Lycaon's Story

The god-king Lycaon sat in the throne room of the silver palace as he thought over the state of the world. He had little concern for the race of elves. Their friends were many and they were able to deal with the bestial gods for centuries on their own. He also had little concern for the bestial gods. His brothers had been bound for over a millennia and had showed little chance of escaping. It was the race of man who he was concerned about. There were millions of them but they were so fragile compared to the gods or the elves. He knew that if a conflict among the gods were to break out they would be quickly wiped out in the crossfire.

His mind was also concerned by the discovery of a relatively large vain of adamant lying deep in the Ulmish mountains. If the right people were to acquire it than they would have a higher chance of combating their enemies. Formally the gods had no enemies; however, Lycaon was concerned about several of their own ranks primarily the Mother and Vescteseg. The mother posed no formal threat to his reign but she was dangerous. Vesctesg on the other hand was a direct concern. He hadn't formally challenged Lycaon; however, his corruption was growing fast and with it the extent of his dominion. Had the vain been anywhere else in the world it wouldn't be a problem. Unfortunately it was in the land of Ulm and his giants. Lycaon had no quarrel with the titan but he doubted that Ulm would give him the only metal that could bind a god.

Lycaon had sent out a notice to any gods available to meet him in the shining silver throne room to discuss the dangers and promise this adamant held and to discuss a means to retrieve it without incurring Ulm's wrath. As of yet no god had arrived but he expected some to be arriving soon.

OOC: As the first post of the game I just decided to have some introspection so that we could establish the state of the world and a potential beginning for conflict between gods.

The Mother

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The Obsidian Palace, as the name suggest, it was an impossibly immense palace that appeared to have been carved from one massive piece of Obsidian for the construction was flawless, from the immense obsidian pillars, to the beautiful walls and even to the doors, themselves, were all solid obsidian opening to the will of the user instead of something so brutish and inelegant as physical contact. Above the hall, obsidian chandeliers hung with eerily purple flames burning granting light to the abyssal palace.

Near the front of the hall, but not upon the throne, was the Mother, her lower body transformed into that of a snake, the long tail curled under her acting as an impromptu seat, her small, pale elbow planted on the cool scales of what, one could only assume, to be her 'hip'. Her dark eyes were focused on the far wall where a 'window' to the mortal realm had been opened. While no one on the mortal realm could see it, save for a fellow deity, in her dimension, it allowed her, and the exalted sitting or standing around the hall, to view the actions unfurling on the mortal world below. While she did not need it to see, Karvana would often open them to give her Exalted something... enjoyable to view.

Currently, they were watching a beastmen raid, of some tribe that wasn't worthy of her memory, on some poor human village, but what the beastmen didn't know, but she certainly did, was that a patrol from the nearby fort was coming by very, very soon, and that is what she wanted to see. The ensuing conflict and bloodshed between the raiders and the patrol, she would never admit it, but she may have... encouraged the raid to happen at that moment just so she would watch the.. festivities.

"Serena," Karvana said, her voice soft and containing warmth that did not truly exist, "My dear herald," she continued, yawning into her hand as she lowered her eyes to the small human curled up within her 'tail'.

The white skull moving as the woman in question looked up to meet her eyes, "Yes, Mother?" the human woman asked, her voice light as a feather dancing upon the breeze.

"I want you to attend our... glorious king's little meeting of his," Mother said, reaching down to tuck a lock of Serena's hair away from her face, "I have more important things to do," she finished flashing a small white smile.

"You just don't want to go, do you?" The human asked, her unnaturally bright eyes sparkling with mirth.

The Mother laid a tiny, pale hand on her chest in mock indignation, "Me? Just not want to go?" She said, her eyes widening in false shock, "Why, I never... well, yes, that is it exactly," She let her sharp chin fall on the palm of her hand as her other hand waved in the air as she spoke, "Can you fault me for it, my herald? Those little gatherings are always so terribly dull. Humans this. Humans that. Elves that. Elves this. Have to protect the world! For order! If I have to listen to another misbegotten righteous speech from our wonderful king, I may very well just fall right asleep, and you know how deities are, I would then have to pretend I cared about their feelings when I awoke."

The edge of Serena's lip twitched at her Mother's antics, "We wouldn't want that, I shall go in your stead... as always," she said, untangling herself from the Mother's tail taking a few moments to straighten out her dress.

With a wave of her hand, Mother opened a portal to the King's Halls, Serena, as a mortal, could not open a gateway to another deities realm without their permission, so she had to do it for her.

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Serena, Herald of the Mother

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Serena stepped through the portal and emerged in the silver hall of Lycaon, the sudden light and atmosphere change hurting her eyes. Blinking away the sudden pain, she let her gaze slide around the hall finding two occupants already present, Kurn, as the Mother called him, 'The God of Mind Dissolving, Soul-Crushing, Boredom,' to which Serena gave a small nod to the sitting god to show the etiquette demanded respect, and of course, the God-King Lycaon.

Serena bowed at her waist, "My Lord, I apologize for my Mother's absence and any inconvenience that it may have upon you. She is preoccupied with..." She paused, "Important business elsewhere."

Klethi had received her summons with disappointment. The absolutely lack of fanfare left her far from excited, but a meeting of her compatriots was the spawning grounds of outcomes at all tiers of possibility. Nations could be formed, species could be exterminated, and there was a lot of money to be made in betting on it.
Before she left Azal, Klethi sent a loyal elf to the holy gambling board that stood on a pedestal at the center of her grand city. Everything from which gods would make themselves present to what would be discussed were big ticket items, with odds quickly haggled and bets placed. Scrupulous members of all races, misers of all ages, and gamblers of all predilections wagered currency, favors, land, titles, offices, food, livestock, limbs, what they'd name their first born, and more to say Klethi would sit next to a particular goddess or if the topic of discussion concerned the great class struggle or if it was secretly a wild, never-ending party and they would never see their patron again. This brought great joy to Klethi, who hesitated to leave the fervor of holy service. No one was sour to lose, not matter what it cost them; if not the next day, or the day after, or forever, there were always opportunities to recoup losses. That was how Azal functioned; one week's mayor become the next month's beggar at the whim of a die roll. It wasn't often enough she watched her servants excited for such a decisive event, however, and it was with displeasure that she willed herself to her summons before it was decided how many chickens Badzel the farmer committed to his belief that a talking fish would be served symbolically as an appetizer.

A muted trumpet sounded Klethi's arrival, which was a flourish of white dress around the shapely form of an elf. In her infinite memory of ballads she knew there was a lyrical greeting perfect for the event, but it had been more than once that another entity displayed their displeasure for her theatrics, and for the sake of Kendidy the Blacksmith (who had invested heavily that at least two gods would be happy to see her) she decided to try not influencing anyone's reception of her. "Salutations, my friends," she greeted simply (well, relatively simply; she made no attempt to suppress the sing-song inflection she was known for). "And what aether-shattering event gathers us?"

Entorios was laying against a tree, one of the ancient trees that had been here since the beginning, when the primordial gods brought this world into being. All this went through Entorios's head, and thus he began to sing. He chose a rich tenor for this song, and sang of the mightiness of the forest, of its endless dance of growth and death, of shelter for the animals and elves who called the forest home. His song rang through the forest, and animals and birds near and far came to watch, and with them came a trio of elves.

The three approached him, and bowed. One of them, who had hair like spun silver, approached Entorios, and said "Greetings my lord. You must be the god Entorios, for no other could sing like that. I am Anros, and these two are my wife Nyonsossus, and my son Elros. We desire to listen to your singing, and perhaps join in if we are able?"

Entorios smiled at the three, for they were known to him as worshipers of his. They often sent prayers his way, and so he nodded.
"Let us sing of-" His sentence was interrupted by the tugging of King Lycaon's summons. Frowning, he said "I am sorry my friends, but I have been summoned. I bid thee farewell. May your hearts ever be full of music." Walking away, he sang two notes, a note so low that the ground rumbled briefly, and a note so high any glass near by would have shattered. The dissonance of the two notes created a portal, and thus he stepped through.

To show his annoyance with being summoned whilst in the middle of something he decided to be a little dramatic. As he entered his form shifted and became more regal, with golden robes adorning his frame. He pulled a trumpet from nothing, and played a heralding tune. And only then did he step forward into the throne room. Passing the other gods with nods or a hello sung, he came to the throne. "I have come forth O king, as you have bid." Then, stepping away from the throne he moved to stand beside Klethi.

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?"

Aeristhatia boredly watched a collection of humans arguing about something unimportant down on mortal ground. She swirled a glass of nectar with impatience. "This day has the attitude of an angry, sleep-deprived bear with a migraine." A scroll materialized on the pedestal in front of her. "Lycaon's doing, I would assume." She read it with interest, realizing it was a summons. Getting up and stretching she turned Hyena-form and ran to Lycaon's silver hall. Upon arrival, she burst through the doors with plenty of flamboyance. "Lycaon, was this really neccessary? I have been very extremely busy with all the busy things Ive been doing!" She smirked, standing beside the other gods and goddesses. "What matter has come up tod-" She stopped as Entorios spoke. There was something so charismatic about him that left her in awe. "G-good evening, Entorios." She smiled but broke into a laugh as she drank the last bit of divine nectar. She hoped this "gathering" would be somewhat festive, and not another monotonous discussion like they usually had.

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."

Vescteseg prowled his throne room angrily, for his last experiment had perished and he was lacking in Entorithi to tinker with. His current project in the caverns below his citadel is where he corrupted flesh and made it his, and where every minion of his could trace its lineage to. Then, he froze, standing absolutely still in order to take in the magnificence of his throne room to calm him down before he broke something again.

The walls were made of magnificent basalt stone, quarried by the undead, carved and shaped by his Alfar, with disturbingly delightful carvings all over the massive bricks. The throne itself was made of black Iron, with the foot of the throne surrounded by human skulls. The remains of a human Army that had marched to drive the Corruption back. That army's general now led a legion of Vescteseg's undead. Fitting in his eyes.

Then, out of nowhere, a thrum of energy batted behind his eyes, in his skull. A summons from his "King" of all things. Rolling his eyes he decided to go just for a thrill. Going to the center of the room, he slammed his warhammer on the ground. The skulls at the foot of his throne rolled forward and formed a perfect circle in front of Vescteseg's feet, and he leaped in.

The portal opened in the middle of the ceiling and he fell through, and when he landed his fall created a small crater in the floor. Slamming the hammer into the ground to help himself, which in the process created another crater, he swaggered over to Lycaon, contemptuously brushing past the other gods. He mockingly bowed before the king of the gods, and said "Greetings oh mighty Lycaon, God of Order and High King of the gods, I the humble Vescteseg have come as you have summoned." His voice seeming to have an extra note of sarcasm on the words King and humble...

As Vescteseg entered the room Lycaon tried to hide his annoyance at his brother's arrival. An eternity ago the two were close but Lycaon had changed and Vescteseg had hardly changed from the bestial god he once was. Of all the gods attending he really hoped that his brother would ignore the invitation and not learn of his plans to acquire the Adamant. The main reason for this being that Vescteseg was the god he had in mind if he were to use the adamant to bind someone in an emergency.

"If it isn't the god of the corruption himself. I am glad that my brother could make it even if it means that I'll have to fix floor again. I can make silver out of nothing but really if I keep having to do this it is going to depreciate in value." Lycaon said trying to keep the atmosphere in the room civil since he had more important business at the moment.

The king was relieved when Selseye entered the room. "Its no big deal my friend we were just beginning to discuss a solution to our adamant supply problems." he said as she was apologizing. To be honest Lycaon was overjoyed that she was able to break the tension in the room from Vescteseg's arrival.

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.

"A mortal?" Klethi repeated. "God-King, I implore you consider a mortal of my choosing. An Elf. He is young, but unquestionably loyal, and it never hurts to hedge that bet; the normally whimsical, fickle nature of mortals has been the downfall of my compatriots before. But this actor in particular knows his role." She often spoke of mortals in terms of actors and performers (with the deciders of other men's fates playwrights or stars). All a part of the Divine Play. That she-knowing full well her proclivity for jeopardizing even her own goals for a more exciting story-would vouch so immediately for a champion spoke well of her choice, but the other gods (who kept tabs on the other minor gods) knew she had no divine hero. That would be playing favorites, and Klethi felt bestowing any level of power to a mortal would be unfair. "He's skilled in many things, whether securing this critical ore comes by guile or a feat-of-arms."

Lycaon listened to his court and considered their various suggestions and advice. Kurn was wise and one of the few gods who wasn't primaily concerned with their own interests and had rarely failed him in the past. He considered the idea of a mortal agent of the gods to retrieve the adamant. He racked his mind to think of a human capable of this task and only one could come to mind. She is insanely persuasive and can talk herself out of most things however she was stubborn and vary hard to control. He thought of Aeristhatia's suggestions and chuckle to himself at th thought of her platypus. He had always found tho use creatures funny and was certain that Aeristhatia was drunk when she created it. He considered sending klethi's mortal as she suggested; however, she she was too random and unpredictable to eb counted on alone.

"Kurn I do agree with your sugstion that we send mortal champion to deal with this issue. The giants are a dangerous people and Ulm is an unpredictable titan so I purpose we send a team heroes. As many of you know I had a daughter who is half god and half human. Getting Nymeria to want to help us will be difficult but if I can persuade her than she would be a very capable agent for us She will be accompanied by Klethi's candidate who seems to be capable enough." Lycaon then turned to face Serena. "It is said that your master's exalted are among the greatest warriors in the world. I would a honored if one of your ranks acompany our party of heroes." He then turned to face Aeristhatia. "Honestly with a team like this a platapus of te godess of trickery couldn't hurt."

This plan seemed risky but it seemed to be his best choice given the situation. He had little trust for the mother and her exalted but he knew that she was loyal to her servants and that it would be highly unlikely that she would disrupt his plans if one of them were part of it. He knew next to nothing of Klethi's elf but they tended to be useful people and he doubted that he would pose a threat to the plans.

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.

"Yes! A party of heroes!" That was the stuff of legend, and Kelthi's overflowing joy became a shrill, triumphant exclamation. "With the strangest, unlikeliest of animal companions in tow. I for one sport a mortal as unlike his race as a platypus to other mammals. They will have much to discuss." She was torn between trying to get the death god's attention once more and the God-King's. She chose to address Lycaon first: "Not that I would question your judgement, but I believe nothing to be unpredictable, Lycaon. That would make damn fools out of my followers, wouldn't it? Nay, I'd say the titan is very predictable in deed. And that will be his downfall. Either that or-" she held up a hand for silence (thought she didn't expect any of the other gods to respect it) and thought "-an unfortunate trip on a slippery patch of grass. Either way I have the utmost confidence in our expedition. Regardless I understand the interest expressed in trying to negotiate with the titan, and-sacrificing my own desire to see what daring and excitement would come from subterfuge-second that opinion." That wasn't entirely true; in fact, it wasn't very true at all; she only wanted to see the titan contacted and told of the discovery to increase the danger of the quest to secure it. The higher the odds against her hero the better her payout, after all. "Vescetesg, I would hardly equate such a supply of adamantium to a stolen tract of land. No offense meant, of course, but slaying gods is far more impressive than some very hot rocks." That didn't mean she didn't want the death god to have the adamantium; she just wanted her own slice, too. "Surely the precognition and insight I offer as the decider of fates would be of more value. And you can trust me to be careful in what advice I'd give, Lycaon; while I may not have always acted in your interest in the past, I ask only for a tenth of what is discovered." She looked at Vescetesg. It wasn't her desire to draw his ire; she preferred to stir the proverbial pot without making herself an ingredient. "Regardless of which route we elect, I can have my elf be made available immediately."

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."