Location: H1
The Galvese ships were routed and smashed. Their commanders were dead. Their troops were split and had lost all their morale. Their forces had been strong, but not as strong as the united armies of the island. Not as strong as the gods that had found a common goal. And now that goal was over. Now there were only scattered remnants of an army, willing to put up a fight but hardly willing to fight. With no ships to take them hom, even if they were spared it was their fate to be left here. They awaited the decisions of gods they've never heard of, let alone prayed to. Would they be vengeful? Merciful? Michievous?

Their lives and so many others rested on the whims of Deities that had found themselves in a position of power.

Location: H1

Maraketh stood at the head of his golem army, which was slowly turning to inert mud now that their mission was finished. He watched the remaining soldiers trembling in his part of the field. Finally, after much deliberation, he pointed to the nearest soldier and beckoned him over. Fearfully the man approached, and even though he stood almost three feet taller than the boy, Maraketh seemed to look down on him.

"You do not wish to fight us anymore." He said, a statement of fact rather than a question. As the man nodded, he continued. "I have an offer for you and anybody else who wishes to accept it. I will spare your lives in exchange for two things. First, you must become citizens of my city, and work towards the prosperity of it's people and the collection of knowledge. Second, you must share what knowledge you have from across the seas with my people, so that we may grow stronger in our studies of it. Go and spread this word, and consider. The other's you find here may not be so lenient, or may be more so. Come back to me when you have made your choices."

Location: H1

The Host of Dearoth that was sent to combat the enemy Invasion fleet stood in it's drill straight and highly regimented formations. Discipline was a key component to the success and power of the dearothian military. Even in defeat they were rarely routed, Always falling back in measure pace with firmly established or even entrenched and sacrificial rearguards. It was easier to look upon the cold dead eyes of a slain Dearothian solider than see the back of his head.

For now the host of some hundreds strong stood at attention, sorrounding a force of kneeling enemy soldiers as they were being disarmed. The commander of this Force had his hands behind his back and breathing deeply as he surveyed the destruction of the battlefield. Some of his men were already dispatched to collect and count the wounded and injured of Dearoth. They would all need to be taken back home for proper treatment and/or cremation.

The armour of Hurrian shifted subtly with every breath he took. He could not believe how comfortably it fit on his breast. It was almost as if ti was made for him personally. It's elegantly polished sheen, Beautiful engravings and forged reliefs of Ancient runes and designs that he could only guess at the meaning of today.

He could feel it's power coursing through his veins and pushing new ideas and talents to the forefront that he had never experienced before. He felt honoured to answer Hurrian's call. To hear the whispered voiced of the Ancient hero in his mind asking, no challenging him to take up the relic and ensure the safety of Dearoth and the Island. Though this was the only relic brought forth from the Shrines back home. It was deemed uncessary to disturb the others. Besides no one else heard the whispered calls and stepped forward to claim the relic. And he himself was only challenged to don the armour. All fo Dearoth had heard stories of false Champions claiming to have spoken to have heard Hurrians voice. Thinking no harm would come to them by simply picking up the relics, their only thought was of the status and fame they would receive simply for being picked as a champion. Rumors of Hands scorched and blistered as their flesh burned at the mearest touch. Or simply becoming heavily sick or outright killed by the Power of Hurrian. Hurrian the man who Founded Dearoth to escape the lies and corruption of power for personal benifit. He would be damned if his soul would allow any one else to attempt such a thing with his own possessions no less.

Besides. With this many rival cities close by he doubted any of them could be trusted not to make an attempt to steal or destroy the relics. If destruction of them was even possible. Now this was safer, and more than sufficient to the task.

“Men Of Galven!” he called out suddenly to the defeated host. “Your armies are defeated, Your commanders are slain and your navy is already retreating and leaving you behind.” He let those words sink in for a few seconds and let those few who were not already paying attention to his turn their heads. His voice was powerful and deep. It was a tone that commanded respect and demanded attention. This was the voice that sent orders to his men across the chaos of the battlefield. It was almost as if the voice was being amplified, it was just a a fair touch louder than a normal human voice should be, even one belonging to a distinguished general. And it carried beyond the Company he was addressing and reaching the ears of many other soldiers in the vicinity.

“You have fought well and with honour. I hold no ill will against you this day even for those of my men slain by your hands or those of your fellows.” He offered and let his gaze travel over the faces of these foreigners. Meeting as many of their gazes as possible. Some looked back at him fearfully, willing to do whatever he said if it meant life. Others were more defiant and strong. They would listen to him but their minds were their own and that was respectable. And some were glaring back at him defiantly. Theses men were loyal to the core and would prefer a slow death to any fate that this god may offer.

“I will offer you this chance. One chance for each of you to choose your fate!” His tone hardened at this turn. This next part would be critical and there was no telling how they may react. “For those of you who wish it I will allow you to renounce your allegiances and follow me to Dearoth. You may have the chance to earn citizenship but to do so will require you to live and swear by the laws of Dearoth and uphold the ideal's of Hurrian. You may have the chance to live your lives as you see fit, To work, to live, to make a family if your fate wills it. You have my word as a general you will not be looked down upon for your part in this. You fought with honour and that is commendable. Any such courage can never be looked down upon by myself or my Bretheren.

I will also offer you the chance to follow the paths of the others gods if you are willing. For those of you that want to live in anothers realm I will not deny you or stop you. And in turn those of you willing to join Dearoth will be protected against any who seek to oppose your wish.” Now was the critical part.

“But I see in some of your hearts the loyalty and pride of a true patriot and warrior. And I am proud to offer you this single opportunity. To draw your swords one last time. To allow yourself the dignity and pride to fall upon your own blade.” only the strongest of them would choose that path. And he was happy to offer this one final honour to them. He would not in good concious have them lined up like criminals and butchered simply for following orders. They earned this much for their efforts.

“I will allow any Man this right. And I will give you one hour to make your decisions. Either join Myself and my people, Join another city, or face your end by your blade or mine! I will await your decisions.” The ranks of his men opened up to allow those enemy soldiers the opportunity to meet and discuss options with their fellows. “One hour!” he repeated.

H-1

Jonathan looked over the defeated army of Galvese with his usual calm look and stance. He felt bad for the people and though his people had no part in attacking them due to his nations more peaceful approach to war but they were still his brethren from somewhere down the road of lineage. Jonathan stepped forward and got ready to speak to the armies of Galvese. "Men and women of Galvese. I am Jonathan and I am here to extend my hand to you in mercy. I invite you to my city in the trees and valleys of a great and beautiful forest. The only terms of this invitation is that each one of you take an oath to be peaceful with my city. You do not have to join but just know there is always sanctuary there for you." Jonathan finished stepping back.

Location: H-1
Chukkle
The man fearfully retreated, and had all the attention of his squad. People he knew. People he had sailed with. And then he relayed the message. Laid out the two different options. To live, surrendering their lives and knowledge, or to die here today. Mutterings, arguments, chaos. But the despair finally settled in. Decisions were made. They were split. Two groups appeared, one larger than the other.

The man returned to the god Maraketh. He kneeled. Submission. ”The smaller group will accept your offer. The larger will accept your blade.” And then he stood. ”As for me, I’m no general. I’m no god. I am but a man who decided to fight. Not for his country. But for his people. For his family.” The small group grew smaller, the big group became bigger. ”And if I can never see them again… I will die for them.”

A hidden knife behind his arm. He raised it for the god Maraketh’s throat. It may as well have been a mile away, for he was but a mortal man. A normal man trying to kill a god.

---

Ollum
They had lost. That much was clear. They had been overpowered from the beginning, their force inferior by all means. Many looked down, but only one looked straight forward. Their decision had been made. ”Countrymen! We may live if different lands that were under different names. And yet now we are united, under one banner! Galven! Liberated!” The voice was clear. Genuine. Feminine. It was a woman who spoke so convinced. ”I will not break the kinship of all of you, neither will I give up on seeing my homeland again! If you need an hour to decide what to do, then you are not Galvese! On our arrival, I saw a forest to the East. We shall march. We shall build a ship. We shall return. I would not betray my homeland, nor would I be cowardly enough to take my own life. If my blood shall fall, it will be on the enemy’s blade as I journey homeward!”

She had their attention. Most of them were captivated. All of them were disinterested. They were listening to the words of a madwoman. Leave and build a ship? Forget escaping alive. A ship they build with their bare hands would hardly make it. But that one word rang in the back of their minds. Journey.

Even with no one responding, she didn’t lose her enthusiasm. She made her way out of the group, with no weakness in her posture or step. One foot marched in front of the other. ”The journey begins…” Any Galvese citizen knew those words. The beginning of their anthem. A beautiful song that made their defeated hearts ache. To them, the back of the woman… her shoulders seemed so large. A man stood up and rushed forward to get in line. ”Starts from within…!”

And then their indifference broke. One after another got up. ”Things that I need to know…” Again and again. Even those who had given up, who wanted to live and were willing to surrender, sang the words. ”The song of the bird…”Those words were full of guilt.

”Echoed in words… “ She marched onwards, leading her group. It was small compared to those willing to surrender. But those who put one foot in front of the other had determination. They would continue to march on, even if spears and blades were put in front of them. Even with a section of the Dearothian army ahead, the troops did not slow down. They looked ahead, past the army. They looked into the forest, and they saw their way home. ”Flying, for the need to fly.”

---

Robie
They were glad enough. They were alive, and they had choices. Jonathan was not asking them for surrender, he was not threatening them with death. He simply invited them. And for that, many of them were willing to accept it. They walked forward, along with another group. This group did not know what to do. They would follow Jonathan back. Some would drop off along the way to live here or there. Some would see what the Forest would have to offer. Some planned to somehow get back home. They were simply glad they had their lives, and they knew very well that if they ignored his offer and stayed here, it was likely they would lose those lives. They all bowed and kneeled in Jonathan’s direction. Some in earnest, and some hardly at all.

Location: A-1

The raging double invasion of the marauding barbarians poured into the city gates of Lordagh like hungry locusts, falling to Lordagh's fine steel weapons like wheat before the chaff. Still, the lower iron weapons and steel swords of the Barbarian hordes came at the city guards like ants on a scorpion. Whenever a city guard slew a barbarian warrior, four would replace another slain invader. Within three days, the Gates opened in front of the city, for the Knights of Lordagh to defend. They were ready, but it had taken the Smiths time to forge their Knights proper gear to join the fray.

Thousands of Barbarians were taken down, just as the guard's morale began to crack like clay vessels. The knights cut down their opponents with their superior experience, training and weapons, and armor, like there was no tomorrow. One hundred knights began the chase, and one hundred knights killed four thousand enemies. Finally, the last thousand barbarians were taken as prisoner as they retreated. They were to be taken to the city square where they watched their two chiefs executed. . . as their heads rolled down the block, the rest were given a message. Do not interfere with the Dragon folk again, or their cities would face the loss of all males above the age of 15.

H-1

A clash of steel on steel rang out as the soldiers knife was met with Scout's, stopping just before it reached Maraketh's flesh. The god reached up and grabbed the man by the neck, dragging him down to look him in the eye.

"You really shouldn't have done that." He said, a glint of danger and rage in his expression, "While I applaud your bravery, I'm disgusted by your stupidity. You cannot return home now, but you could have lived a comfortable, meaningful life here, and maybe even gone back to your homeland in the future. At the very least you could have accepted my offer and waited until my guard was down to try this sloppy assassination. Your punishment for your idiocy is thus." With a squeeze of his fingers, the life drained out of the man's eyes, and the newly born flesh golem stood upright. With a terse command from Maraketh, the golem walked back to the two groups and stood in front of them, speaking in a dull monotone.

"To those who chose to abandon your senseless struggle, you have my protection. To those who choose to defy us still, I'm afraid this man's actions have sealed your decision, and your fates." With those last words, a double ring of golems rose from the ground around the larger group, slowly advancing inward and bludgeoning those inside to death.

Jonathan smiled at all the people kneeling before him. He shook his head and said "theres no need for kneeling. Follow me those who wish to follow me" Jonathan said as he began walking back to his kingdom with his two guards who both were wearing clothes made of dead leaves. Jonathan wouldn't use live leaves due to his concern for the feelings of plants.