---

---

As Drakairós continues feasting on their kill, the rain beating softly down their scaly backs, they initially failed to realize someone watching them nearby. After all, for being virtually the apex predator of the region, standing at a staggering 20 meters tall currently, they had little competition to fear. Any nearby wolves or bears who dare to get close would be simply too intimidated to even bother continuing forward. Even a large mega-lizard wouldn't nearly be of any match against the God of Weather. They would all have to wait till the dragon finishes before they can pick off the scraps that he left behind.

Yet no more than perhaps a minute in, they would suddenly be interrupted by a familiar voice coursing through their minds. Drakairós' spiked heads jerked up suddenly with a gurgling snarl to see who had dared to interrupt their meal, only to find that it was none other than the God they've just spoken prior to feasting.

"Well, if it isn't the Hunting God himself." Rós coarsely replied with a mildly surprised tone "Fancy seeing you here."

The middle head would also rise to speak next.

"Salutations Naswaru." the most polite head responded in a calm, yet deep thundering voice, "We simply decided in grabbing something different for lunch today. After all~"

Suddenly Kai would interrupt with a loud roar of disapproval.

"WE'RE SICK OF THOSE BLUBBERY BALEEN BALLOONS!" Kai bellows loudly as chunks of meat splatter across his toothy maw, "WE NEED VARIETY!"

"Enough." the middle head coaxed as he managed to calm his chaotic head significantly before looking back at the other God, "Eating solely Sky Whales for an entire week can definitely change one's appetite drastically. Why Kai is already feeling sick of them already."

Lucky for them, Naswaru would then point them in the direction of their next meal. He noted that a huge swarm of Rognyak were overrunning the entire forest and that no more than 600 are to be slain in order to balance out their population. This was already a very tempting offer for the God Of Weather. Their thick muscular hides and rich-tasting hearty ribs are a delicacy in this part of the realm. If cooked medium-rare, the ribs would be chewy yet savory. And if they were deep-roasted and placed into a stew, the meat can simply peel right off the bones, their tasty unquestionably fit for an ever hungry god. Blubber can only get someone so far, so loaded in mere fat and oils, but Rognyak meat has much more of this solid substance. Substance that Drakairós desires on his trips to manage the weather. All three heads looked at one another for a brief second before universally smiling in agreement and cackling in utter anticipation.

"FINALLY! ACTUAL SUBSTANCE!" roars Kai in a giddy fashion.

"It's surely better than eating only whale blubber all the time" chuckles Rós nasally as he licks his toothy chops with his forked tongue, "Count me present."

"Very well." Dra announces confidently as they reveal their massive golden wings, "We accept this task wholeheartedly. Show the us the way, God of the Hunt."

The Huntsman God gladly showed them the way, although not without commenting on their still sloppy, but already better, dexterity. Dra would take the criticism lightly with a deep chuckle, although it couldn't be said for the other two, who both grunted with indifference. Leaving the condor's carcass, Drakairós lifted themselves into the air with a mighty flap of their wings, following Naswaru towards their next meal. The native animals may finally feast on as much as they can before the Weather God can return to save the leftovers.

Great flames were lighting up the forest around the tiny shack in the middle of quite literally nowhere. The leader of the raiders, Fir, had it on good authority that a shaman lived here. His source, Esif, stood next to him. “Come out!” Fir yelled towards the shack, as his men holding torches surrounded the shack. Soon the darkness had to flee into the trees their long shadows. But the Shaman did not come out.

“He could be…preparing a spell.” Esif noted, a little afraid. She may have become one of the raiders, but she hadn’t felt like one of them yet. Still, despite her inexperience, Fir took note of her comment and gave a nod to one of the Hands. Who moved quickly towards the door with an axe in hand. He tried to kick the door open, but the latch held.

From within the old shaman warned: “Begone foul demons! I have peered in your hearts! The god of fire slumbers! He is powerless to help you! Begone! Begone and I may forgive you. If you do not, a cursed existence awaits you all!”

Fir just scoffed at the remarks. As if the shaman had no idea what he was talking about. Fir raised his hand for all his raiders to see. Then clenched it. With bundles of wood and twigs, they stormed the walls. Soon the shack looked more like a massive bonfire was being prepared. Though the door was left exposed. The tinder caught flame from the torches, which in turn ignited the wood. Great flames began to lick against the walls as smoke crawled through them. The flames grew higher and Esif saw how the smoke rose from the roof. Soon a coughing old man fell out of his house with only a staff in one hand. None of the Hands wasted a minute before throwing hooks at him and pulling him closer to them. In the act he lost his elegantly carved staff. Though a Hand was quick to pick it up.

“You fools! Do you not know who I am! A thousand curses upon you! May your spawn never see the light of day.” The old shaman tried to spat towards the raider’s leader. It barely reached his feet. He was less than impressed. He just moved his brazier-staff to his other hand. Revealing the woman standing next to him. “Esif!” the old shaman exclaimed. “Little girl.. what are you doing with these…” but then he noticed the torch in her hand. “No… you wouldn’t.”

The Hands let the man fall down to his knees. Fir opened his mouth, ready to speak. But it was Esif who spoke: “Yes. I have.” She took a step forward and passed Fir. She now stood before the old shaman. She could see the confusion and that one burning question: why? What could she possibly offer as an answer? She tried to be strong. But now that she was confronted with the question, she could barely answer it. Fir put a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to answer to him.” He said as he stepped forward once more. He then turned to the shaman. “You do. Magic. I know you possess it. I know you revere the goddess. Hand over everything you know and your death will be swift.”

The shaman just laughed like a maniac. Which just made the raid leader let out a weary sigh. He reached out with an opened hand and caught the thrown shaman staff in it. With it, he lifted the chin of the Shaman. “You will regret not telling me.” Then the man was dragged back to his house. The wood was burning fiercely against the walls. It wouldn’t take much more until the whole thing was set ablaze. When the shaman realized what was going to happen, he tried to plant his legs into the dirt. Another Hand walked up to him and broke his leg with one fell sweep of his hammer. Fir gave the stolen staff to Esif and turned around to see how the shaman was locked inside his own house. “Oh Ragnagedon! God of Fire! Accept this sacrifice! A worshipper of your false sister! See that not even magic stands against your followers!” he preached, then turned to his followers. “We move north!”

“What’s up north?” asked Esif.

Fir just smiled at her: “Gods.”

---

Ystra, the strange word kept echoing through her mind. It was the only word she could form. Everything else, every thought she had, was just images and primal needs. She felt a need to eat, to hunt, to kill. Constantly. Ystra was the most developed though she ever had and now she took it as what she was. Ystra. The Verzakian Dragon had fled her homeland. Some chose to stay. Perfectly happy to be nourished by the fire god’s essence in his own realm. While constantly running the risk of being discovered and killed by their creator. Most siblings chose to flee. But as soon as they had passed the desert, the very sight of the others enraged her. They seemed to feel the same way. A fight broke out in the skies of the pass leading into the forest. Most Verzakians’ left it behind them. Others met their untimely demise there. But as they reached a strange jungle, they felt a strong, warding power. Something akin to their own lord yet very, very different. None of the dragons dared to enter the jungle. Instead, they spread west and east. Some tried to go further north. Not Ystra, she had made her lair in the mountains east.

Further north there was a lake and a forest, her favorite hunting ground. She was roaming it now. Killing boars and deer. For now she knew a measure of peace, at least the most amount of peace any Verzakian Dragon could feel, as she slowly ate the bloody flesh. But her meal was soon to be disturbed by a stick flying out of one of the bushes. The wooden javelin just cracked upon her scaled skin. But it didn’t go unnoticed. Ystra turned towards the bush and spewed a jet of flame into it. From the flaming foliage, a man ran entirely engulfed in fire. His screams of pain sounded like the most beautiful song Ystra had ever heard. Other humans jumped out of their hiding spots. Some tried to attack her, others ran. Ystra was surprised. What were these things doing? Some tried to hit her with stone weapons. She felt that, but it only enraged her. One she ate whole. His flesh tasted sweeter than the youngest fawn the dragon had ever eaten. These things were so appetizing! And they were throwing themselves so readily at her. With a swipe she send one of the hairless apes flying through the air. Until he hit a tree with an audible snap. Others ran or tried to throw more sticks at her. One nearly hit her in the eye. That enraged her. More fire was blown around, more backs were rend open. Blood poured and trees burned around her. But the fire didn’t bother her. She was born from molten rock. Soon the human hunters ran for their lives. With Ystra close behind them. Uprooting trees and crushing all manner of bushes under her. And behind her the ravenous flames of Ragnagedon raged.

A terrible hunger drove her through the forest. Leaving a trail of destruction behind her. The essence inside her, that was normally so painful, was now making her feel strong. The hunters left the woods and ran into a meadow. A bit further she saw the source of her food. A camp, two rows of tents around a single fire. Inside it were numerous people. The whole sight excited her. She unfurled her wings and took the air. The hunters she passed below her didn’t matter anymore.

The people around the tent didn’t know what they saw. A black dot in the sky was approaching, while their hunters came running for the village. What was chasing them? Then, a loud roar traveled over the meadow. It answered everyone’s question. People began to scream and cry as Ystra approached. Women took their children, men their spears. Groups tried to run but the dragon was upon them. With her breathe she burned the grass and ground before them. Walls of fire blocked their escape. Pillars of smoke began to rise up as javelins were thrown up into the air. Chaos and fearful screams reigned. The meadow became thick with smoke. From within it, one could barely see anything. Other than large blasts of fire through the thick smog.

For the humans below her, the world was set ablaze. The black air killed some. But Ystra, burning and swooping down killed more. She drove her prey closer and closer together. The warriors foolishly believed they could stand a chance that way. It did not matter, Ystra flew down through the thick smoke. Once close to the ground she flew through the fire as if it was nothing, finally landing in the middle of it and right before the last group of people. The warriors stood firm. But the mothers and children within were crying. Out of all the commotion, Ystra could hear one word pounding in her skull. “Hayim.” They kept repeating. Ystra couldn’t understand human speech but Hayim she did understand. It hurt her skull and fed her painful flame. It had to stop. Ystra finally charged for the group, fully intend to finish the painful clamoring.

When the dragon was done a large column of smoke rose up towards the sky. Ystra took towards the skies once again. In the distance, she saw another pillar, and then another. It looked like her siblings had found their feasts as well.

The afternoon sun shone at a coastal village. Small fishing boats have scattered along the nearby waters, with their nets spread wide along the seabed, some of the boats rowed back to the beaches with a good catch for the day. The cliffside tents have blended well against the tint of the hilly rocks.

Ral sat along the hillside campfire, his plain cloak fluttering against the sea breeze. The last visitor is from this village, as far as he remembered. The Truth Seeking Rod, the only artefact that he marked as his own, has unspoken functions that is for of his own purposes. The three visitors over the past few centuries, have came over his domain with small boats.

Over the campfire are a bunch of people, humans that are acting as leaders of a tribe. A group of five of what they call the Village Elders. It would be confusing to see on which held the real say over the village. An oncoming invasion from the enemy tribes, and their plans on fleeing.

"Escape? I disagree with that," Ral threw a fish bone to one side, "Flee the high seas, and there'll be a day where enemies will learn to cross these waters. Take flight like those birds, and they'll find a way to shoot you down with javelins. And the worst thing of all, you'll lose the things you treasure bit by bit, till the tides of the world sweep you away."

"Fight, and you carve the fate of your clan by your grasp of the spears." Ral stood up, breathing out a few curses as he swept the sand away his robes, "And can you please put away that stupid rod? Its hard to twist words around that thing I borrowed you, but I mean what I said, you've my word for that."

"Oh, I almost forgot, Ragnagedon have awoken. The place where the Truth-Seeking Rod points towards, might help you in the long run." The God of Treasures then vanished without a trace, back to his island of treasures.

Calak grumbled, the large man stood guard over a trio of men, who were all bound to three posts in the ground at the edge of the small village. His stone spear in hand, Calak wore light deerskin, adorned with a few bone pieces which had seen much better days. His long brown hair was tied in tribal custom, but his beard was unkempt. He had a very annoyed expression on his face. One of the Raving, Ditar, was lashing out again, which in turn was causing the other two to act out. All three were filthy, with dried blood staining what little of deerskin covered their own skin. Cuts and bruises also littered their bodies, their very flesh was hot to the touch. They had a sickness that knew no cure.

It had been two days since they were finally caught, Calak had been in the hunting party. The Elder, Rantuki, told him what must be done. Calak was to watch them while the tribe decided punishment. The man had agreed, but after the first day he had strong doubts.

Such men were dead inside, but Calak was told to pity them, but only Calak had to watch them. Calak did not pity them, he hated them. They were Raving, they lost themselves, no longer human. Crimes against tribe, against brothers! It was wrong! His mind filled with rage at the thought of guarding them till night, under constant berating. Something snapped inside Calak, the large man had had enough.

With a snarl, Calak hit Ditar with the butt of his spear across his head, sending the man into unconsciousness. A small trickle of blood flowed from the wound. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but the other two would still not calm. As Ditar passed out, Cirit began to bite the rope holding his hands, while Molu laughed viciously.

“STOP!” He screamed, readying to hit them both.

“Cirit! Molu! Remember yourselves! No more madness!” he pleaded, but they would not stop. It was a silent confirmation in his mind.

And then the rage came again. Like a fire coming to life, Calak thrust his spear into Cirit, right through his heart. The man flayed before stilling. No more deciding, that was punishment! Molu laughed even harder, his voice beginning to break. Calak silenced him through the throat, the smile of Molu now reflecting upon his own face. His heart was racing, pumping an intense euphoria throughout his body. He then fell upon Ditar, laughing as he punched his face into a bloody mess.

The Curse had won.

Gammaton

---

@Rune_Alchemist

"The honorable Iva'Krorh sends me their pet," Gammaton thought to himself.

His avatar, Lavtannoth, points to the child, and asks in a feeble voice, "Her, that child, who is she? I have seen her...in my dream..." He motions to Lahzria, "Come, child, sit beside me and partake of this delicacy that I have brought from afar." No matter how much she tried to cover it, Lavtannoth could see the symbol on her hand. She obviously belonged to Iva'Krorh, though whether that was known to the rest of the tribe was questionable, and Gammaton was not about to blow Iva'Krorh's cover unnecessarily. After all, if this tribe was Iva'Krorh's experiment, it would be rude to tamper with it.

From the chatter among the people, Gammoton found out that they would make their pilgrimage to the wall in a week, and Gammaton had plenty of other urgent business to take care. The people were saying that they would gladly take him along with them, but Gammaton couldn't wait that long. He hoped this child could take him to their creator sooner than that. There was so much to discuss, so many plans to put in place, propositions to propose, and new laws to ratify. There was also the matter of the joint creation, but Gammaton would entertain such thoughts in more depth once he had an audience with his sibling.

---

"Open it."

Azhriel commanded, as he slouched nonchalantly upon his throne. A common habit of his despite being Lord of the Underworld. He was referring to the large spiritual cage situated some twenty meters from the steps of his divine seat. It was currently host to the powerful Soul of a Verzakian Dragon who, until now, had never been seen before across the land.

This one was dead, however. Victim to its' own primal urges to destroy anything and everything it lays it eyes on. Unfortunately, the first and last thing it bore witness to was its' very own creator, the God of Fire; Ragnagedon. The battle that raged between them had caught the attention of Azhriel's most trusted disciple, Lyssa The Gracious, and at his order the remaining essence of this divine creature was brought before the God of Souls.

Lyssa wasn't the only disciple in attendance, the remaining two members of the Ashen Guard, Gibari The Rook and Xander The Silent, had joined them to watch over the ceremonial inauguration of the fourth member. Despite all three of them standing guard, Lyssa still hesitated to respond to her Master's order. The Lord of the Underworld had never tamed a dragon's Soul before, nor had he tamed the divine creation of another God. She could feel her anxiety welling up inside, especially given that this was one of the Destroyer's minions.

Azhriel remained unfazed as the cage opened, granting the dragon freedom. It took a moment to proceed forward, scanning area for any signs of its' former master. The Judge could sense its' fear. Once it had been determined that the Fire God was not around, the beast changed dramatically. Bursting from the confines of the spirit cage with a roar, unfurling its' wings to their full length and bearing its' chest as a challenge. At this, Azhriel finally rose to his feet.

Noticing the challenger before it, the dragon instantly became hostile directing a snarl towards its' opponent as it began to circle. Azhriel remained calm, however, and casually walked down each step of his throne until he reached the canyon floor. Off to the side, Lyssa clenched her fists ready to jump in at a moment's notice. She glanced towards the others, they too looked ready to do the same.

Without notice, the dragon flew into action launching itself forward using its' powerful hind legs to propel it towards its' seemingly defenseless target. As it travelled the distance, an ethereal flame started to build in its' throat preparing to roast Azhriel to death. But it wasn't to be.

"Kneel."

As the singular word passed his lips, the weight of the entire world seemed to fall upon every Soul in the vicinity. A force far more powerful than gravity slammed the dragon to the ground, mid-flight. A deafening boom echoed out across the canyon as the ground shook from the impact. The beast was taken completely by surprise, who failed to recognize what had happened initially before attempting to struggle to its' feet.

Lyssa and the others had been forced to obey too. Both Gibari and Xander were left bowing on both their hands and knees, whilst she had only been reduced to a single knee. As she continued to watch the events of the inauguration unfold, she was almost horrified to see the dragon beginning to stand back up. Disbelief filled her face but Azhriel simply took a single step forward.

"I said, kneel!"

As he raised his voice the force instantly grew much heavier, slamming the dragon down once again. Lyssa had sunken to her hands and knees this time, whilst Gibari and Xander were almost fully prostrated. The beast made a feeble attempt to resist once more but the Judge merely placed a foot on its' head to prevent it.

"I am Azhriel." He spoke. "Lord of the Underworld and God of all Souls. You answer to me now."

The dragon seemed to writhe in pain with each word, a gutteral scream tearing from its' throat. Which is when Azh noticed it, Ragnagedon's essence still remained within the dragon even after death.

"This won't do." He murmured to himself.

Azhriel removed his foot in order to reach down to grasp at the dragon's heavily-toothed maw. Wrenching it open, he shoved his free arm down the lizard's throat. The beast attempted to flail in agony, accompanied by choked cries of pain, until finally the God of Souls ripped his arm out. The dragon recoiled as far back as it could, screeching with anguish, though it was still unable to move very far.

Held firmly in his grip, the Lord of the Underworld, examined a glowing, red sac of essence, Ragnagedon's essence to be exact. It must have been what was driving the beast to destroy, yet it also seemed to be the source of the dragon's ability to breathe fire. Azhriel regarded it with disgust before tossing it over towards Lyssa.

"Get rid of it." He demanded, though she was still unable to move.

Looking down at the Soul of the dragon he'd just tamed, Azhriel came to the conclusion that he had no need for a beast to serve him. Instead he would grant this Soul a new form, a human form. Directing his emerald energy towards the lizard, Azhriel began to envelope it completely. More hoarse roars could be heard coming from the beast until eventually, roars turned to screams. The screams of a man. Half-Human, Half-Dragon to be precise. He remained face-down on the ground, fully naked and panting heavily from the entire ordeal. Several scars covered his dark-scaled, sweat-soaked skin.

"Rise before me and serve your new God." Azhriel stated. "From this day forth, you shall be known as Thaddeus, The Betrayer."

@Dealdric
Location:
Cy'Lathak, Library of Eternity

---

The creature, Zhavitri seemed to prop itself up, taking offense to being called slimy but couldn't voice any thought other than opening its dozen or so eyes and merely glare at her. It seemed like it was pouting. A few bubbles were all it could voice, but It merely contented itself with sitting on the table, taking in the sights of its new surroundings instead of poking the hornets nest.

"Hee! A pretty little birdie you are indeed!" Iva replied in response to Dirka's words, walking through the dimly lit, magnificent hall of the library at a leisurely pace. "Such a pretty thing...if you were a flower, I'd pluck you and put you in a garden!" A laugh as they passed a few half empty bookshelves. The library was in a pretty sad state right now, wasn't it? Oh, certainly the construction was grand, the architecture a marvel, and bookshelves for years, but they were so woefully empty! Ah, it made his little god heart tremble in despair! "...I could show you how I do it!" Iva chuckled. "We are gods. We can do whatever we wish - we just have to will it so!" That aside though, a present for his sister dearest. Soon enough, Iva led Dirka to a room that seemed to be a workshop of sorts. It was rather...macabre. Several carcasses of beasts were sitting on the floor, long dead and stripped of organs and internal body parts. Iva likely had used their parts for an experiment or something. In the middle of the room however, was a contraption of sorts made from bone.

It was about half as tall as a normal human, likely made out of the bones of the animals in the room. It was a weird triangle shape, with one side being made of some animals spine. Interwoven between them were strings pulled taught, running down the empty spaces at either of the triangle.

"Go on, give one of the strings a pluck! It makes a most delightful sound."



Location:
White Dawn
@Stern Algorithm

---

"What?" Surprised, the Kadisht Gammaton was currently conversing with looked over to Lahzira. Seemingly considering something for a moment, the dark haired male sighed, motioning her over. "I can not fathom why you want to speak with that one. She has lost Lord Iva's favor - but very well. You have given us quite the treat, traveler and is our custom to trade such. Lahzira, the traveler wishes to speak with you. Try not to let your childishness get the better of you." The human, Lahzira seemed hesitant, but soon enough walked over. The Kadisht left soon after, frowning in deep thought. She felt a chill go down her spine - why where they being so cold to her?

"...uhm, yes, hi?" She said uncertainly. She wasn't really in the mood to meet a stranger. It was odd anyways. For someone supposedly so far away wasn't it weird they could understand him? Well, she couldn't really refuse and not seem suspicious at this point. She would take a treat from Gammaton, immediately brightening as soon as the sweet substance touched her tongue. "Ah! What is this! This is delicious! Haha, oh wow this makes this entire day worth it almost." She grinned, laughing lightly before realizing she was probably being rude.

"Oh...uh, sorry? You wanted to speak with me? I don't know why...seems like the Kadisht and the hunters don't like me today." She replied quietly, rubbing the back of her hand. "Today's been really weird for me, but whatever this is has made it so much better, heh!"

@Rune_Alchemist@Stern Algorithm

Dirka looked at it curiously. She got close, and with much drama, plucked one string. A beautiful note echoed. She jumped up with a smile in surprise. She plucked it again. Another note, this time deeper in pitch. She clapped giddily, then rushed her sibling into a bear hug, with enough force to break a human in half. "Thank you! Thank you my mad brother! Only one as ingenius as you could make something that makes tunes only a vocal could create! You truly are everyone's favorite playmate!" She then let him go in remembrance. "I almost forgot! I brought you something as well! Something that would surely catch your mind's will!" From her robes she produced a seed. She placed it were the harp was sitting then began to sing while playing the harp.


In the seeds place grew a white flower with a gray aura. When the last note was done, she went to it and scooped it up. She shushed and cooed it like she would one of her wisps, and offered it to Iva. "So everyone knows the beauty in simplicity. For learning is simple, in all authenticity!" Then she cocked her head, and after a moment she frowned. "It seems the long exoskeletal arm of the law is at your door. I hope it eventually falls on the floor."

Calli hummed as she sowed, a tune passed down from mother to daughter. She worked carefully, rhythmically, as she sowed deerskin into moccasins. A process also taught by her mother, and to her sisters. She sat outside her family’s small lodge, taking in the fresh air as her small village went about their days. Children ran about playing hunter and prey, elders sat about in groups smoking from their bone pipes, while most of the older girls and the women were busying themselves with work. Some men idled about with spears in hand, but most were out fishing and hunting and doing whatever men did. By the time the Light was setting, meaning nightfall fast approached, Calli was finished with her moccasins and it was time for dinner to begin preparation.

She wandered back inside, her mother teaching her younger sisters the art of beadmaking, with bone, rocks, and anything else shiny. Maya and her mother sat facing Calli, while Rowa and Seri faced away. Maya was the youngest of the trio, being born only five winters ago. Rowa came next having been born nine winters ago, and Seri was only a year younger then herself.

“Calli! Calli! Look, look!” Came Maya’s excited voice as she held up a small pink shell with a hole in it. Her sister’s large smile was infectious as she beamed with joy. “Isn’t it pretty, systir? Elder Dareeri says it came from Akhuz!”
Rowa and Seri began to laugh.

“If that came from Akhuz,” Seri began, “Then this pebble came from Voctao!” Which then prompted Seri and Rowa to laugh again. Maya was visibly upset at the accusation, the small girl breamed with anger and a shouting match commenced at the table, but her mothyr quickly put an end to it.

“Seri! Rowa! Enough. Apologize to your sister, now. Elder Dareeri is seldom wrong.”

As Calli walked over to examine the shell further, Seri and Rowa begrudgingly apologized to Maya. Calli then took the shell, holding it gently in her grasp. After a moment she exclaimed, “Akhuz! Yes, I think so! I bet Hayim himself wanted you to have this Maya.” As she handed the small shell back to Maya, the little girl’s face was again beaming with joy. Calli also noticed her mother smiling softly as she worked on her own shell.

Her mothyr was a kind-hearted soul, doing whatever it took to keep her children healthy and happy. Little lies such as this were just one of the things she did for Calli’s younger siblings, and who really knew, maybe the shell had come from Akhuz. Elder Dareeri had said strange things were out there.

“Calli,” Came her mother, “It’s time to start supper.”

“I know mothyr, I know.”

---

Her family feasted that night, her papa and brothyrs had hunted down a great elk, and because the animal was so large, they would have a head start for the colder season and plenty to spare for friends and other relatives. Her papa was particularly boastful that night around the fire, talking and talking as he always did. A lot of what he said was not true, but a great chorus of laughter told a different story. Her brothyrs, Notolak and Farur were quite quick to chime in and tell what really happened.

As their bellies were full, and the fire dimmed down- Elder Dareeri came by with news. She was an older woman, her hear was grey and she kept a walking staff carved with many symbols. Her words always carried weight, and everyone would grow quiet to listen.

“Borau, great luck I hear you had. A great elk, sent by Naswaru perhaps? You should thank the God of the Hunt, he works in strange ways.”
“We have Elder, we only took what we could carry, and gave back what we could not.” Came her father’s voice.

“Good Borau, good.” Dareeri said while taking a seat in between in brothers, “A runner came up from the south around midday, telling us grave news. The tremor that was felt a fortnight ago, came from the endless sand. Fire erupts from the sky of the great spire, he said, a bad omen.” Dareeri sighed, before continuing, “The Teradu Tribe faced great tragedy these last few days, a few of their own went Raving and… well, they may need help when the biting winds come.” At this, the group started breaking into hushed whispers and talk as Dareeri stared into the fire. Calli noticed she had avoided saying what really happened, probably not to frighten the young ones, but the adults would know. As she matured, she could see what was really going on in the world and wanted nothing more then the ignorance of youth. Her brothyr’s voices brought her back to the fire, they seemed to be in a heated discussion.

“The Raving will be the end of us all if we are not careful. We have our own worries here!” Said Notolak.

“Perhaps if they did not seek so much land this would not have happ-“ Started Farur but was interrupted by Borau.

“Enough of this talk, Farur, Notolak. We will help all those in need, it is what Hayim would want us to do.” Calli watched as they bowed their heads to his words, growing silent without protest. As it should be.

“Now,” said Borau in a more light-hearted voice, “Let us pass around the berry tart, I could use something sweet!”

---

As the twinkling lights shone brightly overhead, and the mirth of the fire settled to coals, Calli was left alone with her brothyrs. Elder Dareeri, her papa, mothyr, and systirs long ago retiring. The night air was cool upon her face, a fur blanket covered herself from the chill. She stared into the coals, while her brothers chatted quietly to themselves. She was cozy, and her eyes felt so heavy. She yawned, perhaps a quick nap was in order.

Then the screaming started.

Calli jolted awake at the blood curdling sounds, her brothyrs were already on their feet, with spears in hand. The screaming was coming deeper in the small village, and then came something else, something far more terrifying.

It sounded like a scream, only higher pitched and deafening. It belonged to no tribesman.

It instantly drove an arrow of fear into her heart, so profound and horrible she could only sit there and cover her ears. Hoping it would stop, no… Pleading it would stop! Such fear was far too crippling. Then it was over, and the world around her erupted into a frenzy as men shouted, women were yelling, and children were crying. Her papa ran out of the house with spear in hand, barking orders at his sons to get their mothyr and systirs and run.

Calli was crying uncontrollably when her papa reached her, giving her an embrace before pulling away to look at her.

“Calli! Calli, listen to me! Listen! Papa loves you. You are safe! Now go with your brothyrs! Keep your systirs safe! Go!” Calli could see on his face how much it pained him to say that, but her own voice faltered, and she said nothing as her Father ran into the village. She would never see him again.

It was Notolak that grabbed her hand, pulling her to follow. He said something but Calli failed to listen as a white demon appeared before her, appearing out of nowhere. Something erupted from it’s face, a sickening gurgle followed as her brother’s hand went limp. If she had turned to look, she would see Notolak had been punctured through the throat, but Calli could not remove her gaze from the demon before her.

A sudden spear hit the creature in the chest, startling Calli. Farur was screaming at her to run as he tackled the Demon into the coals. She dared not stay any longer and ran, as fast as she could with tears streaming down her face. Her Mothyr and Systirs had just left the Lodge, thank Hayim. She screamed at them to run, and grabbed Maya as she caught up to them, then buried her sister’s face into her right shoulder.

The girls ran, their swift feet carrying them into the dark forest as the screams began to fade. The only sound was their breathing, and Maya’s shrill cries.

When they at last stopped for breath in a small clearing, their bodies were exhausted. Calli’s heart was pounding in her head and her mothyr looked like she was going to faint. All of them then embraced one another, regardless of how tired they were, it was at times like this that comfort was needed.

“W-what w-was t-that?” asked a shaking Seri.

“I do not know little one, but we need to go.” Came her Mothyrs voice.

“B-But what about Papa, Farur, and N-Notolak.” Rowa cried softly. Whether or not she had seen what befell their brothers, Calli did not know, but she hoped Rowa would be spared the burden of having to watch them die.

“There is no time, my cub. We need to g-“ But her voice was caught off as a demon entered the clearing in front of them. It’s pale body the only defining trait in the darkness, as it watched them. Calli’s eyes went wide and she shouted to run, but upon turning around, she saw their exit was cut off by three more.

The girls screamed again, frantically holding onto her, while her mothyr fell to her knees. Calli clutched Maya harder, feeling the small girl sobbing. This was a nightmare, something the Elder’s told children to frighten them. Stories, only stories. It couldn’t be real… yet…

“No! No no no…” came her mothyr’s crying, “Don’t kill them! Please. Please! I beg you, please!”

Yet the demons made no sound as they began to walk towards them, no words of agreement, only the eerie silence that flew from them. Her legs buckled, she knew what would come next. As a long pale claw reached towards her, Calli shut her eyes, turning her body away to protect her small sister from the demon. Calli cried silently as she thought of her family, before embracing the end.

Naswaru, The Relentless

The flight to the plains was a bit quicker than he anticipated. Naswaru had a feeling his brother had a hand in that. Changing air currents at a whim must be nice. The god of the hunt is very much aware that he is not the most powerful of the gods. However, Naswaru is a firm believer that he has plenty of room to grow assuming he can absorb a few other gods and their cords. Yet even then such an act is looked down upon by some others and would have to be kept secret or make him look like he was defending himself.

Naswaru had no intention of doing that to his brother here. He quite liked the dragon that was following behind him. That, and he had little use for weather control. These thoughts can be left to another time. The only other god he could think of that would help him in his creations was currently hidden away somewhere. The god of blood liked to hide among the humans. Now on to this hunt of theirs.

The trail of their quarry could be seen from miles away. The mass of herbivores ate and trampled their way through the plains and forests. Leaving nothing but a large dirt path and many piles of droppings. Their droppings were also good fertilizer so what they ate could regrow in time. The swarming brown and tan mass of animals was moving quickly. The animals were being harassed by several packs of ridge backs. Many had already fallen but it still wasn’t enough.

Naswaru seeing this quickly broke to the right and down toward the ground. Flying just above the tall grass quickly approaching a few of the Rognyak from behind. With his two sharp talon feet the god easily picked two of the beasts up by their backs and snapped their spines. He wasn’t hunting to feed, he was hunting to kill. This wasn’t something he was necessarily happy about but it was something that had to be done. Naswaru began circling the horde, forcing them in tight together so that his brother could inflict maximum damage to the mass.

@Lmpkio

Ferron
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The sound of metal against metal echo'ed through the mountains. The towering figure was hammering a giant tungsten gate into the side of the mountain. Once he finished his task, he entered tunnel protected by the gate. It took some time going down the long, meandering tunnel that lead him deeper into the earth until it lead to a large cavernous room dotted by stone buildings. in the center of the cavern was a large metal temple, composed of silver.

Almost all the stone buildings were simple houses, however there was a building devoted to farming moss, and another that served as a forge. There was also a basin filled with clean water that was fed by a nearby aquifer. Once he was satisfied with the village he had constructed he moved into the temple. It was barren except for a single chair composed of platinum. Taking his seat, he then proceeded to channel his divine power into the act of creation.

Figures began to form nothing, and with a word, he spoke them into existence, "Dwarf". The beings were modeled after himself, and thus looked very human-like other than smaller statue standing between four to five feet tall. They are strongly imbued with the essence of metal. Their bones and teeth are composed almost entirely of iron.

After creating the dwarves, the figure collapsed in his chair. He had been drained by his many creations. There he spoke to his children, and told them about the world, and its gods. He told him that they while they were free to worship the other gods, that he will be their protector, and he warned his children about the fickle nature of the divine. He instructed how to farm the moss, and how to work the forge, and the other tasks that were needed to maintain the village. He told them about the core of the earth, and its mystery, and how they will claim it as their own, that it is the rightful claim of Ferron and his children. And then he rested, though even while he was regaining strength, he watched over his children vigilantly.

Gammaton

---

@Rune_Alchemist

"Lost Lord Iva's favor...?" Gammaton thought to himself. "Fools, this child has been elevated by The Honorable One higher than your entire village." For being the Illuminator's tribe, they were surprisingly in the dark, a thought that made Gammaton wonder if they were to be punished by their patron soon. "This, Lahzria, is 'honey'," Lavtannoth said with some gravity, knowing that making the name of the treat known would increase the impact of his offering, "And I seek the wall...of Hlakth, as your tribesmen has told me it is named." He listened to her words and it seemed she was either confused or actively playing games with him. Something had happened to her today, something unusual. Was this a riddle, or could it be that she only met The Honorable One this day? If the latter were true, then this was no messenger, and Gammaton was wasting his time. Still, for her to have the mark meant that regardless, he could still use her to get Iva'Krorh's attention. If anything, Gammaton wondered what was taking Iva'Krorh so long to react. Perhaps she was preoccupied with an experiment in her library. Gammaton quietly plucked a straw from the honey basket and scribbled a design into the snow, looking a round to make sure no one was paying him any attention. "I came seeking the one who gave you this," Lavtannoth whispered to Lahzria, drawing her attention to The White Star's mark that he had drawn in the snow, tapping his hand to indicate hers, and quickly erased the symbol from the snow before it caught anyone's eye. He looked up at her and smiled.

’ Humanity is such a strange creature to me. Their very essence is filled with so many lies that it's hard to tell if they even know what the truth is. Worst of all most humans lack conviction to pursue the fullness of the lie to make it the truth... perhaps it's time I created something new. Something with a spine... or lack thereof’





The Rift had always had a strange sense of home to Iarus. While not within his realm of control, magic always held a strange connection with it and here at its center where it ebbs and flows a sense of peace. The Mad Musician and he had taken on what could be described as a master and apprentice and had even worked together on several occasions which resulted in creations that both gods used. It was nice to pick the brain of useful tips and not face ridicule belittling his intelligence, his last encounter with the White Star had come to mind. The Rift, however, was still as confusing as it's master which did little to help Iarus’ patience as he came with a specific purpose and the Rift was just as twisted as the one who created it.

”Sister!, I require your knowledge and expertise... I have a new project to work on!’

The realm itself seemed to shift and shudder as if the world around him heard and acknowledged his request.



The visit with Kymarat had proven about as successful as he had expected. Armed with the knowledge of his neighbor's movements the Murder King, as he had come to be known, had been quick to move and gain the upper hand. It would be far too late until he realized the truth behind his march and what the Grand Trickster was truly after. Back in his sanctum of the False Mirror Iarus continued work on his true plan, the creation of a race of snake men. These TRUE inheritors of this world will be his greatest creation.



As he gazed upon his creation Iarus couldn't help but take in a sense of pride, but he knew there was more to do to make it so perfect... only a couple more ingredients to go.

@Dealdric
Location:
Cy'Lathak, Library of Eternity

---

"Such a soft little birdie, hee!" Iva giggled loudly as they were promptly bear hugged by Dirka. "I am thrilled you love it. Should you not, I might be angry." It truly was a marvel! He had stumbled upon its creation by accident. Here he had been, cutting apart various animals that he had bought here, simply to dissect and study. Somehow - and void only knows how - a sinew had ended up on one of his horns. Must have been quite the party, hee! Upon attempting to remove it, he pulled it tight and accidentally strummed it. After that, the rest is as they say, history! Quite recent too! Pulling himself from his own thoughts, he focused on Dirka.

"A gift? For me? Aw, you shouldn't have sister! What a curious little seed." His faceless visage studied it curiously. A gift for him? This small thing? Tsk, Dirka better hope it was quite useful! Of course, the gift that graced his ears next was certainly worth it. For the duration of Dirka's song, Iva simply listened, seemingly enraptured until she was done. When done, a single white flower grew from the floor. The grey aura emanating from it caused Iva to giggle.

"Oh my! How beautiful! Your voice is as soothing as ever, hee! A treasure that even our pathetic hot-headed brother would think twice about destroying!" The god took the flower gently. "Ah, this reminds me I need to have Hayim make me a garden! Plants and such need to be cataloged and studied as well. I'm sure he'd love to make me a beautiful field of these, but for now," The god joyfully stuck the flower right between his horns. "I shall wear it upon my crown, hee!" Twirling in place, Iva began walking, leaving the room with a mild sense of seeming purpose. "Keep it! I Have named it a 'Harp'. No idea why, but it feels right and I've already detailed its construction." Dirka was quick to notice Gammaton as well. Ah, she had to wonder if he should let the two of them meet? Would be quite the spectacle.

"Yes yes," Sighing in mild seeming irritation, Iva replied. "it seems little Gammy has decided to find his way here! I can only imagine what he wants." Shifting his moods once more, he laughed. "But don't worry your pretty little voice over it. I have am glad you arrived, sister. I have a request!" Suddenly spinning in place to face Dirka, Iva gave her a light poke on the forehead. "Teach one of my humans magic."

Location:
White Dawn
@Stern Algorithm

---

"Honey?...such a sweet word." She giggled. She didn't know who this stranger was, but she certainly liked him at the moment - at least until he mentioned the wall of Hlakth. Why would anyone be seeking that? Let alone a stranger. Were they seeking the Library? Even more curious was what he followed with. He drew the Emblem of Lord Iva on the snowy ground, before pointing to her hand. She immediately recoiled, swallowing hard.

Haha, of course this couldn't be simple.

"...you're not an ordinary traveler, are you?" She laughed uneasily. "I met Lord Iva'Khror in the forest. He told me not to tell anyone because of what they might do..." The young girl frowned, shaking her head. "I don't know what to do. Everything was fine, yesterday but its like everyone just suddenly decided to be hateful or something." Maybe...maybe though, this could be an opportunity? She was a little tired of always being treated like a child, just because she didn't study well or didn't take well to hunting lessons. She glanced at her hand. It finally stopped itching.

"...I can take you to the wall." She said, standing up. "I've been there before a few times, hah...it's really not as hard as the Kadisht makes it out to be. Quite simple! I've even made a small map! I've been a little scared of going further since I'd get into a lot of trouble, but if everyone's going to be mean to me anyways I might as well. We should go while the hunters are busy finishing skinning their recent hunts."

The swirling aurora twisted as it debated its next steps. He wondered if Azhriel was the right ally to turn to first. The foreboding figure wasn’t one for rash decisions and he doubted the soul guardian would leave his realm for an unsubstantiated whim. No, he needed proof. The rainbow lights shimmed in the sky, a sight that any of these more southern tribes would never see. A shadow disappeared to the east and the light flared briefly as it made a decision, streaking across the horizon in ribbons of silver.

A day later the lithe blonde figure stood for the first time in over 16hours. He’d spent the day observing one of the Verzakian dragons. He followed her, as he learnt it was a she, as she burnt and consumed every animal in her path. He stayed a miasmic aura spread thinly in the atmosphere so as not to be detected. Sveiand was no particular friend of the humans but he was shocked at what happened next. He was buffeted by the unbearable heat as the pillar of smoke rose up to meet him, the rancid stench of burnt flesh.

The study was over. The number of thickening columns dotted around the landscape meant that there was no time to waste and he knew what to do. Sending his sense outwards, he was both surprised and gladdened to find both the deities he needed already in one place. Maybe fate was already working in their favour. They were gods yes but as one of the gods constantly fighting for a worldly balance, he knew they weren’t infallible.

As two sets of leathery bat wings swooped overhead, a gigantic white bear (see ‘The Cold One’ in CS) plummeted from the sky amid the writhing mass of Rognyak. The shockwave rippled through the herd but the magic was faster. Sheets of flawless ice in twisted shapes encased over half of the stampeding beasts. The rest were knocked off their feet and soon leapt upon by the Ridgebacks.
Straightening up, the gigantic bear waved a massive paw at the flying figures before his growling voice boomed toward them. “I’m sorry to interrupt your hunt mighty lords but I do believe I have a better quarry to test your abilities.” A life-size sculpture of a Verzakian dragon erupted from the existing ice. “This is what we need to catch.”

He turned his snout upwards to the powerful god of beasts and the hydra-headed weather god, a knowing smirk playing on his lips, as he dared to hope. "Are you game?"

@Rune_Alchemist@Archangel89

Dirka giggled at her sibling. Then she heard something she'd been expecting for a bit. "I'll gladly teach her. Just send her to rift, so then I don't have to sift! I've got the larvae to my mantis pouncing my ears, so I be were only he hears! To-dools!" And with a snap, poof! She was gone, and so was the harp.

---

Dirka appeared behind her younger brother and apprentice, Iarus. She strung the harp, now floating with her, and wisps circled above. "Yeeesss~? The student asks, but will he receive~? Only my thoughts will need this situation perceived~." she cooed. The wisps made a low humming noise and the plants of the Rift seemed to pulse.

---

Deruga had enough of these mimics. The night had yet to end where he was in the world, and the mimics kept messing with him and his romantic thoughts of there mistress. Two even turned into Dirka and Deruga and started making out, only to break the spell and make a disturbing noise that was supposedly laughter. By the Music, these things will make me loose the last of my marbles before I'm of proper age! Maybe if I ask-no, she'd probably get told by the mimics my obsession even sooner. Why can't magic be easy? A mimic then interrupted his thoughts. "Here, we'll make you a deal. You get us some of our favorite food, we won't tell her." Deruga shot up with a grin. "I'll go get it now!" and started walking, before turning around with a questioning look. "What is your favorite food?" The mimics all grinned evilly. "Amethysts!" they screamed in unison. Deruga sunk down on the ground. "Anu'varr, why do you hate me so much? What in the 53 realms did I do to you?"

Gammaton

---

@Rune_Alchemist

"Was I a little too obvious?" Gammaton thought to himself. Yet as he listened it became apparent that Lahzria had only met The Honorable Iva'Krorh today, and that it was highly likely that her tribe was plotting something against her. yet for this child to meet two gods in one day certainly piqued Gammaton's interest. If Iva'Krorh's ownership of Lahzria was but a passing whim, then Gammaton was seriously considering taking the child for himself. After all, he had no human followers for the time being, having been content with siphoning off of their need to organize and rule themselves, developing laws on their own, and gaining minute amounts of power through that. "We shall do as you say child," Lavtannoth responded, looking around at how busy the rest of the tribe were.

"Here," Lavtannoth said, pushing his basket into the arms of a passing tribeswoman, "As sweet as this already is, it makes a nice complement for savory meals; you can try rubbing it on flesh and roasting it. Share this knowledge with your fellows." That should keep them occupied for a while. Turning back to Lahzria, Lavtannoth asked, "I am not an ordinary traveler. Tell me, what does your tribe know of the other gods?"

Yet, the end did not come.

Instead there was a feeling of cold, then the taste of something she could not describe, and then a sense of dread. She still held Maya in her hands and could feel a body left to her. Calli opened her eyes hesitantly, her first view was of a black floor. She slowly glanced left and much to her relief she saw both Rowa and Seri were beside her, their faces were drained white. Their eyes forcibly shut by their fear. Her mothyr was nowhere to be seen in that chamber. And then… Then Calli looked up.

Before her sat a large throne, it was of skulls and blood and pain. Two long legs touched the floor, but Calli glanced away quickly, trying not to vomit at the sight.

Doing what little she could to calm her nerves, she was compelled to look again.

Her mortal eyes looked, and they saw a cruel beauty sitting on that throne. A voluptuous naked woman, tall as a giant, with a feminine form so perfect Calli felt herself enthralled at the sight. The woman’s grey skin was cut in so many places, it looked like scars that had never regrown. Yet, all the same it was so alluring, like a mystery waiting to be unraveled. Her horns were a crown, regal but imposing and the God’s amber eyes bore so deeply into her soul, Calli felt herself violated without even being touched.

”Open your eyes little ones,” came a whisper from her lips, yet Calli felt it so clearly in her head, she could have sworn the woman was next to her. ”Do not be afraid, you are safe here.” the woman said softly. ”I am Anu’Varr, but you may call me Anu.” And indeed, Calli no longer felt afraid after those words had been uttered.

Calli in turn, felt flustered. Anu’s voice was so exotic, and enchanting but something deep down inside of her was screaming to run. Her mind, however, was having a hard time trying to tell her body what to do. She felt safe, she felt good. Her name sounded so familiar, but the girl couldn’t place it. What had the Elder’s said about a figure named An-

Suddenly, like an arrow, the woman was next to her, but smaller. Calli felt her breath upon her neck, sending chills down her spine, ”Look at me… Dearest Calli.”

Anu’s voice was so intoxicating, how had she not noticed? It was if she was being lulled to sleep by a sweet song yet elating so much longing inside her all the same. Being so close made her heart flutter. She could not resist that lovely voice, and so she turned to meet the gaze of a Goddess. Anu was on her hands and knees, in a seductive pose, so open to the world. Calli could do nothing but blush.

”Mhmm…” The woman started, before reaching out her sleek right hand to caress Calli’s cheek. ”How very pretty.”

The girl felt herself melt at the touch. It was so sensual, so inviting, Calli could no longer think straight. Then a provocative smile erupted from the woman’s tender lips, showing small pointed teeth. But this did not phase Calli in the slightest, she was mesmerized now, glancing between the woman’s lips and her amber eyes.

”Would you like to kiss me?” She asked Calli in a playful voice, almost as if she could read her thoughts.

Calli smiled, nodding, her cheeks were a bright rosy red. She closed her eyes, then leaned in to meet Anu. When their lips touched, Calli’s body exploded in overwhelming ecstasy as Anu took the lead. Her skin felt alive with sensation she had never felt before, she never wanted it to end. Her heart raced like a flowing river, and she surrendered herself so completely, that she failed to notice as Maya slipped away from her grasp. Her systir’s watched with mixed horror as they backed away.

Meanwhile, Anu worked her magic, whispering temptations, sweet nothings, promises of power and pure pleasure into her fragile heart. Calli agreed without thinking, so wrapped around her lover’s kiss. She next felt Anu embrace her, the Goddess pulling Calli closer until their bodies touched and then, Calli felt them falling and falling, spiraling ever down into the abyss of carnal hedonism.

Mankind had been seduced by the Devil.

---

Anu sat upon her throne, now back to her original size. Her plan had worked flawlessly, mankind was so predictable. So easily corrupted and seduced by her form and power. She had rewarded her Flesh demons with telepathy for their part in her plan. They had brought her a great number of humans to work with, to mold and shape. Though she hated what they were, Anu took no greater satisfaction then watching them fall or die. For it was her nature to be the guiding hand of temptation.

Her newest creations were the epitome of pain and pleasure. They were the first of her Greater Devils, the Succubi, and only more would follow. They were no longer human, but still carried the appearance of them, yet heightened beyond what a normal woman could ever achieve. They were unearthly beautiful; their entire bodies crafted to seduce and tempt the weak with promises so sweet no mortal would resist.

Four Succubi sat with Anu on the throne. Calli, the Matriarch, lounged a top the skulls above Anu’s head, humming a sweet melody. Her sisters, Seri, Maya, and Rowa, slept quietly upon Anu’s lap. Maya and Rowa had been transformed greatly after Anu had tempted them, they no longer looked so young and feeble, but now beautiful like their sisters. They were the first, and Anu enjoyed their presence immensely. All of them had become fine lovers in her care, Anu had taught them well. The Goddess had bestowed further great gifts upon them as well, ones only they would keep. All of them would be leaders of succubus-kind, chosen by Anu herself. It would only be a matter of time before more followed, nurtured by the Four.

The sisters were also marked with the seal of Anu, two horns encircling a circle, glowing a soft red upon their flesh. Only chosen Succubi would have it, meaning them to be personal pets of Anu. The Goddess of Devilry would know if harm befell them in any way, and her wrath would be swift. As all things that had fallen, they belonged to her.

Yet, Anu wanted more, so much more. She had need of an army, one of Devils and Demons and all which fell between. Nothing would be safe from her unless under divine protection, and even then, her words were the sweetest nectar, and her powers were wicked. Everything was fallible in a way and would belong to her, in the end.

---

Everything was moving too fast.

The world kept spinning, and people kept being born. Life and death orbited the earth, the sky swirled with swarming clouds. Everything was changing, developing, growing. This was an age of birth and an age of innovation. Even now Sommler could feel it, a fire burning at his heels. He fled through the skies, and he could feel the constellations named. He hid in the dark of the moon, until it too was named. He travelled in the eye of a child, until imagination too was named. All things grew solid, all things grew broken. Like a dead tree, things hardened mere moments before falling apart. Rotting on the inside, defined by the beholder's eye.

Was this his fate? Was this his purpose? To flee and run and hide until he could hide no more. To grow ever weaker and smaller until he was nothing. To shrink away from the light, counting the days until he himself was defined. Hardened. Petrified. Shattered.

Perhaps he was not meant for this world. Perhaps it was in the world before creation that he had been meant to thrive. Was this new form, this new consciousness, a curse? Was he allowed to feel the world even as his place in the world drew to an end?

It wasn't fair, was it? Such an existence, to live in the margin of others' lives. To exist as the shrinking shadow of civilisation. To flinch away from every new truth brought into the world. Was he even a god? Or was his nature something smaller, less significant? What cruel mind could dream such cruel things. So Sommler thought over the years, as mankind grew ever larger and greater. As they learned of fire and they learned of paint. Images formed onto cave walls. Dead stones and sticks reformed into homes. Artificial caves formed from the carcasses of the world. Metal and stone hardened into blades, hammers and spears. Chiefs and shamans and masters and slaves. Light and dark, dream and reality, truth and form. The order of the world.

Hiding in the shadow of a rose bush, Sommler came to know of something rather odd. Fire, but not that of civilisation. Fear, and death, and chaos. A failing of order.

A child stared at the bodies of it's parents. And Sommler could hear the falling stars as the child's world collapsed in on themselves. As the names came without meaning and the feelings lost their hold. As words broke down, blotted out by pain. He could see scales and twisting beasts, a creature defined and bound by no name. A beast of rage and anger and destruction, meaning carved into the world with fire and claw. And Sommler looked upon the dragon and he knew it for it's beauty, for it's strangeness. And he looked upon the village, screaming and dying and fleeing, and he knew it for it's beauty. For it was in the shattering and forming of worlds, in the screaming and the fleeing, that Sommler saw glimpses of the world as it once was. Undefined. Wild. Beautiful.

Was this it? The answer he had hoped for? A world doused in fire and destruction, born anew a millionfold?

But then came the silence. The beast had left nothing alive. Charred remains and charred buildings. And in the silence, all was nothing. For where there was no life, there was no being. Twilight was born from light and darkness. And as surely as the light of knowledge had banished him, so too was there no music to be found in silence. With a sinking feeling Sommler viewed the destroyed village, and he knew that he had lost something dear and precious here. Destruction was a means, but it was not an end. The world as it existed was not in a form hospitable to Sommler. It needed to be changed, but not destroyed. Something must be taken, and something must be given. All things in balance, balance in all things.

With a beat of mighty wings, Sommler launched himself after the dragon. With a thousand arms he caught it. With a thousand mouths he bit into it, tearing into flesh and soul. The dragon roared, but fire and claw could not find it's target. Helplessly the creature beat at the mist, but it knew not what it fought. For it fought the lack of knowing. It fought in silence, for Sommler took it's voice. It fought on the ground, for Sommler took it's wings. And as it struggled and writhed so too did he take it's sight, and sound, and the anger and pain that drove it. It's form like water, liquid in Sommler's hands. It's thoughts like clay, to be formed and set and left. Like a seed to grow, like a hope to forget, like a story to weave.

When the mist receded there was a tree where once there had been a dragon. Anger and pain carved into it's bark, claws and wings and bodies hanging from it's branches. Mindless, sightless, soundless. Forever trapped in the prison of it's own mind, the tree dreamed of the sky that it no longer knew.

And Sommler left, slithering across ashen forests and broken bodies. The earth cracked and tore beneath his feet, and twilight poured forth from the holes. His breath was mist and his eyes shone with darkness. He would bring destruction and creation. He would bring things new and old, and he would shape the world to his whims. He would step forth from the dream, and take the nightmare with him. The time for fleeing was done. The age of fire would come to it's end. Darkness and light would fall.

The age of twilight would commence.

And as he rode forth into the world, Sommler consumed all he came across. Villages and hunters and beasts and others. All would be drawn into the lost lands, where night and day were meaningless. Where time and space flowed like water and the wind echoed with mournful song. He would help them, at last, to find peace in the twilight. And if he needed to, he would drag each of his brethren screaming into this abyss of mist and formless chaos. To return the world to it's state of birth, the shape it into shapelessness.

Ferron
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The Lord of Metal sat within the temple, resting so that he may regain his strength. During which time, he began to contemplate his plans forward. He occupied his mind thinking of solutions to the various needs that he was currently providing with his presence. Most pressing of the concerns was defense, and the reason why he could not immediately proceed to fulfill the other needs of his colony in a permanent manner. To expend more power at this time would open him, and his children, up to attack, however he could rest within the village and provide for his dwarves in more temporary manner.

Among the other needs that he needed more permanent solutions were lightning, clothing, medicine, and lumber. Things that were plentiful on the surface, but much rarer beneath the earth. While he did not trust the other gods to collaborate on defense, he did consider asking the other gods to assist him on these smaller, yet still crucial, points.

While Ferron was lost pondering about how to proceed, the doors to the temple swung open. One of the smaller dwarves, Stag, rushed in panting, "Come, come quickly, Lord Ferron."

Ferron got up from his chair, asking, "What is the matter."

The small dwarf replied, "It is Cob. He is trying to break down the gate."

Ferron sighed, signalling for Stag to follow him, as he walked his way up the tunnel towards the entrance of the village. At the gate, Cob was trying to bring one of the hammers from the forge against the wall with no effect. A group of other dwarves surrounded him, each trying to convince him to stay. Once Ferron arrived, each of the dwarves surrounding him rushed up to him, shouting over each other. The god spoke softly, "Please, be silent for a moment. Now, Cob, what are you attempting to do."

And with that, the other dwarves were silent. Cob lowered his hammer to his side, and turned around, "Trying to escape. I don't wish to spend my entire life trapped within this cave."

Ferron replied, "You are aware that the outside world is dangerous. That I may not be able to protect you from the ferocious beasts or the scheming gods. That you may not find food or water, and perish as a result? That once you cross that threshold, you may become lost and never find your way back? "

Cob paused for a moment, and replied, "Yes, but you can't keep me here forever."

Ferron nodded, and with a simple hand gesture, the village gate opened. The other went to protest, but Ferron merely stated, "That gate is to protect you, not trap you." . Once Cob crossed over to the other side, another simple hand gesture caused the gate to close once again. The god returned to resting within his chair in the temple.