[IC] Mid/High Casual - Divinus: The Deity Roleplay (Rebooted)

[Lugubrious]

Escre, The Great Spirit, God of Life (Spirits)
&
Sveiand, The Cold One, God of Seasons (Winter)
&
Vowzra, The Timeless One, God of Creation (Time)

Vowzra watched from atop Orabil as his prophet set out into the world and faced some of the terrors of the Chaotic One, and he watched as the knowledge he had given him guided his path and allowed him to grow. But it was not Zerabil who was of interest to him at that moment. There were other things to be doing. The darkness may have been chased away, but it returned nightly, and he foresaw a time when it would return more completely. The Chaotic One would not leave Orabil to carry out its purpose fully, but that was of no great concern.

What was more concerning was the budding enmity he could see slowly forming between the Guardian of Life and the Changer of Seasons. That would not do, no it would not. Life and the Seasons went hand in hand, and to have disharmony between them was simply not the way things should be. He saw only strife coming of, for gods and creation alike.

He slowly began to sink into Orabil, until he was as one with the Tree of Light. He descended its great length at speed, making for the Astral Home which lay at the roots of the tree. He sent a mental word to the Guardian.

'I come, brother. Permit me enter your domain.' as he decended, he waited upon the permission of the Guardian.

"Enter, esteemed god of Time, though I am not your brother."

With permission granted, Vowzra descended into the roots at speed and quickly found a root ending in one of the Astral Home's nerves. He burst into Galbar's core, the energies of the core revitalising even a god. He noted that the great Astral Home was now red, he had heard its beat, ver-louder as he descended, but seeing it was entirely different. As he looked into it, he could not help but see a pair of haunting eyes staring out at him. Sighing, he looked away; it was his Fate to do as he had to, rather than what he wished.

'You have created a mighty thing here and given Life to what was lifeless. You are the one who most honours and treasures Life, for it is of you.' he circled around the great red sphere until he could see Escre with his own eyes.
'Why is it then that you allow an enmity to grow between you and the lord of Seasons? Egging others against him and the Life you created? Is it your duty to do as such, or have you allowed thoughts of revenge to mar your purity?'
Vowzra turned his body completely towards the Guardian of Life and looked at it quizzically. Even while he knew much, there was ever so much that he did not; and the exact reasoning behind Escre's actions slipped him by. He was intrigued.

For a moment the specter stared at the man of wood, thinking. Gods were not obliged to give justification of their actions to other gods. Two beings of equal stature did not answer to one another; only to their superiors was such rationalization needed. Suspecting that a dismissal would prick the god of Time's pride, however, Escre decided to respond. "Enmity is not a weed that springs from the garden unbidden. It is planted there with deliberation. The attitude of Svieand is toxic. His inflated pride is only matched by his volatile temper. Merely did I extend a memory of his power to the people to give them a chance for survival, and in retaliation he began a winter that would have been the end of all life. His brash actions directly led to the death of my hero. Yet, it is wrong of you to think that I bear him ill will."

"If I wished to take revenge, there would be one less god to torment the planet, and his land would be dust in the wind. My rendezvous with Undasis was an experiment. I wished to see if I could make the Kraken emerge from her by appealing to his own inflated pride. If he did, karma would be exacted. From the resulting exchange, I learned that the true power of the god of Water lies not in bestial strength but wise temperance. A storm may rage, but for the most part the waters are calm. Without Undasis, the Kraken would be as toxic to life, balance, and order as Svieand is, if not worse. In that case, the female temperance keeps the male malevolence at bay. Most...interesting."

"I take it your presence here indicates a desire to reach some sort of peace."

Considering the Guardian's words, Vowzra decided to keep his thoughts to himself. There was a marked difference in his mind between the chaotic being which was the Kraken and the inexperienced being which was Sveiand. If the Guardian thought them to be of the self-same metal to one another, then who was Vowzra to try to prove otherwise? Time and Fate would do that. He had to admit, however, that Escre's insights on Undasis were rather interesting. He would have to find some way, in time, to strengthen the Lady over her less agreeable twin. But that was a matter and this was a matter completely different.

'Indeed. Peace between gods who should naturally be closely aligned is not so great a thing to ask. The balance of the world is threatened far more by other forces than it is by the bringer of winter. With guidance and aid, he will surely blossom into a worthwhile ally for both you and I. And there will come a time, as I am sure you would know, when it is only in the alliances we forge today that we will withstand the wrath of the coming imbalance.' Vowzra paused for a few moments before continuing.
'I am not here to force upon you what you do not wish for, you are a mighty god, most wise, and you will only do as Fate commands.' with that, Vowzra bowed his head before the other before backing away and making for an open nerve. He ascended the roots and great trunk of Orabil, and atop the great tree, he waited upon the curious god who would soon come to investigate.

Sveiand had soared from the Great Crater with haste after feeling the shift in his winter on Aguilla. Sviebard was still sound with his peoples content in their simplistic subsistence life style. He span with glee at the sight of his creations thriving in the otherwise harsh climes that would forever occur naturally at this time of year in the achipelago. With winter occurring here it was time for order to be restored in the other hemisphere. He knew that he had been reckless and prideful. His temper unbridled had ultimately negated his purpose of grooming the planet's natural cycles and for that he would forever be ashamed. But for now he would strive to repent and restore order to the seasons as was his duty.

As the winter god arrived within the range of Orabil's influence even his own self-doubt melted and Svieand was once again impressed by the wisdom of the timely one, Vowra. Not privy to the plans already in place, Svieand soared naively through the canopy, weaving in and out of the branches, his icy touch disappating from the bark before it even settled. Here he could do no damage with his unruly emotions. Winter, it now seemed, could be controlled.

Now bored of the mortal thrills he appeared beside the wizened wooden figure, his porcelain adolescent appearance a stark contrast to his fellow deity. "Undasis has spoken the truth of my transgressions of which I can now see clearly as the morning frost. I was blinded by my own insecurities into ungainly emotions that are not becoming of beings such as ourselves." He paused and inhaled deeply. "And I can only apologise for the subsequent hurt I caused your human race with my actions."

Vowzra turned his wooden head towards the young god. Yes, though they had risen at the same time, Vowzra could see that this one was a young god. Its subconscious could not draw upon the experience of a thousand previous worlds, but he would learn. He was a powerful being, and his power was best put to use where it ensured the natural order of things, where it ensured the cycle of order and chaos were in complete harmony and that there was absolute balance. Absolute balance did not mean that there would be complete harmony on the physical plane. Far from it, there would certainly be times when the likes of Escre would grow agitated and believe that the balance was being meddled with. But Vowzra saw with a different eye, and there was a reason Escre saw as Escre saw, and Vowzra saw as Vowzra saw.
'It is not Mankind that you have hurt, it is not even the Guardian of Life. Not truly,' Vowzra turned completely towards Sveiand and raised a bark hand to the other god's face, 'it is Sveiand that you have hurt most of all.'
His fingers grew colder the longer they remained on the other god's face and a layer of frost had grown on them by the time he withdrew his hand. He allowed his gaze to travel over the landscape.
'Do you not see what I see? Do you not stand where I stand and feel what I feel?' Vowzra looked down at Orabil, the Tree of Light, the Living Tree, 'what you see is Life, Life in the form of animals and plants. But there is more to life than that. This planet is alive too, you can feel its heartbeat. The very air is alive, you can feel its energies. The flowing water, the clouds in the sky, the stars in the heavens. All things are alive,' and now he turned back to Sveiand, 'and you, as a god of Seasons, have a part in bringing this Life. Winter is cold and death, but you are not simply Winter. You are so much more...' Vowzra allowed a small smile to crease his face of bark, 'and so, when you engulfed the world in Eternal Winter, you engulfed yourself in it too, and just as Eternal Winter kills all Life, so too does it kill what you are at heart. It is Time for you to shed this Winter coat of yours, when will you embrace the coming Spring? When will your Eternal Winter end?'

Svieand was touched by Vowzra's words and revelations. The ice cold of his very core freezing the wooden figure before him was the physical sign of his distortion that he'd already denied for too long. He now knew for truth that he was not as experienced as the other deities and that he would have to learn and adapt quickly to avoid making such a mistake again. He must steer the right path in fufilling his duty to his creators in bringing order to the world, not the very chaos he had wraught. He looked at Vowzra and nodded, smiling at the feeling of affection toward a fatherly figure. The desire to rid himself of the chilling bitterness and blizzard of emotion grew within, but so did the apprehension of what such a change would bring. Yet it was time for new life. A new beginning. A re-birth. The banishment of winter into the embrace of spring. But for that he would need someone's guidance and forgiveness.

Escre knew only that there would be no imbalance. It would not stand for it. To that end, the Great Spirit conceded, it would be prudent to have more allies than enemies. Plus, if Escre were to get the chance to come face-to-face with Svieand under the pretense of peace, there was a noteworthy chance that it would be able to take and alter Svieand's own godly spirit, most likely with Vowzra's aid, and make peace with the god of Seasons not a mere hope, but a reality. Escre enveloped itself in a white fire that glowed most eerily off the liquid surface of the Astral Home, and rocketed through the Planet Cord en route to the tree Orabil. As it approached, it found two familiar divinities already nestled among its uppermost leaves and branches. Vowzra's countenance suited his surroundings so well that he may have very well risen from the tree itself, and the other figure beside it the Great Spirit identified as Svieand. Free of emotion, as always, Escre descended among to green canopy. In silence did it approach the two gods.

The Winter God gripped the branch tighter as the Great Spirit approached, the bark blossoming with fractals of ice as he drew a deep breath and swallowed his sinful pride. He faced the life-giving god squarely and spoke with the lust for a new change. "I know what must be done. Will you assist me?"

As unreadable as ever, Escre stared back. A moment of silent contemplation passed before Escre raised a hand--the right hand, the bearer of the lantern, and the hand of creation. It murmured, "Of course. I am ever at the service of the gods."

With that Svieand launched into the air and pulled all of his energies together into a gleaming sphere of silver light.

The Great Spirit's memory of its encounter with Undasis lay fresh on its mind. It held up its lantern and opened it wide. Lifeblood began to spill from its reservoir, gleaming almost like the original mana in the radiance of the lantern's undine light. Behind Escre's back, its halo appeared, a crescent moon solidified from nothingness. Inside the lantern, blood and light combined, forming into several glistening singularities that gathered and, all at once, converged on Svieand.

The pure life force surged into the cold God and his core melted to only a small shard of ice still retaining his bitter winter persona. The bitterness, childishness, envy, jealousy, judgement and immaturity melted away leaving nothing but that one crystal and endless potential. The figure was soon just a halo of golden light pulsing with the blood red energy imbued by Escre into the season spirit. The shifting mirage grew ever brighter the pure light blinding the scenic view from the summit of Orabil. With it grew a humming that increased in pitch until the hazy light exploded releasing this new energy out into the world. The pulse of pink tinged power rippled out from the Living Tree.

The eternal winter was removed from even the furthest reaches of the southern continent and the very land itself blossomed. Trees shook off their white coat and burst into leaf, the blizzards of snow replaced with falling blossom. The ground dried out as the grass absorbed the meltwater to grow at an exceptional rate punctured by specks of colour as spring flowers bloomed into existence. Insects emerged from hibernation, birds started to lay the foundations for their nests and all over the continent the new borns of every species saw the world of Galbar for the first time, each expressing "Wow" in their own way.

When the light had dimmed it had coalesced once again into a humanoid figure. This one shorter, thinner and proportioned differently. Her bright green eyes opened and the light vanished. Petite arched feet with delicate arches landed on the strong branch followed by ivory smooth legs and rounded hips. A toned abdomen and thin waist led to pert breasts and elegant arms that explored her new form. Her golden hair fell like a curtain of silk to the top of her waist, the sunlight catching the stray strands of hair that blew across her face. In a way this made her more beautiful, as the yellow streaks complimented her enchanted verdant eyes that burst with vibrancy. Yet they also reflected a look of wisdom far beyond those naive blue ones that had existed moments before.

Appearance

The pale skinned and tall, slender build strode toward the other two figures and smiled with confidence. She blew into the winds that breezed through the enormous ecosystem that was the Tree of Light and they appeared. Scattered over the canopy precisely one hundred buds appeared and bloomed into a large white blossom to reveal a sparkling spirit at the center of each one. The Vesla flocked to their mother and danced across the branches gaily slowly taking similar vibrant forms inspired by their surroundings. Some coloured vibrant like the bluebell or daffodil, others the rich greens of fresh moss or the virginal whites and pinks of tree blossom. "My daughters." the yellow haired figure spoke. "You are birthed from the seasons and life itself to guard over this planet. You shall observe and inform us," gesturing at all three present, "of those who deserve blessings and those who seek to harm all that we have created." With that the magical Vesla scattered across the planet to take up home in trees, groves, clearings and meadows that would soon become sacred to the local peoples.

Left naked on the branch a whirl of leaves and the now spent Orabil petals flew to her body and formed a skin-tight, luminous white dress with a long shoulder train of white petals. Finally settled she felt the pang of loss as the knowledge of Undasis' revenge seeped into her through the tree. Yet there was nothing she could do. Tribes were still alive and many had been granted new lives aquatic. She would visit the remaining islands but must focus on her destiny of keeping order, unlike her previous self. She turned to the gods before her; "Gentlemen, shall we?" and lept into the air in a flurry of petals.

Whilst the Northern Sviebard archipelago was still cold and trying, half of it drowned, in the South one thing was clear. Spring had most definitely arrived.

Summary - Svieand
1 Might spent on blooming the planet, Orabil and birthing every species
1 Might spent to create the Vesla guardians (non-reproducing magical species)
(+ previous axis tilt = 3 Might spent on Spring)
5 Might to level up
3 Might to add 'Spring' to portfolio

[LokiLeo789]

Arguis Escre Collab

Name:
Arguis

Might
10 Might/ 1 FreePoint

Level
4

Domains/Portfolios:
Knowledge
(Nigh Omniscience)

Musical Theme:

Normal:
Feather

War Theme:
Enfin Apparu

Summary

- Quay Visited by gods.
-Given a Lance and Soul Weaving
-Journeys to set location to meat party.
-Gets ready to leave for Summit.

Just after dawn, Quay Dusis, strode through the airy curtains that covered the simeirculur balcony of grey, and looked over the Palace Hills. Despite the Duisisian Kingdom only being established for 30 years, corruption already began to run rampant. Quays' father, King Le'zie Dusis, was caught in a trap ten years in the making. The Counsel of 6 conspired against his father, slandering his name. Within days it seemed, the whole Kingdom was rioting against the rule of his father. It would not be long before the Counsel found away to force him off the throne for good, once they got rid of him, the royal family would be next. And the only think his father could say when he told him of this, "I can only send you."

This was not all that left Quay in such a somber mood. The memory of his dream filled his mind. He had seen Dusis in flames, smelled of soot and blood and fire, he heard his people wailing in terror and pain. Ribbon of black shadows hung in the air like a thick cloud, they all smiled a tigers grin, all at the same time, in unison they proclaimed, "I am coming."

He had then woken to the news that the Cimexian Armies had been mobilized.

A curtain if rain swept toward him from across the river. Fresh, clean rain. Not to heavy, not yet. He welcomed the first drops as they hit his skin, then retreated into the shelter of the balcony arch. He stood, and he watched, and he waited.

What he was about to do would be difficult. The kindness in him, the warmth, would have to be kept under lock, in order to better serve the greater good. It would not be plesent, but he would do it. His father would be to preoccupied with trying to stop the civil war going on at home, not the Cimex. He would be strong, he would be cold, he would be hard.

His journey would begin soon enough, as a prince unfortunately, he had other duties to attend to. For once thought he would ignore his job, tomorrow, the real work would be done. Quay took this opportunity to sleep, he prayed to the Ones Above, pleading with them to allow him to sleep dream free, unfortunately it seemed that they had other plans for him.

As soon a Quay closed his eyes, he found himself in another room. It was a simple one, 4 walls draped with thick black curtains the pooled onto the floor, black and white porcelain tile floors, and one window, with the rays of the sun shining through it. He was in a wooden mahogany seat, with a red velvet cushion, in front of him as a small table, one with a game of chess ready to be played on it. Sitting across from him with his legs crossed was a human boy, in his teens it seemed. He wore a black shirt with black trousers, his hair was upturned and was as black as his attire. Quay kept quiet, for he had heard of gods visiting Uri in their dreams, even his father boasted of such dealings.

Arguis gazed at the Prince of Dusis, the one named Quay. Despite being relatively small compared to the rest of his kind, he carried the air of royalty. He looked comfortable in his own skin, confident, strong in a way that had nothing to do with muscles.

"I'm glad you came." Quay said.

Arguis was surprised, despite being in the presence of a god, he was still free with himself, that impressed him.

"Last night, the Cimex declared war in all races of Galbar." Quay said as his eyes glittered. "Not only that, my father has fallen into a trap, the Consul will soon close in on him." The Princes shoulder were pulled taut in a way that mad him look bigger and thicker than he was. His back was straight as a rod. He looked cold, hard, mean.

The god sighed, he knew of all this, he was the god of Knowledge, he saw the path that this time line would drag the people of Galbar into. "You do have a dilemma, but it seems you are determined to save your kingdom." Arguis said glancing down at the chess board. "Here, if you are going to fight for you Kingdom, then I'll give you the necessary tools to do it. Arguis summoned aLance to his hand.

Quay accepted the Lance kneeling down. It felt right in his hands, as if it belonged there since his birth. He felt the power vibrating from the core of the blade, it was a powerful weapon indeed.

"It's name is Trucidator, handle it with care, for it is capable killing a demigod when wielded correctly." Arguis warned. "I understand." Quay said simply, bowing once again in respect. "That is all I can give you, my your journey prove fruitful." Arguis said, and with that he dissaperaed. Despite that, the dream did not, for next appeared a cloaked revenant, hooded, and with pale and unblinking eyes.

Its right arm a mere sleeve, and its left a construct of black metal, the ghostly being spoke, "Greetings, Dusis Prince. Through the eyes of those without faces, I have been watching. The Uri please me, far more so than the now defunct Dyun, or the dastardly Cimex. And yet, they stand on calamity's brink. To fight among yourselves means to deprive the alliances of order the power they need to eliminate the insect empire. Though in calmer times I would allow the foolishness of the Uri to be their undoing, to let you to drift into the void means the end of the world's balance. Thus, I, too, come bearing a gift."

Escre softly pushed aside its robe, revealing a small, fist-sized hand lantern hanging at its belt. Compared to the contraption usually carried by the Great Spirit, this little device was no great shakes, but fitting, perhaps, for a mortal. Escre removed the hand lantern and floated it over to the Uri prince. "With this semblance of my power by your side, you will be able to draw from the planet's core and the home of spirits, and weave those departed souls into powerful magics. At your bidding, images of warriors and beings fallen may rise to fight at your side, and so relive their glory. Other ways may occur to you, for your imagination towers above that of a mere outside presence like myself. Soon, you, too, will awaken from this peaceable dream, and be thrust into a cruel wakefulness that without your aid will become the true nightmare."

With that, all dissaperaed, everything melted into any inky darkness before his eyes snapped open. Just as he awoke the solar door opened, a white mustached male Uri walked through the door wearing a plumed helmet. "Beg you pardon, my Prince..." the guard began.

"I know." said Quay. "My father will need you more today."

The guards eyes narrowed. "My prince-"

"I'll be fine." Quay said, getting out of bed only to give the guard a reassuring shoulder shake. "Trust me."

The guard stared at him a moment longer, then bowed.

"Yes, my prince." He said. The old man withdrew, and Quay heard him talking to another guard as their footsteps moved down the hall.

Yes, my prince, he'd say. He always did.

Quay closed his eyes for a few second, and as if that itself changed him, saw saw differently. As he opened his eyes he saw the River of Souls. The every flowing torrent of Souls that flowed down to the Astral Home itself. The souls gather around him, twisting and turning around his body. He could feel their desire to help him, to be of service, their power was so much it made his teeth chatter.

Quay walked over to his balcony, keeping his sight in the River of Souls. To his surprise, he could see the eddy of other Soul weavers, a torrent of Souls spinning around their body's, ready to be used. He counted 9 in total, with him that made ten. Quay made a call through the River, and the souls carried his message, "I am a receiver, just like you, cone to the Kings Glave, a place were we can speak."

Quay looked across the Palace Hills, his lips drawn thin, today he would leave for the summit, but with the Soul Weavers that had been born. He took of his Princely garments, and replaced them with commoners, a t-shirt over laped by a brown vest and grey trousers. He completed the look with a black show that came down to his elbow, and a hood. Quay left the Palace, convincing the guards that he would be fine and that he had other waiting for him at his destination, which he again lied about. Quay had his Lance with him, which conveniently folded itself into a smaller size. He also had with him his pack, he would leave today, with a party fit for battle.

[Scarifar]

Ferghus, after sending his Arma Igna into the world, had chosen to reside in his forge, only creating what he could in his forge. The walls, the racks, even the tables were filled with tools, weapons, and armor. Of course, there were pieces that he was not satisfied with and chose to improve them, or, when it no longer interested him, discard them. Life went on for the ruggedly handsome blacksmith.

However, there came a time when Ferghus realized something: he was bored. Yes, bored of his activity in the forge. He had explored much of his ability, and knew he still had more to do, but it no longer interested him as much as it did when he first started. What was he to do? How could he relieve his boredom? He ponder long and hard, but to no avail. There was nothing to inspire him within his forge. Within his forge.... hmm, an idea came to Ferghus. His forge was his domain, but that was the problem: it was too familiar now. Ferghus needed to explore and find works of inspiration in the outside world.

For the first time in several years, which was not actually that long for a god, he exited his private domain and looked upon the planet Galbar. Of course, things had changed. The humans had grown more advanced, no doubt with help from his Arma Igna. The Dyun were facing extinction, which wasn't that much of an issue. Even new creatures of water-men or whatever they were called, no doubt a creation of Undasis', appeared. Of course, it wasn't just the sentient life that had changed; the planet itself seemed a bit more... lively, with more greenery than before, especially in the southern areas.

Well, all of that was of little concern to him. Ferghus used a portion of his energy to power up. He needed some more power for things he had planned. He mentally checked the status of the ten Arma Igna, and found that only 1 of them were living with sentient life; 4 were not, 2 seemed to have perished, and the last 2 were somehow indeterminate. He would check on those last two when he had the chance; chances were one or more of the other gods had been toying with them. Ferghus then created an Avatar at the eastern edge of the continent, where the land and the sea met, then Ferghus forcibly teleported the 6 Arma Igna he could still sense. The Arma Igna were frozen for a brief second, seemingly confused as to what had happened, then knelt in front of Ferghus' Avatar upon spotting it.

"Fiery one," they all said in greeting. The Ferghus Avatar nodded, then asked, "What news do you bring?"

One of them, the first Arma Igna to be created, stood up and said, "I have made contact with a human named 'Zerabil'. I have taught him the ways of the forge, and he has spread that knowledge along with the knowledge of the other gods to his fellow humans. Many have chosen to accept you and become your follower. He has also seen fit to grant me the name of 'Rejys'."

Ferghus nodded in approval. "Not bad. Not bad at all," Ferghus remarked. He had not thought to give his Arma Igna names. Perhaps the humans could do that for him, though, if not the other sentient life on the planet. Ferghus then turned to the second Arma Igna to make contact. "What about you? How has your journey been?"

The second one stood up and reported, "I too have made contact with a tribe of humans, the leader of which was a man named 'lalu'. I have taught them the ways of the forge as directed, but they chose to reject you in favor of their 'Mighty One', and banished me while keeping the teachings of the forge."

Ferghus' eyebrow then twitched. "Oh really?" Ferghus said in mild annoyance. "Perhaps I shall go and visit this tribe when I have the chance."

Ferghus listened to the reports of the last Arma Igna, but their reports gave little to nothing of value. That was rather depressing. "Thank you all for your time, now return to the land and resume the teachings of the forge." Ferghus then pointed to the second one and said, "You are staying with me for the time being. I must learn more about this tribe that has shown such disrespect."

Ferghus now returned his full attention to himself and decided that he needed to be a little bit more busy on this planet. Question was, how to do it? Ferghus thought for a minute or so, then had an idea. Focusing on the planet, he used his control over fire to melt the earth far beneath the surface of the planet, but not far enough to affect the Astral Home. Ferghus also made sure that the magma would not affect the Planet Cord. The magma, now creating pressure within the planet, created more than a few tremors around the planet for a brief moment before creating cracks on the inside of the earth. Fortunately, not all of those cracks actually reached all the way through to the surface, and most of them were on the ocean surface. Chances are, the mortals, and possibly even the other gods, would notice that. Oh well, what's done was done.

To be oh so convenient, one of those cracks had appeared near Ferghus' Avatar. Ferghus returned his attention to his Avatar and teleported both it and the Arma Igna back. Now he willed the magma underneath the crack to rise, raising the earth to go with it. A strong tremor was felt, and even the Arma Igna could not maintain their footing. Fortunately, the tremor only lasted a few seconds, but within those few seconds, the first volcano, Mt. Vulcan, was born.

Ferghus then hollowed out a portion of the volcano, creating a large room that Ferghus then teleported into. Within that room, Ferghus created a forge, much like the one within his own personal plane of existence. However, there were several differences, most notably that this forge harnessed both the power of the volcano and the water from the ocean. There were torches to illuminate the inside, as well as the tools he needed to work with. There was a clear path that led from the outside to the inside, with a door of metal barring the way. The forge was complete. Ferghus then teleported back outside to where the Arma Igna was waiting and commanded, "Now, tell me what you know about these humans."

After a brief explanation of them, Ferghus then nodded and said, "Thank you. Now, go inside the forge and wait for further instructions." As the Arma Igna obeyed, Ferghus opened his palm and breathed a stream of fire into it, creating a small orb. Tossing it to Rejys, Ferghus explained, "That will return you to the humans you were living with, Rejys. One use only, though." "The rest of you, go out and search once more. If you happen to find sentient life, tell them that the first forge of the gods is here." All of them nodded and said, "Fiery one," then walked off. Rejys, however, smashed the teleportation orb onto the ground, engulfing himself in fire for a moment before disappearing.

Ferghus teleported his Avatar back into Mt. Vulcan, then Ferghus himself went back into the Forge, where he examined his collection of work. There were things to see and people to do now.

Meanwhile, Might and stuff

6 Might spent to Level Up to 5.
1 Might spent creating an Avatar.
1 Free Point spent creating a 1-use teleportation orb.
2 Might spent creating Magma within the entire planet.
1 Might spent creating a volcano called Mt. Vulcan, and the forge within it.

Might: 0
Free Points: 2

2 Arma Igna confirmed dead through unknown means.
Volcano forge created. Business is now open.
Cracks in the ocean floor, meaning water and magma are in contact. Undasis/Kraken may or may not be pleased.

[Rtron]

Vestec, God of Chaos

Might: 7

Freepoint: 1

Vestec finally grew bored of torturing the Outsiders. He had learned all he needed to know of their race, their purpose, and their creator. They were annoyingly resistant to change, Vestec having to spend far too more time than he'd like to corrupt just two of them. With a dismissive clench of his fist, he killed his two prisoners. But he didn't let their spirits go back to Escre and Astral home. Oh no. Just because he couldn't corrupt them, didn't mean he couldn't use them. Catching the writhing souls, he set about creating his latest race. By the time he was done, monsters had been created. As they looked up at him expectantly Vestec spoke, giving them both name and purpose. "You are to be the Anju, the Secret Hunters. You will spread across the land, living amongst the races, only rarely showing your true selves. Your duty is to eliminate humanity's secret protectors, these 'Outsiders', and to spread discord among the communities that dare oppose my chosen followers. Go, and let the 'Great Spirit' know that even his precious creations are not out of my reach."

With that, the first two Anju were placed upon the world of Galbar.

As Vestec turned his attention to back to the northern tribe. The Garakains had grown in size and power, but the southerners were growing stronger. The Forge God's creatures were teaching them the ways of the forge, how to make everything they had simply better. While they would doubtlessly also teach the Kingdom of Garakai (as the northerners were now calling themselves), as they seemed to be neutral, it would take too long. For Vestec's plan at least. So he selected the two that were farthest north and traveling together, and corrupted their minds. They were sent to the North to serve the Kingdom, and thus, Vestec.

As he glanced about the world again, Vestec tsked in disappointment. Things were going smoothly. Far too smoothly for far too many races. It was time to change that. Vestec's first stop was the Uri. He visited six villages, all relatively close to each other, and then corrupted them all. The leaders of all the villages met to decide who would lead this new nation. At Violence's urging, they settled it with a fight to the death. It was quick and bloody, as only one of them followed the Path of War. Within a few weeks, they were approaching the Kingdom of Garakai for an alliance, one that was quickly accepted.

His next stop was the northern tribe. The three leaders had finally proven themselves worthy, with Viscardi even giving him a human consort. He granted them each the power they desired, making them heroes of Chaos. As he made them his champions, however, he noticed that the southern tribes had also learned the ways of fortification. Dragons could not win all their sieges. It also occurred to him that supply lines would be needed and most pack beasts would be very fragile. It would take too long to build siege weapons and they broke too easily. Horses could be armored by that slowed them down immensely. Thus, Vestec gifted them with a siege beast race, and a race to serve as durable pack beasts. Before he left, he blessed the northern tribes with promiscuity.

The Cimex were visited next, or at least a hive of them. Once again they were all corrupted, and once again an alliance was made with the human tribes of the North. This one was far more secretive than the last, however, and would not be acted upon until the time was right.

“One final stop.” Vestec giggled to himself, appearing before the tree Orabil. “Lights out, once a year, for an entire week. The Mortals still need to know fear, and you’re just too constant for that to happen.” He touched the tree, changing it only slightly.

Summary

1 might spent Creating Anju
Two of Ferghus’s Arma Igna corrupted.
1 might spent creating the Bodi(the four legged monster) and the Vork(The big monster with horns)
1 might spent granting Viscardi and his brothers hero status(a couple years into the time skip)
Rival female human challenger of Viscardi given to Vestec, who impregnated her then returned her to Garakai. (A couple of years into the timeskip)
1 might spent blessing the northern tribe with large population growth
1 might spent creating the ‘Week of unending Night’
2 might left.
1 Freepoint left.

Viscardi, Lord of the North

It was almost time. He could feel it. His armies were large, and spoiling for a fight against the South. His allies were ready, and everything pointed towards now being the correct time to strike. The main Cimex nation was getting ready to attack the southerners, leaving their back open to a joint assault by Aztoc, his dragons, and their Cimex allies. The southerners were all gathering at a conference to decide what to do. Viscardi himself had killed the messenger and burned the message. Better to let them assume that he had never gotten the message than that he was getting ready to attack. There was only one thing left to do, and that was at the Twins’ (as the two Arma Igna serving Vestec as well were called) insistence. “Pray to the God of the Forge,” they had said in their unnerving way of finishing each other’s sentences, “only he can give you a weapon worthy of waging war against the south.”

So Viscardi walked through Garakai, now a large city thanks to Vestec’s blessing, heading towards the temple. As he did so he passed Ryva, the woman who had challenged him for the right to lead Garakai. He almost felt bad for giving her to Vestec as a consort. Everyone could tell, even without being told who the father was, that her child was unnatural. Still. She shouldn’t have challenged someone that much stronger than her.

Walking into the temple that was dedicated primarily to Vestec, but also had shrines to the other gods, Viscardi soon knelt before the simple shrine to Ferghus. “Ferghus, lord of the Forge, god of Fire, I beg for your help. Soon I go to wage war against the Southerners. My mortal made weapon will not be enough, and your two Arma Igna with me refuse to insult you by trying to match what you can make. I need a weapon, Lord of the Forge. And I humbly request one from your own hands. Name a price within my power to pay, and I will gladly do it.” Then, he waited.

[Lugubrious]

Invidia, the Liaison

Foolish as it might have seemed to some, the outsider known as Invidia could pick an hour of the day that he most treasured. The light of day, to a being with such attuned eyesight, was nothing but blinding, and a beacon to illuminate behind the veil of secrecy beneath which all outsiders dwelt. Night, however, was more dangerous still, thanks to the merciless onslaught of the chaos god. Entities carved from fear whose only purpose was to bring terror and death stalked the night, and the gleam of Galbar's moon did not sufficiently illuminate the clutching shadows. Night also permeated the land with cold, a cruel chill that returned faint but painful memories of the Liaison's old life, before he had been named. Instead, Invidia favored most the hour of twilight, the orange skies and wispy clouds, a short period just between the radiance of day and the despair of night. It was a time that didn't quite fit into either, and so one that best suited those who didn't quite fit anywhere.

And now, the hour of twilight shone down upon the Tabernacle's uppermost floor. Its only ceiling the vault of heaven, it was formed of a tiled expanse lined by pointy spires. Up here and alone, Invidia could sit in a wooden chair and open its eye to gaze upon the sun as it dipped below the horizon. The approach of a Communion monk, breaking the serene silence, gave Invidia ample time to conceal his eye beneath his robes. Turning his masked, faceless head upon the newcomer, he asked, “Good tidings?”

The monk nodded her head. “Designations from the humans and Uri have agreed to meet, and we've received word that several humans of particular note, named Ialu and Zerabil, will be joining us as well. Before too much longer, the summit will begin.”

Invidia rose from his seat and joined the monk as the two made their way downstairs. At the second floor, the outsider bid the woman farewell, and journeyed out into his solitary balcony where the shadow meetings were kept. Twenty minutes later, a dark shape dropped down onto the balcony next to him, and Invidia said, “Good twilight, brother. What n...!”

The Liaison stumbled as a razor-sharp claw raked across his chest, slicing through cloth and almost raking a deadly furrow through his eye, had he not instinctively scrunched the lid shut. Bright, scarlet blood spattered across the stone. Surprised and hurt, Invidia fell back against the balcony, and shrieked in horror to see a six-eyed monstrosity leering at him. Paralyzed with fear, Invidia was unable to react in time to prevent his assailant from diving onto him, throwing him through the balcony railing and into free-fall. With a haunting howl, the creature leaped from the precipice after him. ”This beast went straight for me eye,” the outsider panicked, ”It has killed outsiders before, even in disguise!” Invidia smacked, hard, into the ground, one of its legs snapping off at the knee. He wailed, and sifted through his pockets until he found a reddened sponge. With only a moment to spare before the monster landed on him, Invidia popped the sponge, and new blood surged into his system. Just in time, the outsider rolled out of the way, and his attacker slammed into the ground.

Invidia took quick stock of his surroundings. He'd landed in a garden courtyard behind the Tabernacle, and while there were no people around, there lay only a few dozen paces away another railing, this one protecting unwary walkers from a cliff edge and a far more deadly drop. Invidia hadn't much more time to think, however, as the black creature lunged for him. It screamed when its claws were sheared through by a Dyun-bone axe, Invidia's own. It looked to where Invidia's leg had been broken, and saw a new one, freshly regenerated. Maddened, it pounced again, but though it had six eyes, the outsider's one, blessed oculus saw far more clearly. With practiced efficacy, Invidia cleaved the creature's head, and the monster fell still, snarling, until it melted away into ink.

In its place Invidia beheld an eye, much like an outsider's, but withered from disuse and corruption. Arranging his robes to hide his wound, Invidia looked upon the thing in shock. ”This...is one of my own people. An outsider...once. Not anymore. It is something different.” Hobbling to the fence, the Liaison leaned upon it, looked down at the human city below. ”Who knows how many more there are out there...we must be prepared.” That night, Invidia addressed the Sanguine Communion, and began the Cleansing—a hunt for the Secret Hunters, an endeavor to root out and rid the world of the nightmarish Anju threat.

-=-=-

Several days later, Invidia stood in the grand conference room, awaiting the arrival of the other faction leaders. Though his leg had yet to heal fully and necessitated the use of a cane, Invidia, masked and robed immaculately, was more hopeful than ever before. The forces of light and order were poised to convene and create an alliance to drive back the evil hordes amassing to tear everything to pieces.

Summary
Khookies - 1 K spent to begin the Sanguin Communion's Cleansing of Anju – 10 K spent to rise to level 5 – 10 K remain

Might – 6 MP spent to rise to level 5 – 2 MP remain
Free – none used – 1 FP remains

[LokiLeo789]

Arguis

Name:
Arguis

Might
10 Might/ 1 FreePoint

Level
4

Domains/Portfolios:
Knowledge
(Nigh Omniscience)

Musical Theme:

Normal:
Feather

War Theme:
Enfin Apparu

Summary

-Quay and party travel to Summi
-Meet a hostile dragon
-Escape into a ravine
-Made it to the Summit

Within a few hundred feet of entering the forest that defined the borders between the Human and Uri Realms, Quay felt blind.

His eyes still worked—he could see mottled light shining on the smooth, silver trunks of the wood, could track the shadows playing over the forest floor—but all he could find in any direction were the trees, stretching on and on over small rises and little streams into forever. He lost his sense of direction, swatted nervously at small biting flies while the pool of sweat on his back grew thicker and slicker. Birds sang above him. Leaves rustled on the path below. The earthy scent of decaying vegetation filled his nostrils.

He had to admit that the trees were beautiful. They stretched to vast heights, higher than the scrubby things he’d seen out on the plains east of Dusis or even the massive oaks in the royal Demesne. Some of them were so tall their tops were hidden by the leaves of smaller trees, others so thick that it would have taken two long-limbed men holding hands to reach around them. They smelled good, too; the air was perfumed with a sweet, flowery odor that reminded him of a scent his mother sometimes wore.

They made him uncomfortable all the same. He had grown used to being able to see for miles over the plains, used to smelling what was coming on the wind.

Quay tried to distract himself by dwelling on his new companions. It turned out that there were ten new Soul weavers. Out of the ten, Quay knew 3, and those were the three that agreed to follow him. The Jin Brother, sons of a merchant who had visited the Palace so many years ago. Cole Jin, the younger brother, was about his height, brown hair, skinny, dark tinted skin. His older brother, Lit Jin, was much taller, black hair lean with dark tinted skin. The third was actually an acquaintance of the Jin brothers, Ryse was her name. She was about as tall as Lit, with fiery red hair, and lighter tinted skin. The rest of the party were well trained warriors, decked out with iron armor, shields, and short swords, they were his personal, royal guard. All in all, there were 10 of them, 6 warriors, 3 commoners, and himself.

The party had been on the road for about 3 days, opting to walk in stead of take a carriage, all in an attempt to avoid drawing attention. Humans were intelligent people, they did not attack on sight, but it was best that they were careful, but the humans were not the only beings to fear.

Just keep moving, Quay thought.

Quay had heard of monsters inhabiting this forest, river beasts, flying beasts, violent animals with insatiable hungers. Quay could have bypassed the whole forest and passed through the Alma Toren Fort, but this route was shorter.

'One cannot regain a lost advantage without accepting risk.' he told himself. The forest was a good risk.

The axiom was written by one of the 6 Counselmen, Eldini to be exact, he was the overseer of the Path of War. The supposition that followed it was Quay's own, and it became a mantra for him. Luckily, for the first 3 days of their journey, they met no opposition. At least until the forth day.

Quay grimaced upon seeing the body of a rotting bear, the top half of his body was ripped off, leaving it's guts to be strewn about. He did his best to work his way around the body, until he stood next to one his royal guards, a woman. She had squatted low to investigate the bear, thrusting her face into the air in front of her.

Her eyes shown wide and bright under her helmet.

"What is it?" Quay asked.

"I'm not sure my Prince." The guard reached for her bow. Her nose twitched. "It's too quiet."

Quay let his hand drift to Trucidator, which hung on his belt in a shortened form for the sake of convenience. The forest was never quiet, birds chirping in their nests, the trees swaying in the wind, the hum of insects-

But at that moment, the stillness remained entirely unbroken.

"Be ready." Quay whispered. He slipped his Lance off his belt and it suddenly extended to its full height, it's blade gleaming in the sun. His message passed from person to person behind him.

For a moment, it was all quiet.

Suddenly, his ears were filled with the sound of flapping wings, and a roar reverberated through the air. Quay slowly look up at the sky, only to meet the gleaming eyes of a dragon.

For a moment, the party was frozen in fear, the legends had called dragons legendary beasts of destruction.

"Run!" Quay yelled back at the party. He turned and sprinted into the forest, jumping over bushes and dodging trees. His party was behind him, running just as hard and as fast as he was. In the distance they could hear the roar of the Dragon and the beating of leathery wings, it was after them.

Quay did not bother looking up, it was obvious what the dragon would do next. He would catch up to them, try and stop their escape. Unfortunately, this was their only chance, running was the best option, fighting it was out of the question. They had yet to get a full grasp of Soul Weaving, it was best they made it to the summit in one piece.

Quay could hear the sounds of rushing, like wind in the mountains or water. Luckily, it was water. 10 feet away was a ravine, it was about 30 feet across, it's 2 sides connected by an old simple wooden bridge. Quay looked over the edge, eyeballing it gave him an estimate of about 60 feet, easily survivable, not to mention the the ravine's waters were flowing in the direction they needed to go.

"Quay, no!" Cole yelled. His parry had finally caught up. Quay could see the fear in his eyes. Their was desperation in Quay's eyes, and ferocity, and madness.

"We have no choice!"

"We'll drown!"

"You don't know that!"

Quay looked back down into the ravine. "We can use this river to carry us closer to the summit, And escape the Dragon. The bridge is not safe." Quay said sternly. He could hear the leathery wings of the dragon grow every closer. Quay stared at Cole in a way that made the others cringe.

"We go. Now!

The world gave one, last, terrible shake, before he plunched into the icy waters of the ravine.

------

Quay strolled confidently and calmly into the grand conference room of Orabson. They had been given the opportunity to change clothes after the situation that had taken place a few days before. The humans were gracious and hospitable, providing them with all the necessities and more. With him was his royal guard, no longer claded in iron armor, but in linen. Quay looked immaculate, like a Prince should be, he did not carry an air of arrogance, but of respect and royalty. Quay bowed to Invidia, showing respect for his age and wisdom. "Grace be with you, Master Invidia." Quay looked up at Invidia, such greetings were customary in his land, maybe a handshake would have also been sufficient.

[Kho]

Battle Brother Zerabil, Prophet of Vowzra, Blessed of Undasis

Level 23 Hero, 2 Khookies

Summary

• Invidia of the Sanguine Communion, Quay of the Uri, Zerabil of Orabson, Chief Kooku of the Stonespears, Chief Tartok of the Bear Tribe, Chief Zarkil of the Jaghnir Tribe and Chief Ilagi of the Shanshir Tribe are all present at the Summit.
• Zerabil begins the meeting, stating that the CimeXeno threat must be crushed, but the question is how it is to be done
• Chief Kooku suggests putting many big boulders between the Realms of Man and the Cimex Territories
• Chief Tartok dismisses that and suggests and quick and ruthless offensive against the Cimex before they are fully prepared
• Chief Ilagi points out that the Cimex are very territorial and surprising them in their own territories would be a mighty feat, impossible for normal people
• The floor is open for further discussion

Feel free to take control of any of the chiefs if your character is present at the summit.

Standing at the head of the great oval table, carved of wood with great care and decorated with all manner of symbols and patterns and intricate designs, Zerabil surveyed those before him. There was the Liaison, the one known as Invidia, who led the Sanguine Communion. It was he who had sent the emissary warning of the looming CimeXeno threat. Masked and robed as he was, and with a sickly sweet smell, he did not appear the most welcoming of figures. Zerabil only hoped he did not act as closed and distant as he appeared. The fact he had sent the emissary suggested he did not, but where had he been all those many years while they fought endlessly against the Dyun? Zerabil could only guess. He held no resentment or hostility towards the man however - at least, he looked like a man, he may well have been a woman with that smell and physique though.

Not too far from Invidia sat the Uri prince, Quay. He appeared a most amiable and respectful being, though still young and inexperienced. From both he and Invidia, he felt the most clear presence of divine energies. He could not pinpoint which divinities, but it was not the Chaotic One - he had a very distinct and immediately recognisable presence. Zerabil knew it well, for he had sensed it amongst the northern people, and he had sensed it also in the village of the dragon-slayers. But there was no chaotic presence here, neither the northern kingdom nor the dragon-slayers had responded to the call.

The Confederates were all here however, their four chiefs sitting proudly round the table. There was Chief Kooku of the Stonespear Tribe, dressed in full fur regalia. He had refused to be parted from his stone-tipped spear and daggers, and so his spear leaned on his chair and his stone daggers lay before him. It would not do to have their allies fighting the advanced Cimex with nothing but stone weaponry, and from what Zerabil knew, they Confederate tribes had not exactly turned Wi into an art-form, they used it as it suited their lives and saw no reason to improve it further. Luckily there were those more forward looking within the Stonespear Tribe, those had managed to trade with their allies and gain some shoddy swords and rag-tag pieces of armour.

There was also Chief Tartok of the Bear Tribe, famed for their bear fur coats and their terrific ululations when they had marched against the Dyun. Strangely enough, they were a tribe of massive people and the bear coats fit their character, and their reddish hair and beards, almost perfectly. They were less rudimentary than their Stonespear allies and had managed to tip their spears with metal, making use of trading with Orabson, whose stockpile of metal was usually high thanks to the monopoly enjoyed over the resources of the Southern Mountains. Chief Zarkil of the Jaghnir Tribe and Chief Ilagi of the Shanshir Tribe were also present, bringing the total number of leaders present at the summit to seven. Quay's guards, after ensuring that there were no traps in place in the conference room, had made their way out, leaving the leaders to discuss the manner in which they would face the threat.

'It is a great honour to host you all here in Orabson. I am glad you have all responded, and I am certain that with the help and will of the gods, we will rise victorious and unconquered over our foes.' Zerabil smiled thinly, allowing his strange eyes to survey the others.
He stood there, his hair braided and tied back and his face sparkling from the cleaning it had received earlier that morning. His face remained stoic even as his thoughts strayed every so slightly towards the two beautiful ladies who had so graciously helped him that morning. Were he not so in control, he knew he would have done much more than just allow them to wash him - they had not allowed any space for doubt about their willingness. Breathing deeply, he righted his red tunic and continued.
'We face a threat today as dangerous to our existence as were the fist great purges by the Xenos against Man. It would appear that, unsatisfied by the death and carnage they have wreaked against us all in the past, the CimeXenos rise once more to finish the job they and their DyunXeno brethren began decades ago. We cannot allow them to do as such. They must be prevented, pushed back, and utterly crushed. This we must do for the safety and future of all races in the land.' he paused and allowed his words to sink in.
'I am certain no one of us had any doubts about what must be done before stepping into this room here today. So, without further delay, let us open the discussion, not for what must be done, for I believe we all know, but for how it must be done.' with that, Zerabil sat himself down and looked towards the others. It was Chief Kooku who spoke first.

'I think...we need to bring a great many rocks. Big rocks. We must put them between us and them and with that, they can never reach us and we will be safe from them!' a brief, awkward moment of silence met his words before Chief Tartok interceded.
'While that is a very...uh...good idea, I think it best be used as a final resort. And even then...' he looked at the others in an almost apologetic manner, 'it is my belief that an offensive stance is best. We should gather our forces and strike quick and hard before they are completely ready. If we can take them out before they have gathered all their forces and marched into our lands, then that will be a victory for the ages!' Chief Tartok, a big and muscular man, chose to bang his fist on the table for effect. He certainly got his point across, and very nearly broke the table too. It was a sturdy thing however and withstood the almighty blow.

'Are these Cimexes not a very territorial race though? They would immediately know we have infringed upon their lands, would they not?' it was Chief Ilagi who had spoken, and his words carried force. As the most powerful tribe in the Confederate, the Shanshir enjoyed great respect and was more or less the leading force. Ilagi also appeared to be a very intelligent man, and the fact that he had chosen to ask rather than point out these simple facts revealed him to be a masterful diplomat. Not wishing to speak, Zerabil looked to the others for input.

[Cyclone]

Ialu, Level 28 Hero

Summary

-The Strong Tribe has grown over the past thirty years, and there are other nearby vassal villages that are also ruled by Ialu. He now has about 600 in the Strong Tribe and 1,400 in vassal tribes.

-Ialu's village has been more extensively fortified and is now built mostly out of mud bricks.

-Ialu has been preparing his people for war. His tribe hunt dragons to make armor and weapons, while the other villages are forging armor and weaponry.

-Ialu has sent an envoy to the summit. He was going to go at first, but changed his mind in favor of challenging the Garakai sooner.

-More dreams. Ialu reached the top of the mountain and now has the 'gift' of Sight.

-Ryak, the emissary at the summit, has assured the others that Ialu will kill the Cimex soon.

The majestic dragon gave out a rather meek and helpless roar as it found the air forced out of its lungs and some strange force violently pulling it to the ground. Crashing down in a heap, it tried to breath fire and incinerate the approaching humans, yet it found that it couldn't even inhale air, much less exhale its flames. Ten of the hunters had their fists clenched as they strained to channel their Wi, using the Strong Tribe's strange telekinesis to cripple the beast.

Ialu found his way to the dragon's side and finished it off by plunging his cutter into its belly. The crude iron thing barely managed to pierce the weak spot between two scales and go deep enough to inflict a mortal wound. Ialu had claimed the Sword of Chaos from the slain Dyun Champion and made use of that blade for some time, but after only a short time he had cast the thing into the darkest depths of a cave, deep in the forboding woods. While the strange sword could cut though anything and its very metal was imbued with the power to obliterate thirty six men, as the Dyun champion had done to Ialu's best hunters that day, the weapon had a way of driving its wielder insane. Every time he gripped its handle Ialu had felt a sick sadism, and while his status as a hero shielded him from some of its negative effects, he still had felt that the thoughts in his mind were not his own whenever he touched the thing.

If he ever needed it again, he would reclaim it from that cave, but he doubted such a day would ever come. His bare hands and his Wi were weapons that could slay dragons. The thought of dragons snapping him back into reality, Ialu looked back down to the one that he had just slain. Over the past thirty years he had lost count of how many dragons he had slain. A dozen, perhaps?

In any case, their deaths were necessary. The voice of the Mighty One had commanded Ialu to go to war, and so he would obey. He had been making preparations for the past few months, and hunting this dragons had been one of them. The Strong Tribe needed more armor and spears if they were to raise a proper army like the upcoming conflict demanded, and to achieve those ends they had needed more dragon hides and teeth. Ialu was of course more than willing to solve this problem.

As his ten hunters used their telekinesis to carry the fallen beast back to the village, they passed a macabre sight. The once pure and golden grassland was now marred by the sight of corpses in various states of decay. Some were impaled, where others swayed in the somber wind as they hanged from the occasional tree. Still others had been crucified or flayed and nailed to racks. All the wretches were put in places where they could be seen along the roads.

The skeletal remains of none were allowed to touch the ground. Burial was for the noble; the ilk that Ialu executed would not be allowed to taint the soil of his land with their touch, even in death. Many of the mutilated remains were of the Dyun that had attacked some time ago, though admittedly some were human. Ialu was just yet harsh when it came to punishing banditry and the like.

At last, Ialu came close to his village. With admiration he gazed upon it, remembering the first days when it was little more than a dozen hovels. Now the moats had been widened and deepened with abatises placed in front. The pallisades were taller and reinforced, and there were watchtowers and an actual gate at the entrance. Several homes were in disrepair as a result of the fires that had swept through the village when the Dyun Champion had unleashed chaos, yet in reality that had been something of a blessing. By burning away the pathetic wooden huts and hovels, it had cleared room for better houses. Ialu's pathetic Mighty Hut was gone, transformed into what he now called his Mighty Cottage! Sections of the village had already been rebuilt in sturdy mud brick, and what ramshackle huts remained would be replaced soon enough. After that the walls would be improved.

The Strong Tribe had grown over the past thirty years, and their fortress of a village now housed in excess of five hundred people. It was as dense as it could possibly get, for there was no more room within the walls and the nearby river could only feed so many people. Of course, hordes of refugees had flocked into Ialu's arms during the past decades, coming in search of safety from the Cimex, the terrors of the night, or even the so-called Garakai 'Kingdom'. The Garakai Kingdom was the one that the Mighty One had commanded Ialu to conquer.

Of course, Ialu was not one to turn down the prospect of more loyal subjects. So rather than overcrowd the Strong Tribe, he settled the refugees nearby. These vassal tribes would be close enough to be easily ruled and defended, yet far enough so that there would be breathing room and they would have their own land to farm, hunt, and fish. These villages were assembled in a rough ring around his main village, which had the added advantage of making the Strong Tribe even harder to assault. Taking them by surprise would now be difficult as it would mean slipping past the outer villages.

Fortifications, making his tribe harder to assault, preparing them for war...such thoughts filled the chieftain's mind the moment after he ceased reminiscing about far he had come and returned back to reality. The Strong Tribe had been crafting spears, armor, and cutters for nearly half their people, as Ialu intended to take than just his hunters to war. The vassal tribes were more liek the rest of humanity. Rather than learn the Strong Tribe's form of Wi or craft equipment out of dragonhide and teeth, they forged armor and weapons like the fire god had taught them. While Ialu forced all the vassal tribes to worship the Mighty One, he gave them the freedom to pray to the lesser gods as well. They were not a part of the Strong Tribe, after all; they were not the Mighty One's chosen tribe. They did not need to be held to the same standards.

Upon entering his home to further make preparations for the inevitable war against the Cimex, a messenger arrived. It would seem that he would not have to fight the Cimex alone, for forces in far south were rallying to meet the challenge as well, and they requested his presence at a gathering of all the great leaders of men. Ialu recognized one name in particular: Zerabil. He had never met Zerabil in person, yet he had heard rumors. The chieftain also recalled that this same 'Zerabil' had once tried to corrupt his tribe, many decades ago. Fortunately it had been to no avail and the tribesmen had remained devoted to only the Mighty One, as befitted his most loyal tribe, yet Ialu still held Zerabil with some contempt. The chieftain had been filled with rage upon returning from his hunt that fateful week, only to learn that a strange preacher had tried to corrupt his tribe.

In any case, Ialu was wiser than he once was, and he was willing to set aside that past slight. He would attend this summit, though he worried that it would take precious time that he did not have. After all, he needed to defeat the Garakai king and rally his men before the Cimex attacked. Ialu set out within a day of receiving the messenger. He brought a bodyguard of eight men and two of his most grizzled sergeants, both friends and trusted advisers.

The first day of arduous trekking down the paths brought them far; in fact, Ialu realized with a start that he had not been so far from his village since he had founded it. Had he really been rotting away in some corner of the world, never wandering the land like he had in the past? In any case, when Ialu at last fell asleep he eagerly fell into a deep slumber.

~==--==--==~

In all this time, Ialu had still not reached the mountain's summit. The higher he climbed, the higher it loomed. The larger he got, the smaller the handholds that he found. But alas, there was now nothing below him yet ghostly white clouds. There was nothing above save the black mountain, or at least a little bit more of it. The peak was within his reach now; there was a ledge only just above his head, tantalizingly close yet barely out of his reach. Yet there was nothing to grip between where Ialu now was and the ledge at the top of the precipice.

He had been forced to merely cling to the side of the mountain. He had been grasping onto it for years, not seeing what to do. Yet tonight, at last, his patience evaporated. Risking everything, he released both hands from where they stood, and before he fell back, he jumped. It was not enough; his fingertips barely missed the edge. He began to fall down, having thrown away everything with that foolish risk...

But he refused to move down. Gravity could not break his will, not here in the land of black and white. He drifted back to the cliff's face and scrabbled up its smooth surface to grip the edge. With a heave, he pulled himself up and finally saw the top of the mountain, the thing that had plagued his dreams for as long as he could remember. At the summit he beheld another color, not like the blacks and whites of the rest of his dreams: a brilliant golden light, awe striking in its blinding splendor, a thousand times brighter than the sun. It was too much to withstand, its sheer brilliance throwing Ialu back and casting him over the edge.

~==--==--==~

When he awoke he did not feel in good health, for the first time he could remember. The thirty years since his village's first days had exacted no toll on his body; he looked every bit as muscled and powerful as he had before, whereas those around him had withered. Never once had he been afflicted with sickness, never had he been burned, and not since his first encounter with the Dyun when he was mere days old had he bled or been scarred.

Yet now his mind rang with a thunderous sound that left him dizzy and barely able to think. His own eyes betrayed him, for they kept seeing that same golden light from his dreams. The light was just as overwhelming to his unprepared mind, yet it was strangely and thankfully not omnipresent as it had been in his dreams. Rather, it only illuminated the path behind Ialu's party, glowing in a golden trail that led back to his village. To walk a few steps in that direction was relief and salvation, yet to continue on his trek was to know pain and invite back the ringing in his ears and horrendous headaches. Ever determined, Ialu pushed forward and fought the pain like a wild and cornered animal fought its hunter; however, he was unusually silent and slow, weakness evident in his every motion.

He only managed to continue until midday before collapsing. His bodyguard and sergeants were terrified, having never seen such human frailty or vulnerability in Ialu. He was indomitable, daunting, and inhuman: like a god. In reality, the Strong tribe and even some of the vassal tribes worshiped the ground that he walked on as if he really was one of the gods. He was far more real to them than the true gods. While those 'true' gods might occasionally send their minions to teach humans the ways of the forge or otherwise interact with the people, the humans never truly witnessed those gods in flesh, blood, and impossible might as they did every day with Ialu.

~==--==--==~

Struck down by the light's fury and the pounding in his own head, the unconscious Ialu instantly fell into a deep sleep and returned to the dream world. The dream (or was it truly a nightmare?) resumed right where it had ended before, with Ialu being cast off the summit's side by the sheer force and unadulterated power of whatever the golden light's source was. Like before, he did not fall back down the mountain, though this time it was not his own will that defied gravity. Rather, it was the will of something far stronger: the Great Light atop the mountain.

His eyes having grown somewhat used to the light from its appearance in the real world, Ialu was able to vaguely perceive what was atop the summit. A mere dozen stairs led to the very top of the mountain, where there stood a figure, though the blinding light denied Ialu's eyes the ability to so much as even look directly at that figure, much less discern it.

A thunderous voice shook the mountain so violently that it pulverized stone. The power conveyed by it was indescribable, a thousand times greater than the voice of the Mighty One when Ialu had slain the Dyun Champion. It roared out to Ialu, "WHY DO YOU SQUANDER THE GIFT THAT I HAVE BESTOWED UPON YOU? THE SIGHT GUIDES YOU. YOU MUST OBEY. FOLLOW THE PATH OF LIGHT. STOP WASTING OUR TIME. GO NORTH AND CONQUER THE GARAKAI. CLAIM WHAT IS YOURS AND GROW STRONGER."

Ialu, the great hero like a flea before this being, tried to ask if this being was the Mighty One. All that could come out was an empty croak.

"NO," the voice thundered back, the force behind that one word enough to propel him out of this reality and awaken him in the real world.

~==--==--==~

Ialu awoke as suddenly as he had collapsed. Hardly five minutes had passed during his brief dream. His eyelids snapped open. From the fierce and determined look in his gaze, the tribesmen instantly knew that their leader had returned after banishing whatever foul spirits had possessed him or shaking free of any curses. Still, there was something...strange that they had seen. When his eyelids first opened, they had seen a spark as bright as the sun within those aquamarine eyes for a brief moment. Even after that spark was gone, his eyes were faintly gleaming with that same rich, golden hue.

Jumping back to his feet, Ialu suddenly spoke, "I was a fool to come to this meeting. My destiny is elsewhere. I must return to our village and assemble the army; we will march for Garakai within a fortnight."

Quickly instructing his party to continue on without him and on what they should say at the summit, Ialu turned back at ran at an impossible pace back for the village. Following the golden path, the hero knew no exhaustion.

~==--==--==~

After that, the party trekked on for many days without their chieftain, getting lost more than once in the strange and foreign lands. At last, they arrived to the summit. Admittedly they were late, the talks having already begun, but that was of no concern to the rather crude warriors and hunters. At last, the ten arrived at Orabson. Ryak, one the two sergeants that had went with the party, was chosen to be their representative. He would be better at talking than any of the bodyguards or Thorn Skull-Smasher, as the other sergeant was named.

Barging into the small room, he took up a spot at the head of the table across from Zerabil. He needed to be at the head of the table to look important. Ryak grunted, "Mighty Ialu was going to come, but then he changed his mind. He had important stuff to do, some people to slay for the Mighty One. So he sent me, Ryak the Hunter!"

Breaking a short and awkward pause that followed, Ryak continued, "Ialu wants you to know that he will all the Cimex sometime soon. He'll add the bugs to our field." Suddenly realizing that these people might not understand what he meant about the field, Ryak explained, "We have a field of Dyun and other things that we kill. Some nailed to things, some on big spikes, some hanging from ropes."

At that Ryak laughed at the fond memories of the field. It was obvious that Ialu chose his sergeants based on their blind loyalty and talent for killing, rather than intelligence, diplomacy, or any other form of wisdom. Sill, Ryak's strange dragonhide armor and grizzled appearance revealed that he was no weakling. He had fought dragon, Cimex, and Dyun alike in his time, and the scars made him strong.

[Hael]

A super-duper short post, because I ran out of time

The waves cut violently through the endless expanse of the grey ocean beneath them, searching for their ignorant target.

They found it: there was a little wooden boat, bobbing happily along. Judging from the design and fashion, one could easily tell that it originated in the north, from the Sviebard colonies. A delicately woven and striped sail guided the ship from above, whereas sailors carrying lengthened paddles pushed it from below.

The seeking waves drew ever closer to their victims.

"Captain!" A deathly panicked voice called out, "A Terror!"
The Captain of the ship lurched out of his seat at the sound of certain fear in his first mate's tone. He sprinted like lightning to the bow of his vessel. Gazing into the deep blue of the sea, he saw that the fearful sailor had been right.

Lurking beneath them was silent and waiting death, a grotesquely large and distorted beast. The horror was not made any more tolerable by the thin layer of water between it and the defenseless boat.

The word Terrorfish flashed through Captain Svil's mind. He was in shock. This could not be happening, this creature was one of legend and myth, out of children's stories and the ravings of mad old sailors. But, for all his disbelief, the slimy sea-monster did not vanish. It's body stayed stock still, but it's single, yellow eye seemed to follow the Captain's gaze- as if the monstrosity knew it had been discovered.

The massive waves still relentlessly charged forward.

"Turn the ship round! Quickly, quickly, back for the shores! We are being hunted!" Sweat was dripping down the red-faced captain.

The waves were dangerously close, now.

"Captain, the tide and waves are against us." The sailors had not yet noticed the threat.
"By Kraken, I don't care! A Terror is coming for us!"
A cold shudder of shock ran through the small fishing crew. They were not prepared. No defenses, no escape boats, and not a weapon between them. It was every man's worst dream come to life. A few of the men on board attempted to bend fishing hooks and rods into pathetic make-shift harpoons to match the single one they had, as if it were actually possible to slay such a thing with mundane tools.

The waves were in view.

"Captain...do you...do you see that?
Svil saw it, alright. He had been in dangerous situations aboard before, but nothing like this. He crumpled down to his knees, praying to the gods. Undasis- to calm the waves; Svieand- the Lord of his homelands; Escre- to treat his soul with mercy, should the other gods ignore him and he perish.

The waves suddenly twisted and pulled down, heading instead for the Terrorfish. They hit it. It was suddenly cast against the rocks it had been leaning on, it's skin- for the first time in it's life- tearing like paper, and it's muscles snapping away. A single command seemed to travel through the essence of the ocean, reaching the fish's small mind with all the force of a god- Leave them be.

The crew was left miraculously unharmed, and left to tell the mercy of Undasis's waves to the rest of the Sviebarden.

-_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_-

It did not turn out nearly as well for the Terrorfish. As it swam for the safety of its undersea cave, it noticed it's skin starting to harden and become immobile, while it's fearful eyes began to glaze over and shine like rubies- for that's what they were becoming.

The creatures eyes turned to rubies and it's skin to marvelous stone and marble. It's teeth transformed to diamond. It was a beautiful, motionless statue, eternally caught in a fit of fear and desperation.

The Terrofish was not the only thing to undergo this shocking transformation. The walls of it's cave became a matching red and contrasting blue, and half of the water drained out, leaving it possible for both air-breathers and sealife to visit the location.

The water sparkled as brightly as the stars in the sky, and multi-coloured wisps of light flew playfully in the air above. Any who entered would be overwhelmed with a sense of peace and safety, and a knowledge that this place was a most holy site of Undasis.

Mighty Summary

6 Might spent to create the "Hidden Cove" holy site.
0 Might and one Freepoint remain.

[Kho]

Turn 6

Turn 6 god Might:

Vowzra - Level 5 - 13 Might - 2 Might 2 Free Points Carried from Previous Turn, 3 Might from Orabil - 3 Free Points

Arguis - Level 4 - 16 Might - 9 Might 1 Free Point Carried from Previous Turn - 2 Free Point (1 Might was automatically removed for weapon given to Quay)

Vestec - Level 4 - 9 Might - 2 Might 1 Free Point Carried from Previous Turn - 2 Free Points

Astarte - Level 5 - 12 Might - 4 Might 2 Free Points Carried from Previous Turn - 3 Free Points

Sveiand - Level 4 - 9 Might - 2 Might 2 Free Points Carried from Previous Turn - 3 Free Points

Undasis - Level 4 - 10 Might - 0 Might 1 Free Point Carried from Previous Turn, 3 Might from Holy Cove - 2 Free Points

Ferghus - Level 5 - 8 Might - 0 Might 2 Free Points Carried from Previous Turn - 3 Free Points

Sauranath - Level 4 - 21 Might - 14 Might 2 Free Points Carried from Previous Turn - 3 Free Points

Escre - Level 5 - 14 Might - 1 Might 1 Free Point Carried from Previous Turn, 5 Might accumulated from Astral Home - 2 Free Points (1 Might was automatically removed for magic taught to Quay)

Turn 6 Demigod Might:

[ActRaiserTheReturned]

((Edited))

[ActRaiserTheReturned]

The Dragons And Prey War
The dragons were still mighty and powerful creatures. However, Sauranath finally awoke from his sleep to see the creatures who he viewed as his children as being hunted for more than fear. They were being hunted for sport. Sauranath made a roar that shook the stars. The night sky rained down stars on the world down below. Those who hunted dragons for sport, the Cimex, had earned the wrath of the dragon's breath. Sauranath's feral dragons, the massive tyrannosaurs that were now being used for their parts like animals were the most fierce creatures of the world now. . . Sauranath breathed new life into utterance, speaking words calling forth, as if by wielding the mighty sword against his enemies with every breath. Minions of the peoples hunting the stars were now in danger.

Mirtagn soared through the night sky. He roared in both the dawn and dusk hour. Unheard of magics, with the fullness of power of any magic ever taught among mortal kind was fully inside Mirtagn's body. His scales, his bones, his entirety of being. Villages, towns, sometimes cities. Mirtagn destroyed enemies in every-way possible. Cries of the defenselessness, inability to defend themselves, and anguish, mingled with mind blowing surprise from all enemies were the theme of the new days.

Hider

-12 Might spent to raise a level 1 Hero and raise it to level 12. The oldest Crystal Dragon, named Mirtagn.
-3 Free Points spent on empowering the oldest Crystal Dragon, Mirtagn in the stars to come down. The Creature soared through night skies... With the hardest of bodies any Dragon ever had. His magic tore through any mortals, and even Wi users looked in awe in how the Dragons changed from victims to more than over-comers.
-6 Might spent to boost Sauranath from level 4 to level 5.
-3 Might spent to Bless the Dragonkinds, all broods, with a much higher fertility rate stars are suddenly appearing where none were before.
-1 Might to form the Dragons into larger societies.
-1 Might to form an Avatar, Sauranath is in the form of a massive Crystal Dragon.

[Kho]

The Summit of (ಥ益ಥ)
AKA
The Great Summit

Cyclone,
Kho,
Lugubrious
&
LokiLeo789

Summary

• The Summit gets under way
• Ryak keeps going on about how amazing Ialu is throughout the meeting and how he will destroy the Cimex single-handedly
• Chief Kooku keeps insisting on bringing many rocks and putting them between the Realms of Man and Cimex Territory
• Invidia suggests using tactics and stealth to weaken the Cimex
• Quay suggests opening up a two-front war with the Cimex. He also suggests attempting a sea-landing with boats.
• Zerabil points out that the sea was a very dangerous and unpredictable thing to use.
• Zerabil then suggests a combination of stealth and a quick, crushing offensive into Cimex Territories, using the Sanguine Communion as a vanguard to ensure the main force is undetected.
• Ryak says Ialu will do no such thing and will just kill all the Cimex his own way.
• Invidia whispers to Zerabil that the Strong Tribe should be sent in as a distraction, charging straight into Cimex Territory and wreaking havoc, thus ensuring the Sanguine Communion vanguard does its job even better.
• Zerabil proposes the revised plan: open two fronts on the Cimex as Quay suggested, sending the Strong Tribe from the north and the main force from the south, with the Sanguine Communion acting as a vanguard, skirmishing and scouting enemy territory.
• Invidia reveals to Zerabil that the Outsiders are being hunted by the Anjus, and he tells him how he can summon Outsiders to him.

Strategy Outline:

Zerabil had sensed their coming before they barged in, though he had not been entirely prepared for the sudden speech their leader - or he assumed he was their leader - proceeded to give. His face remained calm, however, cold even. He recognised this one - was he not the very same man who had asked him what he wanted when he had visited their village all those years ago? Yes, Zerabil's eyes did not lie to him.
'Please, feel free to seat yoursef down, though you do look rather...tired. Would you not like to escort your guards out and perhaps wash yourself and get a change of clothes? I am certain you will feel much better after cleaning off the dirt and sweat of travel.' he paused and allowed a small smile to light up his face.
'Otherwise, your men are not needed here, they can leave and some of our attendants can see them to the guest quarters, and we can continue our discussion.'

Kooku grunted at Zerabil's words and gave the newcomers a suspicious look. He had heard of these dragon-slayers, many of his people had run off seeking refuge with them over the years. It did not please Kooku that they went about thinking they were gods and slaying dragons for no other reason than to slay dragons. Any idiot could slay dragons. If he wanted, he could slay ten. No, twenty. And he would not break a sweat either! Pah.

Ryak looked at Zerabil, his eyes squinting in suspicion. Did this one intend to have them leave so that they could plot behind his back? It was unacceptable. Dismissively he told Zerabil, grimacing as the prophet smiled, "I like these clothes more than any that you have. The guards," he shot them a look before continuing, "...can leave as you ask."

Zerabil bowed his head in aquiescence to the decision of the other. He waved for him to sit down and bean explaining what had been discussed thus far.
'I believe we are all in agreement on the fact that the CimeXeno threat must be eliminated. We are currently discussing how best to go about it. It has been suggested that we...' Zerabil decied then that it would be for the best to pretend that Kooku's suggestion had never existed, 'that we attack quickly and with force before the Xenos have time to prepare fully and march upon us. It has been noted, however, that such would be a nigh on impossible task given the stealth requirement needed to sneak upon these highly territorial creatures. So, what is to be done?'

Ryak shrugged. Once again, he repeated, "Mighty Ialu will kill them." He added, "Just like he killed the Dyun's boss."

Zerabil looked at the man for a few seconds.
'Then all out problems are sorted, I believe. We will simply send the Mighty Ialu into the CimeXeno territories and they will simply...annihilate themselves upon seeing him.' his words carried no venom as such, but he did allow a tinge of mockery to make it through, 'I appreciate your great respect for your leader, but we are here to discuss how we all can eliminate this threat once and for all, quickly, efficiently and without incurring the wrath of the Xenos and causing needless deaths for all in our care.' with that, his gaze turned to the others. The Liaison and the prince had been oddly quiet, he wondered what was going on behind that mask Invidia wore...

"The Dyun were savages, deadly at first to the frightened, but no more than a bother to those at all equipped for war. They were abandoned by the High One that created them when the Primal Chaos found human savagery tastier." Invidia leaned on his cane, affixing all those present with his mask's blank gaze. "The Cimex have community, organization, and above all, the one gift that has allowed them to survive: evolution. Whatever doesn't kill them makes them stronger. When fighting with Uri or men, a few always survive to benefit the whole. The Sanguine Communion has taken a different approach, one that has not allowed this to occur, sustaining our advantage. Marching into enemy territory for a straight battle is suicide, for we'll receive no straight battle. Allowing the foe to come into our lands is foolish, for even if we had every advantage, some of our people would perish."

"My point is this: mere strength is not enough. We must devise a tactic. For my part, I suggest sending raiding parties of my monks to start hunting down strays, wiping out smaller hives, and forcing them to play the defensive game. If you take an axe to a tree, the bark may hold and even break the axe, but if you start pulling out roots, the tree will grow weak."

For once in his life, Quay felt utterly inferior. He sat surrounded by powerful world leaders, much wiser, and more experienced than he was. He was a cub in the face of full grown lions. Despite that, Quay kept his calm and confident look, keeping his emotions under the surface. He focused on the task at hand, fighting the Cimex. Although he saw the Chiefs as wiser, some did not seem all that wise. One suggested to surround themselves with rock. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Chief had failed to realize that the Cimex could could fly of just jump over them if need be. In an act of respect, and maybe to save the feelings of the man, Chief Tartok suggested it be used as a last resort, and went on with his plan. Strike first and fast, take the offensive. The problem with that plan was the fact it left the Cimex to play the waiting game. Allowing th Cimex to play defense is what they would want, fight on their turf, the Sherima Jungle was a dangerous place, and they most likely understood its ins and outs. Fighting them in such a place would be suicide. Quay's stomach churned, he had been up late the night before thinking of a plan.

"Yes. They are very territorial, but we can use that to our advantage." Quay replied, his eyes hard and calculating. He was about to make his suggestion when he was interrupted by a newcomer. He seemed to be extremely confident in the strength and power of their leader. No doubt that such reverence could not be unfounded. But the monks made a good point, fighting the Cimex on their land, or in the jungle was dangerous, whether they liked it or not, the Cimex had the upper hand. The Monks plan was to send his brethren into Cimexian land to hunt smaller hives, force them into a defensive stance.

"One cannot regain an advantage, unless risks are taken. Your plan makes sense. But what stops them from Turtling you. The Cimex are very unpredictable. I belive that plan will work if we force them into a 2 front war." Quay suggested, looking to the eyes of each of the men. "We attack from the south, utilizing our boats to siege the Hive on the south coast. If we can take that Hive, that's a quarter of their territory gone. If we capture that point, our boats can circle the west coast and hit the Great Hive from behind. They will be busy fighting the war on the other front.

Shaking his head, Zerabil pointed out that the sea was a very dangerous and unpredictable thing to use. They could not guarantee the pleasure of Undasis, and their boats would be tiny. To get a reasonable force across they would need many hundreds, if not thousands of boats. Such a number would not got unnoticed by the Xenos even if it did manage to land. A few of the tribal chiefs nodded in agreement. They certainly did not want to be riding the waves, sturdy ground was a safer bet anyday.
'Maybe we can get the Mighty Ialu to lead the boats across, I'm sure HE'LL manage to get them across,' Kooku said giving Ryak a mocking look.

Ryak retorted to those that questioned his master, "If you saw Ialu you'd know. Swords can't kill him. Fire can't. Dragons can't. He'll kill the Cimex." Admittedly the words rang hollow, as he said this half to convince himself after having seen their master collapse in the beginning of their journey. Still, he truly believed that Ialu was invincible.

Zerabil listened in silence as the others spoke their mind. He had to admit he felt a tinge of pity for Ryak, he was so in awe of his leader that he seemed simply unable to think of any scenario where he did not simply march in and sieze victory by pure brute force. If it said anything, it said that this dragon-slayer tribe was almost childishly dependent on their absurdly powerful leader, without him they were simply another tribe. It was undeniable, though, that when it came to pure size there were none larger than the dragon-slayers and their vassals. Other than the worshippers of the Chaotic One in the far north. Zerabil was more than slightly suspicious about the lack of response from them. He did not doubt that they were up to something.

'Yes, my friend, Chief Ialu will most certainly kill the CimeXenos,' Zerabil assured the half-desperate Ryak, 'we are just attempting to devise a plan to ensure his job as made all that much easier. So try to think of ways to aid your leader rather than depend on his strength alone.' he gave him a warm smile, attempting to show the man that they were all friends here and their interests were one and the same.

'I believe we have, perhaps unwittingly, devised a rather formidable strategy,' Zerabil continued as he turned his head to the others, 'we must attack in a manner that would not alert the territorial Xenos to our presence, and simultaneously, we must be completely aware of their actions. If we, as the honourable Invidia has proposed, send in the monks of the Sanguine Communion as a scouting and skirmishing vanguard, that can act as a cover for our advancing main force.' he paused and allowed his words to sink in before continuing.

'We must gather up all we have, ready the steeds of war and ensure that there is none but works towards the war effort. Our forces must be supplied constantly, moreso than ever once we enter enemy territory. If the monks carry out their tasks well, the Xenos will not be aware of our presence and none will be in our vicinity in order to raid our supply lines or attack our flanks. It will be a very delicate task. There annihilation will be turned into an art-form and our losses will be kept to an absolute minimum. Like this, we can march from one hive to another, eliminating all those who detect us while completely uprooting their unprepared bases.' he thought for a bit before adding one final word.

'The only issue, of course, and I am not sure if we are all aware, but these Xenos have an ability to connect their minds at points, thus becoming one. They usually do not, but should they do so in the midst of this operation, we will be exposed and in unfathomable danger. Vowzra's Victors, however, will not shy away from all out combat if it comes to that. We will carve a path of blood and ruin to the heart of the Xeno enemy, and we will exterminate them from the face of the earth. For the sake of Man and for peace,' he gave Quay a quick glance, 'and for the sake of all peaceful Xenos, of course.'

"While you all try that," Ryak grunted, obviously not so impressed by the plan to use stealth, "Ialu will be uniting the Mighty One's people. There's some Garakai Kingdom in the north. They call the Mighty One by some other name, because they're stupid. But Ialu will kill their leader, since the Mighty One spoke to him and told him to do that. Then he'll have two armies to squash the bugs with, because the Mighty One promised that the Garakai would follow him if he defeated their king."

After having explained Ialu's plan, Ryak continued, "Ialu probably already killed their king. He doesn't lose fights, their king is good as dead." Once again, Ryak shrugged. "He might already be starting to kill all those...what's that funny name you use? Those Xenies."

Holding a hand to his chest where the envenomed claws of the Anju had wounded him, and trying to keep his breathing steady, Invidia considered what the best course of action might be. He held his free hand up to signal Zerabil before hobbling his way. Zerabil nodded to the masked man and leaned in as he spoke.
"The Strong Tribesmen are too blinded by their shining leader to see anything else," he murmured. "I propose we let the Tribe do exactly as they want--charge headfirst into enemy territory, reaping destruction in their path, straight for the Great Hive. If they manage to succeed, good. If they fail, they've at least caused a mighty distraction, and my vanguard will be able to eliminate supply lines and small hives even easier." Zerabil leaned back and thought carefully about this suggestion. It was clear that the dragon-slayers were not going to be cooperating or going about this tactically. It would be for the best to allow them to do what they were best at while the main force advances strategically. If anything, the Cimex may be deceived into believing the brutish dragon-slayer assault was the main attack and fail to notice the rest of the force. Zerabil nodded in acceptance of Invidia's suggestion.

Throughout this exchange, most of what was discussed seemed to go over the head of Chief Kooku. Once more he spoke out, frustrated that his idea was being ignored, "But look at how many people we have! We could have hundreds of rocks moving at once. Thousands of rocks. We could stack them up and build a big wall. Keep out all the bugs."

'That is an idea for another time, perhaps after we have purged the Xeno threat into something that can be kept back by a mere barrier. As things are, the Xeno enemy is far too powerful to be held back by mere rocks.' turning back to the others, he spoke with confidence.

'I believe our dragon-slayer friend may have a point. Ialu and the dragon-slayer tribe are a mighty force, we must rely on their strength to pave the way. Thus, I propose that we send in the mighty Strong Tribe and let them wreak havoc upon our enemy from the northern border, striking downwards into Xeno territory. In the meanwhile, the Sanguine Communion will begin operations along the southern border, scouting and skirmishing, acting as a vanguard for our advancing main force. While the Strong Tribe distracts the Xenos in the north, we will wipe out their hives and breeding grounds before circling round and supporting the Strong Tribe.' Zerabil looked to the others for opinions.

'This is a good plan. Much better than the first you suggested which put too much emphasis on luck to avoid detection of the main force,' Chief Ilagi said, and Chief Zarkil agreed. Chief Tartok on the other hand vehemently rejected it, he thought that they should all strike from the north along with the Strong Tribe, all this skirmishing and scouting business the Sanguine Communion was for cowards, he insisted. Chief Kooku did not seem to have heard Zerabil's words before and once more insisted on his plan.
'I call it, the Great Rock Plan,' he said seriously. Zerabil sighed and turned to the other three. It seemed that it all depended on them whether the plan went ahead or did not.

Ryak looked satisfied. "Yup! Don't you worry, Ialu will kill them all," he loudly declared, and with that, he threw the doors open and left as crudely as he had walked in. He joined with his other bodyguards. The party then took advantage of the town's hospitality by eating as much food as they could stomach before preparing for the journey home.

A plan agreed upon, Invidia treated the remaining members with a bow. "Then all is settled. The Sanguine Communion will begin the hunt immediately. There will be no survivors." He took a few unsteady steps toward the exit, but turned and hesitantly looked back toward Zerabil. "Sir, might I have a private word?" Zerabil respectfully saluted the last of the Confederate chiefs to leave the conference room before turning to Invidia.

'Of course,' he signalled for the guards to close the doors after the chiefs left and offered the clearly struggling man a hand to one of the seats.

The outsider accepted the hand and sat, holding a hand to his chest. He pointed his head in Zerabil's direction, giving the impression that he'd turned to look at him. "Doubtless you've been wondering why I've been in such a state. I was attacked by a monstrous demon, a creature, we suspect, of the Primal Chaos. The Communion is hunting for them, but they are few, and they lurk in the shadows, sowing discord and killing a select few. You must alert your followers to this phantom menace. To know how to find them, you must know their prey."

Zerabil looked at the other quizzically, whatver could he mean? He had heard of creatures who dwell in the shadows, his father had told him of a race, similar to humans yet not so, who had come into being along with them. He had never seen them, however, and there was very little about them that he did know. Could the monstrosities Invidia referred to be preying on them? Or did he believe them to be monstrosities who preyed on monks? The monk continued.

"You are not alone on this planet. I'm not talking about Uri, or Cimex, or the now-extinct Dyun, or the night terrors, or animals on land or sea. I speak of a race born in the same instant as humanity, but on the flipside of these coin. They exist in cities, towns, villages, and hamlets, trying to fit in among a race they envy but never resent for all that makes us human. They are outsiders, black of skin and faceless, with great, orange eyes in their torsos. Masters of disguise, they hide among humans, and it is them that the demons seek to slaughter. But they will not hesitate to kill any humans that get in their way. To find outsiders, venture into places populated by humans, find a secluded spot at night, and chant aloud, 'Poor stranger, come in from the darkness and cold' until one appears. They will serve you, and you will, I hope, protect them." Zerabil's eyes widened at this revelation. Despite his iron will and stoic ways, he could not help but let his shock reveal itself.

'Could it be that-' but before he could finish, Invidia pushed himself to his feet and made for the exit.
"See you on the battlefield." Zerabil stared after the man...if man he was, and he noticed that his mouth was hanging slightly ajar. He closed it and let out a long sigh.

He would have to seek out those Outsiders who lived under his protection, the monstrosities of the Chaotic One could not be allowed to harm them. He knew very little about Outsiders, but if there was one thing he did know, it was that they were important to the survival of Man. In fact, were they not also of Mankind? With that final thought, Zerabil left the conference room and set about preparing Orabson for war.

[ActRaiserTheReturned]

Mirtagn, Sauranath, as the Avatar, and no less than fifty Skeletal Dragons all soared into the Council Meeting place. Sauranath assumed Human form. Sauranath assumed a predatory lunge, soaring at the leaving members of the council. "Oh, so sorry". Sauranath said in a gutteral, sardonic harshness of tone, as he pinned one of the delegates down. Thirty skeletal dragons soared across the area, hunting down the delegates and their guards. Mirtagn himself began to route out the armies from behind, breathing crystallized energy breath, the breath tore apart or disintegrated the mortal bodies quite easily.

The Skeletal Brood were all dead dragons, trained to kill and annihilate any who came across their way not of the dragons. They could steal breathe their weapons of fire, thunder and ice. . . it would be difficult to kill them, however, unless their skulls were totally crushed.

[Scarifar]

Collab between me and Rtron

Ferghus began the rather tedious task of picking out items within his armory and sending them to his forge in Mt. Vulcan. One couldn't just have nothing but a furnace and anvil, after all, and it was his job to pick out what it was that he needed for both inspiration and convenience. In the middle of this, however, Ferghus detected a prayer. A prayer for him. Well, it seems like his Arma Igna have done a great job, especially now that prayers were being received. Ferghus wasted no time teleporting his Avatar to the location of the one praying. Appearing in a pillar of flames that quickly extinguished themselves, Ferghus examined the surrounding area. A temple. A rather dark one, by the looks of it. Ferghus could make an educated guess as to who this was dedicated to. There was also a man kneeling near a small shrine that looked like it was meant for Ferghus. "So, you're the fellow who's been praying to me, huh?" Ferghus asked, crossing his arms. Then he grinned and continued, "Well, came to the right god, Mr.... I don't think I caught your name."

Viscardi whirled around as flames erupted in the temple. As he saw who it was, the self proclaimed Lord of the North fell to one knee before the God of the Forge, head down. "My name is Viscardi, Lord of the Forge. And yes, I have been the one praying to you for a weapon. Does this mean you've come to state your terms?" He made sure to be very polite sounding and keep his head down. His life would suddenly become very short if he angered a God.

"My terms... Hmm..." Ferghus thought out loud. This guy was at least rather polite, although that was probably just because he was dealing with a god. Then Ferghus' mind wandered off and he muttered, "So that's where those 2 Arma Igna went. Damn that Vestec." As his mind returned to the present, he remembered he was dealing with someone. "Ah, yes, a weapon," Ferghus said. "Lucky for you, you are the first one to call me. I'm being generous here, so don't squander this. You're getting this weapon for free."

Viscardi kept his head down and his exuberance out of his voice. "Thank you, Lord of the Forge, for your generosity." He just hoped that Ferghus wouldn't blame the followers of Vestec for the actions of the God. They just reaped the benefits, they didn't participate in the act.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ferghus said. Ferghus then reached into his mind to find his preferred fighting style. "Hmm..." Ferghus said. "I see..." After a moment, Ferghus said, "Alright, one sword coming up," and teleported a two-handed sword from his armory, complete with sheath as well. Ferghus then drew the sword and concentrated deeply on it. The sword began to glow bright orange, and Ferghus teleported his hammer Pyrkagia into his other hand. A few strikes with the hammer later, the sword stopped glowing, and Ferghus returned his hammer back to his plane of existence. Sheathing the sword once more, Ferghus handed the blade over to Viscardi. "This blade will not break by any power other than a god's," Ferghus explained. "And should any weapon or shield other than one created by a god clash with this, it shall fail and break."

Viscardi reverently took the blade from Ferghus. "Thank you, Lord of the Forge. I will wield it with pride and tell all it came from your hands."

"That's all I ask for," Ferghus said. "Now, back to more important matters." With that, Ferghus teleported away in a pillar of flame that extinguished itself after a brief second.

Meanwhile, Might and stuff

1 Might spent reinforcing a powerful sword.

That sword is now property of Viscardi. Fear it. And him.

Might: 7
Free Points: 3

[Kho]

Battle Brother Zerabil, Prophet of Vowzra, Blessed of Undasis

Level 23 Hero, 2 Khookies

Summary

• Zerabil sends Battle Brother Juras to train Confederate Tribal forces, along with a shipment of halberds and chain mail for the Stonespear and Bear Tribes.
• A new Diktat is appointed by Zerabil and the old, elected one removed - emergency is cited as the reason behind the old Diktat's removal.
• Saurathan attacks Orabson with his undead dragons and Hero.
• Flames do not harm Orabson or its people in Orabil's radius.
• Orabil opens its eyes and destroys the 30 undead dragons with its roots.
• Orabil asks Sauranath to leave or risk incurring the wrath of Vowzra.

1 Day After the Summit

'Yes, send another shipment of chain mail and halberds to the Stonespear Tribe and the Bear Tribe. The Confederate Tribes are also in need of proper training. Send Battle Brother Juras along with the shipment. We need our allies to be an organised fighting force for the upcoming assault.' the scribe scribbled away Zerabil's orders and looked up expectantly when done. Zerabil thought for a while, he did not think that the Strong Tribe or the Sanguine Communion required weapons on training. He waved the scribe away and the man rushed off to deliver the orders to the Diktat - though he had been acting less and less like a Diktat by the day. The man was clearly inept and had no idea of how to go about readying the town for war. Zerabil had been forced to take up more responsibilities and duties than he was duty-bound to take. Being the unstinting man he was, he could hardly point this out as the responsibilities piled up.

Later that day, he watched as Juras left Orabson atop his horse, leading the shipment of chain mail and halberds to the Confederate Tribes. One Battle Brother was enough to defend the caravan, but a group of Orabson's civilian militia went along. They had been trained by the fifty Brothers and Sisters of Vowzra's Victors who remained always in Orabson, and they were a rather good fighting force. If ever the Victors had to depart from Orabson, the civilian militia would no doubt be capable of handling all their duties.

'Godspeed Battle Brother!' Zerabil raised his right fist in the air before bringing it down to his chest, just over his heart. Juras gave him a determined look and saluted before donning his helmet and heading out. It would be a week's journey, perhaps less if they could take a shorter route. Zerabil turned away, he had other things to be dealing with, foremost was the matter of appointing a Diktat who could actually do his job - emergencies called for dictatorial measures, he was certain the people of Orabson would understand the temporary removal of their chosen Diktat.

1 Week After the Summit

Upon his horse, Zerabil gave the new Diktat a last nod before spurring his horse forward and heading out. He had to be present at the Mountain's Crown, for the Victors would soon be marching out. His horse had not taken more than a few steps forward when it froze in place. A scream had arisen, unmistakably coming from the general location of the conference room where the Summit had taken place. A low rumbling sound followed, and before anyone had completely gathered what was going on, the light of the sun had been obscured. Zerabil only had time to see skeletal wings before flames descended from the heavens.
'Get the delegates!' he heard. Delegates? Did they think those who had been at the Summit were still here? But Zerabil could think no more than that.

Orabson in its entirety was engulfed, flames of red and blue, some crackling dangerously and some twirling and consuming themselves again and again. Zerabil, Orabson and all those inhabiting the town were engulfed in the flames. Above them all, the great form of Orabil loomed and was still. Then, for the first time in existence, the eyes of the great tree opened and a piercing green radiance emanated from them.

As the flames of the dragons died down, the remains of Orabson revealed itself. Buildings stood firm, and people stood looking from one to another, blinking in surprise and confusion. Zerabil breathed deeply, his heart racing and his very essence shaking. What had happened? He could only guess, but he had a feeling that it must have been something to do with Orabil. The flames had encompassed everyone and everything, but they had touched nothing. It was as if the flames had, with a will of their own, twisted away and cooled themselves down completely so as to harm nobody. Not even the grass on the ground was affected by the flames.

Then the ground began to part and giant roots shot out, hunting down the dragons in the air with precision and deadly elegance. Skull after undead skull was crushed, and before long the skeletal bodies of thirty dragons were impaled upon the roots of Orabil. The only dragon still flying was a strange crystal one.
'You Have No Power Here, Great Reptile Sauranath,' the wooden lips of Orabil moved and its radiant gaze moved upon the conference room, 'Depart Now Before The Wrath Of The Timeless One Descends.' Zerabil looked upon the great tree in wonder, and he wondered what would happen now. Would a mighty duel of gods break out in Orabil's pure and peaceful skies?

@ActRaiserTheReturned

[ActRaiserTheReturned]

Mirtagn summoned what appeared to be hundreds of the skeletal dragons to soar towards enemy forces. He promptly disappeared, another twenty dragons arrived in the sky, altogether, the forces of the skeletal dragons were five hundred of the fierce winged creatures. . . "Try to not harm the civilians. . ." Mirtagn disappeared from the area with a flash of lightning and vanished, to take his own portion of the invading dragons elsewhere. Meanwhile, Sauranath's avatar also promptly vanished. . . Before his real form, as a majestic creature that he is came from the Stars above. . . "I am coming for you". . . He spoke towards the tree. His breath of fire, focused with the entire force the dragon deity possessed, was searing and hot enough to burn frighten anyone sensible.

[Kho]

Battle Brother Zerabil, Prophet of Vowzra, Blessed of Undasis

Level 23 Hero, 2 Khookies

'Victors! To me!' Zerabil shook himself from his reverie and gave out a thunderous command which reached everyone in Orabson with some Wi, 'my people! Gather yourselves up and come to me, we must leave this place at once!' upon his words, the town burst into life as people left everything they had, gathered up their families and made for Zerabil. He had spurred his horse and was now near the outskirts of the town, the fifty Brothers and Sisters of Vowzra's Victors encircling him. Slowly, people began to trickle into the defensive circle while Zerabil and his Victors kept a look out to ensure no more dragons were coming.

Things were quiet for half an hour as the people gathered themselves. As the last of Orabson's citizens gathered in the circle, the crystal dragon up in the air made a move. Before his very eyes, Zerabil witnessed the arrival of more skeletal dragons than he could count. The crystal dragon growled something to his minions before he disappeared.
'Let us be gone from here,' Zerabil said, and his voice reached all. With the combined effort of Zerabil and his Victors, and with a feat of the discipline and focus Vowzra's Victors prided themselves for, all the people were lifted from the ground and began floating away at speed. Some of the dragons gave chase, but a few Wi attacks deterred them and they turned back towards the now deserted Orabson.

The roots of Orabil were once more mowing down the flying monstrosities, their flames and attacks simply twisting away from the tree and all things within its radius.
'Foolish Beings, Get Thee Away For You Stain The Purity Of This Place,' the great tree's voice rumbled and the roots suddenly withdrew. There was no longer a reason to fight them, they posed no threat to the land or to Orabil and Zerabil had evacuated his people.

Then Sauranath burst out in his divine form and all things beneath him crumbled and were dust. Orabson disappeared and the very life was exterminated from the place. Even the skeletal dragons which had been summoned forth, dead as they were, crumbled into dust. Orabil, however, stood firm amongst the destruction, a bastion of life created by a mighty god and connected to the very Astral Home; the source of all life and the greatest concentration of life force. It was the living, beating heart of Galbar.

'I am coming for you,' Sauranath's terrible reptilian voice sounded and Orabil gazed upon the great dragon. It was a tree and he was a god, there was nothing it could do against him. And so, it closed its eyes and accepted Fate. The fire of the Great Reptile Sauranath enveloped the tree. The fire grew, leaping from branch to branch, bursting leaves and cracking the bark of the great tree. The fires were so potent that they pierced to the very centre of the immense tree and burnt the veins of life energy flowing to it from the Astral Home.

The Tree of Light's radiance was put out by the burning, crackling heat and light of the god's fire. It did not burn slowly, the flames were impatient and it was a simple matter of minutes before the enture tree was naught but a great charred pole, huge and black and ugly. A wooden claw tainting the skies of Arguilla.

Then the darkness returned.

[Frettzo]

Astarte and Vestec

Summary

- Vestec shared some of his essence with Astarte upon her own request, giving her a taste and affinity for chaos and imbalance. And teasing. Maybe.
- Vestec has given Astarte permission to mess around with his creations as she sees fit(Gods help them all), and has gifted her with one of his dragons.

Astarte looked at the sky. The fake, never changing sky, and huffed. She had been laying down for a long time relaxing, meditating and most of all thinking. 'Why must every other God be so stuck up? Damned Ice God, damned Life God, damned Time God. They're all boring.' She sighed and sat up, grabbing one of her bangs and putting it between her lips.

Then Astarte heard a footstep behind her and she turned to see a miniature tiger stalking the grasslands. Its eyes were fixed on a nearby sleeping animal. The animal, though, woke up with a start once the tiger made another sound, and darted away. The tiger soon disappeared between the grass leaves in chase of the animal.

Astarte stood, jumped up and floated in place. She then yelled out, "You're a bad predator if you can't keep silent, you idiot!"

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and a shiver went down her spine. "I know! The less stuck up one is Vestec. He kind of is a predator like you, Tiger. He isn't as much of a disappointment, though. Thanks for reminding me."

So Astarte clapped her hands and lied down mid air, belly up and one flexed knee over the other, foot twitching up and down in a rhythm, much like a teenage babysitter's once she calls her friends while working.

'Vestec? I need you over here right now.'

Vestec was drawn from watching of his daughter (whom he had decided was a worthy daughter of his) by Astarte's summoning. Of course, he went over immediately and without a second thought, appearing before her only a moment after she had called. He glanced about curiously to see if she had changed anything in the Ranges or anything that would require his help. Seeing nothing of note, other than the addition of tiny animals, he focused on Astarte and bowed.

"You called?"

Astarte raised her head to look at Vestec, "Yes, I did call! I wanted to ask you something, Vestec--" She gently set foot down on the ground, pulling Vestec down as well. She put her hands on his arms and smiled, not taking her eyes off his, "Do you have any extra dragon you could give me?"

Vestec merely tinged pink as Astarte pulled him down. "I have plenty of dragons. But I don't think they're quite..your taste. A bit more suited to mass destruction rather and violence, as I made them that way, than you might like. Why ask me for one? You can always go get one yourself fairly easily. We are, after all, Gods." He tilted his head at Astarte, waiting for an answer.

"I could get them myself, sure, but where would the fun be in that?" Astarte shrugged.

"I set my eyes on a few of Vowzra's humans for a while, tried to see if they were worth my time. Turns out they weren't. They were too... Clean, too balanced. And as you know, my entertaining, pink little Vestec, too balanced is not fun. So instead of watching those humans, I watched the ones you took for yourself. It's enough to say that they are far more entertaining."

She fell silent for a moment, then perked up and moved to his side, leading his arm to wrap around her shoulders. "If nothing else, I want one of your dragons so that I can play around with your armies and soldiers and chosen ones and peasants... You know what I mean." She chuckled.

Vestec chuckled as Astarted spoke. "Why do you think I even created my humans? To have some fun with them. Vowzra, Arguis, and Escre can keep their perfect little organized nations and secret races. I'll just add a little chaos for them." The God of Chaos quicky turned fully pink as Astarte put his arm around her shoulders. "Take your pick of them, and feel free to have fun messing with them. Can't have things going too smoothly for them, can we?"

"You bet," Astarte grinned and playfully poked his cheek to get him to look at her, "I also have another request, but for that one you need to have your human face up." Vestec immediately shifted his smooth face into a human one with full features.

"Soo, remember what you did the other time?" She asked, somewhat hesitant, "With your essence and the lips?"

Vestec's clothes began pulsing pink as the Goddess of magic asked her question. "Yes." He said cautiously. "Why?" He knew what he hoped why she was asking, but voicing that didn't seem like a very good idea.

"Because uh..." Astarte looked around, then back at Vestec, "I want a way bigger measurement of chaos. I feel way better since last one, so why not more? It feels like I need more." She said in a quieter tone than usual.

Vestec raised an eyebrow at Astarte as she hesitated. When she finally asked he smiled. "Your wish is my command." He kissed her again, this time holding her close as more of his Chaos essence traveled into her, leaving no escape. She returned the embrace, and a few long moments later, she gently pushed him away, shuddering lightly.

She then wrapped her arms around his neck, smirking. "That was easier than I expected. I think you might like me quite a bit, Vestec." She said as she trailed a finger along his jawline.

Vestec shivered as she drew a finger along his jaw. With only minor difficulty he spoke. "You're right. I do 'like you 'quite a bit', to put it lightly. The question is, what are you going to do with knowledge?"

Astarte shrugged and smiled sheepishly, breaking the embrace. "I don't know. I might do something about it, I might not. Most importantly," She raised an eyebrow, "I see you've been with a human."

"Ah. You saw that." Vestec spoke, slightly embarassedly. "That...wasn't what you think. I was curious to see if a child could come from a human and a God, and Viscardi was offering a rival up to me. Needless to say, a child can come from such a union." A bit of pride slipped into his tone. "I don't know if the mother is still alive, but Roxana is certainly a child of mine."

"Gods and mortals should not be together." Astarte said, then waved her hand dismissively at Vestec. "You may go whenever you like, Vestec. Keep your head up for a dragon circus."

"I don't think I'll leave quite yet. I enjoy your company too much." Vestec replied bringing her close to him again.

She grunted and struggled against him, "I'm not one of your tiny mortals that you can manipulate into sleeping with you at a moment's notice, Vestec. You'll have to try harder than this." She rolled her eyes.

Vestec chuckled, but let her go. "I don't have any tiny mortals. And if I just wanted to sleep with you, don't you think I would have lied to you when you asked for a bit of my essence, and said it required you to sleep with me?"

"Who knows? Maybe you are lying to me right now-" Astarte scrunched up her face for a moment, then chuckled and started walking in circles around him, slowly. "Maybe you make me believe you have to kiss me to give me essence, maybe you could just give it to me through a handshake." As she walked by his back, she put a hand on his shoulder and another on his waist, and leant up to whisper, "I don't mind a few lies." then she pulled away and tucked a few stray bangs of her hair behind her ear.

"Now go, lest you want me to break one of your little Roxana's arms while she sleeps."

Vestec followed with his head, not exactly certain of where this was going. He was about to deny what she was saying, when she whispered in his ear. The God of Chaos shivered again, before chuckling at her dismissal. "Do you promise? And it seems that the last kissed worked well. Very well. " He gave another bow, before disappearing from the Ranges.

[Cyclone]

Ialu

Summary

-Ialu's tribe is raising their army in preparation for war with the Cimex. The Strong Tribe has their usual hunters, but the vassal tribes are raising cavalry, spearmen, and 'slingers' that use the Wi to hurl lead bullets or stones at enemies.
-Ialu told himself that he wasn't going to use the Blade of Chaos but he's using it anyways. The sword transformed into a spear, because it sensed that the spear was his weapon of choice.
-Ialu is running north to challenge Viscardi, as Vestec (pretending to be the Mighty One) ordered him to.

Ialu continued his journey back to his tribal lands at an inhuman pace, arriving back in less than half the time that it had taken to strike out as far as he had gone. He passed one of the vassal villages to see a satisfying sight: training fields absolutely bustling with activity. At his command the Strong Tribe had went to the outer villages and began raising armies, pressing hundreds of men and women alike into service. Willing or not, they were trained and drilled in the great grasslands. In time they would make able warriors, though in their current shape many would not be able to stand against the Cimex. Time was running short; the training might not be enough...

Or so Ialu had thought, before he saw the lethal effectiveness of the slingers. His tribe could only outfit so many with proper weaponry and armor; those were the true warriors, yet they were not numerous enough. So he had decided that he would have hordes of skirmishers to batter down the Cimex and weaken them for the spearmen and cavalry. The 'slingers' as he called these skirmishers were simply mobs of ordinary tribespeople. The Wi was within nigh every man and woman, and it was the only weapon that a skirmisher needed.

Ialu watched as a formation of fifty men and women pulled small stones out from pouches on their hips. A drillmaster shouted a hoarse command, and in the unison the horde lifted the small stones out of their hands. Swinging the stones in circular motions to build momentum, after a few moments they hurled the things forward. The tiny rocks were propelled through the air at incredible speeds, whistling through the air before landing hundreds of yards away with enough force to crack a skull. These were just stones, too; the village smiths were forging thousands of lead bullets. Granted, the slingers were not accurate at all, but if enough of them concentrated their fire on one point there would surely be casualties.

That spectacle done, Ialu sprinted on through the grasslands. He passed the spear levies practicing their formations, the cavalry performing mock charges, his own hunters honing their special form of Wi. His people were stronger than even he had thought. To his astonishment they seemed already prepared well enough for war, but he would not march off with his army yet. He had more people to kill before that day would come.

No sooner had he greeted the people within his village was he telling them farewell as he struck out for another journey. He went on foot, for no horse could cover as much ground in a day as the hero. He took no food or drink, his only supplies the armor on his back and the unholy weapon that he had claimed from the fallen Dyun Champion.

Ialu had told himself that he did not need the Blade of Chaos. He had made up his mind to not touch the accursed thing, for it had a way of corrupting his mind. Still, he would be a fool to reject this boon. The Mighty One's voice had told him that his foe, the chieftain of the tribe to the north, had proven himself. So it was that he had determined he would don the unholy weapon into battle, if only for this one duel. Forsaking his spear and cutter to remain in his Mighty Cottage, when Ialu touched the blade it was almost as if the strange weapon was alive. It sensed that the spear was Ialu's weapon of choice, and so it had twisted and morphed into a vicious warspear.

Once Ialu drove the spear through his enemy's heat and conquered that tribe, he would lay the spear down. But until then, he ran to the north, the thing never leaving his grasp. Hunting for his food was unnaturally easy; he needed to merely point the spear's tip at an animal and watch as the twisted Wi within the spear struck down his prey. Victory was certain, but he knew that it would be bittersweet. It would not be Mighty Ialu who won this fight, it would be the Spear.