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Gods; A New Age

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Oran Tarlin on Tue Jan 10, 2012 7:58 pm

Cry "Havoc!"

The Perimeter, the Hills of Asphodel



For a moment there was a breeze, as though a goddess himself had awakened him, or opened a window to the divine, letting a gust of wind to lighten the air of the mortal realm. It was a sudden silence and a sense of dread. He wavered, and nearly fell.

But the gust took his cloak, and with it the weight on his mind. In a flourish of fine black cloth the fire in him blazed there upon his belt, for a moment like a second sun, but the light was quickly extinguished. The man had worn a delicate looking cloth, draped ornately around his neck, bound about his stomach with a gem as orange as the firelight, as red as blood, blossoming with new color at every different angle. The gemstone and its setting that had been so carefully hidden was to be worn to battle.

But the moment was lost under the singing of arrows, and the rushing of the Dendapim beneath strange starched leather canopies which sprung up like trees from the footsoldiers. In quieter times it would seem like a festival in the rain setting up parasols.

But the rain came down as sinew and iron, and the thunder was the screams and the quaking of the earth under hoof. Menale gave a cry and the first volley of bullets soared erratically about, cloaking the battle in its first cloud of smoke. The Dendapim rushed to the hillside, pouring from the countless bags at their feet a shimmering flood of caltrops, to break the Flamarite formation should they take the hill.

The Flamarites were unfazed by the illumination of Menale or the spiked balls rolling down the hillside, littering it with dangerous spikes. In a tremulous wall of heat the caltrops began to glow and warp, and with her power Alyss cooled the iron. When the Flamarites reached the bottom of their hill, the Dendapim let loose their first volley, laying the first cloud of black smoke on the battle field. With the thundering of horshoes against flattened caltrops the Flamarites burst up the hillside at the Dendapim front line moving swiftly at an angle to flank the Dendapim forces.

Menale spied their leader, Alyss, between shots from his muskets, which squires were handing him as fast as they could clean them. The second volley exploded through the Flamarites as they began to flank the Dendapim, and Menale saw Alyss, already swarmed by Flamarites protecting her, fall as her horse gave out.

"Aim for the legs of the beasts!" cried Menale, taking a plain boxy gun from a squire, and mounting it on his shoulder. Its blast startled his own horse. The smoke and heat was becoming unbearable, but the Flamarites moved swiftly into position against the coughing Dendapim. At the flanks, as men furiously cleaned their guns behind walls of armored musketeers formed in phalanx with their bayonets, the Flamarites taunted them, daring Dendapim to break formation and fight them. The cacophany of arrows against flesh and the stamping of horses drowned out much of the words.

Menale heaved on his horse, which feared the battle, and gave a shaken signal. With that signal the Dendapim beneath the canopies, protected by the rapidly growing wall of corpses, began to toss the pellets of explosives and shrapnel into the midst of the approaching wall of Lancers, who had dropped off the Flamarite horsemen and now moved to blight the Dendapim's soft underbelly.

There was another volley, unpredicted, shaking even Menale with its thunderous blast. The Dendapim were pulling back from the crest of the hill. The casualties seemed too severe to allow the dying men to roll haphazardly down the steep hill as they were. Those who managed to survive the fall fought blindly over the bodies. There was little sense in the front lines. Men jabbed their bayonets against the coming swordsmen, but it was the fire and the gunblasts which sent men flying. Those on the ground sank into the soft earth, and held a line while the horsemen backed away, throwing caltrops with slings to break the Flamarite mob, and give them some distance as they fled back towards Osialquienem, breaking their formation and fleeing for their lives.

Menale was struck with a gunblast to the back, shaking and coughing, but clinging to his horse, and it finally began to kick and heave, and darted back to Osialquienem. The slingers began to heave shrapnel filled explosives behind them, often littering their trails with Dendapim corpses. The flashes of gunpowder were smote under Flamarite horsemen trampling, the heat truly unbearable.

The smoke trailed lazily upward,
And the snowdrops bent their heads like red veiled mourners.

Light, Seeking Light

The Avatar's Palace



The room was strewn with papers, and the stillness was broken sporadically by a scratching of pens and the clicking of typeset. The Scribe at the table, carefully bent over an ancient looking book, was carefully deciphering the scribbling alongside the text. He had just finished translating a manifesto by the Propagandists. Even thousands of years ago they were talented wordsmiths. Admittedly some of their aphorisms didn't translate well. "A citizen alights the streetlamps" was trivial in modern parlance, but in the archaic language "Alight" had implications of patriotic fervor, and the phrasing implied unity with other Dendapim against some sort of oppression. Funny how, with so much meaning loss, it could be considered a "translation."

But this book was much larger, and riddled throughout with annotations in a variety of different hands and even regional accents. Even in its first page there were nearly fourteen points of view, and all of them conflicting. The actual text was handwritten, and neat, but the lines were heavy. The fact that it was so nicely preserved had the scribe particularly interested, so much so that he dedicated his time to it, directly against the order of the Avatar, who figured the book was simply a novel and not worth the effort.

It started out with a dramatic retelling of the battle of Kel'p-Hai, beginning with the death of Avatar Annipe as she threw herself into the fire. The oddest part, however, was that the names were off. Annipe was called Eleuma, which was like a mispelling of devil, and Nemea was called Yorinaphe, a title that was rarely applied to her. Though the story was quite dry, the comments were livid, many of them facing the same questions the scribe did. Why the change of names? What perspective is this from? Who was the author?

To Fashion an Image out of the Ashes

The Hills of Asphodel



Avatar Igavene could see the smoke along the hillside, and the horsemen retreating. The bastard had fought the Flamarites, with a force that was nothing short of pitiful. Now the men saw the investment a horse was, it got you home swiftly. The commoners who fought with sling and bayonet were scorched and skewered while the other men went free. Even from here the Avatar could see Menale, or the red light on his stomach. He saw the arrow canopies collapsing, vanishing into the swarms of men being quickly overcome by the Flamarites.

He got ahold of himself, and quickly undid the Starweave that formed his left glove. He ran it down the empty sheath he carried, and began to flail it wildly, the light catching it, but the wind turned, and the smoke blew back over the hillside, and obscured him and his meager peace offering.

But now he wished, more than anything, that Menale would die for this foolishness, at least then the smoke might have been incense burning in thanks. Deliverance from that pest.

Sweet Diana Elopes with the Sky

Our Lady's Bathhouse, North Cliffs of Osialquienem



A woman as thin and lithe as a nymph paced the room with a serene sense of grace against the riotous laughter and yelling which echoed through this corner of the bathhouse. The room around her seemed a cocoon of elegance for some unseen light, the metalwork and sumptuous cloth hanging down from the ceilings, opulent and sweet smelling.

She wore a golden ring, with a gem of peculiar, stark blue, that tore through the room, and begged the eye to marvel at it. She was so universally beloved amongst the Dendapim that she was called "Our Lady" and now she, in all her composure, paced slowly around the carpeted room, circling a set of notes on the table as though dancing.

Her spindly fingers occasionally perused the pages, but she did not cease to circle the table, nor did she stop to actually read them. The enormous doors to the room creaked open, and a young boy, a eunuch, as identified by his shaved head, approached with yet another note. The lady snatched this from him, and almost immediately dropped onto one of the cushioned couches that lined the walls, examining the note carefully.

It read, in hurried but neat print:

"The Avatar is outside the city, and the palace is being looted. The books are being taken. The past shall give light to the future.

A poet even in the midst of such intrigue. She liked the sophistication of it. The past shall give light to the future. She copied that phrase down on paper with an elegant ink-pen and moved hurriedly to the door, where another boy awaited her.

"Take this to my friend Valataja at the Propagandist's guild. Tell him it is to replace all existing condemnations."

And the boy ran off, and the Lady entered into a great courtyard, where a great many people laughed heartily and toasted her arrival.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Ersatz Creed on Tue Jan 10, 2012 8:51 pm

Murali And Mask


It was a question without answer, Who came first. Murali or Mask? For if Murali came first, to what did she bring order too? And if it was Mask, what would he corrupt?


Mask entered into Murali's realm with the most dubious smirk one could imagine and mocked her more by bowing in such a ridiculous manner.

Perhaps I should make him into a jester... She thought as she watched him continue to make a fool of himself.

To his surprised face, clearly at her humbling herself, Murali raised a brow. Perhaps he got the message...

"No sword, no assailers, not even an insult for my arrival," Mask stated as his eyes narrowed, "Either you are a phantom that my immortal eyes cannot see through, or you are planning something. Since when has the blood of anyone ever been your concern? Your people are safe under the protection of the Dendapim. Yet I see your people revolting against their reign."


No...He's far too stupid to be the court fool...

Murali stood there, staring Mask down, holding back from slapping that horrid mask off his face and permitted him to approach her being.


"You're people has returned to the numbers they once had, maybe not as much, but it is a start, yet you are bold enough to try to break through what Nemea and I have offered you. You break the sanction for yourself and your people and play with the dice of fate...Murali, you never cease to amaze me yet I cannot stop my own people. The Dendapim and the Union are under strong diplomatic alliances, and unless I return what I've protect you from, I cannot interfere."


He then stopped orbiting around her and repositioned himself in-front of her. "So what do you want?"

Now it was Murali's turn.


Murali walked forward and did not stop walking forward, forcing Mask to step back. She had her wings extended to their maximum span so stepping to side was not an option, unless one dared to ruffle her feathers.

‘Firstly, I called for you a while ago, did I not? Why are you so late?! Second, since when was enslavement, protection? And Furthermore, I will not stop the rebellion, for as I recall you BOTH refused to listen to my warnings! 'Flamar is fire, it cannot be so easily contained and once he spreads he cannot be so easily put out! If left unattended, these fires will spread and you will be burned.'. "
Murali finally stopped her seemingly endless advance and to her amusement, Mask would find that they did not travel at all or was this just an illusion? Was he really just one step away from falling into an endless pit? Was Murali going to push him in? This was her realm, and she could do as she pleased without any repercussion.

‘Go ahead Mask, send your Union against them, by the time they arrive it will be far too late and if by some miracle they do arrive in time, I doubt they will last long against Flamarite Cavalry. Do you recall the last time I unleashed them on your 'nation'? It was very amusing, don't you agree Prince of Thieves? I also recall this was the day that the Flamarites got their taste for Mask-men. Shall we revive this craving?”


Murali placed a finger on Mask‘s
 mask and as soon as the skin on her finger made contact with the mask, one could smell smoke. “We never knew this was flammable
 How interesting.”.

She did not notice it at first, and Mask possibly did not either, how she referred to herself as we or how when she said that last sentence, how her voice was not her own but of two others both females. Once she did realize what occurred Murali‘s face turned pale and her wings disappeared into nothing.

Her eyes, which were propped wide open, seemed to be those of a doll, black
cold
soulless. Murali felt weak, and dizzy. She even tried to walk towards Mask only to fall to her knees and she could not, by her own strength, lift herself.

“M
mas
Mask!”, she whispered, nearly inaudible. “Mask!”. This time her voice was louder. She was not furious, as one would have thought, at whatever treachery Mask and Nemea had done. Murali knew this was not his doing nor Nemea‘s.

“Mask! Stop your theatrics
 Its happening
 The union of the Sister Goddesses is becoming weaker
”.

Strength returned to her, and she managed to lift herself off the floor. When she arose, Mask was closer to her then he was previously (probably because she had taken a step forward before collapsing). Murali did not step back to create distance. Once more she stared Mask down, but this was not like the hateful glare she had given him earlier. This was the exact opposite of hate.

The Empress of the Gods, stood on the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms around Mask, embracing him. She then buried herself in his chest and she wept. It was a rather touching moment, if one were not asking oneself what the hell is she doing but then again this moment only last for an instant because it quickly turned sour.

“I told you to guard of the Fire, I told you to warn me when it’s light was dim! You bastard!... How could you permit this to happen? Did you think I was jesting when I entrusted it to you? Tell me my love, did you?!”. (she said a lot more then this but it’s better to leave such horrible swears out of this.)

Half of this was said while she had her face buried in his chest so it was muffled but Mask would have understood it. The other half was clear as day for Murali looked up at Mask and shouted it at him. From her eyes dripped warm tears (did you expect the Goddess of fire to have warm tears?) but you are probably still reading the part where Murali spoke these words:

“
Tell me my love
”.

Yes she was speaking to Mask, her rival. Yes she did indeed knew what she was saying. And Yes, she meant it. Murali, Goddess of Order and Fire, loved Mask, God of Corruption and Criminalty. I truly do not comprehend why this is such a shock. After all, Opposites attract.

“Your irresponsibility will cost me my life!”.

Murali continued to cry and weep and sob, (and occasionally curse Mask’s name) and with good reason. If the Fire, which she mentioned earlier, died out, she would die and the Sisters would return.

The Sisters and The Creation of Murali


Image

Ali, was the sister of Murr. Ali's worshippers were like the stars, countless and countless were the kingdoms that fell to them. Upon coming into being, she spread like wild fire and there was no water to stop her. Then the Dark God Apolloyon showed himself for the first time. Ali, so cocky and bold, was the first to oppose him. It was easy at first, but then defeat after defeat. She found herself cornered and with no where to run...

Image

Murr Vas Nee, Murr for short, was the Goddess of Morals, Justice, and Guidance. Her people were few and pale in comparison to her sisters but they were far more intelligent and advanced. Many adored her and her people, they had many allies. Conflict between her and her sister were common but it never got into full scale war, just small skirmishes. When Apolloyon appeared, Murr was hesitant on fighting him but when she saw that her sister was being beaten, she joined the fight if only to be beaten alongside her sister. Murr could see no victory, Fate destined them to end here at the hands of the Dark God but perhaps their people needed not die...

The Sisters, by means long lost, managed to unite themselves into one Deity, one entirely new Goddess who would unite their people and lead the Gods to victory but shortly after their unification, Apolloyon was defeated and sealed away. Murali, played a minor role in the First War of the Gods.

With Apolloyon gone, Murali focused on uniting her divided people and to aid her, she created a race of human like beings now known as Miraluka. It took many years, thousands and thounsands of them, but she eventually got them to cease their inner quarrels and unite as one. (The creation of the Reich.) It was only a 1000 years (a very violent 1000 years, war after war after war, the Reich was thirsty for land) after the creation of her Empire that she, Murali the Goddess of Order and Fire, met and fell in love with Mask...whom she loves even to this day...
Looking at Julius I cleaned my tears and confessed. "I too ignored the soothsayer...and I too was stabbed by some one I loved."

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Higurashi on Tue Jan 10, 2012 9:32 pm

To Battle!


Typhos watched as the pitable followers of Nemea were swept away by the onslaught of the Flamarites. Truely, it was a sight to behold, the massed ranks of fiery men at arms marching towards what could only be certain victory. For the first time, doubt came upon the general. Never before had he seen an enemy tear apart another army with such ease. It also became clear to him that this menace must be stopped. If the Flamarites were allowed to spread, eventually they would threaten the Imperium itself. So, here, now, it was his duty to put down the uprising. Gathering his lieutenants and captains together, the general gave his orders.

Arriving at the top of the hill, the Imperium army detachment formed up into triple spearhead formation. The tactic was far from simple, but easy to execute. The most heavily combat experienced troops would lead the spearhead, armed with large sheild and swords. Behind them would be men with spears, ready to stab at anyone trying to attack the man infront of them. In the core of each spearhead the archers and battlemages were stationed. Directly behind the spearhead would be a solid line of infrantry, five ranks deep. If the enemy decided to go down the trough inbetween the spearheads, the men on either side were to close shut like a vice, pinning the enemy in their ranks. The general Typhos himself led the middle spearhead, while his two captains lead the force on either side. The whole process of orgnanization took a little over a minute, as each man had learned his position long beforehand.

Blowing on war trumpets, the Imperium forces began to move at a steady pace down the hill towards the Flamarites. One might wonder why the Imperium did not have calvary. Infact, they did. They were hidden behind the hill that the main force was now advancing down, ready to spring into a pincer movement at a moments notice.
Image

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Lifecharacter on Tue Jan 10, 2012 11:57 pm

Standard Inquiry
Dverger Fort

At the woman's abrupt statement, a few of the Enforcers posted at the gate couldn't help themselves but give a slight chuckle at her misconceptions. The highest ranking among them, a man bearing the title of captain, stood on the passageway above the closed gate and leaned over the edge to see who it was that was making such requests. He trained his eyes on the lone traveler who alluded to the future arrival of others and called down to her. "We have a prosperous relationship with all people who obey the laws of this place. If you want something specific you'll have to inform us of which nation does not know of this and then I may be able to point you in the direction of someone who may help you."

There were really only three places to send a group intent on strict relationships these days; many of the Counsel have concerned themselves more with trade than with foreign relations and the Head of State was still being decided at this time. So that left the Head Librarian who would likely know the most about whatever nation the messenger hailed from, the Commander, who could bring any security concerns up to the Counsel at the next meeting, or, if they were thoroughly dedicated to their cause, they could speak to Thrudgelmir out in the fields.

Fit For Another
Shikeiki Mountain

Somewhat surprised by the unison speech of the potential clients, Kurae took a moment to collect her thoughts about the informative, but completely unhelpful description of the proposed job. "I am matriarch of these mountains and a leader amongst this group; it is not every day that such a group bears down upon my home so I considered it prompt to welcome whoever it may be. As for hunting your kind's so called King's Bane, I do not know of a better place you could have come to find yourself a dragon slayer, regardless of the nature of the beast." Her tone was always one that breathed with an air of supremacy regardless of who she talked to. It wasn't intentional just instinctual and constantly reinforced throughout her life's experience.

She turned her back to the four blind travelers and motioned for the guards stationed in silence to open the heavy entrance into her domain. "We will discuss the specifics of the contract with the person most likely to carry out your task. Of course, that is only if you are willing to pay the vast sum that must be awarded upon the retrieval of your divine blade. You seem able to afford it but the ways of the miser have taken hold of many people who don't want to see their problems vanish at the hands of talent." If they would follow her, a long stairway awaited their, hopefully steady, feet before they could even approach an area where proper business could be discussed.

Awaiting them, with her ears still ringing with the faint word that always injected her with anxiety, the founder hastily made her way to the place she assumed Kurae was alluding to; a rather spacious office that had remained unclaimed by any specific person and was repurposed into a meeting room whose removal would alienate the cause. Inside were eleven of the usual cushions, less if someone had stolen one as a replacement again, placed around a low end table obviously capable of accommodating the occupants of those seats. The room was rather plane when compared to those belonging to specific people, which is understandable and quite fitting for its purpose, as the potential clients would soon discover if they truly needed their dragon slain.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby TheNoremac42 on Wed Jan 11, 2012 12:43 am

Captured


As the Erebim glided through the air, he suddenly felt a strong force tug at his wings and chest. With a caw he slammed into the ground with a thud and a crack. Suddenly his vision became blurred and tunneled as a thunderous throbbing echo resonated throughout his carrion skull. A low groan escaped from his long black beak. The dark silhouettes of several pairs of boots were the last images he saw before his world turned black.

The Erebim could feel arms tugged under his own and his feet being dragged across the ground. Voices in the common tongue filled his ears as his mind began to emerge from the dark fog of unconsciousness. However, the noise abruptly halted, telling him that he and his capturers had gone indoors. . He could feel his feathered arms being forcibly bound behind him around a vertical cylindrical object. Finally, the bright of a lantern shone against his closed eyelids, and was quickly followed by the shock of brisk water splashing across his face. Opening his eyes revealed the grim faces of several humans clad in strong armor and that bore the markings of military officers.
Constructive criticism welcomed.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thorait on Wed Jan 11, 2012 6:58 am

Lahars realm
A bit of Lahar remained in his realm and spoke to Guardian with his cold hard voice “Head to the seas with the army to Denpadim, ignore the battle going on there and guide the forces unnoticed into the country to strike there to your main target that you now can guess. Go there alone first on a diplomatic mission report to the avatar and do as you want but perform the mission.” Guardian nodded and began to arrange this target pleased that he would perform a high priority target again.

A tent in Imperius camp
One of the librarians wasn’t present with the others he stood in a small tent his name Herin, a long thin man with a bald head and grey eye’s. He sat calmly accompanied by a pair of torturers on a chair watching the Erebim ”I’m impressed of your abilities’ to survive but shall we pas the torture and you just tell me what I want to know, we both know your going to last a wile loyal as you are but after some time you will be broken. Don’t think I will grab primal and physical tools to pain you because all knows that wouldn’t work instead I will do something worse.” Herin watched the creature calmly without disgust for it’s features or any reaction to possible insults but there was a slight air of danger around him making clear that he would perform the Remaire torture method of breaking the mind instead of the body trough various poisons and constant mental pressure until the person slowly and very clearly to themselves goes insane and after this with tell it. Lahar had designed this way of getting people to talk because physical pain is far too brute and takes too long.
Last edited by Thorait on Fri Jan 13, 2012 8:35 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby TheNoremac42 on Wed Jan 11, 2012 10:21 pm

The Rants of a Mad Bird
 Thing.


The Erebim tilted its head to the side to look at the librarian who was speaking to him, and his long curved beak twisted into what seemed to be a grin. A high pitched chitter escaped from the bird-man’s mouth before he replied to the human.

“Silly human,” he mocked, or more cawed in reply, “Do you honestly believe that your petty magics can break my mind? I am Erebim! I was forged from the will of the Dark Emperor himself! I have seen the darkest depths of the Abyss, where the hearts of all mortals are formed from darkness and shadow! So cold they are... So full of unkindled sorrow and hatred... For decades I have dwelt among the mortal minions of my master in Ereb’nathul, or as you mindless barbarians call it, the Shadow Lands. Simply the casual life of dwelling in those inhospitable lands puts your ‘interrogations’ to shame! You will feel the wrath of Erebuz fall upon you as fire, brimstone, and endless darkness!”

As the Erebim’s rant progressed, his dark mangy feathers stood on end like a cactus and static energy began to crackle across their surface in numerous bright blue arcs. A dark flame erupted on his clawed hands and in his eyes. The being lurched and struggled against his bonds as he squirmed in a furious frenzy, yet to no avail.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Saxious on Thu Jan 12, 2012 1:14 am

“Peace is the death of warriors. War is the birth of heroes.”
~Orc saying of war.


Kraz shrugged as yet another ship burned and began to sink, the orcs onboard that didn’t die because of the fire drowned in the sea. The Avuvians were fighting hard yet despite the many ships that they sunk the orcs didn’t fall short on ships, and the just kept on pressing harder and harder against the human defenses.

The orcs knew that isolation was a poor choice, especially for a war race such as their own, so they always kept a navy at their disposal. Many were bought by merchants for benefits and large amounts of ore while others were shambles and easily constructed ships that could (just barely) last on the sea.

The orcs were aiming to land on the tip of the Avuvian kingdom, near the city of Jukta, and so far the Avuvians were just making the orcs even more eager to fight. The ship masters steered the ships shamelessly into the Avuvian ships, boarding them and overrunning the ships’ crew.

Kraz had honestly expected more Avuvian ships to attack, yet he did see the human logic. Attacking the orcs now would surely cripple them when they landed yet it would also be near suicide for the Avuvians, the horde of ships would overrun them with time and the Avuvians had other enemies than the orcs.
The few human ships would kill as many as they could and die fighting against the odds. Admirable, Kraz’s advisors talked with admiration as they watched one of their ships sink.

“Land ahead!” an orc called from above and Kraz barked at Grom to pick him up so he could see. Indeed, it was now only a matter of time before the orcs would swarm the shores.

------------------------------


Horns were blown, thundering along the shores and up the hill and the animal hide drums resonated deeply, heard from miles away. The orcs were forming lines and marching steadily towards the large fortress of Jukta, massive mobs moving with sluggish discipline towards the Avuvian military city, and more being formed at the shore as the ships were unloaded of orcish warriors.

Crude war machines were pushed and pulled by the large ogres, though there were no siege towers, the orcs had still brought basilisks, trebuchets, siege ladders and rams to breach the wall.
The weapons were lined up and the orcs prepared to assault the walls. The crack of whips and the yelling of warlords was hear along the lines as the Clan leaders had their tribes put in place, and under the watchful eye of Grom, not a single battle broke out between rival Clans.

“Raise the white flag. I wish to talk with these humans first,” Kraz ordered, not bothering to change his gaze from the fruit that he was peeling. Though he didn’t notice that his generals hesitated, it was a sneer from Grom that made them jump into action.

A large pole was fetched along with a ragged and dirty white cloth, a single orc braved to run forward with the flag, waving it. Kraz knew that humans used a ‘white flag’ to signal to their enemies that they wished to talk, so he’d their own methods.

“Bring me halfway, Grom. No bodyguards! Just me and Grom,” Kraz said, stroking his staff as he was placed on Grom’s large iron shoulder pad. Kraz’s crippled leg was clearly seen however he didn’t care if other orcs saw his weakness, they all knew better than to oppose him, even a single stare from his burning left eye was enough to make even the most hate-fueled clan wars end without further killing. However Kraz was no fool, he knew that the orcs respected strength more than they respected those who were feared, and that was why Grom was there.

Grom was larger than any of the orcs, stronger by far and his reputation as a warrior was legendary amongst orcs. Yet the best of all was Grom’s undying loyalty to Kraz, and if the strongest orc alive was loyal to Kraz then every other clan would think hard (twice) before they challenged Kraz’s authority.

“Every man as a price and every man has strings, yet few men have a puppeteer’s mind.”
~Mask’s description of mankind’s behavior.


Mask’s mask winced is discomfort as he listened to every word Murali said. He had known that something was amiss when he saw her unarmed, yet alone, her people rebelling against Nemea, his only closest ally, and now here he stood. Bound by politics to help Nemea and torn to Murali by his emotions. What should he do? He didn’t dare to backstab Nemea, no she was far too powerful for him to take on alone, and to start another mortal war with Murali could mean her death.

He silently cursed himself for being such a fool. He thought himself smart, he thought he had done what was right and ensured Murali’s continual existence, yet all he had done was to bait her even closer to Crypt’s claws. He had hoped that enslaving Murali’s worshipers to Nemea’s people would allow them to continue practicing in peace. He had hoped that the abdication of Jack would have brought the Union under more control, alas, it had all backfired. “I’m sorry,” Mask finally spoke, closing his arm around her, offering her comfort. “I’m sorry that I failed you, this was not what I wanted for us. For you. For anyone.”

Ever since the last war against Appollyon Mask had been planning tiredlessly to find a solution that would save the reputation of Mask and Murali, all the while she would live in peace and he would no longer have to worry about his people endangering her. Yet he had overlooked one factor, his own corruption. How could Mask plan against himself? How could he fight his own nature? No, all along his own mind had planned against what he wanted, his subconscious had been there and plotted it all.

The God of Criminals had backstabbed himself.

It was that fact that stung him harder than any other insult Murali threw at him. The reality was far too grim for him to witness and now here he stood. Trapped between two Gods whom he couldn’t turn his back to.

“I am what I am,” Mask then said. “A Prince of Thieves. I cannot forgive myself for what I’ve done nor can I fight what who I am.” He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “I cannot change what is happening, nor can I cut the threads of fate loose. Murali, please be strong in the coming times, for though I will always be here for you, I cannot stop the inevitable battles that will come now. Stay strong, for me.”

“I’ll give him an offer he can’t refuse.”
~Jim Mobley’s proposal for luring a rebel leader into a trap.


“Give me that monocular,” Jim said and took the device from the soldier next to him. Looking through the object he could see the horsemen turn and leave. Jim was certain that they had been the group who had come to negotiate with Karl, however they had suddenly turned and were now riding away.

“Strange, why would they call for a meeting when they are the ones that leave?” Jim asked aloud, he was clearly annoyed as he had spent good coins in getting hastily assembled highway robbers and mercenaries to man the walls. “Have the men stand at the walls for a while yet, I dislike it when I know enemies are at the gates.” Jim turned and walked to the office, busying himself with calculating how much he had lost in this folly. He was rich, yes, but his pockets had bounds for how much he could spend.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”
~Baron Karl von Sneiker’s question to his Lieutenant during the Union-Archious War, at the Battle of the Old Highway.


The winds blew strongly as the ships neared the Dendapim shores. The Maskmen had set sails from the southern ports, and since they had no artillery with them, loading the ships had been significantly quicker and before the day was over, the ships were leaving the ports.
They had followed the Avuvian shores for a while and then turned down through the great sea, head straight towards the Trade Straight where the majority of the merchant ships entered and left for the Dendapim ports.

Mask must have known the urgency for the weather had remained strong and helpful throughout the while tour. They did encounter Avuvian patrols but no battle was fought between the two, they simply ignored each other.

“Port ahead!” a man called from the lookout. Karl looked through his large monocular and saw the port, it was still under the rule of the Dendapim, thankfully, however there were far from the normal amount of ships docked. No sign of merchants, nor mercenaries, only meant that the battle must be going poorly.
“Have the soldiers prepared and bring me a map. We need to march for our allies’ aid immediately,” Karl ordered as he pondered over how he’d defeat an enemy without artillery.




“Keep up the pace or be left behind!” Karl threatened as he rode up and down the ranks of soldiers, drowning at their slow progress. The landing at the Dendapim port had taken far too long than he had wished, soldiers had strayed off to taverns, there weren’t enough men to unload the supplies quickly enough, and the space the port had to offer was far from enough for his army.

Now they marched to the constant drumming, the pace was ruthless but they cowered much land in the time. Scouts and riders had been send ahead to find the best route, Maskmen maps were never to be trusted and Karl would make no exception with this situation.
Caravans of supplies were in the middle and far back of the long columns of men. The sight of the salted food was more than enough for a few to attempt to break rank and steal something, but Karl had been no fool and had given the rider a whip to use if anyone dared to steal.

The scouts returned that night with news. The revolution was against the Dendapim’s favor, or so they said, and it was centered around the cliffs near the Grelep-Grep which was yet another day’s hard march on the road, and Karl didn’t want to risk running into an Avivian rescue party and fight two enemies.
“I’m surprised that we haven’t encountered mercenaries so far, milord. Normally they swarm to such conflicts like flies to a cow’s arse,” one of the captains said, smoking his pipe thoughtfully.
“Aye, however, we won’t be the only one that will be storming to the Dendapim’s help. Remember, their technology is what keeps us going, and if they fall and their knowledge lost, we will be in deeper shit than I’d dare to imagine.”

Karl, as well as the other captains, found himself nodding to these statements. The sheer knowledge that the scholars of Dendapim had was enough to catch the attention of every kingdom, and the Union relied heavily on their schooling and importing their products. Hell, their language was the second most spoken language amongst merchants and nobles while the common people spoke Common, the nobles and rich would pride themselves in showing how good friends they were with the Dendapims.
“We need to send a message to both the revolutionaries and the Dendapims. Tell them that we’re coming, and they the revolutionaries better hold back, you-” Karl pointed at a nearby guard-“fetch me piece of paper, I need to write.”

To: Dendapim Leader
From: Baron Karl von Sneiker, of the Heckclown Union

I’ll cut to the chase, I’m arriving within a day with a good thirteen thousand soldiers from my personal army. I’ve got no artillery for they will slow me down.

I know nothing of these Revolutionaries, but I can assure you that the Heckclown Union and the Shadow council has no interest in seeing their complete in any form.


With that finished, Karl had the letter handed to a scout who would ride out as soon as he got on his horse.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thorait on Thu Jan 12, 2012 9:54 am

The tent
Herin put on a pair of thick gloves wile saying calmly “I know magic and physical pain can’t do you much unless we go on for weeks or months.” The gloves were made of a rough red material with nothing peculiar about it expect a piece of robe coming out of each finger at the knuckle and it was obviously too thick to be a normal glove and it wasn’t. Herin pulled the string’s on his left glove and short needles appeared out of every finger top and he grabbed the Erebims face with his right hand turning the face upwards to reveal the neck. His left hand moved quickly placing two needles into the two arteries running in the neck wile he injected the middle needle deeper into the flesh just missing the essential parts to speak but entering the throat were it just as it’s siblings began to inject the poison that would tear a normal mans mind apart in less than a minute. The poison worked very precise generating every feeling of pain possible to the subject wile causing a uncontrollable shaking as muscles began to tear themselves apart. Herin shifted hands to inject the other poison working quickly as the two torturers held the Erebim tightly. The other poison would causes heavy hallucination and a much slower and perfectly noticeable loss of memory working chronological. Both poisons had many smaller effects such as loss of hair or in this case feathers, incredibly burning in the eye’s, heavy cases of vomiting and the feeling your chocking all the time by weakening the lungs it also worked as a sterilizer because Remaire had this in most of there punishments. The fun fact of the poison’s was that the effect would increase with every injection wile it also worked incredibly addictive to the body causing a slow death after a day of slowly dying so there really was no change of survival after this and Herin knew this and said calmly as the first effect’s would begin with a heavy headache ”I trust the current you can withstand any pain but a different person to be precise a ball of sadness insanity and pain will gladly tell us everything if we cure you.” Remaire had a anti venom to counter the memory los but nothing to safe this creature after injection were practically dead.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Higurashi on Thu Jan 12, 2012 9:21 pm

Hark, watch for the Herald!

Long had the God of Travelers labored over one project. It had been a painstaking process to say the least. Getting an orc to stand still, let alone allow you to search his mind, was a tedious task. Now, they were all convienently gathered in one place. True, there had been the odd raiding band that was still seperate, but the majority of orcs in the world were here. This was exactly the sort of opprotunity he had been waiting for. While the Orc army waited impatiently for the order to attack, the God travelled and sifted through the mass of memories and minds.

It had come to his attention at some point that the most likely time to find peices of his goal was when an Orc's main instinct was activated: War. So, now seemed to be the perfect time to collectively peice together what he could find amongst the Orc racial memory. Somehow, there was an absence of orc females in the army. Sethal sensed this might have something to do with why he could not fit all the peices together. So, he searched, and searched, and sought the answer yet again. Finally, it hit him like a smack on the face. True, orcs bred like rabbits, but no one had ever seen an orc female. Not once in recorded history.

What most Orcs probably felt when Sefthal extracted the fragments of Urgael from them was a vague sense of unease. It was not faith that was holding together, rather, it was fear. So, needless to say, a sense of wrongness prevailing over the entirety of the army would probably have mixed results. So, Sefthal bade a hasty retreat before the combined might of hundreds of thousands of minds assaulted his own. Finally coming to a rest on a far hill, the Messenger God fiddled with the peices, much like a rubix cube, or a puzzle with atoms for peices. Finally, to his suprise, he found the right combination. Peices and fragments began to readily lock into place. It would take some time, but he was making headway.

Today, we dine in Hades

Anarchae was bored to say the least. There was nothing interesting going on lately. No wars, no rebellions, nothing. Then it occured to her, there was one rebellion she knew of. However, those people already had a God to look after them... As she continued thinking about it, the Goddess began to smile. Why not help the mortals? It was her buisness alone whether she acted as her pupose intended. So, the Goddess departed from the shadows, and appeared to the leader of the Flamarite forces in the current rebellion. She didn't manifeast herself directly, mother would only become prissy if she did. So, instead she sent a vision of herself. Looking around the area, she could see her brothers forces marching in her general direction. "Ah," she whispered. "Playing your little games brother? Well, we shall see about that."

The Goddess image turned to the Flamarite woman whom was apparently the leader. She only manifested herself so the one woman could see the image. "Ah, hello there darling," The Goddess purred. "It seems that you wish to reclaim your former glory, yes? You want to have your revenge on those who enslaved your people? Well, I could help you with that. I don't ask for much for my help, just recognition. You can worship whomever you want, just let me have the joy of helping you..." The Goddess's words were honeyed, and alluring. But if you were smart, there was always a hidden price tag on a God's help.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby TheNoremac42 on Fri Jan 13, 2012 7:47 pm

The Interrogation


The Erebim glared in fury from being handled by the human, and squawked angrily. Contact with the carrion humanoid resulted in the offender being jolted by the static energy that surrounded it and the freezing sensation of the black flames that coated his arms. Suddenly the Erebim threw his head back and uttered a deafening screech.

As the powerful drugs began to take effect, the bird’s limbs began to convulse while its black eyes rolled back into its head. A low sickly groan churned from the creature’s beak, mixing with occasional murmurs in a strange and unknown language. One by one, the pitch black feathers of the being fell onto the ground, revealing an equally as dark skin beneath. Among the endless babble, gibberish, and nonsense spewed from the bird’s beak, only a few words were discernible.

“Prophecy. Army. Shadow. Erebim. Flame. Shal’atar. Dunes. Ambush.”

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Tsoibe on Sat Jan 14, 2012 4:41 am

A well-mannered Welcome
The Royal Castle at Forburg


The old general stood atop the guard tower that was strategically build along the street leading up to the castle. At the beginning of the street stood the massive first gate that visitors would have to pass. The only way to reach the top of the gate's walls was to move up the serpentine road leading up to the main castle. The gate itself was guarded, but open for the expected visitors. Additional guardsmen were ordered to wait for the dark elves and escort them to the giant castle towering the hill. As soon as the cloaked dark elves arrived at the gates they were searched thoroughly for any hidden weapons, but allowed to keep any weapons they carried openly. Though many of the guards disagreed with that tradition, it was commonly allowed for visitors to arrive to any meeting armed.

After their weapons were taken away and brought to a secure room within the gate's fortification, four of the guardsmen got into position on either side of the small group. As soon as their guests were ready, they started to walk up the road. They passed the big guard tower, it was connected to the main castle by a narrow bridge. Lord Hane followed the group with his eyes, as soon as they passed the tower he made his way back to the castle. He would be there much earlier than the group of guards and dark elves, who had to move along the whole side of the castle to reach the top of the hill. There they were awaited by another group of guards, these seemed to wear even better armor than their colleagues you have seen in the city. Most of them wear expansive red robes above their polished armor, showing the sign of the crossed silver blades you have seen on quite a few banners around the town.

A royal servant, dressed in similar red robes to that of the guards, awaited the visitors. Once they reached the entrance to the castle, he bowed before them and guided them inwards. After they passed the massive walls, the were lead through a large interior courtyard. While there were no more guards that escorted them, the guests of the seneschal were sure that watchful eyes of the palace guards laid on every single step of theirs. The main corridor held paintings of wonderful art, scenes of heroic battles against giant monsters next to portraits of men and women in armor or royal garments. The large door to the left of the end of the corridor was already open, so the guests may enter. The servant waited at the door and signaled the visitors to enter. After the pirate exchanged a few words with his obvious guards, the servant followed him inside, closing the door behind them.

Lord Hane waited with the middle of the hall, next to him stood his wife. Behind them was a large table filled with specialties from all over Ruwen. It was mostly hearty food, something you would find in any good tavern. At the same time it was a good variety, since they rarely had dark elves as guests. The duke stood silently, waiting for his guest to bow before him and introduce himself. He just raised his eyebrow as the visitor openly claimed to be a pirate lord. One, who would come in diplomatic terms, just would rarely announce himself as a criminal. Nonetheless they were now here and the traditions of the hospitality were to be respected.

As soon as the pirate raised himself, Hane bowed his head just slightly as matter of respect. Than he introduced the only other person present, while their guest would bow in front of her: "Welcome to Forburg, Lord Snowsong. I am Lord Hane Burrow, the Duke of Forburg. Let me introduce you to my wife, Lady Noiona of Forburg." The woman next to the Duke curtseyed before the dark elf, obviously even more suspicious of their guest than her husband. "I am sorry to inform you that Her Majesty won't be able to attend to this meeting. She just recently left Forburg to be present at the festivities in another town. Though I am allowed to handle any affairs that may come up during her absence", the old man said and was about to wait for a reaction of Lord Baile, but than it seemed like he remembered something, "Oh, but please, what kind of host you must mistaken me for. Please have a seat and eat or drink something after your long travels." With that the Duke of Forburg gestured towards one of the three seats at the large table, the one to the left of the end of the table. He waited for the pirate to sit, before he would himself take the seat at the end of the table and his wife the place to his right. "So, Lord Snowsong, what matters brought you to Ruwen?",




By Divine Orders
The Divine Realm of Imperios


Oham oversaw the presence of Lahar. The workings of the God of Logic were always predictable for him, even thought logic isn't necessarily a thing that came to a god naturally. Well, at least he easily perceived his habits in the divine mettle, the rest wasn't part of his duty. The God of War waited for Lahar to step into the background, he gave his host and Leolik the chance to talk before he himself raised his voice. It was a matter of courtesy to let the guest, who arrived first, speak first as well. Silently and with still crossed arms, did the Ironclad Lord wait for them to exchange words. One would have noticed that he didn't even react to Imperios placing his hand on his shoulder for a moment. His eyes laid upon the two, while his mind wandered far off for a matter of moments.

In the distant mortal realm, he could hear them. The loud screams for war, the stampede of the horses, there was no hiding from senses in a battle. The battle was about to start, a battle to decide the freedom of a part of Murali's followers. The furious Flamar echoed loudly within the God of War, while the silent whispers of the Dendapim where mere whispers in the background. Yet they all prayed to him, if they knew it or not. They hearts were set for war, for bloodshed, to reach their respective goals through a conflict of steel and will. Oham was silent for quite a while, observing the actions of the mortals. He held no delight in his work, it was a duty that had to be done. Without conflicts the worlds, be they on the mortal realm or any divine realm would be unmoving, unable to be changed and formed. The war has just began, yet it already lasted for generations. Only time will tell, how many more of these mortals will rise and fall in its tides.

Though what he saw, what he felt besides that battle was outrageous. It seemed that brother and sister were the same, even though different in so many matters. It wasn't enough that Imperios dwindled personally in the mortal realm, now his twin sister also engaged in battle that were not hers. First things could be forgiven in the act of divine warfare, there were reasons that might made it necessary. Gods have enacted personally with their followers in different matters, it was a thing seen quite commonly amongst the past years. Though the act, to bargain with the followers of another divine being, without seeking the audience with their respective patrons, was a law not to be broken. Anarchae would soon find out for herself that the Goddess of Order herself was not to be fooled lightly, even in her current weakened position. Should she further try to mettle in affairs she better stayed away from, would others take this matter into their hands. There were always those, whose duty it was to made sure the divine laws were adhered to.

He turned his attention back to the current affairs. "Imperios. I am not here to chat with you about mere vanities," the distant metallic voice of the Ironclad Lord sounded. His cold eyes rested upon his host, obviously seeing through his actual state. The remaining flaws in the armor of the other god, which slowly closed the moment they talked. It was obvious that he had already spoken with his mother about the recent events. It seemed like a long time, till his voice rose again: "Though, I see that you were already reminded of your place. Remember this lesson, for every lesson learned holds a way for future glory." The God of War stood silent for another time, his eyes moving from Imperios to Leolik and back. "Yet, there is another matter for which I had to speak with you. Your preparations for war against the Erebrim has awakened my interest", the metallic voice announced. Indeed it had caught the attention of various people that pledged allegiance to the God of War.

All amongst the mortal realm, Oham could hear the prayers of the various mercenary companies and knightly orders that followed him. They asked were their service would be needed, were they could reach their goals, whatever that might be. Some prayed for a chance to earn their money, some in in religious zealousness to further the goals of their orders. Whenever they find one place to do so, they thanked fate or the God of War himself, if he was the reason or not. "There are mortals, who seek my favor to aid your conquest and I might be willing grant it. But, I have to make sure you will adhere to the ancient laws of our kind in the future", spoke the god to his fellow deity. He was indeed concerned about this. Imperios always seemed to be one of the gods that was bending the laws to a dangerous amount. He gave the other god enough time to think, before he continued: "Don't let short-lived conquest blind your sight, Imperios. You are one of us, an equal amongst gods, so behave like one. Don't let the advice of those that were before you go waste because of such childish matters."




A Concerned Individual
The River City of Nedreth


It had been about a day since the queen arrived. She quickly had set her quarters within the castle of the baron, who had his own chambers emptied and prepared for Her Majesty. While the old castle appeared to be nothing special on the outside, its deep dungeons hold many artifacts from the times long gone. Sadly much of the old castle was flooded as the walls were destroyed during the legendary battle of Brinulf against the Dragonwyrm. Perval even went to one of the old masters of wizardry to seek counsel and ask for his aid. The castle of the baron towered above the main river than tided down the massive western mountains towards the oceans in the far east. The boats of the people, who lived around Nedreth, the so-called Rivermen, where nearly always to be seen from the castle's walls.

Especially now, that the queen and her court was in the city, many of the people from the surrounding villages rowed their boats into the city. Farmers and craftsmen took their families with them to the festivities in the big city and at the same time tried to trade some of their goods with the guests from all corners of the country. The best of them hoped for their chance to present gifts of brilliant quality to Her Majesty. Many of the rivers that moved through the city itself were as crowded as the streets ashore. The small boats of the villagers were fastened to the large ferries of the merchants creating unsure bridges over the smaller canals within the town. Songs were sung all over the town, bards that boasted to have traveled every corner of the world told their stories in songs and poems. The people celebrate as colorful and joyfully as they could. Strangers were considered friends and friends considered to be family during this time of the year. Neighborhoods threw together what they had for their own dinner with everyone invited in their backyards.

It was amongst this varied bunch of people that the self-proclaimed Marshall of the 'Order of the Red Blades', a widely known mercenary company with quite some influence, had chosen to attend the festivities. Even though the young leader of the order, Aldrick was sometimes viewed as a religious fanatic by some people amongst Ruwen, his strict order within the company was also respected. He viewed the world as a place that had to be covered in wars and as such furthered distrust and rebellions in various countries. Not that he himself was a fighter to be on the first line of any battle, at least not when it could be evaded. He saw himself as a prophet, one to ready the peoples of the world for their end to come. Whatever divine power blessed him with magical powers seemed to support his goals. Even with many seeing him as a dangerous heretic, he kept to the laws of Ruwen, he even supported those that would benefit from his short term goals. So it wasn't really surprising that many weapon-smiths of Ruwen and their guilds supported the 'Red Blades'.

He used the past years, that the queen granted audience to the people of Nedreth, to try to convince her to seek to conquer their neighbors. Though this time, he had another goal in mind. He brought news, even thought he hadn't fully understood them himself. The dangers of the reports he carried with himself were unknown to himself, as were the things he knew. If he would be aware of the assassins that were sent to stop him from spreading the information he carried, he would have taken more of his soldiers than the two honor guards with him. The two big warriors that walked at his side were each armed with a longsword that was hidden in a well decorated scabbard. Their steel breastplates were polished for this special event, slightly shining in the bright light of the sun. The white hoods were drawn deep into their faces, which were covered by various ceremonial scars to show their dedication to the cause of the order.

Now these three mercenaries were amongst the other guests of the city waiting close to the central market. There the Queen of Ruwen herself would soon appear to honor the best of the young smith apprentices. Though that was of no interest for him, much more important was the audiences the queen would grant to her people later. Than, while he traveled the world to spread war, Aldrick had never forgot about his roots within country he was born. Neither did his allies, so they made sure that he was elected as a representative for one of the many guilds of Nedreth every year. While the normal populace feared him somehow, many other mercenaries used their opportunity to learn of wars, where their service could attain a high price. Yet this year, while not forgetting his own goals, he brought those other news with him for the queen herself. His reasons for this were secret, maybe it was a well hidden sense of patriotism, maybe the hopes to sell the information. Sadly for him, there were others that knew all to well for what reasons these news had to remain a secret.
Last edited by Tsoibe on Mon Jan 16, 2012 3:05 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thorait on Sat Jan 14, 2012 6:44 am

Imperios realm
Lahar observed and let the god of war speak but couldn’t allow this and as he spoke Lahar added 10 percent to himself ”Old doesn’t mean good and as you spoke Imperios is a god. One of us and he should behave as one and as the old show there incompetence in a revolution and tyranny by creating a rule when we didn’t even exist and then expect us to follow it. Oham you call him a god yet you treat him as child.” Lahar had now a very emotional tone in his voice and his monotone voice had turned into a inspiring voice that still possessed the cold hard under tone of Lahar but had much more persuasion than before.

The tent
Herin calmly wrote down every word of the gibberish and after he was done he watched the effect and handed it too a runner to bring it too Remder before he calmly watched the Erebim with no sense of emotion as the drugs still took there effect that even made the two tortures have pity for the Erebim.

Remder’s cart
Remder read the report and the only words that where understandable were a little bit confusing or at least not completely clear. Prophecy. Army. Shadow. Erebim. Flame. Shal’atar. Dunes. Ambush, Prophecy probably meant the rite that Erebus used to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies. Army had to point to the Shadow legion that were described in the prophecy, shadow was clear, Erebim and flames unimportant. Shal’atar had to mean something in the language of the Erebim but Remder didn’t understand what. Dunes and Ambush were clear. Remder stood up and walked trough the camp to Ivarius ”We have had success with the prisoner but I think the doses was a little too big because we had suspected the Erebim to have a greater resistance. The words that were clear are Prophecy. Army. Shadow. Erebim. Flame. Shal’atar. Dunes. Ambush. Any questions?”

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby LuckyNumber24 on Sun Jan 15, 2012 1:49 pm


Panio's Choice
Panio looked down at the floor as his father scolded him. What he said was true, although Panio would never admit it out loud.

“I have long offered you my protection and long have you refused it, telling me that you were a god yourself and I should see that. To prove that I do see that, I am saying this now. My Avatar and his forces are outside your borders. Will you give me permission to send them further and aid your people? I will ask for nothing in exchange save that you listen to what I have to say to you in this meeting."

Panio was startled by his father's words. Was Ulmo actually asking him for permission? The young God wasn't sure what to say at first, but he eventually found his answer. “Yes they may.” Panio had an urge to say “thank you” but he restrained himself. He couldn't just make this much progress just to loose the respect he had earned. Then Panio thought of what an adult would say. “But can't allow you to save my people without some kind of payment. I have a large pod of Sea Maids near a ship of yours. I will have them escort your sailors to their destination and aid them in whatever way possible.
Honestly, Panio always had a pod of Sea Maids patrolling in Avuvian territory, just in case. “I believe this ship has some rather important characters to your nation.”

Eden's Madness

The Avatar paced back and forth with anxiety, worried about the Oracle's words. There was no way her prediction was accurate. No one would kill Eden. Those oracles just liked to frighten him. That was it. It was just a cruel joke. A bead of sweat formed on Eden's brow and he turned to see a cloaked figure, clad in a tattered black dress. The Avatar cleared his throat and spoke to the figure. “It took you long enough. What goes on in the other nations?” The figure quickly kneeled to Eden and pulled back their hood to reveal a mask. Long raven hair framed the mask as the figure stared up at Eden. A feminine voice echoed from the mask like a wisp of wind. “Not much news my lord. Though an old acquaintance of yours has been captured by the people of Ulmo.” Eden shook his head. “That fool. We will let him rot there for a while. But he may become an good ally later. Anything else? How are the ranks among the Ladies? I hope that Blood isn't causing as much trouble as she was before.” The lady stiffened at the sound of her sister's name. “Is she, Shadow?” She sighed and shook her head. “She's fine. I can handle her.” Eden looked over her shoulder and glared at the lady. “You better. Cause if you can't...I might have to put her in the Cage.” Shadow narrowed her eyes at Eden, but then nodded. “She won't become a problem. And if she does, I'll deal with it.” Eden smiled cruelly. “Good. You are dismissed.” After a moment, Shadow disappeared in a dark mist. Eden smiled to himself in a strange manner. There would be no rebellion. As long as he had the Ladies on his side.

The Raid Part 2

Amar couldn't take much more. The raiders were relentless, coming in from all sides.
The Tribe had lost several members already to these brutes and Amar was getting tired. They seemed to have an infinite amount of energy and strength, easily taking down the smaller Panians. Though they were holding themselves together at the moment, it wouldn't be long before they had to flee into the woods.

“Aislin, take down the orc trying to burn down our huts! Red, come with me!” He barked orders at his warriors. The one he called Red ran to him, her red cloak trailing behind her. She took off her hood and put the hatchet in her hand into her leather belt. “Let's get the mounts. We have a much better chance on them.” Amar told her and they were of to the stables, where they released all the mounts. Strange and exotic creatures were used as mounts by the Panians. The animals ran into the battle, their riders jumping onto their backs. Red mounted her strange white horse with a single horn protruding from it's head. Amar leaped onto his mount, a large stag with golden antlers. They charged into the fight, now with their advantage, and slew several of the brutes. They were changing the tide of the battle, but not fast enough. Amar was suddenly pulled off his stag by a large orc, who raised a mace above his head and as he was about to bring it down onto Amar, he was struck by an arrow that punctured his throat.
Amar looked around, stunned, and saw the Avuvian colors. He smiled to himself, getting on his stag and riding to where the Avuvian Infantry stood. He raised his blade and yelled. “My Avuvian brothers, please come onto our land and help us!”


Eden's Deals


Eden sat down at a black, round table with the four darkest and most evil citizens of the Eye. If these rebels wanted to masquerade as saints and white knights, he would answer with the cruelest allies he could think of.

To his left was Grelda, the blind witch. She was notorious for luring travelers into her cottage in the woods and then eating them. She was said to like children the best. Though obviously beautiful and youthful, there was a large burn on the left side of her face. Rumor had it she was pushed into an oven by two of entrees.

Her colorless eyes gazed blindly at the beast opposite of her. His name was Lykos and he had quite a past. He was once a noble, rich and handsome, but then his vanity got in the way when Selene came to test him. She turned him into horrible beast, a wolf like creature that was cursed to prey upon men. He was known to be incredibly cunning, learning shapeshifting magic to gain the trust of others.

Then, there was Estella, a noble so powerful and rich that she was called the Queen of Utio and the Lady of Lifect. She was known to be cruel and horrible, banishing several of her step daughters into the woods. She was cut throat and vain, using manipulation and magic to get what she wanted.

And lastly, the most dangerous and troublesome of the bunch, Rumpelstiltskin. He was a dark elf, and a sorcerer of sorts. He was feared by much of the Eye and of the whole world. He was infamous for making deals with royalty. Many were in debt to him.

“I'm so glad that all of you could make it here.” Eden said. Though his words were warm, his voice told a different story. “As you may be aware of the Blind Eye is attempting to have a rebellion against the government-” “Actually, you must be aware that it's against you.” The witch interjected with a smiled, still gazing at the Wolf. “They have no problem with the government.”

Eden was annoyed by that. He kept his cool demeanor as he continued to speak. “No matter what the case, I am the avatar and to rebel against me is to rebel against the Trinity and the Eye. I simply wish to exterminate this problem before it becomes more of a nuisance than it already is. And I would like your help to do it.”

Estella smirked at him, the crown in her hair glistening in the candlelight from the chandelier overhead.
“Surely a couple of rouge assassins can't be giving you that hard of a time. Why can't your Ladies of Death handle them.” Eden glanced at Estella and looked around the table. “Most of The Ladies will be away on a little mission of their own. I don't want to wait for them to come back. I want to crush this problem while it's still laying roots. ”

Rumpelstiltskin let out a strange chuckle as he stared at Eden with dark green eyes that seem to pop out of his skull. “But methinks we'll be wanting our payment now, my boy. I know what I'll be wanting from ya.” The elf smiled, revealing sharp and jagged yellow teeth. Eden scoffed. “What do you want, my first born? Good luck with that.”

Rumpel shook his head, his tangled, shoulder length hair whipping around. “I'll be wanting something from those pretty lasses. The one's who know and see.” His grin grew to an almost impossible length and width.

Grelda looked interested when she heard that and she spoke up. “I want the Claws.” she said. “I want the Heart.” said Estella. The wolf tapped his claws against the table saying, “I want the Bones.”

The elf chuckled at how quickly they took the bait. “I'll just take whatever is left over.”

Eden nodded. “That is an acceptable price. The Oracles are to be dealt with anyways.”
The Avatar smiled on the inside. There was no way this rebellion would be anything serious.


The Oracle's Hearing


West was meditating when the voice of Eden entered her ear.
“The Oracles are to be dealt with anyways.”

She gasped, opening her eyes. She ran to the other oracles.
“Eden is going to kill us!” East's jaw dropped. “Why?”
West shook her head wildly. “I have no clue, but he is. Maybe he's mad about what North said earlier?”
Then she turned to North with an annoyed look on her face. “It's your fault he wants us dead!”

North rolled her eyes. “No. He believes we are traitors. And he's using are magical items as payment to someone.” South looked at her, confused. “How'd you know that?” North sighed again. “I saw it.”
East looked panicked. “We have to leave the palace!” she whispered harshly. “We have to leave the city.” South said. “The Blind Eye will kill us, cause they think that we're spies for Eden.

Another voice whispered to West. A soft, gentle voice, the voice of Eve herself.
'Leave now. Get help.' and then suddenly, the voice was gone.

West, began to collect her things, her favorite clothes and weapons, and put them into a leather bag.
“Ladies, we have to go. Now!” The others looked shocked for a moment, but then they began to get their things as well.

East heard the doors to their chamber unlocking and she panicked. She grabbed her bag and East, looking for a way to exit. South pointed at the window, grabbing her own bag.

Just as the door was opening, the Oracles vanished through the window.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Oran Tarlin on Sun Jan 15, 2012 6:07 pm

To Catch the Nearest Way

The Avatar's Palace



A young alchemist was bent over a set of vials. There was a persistent hissing from a kettle and the sound of crashing as his young daughter beat jovially on scattered metal pots. A day ago this room was filled with Alchemists, clambering over the pages. Not so much writing as lists of chemicals and ingredients, it was the point of much debate. Certain things must have been extinct, and most of the men left when they found "Golden Life Elixer" to be little more than fish soup.

But this was a strange recipe. It was precise and involved. A shaft of light had to be held on the vial at all times, it had all the ingredients of gunpowder, but came together almost violently. In the instructions it read prayers, but not all of them to Nemea. Many of them may not have even been to deities.

His daughter had obviously crawled off, because he heard the familiar sound of pots falling down stairs.

He began to stir the mixture, trying his best to enunciate the prayers in the old language as he thought it may have sounded. The room was suddenly full of the smell of death. He understood now the prayers, they were calling for strength, for ambition, and for transcendence, and they kept the tempo beautifully. He readied the last vial with his free hand, filled with a carefully distilled liquor, it was to be poured into the still-spinning liquid. He poured the liquid and stepped back from the vial, seeing it suddenly fill with luminous fire.The hissing and crashing increased, and for a moment he turned to look for his daughter.

The explosion shook the foundations of the room, shattered every bit of glass and buckled the doors. The flash was, for a moment, blinding.

The men sent to rob the palace of its books could not stifle their curiosity. They ran to the archway, stepping over the splintered wood and glass.

A soft grey haze dissipated quickly from around the ceiling, and tiles fell with strange softness from the heights, and against the quiet there was a distant sound of sobbing.

On the table a broken vial sputtered fire, which seemed to bleed a stream of dull red powder.

Vile Esteemed

The Fields of Grelep-Grep



Menale's horse kicked away the earth with every step, and seemed to soar. The bullet Menale had received to the back had struck just on the edge of the belt, ricocheted off. Perhaps it killed a man. That was the sacrifice then, that another men would melt into the earth and Menale might linger with just a bruise.

The rocking of the horse sent sharp pains through his heart, and he reached instinctively for the garnet that adorned his belt. Feeling its crystalline surface he regained composure, and began to halt the horse.

He could see the cliffs, and the colorful tent roofs peeking up above the canopies, and opposite, just as far, the Flamarites, stalled, or perhaps so massive they could not be seen to move. There were more soldiers, perhaps, who were swarming in behind even them. The rats had allies They .would burn the outposts and the ports. They would trample the fields until they were hard as pavement and crash up against the cliffs of Grelep-Grep like waves. Worst of all they would say it was him. No greater humiliation than the great men shown to be mortal.

He rode back towards the fight, to observe it, and his eyes began to burn with fire at the sight of a white flag, which caught the light and glimmered as it waved. The man who shook it frantically shouting to the empty air.

Menale's eyes shimmered with the same light caught in the gem on his belt. He dropped from his mount, and around him the grass was dying. The horse collapsed, silently, and Menale's breath grew warm.

The man waving the white flag was suddenly swallowed by a great burst of flame. Menale scooped up the white cloth, and began to approach the hordes of Flamarites, waving the white flag in smooth sweeps, fire sparking about it, to make it shine with light.

Perhaps their tide would turn, if truly it was Mandolin they sought, but vengeance rarely bowed to reason.

Who Would Believe Winter?

Nemea's High Hall



"Oh to the spider there is nothing beyond the web, and for too long I was so happy in mine." The goddess danced about her hall, gliding between the pillars which held up the crown of the mountain. Almost humming.

Why was it she felt so alive again? Perhaps preserving Murali, that sympathy she had however long ago was weakness. It had grown so dark in her hall as of late, and all the light sprung forth from the Hearthfire. It was not natural to cling so closely, now she stepped back from the warmth to walk spritely through the forest of columns

"It was not right for the goddess of Gossip to hold her tongue. However many thousands of years ago I tried. What came of it? An ungrateful goddess! The aeons slipped by and I felt them like a mortal. But now, oh now there is sweetness on my breath, and power fills me! Surely it is my power that has told all the nations of the world of the revolution, knowing even before the Dendapim, who heard only a man shot a horse in a field!"

She filled the vaulting halls with her laughter, sprinting to the edges of the mountain, hanging over the cliffside by a draped cloth as thin as mist. She felt, now, the warmth of a new fire.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby almostinsane on Sun Jan 15, 2012 8:03 pm

A Chance at Peace


To be honest, the port that they pulled into looked be in turmoil. People were panicking, trying to pack as much of their stuff as possible into a boat or ship and the customs officers were nowhere to be found. Themis herself stepped out of the ship with a frown before ordering a sailor to deliver a message.

"Tell the Avatar of Nemea or Menale or whoever is in charge at the moment that the Ambassador of the Avuvian Confederation is here, as well as Judges of the Reich. Tell them it is time to negotiate peace if the Dendapaim do not wish for their country to become a warzone," she ordered him strictly as she herself stepped towards the governmental district of the city along with her Honor Guard.



The invasion of the orcs was sudden and came without warning. That the orcs had a navy was never expected even by the most paranoid strategist. Truthfully, to say the orc navy was pitiful would be a gross understatement. The ships were ramshackle, barely armed, and seemed to vary from another as though they had commandeered random merchant vessels and constructed the rest with driftwood. If one considered the orcs' nature, one would come to the conclusion that this is indeed the case. Nonetheless, the orc horde had come at precisely the worst possible time, as if they knew that much of the Avuvian navy had either set sail to meet the strange metallic ships of the judges, were guarding trade routes, or engaging pirates abroad. Nonetheless, the coasts of the Avuvian Confederation was far from unguarded. Small as the number of Juktan ships were, they were still the most advanced ships in the known world and more than a match for any navy.

Of course, this was all fine and good for an enemy that wished to fight upon the sea or preserve their own lives for that matter. The orcs were an endless horde rushing the coasts that Juktkas watched over. When the full extent of the horde was realized, the Avuvians knew that they could not keep them from landing. Killing them at sea was still their best chance. With the Avuvian honor the soldiers of Jukta were known for, enough men to crew half the fleet that remained in the military city stepped forward to sail their ships into one last battle in order to take as many orcs with them as possible.

Truthfully, a tan man, hair half black, half white mused, the whole fleet, such as it was, would have sailed into battle if he had asked, but the port needed to protected. As guarded as it was by ballistaes and Avuvian fire, it would be foolish to leave it open for the orcs. For now, the city had a standing army of 20,000 men plus a few thousand militiamen and still, the orcs' numbers dwarfed them by at least 3 to 1 at best. Other estimates reached up to 10 to 1, but he had not lost his composure. They had enough men to stave off the horde long enough for reinforcements to arrive from the other Avuvian city-states. Already, he had archers and crossbowmen, standard military and militia, stationed along the walls with infantry guarding them should the orcs manage to scale the walls. The rest of his men were either at the gates or patrolling the city to root out any saboteurs or trickery, though he doubted the orcs could employ such methods. Still, he did not earn his position by underestimating his foes. As for the possibility of the orcs attempting to move through the sewers, the mages had a surprise for any enemy foolish enough to attempt to move through water to fight the Lords of the Sea.

"General Titus! Sir! The orcs are signaling for a parley," a messenger exclaimed, total shock evident in his young face. Titus looked thoughtful, gazing out upon the battlefield from his position on the wall.

"Did they, now? Well, let's see what they want," he mused, signaling for the gates to open as he began to step down a stairwell leading through the tower and onto the ground, accompanied by ten men from his honor guard.

"But, sir? What if it's a trap?" the messenger objected as they made their way to the gatehouse. The general grimaced impatiently.

"It would make their leader look weak and afraid. Dismissed, boy," he told him. As small as the party from Jukta was, Titus was proud to see that they still looked to be an imposing force. Clad from head to toe with silvery chainmail and plate armor and wearing blue, silver, and white livery with sharp spears and shields bearing the symbol of Jukta, a sword crossed with a light green palm branch, the crude armor of the orcs looked laughable in comparison.

"I am General Titus Aurelius, Head of the Juktan Military Academy and General of its Garrison. You are on the sovereign soil of Jukta, a member state of the Avuvian Confederation. Your armed presence host is seen as an act of war, but I am giving you one chance: Retreat to the holes you were spawned from or be utterly destroyed."

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thepyromaker on Mon Jan 16, 2012 10:13 pm

The God of Change and Freedom
The Place In Between
Divine Realm


In the darkness he floated. There was nothing here and would never be anything here, unless a god decided to fill it. Similar to a blank canvas the nothingness, or the Place In Between as some Gods called it, are the pockets of the God Realm that had yet to be filled. "There is always space for the new and undiscovered." The God of Change and Freedom, or usually known as Hallick, said aloud to the nothingness. In response to his words, a spark appeared in front of him. Its brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows expanding and illuminating the surrounding darkness. The flame stirred in Hallick a feeling of nostalgia, of a yearning back to the biggest change in the universe, the first creation. He was always amazed at the things he or any God could accomplish with just their will. The changes they initiate at anytime could forever alter the very meaning of anything. They are beings of change are as such should do so whenever possible, yet there were those of his kin that did not share such a thought. Most where content to sit by and make sure their rule flourished and prospered.

Hallick would not abide by such notions. The very thought of always being the same entity filled him with a jittery feeling that could closely associated with hearing nails on a chalkboard. That notion is what has continuously drove him toward his ultimate goal, and was his very reason for sitting in the Place In Between. He swept away such contemplations by focusing back onto the spark. It was not the first time he had though such ideas, and it would not be the last. He had started counting how many times he had brought himself to his final conclusion. Hallick could only assume a large number, but remembering the number or when the counting had started proved to be lost. Maybe he had never started to count in the first place; it was always so hard to remember clearly.

The spark began to dwindle in the darkness, the initial power of its creation had run its course. It became so dim that it could have been mistaken as an after image burned into the retinas of an eye. The first life to this area was about to be gone, but then a candle formed up under it. The candle was nothing more than a lump of wax with a crude looking wick sticking out of the top. The tip of the wick gave the spark new life as fed and grew into a full flame. It's larger aura illuminated more of the darkness revealing a large table. Whenever Hallick created something in the Gods Realm it felt like a curtain was being lifted, almost that he had no hand in creating the object before him, but only revealing them to this plane of existence. "Chicken or egg." He spoke out again. A small chuckle escaped his mouth and was reminded of a mortal who had come up with that idea in his limited lifetime, yet the answer still eluded himself, a God.

The scent of the burning wax finally reached him. Its charred fumes giving a welcomed contrast to that of the nothingness before. Two more lights appeared on different ends of the table, one was blue and a candle with find gold etchings appeared under it giving life. The third light gave off a hue of green and was in the middle of a very simple looking brass lantern. The new lights revealed the medium room upon which everything resided. The walls were in the shape of a circle; its walls where entirely made of dirt. No pictures, windows, or doors possessed any space upon their earthy surface. The table was made out of clear glass its perfect finish almost made it invisible; except for the small glints of light from the candles. Around the table appeared chairs or all walks of life. There were: wooden chairs, stools, ivory thrones, gold stumps, and a whole hodge podge of others. Hallick was sitting on a block of ice.

The room complete, Hallick began to call those he wanted at the meeting. Gods who could see at least some of his point of view and not the narrowed minded. He sent out through the link they all shared, useful for needed contact. Most Gods used their voice to call out and proclaim their intentions, but Hallick did not want to give any preconceptions towards his meeting. Instead, he sent out a simple pull. It was nothing much; it was something similar to a tug at the hand, an itch on the back, or a minor taste in the mouth. Ignorable but enough to garner attention; this tug was sent out to those he wanted to treat with, they would know who sent it and where he was.

Myami, Selene, Tamonis, Oham, Anarchae, and Asiysia where those that felt the pull.

Hallick sat on his slowly melting block of ice. His form was of a middle aged male, shaggy unkempt brown hair and a clean shaven face, outlined his face with his deep brown eyes. He wore simple brown leather garb, not armor, and a gauntlet on each of his hands. On top of his left gauntlet a silver metal plate with a black pearl adorned it, and on his right a gold metal plate with a white gem. His bare feet dug into the cool dirt floor, as he waited.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Ersatz Creed on Thu Jan 19, 2012 9:06 pm

The Rise of the Reich
The Alumni Assassins

We work in the shadows, so that their may be light


There was a gathering of people, a party if you will, in honor of the beloved ‘Lady.’. This ‘Lady’ was adored by all the Denpadim, some might even say they worshipped her. At the party, among the star struck fanatics and drooling admirers, there were they who did not feel any loyalty to this woman.

By killing one, we save thousands



They were obvious, their faces obscured by hoods and their weapons not even hidden but the others were too busy basking in the beauty of their Lady to notice any treachery. Not yet anyway. Then from the crowd, a man began to choke, or so it seemed. The wine he drunk had been poisoned, and so he coughed, violently, and then he coughed blood. Others began to suffer the same fate.

By killing many, we ensure the safety of the Reich


Then, just as the panic began, a single gun shot rang throughout the city, and it hit it’s mark. The Lady had been shot. There was no time to confirm whether she had been killed or not, for it truly did not matter if she had been. The very fact that they, the Alumni, dared to attempt to kill the Lady, was sufficient to carry the message to all those who worshipped Nemea.

“No compromise! No Peace! No Mercy!”.

They, the Alumni, drew their weapons and began to slaughter those who came to adore the Lady.

Long Live the Empress, Long Live the Empire


It is Man‘s ignorance, that causes war



The trumpets sounded another battle, one that was unexpected. There was no time to rest, to celebrate, to mourn. Alyss looked at them, their new foe, and she could not recognize the banner. No one could. Who were these men, who came to crush the Flamarite Rebels? Why did they come? Did they promote the injustice of slavery? Were they being payed by the Denpadim, or the Maskmen, to come and interfere in matters that did not have a damn thing to do with them? What had Flamar done to them to deserve such hatred?

Alyss became angry. Angry because she did not comprehend why these fools wished to kill them, without considering why they rebelled, what the Denpadim were doing to them. All of Flamar, felt as she did. The world had no right to call them savages, when Flamar had kept to themselves most of their existence, only going to war when their brother Justicair was threatened. It was not just to raise blade against them, simply because of how they worshipped their Goddess.


“These men are not warriors! To attack us, after a battle, permitting their allies, if they are aligned to them, to die?! Cowards! All of them!”.

One of the clan leaders shouted as he aided his kinsmen stand up.

“We cannot flee, we will not outrun them in this condition and the men are in no fighting condition. They Denpadim may not have killed many but they have exhausted our men and ruined our armament
”.

Another said.

“We cannot win against fresh troops
Alyss what do we do?”.


Alyss was at the time listening to the voice of the out worlder, or spirit, that spoke to her and she could not hear the voices of her officers. The spirit gave her chills, which was truly saying something because not many things gave a Flamarite chills. Still, she considered it
 She could win the battle, do Murali’s will, and not sacrifice soo many of her men.

Then another voice was heard, one coming not from Alyss’s head or from a spirit


“Mandolin, have you lost your faith in your Goddess Empress?”.

I will end what you started



Murali backed away from Mask, “You are right, Mask. I must and will be strong.”.

The room around them changed into one that Mask would know well. The stained glass windows were replaced with portraits of the past avatars of Murali. There was no source of light, the room simply was lit, and in the center was a table made purely of glass but it was so beautiful and radiating with light one would have thought it was made of Diamonds. The Goddess Empress stood over this table, looking down and if Mask would looked over her shoulder he would see that in the glass one could see the mortal world. Slowly the sight changed to Madelina, who was on her way to Manchester.

“The time has come, my servant, go forth and fulfill your destiny
”.

With that, Madelina fainted, causing the entire company of Judges to halt and tend to her.

“Do not fear, my creation, she is fine. Her spirit must go first, so her body can follow
”.

The Judges, who all turned to look at the sun when they heard Murali’s voice, nodded and picked Madelina up. They then, in perfect unison, took a step forward and did a 180 pivot turn. They went a little ways back, and awaited for the body to follow the spirit.

The spirit must go



It was actually a very frightening feeling

To have one’s spirit taken out of your body. Madelina was not fearful, because it had happened before and so she knew what was happening. (she also did not fear Crypt’s Realm, despite the horrific tales) For a short eternity she saw nothing, felt nothing, and required nothing. Then, after what was possibly but two minutes, she could see and hear. Below her she saw the battlefield where the Flamarites had fought the Denpadim and were now to fight yet another foe. She could see what pitiful state they were in, the Denpadim may had not have numbers but they still managed to render the Flamarites combat ineffective.

Their enemy, she recognized. Madelina had seen many things when looking down from the heavens the last time she was to go to the Final Sanctum for all those ages. But seeing and knowing was different. She did recognize those men, but she did not know their country by name. Still this was enough to know these foreigners in foreign soil had no business being there, unless they held allegiance to the Denpadim.

Regardless of Flamar’s condition, it was odd that they had not charged. The Flamarites were proud and even honorable warriors, least they were when she reigned as Empress. Had they forgotten themselves?

“Mandolin, have you lost faith in your Goddess?”.

So the body can follow



Another thing to know is that when the Spirit and the Body were reunited, it was not very noticeable for when one is but Spirit, their spirit form seems to look like their body, if only to oneself. So when Madelina was joined back to her Body (which occurred in an instant) she could not have known until she began to fall.

The fall made her release, that she was very high up and this caused her to panic. She may have been immortal, but she still felt pain. Fortunately she regained her calm just in time to use her Voice.

“Seltur birk kax!”

Suddenly she did not fall down like a fallen angel who's wings had been clipped, but she instead glided down gently and slowly. Despite this some Flamarites (who were not too bloodied or wounded) caught Madelina and placed her on solid ground Fate had her land, of course, in the center of the entire Flamarite Army. (atop of some dead Denpadim Soldiers).
Alyss, stepped on many toes and shoved aside those who did not move aside, just so she may have a look at Madelina's.

The High Witch examined the Empress of the Reich rather closely, encircling her and then she grabbed a dagger and cut Madelina's hand. Madelina flinched a little at this and looked away while Alyss licked the blood off the blade. (avatar or not, cannibalism and drinking blood still made Madelina sick to her stomach)

Alyss, after doing all this, dropped the dagger and held back tears. "I am your instrument, my SouverÀn of Flamar.". Alyss fell to her knees and the rest of Flamar soon followed suit. The sun seemed to shine brighter now and the disheartened Flamarites were no longer worried about defeat. They had their, Empress, their SouverÀn. Murali's will was being done and if Murali wished them all to die, so be it.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Higurashi on Fri Jan 20, 2012 7:21 pm

To destroy one's Foes
Imperios's Realm

Imperios nodded at the elder God Oham. He took on a stoic pose for a moment, rolling the different propositions in his mind. What Oham offered was benefit of a great kind. Experienced and exotic warriors would vastly increase his army's effectiveness. On the other hand, he would sacrifice his freedom to talk directly to his followers, and interact with them. It was quite a conundrum. Both sides had their benefits, and both had con's. However, the loss of the favor of yet another god, much more the God of War, would decrease his people's effectiveness. Continuing to think, the God began to pace. It would also decrease his effectiveness to lose Lahar. Finally, he came to a conclusion.

"I have decided," he said. "I will go for the middle option. My people need me to participate in battles. That much you must admit Oham. It would be unfitting for a God to abandom their people to chance. So, I propose this. If any other God acts in a battle, I will re-act with the same degree of force. If that means wiping out their entire army because they did so to mine, that will have to be acceptable. Otherwise, I will restrain myself to the normal degree of blessings. As for me being an equal, we each have our own roles Lahar. Your logic must see that each God will put his role before others, the God of War included. So, in this way, I try to satisfy you both."

The God's attention was then distracted. Turning to one of his viewing aparatus's, he zoomed in on the army currently fighting the Flamarites. Great fear was being generated from the gathered Imperials, as if something terrible had just happened. Focusing on the Flamarites, the God noticed a certain presence. Courage and ferocity seemed to radiate from this female, in a way only the chosen of the Gods could. From this, and her words, Imperios deduced that she was the Avatar of Murali. If he remembered correctly, the Avatar had not made herself known for nigh on three centuries. That she would awaken now was troubling.

Considering the options, Imperios acted as carefully as he could. He sent out a mental message to Typhos warning of the impending danger. The General was frightened, as were his men, but Imperios gave the go ahead to fufill the promise formerly made should just such an occasion occur. From the army three champions of the Imperium were selected. They were to lead the advance, right at the tip of each spear. For their courage, they would be blessed with great speed, agility, and endurance for the coming battle. The Champion Trio's names were: Arcus, Merzo, and Dintus. Each of them already excelled in combat, and all had chosen to serve longer then their required term of military service.

Imperios then devoted a portion of himself to watch the battle, while returning to the meeting of the Gods.

Playing with Chance

Anarchae was disappointed to say the least when she was somewhat ignored. She soon found that this sadness was misplaced. For it seemed that while those gathered no longer wanted her help, she suspected that they would soon need it. "Remember..." she whispered to Alyss. "I stand waiting." The Goddess didn't have any other buisness to attend to, so, she heeded the call of the God of Choices. While this may not have been his exact title, she called him as such. This was simply because in here eyes, Chance, was merely a choice. Throw the die? Fold? Put all the chips in? All of these were choices chance dictated.

So, departing from the world of men, Anarchae headed towards the other God's realm. Appearing in that place, she looked around. It was fairly simple, but complex at the same time. Perhaps not even someone insane, such as Hallow, would understand it.

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Re: Gods; A New Age

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thorait on Sat Jan 21, 2012 1:14 pm

Imperios realm
Lahar said his words calmly ”I accept.” The god of Logic looked to Oham and then back to Imperios with his normal calm behavior. This piece of Lahar observed both gods but he really just looked to Oham, his eye’s were on the god of war as he spoke [i]”I do ask for a clarification, I will keep aiding you if you accept Oham's aid I can understand you thought I would be lost if you accepted but I do not feel emotion such as anger so I wouldn’t be insulted or increase consideration of leaving this campaign.” He wasn’t going to tell Imperios that he was sending his own force to Denpadim to steal a part of the bone from three fighting dogs but the god of authority wouldn’t have a reason to mind it Lahar wasn’t going to conquer the entire land only a small part in the south for later use he couldn’t hold the Denpadim head city but if everything worked out then it would go without much fighting. He send 2 percent of him to go too Guardian and place the needed things in his head and move the furniture around a bit so he would act as was required.

The seas
Guardian watched the fleet of small agile ships that were quicker than most others, the Avuvians where of course much faster in there excellent almost legendary ships and there powerful navy but Remaire had fast ships nonetheless it wasn’t important they would reach the most eastern shore of Denpadim in a short time but there were of course some complications going on with this task. Why were they ignoring a battle going on in the country that had obtained so much attention because it had made the Denpadim so weak to become a weak target for everybody? Guardian was sure Lahar had his reasons but what if the Flamar would win wile they where around doing whatever Lahar had planned it would mean complete destruction if the Flamar knew with who they were dealing with or at least heavu losses, still it wasn’t his place to judge was it?
Last edited by Thorait on Tue Jan 24, 2012 9:21 am, edited 1 time in total.

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