Vestec appeared before Alfid as the Lich was running, tilting his head idly. "What was your name...Alfid? Alfid! I'm terribly sorry Sauranath scared you off like that. We need to talk. In fact, I have a request of you! You wouldn't mind, would you? I could solve your problems in return for you agreeing to my request. It'd be nice, wouldn't it, to be free from Thulemiz and to be free from this curse as an undead Lich."
Standing where he was, on the shores of Sviebard, Alfid was rather shocked when the undoubted presence of the Execrable One made itself known to him. He turned towards it and drew his blade immediately.
'Begone, Execrable Chaos. Your fine words have no power over me,' he hissed, backing away slightly and prepared to disappear into thin air at the slightest threat. He knew it would be rather useless - this was a god, after all - but it did not mean that he would not resist what he could. He had pledged war against the enemies of Man, and the Execrable Chaos was most certainly the greatest of those foes.
Vestec giggled. "Well, this is rude. Wouldn't you agree, Sakimi?" A voice spoke behind Alfid, decidely female and soft. "Yes, Lord Vestec. Quite rude." Behind the undead Outsider was a woman, watching Alfid with a slightly hungry and predatory gaze.
"Forgive me Alfid! I haven't even introduced you! This is Sakimi, Mistress of Shadows, Eldest of the Anju. She's a part of my request." The Chaotic one advanced on Alfid. "Hear me out. I take your powers, and give them to Sakimi. Then I kill you. Agreed? You get freed from Thulemiz and this state of undeath, and Sakimi gets your powers! Accept and I won't even steal your soul."
Beneath his armour, through the glass orb on his chest, Alfid's one eye visibly widened in shock. The Execrable Chaos wanted his powers...he could not allow such a thing to happen. The Silent Six had allowed themselves to be defiled in order to gain these necromantic powers and thus counter-act the puppet of chaos, Thulemiz. It would do their cause, and Man, no good if Alfid's power was seized by the Execrable Chaos. He considered escaping for a few seconds, but knew that such would only be a temporary solution. His only chance was to reason with the Execrable Chaos, unlikely as that seemed. With no other choice, he spoke out.
'You say it is a request and you say you wish to free me, nothing more and nothing less. I thank you for your...kindness, but I must refuse. While I would indeed like nothing more than to be freed of this curse, I believe I am fine as I am,' he looked uncomfortably from the Anju woman to the Execrable Chaos, his fingers tightening around his sword instinctively.
"Oh well. I'll put your soul to good use, I assure you." Vestec was suddenly grasping the Outsider by the throat, hefting Alfid in the air. "First, your powers." The God took Alfid's necromancy powers and gave them to Sakimi, the Anju gasping as she suddenly sensed all the dead around. Alfid squirmed and attempted to free himself from the Execrable Chaos' grip, but it was to no avail. Even his attempts to teleport were nullified by the god's grip, and all Alfid could do was send out one final, mental cry to the one who had gifted him his powers. If Astarte valued her agreements, she would hear his cry. Alfid hoped it would be enough and that the Goddess of Magic, affected as she was by the Execrable Chaos, would intervene on his behalf. Her agreement with the Great Lich Lord had to be worth something...
"Clever. Too little too late though." Vestec commented. Chaotic fire burst into life on Alfid, hungrily consuming the Outsider's body. The God of Chaos held the Outsider as he was destroyed, giggling. Letting the last ashes that remained of Alfid float away into the wind Vestec looked at Sakimi, grabbing Alfid's soul as he did so. "Time for us to leave, don't you agree?"
Sakimi's response was slow as she came to grips with her new senses and powers. "Yes...yes Lord Vestec." With that, the two of them disappeared.
Far off, the Great Lich Lord raised his cloaked head to the skies as Alfid's existence was extinguished. He had seen it with Alfid's own eye and had heard his final plea. While he was not all that saddened by the destruction of the Lich - it just meant he would not have to do it himself eventually - he did wonder if Alfid's final plea to Astarte would offer him a potential loophole if she did not somehow act. Turning away, he watched the little town that was slowly beginning to form. Regardless, he had a job to do.
-Vestec confronts Alfid on the shores of Sviebard and demands his powers and life. The Necromancy powers were be granted to Sakimi, an Anju hero(0 might left for Vestec) In return, the Outsider would live.
-Alfid refused. So Vestec took his powers and killed him, not before Alfid sent a cry for help to Astarte. Sakimi gained The Lich's necromancy powers. Sakimi and Vestec left quickly.
-Thulemiz noted Alfid's death, and is wondering what'll happen next.
Ialu's days in the Star were exceptional. . . even under his curse. . . Ialu was exceptionally pleasured by the sheer force of power in the Star. Sauranath however, looked into the star of Mirtagn. Mirtagn had already given up the ghost without informing Sauranath. Sauranath looked towards the Star. . . it had grown dim. Mirtagn's form dwindled, and the skeleton of Mirtagn coexisted with the dimensional energy that exuded from the star's spirit. "What? Mirtagn? You were not to do this until you were told it was to be so". Sauranath sighed. "This is insane, utterly and despicably wrong. Yet you decided on yourself to do this. Why Mirtagn? What will the life of even the best among all be for the Fate and Invictus? No one has petitioned the great Fate and Invictus before. . . this ceremony may not even work. . . so why? WHY? Mirtagn!" Sauranath could perhaps resurrect Mirtagn, but a petition to Fate and Invictus would surely make this more solid of a sacrifice. He attempted it, of course. . . it failed.
"Great Invictus and Fate, those who are above the Dragon's Stars, I invoke you for petitioning."
Grandmaster Thulemiz, Son of the Celestial Above, Champion of Chaos, Great Lich Lord Level 30 Hero, 37 Khookies
Thulemiz looked upon the body of the bed-ridden Kanros. He was breathing raggedly and his entire body convulsed with spasms from time to time, and the Great Lich Lord could sense the chaos running within him. If it was allowed to run its course, the demigod would rise a very different being from the one that had been felled by the explosion.
Thulemiz's undead and the former-citizens of Orabson had been hard at work, day and night, ever since they had arrived from Arguilla. They had built a make-shift town with wooden walls and a trench around it while the two Ghoul Lords scouted the surrounding area and hunted down any humans unlucky enough to fall between their jaws. Already there were a good thirty more ghouls, and those used their strength to continue building the settlement. It was rather small and not fit for a being of Thulemiz's standard quite yet, but he knew that with time it would grow into something more to his liking, when he turned his attention fully to that.
For now, it was Kanros who was the priority, for the demigod could not be allowed to sink into the hands of chaos. While Thulemiz could not deny that he was indeed an agent of Chaos, he had felt that change rather tremendously since he had become a Lich Lord. It was the purity of Death, not the taint of Chaos, which he held most dear and high now. He would have much preferred for Kanros to rise as an undead minion rather than as a corrupted being of chaos. Gathering his energies, Thulemiz began working on the chaos within the demigod.
Locating it was rather simple, though time had given it the opportunity to sink rather deeply into the body, mind and soul of the demigod. It as nothing Thulemiz could not restrain, however. His energies seeped into the demigod and gripped upon the chaos eating at him, effectively quarantining it. It was a slow and painstaking process, but if there was anything of Zerabil that remained within Thulemiz, then it was that very patience that Zerabil had inherited from Vowzra. It seemed such a long time ago. Thulemiz could not quite believe that he and Zerabil had ever been the same person; he could not even remember how that creature thought or saw the world. Those memories were like another's, they were like looking into the flow of Time - an act Thulemiz had long forsaken - and seeing the life of another.
But for the act that Thulemiz was now going to do, using those Time energies of Zerabil was necessary. With the chaotic energies under his grip, he began the process of sucking them back through time. What was effectively happening was rather simple: it would be as though the chaotic energies of the Blade of Chaos had never exploded into Kanros' face. The energies would be drawn back through the Time stream until they left the demigod's body, and they would naturally return to the shards of the Blade of Chaos, wherever they were or whatever had become of them.
It took several hours, but what were a few hours in the life of an eternal? Soon enough, the deed was done.
-Escre convinces Roxan to accompany it, Ull'yang, and Eroneus on a trip through the cosmos. -They break Vestec's last grips on the Astral Home and strengthen its defenses.
Death had been, for the monks of the Sanguine Communion, a trivial thing. After all, the lifeblood pumping through their veins ensured that each and every one would be able to withstand ridiculous amounts of damage. Though unable to boast the most vicious offense of Galbar's fighting groups, and without much true defense to speak of, they claimed victory through a combination of sheer persistence and sustain. All that mattered little, however, when an adversary delved past flesh and blood to assault something else.
It was a scene of slaughter. Blood spattered the ground around the woodland spring, and scattered around the clearing were the bodies of the dead. No tree or stretch of ground had gone unpainted or unmarked by clashing weapons. Only one being stood now, among the corpses, though it was difficult to say if it had ever been alive.
After a brief examination, Escre destroyed the last soul. It had spared these humans no mercy, even though they were members of Invidia's order. The Greater Spirit, clothed now in his Nightwalker form, had seen the corruption in their hearts and traced it back to this spring. Formerly, it had been connected to the core of the planet, the font of souls: the Astral Home. But the devil's final act upon surrendering his greatest act of conquest was to turn half of the life-giving Visceral Seeps into wells of corruption, and not all of the monks were quick to catch on. Those already tainted by Vestec's poison, turning their logic into rage, their compassion into lust, and their reason into hate, were now dealt with. Escre raised its hands, and all of the blood in the clearing began to flow into the Seep. When the entire scene was devoid of gore, Escre made a crushing noise, and the blighted spring was swallowed by the earth. "Three down. It will have to be enough."
The Great Spirit then manufactured a very specific resonance: one so keen and precise that it would enter only the minds of Ull'yang, the Sun Aspect, and Eroneus, the Birdbrother. "Demigods. I ask for your convergence at my position. Before our great journey can begin, two matters await that I request your presence for. A third demigod may accompany our pilgrimage through the galaxy, and the Astral Home must be protected."
Many days and nights had passed since Ull'yang visited the Uri land and bestowed upon them his gifts. Since then, he had made frequent visits to the same village, acquiring further knowledge of the race and its people. In one of his brief stays, he was informed of the turmoil that the government had faced.
With the assassination of the Uri king and the execution of all their council members accused for treason, the previous king's son and heir took the throne for himself and immediately started reforming the Uri state.
Ull'yang didn't really bother himself with the politics of mortals and thus, let all those little details escape him. What he did catch on to though, was the fact that they founded an educational facility and training grounds for Uri to train on their newfound power, Hyper Photosynthesis. Ull'yang was very pleased with this turn of events, although he did know that even with the help of others, he had made it exactly so a certain amount of time spent training in the power would not be the only thing the students would have to do in order to gain the full benefits of the power. They needed more than training. They needed dedication. Only if they dedicated their lives to climbing to the pinnacle would they succeed in unlocking the third stage.
Ull'yang was flying a couple thousand meters above the surface of the planet, eyeing at it, analyzing it. He had made it his first priority; while the sun washed with its radiant light one half of the planet, Ull'yang would fly above the other half and see to it that darkness would not utterly consume the things living there. Unfortunately, the landmasses weren't exactly evenly divided among each half and as such, he needn't make such trips until a landmass big enough to be able to sustain life was created on the other half of the planet.
That was when he felt something forcing its way inside his mind, something familiar. "Demigods. I ask for your convergence at my position. Before our great journey can begin, two matters await that I request your presence for. A third demigod may accompany our pilgrimage through the galaxy, and the Astral Home must be protected," spoke Escre telepathically. Ull'yang let the Lifegiver finish before he spoke.
"Very well. I shall be there at once," he said and instantly turned 180 degrees and shot forward, wings flapping and legs galloping. In mere moments, Ull'yang landed at the location Escre had given them and bowed his head to the Great Spirit, waiting for his orders.
Eroneus sat, suspended in the sky, his eyes closed and lax. Snippets of sun poked through the cover of the woolen clouds, gently caressing the Birdbrother's face. He was meditating, something he had taken to often since his rise to demigod. He felt attached to everything, as if he was above everything, on a different ethereal plane. All things considered, he probably was. He had taken to meditation, as a way to just appreciate this new found celestiality. He breathed in slowly and heavily, and breathed out, repeating this process several times. He felt the clean cut pristine air, cut through his wind pipe and flow through his lungs. He enjoyed every second of it, even though, theoretically, he required no air to live. The air felt clear as crystals, fresh as a stream, and as sharp as a glinting dagger tip.
Suddenly, like a hot knife slicing through butter, a voice pierced his state of nirvana, bringing him out of trance-like state. His eyes fluttered open, and the voice spoke."Demigods. I ask for your convergence at my position. Before our great journey can begin, two matters await that I request your presence for. A third demigod may accompany our pilgrimage through the galaxy, and the Astral Home must be protected," Eroneus knew the voice belonged to someone with much more power than him, and that's when he placed who it was: his father; Escre. Eroneus said nothing, flapping his shimmering wings, summoning up gales, and he was off to the Great Spirit.
With the two demigods alongside, Escre flew into the air, cloak whipping around him. The three flew at high speed, honing in on their airborne target. Beneath them, the terrain raced by. Rivers, forests, grasslands, and hills flashed beneath them as they soared lighter than air. In no time at all, they were approaching the object of their search: a lone, young dragon prowling the winds, with the shape of a woman on its back. Escre, Ull'yang, and Eroneus spread out and formed up around Roxan, with the demigods on either side and the Great Spirit directly above. "Hail, daughter of the Execrable One. We desire a word with you, and beseech you to land."
Roxan was soaring with Raktavira when three figures that she recognized as Escre, Ull'yang, and Eroneus appeared before her, the two Demi-gods fanning out on either side of Raktavira. The lethal Demi-god tilted her head and smiled. "Since you asked so nicely, I'll land in that clearing below us. Do try to keep up." She directed her mind towards her dragon's. Raktavira, can you land in that forest without clipping your wings?
I believe so, Roxan. the dragon replied. I may be be a bit unstable, and you might get dizzy. Roxan merely smiled as the dragon banked to his right and entered a steep dive, folding his wings along his body to avoid hitting the trees, then pulled up and landed on his hind legs first, wings spread for balance. Once he was stable on all fours, he appeared to bow, and Roxan freed herself of the straps that kept her anchored to the saddle, sliding down his foreleg. Raktavira settled, laying on his belly, and his Rider leaned against his shoulder, waiting for the others to catch up.
The air directly in front of Roxan and Raktavira shimmered, and Escre appeared. In its nightwalker form, the Great Spirit appeared as a tall but thin man, with long hair, grayish skin, a wide-brimmed hat, and a cloak that seemed to shift of its own accord. Compared to the heavenly vestige of the horse and man who touched down soonafter, Escre had a unique and unnerving air. Its presence did not invoke fear, not that Roxan would have been susceptible to it, but rather emanated a vibe of something unnatural, even as gods went. When those gaunt lips began to move, without high-altitude winds necessitating a higher tone, they issued a soft voice. "Know this before we begin: your father is my adversary. His duty as Chaos incarnate is to tear down and defile all that I create. But my preliminary analysis of your soul leads me to believe that we need not share the same rivalry. It is expected of one touched by Vestec to be his pawn, a soul mired and muted, beating fitfully to Chaos's tune. Yours is different. Any spirit that has made contact with Vestec and withstood his corruption is one worthy of the respect of the god of Life."
Roxan stood straight and bowed with both arms over her chest. "Seeing as how he had not played an important role in my life, until now, it stands to reason that my soul took the shape it preferred." she paused. "But what do you want with me, pray tell? I know for a fact that you are not merely here to give me your respect, revered as it may be." She stroked Raktavira's black-blue scales fondly. "What you could you possibly want with a creature that is the exact opposite of your purpose? My touch kills and infects, I am as close to being Death incarnate, as anyone will ever be, and cannot touch another living soul without consequence. Even my blood is like a toxin."
Escre blinked. When its eyes closed, hundreds of tiny eyes opened within its cloak. For a moment, uncountable optics were fixated upon Roxan, enough to divine the tiniest detail. Then the Great Spirit replied. "And yet you say this as you pet your dragon. It is precisely because you represent death that I seek you out. Life and death are not eternal opposites. They are two sides of the same coin. I may preside over Life, but I am more aligned with Spirit. I have always been in touch with death. It is why I appear in the forms of ghosts. But I will gladly share with you my intentions."
"Soon, we three will depart. We have an important mission to attend to, and all that can be done on Galbar has been, with one minor exception. We will set forth on a great journey through the cosmos, to seek out what unimaginable things came to be at the moment of this universe's creation, and where there are none, to fill in the gaps. Light, air, life...all are the building blocks of greatness. No doubt you question: what place in this assembly has Death? Perhaps not to build, but perhaps to watch and understand. In the course of this journey, all demigods with me will come closer to godhood. As you grow stronger, you will find the power to do more. And I hope that in return, you all might teach me what I lack. It promises to be an experience of legend. However, I will not force you into it. Decline, and I will leave you here, though you may always wonder what it is you missed. I am prepared to fulfill whatever parting requests are in my power as recompense for your valued accompaniment."
Roxan considered his words-they refreshed her. They came from someone who did not just see her as walking death, but as part of the cycle of life. “I am only able to pet Raktavira because we bonded when he hatched, and I was able to immunize him, and his sister." She replied, then fell silent.
"To watch and understand,” she echoed, thinking. [color=seagreen]“And to teach you what you lack.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I am not one to deny adventure, or a way to prove that I am more than a daughter of Chaos-a union that was not mutual on both ends, and carrier of decay. You may count me in, Lord." She bowed as she had before, and pulled a loose scale from Raktavira, with his permission, and held it in her hand, offering it to Escre.
"Take this, as a sign of gratitude for seeing more than what most believe me to be."
At that moment, Escre wished it felt the significance behind smiling. It received the scale with a slight bow, and held out its left hand. "I thank you. Seeing things differently is sometimes, it seems, a boon. Take this, as a sign of gratitude for proving that from even the darkest void, a star may shine." It was a ring, a solid band of white metal. "Its purpose is two-fold. If you wish to bring your companion with you, give it to Raktavira and it will allow you both to survive in the void beyond Galbar. If you'd rather brave the unknown alone, return Raktavira to whomever you trust and wear the ring yourself. You, too, will rise on raven's wings: an angel of death. Before the journey beings, there is one final preparation to make. Eroneus, Ull'yang, and I are going to the Astral Home to prepare it. If you so desire, you may come with us there after tending to your farewells, and visit the font of souls before we brush the stars."
"Aye, thank you, Lord." She replied, taking the ring. "I'm bringing my dear Raktavira with me. I shall go with you, after I bid farewell to my oldest friend. If you would give me but a few moments, i shall go bid him farewell, and be back shortly after." She pulled the black stone from inside her pocket.
"Very well. Seek the tower of bone. Your association with me will give you a penchant for detecting our various spirits. See you then. Oh, and please, do not call me Lord. I have not done things befitting a true God. None of us have."
“My apologies.” She disappeared to hail farewell to Viscardi.
Then, with Eroneus and Ull'yang behind, Escre made straight for the Planet Cord and the Astral Home.
-=-=-
The trip went uneventfully until the god of Life smacked into an invisible wall and bounced, in a most undignified manner, into the side of the Planet Cord.
Escre shook its head, newly analyzing. To affect its psyche, a barrier would have to have been erected by a fellow divinity. Vestec. Of course. Who else would try and keep the god of Life from entering the Astral Home? As Escre examined the magical defenses, it found that the barrier was meant to steal power from anyone attempting to breach it and use it to strengthen itself. A pity then that my power is, for the time being, spent."Demigods, please help me to breach this defense. It is the task I required your help for. Attacking it with your power should be enough." Abruptly, Escre shifted into its revenant form. In its armored left hand appeared its scythe, and with a creepily impassionate fervor, it began to whale on the invisible wall.
Roxan smiled and dismounted Raktavira. She took off her glove, reaching for the invisible wall, willing the venom in her skin to eat away at it. Raktavira, gather the toxin I have gifted to you and center it in your claws, then slash at the barrier, She said to him. But first, do me a favor and cut my left palm.
Are you sure, my Lady? the dragon replied. Roxan nodded. Raktavira reluctantly cut her palm with a claw, leaving a gash that was half an inch wide. Roxan gritted her teeth, and pressed her bleeding skin to the unseen wall, her blood slowly, but steadily burning a hole in it.
Eroneus watched the wall with hawk eyes. He did not believe a transformation to his Battle Forme would be required, not yet at least. Directing his energy into his hand, which he had transformed into what was best describe as a giant hawk talon. He wound up his arm, biding energy, and he released it all, slashing the wall with his talon, tearing a hole in the ethereal wall. Up to this point he had remained silent, which he broke by saying, "Got it."
"Certainly," Ull'yang responded to Escre's request. He looked at the barrier and then looked at his fellow demigods who were trying to break through it. "Hmm, so we just need to create a big entrance? If that's the case, then I think concentrating on one point would make it much easier to complete the task than attacking from multiple angles," he said.
Suddenly, Ull'yang's eyes grew a bright gold and after a second, two concentrated beams of light shot from them, both hitting a spot between the holes in the barrier already created by Roxan and Eroneus. Slowly the beams burned away at the barrier and after a while, joined the two other holes together into one big entrance. "I suggest we hurry and enter because we don't know if Vestec made it possible for the barrier to regenerate itself," Ull'yang told the other three.
Escre nodded. "Follow me." It led the way through the end of the Planet Cord into the Astral Home chamber. The presence suggested by Invictus, cleansing the corruption cast upon the place by Vestec and preventing future acquisition, manifested in a certain aesthetic change. The walls of the chamber, previously simple stone, had become nebulous, very much like space. Tiny pinpoints of light shone from its surface, and none compared to the Astral Home itself. The Home rippled in the chamber's center, a colossal orb of lifeblood. Spirits, previously rerouted to Escre's lantern to avoid corruption, were now released from the object into the orb, and they danced around it like fireflies before sinking in and entering the Spirit World. The Great Spirit flourished its scythe at the regenerating protections, and they were placed under its control. Now, teleportation into the Astral Home was blocked, and any god attempting to physically enter it would be teleported into a random point in Galbar's upper atmosphere. Escre had only eyes for the orb, however. "Magnificent."
It turned to face the three demigods, wreathed in white flames. "Our business here is complete. It is time for the great journey to begin. Fly quickly, companions, but do not worry if you falter or tarry. I will not leave any of you behind."
Escre burst into flame and rocketed past them, heading straight up the Planet Cord. Its demigod companions followed, and in short order, they left Galbar behind.
Rejys and Greyus take the shards of the Blade of Chaos to Ferghus
Ferghus accepts it and upgrades Rejys, though only giving him half of the agreed upon upgrades
Ferghus assures them that if they get the other half of the Blade he would come true on his contract with them
Rejys looked down upon the destroyed remains of half of the Blade of Chaos. He was rather surprised that they had actually managed to get a hold of the Blade - he had thought it a nigh on impossible task. And, considering they only had half of it, perhaps it was.
'I am sorry Battle Brother,' Greyus said, 'we have failed you, and we have lost our Silent Brother to the Execrable Chaos,' Rejys looked up at the Seer but quickly reassured him. 'You did what you were capable of, Silent Brother. You are not at fault for the passing of Alfid, it is the way of war,' Rejys allowed himself to look over the small town that had grown here on this cold continent. It was yet small, largely made of wood, with a wooden wall and a trench around it and various huts and cottages within. The rivers nearby allowed for fishing and the strange creatures Thulemiz had conjured up - who proudly called themselves Ghoul Kings - had scouted the area. There were caves in the nearby forests and the area seemed rather rich in resources. It was just a matter of settling down and establishing themselves in the area before they could begin making use of them.
War had not yet ravaged these lands. Rejys hoped that would remain the case, though something told him that the Grandmaster had some very different ideas. Certainly, the Ghoul Kings did not seem all too peaceful, and their ghoul minions did not look like they were built to live in farms and become miners. They could certainly be commanded to build things, but Rejys knew beings of war when he saw them. They would need to find a way to bring back their Battle Brother Zerabil. If only Battle Brother Jrolfir was still with them, or Battle Brother Juras; or that brave and quick-witted Battle Sister Aryali. He let out a hot sigh before turning back to Greyus.
'Come, Silent Brother, let us take what we have to the Fiery One, perhaps he will find some use for the little that we bring him,' and with that, Greyus placed an armoured hand upon the Arma Igna and the air around them shimmered before they disappeared. Mere seconds later, they reappeared before the guardian of Mt. Vulcan.
Robbie remained motionless as the Brothers appeared. Robbie sent a telepathic message to Ferghus regarding Rejys and his quest. Moments later, the avatar of Ferghus appeared via his usual rising pillar of fire. "So, you have returned. I hope you brought that Blade of Chaos with you, because I certainly don't sense a strong presence of chaos around," Ferghus greeted them. "Maybe that rather large discharge of chaos energy I sensed earlier had something to do with it, hmm?"
Rejys got down on one knee and was about to start explaining the situation when Greyus interjected. 'We do have the Blade of Chaos, Fiery One. At least, most of it. The Warlord Ialu unexpectantly destroyed the weapon, and all we managed to do was gather the shards, while the handle remained in the Warlord's hand,' he put a hand on Rejys' shoulder, 'We could do nothing more; the Warlord has become a fearsome monstrosity indeed, and he allied with him the chosen of the Great Spirit Escre. We did what we could,' Greyus stopped there and both Victors were silent as they waited upon Ferghus' verdict, the shards of the Blade of Chaos laid out before him.
Ferghus stared at the pieces before him, wondering what he was going to do with them. Ferghus put his hand near the shards to determine if there was still any chaotic energy left in them, and sensed none at first. However, he did feel a small, but steady, increase of chaos energy being absorbed into the shards, originating from elsewhere. Curious, he looked up and turned his head from side to side, trying to determine the source. However, Ferghus was in the middle of a business transaction, so he put the thought aisde for now.
"Well, this is certainly the Blade of Chaos, or at least, part of it," Ferghus said. "Still, since you only brought me half, it is only expected for me to give you half the payment. Come, Rejys. I shall bring you into my forge. Robbie, keep watch of the other one." Ferghus then placed a hand on Rejys' shoulder, and transported them both away, into the forge. Despite being indoors, with no windows or anything, it was surprisingly well lit within the forge. Ferghus grabbed a random hammer lying on a table and said, "Hold still." Ferghus placed his hand on Rejys' face plate and extracted the life of fire from Rejys' body, returning it to its armored husk. Placing the ball of fire onto the table, Ferghus got to work creating a new set of armor. The task took a few hours, as it was slow work, but Ferghus worked on the task steadily. As he forged the armor, Ferghus set enchantments into the metal, granting it Wi immunity, as well as the enchantment to resist a large amount of physical damage.
Finally, the deed was done. The new body appeared similar to the old set of armor, but it was made of a superior metal. Back then, Ferghus had created the armor purely to move around like a normal human could. This time, Ferghus put more effort into it, shaping it so it would have more speed and strength. Ferghus took a moment to admire his work, then grabbed the ball of fire that was Rejys' life force and placed it into the suit of armor. Immediately, the fire grew, spreading into every inch of the interior of the armor, and Rejys regained consciousness. "Alright, how do you feel?" Ferghus asked Rejys.
The suit of armour began moving slightly, slowly at first as it tested itself, but soon enough it was moving as smoothly - if not even moreso - as it was before. It certainly felt very different. 'I feel...light,' he said, not exactly able to explain it. He felt lighter, freer. Not like a suit of armour at all; perhaps it was the feeling a man had when they were barefoot and naked - except that Rejys felt anything but vulnerable. 'I feel grateful, my lord. Thank you for your blessings and mercy,' the Arma Igna got down on both knees, humbled by the god's generousity and kindness to him. He hoped that the Fiery One would always be there to guide and protect him; certainly Rejys honoured the other gods, but just as Zerabil before could not help but love his own Father, Rejys could not help the loyalty and love he had for his creator.
"You're welcome, and just remember that this is only half the payment," Ferghus reminded. "If you get the other half of that Blade, I'll finish the upgrades." Ferghus then transported him and Rejys back to where they were originally, where both Robbie and Greyus seemed to be waiting patiently. "So you're still here," Ferghus said to Greyus. "Well, if you get the other half of the Blade of Chaos, come on back." Ferghus transported himself back into his forge, taking the shards of the Blade of Chaos with him, planning to make sure the chaos within the shards would not infect anything within his forge. Robbie remained at his post, as motionless as a statue.
With that, the two Victors disappeared and returned to their new home.
When you stare into the misty night and into the blizzard, do you think it does not also stare into you?
Sjorndalrheim is pronounced John-dal-eim (ei pronounced 'I')
Introducing Chief Thormar Wrolfin of the Sjorndalrheim Wrolfin
Thormar stands staring into the blizzard, atop a hill, with the village of Sjorndalrheim behind him
The Wrolfin tribe, with it's various villages, is introduced and a brief flashback details the last visit Thormar had to Hevbyskton, whose fishing fleet is being constantly raided by Gnanrir raiders
Thormar thinks back to the disappearances which have been happening recently, and he believes there are creatures taking his people
He walks back home and realises he is being followed, only to find it is little Inreki
He picks her up and walks on and notes once more that they are being followed
He faces off against Ghoul Lord Akenaten and a minion of his, but manages to step into his home, preventing the Ghoul Lord from doing him any harm
The Ghoul Lord warns Thormar, telling him that his enemies is the Great Lich Lord, and that he and his village would all be in his grasp soon
The old man stood atop the hill, leaning on his long wooden staff, staring out through the falling snow across the wide expanse of endless white. The heavens were a single coat of never-ending white and it was as though the very clouds had settled down upon the Sviebardian ground. The hill overlooked the vast plains of snow beyond, dotted with the odd tree here and there, before the plain gave way to snow-covered forests. The high vantage-point did not give the old man much ability to see what was actually on the snowy plains, however. The falling snow and the cold mist prevented one from seeing what was beyond the foot of the hill. He just liked to stand there and let his mind wander into those mists and blizzards beyond. Even from his youngest days he had done so, there was something rather grand about it all and only when he let his mind and eyes soar into the unseen could he even begin to comprehend.
Behind him stood a large village of Sjorndalrheim. Within it were many large homes of stone and timber, with chimneys smoking. The wooden holes for windows were sealed off against the evening cold and the sounds of those within did not reach the old man where he stood. People had lived here for a long time and the village was among the largest of the Wrolfin tribe's settlements, hosting nearly six hundred Wrolfin. Only the Wrolfin port-village of Hevbyskton towards the south was larger, holding nearly nine hundred tribals. To the west was the small village of Zarnbdheim with three hundred tribals and just north of Sjorndalrheim was Krongrdin, by far the closest, with one hundred tribals. There were also two or three other villages with populations ranging from fifty to eighty tribals each towards the east, and those were also quite close.
The Wrolfin often traded with other Sviebardian tribes, but the tribe tended to lean more towards its own, with the majority of trade going to and from Sjorndalrheim and Hevbyskton. Timber and metal was sent down to the port village, along with furs and meats, while all kinds of fish were sent up from the the port. The old man had been at Hevbyskton not a week before where he had been greeted heartily by Chief Olafson of the Hevbyskton Wrolfin.
'Thormar, you old snow dog!' he had roared as they embraced, 'where by the clouds o' ice have ya been man?' they had walked down to the sands by the sea and walked for long, updating each other on the situation in their respective villages. Chief Thormar had been elected Chief of the Sjorndalrheim Wrolfin by the Wrolfin Council nearly thirty five years ago, when the man was nothing but a thirty year old, long before Olafson had been elected. Sjorndalrheim had certainly grown greatly under his leadership and among the Wrolfin there was none more respected than he. Chief Olafson told him about the ongoing problem with raids on their fishing fleet from the nearby Gnanrir Tribe and asked for his view on the matter.
The issue had been going on for over a year now and the Gnanrir seemed either unable or unwilling to stop their raiders, despite assuring Chief Olafson on various occasions that the raids would stop. Something would have to be done. Thormar recommended that fishing fleets travel in larger groups, that would seem more of a threat to any raiders. He also recommended that they work on their ship designs. The current ones were small fishing ships, if they could be made larger and more seaworthy, that would mean that more fish could be hauled and the ships could more easily escape raiders - or even raid, if it came to that. 'Just make sure that whatever happens, you deal with the situation delicately and without your hot-headedness. We don't need an escalation into something more serious,' and Olafson agreed, promising to see to Thormar's recommendations. The northern chief remained in Hevbyskton for a good few days before returning home with the caravan, taking a good deal of fish back up with them. It was rather unfortunate that rivers were frozen pretty much all year round, otherwise sailing the many rivers from village to village would have made travel much easier and quicker.
If the lands of Wrolfin could be described as anything at all, Thormar would have described them as peaceful - even with the raids on Hevbyskton by the pesky Gnanrir. But now the people were afraid; their loved ones had been disappearing. At first it was just Fargan and Krisov. The two men went out to the forest to bring back some wood and did not return, and the search party, made up of five men, had gone out and not come back. Thormar had sent out one of his more skilled hunters, Sagnar, and the man had come back barely alive, before he mysteriously disappeared during that same night. Now even those who wondered the village during the night found themselves disappearing - Irena's husband Kahalgar had gone out to visit his brother two nights back and had not been seen again after that. In total, seventeen men and four women had disappeared, and he had gotten word from the nearby villages that they too had these strange disappearances happen.
If it were not for Sagnar's return and disappearance, Thormar would have been rather lost for ideas as to what could be the cause. But he knew, after seeing the marks and bites on Sagnar, that something was hunting them. Perhaps it was not one thing, perhaps there were more. He did not know what exactly the creature - or creatures - wanted, but he knew he had to protect his villagers. He would have a large group of hunters - two hundred - set out for the forest in the morning. They would cut down trees and bring them back in order to build a wall around the village, that should, hopefully, keep whatever creatures were hunting them out.
Turning around, he made his way back home. For now he needed to rest, and the morning would be a different matter. As he walked, he noted - with calmness that surprised him - that he was being tailed. Without batting an eye or speeding his rather slow pace, he continued on to his home. Only when something touched his leg did he stop and look. There was a hand on his leg. He looked further up the arm until his eyes met those of the owner. A little, blonde girl stared back up at him. 'What are you doing here, Inkeri? Did I not warn you about walking around on your own? Especially at night,' he scolded the little girl before picking her up in one arm and walking on. 'I saw you through the window, granpapa,' she said. He was not her grandfather, of course, it was just a term of affection, 'and I got scared for you. So I followed you out to make sure that the Ice Wolf doesn't get you. Mamma said that the Ice Wolf took papa because he was a naughty man and went out after dark, so I didn't want him to get you too granpapa,' her cheeks were red from the cold and her chatter was quite a nice change from his solemn thoughts. She was Irena and Kahalgar's eldest daughter, the two had been blessed with another child, a boy, not a week back. They had not named him, but after her husband's disappearance, Irena had named the child after his father. 'Your mother will die of worry when she finds out you are not home,' he informed her, but she assured him that her mother had been asleep with little Kahalgar when she went after Thormar. As she spoke, the Chief noted once more, with ice-cold calm, that they were being followed. He knew with certainty what it was this time. Like before, he kept up his slow pace and did not turn towards his home immediately when he saw it. He remained in the middle of the small path and kept his focus on the presence behind him. It was, strangely enough, a relief that Inkeri had not noticed and was still chattering away. It came as a surprise to the little girl, then, when Thormar suddenly ducked and a huge figure passed over them. Without pause, the Chief turned and dashed towards the door of his home, only to find it locked. His fist banged against the door even as Inreki screamed.
Holding onto his staff, he turned to face whatever monstrosity there was in the street. The darkness and snow obscured his sight at first, but then his eyes focused on a dark figure slowly emerging from the mist. As it came into full view, the jaw of the steel-nerved Chief slackened slightly. The creature was horrific. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, bent over forward with jaw wide open and prepared to take a bite out of its victim, arms grotesquely long and a strange dark aura surrounding it. From the shadows there walked another. This one more humanoid, but still undeniably like the other. 'We have come for you,' the humanoid one said, 'we have come for you all.'
Inreki gave out another heart-rending scream and all over the village doors began to open and armed villagers, though still sleepy, began to poke their heads out to see what was going on. Behind Thormar the door of his own home was unlocked and thrown open. Inreki jumped into the arms of the old woman who had opened the door. 'Granmama!' she cried, her sobs echoing in the night.
'What are you?' Thormar asked, horror in his voice as he backed away into his home. The being let off an annoyed sound as Thormar stepped beyond the threshold and entered the house. 'We are death,' the creature said, 'but to honour you all, I will allow you to know who we are and what is to become of you,' backing off into the shadows, both figures disappeared and a disembodied voice said. 'I am Akenaten, the Ghoul Lord. You shall soon be mine; the Great Lich Lord will have you,' and with that, their presences disappeared completely and Thormar was left to stare into the darkness with grim silence.
He would need to deal with this in the morning, and oh how near and how far the morning was!
Kanros had realized his breathing had become less ragged and he didn't feel the corruption in his body anymore, he looked up at Thulemiz who stood before him and said nothing only watched him stand there.
Kanros knew of the Lich Lord's intentions of the world and how the Lich saw purity in death and only death alone, and Kanros knew that if Thulemiz were ever to be entangled in a situation where it came to Kanros's death that he might not intervene to aid Kanros although he had just saved Kanros from the Chaos which would have devastated his being and changed him into a different person.
"Thank you Thulemiz!"
Kanros said to Thulemiz as he sat up in the small bed he had been laying upon.
He stood up and stretched, feeling the freedom of movement without armour upon the body was a grand feeling but it exposed the body to the wrath of nature and it exposed many battle scars most of them now new or some of them old and Kanros started to think that he should where stronger armour.
"What happens now?"
Kanros said as he went to fetch his belongings which were nearby clothing washed he guessed, clean from any blood or stains from the battle and as he turned to Thulemiz who stood silently, Kanros wondered about the Lich sometimes whether one day Thulemiz would turn on his own men and even Kanros although he thought that Thulemiz probably wanted Kanros solely for the purpose of protection and among other things a great advantage on the battlefield but he couldn't help but wonder.
- Astarte asks Ferghus for a suit of fashionable armour, offering her services and expertise in Soul Subjugation in a partnership as payment.
- Ferghus accepts the offer and begins working on the set of armour.
Astarte paced back and forth. From one end of the hut to the other. Kuro was sitting down cross-legged in the corner, calm like always.
"You really should calm down, Miss Astarte." He said in between sips of his tea.
"Calm down? How can you say that, pe- Uh, Kuro?"
"With my voice, of course. You're worrying too much about something that's clearly not of effect. From what you tell me, this Dragon God merely likes to give empty threats, right?"
"This one was different. He actually attacked me." Astarte huffed.
"And you're afraid he'll hurt you? Or that Vestec will protect you and he'll be hurt instead of you?"
"M-Me? Afraid, hah!" Astarte said, nervously.
"Some travellers mention a divine being of the Forge, it is said he can create the finest weapons and armour. Why don't you visit this being and ask some favours from him?" Kuro shrugged.
"Uh... Alright. Wise as always, Kuro." Astarte said with a warm smile.
Next thing she knew was that she was in front of Ferghus' over glorified bouncer. "Hello!"
Robbie remained motionless, but he conveyed a telepathic message to Ferghus. "Fiery One, this one may or may not deserve your attention. Immediately."
"I know, I can sense her," Ferghus relayed. In a moment, Robbie was engulfed in a pillar of fire, having been sent to the forge within, and Ferghus' Avatar appeared in place of him. "Astarte, what an unexpected surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Ferghus asked with a smile on his face. "A symbol of power, like I said once before?"
Astarte grinned back at Ferghus and shook her head, "More of a symbol of strength. I fear for my safety these days, and I'm looking for someone who knows how to make a set of armour that goes well with my dresses." Astarte explained as she pointed at her new dress.
"Nothing too in-your-face, but I expect it to be clear I'm wearing protection."
Ferghus placed a hand on his chin and looked at her up and down, trying to see what he could do. "Well, I see I'll have my work cut out for me," Ferghus remarked. "Can't say I've ever tried making something both fashionable and protective. Of course, there is also the matter of payment..."
Astarte winked at him once he expressed his inexperience in the field, "As for payment, well, say a price and we'll go from there."
Ferghus gave the mattter some thought, then suggested, "Well, how about a-"
"You know what, I know what you'd like!" Astarte said, getting excited out of nowhere. She jumped up onto the big boulder a few meters away from the entrance and laid down on top of it. "You're the God of the Forge, yet do you use souls in your forging? No! Or maybe you do, who knows." Astarte giggled.
"Point is, I offer you my services as a partner. I can do all kinds of things with souls, you know. And some souls are rather powerful artifacts." She flicked the soul gem on her crown for effect, and she grinned from ear to ear.
Ferghus gave this newfound piece of information some thought. Did he really want to create his art using souls? He could see some benefits, but he could also see downsides. However, it proved to be an interesting idea, and it was something he couldn't pass up. "Very well, Astarte, I suppose we have an agreement," Ferghus approved. "This armor of yours will take some time, though. I'll need to draw up some plans. Any preferences for the armor?"
Astarte nodded, "As I said, I'd like it to be subtle, yet it should protect against the full wrath of a God, at the very least for a few seconds. It should be form-fitting and preferably with some sort of skirt or flaps. I like skirts and flaps. Vestec likes the form fitting part, I suppose." She shrugged.
"If you need my help on any part of the process, let me know. And also-" Astarte grabbed her crown and threw it toward Ferghus, "That's a coral-made crown. From the depths of the ocean. Remake it in metal, but keep the gems."
Ferghus caught the crown with seemingly little effort, then examined the crown, turning it this way and that. If it was truly from the ocean, that was explain why he had never come across such material. Ferghus had no interest for water, except for cooling down metals and the like. "Alright then," Ferghus said. "I will need your help with regards to fabric for this, though. My specialty is metal, not cloth."
"Deal, then. If you need me for any Soul Subjugation process, just send me one of those cute little mind messages and I'll be over here quicker than you believe."
Ferghus nodded, then said, "Expect this dress somewhere within a week. I'll definitely have something made by then."
Vestec and Astarte plan their date...and talk about Alfid.
Vestec was idly watching Sakimi go about, experimenting with her newfound abilities and the Garakains slowly returning to their home. Prayers were still filing in to save them from the Yokel of Dusis and bring back Viscardi to lead them. Vestec ignored them in favor of examining the world state as a whole. Brightwoods remained untested and a stranger to war, along with Sviebard. The Cimex were gathering their strength, with the Uri. The Iron Legion was doing a defense against the mobs coming for them, quite well.
Vestec looked up as he sensed a presence, his colors turning pink. “Astarte!” His colors turned a brighter shade of pink as he noted her new dress. “What gives me the pleasure of your acquaintance?”
Astarte grinned and floated over to Vestec, “See, I heard a Lich calling for me. He seemed to think I owed him my protection. So I came looking for him, and he wasn’t there. A quick search and I realized a trail of your essence was present. I followed it here, and now I see one of your…” Her grin vanished and she snarled, glancing for a split second toward Sakimi, then back at Vestec, “Little human ‘friends’ with the gift intended for Thulemiz and his followers. Mind to explain?”
Vestec was grateful for his lack of facial features. Astarte would have seen an all too human wince, as it was his pink color color dimmed slightly. Carefully he replied. “Sakimi is nothing more than a simple mortal. I’ve been ignoring the Anju, and she’s quite the ambitious one. Detests me, but feels like I’m her ticket to power. Her loyalties will change as it suits her. With her power, ambition, and ‘how will it help me’ approach to morals and loyalties, she will create quite the fun time in the coming wars.”
“Besides, Alfid was planning on betraying Thulemiz with his friends. Apparently, they don’t obey the great Lich Lord as much as they pretend to. All that was behind my motive was to create a little more chaos with someone who is completely neutral and can fight for any side that offers her the right price. Nothing too offensive, I hope?”
Astarte relaxed her expression and shrugged. “The Great Lich Lord is a disappointment, then. He fails time and time again, even with the great gift of controlling the dead. He makes me look bad by extension…” She sighed.
“I mean, at least I got a new dress from the deal I made with him. I can see you like it.” She smirked and flipped her hair.
Vestec shook his head. “You can give some mortals all in the world and still they’ll fail. His failure is his alone, and he looks bad by himself.” As Astarte smirked at him, Vestec’s shades of pink grew brighter again. He shifted in an only slightly embarrassed fashion. “Yes. You’re only even more beautiful than before. I didn’t notice before, busy with the lizard and the demi-god as I was.”
Astarte huffed, “Yeah, that damned lizard. He just loves to stick his nose in places he’s not welcome.” Then she gave Vestec a quick hug, “That’s for jumping to my protection, I found it really charming.”
Vestec hugged Astarte back. “I’d never let anything harm you. Not even a nosey overgrown lizard. I’ve been ignoring his new little continent for too long. Time for a little fun with his peaceful humans, dragons, and Serpents, don’t you think?”
“He has a whole continent to himself?!” Astarte said, half alarmed and half excited, “Okay, Ves, so here’s the deal for our date: I’m going to create an Avatar and I will meet yours near one of the draconic cities, right? And then we’ll ‘recruit’ two of them and ride them. We’ll use them to burn the entire city to the ground and kill the other dragons!” She squealed a little and her eyes lit up.
“Oh by Thulemiz’s incompetence, that’s going to be so. Much. Fun.”
“Technically three. It’s really quite large.” Vestec said mildly before her excited aura and words swept over him. If he had had a mouth, he would have grinned. As is, his colors simply pulsed faster and in an excited manner. “It’s a date then! Shall we go small or just start destroying his biggest brood? Eskababond or Esrkathingy or something like that.”
“Let’s start small--Not too small, though. It’d be a good idea to outfit our avatars with armor of some sort, just in case!” She played with one of her bangs, “We should also build something in that town after it’s ruined to spite Sauranath. Maybe an insulting statue or simply writing something all over the walls?”
“A statue of us, in our costumes of course, holding a dragon corpse or three. We can arrange all the corpses in humiliating postures, perhaps a tea party, and write a lovely message along the walls. Give him a warning and a little rhyme to tell him where we’ll hit next.” Vestec giggled, pink colors bright.
Astarte nodded and pressed her forehead against Vestec’s, gently, “That’s going to be so fun. I’m excited already, and I can’t wait for that date to come.” She took in a deep breath, slowly, “I also think our costumes should only be headpieces. Mine will be of a dog.”
Vestec gently returned the pressure against his forehead, taking Astarte’s hands in his own. “Hmm. Shall my headpiece be a mocking lizard, or a grinning cat? An addition to yours, or a tweak on the damned lizard’s nose? You decide.”
“Be a cat, be a cat!”
Vestec chuckled. “Grinning cat it is. Who knows, maybe the mortals will start telling legends of the vengeful slaughter wreaked by the cat and the hound. We can even send Sauranath scrolls of them, just so he doesn’t feel left out.” Astarte giggled and gave Vestec a peck on his featureless face. “Yes… We should do that! Once the legends start, though. Maybe humans will start cults worshipping Cats and Dogs.”
Vestec turned a brighter pink, replying to Astarte. “Calling them as vengeful spirits upon their enemies. Maybe I’ll make a few adaptations to some dogs and cats, and actually have them respond to their cries and act upon their requests. They’ll have to hate dragons, of course.”
Astarte suddenly pulled away, a surprised look on her face, as if she figured something out. “... Why do you not have a face? I mean, I know you can get one easily, but why do you choose to not have one?”
“Technically, I’m more than one soul. Well, Godly soul. I’m four minor Gods who combined together to survive, when we were all made from the mist in the beginning. They were too weak, and the mist was trying to take them back. So they combined their essences and powers, and from the chaotic clash of essences I was born. They’re still within me, I can feel them, like with your crown. Any face I choose just doesn’t feel...hmm, right is a good enough word. Corruption wants a refined face, Violence a terrifying face, Discord a face that clashes, and Emotions wants a normal face.”
“No one has ever seen the four of them, and Chaos can be in anyone or anything. Sooo, I choose a featureless face. Something that can be anyone or anything, and each of the four of them can imagine that it looks how they want it to.” Vestec shrugged slightly. “It’s the best I can do without feeling wrong in my body. If that makes sense.”
“Yes, that indeed makes sense,” Astarte nodded and wrapped her arms around Vestec’s neck, she came closer, slowly, and whispered into where his ear should’ve been. “Though I wish Violence poked his head out more often while I am with you.” She pulled away, giving him a seductive look before throwing a menacing stare toward Sakimi.
Vestec shivered as Astarte’s voice whispered close to him, arms instinctively going around her waist. As she pulled away, it took a moment for him to reply. “Oh, don’t worry. Violence will be happy to be of service on our date.” As she stared menacingly at Sakimi, Vestec chuckled. “I did say you could have as much fun with any of my followers and creations. If she’s that annoying to you, go have fun messing with her.”
“No, I won’t. I’ll keep an eye on her, though. I’ve got a hunch I might get to like her if she’s like I think she is.” Astarte said, then waved her hand dismissively. She pulled Away from Vestec and winked at him, “I’ll see you later, then.” And with that, she vanished.
-Astarte and Vestec discussed what happened to Alfid. Ultimately, it was decided Thulemiz was a failure and a disappointment. Nothing was done about Sakimi having Alfid’s powers.
-Astarte and Vestec plan for their date to take place in a moderately sized Dragon Brood in Orabakh. It’ll even have costumes.
-Vestec and Astarte talked about what their date was going to involve, Astarte asked Vestec why he went with being featureless, and Astarte teased said she might like Sakimi if the Anju was like Astarte thought she was.
Sauranath, Great Reptile Ordinary Humanoid & Ialu, The Success Kid Level 4 Demigod, 5.5 Might
The Call upon the Great Gods
Sauranath calls Invictus and Fate to bail him out of his negative Might situation. He tears off some of his own scales and tells them that Mirtagn sacrificed himself in their name.
Fate and Invictus do not appear but speak out. For 160 years Sauranath has to live as an ordinary human in order for his Might to be restored. He has no divine aura or powers and isn't even recognizable. He is also immortal but can die, and if he does die, Invictus and Fate won't help him.
Invictus notices Ialu and recognizes him. Invictus is revealed to be the Mighty One.
As a favor, Ialu's curse of failure is removed and Ialu is teleported back into his house.
Ialu finds his house full of undead that he has to destroy. One of the Silent Six had reanimated the skeleton of the Dyun Champion, amongst some other things.
Invictus and Fate speak to all the gods, commanding them to stop their direct interference in human affairs
Sauranath looked upwards to the skies. The call upon Fate and Invictus would not go unnoticed, he hoped. "Upon the highest stars I call. Stars upon the stars, as high above us as we are above the worms and ants of the world down below. Unfathomable ones, high above the clouds. . . hear me speak my prose and poetic words. I petition you, because I am unsure if prayers are the right words for my request". He looked around himself. "The world down below is in maddening danger of being wiped out and replaced with corruption, walking dead. The Witch King Thulemiz, as the Brightwood's folk call him, slaughters innocents and replaces their lives as people with dignity as their slaves in the after life. I can think of only one way to exist right now, and that's by fighting. A dragon's life is mostly primal struggle, if not to the death than to achieve victory, even if it's by a wrestling competition."
"I pledge my power over to you, Invictus, Fate, I have been using your powers, and it has drained me severely. I have grown weary, furthermore, of life upon Galbar. The people there need me, and I may need it. There is no other world to make, for there is no one to rule or serve for anywhere else. The Stars could use my nourishment, true, but I am a dragon not a gardener. Hear my cry and my petition, great Fate and great Invictus. I have gone mad with frustration, unable to hold to my obligations, unable to save the innocent down below. Whatever I must ask for I do not know how to address such awesome beings. Once more I state, I shall pledge myself towards mortality, until a described amount of time has passed. I ask also that Mirtagn's act of sacrifice be remembered. His will to serve his Lord is unmatched. The Proud dragon race below are short of numbers in those who are as loyal as he".
"Behold I tear off my scales", Sauranath tore off his scales ritualistically. . . "Take my immortality! I grant my blood, my body and my soul for the good of the world, the people but most dearly the people who are innocent of perfidiousness!"
While Mirtagn's act of self-sacrifice had not gone unnoticed, it was these words of Sauranath that attracted the attention of both Greater Gods. Though Invictus did not appear, as he had done not so long ago with the Great Spirit Escre, his voice did ring within the minds of Sauranath and Ialu.
'Is it not a foolish being that gives up godhood for the sake of mere creations?' Invictus spoke, 'certainly you have weakened yourself greatly, but would it not be better for you to simply...hibernate for a while?'
A softer, far more encompassing voice suddenly echoes within their minds. This one was more melodious and seemed rather far off, as though it spoke from a far off place and its attention was not wholly on them.
'So it was, so shall it be,' it echoed, 'though take this wisdom, for you, from me: as you sow so shall you reap, laugh not with fools, but with wise ones weep,' and with that, an almighty force took hold of Sauranath as though he was naught but a child's doll, and it hurled him towards Galbar with such force that no wings or ability to fly would save him.
So great was the force that wings ripped away and scales were simply left behind, and the Great Reptiles very muscles and sinews were ripped apart, until all that was left to land on Galbar's earth was a grotesque piece of meat. This writhed and bubbled and grew and was coated in skin and formed bones until a blonde-haired, brown-eyed human man stood there. To all extents and purposes, he was naught but a man and none would be able to detect any divine presence about him, for he was no longer divine.
'For one hundred and sixty years, you shall dwell as a human,' came Invictus' command, 'and when your service is done, we shall return to you your power and your might. We have granted you extended life, but know that your prayers will be as nothing to us should you manage to find death,' and with that Invictus began to withdraw his consciousness, but something stopped him.
'Ah, I remember you now,' his voice whispered in Ialu's mind, before Fate's words echoed once more in the demigod's mind:
'As you sow so shall you reap, laugh not with fools, but with wise ones weep,' and with that the curse of absolute failure was lifted. 'Know this, child,' came Invictus' voice, 'honour the system even as you strive to overthrow it.'
And then they were no longer present and Ialu disappeared from Sauranath's star and reappeared in his home, where the familiar skeleton of the Dyun champion was very quickly upon him.
As for the warlord, he was alarmed to see the sight of Sauranath mutilating himself, only to be grasped by forces greater than any imaginable and essentally pulverized. From within the Star that was an Eye of dragons, Ialu saw the Great Reptile being seemingly obliterated and hurled back down to Galbar, but then...a human stepped out from the writhing carnage. The archgods' words having not been adressed to him, he had not heard their judgement and had no way of knowing what was to come of this pitiful remnant of what was once a god.
Out of sheer gratitude, Ialu made sure to memorize every detail of Sauranath's new features. Whether this was to be a temporary punishment or a death sentence, if the weakened dragon god ever found his way to Ialu the demigod vowed to himself that he would harbor and protect Sauranath to the best of his ability. If not purely out of gratitude, then he would strive to do as much should the god ever regain his former glory. It seemed wise to have an ally of such high station.
Then the warlord cringed for a moment as he awaited his own judgement; hoping that it would not be near so costly or horrible as what had befallen Sauranath. All he heard, however, was an unfathomably deep and powerful voice, that of Invictus, whispering to him. He remembered? The warlord's thoughts were briefly interrupted by some cryptic words from the other one called Fate, and then he felt the curse lifted. Invictus once again spoke to Ialu, referring to him as child. It was then that the demigod's suspicions were confirmed.
"Mighty One...father," he murmured as he faded away and then reappeared in a familiar place. His mind entirely occupied in thought and the comforting darkness of his home offering no warning, Ialu was taken by surprise by a very certain undead.
Seeming Dyun in structure and headless, it was easily recognizable as the remnants of the Dyun Champion. One of its skeletal hands went for the warlord's throat while the other snaked around to the handle of the Blade of chaos, nestled in his clothing. Ignoring the grip on his throat for a demigod needed no air, Ialu's hand shot like lightning for the wrist of this old adversary. He twisted and heard a great snap as he tore off the entire arm, then a few more cracks as fingers broke when he tore the handle back out of the decayed hand.
Summoning his wi, he simply obliterated his enemy. The skeleton at once disintegrated and was reduced to a heap of dust and bone meal. He had come a long way since that creature had nearly killed him, after all. Turning around, the demigod could sense all sorts of vile undead crawling about in his home, no doubt reanimated by one of those accursed necromancers that were Thulemiz's dogs...At least Invidia had reduced those six necromancers to five, before he himself suffered a humiliating death in a pool of acid.
Sighing, Ialu effortlessly cleared out his cottage of undead. All the while, his thoughts were straying elsewhere.
Sauranath looked around himself. . . he would have to immediately make his way to the Brightwoods. They were the only free nations that were left. The undead were very close. The Brightwoods were better defended than the past nation, and the serpent men were allied very closely with the Brightwood. They knew the ways of dragons themselves, and their metal equipment and smithing process was the most advanced in the world. That was the only thing that Sauranath knew could save the people, other than having an immense allying army of dragons. Sauranath was only a Human being now. He would have to learn the ways of the dragons like the Brightwoodsmen. He did, however, find on his arrival how to smith using Mithril and that the Brightwoodsmen folk and Serpent Men were building closer ties than expected. They didn't just get along or trade, they were diplomatically close, as in allied. It made sense to get themselves ready even as the West was crawling with undead. The former deity hoped Ialu had the good sense to come to the East.
'You have destroyed and torn and played around, now listen to our commands: let your toying end with mortal lands,' it was the voice of Fate, ringing in the minds of all the gods. 'It is our...wish...that you no longer interfere directly with mortal affairs. You gods may no longer appear, in your full, havoc-causing presences before mortals. Your Avatars may do as they wish, but you gods must stay away, or if you cannot, then do no harm,' it was Invictus this time. With their orders given, the two Great Gods returned to their other, far more important duties elsewhere.
- Vestec visits Arguis in need of fashionable clothing to wear to a date with a special someone. - Arguis leads him to a seat were they work of the outfit. - With some detective work from Arguis, they are able to find the perfect outfit for Vestec. - Vestec tells Arguis of upcoming events on Galbar. - Arguis plants accordingly.
Vestec appeared next to Arguis, eyeing the library and the Toren. For a brief moment he considered corrupting them, but decided against it. He needed Arguis to not be irritated with him, for once, and corrupting the scholars served no purpose. Unless, of course, I wanted to write history as I viewed things. Vestec thought with a supressed giggle, turning to face the Knowledge God. "You're the God of Knowledge correct? So you should know things in odd matters of subject." Vestec paused a beat, then continued before his better judgement could get him. "Astarte and I are going on a date and I need something to wear that's better than my usual garb. The unfortunate thing is, I have no idea what would impress her. Hence, I turn to you."
Arguis floated in the air nonchalantly, subconsciously dodging bookshelves and Toren while thinking about how to begin writing about Galbar's history. It would have been best from his point of view, he was the god of Knowledge, it was the most logical choice. But then there would be sayings of bias if he were to do it that way. Arguis sighed and decided to dwell on another matter, such as the sudden appreance of Vestec, not the god he had expected to appear in Alma'Toren first.
Arguis listened to Vestec's request of him, help him look good for his date with a goddess. Arguis frowned, the whole thing was sort of immature to Arguis, but he usually left his opinion out if such matters, although his opinion would be the one that mattered most. "Don't you think this is a waste of time, you're celestial beings, not mortal teenagers." Arguis said with his eyebrow raised. "Were are you you even going to take a goddess that has probably seen everything, taking her to your personal plane would basically be, 'let's go to my place and have sex'." Arguis said as his feet touched the ground and he placed his hands in his pockets. "No matter, you came to the right place, before you know it you'll be asking me to arrange your wedding." Arguis said with a chuckle as he walked towards the stairs leading up to the second floor of the library.
Vestec chuckled. "Depends on who you ask. Invidia, Escre, Vowzra, Sauranath, and possibly Ferghus all think we're immature teenagers with the powers of Gods. Astarte and I just enjoy ourselves. And she's going to contact me with where to go. She's selecting the location, not me. Lead on, Arguis, lead on."
The God of Chaos followed Arguis, pausing only to eye the Toren speculatively once more. "I assume this is where you're going to record all that happened and will happen, in as unbiased a manner as possible, rather than letting the mortals create their legends and stories from our actions."
"Exactly!" Arguis said with a with a grin as he led Vestec to the second floor of the Grand Library, a tall tree reaching up to the roof, illuminated the grand hall with beautiful light. Arguis listened to Vestec attentively as he spoke, for once, he didn't seem like the Chaotic god that he was, despite the fact that every time Arguis looked at him, his clothes were a different color of the rainbow, no wonder he wanted a change of clothes. Arguis led Vestec to a table under the tree, and took a seat, instantly leaning back and closing his eyes.
"Take a seat." Arguis said nodding to the seat across the table from Arguis. As he said that, books started to float forth from the bookshelves, magically laying themselves on the table in front of Arguis, 7 in total, and opening to his desired page. "What exactly are you looking for, I assume you want to be yourself, that would entail keeping you Chaotic...ness?". Arguis said looking up at Vestec as he read over the books.
Vestec shrugged. "More or less."
Suddenly another book appeared in his hands, this time completely blank. A pencil appeared next to it and it began to scribble on the page, as if an invisible man was writing on it. Arguis was drawing sketches of desirable clothing for Vestec, which was a challenge since traditional clothing wouldn't work for the Chaos god. "How about this?" Arguis said turning the floating book to Vestec. It was a start, definitely not a finished project, it was meant to see what the gods preferences were.
Vestec stared at the drawing for a few moments. "Hmm. Do you have anything less...poofy? Sleek. Compact. More in line with the right arm than the left. If that makes any sense."
Arguis nodded and the pencil scribbled away on another page, it seemed that his former drawing had done it's job effectively. Arguis started to narrow down the style of the clothing, the more critiquing he could get from Vestec, the better the outfit. Another drawing was quickly created, this time adding in the compactness and sleekness. "How about this?" Arguis said, turning the book for Vestec to see, they were slowly getting closer to what Vestec was looking for.
Vestec nodded slowly. "Better, but less military, perhaps? Remove the gauntlets, sword belt, armored boots and elbow pads. I'm going to a date, not a battle." Vestec's shifting colors along his face briefly coalesced into a wry smirk. "Or at least, I don't think it'll be a battlefield."
Arguis nodded once again and the pencil began to scribble again, he took out the military aspect, and this time added the 'Chaos' to it. "You never know. Arguis replied to Vestec's talk of the probability of visiting a battlefields. Chaos... had a tendency to follow the God the represented it, their was nothing stopping the place that they would visit from becoming one. "What about this?" Arguis said once again, turning the book for Vestec to see.
"That's perfect. Don't worry about the colors, I'll take care of that." Vestec giggled. Suddenly the Chaos God stilled as he felt Roxan (a presence he never fully lost track of) begin to leave the atmosphere. It only took a bit more push to find who was taking her. She was going willingly, he knew that much.
Be very careful with my daughter, Escre. He warned the Life God. He didn't make any direct threats. Escre, as alien as it was, would understand perfectly well the concept of 'Vengeance' and 'Hatred.' Expanding his next words to encompass the Demi-Gods, his cheerful tone was back. Going on a space adventure are we? Do have fun, dearie. There will be plenty for you to do when you get back. I'll make sure of it. With that, he returned his attention to Arguis.
Arguis leaned back at grinned, easy, he just had to push the right buttons to find what he was searching for. Despite the unusual reaction after Vestec's giggling ended, Arguis said nothing, opting to let Vestec deal with his own problems, unless they warranted his attention. Arguis ripped the page out of the book and the drawing magicly peeled of the paper. It began to grow and expand, slowly becoming more and more real until it did, fitting Vestec perfectly, all Vestec needed to do was add his own personality to it. The black clothes floated over the Vestec, ready to be taken out of the air and worn. "That's my job done, hopefully Astarte dosent figure out were you got it from, but I'm sure she will like it. Arguis said with a shrug of his shoulders, as the books on the table began to float back to their places
"Thank you for your help." Vestec said, standing as he examined the new clothing. With in a heartbeat, his usual chaotic colors over took it. "Also, in appreciation, here's a minor heads up about what all has happened and what I'm going to do soon. Aztoc is a wraith, bound by Astarte with 1000 other humans to forever protect the city of Garakai. The Morello-Nomicon is in my personal plane and after adding my own little touch, I'm going to visit all the other Gods and ask for them to add something of their own blessings or spells too it. Making it quite the interesting artifact. Ialu has been taken by Sauranath and cursed with failure by me. Sauranath babbled quite a bit about asking Invictus and Fate for help before leaving"
Vestec idly examined his new clothing again, before continuing. "The Garakains are slowly returning, and already prayers are flowing to me to restore Viscardi to them and take them from under the yokel of Dusis, I told them about that. I'm going to agree and take them all away. Don't worry everything on the land, when you made your deal with Aztoc, will remain. The entire returing population will be transported to Orabakh with Viscardi, to start their Empire again. I'll take all the corrupted Cimex, along with a portion of the Chimeras whom I'll corrupt, and all the Barbed Uri and put them with Viscardi. I killed one of the Six servants of Thulemiz and gave his powers to an Anju hero. Sakimi. Quite the ambitious little mortal. She doesn't even have any loyalty to me, and I'm giving her an Order of assassins."
"Thulemiz is attacking Sviebard, and Viscardi will be assualting Orabakh. Since no one seems interested in actively fighting against the Forces of Chaos, I'll have to take matters into my own hands. An Order will be created to actively battle against my followers. Things have been going too smoothly for them. I suspect this new order will need your help. Feel free to bless them and whatnot. I'll create a race too, but that'll settle itself out. First time not creating something designed to kill and destroy." Vestec giggled. "Well, there you go. That's all my upcoming plans. Prepare as you wish."
With a friendly wave, the God of Chaos disappeared.
Arguis listened to Vestec's talk about up and coming situations and wars. He would in fact prepare accordingly, Arguis smiled and waved goodbye to the Chaos god, wishing him luck in courting a goddess. Arguis sighed, he was planning and number of 'experiments' on the Cimex in the coming years. Mostly psychological changes, nothing drastic, unless seen in the eyes of another race, the Cimex would become, civilized, but their viciousness and battle expertise would not fade. The Uri would make many advances in technology, making them the center of it in fact, only rivaled by the Cimex in their industiouness. They would also explore and colonize Orabakh, mostly everything west Erstakh. Arguis sighed, the coming years would be hectic that was for sure. Arguis chose to dwell on another matter, such as the book of Galbarian history that he needed to work on.
Sauranath looked around the world. . . Oh. . . couriers and messengers were sent from around the world to receive word of or invite Ialu to the Brightwoods. The Serpent Men allied with the Brightwoods to prevent the incursion from the West. Serpent Men and Brightwood's folk armored in Mithril, Dragon scales and Dragon bones, now that Mithril could finally be used to hone bones and not just scales into weapons and armor. Sauranath himself was now a Dragon Disciple. No longer just a mere man, he was not like Ialu, or a great hero, but he was nonetheless one of the folk of the world whom mortals considered intelligent, resourceful, aware with his wits about him and capable of strong and powerful magic. He was unable to master Immortality from Dragon Discipleship, however. . . but he was content in that the second phase of the final Ceremony was successful. His mind would clear and grow more powerful, along with his magical abilities and potency, even if his body would crumble into ashes.
Sauranath did not understand, but he finally had an intellectual grasp on what Fate and Invictus were saying. Either he would age for one hundred and sixty years and head back to his star and be renewed as the Arch Dragon Lord, or he would die and return as Sauranath. Either way, both things were acceptable to him. Sauranath was happy to wear the Masterwork Mithril gear, between dragon scales and dragon bone, perfectly light and hardy at the same moment. Though he could not transform into a dragon he could speak with some dragons, as arrogant as they are, as equals. Some of them, they didn't know, no one knew he was a deity, but they KNEW. Somehow, they knew he was one of them. Sauranath sent word for Ialu. Diplomatic exchanges. . . began with Sauranath immediately sending messengers who knew how to use Dragon Adept powers and most importantly, teach them enormously well. Anywho were loyal to Ialu would learn such things. A large contingent of Brithwood's folk stayed in their stronghold, and thousands, not hundreds, but twelve thousand furious dragons of MANY Broods stomped or soared their way to the South West to do battle with the rising hordes of creatures. This time, they sent word to the Humans, Cimas and Dyu, Serpent Men and no matter the race, that their enemies were mutually the undead monsters of the West.
They would gather their time and strategize. Mirtagn was gone, but they had many strategists and tacticians. Sauranath, now by the name of Sarokh, was a one hundred year old man. He had undoubtedly aged, at least forty years, to the age of sixty, clinically speaking. Well, um. . . another eighty years to go? He had hoped he could stall his inevitable climb into venerable, almost crippled old age for as long as possible.
Since the beginning of Galbar, many races have come into existence. First the humans, the Dyun, Uri, and Dragons, but one race has remained a hallmark of horror since the beginning of this planet, and that, is the Cimex. A vicious humanoid bug race, armed with reactive evolution, an intellect on par with that of a human, an adrenaline like ability that can be used at will, and have Hive mentality. Over the past few years though, the Cimex have not been heard from, the jungles of the Cimexian Realm have not been traversed by humans nor Uri, for fear of their power, and the Cimex only grow stronger.
Over the past 80 or so years, the Cimex have been transforming psychologically and physically. The greatest of these psychological changes are Morals and Conscience, The Common Good, Civic Virtue, and definable Emotions. These psychological changes have began to show more and more in Second Generation Cimex, better known as the Singular Generation. As the Hive Generation died off, the Singular Generation have began to stray from the path that the first Cimex did. As for physical changes, the Cimex keep their humanoid bug archetype, but lose to huge wrist claws, the Reactive Evolution has become less reactive, taking months or years to adapt. But the Cimex make up for some of their loses with the slowly forming governmental system.
As was mentioned before, some of the physical and physiological traits have changed, some switching places. Their Hive Mentality, which literary allowed them to become one mind, has become a greater form of Civic Virtue. This concept is a hall mark in this newly formed Cimexian society, so much so thag the word 'I' has almost completely dissaperaed, now replaced with 'we'. Brotherhood and working for the good of society has even inculcated itself into rising Cimexian Rule. Now no longer a monarchy, but a for of government where the Cimex are divided into 5 clans, each rulled by 5 councilmen, who in turn, look to 5 high councilmen, who enforce the laws and rules.
The 5 clans each represent and are made to do specific jobs. Mining and Smithing, Warriors, Guides(Leaders), Builders and Civil Servants(cleaners), and a newly emerging clan, working on Alchemic Magic.
With the emergence of the Singular Generation, their Void energy can be used in a different way. With the discovery of their ability to use Alchemy, tests of shown that void energy can be used to as a payment for Equivalent Exchange, depending of what is wanted, a set amount of void energy must be taken, but Cimex only have a set amount, once depleted, they must wait a few days before the producing organ to make more.
These changes has served as a huge distraction for the Cimex, but slowly but surely, the Cimex are showing the same traits as humans. Capable of showing emotions, working for the good of society, a government based on that concept, and a new magic exclusive to them and their abilities. But worry not, the Cimex have not lost their Warrior roots, all Cimex who are born in this era, are first being trained as warriors before being sent off to another clan to be trained in that.
With the sudden appearance of of volcanos in Orabakhian land in between Gorilla land and Ruigh, Cimex have been utilizing Chimera to colonize these lands, specifically avoiding the realm of the dead. These volcanos are not active, but a large population of Cimex and already createing city's in the craters of said volcanos, the Cimex are quickly becoming conformable in the land, but no relations with humans or the dead have been made, but any human who walks into Cimexian lands have been tortured and sent back, mind shattered.
Chapter 4: Ascension of the Uri Part 1
Uri, a species of plant like people who rule the eastern half of Arguilla, and have colonized all land in between The Dead realm and Brightwood. Although they have not experienced any psychological or physical changes like the Cimex have been undergoing, the Uri have been making many technological advances, such as large boats, under the rule of the celestial blessed King Duisis II, the Uri have prospered.
After successfully annexing Garakai and the freeing of the souls held their with the utilization of Soul Weaving. As was planned, a huge Soulwoven Iron Wall was raised, dividing the border between them and the human realm on Arguilla. This Iron Wall was not just meant for defensive reasons, but for energy also. Inside the great wall, are large enchanted copper blocks. The enchanted iron is made to take the scalding heat that it takes from the sun on its surface, and have the copper blocks inside absorb it and store it. Making the blocks extremely hot, and the iron cool.
But this is just the tip of the iceberg. The Uri created batistas, huge crossbows mounted on top of Wall, armed with a lifting hitch and pivot, allowing it to be lifted up over the base and aimed without moving the whole contraption, capable of shorts 15 bolts in 10 seconds. On the inside of the batista, is a plethora of gears allowing it to be semi automatic, also know as a repeating batista. This whole contraption can be maned by 2 Uri, one to reload once the magazine was finished, and another to fire. But this whole thing was powered by what is called Solar thermal energy. The heat absorbing enchanted cooper blocks, are placed inside and object, which now releases and transforms the heat into work or energy to power the object, such as in this case, the gears inside the batista.
This whole process is a complicated one, created by the Uri who follow the path of Knowledge. The Uri have created many weapon prototyoes with the Temple of Soul Weaving, and are now looking to create household items powered my STE. Despite this whole concept still in it's infant stages, the King has funded this project, and the Temple, wanting to create more technology, and slowly gaining a better understanding over both the magical, and scientific properties of Soul Weaving.
This has not been the only discover over the past 80 years. After the Demigod Ull'yang blessed the Uri with Hyperphotosyntisis, a new path has been created called the of Solari. Uri who wish to follow this path worship this demigod and train this ability from childhood, studying and understanding the limits of this skill. The Solarian Monks of Uri who follow this path and have mastered this ability. They are revered and looked up to just as much as Soul Weavers are.
The Uri have colonized all lands that have not been claimed to the eest in between The Dead Realm and Brightwood the land named Duisis, after the name of the capital back on Arguilla, which is being moved. Relations with humans have been well received. The Uri help humans in anyway they can, but keep this magic and technology secret, at least for the time being.
Vestec had been quite the busy little bee. Almost as soon as the Garakains began returning to their land after The Great Carnage, they began praying for Vestec to deliver them from under Dusis's heel and bring back Viscardi their greatest leader. After a brief talk with Astarte too make the capital's guardians less xenophobic, and dealing with the damn itch that returned, (specifically, Aztoc, Viscardi, and a few select others located at Garakai's various gates have to let you in the capital or the Wraiths will rise and tear you to shreds.) Vestec took the entire population of Garakai and their cities, leaving all their building materials for said cities, and moved them to Southern Orabakh. The cities were still there, just with new stone and wood and metal for what made them. Viscardi and all his dragon riders were taken as well, and Garakai rejoiced. Their empire would be rebuilt again.
In addition to all the Garakains, the corrupted Cimex, a couple thousand of Corrupted Chimeras, The Chaos Dragons, a portion of the Vork, a portion of the Bodi, and the Barbed Uri were all moved to New Garakai. Vestec quickly corrupted the nearby Serpent Men and the nearby Brightwood Dragon Adepts. He didn't want to have New Garakai be destroyed, after all. They all agreed to be under Viscardi's rule, and he wasted no time. Fortifications were built, armies were trained, and the Twins began incorporating this new Mithril into Garakai's armies. Vestec bestowed one last gift upon the Garakains, a holy Order built for war. The Chaos Knights(basic Armor appearance is like that, though the horns are optional) were born. Most of New Garakai's young men and women flocked to the Order. Not all were accepted and under Viscardi's watchful eye, they became the terrifying infantry force he needed them to be. With Garakai's Dragon Knights, the Dark Cimex, the Barbed Uri, and all their other allies and soldiers, New Garakai pushed suddenly and violently into Brightwoods territory. Vestec's Avatar aided them, at times tearing through armies with Violence, at others corrupting entire broods of dragons with Corruption. The Twins began working on the new designs and technology the Uri had, stolen by Vestec, with a few corrupted Uri to report back on any more advancements.
Viscardi, rather than expanding into the Kharigits and Ruhig kingdom, made an alliance with the nomadic tribes. They would gather slaves and sell them to Garakai. In return, they would be allowed free roaming throughout New Garkai and would be allowed to capture slaves from Garakai's raids. Rumors of the remaining humans in Arguilla needing slaves reached Viscardi, and with Vestec's aid (specifically corrupting some Mer men), he managed to send a delegation over and set up a trade with the Zealots as well. He didn't care that they were serving Ialu. They had gold, and the war was continuing ever on. However, as Sviebard began to feel the wrath of Thulemiz, and Chaos began to overpower Orabakh, Vestec decided to make a slight...change.
Vestec, God of Chaos, Execrable Chaos/The Execrable One Level 5, 17 Might &
Standing before the men, Thormar explaineed to them what needed to be done. The previous night had made it all too clear that they were up against a most terrifying and furious foe, and they needed to be well prepared. 'Find the biggest and strongest trees. Stick together and keep a good number of you on watch at all times,' his gaze ran over them, 'I don't want a single one of you to be taken. Is that understood?' he roared, and the men replied in kind, giving a roar of approval. 'Aringar, the men are yours to lead. They are a weighty responsibility and it is your duty to bring them all back,' the huge, red-headed man Aringar was nodded, a determined look on his face.
'Fear not, Chief, as you command us, so shall it be done!' and with that, he raised his axe upwards and shouted for the men to follow him. They were a disorganised rabble, for Sviebard had seen no great wars necessitating marching in an orderly fashion. Thormar only hoped they would return safely. He turned away and began making his way back into the village, wondering to himself how the threat would actively be dealt with. They certainly could not just build walls and hide behind them...
"They're all going to die, you know. This very morning, most likely. Unless you're lucky and Thulemiz is busy with his forces somewhere else." Vestec's voice spoke cheerfully behind and slightly above Thormar. The God of Chaos was in person to chat with the chieftan, albeit in a weaker form as was commanded. His colors were still their bright and ever changing selves, but he jumped rather than teleported down off of the roof.
"You know nothing of war. Death. Ruthless sacrifice. Thulemiz has waged many of the first, is quite intimate with the second, and the third has no meaning to him. He is The Great Lich Lord, ruler of the Ghoul Lord you met and far more powerful. He has hordes of undead at his command, and five more like him only slightly less powerful. Left unchecked, he will sweep over your tribe and all others like a foul storm of death and chaos, claiming Sviebard as his own."
"The other Gods do not seem interested in stopping him. Escre has gone to the stars. Ferghus just wants payment for whatever he creates. Vowzra is...Vowzra. If he gets involved, you can bet it will benefit him or his in some way and Thulemiz is still partially his. Sorry. It will benefit Fate in some way. Undasis is asleep. Both the rage of the Kraken and the love of the Woman of the Waters are out of your reach. Astarte isn't interested in this type of thing and alas none of you are interesting enough for her to take note.
"Arguis is busy building his little empires with the Uri, plant people, and the Cimex, bug people. Sauranath only cares about Ialu and his people in Orabakh. Your cries will be ignored in favor of his selected humans. Before you cry 'Svieand, he who brought us here will save us!', he won't. He has either withdrawn from this world entirely or has died, I don't know or care which."
"As for Demi-gods...Ialu is going to be a ruthless tyrant rather than a savior. Kanros is allied with Thulemiz. Ull'yang, Eroneus, and Roxan are all gone to the stars with Escre. Ravenna sleeps, disinterested in this world." Vestec's colors on his mask coalesced into a smirk. "That leaves only one God: me. Vestec, the Execrable One/Chaos. The God of Chaos, The Devil, The Sword with No Hilt, depending on who you ask. I am here to help. I will give you not only the knowledge to fight Thulemiz, but the powers and the skills. You and your tribe will be the beginning of a new order, the order that stands against the tides of Chaos. So, are you going to accept or do you have questions?"
Thormar had not time to be surprised by the appearance of the strange being, for it began talking immediately. It mentioned many names he had never heard before and quickly forgot once it had passed over them. The ones that did stick in his mind were two; Thulemiz and Vestec. His people often spoke of Sveiand, but to them he was now a mere legend, a creation story their fathers had rather liked. Thormar had never believed in the existence of Sveiand, let along any others. He did not let the sudden up-turning of his understanding of the world faze him however.
'That's all very good,' he said, brushing the god's words to the side as though they meant nothing to him, 'but tell me, what do you stand to gain from helping us. As you say, you are the god of chaos, and this Great Lich Lord leads your chaotic hordes; why would you want to help those standing in his way?' Thormar leaned on his staff and eyed the strange being and allowing himself to note that its aura was not at all to his liking. Did he truly want the help of this...thing, even if it spoke truth and this Thulemiz would truly wipe them out.
"Why are all mortals so distrusting? I remember a time when you would have taken my offer without a second thought, smiling as you did so! Alas, the Dyun changed that." Vestec giggled before addressing Thormar's question. "What I gain from this is very simple: more chaos. Thulemiz can't have everything go so smoothly with his endeavors. I have no favorites. We can help each other. You want to keep your people from becoming undead monstrosities. I want Thulemiz to face an opponent and an army who actually doesn't serve me in some way. Who hates me and all I represent."
"As the other Gods don't seem interested in putting up more than a paltry effort, I have to take matters into my own hands. You get all this power and knowledge, you're free to hate me and my creations and destroy them, and all I ask is that you fight against Thulemiz to the death."
Vestec held out a hand for Thormar to shake. "Are you going to accept, or will I save dear little Inkeri from your suspicious filled foolishness and hope she listens better. You and I both don't want to see her turned into an undead monster."
Thormar swallowed and sighed, admitting his defeat in this regard.
'Very well,' he said, beginning to reach out before stopping his hand, 'but I want you to promise me one thing. A promise you shall not break, no matter what,' he looked towards the god, determination in his eyes.
'Promise me that, if we take this that you offer, promise me that the Wrolfin tribe will prosper in these lands, that our women and children and elderly will not be made to suffer, ever. Not at the hands of Thulemiz or any other. Promise me this and I shall gladly take what you give,' his hand outstretched towards the god, he waited for him to seal it with a handshake.
Vestec's colors shifted to a pure white as he grasped the old man's hand. His voice came strong and sure, completely different from before. "Your tribe will prosper in this land, your women, children, and elderly will not suffer. Should you lose this war, and your tribe be overran, your women, children, and eldery will be taken away to a safe location to rebuild their lives and perhaps prepare to avenge your death. So I vow, as one of the Gods of Galbar." His grip tightened on Thormar's hand, preventing the human from letting go.
"But you will promise me this. You will wage war upon Thulemiz and all his kind. Where the Forces of Chaos reside, you will eradicate them. You will be the hounds at Thulemiz and his ilk's heels, forever snapping and snarling, swarming and massacring those you catch. Those who worship my might will be destroyed. You can make it as slow or as quick as you desire, I care not. But you will do everything in your power to eradicate Chaos from this land, and then further on as Chaos starts new wars. This is your vow, your order's creed."
Knowledge and power began to transfer into Thormar's mind and body. Magics, known and unknown filled his head. Battle plans, fighting styles, ways to kill mortal and undead alike, danced in his mind's eye. When the transfer was done, Vestec let go of Thormar's hand and backed away, wretching, as his chaotic colors returned. "By Invictus and Fate above! Is that what Order is like? That was the single worst experience in my life. How do you stand that?" He shook his hand, as if burned, and looked at it. "Oh great. Forever marked. Lovely." Indeed, the symbol of Wrolfin was burned in that same white light onto the God's hand.
Thormar stared at Vestec with wide eyes, but did not see him, his mind overwhelmed by the sheer amount of knowledge and power filling his every fibre. He could already feel his old body changing ever so slightly, from that knowledge alone, becoming more well-suited to battling the forces of Chaos. He trembled slightly before his knees gave out and he fell to the ground, only to wince in pain as his palm hit the earth. Turning it up, he found that on his palm, too, was the herlad of the tribe, except it was slightly changed. As the work of the god began to take root, Thormar stood up and looked at Vestec, his eyes colder than ever before.
'You have come, and you have done what you have done, Harbinger of Havoc,' he said, 'and now begone, for I cannot stand your presence for even a second more,' he held on tightly to his staff, though he no longer needed it to walk, barely restraining the powers surging through him from bursting out and doing what they were created to do: destroy chaos wherever it was. What greater chaos was there, after all, than the very god of chaos himself?
He could already sense the other beings in the forest, the ones waiting to prey on his men. He had to be with them, but he could not go until he watched ths Harbinger depart - he may have given his promise, but who would trust that? Certainly not Thormar.
"Go forth, First of the Wrolfin Furies, Bane of Chaos. Your enemy awaits. Do not think yourself alone in your fight. Brothers and Sisters in Brightwood will await you, should you survive this war. Hold strong for years, and allies will appear to trade with you. For now, pray to Ferghus to arm you and your brethren. You will need it." Vestec spoke softly, the mark on his palm flaring, and then he was gone.
With Vestec gone, Thormar turned away and began making his way down the hill and towards the great group heading for the forest. A few stragglers looking back spotted him and the group waited until he had reached them. Together, they headed for the forest, with Thormar in the lead. Though his men knew not what had brought the herald of the Wrolfin on their palms, the presence of Thormar calmed them and his mental voice assuring them and giving them orders ensured that, even now, they became more organised.
Though the dead could not scream, Thormar heard their wails as their bodies were burnt to nothingness by beams of Kogleri and their souls returned to wherever it was their masters dwelled. With their new-found magical abilities, the wall did not take more than a few days, and they made short-work of a trench around it - this Vistoc was truly powerful. At the same time, Thormar called for the Council of the Wrolfin to convene and began planning the changes that would be required to face-off against the coming hordes of the dead.
-Thormar sent some of his tribe out to get large trees to defend the village.
-Vestec appeared, and informed him that all the men he sent out were going to die, and all of Sviebard was going to be crushed under Thulemiz's heel unless Thormar took his offer and gained powers to fight against Chaos and Undead.
-Thormar agreed, only if Vestec promised to make Wrolfin tribe prosperous, and protect their women, children, and elderly. Vestec agreed, only if Thormar promised to fanatically hunt down any and all chaos in Sviebard and the world. Thormar agreed, and recieved all the power that Vestec promised. The Wrolfin Furies were born, and the herald of Wrolfin was burned onto Vestec's palm, in a never changing white color. (Even on his avatar, and his full godly presence). Thormar was similarly marked, and thus were The Wrolfin Furies created.
-Vestec gave Thormar knowledge of all the magics (excluding Shadow Magic, Chaos Magic, Dimok, and Necromancy) that mortals possess (and humans can use without special items. So he can't use the Lifeblood of the SC, the Hyper Photosynthesis of the Uri, or the Living Metal manipulation of the Iron Legion, in addition to the magics mentioned above).
-Vestec also gave Thormar a new magic. Kogleri is the exact opposite of Chaos Magic. And when they clash, explosions happen. It can be used to make barriers, heal or rejuvanate allies, bless weapons to be more effective against undead and chaos servants, or simply be sent as a beam to destroy Chaos. It only harms chaos, it should be noted. A blast of Kogleri will simply go through a bandit.
-Vestec left to do the same in Brightwoods, creating the Brightguard (or so the average knight looks. The cloak is easily removable. Also, the Wrolfin Furies and the Brightguard are the same order, just different names and regions) to oppose Viscardi's growing empire. His other palm was marked with the Brightwoods symbol (a glowing white tree)
-2 might spent, 15 might left.
Soon after that, Vestec created another race on Arguilla. One that would make good use of the Cimex's tunnels, and make more of them. The Rovaick quickly expanded throughout the Cimex's underground land, blessed with a population increase by Vestec. Rather than war, however, the Trolls of the Rovaick managed to strike up an alliance and trade agreements with them. They did the same with all the races currently on Arguilla, giving them what the needed from the earth and whatever else they could gain. They began busily mining under the ocean, intent upon connecting all the lands. Currently they've made landfall in Sviebard, and have a minor city set up on the surface for anyone who wants to trade. They're halfway to Orabakh right now.
Too give Sakimi something to do and presence in the world, Vestec granted her an Order of Assassins the Crimson Tears. Everyone has someone they want dead, after all.
-Vestec leveled up, -10 might.
-Vestec moved Garakai and all it's inhabitants, with Viscardi and his dragon riders, too Orabakh. The curse upon Aztoc and his 1000 friends has been tweaked to allow people that are allowed in to enter the capital without being murdered.
-Vestec moved all the Chaos Dragons, the Dark Cimex, the Barbed Uri, the Vork, the Bodi, and a large chunk of the Iron Legion and their Visceral Seeps to New Garakai's location, where they agreed to serve New Garakai. Vestec then corrupted Serpent Men, and Brightwoods Dragon Adepts, increasing Viscardi's military might. He then blessed the whole lot with a population increase. (-1)
-Vestec created the Chaos Knights for Viscardi(-1 might), and helped Garakai with his avatar attack Brightwoods. Broods were corrupted entirely, armies shattered. Then the Avatar stopped helping, and Vestec helped Sviebard and Brightwoods battle against the forces of chaos, creating the Wrolfin Furies/Brightguard in Sviebard and Brightwoods respectively along with giving them Kogleri(-2 might). He's still corrupting and killing dragons that aren't chaos dragons, though.
-Vestec created the Crimson Tears, an order of assassins overseen by Sakimi. -1 might
-Vestec stole the designs and current creations of the Uri and gave them to Garakai, leaving a few corrupted Uri behind to report any more inventions.
-Vestec created the Rovaick, a merchant race that lives underground. -1 might
-Vestec corrupted a number of the Mer men, who then aligned with Viscardi, giving Garakai a considerable presence in the ocean.
-Viscardi allied with the Kharigit, buying slaves from them and selling the females to the Zealots.
-Garakai is currently slowly pushing into the remaining Brightwoods territory, stopped by unexpected Brightwoods resistance and the arrival of the Brightguard.
The Great Spirit hung in space. Not far away were fields of asteroids and barren planets, between which shined an ethereal blue sun. For some time now, though time meant little to it as a divine being, it had planned this for its entourage. It had traveled a long way with the three demigods of air, light, and death. As it turned out, the universe beyond Galbar had not been empty. It had been full of wonder. Working together with Escre or under its guidance, the three demigods had taken part in that wonder themselves. There had been great creation, the bestowing of life, air, and light on uncountable worlds. At first, Roxan had been recalcitrant, not sure of her role in all this. Escre had said to her before long: ”For mortals, death seems like the end. For those with knowledge of the bigger picture, however, death is a beginning. It is a part in a cycle. Just as you have the power to end, you also have the power to begin.”
The demigods hadn't been the only ones learning, however. In the course of the adventure thus far, Escre had made two Holy Sites: the Bastion called Winter Rose with the core and the Bastion called Green Conquest. In each of these installations had been sparked the singularities Whirling Exile and Awakening, respectively. It was in Green Conquest, however, that Escre had become knowledgeable in another subject, courtesy of its companions: accomplishment and celebration. Then and there, it had decided it would find a way to celebrate a crowning achievement of their in the future. Now was the time.
”Now.”
At Escre's bidding, the demigods opened their eyes. Before them in space floated a great fortress, one not inhabited by Escre's deathless guardians, but by creatures like humans with pointed ears and yellowish skin. Flying around this colossal port were ships, much like those one would expect to find back on Galbar, but with certain modifications. At their centers were Arcane Hubs, allowing them to fly through space as a mundane boat through water. As a side effect, they emitted trails of nebula gas that caught the azure sunlight and refracted it into fantastic colors. It was, Escre thought, an incredible sight. ”Compared to some of our combined works, I know it must not seem altogether impressive. It is proof, however, that not only have I assisted you on the path to godhood, but you have helped me as well. Thanks to you three, I believe I have developed a sense of 'creativity'. It was on this day, eighty years after our departure, a decade each for all the gods, even those asleep, that I wished to 'celebrate' with you. Let me share with you, if you would, the extent of this creativity!”
Recently, Escre had taken on a new form when it didn't wish to appear in its full form. In its book it sketched ideas and kept records, and from it papers flew to assemble its wings. Now, it flew a little closer to the fortress. ”These beings are the Voyagers. They are not purehearted, or evil, but a balance of both. When I made them, I kept from them definitive proof of the existence of gods. I want them to grow and develop and try to figure out the mysteries of lives for themselves. If I got involved, they'd focus too much on me and not on themselves. Instead, they travel the stars in an imitation of our own celestial journey, seeking out new and incredible things, for whatever reason matters to the individual. Within is a burning desire to explore and chart the unknown. Someday, they may even sail to Galbar.”
Escre flew back up to where the demigods waited. ”Until now I have been somewhat firm in guiding you. Now, however, for the second half of your journey to godhood, you will lead and I will follow. What is it you wish to do?'
-Escre and the demigods have been in space, traveling, observing, creating, destroying, understanding, and learning. -Two new Holy Sites were created as part of Escre's plan, the Bastions called Winter Rose and Green Conquest. That, coupled with Forever Fall and the Astral Home, brings the total to four. -To celebrate is attainment of creativity, Escre created the Voyagers, a race of space sailors
Might 10 might spent to level up 12 might spent to create the Bastion called Winter Rose, with the singularity Exile 12 might spent to create the Bastion called Green Conquest, with the singularity Awakening 2 might spent to increase the capabilities and understanding of Ull'yang, Eroneus, and Roxan Inherent powers used a lot to create life, including the Voyagers 1 free point spent to define the Voyager society 0 might remain 1 free point remains
The Great Lich Lord had descended upon Sviebard, and with him descended terror and carnage unlike anything the people of Sviebard had ever seen. So great was the catastrophe that in future, when the Great Lich Lord was long gone, people would know this era simple as The Lich Years. The annals of Sviebardian history have no record of how the Great Lich Lord came to be or from whence he came, they simply know that one day there was no Lich, and then there was.
In the beginning, the tribes of Sviebard did not give the disappearances that were occurring too much attention. The fortified their towns and villages and trained their people to fight better and use their icy magics more proficiently. Other than the Wrolfin, however, none took the threat too seriously. Thormar of the Wrolfin attempted to mount a united effort against the Lich, but the tribes, jealous of the Wrolfin's powers and more fearful of them than of any 'Lich' whose very existence was questionable.
Thormar did not allow himself to be defeated by the petty tribal mentality of other Sviebardians and continued to appeal to them, but it was of no use. For five years did he prepare his people and train them, for five years did the ghouls prey on the tribes, and for five years did the Great Lich Lord lie in wait and prepare.
Thormar had ordered his men to keep watch on the activities of the Lich, and they had long ago discovered that the vile creature had built a large, fortified town in the north of Sviebard, wherein dwelled, as far as Thormar's scouts could tell, a group of humans whose number came at a few hundred. However, what was more worrying was the great citadel the Lich had built into the side of a mountain not too far from the town. His Furies had reported that the place was seeped in necromantic energies and all those townspeople who died were brought there. Moreover, they had often detected disturbances in the earth during the night and arrived to find groups of dead Sviebardians making for the citadel.
The Lich dwelled in this mountain citadel, for the Furies could sense his presence when watching the area, though he had never been seen. Only the ghouls were seen as they went about the tasks set for them by their undead master. There were others, of course. The town was overseen by a giant, armour-clad man whose presence was unlike anything the Furies could understand. His was not a chaotic or even a necromantic presence. In fact, there was about him an aura which suggested the very opposite, though the Furies could not understand why such a creature would side with the Lich. There was also the huge man with impossible power who had about him the markings of a divine being, and like the armour-clad man, the Furies could not understand why he sided with the Lich.
As it were, the Lich's years of preparation were soon to come to an end, and Sviebard would feel the terrible grip of death upon it.
The Wrolfin Furies prepare and attempt to unite the Sviebardian tribes, to no avail. Wrolfin scouts discover that the Lich has built a fortified town as well as a great citadel.
***
After the completion of the citadel Purgatos Sepulcha, which took two years, the Great Lich Lord had not left the gigantic tomb-citadel. His days and nights were spent in eternal wakefulness and his experimentation knew no end. In his bid to create the purest and most sanctified of creatures, which embody the ultimate, untainted absolution of death, he had worked long and hard and no living being laid eyes upon him for those three years of work. The Silent Six, now reduced to five, did not see so much as a shadow of him, and Cassios, Rejys and Kanros - who were left to their own devices in Kathar - heard nothing of him.
No one bar the undead ghouls dared enter Purgatus Sepulcha, and a group of them had been assigned the task of delivering the dead to the citadel where they were entombed. The Ghoul Lords Akenaten and Sapthah were themselves among the first to be experimented upon and had slowly begun to change over the years. By the dawn of the fifth year, two had become completely different beings from ghouls. Unlike the grotesque mockeries of death's purity that ghouls were - indeed, the Great Lich had grown to despise those tainted creatures - the two Ghoul Lords had grown into refined, pale, pure-skinned creatures of monumental necromantic energies. The Great Lich Lord dubbed them 'vampires' and saw them as an embodiment of deathly purity - almost as pure as him. No longer were they the Ghoul Lords, but Vampire Paragons Akhenaten and Sapthah.
Indeed, along with the Ghoul Lords, the Lich had also experimented upon himself, for he was well-aware of the taint of chaos within him, and though Vowzra had subdued this chaos and integrated it into the Lich so that it could hardly be called 'chaos' anymore, the Lich was not pleased with this offensive impurity within it. For the Great Lich Lord was the very embodiment of that deathly absolution and could not stand to know that its own perfection was compromised. Through the years, it worked on the chaotic influences within it until it had completely expunged it. The mute child was ever by its side.
The Lich recorded all experiments and wrote long tomes on its thoughts and ideas, shelving them in the Sepulchalibraria, which was now home to the writings of Zerabil, Thulemiz and the Great Lich Lord himself. It also hosted many treasures, from the remains of various Dyun, Cimex (at various stages of their evolution) and armours of the Vowzra's Victors which the Silent Six had managed to salvage. Among them were the remains of Thulemiz's armour and his helmet, from the Battle of Man's Fall, which Greyus had taken when he had raided Ialu's home, along with various other things from the warlord's home - such as the destroyed remains of the Dyun Champion's head.
The experimentation and writing continued, even after the fifth year, but the fifth year dawned with the Lich suddenly wishing to see death spread beyond its mountain tomb...
The Lich was experimenting on the Ghoul Lords, turning them into Vampire Paragons. It experimented on itself, ridding itself of chaos. It wrote much. It ordered an attack on the Sviebardians.
***
Year the 5th of The Lich Years
Akhenaten commanded the ghouls forth as the great undead horde advanced upon the tribes. The ghouls, numbering a thousand or more, rushed forward to scout and ravage the land before them in preparation for the main force. Two thousand skeleton soldiers made up the back-bone of the horde while Battle Brother Rejys led five hundred Wights - the resurrected Victors. The Great Lich Lord had experimented long on the bodies of the dead and had often sent one Silent Brother or another to gather up any remains of the Victors from the battlefield and Ialu's field of death. It was rather lucky that the Strong Tribe did not merely leave the bodies to rot into the earth, for their decision to put them on display or bury them in mounds meant that parts were fairly easy to find.
Mixing the dead remains of Victors with reinforced corpses which the Lich had personally constructed created rather powerful vessels for souls, and the Lich decided to imbue the souls of the Victors with some of that strange energy dragon souls had before implanting the souls into the bodies and raising them. Unlike other undead, the Victors were completely sentient. Their memories and personalities from their life remained and many of them were surprised to find that they had been raised as undead. They were sent to Kathar where Rejys took over and was granted the title of Grandmaster - though he insisted that his Victors continue calling him Battle Brother.
This force of undead, led by Vampire Paragon Akhenaten and Battle Brother Rejys decimated the Sviebardian tribes in the east, the Gnanrir and Bronji. Of the Gnanrir and Bronji, whose population had risen to one thousand six hundred and one thousand one hundred respectively, only six hundred managed to escape the massacre and found refuge in Wrolfin lands. Akhenaten raised the two thousand one hundred dead and marched the swollen ranks of the undead horde east against the Fradin Tribal Confederation, made up of the Azenii, the Fradin and the Fradin-Grez.
News of The Slaughter in the west had reached the Confederation and they had quickly prepared themselves, allying with the Wrolfin and hatching up a plan to halt the advancing horde. The Confederate forces, made up of three hundred Azenii, five hundred Fradin and two hundred Fradin-Grez, met the undead horde on the frozen plains of Mirka, with the Mirkan hills to the south covering the advance of one thousand three hundred Wrolfin Furies.
The Confederate forces acted as the bait, allowing for the Furies to strike at the rear and right flank of the undead horde, dealing the forces of the Lich a catastrophic defeat at The Battle of Mirka. The blasts of holy Kogleri vapourised the undead and sent their souls screaming back to their master, ensuring that the corpses were nothing but dust and thus unusable by the Lich. Rather than burying those who died in the battle, the Wrolfin demanded that they be cremated so that they would not rise again to fight against them.
Of the one thousand ghouls that set out for Mirka, only three hundred returned, while the previously two thousand strong skeleton force was decimated to nine hundred, and the force of raised Gnanrir and Bronji was reduced from two thousand one hundred to eight hundred, while the Victors suffered no losses. The Confederates lost, of their total one thousand strong army, a good five hundred while the Wrolfin did not lose a single Fury. This first undead advance came to known as The First Undead Horde.
The First Undead Horde occurs - an attack on the Sviebardian tribes which sees the Gnanrir and Bronji lands seized by the Lich, known as The Slaughter. The First Horde is defeated at the Battle of Mirka.
***
Year the 6th of The Lich Years
The Second Undead Horde struck a year later. Using speed and the power of surprise, the horde, this time led by Vampire Paragon Sapthah, quickly swept aside the Fradin Tribal Confederation, and the numbers who managed to escape were minuscule. With five hundred ghouls and a one thousand seven hundred strong skeleton force, as well as the Victors and the one thousand four hundred Confederate tribals who were raised as zombies.
For the year between the First and Second Undead Horde, the Lich had fortified the new border and established control over the newly conquered land. Forts were set up and skeleton forces were stationed along the border, while strategic port towns were populated with undead as well as citizens of Kathar, where they begun work on a fleet.
Upon learning of the destruction of the Confederate tribes, the Wrolfin Furies prepared to strike back. A month after the Second Undead Horde, a force of one thousand five hundred Wrolfin Furies struck into ex-Confederate land and managed to push the undead out until the entirety of the south-eastern coast of the Sviebardian island was under Wrolfin control. After the tremendous victory, dubbed The Furious Advance, a Tribal Council convened, partially due to the death of Thormar, and it was agreed - with a great amount of forcefulness from the Wrolfin - that the other tribes would be dissolved and absorbed into the Wrolfin.
With that done, seventy four years of constant conflict between the Wrolfin and the Realm of the Dead began in which the Lich could not so much as drive the Wrolfin one inch back. The Furies conducted many operations behind enemy lines, but their foe was mighty indeed and it seemed like they were simply attempting to hold back the crashing waves of an eternal sea.
The Second Undead Horde occurs and the rest of the Sveibardian tribes are crushed, otherthan the Wrolfin. Decades of conflict between the dead realms and the Wrolfin ensue.
***
Year the 17th of The Lich Years
A strange tremor beneath the earth had the Wrolfin on high alert for a number of weeks, suspecting that the Lich was planning some kind of surprise attack from beneath the very earth. The Lich had, according to reports, built a huge fleet and advanced upon the second Sviebardian island to the east. There was no information available to the Furies on what had befallen those living there. Reports also confirmed that the Lich's forces had landed on the great continent to the west and were busy expanding their Realm of the Dead in that direction, where a small tribal kingdom had formed from those Sviebardians who had landed there and the indigenous population.
The underground tremors soon grew stronger and the area where the tremors were most focused were surrounded and placed under heavy guard. Within a few days, strange creatures spouted forth from the earth. While they were undoubtedly creations of the Harbinger of Chaos, the creatures did not appear to be chaotic per se. The Wrolfin entered negotiations with them and agreed to have them set up a settlement above the tunnel they had created.
As the months dragged on, trade between the Wrolfin and Rovaick began and the precious, high quality metals provided by the strange creatures proved most useful in the forging of even better armour for the Wrolfin Furies. The metals were far more susceptible to Kogleri blessings and enchantments, creating for far more powerful Kogleri-enhanced weapons and armours. The Wrolfin also hatched up an agreement with the Rovaick that once their tunnels connected to the great continent to the west the Wrolfin would be given free use of them.
The Lich may control the Sviebardian seas, thus preventing any attacks on the forces of chaos and death beyond Sveibard, but once these tunnels were complete, chaos everywhere would feel Wrolfin fury...
The Wrolfin meet the Rovaick and trade happens. Rovaick promise the Wrolfin free usage of their tunnels once the one to Orabakh is complete.
***
In the eleven years since the The Furious Advance, the Lich had looked to advance elsewhere. By the seventh year a great fleet had been created and a small expedition was sent eastwards to the second of the Sviebardian islands. The expedition landed and found there a tough people who very quickly dispatched them, so a greater force was sent by the Lich, only to find that a powerful ward had been created around the entirety of the island, preventing the undead from landing, or even sailing too close.
Unfazed by this setback, the fleet sailed westwards and landed on the north-eastern shores of Orabakh, where the Kingdom of Zabolia had formed, led by a High Chief Kraros. Their's was a very tribal society, though they had great respect for their High Chief and his position generally prevented any disputes. The Great Lich Lord commanded Kanros to go forth and kidnap this High Chief. When the man was brought before the Lich, he seized the man's soul and drew it from his body before raising him once more as nothing but a puppet.
With this, the Lich used the High Chief to procure the unconditional surrender of the kingdom and annexing it. In the beginning the tribals were not too keen on the sudden influx of skeletons from across the sea, but as they mingled more and more with Katharians, they quickly grew accustomed to the situation. The Great Lich Lord thus managed to greatly expand his farm of living beings. While it was indeed painful having to tolerate such imperfect beings in his realm, it was necessary for the constant supply of corpses for his experiments and undead horde.
By the seventeenth year, the Realm of the Dead has expanded far into the new continent, largely into empty lands devoid of much civilisation, with the odd group of Kharigit Horse People passing through. Finding himself growing rather bored of expanding into unoccupied land, the Lich decided to put a stop to the expansion and instead stationed its armies at the border with the Wrolfin. Handing over the reins of power to the Vampire Paragons, the Great Lich Lord left his mountain tomb for the first time in fifteen years and, along with his mute shadow, made for the flying library of the god of knowledge - Alma'Toren.
The Realm of the Dead expands. The undead attack Kuro and friends. The Great Lich Lord leaves for Arguis' library.
***
Year the 77th of The Lich Years
Nothing had been heard from the Lich since his disappearance decades ago. The Vampire Paragons had ruled the Realms of the Dead in his place and their territories had continued expanding slowly. The kingdom of the Uri. Duisis, had grown tremendously on the new continent and it now shared a border with the Realm of the Dead. A few skirmishes had taken place between them, but it seemed that there strange soul-weaving was particularly well-suited against necromancy, as was necromancy against it, creating something of an immediate stalemate.
The Silent Six had long planned to take care of the Lich and had bidden their time. Over the Lich' decades of absence they had prepared well, establishing communications with the Wrolfin - who were suspicious at first - as well as stoking hatred for the undead among the living subjects of the Lich. By the seventy seventh year, they were ready to set into motion the toppling of the Lich and the destruction of his realms.
The rebellion began with the defection of two hundred and sixty one Victors, as well as Rejys and the Seers, while two hundred and forty refused to defect and remained loyal to the Lich. At the same time, the capital of the former-kingdom of Zabolia, Cyrnaq, rose up in revolt, along with Sviebard's main port town, Ganinborg. The populations of the two towns were one thousand four hundred and one thousand one hundred respectively, and were by far the most populous settlements in the Realm.
With the defection of half the Victors to their side, the Wrolfin Furies immediately mounted the assault they had been preparing, striking out with two forces of two thousand northward and westward. The army marching west would march to Ganinborg, where it would reinforce the rebels there and prepare a force to sail over the water to aid the rebels in Curnaq. Meanwhile, the one striking northwards would capture Kathar and strike at the Lich's citadel.
The Vampire Paragons reacted with shocking speed to the rebellion, both of them raising a horde and marching out to meet the two Wrolfin forces. Each had at his command a force of two thousand ghouls, three thousand skeletons as well as one hundred and twenty Victors. Sapthah took his forces south, but was too late to prevent the Furies from entering Ganinborg and was forced to lay siege to the town. Without a fleet, however, the Vampire Paragon could only watch as the rebel forces boarded what was once the Lich's fleet and set sail for the new continent.
Akhenaten was more successful due to the proximity of Kathar. Upon finding that the humans there harboured rebellious thoughts, he put the entire town's population of three hundred humans to the sword, before raising them as zombies and continuing south to meet the Wrolfin on the Plains of Mirka.
Out-numbered by the five thousand four hundred and twenty strong Undead Horde, the two thousand strong Wrolfin force did not seem in a very powerful position, but the Battle of Mirta's Furies ended with an overwhelming victory for the Wrolfin forces, who obliterated the undead from a distance with blast after blast of Kogleri. One thousand three hundred of the ghouls met their demise while the entire skeleton and zombie force was crushed. Those Victors who had sided with the Lich were kept out of the battle, but were quick to withdraw when the Vampire Paragon met his demise at the end of a Kogleri-enchanted great-sword.
The Wrolfin force, with no more than twenty losses, gave chase until the Victors reached Purgatos Sepulcha and fortified themselves within. With no visible entrance and mighty wards placed on the place prevent magical attack from affecting it, all the Wrolfin force could do was camp outside the citadel and wait.
Further south, the port of Ganinborg was soon stormed by Sapthah. Being the far more intelligent and ruthless of the two Vampire Paragons, he made relatively short work of the defenders. Five hundred Wrolfin Furies were crushed and raised again, while the one thousand one hundred population of Ganinborg was also called back from the dead by the Paragon. Well aware of his brother's defeat by this point, he decided to conduct an attack on Wrolfin lands while the majority of their forces were away.
He was met by a force of one thousand Furies on the Slaughterlands, where a cataclysmic battle took place. Though he far outnumbered the enemy, Sapthah well knew that the Furies had the advantage in a field battle and decided to turn the battle into one of manoeuvres. The main undead force pulled back while skeletal riders flanked the advancing Furies. The Wrolfin flanks turned to face the cavalry, only for the cavalry to withdraw, peppering the Furies with missiles. Unaware of the trap, the flanks split off and chased after the cavalry, only for the main force to attack the remaining Furies before turning on the other two thirds of the army and swamping them.
While the losses for the horde were huge, what was more important was victory. The entire Wrolfin force was wiped and their dead raised, while the undead horde lost a huge number of its force, it was still powerful enough to turn northwards and march against the remaining Furies there. By the time Sapthah had arrived, however, the Wrolfin force had long withdrawn to Wrolfin territories, leaving the Lich's Victors in the citadel.
The Silent Six, Rejys and half the Victors defect to the side of the Wrolfin and rebellions arise in Cyrnaq and Ganinborg. Vampire Paragon Akhenaten is killed and Sapthah proves his military genius.
*** Year the 79th of The Lich Years
Cyrnaq had finally fallen and all the rebels were put to the sword. None were spared. Vampire Paragon Sapthah had not spared any living beings within the Realm, having scoured the Lich's territories on Sviebard and killed them all, before crossing the water and laying waste to all human villages he came across. Cyrnaq was the final stronghold for rebels and living beings alike, and with its fall the Realm of the Dead had finally become worthy of its name.
All that remained now was to march upon those despicable Wrolfin and wipe them from existence. He had faced their army of one thousand five hundred here, the one that had managed to cross before he assaulted Ganinborg, and had wiped it from existence. He was certain that, compared to the mighty horde he now had, the Wrolfin had nothing. He would destroy them all and raise them once they were dead and have them remain forever in servitude of the Lich they had spent their lives resisting...
Sapthah destroys the rebellion and all life in the Realm of the Dead and turns his sights upon the Wrolfin and the traitors.
***
Year the 80th of The Lich Years
There descended a shadow in the night Upon the home of Quay Subtly did it descend, remaining out of sight Above the king did it rise up, for it had words to say:
'I have learned of an artifact Which thine right hand does possess If thou hast wisdom and some tact And wish to avoid stress
Summary: - Astarte creates the Temple to Soul Subjugation in the Tundra in Svieland. - Astarte takes Kuro and his entire village over to the same tundra, where they try to survive. - Upon seeing the decrease in population, Astarte blessed the village. They soon overcame their problems and started to grow. - Astarte warded the Village against the Undead after an incident involve a couple hundred of them.
Turn 8. 13 Might+5FP
Astarte hummed. Amidst the relentless snow storm, the only sound heard was her soft voice carrying through the flat lands. No one heard it, of course, as the land was devoid of life. Nobody dared live here, not the Cimex and not the humans. There was an exception, though, the dragons. Ice Dragons. Though they didn't matter, they were everywhere, like cockroaches. She laughed at the thought and held herself. She smiled at the warmth of her own body, and as soon as she smiled, the snow storm dissipated.
The sky was a grayish blue, no doubt the result of the clouds above, which were slowly moving away. The ground was covered by several feet of blindingly white snow. The air was cold, and the occasional breeze felt like infinite daggers were cutting your skin.
It was the perfect place.
She clapped her hands and the ground shook. Then the shaking stopped, and in front of her, the ground gave way to a cavern's entrance. The mouth of the cavern was half under the flat lands and half above them. It was three meters tall and two wide.
Astarte walked down the slope that had formed and placed her hands on the stone. It was as cold as ice. She chuckled. "Yeah, this is great."
Then she stepped back and extended her arms toward the mouth, and two stone doors appeared. Upon each of them was the carving of a crescent moon with a cross in the center. The symbol on the left was a reflection of the one on the right, and the one on the right a reflection of the one on the left.
To test the doors, she cast a fireball at them. The fireball exploded upon contact, melting all snow and emitting unbearable heat in a radius of dozens of meters, yet the doors resisted. She tried the same with lighting, and the doors resisted. Then she tried the same with water, with ice, with light--The doors resisted all. All, but two of them. Pure chaos and pure order. For chaos, she had merely touched the doors, and they opened. For order, she gave life to a flower in front of the door and kept it alive for weeks, no change coming to it. The doors opened.
After disposing of the flower, the doors closed again. Astarte had no need to see what was inside the cavern, for she already knew. A temple to the most entertaining magic of all--Soul Subjugation. There was no need to explore it either, for knowing exactly how it looked inside was useless. The layout and the decorations changed incessantly, and once could hear shifting and movement of feet if one stood in front of the door for a while. Of course, when opened, nobody was there, and nothing was moving.
Astarte stepped away from the Temple's entrance, and with a clap of her hands, the snow which had been melted weeks ago, with no chance of recovering due to a lack of snow storms, was restored.
Then she nodded and in front of her, surrounding the Temple's entrance, a village appeared. It was Kuro's. Small, with few inhabitants, and most of them seemingly surprised.
Years passed and their numbers, instead of increasing, decreased. Famine was a strong problem. The cold wasn't, due to the Wi they all knew to use. Seeing they'd all die eventually if nothing changed, Astarte blessed them. Didn't take long for them to realize they could use their magic to temporarily fertilize the land and keep the climate pleasant enough inside their village and farm lands. That way, they survived.
Then a few hundred undead appeared, and Kuro and his students fought them. The normal villagers helped, too, but quite a few died. After this incident, Astarte warded the village against the Undead.
Might Summary:
10 Might used to create the Temple to Soul Subjugation. 2 Might used to bless the Village. 1 Might used to turn Kuro into her Hero. 1 Free Point used to ward the Village and its surrounding areas against the Undead. 0 Might left 4 Free Points left.
-Astarte's "dress armor" is completed, and the transaction was made. -Another less fashionable dragon breath proof armor was made, and was also paid for by Astarte. -Ferghus works on creating animated metal animals based on real animals already existing, and sets up a few to guard Mt. Vulcan with Robbie. -A barrier is set up to prevent other gods from messing with Mt. Vulcan and its inhabitants.
-1 Free Point spent creating the "dress armor" for Astarte. -1 Might spent giving the armor its defensive properties. -1 Free Point spent forging the dragon breath proof armor and giving it its defensive properties -1 Might spent creating prototype animal constructs to guard Mt. Vulcan. -1 Might spent erecting the invisible barrier.
Might: 17 Free Points: 3
Ferghus worked together with Astarte to complete the "dress armor" project, and finally created a suitable product that pleased both of them, asthetically and functionally. It was a sleeved white dress, quite elegant in design. Form-fitting, and having a skirt that extended to just below the knees, which also split on both sides to just below the hip. On the chest area was a small, thin metal breastplate on the front and back of the dress. Small curling designs were etched into the breastplate, and a small clear gem was embedded in the center of the breastplate. Thin white metal shoulder plates were also on the dress, each one also holding a small clear gem. A pair of leather pants were added to the dress, also outfitted with thin metal plating that had curling designs, and made so as to not hinder movement too much.
The gems were the key point in this defensive properties of the dress. They absorbed power from any energy attacks intended for the wearer, and also generate an invisible protective field to block physical attacks. Of course, there was a limit to how much power the gems could hold, although it hasn't been tested to see exactly how much power they could contain before they... well, exploded. Nevertheless, the dress was complete, as well as the reforging of her crown, and that was what mattered.
Once that was done, Ferghus was given the task of creating a set of dragonbreath proof armor by Astarte once more. Ferghus was not quite as willing to do trade again so soon. After all, even a god wanted some time for a break. However, her promise of 50 soul gems, with 10 as an initial payment and the rest upon completion, was more than enough to get him started on it. There was less of a need for asthetics, so Ferghus could focus on functionality, which suited him just fine. However, Ferghus couldn't ignore asthetics that much. he still had a reputation to uphold, after all. After a few days, Ferghus completed the after, designed to fit Astarte's needs. A simple platemail for the front side of the upper body and chain mail for the back side. 2 soul gems were used on the shoulder plates, and they were used to power the enchantment to split any incoming dragonbreath to the sides. Quite simplistic, but also powerful, as necessary to even deflect dragonbreath.
Once the transaction was complete, Ferghus got to work figuring out how to deal with Vestec. Ferghus spent quite a bit of time studying the world, specifically the various species of animals, and even more time trying to recreate his own versions using his craft. They were functional, but the problem was that in order to animate his fake animals, he needed to add his own power to them. That would mean his power would radiate from them, essentially making them highly noticable from everything else and therefore useless for his purposes. However, they were still useful creations to have around, and so he had a few helping Robbie guard the entrance to Mt. Vulcan. A few birds constantly circling the volcano, a couple wolves on the left and right sides of Robbie, that was about it. Ferghus also spent a little time erecting a barrier around the volcano, enveloping Robbie and the animal constructs, so as to prevent other gods from tampering with his creations. No god except him was allowed into the barrier without permission.
An ox of a man trudged through the dingy cave. His name was Borcha, and he wore the dull armor of woven and banded Yron, just like any other warrior in the gloomy hellhole that was the forest, but he was of higher station: the bear pelt that he wore as a claok over his armor revealed his status as a berserker. He was the one and only berserker for his tribe's highest chieftain, no less. It was an honorable and prestigious role, but that didn't change where he was.
In a dingy cave. Well, perhaps it wasn't dingy...a few holes existed in the roof, and beneath them burned fires that kept the place warm and dry. A few rugs of animal fur or woven plant fiber decorated the floor, while hunting trophies and paintings depicting battle and glory adorned the otherwise bleak stone walls. The cave admittedly did feel homely enough once you grew used to it, but it was far from luxurious. Far from what befitted the status of a chief, even the petty chieftain that made this place his dwelling and ruled over a few dozen other folk in nearby caves or huts outside.
All the other tribes looked down on his people, the Suebi. They were the newest, they were the strangest, and not so long ago they had been independent. They had fought countless battles and wars against the Ruhigs for their independence, their land, and their very survival. Early on they realized that they shared an enemy with the Horse People of the plains and struck up an uneasy alliance. With their strength and their alliance the Suebi had won and fended off all four of the other tribes for many years, but attrition whittled their numbers down and one day their great warlord had been wounded in battle and vanished into the woods to never return. The traitorous Horse People had shown their true colors by severing the alliance and suddenly attacking both sides with overwhelming force, and so the Suebi had been forced to join with the Ruhigs that they hated and submit to the wretched King, and the Ruhigs were forced to allow their worst enemies to join as equals, all in the name of mutual survival. Of course that was all three generations ago, yet some bad blood remained and would no doubt stay forever.
The Suebi were also looked down upon because their people were the poorest. The craggy and rugged coastal hills that the Suebi lived upon were only sparsely forested. What few trees dotted the rocky hillocks were all struggling to take root in such stony land and few managed to boast an impressive size. What ironwoods were available were painstakingly hard to harvest and the lumber hard to move thanks to the rugged terrain, while the lack of fertility in the soil left the resulting Yron malnourished and considered inferior to that from the others parts of the ironwood. Game was equally scarce in these parts and farming berries and the like was difficult, forcing the Suebi to turn mostly to the nearby sea and the many rivers and streams that cut through their land for food. Indeed, they were talented fishermen and had been for many generations, so they didn't starve.
Still, the Suebi had some strengths. Their "inferior" Yron was not very hard, yet it was both more flexible and lighter which left it with some advantages. First and foremost, it made for an excellent building material for boats. It enjoyed the benefits of incredible durability, resistance to aging, and near immunity to fire, yet it was also easier to work into planks and bend and floated better in the water. The Suebi had always been decent boat builders anyways, so it was only natural that they became the tribe with by far the largest fleets and best sailors. The supposedly inferior Yron also allowed for their warriors and hunters to wear lighter armor that was more comparable to boiled leather than to iron.
With weaker shields and armor, the Suebi favored guerrilla warfare, and they fielded almost exclusively skirmishers and ranged fighters. Their tribe had once fought by using some sort of magic to hurl stones, but they had eventually adopted the bow and arrow used by the other tribes. They still had many more magic users than the other tribes though, calling them shamans rather than druids. Their shamans were indeed different: they knew little of the nature magic used by druids, though they did have their own twisted arts. It was whispered that the shamans had strange and dark powers. Of course, Borcha knew that the superstitions had some truth to them in that the shamans indeed did had some secret magic that could rip a man in half and set him aflame. They were powerful and universally feared, but at the end of the day they simply knew other forms of magic. They didn't make pacts with devils or hold dark Sabbaths with the evil mystics of the wretched Horse People. Those were all foolish lies and rumors spread by lesser men.
His thoughts straying, Borcha at last remembered where he was. He was here as an honored guest to protect his lord and the other greatest men of his tribe while they traveled to the great meeting beneath the Father Tree. The old king was dead so all the high chieftains had to convene beneath the Father Tree, the tallest ironwood in the world and the very heart of this forest. It was there that the druids brought the lumberjacks so that a new king could be elected from amongst those candidates. But that would not be for a few days more on the road, Borcha mused as he remembered where he was: at a feast. This village had offered its hospitality to the lords of the tribe as they passed through, and it would be a grave insult if the High Chieftain's own berserker did not join the revelry.
Walking into the feast, Borcha's bear cloak was all the introduction he needed. At once he was swarmed by half a dozen of the locals, all wishing to welcome such a prestigious warrior into their village and offer him the bounty of their feast. Their feast in a cave. The warrior smiled and grunted a few words before finding a table, not much for talking. He ate a few bowls of hearty stew and gladly accepted drink when offered: rather than his ale being served in a drinking horn, it came in the bowl of a human skull. The local chief honored him: it was tradition for a man to drink from the skull of the first enemy he slayed, and to allow another to drink from it was a sign of respect, almost reverence if they were not a liege and the gesture wasn't expected. Needless to say, Borcha was rather flattered.
It felt strange to be the center of attention when there were so many other powerful men in the room. Indeed, it confused Borcha until he noticed that his lord was nowhere to be seen. Noticing that the High Chieftain's son was present, he made his way over and inquired as to the whereabouts of the lord. The young man spat back that his father had felt unwell and taken his leave from the eating. No doubt the boy was in a foul mood seeing as he was heir and yet the locals still paid for heed to a mere soldier, albeit one that was something of a living legend. Still, Borcha hardly cared; one day the little one might be his master, but until then he was just another one of the little people that would rather envy another than rise up and better themselves.
Borcha returned to his seat and stayed there for most of that night, not bothering to check up on the High Chieftain. He trusted that his lord was fine and he needn't follow the man anyways. He had sworn loyalty as a champion rather than as some bodyguard or maid. It was rather late in the morning when Borcha groggily rose from his slumber, his head pounding from the past night's drinking. The Mighty Chieftain had rose early in the morning and returned back to his hall after deciding to forgo attending the moot entirely. To ensure the Suebi were still heard, the rest of the delegates would still go with the chief's pompous little son and heir leading the party.
What had looked like a grand and powerful entourage indeed with the Mighty Chieftain at its head in all his glory now looked rather sorry, but at least Borcha's presence might be striking enough for them to be taken as seriously as the other tribes. Sighing, the Suebi's champion went out with the rest that day and made for the Grand Tree in the heart of the Black Forests.
-Borcha is introduced. He's a part of the Suebi tribe, and the berserker of that tribe's High Chieftain. -Long-winded exposition that fleshes out the Ruhig Kingdom somewhat. -The Suebi are mentioned to be strange and different from most of the other tribes: rather than druids they have shamans with some form of strange magic, their Yron is inferior yet they have a powerful fleet, and in battle most of them favor guerrilla warfare or skirmishing with extensive utilization of magic and ranged weapons.
