After a melenia of strife and chaos the gods finally settled down enough to elect a leader one to unite them and to maintain peace. Here in Illyuss no mortal has ever stepped foot, untouched by the taint of mortality it has stood empty for centuries ready to hold its glorious creators once more. The gods all make way to the central table in the main hall. A massive piece which could sit hundreds, A massive throne at its far end, the sun laying its golden rays upon its back. The seat is reserved for the future king. Its been literal ages since anyone has last set foot into the kingdom of Illyuss.

---

He happened to be the first one into the hall, the first into Illyuss. He knew they were coming, and knew they were bound to show up soon. He took his place, two seats away from the throne on the left side. Leaving the seats before him to the future advisers. The Hall smelled of something one couldn't find in the mortal world. Every aspect of Illyuss would have impressed a mortal. The table was cut from a single tree yet it was large enough to sit over a hundred people. The chairs were also of divine creation. Yet regardless Onhiel hated this place, it burned him to the core. It took every ounce of his being to stop from causing a great calamity to befall the wretched castle. He took in a deep breath and calmed. Leaning back in the chair all he had to do was wait. The foot steps of another god possibly gods. Regaining his composure he, he sat up. As the first entered he gave a quick greeting. "Hello, ready for today's activities?" His voice was deep, and strong. After they had assembled Onhiel quickly got the meeting on track "Lets start the voting for the King to end this bloodshed once and for all. I vote for Prothos, the first."

---

The First of the great tribes, Fer was gathered around a river. Nearly forty thousand people gathered here. They all carried on their daily lives, the men hunting while the women stayed back and carried out daily chores such as tanning, gathering, and tending the wild crops which were staged around the country side. Taking only what the Tribe needed, and allowing the rest to be stored in one of the many hidden food silos. Things were peaceful, the circular tents dotting the open fields, taking up much of the rollings hills near the river. Up to five families lived in each tent. Mid afternoon the War Chief returned from the field. The women and children even the elderly gathered around. Behind their horses they drug, walked captured people of the wildlands. Over a hundred captured and an entire village had been destroyed. Many of the people were crying, there were some children though not many. It wasn't like the Ebir to take child prisoners, they usually were killed to stop them from having to deal with life alone. War Chief Aed dismounted his horse, some of the younger ones scrambled to open the cages, where they tossed in the slaves. They would be later used for sport and be sacrificed to their God king, and All father Onhiel.

Prothos spilled into the main hall of Illyuss, his tattered clothes transforming in a fizz of salt spray into a magnificent cerulean and jade tunic and cloak. A small octopus scurried from beneath his cloak and curled its tentacles around his strong, tanned arms. Wherever he walked a pool of salt water formed and then dried almost immediately. He strode luxuriously through the hall stopping to gaze out the tall windows to catch a glimpse of the rivers churning below. Longingly he sighed and look at his gathering brethren, the other immortals, the other gods of the world so far away, but instantly within reach. How long since he had seen them? How long since he had walked in Illyuss?

These thoughts were but a passing tide and the old god focused on the task at hand. To choose a king was an important step towards ending the chaos that plagued the world-that was true. But more important was anticipating who would be drafted as one of the four..

"Ah Onhiel good to see you again. Fancy a Hurricane for our meeting?" said Prothos, jokingly. "Ha! Of course not. Let us commence the meeting..."

Prothos sat near Onhiel. The octopus on his forearm curled around the arm rest of the large wooden chair and lay motionless. From his tunic, Prothos first pulled a large whelk and placed it on the table before him. Then he produced a foggy cylindrical glass jar of salt water, stopped with a cork in front of him. The octopus moved with surprising speed and simultaneously unstopped the jar and swiped the empty whelk shell up, pouring his master a cup of fine Lemurian sea water. Prothos smiled, moustaches twitching. "Many thanks, little brother."

Prothos was surprised at Onhiels offer of Kingship. He smiled and spoke: "My thanks Onhiel. I accept your nomination. But I will wait until our brethren have spoken to vote."

---

For the Lemurians life was continuing much as it had for ages. The fleets were at sea, trading among the coastal cities. The clergy dressed in cloaks of kelp and turbans of sea-grass gathered at their coral temples, all of the portents promising an auspicious day. An important decision was to be made, said the signs. They carried through with the ancient traditions, copying sea-charts and shucking oysters. Listening to the cries of the laughing gulls and the crashing roar of the ocean. These were the things that were always done. These were the things Prothos encouraged. But the signs showed a new age was dawning, and what would occur the priests could not tell.

A whispering of air followed Prothos's final statement, stirring through to caress those inside the room. For the briefest moment, the light behind the golden throne shifted, allowing a patch of shadow to form. Springing from this smallest opening, Kelthis's form appeared to rotate and expand, changing from a vertical line to one of a recognizable humanoid figure wreathed in a cloak. No light broke through the covering of the hood despite the abundance of illumination in the room, a solid, impassive front against the outside world. Cloth-wrapped arm lifted, laying a gloved hand upon the left arm of the throne. Not once had the cloak shifted during the entirety of the sequence.

"It's about that time, isn't it?" Running his hand slowly along the arm of the chair, the glove encasing the appendage developed streaks of gold along the back, made to run across the contours of Kelthis's hand. A smile tugged at his lips, hidden by the shadows of the cloak. Control returned afterwards, necessitating his withdrawing his hand back to the folds of his clothing. Turning to face the two other gods already in the room, Kelthis's clothing melted away, replaced procedurally by a incarnadine silk doublet and pants. It would be impossible for any mortal to discern the features of his face, difficult even for gods. Settling on a plain visage with reserved features, Kelthis willed his clothing to a brown woolen state. Better.

"Greetings, my brothers. Ages has it been since this throne was last occupied. I only hope that the one worthy of that seat is chosen. Which you seem to take as Prothos, Onhiel." Settling himself into one of the seats opposite the pair of gods, Kelthis's eyes flickered between purple and yellow even as they examined his companions. He cocked his head to the side, calculated to be just noticeable yet not intrusive so that Onhiel would notice his 'curiosity.'

---

The Deep Woods, shadowed and cloistered by the venerable trees whose age was far beyond that of a mortal man's. Paths wound their way through the stands of trunks, multitudinous strings connecting the Forest Cities of Faeros to each other and the outside world. Many might have found the silence and brooding presence of the Deep Woods imposing, constricting, even frightening, but to the inhabitants of the assorted city-states it was simply another facet of their life. Hundreds scurried along the roads, sometimes alone, often times in scores, merchant caravans bound with goods for a destination which would bring them the greatest profit.

Frontier posts ranged across the true heart of the Deep Woods, truly sequestered from civilization. Here did the woodsmen work, bringing in precious timbers and rare materials from these seldom traveled regions of the world. Many also doubled as warders, sometimes specifically operating as one, ranging out in missions that could take days or weeks, maintaining a constant vigil against any that might approach the Faerosian cities through this vector.

On the coastal plains and wetlands, farmers labored under the gaze of sun and cloud to bring their harvest, finish their craft, or tend to their family. Many lived respectable lives, provided for by the merchants in coin and goods for the nourishment which they delivered to the cities. Yet it did not matter where in Faeros one lived, for all knew something was changing. Priests, such as they existed in the largely privatized followings of Kelthis, told of incredible successes against original hopes. Compounding these favorable reports were the tidings of the sorcerers, many harnessing their abilities in amounts previously considered rare. All of Faeros waited, all of Faeros planned. A change was coming, and they would be ready.

Adiel

A gust of wind blew into the main hall of Illyus, particles of sand slowly trickling to the floor as the goddess Adiel appeared from the dust in the form of a young girl. Her blue dress swished about for a moment as the wind died down. Her gaze flicked around Illyus. It has been a long time since she was around here. Adiel internally scowled. She hated the wars that had gone on between her and her 'brothers and sisters' as she called them. They all descended from the same ancestors after all. A distant, slightly sad look came across Adiel's face as her gaze continued to scan the room. Her eyes widened as they crossed the floor below her feet. One of her boots quickly scooted across the floor, attempting to sweep the small pile sand she created when she came to Illyus. Adiel then awkwardly pointed a finger at the sand, causing it to fly off in a small gust of wind. With that out of the way, Adiel looked to the other deities that arrived. With a short sigh, Adiel pushed thoughts of the past behind her and offered a bow to the three before her.

"Greetings." She said, simply, looking to Onhiel and Kelthis respectively. "I am glad to see you again brothers." Her eyes flicked to the long table, a distant expression upon her face. The memories she was trying to hold back were returning. In the past she remained passive, avoiding any involvement with other nations. This time her plan was different. She wished to put herself in a position of power. She needed some leverage in case history were to repeat itself. Once again, Adiel brought herself back into the moment and she started to make her way over to the table.

Adiel would seat herself rather enthusiastically on Prothos's open side, staring up at him with a smile. "And hello to you, dear brother. It has been a long time since we've gathered together. How fares your lovely waters of Lemuria?" Her gaze would remain locked with his as she spoke, an elbow atop the arm rest to prop her chin up as she did so. "Which reminds me," she continues. "I've heard tales of many delightful resources in your nation that I feel my people would love. Being so far apart, I imagine our two nations have rather exotic goods in comparison. Perhaps the two of us could work out a trade deal after this election?" Adiel's smile returned, but it quickly faded into a look of intrigue when she spotted Prothos's octopus. "That is a rather unique creature! The oceans always seem to have such fascinating fauna. Perhaps one of your aquatic creatures will be the muse for Mandisa's next monument."

It seems Adiel would have continued had it not been for her remembering of the reason she had come: the voting. "Oh..." She paused after she and Prothos had finished their exchange. "I would like to hold my opinions until all our brothers and sisters have arrived." She then nods after finishing her statement, a warm smile coming across her face as she looked to the three deities she was with.

---

The Holy Nation of Mandisa

The bustling of the desert city of Heliopolis, capital of Mandisa, had not halted its daily business and work despite their knowledge of Adiel's meeting. Merchants chattered throughout the city, peddling their wares to Mandisans and travelers alike; masons toiled away at producing new structures be it housing, obelisk, or statue; and the businessmen of Mandisa circled around a table within the palace, each peering at another as they discussed plans for Adiel's trade routes.

Even outside of Heliopolis, the deserts were alive with caravans, travelers, and fauna. Scarab Beetles journeying along the same paths camels packed with numerous bags did. Jackals scavenged along the side of the path for food. Occasionally, a traveler would spot a fox scurrying across the sand in search for its next meal. The Mandisans were close to the animals. Sharing the desert with the fauna was very important to their Pharaoh and goddess, Adiel. There was most definitely more than enough space.

Rumors continued to spread in the Mandisan deserts. The myths and legends of the Nekropolis, or city of the dead. It was an old legend of a place that was lost in time, only visible if one were to venture into the right sandstorm at the right time. Inside, one would find the dead and the living dead in a city. Any who managed to find the gates of Nekropolis and enter were all never to be heard from alive, again. While many think it is simply travelers succumbing to desert heat, others think the bodies that are mysteriously found in the desert have much more sinister and supernatural explanation.

All would know that Nur was arriving long before her actual presence in the room. The very air in the great hall would become tense, and though it would give no sound, it would vaguely feel as if the room was buzzing with a faint sound of hornets. As the Doors would open once again, a figure, a humanoid female, seemingly made from shimmering orange energies made her way in. Her body was draped in a cloak made seemingly out of an unnaturally white leather, a gift of sorts, from her followers, created from years of sacrifices culminated into one product. Nur's every step towards her seat was loud, as if she was angered by something, and surely she was, she always was.

"Greetings..." Nur said, her greeting filled with a hollow and disgenuine tone. Nur turned sharply to her take her seat, as her eyes moved to look upon the faces of each of her fellow deities. She tapped her fingers in a rhythmic pattern. "We find ourselves here once more." The tapping stopped as her face took on a slightly agitated expression "I want to listen to all before I cast my vote, if they can come to any kind of sensible concensus."




The Warriors of En Sabir had seiged the City of Sa' for almost a week, the walls nearly crumbling, their foundations undermined, and tunnels dug beneath. As the gates were simultaniously burst into, warriors cralled out of the tunnels like rats storming and swarming as the main infantry poured through the gates. Archers took control of the walls, raining burning arrows into the incomming defenders, as the tunnel infantry surrounded them, the spearmen taking them out within a matter of minutes.

The Main Infantry made their way to the center of the city, toward's Sa's central treasury. Watching the battle was like art, the sheer intricacy of the battle was a sight to behold, the methods and tactics. It as over only a short while after it started, with the victorious soldiers of En Sabir marching back home, their gold trailing behind in carts, captives to be taken back as slaves or sacrificed at the local temple in the city of En Sabir, and the fear that was stuck into Sa', being more than enough for the warriors. The Elders of Sa' were spared, for the price of allowing Ensabian officials to interject upon their rulings, and for Sa' to have exclusive trade rights with only En Sabir.

This was a common day in Harran, land of the elves of the desert, blessed by the 4 rivers and Nur. The festival of Nur was to happen soon, and all cities were prepared to send their greatest to fight in the Games, with the hope of the greatest being sacrificed to Nur, for greater favor. The deserts would be red with blood by nightfall withing the next week.

The air grew even more tense as the supposed rival to the goddess of murder and violent behavior. It was Aftrone, walking in, her eyes face locking onto Nur for a slight moment before taking a seat on the exact opposite end of the spectrum. Her face should no signs of emotion, though she physically couldn't show facial expressions in the form. Her blackened skin making her look more of a shadow than an actual figure in the light. She simply listened to what her brothers and sisters said before actually saying something. "For once I agree with Nur, we should wait and hear everyone," she spoke softly, the red line on her face glowing as she spoke each word.


The day was cold, as it normally was in Atticun, yet the people were having a merry time as the watched the spectacle of Gladitorial combat in a coliseum. This battle had been brought forth by Aftrone herself, catching two child murderers and an arsonist. There was no way to escape their punishment as the Warriors were only armed with a spear versus five bears. The spectacle attracted many, even from the farmlands to watch. It was a great battle, with the death of the criminals and two bears.

In the neighboring forests, hunters drew their bows as the chased a wild buck towards a river. Crops did not grow much in the harsh north and so they had little time to grow what was needed. That did not deter those who wished to get food from a challenge though. The farmers to the south did what they could to make some sort of crop come alive with the slightly warmer climate. Horse-drawn wagons went about, from town to town in order to sell their supplies which mainly included fur, iron, wood, wheat, and the occasional wine or marble.

Yngvi

The distant pitch of a walking stick hitting against the hard surface of the realm's featureless white marble floor. Old Man Yngvi was approaching. "Eh, is it that time again?" He said. Contrary to his appearance Yngvi was one of the youngest gods yet his deep curiosity with the material world filled him with various experiences and before he realized he became an old man. He didn't mind that, though. Yngvi enjoyed every moment of his stay among mortals, especially his creations. Though as of the recent 5-6 centuries he became a bit less involved with them. It's a good learning experience, he thought.

Even if he was late and seemed elderly Yngvi had godlike ears. "Your sarcasm never ceases to amuse us, Ohniel. Our esteemed First is fickle like the seas he chose. I'd prefer spending the next cycle in peace and stability. The excitements of the material plane are more than enough for me, you see." Yngvi said. Just like his dwarves' relation with the sea, Yngvi couldn't really trust Prothos. He was an unsolvable mystery and the young god had better things to do than waste it on guessing what Prothos is like. The fact he thanked the God of Calamity's nomination with a straight face was again telling.

Yngvi exchanged his greetings with the other gods and took his seat the farthest from the throne. He looked around several times, expecting something to change. Then he stood up and audibly sighed. "Well, well. Indecisive as always. As the one among the young I shall break the ice. I vote for Orugoru, god of transition. Ironic, ain't? I trust in Aftrone's justice and stable leadership but as a hidden romantic I prefer just a bit more variety. Time to test the mettle of the young, I should say." Yngvi told this to the current audience.

Loud thumps in the distance could be heard at Illyuss, it was the god Bigher making his arrival. His size immense, for several miles a single step could be heard leaving a path of destruction that competed with the god of calamity himself. Arriving at the hall, he had taken a much smaller form than usual, his true size being too immense for even a palace fit for the gods.

Entering he stood around 20ft tall wearing sturdy leather armor, accompanied by his axe Sigmire and a worn wooden shield large enough to cover his head if held properly. His white beard so long it nearly touched his knees stained blood red from a previous battle, it had gone unwashed for a while.

“Greetings” he boomed followed by a long and hearty laugh. It was not often that he was in the presence of so many gods. Some of whom he respected more than others, not because of who they were, but of how they dealt with issues. He has never liked gods too afraid to face issues head on nor has he trusted them. The amusement of battle and the destruction that it left behind was taken away through ideals like planning and deceit. It was a testament to true strength, the ability to endure that he loved.

To large to take a seat next to his fellow gods, he simply stood along the end of the table, facing opposite to the throne. Two votes had been cast, the first for Prothos, an admirable choice by Onheil truly one of the strongest gods, the second for Orugoru, a more surprising choice. “I vote with Onheil. Prothos is truly a worth god for the throne, one whom I see fighting with me as an equal.” Bigher boomed. “I do not see the same for Orugoru.”

---

Thousands had gathered in the Famous Stone Arena in Stio Clal, easily seating ten thousands attendees. Today was a sight like none-other. Grevog “The Titan”, crowned king of Stio Clal three hundred years ago, faced off against Alackos “The Iron General”, second in command of Stio Clal’s army. Both warriors of unseens magnitude, what many consider the strongest in history. It was the fight for the crown.

Grevog stood patiently facing opposite to Alackos in the arena. He had brought his warhammer “Devastation”, forged in the fires of a volcano it had withstood five hundred years of use. He knew that he had peaked for his age long ago, yet he held the confidence of a warrior. With the strength of Bigher himself, he feared little, he would prove the might of Stio Clal’s king.

Alackos gave a smirk, and taunted Grevog. The giant carried a large one handed sword and massive wooden shield. The only giant to wear armor in the entirety of Stio Clal’s army he had brought it today, as a testament to his strength. Given only to the strongest individual in Stio Clal’s army, determined by the king himself, it was now used against him. This armor was powerful, but it had not tested it’s durability against Devastation, nor has it seen weapons swung by a giant, let alone their king. It was a fight, few would ever see.

A gong was rung signaling the start of the battle, and both giants charged. The first swing was made by Grevog with a booming force strong enough to collapse a city wall, blocked by the large wooden shield carried by Alackos, before shattering. “Your shield will not save you from a second blow Alackos, say your prayers.” He boomed before making a second swing, however Alackos had mobility on his side. With a quick swing of his sword, he cut Grevog’s leg, throwing his next swing into a clear miss.

“You are old and weak, die like a good king.” Alackos shouted preparing to make a final thrust for Grevogs heart, before swiftly being knocked to the ground by a swift kick. The crowd cheered, as Grevog slowly began to stand once again. Preparing another swing, this one stronger than even that of the first, a clear shot for Alackos chest. Alackos tried rolling to the side, but his left arm caught by the impact of the hammer, broken and useless. The giant could only feel pain, unable to fight back. The Iron General’s armor could not deflect a blow from a warhammer, let alone one swung by the strongest of giants.

“You fought well.” Grevog remarked, before the final swing was made. This time for Alackos’ head, leaving him dead on the ground. “If any others challenge my authority as the strongest in Stio Clal then step forward.” The crowd fell silent, and no one said a single word. “Then it is decided, I am still king of Stio Clal. The strongest of warriors. As for who shall take the Iron General’s place, that will be decided soon enough. For now enjoy the festivities.”

Prothos felt a change in the air and the light flicker as a shape entered the room. This one was a mystery to Prothos, a darkness just beyond the reach of his ancient eyes. He nodded slightly to Kelthis as the Shadowed One took a seat opposite Onheil and himself.

I must watch this one.

"Onheil has proposed my appointment as king, it is true. Let us wait for the others to join before we-ah who is that now?"

A gust of wind had blown in, scattering golden sand across the floor.

"Fortune is upon us," said Prothos softly. "Does anyone hear hornets buzzing-and Nur has arrived as well."

(Prothos smiled as Adiel complimented his companion, a tangle of slime and tentacles now quietly curled up on his lap. He whispered, "We have much to discuss at a later time, Lady of Fortune...")

Then came Aftrone, the goddes of Judgement. Prothos furrowed his brow, and finally Yngvi, the Dwarven Lord and Bigher, god of Earth.

Prothos listened carefully to the words of Yngvi, the young god was certainly enthusiastic. Bighers vote of confidence was a surprise-the God of Earth was the antithesis of Prothos-slow to change, not like the quickly shifting oceans, the earth took eons to change form. But it did not mean the god of Oceans did not like Bigher; Oceans were meaningless without a shore to crash upon.

"My thanks Bigher for your vote as well. But you surprise me Yngvi, your vote cast so quickly, and for a god who has yet to show himself! Come now, tell me what is your game O Dwarven Lord!-no rather let us drink and argue and then maybe you can pry a vote from me.."

Some indefinable gloom had taken up to shroud everything, casting its shadow through the wide arc of the window behind the future king's seat, as though the treacherous snow-capped mountaintops that focused the light of the planet's distant sun into bright daylight within Illyuss had somehow been re-positioned, or smudged with the brown haze of smoke that shrouded much of the denser and more industrious portions of the mainland. The light of the brilliant chandeliers hanging overhead seemed brighter than usual, almost harsh, but somehow that only deepened the gloom.

Orugoru discovered now an odd, accidental echo of memory, a new harmonic resonance inside his head, when he looked at the curving view wall that threw into silhouette the sovereign's empty, single large chair. Orugoru had positioned himself within the doorway of the grandiose meeting chamber, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out upon the smoke-hazed morning. He'd turned and finally approached Prothos, the closest of gods to him, mirroring his stance. Gently, he laid a hand on the god's shoulder, and a hint of frown fleeted over his face at how frail seemed the little flesh and bone he had in comparison to the plump, brine-enriched mass beneath the tunic.

"Greetings, brother," Orugoru said slowly, his energy wrought from another sleepless night.

---


They had finally arrived in Ishikara: glittering, beautiful Ishikara, where neat buildings and grand estates reside in the shadow of the imperial palace, with its lime-tree avenues, its shimmering lakes and fountains, its exquisitely tended topiary. The road from Doitsu, a day's journey, was lit by overhanging oil lamps, for the poor in the capital use tallow candles, and the smoke from the tallow manufactures hangs over the city like a death shroud, dirtying the skin and choking the lungs. Dressed in rags, their backs hunched either with the weight of their physical burden or of mental sorrow, the poor people of Doitsu creep through streets that never seem to get light.

The streets stream with open sewers, where mud and human effluent flow freely, coating the legs of those who carry delegates' sedan chairs as they pass through, staring wide-eyed out the windows much like the aforementioned travelers. On the way they passed figures in the fields, shrouded in mist like ghosts. These barefooted peasants tended noble land and starved if the crop is bad, virtual slaves of the landowners.

It was of almost no surprise then that on a hillside overlooking a tiny village outside the imperial homestead, three land-workers wearing leather jerkins laughed and joked, and then, on the count of three, heaved a gallows onto a low wooden platform. One of the men placed a three-legged stool beneath the gallows, then bent to help his two companions as they went to work hammering in the struts that would keep the gallows in place, the rhythmic knock-knock carried on the wind where the travelers sat on their horses, beautiful and calm geldings.

At the bottom of the hill was a village. It was a tiny village, more like a cluster of disconsolate shacks and a tavern that had been scattered around along the perimeter of a brown and muddy square, but it was a village all the same. A freezing rain had eased to a steady and just-as-freezing drizzle and a fierce, bone-chilling wind uncommon in such southeasterly settlements. The villagers waiting in the square wrapped shawls tightly around themselves, clasping shirts at their necks as they awaited the day's entertainment - a hanging. What could be better? Nothing like a good hanging to raise the spirits when the frost had killed much of the previous year's crops and the local landowner was raising his rents and the emperor in Ishikara had new taxes he hoped to enforce.

Prothos laughed a deep, tempestuous whoop. "Excellent timing! We were just talking about you Orugoru!"

Prothos gestured for the horned god to have a seat at the council table."Is that all of us then?"


The children of Atticus del Arko raced along the stone seawall watching the dozen or so merchant ships entering the harbor. The southern winds were warm, pushed north by the One Who Was First to carry the trader fleets of Lemuria home. "Fathers home! Fathers home!" cried a young girl, halting at a flight of steps that led down to the wharf.

A tall, handsome boy joined her at the steps, followed by another young girl. They were all dressed in fine clothing, starched white with gold and blue stitching. Their family crest was printed on the breast of each ones tunic; an octopus curled around a whelk.

"Which ship is his Julian?" asked the first girl. "I don't remember what the sails look like."

The boy, Julian put his arm around his sister. "Of course you don't Lea, you were but a babe when he left for Mandisa!"

Lea shrugged her brothers arm from her shoulder. "Well which is it Jules?"

The youngest Arko child pointed out into the southern seas where the skies had suddenly grown very dark. Clouds were massing, swirling in the dark and shimmering yellow and white from lightning. The warm winds suddenly turned chilly and the waves in the wharf below showed whitecaps.

Onhiel's Sharp eyes locked onto prothos as he spilt into the chamber, His brother's sense of humor greeting him first thing.
"Ah Onhiel good to see you again. Fancy a Hurricane... " For a moment, and only a moment did Onhiel consider this mock proposition but then with a grin erased this notion from his mind. Prothos was as strong as he was old. Though he wasn't much younger than him he wasn't nearly as strong. Onhiels domain was theoretical while Prothos was physical and took much more strength to maintain.

Kelthis was next, and after his greeting he'd give him a inquisitive look, as if maybe he thought Onhiel was planning something... He returned the stare and cocked an eyebrow dropping his grin. He felt bad for the deity, to be the god of deceit and planning must be a burden. Though contrary to belief he too fell under a similar allegiance, results. Though a surprisingly powerful god, he knew that at anytime he could be struck down or his followers could dissipate and with one of the smallest following he needed strong allies.

Adiel her usual self immediately trying to kiss up to Prothos and strike a trade agreement. She often secretly got to Onhiel. Though his people did not have luxuries that most others had, they had an unhealthy devotion to him and in his opinion that was worth more than any luxury they could want. They weren't his to spoil so much as to use though they had no idea. No god had ever visited domain though his people had met other civilizations, most of this was due to Onhiel being a neutral party or worse the common enemy.

Nur and Afrtone to Onhiel these two were the two gods who would cancel each other out. And was actually surprised they had survived the war, having thought they would have at least slew each other. Afrtone was too righteous to be a leader and Nur though it had been awhile it was still burnt into the memories of most gods. She could not be trusted, and it was against his better judgement to invite her here for the voting.

Bigher voted with him, which was a good sign. One for Orugoru, two for prothos. He was glad Bigher favored strength because there were few as strong as Bigher, or even Prothos he couldn't tell who was stronger not with out seeing them fight.

Bigher and Prothos, Onhiel felt were of similar mind to himself or at least he hopped. Onhiel was a walking disaster yet they had been set in their ways long before many of the other gods had been needed or created. Onhiel was first crafted after they Ten creators had the misfortune of leaving the Orb and traveling to find the void. Onhiel had become their mistake and had been born from it.

"Your sarcasm never ceases to amuse us, Ohniel..." Yngvi had said. He enjoyed the younger god quite a bit. He found him very amusing as he was very well spoken and knowledgeable. "But Yngvi, I'm not being sarcastic. Though you say its fickle and I agree, its what we need. To keep us in check and to balance us. We have gods like myself, and Nur who are prone to destroying things, and gods like Aftrone who would impose rule after rule, taking away our liberties. Though sister I do love you, its just your nature. The god of oceans is more balanced than any one god. Calm yet violent." Onhiel knew these words were a little blunt but he didn't have all the time to engage the others in idle chit chat.

Orugoru had finally made his entry, he was a very interesting god. He'd never had the chance to actually engage in conversation with him. Someday he would. This day he especially seemed drained and was lingering near prothos. As he suspected it seemed Prothos was going to indeed become a key player.

"Is that all of us then?" Prothos had inquired. Onhiel gave a quick retort "Yes it is brother, I fear some of the other gods maybe very late or not showing at all prefering to not cast a vote and staying in the shadows." He stood up, and wandered to the front of the table where the throne sat he stood beside the chair and began to act as proctor for the voting. "As of now we have Two votes for Prothos, and one for Orugoru, you heard my statement why I voted for Prothos. Now would be a good time to discuss who should be our King, and please think this through brothers and sisters. It may not seem I have, but i've been pondering these thoughts for ages. And as the first seated here today I'm acting proctor and keep tally of the votes, I permit you to speak up if I miscount. Though a god I do make mistakes" His tone authoritative and unwavering "Usually in the form of natural disasters." He tacked on jokingly

---

There was much wooping and hollering, Warriors rode in a massive circle outside of the tent city. They practiced basic combat movements, the sounding of horns caused the formation to change depending on blasts. It was a very interesting thing to witness and it could be hard to understand with out having been raised as a son of Ebir. Back in the city the women washed and mended clothes. Some were hauling dried meats and grains to the hidden grainery. The warchief sat on a throne made from human flesh and the bones of animals, it was gruesome site yet each warchief before him had created one. Aed, relaxed against the arm rest. His posture poor, though it didn't matter to any of his subjects. The captured Wildmen had been broken one of the previous nights. Though only in their care for a short time they now sat in their cages resigned to their fates. They would be ritually executed soon, or as soon as the All father returned. Only those who looked their captors in the eye before execution would be allowed to fight in a blood sport. He'd selected ten of his finest upcoming warriors to all battle for the glory of onhiel.

Aed had noticed that Onhiel would come at random points in their lives, and he never seemed to age. His power was incredible and he could easily best every man in the Ebir lands. The last time he'd seen the father he was merely a child and his family was nameless in the lands of Ebir. His father had held him out from the crowd, and onhiel had graced him with a single palm touch to the top of his head. After that his entire family had succumed to a terrible plague that had crippled the great traveling tribe for almost a year. Many died due to sickness or starvation in the winter. After the trial he came out stronger and much wiser. He learned quickly and soon had accomplished many of the tasks to become a War Chief by the time the former chief had died he was ready and assumed the mantle. Now a mere Thirty-five summers old he ran the entire First great tribe.

"While I Yngvi makes points, I do not believe that transition is our best bet for leadership. I would not vote myself or Orugoru, nor would I vote for Adiel for her greed can... Influence her. My vote will also go the Prothos, following up with what brother Onhiel's words," Aftrone said, as she looked at the gods that had come to the meeting. Her words laced with nothing but neutrality as she agreed Onhiel's words, not taking offense to anything he had said. "Also, I don't take away liberties... Do I?," she inquired with a light chuckle, knowing full well what she does.

It was good to be interacting with others once more as it became rather dull being involved in the lives of her mortal subjects. Aftrone straightened her posture and looked out to simply watch the others as she did not feel the need to speak any more. Her feelings towards the others were mainly caring except for Nur of course, though she held some shred of hatred towards Onhiel. That was only because he was a cause for destruction, something that she was against.

---------------------

Atticun

The people rejoiced as they welcomed their warriors back to the capital city, Atticun, as the army needed to mobilize a small force to destroy a bandit encampment which planned to rid the influence of Aftrone. This force was led by Deftros Wind-Breaker, blessed by Aftrone when he had shown his prowess as a warrior. The people would celebrate for the victory, having many drinks and foods as a reward. They did have to keep themselves from getting drunk, else they would face the father of the Justice Keepers, the other nine heroes of the realm. They were the ones who enforce the laws of the land.

Kelthis noted the fading of Onhiel's smile and the twitch of his eyebrow, filing away the information, processing it, predicting. It was not simply his business to know how other's would react to certain actions from certain people, it was his divine duty, an inescapable grasp which had sheltered Kelthis for his entire life. Righting his head, the god looked towards the door as Adiel swept in, the wind which she stirred parting at his form, leaving all untouched. Unconsciously, his figure molded itself slightly, taking an appearance more similar to that of the goddess. Her mentality - self-important, greedy, generous, somewhat capricious- could lend itself easily to manipulation. Yet even he could not truly discern other gods and so it was only left to wait.

More gods began to file in, Nur and Aftrone and Yngvi and Bigher and Orugoru, each coming in their own fashion. The Wrothful One, a flickering passion that burned all in its path. The Scale Bearer, balanced and lawful. The 'All-Father' - a smirk tinged Kelthis's lips for a moment, darting away instantaneously - as direct and stubborn as the race of his making. The God of the Earth, brutal, prideful, physical. And the Changing One, at once alone and in communion with the world. Each would see a reflection of themselves upon entering, a fleeting image resembling their oft-worn features that became Kelthis's currently chosen form.

Onhiel strode to the front of the table, settling next to the chair. Sound filtered into Kelthis's mind, held for later acknowledgement for his attentions turned elsewhere. He could guess as to the reactions of his fellow deities to the following display. Once again was his form cloaked, wreathed in shadow, phased into the seat of the throne. Three for Prothos and one for Orugoru. The course seemed certain. It was only a matter of steering the path.

"We presume to know our paths, just as we presume that the proceedings signify a change in the order. For aeons have we abandoned this throne, this room. Now we return to choose the one whom would lead us." Light fell in on the chair, streaming towards the center of Kelthis's body, disappearing in motes of dust and a devouring darkness. "Our forerunners have abandoned us, just as we abandoned this throne. And now it is occupied." Veins of shadow crawled along the edges of the throne even as the glimmer of the metal dulled. "If you would presume yourself worthy of such a mantle, ascend and spare me this mockery. There is only one heaven to master and none may hold it."

Adiel

Adiel's eyes remained on Prothos as the remaining gods entered. She'd give them a quick welcome as they did, seemingly ignoring any past hostilities. Adiel was seemingly much different from her past self. Setting aside her usual over friendliness, she gave each of her brothers and sisters a quite passionate look as they entered. Her intentions were not all as naive as their previous meetings though. Yes, Adiel planned to make each of her brothers and sisters friends again, but now, she wasn't simply going to sit idly by while wars broke out and do nothing about it. She was planning to become one of the King's four advisors.

Adiel's infatuated gaze towards Prothos turned to a frown as Aftrone spoke of her. It was only fair to stick the Goddess of Fortune with the label of 'greed'. Adiel always thought herself rather generous, making it show in her lovely Mandisa. The citizens lived happily, and despite their work to sustain life in the harsh desert, Adiel had always encouraged them with all the luxuries she had access to. She loved to pamper her citizens.

As talk of the election continued, Adiel waited a bit longer than a few of her brothers and sisters, allowing them to cast their votes. Her smile returned as Aftrone also opted to elect Prothos. Adiel found this an appropriate time to speak up. She then stood and started to speak: "I too, would like to vote for Prothos. Although I see all of us fit for the position, I feel brother Prothos shall do us all good as King." Slowly, Adiel seated herself with a gentle bow of her head in the direction of Prothos. "I thank you for organizing this, Onhiel."

Her eyes then fell upon Kelthis, a hint of inquiry in her eyes as he started his short speech. In her eyes, Kelthis was always plotting something. She had tended to try to avoid him if possible, for he was the most unpredictable to her. She didn't wish to put her citizens in harms way. He was one of the few gods that Adiel had not offered to ally with during war times.

---

The Holy Nation of Mandisa

Hidden with the great palace where their goddess had lived, ten Mandisans met. Concealing leather masks cover their faces. Each man remains a solemn and eerie quiet as stares are exchanged. One man stands, speaking up in a muffled tone through his mask, which happens to be slightly different than the masks of the other nine. "Now then... It is time for the meeting to commence. As captain of the Royal Mandisan Vanguard, I, Amir, welcome you." Each of the nine would stand and bow to Amir in succession. He was held in great reverance in Mandisa, and was never seen speaking in public. The Royal Mandisan Vanguard had the privilege of serving under him. With Adiel gone, the Vanguard had to plan the defense of Mandisa. Adiel was never good with war anyways. It was as if Amir was an extension of her being. Well, he at least carried a piece of her with him.

The Mandisans cheered. The new obelisk in Heliopolis was erected. Now the masons would be rewarded with a feast in company of Adiel. That was the reward for serving as one of her monument architects. Now all the citizens awaited Adiel's blessing for the newly created monument. Even though this wasn't her monument architects' main project, the citizens of Heliopolis still enjoyed each monument that was created in Mandisa.

Prothos stood and shook his fist at Kelthis."What would you have us do Kelthis? I would listen to more of your words-already my heart stirs like a tempest on the horizon. So easily this council comes to a consensus on who would preside; but you, master of deceit would speak to us as though we did not witness the same aeons of chaos. Tell us Kelthis, what it is you would wish this council do?!

The sea-god sat back down, deflated. He had not meant to lose his temper so quickly-but like the oceans-his disposition could change with little warning.

"My apologies Kelthis-truthfully I would hear what you have to say."

Onhiel held up his hands, to quell the room. He looked to Kelthis his yellow hues bore into the god. Onhiels gaze could be an uneasy thing to hold. His unusual colored eyes and the destruction he was capable of bring down onto people would cause mortals to quake but most likely mean nothing to another god. "Brother, please sit down, and try not to incite any unrest. If we do not elect a king what would you have us do instead? As of right now its four votes Prothos to one vote Orugoru. If anyone were to vote for another god it would mean that victory belongs to Prothos. Being eight of us, and five votes already used." He looked about the room once more lifting his gaze from Kelthis, he turned to each of his brothers and sisters letting this sink in. "I would like this to be over sometime in the current Era, as I have important things to attend to on the surface." He leaned onto the table, and ran a hand through his hair. These gods, were just like children, and were beginning to stress him out. "Lets just see what the next few votes bring us, and end this ordeal."

"So it is me then. Very well." Prothos stood and walked toward the kings chair at the head of the table. Water roiled at his sandal-clad feet. Waves began forming and the chamber floor was suddenly awash in frothy surf. The kings chair began to change. Coral in shades of dusky reds and vibrant greens and blues grew with lightning speed out of the armrests and up the back. Kelp and sea grass wove itself to form a cushion and an assortment of crustaceans and barnacles adorned the throne.

"That is more to my liking," said Prothos taking his seat. "Now, how shall we divide the work among this council?" Prothos surveyed the room. "Let us name the council-in the old ways. The domain of War shall have a new master-Bigher, that would suit you best. And in quick succession, Prothos named the new masters of Death, Peace and the Ferryman.

I see no better candidate for Peace than Adiel. For the realm of the Underworld I give to Orugoru. For what greater Transition is there than death? The Ferryman is a tricky choice. What say you Aftrone? Your Judgement will be fair, no doubt."

Kelthis's features remained impassive throughout the entirety of the ordeal, only a simple shifting of his eyes between the gods as they spoke acknowledging that they even existed, that the words they voiced mattered to his psyche in any way. They did not as a matter of point for although he could not predict their exact sentences he knew what they would do in reaction to his actions. Why could they not see? Why did they apologize, appease, accuse and patronize him, he who knows what can transpire before others?

His lips trembled into a rictus snarl even as hands tightened around the arms of the throne, a facsimile of blood flushing lightening the tone of his hands. "Of course I speak to you as if you did not witness the same for you did not. You cannot comprehend nor will you ever what I endured during that time. I scoff at the idea that you even carry out a vote or that you assume it shall mean a drastic change in Illysus. Take your damned throne, Prothos, for you were always going to receive it. Take it and allow me rest from these assembled follies,"spat the god. An uncharacteristic anger had entered Kelthis's voice, an emotion that no god would have heard for untold centuries if ever in their existence.

Stepping to the door, he found that his unconscious mind had created the semblance of pain for him, a distraction in the tearing of incorporeal flesh. A seething sigh escaped his compressed lips. Prothos rattled off the names of his advisers, names that Kelthis knew would be there, had known since the calling of the moot yet did not ease his troubled soul. A fist lashed out and slammed into the wall near the entrance, denting the godly material, sending a resounding thunder throughout the hall. Turning his head to face the assembled major gods, the shadows of his form darkened. "Enjoy your kingship, brother," he uttered, an ominous yet sad tenor in his speech. "Enjoy it while the glamour lasts." Stepping through the closed doors in a phasing form, the god of planning disappeared from the hall, his mark, both physical and mental, left for those remaining.

Adiel

Adiel looked to Prothos with excited eyes. "I thank you for your choice, Brother Prothos. I shall do my best to assist with anything you might need." She stood with a modest bow of her head, then accepting her seat. Adiel's eyes fall upon Kelthis and she held back a sigh as her rather devious brother gave protest. She had almost visibly jumped as his fist made contact with the wall of Illyuss.

Adiel then stands, giving a quick nod to Prothos, assuring she was not interrupting. "A shame he is to miss the announcement, though we all know he'll hear about it some way." Adiel rolls her eyes a bit before continuing. "Never the matter. I'd like to announce Mandisa's First World Fair. I find it an adequate event to commemorate our reunion, brothers and sisters. Within the upcoming months, you and your people are all invited to my wondrous desert home. I am sure your people would appreciate the exchange of culture as much as the Mandisans, not to mention I have no doubt the trading potential will be great. I've set aside a rather large portion of the newly constructed accommodations for your people to stay and set up shop in." Adiel paused a moment, gauging her fellow gods' reactions with a smile still upon her face.

"The festivities will start soon. I wish to give you all ample time to allow your people to come to Mandisa, and with that, any more diplomatic agreements between Mandisa and its neighbors can be made at the festival should you attend." Adiel then took her seat with a quite contempt look on her face. She allowed her fellow gods to give their rebuttals before responding.

After Adiel and her brothers and sisters were finished with any planning or questions she stood once more. "Now that my part is done, I must get back to Mandisa to attend to my duties. It has been a wonderful reunion and I look forward to our future meetings. I have great expectations, Prothos." She'd say before the sand-filled, windy breeze begins to swoop around her. Soon, Adiel's entire figure has disappeared and the wind dies down, leaving a small, rather awkward pile of sand in her wake.

---

The Holy Nation Of Mandisa

The sprawling capital of Heliopolis hustles and bustles about as usual, but even more so as the Mandisan World Fair neared. Representatives held constant meetings, organizing and dividing up stalls and shops for traders and missionaries alike, while the masons were still busy with the work of more sandstone hotels. Mandisa was preparing for the upcoming tourists. It was a rather good day when in the near future, prosperity was to come to the desert nation.

Within the palace, the bronze-masked chosen Royal Guards await their Goddess while making introductions. Adiel soon arrives in the room in a similar manner of her usual 'gust of wind' entrance. "I thank you all for gathering so soon." She nods to Amir, standing at his side as she moves up to the table. "Now, let us talk defense for the upcoming event..."