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___youwillknownihilism Captain
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2016 10:52 am
"Kings of the East, Scepters in hand." From the perspective of Aelothari Things with Elessia were difficult for us all. On the one hand, she was strong and ambitious, wanting to do good in her heart even if she had done so in an admittedly stupid way. I believed she wanted the best. On the other hand, she created so much violence and death, and would have continued to destroy the very world she wanted to rule so badly. I and my peers stood on the precipice of interfering when the God-Killers, as they are knonw, brought down the false ruler, and in doing so freed our creator. I wanted, so badly, to cast my hand in with Justor, but at his behest I did naught but stay in the backgroud, along side plenty of others who had little to no influence. Now that things have shifted with Michael being gone and Antony ruling Vangelism, I and the other lower order Gods have become more prevalent.
I wish it need not be this way, however.
A year has passed since Elessia died, and the world I love is in just as much turmoil as before. A plague born of something supernatural and vile ravages Kenai, killing even those not given to sickness. The Federation of Yuran, as they are now called, is fresh off of a political upheval that put the people in charge of itself. They were ill equipped, as was Kranila, when sickness spread like wild fire. I spend my days and nights tirelessly working in the name of Justor to heal and cure but try as I do, I cannot break this curse alone. I have suspicions as to who is responsible... but I cannot fathom why now, out of all this time, she would come back again. I have no time to fight a war. It is mine to protect and heal. Now is when the plane must again rise and fight for itself.
I pray, however, that the heroes of the world move swiftly. Kenai cannot fight, cannot survive in this condition much longer. I must send agents to find her... and to stomp her out.
From the perspective of Bjorn
I see the world through the eyes of a hunter. That is to say, the drama of Elessia never bothered me. It didn't bother me when she challenged me and it didn't bother me when I bested her and she left me alone in hell, back to do what I desire. I have always desired to hunt and kill the hierarchies of monsters worth my time. Ever since my eyes opened, it has been my calling. Somewhere along the lines, however, I became a symbol of something greater to many millions of men and monsters alike.
Let them praise me, and I will take solace in giving them a reason to. It is for this reason that I left hell through the gate at the bottom of the sea, for that reason that I swatted the monsters who guard it aside and let them live only for fear... no only for respect for the Goddess of Wrath, and waded through the sea bed until I reached shore in Nocturne. To see the city that was once my stomping grounds in such turmoil harmed me, but to see so many of the race known as "Fairhairs," my only creations, alive and well swelled my pride. They quarrel there in the City over who will wear the crown. They kill and hunt, my kind of place. I sit in Jorsul, biding time while I seek out bigger fish than what I slew on the second plane. The kind of Godly status. The kind I can sense in the eastern lands, sitting in the desert. I will hunt the agents of chaos who cause such anarchy for no reason but to satisfy myself.
Whoever comes to rule Nocturne bothers me not truth be told. Far more interesting is the smell of new prey in the East.
From the perspective of Uriel
It was known that I served Elessia. Less so that I was behind Narathos during his reign, but never the less I have been welcomed into the fold of Vangelism, championing the Pantheon besides the Golden Boy himself, and our "siblings." I reside in Fraxon, avoiding the ever watchful eyes of the protector of the plane Maria and her ilk. Mazdakism is not something I agree with, obviously but I steer clear of them, and they steer clear of me. The zealots below me in Fraxon seem to want the opposite: they want holy war. They want to erase those who have left for the new gods, and I cannot say I disagree that they should be stomped out. I am duty bound to want the same. My followers beg me for direction, and I think I will give it to them. Division will destroy us all, and I will usher in either a resurgence of Vangelism, or that very destruction. Antony disagrees with my zealous approach, accusing me of holding to dear the ideals that nearly wiped us all out. I see his point and raise him that, like Michael, he does not take the threats seriously enough.
It is perhaps true that we are both right. Perhaps it is neither. Perhaps, as we can all sense from time to time, something wicked in the east is behind the unrest in the rest of the world and we are playing into it's hands. Only time knows the answer, and she is not so forthcoming.
xxSUMMARY
A long and tumultuous year has passed since Elessia died. Kenai is in a state of disarray as a plague threatens to destroy them all, and the cause is none other than a god of disease herself. Fraxon is split down the middle, with half the worshipers of Vangelism, and half of Mazdakism. This division, this Great Schism threatens to cause a holy war that could undo the fabrics holding the most advanced nation together, and soon the gods will no longer be able to be impartial. Nocturne is ravaged by internal strife as every duke, vampire lord, Fairhair Alpha, and marked one vies for control in a bloodsport the likes of which would make Rakdos proud. At the center of it all, common among everyone of higher power is a sense of foreboding originating in the Eastern hemisphere. Whatever is causing worldy drama this time... it is somewhere to the east.
As a sidenote, the Wurms are a big issue for those RPCs currently in the east, a more pressing issue than a god.
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Posted: Tue Jun 11, 2019 10:20 pm
"This won't do."  From the perspective of Samael I stand on the edge as always, walking near the line drawn in the sand but always on the right side of it. Where I could see truth. Where the lies couldn't reach me. It's funny that those who play both sides of the fence are drawn here, where they can deceive and lie. Where they are under the greatest scrutiny in all the realms. Where the judge of Vangelism can bear down upon them. Today, I stand where few have been allowed. Outside of the writhing mass of threads and... and events of the future and past. Where it all twists and ties the third, second and first planes. Where the lies and truths are ALL subjective. A place that was foreign to me.
Chronomass.
"This is where you are when we cannot find you?" I asked her. Before she spoke I pierced into her heart. A lie simply wouldn't do, even from one as powerful as her. Draconian as I was acting, it was necessary.
"Yes, Samael. This is my Realm. The Chronomass is where I exist."
"And why am I here?" I asked, only vaguely remembering being ripped from a battlefield, or what would become a battlefield, in a flash of green. The elderblood, my sister's power. Elessia's power.
"Because... because I am tasked with protecting this plane the same as you... and we have failed." She didn't look at me, instead peering through time and pulling once more with power that wasn't hers to hold. "Spare yourself the question. I do not have much in the way of time."
"Idle words from you," I replied, but remained patient as she touched the chronomass before us, sending a ripple that saw be blinded. Once more we moved... then again and again before I could keep up. Pages turning backwards, senses upended and reorganized until we stood... in the second plane?
And we were not alone. Bickering had already begun.
"There is nothing to talk about, Raphael. Order be damned, I'm going to kill her right now!" screamed Maria, Goddess of the Sea as she flung herself from one end of the Acropolis to the other towards someone I could understand the rancor that Wrath herself was centered on.
Kali.
"Enough!" Raphael roared shaking the very foundation of the Extinction of Want, his domain. A bolt of lightning reached out in a powerful arc, striking Maria enough to stop her advance. Niraliel sighed. Then there was a boom of her power beside me, her hand flipping an hourglass and a small divot in my awareness.
We entered into the room earlier in the argument. "Niraliel said if we don't work together, we will all be destroyed," pleaded a dark voice which bore with it the screams of millions... maybe more. Catherine stood before the table, unbothered by the weapons drawn on her by the Mazdakii guards. Her form was as pretentious as a death-gods should be: black dress hugging her every curve, long dark locs falling over pale, porcelain features.
"What, you trust the Vangelists now?" This voice fire and brimstone, slick like that of a lawyer but strong like a loan shark. Deceitful with truth. Despicable. Respectable. The reply was sharp from my elder brother, Antony. The golden boy. Dressed in his typical... just a single gauntlet on his upper body and gladiator pants and shoes.
"Yes, she does, because she isn't an idiot. She shes beyond time and eternity. Her intervention, drawing on the powers of her dead twin sister, should be taken with weight." As of yet, we were unnoticed, and I took the moment to take in present company. Antony, leader of Vangelism, Alistair, God of Fire and Contracts, Maria, Goddess of Wrath and the Ocean... and self proclaimed protector of the plane, Catherine, Goddess of the Dead, Justor, God of the Moon and Fertility, Raphael, God of Order who commanded these lands, and immediately as we walked to the table, Kali... "goddess" of power. Maria just about exploded when Kali blinked into existence, far from comprehendable as living with the way she looked like a doll, with features that barely seemed to change at all. "Whoever brought us here, for whatever reason, has officially lost their mind," Maria spat calling a godly armament to her hands, a Bident as blue as the sea, and just as beautiful as the mortal-turned-goddess who commanded it. Her seashell bra and flowing dress did not betray her powerful status, even here in someone else's domain.
"This will not do," Niraliel spoke as she cut into their little disagreement. "Calm yourself, Maria." Raphael, who was about to speak from his side of the circle that had formed, nodded to her. "I promise you this: everyone of us here, and perhaps even more of our peers, should parlay as I have requested. I bring news from outside time. News of the end." Everyone fell uncharacteristically silent. Alistair exhaled smoke from his nostrils, his suit and tie appropriate to say the least of him.
"What do you mean, sister," Antony asked first, opening the floor for Niraliel to continue. She walked to the center of the circle, allowing her hourglass to float beside her and seeming to carry a rift in the very world in her hand.
"One single years time from Elessia's death, just two short months for you but forever for me, the world itself very much does end. Unraveled by a foolhardy man from the East named Makassar. A fool who found a power ancient and buried in the world before even Fenrir and his reign. Before Narathos and Kali and Malacai even. Whatever it was, I could never see, but I know it's power is enough to make him stronger than any of us... even all of us together. Strong enough to build something outside of the Chronomass from the ruins of our world. It's too late to stop that timeline from ending, but not to stop Makassar himself. Don't worry about the logistics of time travel. Suffice it to say I am it's keeper, so time is whatever I want it to be, tangled and generally screwed up as it is. Instead, worry about the second chance you've been given."
"So... you brought us all here to work against this Makassar? Why don't we just go and end him?" Maria asked, every the little soldier.
"Here here," Catherine added. Niraliel opened the tear wider so we could see it clearly. "Because you tried and failed the last time." All of us here. Dead in the ruins of Amaranthine. Particularly for myself, seeing dead gods was jarring. Myself and Antony had so seldom seen it happen... we truly believed ourselves above the concerns of mortality.
And now we all were reminded there was one true god and he left us. "What could possibly be that strong?" Raphael asked pointedly.
"I cannot see it. Or rather, seeing it isn't something that is allowed. I have laws and fundamental rules built in. We all do. It's why we cannot fight against this. I cannot intervene more than this," she said and suddenly I saw her outlined in red, with her heartbeat in my ear.
"Only half true," I cut in. Antony smirked.
"Okay, I can but I will not do anything else to muckup the timeline," she corrected. "Beyond bring you here, the last ones to stand against him. Antony, your power as the leader of Vangelism is needed." She turned to Catherine, blond hair moving in slow motion... as with the rest of her. How hadn't I noticed that before? "As is yours as the functioning head of Vaet Nocturnum. Your war must be held. And you, Raphael, beyond serving as an arbiter for the deals, and you to draw them up Alistair, we will need all of the Mazdakii united. Particularly, with Kali I need these hachets momentarily buried.
Silence. "Or we can all die?" Alistair inquired. Niraliel nodded.
Another half truth and I suspected the reason was to spare us knowledge that death wasn't all. She snapped, and a girl appeared, suspended in a bubble of see through sand. "My only surviving agent, too, will be released into the world, acting on my behalf. I highly suggest that you gather your champions, send them into the east to oppose Makassar and his allies. They may be our only hope. They don't have the same limits. They can stand against him and his armies with their own, they can inquire. They can fight against those gods who might throw in with Makassar. Disrupt his plans while we act against him." She looked at her hourglass, which had nearly emptied itself. "Act fast. One year," she spoke creating another one in the center of the room, presumably with less than a year of sand left to fall. As hers emptied, she faded from the room. Which left us to look among ourselves for answers she hadn't prepped us nearly enough for.
xxSUMMARY
Whatever his plan, Makassar has won, and Niraliel has given the planes one last chance. Whether Antony, Catherine, Raphael, Maria, Kali Samael and Alistair can wrangle their allies remains to be seen, but whatever their plan the gods of the realm are now in just as much danger as it's mortals...
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___youwillknownihilism Captain
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