it is blood you need, then you shall have all you want of it. The blood of the northern people will rain upon the earth and flow into the smallest rivers and ponds and into the greatest oceans,' Thulemiz's voice came to them, speaking right into the minds of the deities and the Silent Six, 'and as for dresses. I know of no mortal who can craft a dress worthy of a goddess, but if it is your wish, we have seamstresses who can do what they can should they be provided with good material...silk and fine quality cloth does not rain down upon us, much to our misfortune,' with that he fell silent and the Silent Brothers of the Silent Six were left to answer he pressing question. It was Hikat who spoke.
'If by...'blood sacrifice' you mean to ritually kill the innocent, then we shall have nothing to do with you...' he managed to stop himself from calling her a mindless spawn of chaos, though Hikat well knew that the gods were aware of his thoughts. Perhaps as an Outsider and a Victor their abilities over him were reduced, but he did not doubt that they would know. They were, after all, gods.
'If this blood sacrifice is as the Grandmaster says, the blood of our enemies, then it is a meagre price to pay if we put an end to the darkness as the Execrable Chaos has promised in return for Ialu's defeat,' and with that Hikat fell silent.
Whether Astarte knew Hikat's thoughts or not, she showed no reaction to them, and instead stared at him in the eye, not blinking even once. "Blood of your enemies, blood of your friends, blood of your allies, blood of your mothers, fathers, sons, daughters... It's all just blood."
"The reason for the sacrifice is that you need the sacrifice's soul to give life to the empty carcasses you call bodies." She smiled, "It's a fun process, that ritual." Her smile grew predatory.
"It will give you the power over death. Your enemies think they are safe, having massacred you. How safe will they feel once maggot-ridden bodies crawl across the dirt and into their huts in the middle of the night, to plunge blood-soaked knives into their sleeping wives and children? How safe?" She shivered and held herself, predatory smile replaced by an excited one.
A mental chuckle resounded from Thulemiz and he seemed, mentally, very pleased.
'I very much like you, Mother of the Wi. I will sacrifice thousands to you, and I shall ensure that the victims of the dead not only die, but rise again to kill their loved ones with their own hands,' around him, the Silent Six were uncomfortable at these words, but said nothing. It was for the sake of Mankind that they did this, they would not allow corruption to enter them - certainly, it could not! For the Great Spirit himself had hardened their souls against corruption and the interference of chaos. They were not ones to let slip power which could be used for good, however.
"No, don't sacrifice anyone to me, it makes me uncomfortable. Just sacrifice them. Dedicate the sacrifice to the God of Life if you want. Now," She let her arms fall back to her sides as she relaxed, "I've changed my mind. I want the dress and your soul, Thulemiz. Once you die, of course. After your death, your soul will be mine." She nodded to herself, and then pointed to her crown and the glowing white gem embedded on it, "Like this."
Thulemiz could not see, but Astarte would have felt his Wi exploring where she pointed and his thoughts were suddenly doubtful. Did he wish, upon death, to be sealed in a stone for the amusement of a goddess? The doubts quickly faded however, and he chuckled. He was Thulemiz, he would not die.
'Very well, Mother of the Wi. My soul shall be yours should I ever die. But do not think that day shall ever come!' his maddened mind reverberated with laughter and the Silent Six simply gave him a wider berth. It would be good, once they had dealt with Ialu, to deal more permanently with Thulemiz too...
'Now...' Vowzra finally intervened, 'about that dress,' he looked towards Thulemiz who stopped his maniacal mental laughter and gave a little 'ah'.
'Yes yes, I have told Rejys and he has informed them of their task. All they need is the lady herself, or at least her measurements, in order to create a perfect fit,' he paused before adding, 'but I believe that we have a deal, and you need to fulfill your end...'
"Oh, right." Astarte muttered as she flew over to the leftmost of the Silent Six. She put her hand, gently, on his forehead. A blue light emanated from the contact, and once Astarte pulled her hand away, the human exhaled. She did the same to each one of the Six.
When Thulemiz's time came, though, she changed it. Instead of her palm, she only touched her index and middle finger against his forehead, and the light that emanated was a burning red. Once finished, Astarte gave him an ear-to-ear smile and spoke.
"Your soul is my property now, Thulemiz."
Each of them felt the change, but none felt it so greatl as Thulemiz, for he was given power unlike the rest, and he had paid the greatest price for it. His throne itself began to change and whisped about him like smoke, and within the darkness was a glowing red energy. The air around him shimmered and small bursts of energy bubbled through the smoke for a good minute as the Champion of Chaos adapted to the new change, and all the while, Vowzra embedded transforming hero with greater power. He caused the energies of Vestec and Ialu to bond more permanently with the body and increased him in power, ridding him of the mental ailment and healing his mailed soul. When the smoke and energies settled around him, Thulemiz appeared before all in his new form. A dark being, cloaked in a long smoky vapour, yet physical and cloth-like and with no face visible through the darkness of the hood. He was no longer merely Thulemiz the Champion of Chaos, he was now most certainly a Lich Lord. His was no longer a completely chaotic and maddened aura, but a deathly cold, calculating and merciless one.
"Now that's what Vestec would call style." Vowzra merely raised and eyebrow at the whole pomp and fuss, though he guessed it made Thulemiz feel almost important so he did not comment. 'Rejys has called to us, he says the seamstresses require your presence, my lady,' Hikat spoke up. Slowly the Silent Six descended. Thulemiz on the other hand merely floated upwards, clearly lost in his own world. Vowzra turned to Astarte and smiled. 'That was...interesting,' he said, 'and I am done here. I will leave you in the care of those seamstresses,' and with that, he slipped through the fabric of existence and was gone.
Down below, the seamstresses gawped at the goddess who descended amongst them, but an elderly lady, clearly the most senior seamstress, quickly had them rush the goddess of indoors, away from the prying eyes of the men who would, no doubt, wish to catch a glance of one of the most beautiful beings in existence. They'd just love to get their hands on some of that now, wouldn't they...
When Astarte emerged, maybe eight hours later, she was dressed very differently. For one thing, she now wore a pair of black leggings. Where before she had worn a dress, she now wore something of a white tunic with white, ribbon like hems. A few jaws dropped here and there when she emerged, and some of the men grovelled at the goddesses feet in worship of her impossible beauty. No doubt her divinity made her new attire appear even more beautiful than anything the seamstresses were capable of - and the material certainly seemed finer than anything to be found within the monastery as a whole. Vestec would be most shocked by her new attire, and probably turn a few shades of pink brighter than ever before...
- Used 1 Might to gift the Silent Six with Masterful Knowledge of Necromancy and the required rituals. - Used 1 Might to gift Thulemiz with the same knowledge and curse his soul to go to her after he dies. - Used 10 Might to level up to Level 6. 8 Might & 4 FP remaining
Inherent powers used to heal Thulemiz' mind and soul of Ialu's damage 1 Might used to bond Vestec's and Ialu's powers more wholly into Thulemiz's body, making him something of a half human half demigod 8 Might used to increase Thulemiz's power and level him up from Level 23 to Level 30
Grandmaster Thulemiz, Son of the Celestial Above, Champion of Chaos, Lich Lord, Level 30 Hero, 37 Khookies & Kanros
Levitating inches from the ground, his black vapoury cloak smoking eerily around him, the great black figure of the Lich Lord proved to be a rather terrifying figure. Perhaps it was the darkness within his hood or the great scythe in his right hand. Perhaps it was the deathly, calm, calculating and merciless aura about him. Those citizens of Orabson who looked upon him could not help but tremble slightly. Ever since he had ascended to his new form, he had not spoken at all. The people were not certain whether we was still human, let alone alive. Something about his cold, deathly aura told them, however, that this was not a living being at all.
'Prepare thee all,' came his mental command. There were amongst these people those who were weak and unable; they would be of no help at all in future encounters with the northern enemy. At the same time, however, he could not slaughter them all upon the alter as he would very much have liked to do. His Victors would not allow him to do such, and he needed them by his side.
'Zarkin, Alfid, Hikat,' at his word, the three were immediately before him, on their knees, 'go thee to the western lands, where the Xenos art killing one another. Harvest their souls and bring me them,' with that a word, the three disappeared. 'Greyus, how didst thine mission go?' the fourth Silent Brother also appeared before his master, on one knee. 'Lord,' he said, 'I kept an eye on Ialu for a while and witnessed the destruction of his hometown by a great dragon of crystal. I sensed the interference of the Great Reptile in the warlord's mind, though I know not what took place. It is my guess that they have struck up an alliance, for I found the skies littered with the skeletal bodies of many thousands of dragons. All were seemingly subserviant to Ialu, and at their head was that same, crystal dragon,' Thulemiz met this news with general indiference.
'Well hast thou done, Silent Brother,' he told the Outsider, 'go thee back and keep watch,' and with that Greyus disappeared, returning to his operation. Thulemiz looked upon the people who surrounded him still and commanded Vyngis to take them away to the land of the Icy One, where they must build up a settlement and prepare to bring the inhabitants of those lands into the fold, with Rejys taking charge.
Thulemiz left them then, levitating with a dark cloud of smoke between him and the ground. He made his way through to the library, passing by the many tomes and books he had penned over the years. He passed by, also, the many weapons and armours they had collected from the CimeXenos and DyunXenos over time. Soon, he knew, the armours and weapons of the Victors would join the collection. Soon...
For now, however, he had something else on his mind. In one of the far corners of the library, a small space had been cleared. It was there that Thulemiz headed. The two Dyun children, now much older and larger than they were when first captured, lay sleeping together on the ground. In his kindness, Zerabil had placed hay in there for them and blankets, and it seemed that Rejys had continued this kind treatment of them during his tenure.Around the two slept three Dyun younglings, the other two awake and prowling about. Zerabil had cast some Wi on them, ensuring that they could not leave the parameter. There were now seven in total. Silently, Thulemiz lifted the ones that were awake and set them afloat behind him.
For a long time he experimented on the little things, using all the powers at his disposal - from those given him by Vowzra aforetime and those ones he gained from Vestec and Ialu's blood, and his powers and supreme knowledge over necromancy. When he was finally done with them, the two utterly subservient creatures which stood before him were no longer Dyun younglings, but towering Undead Ghouls.
None would escape their wrath: men, Uri and CimeXenos alike would be transformed by their bite. But it was not here that they would be made useful. Summoning Dreyus, he commanded him to take them to Sviebard where they would be unleashed upon the locals and build up their numbers.
The night before Kanros had a bit of trouble finding a place for the night but a kind farmer allowed him a place to sleep in his barn house. Although not comfortable Kanros still had a restful night. He had conversed with the farmer and the farmer told him of the war happening and of Ialu. He couldn't help but think what bad luck the people of these lands had, and what if he could free them from Ialu's reign. But he didnt know where to start because he was having trouble fitting in amongst the other villagers. He was having trouble with some of them who disliked outsiders, but most seemed very docile and uncaring of the sudden appearance of Kanros.
Kanros was seeing his new ability taking effect easily on some of the people in the village, although he decided not to take advantage of them for he wasn't greedy for attention. He rather just was now planning in his mind, thinking where he could gather enough followers to overtake the lands and sanctify this realm of its tyranny He thought this as he lay in the darkness of the barn listening to the snorts of the pigs and the distant clucking of chickens and the sound of the cows in the stall beside his. Kanros had recently awoken from a nightmare of which he could not recall now but he remembered faintly it had to do with Vowzra and a man named Thulemiz.
To Kanros this all was just a dream but it still sat at the back of his conscious. It was more apparent to him that it probably had some meaning, so he was going over its meaning in his mind. He wiped some sweat off his brow and turned over on the hay he was laying upon. Closing his eyes, he returned to sleep.
The Lich Lord made his way out of the library, sensing the presence of a great many souls outside. The reason became clear when he found five of the Silent Six waiting there for him - Greyus was still keeping a watch on Ialu, no doubt. Alfid, Zarkin and Hikat were the source of the souls. Cimex souls or human souls, it made no difference for they were all simply souls. Siezing upon them, he split them evenly between the five, two hundred for each of them, and seven hundred with Thulemiz.'The...the Cimex are...' Hikat paused, his disgust clear in his voice, 'they are slaughering each other unlike anything I have ever seen. Many have turned to cannibalism. We did not have draw our weapons at all, there was...there was so much death,' Thulemiz found this news rather elating - though it was clear that Hikat was not quite so happy.
'Thou art a necromancer, Silent Brother. Delight in death,' and with that, the six of them flew into the air and made for the lands of Ialu. As Thulemiz and the Silent Brothers journeyed north, the Lich Lord's heightened senses picked up on a powerful entity. For a few moments he thought it to be Ialu himself, but when he focused on it he found it to be very different. Leading his Victors down, they came upon a small village. It was very recently built and rather run-down.
Thulemiz could sense no more than seventy six souls in total, excluding the powerful entity. These were clearly people who had escaped Ialu's conquest of the Confederate Tribes. He could see among them those dressed in the Bear Tribe's traditional dress and others in that of the Jaghnir and Shanshir. It soon became clear that it was Chief Ilagi of the Shanshir tribe who was leading them. The man did always have a good head on his shoulders and probably evacuated who he could before the armies of Ialu were upon them. Thulemiz was not interested in the town's people, however. It was the farmhouse that attracted his attention. Floating towards it, flanked by his armoured Seers, each with a naginata in one hand and a wickedly sharp curved sword at their side. Upon entering the farmhouse, Thulemiz saw the man, and around him was the unmistakable mark of Vowzra. This...this was a demigod, for sure.
Kanros had armed himself only just as the intruders
"Who are these people and what do they want?"
He thought to himself as he saw the man stare directly at him with cold eyes almost seemingly dead looking
Kanros narrowed his eyes and angrily said.
"What is the meaning of this intrusion!"
He spat at the men before him.
"Who are you people?!"
He said as he waved his sword around as if to keep them back but he knew one wrong move and he was probably is great danger because he had no recollection where his shield was.
'Calm thyself,' came Thulemiz's voice, 'We come bearing thee no ill will,' the great cloaked figure floated closer to Kanros and observed him. 'Thou art a child of Vowzra, art thou not?' he asked. Kanros nodded at the cloaked man who spoke.
"Yes I am the Son of Vowzra and who might you be?" He said as he lowered his sword and slumped down onto the hay bale he he had slept on.
'I am Grandmaster Thulemiz, Son of Vowzra, the Celestial Above, Champion of Chaos. I am the Lich Lord, and I come to thee bearing an offer: ally with me. March against the warlord Ialu and...rescue the people from his tyranny,' Thulemiz descended and reached out with a dark, almost ethereal hand towards Kanros. 'Wilt thou join me, Child of Vowzra?'
"This is Thulemiz!"
Kanros was surprised that his dream wasn't actually a dream but a premonition of what was to come and this man was no normal mortal, Kantos could tell that Thulmiz was a very powerful creature and that he wished for Ialu's tyrannical reign to end. Or at least, neither his words nor his aura suggested otherwise.
"For what reasons though?"
Kanros looked at the hand extended towards him it seemed misty and incorporeal, almost see-through. Thulemiz was like a ghost to Kanros, although extremely powerful. Indeed, Thulemiz was not an entirely physical being, but neither was he completely ethereal. He was at the same time both and neither.
Kanros extended his hand as well, clasping that of the Lich Lord.
"I will join you Thulemiz and I shall help you gather a great army to march against lalu and we will watch his palace burn and fall apart as we free our people from his reign"
He said with elation and lust for battle. For so long had he wanted this. He wanted to paint his image across the world as the man mightier than Ialu and stronger than a dragon.
'Then it is done,' and with that, the hands of the Silent Six were upon Thulemiz. The air shimmered around them all, and then they were gone.
