Legion02

Crucible of Gods - A New Divine RP

Anak'thas

The realm of the next node was not ruled by impossible storms and cyclical, stone trees. Water reigned here. Vast seas were suspended up in the air and raging around like clouds of a storm. Below, the ground was swept clean of any features. An endless torrent had blunted any edge. Form itself was reduced to an overflowing state. The Lantern-God continued on his trek. Even now, so far from the first node he put his claim on, did he feel the worship of his followers. Like a wellspring of golden light inside of him. Without it he would have turned back already but with it he could push on. For his people.

Until a divine sense of premonition alerted him to…something. The swirling mass of water in the firmaments here blocked almost all light. Anak’thas could scarcely see shadows. But he did see something move. What was that? It shape seemed to roil like the crashing waves of the heavens-bound water. It uttered out a cry akin to the song of whales. The Lantern-god believed it to be a greeting. With his divine faculties he mimicked the sound. It answered something, but it sounded lower. Almost… disappointed.

Tentacles of ever swirling blackness shot forward and pierced Anak’thas’ physical manifestation. The god screamed out in pain. His core was narrowly missed. Too narrowly. The tentacles retracted again. The Lantern-God dropped low to the proverbial knee. The creature came closer. The mote of Anak’thas’ was illuminating it slightly. The creature was nothing but a formless mass of inky darkness. It let out a low wail again as it approached from the fathomless skies.

The god of order had acted too rashly. He did not consider the possibility that the anarchic chaos would manifest guardians of its own. Because of that he was now bleeding divine ichor. Two tentacles formed from the amorphous blob and slapped the god away. He was sent flying, then barreling through a floating pocket of water before he came out the other way again, drenched and beaten. His physical form would not survive such an onslaught for long. Slowly he rose up again. Gold began to play across his fingers. “You will not end me.” He vowed, and the vow strengthened the golden force playing across his fingers. “I am Anak’thas. Ruler of the Verdant Realm. God of Order. And now Tamer of Chaos as well.”

The blob just slapped him away again before he could even finish conjuring the power he wished to wield. The Lantern-God was sent flying until he crashed into a featureless, stone pillar. The cracks he caused were quickly washed by the endless rain, carrying away the sharp edges until the god’s crash site looked like nothing more but a dent.

Anak’thas himself realized that calling upon his power of divinity and faith took too long. Slowly he got himself up as the amorphous blob came closer again. It manifested a sort of opening on its body. No doubt ready to swallow him whole.

Gold began to shine across the forearms of the god of order. The light itself materialized into golden, lattice-like filigree. The chaos beast came closer still. Its maw grew larger, stealing away the light from Anak’thas’ mote. Until the god of order reached out with a single hand. The golden crystal embedded in the bracer lit up like a sun. A straight line of goldlight made manifest pierced the creature. It shrieked and trashed as it lashed out with its tentacles again. Some of them hit, sending Anak’thas flying again. But others were sliced from its body by a trellis of goldlight.

Again the god of order picked himself up. His physical shape was badly battered and bruised but none the less he rose up. Divine ichor did drip from his physical body. One more strike and his lantern would drop, unprotected. He wouldn’t let it come to that. Again he summoned the golden force across his fingers. This time it was brighter, stronger, and shaped in an orderly fashion. “I will destroy you.” The beast shrieked at the challenge and rushed forward, ready to deal the killing blow.

It collided with the conjured honeycombed wall of goldlight. It flew straight into his trap. Light from all sides shaped itself into similar walls and began to retract. “This land of sea will be mine!” Anak’thas declared as he manipulated the goldlight. “It will be prosperous and great! And it – like all other realms I will claim – will serve as a testament of my glory. And. My. Power!” He squeezed the goldlight together. The creature released a death shriek before it was reduced to the basest particles of its existence. An ashy dust slipped through the holes of the already fading goldlight walls, to be carried away with the endless rain.

---

The god of order found the node not much later. He was still injured but the sight of the only stone with any discerning features pushed him to reach it. He put his hand on the node and the seas of the sky came down.

Even in his exhausted state, Anak’thas’ will was absolute. When the water was flushed down into the ocean mountains began to raise again in the north. To join their brothers from the west. Fertile rivers flowed down across the land. Seeding fields and forests with green and verdant life. The coast was dotted with soft, warm, sandy beaches alternated by steeper cliffs. Where the first node he claimed would serve as a welcome for anyone who came from the south, this node would serve to provide his realms with food and sustenance. With a singular motion he again raised a pedestal throne and took his place. His mind was already drifting towards the next node in the east. The power of creation was addictive. But really, who else was best suited to create a world as prosperous and good as he?

And yet, it was not the only thing on his mind. The bracers he carried drew equal part from the divine essence he imbued them with and the prayers of his distant faithful. It was clear that there was more power in being a god than simple divinity alone.

summary

Anak’thas goes over to the next node. This realm of chaos is ruled by a primordial, floating sea overhead that reduced the terrain to a featureless place without any sharp forms. The god hears a whale song and believes it’s a greeting. He returns it. It was not a greeting. He gets attacked and even wounded. He then tries to call upon his divine power to fight this creature but its much faster than him and attacks again.

Realizing he needs a way to call upon his power faster, the god shapes the Lattices of Anak’thas, an artifact. With it he can use the divinity stored with and the faith of his followers to use goldlight to attack or conjure complex manifestations with. He squeezes the attacking creature of chaos until it is nothing but the basest of material and then proceeds to claim Node 14.

Might

Start: 4 might
- 4MP: Lattices of Anak’thas - These golden bracers adorned with gentle, flowing filigree are embedded with a fragment of divinity from Anak’thas – shaped into a glowing, golden crystal. With it, he can channel faith and the fragmented divinity into manifestations of goldlight. These manifestations can be simple like a beam of searing light or more complex structures like honeycombed walls.
End: 0 might

Crucible of Gods - A New Divine RP

Anak'thas

Anak’thas moved through the storm-scarred realm alone. The screeching wind was assailing him from all sides. The ground beneath him had ceased obeying whatever laws of nature governed here. Mountains folded into each other, as stone trees curved back into roots. For the two days Anak’thas kept himself going with the promise of his own realm. Whenever he saw the stone trees he did not see the blight it was but the lush, green forests it could be. Whenever he walked over the cracked, rocky ground he saw tranquil hills covered with fields. So he kept going, until finally, he reached the node. It was a simple thing, akin to the first node where they were all born.

The lantern creature reached out and put his hand on the stone. In an instant the howling wind ceased. Rock and stone began to crack and crumble around him as reality took back control of the world. Through the node and with his will he wrangled the impossible mountains into submission. All bowed for Anak’thas. When he was finally done sundering the blight of the realm, he began replacing it. He forged gentle mountains up in the north, from which life-giving rivers flowed down into the verdant plains below. The stone trees had crumbled and formed the seeds for the living forests that dotted the whole area. A singular vale ran towards the node he came from, which would guide the mortals here.

Finally Anak’thas took off his hand and realized that was not a god, not truly, until now. Ever since his birth he had thought about shaping the world by his desire. To do so, in reality, was a completely different feeling though. He felt powerful like he had never felt before, not even when he witnessed Benea summon the Hydra. No, this was something else. This feeling, it demanded contemplation. With a single motion from his hand Anak’thas raised a pedestal-like throne and rested his lantern atop of it.

Days passed by without recognition to the second-born god of order. It felt like he was in a slumber as he examined the memories of the power that had coursed through him. A slumber that he was raised from the second the first of the mortals appeared before him. Slowly they made their way up the hill Anak’thas had made around the node. None of them spoke. They just knelt. But the Lantern-God felt something brewing in him as they whispered their prayers to him. Their faith felt like a sprouting seed within him. A seed – he knew – that would grow into the creating power of akin to that of the nodes.

“My subjects!” He bellowed as he raised up from his throne. “You’ve come to me. Know that I am honored by your faith. I can feel it within me. As promised, I give you a verdant land where prosperity is everywhere to be found. All I ask is your faith.” He stepped towards the first few of his new followers.

“Rise.” He then said. The human with a walking stick, no doubt the first of many boons provided by the Lantern-God, rose up slowly and carefully. “For your benediction I give my blessing.” With two fingers he touched the man’s head and filled it with the skill and knowledge of how to work the land. It was foundational knowledge at best, but knowledge that would get them started either way. The blessing spread, from the man to those he was growing to love along the way. Soon it found its way throughout his faithful followers.

Through the direction of Anak’thas his followers began to stack loose rocks and dig up clay to make their houses around his throne. They were ugly things, with little refinement or beauty to them. The Lantern-God still smiled. These buildings would be the first houses of his worship. The people of his land did not rest there, however. They took seeds from berries and plants that they found in the beautiful realm and began to plant them in tilted fields around the node-hill. The first fields were being sown already.

---

Anak’thas wanted more though. There was something underneath the power of the nodes. Something more, waiting to well up like a flooding river. But that power was blocked by stones of oblivion. In the end the conclusion was a simple one: he would have to claim more land. He summoned a man, young of body, and gave him a simple command. Make way for Benea’s chosen realm and relay his message: Anak’thas shall claim further eastwards. For the good of his followers.

With that task done Anak’thas set forth for the second node that would be his.

summary

Anak’thas goes through a windblown hellscape to claim node 13. When he does he feels such a rush of power that he decides to sit down for a few days. Finally mortal followers come and begin worshipping him. He can feel this faith in him as a seed of power. In return for their faith he gives them the blessing of knowledge. Soon Anak’thas’ followers are tilting fields and building houses.

However the god grows a bit more greedy and wants another node. He sends a messenger out towards Benea to tell her that he will go and claim node 14

Might

Start: 5 MP
Tier 1 Civilization – 0 Might & 1 Node
Tier 2 Civilization – 1 Might & 1 Node
End : 4 MP

𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

Isabel Markov | Child of War

_{I s a b e l. 
I s a b e l.}

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	Emeraude Toubia | #a187be ████████████████████████ 𝖂 𝖍 𝖔 𝕬 𝖗 𝖊 𝖄 𝖔 𝖚 𝖂 𝖍 𝖔 𝕬 𝖗 𝖊 𝖄 𝖔 𝖚 ⌜ 𝐍 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄 ⌟ Isabel Markov ⌜ 𝐋 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ Daughter of Ares ⬩

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ⬩ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{Nada nos puede parar}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Tenacious & Clever Confident & Independent Observant & Passionate ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Manipulative & Deceitful Impatient & Ruthless Stubborn & Prideful ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ 27 ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Bi-sexual || Female || She/her ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Junior Criminal Defense Lawyer

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ⬩ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{Your love could start a war}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ⬩ Isabel’s early life is a hazy mess at best. She remembers yelling, screaming, and hiding in a box. Or that’s how much her psychotherapist managed to get out of her before she quit. After that her earliest memory is left with her nanny at the age of 8, waving a plane goodbye on which her father doubtlessly was on. He always came back though. No matter where he want, he always came back to her. Her years as a child were spent with an odd sense of freedom. Her father was gone often, though he made every effort to call and video-chat with her whenever he could. Sometimes she screwed up, like those few times she was becoming a bully, but he never got mad at her. He only ever asked her why and often time she came to the conclusion herself that she was messing up. But whenever she achieved something, be it standing up to a bully herself or scoring high grades, he beamed with pride. As she grew older though, Isabel began to realize what her father did for work. At the age of 17, it began to really affect her. She wrestled with what she believed her father was doing. For the first time in her entire life, when he came she wasn’t at the airport waiting for him. For nearly the entire period he was home – which was generally a month – she tried to avoid him. Until he finally confronted her himself. They had a heart-to-heart that lasted until the morning. She yelled, she cried, she yelled more, and then as the sun came up she finally hugged him. After that Isabel's outlook on life changed. She graduated at the top of her class and went on a stellar academic career that ended with her graduating from law school and passing the bar exam. At the company that hired her, she shot up the ladder through a cutthroat game of office politics and a diligent work ethic. While she did continue her hard work, she did begin to delve into the mysterious life her father had. He was gone often, to places she could guess but he could never confirm. He talked about his family more and more. She started snooping around and found out that her father’s name was an ancient alias fabricated years ago. That evening her father knocked on her door. He explained that things with his family are difficult at the best of times. In time he would introduce her to his relatives. Until that time he wanted her to learn a bit about them. To do so he gave her a book on Greek myths. Isabel took it as a metaphor for how screwed up his family ties must be. It only made her want to meet his – and her – family. So the next year, when they had their annual reunion, she figured out it would be held in Seattle. She took a sabbatical from work and jumped on the first plane that went to the city. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ⬩ Secretly Isabel just wants a family. She wants uncles and nieces and people that she could always depend on. Though up until only a year ago that was at most a fantasy. Now it could be a reality. Beyond that she wants a family she made herself. Though publicly she’ll claim that she wants to become a partner at the law firm she works at and work on a case that will immortalize her. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ⬩ Isabel has never had a big family, so she fears losing the only family she has.

𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

Ares, God of War

g o d o f w a r
_{A r e s. 
A r e s.}

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	Daniel Gillies | #ed1c24 ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Harbinger of War ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ War ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Greek ⚔

𝐃 𝐈 𝐕 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 ⚔ 𝐏 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒
_{^{Burn it all down}}

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 H E A T O F B A T T L E
H E A T O F B A T T L E

^{Ares’ physical power increases the more intense a situation he finds himself in. The intensity can come from himself but also from people close around him. War provides an easy example of when the intensity of a situation reaches a peak. In this state, Ares is an indomitable mortal. His strength borders on the superhuman as he shrugs off pain that would incapacitate most others. The drawback of this is that his power only kicks in when a situation is already intense. A the start of any battle he is his own, normal self still.}

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ⚔ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{Fighting and running from, turning from who we really are}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Protective & Resilient Confident & Courageous Relentless & Principled ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Violent & Hedonistic Wrathful & Cruel Stubborn & Singleminded ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Alexander Markov ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ 42 ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Heterosexual & Male ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ CEO and Founder of Epilektoi Security Services Private Investor of the Burgdorf Museum of War

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ⚔ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{Pay no mind to the battles you've won. It'll take a lot more than rage and muscle}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ⚔ The Greeks enjoyed two gods of war. Ares personified the aspects of the warrior: courage, honor, glory, and strength but also wrath, terror, strife, and pain. He was worshipped most in the city-state of Sparta, known for its heroic defense at Thermopylae. In Asia Minor, many city-states also worshipped him as the protector. In myth he can often be found fighting for the side that will eventually face defeat. The most prominent example is when he fought at the side of the Trojans. However, it does show that Ares - god of war and glory - strives not necessarily towards victory. Unlike his sister, Athena. He fights for his own reasons. Sometimes he fights to bring strife and pain. At Troy though, he fought for his love: Aphrodite. And he fought so hard that the very gods on the side of Achaeans had to take him out of the battle. ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ⚔ Ares was a warrior. His purpose – from birth – was to fight anything in his way. The Fall was one of the few things he couldn’t fight though. No matter how much he trashed and tried to cling to his own divinity, he felt it fleeting between his fingers. Forever lost. When he opened his eyes again he found himself on earth, amongst the mortals. He had walked her before. His temper hadn’t been quenched. So he picked himself up and started looking for that which he craved most: war. And so he marched. Again and again and again. He abandoned his family. He saw no need for them and he reckoned, now that they had fallen, they saw no need for him either. Of course, he broke away from the burning embrace of battle every year to feed on divine Ambrosia, but he rarely lingered to feast. Often times he only showed up in the dead of night to steal a sip and vanish again. No, his true purpose on this world was to wage battle and for centuries that is exactly what he did. To his delight, he saw that the humans had as much an appetite for ending the lives of others as he had in ancient times. The bloodlust of mortalkind was not so easily sated. Century after century sharper blades and greater engines of war were introduced to the battlefield. There was always a war going on somewhere in the world. Whenever one place finally made peace, Ares would pack up that very night and find his next battlefield. One could say he is a traveler. He most certainly has fought amongst the armies of the world. But he never wandered the world to see it. But after fifteen centuries of bathing in blood, even the god of war grew tired of it. The blazing fire that ushered him ever further began to falter and for the first time in his life Ares decided to stay somewhere. Be it fate or luck, he found himself that way after the battle of Tenochtitlan. Where he met the most sinful of goddesses. Through her, Ares realized that war should be celebrated in its aftermath. For the next handful of centuries, Ares waged war and then drank deeply from the cups of victory afterward. He had a callous disregard for the dead and dying. War and celebration was the only thing that counted, and the latter was made ever more appetizing through a goddess that fed his sins. Until that fateful week in Madrid. For a time it was as if Ares had vanished from the surface of the earth. Some could whisper they saw him still at the World Tree every year, stealing a sip of Ambrosia. But he never spoke to a fellow divine. That is, until he boarded a plane heading for Seattle from Ben Gurion Airport with a smile on his face. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ⚔ For the longest time Ares would’ve wanted nothing more than just to wage endless war. To do what he was quite literally born to do. However, he now feels an almost desperate need to change. So now he does not search for war but for his family. He wishes to reconnect with his family and become the man he hopes his loved ones wish he would become. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ⚔ Death has taken a front seat when it comes to his life. In the millennia past it didn’t really bother him. But now he has people that he could leave behind. And the god of war has been to many funerals in his life.

𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

Hel, Goddess of the Graceless Dead

d u t i f u l q u e e n
_{H E L. 
H E L.}

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	Katheryn Winnick | #7ea7d8 ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Queen of Niflheim ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ Honorless Dead ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Norse ❅

𝐃 𝐈 𝐕 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 ❅ 𝐏 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒
_{^{Not for ourselves alone are we born}}

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 D E A D - T O U C H E D
D E A D - T O U C H E D

<sup>The Restless Dead often come to her on earth as well. Hel has the ability to talk to the ghosts of the recently departed. Oftentimes this is to hear some last words, offer comfort about the next world, or enact a final wish.

However, not all Restless Dead are benign in spirit. Some return as Draugr, undead who desire to harm the living. Hel first saw it as her duty to dispatch them with great prejudice. Recently, however, she found a way to bind a Draugr to a totem and thus to her will.</sup>

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ❅ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{Ваш час сыдзе навечна}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Charitable & Dutiful Fierce & Loyal Gentle & Observant⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Gloomy & Resentful Uncompromising & Vengeful Cold & Cruel ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Astrid Krogh ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ 37 ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Heterosexual & Female ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Founder of Nilfgard Burial Services Grief councillor

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ❅ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{Hel bound in her lonely crown}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ❅ Born from Loki - the trickster god – and the giantess Angrboda, the birth of her and her siblings came with a dreadful prophecy. Oden, ruler of the Aesir, could not keep her in Asgard. So he assigned the freezing realm of Helheim to her. Where she would reign. Until Ragnarok begins. Then her realm will quake, the gates of Helheim will be flung open and Hel’s People will march towards Asgard, led by Loki. As goddess of the dead, she tends to those who died “dishonorably”. The ill, the old, those who did not die in battle. These people are cared for with a loving, numbing embrace. To murderers and perjurers, Hel unleashed her frozen glare. Making them suffer for an eternity. Her dominion will not be denied and even the gods are not free from death’s grasp. As is shown in the tale of Baldur Odinson. Who died and went to Helheim. Hermod, another one of Odin’s, descended into the realm and begged the Queen of the Dead for his brother’s return. She declared that only if every creature in every realm begged for Baldur’s return, she would release him. When a single giant refused to plead for the fallen Aesir, Hel made her will known and Baldur remained in Helheim. ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ❅ Hel forever claims that she did not fall like others. She did not feel the strange grip wrenching her from divinity. Not she was taken and wrenched away from her throne in Niflheim, not down but up. She claimed she screamed and begged and promised those she cared for that she would be back. And then she opened her eyes and found her in Midgard. A realm she had the pleasure to visit eons ago when she could still dine in the halls of Odin. When she found a small campfire she felt, for the first time in so very long, actual warmth. It scared her to her core. She fled and hid away in a cave far in the north, in a place that reminded her of the realm she ruled. And she stayed there. Once a year she would venture forth from her home to drink from Yggdrasill’s sap. She would skulk in the night, making every attempt to evade her family. Not because she hated them. Quite the opposite, one night she found Hati passed out at the celebration. For a split second, she was going to wake him, hug him and not let go for the rest of the night. It took her years to crawl herself out of her cave, both physically and metaphorically. At first, she was content to live her life as a simple cemetery custodian. That wasn’t enough for the dead. Too many died without saying their final farewells. Too many died in the gutters of the world. She took it on herself to bury the unworthy of the world, one grave at a time. Soon she was helping the living as well. It was an ill-fitting replacement for Niflheim but it was something. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ❅ If asked, Hel will claim that she wants a grave for every person when they die and a peaceful heart for everyone that remembers them. Should a divine ask, she would claim she simply wishes to return to her throne in Niflheim, where she can once more tend to the graceless dead. This is not untrue but there are other desires, desires she doesn’t dare put into actual words. Her hate for Odin – not the Aesir as a whole but only Odin – burns evermore. It was he who inflicted the pain upon her family. Only when he is dead and Ragnarök is prevented could she fulfill her second desire: finally reunite with her family. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ❅ The death of her family. That deep fear haunts her in her dreams.

Crucible of Gods - A New Divine RP

Anak'thas

“I shall.” Anakt’thas said to Benea’s offer. In his mind, the central node would serve as a meeting place for the gods shaped in the form of a giant temple complex. But here around the node they would join again. For now, though, Benea’s creation would protect it until it could rightfully be claimed.

There were other gods joining them now. One absolute savage, with whom Anak’thas would feel no pleasure to work with. At least Monica was wise enough to relent to Benea. He was quickly growing tired of the bunch though. Half of them would be obstacles at the very least.

The mote-as-eye of his turned towards the recently awakened humans. “Hear me now mortals.” He shouted towards them. “The world beyond this valley is a wretched land indeed. But me and my kin-“ he motioned specifically at Benea, “will do everything in our power to tame those lands and make them prosperous. I promise you these verdant realms in exchange for naught but your faith.”

With his grand declaration done he again turned towards Benea. “While your company would no doubt be a delight, I am afraid that duty calls first.” He then leaned in closer to whisper: “Not all our siblings will offer the same life-giving lands, and these mortals will no doubt become the tools of our order. We must protect them.” With that said, he started walking – at the pace of a god at least – towards the north-eastern node.

Summary

Anak’thas envisions what Node 18 should look like, then grimaces at how his other siblings are turning out. He soon realizes that they should move but first makes a declaration to the humans who woke up. He offers them a verdant realm up north in exchange for their faith. After that he explains to Benea that duty calls and they must move because he suspects not all of his siblings will give blessed realms to the mortals. And the mortals must survive because they will be their tools. After that he leaves for the next node.

Might

No might used

𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

Isabel Markov | Child of War

_{I s a b e l. 
I s a b e l.}

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	Emeraude Toubia | #a187be ████████████████████████ 𝖂 𝖍 𝖔 𝕬 𝖗 𝖊 𝖄 𝖔 𝖚 𝖂 𝖍 𝖔 𝕬 𝖗 𝖊 𝖄 𝖔 𝖚 ⌜ 𝐍 𝐀 𝐌 𝐄 ⌟ Isabel Markov ⌜ 𝐋 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ Daughter of Ares ⬩

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ⬩ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{Nada nos puede parar}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Tenacious & Clever Confident & Independent Observant & Passionate ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Manipulative & Deceitful Impatient & Ruthless Stubborn & Prideful ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ 27 ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Bi-sexual || Female || She/her ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Junior Criminal Defense Lawyer

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ⬩ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{Your love could start a war}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ⬩ Isabel’s early life is a hazy mess at best. She remembers yelling, screaming, and hiding in a box. Or that’s how much her psychotherapist managed to get out of her before she quit. After that her earliest memory is left with her nanny at the age of 8, waving a plane goodbye on which her father doubtlessly was on. He always came back though. No matter where he want, he always came back to her. Her years as a child were spent with an odd sense of freedom. Her father was gone often, though he made every effort to call and video-chat with her whenever he could. Sometimes she screwed up, like those few times she was becoming a bully, but he never got mad at her. He only ever asked her why and often time she came to the conclusion herself that she was messing up. But whenever she achieved something, be it standing up to a bully herself or scoring high grades, he beamed with pride. As she grew older though, Isabel began to realize what her father did for work. At the age of 17, it began to really affect her. She wrestled with what she believed her father was doing. For the first time in her entire life, when he came she wasn’t at the airport waiting for him. For nearly the entire period he was home – which was generally a month – she tried to avoid him. Until he finally confronted her himself. They had a heart-to-heart that lasted until the morning. She yelled, she cried, she yelled more, and then as the sun came up she finally hugged him. After that Isabel's outlook on life changed. She graduated at the top of her class and went on a stellar academic career that ended with her graduating from law school and passing the bar exam. At the company that hired her, she shot up the ladder through a cutthroat game of office politics and a diligent work ethic. While she did continue her hard work, she did begin to delve into the mysterious life her father had. He was gone often, to places she could guess but he could never confirm. He talked about his family more and more. She started snooping around and found out that her father’s name was an ancient alias fabricated years ago. That evening her father knocked on her door. He explained that things with his family are difficult at the best of times. In time he would introduce her to his relatives. Until that time he wanted her to learn a bit about them. To do so he gave her a book on Greek myths. Isabel took it as a metaphor for how screwed up his family ties must be. It only made her want to meet his – and her – family. So the next year, when they had their annual reunion, she figured out it would be held in Seattle. She took a sabbatical from work and jumped on the first plane that went to the city. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ⬩ Secretly Isabel just wants a family. She wants uncles and nieces and people that she could always depend on. Though up until only a year ago that was at most a fantasy. Now it could be a reality. Beyond that she wants a family she made herself. Though publicly she’ll claim that she wants to become a partner at the law firm she works at and work on a case that will immortalize her. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ⬩ Isabel has never had a big family, so she fears losing the only family she has.

Crucible of Gods - A New Divine RP

Anak'thas

Anak’thas didn’t let his hand linger on Peninal’s head for long. The knowledge coursed through him for but a second before his divine mind placed it all neatly down as a framework that was already growing in his mind. His eye of light strayed towards the globe sitting on a nearby stone pedestal. With the knowledge of his fallen progenitor, Anak’thas knew what was shown to him. With his staff, he began to move across the little points that marked the nodes. Each place was already given a purpose. Farms, libraries, schools, fortresses, watchtowers. Like a living organism his grand design was already spreading across the world in his mind.

“The world is but a barren wasteland.” He said out loud as his singular, light eye stayed focused on the representation of the world. “We will need time to rebuild it before the coming doom.” Then he turned to face his siblings, specifically looking at the horned entity who insulted perhaps the only one of his siblings who spoke an ounce of sense today. “So we do not have the luxury to wait. We should act, and fast.” Then the gaze of his singular mote of light moved towards Monica. “Forgive me sister but compassion alone will not be enough to stave off certain doom. This world needs order and stability.”

His form of wispy robes moved beside the sister who spoke second. “I – Anak’thas – support you sister. Our knowledge and wisdom set us apart from our siblings. Together we will save this world. I am sure of this.”

Summary

Anak'thas touches Peninal's forehead to gain the knowledge, then moves towards the globe sitting on the pedestal. In his mind, he already knows how the whole world will look. He then moves to speak against Vatarr and Monica. After which he sides with Benea, calling her wise and knowledgeable.

Might

No Might Expended yet

𝘿𝙀𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ⌜ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ⌟

Hel, Goddess of the Graceless Dead

d u t i f u l q u e e n
_{H E L. 
H E L.}

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	Katheryn Winnick | #7ea7d8 ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Queen of Niflheim ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ Honorless Dead ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Norse ❅

𝐃 𝐈 𝐕 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 ❅ 𝐏 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒
_{^{Not for ourselves alone are we born}}

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 D E A D - T O U C H E D
D E A D - T O U C H E D

<sup>The Restless Dead often come to her on earth as well. Hel has the ability to talk to the ghosts of the recently departed. Oftentimes this is to hear some last words, offer comfort about the next world, or enact a final wish.

However, not all Restless Dead are benign in spirit. Some return as Draugr, undead who desire to harm the living. Hel first saw it as her duty to dispatch them with great prejudice. Recently, however, she found a way to bind a Draugr to a totem and thus to her will.</sup>

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ❅ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{Ваш час сыдзе навечна}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Charitable & Dutiful Fierce & Loyal Gentle & Observant⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Gloomy & Resentful Uncompromising & Vengeful Cold & Cruel ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Astrid Krogh ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ 37 ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Heterosexual & Female ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Founder of Nilfgard Burial Services Grief councillor

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ❅ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{Hel bound in her lonely crown}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ❅ Born from Loki - the trickster god – and the giantess Angrboda, the birth of her and her siblings came with a dreadful prophecy. Oden, ruler of the Aesir, could not keep her in Asgard. So he assigned the freezing realm of Helheim to her. Where she would reign. Until Ragnarok begins. Then her realm will quake, the gates of Helheim will be flung open and Hel’s People will march towards Asgard, led by Loki. As goddess of the dead, she tends to those who died “dishonorably”. The ill, the old, those who did not die in battle. These people are cared for with a loving, numbing embrace. To murderers and perjurers, Hel unleashed her frozen glare. Making them suffer for an eternity. Her dominion will not be denied and even the gods are not free from death’s grasp. As is shown in the tale of Baldur Odinson. Who died and went to Helheim. Hermod, another one of Odin’s, descended into the realm and begged the Queen of the Dead for his brother’s return. She declared that only if every creature in every realm begged for Baldur’s return, she would release him. When a single giant refused to plead for the fallen Aesir, Hel made her will known and Baldur remained in Helheim. ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ❅ Hel forever claims that she did not fall like others. She did not feel the strange grip wrenching her from divinity. Not she was taken and wrenched away from her throne in Niflheim, not down but up. She claimed she screamed and begged and promised those she cared for that she would be back. And then she opened her eyes and found her in Midgard. A realm she had the pleasure to visit eons ago when she could still dine in the halls of Odin. When she found a small campfire she felt, for the first time in so very long, actual warmth. It scared her to her core. She fled and hid away in a cave far in the north, in a place that reminded her of the realm she ruled. And she stayed there. Once a year she would venture forth from her home to drink from Yggdrasill’s sap. She would skulk in the night, making every attempt to evade her family. Not because she hated them. Quite the opposite, one night she found Hati passed out at the celebration. For a split second, she was going to wake him, hug him and not let go for the rest of the night. It took her years to crawl herself out of her cave, both physically and metaphorically. At first, she was content to live her life as a simple cemetery custodian. That wasn’t enough for the dead. Too many died without saying their final farewells. Too many died in the gutters of the world. She took it on herself to bury the unworthy of the world, one grave at a time. Soon she was helping the living as well. It was an ill-fitting replacement for Niflheim but it was something. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ❅ If asked, Hel will claim that she wants a grave for every person when they die and a peaceful heart for everyone that remembers them. Should a divine ask, she would claim she simply wishes to return to her throne in Niflheim, where she can once more tend to the graceless dead. This is not untrue but there are other desires, desires she doesn’t dare put into actual words. Her hate for Odin – not the Aesir as a whole but only Odin – burns evermore. It was he who inflicted the pain upon her family. Only when he is dead and Ragnarök is prevented could she fulfill her second desire: finally reunite with her family. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ❅ The death of her family. That deep fear haunts her in her dreams.

Ares, God of War

g o d o f w a r
_{A r e s. 
A r e s.}

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	Daniel Gillies | #ed1c24 ████████████████████████ 𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊   𝕿 𝖍 𝖊 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 ⌜ 𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐓 ⌟ Harbinger of War ⌜ 𝐃 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐈 𝐍 ⌟ War ⌜ 𝐏 𝐀 𝐍 𝐓 𝐇 𝐄 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ Greek ⚔

𝐃 𝐈 𝐕 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄 ⚔ 𝐏 𝐎 𝐖 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒
_{^{Burn it all down}}

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 H E A T O F B A T T L E
H E A T O F B A T T L E

^{Ares’ physical power increases the more intense a situation he finds himself in. The intensity can come from himself but also from people close around him. War provides an easy example of when the intensity of a situation reaches a peak. In this state, Ares is an indomitable mortal. His strength borders on the superhuman as he shrugs off pain that would incapacitate most others. The drawback of this is that his power only kicks in when a situation is already intense. A the start of any battle he is his own, normal self still.}

𝐈 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐑 ⚔ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐋 𝐅
_{^{Fighting and running from, turning from who we really are}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐫 𝐭 𝐮 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Protective & Resilient Confident & Courageous Relentless & Principled ⌟	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅	▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ███████████████ 𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬   𝐕 𝐢 𝐜 𝐞 𝐬 ⌜ Violent & Hedonistic Wrathful & Cruel Stubborn & Singleminded ⌟

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	████████████████████████ т н є м σ я т α ℓ   т н є м σ я т α ℓ ⌜ 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐀 𝐒 ⌟ Alexander Markov ⌜ 𝐑 𝐄 𝐂 𝐎 𝐑 𝐃 𝐄 𝐃 𝐀 𝐆 𝐄 ⌟ 42 ⌜ 𝐒 𝐄 𝐗 𝐔 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 & 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍 𝐃 𝐄 𝐑 ⌟ Heterosexual & Male ⌜ 𝐎 𝐂 𝐂 𝐔 𝐏 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 ⌟ CEO and Founder of Epilektoi Security Services Private Investor of the Burgdorf Museum of War

𝐋 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄 ⚔ 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘
_{^{Pay no mind to the battles you've won. It'll take a lot more than rage and muscle}}

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▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲   𝐌 𝐲 𝐭 𝐡 𝐨 𝐥 𝐨 𝐠 𝐲 ⌜ 𝕯 𝖎 𝖛 𝖎 𝖓 𝖊 𝕷 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 ⌟ ⚔ The Greeks enjoyed two gods of war. Ares personified the aspects of the warrior: courage, honor, glory, and strength but also wrath, terror, strife, and pain. He was worshipped most in the city-state of Sparta, known for its heroic defense at Thermopylae. In Asia Minor, many city-states also worshipped him as the protector. In myth he can often be found fighting for the side that will eventually face defeat. The most prominent example is when he fought at the side of the Trojans. However, it does show that Ares - god of war and glory - strives not necessarily towards victory. Unlike his sister, Athena. He fights for his own reasons. Sometimes he fights to bring strife and pain. At Troy though, he fought for his love: Aphrodite. And he fought so hard that the very gods on the side of Achaeans had to take him out of the battle. ██████████████████████ 𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲   𝐁 𝐢 𝐨 𝐠 𝐫 𝐚 𝐩 𝐡 𝐲 ⌜ м σ я т α ℓ ℓ ι f є ⌟ ⚔ Ares was a warrior. His purpose – from birth – was to fight anything in his way. The Fall was one of the few things he couldn’t fight though. No matter how much he trashed and tried to cling to his own divinity, he felt it fleeting between his fingers. Forever lost. When he opened his eyes again he found himself on earth, amongst the mortals. He had walked her before. His temper hadn’t been quenched. So he picked himself up and started looking for that which he craved most: war. And so he marched. Again and again and again. He abandoned his family. He saw no need for them and he reckoned, now that they had fallen, they saw no need for him either. Of course, he broke away from the burning embrace of battle every year to feed on divine Ambrosia, but he rarely lingered to feast. Often times he only showed up in the dead of night to steal a sip and vanish again. No, his true purpose on this world was to wage battle and for centuries that is exactly what he did. To his delight, he saw that the humans had as much an appetite for ending the lives of others as he had in ancient times. The bloodlust of mortalkind was not so easily sated. Century after century sharper blades and greater engines of war were introduced to the battlefield. There was always a war going on somewhere in the world. Whenever one place finally made peace, Ares would pack up that very night and find his next battlefield. One could say he is a traveler. He most certainly has fought amongst the armies of the world. But he never wandered the world to see it. But after fifteen centuries of bathing in blood, even the god of war grew tired of it. The blazing fire that ushered him ever further began to falter and for the first time in his life Ares decided to stay somewhere. Be it fate or luck, he found himself that way after the battle of Tenochtitlan. Where he met the most sinful of goddesses. Through her, Ares realized that war should be celebrated in its aftermath. For the next handful of centuries, Ares waged war and then drank deeply from the cups of victory afterward. He had a callous disregard for the dead and dying. War and celebration was the only thing that counted, and the latter was made ever more appetizing through a goddess that fed his sins. Until that fateful week in Madrid. For a time it was as if Ares had vanished from the surface of the earth. Some could whisper they saw him still at the World Tree every year, stealing a sip of Ambrosia. But he never spoke to a fellow divine. That is, until he boarded a plane heading for Seattle from Ben Gurion Airport with a smile on his face. ██████████████████████ 𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬   𝐌 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐯 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 𝐬 ⌜ α м в ι т ι σ и ѕ ⌟ ⚔ For the longest time Ares would’ve wanted nothing more than just to wage endless war. To do what he was quite literally born to do. However, he now feels an almost desperate need to change. So now he does not search for war but for his family. He wishes to reconnect with his family and become the man he hopes his loved ones wish he would become. ⌜ f є α я ѕ ⌟ ⚔ Death has taken a front seat when it comes to his life. In the millennia past it didn’t really bother him. But now he has people that he could leave behind. And the god of war has been to many funerals in his life.

Crucible of Gods - A New Divine RP

Anak'thas

Name:
Anak'thas

Form

At the core of Anak’thas is a brightly lit lantern. It is held by a more humanoid creature. While this figure is still a part of him, wounding it would not kill him. This form - his Aspect of Guiding Light as he calls it – is faceless. Instead of a face, he has a hole with a mote of divine light shining from it. The wispy robes he wears hide the lower section of this form. He leaves no footmarks. Instead, the lowest-hanging robes seemingly float over the ground.

Personality
On the surface, one could say that Anak’thas is a power-hungry control freak. There is, however, nuance to his obsession. While he is obsessed with control, he remains open to the idea that – for now – there are forces outside his control. Instead of absolute subjugation of these forces, he will prefer to initially find a way to incorporate them into his Perfect Order. In essence, he will resort first to control through assimilation. Not subjugation (though of course, when assimilation is not an option subjugation will be). Furthermore, he craves power only to further his Perfect Order, which ultimately comes to the betterment of everyone (or so he chooses to believe).

Will
Will of Perfect Order. Anak’thas believes that only ultimate order can stave off doom and bring true prosperity. But to achieve this ultimate order every object in existence needs to understand and accept its place in this ultimate order. He thus values obedience and duty above all else. Through this obedience and dutifulness, he strives to deliver every measure of prosperity. He does not abhor creativity but believes it is a force that must be closely monitored. For a wrongful but hopeful idea can sunder the prosperous order he strives to create. His true opposite is anarchy and lawlessness.

Favorite color
Golden yellow