Taima's Story

“I am Taima, herald of Ahuma, patron deity of the draconian people,” she replied. Her voice was a deep growl, rough and gravely.

“The pact that binds god and devil alike from the realm of the mortals has been broken, and you would question my presence?” she asked, a touch of anger edging into her voice. Jerking her halberd free of the rock, Taima rose to her full height.

“Free-will reigns supreme in the lands above, as was decreed at the dawn of man and beast - lest we return to the days of the primordials. Your actions have not gone unnoticed, and I come bearing the warning of the gods. Do not to again enter the realm of the mortals, lest you face their wrath and be banished, as the primordials before you.

Sirad: She laughed and smirked simply, "You would dare to lecture me in my own realm, when it is I who keeps these Princes from unleashing War, you have no right and no idea." turning to Eve she would go on before teleporting to the humanoid and circling aroun, "So consider this a warning I don't deign to cause harm, nor do I care about your flaccid treaties. My job is to keep a balance, not to play politics with some pretentious cretins who claim to be authorities of above. I could close Hell up and then no one would die, but I don't."

"Your arrogance is sickening and clearly you can boss me around. I am tired of all you kings and queens on your thrones, I keep my end of the deal, you keep yours. FUCK OFF!"

Taima's expression was impossible to read through her draconic visage, but she offered no retort. Striking her halberd against the floor at her feet, lightning cracked through the air once more and then Taima was gone, as abruptly as she had arrived.

Her message had been delivered. Only time would determine if the wayward demon would deign to again bring forth the very rivers of hell into the realm of the mortals.

“It's good to see that the last of the Seraph has found such invigorating uses of his time,” Taima observed, her voice a rumbling growl. The note of chastisement was difficult to pick out beneath the roughness of her voice, but her eyes betrayed her disapproval.

As Nethaniel turned towards the source of the voice, he would find a warrior standing at the street side – seemingly overlooked in his initial departure. Tall and proud, Taima was a looming figure, and though her fierce visage held the snarling likeness of her draconian lines, there was a sense of divinity to the creature; a strength that ran deeper than flesh.

“Retired?” Taima asked. “I was not aware that a sacred duty was something one retired from.” The draconian gave her head a shake.

“Perhaps I was mistaken,” she remarked. “I came looking for a Seraph. Perhaps you might know where I could find one.”

“Still here,” Taima agreed. She paused and glanced overhead to view the sign that hung over the establishment.

'One Stop Joy Ride For Guys and Gals'

One could almost see the skepticism in her draconic visage. Somehow she suspected Nathaniel's reasons for remaining in this realm didn't have much to do with duty, and more to do with personal gratification.

“Still here,” Taima agreed. She paused and glanced overhead to view the sign that hung over the establishment.

'One Stop Joy Ride For Guys and Gals'

One could almost see the skepticism in her draconic visage. Somehow she suspected Nathaniel's reasons for remaining in this realm didn't have much to do with duty, and more to do with personal gratification.

“When was the last time you took up a cause,” she asked.

“Perhaps the world does not want your help,” Taima began. “But look around you. It needs it more than ever. War ravages this realm as surely as I am standing here. The old pacts lie in tatters, demons and gods alike walk this realm with no regard for the tenuous balance that holds this world together. This city sits at the crux of it all.”

She gave Nathaniel a hard look. “I am Taima, Herald of Ahuma, Patron deity of the Draconians. A reckoning is coming, and warriors will be called. We would call upon the last Seraph of old to remember his sacred duty, to remember that the lives of the multitudes do not rest in the hands of a few religious leaders whose bones have long turned to dust in the earth.”

She did not wait for a response as she simply turned to depart, leaving Nethanial to his evening.

Taima approached Stragha's bed, her footsteps heavy upon the hospital floors. She was an imposing individual, standing at about six-foot-eight, and though humanoid in form, Taima's features were unmistakably draconic in nature. Her face was the visage of a dragon snout complete with a mouthful of vicious looking fangs and bony protrusions, and in place of skin she had scales, crimson red. On her back she sported a large pair of wings.

The hour was late, and despite the critical condition Stragha was in, no medical staff were on hand. A silence had stolen over the darkened room. Placing her hand upon his chest, a light glow permeated the poorly lit room, sinking into Stragha's chest.

As Taima drew his consciousness to the surface, Stragha would awake to the blinding pain of his injuries and the draconian image within his sights, but an uncomfortable weight upon his chest would keep him immobilized so as to not injure himself during this brief interlude.

"Strahga Darkpyre," Taima spoke. Her voice was a guttural growl, but there was a sense of divinity that encompassed the being that stood over Strahga's broken form.

"Be still," Taima replied as the shadows about them stirred and receded once more. There was a commanding presence to the draconian, a strength that ran deeper than flesh, and her voice spoke as one who was accustomed to being heard.

"You linger at a crossroads," she continued, her voice rough and gravely. "All that you feel is just a taste of what lies ahead. You lack direction, discipline, purpose. You do battle, but you lack the convictions to see yourself to victory. You linger now at the brink of death, a broken body because you lack a warriors true spirit."

"Tell me Strahga Darkpyre, what do you fight for."

"And that is why you fell," Taima replied. "When you stepped into that arena, you faced not one, but two opponents. Until you learn to harness what lies within you, you will never reach your true potential. You fight for control, but you have none. Two parts of a whole, at war with yourself." Her gaze burned into his own as she spoke.

"I am here to give you a choice. A warrior's strength comes from that which he fights for," Taima replied. "But you fear what you fight for. You will fail, and those you would protect will die by your own hand."

"I come to offer you a purpose, a cause. A warrior with conviction is an indomidable spirit, a torrential storm of retribution. Victory or death, they are the way of a warrior at peace with their path."

"Are you a warrior Strahga Darkpyre?"

"I would have you serve as my Champion," Taima replied. "The world crumbles into chaos around you. The old pacts between gods and demons lie in tatters, villainy and corruption run rampant. Warriors are needed, warriors with the heart to stand against the storms that are coming."

"Vow then to me that you will take this mantle," Taima instructed. "That you will stand where others would fall, that you will be the shield for those who cannot shield themselves, the sword to fell those who would bring chaos to this realm. That you will seek out the temple in the snowy reaches far to the north, that you will learn the discipline and heart of a true warrior."

"Then forever more, I name you my Champion, Strahga Darkpyre," Taima growled lowly.

The light that filled Strahga's chest dimmed as Taima withdrew her hand, leaving behind the glowing impression of her hand upon his chest. It would linger for hours yet before fading.

The draconian's visage would fade rapidly from view as unconsciousness swiftly retook the fallen warrior.

Valhalla, hall of the slain and house of Odin, king of Asgard. Few had tread through these magnificent halls, and fewer still that could be counted among the living, and yet it was here that Taima had found herself. The hall was a vast circular chamber, with a throne resting upon a raised dais, where none other than Odin himself sat. At his side was a smaller, though no less ornate throne where Frigga, queen of Asgard was seated.

Ringing the room were other faces, all who had answered the summons of Taima. Some of the faces were familiar to her, while others remained foreign. Thor and Baldur, sons of Odin, she knew only by reputation, while Lobos and Anzo were more familiar to her. Like her, their origins lay somewhere south of the northern reaches that Odin's house oversaw. The Auditor had come as well, sharing a domain not too different from her own. Cotillion and Serenade held her gaze the longest, as they were the two present that she was least familiar with. Norman too stood present, an oddity perhaps - as like herself he was born into the world a mortal before ascending to godhood. It was fitting perhaps that his domain lay within the realm of luck.

So few, she thought. So few that answered her summons. She had hoped that more would arrive, that more would rise to the threats that god and mortal alike were facing. There was a storm coming, she knew it as surely as she was standing here now, but convincing the very gods of this fact would prove more difficult. It was easy to sit on high and overlook the realms around you when you were a god, easy to think yourself beyond the influence of the world. It was a folly that had long plagued their numbers.

Turning her attentions back to Odin and Frigga, Taima took to one knee, bowing her head while she lay her halberd upon the marble floor at her side. The draconian warrior had a strength to her that ran deeper than flesh and blood, and even within the presence of gods she had a commanding presence to her as she rose back to her feet.

"I am Taima, herald of Ahuma, patron deity of the Draconian people," Taima began, her voice rough and gravely. "I have come on behalf of the southern gods. In the days of old, our pantheons have co-existed amiably, but times are changing. War and chaos ravages the lands. The old pacts lie in tatters, demons and gods alike walk the realms of the mortals, and the tenuous balance that holds reality together grows frayed. It is time for new pacts to be forged, new alliances to be made. We would reach out to the honorable house of Odin," she paused looking to the others. "And all who would answer the call," she added to the others that had gathered. "Scattered, our influence is weakened, but together we can bring order to the world again. Together we can face the rising storm."

As the figure strode through the wreckage, a second presence made itself known. She didn't walk in, nor did she appear in a flash of light or a fiery display, no she simply existed where moments before she had not. Tall and proud, Taima was a looming figure, and though her fierce visage held the snarling likeness of her draconian lines, there was a sense of divinity to the creature; a strength that ran deeper than flesh.

"Joshua," she spoke, her voice a low growl. "Or rather, Kushin."

It was unlikely that the former would be drawn to such a place of negativity as this... graveyard.

Taima stood fast, the clang of steel resounding as his ghostly blade struck her halberd, seemingly stayed as surely as if it had been solid. Her free hand outstretched as arcane bindings came to life. Errupting from the earth at his feet, the ethereal chains entangled the revenant fast, before a crack of lightning errupted from her halberd, slamming into his chest and sending him hurtling backwards. Ghostly or not, Taima seemed well capable of striking his incorporeal form, and the lightning that coursed through him danced along the tenuous ties that bound him to this plane.

"Stay down," she barked. Her voice held the reverberating roll of thunder within it, backed by the weight of the mountains. It held a compulsion within it, slamming into his psyche, and urging him into inaction. The arcane bindings tightened all the further about his form, entangling his arms and legs.

"I have come to make you an offer," Taima replied as the arcane bindings released the revenant, receding back into the earth.

"You cling to the mortal coils, even after death would take you," she continued, her voice remaining at a low growl. "Your compatriot spoke true, you live in pain, taking that which would sustain you for another day. I would give you a chance to change that, to give back all that you have taken in this life, and your life before."

She stared long and hard at him. "Or I can bind you here, never again to harm another soul."