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The Year of Our War



:: BE SURE TO READ RULES. PLEASE. ::

Alright so, this is an odd rp, and it might be a hard thing to pull off considering the race that it is based around, but I want everyone here to have fun. It is based in a time that has no time and that will forever be at war if the races can't set aside their differences and come to some agreement, or bow to a dominant species. This is somewhat based off of the book "The Year of Our War" if anyone here has read it, with a few differences - like instead of a bug infestation it is a mass of races, and there are a few more immortals than in the book. I encourage some fighting (as the entire roleplay is based in a time of constant war) be it with other players or npc's, and friendship, rivalries, romance, and some kind of social class system (again be it with players or npc's).

History :
The world is at war; all manner of creatures have come out of hiding to reclaim dominance, but it would come with a price as more humans than could ever be imagined in previous times now inhabit the... 'planet'. There is no date anymore. Officially it would have been 3012, but since the year 2902, when there was something of an explosion and melding, all periods of time have been melded together - along with the technology and social standings of those time periods. The so called explosion was not entirely of human doing, it was a mixture of human and immortal miscalculation.
For the immortals; gods, demons, angels, devils and the like, there was a simple war between two gods. None took much notice of it, and none of the other gods seemed to care. But the two gods, as it were, happened to be the gods of Earth and Time. Coupled with the ignorant humans' belief that nothing could (outside of their scientific understanding) effect the state of being of anything at all. After several years of destruction and nothing being done to repair the damage that was caused, the very fabric of space and time ripped apart. All was one, nothing truly existed individually during that moment of despair and utter confusion when races, planets, times, and all other things imaginable combined.
Now the immortals are finally awakened from their centuries of idle pleasure, and must find a way to either restore peace to the races, separate them, or dominate them. They appear very frequently among the mortal races of the planet that now stands as the only place in existence that can sustain life, mostly among the long living races, however they tend to back the Humans in times of extreme violence for unknown reasons. The 'all knowing' immortals understand that they cannot remain the dominant species on the planet... they would forever be in that position if they chose it. So it has become the duty of the mortal races to 'elect' or otherwise accept a dominant race, or be at war evermore.


Setting/s :
- City of the Immortals : Ithil
(Other settings you can make up as we go, just had to put that down for a Immortal resurrection point... in case someone decides to start out dying, strange but who knows.)

The Rules :

(1) No God Modding (Yes, I Know. You can play immortals, but for the sake of arguement and simplicity, no. I don't want it, except on npc's of course!)
(2) Use Common sense.
(3) Keep it PG-13, in other words, no cybering
(4)name implies, though they can be 'Knocked out' per say. If an immortal dies it is resurrected again in the immortal capitol. Immortals bleed Ichor like in ancient Greek mythology.
(5) Immortals can have the powers that they govern (ex. god of sun = heat/light), depending on their type of immortality (angel, demon, devil, god, etc.) this may change
(6) Try and be realistic with your fighting... a.k.a try and get hit once in a while. If your a god, you may not be the easiest person to 'kill' but your going to get hurt pretty bad by another god or something like that if you piss em off. Remember that.
(7) I don't mind if a few of you pm each other and start out in a group or something, but for the most part don't start out in exactly the same place, develop your characters a bit. Then come join in with everyone else, you'd be surprised how fun it is messing around with npc's because you can do pretty much anything to them... they don't have people behind them!

Post characters in the OOC Thread here :: The Year of Our War OOC

Character Sheet :

Name:

Race (if god, god of what):

Bio:

Personality:

Appearance:

Powers:

Weapons/Armor:

Accepting about 5 Immortals right now. I don't want everyone to be one... that would make it boring!! Go for mortals, love elves, humans.. eh.. you know.

Post a profile in the OOC and join in! Have fun Everyone!!!!

((OOC: Alright, to get things started off! Here we go!))

The streets were empty and had a slight breeze flowing in between the many buildings that belonged to all kinds of beings. From the stout and sturdy dwarves to the violent orcs, the latter being quite ugly. Though the former wasn't all that better. Abaddon disliked many ugly things, however he did understand that sometimes the most useful and sometimes interesting things come in ugly packages. He was in the town called Nior, inhabited primarily by humans, and one of the largest 'towns' (much more a city, though on maps it was called "The Town of Nior") of its day, though not as big as some cities that Abaddon had been in previously... in centuries past. Oh he remembered the grand elven cities, the times when dwarven structures were at their prime, orcish towers rising above all, thier ogre relatives living in carved caves underground, a little higher than the Drows who inhabited the underground in dark once abandoned and now populated towers that rose higher than anyone could imagine possible while under the earth. Abaddon also remembered the grand industrial cities, beautifully disasterous, ugly and pretty at the same time. Not any more though. These were harsh times, times when the strong triumphed and the week hid in small corners of the world, living off of meager farmland that died a little with each passing year. Abaddon just casually walked down a dark and dangerous street though, in a highly populated city, most likely with more dangerous people in it than some mercenary armies. Speaking of mercenary armies... Abaddon saw a guard leaning quietly against a stone wall with a pike in his hands. There were very few cities, if any anymore, with the type of technology to create metal projectile weapons the humans called guns, this was not one of them. Abaddon considered that fact, and dismissed it quickly, noticing the guard look up and give a slight nod to him. Abaddon barely looked at him in return, which, to no one's surprise... if there had been anyone to witness the incident, angered the young and obnoxious watchman.

With a growl the annoyed man shifted his footing and drew his pike from its resting position on the wall and rested it on his shoulder, apparently trying to frighten Abaddon... somehow. Abaddon heard this shifting as he walked past, heard the slight shuffle of leather boots impacting the pavement covering the dirty ground, and heard the screech of steel impacting more steel. After hearing the noises, he paused, considering his options. Deciding to toy with the man, Abaddon turned round without a word, in one fluid menacing motion. As his glare settled on the guardling with its puny pike in its gloved hands he noticed the footing of it change again. Foolish man, thinking he could win a fight if it came to one. The stance the man took wasn't a fighting stance, not at the level of battle that Abaddon was on, it was more of an overbalanced squat. A disaster waiting to happen. Annoyed with the guard's lack of competance Abaddon unsheathed his broadsword with a click, barely moving it out of its soft silk sheath (that had a sealed end and an end with a ring of the same material that Abaddon's armor was made of to prevent the monstrous sword from tearing the beautiful cloth). At the sound of the sword the guard charged directly for Abaddon. Just what he had predicted the man would do. Softly, without a sound and as quickly as light might reach the eyes of a human, Abaddon moved aside, letting the man plow face first into the pavement after its exceedingly foolish charge was completed. Without a word Abaddon walked over the man, crushing his skull and brain under his boot. When he was done with the man he simply kept walking while shifting his broadsword back into its sheath with a tap, his boot unblemished, satisfied with the surprise he had just left for the next guard shift. How he hated incompetant fools such as those, good that they are so they may be disposed of easily.

With the night still young, and the world his playground, Abaddon continued through the streets, passed several tall buildings and a few roudy inns which hurt Abaddon's sensative ears for a moment as they adjusted to the noise. The next person he actually saw carried a pike as well. It appeared to be the weapon of choice for many these days, its long reach and easy usage proving useful to novice's of the art that was combat. As they passed each other walking down the seemingly endless and dark street the man did nothing to acknowledge Abaddon, a change for those arrogant guardsmen... if he was one at all. The ignorance or otherwise uncaring that the man showed as he passed Abaddon probably saved his life, if not his freedom. As Abaddon wasn't in the happiest mood of his lifetime, however long and drawn out that was, though the death of the foolish watchman had improved his mood a bit. The tip of Abaddon's chain poked into his wing, making it rather uncomfortable for him, though he did nothing to change it. He didn't care how it was positioned, as long as it was within reach at any given time, and that it was.

Day by day, this was what Abaddon did, hopefully not for much longer. Though he had learned to take the concept of time lightly, as it had no real application to him, it still taxed his patience and made waiting for something interesting to happen all the harder. A change might be needed soon, keeping the peace in the town of Nior had become... boring if it could be described as such. Maybe humans were becoming once again too easy for Abaddon to fool into death, maybe they had always been like that he just enjoyed causing them pain more before. None had yet to earn his trust, or his friendship, or even make an attempt to do so. It was possible that a visit to the Dark Elven race that lived under the earth might brighten his spirits. Possible. They always enjoyed a good fight anyways, and were definitly more skilled at it than most if not all humans that were currently alive. The idea sounded better by the second as it flashed through Abaddon's brain, and in an instant was gone. Nothing stayed in his head for long, getting attatched caused pain at times, though there was very few things Abaddon could not have. Finally, he reached a turn, a break in the never ending street he had been just walking on. What lurked beyond the next turn he did not know, nor did he care over much. The turn revealed nothing extremely interesting, a rat or two, another street to walk down. Though there did seem to be a few more lights gleaming in the distance than the other street he had just been on. Sadly, that meant nothing. What meant something on the street was what lay at the end of it. The governor's household, a stronghold rather than a home. Guarded by dozens if not a hundred or more experienced mercenaries. A challenge if there ever was one in this city. Though if he wanted Abaddon could simply fly up above it and unleash a small portion of the Abyss, drowning the entire home and its inhabitants and guards in a neverending blackness. Never to be unleashed upon the world again.

Tonight wasn't the night for mass destruction, besides, wasn't he there to bring order to this city? Maybe Abaddon would destroy another city, one that deserved it more, one that was useless or evil. The Angel of the Abyss he was, though not all evil was the type he approved of, and it was his approval that all evil required for existence. As well as some other Immortals' but they were too busy squabbling over their petty differences to care much or too occupied with the race that they created to meddle with the affairs of others. There were a very few Immortals in existence that were not completely immersed in either of the two tasks, and Abaddon was one of them. The city was empty tonight, nothing to do, nothing to take care of. Besides the one useless guard nothing had brightened Abaddon's mood, not necessarily a good thing.

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-3 days before-

Rafazear was bored. There was a battle ahead of him in the vallery it was a even battle. "..damn battles are do hard to come by and thes one I see are even." It had to do, even if it was a tiny battle, it was better then nothing. With a smile he stood up and rolled his neck around a bit crack it a bit.

His swords with at his back, he had a couple sheaths back there. Which he put his swords into when not in use. Reaching back he put his hands to the sword with a smile, and chewed the gum he had in his mouth. "hehe.."

In a flash he was gone and in the battle. As Rafazear stopped his sword at his side, men in a direct line from his way down suddenly screamed and with a gout of blood fell apart. "come on!" he laughed and disapeered again, in flashes in and out he tore through the battle field blood alround him. He suddenly apeared ducked infront of what seemed a commander and throwing up his swords he quickly drew both pistols and blasted him in the face.

His pistols were magic created by gods, they shot bullets of dark energy, though that wasnt needed, the head was completely gone. Putting the pistols back he grabbed his sword and immiedatly arose and ran forward a smile on his face. "This all you guys got."

-----------

Days later he was in the town of Nior. He arrived a few days ago by going the old fashioned walking way. It was fun too occasionally walk slow and calm. Too see how normal people lived thier lives.. slow slow lives.

"..The sights are alright though i'll admit that much." He said as he sat down on a bench looking at a couple woman walking by. "Very nice indeed.." he got up and walked towards them, "..hey ladies, how are you doing.. you want too join me.."

-the momment-

"That all you got come on, a little faster come now i know you can do it." he was in the manor in the city of Nior a couple guards were attacking him. His swords were still sheathed and his arms were crossed at his chest, a smile was all over his face.

"come now I believe in you." he smiled chewing his gum as he just dodged pike thrusts and arrows. "Ohhh almost, Almost got me there." he laughed a bit, as he went side to side. A pike thrust came at him from behind, he jumped up landing on the blade. "..oww man you almost got me behind there ya did ya did."

__________________
GT: Comandersnow
Song of Ice and Fire/WOT=Best book series EVAR!

Abaddon strolled through the streets of the sleeping city a bit longer, wishing to find a place to sit and rest soon... despite being immortal his legs still grew weary from days and days of walking. No place screamed come and spend a few coins here! or Come and Rest! or even Here I am, take it or leave it, I'll take anyone. The last Abaddon despised the most, usually those types of households or commercial buildings were full of lying, cheating and corrupt men, ambitious dwarves, and arrogant orcs. None of which were very fun to be around; and not always fun to kill, much less take the time to imprison. Some where along this empty street in the middle of a seemingly empty town (not a soul could be seen from the streets, not a soul dared to be seen unless they were armed...) he would find a place to rest, that much Abaddon was sure of. And so with that assurance, he let the worry slip out of his mind, and let his eyes rest on the governor's 'stronghold' that he had reached after minutes of walking.

The complex was guarded by at least a hundred men, that was certain as Abaddon approached it. Probably more inside the building and around the governor himself. Those in the interior were probably extremely well trained as well. Out of pure boredom, Abaddon hugged one of the walls that surrounded the Governor of Nior's home, searching for a guard to toy with. Once he found one that he deemed suitable - most of the ones he passed seemed either capable of holding up against an attack on the governor (and therefore somewhat useful) or rather important - Abaddon unlatched his chain from where it hang on his stretching wing. He jumped silently up to the top of the wall like a cat, being sure to hide behind a tree that would obscure his shape from all others, and felt for the pointed end of his deadly chain. With a quick flick of the wrist the sharp point was heading for the guard's foot. Upon impact with his foot there was a scream. The mercenary-guard was definitly in pain, and unless he in some way impressed Abaddon he was about to be in much more. As Abaddon withdrew his chain for another toss, this time aiming at the other foot, he noticed the guard's facial features. An elf, or rather a drow it seemed... not what Abaddon had planned on. With this discovery he wrapped his chain still bloody around his wing and dived backwards landing lightly on the ground; then turning and walking away, the guard still cursing his misfortune behind him. A lovely try, but not exactly a joyful experience. Abaddon had no plans to kill drows for the night, and wasn't going to do something possibly harmful at random.

Disappointed, Abaddon headed once again down another, new street. Soon after turning around its corner he noticed a building fully lit up and quite alive, with men and women around it deep in conversation and debate. The building had a sign at its top, 'Linio's Inn' were the words emblazeoned upon it. The place looked suspicious because of how many people were outside of it, but it looked like an ok place to spend a while resting in. Moments later he had a comfortable bench to relax in and a warm drink in his hands. Not wanting to stay longer than necessary in the place, you couldn't spend long anywhere these days without witnessing some time of trouble, Abaddon drank the drink quickly and rested his feet upon the bench.

About an hour later Abaddon felt well enough to continue prowling the streets till' dawn. By the time another half hour had passed he was down the same streets and amongst the larger buildings of the town. The manor's of the city were truly beautiful if they could be described as such, their tall brick smoke stacks rising above all else, with their wooden doors intricately carved with a family symbol or other such design. Abaddon took a few moments to appreciate the beauty of the houses, then turned in another direction to continue his patrol like adventure. Soon he heard some muffled shouts and a man speaking loudly and enjoying his time. Seconds later Abaddon heard the screetch of steel on steel, like a man was shifting about in battle. Was this finally something to occupy Abaddon's time with? Or just another idle scuffle between an odd man and some foolish guards, like so many Abaddon had previously been in. It was time to find out, he thought, and set off to find the noise. As the noise grew louder and louder he climbed atop one of the manors and started to walk on the roofs, not wanting to be seen right away once he got there. Seconds later he found the source of the noise, several guards and a single man moving as fast as Abaddon could... even faster at times, and toying with the pike wielding fools. Abaddon sighed and took up a waiting position, wanting to see how the scuffle finished up.

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Rafazear squated on the pike a little longer while the people looked at him a bit amazed. "..You know if you dont close your mouth a bullets going to find its way in." Doing a backflip he vaulted through the air, the pike going down he landed on the pike wielders shoulders. this speed is boreing after a little.

Falling back he clasped his feet together around the guards neck and as he went back he let him mommentum-along with a little heave-hurl the man back into a couple others with a broken neck. Landing on his feet from the backflip he looked back in time to see the man hit his allies. By now he was honestly suprised the guards hadnt gotten bored yet, "...Okay how about this, i'll let you guys hit me once." He did let it happen as a Arrow came down at his face his hand came up and he grabbed it right before it touched his forehead.

"..Well oww that kind of burnt my fingers.. ouch man I think I should return the favor." he smiled and drew his swords getting low in a crouch he burst forward. Side stepping a clumsy stab he brought his sword up and sliced off his shin. He kept running and kept going left and right, his sword smacked aside another pike as it thrust. Throwing up his sword he grabbed the spear and thrust forward impaling the man with it and grabbing his sword back.

Running forward again he brought up a knee, and smacked a guy so he doubled over near a wall. He jumped onto his back and onto the wall of the compound and ran along it hoping onto the roof he ran at the archer and stopped right infront of him. "..So...You want to apologize." The archer trembled there and eventually mummbled a sorry. He smiled nicely at him and patted his head, "alrighty you be a nice boy now."

With a sight of being satasfied, he flicked his swords clean and sheathed them and stepped off the wall. And began too stroll off.

__________________
GT: Comandersnow
Song of Ice and Fire/WOT=Best book series EVAR!

Abaddon watched the man, or at least that's what he appeared to be, catch an arrow heading towards his face; balancing on the tip of a pike, supported by one guard, and uttering some evil remark about the guards and how pathetic they were. Indeed they were pathetic, but that was another topic. For another battle, for now it seemed that Abaddon was dealing with someone special. Someone with at least a little knowledge of what they were doing, as they were moving with the grace and control in and around battle as easily as most immortals, if not as much as the most violent of war gods. The creature was quick at the very least, moving with speed that Abaddon had only seen from Immortals of movement, and even then... he was very fast. It was quite troubling to think that there could be someone faster and more agile than Abaddon himself. But there were ways to deal with speed, he reminded his wandering mind, as if to calm himself. The entire rest of the scuffle took all of a few minutes. The man uttering a few remarks and killing a few guards in a stylish manner, preffering to use their own weapons against them than use his two beautiful swords... for some odd reason.

The man finally finished with the guards on the ground and leaped up to the roofs, going after the archer. Abaddon thought that the man might see him for a second, then his mind was set at ease as the man ran to get closer to the archer who had almost killed him... and if Abaddon's hearing hadn't failed him, caused the man a few burns on his hands. The man talked with; or to rather, as the archer-guard didn't respond in full or even coherent sentences, his would-be killer for a few moments, gave a satisfied sigh and leaped back off the building, down into the darkness that was Nior's streets. Leaving the annoyed and frightened guard trembling with his crossbow. This man was becoming what Abaddon needed, a nice exciting activity to brighten up his day, and give him the bit of adrenaline he needed to wake up for the morning that was quickly approaching. Before long Abaddon decided that it was best to keep an eye out for the man, though it wouldn't be necessary to follow him this night. Abaddon could find him again if need be, it was relatively simple to find people in Nior, anyone that was causing trouble at least. And this man was definitly causing some type of trouble... if Abaddon was judging the death of, what, three guards? well.

The final archer-guard still stood there trembling, moments later, as Abaddon moved out from behind his hiding spot to get a better look at the frightened man. He was wearing the standard Nior guard uniform, a tabard with the Nior crest stitched crudly into it, with a full steel armor set. Quite protected... or so it would seem. The man was useless now, probably insane, and not going to be doing any more 'guarding' for the rest of his days. Pity, he seemed to be a pretty good shot during the little scuffle that had just happened. Without barely a thought Abaddon walked calmly up behind the guard and broke his heel with a sharp kick to the back of the man's boot, bringing him down to the roof, resting on a knee, sobbing and praying. In a flash Abaddon unsheathed his broadsword, decapitated the kneeling man with a snap of his wrist, creating a clean cut that made a squishing sound when the head began to fall off. It fell to the ground; along with the body and crossbow, and before it rested on the ground again Abaddon's sword was back in its sheath. No rest for the wicked, not even for the Immortal wicked, it seemed.

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Standing in the street, he stopped as Abandon killed the guard. His arms were behind his head fingers locked in a relaxed postion. He smiled lightly, he noticed Abandon up there on the roof, and he was wondering what abandon was set to do just now. Everyone knew of him.. sure many didnt meet him personally but more people knew of him.

Rafazear new of him mostly from the fact his father asked him for some work time to time. Though he most likely wouldnt remember seeing him around ever.
Turning around he smiled. well.. its nice to see another immortal around here. Reaching down he plucked a rose out of the ground and stuck it inbetween his teeth. He looked straight up at Abandon and gave him a wink as he took the rose in his teeth, "..my my my, its nice to see you around here I've heard stories." he made a over exagerated bow, "my lord will thou forgive me for my vile impertnince.. but I need to be on my way you can find me i'm sure."

As he got up from his bow he was gone as fast as the eye could see though Abandon most likely could get a trace of it. He stopped near a couple of woman walking through the town by themselves out from a tavern. "Hello ladies.."

__________________
GT: Comandersnow
Song of Ice and Fire/WOT=Best book series EVAR!

Abaddon looked down from his vantage point atop one of the manor houses just in time to see the speedy man walk off at a regular pace, then suddenly bow and dart away faster than Abaddon was prepared to follow with his eyes. He looked familiar, as if Abaddon had seen him somewhere before... It was almost as if there was a connection between someone he's known well before and that boy. Perhaps one of the Immortals he's 'helped' in the past, the man seemed definitly fast enough to be an Immortal, though Abaddon couldn't quite recall which he was, if one at all. He could simply be an extremely speedy elf or some mutated humanoid. The thought that a new race could have been made since Abaddon had last been to Ithil crossed his mind for a second. However unlikely, it was a possibility. Whatever it was the person seemed to have left behind something as he ran off, no... he had picked something up. One of the flowers from the ground apparently.

The thing that had made Abaddon turn at first was speech coming from the speedy man. The thing that kept him looking that direction was a person that appeared suddenly next to a few ladies coming out of a tavern a long way off in the distance. It was the man. He was quick on his feet indeed. Soon they began to speak to each other and it became apparent that the ladies were starting to like the newcomer. So he was a ladies man as well! One thing Abaddon lacked was charm... he would have to get some advice from the man if their paths ever crossed again.

By the time the man a ladies were immersed in conversation Abaddon was hopping off the top of the building, his wings puffing up against the wind as they slowed his descent a bit. As he landed he flexed his wings out and in against his back once more, just to give them a bit of excersize. On the ground again Abaddon became bored quickly, taking his same route back to 'Linio's Inn' where he knew he would find a warm fire blazing and a spot to relax for the day. The crowds that had occupied the area in front of Linio's had since dissipated, most of its occupants probably now asleep. Tired from a night of partying. The fire was larger than Abaddon had thought it would be, and the smoke that rose from the inn blotted out the sun if you tried to look directly at it. It was also very comforting, and as Abaddon took a seat at the bar nearest the fire he was already feeling better, the feeling returning to his legs. He knew that at some point someone would start to ask him questions, about various things... from his wings to why he carried weapons about all day long. He just didn't know when. Thoughts and ideas passed quickly through his head, never staying for much longer than a minute or two, when the first sign of life in the inn appeared to his right. A few men, armed, looking like your average mercenary, were approaching the bar. Apparently they had just come in, and were not (unlike the rest of the inn's occupants) passed out or asleep. In fact they were very much alive, and very loud. It seemed as if they would wake the entire inn with their loud laughter and shouting. It was only at the barkeep's request that they quieted down after sitting down next to Abaddon. They were still quite loud, but not enough to penetrate the thick walls of Linio's to get to the sleeping patrons up stairs. They ordered a few drinks and talked with one another, chuckling like mischevious demons every other scentence. Finally, with a unanimous laugh, they turned to face Abaddon who was leaning forwards to avoid pressure on his wings, cupping his mug of steaming ale. So it was question time, or rather... bullying time for the mercenary - like gang. And time for a bit of sport for Abaddon.

((ooc: it's a bit unfinshed, but I wanted to see what your going to do and also I want to wait for Pixie to make her character if she is going to... I'll finish it up later.))

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The woman with the impish grin skipped through the streets and among the people. This place was new to her, and she needed to gain her bearings on the town before she made it hers. Oh yes, she would coddle them all before they drove her, if they knew it was her, out of town. She thought back to the old days, when she was driven out of town, or even burned. Yes, it had been her who had started the witch craze. Lori stopped and stuck out her tongue as she muttered sourly to herself, "I didn't care much for being burned though." Now troubled, she stumbled along before spotting a bar. The air was ripe for trickery, but she had to hold out until she knew the area and the people.

Trickery and tragedy was to Lori a job. And to do her job successfully, she needed information. Not all her tricks were successful, because often.. Too often, people considered them as blessings from the Gods. It was not for happy faces that she did what she did. Lori liked to see pain, anguish and torment. And this town would be no different, she would learn from the people, she would learn about them. And then and only then would she give in to her wicked will.

She swung open the door and spotted a vacant table. Making her way over, she studied the room briefly but took little in. Lori sat down and ordered a drink. Her child like ways seemed to encroach upon her once more, and for anyone watching they would have noticed a the corner of her lips tilt upwards in a menacing smile. But none noticed, and Lori felt the intense desire to ruin somebody's evening. She gave in, deciding to do nothing that would pin point to herself. But who?

There were few awake, but there was one table.. A loud group of burly men, who felt they could beat the Gods. Oh yes, these men were cocky and arrogant. A simple trip would humble them some. But then how about placing their ring leader into a dress? She mumbled to herself, "Too revealing.." She continued to think it over when her drink arrived. She drank deeply and then turned her attention back to the group. They had stood up and seemed to be making their way over to... Was that an Angel? The blood drained from her face. Another immortal, in such close proximity, could not bode well for her. Even to the Angels, she was but a half breed, and half breeds were discouraged.

Lori found herself grasping tentively at the sides of the table, her knuckles white from the force she was exerting. But instead of following her initial reaction to disappear, she stayed, realising she was past help if this turned on her. Who was it sitting there? With his back to her, she could tell little. The group drew nearer to him, their overly confident strides did nothing for them. This was going to almost be unfair to the humans. But then it had been they who were initiating this fight. And then he turned around, and Lori felt her face whiten. She knew that face, that was Abaddon.

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"Do not tempt me, vile man. The wrath of the Thunder God is too much for any mortal to handle; even one so vain and opulent as yourself. You call me here, to Nior, and I came. I came for this town is one of the last bastions of humanity in the war-beaten world, and I thought that it's governor would be a man of virtue and justice. But lo, when I arrive, I am beset by demands of my assistance? Man demands nothing of the gods."

With that, Thorzeus, called by many simply Thor, left the manor of the governor of Nior. The fool had called him here, under the pretext of protecting the town from some threat or another... and then proceeded to make demands that Thorzeus set up shop in the town, and become their patron god; to live forever amongst them and only them. They were not even under immediate danger!

Thor headed off towards the local pub... after such an encounter, he could surely use a drink. Or two. Or three. Like many immortals, he could not get 'drunk', but the alcohol still affected him... when he wished it to. It was a long walk amongst the streets of the town; closer to the fourteenth century in architecture than anything else; simple buildings of wood and some stone; streets that meandered. Truly, humanity had fallen from their high perch; no longer did the skyscrapers and subways show stories of the majesty of modern machinery. Nay... and it made Thor more than a little sad.

He entered the pub; noting the adventurers at the back of the room. Surely, they had ill on their minds; but perhaps not. There were times that Thor had sat at the back of a room; plotting and adventure against the giants or trolls with his comrades. The other occupants of the room seemed familiar... The girl, with the top hat and cane was a name just beyond his grasp; as though he had known her well, many years ago. Probably some minor goddess, with whom he had made dealings. The other, however, was well known to Thorzeus. Abbadon. Angel who teetered between the light and darkness; claiming to serve the greater good whilst showing no respect for human life or, if it came to it, the lives of other immortals. Thor had worked both alongside and against the angel... and though they did not always agree, Thor had a deeply held respect for the immortal, as a warrior and, sometimes, as a champion of justice.

"A Mead, or if you don't have that, a healthy larger," Thorzeus ordered from the barkeep; waiting but a mere moment before a dark beer was set before him. He drank half of the mug in a single drain; not of gluttony, but thirst.

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