Legion02

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 {A God RP}

Hel, Ruler of Helheim

H E L , R U L E R OF H E L H E I M
H E L , R U L E R OF H E L H E I M

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx HUMAN 𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦 Astrid Krogh 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 37 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗥 Forensics Coroner	𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 Fierce Dutiful Kind 𝑩𝑨𝑫 Gloomy Uncompromising Resentful 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 Hel has no real ambition beyond tending to the dead. However when she was chained to the corporeal world, her ability to care for them was almost entirely stripped from her. In her heart she desires to return to Helheim, though she dares not actively pursue this goal as of yet. 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 Ragnarok, the end of the world. It would mark the moment where she gives in to her resentment and unleashes her people, the dead, upon Midgard. To be led by her father, Loki. Failure of her duty. The dead need tenderness or punishment, depending on whom they are. At Helheim she could care for them but on earth her ability is terribly limited. With every passing year she fears what is happening to Helheim in her absence. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx DEITY 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗬 Hel 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 Ruler of Helheim 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗡 Norse

𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

Born from Loki - the trickster god – and the giantess Angrboda, the birth of her and her siblings came with a dreadful prophecy. Oden, ruler of the Aesir, could not keep her in Asgard. So he assigned the freezing realm of Helheim to her. Where she would reign. Until Ragnarok begins. Then her realm will quake, the gates of Helheim will be flung open and Hel’s People will march towards Asgard, led by Loki.

As goddess of the dead, she tends to those who died “dishonorably”. The ill, the old, those who did not die in battle. These people are cared for with a loving, numbing embrace. To murderers and perjurers, Helheim unleashed her frozen glare. Making them suffer for an eternity. Her dominion will not be denied and even the gods are not free from death’s grasp. As is shown in the tale of Baldur Odinson. Who died and went to Helheim. Hermod, another one of Odin’s, descended into the realm and begged the Queen of the Dead for his brother’s return. She declared that only if every creature in every realm begged for Baldur’s return, she would release him. When a single giant refused to plead for the fallen Aesir, Hel made her will known and Baldur remained in Helheim.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬

Hel did not think she would walk across Midgard before Ragnarok would ravage it. When she first opened her eyes upon the world, she felt a moment of elation. Before dread set in. The dead were without their caring queen. She had to return. At first she spend day and night amongst graveyards. Where the connection with the dead was still strong. This left her isolated and alone. A feeling she was used to. It didn’t take time until she became the graveyard keeper and diligently carried out her duty. It was around this period that she developed insomnia. Which she simply put to good use by tending to the graves, at day and night. The insomnia gave her a gaunt, hauntingly beautiful look.

Then once more her life was uprooted. Once more she tended to the graves, this time in Seattle. Alone. Unwilling to look up any of the Aesir and Vanir, who never came to visit her in Helheim either. At night she used her insomnia for a nobler purpose: to become a doctor through night schooling. Years faded into eachother, as did day and night. Every hour was a repetition. As a doctor, Hel was adept not at curing patients but at making their final moments peaceful. As well as accurately identifying the reasons why someone died. She gained quite some fame amongst the Seattle Courthouse as an expert on cadavers and corpses.

Relationships

Ammit – The Devourer of the Dead

Hel knows of Ammit from the many court rooms they had both shared on occasion. As fellow goddess concerned with the dead, Hel at first felt a kinship with the Devourer. Only to realize that she didn’t want to become a goddess again and in fact wanted to stay on Earth as a mortal. Hel respected that wish and kept her distance. None the less she kept an eye on the Devourer, just to make sure she wouldn’t do something she wanted but would doom the rest.

Imentet – Goddess of the Necropolis

Hel has a kinship with the goddess of the Necropolis. She is grateful for the dead Imentet sends her way, so they may go towards Helheim. Imentet’s tea house is one of the few places were Hel feels at least a little at home.

Persephone – Queen of the Dead

Also known as Kore. She and Hel are acquainted through their shared dominion over the dead. She buys flowers from Persephone’s shop every day to leave behind on graves long abandoned and sometimes Hel will happen to enter a cozy café when she performs as Kore.

Vidar – Odin’s Avenger

There are few people in this world whom Hel hates intuitively more than Vidar. She may not like the Aesir, but Vidar is one of the few she actively hates. He is, after all, a living reminder of what’s to come. Ragnarok. He is also the prophesized murderer of her brother, Fenrir. The thought of killing him now and thus hoping to save her brother come the end of the world has entered her mind more and more often.

Hathor – She of many names

Hathor is perhaps one of the gods that have seen Hel slip her mask somewhat as she nurtures a gin and tonic. The gaunt goddess of Helheim has an nearly endless capacity to care. But her mortal form is still capable of exhaustion. Hel has stumbled into Hathor’s bar on more than one occasion. Often to nurse her drinks on the bar.

---

Ares, God of War

A R E S , G O D O F W A R
A R E S , G O D O F W A R

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx HUMAN 𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦 Alexander Miknosos 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 32 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗥 Consigliere	𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 Protective Confident Resilient 𝑩𝑨𝑫 Bloodthirsty Wrathful Self-destructive 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 Ares, ultimately, wants to break his vicious cycle. Though he has tried everything short from fleeing the Colossus or attempting to regain his full godhood again. The latter he saves as a last resort. For he quite likes the feeling he gets from fighting beside and against mortals as a more mortal creature. It makes him feel alive in ways he couldn’t when he was a god. 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 Remaining stuck in his cycle forever and killing Julie. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx DEITY 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗬 Ares 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 God of War 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗡 Greek

𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

The Greeks enjoyed two gods of war. Ares personified the aspects of the warrior: courage, honor, glory and strength but also wrath, terror, strife and pain. He was a cruel and dangerous god. One only prayed to by soldiers, most prominent amongst them the Spartans. In myth he is often shown to be on the wrong side of battle. He fought amongst the Trojans against the Greek. Amongst the gods, only Aphrodite loved him. Even his father, Zeus, told him that he is the god most hateful to him.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬

Ares’ life is marked by a vicious cycle that has repeated itself for centuries now. At first he will represent strength, courage, honor and valor. A gentleman and a kind hearted warrior. It is not uncommon that he takes a wife in this stage (often time widowers of war). Sadly for him those years are always numbered. With every passing night the clarion call grows a little louder in his head. His muscles beg to be torn apart. He becomes short tempered and violent. Often looking for a fight just to have one. Tensions at home will always rise. If the woman is lucky, she leaves. Though this would send him spiraling into his next phase much faster. Blood will no longer sate him. Boxing, martial arts, wrestling, his usual methods to blow off steam will fail him. So inevitably he will go deeper and darker. Looking up underground fight rings. The bigger the city, the bigger those events are. No-one ever bested him such a depraved ring. Where honor is replaced with blind glory. Where strength is replaced by brutish might. These are his crimson days. Where blood flows but it’s never enough.

If he has a wife and she hasn’t left him yet, doom quickly comes for her. It will happen, for it has happened an endless times already. Blind rage will overtake Ares. Sooner, rather than later. There was a time he would’ve fought it. To no avail. It is an inevitability. He will kill her. If she was smart enough to be gone, the only thing Ares can do is rage on like an inferno. Until he had enough of the bloody murder. What follows are his black days. There’s the burial of his loved one after which he shuns society. Often times he’s wasting away in some gutter. In the old days the worst a man could abuse was alcohol and himself. But in the last two black days have been marked by worse poisons. Mankind, after all, had become expert at Asclepios’ arts.

The dark days have no set end. They can last years, or decades. Once it even lasted a century. But as inevitable as the self-destruction is the fight to regain what he once had. And fight he always does. Somehow he regains an inkling of his former splendor and crawls out of his own dug pit. It takes years and it has never been easy. But once out, his cycle starts anew.

When the gods came to Seattle, Ares had been showing his virtues for five years already. Almost as a prophecy, the second he arrived in Seattle he found someone he loved: Julie. She’s a simple human, but beautiful in his eyes. He loves her, thoroughly. And to his own delight and surprise, she loves him as well. Yet he hasn’t had the courage yet to tell her who he really is. What’s more problematic is that the tell tale signs of his endless, almost prophetic, wheel turning. He recently enjoyed fighting more than he should and has been working as a Consigliere for the local mob. He is slipping…

Relationship

Hades – Lord of the dead

Hades is the boss of Seattle’s criminal empire for which Ares works. He is one of the few Greek gods Ares can stand for any extended period of time. As a boss Hades can be demanding at times but let Ares have his precious free reign when he wants to. The god of war, for his part, is happy to appear subservient to the god of the underworld if it means that he doesn’t have to deal with any of the higher up politics.

Aphrodite – Goddess of Love

Things are… complicated. For centuries Aphrodite has been one of the few rocks in Ares’ life. Even when things were bleak, she was there for him. Though that all changed a century ago. The loss of Eros’ wife and the consequent accusations he had to suffer tipped him off the deep end. When he crawled out of his pit again, things appeared different. Aphrodite was no longer waiting for him with open arms. Their relationship now is a strained one. He still loves her dearly.

Eros – God of Desire

His son, his charge. Eros and Ares always had a terse relationship. The god of war did not see his son often. But like any parent he still loved him. Even from a distance. The loss of Psyche tore a chism through the two though. Ares took a lot of blame on his shoulders in those years, until he succumbed. Now, centuries later, the two haven’t exchanged words. Many nights Ares wished his young son would pummel him for an entire night. Raging like the fires. He could take that. The icy distance was cutting deeper.

Bellona – Goddess of War

Ares is a loyal member of her gym. Where comes as often to blow off steam as to actually train. The two are friendly with eachother. She even offers him a vice he thought he could not sate in these modern times. In the illegal fight club, Ares reigns in the ring. Taking hit after hit and shrugging them off like it’s nothing, before he wets the concrete with the blood of mortals. Though he cannot wait until he can spill the blood of a god as well.

Zeus – King of the Gods

What else is there but intense distaste? Even before the fall from divinity Ares knew he was not his father’s favorite. Far from it, the words his father spoke during the Trojan War still echo in Ares’ thoughts. The humiliation and pain he had to bear was too much. And now the old man wants forgiveness? Never. That bridge had burned again and again. Nothing is left. These are the consequences Zeus will have to live with.

Apollo – God of Light

An odd friend, but a dear one. Apollo has aided Ares many times already. The god of war understands his absence during his own dark days. Nothing could help him, except for time. But when he needs help, he knows he can get it from Apollo. He knows that he might not always be the best friend, but he will always be a loyal one to the god of light.

Athena – Goddess of Strategy

Is there a rivalry amongst the gods greater than that of the two gods of war? Where Athena symbolizes strategy and wisdom, Ares represents the aspects of the warrior. The two have been locked in an endless skirmish for centuries. Not even turning mortal could stop that. Even now the two are set against each other. Moving pawns and kings in an elaborate chess game held within the bowls of Seattle.

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 {A God RP}

Hel, Ruler of Helheim

H E L , R U L E R OF H E L H E I M
H E L , R U L E R OF H E L H E I M

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx HUMAN 𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦 Astrid Krogh 𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 37 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗥 Coroner	𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 Fierce Dutiful Kind 𝑩𝑨𝑫 Gloomy Uncompromising Resentful 𝗔𝗠𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 Hel has no real ambition beyond tending to the dead. However when she was chained to the corporeal world, her ability to care for them was almost entirely stripped from her. In her heart she desires to return to Helheim, though she dares not actively pursue this goal as of yet. 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 Ragnarok, the end of the world. It would mark the moment where she gives in to her resentment and unleashes her people, the dead, upon Midgard. To be led by her father, Loki. Failure of her duty. The dead need tenderness or punishment, depending on whom they are. At Helheim she could care for them but on earth her ability is terribly limited. With every passing year she fears what is happening to Helheim in her absence. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx DEITY 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗬 Hel 𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 Ruler of Helheim 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗢𝗡 Norse

𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

Born from Loki - the trickster god – and the giantess Angrboda, the birth of her and her siblings came with a dreadful prophecy. Oden, ruler of the Aesir, could not keep her in Asgard. So he assigned the freezing realm of Helheim to her. Where she would reign. Until Ragnarok begins. Then her realm will quake, the gates of Helheim will be flung open and Hel’s People will march towards Asgard, led by Loki.

As goddess of the dead, she tends to those who died “dishonorably”. The ill, the old, those who did not die in battle. These people are cared for with a loving, numbing embrace. To murderers and perjurers, Helheim unleashed her frozen glare. Making them suffer for an eternity. Her dominion will not be denied and even the gods are not free from death’s grasp. As is shown in the tale of Baldur Odinson. Who died and went to Helheim. Hermod, another one of Odin’s, descended into the realm and begged the Queen of the Dead for his brother’s return. She declared that only if every creature in every realm begged for Baldur’s return, she would release him. When a single giant refused to plead for the fallen Aesir, Hel made her will known and Baldur remained in Helheim.

𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬

Hel did not think she would walk across Midgard before Ragnarok would ravage it. When she first opened her eyes upon the world, she felt a moment of elation. Before dread set in. The dead were without their caring queen. She had to return. At first she spend day and night amongst graveyards. Where the connection with the dead was still strong. This left her isolated and alone. A feeling she was used to. It didn’t take time until she became the graveyard keeper and diligently carried out her duty. It was around this period that she developed insomnia. Which she simply put to good use by tending to the graves, at day and night. The insomnia gave her a gaunt, hauntingly beautiful look.

Then once more her life was uprooted. Once more she tended to the graves, this time in Seattle. Alone. Unwilling to look up any of the Aesir and Vanir, who never came to visit her in Helheim either. At night she used her insomnia for a nobler purpose: to become a doctor through night schooling. Years faded into eachother, as did day and night. Every hour was a repetition. As a doctor, Hel was adept not at curing patients but at making their final moments peaceful. As well as accurately identifying the reasons why someone died. She gained quite some fame amongst the Seattle Courthouse as an expert on cadavers and corpses.

Descension (A God SoL RP)

My Hel FC would be Katheryn Winncik because I would be insane not to.

Descension (A God SoL RP)

I'd like to reserve Ben Barnes as FC for Ares. I might also go pick up another god or goddess if more than one character is allowed.

EDIT: Actually if possible I'd also really like to reserve Hel!

Descension (A God SoL RP)

Could I put a claim in for the god Ares?

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Carn, Auriëlle & Titania

To free the Highland’s people from the wicked grasp of Ketrefa.

The sentence still got a chuckle out of Auriëlle. She reckoned any rebel stupid enough to rise up back in Nallan would use the very same sentence. Maybe they would even use her name. Yet here she was, not that far from a city she tentatively called home, ready to destroy another. The sorceress always knew Carn had some hard feelings towards the great city. Still the news that he was now actually moving against it came somewhat as a shock.

“Do you think he’ll win?” Esiré, who walked beside Auriëlle, asked.

“Alone? No.” The sorceress answered as she kept her eyes in front of her. She was getting close in the last days now. Her pace was higher than usual. Now she had broken into a full march. One Esiré could match, luckily. “But with me at his side? Ketrefa will be torn down to its vestiges.”

Those words summoned a smile on Esiré’s face. The young warrior had a knack for destruction, as she had shown in Bul’Gadin. For once Auriëlle was happy with some company. Especially the company of this strange warband she was seemingly, wordlessly, leading. Esiré, who acted as her second in command, seemed to be interested in magic as well.

Auriëlle’s warband, counting fifteen members, reached the peak of a hill. From the horizon they had seen the white smoke tendrils reaching the sky but now they could see the actual camp.

There was very little order to it. Individual warbands from dozens of different settlements had arrived, and set up wherever they pleased, with no pre-planned layout or direction. Hundreds of men and women wandered between the tents; some training, some conversing, some eating, and others patrolling the perimeter. At this distance there was no way of telling which tent belonged to Carn in particular, but this was undoubtedly the right place.

“Oh Carn, what have you gotten yourself into?” Auriëlle asked herself with a chuckle. Most of her warband, all armed as well, caught up with her. The sorceress, dressed in just commoner's clothes and leather robes, with a strange eyed disk on her hip and carrying something completely wrapped up on her back made her way down the hill. The only thing that truly adorned her was the small necklace that was given to her by the goddess. Slowly, to keep her warband together, she descended the hill and approached the campsite. In her chest, her heart began to flutter.

One of the sentries stopped upon noticing her approach. “And who are you!?” he shouted across the field.

“Your worst nightmare if you’re going to try and stop me!” Auriëlle shouted back, with a big smile plastered across her face. Gods it felt good to be free and fierce again.

The guard blinked, and then let out a sigh of exasperation. “No need to put on a show. Are you here to join Carnelian’s army or not?”

“I’m here to win his war.” Auriëlle said as she got closer. “And get my necklace back. By the way, his name is Carn. Just Carn.” She really hoped glory hadn’t gotten to his head now. “So where is he?”

The guard gave her a skeptical look. “Check the center of camp. The biggest tent. Should be two guards standing outside it.”

“Thank you.” Auriëlle said as she threw the sentry a far too big smile. Most of her warband kept a wary eye on everyone within the camp. Slowly they managed to make their way through the makeshift corridors of the camp.

“This is going to be problematic in a battle.” Esiré noted as she moved along a tent and nearly kicked over a cooking cauldron. “I bet half these people hate the other half. Destroying Ketrefa better be a damn good reason to get them all together or else we’ll have riots on our hands. Soon.”

“It is.” Auriëlle assured her companion. When they approached what was presumed the biggest tent in the center, which was indeed guarded, Auriëlle shouted: “Carn! Come out you ox!”

One of the guards winced at her abrasive tone, before casting a nervous glance back at the tent. The other glared at her. “Lord Carnelian is not accepting visitors right now, and you ought to show more respect.”

“Lord Carnelian?” Auriëlle frowned, then furrowed her brow. “Oh gods it’s really all gone to his head.” Still, she kept closing in. “Stand aside lady. I’ve known Carn for a lot longer than you have and he has something that he needs to give back.” Her own warband began to tense up as well. None of them were grabbing for their weapons but it was clear that they were preparing for a row.

“You’ll have to wait, then,” the guard grit her teeth. “He’s not taking visitors, and that’s that.” Around them, others had taken notice of the tension and stopped what they were doing. “Find a place to set up camp, if you haven’t already. Or go look for Lothar.”

Things were getting serious now. Even Auriëlle noticed it. She didn’t back down though. “Don’t make me move you.” The sorceress was getting close now. “Get Carn out or I will tear his tent down.”

A new voice pitched in. “What’s going on here?” a rather burly-looking men asked. He was clad in bronze armour, though some pieces were rather old and battered, as if it had been scavenged off a battlefield.

“This woman doesn’t understand what ‘no’ means, Chieftain Yarwick” the guard said. “She wants to see our lord. He’s not taking visitors.”

Yarwick frowned. “He isn’t? Why not?” And without waiting for a reply he walked forward, pushed the guards aside, and stepped into the tent.

Auriëlle’s eyes followed the new man inside. Tensions were still high. She didn’t want to stay in a stand-off for too long. So instead she decided to push her luck and began walking forward, towards the tent and the guards guarding the entrance. Challenging them to stop her.

They didn’t.

“Not again,” Yarwick muttered in frustration as she stepped inside the tent. The remark was not aimed at her, however. A table stood in the center of the tent, with a series of chairs surrounding it. At the far end of it was Carn, his head face down on the table, with his cheek resting on the wooden surface. His eyes were closed, and he was snoring gently. He was asleep.

At first Auriëlle didn’t know what Yarwick meant. That was until she saw Carn sleeping. She thought she would hug or even kiss him the second she’d see him yet here he was, not even bothering to be awake!? “You gods damned ox!” She yelled as she kicked a leg of the table. “This is how you welcome me back!?”

Carn jolted awake and leapt to his feet as the table shook. “Dammit, Ingrid!” he shouted, as he plucked a sliver of wood from his cheek. “I told you-” then he stopped, as he saw who stood in front of him. He blinked, and it took a few moments for him to process it, and when he did, his eyebrows rose. “...Auriëlle?”

She was glaring at Carn. A fire burned in her eyes. For a second she stayed calm. Until the first tear dropped. Then she rushed over, threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. “I told you I’d come back!”

“I…” Carn began, still taken aback by the sudden reappearance, but his arms wrapped around her almost of their own volition. “That was four years ago,” he said quietly.

She didn’t say anything. Instead she just took it all in. Right then she realized she’d almost forgotten how he smelled. Though eventually she released him. “Well you still have my necklace.” She said, now more playfully as she lightly touched his chest with her fist.

“I thought you were dead…” he whispered, before reaching forward to place a hand on her shoulder, as if testing if she was real.

She smiled. It was a smile of pure happiness that somehow still felt a little sad. Four years of regret somehow finally hit her square in the heart. “I don’t die that easily. Especially these days.” She said. “And neither do you, apparently.”

He offered her a thin smile. It was then that she noticed the dark circles under his eyes, and the haggard expression he was attempting to conceal. “Leave us, Yarwick,” he ordered. The Chieftain nodded, clearly relieved to be dismissed from the awkward reunion.

“Why don’t we get some wine in here and catch up?” Auriëlle said, realizing he had seen better days. She sat down on a nearby chair. “So what happened with you after Jalka?”

Carn did not sit, and took a few moments to consider the question as he leaned against the table. “I waited for you,” he told her. “You didn’t show up. Eventually, I had to leave. I uh, left the Redspears,” he scratched the back of his head, and seemed ashamed to admit that. “I wandered a bit, then found a place called Thyma. It was then that Cadien contacted me, and… set me on this path.”

Guilt crept up in Auriëlle’s chest. He waited for her? Why? She felt something cold grip her heart now. “You shouldn’t have waited.” She said. Her voice was colder, though she didn’t intend to appear frigid. Oddly enough, she didn’t particularly care that the Redspears were no more. Even though it looked as if Carn did. She just shrugged. “The path to destroy Ketrefa?”

“You could say that,” Carn nodded. “The people following me, they want the raids to stop. They want their loved ones back. They want revenge for everyone and everything that was destroyed or taken.” He shrugged. “If that means destroying it, then so be it.”

For a second Auriëlle turned her gaze slightly to look next to Carn. To look beyond him. She didn’t dare to look at Carn. Afraid he’d see the truth in her eyes. Only a handful of weeks ago she was that kind of person. She raided, she killed, she took prisoners and she destroyed. Everything Carn just summed up, she would be charged with. Though she didn’t feel guilty for any of it. Instead it made her wonder if there was a Carn back in Nallan. Someone blessed by the gods, who’d rise in strength and prepare to take his revenge. She quickly shook off the thought, locked her eyes with his again and said: “Well, I couldn’t have returned at a better time.” As she leaned back in her chair.

“They have my brother,” Carn went on, looking down at the table. “I think I told you that, once.”

“You did.” Auriëlle said.

“That’s why I’m doing this,” he said. “I was told it would get him back.” He cast an uncertain gaze toward the tent flap, then sat down on a chair, and lowered his voice. “That’s the only reason I’m doing this. But now… everyone expects me to be some hero. To break entire armies without taking a single loss. The way they speak of me, it’s like they think I can kick down Ketrefa’s gates and fight my way to their King singlehandedly. There’s even talk of me ruling Ketrefa as some sort of King after all this is over.” He shook his head miserably. “I just want my brother.”

Auriëlle frowned. This wasn’t the Carn she knew. This was some pale, small phantom of him. “Self-pity doesn’t suit you.” She said dryly. “You got what you need: an army. To hell with what they think of you. Use them, then take your brother and get out. It’s not like you swore you’d rule over the city. Raze it, if you want to.” A thin, more malevolent smile formed on Auriëlle’s lips now. “Or I could do it for you.”

“It’s getting there that’s the troubling part,” Carn told her. “Just last night, someone tried to kill me. There was also a brawl between two groups of warriors from different villages that hated each other. I can’t even get a short nap without hearing of some new issue, or some new arrival who demands to meet me - no offense.” He sighed. “Sorry. You didn’t come here to hear me complain.” His smile returned. “I’m… happy you’re here.”

Her smile turned nicer. She missed this, deeply. But then she got up and turned around, to face the entrance of the tent. For a moment she closed her eyes so she could listen to all the noises coming from beyond the tent. It sounded like any other war camp but at the same time Esiré’s words echoed through her head. “You’re on borrowed time already.” She noted. “You’ve got a pack of wild dogs outside. How long ago did you give them a prey to hunt?”

“They’ve been arriving over the past few days,” Carn said. “I spent all winter convincing chieftains, lords, and kings to support my cause. I’m not sure how many are coming, but I reckon I’ll end up with a couple thousand, at least. It’ll take a few weeks to get to the city, then I’ll need to figure out a way to get past those walls. I doubt a ladder rush will do it - you saw how that worked at Jalka.”

“If you think those guys can hold on together for another few weeks, you’re mistaken.” She said. In her mind she was already preparing a raid on some Ketrefa friendly manors and what not. There was bound to be a suitable target somewhere nearby. Then Carn talked about the legendary wall of Ketrefa. For a second Auriëlle wondered if she could tear it down. Even for her that was an extraordinary arrogant thought, but not one she immediately disregarded. With her mind made up, the talk about Ketrefa lost its appetite. The issue of its walls could be discussed when they got near. For now, she wanted to have some fun.

So she walked to one corner of the tent, the one with a pitcher and some cups on a table. She poured one cup and then carried both the pitcher and the cup back to Carn. Whom she offered the cup, and then took a gulp from the pitcher itself. The wine was not good to say the least. But then again, wine was wine. “Enough about Ketrefa.” She said. “What else happened. Did you meet any other gods?”

“I met the Avatar of Gibbou,” Carn revealed. “Titania, her name is. She pledged to support my cause. She’s here, actually.” He took a sip from the cup. “Probably should have mentioned that sooner.”

Her!? Auriëlle’s eyes grew wide. She nearly lost the grip on her pitcher. “And you’re telling me this now!?” She shot up and punched him on the shoulder. “You ox! Where is she?”

“Under heavy guard,” Carn answered, furrowing his brow slightly. “What’s with you and calling me an ox?”

“Because you’re acting like an ox.” Auriëlle said as she shot up and put the pitcher on the table. “Now let’s go.” She was already halfway towards the exit of the tent. “You’re introducing me. Properly.”

“What’s with the sudden interest in the divine?” Carn asked as he followed her out. “You never cared much for them before.”

“I still don’t.” She said, with a voice that might’ve been a bit too high pitched. “Now what tent is she in?”

“Follow me,” Carn instructed her, and set off, pushing past Aurielle’s men. “Lothar will likely be there, so mind your manners. He’s a priest, and a devout one at that. Doesn’t take kindly to perceived insults against the gods.”

“Ugh, they never do.” Auriëlle balked as she followed Carn. Though she stopped for a second and told Esiré: “Setup camp. Don’t cause trouble.” The mercenary woman just flashed her a faint smirk before her people walked away to find a spot.

“Well, this one is on speaking terms with both a god and an avatar, so I’d say he’s more fanatical than most,” Carn remarked as they walked.

It didn’t take long for them to find Titania’s tent. It was smaller, with eight guards standing outside. They saw Carn coming and immediately stood to attention.

“Where is Lothar?” Carn asked.

“Inside, my lord. With her.” One of the guards answered.

“I see,” Carn turned toward Aurielle, and gestured toward the tent flap. “Let’s go.”

---

The tent was empty, save for a single table, upon which was a silver suit of armour. Lothar knelt in front of it. “There is something… that I need to confess…” the priest said in a soft voice.

“Lothar?” Carn asked.

The priest tensed, and rose to his feet. “M-my lord,” he stammered.

“Is everything alright?” Carn asked with a furrowed brow.

“Everything is fine, my lord,” Lothar nodded. “Do you have business with me, or with her?”

“With her,” Carn answered.

“Very well. I’ll… leave you to it,” the priest made for the exit… and then came to a halt when he saw Aurielle. His eyes widened, and then narrowed. “You.”

“Me?” She asked, coyishly. Even though the priest did not particularly interest her. She was here only for Titania. Even though she couldn’t see the girl. Only what Auriëlle presumed to be her armor. “This is a bad joke, Carn.”

Carn ignored her, instead focusing on Lothar, who stepped past Aurielle without another word and exited the tent. Only when he was gone did he look back to Aurielle. “What joke?”

”Is this a mortal joke, maybe? I don’t get it.” The armour gave a hum. ”Is this what mortals refer to as ‘randomness’? I’ve heard that’s supposed to be funny.”

Auriëlle nearly jumped when she suddenly heard the feminine voice. “What the hell!?” She looked into the tent but there was nothing there. Then she came to her senses. “Hold up.” She said, as she slowly began to walk around the table, observing the armor upon it. Until she finally reached the helmet and put her finger on it. “You’re Titania.” Then another thought dawned on her mind. She looked up, still with her finger on the helmet. “Carn…” She said with a silky smooth voice. “Who wears this armor?”

The furrow in his brow returned. “...I do?” he said slowly. “Why?”

”No one wears me! I am my own armour - I shield my user from harm; in return, they take me where justice demands!”

At first the sorceress glared at Carn. Then the damn armor decided to speak up! She took a step back. “Yeah… justice.” Auriëlle slowly said. “Tell me, Titania, can you even move without someone inside of you?”

There was a pause. One could practically feel the armour flush with embarrassment. ”I am like a, a sword! A weapon greater than many, which is useless unless someone… Wields… It…” There came a metallic sniff. ”Anyway, who cares about that - I can protect innocents without moving! Behold!” In a flash, she produced a heap of leather armour next to her. ”Prime protection - out of thin air! Perfect for countering the fiends of chaos!”

“Right.” Auriëlle said, hiding how impressed she really was. You didn’t encounter talking armor that conjured leather armor at a moment’s notice without being at least a little bit impressed. Though the sorceress didn’t want to show it. “So you’re…inside of her.” She repeated, now looking at Carn. Slowly she walked back around the table towards him. “Must be… a pretty special bond.” When she got close, she gave him a quick, soft peck on his cheek before whispering: “You might want to step out.”

“Aurielle…” Carn seemed bewildered. “Don’t tell me that… are you jealous?”

”To be my user is an honour! Consider yourself blessed, Carn Swordsman!” She offered a proud laughter. ”To champion justice is a quest of virtue!”

Auriëlle didn’t acknowledge Carn’s question. She just turned around to face the armor that talked about honour, justice and virtue. She no longer faked how hollow those words sounded to her. Her soft expression crumbled. Revealing the hard ice underneath. Wind picked up and rustled the tent. Something shimmered on Auriëlle. Small horns sprouted from between her hair as the shadows in the tent drew long. She held out an open palm towards the armor and summoned a flame in her hand. It leapt from her fingers onto the table and quickly spread. The fires remained small though.

The sorceress’ appearance continued to shift. The horns grew, as a cloak of shadows and smoke cascaded from her shoulders, darkening the tent even more despite the flames. When the entire table was bathed in low flames, she clenched her fist, smothering the fire in her palm and raised her arm. An inferno roared up from the table. Igniting the tent’s canopy. Auriëlle didn’t care. She didn’t even care if it was a god’s avatar. She wanted Titania gone.

“What are you doing!?” Carn shouted over the crackle of flames. He seized her by the shoulders and pulled her out of the tent. There was already a commotion outside, as the flames and smoke attracted notice. One man was shouting for water.

A furious Lothar stormed toward them. “What have you done!?” he demanded.

”Oh? A champion of evil without heart to see the consequences of her ill deeds, I see.” In a shockwave, the flames turned to gentle steam, and all who found themselves dangerously close to the inferno that had been found that the earth itself had risen to shield them from the terrible flames. The table upon which the armour laid had become hot-glowing steel, twisted and lazy from the heat. Titania, however, was untouched - not even soot had harmed her visage.

Auriëlle didn’t acknowledge Carn or Lothar’s question. But Titania’s words rang like a taunt to her. The armor wasn’t even dirtied! But then she remembered Neiya’s words. Never challenge a god. She took a deep breath as she tried to calm herself.

“Pro- Auriëlle!” Esiré yelled, as she and five more of Auriëlle’s warband quickly gathered around her. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” Auriëlle said. Then she turned her gaze at Carn. “Wear the bitch for all I care.”

”You see this, Carn? This is what we fight - wanton destruction, uncontrolled rage - these are the enemies of peace. Quickly, put me on and let us apprehend her!”

“No!” Carn shouted. “Both of you, enough!”

“You should do as the Avatar says,” Lothar interjected. “You cannot-”

“Enough!” Carn repeated, before turning on Aurielle. “You. Come with me.”

Titania scoffed. ”Carn, you cannot side with her in this! She’s obviously a black-hearted being!” There then came a sharp gasp. ”Wait, where’d she go? Where’d she go?! Wearer, where is she?!”

He looked at Aurielle. “She’s… right here… what’s going on?”

“No.” Auriëlle told Carn in response to his command, crossing her arms. She just got off the hook working for a queen like a dog for a year. She wasn’t going to take orders now. Not from Carn. Not from anyone.

Meanwhile Esiré and the cult members, with faint hearts, looked at each other while Titania raved about not seeing the prophetess. They had suspected for so long. The fainter stars, the sense that they were watched unless they were together. The shouting of the armor began to confirm their suspicion.

”She’s -obviously- not there, otherwise I’d see her clear as day, wearer! She must’ve escaped in the inferno! Quickly, put me on! We have no time to waste in our pursuit!”

Carn did not reply. Instead, he stepped closer to Aurielle. “Come with me,” he insisted, looking her in the eye. “Please,” he whispered.

Auriëlle loosened her arms. “Alright.” She whispered back, ready to follow him. The people of her Warband kept around her, though their eyes were more on Titania than on Carn.

Meanwhile, Titania kept shouting, ”Wearer? Wearer! Where are you going?! There’s justice to be served! WEARER!”

---

Carn led her back through the camp, through the ever-growing crowd, while ignoring the questioning glances. Eventually they made it back to his tent, and he led her through the entrance. Once inside, he turned to face her.

“What was that?” he asked quietly.

“Just testing her.” Auriëlle didn’t even try to hide the lie.

“That wasn’t just a test,” Carn said. “I’ve seen that look on you before. The horns are new, but the look in your eye wasn’t. You wanted her destroyed. Why?”

She kept her eyes off him. There was still anger in her and she didn’t want to unleash it. Not now. But she also knew what he already thought. That she was jealous. Maybe she was? “I’m not going to feed your ego.” She just said.

He did not relent. “Why did you think it was a good idea to attack the avatar of a god in full view of the entire camp?”

“Because I didn’t think!” She finally snapped at him. “Because I just saw her and hated her and wanted her gone! What? Afraid I’m going to divide your camp? Break your army? Give me a week and a quarter of this bloody warbands is going to love me! She’s the one who doesn’t belong here!”

“Why?” Carn demanded. “You just met her. She’s the Avatar of a God. It’s better to have her on our side than see her used against us!”

“Cause she’s an avatar of a God! Have you ever listened to her? Talking about justice and virtue and all that bullshit?” She wanted to keep shouting. To empty her soul. But she knew she couldn’t shout the next words. So with all her might she whispered at him: “What happens when she realizes you’re just in it for your brother? What happens after Ketrefa? Ever thought about that?” She grabbed the pitcher she left before and took a swig. Trying to wash down her rage a little longer.

“You say you do this because of your brother. If that were true you would’ve dyed your hair black, snuck in, got him out and ran far away. Instead you’re here preparing for war against Ketrefa, gathering an army, having an avatar on your side. You say you don’t want to be king? That’s fine. But don’t you fucking dare tell me you’re just doing this because of your brother. You love all this. You love leading an army and being a warlord.” Her words, even whispered, started with malice and anger. But at the end she just felt hollow. “It’s why I loved you.” She finally admitted.

She let silence reign for a moment. Before grabbing the wine pitcher and walking out. “Come find me when you’re finally done making stupid excuses for yourself.” She said. “Meanwhile I’m going to make sure your fifty packs of bloodhounds don’t tear each other’s throat out before we even see the grand prize.”

“Aurielle, wait!”

She didn’t.

She just vanished into the camp together with the six warriors of her warband.

Post Summary

Aurielle arrives at the camp where Carn’s army is forming up. She demands entry but the guards aren’t particularly impressed by her bravado. Anyway eventually she is taken to Carn, only to discover that he was napping. The two have a reunion, with Aurielle feeling guilty for leaving him but being unable to express her true feelings, while Carn is just shocked that she returned at all. He reveals a bit about why he’s doing all this, as well as some of his internal struggles.

Eventually he mentions Titania, causing Aurielle to get all jealous and demand to see her. Carn takes her there, interrupting Lothar who was in the middle of a conversation with the avatar. Lothar leaves, but not before recognizing Aurielle and clearly disapproving of her presence.

Anyway an awkward conversation ensues with Titania about the nature of her relationship with Carn. Aurielle’s mind is in the gutter so she immediately jumps to the worst possible conclusion. Then Aurielle attempts to destroy Titania, but only succeeds in burning down the tent. Carn drags her out and is like, “what the hell?” while Titania denounces her as a Champion of Evil.

Members of Aurielle’s cult then arrive, and it’s revealed that, because Titania possesses no eyes of her own and must rely entirely on divine senses, she can no longer perceive Aurielle. Thinking that Aurielle has run off, Titania demands that Carn put her on and hunt Aurielle down.

Carn ignores her, and instead drags Aurielle off for a private conversation. He attempts to get to the bottom of her outburst. Aurielle then goes on a rant about how an avatar of god doesn’t belong in their army, and implies that Titania is too naive to be relied on. She then accuses Carn of loving his role as a warlord, before confessing that she once loved him because of that. Then she leaves.

MP Spendage!

Titania 5MP/5DP
1DP: Perform godly feat - Extinguish Auriëlle’s flames and shield the surrounding people from them (and the table, too… Mostly.)
After: 5MP/4DP

Prestige Summary

Carn
Beginning Prestige: 22
+5 for 10k+ characters
Ending Prestige: 27

Auriëlle
Beginning Prestige: 29
+5 for 10k+ characters
Ending Prestige: 34

Cult of the Destroyer
Beginning Prestige: 8
+5 for 10k+ characters
Ending Prestige: 13

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

&

Nalla

“She’s not happy.” Those were the words uttered by the messenger after he gave Auriëlle her summons. She was to return to Nallan immediately. It was foreseen. Auriëlle had been staying put ever since Bul’Gadin. In truth, she saw her task as complete. The rebellions were squashed, other rulers or groups who could move against the Queen were taught a lesson and the heretics of the Light were driven out.

“Alright.” Auriëlle said. “Return to Nallan. I’m coming back. As per the queen’s wishes.” Somehow she was soft spoken now. But underneath her skin she felt anger. She knew the queen would be angry with her for burning Teperia. But still, it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

The call to break camp and go back to Nallan was given the next morning. Though this time around, the camp was broken down in less than a day. Most of her volunteer warriors had left to attend to their own matters. She had let them. Their task was done. Others remained. Though many looked at her with reverent eyes. It was a strange feeling. Nonetheless, in just a few short days they reached Nallan.

Many men lay host outside Nallan’s walls, men that were not her own. They guarded the roads in, held tight to the walls like vultures to a carcass and eyed her and her army with worrisome glares and soft whispers. They let her pass, alone, a small retinue keeping her company as they walked the empty streets. Once so vibrant with the joys of life, left empty with peering eyes from shadows. When they neared the palace of the Queen, more men could be found, wearing leathers with bows and swords, keeping watch with hushed talk. Most stood straighter when Auriëlle walked through the gates and up the path, alone now.

Inside the Palace, what was always so quiet before, never had such weight in the air. It was crushing and the very air was palpable with anticipation. She knew the way to the great, dark hall. Each of her footsteps a forewarning, akin to small claps of thunder. When she neared the great doors, they opened before she could even pause and she was welcomed by the dim light of torches and the Queen, sitting upon her throne. Nalla’s expression was dark, far darker than she had ever seen before. She wore a dress of crimson, a cloak of black and her lips were red upon her pale face. Her hair was loose, going past her shoulders and the familiar weight of the crown pressed into the room. Across her lap was a sheathed blade and her necklace glimmered in that dim light.

The doors behind Auriëlle shut with a boom that broke the silence in the air and Nalla spoke, her voice cold. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself, Auriëlle. So fiery indeed. Killing, pillaging, burning… You do like destruction, don’t you?”

The silence was unnerving. Auriëlle had promised herself to Nallan exactly because the queen’s rule created such a great and vibrant place in the shithole that was the highlands. Now something was clearly amiss. To Auriëlle, the queen radiated something sinister. Then again, she was a vampire. How could she not. Undeterred she stopped at her designated position and clasped her hands behind her back as a formal salute.

“Yes, my queen.” She said, trying to look beyond Nalla now. It didn’t work. For once though, she didn’t feel the need to disrespect her superior. Not that she could with the Queen’s strange, obedience inducing aura. This was, at most, just a formality. They were sworn to each other and right now, Auriëlle was on the cusps of her freedom. She just had to get through this.

“When I first saw you here, standing before me like you do now, I was intrigued. Never before had I seen another with such fiery hair, none that mattered anyways.” Nalla spoke, slightly leaning her head to gaze upon her. “Imagine my surprise when I was told what a great and powerful sorcerer you were, and still are. I thought to myself, now, there was one who could be useful, and I was right. You slew that Leon Rider in the south, unified that part of my kingdom, and then you went north without hesitation. A dutiful soldier, a growing commander. Loved by men, touched by the gods. For how else could one achieve so much? You only have to look at me to know that truth.” She paused, letting the silence return.

“I told you to use the Light as a justification for war.” She spat. “I don’t recall mentioning that the city of Teperia could be burned for its defiance. Unless I’m mistaken. Unless I’m wrong. Do enlighten me, Auriëlle.”

The muscles in Auriëlle’s back tightened but her expression remained neutral. As if chiseled from stone. “The fanatics wouldn’t yield and the heretic infestation ran too deep.” She explained with a calm voice. “I burned them to send a message. You will not be denied. This way, you could demand the submission of all neighboring cities and towns.” Who would be so stupid as to say no to Nalla now? It would be akin to suicide.

“But you did not stop at Teperia, did you?” Nalla asked.

“The druids could still challenge your rule.” She stated coldly. “Bul’Gadin was a small village. Away from the river. It served its purpose: to show that Teperia was not a one-time threat.”

“Were there any survivors in Bul’Gadin and Teperia?” Nalla glared.

“I made sure there were none.” Of course there were survivors. When you purge a city, even dumb luck can allow you to survive. Someone could’ve run away at the start of siege through some hidden passage. Maybe they were buried in a cellar so the flames couldn’t reach them, nor could Auriëlle’s men. Of course she had done everything in her power to make sure there were as little survivors as possible, but in truth she couldn’t be absolutely sure.

The Queen furrowed her brow. “Your tenure is up, so you best be right, Auriëlle. If I have to put down future revolts because of your actions this year, I will be very, very unhappy. To burn not one, but two places where a considerable amount of people live, is unfortunate.” She snapped her fingers, and from the shadows to her right a man came holding a wooden platter. Nalla took the human skull that sat beside the pitcher and let the man pour the crimson in and returned to the shadows.

She took a sip from the skull and said, “You are well versed with fire, aren’t you? So you should know how dangerous a spark is left unchecked, allowed to grow. It can burn even the oldest forests to naught but ash.” She moved her eyes from Auriëlle and to her ‘cup’. “Even now I wonder where I would be without you.” She whispered before her eyes snapped back to Auriëlle. “Not to mention the Druids… Who pledge themselves to numerous gods. Gods who take offense when their chosen are murdered. Did you think about that when you did it?”

A small grin escaped Auriëlle before she restored her cold expression. “I did, your majesty. I never touched a druid.” She made sure they would be gone. When they would return, they would find a corpse bound to a broken altar. But none could claim they were harmed. “My council would be this: make clear I come back. I swore on Tekret, you know this. If they know that as well, why would they rebel? Sooner rather than later I would return and put them all to death.”

“Well, I am so relieved you did not touch a druid.” Nalla scoffed, taking another sip before saying, “What an ample threat. One easily forgotten if you do not return at all, however. I think I can say I know wherever you go, death and destruction will follow and mortal life is so fragile. As careful as one can be, even with all their tricks and power, one wrong trip and your dead. But, it might buy me a couple of years at the most, What is that to me though? Time is so… Short, anymore.” Nalla mused. “Where will you be going next? Somewhere cold I hope.” she asked, eyeing her again.

Auriëlle disregarded the queen’s musings on mortality. She would simply have to trust that Auriëlle could keep herself alive until she returned. It wasn’t as if she was failing at that in the past decade or so. “I will be back.” She simply stated. When the queen asked where she’d go, the answer was simple. Though not so easy to say. For a few seconds silence reigned. Before Auriëlle finally admitted: “I’ll go to the one I miss. It’s not cold where he is now. If the tales are to believe. My queen, I would now like to ask for my leave.”

Nalla rose, placing her sword upon the throne’s arm. “I am surprised. You are unusually quiet, as if your fiery spirit had been chained. Or perhaps you’ve finally learned when not to speak so recklessly.” She placed a finger on her chin. “Hmm, no matter. You may leave, Auriëlle.” She sat back down. “Do have a safe and fulfilling trip. Oh… and one more thing. Do be careful, dear Auriëlle. I would just hate to lose you.” She smiled, but behind her eyes, the hunger and malice remained.

For a second the sorceress’ body tensed up as Nalla stood up. Would she allow her to leave? Would she entrance her again, like she had done a year ago? Auriëlle’s fire was only skin deep now. She was ready to cast her magic in an instant, should it be required. Luckily for everyone, the queen let her go. Auriëlle never deigned the queen’s last comment with a reply. She simply left the dark and empty feeling palace.

Once outside, she let out a deep sigh. Though Nalla’s guard still kept their eyes on her. What fools they were. None of them could be veterans of her own battles. No matter how tough they might look, She knew that they were green behind the ears. “This is what you’re going to use?” Auriëlle muttered to herself as she was escorted through the empty streets again. “I hope you don’t intend to use fear, Nalla. That won’t work. Not even with the promise of my return. You should make them love you now.” The guard looked at her for a second but the sorceress didn’t care.

At the gate, one of her own warriors was talking with someone else, a civilian from the looks of it. She interrupted the conversation though. “Esiré. Prepare the people that wanted to come along. We’re heading for Ketrefa.”

Esiré gave the sorceress a small bow and then left. Only then did Auriëlle notice who she was talking to. “Beozaar!” Auriëlle exclaimed, as she clasped his forearm in a traditional warrior greeting. “You look… different? I honestly thought you would be a warrior until I had to kill you.”

“Aye, I thought so too. But after Bul’Gadin… I don’t know. I felt a need to settle down you know. Become a little calmer. I took up carpentry.” He said with a smile. Though his heart was beating faster and faster. Would she see beyond his façade? Would she realize his true goal? The scars on his back began to itch.

“Remind me to never buy a chair from you.” Auriëlle said. Her expression was still friendly. Then both of them heard Esiré yell something from behind the sorceress. “I think that’s my cue. Stay alive for me, Beozaar! And find a woman!” She yelled as she made her way towards her already packing warriors.

“I will.” Beozaar shouted back as he waved at her. Though the second she was far enough, he felt a wave of melancholy wash over him. This could’ve been the last time he saw the Prophetess. Maybe someday she would kill him. Or his sons and daughters. Or his grandchildren. Who was to know when the end of the world would come. His sense of duty kicked back in as he turned around and marched back home.

Seconds later he heard someone knock on his door. It wasn’t a normal knock. It was the coded knock they used to announce fellow cult-members. It also allowed any cult-member to just enter anyone’s house. They had sworn to never keep secrets to each other. A scrawny man entered Beozaar’s very humble abode. “Beozaar.” He said. “I think we’ve found some troublesome people.”

Summary

Auriëlle is called back to Nallan by the queen. The messenger warns her the queen is not happy with her achievements. Once in Nallan, she notices how the place has changed. The streets are empty, everything is quiet. There are far more guards out and about than before. Guards not of Auriëlle’s army. She is received by the queen, who tells her the justification for war with Teperia was only the Light and why on earth did she burn the city down. Auriëlle defends herself by saying that the city was too infested with heretics. Then the queen asks why she also burned Bul’Gadin. To which Auriëlle responds that she did it to deliver a message to the druids. Though she never killed one of them. In the end, the queen lets her go and Auriëlle doesn’t look back.

At the gate she meets Esiré, one of the warriors that chose to follow Auriëlle beyond the service to Nallan. She is meeting with Beozaar, a friend and brother in battle of Auriëlle. They talk for a minute and then say their goodbyes. After which Beozaar goes back home to prepare to deal with some rowdy people in Nallan.

Prestige

Post Length: +10K characters
+5 Prestige >> Auriëlle
+5 Prestige >> The Cult of the Destroyer

Nalla = 20
+5
= 25

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

A single light walked along the path. It was a path less travelled these times. Many outright avoided it. The farmers’ fields stopped some time ago. Wild grasses and flowers were already blossoming amongst the untouched plains. Mixed amongst the abandoned wheat. Wilderness was already slowly reclaiming the path as well. Few ventured so close to the husk of Teperia. Ever since it was razed to the ground some six months ago. Some said it was haunted. That you could still hear the screams of the death and dying. Some said that you could still see the orange glow above the city’s wall at night. As if it was still burning.

Beozaar had no time for such tales. The many scars on his body each told a tale. The ones on his back told a tale of the Gardens. His far off home. The one on his wrist told the tale of Nallan, where he was imprisoned. The burned skin on his cheek though, that marked his presence in Teperia on that fateful day. The power he had witnessed there. It was awe inspiring. His entire life he felt as if he was drifting away from the Gardens. Now he realized some greater entity, perhaps a god, had guided him towards Auriëlle. The Prophet. The Witch of Fire.

As he approached the quiet walls of Teperia, he looked up. Somehow the stars looked a little darker tonight. The purple moon looked pale and pink and far away. A chill wind blew through the still broken gate. It was beckoning him, he knew it. Without doubt or reservations he walked inside. The city had changed. Some of the ash had turned white like snow.

A cloaked figure approached him. She too wielded a torch but kept most of her face hidden under a hood. Still, Beozaar could see her smirk. “I didn’t think you would show up.” She said.

“How could I miss it?” Beozaar responded. The woman turned around and he followed her. “How many more came?”

“Most who were at Bul’Gadin answered the call. Some decided to remain with Auriëlle. They see it as an honor.” The woman said as she made her way through a path that wasn’t entirely hidden but wasn’t obvious to find. You had to know where to step. This was how it was with the cult. “Most are nervous though.” The woman continued. “I think they know what you’ll ask of them.” She stopped and turned around. Even though she was smaller than him, he could feel her presence bearing down on him. “It’s their home, Beozaar. I know you hate yours but they don’t hate theirs. We can wait. We could-“

“Stop.” His voice was soft, almost caring. It instantly silenced the woman. “You have seen what I have seen, Esira. And you felt what I felt as well.” But he knew why she was so apprehensive. Nallan took her in. Made her the woman she was now. Not some chieftain’s wife but a woman of her own rights. He hugged her tightly and she returned it with the same affection. “I promise you, it’s for the better.”

Esira pressed her lips together as she fought the tears welling up in her eyes. Eventually though, she had to let go. “Come. The rest are waiting.”

After a few more minutes of walking, Esira and Beozaar arrived at the campfire. Around it sat many cloaked figures. Casting long shadows on the half-ruined buildings around them. They had made their camp on the plaza in front of the broken temple of the Light. Stones from the ruined altar, still brown and black from the blood, surrounded the fire. Some mumbled their greetings, others only had eye for the flames.

“Friends.” Beozaar greeted them. His voice was still gentle but louder. The murmur vanished. “Thank you, all of you, for coming.” His eyes went over everyone around the fire. He knew most of them by name at least. “I’ve called you here because we must confront two issues. The first is a matter of home and hearth. Nallan.” He began to walk around the fire. “It’s the city the Prophetessswore herself to. You know this. But it creates a problem for the inevitable end of this world. The Prophetesscannot lay low Nallan. So we must do it.” People began to look at eachother, but didn’t dare utter a word. “Brothers, sisters. What I’m asking here is no easy task. I know this.” He stopped and the people around him made way for him to sit. “We cannot destroy Nallan like we destroyed Teperia and Bul’Gadin. What we need to be is poison. Have the kingdom in the palm of our hands, ready to kill it.” When he fell silent, the first whispers began to travel amongst the group. Beozaar let them for a while. He shared a smile with Esira, before he ushered them all to calm down again.

“We must also look beyond the borders of Nallan. This world is doomed. We know it. The Prophetess told us. But we must prepare for its inevitability. When Galbar burns, it must burn bright and swiftly. So it is ready for the next world. To that end, we must prepare it. Our first goal, our first target, is the ancient city of Ketrefa. The crown jewel of our lands. The Prophetess will travel in that direction when she is released from her duty in a few days. Esiré-“ He motioned at her. “-will lead the warband that follows her.”

“Now you must chose. I have one last warning. If you chose to aid me in preparing Nallan, know that you’ll one day be hunted. Your friends, your queen, they will all hate you. The Prophetess herself will no doubt come and deliver your death. This is if we can witness the end of this world in our life. If we don’t, know that your duty will not stop with you. You remain with me and you will sacrifice your very bloodline. Your children and their children’s children will have to follow your path. Remain with me only if you are absolute in your conviction. Because if you aren’t, I swear to you that I will erase your existence. The other choice is to follow Esiré. She will follow Auriëlle and work as a mercenary. You will never return to Nallan, but you will see what this world has to offer and prepare it for the End. Chose now.”

More than two third of the people present rose and walked over to Esiré. Beozaar locked eyes with every man and woman who remained around the fire. In each he saw the right thing: total conviction. He let out a grunt and a nod in thanks. Esiré left with her people.

“So..” one who remained said. “Where do we start?”

Beozaar grinned. “We start… by becoming model citizens.”

Summary

Beozaar called a meeting of the Cult of the Destroyer in the ravaged city of Teperia. First he has a small discussion with his second in command, Esiré. She begs him not to put his dilemma forth but he stops he protest and says it’s for the best of all. At the meeting, on the plaza in front of the ruined temple of the Light, he explains his plan: because Auriëlle, the Prophetess, swore allegiance to Nallan (and technically the Tekhret still upholds that) they know she cannot move against Nallan. But Nallan needs to be destroyed as well in the great purge before the world can be reborn. So he explains that they must control and corrupt Nallan from the inside.

The other option for the cultists is to follow Esiré, who will form a mercenary warband that follows Auriëlle and spread the hidden influence of the Cult. More than two third chose to abandon home and follow Esiré. She leaves with them, preparing to march towards Ketrefa alongside the Prophetess. Beozaar, in turn, tells his people to become model citizens of Nallan.

Prestige

Post Length: 6.2K
+3 Prestige >> Cult of the Destroyer

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Soleira was drenched in sweat as she watched the sun get low on the horizon. Next to her stood a large stone, half-way carved in the shape of a heart. Dust and gravel laid around it. In her hands she held a sharpened rock. It was getting blunt now though. Soon she’d have to replace it. Below she could see the gentle tendrils of white smoke rise from cooking fires. The village had grown significantly in the past few years. Perhaps because it was one of the safer places in the Luminant. With the aid of the animals and the wingless ones, most of Soleira’s siblings were kept out. Neiyari and Oraeliari alike. Though the later siblings were mostly kept out due to superstition and Soleira was too afraid to face them still. Nonetheless, she had created a nice and peaceful corner in this colorful land. Probably mostly because her siblings didn’t care for this place. They cared about the white dome, the black tower and the great, healing lake.

“You’ve been hard at work.” A voice coming from behind her said.

The four-winged angel rose up to face the elder wingless one and smiled. “It’s a gift. To a goddess. I hope she’ll like it.”

The elder rested a hand on the unfinished statue. “It will be big.” She noted. “How long have you been working on it now?”

“A few moments every day for a week. Don’t worry, I haven’t shirked my duties.” Soleira said as she followed the elderly lady who walked around the stone. “The animals are still our friends and the land is still full of colorful plants.”

“Oh dear, the last thing I would be afraid of is you shirking your duties.” The elder said. “You should rest, child. Your Oraeliara wouldn’t mind, I am sure. You’ve slaved so hard for the land already. Everyone needs a minute to sit down.”

“Thank you, but I rest plenty when I sleep. I’ll rest more when I’m older. Right now there’s too much to do.” Now Soleira touched the stone. “Even this… sometimes feels like a waste of valuable time.” She knew it not to be true. The statue had to be finished. It had to be. It would be the only way she could talk to her. Nonetheless, deep inside she did feel a yearning for a slower day. So she could just lay down in the soft grass, listen to the breeze and feel the warm sun on her skin. But rest was for the old. She hadn’t deserved it yet.

A year later the stone was finally finished. It was shaped in the form of a heart and while it wasn’t very polished or expertly crafted, it was still very big. Soleira had watched it for three straight days now. Every time she was about to kneel down and pray, she felt doubt creep up along her spine. Would it be enough? Would Neiyara like it? Those were questions she couldn’t find an answer to. But on the mid-afternoon of the fourth day she forced herself on her knees in front of the stone. She clasped her hands together, closed her eyes and prepared to say her prayer.

But she stopped. What if Neiyara would harm her? Her people did. She swallowed deeply. There was only one thing she could do: “Father.” She whispered as she bowed her head. “I don’t know if you can hear this. I don’t know if you… even care. I would understand if you don’t. There’s so much happening in the world. But just… if you happen to hear this. I-I might be… I’m scared. But I know I have to do it. I know I have to pray to her. It’s just. If you have the time and the energy, please. Please I’m begging you, I could really use someone right now.”

She released a deep sigh after her prayer. Letting all doubt and fear flow out of her heart. There was not much more she could do. Fate shouldn’t be kept waiting. So after the deep sigh she clasped her hands together again, lowered her head and closed her eyes. “Neiyara. I pray to you now. I know I’m an Oraeliari but I really, really hope you can find a moment to talk to me.”

A deep silence seemed to overtake the world around her for just a moment, before the air itself began to feel humid and cloying. A sighed breath sounded in her head, and felt as though it brushed against her ear. A gentle pressure dug into her mind, a dulling sensation that made focusing on her surroundings harder. "An errant child seeking solace, a warm-hearted woman returning to the fold. How could I refuse? I am here for you, my sweet, so sing your worries that I may soothe you." a sultry voice rang out in her mind.

Soleira swallowed deeply. Fear crept up her spine. Something inside of her wanted her to just stop the prayer and fly away. But right now she couldn’t run. She shouldn’t! The breath of the goddess sent down another shiver through her. Her heart felt small and meek but she persevered. Even though she felt her own senses pulling back from the world she loved so much. That she embraced completely. With her eyes closed and her wings folding over her as to form a protective shield. This would be a fight of her heart. “T-Thank you.” She managed to stammer out. “For listening to me. I-I made a statue for you. I hope you like it.” Now came the hard part. “I… worry about you, goddess.” She hoped that did not appear offensive.

"A statue hewn from stone, yet unique in every way. I love it, my dear. None other is quite like it," the voice returned, inviting and soft. "Not many have the heart to worry for others, let alone their creator. Why do you worry for me, my one and only?"

“I-I think you’re hurting.” Soleira said. “As the goddess of love, I think you are in a way also the goddess of heartbreak. And I think you are carrying a lot of pain.” And then her bravery slipped. With the words said, it fled her. Her body began to shiver in response to the goddess’ presence. She would get hurt. Maybe she deserved it, for daring to speak up against a goddess the way she did. Whatever happened next, she couldn’t bear to see it coming. So she squeezed her eyes completely shut.

A long silence followed. Due to the strange sensation in the air, and the pressing intent in the back of her head, she knew she was still watched, yet for the longest time the goddess did not speak. When words once more flowed from within her own mind, there was an edge that had not been there before. A veiled temper hinted beneath the sugary tone. "How sweet of you to think of me, my dearest. And what would you do with such thoughts? Have you come to heal a goddess? Do what no one else has thought to do? Perhaps, what no one else can do?”

“N-No.” Soleira meekly admitted. She had gone over this a thousand times as she was carving the rock. Who was she? A mere mortal. What could she do to really help a goddess? She was alone amongst the billions of mortals on the planet. “No I don’t think-“ She stopped and swallowed deeply. “I don’t think I can, goddess. I’m just a mortal. You’re a goddess. I don’t think I could ever heal you. I don’t think I could even come close.” She was just little Soleira. The same little Soleira that had talked to the goddess of life and light. “But-“ There was a weak sense of defiance in her. “I was just thinking, no… hoping, that there would be something small I can do. Something to maybe help ease the pain just a little bit.”

A quiet tut followed, and Soleira felt something run up gently between her collarbones, a set of invisible fingers dragging up her skin and dipping up to slide under her chin. A caress turned into a gentle push to lift her chin. "Oh, you long to help others, don't you? Even someone you cannot see, far above your station. So you carved a stone to appease the unknown. Come out of your shell, my one and only. Stand proud for what you've done." the voice continued, and the pressure under her chin increased as though someone was pulling her to stand.

Soleira understood, and slowly rose up from her knees. But she wouldn’t lie. “I-It’s not pride, goddess. Please. I just want to help.” Did she overreach? Was this too much? Her wings stretched themselves out as that little voice in the back of her head told her to run. To fly and flee as far as she could. Away from this place.

"How will you help me?” the voice asked inquisitively as the pressure under her chin vanished. A gentle breeze rolled past, tousling her hair gingerly like fingers rustling through it affectionately. "I’ll hear your every desire, my darling sweet.”

“I-I don’t know.” She was hoping the goddess would. Love meant nothing if there was no pain. That was something she learned some time ago. If she hadn’t cried when the old, grey wolf died, what kind of friendship would they have in the first place. But at the same time, that love should always conquer pain. It should always end well. But how could she ever assure such an outcome? “I can only ask. So I’m asking: what can I do to ease your pain? Even for just a little bit?”

A breath skirted past her ear softly, brushing against skin, though there was no one present to do so. "My beautiful darling, your presence on the world is enough to soothe a thousand hearts. Yet mine longs for more than words,” the voice murmured, a conspiratorial, low tone. A strange sensation ran over her form, like many hands stealing touches, sending ripples over her skin. The wind appeared to pick up around her, leaves and dirt whipping up in a wide torrent centered around her and the stone. "I accept your gift, Soleira, yet my pain is not a simple one. Not like wolves, or squirrels, or birds. You can ease it, my sweet. All you need to do is want it. Will you help a weary soul?” As the voice resounded in her mind, the ground itself appeared to tremble and rumble ever so slightly, though her footing was steady as ever.

Soleira felt some sort of force mounting around her. The influence of Neiyara, she assumed. The goddess’ sweet words touched the four-winged angel deeply. “Yes, I will.” She said with some more confidence in her heart. “But-“ And it fled again. Was she even in the position to make a request? She had to. For the good of all. She had to. “But I feel like I must say something first. So it was said. So it is known. If I am to sooth the pain of others, I don’t want to sooth all of it. Nor do I want to sooth it immediately after they experienced it. Love…would be meaningless if without pain.”

"You have more wisdom than you know, my dearest.” the voice asserted with a sensual sigh that seemed to brush against Soleira’s cheek. Yet around her, the wind picked up to a whipping howl, and the world beyond the torrent began to vanish between a whirl of leaves and debris. The rumble grew in intensity and sound, until the ground beneath her feet actually began to quake. At first the stone carved for the goddess shifted ever so slightly, an uneasy tilt as though it stood unevenly. The reason quickly became apparent; beneath it expanded a yawning tear in the world itself, replacing the ground with an ephemeral shimmer. It grew and grew, eating the ground before Soleira until it spanned beyond the confines of the stone on each side. Like it weighed down on reality itself, the stone shifted uneasily and began to sink into the tear, vanishing from sight. Glimpses of another land flashed between stone and shimmer - pink flowers, the sound of a river somehow overpowering the sound of the wind. A structure, perhaps? "Will you ease my pain, child? Come to me.”

Soleira was about to take a step, when suddenly a pressure began to mount around her. Neiyara’s presence was joined by another. The air grew thick and heavy. She felt energy all around her pulse and rage. “Hold.” She heard from a voice she’d never heard before, but she did as she was told. From then on, whatever entity or presence that had joined her no longer spoke in mortal words. It spoke in pressure and weight. In a language Soleira could feel but not comprehend. But to the goddess, the presence would be familiar. A sibling, who chose not to speak with mortal tongues. The message of the presence was simple: ‘The Angel is to remain on Galbar.’

The world trembled as the stone fell through entirely, growing smaller and gently setting down far below beside a pavilion of marble and wood. It seemed miniscule, far below in the hole in reality. At the angle, Soleira could only barely see movement within, legs shifting position before being hidden by the roof. "I long for your aid. Your opportunity will not last long, my sweet. Come to me. Heal me.” Invisible fingers seemed to clasp around her waist, and tug at her gently. A strange ripple of emotion coursed up through her waist, warm and fulfilling yet yearning. An itch for more, to feel good and see the goddess smile. To soothe the heart of perhaps the most hurt of all. The sensation crashed over her like a wave from the ocean, shooting a longing into her heart that she knew was not her own but still couldn’t help but listen to. How good it would be to help a goddess. Perhaps there would be peace. Perhaps all would settle. It would be so easy to step into the hole and go to the pavilion. To give in, and be the healer she wanted to be.

“She needs me.” Soleira muttered, as she reached out and took another step. The pressure around her quaked. Stone began to crack. To the divine the message was simple: ‘No!’ The presence would not let Soleira go. Around her the very same type of barrier that she herself could conjure appeared. Locking her into a bubble. The second she realized what was happening, she began to bang on the blue, crystal-like substance. “She needs me! Let me go! I can help her! Let me go!” With her fists she banged against the barrier. She didn’t even stop when her knuckles began to bleed; “I can help her!” She kept screaming. With everyone hit on the barrier, the pressure in the area mounted. Waves of energy were released from it. Once more only understandable by the divine: ’Sister! Release her from your hold. She is not yours to take!’

The pressure continued to mount, energy coiling into the sky and mingling with the whipping whirlwind around her. The need grew with each moment, until the tear in reality began to ripple uneasily and the pavilion began to fade from view. The wound in the world did not close so much as it evaporated, leaving behind only ground where once a mighty carved stone had stood. With the closing of the window into another world, the sensation and need to join the goddess began to ebb away - a mere flight of fancy, leaving only confusion and fatigue.

When the tear faded away, so too did the bubble holding Soleira. The second presence’s pressure vanished in an instant as well. Soleira’s body felt stiff and ached. As if she had just run half a day. With the bubble gone, she collapsed on her knees. “W-What just happened..?” She asked out loud as she watched the ground. Her mind could barely process it. The alien feelings, instilled by the goddess, were fleeing her mind. But she still felt a lingering sensation. Was it… anger? Anger because someone had held her back. “I.. should’ve helped her.” She muttered out loud, realizing she had failed and tears welled up.

The whirlwind remained around her however, decreased in strength but still present. "I'm disappointed, Soleira," the voice began anew, sullen and bitter. "To entice a goddess so, yet give her nothing but words and tribute. Your gift will serve as a bittersweet reminder of a promise unfulfilled." The winds picked up and the pressure in the back of her head increased alongside it. "I mark you now, with the same sorrow I see, so that you may forever know the futility of your actions." At that, the whirlwind paused for a brief moment before turning inwards and surging towards Soleira's heart.

“I-I’m sorry! I just-“ Her words were smothered by the whirlwind racing towards her heart. She doubled over. Tears kept streaming off her cheeks. She forced open her eyes, only to see herself coated in some sort of deep blue mist. Sadness grew to bitterness in her heart as she looked upwards. “I hate you!” She screamed. Not at Neiya. No the hate and sorrow boiling over in her heart were directed to the strange entity that had stopped her. That had blocked her from fulfilling her destiny. “I hate you! I should’ve helped her! I-I was born for that! Why did you stop me! Why?!” She screamed upwards towards the skies.

A last breathed sigh brushed against her ear, ran like a gust of wind through her hair, and finally vanished into the ether. With it, the whirlwind subsided and calmed. The air grew quiet at once, the cloying and heavy feeling lifting away. Likewise, the pressure at the back of her head slowly wore away until nothing remained to push upon her mind. Leaves, grass and pebbles fell to the ground. The goddess was gone.

Summary

Top nice girl Soleira is all sweaty - but for a good reason; she has a foolproof plan that involves carving a stone into a specific shape. In the triangle of quality, time and cost, Soleira sacrifices time and spends a year on her hobby project. The result; a seven foot stone chipped into the shape of a non-gross heart.

After a swift prayer to her mana-daddy, Soleira enacts her extremely clever and thought-out plan to contact Neiya. Neiya - who doesn't get a lot of calls from nice angels - picks up and is all up on her trying to do her usual shenanigans. Soleira is too pure to get it and offers Neiya the heart-rock, and also is like "gurl, I know you hurtin, lemme make it better baby".

Neiya thinks that is a super dope idea and opens a magic sinkhole portal under the heart-stone, and is all like "Netflix and chill at my place?"

Soleira agrees at first but Qael, who's been waiting on the porch of Soleira's mind is all like 'hell naw, get your catty claws outa my daughter'. Neiya tries anyway by uhhhh encouraging the Oraeliari, but Qael grounds her until the portal closes.

Neiya punishes Soleira for leading her on, cursing her to see spooky fog when people are sad. Soleira gets mad at Qael for blocking her date choices.

DP & MP

Neiya Starting MP/DP: 5/3

-1 DP - Sorrow Sight I: (Creatures who experience sadness and sorrow in this character's proximity appear to be surrounded by a translucent deep blue mist visible only to the character.)

- 1 MP- Opened a portal to Galbar under a big stone.

- 1DP- Overwhelmed Soleira's sense of reason with the desire to be with and help Neiya for a little while. (1/5 Lust)

Ending MP/DP: 4/1
2/5 Pride
1/5 Lust

Qael Starting MP/DP: 5/5
- 1DP - Create bubble of crystalized mana to stop Soleira
Qael Ending MP/DP: 5/4

Prestige

Post Length: +10K Characters
+5 Prestige >> Soleira

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Dawn of Anghebad: First of the Mystics

The Arena was quickly becoming the center of Anghebad. Some ten years ago it was nothing more than a pit with some carved, earthen seats. Now it was a big complex. With sandstone walls and even separate rooms in which clay tablets were to be stored. There was even a small market on the square outside of it. The higher benches were for onlookers while the lower benches, enjoying shadows cast from long cloths, were larger and meant for students. At the entrance of the practice area Orb floated on a pedestal. Overseeing the teaching and practice of magic. Today especially the Arena was hosting a large gathering. King Hamurai’s guard were making a way through the crowd so the king could pass through without a problem. The Arena lacked any special tribune or seating for the king. Instead he made his way to the lower levels. The king had fashioned himself an eternal student of magic.

There was a reason people had gathered in the Arena. Gusts of wind rushed through the openings between the walls and air was sucked back into it. It created a constantly shifting breeze. When the King finally reached the lower levels he folded his arms as he watched what was happening. At first glance, it would’ve appeared as if two women were dancing, their joint moves directing and bending the winds. One of them was clearly different from the rest of Anghebad entirely. She was slightly larger and lines of paint were drawn on her skin. Her partner dressed in tight fitting gear. In contrast the painted woman’s lose clothing moved with grace through the constantly shifting air. The two of them seemed entwined in an intricate dance. Guided by the loud, rhythmic beating of drums.

The king, however, knew well enough that it wasn’t just a dance. It was a duel. Every move was known and deliberate, demanding a response of the mana and the winds it controlled. Orb had taught them that. A wrong move weakens your position and footing, allowing your opponent, if they are skilled, to push their advantage. Force you to make even more missteps, until the mountain of errors is too big and the dance breaks. But the dance also wouldn’t work if each side simply did their own thing. Each move was extremely well defined and taught with precision in mind. The Dances, a path of magic created with the help of Orb, was as much a duel as it was an exercise in the improvement of your own skill.

At the moment, there was no clear winner. At least not to those with no eye for magic. But the King saw beyond the façade of equality. The painted woman was handily beating her opponent. But instead of delivering the final strike and ending the dance, she helped her. With every misstep, imbalance is created and the painted woman rectified that balance almost immediately. She wasn’t toying with her though. Well, not until the Whirl-Steps began. Then it would have appeared that the painted woman’s opponent was simply outmatched. The younger woman lost her footing. The wind carried her upwards for a second, before she fell down on the ground. The painted woman made her finishing moves, beseeching the mana and the winds to calm down again, as she would find her inner calm as well. Drums were silenced.

The second she was finished, she rushed over to her partner and helped her up. “You did well.” The king could hear her say. “The Whirl-Steps are too much for you yet. Take some time. Learn the first five sets. You’re doing very good.” The younger woman smiled, dusted her off and the two moved towards Orb in the shadow.

“You have shown exemplar improvements my lady.” Orb said towards the younger woman. “Lady Enura is right. You should focus on improving your first five steps. The Whirl-Steps are yet too treacherous.” His runes lit up as the sound waved through the area. Several other students were listening attentively, as was King Hamurai. He was never one for the Dances though. None the less he could recognize skill. When the short lesson was finished, two other students stood up and moved towards the center, into the light of the sun. They took their respective position and began their joined dance.

Lady Enura, in the meantime, walked over to the King and kissed him deeply. “My sun.” he said as he embraced her. “You looked radiant.”

“I always look radiant.” Lady Enura, or rather Queen Enura said. Though she never liked the title of Queen. She then turned around to watch the young woman she had dueled with. The woman was sitting on the edge of her seat, observing every step the two students were making in the sunlight. “She’s attentive. A few more years and she’ll join your magisters.” There was pure pride in Enura’s voice. “So why did you come all the way down the hole? Orb has no glyph lessons today?”

“I’ve come for you.” The king said as he turned away from the spectacle and guided his wife as he walked. “There’s been more sightings.”

“Golden lights?” Enura immediately asked. “Others, magisters, have seen them as well?”

“They have. We don’t know what they are. Orb has no answers either. We’re planning to send out a group of magisters to investigate the golden lights tonight. In the dark.” The King said, his voice betrayed a level of concern. “I just pray to the nameless god that these things are benevolent.”

“Prayer doesn’t work.” Enura stated coldly. It was one thing she hated about magic. They knew its god existed. They knew he held stewardship over all spells. Yet he refused to bear a name or to answer prayers. Even Orb refused to utter his name. He said it had no consequence. To know or not to know his name, it wouldn’t matter in a prayer. Instead he looked at those who advanced magic beyond its limits. Time and time again. Why the god himself wasn’t guiding them was beyond her. “You’ll tell me when they found something?”

“I think you’ll tell me.” The King said with a small smirk.

Enura frowned. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’ll know what those lights are sooner than I will.”

“Wait… that means.” Enura was shocked for a second. “I can lead the magisters!?”

“By royal decree.” The King said. “You’re stronger than almost all of them. My love. I’m sorry it took so long for me to accept that. But I can’t stop you anymore. Just… be careful. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if you go hurt… Or worse-“

Before the King could finish that sentence, Enure kissed him to shut him up. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I will be back.”

---

That Night…
Enura was the first to spot the golden mote in the distance. It was a small, fickle looking thing. Dancing over a very small stream. Behind her, the magisters walked. Most of them older men, well versed in the glyphic magic developed in the last ten years with the aid of Orb. The glyphs were entirely new. Many felt it prudent not to use the already existing cuneiform, as they didn’t want to accidentally use a spell. To that end the magisters had already held three grand concordats in an effort to establish the glyphs and the other ways of magic.

They were less than happy to be led by a woman though. Especially a woman who practiced the path of Dances. Enura knew well what the old farts would be gossiping about. It didn’t matter. She could leave them all in the sand, rocks and dirt if she wanted to. When the night was at its peak, the group arrived at the mote. Most of the old men began to write on their tablets, in an effort to draw out some information about the golden light. Enura walked around it. Turning around, walking backwards, and turned around again. She switched her direction and switched it again and again. She could feel the golden mote reverberate somehow, as she closed her eyes. There was something there. A structure. A pattern. Her instinct told her that. Even though her own senses couldn’t feel anything but chaos.

“There is something…” one of the old magisters pipped up. “The light’s perfect structure.”

“Stop talking.” Enura said. The magisters looked up surprised. Most were looking at Enura with angry scowls. How dare she interrupt an erudite man!? But some, some looked confused at their colleague.

“It’s not chaos.” One of the confused looking one’s said. “But it’s not order either. It’s something… bigger.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Nuraï!?” the first magister said as he stood up. “I am ten years your senior! Know your place. The light is obviously a clearly defined-“

“It’s not.” Enura said. “It’s not at all clearly defined. It’s constantly shifting.” She looked at Nuraï, who nodded in agreement. “But it’s big. Something runs through it like.. like how blood runs through us.” Carefully she touched the golden light as she tried to tie her own magic to something within the light. “It is…something more than mortal.”

“Orb said all spells are constructs within the mana.” The magister by the name of Nuraï said. “Maybe this is… also a spell? I mean look at the light. It isn’t made from anything that makes light. Nor does it feel warm. It’s just mana given form and somehow-”

“A form we can see.” Enura locked eyes with Nuraï. For a second they shared a subconscious sense of knowing. Of understanding each other. Then suddenly, he consciousness was grasped by the spell. Her magic wasn’t just taken, it was grasped and pulled in. Symbols flashed through her mind. Symbols of impossible geometry.

“My lady!” One of the magisters exclaimed.

She didn’t hear him. Her mind was consumed by the spell, trying desperately to understand that which she could not understand. The impossibilities were altered in her mind. Changed to more manageable, if not less accurate, representations. New, simpler shapes overlaid the first ones. Incomprehensible words were given mortal expressions. Finally, the core concept of the spell were given a pale, worldly comprehension.

When the spell released Enura from its hold, she collapsed on her knees. The symbols were still in her mind, or at least the mortal interpretations. “Tablet! Give me a tablet, now!” She yelled, even though she was out of breath. Her body was sweating. Most of the magisters were too shocked to move. Only Nuraï moved and handed her a wooden frame, with still moist clay with in it. Enura ran the stylus over it to flatten the clay and instantly began to draw the symbols she remembered, along with words written in cuneiform. When she was done, the last of the insight the spell had given her faded away. Leaving her mind like it was.

“What does it mean?” Nuraï asked as he observed the tablet.

“I have no idea.”

summary

We are introduced to Enura, a former “princess” of the amazons. She is now queen of Anghebad and a dreadfully good mage of the Path of Dance, a path she helped create with the help of Orb. After her duel, she speaks with her husband. Who tells her others have been seeing the same golden sprites she saw.

At night she leads a group of magisters, the mages caste of Anghebad, beyond the city towards one of the golden glowing motes. Some magisters spout some bullshit, making some other magisters and Enura realize that not all magisters can see the golden lights. She then reaches out with her magic and is plunged into a bath of impossible, divine insight. Her mind makes an attempt to understand it as the hold of the spell is released. On a tablet she scribbles everything she can remember of the rapidly fading information. In the end, nobody can say what it all means. More research will be required.

Prestige

Post Length: +10K Characters
+5 Prestige >> Mystics

MP/DP

Qael’Naath start: 5MP/5DP
-1DP >> Consecrate the Mystics with title: Aether-Sight I.
Qael’Naath end: 5MP/4DP