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The Pantheon: Post Cataclysm

Creation

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a part of The Pantheon: Post Cataclysm, by Midnightclub.

These are the Three Realms

Midnightclub holds sovereignty over Creation, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Creation

These are the Three Realms

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Creation is a part of The Pantheon: Post Cataclysm.

3 Places in Creation:

21 Characters Here

Adarani [292] The Elder Goddess of Love, Healing, and Fertility
Mathias [241] The Elder God of Justice and Civilization
Jute [220] The goddess of Deception, Greed, Malice, Snakes, Battle, and Foresight
Nylia [204] The Elder Goddess of Revenge, Seduction, Manipulation, and the Undead.
Mérida [131] Goddess of Nature, Season and Rainbows
Acanthus [105] The god of Magic, Wisdom, and Knowledge
Othuma [99] The God of Death
Keindra [85] God of service, servants, masters. and contracts
Torsc and Riomu [55] The Half-Gods of Artifice and Freedom
Rodrauge [54] The lord of soil, sand, stone, dust, and metal.

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Character Portrait: Othuma Character Portrait: Charoum
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The Azure Brood

The Dragon was delighted that his prey began to take notice of him. He was excited at the prospect of a hunt. Though soon he grew disappointed as his prey stood guarded. He growled, apparently they need more intimidation. The Dragon swooped down low and flew right over there heads. He made a swift turn as he gave another mighty roar. This time they must be frightened! When he spun in the air he noticed they still didn't break away. They stood definitely as if they believe they stood a chance. This angered the young dragon. The first prey in days and they don't scatter!? What indignation!

The Dragon flew low again this time extending the sharp claws. It looked like he would snatched them of the ground. Yet he feigned the attempt as he quickly flew up over them. He hoped he would have psyched them out. Believing they would have run to avoid his claws. When he turned to see that they still stood he was finished. The Dragon flew down and landed with a thud. It roared to show it's anger as it appeared before them. If they won't run then they will face death sooner! The young dragon looked at them and with a snap of it's jaw went to bite one of the Aerumnan.

The warrior scouts quickly rolled to the side to avoid the rows of sharp teeth looking to tear into them. "Tryhre!" Shouted Redorin. "Run to it's side, we will strike while it tries to turn!" He shouted his strategy. The warriors ran on opposite sides and as the Dragon was indecisive of who to go after the warriors slashed the sides of the beast. But they managed to leave nicks as the dragon's scales proved an excellent armor. The dragon then whipped it's body around turning to Redorin as the tail swung over Tryhre's head. The Dragon snapped it's jaw once again as it went to bite Redorin. He quickly ducked to the side as he swung his sword. The Dragon quickly pulled it's head back before any more damage could be done.

From behind Tryhre slashed at the Dragon's back legs. Annoyed the Dragon whipped it's tail. Like a whip Tryhre could not manage to dodge it as he was sent flying. The Aerumnan soon landed inside a crevice in the ground. The blow mixed with the rough fall caused the unwilling scout to pass out. "Tryhre!" Redorin shouted. Seeing as the beast is determined to kill them, he was determined to fight him. Unafraid in the face of his enemy, he steady himself, as he let go of feeling and then charged the Dragon. He swung his sword leaving more nicks in the Dragons legs. The angered Ice Dragon then lifted his right front claw and attempted to slam it upon Redorin. Redorin quickly dodged the crushing blow. Though the Dragon was not yet done as it went for another bite. Redorin attempted the dodge but the Dragon grabbed hold of his arm. The Dragon the lifted Redorin off the ground. The beast smiled as it caught it's prey but like an Aerumnan he will fight until his last breath leaves his body.

Taking his free arm that held his sword, he furiously batted at the Dragon. The Dragon snorted in annoyance as it shook it's head. The fangs of the Dragon were tearing into the scout's arm, as he felt his flesh tear. Redorin grunted in pain but continued to swat at the Dragon. Then finally Redorin managed to stab into the gums of the Dragon. He then growled in pain as he dropped the Aerumnan to the ground. Redorin's arm was bleeding badly but he cannot give in. He stood to meet the Dragon but took it's left front claw and brought it down on him. Redorin would have been pinned if he didn't shove the sword through the Dragon's palm. The Dragon lifted it's leg, but already Redorin felt crushed. He felt internal pain as bones must have been broken. He turned to onto his stomach and coughed up blood. Before he could attempt to rise the Dragon bit down on his leg and lifted him off the ground once more. The pain was getting to him but he attempted to slash at the Dragon once more. But he was smart, choosing to go from the leg gave him adequate space to avoid retaliation. The Dragon the swung him around as the fangs tore into his leg. He then flipped him up in the air, causing Redorin to drop his sword. And the as the Aerumnan stared down into the Dragon's throat, he was enclosed with in it's mouth.

After chewed upon it's prey, spat out some of the clothing and metals he had on his body. After the Dragon finished eating it's prey it searched for the other one. Not knowing where Tryhe lied nor could he identify him thanks to the snow. The Dragon assumed he must have ran for it. The Young Dragon took off into the air and went to search for his next prey. As Tryhre came to a little while later. He rose from the snow to notice the wind had stopped for now. Tryhre climbed out of the crevice, sword in hand. He had hoped to see Redorin and the beast slain, but even he could see that was mere fantasy. When he arrived on the surface of the snow covered land. Tryhre walked a little ways to find the remains of his companion. He found his longsword near bloodied snow and knew his friend was lost. Tryhre honored his memory as he took his sword and buried into the ground. It was the best grave he could make. Seeing the Dragon was no where in sight, he figured best to return back. He needs to report to his people that life could be found here. Leaving the cold land behind him Tryhre would take the most hardest journey of his life.

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Character Portrait: Almaroth
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A seed, an oddly unholy one I might add, has not been noticed. But It is here, hiding on the dark side of the mountain. It's about time It climbs out of It's shell. It has been hiding long enough. A sudden burst is made behind the mountain, on the dark side it was born. The God of Blood, Almaroth was born. He limped and crawled around as blood dripped from every open socket he had. His veins throbbed, glowing red with each pulse. He then looks at the sunset and laughs, as loud as he could, echoing. Almaroth returns his breath, and spreads his wings. He then flies, straight up to the peak of the mountain, and builds a pillar. It was made of a black marble but glowed, with darkness. The tip was pyramid shaped, and from it rose a red beam with the scent of blood. Secondly, he takes a handful of the snow from atop the mountain, and turns it into ice. The ice however, was molded into a statue of a mortal creature. This creature still took the appearance of an ice sculpture, but inside it's mouth, darkness. And in it's eyes, red terror. It had sharp icicles for teeth and claws, as some of them also stuck out of his back. "Now my little sweet heart," said He as The Creature hissed and snapped. "No need to be in a hurry sweet heart, I still have a final touch to put on you" He said. A dark tendril then forms on His arm as it dashes towards The Creature. It then enters it's heart, and turns the ice into obsidian-like rock. The hisses are turned to roars, and the snapping, to chomps. "Tenebris will be your name, and you will be very useful for me" He said. Tenebris then jumped off the mountain and landed on a tree, as it crawled, scurried, and leaped in search of prey. The God then created a throne made of stone and bones and sat upon it to rest.

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Character Portrait: Mathias Character Portrait: Adarani Character Portrait: Nylia Character Portrait: Charoum
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Charoum

Charoum parried an incoming sword with the blade of his own, sent away from the wielder as he stepped in delivering an accurate stab between two ribs of his opponent, splitting blue-purple skin and allowing blood to first erupt from the wound then give in droplets about the blade as it slid easily from the wound. He appeared as one of his mortals ofcourse, just another ashen warrior upon the battlefield, he gave a tap upon the ground sinking low as more of the warriors approached, letting loose their war cries just moments before he gave them death. They had fought well, a great army of the beings had marched to meet them in a wonderful show of force, demonstrating tactics and skill unlike any organism they'd yet to combat. They stirred with fear however upon the Hydra's efforts, as any army would. The massive beasts fell into their ranks, they struggled to reform but it was in vain as the Aerumnan took their slightest hesitation..

He walked slowly about the field, a stab wound in his lower torso seeping crimson, he gave a cough and the same liquid magnificence erupted from his throat, staining pale lips and sticking in a light film to the white of his teeth as he grinned victoriously. Every movement was an explosion of pain that made him certain of every kill he'd achieved. Thousands had died, but from here the Aerumnan would march on to conquer the whole of the area, bodies were strewn about the flat ground beneath their feet, the battle was all but over, most of the Aerumnan had fallen back to camp and tend to their planning and wounds, some stayed behind to lay to rest the enemy wounded.

Charoum slid to a crouch beside one of their men clutching an opened stomach, blood stuck true to the bits of armor and clothing there, but the putrid smell of infection was already audible, he gave a small shushing noise as the enemy looked up at him, with dark eyes filled with dismay. He wondered what kind of creatures these were, oddly they seemed almost alike his own, but the desire was different, odd. There was a small cry through broken lips before he fell completely silent, his heart pierced, a sickening sound as the blade was pulled free without a care as Charoum stood and moved on.

Later they were visited..

About the camp fire the men stirred in their eating, stopped the sharpening of their blades or the cleaning of their armor. They stood alert and the Hydras gave blood-curdling shrieks, before the general's tent landed several large winged creatures. Booming voices demanded them, spoke of punishment and of crimes. Charoum had swiftly moved to the head of the crowd, narrowing his eyes. The beings offended him gravely, he felt hurt rising within him, pulling his sword from it's sheathe he bounded forth. It stammered as he went to slash it speedily across the throat, ducking and going to deliver a blow with a large hammer, nimbly stepping into the blow with his previous momentum, he went for a stab at the underarm and with the lack of time given for reaction, the speedy monstrosity that had before held beauty wailed, almost a noble sob as the rest of the Aerumnan gave cries of war. The force were quickly outnumbered, even with their magic they managed only to fell a few of the ashen warriors before succumbing, being felled and burned with a rage that was only beat out by Charoum for their accusations. He slipped away immediately, determined to kill the one responsible for opposing him.

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Character Portrait: Mathias Character Portrait: Adarani
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Mathias

It was a cold morning that day, the clouds weighed over head as they smelt of rain. For the first time is a long while he was on the mortal plane, looking out towards the Valeish people. He has heard a great deal of the racial tension between The Valeish and the Sacriran refuge. While he promised himself not to interfere in their mortal affairs, he was rather worried his people were failing in their faith. Though not all, those who were, were in power. Their hate mongering and manipulative ways is causing much tension from ever resolving their differences.

The Sacrirans hold true though. Even with this racial oppression they manage to linger on. King Telondris does his best to settle the crowds down, though being a father too, it makes it difficult for him to focus solely on the people. Young Prince was a healthy baby boy. It's been months since he was born, what should be causes for joy, is overshadowed by the Sacriran Refuge. The Sacrirans are making their place in Valeish society. Being indoctrinated into Valeish Law Enforcement and Royal Secuirty. Even their agricultural styles are being shared with Valeish farmers.

Change is slow for the Valeish, who like to cling to their ways. Feeling secured by it, knowing it works. Yet change is coming and their society feels it. Even the Sacrirans are influenced by Valeish culture, many adopted speech and literary techniques from their purple-skinned neighbors. While there is problems, Mathias was confident it will be resolved. He knew his people will see the way of tolerance. Though something else disturbed him more.

It's been too quiet. With the murders of his kin still gone unanswered, Mathias fears the worse for his family. There is a calculating monster out in there in the realms. Constantly watching us, waiting for the next strike to be their last. It was ominous, too ominous of late. So much so, that Mathias whisks away and sought out Adarani. He soon found her and spoke, "My dear...I am troubled lately." He spoke his words weighed heavily. "For the first time, in a long while...I am apprehensive." He spoke, his face clearly troubled. He looked to Adarani for comfort and conversation.

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Character Portrait: Mathias Character Portrait: Adarani Character Portrait: Nylia
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So much has happened in such a short amount of time. First, the Chaos Beasts briefly attacked and were repelled. Next, there was the still-unexplained invasion upon Sacrira Neuvi (New Sacrira in the Sacriran language) that was conducted by not only the Betans, but also some other races (whose allegiance was yet to be determined). And then, one of the more critical events (as much as Adarani wished to place the well-being of mortals as her top priority), was the sudden deaths of multiple deities, some of which ignited the extinction of a few mortal races because of the catastrophe. Of course, there were exceptions, such as the Valkyrie, Orcs, and Klik'kik-t, but most whose deities perished died long with them. That very thought frightened her to the core: with the Pantheon in danger, everyone else's fate was at stake, as well. Granted, this would most likely not effect the already dead by much, though she simply could not ignore the happenings in the Middle Realm.

On the matter of the Sacrirans after the Betan invasion, Her initial fears of the remaining residents' new neighbors not getting along with them were subsided once it was clear the Betan Queen had no intention of acting out of malice towards Sacriran Kind while overseeing politics in Sacrira Neuvi/Betannia. Some of the Sacrirans still living on the islands even went so far as to consider themselves Betannites, as to signify the relatively peaceful merging of the two cultures after matters calmed down.

On top of that, the war between the Sacriran Republic and the Sacriran Federation was brought to a peaceful end once the Eastern Consul's dirty work was exposed to the West Consul. Without anywhere else to go due to his hostile actions, Abnersa pleaded guilty in a Valeish Court for disturbing the peace by attacking Hanryyt in a publicly displayed rage, the Teal Eagles escorting the former Consul to his cell after the sentence was declared. Hanryyt himself managed to knock out Abnersa in their brief battle (Hanryyt using the Bo Staff of Davu to effectively block Abnersa's attacks with his katanna) without any serious wounds or injuries.

The merging of culture between the Valeish and what would later be called the Sacriran Refuge, was another story. Unlike the mix of Sacriran and Betan culture, the Sacriran Refuge had to deal with discrimination on a scale completely unexpected, even from the Betans who still held a grudge over the actions of one Sacriran. Despite the obstacles, the discrimination was gradually lessoning, which was a good sign, indeed. Even though tensions may still be present for the next several generations, they would wind up not as intense as before.

---

On a darker note, however, the Intervim who went to intervene in the war between the Aeruman and Alphas had recently gone completely awry. Because of low numbers, they were not supposed to have made themselves seen before engaging in combat. A warning while invisible was fine, but announcing their intents where and when they were open to attack did not strike Adarani as a practical move due to the fact individuals who insist war be waged would inevitably resist. As if that were not enough, that group of intervim was bested so easily, the only explanation would be the mortal race they were briefly facing was created by a being with incredible combat capabilities. As for what that deity is one of, she had no clue.

Of course, she reasoned with herself that she and the rest of the Pantheon would handle this situation with the troublesome newcomer when it came. For now, she had other matters to attend to, among them being the care for the newborn son she gave birth to. It was months since the wedding, which was an event she remembered every detail of. It was a shame Mathias was not there for the delivery, him being busy and all. That in mind, she smiled softly upon seeing her husband arrive to see her at a relatively remote area along a river within the Valley, where she set up a small, simple house so to be closer to him.

The newborn, named Akilleskra, quite truthfully had characteristics of both a Vitaiim and a Valeish, though with stark differences from an actual hybrid. Unlike individuals of Vitaiim blood, Akilleskra's wings (with completely brown colors) can supernaturally vanish when not in use, then reappear for flight. Also, even though Akilleskra has that purple skin the Valeish do, it is barely noticeable and has a reddish shade to it which has the skin come off as pink to people from a distance. As for the hair, it was, oddly enough, naturally brown and black, the two colors forming a striped, zig-zag pattern.

Adarani's smile faltered some at seeing her husband so troubled, and she knew what it was about: the convicted suspect was not the true killer (Adarani did not realize it until too late), meaning the real one was still loose. The lack of activity was rather suspicious. She honestly did not have much to say to Mathias that could possibly make him feel better. Placing Akilleskra in the crib she made (with Loyalty's help), Adarani next walked up to Mathias and smiled gently, hugging Mathias while saying, "I know, and I guess I am at fault for making the wrong assumption about that one suspect when I convicted him guilty. But, whoever the real killer is, we'll eventually find them." After kissing Mathias, she added, "By the way, what do you think of our son, Akilleskra?"

---

Meanwhile, Hanryyt Androscaf na Davutite, along with Nala, the twins Daviko and Netsu, the teenaged Razdan and Ruthumtya, the mighty and powerful Joshuntaf (the Templarim who formerly led the Sacriran Security Force and is now leader of the Protection League), and the cautious Hagara, were all present in front of King Telondris. The reasons: to explain a little bit about the Second Sacriran Order and the Protection League, as well as to discuss what was going on in Sacrira Moutar. Nala, Razdan, and Ruthumtya were told it may be best if everyone else did the talking, for now, since they had yet to fluently speak in the Valeish language, and speaking in the common tongue would prove disastrous.

Brother Hanryyt (as his fellow Sacrirans, aside from people close to him, refer to him) was the one to speak in Valeish to the royal court, his expressions and tone in a friendly manner. "Well, your Majesty, first thing's first: looks like the Sacriran War is officially over. With Abnersa out of the way, The vast majority of the Sacriran Republic, including the Western Consul, saw no reason to continue the war due to a combination of losing trust in their former Eastern Consul and the fact their entire war machine began to crumble within weeks."

He chuckled before adding to the subject with, "I would never have guessed Abnersa would become so desperate as to try the impossible by attempting to convince a massive portion of fellow Sacrirans he deemed traitors to begin with to head back to Sacrira Moutar with him. Nearly every refugee knew that fleeing to escape the war would result in Abnersa branding them as "war lover sympathizers", meaning there was no way a significant portion of the Sacriran Refuge here would be convinced by his words, at all. That, added to the fact he was typically precise and calculating with his plans, aside from his anger sometimes getting the best of him, someone had to have coerced him into such a doomed move, which was never easy to do, I assure you. Unless, someone had the right leverage, which there was not exactly much that could have been used as such to begin with. I won't jump to any conclusions, but I believe that is what likely happened."

From there, Hanryyt went on to tell the royal court on the latest happenings with The Second Sacriran Order (the international Society he himself led, its purpose being the achievement of peace through peace, the way Adarani meant for her Sacriran creations to go about it) and the Protection League (led by Joshuntaf, its purpose being to protect civilians in different nations from harm by soldiers and felons alike whom may intend such). This included some mediation between the two nations on a possible reunification under the banner of a Sacriran Union. With everything addressed that needed to be, Hanryyt placed his left hand and his left together, the Bo Staff held between them while the hands remained straight, prior to bowing his head in respect to the entire court before bidding farewell with, "Serenity and Great Harvests to you."

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Character Portrait: Mathias Character Portrait: Adarani
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Mathias

Mathias took a sigh as Adarani tried to comfort him. He was displeased with how things went. It felt as if their solving of problems only created new ones. What a tiring cycle it was. Mathias's melancholy face lightened when he saw his pride and joy. He was really quite taken back by the uniqueness of the being's appearance. It was rather artistic if he does say so himself. He looked down upon him and gently rubbed his face. "My son." Mathias spoke with a smile. Even though dark clouds loomed in the distance. At least he felt happiness for this brief moment. "He is a fine boy and will grow to be an even finer man." Mathias spoke, forgetting a little bit about the world.

The Valeish

King and Queen Telondris gathered, along with the Nine Noble Heads for the Council. The new Archbishop was present. Already though his approval ratings have been low. Sure Mortimer wasn't propagating racial hate, but his rather hesitant behavior has bothered the citizens. He took no objection to the Sacriran Debate, neither being a supporter or a opponent towards the refugees. At least Abercrombie voice his opinions. Mortimer was too afraid to take any side and his obstructionist ways, kept the Clergy from participating politically anymore. Making the other Bishops rather upset, since many still do not like the Sacrirans. The Chief Magistrate Melchazar was present as well. Coming off the recent trial of Abnersa

The Queen held baby, Prince Darius in her arms during the meeting. King Telondris listened to Hanryyt as he granted him speech. Over the course of the meeting. Several of the Nobles scowled over Hanryyt's insinuations. Even some protesting. "How dare he insinuate the Valeish people had anything to do with this!?" Lord Malachai spoke, clearly upset. "Yes, how rude and insensitive!" Lord Kazarian added. "How low!" Added Lord Vanderpoole. "Such words are sacrilege!" "Do you know slander is an offense!?" Lord Malachai shouted enraged. "My lords, calm thyselves."Lord Asher spoke coolly. "Allow our guest to speak his word." "After all it matters little." Asher spoke soothing the troubled lords. Peace returned to the court.

King Telondris nodded as he listened to Hanryyt. "Well if you suspect such plots, then I will look into it." Nolan responded. "And serenity and great harvests to you as well." Telondris responded as the Sacrirans departed. The King would then consider such clandestine plots. Though who could perpetrate such? Not to mention how would they gain leverage? A mystery indeed.

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Character Portrait: Mathias Character Portrait: Adarani Character Portrait: Nylia
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Adarani nodded with her gentle smile. Akilleskra would definitely be a fine man, one day. There were plenty of teachers and such he could go to if he needed guidance when she and Mathias were not around. Although, something told her that she may not live long enough to see her naturally-born son grow to be an adult. She brushed it aside, however. If it happened, it happened, and there was nothing to do about it if it came. For now, at least, she could take her mind of the darkness of the world. In another room, the tiny dragons given to the couple as wedding gifts were rough-housing mischievously under Davidni's supervision. Not that the now-adult winged canine minded, since he did have a knack for observation and he sort of wanted to try his hand at handling "puppies". (Well, to him, the mini-dragons were pups.) Speaking of puppies, Davidni did mate with a female watchdog from the nearest town and he heard from her that she was expecting a litter. In a way, watching the little dragons were practice for Davidni, in preparation for the real deal. After all, with so much travelling with his new father, the analytical Winged Canine would have to pay extra close attention to the actual litter after it arrives.

As for Angelira, she decided to try her hand at travelling on her own for a bit and ended up at the Kingdom nearby. She changed her humanoid appearance some to look more like her mom, yet she was careful to retain some differences, such as red hair, so not to be confused with Adarani as she walked about town. Angelira first spotted a familiar sight, the new Archbishop. Even though she was now an adult, she still retained a bit of puppy in her, as shown by her wagging her semi-long tail. She walked up to Mortimer and told him in Valeish, "Congratulations on becoming Archbishop, Mortimer! Mother is currently busy, right now, but Big Brother Ahuv should be in the Valley somewhere if you need anything!" Some of the Valeish turned to her in confusion, to which she shrugged with her adorable eyes looking to the side. "Well, like Ahuv, I was created supernaturally, but there is that sibling bond, you know?"

Ahuv came right behind her and said in Sacriran, "Angelira... care not to confuse them so much?"

Angelira sighed. "I know, Big Brother."

Ahuv rolled his eyes in amusement before telling the archbishop, "Well, as Angelira said, she and I are siblings, in a way. There are other Winged Canines like her, but she is actually the first to be doing her own travelling around the world, for a change, instead of accompanying someone."

---

Hanryyt half-expected there to be hostility from the Valeish nobles, as there always was, apparently. In Sacriran, he told Nala, "I knew the nobles here would not take my explanation of Abnersa's desperate attempts so well. They seem to forget that no mortal of any race is perfect. Ande, in case you are wondering why I am speaking in Sacriran and Valeish instead of the common tongue you and I are accustomed to using with one another, well... let's just say the Valeish find it taboo to speak in the Gods' language."

Daviko looked up and asked his father, "Where is the nearest dojo, Dad?"

To which, Hanryyt laughed. "Patience, Daviko! Marilaiku's Dojo is not far from here!"

Ruthumtya lowered her head and sighed before whispering to Razdan, "Marilaiku is my aunt. She means well, but sometimes, she does get on my nerves."

---

Speaking of whom, Marilaiku was walking alongside Kolson and talking a little bit about her family, especially her mischievous niece, Ruthumtya, whom always looked for trouble for fun. "I read in her latest letter she was coming to town with Hagara, her Amare apprentice named Razdan, Protection League founder Joshuntaf, and, of course, Hanryyt Androscaf na Davutite, whom brought his wife and twin children along with him. It had something to do with Abnersa and addressing the circumstances of the war criminal's actions here in the Kingdom, which was the reason for the audience with the King, this morning. Of course, I, too, find how Abnersa behaved before his arrest suspicious, since he is usually one whom is cleverer than that. But, what's done is done, in my opinion. Sacriran Kind is better off without his schemes, that's for sure." In the distance, she noticed familiar faces, then walked up and hugged one of them. "Ruthumtya! How's my mischievous little niece?"

Ruthumtya tried to push her away, yet her strength paled to her aunt's whom did not bail out of mandatory training for a moment in her life. "Aunt Marilaiku... get... off... me...!" Finally breaking free, she glared while saying, [color]"I'm fine, thank you! Sheesh! Why do you have to act like my mom when she's not around."[/color]

Marilaiku smirked a little. "Someone has to, sweetie." Her usual grin came back as she turned to Kolson. "Oh! Where are my manners? Kolson, this is my niece, Ruthumtya, whom I told you about moments ago!"

Ruthumtya managed a hesitant little, "Hi..." before glancing to the side with, "Pardon me if I silent, Mr. Wells. My Valeish not good."

Marilaiku went on to introduce everyone else she was with. Hanryyt and Daviko gave the customary Sacriran bow in greeting, hands flat together and head lowering for a moment. Joshuntaf and Hagara did the same thing when they were introduced.

---

Meanwhile, at the Isle, a Betan noble maiden from he Royal Court was en route back to her estate when a band of robbers attacked. The guards escorting her were outnumbered and it seemed the felon would get away with stealing everything when suddenly, a dart of tranquilizer hit one of the highwaymen and knocked him out. This grabbed the others' attention towards a Templarim in Security Force clothing, whom calmly said to them, "Relax. He's just unconscious, fellas. By the way, isn't it kind of wimpy for you guys to be picking on a girl, anyway?" The brown haired man anticipated the backlash which would come from wearing his uniform, so he interrupted by saying, "History is often exaggerated for some reason or another. After all, what is there for a warlike ruler to gain if he does not twist the truth some? And, isn't history written by the victors, or did I get that wrong?"

The leader of the bandits shouted angrily, "You Sacrirans are here to play vigilante again, are you!? You and your 'Security Force'..."

"Again, a ton of exaggeration. Besides, the Security Force has disbanded." The Templarim, named Jonork, added as he walked up, "Either way, it does not change the fact that nobody else is here to stand up to a bunch of robbers who wait until there are no witnesses in sight. I'd rather avoid a fight if I can, so if you would be so kind as to give her belongings back to her, that would be appreciated."

"Kill him!"

Several minutes later...

Jonork's agility and strength in applying his style of Sacriran martial arts proved efficient, yet without a drop of blood. He did not even need any weapons against the armed felons who wielded heavy spears and axes. All he had to do was use the opponents' strength against them. the whole time, he was not the aggressor but the one delivering counterattacks in the fashion just stated. Eventually, after the bandits were beaten by al the counters, they fled without taking a thing.

Jonork could tell the young lady did not appreciate his presence, yet the ingratitude was understandable. He turned around to face her, genuine smile present, as he posed the query, "Oh? You didn't need my help?"

Setting

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Character Portrait: Jute Character Portrait: Mathias Character Portrait: Othuma Character Portrait: Adarani Character Portrait: Charoum
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The Valeish

It's been tough for the new Archbishop. The National Clergy has felt rather ashamed for the actions of Abercrombie. Especially with the King himself voicing his disappointment. The citizens have felt rather wary of the Church. Though Mortimer has shifted church interest from politics back to religion, many people demand more from their Archbishop. Despite Abercrombie's Scandal, the people felt at peace with the confidence and respect he commanded. Mortimer just wasn't the same man. It also didn't help that he lost the backing of the more influential houses. Especially since the illustrious Lord Asher washed his hands of Mortimer's administration. Many of the Houses went with him. But he wasn't fully alone. Lord Herrock and a few houses actually support Mortimer. Respecting him for returning to what matters most. Helping people affirm their faith in the Gods, and preserve Mathias's teachings.

It was in the main chapel that Mortimer was visited by one of the Divines. Creatures created by the Gods that are very close to their creators. Much like the Twenty-Six Archangels Mathias created. Phalis wasn't quite sure quite sure what to say. The fact a flying dog that talks, was speaking to him was enough to leave him speechless. It was congratulating him? Weird, a Divine would come all the way out here just for that. Then came a Divine Mortimer actually recognized, Ahuv. He's read the legends about the Blue Crane. An old being indeed, but Divines weren't like mortals. They don't age like he does. Like him the other Valeish were rather confused as well. The Clergymen and Bishops were indeed stunned by their arrival. As they mumbled prayers to the Gods while their presence remained. Hoping for good will. Unsure, Phalis Mortimer then clasped his hands together and bowed his head to the two. To show his respect.

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Kolson walked with Marilaiku, as she spoke of her family. Quite the lineage he thought. He wonder if the Valeish will ever be so grand in history. He laughed when appropriate and asked questions often. He was rather fond of the friendship they have made. Though when it may grow even closer than that, Kolson never thought of the day. Not because he found it unthinkable or horrid, but rather unexpected. In the meantime he heard about the Sacriran meeting with the King. Usually prominent Sacrirans meet with King Telondris, the matter serious indeed. "Yes, it will be good for all to have ill plots aside." Kolson concurred.

Then came the her niece she spoke rather highly off. Despite her notoriety. Kolson looked down and smile, "Tis' fine dear child." "It troubles me not." He then chuckled. He did enjoy children, after all he was a teacher. Kolson then met with the rest of her family. The very same prominent Sacrirans at the meeting. It was interesting to meet such people. They bowed to him and he felt rather fluttered. Only lords and kings are bowed to, it made him feel rather special. He then gave a sort of awkward bow in respect to those he met. Hoping it was customary.

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Othuma

There he sat upon his black, twisted throne. At the moment he knew not where Chrysalis lied but at the moment the mighty God of Death was visited upon. His visitors have come with purpose, purpose that will prove to be very valuable to Othuma. Othuma seeks to build an army, the very thing Chrysalis told him that will be able to enforce his rule upon others. The world will tremble if he had such might, the might found in numbers and weapons. The pieces were coming together. It first started when the Dragons found intruders upon the frozen lands. A race of warriors from the south. The Dragons did not understood what they spoke but knew they were skilled fighters.

Othuma visited the site of where one fell. He found the drifting soul amongst the frozen winds. Unable to carry on. Othuma could have helped him, but had other plans. He took the soul and twisted it, bound it to whatever remains he could find. Then created a monster no longer living, but not dead either. It was the first Draugen and it had no recollection of it's former life. Though looked forward to it's new one. It had the soul of the warrior and it sought conquest and plunder. It was a good first step. Though Othuma would need more souls.

It was later back in his dark palace of Stygia, that an opportunity arisen. Othuma was visited by a race of beings called Orcs. They wore the furs of bears, wolves, and other furry animals to protect them from the cold. They were directed by the Werebear tribes to this location. They sought an audience with Othuma. One of them stood out from the rest, the leader of their tribe, Nagresh Blackblood. "Lord Othuma, God of Death." "Chief Slayer and God Slayer." Nagresh spoke. "I am Nagresh Blackblood, leader of the Blackblood tribe." "I have come from the lands far to the south, past your frozen sea." "I seek an audience with you." Nagresh spoke. "Then speak Orc Chief and tell me what is your business." Othuma spoke his voice ever so indulgent.

Nagresh bared a crooked grin then spoke, "You see I came upon your lands and I do say sorry for the matter of business we've had with your people," he then paused, "We had not known they were your followers." "We did not kill though we did harm and destroyed, but they spoke of you and we know that you we wanted to see." Nagresh spoke. "Yes, I may forgive your transgressions if you tell me of your goals." Othuma slowly and eloquently spoke. "Yes lord, we wanted to meet the slayer of Durotan and his special godly ally." "We hated Durotan!" "He banished us from our homes!" "Because I disagreed with him and dishonored him greatly!" "I wanted revenge so desperately!" "Though when I arrived I saw what you did!" "You killed that wretch and the bastard child!" "You gave me what I always wanted!" "Now I want to repay you." Nagresh spoke rather excitedly.

Othuma rubbed his chin and hummed. "Hm, very well what payment do you have in mind?" Othuma asked. "I and my tribe shall hereby honor you!" "By pledging ourselves to you, my lord!" Nagresh did bow along with the entire nomadic tribe of orcs. "We are your servants!" Nagresh exclaimed. Othuma then gave a gleeful laugh. "Rise Nagresh Blackblood!" "Rise and be merry!" "You are accepted under my rule." "So long as you obey my every word, correct?" Othuma spoke as he stood and held out his arms in an encompassing manner. "Yes of course master!" Nagresh spoke very excitedly. They rose and saluted the God of Death. "Then you may make home in the city below, unless it's not to your liking?" Othuma asked. "No lord it will be great!" Nagresh spoke as they were dismissed.

Soon Othuma was visited by his first ally, Frostwing. The Ice Dragon assumed a humanoid form, much akin to the gods. He was tall and fair, his body slim and his hair long and white. His skin was pale and his eyes an ever paler blue. He was surrounded by an entourage of other dragons assuming similar form. As well as several true forms flying above his palace. "Frostwing." "What an excellent surprise." Othuma spoke addressing the Brood Father. "Greetings Lord Othuma." Frostwing bowed as his long, flowing blue robes, embroidered with golden trims and emblazoned with golden buttons, flowed like a waterfall. Upon his head was a pointed crown made of ice, signifying his kingship over the Blue Dragons, shifted towards Othuma. Then he stood upright and spoke, "I could not but help overhear of the Orcs binding to your will." Frostwing spoke his voice cold and chilling. "Yes, and quite the spectacle." Othuma spoke. "Yes and their numbers are larger that I would have expected to survive out in the cold." Frostwing commented.

"Truly, but huddling in numbers does provide warmth, which is what I suspect." Othuma spoke. "Tell me, are you here for dropping eaves or-?" Othuma asked. "Quite more my lord." "I present a similar gift." Frostwing spoke as he raised his arm. "Enter!" The Brood Father commanded. What came next was truly a spectacle. Dragons smaller than the ones outside, that walk on two legs, wearing armor and wielding weapons. They entered and kneeled before him. "The Dragonkin, spawn of my own that are more suited to a soldiers life." "They are yours and whatever of my kin I can spare to aid you." "I understand you wish for an army, I hope I have provided some relief to your desires." Frostwing spoke. "Most generous Frostwing, most generous indeed!" "I will use them well." Othuma spoke with a smile. Frostwing bowed, "Thank you my Lord." "I shall return to my palace as well." Frostwing then retired as one of the Dragons stayed behind.

"Greetings my lord." The female dragon spoke as she bowed. Dressed in similar garb though without a crown. "I am your messenger between the Azure Brood and yourself." "If you need anything from the Brood Father I shall relay the message." She spoke as she bowed and stood aside. Othuma then dismissed the Dragonkin. An army was forming right before him. Though one more crucial element was missing. He needed footsoldiers. Sure he could use these people, but Othuma had something more expendable in mind. Something he made not too long ago.