Millennia had passed… Wars had gone by, technologies have advanced, nations have risen, nations have fallen. Deities and Pious Kings rise and fall still today just as they have before, but today things were different. Things were going to change. Today was the day the kings and queens of this world would meet in a lavish and beautiful kingdom that now stood in ruin. It was a scar on the land, reminding the Deities of the previous wars of which the took part in. Charybdis was crumbling, but as the sun broke over the skies and the centuries long war ended. It would be rebuilt, reconstructed, and re-beautified, for it was today that each Deity would reclaim their hall and reshape it in a new image- one capable of resembling them in this new age.

Though, with the war ending, making the collective home of gods was far down on the list of tasks that needed doing. It was today that the greatest of deific figures would meet amongst the halls of Charybdis and decide which of those among them would take the head of the table and become the King of Gods and his advisors. A powerful role it was to hold such a title, and one of the remaining Deities after the wars would fill that role and choose those that rule beside them. There were two advisors that needed chosen, and each would be given a unique ability for their particular aspect, those aspects being War and Peace.

These two advisors, after being chosen by their king as the Gods of War and Peace are each given a unique ability. Those abilities being the power to pacify battlefields for days at a time, or the power to give a hero near demigod-like powers. Of course, both of these powers pale in comparison to the strength of the King of Gods. Every god controls their own hall in Charybdis, but it is only the King of Gods that can bend its very essence at his whim. Voting a Deity into this position was a tough task for many of the remaining Deities after the grief of war’s passed, but alas, it was time for the Deities that remained in power to convene. There was only a handful of them, but the world was on their backs.

---

It wouldn’t be long before every single one of those that Adiel once feared as conquerors would return to the hall that the lot of them once sat in as creators of this world. Oh how things had changed since then. Adiel was never one to partake in the constant savagery of the warring nations. Perhaps that was why Mandisa was prospering today. Mandisa was very isolated in those dark times even despite their mercantilist nature, for they had nowhere near enough troops to go on any sort of advance. Adiel only wished for those dark days to be buried.

A small cloud of sand swirled into a small twister in the middle of Charybdis. It wasn’t long before this sand began to lose its speed, gently settling on the floor, and as the veil of sand was lifted, Adiel’s usual figure came into view. She was just down in Mandisa working with a set of advisors to plan the erection of more obelisks along Mandisa’s most travelled roads, but it had likely been days since that occurred. Time flowed very strangely in Charybdis. It was often hard to place when exactly you were after spending extended periods of time in the halls of gods.

Before her was a long table with far too many chairs for those that would heed the summons of their fellow deities today. On one end sat a large throne-esque chair fit for their King. It was an elegant and ornate meeting room where diplomacy was originally to be conducted between the descendants, but instead it remained in slight ruin, and due to Adiel being the first to arrive, there was an eerie silence to the entire hall. Today marked a change in its emptiness, though. With a new king to lead, Charybdis would no doubt become lively with Deities, old and new alike, mingling and achieving great things. The disrepair of this room, however, had Adiel worried about what her personal hall looked like. No doubt it was completely tattered and ruined.

She began to slowly make her way through the great halls of Charybdis in search of her personal hall. As the first there, she would have time to at least take a look in the old place and see what had become of it. A rather pristine arch of sandstone carved into the side of a walkway marked the entrance to her old paradise. The contents of this huge room, however, were not as wondrous. Adiel’s obelisks bore out of the floors, walls, and ceilings alike. They were strewn about in the dusty room as if they infected it like stalagmites and stalactites. All the water from the river-like fountain that surrounded the room had been dried, leaving her hall- just as the rest of Charybdis- eerily silent. Adiel let out a long and wispy sigh as she peered towards the large chair that she once sat atop happily. She had hoped the room would soon be return to its former glory, but for now she merely turned back towards the meeting hall and ambled along the echoey Charybdian palace.

Casually and observantly, Adiel took a few paces around the table. It had been ages since a group like this had met, and many times when they had met before for diplomatic meetings during wartimes, Adiel simply didn’t attend. In a world of chaos and war, Adiel wanted no part. She felt the political aspect of the battling was silly, and would often deny any sort of assistance to others aside from perhaps a monetary gift or tribute to keep the fighting away from her beloved Mandisa. Perhaps that it why Mandisa is the flourishing paradise, albeit a bone dry paradise that it is today. Adiel didn’t seat herself- not yet. Instead she merely leaned against a pillar by the edge of the room, peering out at the open sides of the room that showed the clouds on which the palace sat and the wondrous setting sun. Her old friends would arrive shortly.

---

The bustling business of Mandisans in the desert capital of Heliopolis had not halted in their daily tasks and work even with their knowledge of Adiel’s meeting. Merchants chattered through the city, peddling wares throughout the streets to travellers and Mandisans alike; masons toiled away in their great constructive feats, producing new wondrous structures whether they be housing, obelisk, or statue; and the businessmen of Mandisa found themselves circled around a table within Adiel’s great palace in attempts to discuss future trade routes that would be recreated after being cut off for so long.

Even outside the mighty Sun City that was Heliopolis, Adiel’s deserts were alive and rampant with the caravans of traders, travellers, and desert bestiary. Adiel’s beloved Scarab Beetles skittered along the same paths in the sand that were taken by camels that were packed high with numerous bags of goods. Jackals scavenged along the sides of paths, scavenging and hunting for a meal in the hot and dry air. Occasionally a traveller would spot a cat or a fox scurrying across the sands on the hunt as well. The people of Adiel’s nation were very close to the animals it harbored. So sharing the desert with its inhabitants was very important and kept in high regards by Mandisa’s pharaoh and goddess. It wasn’t like the wasteland that was Mandisa’s deserts didn’t have enough space for all its inhabitants and more, so Adiel wished to coexist.

Though, not all was well in Mandisa, just as in almost every nation. Even the wide deserts had their problems. The myths and legends of the Nekropolis, or city of the dead were ever present and growing in popularity. It was an old legend of a place that was lost in time. Only visible if you were to venture into the right sandstorm at the right time somewhere in the vast deserts, a gate would appear. Inside this gate, one would find the dead and the living dead in a festering city of decay. Any of those who managed to supposedly find the gates of Nekropolis and enter them were never heard from alive again. While many think it is simply travellers succumbing to the ever present and relentless desert heat, many Mandisans believe in the legends that explain the bodies mysteriously discovered in the deserts have much more sinister and supernatural explanations.

Internal protests filled his mind. Cicero had no desire to be here, to be walking up to the building that had sat unattended for however many years since the huge battles had happened. He was inexperienced at the time, often deciding to stay to the sides and watch learning the tactics of the people who were much better at war and planning than he. Thinking about his actions and how he was a bit cowardly rolled around his mind whenever he even remotely thought of the grandiose palace. His nation was a mere set of villages at the time so no one had really thought much of the young god at the time, no one really wanted to inhabit the brute cold that swept over the desolate land either so they were sure he would soon perish. Those others who enjoyed brushing him off were the one who brought upon their own demise. A small smirk slipped onto his face thinking about the irony of it all. But he could not hide from fate, or the royal advisors who had dragged him out of the royal palace kicking and screaming. They threatened to stop praying to him for a full week if he decided not to go, so he then made the choice to go see his old pals.

Taking his first few steps inside the palace the memories of how it prospered rushed over him. The golds and silvers streaming from all around, pillars and statues that stood proudly of Kings and Queens that had passed. It was just as breathtaking as Cicero had remembered albeit a bit dusty. The tapping of his shoes echoed in the silent world making his hair stand on end, it was eerie in a way. Though it seemed he was the first to arrive which was surprising, he made sure to leave with enough time to be fashionably late. Even though..perhaps his mild excitement to see his hall was too much and he may have hurried his travels. Not that he would ever admit to such a thing. Taking a good look around, he saw the long table stretched out before him followed by the three seats of War, Peace and King. He ran his fingers over the elegant table before stopping at one of the chairs at the very end and placing a hand on it. It was his old chair, the one he sat in and watched the others closely. Even still now, in the new millennia he was considered one of the smaller gods as his nation was still the smallest one. Not that he cared, it got the job done and so the bigger titles never really interested him. Cicero knew he had a habit of dicking around too much to take a larger job seriously, so it was fine with him.

Curiosity lead his feet to walk to find his personal hall. Before, he had a mere room, though the more he thought about it the more he realized it was a broom closet compared to the rest of them. Though it grew in size in pace with his nation, it grew just as he did so he knew it had to be different now. His fluffy, spotted tail swished around showing the excitement that refused to break through on his poker face as he neared closer. Peering around the corner what greeted him was a barren iced over wonderland. Down the middle was an all ice walkway leading up some stairs to a dusty silver throne. On either side was snow mounds and flowers made entirely of icicles wilted over, the snow melted into small rivers and puddles creating a slush. Cicero cringed at the sight, it got surely larger but the lack of care he put into the room obviously showed. It really needed a fresh touch up. Regardless, it didn’t stop him from gliding elegantly over the ice path, up the white stairs and plopping into his throne. His smug face broke for a mere second as the thoughts of fixing up the hall filled his head. Though it soon returned to his sarcastic, mischievous look and he swiftly pushed himself up and slid right back out of his hall. He knew he would return to it shortly but he first had to check if anyone else had arrived.

Returning to the central room, someone new had arrived. It was the Goddess of Fortune, the Princess of the sand, Adiel of Mandisa. He never had much communication with her, though he considered her to be one of the more pleasant gods to be associated with. Their nations were vastly different, himself being the harsh cold and hers the blistering heat. Her demeanor was that of a princess who gets shit done and takes no shit. It was a shame, he felt as though he could get along with her better if they had more in common and were closer together. Cicero let out a small snicker as he thought of all the shit he could give her though if they did live closer together. Perhaps it was for the best then. Finally he let his presence be known had she not already saw him. “Well hello there friend, fancy meeting you here.” His voice was rich with playful, lazy, sarcasm, the large white tail fluffing up in greeting. Taking steps closer to Adiel, Cicero stood on her right tapping her shoulder. “When did you arrive? I didn’t see anyone when I got here so I assumed I was the first. Are there others here yet?” He paused, unsure of what else he should say. So he closed his mouth and crossed his arms quirking an eyebrow at her.

---

White. Glittering white as far as the eye could see in all directions, the lanterns lit up outside of the entrance to Pruinae creating a warm feeling to the absolute cold. The white palace that stood proudly, glittering and shimmering against the sun was at the top of a large set of marble steps. The people of the city setting up for a festival of sorts, as there was always some sort of reason to be merry and drunk within the nation wherever it may be. This particular one was the celebrate their pesky, prankster of a God being a way for a while and giving them some time to not worry about what animal they kill was him or not and other troubles lifted from their shoulders. The queen met with the people, instructing on where they should set up certain decore and the king sent out the hunters with wolves to bring in large hauls of food while they could. The princess taught the new dance that was to be performed and the prince stayed inside of the palace to set up for the ball. Although the people adored their god, they appreciated the moments they could just pray to him rather than deal with his antics. It all ran smoothly and gave those in the city a large headache when he was too bored.

The other cities caught wind of this, causing a frenzy of praying to shrines and massive hunting parties to amass. The glittering snow didn’t stop the people from enjoying their time outside, layering clothes and furs over each other. The ventures into the ever extending mountains and adventuring further up north to capture glimpses of rare animals, the people of the nation and tourists never ran out of places to travel. The nation prospered with the prospect of new found places. All was well within the icey nation, beyond the ever annoyance and stress inducing god they all loved though they were much too proud to admit it to his smug face. Mages from around Horus though knew when to properly thank their god for his divine yet indirect intervention upon their lives. Things were just as shimmering with vitality as the glittering ground was.

The shadow of a tree darkened. Slowly becoming darker and darker to the point it seemed to be as dark as the void in between the stars. From it, a hooded god emerged. The god slowly lowered his hood. It had been a long while since he had gone to the island. He doesn't remember coming to his hall ever since the incident with that pesky forest god. She wasn't all that bad though.

He looked about, simply walking towards his hall. He saw halls of all kinds on his way... certainly many wouldn't be coming back. And those who were, may not be coming any time soon. He stood in front of it, it was as if the hall had been carved into an endless onyx block. The floor was rougher than usual, the walls were cracked... and deep inside the hall. It was as empty as always however. Just a quiet, dark room. That one quiet and dark room he repeat enough times that others shouldn't make noise into. He sighed... being the only own allowed to make any noise there, it was all perfectly fine. The 'room' however, was as vast as it always was, maybe slightly smaller, but nothing that he cared. He favored place was still as he was, then again, anywhere quiet within the room was his favored place.

He spent sometime in the room, wandering until its ends, and back until he was out of the hall. This time he had a purpose to be there. He was known for avoiding the politics of Charybdis often enough, only coming at times to note that if someone wished to harm Acruan they should think twice, or more, before taking action. While that made him lose some lands for mostly fighting alone, he also got to be known as one who didn't start wars.

At least, that was how he was known until the god of a forest by his kingdom came into his hall asking for help against some other god to the east of him. Acruan was larger at the time, stretching until beyond its eastern mountains. The goddess had chosen, the wrong moment, place and person to ask for help however. Not only he did not help her, but the whole forest was cursed with what was called The Curse of Eternal Silence. No birds sang, animals grew confused... and her fledgling nation was destroyed not soon after.

He walked to the central room. Not truly surprised to see that there were already others there. That Goddess of Fortune... of the most perfectly brief conversations, and that young god of the east. While his nation truly had little to do with the nation of sands and gold far to the southeast of his own, Acruan was not too far from Horus. If Acruan was still as big as it once was, they may even have their own conflicts... but it was far smaller nowadays. "I see that, there others here already. My most sincere greetings, to the two of you." And yes, they were sincere however pained he was for having to say them.

---

Acruan was as it always was. Warriors still had their fancy competitions to see who was the better at using a sword. Merchants still sold their wares in markets while pondering trade with foreigners. Scholars were still had their eyes upon books and scrolls. And the people still went on through their daily lives. Nothing had changed. Nothing ever changes in Acruan, is what the old saying was. It was because even with the loss of half a country once upon the time, people weeped... but then lived on. Holding no grudges was something any exemplary Acruani tried to do, especially those of the current Ruling House and the Council members.

From time to time, however, any Acruani from the Capital who went to the eastern mountains would ask themselves, 'will this be ours in my lifetime?' But then they would look to the west as always. It wasn't the right time yet. It is never the right time.

The People of Amypras

A wind blew through the great plains of Amypras, and whistles through a ruins of a castle older than most of the kingdoms today. Brought low by the weight of time as it was, there was still shelter within the great husk for those who knew how to find it. And there, sat half a dozen men, in black cloaks that covered them whole, and bows that, while plain, struck an imposing figure for anyone who looked. They were here, stationed in the ruins of a border fort, because the Foresight had told them the borders would soon become alive with activity, and they could not allow strangers to wander in their lands unbidden and unchecked.

Every man, every Reaver with this power of Foresight, knew that their God was bored, depressingly so. For they had but a fragment of her power and could see what would happen before it did. As such they did not talk, as everyone of them had seen the conversation in it's entirety, and rehashing what had already happened would be a wasted effort. To have such a power as their God's, who could strech years in the fore-knowing, must have made life dank, dull, and not worth living. The only upside is that she was practically impossible to trick, or caught unaware. And that, was a poor consoltation indeed.