Occus wrinkled his nose in disgust, this explained what happened to the Witch Doctors. Ox's gifts to the people of this area had turned their magic upon a strange new threat, unfortunately whatever they tried had failed. The village was utterly destroyed, and everyone within was either strewn across the dirt as smears of blood and organs, or long gone. The deaths of his subjects had been the sign that alerted him that something had gone wrong here, but he had been busy with Boreas in Wickedeisos, formerly known as Hyperborea until Occus had invaded it and claimed the realm as his own.
All around him was the wreckage of a village founded by Witch Doctors whose powers had come from Occus. Several signs magic had been used to defend this place was everywhere. A ritual circle showed the remains at the attempts of a cure, and the carvings on destroyed doors were protection wards. Several collapsed huts were on fire where the Witches had turned tot eh elements to defend their lives, but it seemed it was all for naught. Smoke rose into the sky and devastation was everywhere to be found.
"Necromantic energies are heavy here. I wonder; did they mean to do this?" The Heart muttered.
"Who did this?" He asked of the creation, but for all that the thing spoke it was mindless. It commented and observed, but it did not converse. It would not answer his question.
Scowling Ox turned to leave when he felt a tremble in his connection with his bound souls. He vanished into into a portal of swirling violet darkness, stepping out on the other side in a larger, more modern city. The Wicca Priests of the Orange River lived here, or so they used to, now the city was being swarmed by a horde of the unliving. The hostile, strange energies emitting from them stopped him from even trying to interfere. He left the Priests to die and made a portal to Olympus, currently the unofficial headquarters of the Merged.
"This is where they fell..." The Heart whispered. Ox ignored the chatty thing.
He saw some of his kin were already gathered in the main hall, in the room of the Olympian Thrones which were no longer occupied. A portal was opened, revealing some of the unliving. They had taken notice then. Good, he certainly hadn't wanted to be the only one concerned. He had a good many subjects in the mortal realm and had no desire to see them perish, least of all to a strange supernatural creature. It always bothered him when beings in his sphere did not belong to his domain.
He had just caught the end of the immortal's words, asking questions that mirrored his own. It was fair to say he did not recognize any of those around him, they definitely needed a way to better gather or communicate with everyone. If he hadn't have found the situation himself it was unlikely any would venture into his realm to tell him of the developments.
He listened as a grumpy girl scolded the speaker. She wasn't wrong, but at the same time... "I have seen these creatures myself, they're not normal creations of any necromancer, their essence is unusual and they seem to resist the curses of my people. My own skill in Necromancy would not be able to disassemble them. Our answer lies not in a magical cure." Not that I'd have time to find one anyway. Ox would be commanding his people to evacuate the lower continent, if it got any worse he'd pull them all back to Wickedeisos.
"If we should do anything at all." A woman spoke up, she wore a crown of carved rubies, "So a few humans catch a plague, a country might fall to anarchy. We have duties elsewhere, and the mortals will have lived and learned from the catastrophe as they always do."
The woman had a point, not many had servants or active worshipers in the mortal realm, much less any in that area. Occus was unique in the dispersion of his subjects and believers. Olympus was unlikely to do much of anything in response, much less stop a lowly plague doomed to burn itself out.
"It isn't likely to be the end of mortals." A man clad in a skimpy ivy disagreed, his long ears twitching. "They've survived much worse than this before."
All around him was the wreckage of a village founded by Witch Doctors whose powers had come from Occus. Several signs magic had been used to defend this place was everywhere. A ritual circle showed the remains at the attempts of a cure, and the carvings on destroyed doors were protection wards. Several collapsed huts were on fire where the Witches had turned tot eh elements to defend their lives, but it seemed it was all for naught. Smoke rose into the sky and devastation was everywhere to be found.
"Necromantic energies are heavy here. I wonder; did they mean to do this?" The Heart muttered.
"Who did this?" He asked of the creation, but for all that the thing spoke it was mindless. It commented and observed, but it did not converse. It would not answer his question.
Scowling Ox turned to leave when he felt a tremble in his connection with his bound souls. He vanished into into a portal of swirling violet darkness, stepping out on the other side in a larger, more modern city. The Wicca Priests of the Orange River lived here, or so they used to, now the city was being swarmed by a horde of the unliving. The hostile, strange energies emitting from them stopped him from even trying to interfere. He left the Priests to die and made a portal to Olympus, currently the unofficial headquarters of the Merged.
"This is where they fell..." The Heart whispered. Ox ignored the chatty thing.
He saw some of his kin were already gathered in the main hall, in the room of the Olympian Thrones which were no longer occupied. A portal was opened, revealing some of the unliving. They had taken notice then. Good, he certainly hadn't wanted to be the only one concerned. He had a good many subjects in the mortal realm and had no desire to see them perish, least of all to a strange supernatural creature. It always bothered him when beings in his sphere did not belong to his domain.
...I don't understand. I think something weird is going on here. We are gods, they are mortal, why can I not cure this plague?"
He had just caught the end of the immortal's words, asking questions that mirrored his own. It was fair to say he did not recognize any of those around him, they definitely needed a way to better gather or communicate with everyone. If he hadn't have found the situation himself it was unlikely any would venture into his realm to tell him of the developments.
He listened as a grumpy girl scolded the speaker. She wasn't wrong, but at the same time... "I have seen these creatures myself, they're not normal creations of any necromancer, their essence is unusual and they seem to resist the curses of my people. My own skill in Necromancy would not be able to disassemble them. Our answer lies not in a magical cure." Not that I'd have time to find one anyway. Ox would be commanding his people to evacuate the lower continent, if it got any worse he'd pull them all back to Wickedeisos.
"If we should do anything at all." A woman spoke up, she wore a crown of carved rubies, "So a few humans catch a plague, a country might fall to anarchy. We have duties elsewhere, and the mortals will have lived and learned from the catastrophe as they always do."
The woman had a point, not many had servants or active worshipers in the mortal realm, much less any in that area. Occus was unique in the dispersion of his subjects and believers. Olympus was unlikely to do much of anything in response, much less stop a lowly plague doomed to burn itself out.
"It isn't likely to be the end of mortals." A man clad in a skimpy ivy disagreed, his long ears twitching. "They've survived much worse than this before."
