O'Menus
O'Menus strode across the land to the waking girl, delirious as the slightly-more valuable mortal was, what beat in his heart was nothing but aggravating questions. He staid himself a few feet away, a dark and stern figure tinted with the pale light of moon reflecting off the white blade he held. He voiced aloud what he expected all his peers to be thinking, "If waking the Gods were your goal, then yes mortal, you did it. Yet now we stand on a field of corpses instead of slumbering a dreamless sleep..."
"Before anything else we need answers," he said faintly, fixing his gaze onto the prone hostage.
The girl seemed to be under a fog and while he had attacked her earlier, a woke and fearful mortal was easier to deal with than an amnesic one. For a moment he considered his options, then went to join the horned-goddess. As he neared her and the prone mortal, he pulled back the white blade. "How right you are," he told Ashte before skewering the man's armored ankle with the white sword. When the mortal awakened, he would know that the Gods were his audience now; he would receive the undivided attention of the Divine.
"Before anything else we need answers," he said faintly, fixing his gaze onto the prone hostage.
The girl seemed to be under a fog and while he had attacked her earlier, a woke and fearful mortal was easier to deal with than an amnesic one. For a moment he considered his options, then went to join the horned-goddess. As he neared her and the prone mortal, he pulled back the white blade. "How right you are," he told Ashte before skewering the man's armored ankle with the white sword. When the mortal awakened, he would know that the Gods were his audience now; he would receive the undivided attention of the Divine.