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The Gods of Pandeum



a part of The Gods of Pandeum, by LuckyNumber24.


LuckyNumber24 holds sovereignty over Pandeum, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

534 readers have been here.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

greatly inspired by a series of rpgs ran by almostinsane and saxious


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Pandeum is a part of The Gods of Pandeum.

13 Characters Here

Asger and Tryne [7] "Only the Strong will survive to thrive, only they can Conqueror and Prosper.".
Luman and Cali [5] God and Goddess of Duality and Balance
Adharc'aon [5] The God of the Hunt, Beasts, and Fertility
Ulmo [5] God of the Sea
Anaria'tal [4] "I breathed life into the trees, to the plants, to the grass... now I am forced to watch it burn... be cut down and salted... It is more painful than any mortal can imagine."
Tyler [3] The Immortal Power of Success and Survival
Montayzuomah [3] The god of disease and suffering
LiesseiL [2] "I wonder, what if..."
Kaellarak [2] The God of Deception, Plots and Shadows
Norack/ Rinen T. Hawk [2] Et Incaratus est mors!!!!!! God (and avatar) to the gypsys, nomads, and dragons.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Luman and Cali Character Portrait: Asger and Tryne Character Portrait: Tyler Character Portrait: Ulmo Character Portrait: Montayzuomah Character Portrait: Tashiek Character Portrait: Shem Character Portrait: Norack/ Rinen T. Hawk Character Portrait: Adharc'aon Character Portrait: Anaria'tal Character Portrait: LiesseiL Character Portrait: Muertina Character Portrait: Kaellarak Character Portrait: Kairos & Kallandra
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Cali and Luman

“There is a shift in energy manifesting.” Luman said as he stroked his chin, two golden eyes focused on checkered board in front of him. He reached out, moving his the white form of one of his knights several spaces forward. “Yes, I’m very away, my love.” Cali said as she cornered her husband’s ivory king with a dark queen. “It’s a emptiness unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.” She looked up from the board, amusement flickering in her ebony colored eyes. “I believe I won this game.” Luman chuckled, running his fingers through his hair as leaned back in his throne. “I believe so, my dear. Your cleverness knows no bounds.” The Lady of Shadows smirked, rising from her obsidian seat and walking about the chessboard. She sat in her husband’s lap, draping her legs over his throne’s armrest. “Now,” she started. “We must prepare for this coming change, whatever it is. Regardless of whether it’s dark or light, something with this much energy is bound to knock everything out of balance.”

Luman nodded. “I know, that’s what I’m worried about. We’ve all come to such a good place. The nations are healthy, the Treaty goes unthreatened, and for a while, I thought we’d have actual harmony.” “Well, you know what they say.” Cali said. “A God’s work is never finished.” Luman smiled weakly and leaned over, kissing the goddess on her nose. “Why must you always be so insightful?” “It’s a blessing and a curse, to be quite frank.” Ebony smirked as she got up, her leathery wings lifting her several inches off the ground. “We should spread the word among the gods.” Luman nodded, standing up and walking over to the nearest window. A ball of light formed in his hand and he brought it to his lips. “Go give word to our brothers.” And it flew off into the realms of the other gods, where it would give the same message.

“Something is coming. Be prepared.”

Dolus Magnus

The crown was heavy on Dolus’ head. It’s golden halo and sparkling jewels filled the white of his hair with colored light. The tips of his elongated ears rubbed against the crown’s rim, causing their pointed ends to slightly redden with irritation. As the bastard prince looked into the mirror, he couldn’t bring himself to smile. The crown wasn’t meant to be worn by someone who looked like him. The dull silver in his eyes deepened with the slight pang of sadness he felt. He starred in the mirror for several moments, a look of concentration on his face, before his appearance began to subtly ripple and change.

The marks on his skin faded, his hair turned a warm brown, and his ears shortened and rounded out, not leaving a hint of their barbs. The sad metallics of his eyes filled with a sharp amber and for a moment, Dolus flickered with genuine satisfaction. This is what the people wanted. “Dolus? Are you ready?” Orion walked in, a mixture of sadness and anger covering his face when he saw his prince. “You aren’t trying this again.” A smile formed on Dolus’ lips as he turned around. It was mostly sincere, which became progressively more difficult for the prince as he coronation closened. “Oh, hush. This is a good idea. The people will be much more comfortable if I look like this.” Dolus gestured to his face. Orion rolled his eyes and shook his head. “They’ll love you. They’ll love you without your tricks and spells. Just as I do.” Dolus let out a laugh. “Many late nights have proven that you’re a big fan of my ‘tricks.’” A smile cracked on the bodyguard’s face.

A moment of silence passed between them. “Well,” Orion started. “We should be on our way. You have to discuss plans for the Harvest Festival.” He paused before continuing. “And, at the end of the day, it’s your coronation. It’s your decision how the Empire sees you. You’re the Emperor, so I won’t tell you how to live your life.” Dolus shook his head, the color draining from his hair and the marks slowly rising back onto his skin. “I’m not the Emperor yet. Let’s not get too dramatic.” He walked toward his guard and placed a hand on his cheek, the other man’s stubble pricking him slightly. “Thank you, Orion.” “It’s my pleasure, Prince Dolus.” The future emperor smiled. “Let’s not delay then. I feel like this festival will be a grand time, don’t you?” They began walking. “If you have a hand in it, this festival will be like none that anyone has ever seen before.”


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Character Portrait: Montayzuomah
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Floating above the great castle of the Vladaminsky, Montayzuomah relaxed. Sitting cross legged with his arms crossed as he watched the current celebrations occurring. The streets of Shadopolis were littered with celebratory marches, the people all cheered as the current event continued. Market places lined the streets with flags strewn overhead, these flags held three symbols. One being a squared S, with two horizontal lines cutting through it, the Vladaminsky symbol. Another symbol stood next to it, an upside down triangle with two over triangles located inside it, the Rostovii symbol. Finally, the third symbol stood above the other two, showing this celebration to be of the main symbol. This symbol was a triangle, with a square inside and a circle inside that.
The main event of the coronation of the new member of the trimonarchy, the Payemyndii.

Montayzuomah giggled a little as he slowly floated down towards the castle. "Everything seems to be getting too interesting now..." He muttered, "I wonder how my little mortal leader will cope..."
That was when he received a message from the other gods, "Something is coming. Be prepared." He could only react with a small giggle, "I wonder..."

United Shadonian Nations

"First off, I would like to welcome Patraeko Payemyndii here as the new Trimonarch who has surpassed the previous trimonarch of the Skeel." Weilacca spoke, "Along with that, you are the youngest trimonarch in history!"
Weilacca was sitting in the conference room of the great vladaminsky castle. His seat was situated in front of stain glass which was decorated with the vladaminsky symbol and coloured red and black. The other two trimonarchs sat in front of banners which contained their symbols, all of which were at the 3 corners of a triangular table.

"It's amazing how you could do this, Patraeko." Dae spoke, "You became king of the payemyndii only two months ago. And you had already managed to bring it into the top three master clans."

"Thank you. I must thank your previous decisions of trade. The Payemyndii sector are based around trade, your trade agreements with the other nations had allowed us to prosper." Patraeko answered, smiling a little with the praise.

"Hey hey guys~!" Montayzuomah spoke as he appeared in the room, floating cross legged next to Weilacca. "You doing a simple meeting?"

"Hey, Montayzuomah." Weilacca answered, "Yes, we are." He looked back towards the others, "With the harvest season arrived, our food trades will bloom. However, winter is drawing closer. Some nations will be struggling with transport of goods towards us, so we may need to offer our help. We can't afford to loose trade for one season, not with such a bustling population."

And with those words, debate occurred. The three trimonarchs discussed the troubles of trade and quickly moved on to the USN. Addressing the problems of child labour in the metle sector, and the poverty of the aq clan. It was soon decided that these discussions would continue in the clan meetings next month, mainly due to the sun quickly setting.


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Character Portrait: Anaria'tal
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#, as written by Zentose
A cool breeze passed through the forest. It howls as it moves through the leaves, the branches, the underbrush. It travels slowly, observing the events, yet too frightened of Anaria to do anything to interject. For this forest, all of it, is her domain. her protectorate, her home.

Within this same forest, a small child plays with her friends. Her and her tribe had just moved into this forest to get away from the constant war. This child was separated from her friends during a game. And now, she was lost and alone...

The young girl was frightened, as night was coming. She was shaking as she moved through the darkening forest the howls of wolves growing ever present. Her parents always warned her about going out alone, but she never listened. Now however, she was begging and pleading to get back to her camp, she was praying to the gods saying she would never run off again.

She heard the rustling of bushes and called out, thinking the gods had answered her prayers... How wrong she was. It was three large wolves, black as night, eyes filled with anger. The child backed up, hitting a tree as she moved. She froze unable to move as the wolves snarled and barred their teeth moving ever closer to the small child they perceived as an intruder in their territory. Just as the lead wolf pounced wines wrapped around it's legs, holding it in place, it growled and began to gnaw at the vines before they lifted its body up and tossed it against its fellow wolf. A woman, the most beautiful woman the child had ever seen walked in between her and the wolves. Her body radiated with light in the cold dark forest.

She spoke with grace, as well as force, it denoted respect, as well as care, "You have eaten your fill today, leave this child alone. She did not mean to enter your home."

The wolf growled back.

The gorgeous woman walked towards the wolf, who was now back on his paws. She slowly moved her hand towards him, he growled, then stopped as she placed her hand on its head, "I gave you this home, I can take it away in an instant. Now. Go to your children."

The child was stunned, she didn't know what to do, or say. She was speechless. She took a step towards the woman, but stopped when the woman turned around and set her turquoise gaze upon her. There was peace in her eyes, love, fury, so much. The child fell on her knees and began to cry. Only to have the woman's warm hand touch her child lifting it up.

"Child," she spoke, warmer than the sun, "Do not cry, you are in my home now, I will always be here."

"Wh-who are you?" the child meekly spoke.

"Anaria, and all the plants you see around you are my children."

"Your... children? Are you a goddess?"

"If you must use that moniker. And who are you, child?"

"I am Andrasta'ni."

"A lovely name. Your camp is straight in that direction, be safe," she pointed off in the distance with a smile.

Andrasta began to walk off in the direction she indicated, but turned around and said, "Would you let us stay here? My mommy and I have been running from others with our tribe for a long time... Can you make us safe?"

Anaria chuckled a bit before smiling and looking at her, "Andrasta'ni, you and your tribe may stay for as long as you respect my children."

Andrasta smiled and ran off, yelling, "Thank you Anaria!"

Hundreds of Years Later

That day is still close to Andrasta'anna heart, even after so much time. it is how she sees Anaria'tal, no matter how unlike it she now is. That Anaria, is the one Andrasta preaches of, that Anaria, before the war, was what Andrasta follows.

Now, in the heart of the forest that she first met her Queen, she now walked, it was a silent, peaceful autumn night. The stars peeked through the orange and red leaves above, which had not yet started to fall. The changing of leaves always made Andrasta a tad despondent, as she remembered once when the seasons never affected the forest, when Anaria would keep everything green and sheltered. Now during the winter the Dryads needed to wear thick clothing, when before they could wear practically nothing, they could feel the grass on their feet, the bark against their skin as they climbed trees... The cold affects everything now. And the Dryads, just as Andrasta, had to adapt. A slight gust passed through the forest, Andrasta shivered as it went by, as she was still wearing her summer clothes. They were little more than undergarments to most nations, but to the dryads, it was normal. Andrasta picked up her pace, trying to keep herself warm. She listened as the trees began to go to sleep, their finals words to one another as they drifted off into dreamland, yes, even the trees dream.

As she approached her destination, warmth greeted her. The trees slowly became greener as she grew ever closer to the spring, Anaria's spring. As she entered the spring, which was warm with life, she was greeted with a sight she was not used to, Anaria was standing, attentive with a palm on one of her trees. The spring itself was special, there was a small peninsula of land with a soft moss on it, going into a large pool of water. This was where Anaria was born, and where she first breathed life into the plants. Usually, Anaria lies in her pool, communing with her children, not really paying much mind to anything else when Andrasta arrives. Now, however, she was attentive, clothed, and walking around, something was amiss.

"Anaria'tal," Andrasta said walking to the peninsula and kneeling.

"Andrasta'ni," Anaria said with a bit more warmth than she used to, she still did not smile however, Anaria was also the only one whom still called her 'ni, meaning child, "One of my fellow gods saw fit to warn me of something..."

"Warn you of what, my lady?"

"Of that, he either wasn't sure, or didn't feel like illuminating me on... I've felt it too... a disturbance of sorts..."

"I will alert the Priests."

"I have informed my children, if anything should become amiss in this forest, I shall hear of it," she said these words coldly, as she turned her back to Andrasta.

"This is a pleasant change my lady," Andrasta said, smiling.

"Do you really think I care so little...?"

"That... that wasn't what I meat, my lady... I simply... I was just happy... about your newfound interest."

Anaria began to remove her clothes and step back into the pool before saying, forcefully, "Go."

"Yes... my lady," Andrasta responded, meekly, before quickly rushing off, away from the hidden spring.

Anaria was lying in her pool speaking with her children, they were all that brought her joy after so many years of strive. They were all she had. Her eyes rocketed open the second she felt a disturbance in her spring, it was unnatural, the forest itself stops any but Andrasta'anna from getting near the spring, the trees will contorts, change, move, to get the person confused. Anaria wiped a tear from her cheek before looking upwards, seeing the ball of light, and hearing the message, "Something is coming. be prepared."

She did not appreciate the intrusion into her day, nor the intrusion into her spring, but she had felt it too. Something was amiss, she figured it would pass the forest by, but it was wishful thinking, whatever it was, she needed to be ready, the Dryads, needed to be ready. She stood up and walked out of her pool, the warm water dripping off her body, each drop causing a new plant to form on the ground. She put her clothes on and placed a hand on her eldest child, the greatest, oldest, tallest, strongest tree in the forest. with it, she was able to communicate not just with her forest, but all the forests, although the trees that were once under her domain, but were now in the land of other gods could not be directly controlled by Anaria from her spring, she could still see them, feel them, even speak to them. She warned her children about this danger. The newer trees however, had lost most of their intelligence, they were not too bright, and the broadness of her warning was ignored by most newer forests...

It saddened Anaria each time she communed with them, she was not in their lives to guide them, to grow them, to make them hers... she used to cry every day about this, she had very few tears left to shed however... The few she had left escaped every so often, but not this time. This time she needed to stay strong, and adamant in the face of whatever danger was on its way.


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Character Portrait: Luman and Cali Character Portrait: Tyler
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Something is coming. Be prepared.

Tyler glared at the messenger. "Of course something is coming," she said, "of course something is coming. Something is always coming. It doesn't matter to me. Why should it? We'll find a way. And, also, maybe the mortals. What else can we do? Fail? Bah, failing is for failures who don't know how to win. And one of things I know how to do is win."

Tyler glanced back to the messenger, the ball of light, "I'm going to get you to send me a reply, okay? Well, here it is: You'd think the God and Goddess of Duality and Balance wouldn't send something so obvious. Really, what else could we do except get prepared for anything? And this was why I didn't enter the War. To many obvious plans and messages. Luman, Cali, I know that you miss me, but you could've at least sent a message of something more, like, 'how are you doing?' I'm hurt now. Okay, now I'm rambling. Survival is wanting to take over, and, as always, I am prone to the whims of Success and Survival." Tyler, who's form was changing, looked at the ball of light. "What are you waiting for? Go!"

The ball of light disappeared. Tyler grew a few feet, to a more gruff and dangerous appearance. The only thing he could do now, was go into a dangerous area and survive. This was going to be fun.

Oriander Nequin

Oriander Nequin, otherwise known as the Great King (he would never call himself that, it was the people who coined the title), was walking the beaches of his island. Earlier that morning Matilda Wonder and Malice Savvory had been entered in an argument. Or, rather, an angered man ready to hit a not caring woman. It happened. And when Oriander turned his head to see the conflict he saw Matilda with a red face, and Malice standing over her.

Oriander looked at Malice, "Malice, what have I told you about your anger?"

"T-to hold it in," was the shaky, deep voice of Malice. He was now terrified for his life. "And to release it when needed."

The Great King laughed, before standing from his throne and walking towards the general of his army. "Remove your helmet," was what Oriander said.

Malice did so quickly, only to receive the hardest backhand he had ever felt in his life, stronger than his father's, even. "You will not touch the Magister Wondrous," Oriander snarled, "she is in a higher station than you. You are lucky that I need you, or you would have received a harsher punishment. Go back to Dervin and only contact me if it is a matter of importance. I will contact you otherwise."

Malice frowned before nodding. He then left, not wanting to face anymore of the anger of Oriander Nequin. "Matilda, you a relieved of your duties for today. Go do something," the king said to Matilda as he left.

Many bows, a horse and a few kilometres later, Oriander was on the beach, walking. Walking towards the rowboat that was grounded on the hot sand. Walking towards the captain of the Queen Anne's Revenge. Walking towards the Queen of Pirates, Erin Teach. Erin Teach with all her one eyed-ness, her pirate-ness, and her harshness. She saw Oriander, and smirked. I was a minute later when Oriander finally reached Erin. "So, Great King, how's the Isle?" was Erin's usual greeting.

Oriander raised an eyebrow, "The Isle is warm, as always." Was the usual reply from Oriander. Before anymore words could be shared, Erin pushed the rowboat out into the sea and jumped on.

"Coming, Great King?" she was teasing him.

"Of course, Madam Teach," and he teased back relentlessly as he jumped towards the rowboat. The rest of that day was a day of party. Party and love...lots of love...


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Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender
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The eldest of the young gods sat. He sat and meditated like he had done for the last 7 years, that being the time since he had given young Renin his mark, making him his earthly vessel. He felt another's presence in his realm at the same time his pet, Luna, did. The dragon Lifted her head and grimaced when the ball of light floated towards her master. Norack opened his eyes and stood to greet the ball. "What do I owe this unwanted intrusion in to my realm to?" he asked. The ball relayed its message and waited for reply from the god. He thought deeply for a moment before saying anything. "Tell the gods of balance that my position still stands as it did during the war." he said. "Now be gone". The ball vanished with out a moment of hesitation.

He sat back down and let his mind drift to his vessel......"oh what a show this should turn to be" he thought as his internal third eye focused on Renin's head...


The arrow shot passed Renin's head and barely nicked his left ear, stinging like a bad paper cut. He smiled and pulled the lever on his rifle back. So, he thought, those spineless basterds learned how to shoot properly. He turned from his cover behind the pillar and screamed their war cry, "Et Incarnatus est mors!!!" . He heard yells of agreement and fired is rifle, the round hitting its mark and tearing through the poor archers throat. Upon hearing the war cry of the Scarlets, the leader of the keep began to feel just a bit scared for his life.


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Character Portrait: Luman and Cali Character Portrait: Asger and Tryne Character Portrait: Ulmo
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The Goddess watched from on high, smiling. A cup of mead in her hand as she observed from her throne in Valhalla. Whilst the rest of the world wasted it's time at peace, the Frozen Norths enjoyed a civil war. It was her favorite past time, though of course not what she wanted for the Frostborn, it still amused her very much to see them battle. She drank the mead leaned in to watch a dual. Jarl Wilhelm of the Bearclaw had cut a path straight to Jarl Belgruf of the Shattersheild and now the two were engaged in heated battle to the death. Both were seasoned veterans and proud Danes, it should be a lengthy duel worthy of her attention but her ears caught sound of something else, a message.

" Something is coming.Be prepared.".

She laughed loudly, the mead spilling on the floor. When she finished she rested her head on her hand. "I already am, fools.They think I've been sitting her doing nothing all these years? Am I not the Goddess of War?". Asger jokingly said to herself. She went back to the battle at hand, clapping her hands for more mead. "I guess I should end this pety squabble of a civil war, if it makes my fellow Gods feel safe knowing that I am "prepared.".

With that Asger expanded her arm forward and with motion, swiped before her away. Now before here was an expanse of open ocean. "What is that girl up to?". The Goddess of War asked herself and leaned in to get a better view, a servant bringing her more mead as she did this.

Astrid of the Shattershield

The city of Atlantae was in sight, the Huskarlars of the four boats gave the word for the horns to be sounded, to warn the people of their arrival. The Thegns shouted things in old Northsmen, a language forgotten to all but the Frostborn, and the Drengs rushed to execute their orders. Along with the Huskarls were the Merkismathrs, men and women of great skill and renown in battle. Each ship had atleast two of these champions onboard, each one distinquished by the animal pelt they were or the trophy they had (and trophies varied from simple things like a ring of a rival Merkismathr's corpse to his weapon to his severed head hooked to their belt). However regardless of how decorated these men and women were and all their years of experience, there was one amongst them that stood out.

She was as tall as the men and though she was indeed beautiful, her stance was intimidating. Her eyes were like two hawks, observing the crew for flaw, for weakness, and she found it, she pounced. Her commanding voice was like the barking of the Norths Wolf. It put the fear of the Gods in them. The Huskarlar, being a smart man, could only support her and chewed out his men for not meeting her standards. Her shield was scarred from battle, her warpaint was fresh, and the spear in her hand seemed to be yearning for blood. They knew her by many names for despite her youth she had done many things but the title she had earned most recently was Avatar of Asger and Tryne. This woman was Astrid, Daughter of Jarl Belgruf, and it was she who led these men and women to Atlantae.

When the four ships came close enough to begun noticing the features of the city, they all stood in awe. Their walls were like mountains. When they pulled into the harbor, the Avuvian warships casted shadows over their long boats. It was no wonder taht the mighty Frostborn respected the Avuvians, and heralded them as equals. Astrid stood at the bow and took in the sights, her sword and shield still gripped in her hands. It was a city untouched by war, unlike the cities of the Frostborn, and beautiful. "My people once swore to burn this city to the ground. Yet here it is still, flourishing and untouched, and here we are coming to it not to fulfill our promise but to go against it. We may near mock the Ancestors by doing this. Yet here we are...are the Avuvians that mighty of a foe father?".

In the absence of her father, the wind responded for him and blew gently against her face. "Sound the horns again," she called over her shoulder. "Tell the men to prepare to dock and shore leave. I shall see for myself if these Avuvians are worth our hospitality or the sharp end of our spears.".


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Character Portrait: Adharc'aon
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Soaring above the slowly rolling clouds in the form of a black hawk, Lenwë lazily began to dive through the sea of white below him. It had been easy to slip away into the feeling that always came with flight. Complete freedom, and utter detachment from the whole world beneath. It was a wonder to him that Ninian Folte, the only living member of the Hawk-men, could always remain so on-task, so determined to fulfill her duties, and not get lost in flight. Suddenly pushing himself into a roll, folding his wings back, and angling steeply downward, Lenwë broke through the last of the clouds leaving a wispy spiral in his wake. Upon seeing the land he'd briefly left out of sight and mind, his thoughts snapped back to the issues most currently pushed onto the Avatar's platter.

The harvest-season was now here, many of the farmers in the central Commonwealth were already requesting aid in transportation of their goods, and some located nearer Nephyra's Nest sought escorts to deter harpy attacks. He pivoted his head to the right, and his hawk-eyes easily picked out, in fantastic detail, the derelict volcano that served as home to those meddling harpies. The Artabraic Bear, Cynwrig Caratacos, had proposed during the last meet of the Inner Circle that a hunting expedition take place and be directed there. He even wanted to lead it, but Lenwë and the majority of the Circle had opposed this plan. Every hunter knew it was folly to assault the Nest. And Cynwrig was growing too old, too anxious in his wait for a worthy death. In Winter perhaps, Lenwë had promised him in appeasement, we can go together to mince words with the Harpy Queen. How the old bear had laughed at that thought.

And then there was, of course, the coming of Fómhar Fola, The Blood Harvest. The time for the criminals of Slabhra to be released and be given a chance to prove their worthiness of freedom and redemption. This time of the year often drew much more than merchant vessels looking to broker deals for freshly reaped crops. Tourists always came in droves to see if any Men from the Pit made it off the Crescent Isles, and some even wished to participate in the hunt of those criminals. Naturally, all but Artabraic hunters were banned from the Crescent Isles during Fómhar Fola, but there were always the ones who thought they could buy their way on.

In addition, there was the need for a diplomatic mission down South to the United Shadonian Nations to discuss trade agreements and the proposal of a military alliance. With generally friendly relations with the Dryads just across the Southern border and the people of Makuulm across the frozen Northern border, this would set the Commonwealth on good terms with the entire Eastern coast of Pandeum.

All should have been well and good, these small issues mere trifles to be dealt with between hunts, but now Lenwë's mind was burdened by the words of Adharc'aon. "Something is coming." The Horned God had relayed Luman and Cali's message to his Avatar, "Be prepared." Lenwë had been in a trance state earlier that morning, mostly communing with the plants around him in the forest, trying to hone his skill in the use of Natural Magick, when his God strode through the brush, great antlers brushing against canopy some fifteen feet above.

"A cryptic warning." Adharc'aon's voice had boomed through the trees while Lenwë remained sitting cross-legged in the dirt. "Luman nor Cali elaborated, but likely this vague threat will tip scales." Although Lenwë, in his Elven form at the time, still had his eyes shut, he could see Adharc'aon shake his head in the aggravated manner of a stag. "The widespread neutrality and peacemaking of my kin, both old and new, may be thrown into chaos, Lenwë. A time may come to take a stand. Will my Hunters be prepared?"

Since then, Lenwë had been in hawk-form and in flight. Beneath, the harbor-city of Cathair-sa-Chuan came into view as he swooped down across a cliff face. The sights and sounds of the port outside the city walls assaulted his keen senses, but still he dove downward, aiming himself like an arrow at the doorway to a two-story house. The great stone walls and the earth below rushed up to meet him, and he extended his wings to full length, catching the air with them and near halting the descent. Four feet off the ground and about as far from the doorway to the house, Lenwë felt feathers give way to hair and skin, beak break down into teeth and then be covered by flesh, wings transform to arms and talons to toes.

His pallid grey skin was laid bare to the city, and his ears did not need to be of the keen Elven sort to pick up the surprised outbursts of those who saw him shift. He paid them no mind though and strode through the open doorway, shutting it after he passed through. Even if he hadn't telepathically known Elisedd Caratacos was already there, he could smell the sea-salt emanating from his long-time friend and fellow member of the Inner Circle before ever walking in. Casually walking down the entry-hall lined with trophy-skulls of various beasts and grabbing a dusty brown cloak from a wall hook, Lenwë started upstairs.

"Lenwë, it's about time!" Elisedd's voice was somewhat gruff and could easily be taken to be displeased, but the grey-skinned elf only smiled as he donned the cloak and covered himself.

"You and I both know that you only just got your land-legs back." He cleared the last few steps and came through the doorless entryway into his study. All was just as he'd left it, if a little more dusty than last time he'd been home, books and scrolls strewn haphazardly across the table in the center of the room, bookcases lining the right wall, and Elisedd comfortably sprawled on the cot against the left wall, beneath the sole window.

The black hair that easily reached the middle of his back still wet from the sea and carelessly laid about him, Elisedd let his normally scowling lips break into a smirk. "With how slow you fly, I knew I'd have time for a quick swim." He brushed the hair from his face while he sat up, then placed his elbows on his knees and let his hands dangle boredly from there. "Ninian was here, briefly. Said she'd be back."

Lenwë nodded. He'd already known, being linked to the members of the Inner Circle telepathically. "The others are on their way as well. But it will be evening before your father and Chief gul'Rask are here. Boadicea is away, and will not likely return until after Fómhar Fola." The Headhuntress always has business.

Getting up and stretching his back and arms to full length, showing himself to be taller and more heavily built than the 6'3" elf, Elisedd asked, "Well, what do we do until then?"

"I had thought of getting a few hours sleep, if you don't mind." Lenwë stifled a yawn. It had been at least two weeks since he'd last been home. "You can stay and greet the others as they arrive, if you please."

"Hey, it's your house." Elisedd shrugged casually.


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Character Portrait: Luman and Cali Character Portrait: Asger and Tryne Character Portrait: Ulmo
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There were some among the Archaic Gods that said that the god of the seas would not be able to abide with peace for long. To be fair to them, he hadn't exactly behaved as a peaceful or tranquil deity and he still did not as many a sailor or mariner could attest. Nonetheless, since the war's end, Ulmo had been content to pursue his own interests without provoking his fellow deities. He found that he had enjoyed teaching mortals about the sea and he had laughed with delight when he saw the humans' first boat centuries ago. And he grew proud of the humans who chose him for their patron deity, gifting his Avatars with near-immortality and creating a paradise for them in the afterlife. A few even understood the sea. It simply was. It was dangerous, untamed, as was he and mortalkind, oddly enough. He approved.

At the moment, he stood on the pearly white beaches of the Isles of the Blessed even as a ball of light appeared. He recognized it as a creation of Luman's. He had respected the elder deity even as he roared in rebellion, demanding his rightful freedom.

“Something is coming. Be prepared.”

The sea god raised an eyebrow at this.

"Interesting... What will you do, young Caspian? Before, I could guide you, but now, something new is coming. Something, I feel, that neither of us have seen before."


Atalantae's docks and markets were bustling with crowds and goods as it nearly always was. It was said in the city that as long as good and people flowed through the docks and marketplaces, the city was alive. Caspian had long since grown used to the smell of spices in the air and the sun shining on its great white walls, looking as though the gods themselves had chiseled them, but that never stopped him from marveling at is size, the sheer life emanating from the city as the wind blew the smell of the sea and spices down the streets and crowd thrummed with a thousand voices bartering over the price of goods or the mariners. Today, he stood at the docks and he smiled as he saw a convoy of longboats edge into view. He admired the longboats. The craftsmanship was clearly the equal of Avuvian shipcraft despite their small size. He knew from experience that they could easily navigate rivers and lakes inland, giving their raiders the ability to strike deeper into enemy territory than one might expect.

The Akros Ekklesia had been in an uproar when he had proposed that they host a delegation from the Shattershield clan. Their peoples had a checkered past and currently, the Frostborn were warring over who among them should become the new king. Could they be trusted? Would this be seen as the Avuvians taking a position in a local civil war? In the end, Caspian's will had prevailed over those of the Ekklesia. Trade and diplomacy were important if trade routes to the North were to be maintained. Besides, he was curious about the new Avatar of the war gods. He could not suspend trade, however.

Beside him stood Themis, the Confederation's Chief Diplomat, the Sýmvoulos , and the rest of the Ekklesia who had deigned to attend along with a few military and naval officers and important merchants. Behind them, the guards were clearing a path in the streets to allow the Frostborn delegation to accompany them to the upper levels of the city. As the boats neared, heralds blew a response in their own horns.

"Your curiosity has led you to take a risk," Themis whispered. Caspian frowned but was relieved as she continued, "But I sense no deception in them."

"Interesting... What will you do, young Caspian? Before, I could guide you, but now, something new is coming. Something, I feel, that neither of us have seen before."

"Well, that is helpful," Caspian thought sarcastically even as he stood to receive the Avatar of Asger and Tryne, his long gold hair and armor glinting in the sun. He hated it when Ulmo was vague.


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Character Portrait: Kaellarak
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in His realm...

"Wretched vermin." The God of Shadows forced his voice into yet another Mortal slaughtered by the Zhiszu, His eternal servants. A new arrival, a new addition. "You belong to me now, your horrors will become the only reality you know. There is no reprieve, there is no release." His voice slithered up the spine of the new one. "Your soul will be but a pale Reflection of itself, and at the peak of despair you will be consumed." The Mortal soul tried to scream, tried to thrash and find an escape, but Kaellarak's webs held it in submission and silence. It could only see what it's new master wished it to see, it's identity, accomplishments, failures, all meant nothing now, and never would again. When the soul was broken in entirety, it would be devoured by those above.

Kaellarak melded into the webs that composed all things in His realm, turning them from silky white to oozing black, and his presence moved on, leaving his new pet to its own torment. Upward the God went, reveling in the subdued screams and cries of the subjugated ones trapped in the Lower Reflection of this great pyramid, until he passed through the center and into the Upper Reflection. His devout, his puppets strung by strands of deception, gluttons whose appetite for those below would never be sated, fruits that would be picked when they were good and ripe. Weavers, monstrous spider-things spun webs from the Upper Reflection down to the souls below, connecting the devout to those who had been broken completely, thus allowing sporadic feeding frenzies.

Still upward Kaellarak went. It was not yet the time to pluck souls for the feast. Upward until he was outside of the massive pyramid that hung precariously over nothingness, upward until he could see the thing that had caused his webs to vibrate and tense, announcing that something was here. A ball of light, blemishing the ghastly scenery of Kaellarak's realm. It hovered in a clearing relatively free of entrapping webs, casting shadows in every direction. Kaellarak approached, moving through his webs as a black sludge, and stopped before the unwelcome thing. A messenger from his lesser kin.

The Spider Deity took on a more substantial form, with some semblance of a body, leg-like appendages jutting out and reaching for nothing in particular all around him, but he continued to shift, never settling on a single shape. "Your message?" He spoke slowly and with great deliberation, as if speaking to something other than an imprisoned soul took great effort and was bothersome.

"Something is coming. Be prepared." Luman. The blightful ball of light reeked of him, and reflected his voice with disgusting perfection.

Kaellarak sneered, revealing a horribly toothy mouth, his eyes took a surer shape and brightened so much as to cast a shadow behind the messenger. He waved a clawed hand dismissively, "Go," the word rasped from his mouth, then echoed throughout the dark and web-covered world. The messenger vanished, and only then did Kaellarak's sneer widen further into an unnatural smile. What could have been laughter croaked from his massive fanged mouth and, "Finally..." He said to himself, pleasure coursing through him. It is almost time...

Daedhelon, Prince of the Dominion
Gathod Elenath, in the palace

In the throne room of the Narthanuin Daeris, the great palace of the Drow-Zhiszu Dominion, Daedhelon stood tall and proud on the left side of the Daeris' throne. His three sisters stood opposite, on the right side of the throne, Bainthaurel leering covetously at the still empty throne, Goeoleth staring boredly at the great double doors at the end of the room, and Lymernil staring intently at her brother. He hadn't been united with his dear sisters for quite some time, having recently committed himself to a deeper study of neighboring countries. Cold Maakulm, liberated Commonwealth, enchanting Arro'ell, savage Outlands. He'd of rather continued his studies than see the three heiresses to the throne again. Lymernil was still staring at him, he realized, only now she was smiling and running her tongue over her teeth.

Fortunately, the Daeris walked in from behind the throne and glared at the sisters, halting Lymernil's gaze and preventing her from, Gods-forbid, engaging Daedhelon in conversation. He suppressed a shiver threatening to run up his spine. The desires of his eldest sister were nothing he cared to dwell on.

"Beloved daughters," Daeris Manedhes had a voice that rang with benevolence, which counteracted the disgusted look on her face as she gazed upon the three young women, "How beautiful you all are." She turned in a flourish of her extravagant gown, white hair whipping at her back, and now addressed Daedhelon, "And my son, looking ever so handsome!" Although her expression did soften when she faced him, her words were still a mask for the machinations at work in her mind. Daedhelon knew that fully well, none of these royal Drow females were to be trusted.

Daedhelon smiled graciously, flashing pearly white that contrasted his ebony skin, and made to speak but Goeoleth beat him to it, "We've been waiting an eternity," her voice was dull and flat, her eyes hadn't left the two massive doors that served as entrance to the throne room, "What is this all about?" No tact, no grace. Goeoleth would have been murdered if she were the eldest sister and first in line for the throne. By mother or sister. Daedhelon fought the urge to shake his head disappointedly.

He saw the rage flash across the Daeris' face, but it was gone in an instant as she gracefully seated herself on the crystal throne. "It just so happens, sweet Goeoleth, that the Drozhisz'ahk has called an audience of us." Daedhelon could imagine the burning spite hidden by his mothers' carefully composed demeanor.

"The Drozhisz'ahk? Here?" Bainthaurel openly expressed the surprise all the royal family felt. "Why?" To show that he is the true master of this Dominion, why else? Daedhelon thought, but kept his silence. He let no expression cross his regal face, only let his eyes flit from Bainthaurel to their queen mother.

Composure still perfect, she answered kindly, "We shall see shortly, my dear." Not a minute passed, but in the following silence it felt like an hour, before the massive double doors parted. And enter the Drozhisz'ahk. On his six thick legs, he strode head and shoulders above the royal guard that lined the throne room, moving almost casually, yet so quickly it could have been an attack. Six silvery irises stared ahead unblinking, unwavering, uninterested in all but the Daeris in her throne. They called it a hybrid, but the Drozhisz'ahk was something else entirely. It was a piece for Kaellarak to move around freely, something with no questions or hesitations, no past or future except for the God of Shadows.

"My Daeris," The voice of Drozhisz'ahk both rumbled and rasped through the great hall, the emphasis on his first word causing a shiver Daedhelon could not prevent this time. She belongs to him. We all do. "It has been too long since I've seen..."

Unnaturally quickly, the Drozhisz'ahk was already at the foot of the throne, looking down on the elevated Daeris. Despite his appearance and words, Manedhes was still perfectly composed, and stared back up at the Avatar of Kaellarak without flinching or hesitating. "Drozhisz'ahk, a pleasure as always." She smiled graciously, but did not stand from her seat. An uncomfortable silence siezed the room for a second, but the Daeris broke it before it could gain any precedent. "To what, do we owe the great privilege of this visit?"

The six black eyes blinked consecutively, deliberately, the bottom pair first and the top pair last, and then the Drozhisz'ahk lifted both his hands and extended his fingertips, as if to encompass all the world. "Kaellarak's will, my Daeris." Daedhelon, from his angle to the left of the throne, caught a glimpse of a venomous fang curled behind Drozhisz'ahk's cheek. He heard air rushing into the lung slits on the sides of the Avatar's rear segment, the abdominal tagmata of a spider, and even as he inhaled he continued speaking, "And this..." He tilted his head with a sudden twitch, "Visit... Will be an extended one. I will stay here, in your palace." He nodded self-assuredly, more to himself than anyone else. Many of the guardsmen were staring at the back of the Drozhisz'ahk. His proximity to the Daeris and the way he carried himself must have been making them nervous. "We have much to discuss, privately." His long legs suddenly carried him to the right of the throne, nearly trampling the three sisters had they not stumbled out of the way, "Tomorrow."

That was the last word he said before the sound of his scurrying legs vanished him into the palace. "All of you, go!" His mother commanded. Daedhelon knew her well enough to see that she had been unnerved, and that made her furious. His sisters all departed at once through a side passage, Lymernil giving her brother one last, long look, and the guardsmen filed out the great double doors. Daedhelon made to leave as well, but he knew she would stop him. "Not you, Dae." He bit his lip before turning to face the Daeris, and took a breath. Silently and obediently, he turned to look at her. "Come here."

Daeris Manedhes sat back in her throne, and slowly parted her legs while lifting her gown with one hand, the other gesturing for Daedhelon to fall to his knees. "Yes, my Daeris." Her fingernails dug into the back of his neck as he went about fulfilling her desires...


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(^that was interesting)


The keep fell almost 3 hours after the Scarlets had arrived, per instruction they had stayed at a range and acted as snipers, picking off any foot soldier foolish enough to step out of the doors of the keep. When the battle had ended the lord who had hired him called him in to his tent, the lord of the keep kneeled there battered and bruised. "Well, Mr. Hawk, we were just speaking about you" he said, motioning towards the defeated lord. "He wanted to know why so many of his men and archers suddenly lost their will to fight with out any clear reason, I told him and he didn't believe me when I said I had brought the famous band of gypsy sharpshooters along to aid in my siege, for a price of course." he pointed towards a few small chests that were have open, filled with gold coin and a few of the defeated lords jewels. One gem caught his eye and Rin bent down and plucked it up to find it attached to a ring. The defeated lord looked at it and a look of despair came across his face. Rin knelt down and the defeated lord, "What importance does this ring hold to you?" he asked, in a gentle tone. The lord spoke, " I-it was my wife's ring, I gave it to her when I married her". Rin stood up and rummaged through the chests until he found the lords matching ring. He turned towards his employer and spoke, "He is of no use to you, I will take him and add him to my clan as a worker, as long as you have nothing against it." His employer simply shrugged and replied, "Do what you will with him, he is yours now." Rin turned and knelt towards the defeated lord and said, " If you truly wish to have these rings back, then do what I tell you until we get back to my camp, understand?" the lord nodded and Rin helped him to his feet. They went for the exit of the tent when Rinen stopped and spoke towards him employer, "I will send a few of my men for the payment." When he and the lord left the camp and were walking towards his own, he stopped and unsheathed his dagger. At the sight, the lord began to tear up. Rin saw this and smiled just a bit. "look my friend, we gypsys do not believe in slavery, so im letting you go, but I suggest you stay with me and my men until we get back to our home." he said wile cutting the lords bounds off. The lord looked at him and said, "thank you so much, I owe you tremendously." Rin replied, " Aye, you do friend, also, here, I recommend you keep them around your neck for now. " he said and tossed the rings to the lord. "Now, I must go attend to a important matter, go strait to my camp and tell the guards that the captain sent you and that he says you are one of them now." The lord nodded and began a full on sprint towards the Scarlets camp. Rinen walked in the direction of a small thicket of trees and smiled. "All in a days work" he thought.


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Queen of Beasts

Lamina sat in her throne of obsidian and bone. Her skeleton wings spread out to her sides, hanging loosely in boredom. She rested her chin in the palm of her clawed hand, the fiery glow of her eyes staring distastefully at the scene before her. Her commanders were arguing once more, discord filling the air like the drone of locust swarm. Irrelevant arguments and accusations were flung from monster to monster. The Northern Beasts thought the Southern Scavengers were cowards. The Black Pond Coven accused the Great Oak Coven of being weak willed and worn out. The Fallen Star were cross with the Dark Savages because their rotting flesh stunk up their camp when the Savages forced the Star to shelter them. Despite all the points each of them were trying to make, Lamina seriously doubted that even one of them had been heard and understood. “Shut up.” The Queen of the Nefai spoke, rising from her seat. The room went quiet. “I don’t care about your squabbles and feuds and trivial little fights. Honestly, I couldn’t care less what you do to each other. But-” She narrowed her eyes. “How can we protect the Black Forest and the Nefai from outside forces, when we’re too busy tearing out each other’s throats?” She walked forward until her thighs leaned against the stone table where her commanders sat. “I don’t need to tell you that the hunters that serve the Horned God have been more aggressive of late. They’re abandoning the natural order between hunter and beast and now, they are quickly losing their honor and quickly losing my respect.” Cassis, a large hideous beast, barked in agreement as he nodded his ugly head. “A whole tribe of Northern Beasts, slaughtered by those so-called hunters. Not even a big tribe. Not even a fierce tribe. They were shepherds.”

Atropos Eyesnatcher, a hooded hag with pale hair and red eyes, played with her metallic claws as she spoke. “They never showed any real interest in hags before, I suppose our heads aren’t very tasteful when they’re mounted on walls. However, I heard that the Artrabi burned half of a coven just because they could ” Belladonna, a hag with golden hair and skin like marble, looked at Atropos with distrust. “Did this coven practice any dark arts that harmed the Artrabi?” Atropos glared at her fellow hag. “Would it matter?” Lamina rolled her eyes and placed a finger to her lips, silencing the hags. “Regardless of what tribes or coven you represent, the Artrabi should be your biggest threat, not each other.” She walked back to her throne and sat back down. “I understand peace among all the Nefai is difficult. We’ve been fighting and struggling with each other since the days of the First Mother. But when she was taken by the Hunter, the Nefai banded together to show the children of the Horned God what real predators are like. Let us do so again, my brothers and sisters.” A sense of understanding came over the room, each of the commanders suddenly looking ashamed for their actions. Lamina sighed. “You may all leave, except for you, Belladonna. We need to discuss some important items.”

As the other left, the hag walked up to her queen and bowed. “How may I help you, my Grace?” Lamina smiled. “It stills feel strange, after all these years to hear you call me that, Witchmother.” Belladonna smiled. “And it’s strange for me, after all these years, to look at you and see a queen, not the little Oakborn that I raised.” The Queen laughed. “That’s actually what I wanted to speak with you about. The Oakborn from the spring, how do they fare? Are they grown?” Belladonna sighed. “They grow at different rates. Some will need many years to grow, like the humans and like you at one time. Others will be leaving the coven within a week. Others will need until the winter. Why?” Lamina took her former caretakers’ hand. “I need as many warriors as I can obtain if we are to protect ourselves.” Belladonna shook her head. “You have many great warriors. Even if these Oakborn were grown and strong, they are untrained and unseasoned. They’ve known nothing but the forest.” “Monsters don’t need much training, dear Witchmother. Hunting comes naturally to us.” “But war does not. Do not confuse the two, my queen.” Lamina sighed. “True.” She paused. “Would you mind reading some omens tonight? And also sending some spies to the Artrabi?” The hag bowed. “Of course, Queen of Beasts.”


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He went hunting, taking nothing more then his rifle, some shot and powder charges, and his knife. He stalked the forest nearest to the camp for some time before he saw some game. Well, he heard it first. It came as a low wailing that got louder the more he headed west, away from the camp. When he came to the source, he found a deer, a buck, it had been shot in the leg with an arrow and apparently left to bleed out

He unslung his rifle and pulled the hammer back. When he got closer he felt a chill go down his spine. The arrow was Dryad made and that meant there were hunters in the area. His thoughts were confirmed when three dryads jumped down from their hiding spots in tree line. When he saw this, the reality of the situation hit him, this wasn't a hunting party, this was a trap.

He heard shuffling behind him and looked back to see a fourth Dryad envelop the deer in a light, then see the deer jump to its feet and prance away. The fourth dryad then joined her brothers and they formed a square around him, closing him in.

At this point, Rinen slung his rifle and stood strait, all the wile a sly smile slipped across his face. He brought his right and up and showed it to who he believed to be the hunting parties leader and said in his old tong, " Ego draconis ignis indignation mea, et cavete little dryads"

He then snapped his fingers, and the little flame ignited and began to grow...

hint: its latin


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Character Portrait: LiesseiL
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#, as written by Zalgo

The future read, countless fates foretold in the weave of lines.

LiesseiL looked down at it all. It knew already that a sphere of light was to make it's way towards it's domain. It would never make it through the penumbra, the obscuring shadow hid it's mark so it would lose it's way. It already knew what the light had to say however. It already knew what the light was warning it of as well. It had been watching for a while. It had always known this event was coming to pass even though it was a rather recent development.

It was a strange sort of development. Back when not even the first of the archaic gods was born it had seen the lines stretch out to this point and beyond. Back then the lines were whole, yet now they are not. Quite the quandary indeed. Both past instances and future spans of time were eaten at by an unnatural force. The phantasmal lines of time were eaten ate by what resembled an invisible flame, something that produced no light, no smoke and no heat but blackened the edges of the holes it's made all the same. This worried it.

This was nothing even resembling ordinary. A destructive force which seemed to be intelligently destroying points in the lines in order to obfuscate itself. How it was even able to harm the fabric of time in such a manner was unknown simply because the process itself was lost in the resulting dissolution. It had been watching this happen for all it's existence and if whatever it was thought it could simply undo the possibilities it had been working towards all this time without any resistance then it would be sorely mistaken.

Since the others weren't given a scope of what level of danger the warning foretold the lines showed a high number of branches where they underestimate the threat ahead. It also saw that soon it would be visited by those who do take this oncoming danger seriously. It didn't like being seen ordinarily as it made for more complications further down the lines which made altering the path harder. It made a plan to inform it's Dream Walkers to see to it that it isn't disturbed. It was going to be quite busy setting it's plan into motion and it wasn't the time for interruptions, at least not on the paths it was aiming for.

If they were going to survive this, the path furthest from the burns would be the route it seeks.

Elsewhere in Slumberland

Priest King GhodohG

In the darkened temple halls from a flawlessly smooth surface as black as obsidium a pedestal rose. A perfect golden being with sharp horns like that of a bull coming from his forehead and back faded into existence as though it were always there, just unseen by the naked eye. It's three blazing red eyes opened, taking in the surrounding temple forum. Three other pedestals rose up and three other beings entered the world of dreams.

The first being was a woman who's body was molded in the form of utter Laseian perfection, her entire person a single flawless ruby. Her eyes glowed a deep azure blue which seemed to almost be passages into an entirely different realm from this one.

The second being was a strange yellow quadrupedal creature who's form could only be described as mildly resembling that of a giraffe's. On each of it's four feet were two large claws like that of a lizards, each set of claws large enough to be able to disembowel a hill giant in a single swipe. It's skin was covered in sickly yellow scales and jutting from it's shoulders were two impressively large quartz crystals. For it's head it had what was the permutation of a lizard's head and the caricature of a Laseian's face. It's mouth was perpetually twisted into a hateful scowl that was so long and so deep it almost went off it's face entirely. It's eyes were a manic spiraling yellow and red color which gave it a constant look of mania, it's brow furrowed in frustration at all times. It's head parted at the top to form two large twisted horns which continually arced electricity between them.

The third being was an ebbing dark fog which concealed the figure beneath it all. All that could be seen through the darkness was a black skull with two distant points of red light deep within.

"And so we gather within the sacred halls of our holy temple to give praise unto The Great Dream Maker. May it continue to maintain this sanctuary of the mind lest the world no longer dream." GhodohG spoke aloud the prayer of LiesseiL to the rest of the Priest-kings. "Amen." They all prayed in unison. This was their ritual to offer thanks to their patron before every meeting. "So begins the meeting of the Priest-kings." GhodohG confirmed, beginning the actual meeting part of this gathering.

"The first matter to be addressed is of heresy." GhodohG put forth the first issue in their agenda to discuss. The great yellow beast gave a loud hiss after he spoke of heresy. "The false prophet has been captured. He was executed as law demands for such crime, by The Mind's Cleansing Foci. The back of his skull was seared as the light of day concentrated through the focusing lenses burned through his eye sockets and brain." The large man beast informed them.

"He may have had followers. Have those who heard his words been thoroughly scoured?" The woman of red asked it. "It is still underway. The people who were witnesses to his proclamations were many and my mind sweepers must go through without omitting a single step of the process in order to ensure thorough examinations." The yellow beast excused it's lack of results. Their emotions loomed over the large creature. The woman of red's feelings were that of scolding, a feeling as though he was slacking in his administrative duties while GhodohG's feelings were that of acceptance and understanding accompanied by a sense of urgency, a desire to see that the matter be dealt with soon. The shrouded skull however was silent, it's emotions a mystery.

"The second matter to be addressed is of KeklelkeK." GhodohG raised the second matter to be discussed.

"Yes. Their ways are well out of line our system, our traditions." The yellow beast growled with clear contempt for the shadow cloaked skull and his method of managing his city. "Allowing outsiders a place of residence within our cities. If this level of flexibility with the mandate continues I fear it will progress to the point where non-psionics will start mating with the gifted, cutting our potency with their inferior bloodlines."

"I find it difficult to not share ZukuZ concerns. You've granted outsiders far too much freedom and have been using the purchase of outsider's psytanium as an umbrella to conceal this subversion." The ruby woman spoke with what could only be interpreted as spite. Her long translucent tongue weaved between the rows of her teeth, tracing lightly over the misericorde like tips of her gemstone teeth while she waited for his response.

The skull shrouded in shadows stood in silence for a time which seemed to drag on forever before his low, whisper like voice emerged from the depths of his unseen throat. "I understand your concerns. Most of you may see the income of psytanium as an excuse for my relatively liberal minded decrees regarding relations to outside nations, I will not deny. In the interest of propagating better relations with our suppliers I make minor amends with the purpose of nurturing the flow of psytanium into Lasei. Is it not the very underlying motto of LokoL that the strength of our entire civilization lies directly in proportion to the amount of psytanium we control, AociticoA?"

The ruby woman frowned, irritated that he'd use her city's own philosophy as an excuse for his leniency. "LokoL can easily supply our kingdom with the psytanium it need to be greater than any other. Your supply of psytanium pales in comparison to the mines and it shows no signs of slowing down." She retorted in a huff, starting to take the shadow laden skull's smug tone as one of insult.

"Enough. We mustn't allow ourselves to be divided by mere disagreements as we are united in devotion to The Great Dream Maker. We stand before each other not to undermine each others efforts but to see that our kingdom does not fall out of line with The Maker's wishes. Now, RodomodoR is right in that further increasing our psytanium supplies is of great concern. Much like LokoL however there should be room for compromise. No one aspect is to be ignored and while limited efforts to cooperate with outside are acceptable we must remain true to our heritage, to uphold the ways which were set in place back in the days of the prophets. Is that acceptable, RodomodoR?" GhodohG interjected, interrupting the squabbling before it started in order to maintain order. He knew the consequences that would follow if the priest-kings were to start undermining each other and lose sight of their true purpose. He did not want to see the prophesy of VosksoV enact itself as result of their ignorance towards higher matters.

"Always so keen to seek the middle ground. I find that absence of passion to be not of my liking." ZukuZ hissed his words as it lowered it's large head down, furrowing it's already arched eyebrows in petulance.

"Do you challenge me?" GhodohG turned to ZukuZ, his mighty golden arms crossed as he stared down ZukuZ. ZukuZ could only groan as he remembered the last time he challenged GhodohG to a mind duel. It was a mighty fight indeed but his loss embarrassed him, sundering his confidence. Ever since that night he's always resented GhodohG but he is too afraid to risk such a wound to his pride a second time. "Split my hairs. I do not challenge you GhodohG, you already know why."

GhodohG tried to refrain from feeling narcissistic but it was difficult not to be a little vainglorious when flaunting his superiority, even if it was for the purpose of maintaining order for the well being of the priesthood. "So RodomodoR, we need your answer." GhodohG repeated his proposal to him in order to confirm his verdict.

"Yes. I'll see towards obliging to your compromise." He had held out long enough, finally giving a direct answer to them.

"Then this meeting is adjourned. The hour of moon's height grows near and the Rite of the Crescent Moon needs to be attended." GhodohG wrapped the meeting up seeing as how their main issues for this month had been addressed. There were more issues to discuss but those were allocated to a later discussion. For now, they all gave their prayers unto LiesseiL in the hopes that it may answer them some day before setting off to conduct their retrospective masses.


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 Through every forest, desert, tundra, mountain, and in the depths of every ocean Tryne wandered. The frontiers that man found dangerous, he took his daily strolls here as if they were but public park. For he was the Bear, the Desert Lion, The Snow Wolf , the Kraken, that prowled in those areas. He was the very things that man considered powerful, fearsome, deadly and he was ambition, he was potential. The lesser God of Conquest walked through these places in the mortal realm in search for a hunter, a wanderer, a traveler, an adventurer, anyone he happened to cross paths with in order to test their mettle. It was at this same time, whilst he was a mighty Bear wandering the edges of his territory in the forests of the Dyrads, that he recieved the warning.

"Something is coming. Be prepared.".

The God of Conquest took a moment, standing up straight on his hind legs and took several breathes, sniffing the air, trying to catch a scent. There were various scents none of particular interest to him and that brought up the question, "what was coming...that a God would be concerned and warn his kin?".

 He fell forward to all forward and ran back to his den and continued to ponder, go wonder. It made him excited. What was the threat? Was it something physical, spiritual, or was this something beyond them...something that they could not foresee? How would they overcome it and more importantly could they? At that moment after asking himself that final question he thought to the mortals..."could they over come it?".

Tryne was confident in the mortals, he had seen them combat things infinitely greater than them, and win. He had seen them build things that were massive, but they were erected and they have stood against the test of time to this day. It was amazing how far they had come, how much they had conquered. It often times made him ask himself.

"Are they not Gods with all that they have done, can do, and will accomolish?".

 A question that he nor no one could truly answer now but one day he hoped to know, to witness it for himself. The Bear ran into his den and the Tundra Hawk took to the sky. He flew over the mountains and dived down to an altitude where he could see the battle beneath, The army of Shattershield returning from battle, the army of Bearclaw routing. He flew further to the northern peaks and saw Stormcloak preparing for the upcoming raids and then he went to the Eastern coast and saw Wolfang, boarding the ships of merchants and traders, taking their valuables and goods, their men to be slaves, and their women for their entertainment.

It was a land divided, a family against itself. And a house against itself could not stand but Tryne had confidence in the one that his sister and himself had chosen to meet this challenge. And with that he turned to the West and flew out to Atalantae where he would spectate, and provide guidance (if she proved worthy).


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The dryads weren't to hard to handle. Once he had shown them his pyromancy, they backed off and rethought their positions.

It was when they came after him, that he had to fight them. The first two were essay to take down, and he didn't even kill them. The elder male was a bit to handle and even landed a few cuts on Ren. He fell pretty fast when the poison on the Renin's blade set in. He then waited for the girl, only for her not to show, so renin left the thicket and rejoined his men. His only fear was how he was going to explain to the nature goddess how a rough team of hunters tried and failed to kill him.


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Astrid Shatter-Shield

Many men and women got off the ships, only a small detail remained on each ship to ensure that they were not tampered with whilst everyone was gone. However out of all those who walked off the longboats, only a chosen few were to stay with Astrid. As was customary they all got off their respective boats by order of least in rank to highest. The Merkismathrs were the first to stand before the Avuvian delegation, then after them came the Huskarls or captains of the ships. After them came the Jarl's Kaupmaðr and about 3 Skalds. Lastly the two Herse's beneath Astrid's father walked into the fray and of course after them came Astrid.

The young Northswoman was curious, and wasted no time in making her way to the front of the group, her lessers making an opening after some had been shoved aside. When at the front she took a few steps forward and then examined the Avuvians before her. They were...different. Those in the military wore uniforms which gave them an aurora of importance and discipline, while the politicians of the group were without a doubt wealthy and well cared for. They were men and women of refine, who lived comfortably in their homes with their luxuries. Meanwhile the Frostborn seemed to have been painted with the same stroke of the brush, they were all wearing leather or fur, no metal save for their shields and even them most had shields made of animal hides. The men seemed to prefer not to cut their hair at all and thick but somewhat attended facial hair was the norm for them. The women were not too different from the men, save of course for the facial hair. They seemed more inclined to getting tattoos and other markings on their faces and bodies then the men but the resemblance was there. Being from a land where everyone must fight, they displayed this well but despite their similarities to one another Astrid stood out.

Surpassing all the women in height, and some of the men, was Astrid, still coming up with her own opinions of the Avuvians. She was young and fit, the leather and furs that made up her clothing hide her body from all, and she was beautiful. However she was not the kind of beauty that the Avuvians were accustomed to seeing. Her hair was brushed but unkept for the most part, left in braids to ease management, her skin was not made moist from bathing in exotic oils from distant lands, and her lips were not painted. She did not walk holding her child in one hand and her husband's coinpurse in the other. Her stance was not passive but dominant and the look on her face was that a woman who was convinced that she could kill you if she wanted but choose not to. Out of all those aged and rugged Danes before the Avuvian delegation, the youngest of them, was the one who appeared like they belonged in command and they were.

" You must be Caspain...". She spoke, her voice loud enough for all to hear and clear. One of the Champions behind her stepped forward and handed her an Axe which Astrid inspected before offering it to Caspain. " I am Astrid, Daughter of Jarl Belgruf. Avatar of Asger and Tryne. King Asmund used this Axe to slay the pirates that plagued both our waters. I offer it to you as a reminder of the friendship our people shared once, and the friendship we seek to restore here.".


She was beautiful, Caspian noted, beautiful in a way which differed from the women he knew among his own people. Her voice came out clear and strong despite the murmuring if his delegation and he was handed a familiar axe.

"I know it. You honour me with its possession," he noted. He handled it, standing before her in bright armor. His hair was long, but his face was clean-shaven after the manner of his own people.

He entrusted the axe to a guard captain and clasped her forearm.

"Come, Atalantae is at your service, Lady Astrid. Let it never be said that our hospitality was wanting. Tonight, we will hold a feast in your honour."

Astrid Shatter-Shield

Now the sight of a clean shaven face was not alien to Astrid. She had seen many when she embarked on the yearly raids amongst those unfortunate enough to have become a target and amongst her own people, all the children had clean faces. It was the first time that she had thought a man with a clean shaven face was attractive but this she kept to herself, there was a time for such thoughts and it was surely not now. This feast came as a pleasant, although inconvenient surprise. Such an event was something, she felt, all of the men deserved to enjoy, and she had just sent the majority of them on shore leave. At the same time, her father had voluntold her to yet another task of political intrigue in the mainland. Jarl Belgruf had dispatched messengers about two weeks ago, saying that Astrid would host a summit of sorts to discuss trade with the Shattershield clan to gain an advantage over the others and of course, see how far the tale of their civil war had spread. It was a matter most urgent and she was to attend to it immediately after this meeting, ensuring that all arrangements were made in due time. This courtesy that the Avatar of Ulmo did her would surely cost her some much needed time.

Annoyed by this, Astrid looked over her shoulder and in Norse, ordered the Houseskarlars to sally forth into the City and muster all of their men. She then turned to Caspain, eyed his delegation, who continued to whisper and murmur to one another as this all went on (something she thought was very rude), and answered him. "How generous of you. I will need some time to gather my men for this occasion and surely you will need to show these individuals behind me to their quarters. In the mean time why don't you show me your city and it's people. The only time I have met you Avuvians is when you stand at the receiving end of my spear."


"Of course, there are many sights I would love to show you. Why don't you accompany me to the shipyards. They are quite a sight," Caspian offered.

Astrid Shatter-Shield

In response to his offer, Astrid took a step forward towards him and from among the group one of the Merkimathrs moved to her. Astrid shook her head and motioned with her hand to stay with the group, something that obviously did not set well with her. The daughter of Jarl Belgruf went onward and moved past Caspian, as if to lead the way but then halted and looked over her shoulder to the Avatar of Ulmo. "It's hard to follow someone who isn't leading."


Caspian laughed at her words, "Then come and see."

Ignoring the muffled protests of the other noble gentlemen and ladies of Atalantae, Caspian led her down the docks. He breathed in the salt air, the smell of home happily. Around them, sailors and merchants moved, embarking and disembarking on to ships with goods from the four corners of the world. The air smelled of spices and incense, two particular luxury items that had recently started to be grown in Gela and Icharus. A merchant passed with a baskefull of freshly caught fish. Caspian grinned.

"You should not worry about arriving late to your meeting. I wouldn't have permitted the feast if it would delay you. I plan on attending myself. Our magi, myself included, can summon winds for a period of time with myself lasting the longest... And of course, among the navy, that phrase turns into a double entendre."

They arrived at the shipyard. Cranes moved piles of lumber into place as a scores of nailed pieces of wood together, all under the supervision of various architects. The ships ranged from small fishing dingys to large war ships armed with multiple ballistae. He grinned.

"Our greatest treasures."


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The next job the Scarlets took was one of a more personal type from...well.. Rinen himself. This was a solo job for him, something hed been meaning to do for a long time to settle a bet with an old Dane.

He had arrived in the Avuvian port city renown for its ship yards, the actual name had escaped him as he had not been there for a long time. His mission was to, well first meet the child of the great juarl Shatter-shield and send her his condolences about her father, (he was dead, at least to Rinen knowledge), as well as drop off a letter explaining to the young shatter-shield who this strange gypsy was, and that he would, as requested by a bet made by her father, steal something from her in the time she was there. Of course it wouldn't tell her about him and her father fighting in a few battles and them being old friends. It also wouldn't tell her that he was in fact the avatar to the god Norack, or that he was a vary...powerful...pyromancer.

He had set up at a spot just west of the docks were Astrid and the king had met and had fallowed them, at range, as they left towards the shipyards.


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He is angry. That is the only word that could describe what he is feeling. As he sattles his horse, Obsolete, Malice Savvory could only think of the unfairness of it all...just because Matilda Wonder is in a higher place than he is. She is a woman, a weak woman, while he is one of the strongest of Isle Nequin. He is just putting her into her rightful place beneath him, beneath Oriander Nequin. But the Great King fails to recognize the rightful act. He ignores it with a cool indifference and a calculating eye. He must think that women and men are equal. Malice knows the truth. Women are weak creatures, who use cunning and trickery to survive.

And that is when the thoughts of treachery break into his mind. "Why don't I kill her? Him?" Malice mutters under his breath. He could only think of their flesh on his blade, the life draining from their hearts... Malice laughs, "What am I talking about? Why would I ever do that?"

The magic holding Malice Savvory in line takes affect. While Malice has the ability to over throw most normal magic bindings, the Olde Magicke is much, much stronger. Created by the first Magister Wondrous to keep herself and the general in check. This magic would never run out if there was a Nequin crowned as king. Olde Magicke that changes the mind, makes Malice forget his treacherous thoughts.

So Malice forgets.


She is angry. That is the only word that could describe what she is feeling. As she goes on with her duties, Matilda tries to ignore the thoughts crossing her mind. The thoughts of murder, of killing. She could understand why Oriander Nequin sent Malice Savvory, a pig of a man, to Dervin. It is to distance him from her. To keep her from killing him, because he knows that she could and would. The thing she does not understand, though, is why the Great King keeps Malice Savvory as his general, as his lead strategist. Malice Savvory is a brute of a man, the centre of everything males represent. Oriander Nequin destroys Malice Savvory with a cold rage and a brutal hand. He must think that men and women are equal. But Matilda knows the truth. She knows that man is weak-minded, stupid, much more prone to base instincts than the women that should control them, guide them.

That is when the thought of treachery enters her mind. "Why don't I just kill them?" Matild says airlessly. She could only think of their heads disappearing under the weight of her magic, their bodies rotting from the inside... Matilda shakes her head, "What am I thinking? Why would I ever do that?"

Olde Magicke is strong magic. Much stronger than Matilda Wonder. The times she has tried to undo the magic holding her left her with many scars. The magic that controls Matilda and Malice had only grown stronger each time she fought against it. And fighting the magic that binds her is the only thing she could do to fight against...what is she thinking about again? Matilda has forgotten the thoughts of treachery that plague her when she is in close proximity to Malice Savvory.

So Matilda forgets.


She is in love with the one they call the Great King, a name she knows he despises. It is funny, to her, to see him embarrassed when she calls him that. She is the only one who can cause these reactions. It is because he truly loves her, and she truly loves him. She grins, knowing the power she has over him. The power called love.

Erin Teach is not one for extravagance. Oriander Nequin, also, detests anything that is not needed. That is why she is the Pirate Queen, and he the Great King. She only buys the best weapons, food for days, and repairs for her ship. He keeps a stockpile of everything, ready for anything.

One would be surprised to know that she could show emotion beyond anger. She looks at Oriander Nequin with eyes of lust. She kisses him harshly, conveying her love. She teases him, only to show that she cares. To her, he is perfect. To him, she is perfect. But today she feels a slight disconnection. Like he's there, but not. Her thoughts break as he runs a pleasurable hand across her body.

So Erin forgets herself in a world of pleasure.

Oriander Nequin

The minds of Malice Savvory and Matilda Wonder confuse him. Oh, he understands their wants, their beliefs. Malice, a sexist fool who has no desire to see women in any place of power. Matilda, an extreme feminist who has no desire to se men in a place of power. And he has felt it. He has felt the thoughts before they disappear from their minds. The hatred and utter rage. He has also felt the failures of Matilda Wonder. He receives the same scars, but he hides them just like her. He supposes he could tell her to stop, but it is much more interesting to see her fail against the chains of Olde Magicke.

The Olde Magicke that runs through his veins. Yet, he does not understand how the Olde Magicke makes Matilda and Malice act when near each other. The magic is strongest when they are close together, yet more volatile. This is what confuses him. The Great King realizes that his thought are not yet need to the matters of the past, but to the present. He focuses on Erin. To him, she is perfection even without the eye.

He loses himself in the pleasure.


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Character Portrait: Adharc'aon
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Elisedd Caratacos
In the waters around the Crescent Isles

Today was the day. Free reign given to the devoted of Adharc'aon to hunt Men indiscriminantly. Fómhar Fola had begun. Killing the criminals of Slabhra Prison and making the Commonwealth a better place was a privilege to Elisedd. The filth were given this one chance to escape the Crescent Isles on this day, and it was a hunter's duty to deny them that chance. If a convict escapes, he is forgiven. If he does not, he dies. Such is the decree of Adharc'aon on the day of the Blood Harvest.

In the form of a fourteen foot mako, the thought excited Elisedd beyond imagining. He'd been purposely starving his mako form the past three days so that the savagery ahead would come that much more easily. The way the shark's mind tried to overpower the man's mind was fascinating, and thrilling to him. Adharc'aon's hunters were taught never to lose control over their beast form, never to give in completely to the primal desires of feasting, fighting, and breeding. But Elisedd was an expert at walking the fine line, at maintaining his human mind while giving over bodily control to the more apt animal mind. A man in beast form, even after lifelong practice, could never move as naturally as the beast itself. The trick to being a good shapeshifter was letting the animal within oneself take a measure of control.

These waters were Elisedd's true love, let his father and brother be clumsy and cumbersome on land. His joy was inexplicable, how fortunate he was that Adharc'aon had deemed him to have an affinity for the Circle of the Sea out of so many others. His gratitude and love for his God always peaked when he was in the water like this. He wove his way through thick kelp forests, his bestial senses in complete control, his human intelligence only providing moderate guidance. The mako was his favorite, Lenwë had even chosen the mako for his own sea form on his suggestion. As compared to others, the mako was smarter, it could learn patterns much more quickly than its' cousins. It also relied more on sight than other sharks, which was easy for the human mind to meld with. With his senses he could hear small crustaceans on the seafloor hidden behind thick kelp, feel the movements of fish fleeing from him. But he had no interest in small game today.

He contorted his body and swerved upward, speeding towards the surface, weaving between other shark-men crowding into the waters around and inbetween the Crescent Isles, then broke through the waves. He flew up into the air some twenty feet, taking in the scenery. Hunters were gathered all across the mainland-side shores of the Isles, readying their weapons or shifting into their beast forms. A horn resounded, echoing across the fin-filled water. Roars and howls followed, the excitement building in the same way amongst all the Hunters gathered. Men provided a different thrill than Beasts. Especially these Men, desperate for their freedom, their burning desire to escape feeding the fire of life in each of their hearts. Plus the apprehension, they knew what was coming just as well as the Hunters, as many of the prisoners had once been Hunters.

Elisedd fell back into the water, salty brine crashing back over his body. He dove beneath the crowd of ravenous shark-men, making his way towards the narrow and shallow channels of sea that broke the Crescent Isles apart. Slabhra prisoners would have to cross these channels to make it to one tip of the Isles or the other, and Elisedd would be waiting in the form of a hungry mako. At this time, rope ladders would be being dropped down into the Pit for the convicts to climb up. He still had a moment to take in the environment, to see where the best places for the runners to cross would be, and position himself to strike from below. For a mako, attacking from below was a common tactic, even when the prey was another shark, perhaps especially then.

Elisedd had gotten into position more quickly than most of the other shark-men, the mako's speed winning out against the others, but no prisoners had made it this far from the Pit yet anyway, of if they had then none had yet gotten brave enough to try and cross the water. The water was getting crowded now, he could hardly see the waning light of sunset through all the various breeds of shark swimming around. Three great whites cruised the surface, dorsal fins jutting up out of the sea. They were too large and clumsy in this cramped space to turn effectively though, and had to swim out of the channel then loop back around to go through it again, which was specifically why Elisedd had chosen the mako form over the white.

Finally, he heard the water break, and the awkward flailing of human limbs in it, followed shortly by a violent frenzy of shark-men ripping the poor fool apart. Several other splashes followed, and Elisedd slowly went towards the source of the sounds, staying close to the seafloor. These runners were made short work of, then suddenly all the world above broke into chaos. Limbs and faces were everywhere, some of them already bleeding, enticing his shark nostrils. Arrows were chasing the prisoners into the water, the claw-men and other hunters were already there above. Runners had no choice but to try their luck crossing the channels.

One of the great whites tore a man in half, turning all the water in his wide wake crimson. Elisedd's mako mind was trembling with excitement and fierce hunger. Now he saw his chance. Breaking into full speed at a second's notice, he charged towards the surface and closed his jaws on the midriff of one desperate runner. His velocity carried himself and the now screaming man out of the water at least ten feet, where Elisedd shook him violently, spraying blood about in arcs before detaching a huge chunk from between his targets hip and ribcage.

He fell back into the water and lost track of his mark, swallowing the piece he had taken whole and then snapping at an arm or leg that broke the water near his head, taking it off at the joint. The narrow channel was now nothing more than a flurry of white and red waters churning from the feeding frenzy taking place. The scent and taste of blood filled him entirely, maddened his shark mind and invigorated his human mind. He was bathing in death, all in the name of the Horned God, and it was delightful, just as it was every year. His eyes were basically useless now, except for in extremely close proximity. At this point runners would start getting through the channel, taking advantage of the discord and the lack of visibility in the murky red water.

His mako mind didn't want to give up what control it had gained, but now was the time. Elisedd swam down as low as he could, then spun about and stormed toward the surface again, knocking aside a smaller mako before flying through the air towards the shore of the northern Isle. His body contorted and compressed down from fourteen feet to six, his sleek, agile, streamlined form becoming gangly and awkward, skin turning from rough to fair and frail, and long black hair sprouting from his head and clinging to his still wet frame.

He drew the axe from his side, sliding it's handle smoothly from the ring that held it on his waist, then fell upon his next target. The criminal was haggard, soaked in crimson brine, unkempt beard and hair dripping from his recent crossing of the channel. He looked up in utter shock at Elisedd, plummeting down towards him with axe upraised, wet strands of hair flailing out behind him. The bearded man raised his arms to try and protect his face, but to no avail. Elisedd fell with such speed and ferocity that the axe cleaved clean through his wrist and into his forehead, ending the escapee abruptly. Elisedd pressed a bare foot against the man's head and dislodged his axe, and laughed merrily.

"Fómhar Fola!" The cry rose up amongst the Hunters on the Isles, nearly drowning out the sounds of the frenzy in the channels. Elisedd joined his voice to the cry, "Fómhar Fola!" Just as his cry ended, he felt something grasp his ankle, then pull his leg out from under him and his face met the sand. His axe was ripped out of his grip and the grunt of a man told him that his own axe was rushing in to kill it's owner. He rolled to the side just in time, then pushed against the beach with all his limbs and landed on his feet several yards from his would-be slayer, then smirked at the surprise. "It's you..."

Cian Kai

"... Cian Kai." He grinned at the sound of his own name from the lips of his old comrade, "What are the odds that I would run into you tonight?"

His grin widened and his teeth gleamed in moonlight. "Bad luck?" Cian Kai charged forward and threw himself into a spin, bringing Elisedd's handaxe towards the shark-man's neck. But Elisedd brought up his arm and moved himself forward, catching the handle of the axe in his hand and moving himself forward enough that the axe head was just behind him. Just as Cian had expected. Still moving with the full force of his spin, his fist connected to the side of Elisedd's face, sending Elisedd stumbling backward and grabbing his mouth. He came to a halt and spit blood. "Predictable, shark boy. You're not stopping me from getting off these damn isles tonight, Eli." Before giving Elisedd a chance to say or do anything else, Cian brought the axe back behind him and threw it with full force and deadly accuracy at his chest.

He didn't bother to watch the results of his efforts, but spun around and ran for the cover of the trees, sure to keep as far from the water as possible. He heard a body fall into the water behind him, but didn't presume so much as to think he had killed Elisedd. An arrow whizzed past him, embedding itself into a tree trunk, then Cian vanished into cover, in tow of a group of three other runners from Slabhra. They were now in a mad dash for the finish, their only chance for survival was to get to the northern tip of this island. None of them bothered saying a word to the others. They all knew the stakes and they all valued their own survival over anyone elses. Cian was content to let them lead the way, and so maintained pace a couple yards back.

This tact proved wise, as one of the runners triggered a spike-trap which spun around the wide trunk of a tree and impaled the man directly behind him, lifting him off his feet and leaving him hanging and gurgling helplessly. Then wolf howls rose up through the night air, and the crashing of brush and patter of padded feet built from the left. Cian picked up the pace, his long legs bringing him up just behind his two fellow runners, who were panting for breath. With a swift kick to back of ones' knee in midstride, he brought the man to the ground, rolling in a cloud of dust. The other man didn't protest as the wolves broke through the brush and came into sight. Two descended upon the fallen criminal and brought their teeth to his throat, the other two wolves were not fooled and charged on after the two runners.

Cian could see a break in the trees and the northern tip of the isle. There were four rowboats waiting on the beach. The other man had seen it too, and he tried to use a trick out of Cian's own arsenal, aiming for his knee to bring him down as a distraction, but instead Cian grabbed the man's ankle and spun him through the air like a ragdoll, bringing him around to collide him with a leaping wolf, then let go and wolf and man crashed into a tree trunk. The other wolf lunged, but Cian already knew the ways of a beast. He dropped below the creature, then gripped its' throat with fingers like an iron vise, brought it down to the ground and jumped on top of it, throwing a heavy fist down again and again into it's skull, until warm fluids and chunks of brain matter dribbled down on the fingers that held it by the throat. The other wolf and man were still fighting eachother, the wolf getting the better, but Cian paid their conflict no mind and broke back into a full sprint.

Leaves whirled through the air about him as he broke through the last of the trees. The boats were only twenty yards away now, he could taste the freedom. Shouting of men came from his right, and a group of four more runners emerged from the trees. They spotted him as well, but gave no acknowledgement beyond that. Nothing mattered right now except for getting to those boats, until then it was every man for himself. Cian kept running, finally getting winded now, and the group of four merged with him. Several arrows flew through the air, bringing down two of the men instantly and one finding its way into Cian's right shoulder. He grunted in disapproval at it, but otherwise didn't slow down a bit. One of the other runners got to a boat before he did, and pushed it out onto the water, but just as he made to jump into it a mako rose from the waves and shut its jaws around the mans' throat, sundering head from shoulders.

In a second or less, the mako was a man with his face covered in the blood of his last victim, whose head was now lolling lazily in the waves that lapped at the beach. His axe was in his hand, and with his other he flung his long black hair out of his face. Cian slowed his run to barely a jog, and the other runner collided in a grapple with Elisedd. The winded runner didn't last long though, before Elisedd had him on his knees holding his own crotch, then brought his axe down into the nape of his neck.

Ever an opportunist, Cian Kai barrelled forward and then jumped feet-first in a dropkick at Elisedd, which flung the shark-man back out into the waves. Cian regained his feet as quickly as he could, three more arrows flying over his head while he tried to stay low. He heard more fighting behind him, by the tree line, which was surely where the arrows had come from, but didn't look back. He gave the rowboat a final push out into the water and flipped himself inside it. Only then, as he grabbed the oars and sat in position to begin rowing, did he look back. Two more runners had made it to the beach, jumping over several bodies bleeding out in the sand with arrows stuck in their backs, screaming at him to stop and let them on.

He grinned to show his massive pearly whites at them, and picked up his pace, tendons rippling in his shoulders, an arrow still stuck in his right. One of them went down from an arrow in the spine, and the other stopped and stared like a fool for a moment at Cian, before that damn mako sprouted up from the water and ripped out his throat. Elisedd shifted back into a man and turned to face Cian, now several yards from shore, but made no move to pursue him any further. No other runners came out of the trees, only hunters and beasts shifting back into men, come to see the one that got away, Cian Kai. Cian's signature grin spread wide across his face. He finally stopped rowing and tore the arrow out of his shoulder, discarding it into the water, then picked the oars back up. Today was the day.


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Character Portrait: Asger and Tryne Character Portrait: Norack/ Rinen T. Hawk
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Norack stood and so did the dragon at his side. He had to visit an old friend in a land far away. He looked at Luna and the black dragon grew in size until she was roughly 35 feet long and 20 feet tall. He swung on to her neck and grabbed set of horns that grew out of the rear of Luna's head and she lifted off. She gained speed and altitude until she was going past the boarder of his realm and into another realm and slipped in to his destination, Valhalla.

The dragon landed with a loud thud and she lowered her neck for Norack to dismounted. When he did, the black dragon grew smaller and smaller until she was the size of a large wolf and walked beside him as he entered the great hall, the large doors opening rather loudly. The room went silent as the god of nomads and dragons, the eldest of the young gods, walked past them, an aura of power surrounded him, making many of the fallen warriors either bow, or tip there assorted hats in his direction. As he strode up to the goddess of war, he smiled slightly and addressed her "Hello, fare goddess, I do believe our avatars are about to interact, and though my foresight is not as powerful as most, I can see them together for a quest or two." at this moment, a small ice golem had been teasing Luna with a turkey leg and when the poor fool hadn't given her the leg, she let loose a burst of flame and melted the golem, catching the turkey leg in the air as it fell and gobbling it up


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Character Portrait: Montayzuomah Character Portrait: Adharc'aon
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Soaring over a seemingly endless stretch of green, with the marshy delta of Gol'riasc fading into the distance, came a jet-black hawk with strangely glowing green eyes. Unnaturally large for a bird of it's type, it cast a wide swathe of a shadow on the trees below, and although it's eye movements were difficult to see due to the strange green glow, it scanned the world beneath in short, rapid movements, drinking in details it could only dream of when in its Elven form. Lenwë had been in flight since midday, with Ninian Folte, the lone descendent of the line of Hawk-men as his partner in flight. Ninian had taken to her favoured form of a golden eagle, which trumped Lenwë's speed easily, and she'd careened off to the side some time ago, not to be seen since.
Of course, it was no cause for concern. Ninian did tend to show off a bit in her silent manner. But Lenwë knew she was nearby, being linked in his way to the minds of the Inner Circle's members, although he could discern no exact location for her. Playing games? He projected the thought towards her consciousness, but was only met with a mischevious mental giggle, and then suddenly he heard the whooshing of air around wings folded for a dive. Lenwë tucked himself into a sideways roll, saving himself from Ninian's teasing talons.
Lenwë regained a horizontal position and beat his wings twice to regain the few feet he'd dropped in the maneuver, then cocked his head towards Ninian, the golden eagle appearing to glide lazily, although they were moving at breakneck speeds over the trees. You remembered the move I showed you! She sent the words to him through their telepathic bond, and expressed a sense of pride that she had taught the Avatar of the Hunt how to fly adequately.
He didn't acknowledge her, so as not to feed her flame of self-gratification, but instead beat his wing at her playfully, disturbing the air currents around her wing nearest him. Gracefully, she spun away and regained her trajectory, a little further away from Lenwë this time. It was all in fun, the flight had been long and boring for the both of them, but as the Avatar Lenwë felt that playing games with his fellow Circle members when on a diplomatic mission was unbecoming. Seriously, he spoke to her again, We grow near, compose yourself. He hadn't ever spent any significant amount of time in the USN, and then had only passed through, avoiding towns and cities, but he knew they were a more civilized culture than was his own. It wasn't uncommon for foreign people to view the Artabri as little more than barbaric, uncultured folk akin to the Frost-born, and that was not an image that he wanted to reinforce by acting foolish in the sight of Shadonian nobility. While in the Commonwealth, freedom of behaviour was expected and natural, but he assumed that acting in such ways while in the Southern lands of the USN would be viewed as disrespectful.
Ninian took no further scolding, and slowed herself so that she fell slightly behind her Avatar, then maintained an even distance. The trees below had thinned out, and Lenwë knew that they were now crossing or already across the border between Arro'ell and the USN.

Located outside the castle gates were two guards. Both had been informed of the expected visitors and are keeping their eyes on the skies above them. Not really that prepared for what they are expected.
Ever since the main clan meeting, things have begun to calm down. Post celebration cleanups had finished, the clan leaders had left to tend to their own people, of course with a few new actions to attend to. Like the child labour in the Metle clan. The second trimonarch, Dae Rostovii, had left Shadopolis to return to his sector, The Rostovii Clan. Leaving the other two trimonarchs to attend a meeting with their elven visitor. Weilacca and Patraeko. Of course, this is mostly used as a way to teach the youngest trimonarch the works of the trimonarchy and being a clan leader. However, it's not like he'll learn much. Patraeko already had his experience from since his father had been executed.
With the time given to the trimonarchy, some preparations had taken place. This includes the quick learning of some simple elven sentences and words. Along with the recruitment of a translator who had grown fluent in the elven language. Of course, this translator would be able to translate Shadonian words over to the visitors, if they need the translation of course. All what's left now is to wait...

After having passed over a variety of landscapes, finally the two airborne Hunters were gliding swiftly over a plains region, a mountain range now visible to the South. Growing close enough for his hawk-eyes to pick it out, Lenwë saw the lone mountain that served as the heart of the USN's massive capital, Shadopolis. Although he could have simply soared over the walls, possibly at the risk of being shot down, the great black hawk with vibrantly glowing green eyes instead slowed his speed and fell into a gentle dive.
Ninian followed suit, requiring no guidance on how she ought to behave now that they were so near. Although Lenwë did not betray his thoughts to his companion, he was baffled at the sheer scope of the widespread city. Already the sounds of mass civilization buffeted his keen ears, he was sure Ninian would be experiencing the same feeling of being overwhelmed as he was now. Population centers on the scale of Shadopolis were unheard of in the Commonwealth, and while Lenwë had travelled and seen cities in his hundred and forty years, it had been quite some time since he had exposed himself to civilization outside of his forested homeland.
Two guards were in sight outside of the main gates of the castle, whom he suspected were there to meet and escort them to the First Trimonarch, Weilacca. Now only a few yards off of the ground, possibly moving a little too quickly for the comfort of the two guards, Lenwë allowed the shift back into his Elven form to begin. His wide nine foot wingspan shrunk and shed jet-black feathers, revealing his almost deathly grey skin tone. His talons receded into him as the bones gained density and length, changing into bare feet at the end of ankles that snapped into place. The rest of his feathers shed from his torso, and his beak crumpled down and back into his face, soft flesh moving to take its place and forming into lips. A dark grey, almost black cloak materialized as if from smoke and fell down over his otherwise nude body, his only article of clothing.
Ninian's transformation was similar, although she was more clothed than her Avatar. Tan leathers that had seen many a hunt and a dusty brown cloak covered her heavily tattooed body, and her dark brown hair flailed wildly for a moment as she fell all the way to the ground and the gusts of her now vanished wings receded. Lenwë stepped forward slowly, and greeted them in the common language, "I am Lenwë, Avatar of Adharc'aon, come from the Artabraic Commonwealth on a mission of diplomacy and trade talks. I do believe your master is expecting me?" He spoke as he did purely as a formality, he was sure they knew he was coming and had been waiting specifically for their arrival.
Even as the guards made reply, Lenwë had begun regrowing the signature bark-armor that he covered his feet, legs, and hands with. It was a rather slow process, but small shoots like roots were already stretching down his legs and working to cover his otherwise bare feet. While he was covered by the cloak he donned, his feet were slightly visible, especially when he moved or a breeze displaced the frayed bottom of his garment. Green and brown tendrils slowly were stretching down from his forearm as well, but he did not allow it to form armor proper, as that might be taken as an afront. This was only a diplomatic visit, afterall, and if he looked too on guard the Trimonarchs may interpret it in the wrong way.

The two guards simply aimlessly stood around, sighing with boredom. However, the sight of the two giant creatures took the two by surprise, one fell over at the shock before quickly grabbing his musket as general protocol. Once the two creatures shifted in their shape, the two quickly lowered their guns and held them in place to rest against their shoulder. Quickly making worried faces, hoping that the two visitors did not notice the hostile actions.
Once the two visitors had arrived, one spoke in the common language, a language made for the whole of Pandeum to speak. Although, the superiority complex of the Shadonian race left them to leave the common language as a secondary, less important language to learn. And so, they stood there confused, only recognizing a few words. They just had to do what they were ordered afterall, not talk.
"This way, visitors." The taller, more toned guard replied in the Shadonian language (Heard as "Taeesae wackooay seesaeetaockras"). The armored guard left his musket to rest against the walls of the castle gates. Guns were prohibited inside the castle.
With that, the guard left the other to stay at the gate. While leading the two visitors into the massive castle-mountain. Apon entry, the great architecture of the Vladaminsky clan could be seen. With great details placed all over the walls, pillars, stairs, throne, floor, etc... After a good while of walking up massive stairs, the three had finally reached a large wooden door. The conference room. "Emperor Weilacca and Lord Payemyndii are in here" the guard spoke. Stepping to the side to allow the two to enter the room.
Inside the room sat two men, Weilacca Vladaminsky and Patraeko Payemyndii. With Montayzuomah casually floating crosslegged beside Weilacca. The two were sitting at the two corners of the triangle shaped table, in front of their respective symbols. Two seats were place at the edge opposite Weilacca for the visitors to sit at. The last corner was left empty, with a small plate placed on the chair saying "Busy." in Shadonian.
"Ah!" Weilacca called out, as he stood from his chair, raising his arms in a sort of peaceful/welcoming way. He thought for a little before coming up with an elven word "Welcome". It was the only elven word he could remember, it's a good thing he taught himself the common language. "You guys speak the common language right?"

Lenwë tried to hide the surprise he felt at the informality of the Shadonian Emperor, but a momentary lapse of his demeanor betrayed his emotions for no more than a second. Ninian suppressed a chuckle, and then tried to casually examine the Deity in the room. Unfortunately, her expertise at acting casual in social situations was extraordinarily low, so she was more staring at Montayzuomah than politely glancing. Lenwë delivered a quick mental jab to her, not conveying any words but it was good enough for her to get the message. She averted her gaze and scanned the room, quickly taking in the features of the two Trimonarchs present.
Lenwë had felt similar surprise at the presence of the God of Suffering quite simply and casually hovering next to where Weilacca had been sitting, but he had more control over himself than the young hawk-girl that had accompanied him. Lenwë smiled politely at the greeting of the Emperor and the single Elven word he had used.
"Of course, the common tongue is the one normally used in the Commonwealth as my people do not solely share one lineage." This would help to explain why the Avatar of the Hunt was an Elf, while Ninian was a pale human sharing features in common with many of the Frost-born much further to the North. "Unfortunately, my knowledge of your language is restricted to a bare minimum. I have only ever passed through your United Nations en route to the Black Forest."

"I see," Weilacca replied, "My people simply stick to our own language. We believe that the Shadonian tongue should be used worldwide. Although, that's only our beliefs." He sat back down, gesturing to the others to take a seat. "You don't need to worry at lacking our language, we can still use the common tongue." He smiled a metallic smile as his teeth caught the light and reflected it as bright rays, this inhuman trait is what mainly distinguished the shadonian race from humans. That and the deep red eyes in which most shadonians hold.
"Anyway, we need to introduce ourselves!" Weilacca smiled again,
"I'm Weilacca Vladaminsky, Emperor of the United Shadonian Nations."
Patraeko finally spoke a few blunt words, "Patraeko Payemyndii, King of the Payemyndii Clan". Most people would not believe Patraeko's words due to his young age, but the truth was made obvious since he was sitting at the triangle table of the trimonarchy conference room.
As the talk continued, Montayzuomah simply floated there, quiet, as he watched the meeting take place. He spent his time quickly analysing the two visitors, ready to give some extra information to Weilacca should he miss something at the end of the meeting.

Lenwë had heard tell of the strange differences of the Shadonian people from Hunters who had managed to get close enough to see the details of their deep red eyes and unnaturally shiny teeth, but this was the first time he had really seen up close for himself. Since Lenwë's glowing green eyes lacked any iris or pupils he could let his gaze drift where he pleased without others knowing for certain whether it was them he was looking at or not.
Ninian did not share in Lenwë's strange eye coloration, and so it was painfully obvious that she was blatantly staring at Weilacca's metallic smile. Lenwë threw another mental jab her way, simultaneously continuing with pleasantries with his hosts, "It is an honor to meet you both. In our flight I was baffled at the sheer size of your country, you must have half the total population of the Commonwealth in this city alone." Moving behind the seat designated by the Emperor, and beckoning for Ninian to follow suit, he introduced them before sitting down.
"I am Lenwë, Avatar of the Hunt, and my companion here is Ninian Folte, member of my countries governing body."
Ninian gave a short, sloppy curtsy, to the best of her ability, "Honored." She replied shortly with her face down-turned, then took her seat next to Lenwë. Speaking in the manners of civilized folk had always been bizarre to Lenwë, even with practice, and small talk came to him with great difficulty. He could only imagine at how much more difficult such things were for Ninian.
"As you are aware, I had requested this meet in order to solidify trading agreements between our nations. Our harvest was plentiful this year, and tradesmen in the Commonwealth are anxious to see Shadonian ships make port in Cathair-sa-Chuan. In addition, the recent warning," he glanced up at Montayzuomah, then back to the two trimonarchs, "has given me cause to seek out additional military alliances. The dryads between our nations only ever promise neutrality, and whatever this coming threat is, we need a Southern ally we can rely on."

Weilacca looked confused at the two's strange actions, but stuck to ignore the human's stares towards himself. It's probably the first time to see a Shadonian, or maybe first time meeting and emperor. Oh well. As a reply to Lenwë's compliment, Weilacca spoke out; "I thank you. It took a lot of resources, lives and effort to finally unite this country. Plus, the city of Shadopolis is one of the oldest, constantly growing cities in the history of the USN." He smiled again, happy to show some praise towards his dictator-esque actions.
Listening some more to the reasons to the meeting, Weilacca opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Patraeko. "I see a land trade more efficient and short rather than sea. Of course there are some goods which we produce in bulk and require ships to carry their weight, but most goods are light enough to carry over land." He spoke as if he was bored, his words implying that it was a simple, common thing for people to know. Or maybe he was insulting them, it was unsure from the Payemyndii's accent. "We are aware of this warning through the idiot god's words. Your confirmation has made it clear that he wasn't lying-" Montayzuomah flinched a little and gave off a large sigh at Patraeko's words, "-A military alliance would be best for both of us. Especially with some actions occuring within our own country along with some hostile actions from neighboring ones. I'm pretty sure you can rely on our large, technologically advanced forces and great strategic prowess. And Weilacca has been going on about how great you people are, so we hope we can trust you."
With that, Patraeko looked away and slouched back into his chair, hanging his arm over the backrest and staring out the window, into the crowded streets of the city. Weilacca simply stared at Patraeko in surprise, it wasn't usual for a young leader like him to suddenly show such great words in such a brief fashion. He then quickly looked towards the two visitors, hoping that Patraeko's words/accent haven't caused any offense. Montayzuomah simply sat there, floating and giggling.

"They aren't what I expected." came Ninian's projected thought into Lenwë's mind. She could have been reading his own unspoken words. He wasn't sure whether he was being insulted by the young Payemyndii noble or if it was just how these people commonly spoke. Chances were that Patraeko was trying to goad him into taking offence, as a means of weighing Lenwë's character. But he was determined to make these talks work out in the favor of the Artabraic people, if it meant taking insults even, he wouldn't act out against it.
He had expected Montayzuomah, for a split second, to strike down his young mortal lord. These Shadonians seemed full of surprises though. But then he felt a sense of relief, hearing that even the arrogant Lord Payemyndii saw merit in forming a military alliance.
"I am pleased that we see a military alliance as mutually beneficial, but I have reservations in regards to a land-based trade route." He shifted in his seat and leaned forward a bit, careful to maintain a composed demeanor and not to cause insult to the Payemyndii, "There are no safe, monitored, or regularly patrolled roads from here to the Commonwealth. Such a route would take merchants and goods along the borders of the Outlands and the Drow Dominion." The Outlands was full of brigands and cutthroats, such was common knowledge, and the Drow typically took unkindly to trespassers. He wasn't sure whether he should tell Patraeko and Weilacca about the increase in activity of the insect denizens of the Dominion near the borders. It was possible they already knew anyway.
"While I am a leader of my people, the Artabri do not function like yours. They are free to make their own decisions, that is the foundation of our ideology. I could not force them to establish outposts outside of Artabraic borders in order to safeguard this trading road." He let his words weigh on the room, expressing no further argument for the moment, waiting for a counter from either of the nobles across the triangular table.

Patraeko thought for a moment, before quickly whipping his head back to face the visitors. "Then we simply set up patrols, roads, escorts, those barbarians can't do shit to us."
Weilacca quickly tapped the table with the palm of his hand, "Patraeko, stop with this arrogance. A good leader should have an open mind and consider all problems and details." He then looked towards the visitors, "I'm sorry, Patraeko is new to the Trimonarchy."
"How much would it cost to start a campaign through the Outlands and Drow Dominion?" Patraeko asked Weilacca,
"Shut up. We aren't starting a war just for trade. You got to look at the big picture to excel in strategics. It will cost much more to start a war and is much cheaper to set up a trade route by sea. And so!"
Weilacca looked back at the visitors again, "I apologize for the inconvenience, a sea trade route would be best and we would be glad. Of course, we need to know what you have to offer and what you require from us. Along with that, we need to make some arrangements of exchanging garrisons. It would be much more safer and efficient to have each soldiers guarding each other's lands. It will give a mix of specialties along with improving inter-racial relationships."
"Hoo~" Montayzuomah finally begun to speak, "You're quick to give in to pathetic-" His words were quickly stopped with a small spark of electricity reaching out towards the god. Quickly causing him to drift backwards, out of range.
"Your opinion is invalid, idiot god. Go cause some disease or masturbate or whatever you do."
With a small grunt, Montayzuomah left the room by disappearing through a wall. Drifting off to meddle in whatever he thought would be fun.

Taking in stride the behavior of both the Payemyndii and the insult-cut-short of the now un-present Deity, Lenwë carried on as if neither thing had happened. "It is quite alright, we all have our beginnings." He gracefully lifted his hands as if wiping away Patraeko's outburst from memory. "Regardless of reasons, I do agree that war is the last thing needed in our lands at present. Whatever the danger on the horizon that has been foretold actually is, we should try and be prepared for it. War would be a distraction from this."
Finally sitting back and really relaxing for the first time since he arrived, Lenwë folded his hands in front of him on the table. While his manner appeared calm and relieved of worry, he was now brooding to himself while carrying on the conversation. "The Commonwealth has a variety of natural resources at our disposal; lumber, in abundance, crops of corn, wheat, and hops in plenty, among with several other choice harvests, but not in the same quantities." The interrupted comment of the God of Suffering troubled him, but he tried not to show any misgivings. "In addition, Artabraic Hunters never quit in their work, and we can provide all the animal products you could ask for. Leathers and furs for the coming winter would, naturally, be a prime example. Also, our mountain ranges and the cliff-sides of the Déithamach Peninsula are rich in iron ores and precious metals."
He shrugged more to himself than anyone else, carrying on, "Given our proposed military alliance and exchange of military forces, I'm sure that my merchants could be persuaded to provide yours with favorable bargains and priority considerations. In exchange we would be interested in higher quality weapons, as well as siege weaponry, just to be prepared for anything. Also, most of our cities and settlements are of crudely built and wooden quality. If you have stone building tools, and possibly also masons willing to travel to the Commonwealth, we would be interested in such things."
"An exchange of garrisons would be beneficial, I am certain that I can gather a substantial number of Artabri toward this cause. Once they have been decided, I will send word to you, followed shortly by the Hunters themselves. Do you have a specific post already in mind, or an idea of what they will most typically be faced against? Depending on the environment and potential enemies, I could recommend Artabri with different specialties."

Weilacca smiled with the offers, "Lumber and crops are exactly what we need, along with leathers and furs as well." He commented, followed by Patraeko's words;
"My people excel in weapons production, we can easily supply you with the general Shadonian weaponry which include cannons, muskets, and close combat weaponry like swords and spears. We also build trebuchets, catapults, warships and have a small prototype of a new weapon in production."
"As for your ores, I'm afraid that we aren't in need of these. Our own mines in the Metle and Skeel sectors have a great abundance in iron and copper ores." Weilacca added, "If you need masons and architects to assist in your buildings, we'd be happy to send some. Some of our trade ships can be loaded with eager workers seeking to immigrate into your lands. There, they can work and teach."
Patraeko finally commented on the garrison exchange, "Your garrisons would be thinly spread throughout the USN at first to show the integration of foreign military. We don't want any major threat or fear to reach the people so it's easier to slowly bring them in. After a good time of the garrison exchange programme, your garrisons would be gathered together for usual guard duty in some sectors, along with policing and training of rookies. Of course, we would contact you for permission on using your troops in war should one break out. We're happy to receive any specialty and also offer a range of specialties of our own guards. Wall marksmen, brutes, riders, line infantry, dragoons. The list goes on."

[center]Lenwë raised an eyebrow at Patraeko's mention of the prototype weapon, but held his silence on the matter, respecting that it was likely a guarded secret. If the time came, perhaps that information would find its' way to his Elven ears. "Your weapons would be gladly accepted. Cannons could be implemented to defend our city walls, as well as muskets. Unfortunately, your warships may be lost on us, as we have no conventional Navy." Lenwë considered Weilacca's words. It was unfortunate that the Shadonians would have no demand for their metal ores, but not too large an issue.
"Housing can be provided for immigration at short notice, our capital city is vast as well and capable of providing residence to large amounts of people. Your architects might be particularly interested in the Dwarven design of our capital. It is ancient, and some sections of it are in some state of disrepair, however we have been hesitant in tasking any workers to restore it for fear that they may cause more harm than good. Your workers would be well taken care of."
He replied now directly to Patraeko, "The workings of the exchange programme in the USN can be handled at the discretion of you Trimonarchs. A slow integration sounds practical, but I could immediately set to task several thousand Shadonian troops. Your garrisons would likely be placed on or near our border to the Dominion, and perhaps nearby our main population centers. My people tend to specialize in non-conventional warfare, with a heavy tendency for stealth and guerilla tactics, so your more standard soldiers would be a valuable asset to us if we ever had to hold the line against numerous forces. In addition, they would be perfect for policing and patrolling our border. In time, perhaps your officers could instruct the Artabri in conventional rank and file warfare, if my people see learning such tactics to be worthwhile."
"Not likely." Ninian sent her snide thought on the idea of standing in formation and taking barked orders to Lenwë, with a momentary cringing of her nose coming over her, as if something smelled foul. Lenwë quickly subdued her with a thought, then continued to address Weilacca, "If there is nothing further, perhaps we should finalize our agreements, and then I will set myself to task. Merchants and hunters will have to be informed of these good tidings, and the sooner I return to the Commonwealth, the sooner trade and military exchange can take place."

Patraeko hummed in agreement, liking the words being spoke toward him. "Line infantry and Dragoons would be best for policing and patrolling. Both of which also have a great defensive stance and training for if any war were to come by. As for having full control over your garrisons, we are very grateful and would try our best to train them in our ranks. We would get the garrisons to full work immediately, however, our people can be quite xenophobic. When your garrisons return to their homelands, they would/should be fully trained in discipline and formations." He explained.
"Well then!" Weilacca clapped his hands together to grab the attention of the room. "I believe this is it. I don't believe there are any other words to be said so we, can finalize our negotiations." He turned to the visitors, "Is there anything else worth mentioning?"

Lenwë pursed his lips and shook his head after a second of consideration. "I think not." Rising to his feet, and tucking the chair back in place, signaling for Ninian to follow suit. "I am pleased that we have been so easily able to negotiate on these issues, and I thank you, Emperor Vladaminsky and Lord Payemyndii, for the kind hospitality." Giving a gracious, swooping bow, and Ninian sloppily doing the same.

"Ah yes! Thanks for taking the time to come over here. Next time, all three of us will pay a visit to your Commonwealth." Weilacca replied, smiling another metallic smile as he saw the two visitors off. Returning to his work as they took to the skies once more.