Endrykas's Realm

Neviru grinned at this, though really, Roc's cannot grin with their large and sharp beaks. She cawed with laughter, though it should have sounded disruptive, it sounded possitively beautiful, a rapturous cacaphony of beautiful strands of breaking violin strings. So melancholy, and so terrifying. She shuddered once as she watched the clouds shrink slowly, as though retracting on themselves. She grew slightly angry at this. Those roiling clouds had been part of her damn entrance! Oh well, she would still make this as enjoyable as possible.

Ever so slowly, the feathers began to molt off of the Roc's large form, the frame of the Roc's skeleton itself slowly shrinking. Everything seemed to be disappearing in thin air.. The feathers sizzled, slowly turning to nauseating black sludge, burning the grass lands slowly with a hiss of air. Blue smoke billowed from the ground at golden clad sandaled feet. The Roc was no longer a Roc, but a goddess to behold.

"My my, this is quite the party!" She purred softly, approaching the group as fast as her sandaled feet would allow her, she was pushing the God's buttons to be sure. But deities could not destroy one another. It was the sacred law, and Endrykas would keep it. But her heart, --her human heart-- began to pound faster as she saw the male in all his glory, she did not flush, her chalky pale skin was still as white as ice, and just as cold. She tossed back her raucious inky locks, the grin on her face becoming a smirk as she eyed the male coolly.

The others were nothing to her, especially the pompous who had the audacity to simply glance her way. Neviru did not care for uncaring people such as those who did such. "I suppose this means the games have begun.." She mused aloud, a single delicate eyebrow, as black as night arched in question. She had nothing more to say. Though she could have said much much more.. She noticed only one being in particular that may or may not catch her eye again..

Bugs, cockroaches.. Neviru's lip curled upwards, though in disgust, or in curiousity it was not apparent. She did wonder why Endrykas and she had picked that one, though he did leave nothing to be desired. She wouldn't approach him now. Her gaze shifted back to Endrykas, also curious to see his reaction to her little show she put on. She didn't usually act this cordial, and she was only one foot away from him. Hm...He would probably bust a lug nut. She laughed at this, the sound echoing softly. She turned to the entity of creepycrawlies, repressing a slight shudder. Nodding at him once, she let herself go, watching him with those glittering intelligent eyes that the Roc had had, the only identical thing they had both mirrored. She then left, not saying a word, back towards her own country..

Endrykas looked down as the knight knelt, digging his blade into his the ground before him and bending his head down in respect. A follower. The thought enticed the celestial being as the smile slowly faded, nodding his head to the knight. Felia had her eyes trained on him, seemingly astounded by the sight of the holy creature that stood before her. The God offered the mage a nod as well, bringing his arms to his chest and crossing them as Nev only seemed to bring out the worse in him. Once again.

"Games?" the word flowed from his mouth like poison, his great wings stretching up and over his head, a sight that could be related to a wolf's haunches rising, or more close to a snarl from a feral beast. Though, just as soon as she appeared, she left. As she walked, the wind around her would rise up in protest, a whistle of a sound, though not a blade of grass moved around the newcommers or the God himself.

Shaking his head softly the celestial being would let out a sigh, the tense feeling in the air disappearing as he smiled at the new arrivals, raising both brows. "Might I take this moment to introduce you all to Neviru, the Goddess of Destruction. Her realm is over those mountains of which she came from." his words now flowed with peace laid thick over them, enveloping a sense of calm and sureness that only came with age.

However, he continued, taking what the Goddess had done in stride as he always seemed to do. "This is not an after-life, I assure you. You all have been given a second chance, a fresh start on new lands." with this he would turn, his arm spreading out to motion to all of the land behind him and before him "These lands you stand on now are mine." a smile would reach his lips at this, turning once more toward the people who stood before him. Surely, they would have questions of some sort?

The Entity of Creepycrawlies nearly fell to his knees as the monstrously beautiful Roc began to dissolve before him. Overwhelming emotions struck him, something he hadn't known in life. Nothing had left him so horribly empty. Nothing but death.
The monument to savagery and defilement was nothing now but black goo and blue smoke. Crestfallen, H'taed turned to the man who had approached him. glancing him up and down, before looking past him to the odd bird-dragon lady staring in awe at Endrykas. H'taed did not see the allure. The god was lord over nothing if death did not intervene.

But then, in a swirling blue mist, the goddess emerged. She commanded all of the insect-creature's attention, enveloping him in the aura of danger that surrounded her. When she spoke, the monster gave a step back, his iron mask slipping as the bugs beneath lost their grip on it. She was too much to be real. It was the embodiment of everything he worshiped, everything he was.
She was Death.

As Endrykas spoke again, H'taed snapped out of his trance, looking to the god. The man kneeling before him was a fool. He was pledging himself to an inferior god. There was no higher existance than that of Death, no greater peace. Life was horrible and short. Death was forever.

As the goddess left, he caught a nod from her, a glance that could have been mistaken as her looking to the treeline behind him. He shuddered blissfully with the thought of this goddess having taken interest in him. Insects tumbled from the long sleeves of his robes, the millipedes and worms finding solace in the ground below, wriggling into the soft loam with gusto. And with that, she was gone.

"Might I take this moment to introduce you all to Neviru, the Goddess of Destruction. Her realm is over those mountains of which she came from."
H'taed whispered the name, enjoying the feel of it. Even if this was no afterlife, he would find happiness here, through the pain of others. He was certain that the goddess would feel the same as him.

Turning to the god of creation, H'taed stood up tall and straight, growing taller and taller as the bugs climbed on top of each other. His robe seemed to deflate as he grew thinner, and a mound of writhing bugs could be seen where the hem of his robe no longer reached below his form.
"What is the quickest path to the lands of Neviru?" His words were cold and precise. There was no hint of jest or insecurity, only resounding resolve.
"And what is it that you want?" He asked Artegal, growing shorter now. There was no need for such height when he wasn't speaking with the god.

Different was the word Dorran would use to describe the taste of the serline's meat, yet it was a pleasing flavor if one cared to comment of food in such terms. For the moment he wasn't wearing the cloth covering over his face, nor his armor. His dark skin seemed to blend into the tree he leaned against, his slender, athletically toned body was covered only by his pants and his boots, yet he oddly still wore his green hood, almost never removing it. His body was perfectly suited for what he had done in his previous life, he had been a warrior and his form catered to his fighting style better than a larger stronger frame that one after expected of a soldier. He said nothing, simply ate in silence, glancing occassionally at his parter.

The drake had stripped the serline clean of meat and the skin was hanging nearby and would eventually find use as a blanket or cold weather clothing should the need arise for such things. After discarding the bones, aside from the ones that could be used as tools the drake coiled his body tightly near the fire, hoping the heat would calm him. He could feel it stirring, ever since the Roc had passed overhead, the bloodlust was coming over him. He knew he had some time as long as nothing aggrevated him, he would have to distance himself from Dorran, though even within the midst of the blind primal rage he hadn't been able to arm the man, not even accidentally. However if the glow he had seen over the hill had meant Endrykas was greeting new comers he hoped that he could stay away from them and avoid a repeat of his greatest loss. His yellow eyes turned whistfully to the sky, wondering why the god had chosen to spare him of death and not his love? The innocent one who deserved to live more than he. He and his Bonded were soldiers, glorified killers, and his condition had resulted his love's death, why him and not her?

How interesting that the god would bend his head to them, even in respect as their followers. Not even kings showed this courtesy. Not in her world, anyway. She looked to Neviru as she appeared closely to Endrykas, a low growl in her throat. Surely, this holy being would not stand for this!
And he certainly didn't. Chased away the woman, it seemed. These were his lands...
That made Fei feel much safer. They were in the hands of a tremendous, wonderful power.

The Ragatran witch tugged her blue hood down, which lengthened into a dress that fell right abover her knees. Not the most effective battle-gear, some would think, but it allowed flexibility and freedom of movement for Feila. It was also thin and light, something she needed for quick combat.
Plus, who needed armor when one had Gravity Points?

At the God paused, Fei gazed at him intently, orange eyes never veering from his flawless features. She clicked together the copper claws on her right hand, which extended over her fingers, made of her Great Grandfathers old gauntlet. It proved useful.

"Why are we here?" She asked. A simple question, one everyone wanted to know, she suspected.

Sir Reinhart the True stayed where he was, despite looks from the others. The only reasons he knelt before Endrykas was because he had been given a second chance at life. For some unknown reason, he had been given one more chance. The second reason was a little more complicated. After being in a world torn apart by chaos, and being condemned for efforts he did not do, standing before a god of creation, and an embodiment of good, kneeling was the least he could do in return for another life.

And now he would not rise. He was bound by a knightly honor to uphold justice, and respect those above him. And Endrykas was definitely above him, and would kneel there until he was told to do otherwise. The others did just stand there, catching out of the corner of his eye, H'taed seemed to be ogling over Neviru, the Goddess of Destruction. She was not impressive, nor eye catching. His eyes closed again, and would continue kneeling before the God of Creation until told otherwise.

Ren was growing more and more exhausted by the second in which her presence remained amongst the gathering of 'people' and 'creatures'—whatever they may be. It was not that she disliked such beings, but that it was Ren was a loner. Trust was to not be found with any but herself and thus it would remain until a catalyst for this as well was found.

Arms slowly unwound from beneath her chest and she turned on heel to face away from the murder of crows. The Canthan was to leave this place now and discover where it was she found herself instead of having such questions answered for her. That was not the way to learn according to Ren. The only true way to learn was through the senses—to hear, to smell, to feel, to see, to touch. This the 'Gods' could not grant for her for experience was only had to that sole person.

Her footfalls were almost silent in the grass as Ren began to make her leave and would be successful if allowed to preform such of the 'Gods' will. Why keep such an insignificant creature as herself hostage? For information? To goad themselves and flaunt their power before her? Their knowledge? Tch. They would see nothing but a stoic stare and uncaring along every inch of her mortal coil.

Those footsteps continued growing further and further away ...

Eirem’s actions clearly showed her concepts of the two natural Wills. The male force here was Maternal to Eirem: he owned the lands and gave them great care. Though kind, in a sense, there was exploitable weakness in the pride he took of his own work. The potential of his power did not seem to have the same impact on Eirem in as the Roc did as it turned into the form of the deathly lady. Hers was obviously the Paternal: she was harsh, she was cold, but she would use what there was to please. She was dangerous to those that strived for her, but she was an irreplaceable boon to those that may survive her.

In the face of such gods of that grew ever more important by their mere presence, Eirem might seem to be ill-mannered or disrespecting. This was not true: the culture and customs of her peoples were simple and natural: they applied when facing deities all the same any as to other being.

Instead of bowing or kneeling to the ground Eirem had not only stood her ground, but had raised herself with a straightened posture. In fact, she made a conscious decision to keep her eyes from gazing upon the face of either yet keeping constant track of their movement and made a deliberate point to keep her mouth shut. This had not to do with “who was above whom” but rather showing a healthy and respectful mixture of fear and grace: a low stance and watchful eyes were of one being predatory as they were used by the hunters; whereas a pose of submission and ignorance of sight brought insult, assuming them inconsequential to oneself and implying a refusal to acknowledge present company’s prowess and potential of strength.

She licked each of ulnar coverts, preening them. Her rib cage expanded out and upwards which, along with her chest foliage puffing up, gave great attention to her ‘assets.’ She wasn’t trying to seduce either the Gods, as she hardly would understand as such a concept [were it even explained to her, she may very well find it absurd by her standards]: In the presence of an important figure, it was an obvious courtesy to appear as pleasing to the eye as one could for them.

As her chest puffed, Eirem felt a wax twin-woven belt press against it. The javelin! Her verutum-style spear was still on her person. She heard the click-clacking of the dry nuts tied next to the point and was reassured of her safety for the moment.

It had taken twelve years for them to finally get her, but get her they had...

Naomi Nebraska had been slumped back in a wooden chair, surrounded by a group of three; a woman, a man and a child. They were in a shack, a dark, wooden shack lit only by rays of sunlight bursting in through gaps between the planks that had been nailed over the windows. Those rays of light revealed just how awfully dusty the room was... It hadn't been used in years. But it was being used now.

The sound of a dozen of the walking dead, groaning and banging against the barricaded door from the outside, completely swamped the sounds of the other three, who were talking amongst themselves frantically. It didn't matter... All those sounds were incoherent and distant to her. So very, very distant. She was feeling horrible, ill, feverish, dizzy, as though the world was spinning around her, her body was breaking down and her sanity was fading. It took the man before her to lift up her eye-lid and examine her dilated pupils with the ray of a torch to finally bring her back to attention.

Oh yeah... She had been bitten. Her left arm was in a sling and already red stains were beginning to show on her forearm... She didn't have much time left.

"We have to go now, Naomi," the man before her said as he pushed the butt of a Colt Single Action Army revolver into her quivering right hand, then began to aid her in loading the six chambers. "... We know you can't speak and that aren't going to make it, so we've given you six rounds. Use them wisely... We're leaving now."

The man's stinging kiss against her forehead was the last she saw of him, before he and his companions disappeared down a hatch in the floor to a cavern system below. So this was how it would end, huh? The first grey, bloody sign of a hand tore through a weaker part of the door in line to her front, adding yet another ray of light to burst into the room and a glance at those angry, undead souls gathering outside. They longed for her flesh... But would she give it them? She didn't want to become one of them... No. Not in a million years. To fight for so long, only to succumb to the horde when those she had come to respect and love needed her the most? It would be betrayal.

The sounds of growling then drowned out completely as he shaky gaze fell down to the gun in her hand... It echoed; the sound of her thumb pulling the hammer back. A sound that became so distant, but refused to leave her. A haunting, monotone note that reapplied itself to her ears over and over again until her hand had managed to lift the tip of the Revolver to the inside of her mouth. She bit down on it, hard, and for the first time in so long, Naomi Nebraska began to cry as her finger finally squeezed the trigger.

Then there she was... Terces. She was lying against the soft grass with her face buried into the sea of softly swaying green. Her tears fell to the ground below her and her eyes were shut tightly in fear; her fists clenched and hidden under her body. She could hear voices nearby, muffled, yet slowly becoming clear... It didn't matter. She had no idea what was going on and the way she silently whimpered behind the discussion made it clear she didn't want to. She was in so much shock she had yet to realize what had even happened.

The celestial being was not at all shocked by the gruesome creature's obvious liking for Neviru. Let her have him then, he could be of no use to him anyways. Covered in squirming magots and not at all pleasing to the eye, maybe the young Goddess could have some use for him. In her lands, and not his. To answer his question he would wave a hand toward where Neviru had begun to walk, his facial features remaining calm and collected, while every fiber of his being rebelled against having this thing on his land. Though, not all creatures were beautiful, they all had to be respected. "Follow her."

Two simple words, and then he would turn toward the remaining who stood before him. Emerald orbs scanning those who stood before him. "Rise, faithful knight." the words would be filled with kindness once more, a smile easing across godly lips as he then turned toward the blue-cloaked woman, to answer her question. "To be given another chance at life. Terces is not filled with a life such as yourselves." with this he would sweep his gaze across those who had remained. "You all are being given a chance to create your own city, to rise to greatness or even fall to darkness." emerald orbs would point directly at Neviru who was nearing her own border.

With a sigh and renewing his smile he would continue "I will be near when you need me most, but far when you must choose for yourselves. For now, I welcome you to my gifts." the roar of hooves would rumble through the clearing as a herd of serline danced around behind him, all of their eyes trained on the God as he lifted his great wings and rose a few feet above the ground. Covering the other side of the small river with his wings he would nod to each of them in turn, his smile disappearing as he looked up to the sky, disappearing in a flash of white light.

All that was left remaining of the God was a single white feather, which seemed to dance with different colors at all times like that of an opal. It drifted slowly to the ground in front of the small group, resting in the grass without a sound. If one was to touch it, they would be met by razor sharp edges, though soft if you touched its middle. However, gazing back upon the other side of the river, a small cottage could be found nestled into the forest. Made of wood and stone, it had no rooms inside, but rather could be considered a shack of sorts. A chimney rested atop its shingled roof, smoke already swarming the skies above it. That would be all that could be found of the house though, besides a wooden door of course, its nob made of a white metal.