Hazarmaveth's Story

Whisps of dark aether gather and shimmer, swirling to form a gateway. The unmistakably calm symphony of whispers are the tell tale signs that it is from Shalom, the resting place of the dead. A place much unlike its implications to be actually quite... hospitable.

The shadowy form of Hazarmaveth begins to manifest from the portal, hunched and humble, much unlike the more brightly colored gods he bears no grandeur in his entrance as the portal simply closes behind him. He stands before Lycaon and makes a gesture that can only be interpreted as a polite bow.

"An honor you would summon one so lowly such as I," he speaks softly, his voice is deep yet almost as a whisper. "I would say it were a pleasure, but I know the news not to be so."

He grows quiet momentarily, looking around at all who are currently present, politely nodding to each one. Not everyone was yet present so he stood back to wait patiently. He then turns his attention to Serena, fixating his gaze yet not turning to face her directly.

"It would appear Karvana continues to challenge my absentee record," He says, a slight hint of bemusement in his tone. "The usual plots and reveling in chaos I would presume?"

Lycaon sat on his silver throne as one by one his fellow deities entered the room filling the massive hall. The king tried to greet each of his guests as they arrived in his halls. "I"m glad you can come to lend us your wisdom." he said to Kurn as he entered. As Serena described her master's absence Lycaon gave an audible sigh of annoyance. He had a feeling that the mother would send one of her underlings to take her place. For once He had hoped that she would of neglected to send anyone at all. Despite his disdain for her master he greeted Serena courteously. He continued to greet each god as they arrived. When the god of death came before Lycaon with his formalities the king chuckled at his comment regarding Karvana and responded by saying, "Your not so lowly as you think yourself friend. If more of us were like you we'd have a far more peaceful world." When the last of his guests as of the moment entered with her objections Lycaon was ready to get angry but quickly held himself back when he noticed the way she looked at Entorios. He had always found the younger gods amusing and was rather curious about what would become of the two younger gods.

"Brothers and sisters, not all of our ranks have yet to gather here but I feel that our business is urgent and we can begin our discussion now and let the others catch up if and when they get here." the king said as he rose from his throne and paced through the room as he spoke. "As you all know we were only able to defeat our predecessors by using the miraculous metal known as adamant. It is the one thing that we are incapable of creating and it is said to be the bones of the fallen primordial gods themselves. As time has gone on we have used our precious supply for various purposes ranging from binding a few of our own numbers over the year to forging weapons of incredible power." As he made his last comment he gestured to his spear, one of the few adamant weapons. "Our stores of adamant are almost completely empty. If we were ever to have an internal threat we would have no means to bind them and will instead wage war against each other forever with no means of permanently defeating the other since we would both be immortal. This unsolvable conflict will accomplish nothing save the destruction of countless lesser lives." As he made this last comment he looked toward Serena, the only non-god in the room. "I have managed to find a rather large vain of the stuff deep within the Ulmish mountains. Anywhere else and it would easily be ours; however, Ulm is one of the few gods not part of this court and I fear that if he were to discover what lies in his lands than it would be vary difficult for us to acquire it without severe casualties and the hatred of the race of giants for the rest of eternity. I have gathered you all here to discuss a means of acquiring this adamant."

Serena shrugged at the God of 'Death', the jest not really worth commenting on. Her Mother did tend to keep to herself and away from the meetings of the Gods, and she wasn't sure if she had ever seen the Mother attend one of them, but then, she did seem to like to keep to herself very rarely going to another God's realm, and it has been even longer since the Mother last stepped foot on the mortal realms. Her silence wouldn't be noteworthy as it was quickly devoured by the various appearances from the other deities and many of them had their own antics to further draw the attention away from her, but then, as the only mortal among gods, did she truly want attention?

She turned her head to face the King of the Gods as he begun his speech, a fairly standard one although she wasn't sure why he looked her when speaking of the mortal races. Personally, she found an eternal war between Gods and Mortals that brought about the extinction of numerous races as rather exciting. She didn't need to ponder on it to quickly figure out her Mother's opinion would closely match her own. This discussion wouldn't require her input much, if at all, but it was her duty to remain there and listen to it in order to give the important information to her Mother.

The discussion died before it even began as the God of Corruption, Vescteseg, made his entrance smashing the floor and making Serena grip a nearby wall as the earth trembled beneath her feet. No doubt she was the only one to notice as the only 'lesser life' in the room. As the God of Corruption and the King of the Gods exchanged words, Serena hazarded that this meeting may just be interesting after all, it was rare for Vescteseg to come to these meetings, akin to how it was for Hazarmaveth and her Mother. The tension was broken by the arrival of Selyse, the Klethi waved Vescteseg to come over to 'plot', and, of course, the God of Boredom gave a cryptic message about getting a mortal to do it. He just couldn't resist it, Serena idly wondered if it was some sort of... compulsion.

Crossing her arms, Serena continued to watch the discussion in her adopted silence, her sharp green eyes moving from deity to deity within the silver hall.

After listening to Kurn speak, Aeristhatia twirled Myrelette thoughtfully until it turned from a glass to a scepter once again. It seemed like an excellent plan, considering mortals were very....disposable to the gods. However, Ulm would most likely take advantage of that As well.

As one of the younger Gods, Aeristhatia felt it improper to speak now on such a matter. However, as you know, She is anything but proper and so in her mind it seemed perfect to logical to give her imput.

"Why don't we give this mortal a companion to help them on their journey, Lycaon? An animal, perhaps? I'd offer a platypus, but I render that to be somewhat unhelpful to our hero. Maybe one of you gods have an idea?"

Feeling the earth quake with Vescteseg's entrance, she stepped back in line, muttering something under her breath with disgust and rolling her eyes. Of course this troglodyte of a God had to come prancing into the meeting like this. Hearing Lycaon's didsain for him, she couldn't help but chuckle, which she instantly regretted. She hoped Vescteseg hadn't heard it...

At the mention of adamant he grasped Quell tightly, he dreaded an upturn in his business, and yet he finds an infuriating part of himself captivated by its shine. As he pondered over this on what to say, Vescteseg made his dramatic entrance.

He takes some steps back, he wished not to create an incident despite having more than a few misgivings with the God of Corruption. He has made his job particularly difficult with all those souls that can no longer find peace. Undeath to him was something beyond abominable.

"Always have to make your entrances the most... extravagant." He says casually not to give away his annoyance. "Let us keep this at least marginally civil."

He stepped back again and listened to the ideas bouncing back and forth, the plots and forming, he started realizing that "civil" was a very unlikely outcome. Then he heard the idea of Kurn's of using a mortal. The idea worries him, manipulating any sapient being worries him, the fragility of life regardless of its form being a matter he is beyond an expert in.

"Would we choose such a special transient, or would they choose us?" He questions Kurn, doing his best to stifle his concerns.

Vescteseg stood tall as Lycaon civilly berated him for his little display, but Vescteseg could not be bothered to care. He crossed his arms and said "Aye brother, then it will have caught up with you!" chuckling at his little bit of wit, he moved more to the edge of the room, standing seperate from the other gods. A voice calling his name caught his attention however, and he moved towards she who had called him: Klethi, the goddess of Chance. Grimacing at her choice of praising, his attention was piqued by a seeming willingness to work with him. Moving towards her, he was interrupted by the lackluster god of enlightenment Kurn, who prattled on about sending a mortal of all things to secure the adamant veins. Now of all things, Vescteseg did not want Lycaon renewing his stockpile of Adamant, for that would mean he would be putting his neck under a sword of Damocles. Vescteseg would have to strike first. All these thoughts raced through his mind, and inside he was cursing virulently.

Then once more, another one of the weaker gods bothered him. This time it was that pathetic godling Hazarmaveth, bleating about his entrance and keeping things civil. Turning towards him his eyes glowed with purple fire, and he said in a voice that sounded like a pleasant enough male baritone, but was wreathed in nastiness, "Civil? Why Dear Hazarmaveth I simply OOZE civility. It is others who offend me. Whining to our King Lycaon about all the souls 'trapped' in the Corruption when you think I'm not paying attention. You can come and try and collect them if you dare. You will find my strength is much grown."

And all the while the discussion was going on. Thus he decided to intrude. "Brothers, Sisters! I have a solution. We must make Ulm a trade! Within my realm there is a great lake of lava, created by the great Titan. However, it was taken as my land expanded. I can offer this land back to him, with a corridor leading back to his mountains if he grants us rights to the adamant. However, seeing as I will be sacrificing a not so small portion of territory I demand the right to half the Adamant." Thus speaking, he crossed his arms and set his stance to await the others' responses.

Kurn, God of Enlightenment

Kurn listened to the new ideas sprouting from the deities present. Each one added something new into the creative discussion they were all having. The plan was growing, and so far it seemed like it might succeed with a bit of luck. The champions they were discussing being chosen were well qualified for the task, but than Vescteseg comes in with a completely new plan. Kurn liked this idea of his despite the risks. If it failed than Ulm would know about the adamant and they would have nothing. Still, it was a peaceful solution that benefited everyone, and that is what Kurn wanted most of all.

Kurn raised his hand up near his shoulder to signal he was about to speak. "I second Vescteseg's idea. However I suggest being subtle about the offer of trade. Let Ulm offer the Adamant on his own, or perhaps if he is stuck on a counter offer mention it in passing." Kurn felt one of his followers offering him something at his temple, and he kept one eye at the meeting so he could appear at his temple in a spectral form.

In Kurn's 'Temple of the Mind's Eye' there was a nomadic patron on his knees in front of a large mirror where one would lay offerings at it's base. The offering was a bowl of flowers in a variety of colors. A glowing outline of Kurn appeared in the mirror and surprised the man making the offering. Kurn sucked the bowl of flowers into the mirror and laid a blessing on the man in respect of his long journey, allowing the man to travel out of his body in his sleep for the rest of his life. His will now finished, Kurn's specter returned to his body and with it came the bowl of flowers which he now held in front of him.

Aeristhatia boredly watched Kern talk to the other Gods. She enjoyed Kurn, but he tended to get a little bit....bland sometimes. This gathering was becoming increasingly monotonous, and she wished it was over. She looked to Lycaon with a silent plea of suffering. Rolling her eyes she began playing with a lock of hair. "I might as well become the goddess of unnecessary pain If this keeps up." She muttered to herself. She knew fullwell how important this matter was, however it was hard for her limited attention span to comprehend. She attempted a subtle sigh to show her discontent, but it came out as a large "HHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGCCCCCCCHHHHHHHH". She was met with a handful of giggles from some of the other gods. She hated when they used her favorite things against her. It wasn't like they threw tarot cards at klethi when she was being annoying...

Hazarmaveth stood unphased by Vescteseg's bolstering and his challenge.

"Only because someone felt too proud to discuss the matter," Hazarmaveth said somberly, his eyes giving off a ghostly blue haze. "And do not confuse a choice of non-violence as synonymous with weakness, perhaps you will learn that eventually, perhaps after this skirmish."

His staff Quell shakes in his hand, he was losing his composure and he did not like it. He bows his head politely and turns away in an effort to avert his thoughts and evade making matters worse. This was one of the few things that worried him, to lose himself to anger, giving in to wrath. This was one important reason behind his choice of solitude.

He listened to the proceeding plans, wincing at Vescteseg wanting half of the adamant for himself in exchange for some of his land but he says nothing. He wanted a hand in this now, however, he had hardly any worshipers, most of which were hardly warriors. His only servants being the Seekers, souls of those who's lives were cut too short in his eyes remade in new form. Then something hit him, other than Kelthi's sharp shrill voice.

"Ah, I... may have a suggestion," he says carefully as he steps forward, realizing how bizarre it was for him to speak out so much, let alone put a mortal on the pedestal.

He holds out a hand, aether warping into a figure of a man of modest stature and moderate build throwing knives at a target pinned to a tree. His attire a far-from-lavish mess of cloth forming a brown and gray cloak, his face partially obscured, only his wild green eyes and his unkempt black hair show. The sleeve of his arm was limp, there was no arm there to fill it, what is visible of his skin is dark, scars mar it here and there. The man looked less a hero and more a bandit or a beggar, but there was something strange about him. The target was the symbol of a god but hard to make out through the viewing portal.

"His name is Winston Borne, he has been before me many times, near death, he has no extraordinary skills, a very minor grasp on magic, and no respect for gods," He says so plainly making no efforts to elevate this mortal, "either the luckiest transient or cursed strongly upon birth, he's been denied death fourteen times in his entire life, first time being when his mother was murdered by raiders."

Hazarmaveth closed the view port and paced back and forth, he was not done with this sudden bizarre display. He twirls Quell proudly despite the amount of unheroic traits he's listing off. If this were a sales pitch he'd already have lost the business.

"He's not of noble birth, he's crude, and tell not Karvana this but also an illegitimate halfbreed, though I suppose the more bestial traits didn't show so well, few want him around, not even he wants himself." Hazarmaveth stamps his staff down then waves a finger around, a but coming to his downhill speech. "He's clever though, and fearless, surviving alone has given him excellent instincts and he's compensated well for his handicaps as you could see."

Klethi rolled her eyes with an unimpressed smile at Hazarmaveth. "That is your hero? While I can always appreciate an oversold introduction, I hardly think his 'suffering' is his biggest selling point. Don't be so melodramatic. Fenris has survived tenfold risks of death, and has met the destruction and ruination of his family and people with unshakable grace. Lycaon, if we're drawing straws I'd like to ask each contestant draw with as many hands as he has available. After all climbing and other ambidextrous activities should be expected." She didn't mean to hurt the other god's feelings, but she did mean to insult him and his choice. Why not? If both their mortals had to work together it would be all the more interesting to place a few wagers on the successes of the one-armed bandit and her elf. "Hazarmaveth, how would thrown knives ever hope to fell the servants of Ulm?" she asked with grating inflection. "You all know how I value a good underdog story but I won't see my mortal's time wasted because every Tim, Tom, and Terry wants to throw their own dog into this fight. Lycaon I implore you weigh your choice of mortals carefully. Being fearless doesn't stop a warhammer, and being clever doesn't help you climb or dig when down an appendage. His survival is as due to his instincts as how sorry I felt for making his circumstances so... inopportune."

Hazarmaveth bursts forth in laughter, his head held up.

"Oh I too can enjoy a good gamble, Klethi," he says with uncharacteristic joviality. "I thought you of all of us would enjoy a real wildcard."

He chuckles slightly, calming down some from his sudden outburst returning to his hunched visage.

"But in all seriousness, he's managed to live without a god's blessing, I swear I've had no hand on his chances," He says looking to Lycaon. "Self made and surviving through adapting to new situations, indomitable will, and stubbornness."

He glances over to Klethi.

"And besides, if Ulm knew this Elf boy was working under you, who do you think he'd be more compelled to squash?"

Serena watched with disguised interest as the deities began pitching their various champions and heroes for this 'quest'. Even Klethi which surprised her, Serena was unaware of the Goddess having any such champions, perhaps it was just a mortal she doted on? The God-King, of course, elected to send his daughter, a demi-god. Beings Serena never had much respect for, power should be earned, clawed for, killed for. Beings born with power handed to them weakened them, a person should be beaten, burned and tempered like a fine blade. If they broke, they should be discarded as worthless and flawed never to be thought of again.

When the God-King turned to her, Serena blinked in surprise never expecting for him to desire a member of the Mother's Exalted to join in this quest which is why she never intended to offer. She pondered the situation, her mind trying to wrap around the request, she wasn't sure if this was worthy of the Mother sending an Exalted, a mortal champion? Perhaps, but then, her Mother did like to surprise her by doing things counter to her expectations. Sometimes, Serena was sure she did so purely for the sake of spiting her ideals.

Thankfully, she was given a retrieve from answering by the God of Corruption offering a trade. Serena doubted the value in the offer, and even more in should the Titan be fool enough to agree to it. She, herself, would not trust the deity to keep his word as there was nothing stopping him from simply retaking the land once he had his, outrageously high, demand of Adamant were met. But that would likely spark a war, one between Giants and the creatures of Corruption which would be beyond amusing to witness, and if she were so lucky, get to bloody her own hands it, "As speaker for the Mother, I also support the idea of a trade." She also would advise a negotiation on the amount of Adamant being given, but that wasn't her place.

The God of 'Deaths' champion captured her attention in a vice. A halfbreed? While they were not uncommon, Beastmen raiders tended to get their passions up and slaves were often taken, but to see an adult halfbreed that wasn't a wretched creature was rare. The beastmen tended to look down upon them as weak for their human blood, they were often social outcast left ot die on the fringes, if they were born to a human mother away from the tribe, they were often killed or left in the forest. This halfbreed didn't have the more... distinguished characteristics, but Serena knew her Mother would be amused greatly by his existence and participation in the quest... But Klethi was opposed to it, and Serena could not find fault in her reasoning.

Serena stepped forward bowing slightly, "I second Lord Hazramaveth's.... hero. If accepted into the party, God-King, I, on behalf of the Mother, pledge she will also send a member to join be it Exalted or Mortal Champion."

Klethi laughed a short, two-syllable laugh preceded by a snort. "I do enjoy a good wild card. I am the goddess of gambling, for Lycaon's sake. Either way you sound oddly eager to jump at the challenge. Has this mortal been your gimped ace-in-the-hole for some time now? It's rare anyone here is more eager to throw the actors into the tragedy than me or Vescetesg. Either way I'd gladly see your challenge, Hazarmaveth, and whatever you are willing to risk I can return in spades. I say that Fenris will himself slay Uln without need for your half-man or anyone else who is lucky enough to accompany him. As I am not the only one excited for the prospect of a grand adventuring party I will not ask that the rest of you restrain your choices, but I wish to make it clear to everyone present that whoever and whatever they send is wholly superfluous. If your champion can prove-beyond a reasonable doubt-to be a necessary companion for this expedition, I will-"
Serena took her interest. "You second the trade?" She narrowed her eyes and calculated, her fingers again twitching as if marking an invisible paper. Unlike the other gods she had on desire to hide her thoughts. "You have much to benefit when suffering and war brings you amusement. That is why I would also consent to the trade. I appreciate your callousness; it stops this world from growing dull." She smiled. Klethi could make friends with anyone. Nothing was too abhorrent, repulsive, or vile for Klethi to dip her fingers in. She let anything and everything attempt to satiate her thirst for entertainment. "It would be more interesting if you proved less predictable." Knowing everyone's angle was her business. Guessing right was convenient, but even if she thought there was a positive outcome Serena wanted, being able to be wrong was an important part of the joy of guessing. That's why she always chose such high stakes-which brought her attention back to the robed aethriate.
"If Fenris is unable to succeed independently, I will see the souls you want so determinedly rendered unto you." That was perfect, absolutely perfect: Fenris would defeat Ulm, secure the adamant, she would buy the souls from Vescetesg herself and pit Hazarmaveth against him. Anyone who challenged her would face the empowered Death God and-
Klethi's fingers twitched more; she closed her eyes and thought. What would she do with the adamant? If she dispensed it evenly, their would either be uneasy peace of undecidable war. If she gave it to the minor gods, there could be a powershift. If she kept it for herself she could decide any outcome she wanted. If she gave it to mortals that would be an even more climatic event. Or she could sit on it, fake Fenris's failure, secretly pay off Vescetesg for the souls who would undoubtedly use his new adamant to conquer, unknowingly brewing conflict with whomever she gave a much more substantial supply to resulting in his doom... I am thankful always for the almost palpable possibilities adamant generates just by having its name whispered.

Klethi became aware of the room again. The other gods knew of her slippery nature. She never acted maliciously, never with malice, never acted against another god because of a feud or hatred. The reasons for what she did were not charged with any emotion but excitement, and that was why she was scary. It was her complete disregard for the well being of others. She did not want to see anyone suffer, she wanted to see suffering. And crying and laughing and dying and living and romance and conquest and war and famine and plagues and sunshine and horses and elves and humans and titans and volcanic eruptions and cosmic annihilation.

Entorios for once decided to stay silent, watching the events before him unfold. As both plans were detailed and heroes suggested, his mind drifted for a while. Drifted to a similar quest a thousand years before. One of which many songs had been written about. A tale of five heroes who had quested against an ancient power to claim artifacts of incredible importance. So far they only had two possible. He also completely disregarded Vescteseg's plan out of rage, for the God of Corruption was kidnapping HIS people to experiment on. Drawing upon this outrage, he stepped forward.

"Brothers! Sisters!" His voice was a clarion call for silence, slashing through the hubbub of the gods assembled with the might of its sound "Hear me out. If success is to be had upon this quest then we must hark to the olden days. We must use the tale of the Quest for the Scepter of Yntos as our precedent." Thus he broke into song.

"Listen all ye who travel roads and visit inns
For I speak of the ones who came before ye, from ye
The Five of whom I speak were much like ye
Glortinyin, Elf skilled with word and bow
Teryn, Man skilled in the arts of war and woe
Ulyss, Woman whose healing hand ne'er failed
Nhilnos, The Beast, the Unlikely, whose death ye honor
And finally Retcher, the Man who led the Five"

And so he went on for near three quarters of an hour, his voice waxing and waning as he told of the five who stole into a vast fortress guarded by the fanatical cult of a long gone god, and took the scepter they defended in order to crown a new king of their lands to stop the bloodshed. Entorios's voice hit every note flawlessly and sometime through it a lyre appeared in his hands as he played.

And finally he finished. And thus he said "I suggest one of my followers, a Entorithi by the name of Lorenthos. He is able bodied, good with a sword, and is an outstanding musician." Then, bowing, he stepped back into the mass of Gods smiling.

Kurn, God of Enlightenment

As the planning seemed to reach it's apex, Kurn seemed to be pleased with the overall outcome. He saw that the meeting was soon at an end, so he moved a little ways away from the main group and wandered to the back corner of the room. Creating an orb of light he sent it into the corner of the room as it took physical form as a table of exotic foods with chairs around it. Kurn took one of the seats and grabbed some fruits as he ate for the fun of it. As a god he did not need to eat so it as just for the flavor that he even bothered putting food in his mouth.

His conciousness raced to several different places again, moving from place to place as it searched out several things of interest. His physical body kept eating without really having need be given the command to do so. Kurn's eyes if anyone noticed swam with rippling color across their surface as he was deep in thought at the table. He always had one ear on the discussion however, and kept track of what the current topic was.

Vescteseg rolled his eyes as the feeble god Entorios broke into song. A decision of this magnitude was being discussed and the fool sings? This, this is why Vescteseg needs to be lord. Then after the long winded thing finally finished the weak goddess of Mischief spoke, looking up at him and quivering in not a little fear. Vescteseg looked at her, and asked "What is the matter Aeristhatia? You seem a little... fearful. Is there something that the assembly here should know about? Hmm?" His voice rolled with distaste.

Striding back into the center of the room, he said "Comrades, I do not see why we should try to offend Ulm by sending heroes sneaking into his territory like criminals! Why, if any of you tried to do something of that sort I'd send back their head on a pike. Oh wait, I think I have" and with that he turned towards the crowd suddenly "We don't need a war with the Giants. That would end badly. For everyone involved, seeing as Ulm possesses the Adamant. We need to be cautious, and offer him things in return. Do you all understand what I'm saying. What you have suggested is tantamount to a declaration of war!"

As Vescteseg was about to continue his speech to convince them of his plan's worth, he felt it. Like a tingle across his whole body a being of immense power had stepped into the Corruption. His eyes widened for it was Ulm himself. Turning back to the Gods, he said "Ulm has crossed into my territory, I must depart." And with that he slammed his hands together causing a concussion of air to spread through the room, causing a new portal to open which he stepped through. He was transported right in front of the Titan.

Bowing deeply, he called out "Greetings O Titan. What brings you to my fair land?"

After Vescteseg left, there was an odd silence in the room. "Good riddance, you old [insert favorite curse word here]!" Said Aeristhatia, breaking the silence. "I suppose it may be a good idea to further discuss this predicament another time, Lycaon. It may help to let everyone for the better to think on it for a while." Closing her fan she glanced up at him. "Additionally, it would give us time to prepare our heroes." Stretching, she leaned against one of the silver columns, almost tripping in the proccess.

Aeristhatia popped her knuckles and looked around the room, attempting to read the other's expressions. Her face let out a quirky smile as her eyes landed on Entorios, softly humming. Her face felt hot as she averted her eyes to the sterling silver floor. She had never met the diety of love, but they seemed like a total [insert second favorite curse word here] if they though Aeristhatia would fall for the God of music. Aeristhatia was most likely going to remain single for the rest of her existence. After all, she really had nothing to offer besides her charisma, stunning good looks, wit, her all around perfection, her lack of all around imperfection, etc etc etc.


Ok maybe she was exaggerating a bit...

Snapping back into reality she listened to see what Lycaon would say, hoping he would consider her suggestion.

Kurn,God of Enlightenment

Now that the meeting was over Kurn let the table of food fade into nothing. He bowed to Lycaon and to everyone else before vanishing from the room.

Now in the mortal realm, Kurn's clothing has changed to a simple commoners tunic and belt with basic shoes. He kept his short white hair and youthful body as he stepped out onto the grass. Around him was a clear grassy hill overlooking a coastal town below in the valley to Kurn's north. He made his way on foot down into the town and pulled up the hood sown to his tunic up over his head. He quickly found his destination, a tavern called 'The Flying Fish'.

Inside this tavern Kurn sat in a corner and waited for the bar maiden to come take his order. He asked for a cup of tea and gave her more than enough money to cover it. There he relaxed for the next hour, enjoying the conversations and merriment in the tavern as he sipped at his tea and absorbed the attitude of those in the room.

Somewhere in the eastern section of the forest the halfbreed Winston Borne walks out and away, alone along an old path headed nowhere in particular, just... anywhere. On his shoulder his ferrety companion eats away at a dried piece of meat.

This aimless venture, however, is rudely interrupted. Out in the distance there appears to be an old man in a black robe being accusted by a group of large wild dogs. Winston looks out at it, squints his eyes and tries to move on.

"Strong devour the weak, Enyo, dog-eat-dog and all that," he says, Enyo unresponsively continues eating. "How the world works."

He continues walking, starting to pass by the scene, the man yells for help. Borne grunts and Enyo glances in the man's direction before returning to the food.

"And besides, in this world there ain't no heroes, just fools who stick their neck out only to lose their heads." He says, trying to pick up his pace some, he glances over at Enyo. "Cut it out, don't look at me like that. Ain't my fault, just how it is, y'know."

He stops in his tracks and looks back then rubs his chin.

"Smart girl, live people can pay better than lootin' their corpses," he says, as if responding to Enyo. "Ah, what the hell."

He turns and runs straight in the old man's direction, who is now backed against a tree. The wild dogs notice him, but only after he manages to punt the nearest one, the old man winces at this action. The wild dogs turn and begin to head in the opposite direction only for Borne to grab one by the tail.

"Young man, thank you but that won't be..." The old man says.

"Don't thank me yet, gotta make sure the pack don't regroup later." Winston says pinning the dog underfoot and drawing a knife. "Suspect this is the alpha."

"Borne..." The old man responds, his voice changing. "Must you always be so... excessive?"

The dogs disappear in a black smoke and the old man's form changes to that of Hazarmaveth.

"What..." He looks bewildered and turns around immediately pointing his knife to the god of death who simply stares at him. "What the hell is thi- you... did I..?"

He drops his knife and backs away looking himself over then looks at Enyo with a sigh of relief. Hazarmaveth pulls out a black letter from his "robes" and hands it to Borne. He looks it over before breaking the seal and pulling out the letter. He reads it for a while then suddenly crumples it and tosses it to the ground.

"I ain't playin' no god's games, I ain't no gussied up puppet... plaything!" He yells in a rage at the god, he pecks at his own head. "Don't you even... remember what you said to me the third time? How you hated how mortals were used? You said a god's ordeal was..."

"Was their own and should not burden others. Yes, I remember." Hazarmaveth responds, cutting off Borne. "But they have gone ahead with this plan, and Ulm would only grow more irate with a council of gods pestering them."

"As would I if I had to deal with a bunch of pretentious, self-righteous, egotistical..." Borne fumes, a clear disdain in his voice.

"They are not... eh... but anyways, you are like a son to me, a transient I've taken in and taught, even if it was under inopportune and... unfortunate circumstances." Hazarmaveth interrupts. "I know you, you don't wish suffering on others, the type you've endured and been enduring for all this time. This is your chance to be something, to prove you are more than a halfbreed. That you can make a difference. You will do the right thing, by no other whim but your own."

Borne simply stares at Hazarmaveth grogily during his spiele then proceeds to slowly clap at the air, a gesture that would make more sense had he still had his right arm. He then picks up the letter, stuffs it in his pack and turns around and proceeds on without a word. Then pauses for a moment.

"Do you still remember your promise?" Borne says.

"Yes." Hazarmaveth responds. "But should you really hinge your entire...?"

"Good." Borne responds interrupting the god beginning to head off again.

"I could make your travel easier." Hazarmaveth says. "It is the least I could offer for your troubles."

"No." Borne says. "Think I'll find a place to drink off this sudden ache in my skull. I guess... I'll see you in a week or whatever... or sooner if I die of alcahol poisoning."

They part ways, Hazarmaveth returning to Shalom, certain that his chosen will be ready when the time comes.

"That's right." Borne walks on pulling something from his pocket, a small bottle of black fluid. "By my whim."