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[Ardas]

Strange being, this one, thought Aradan to himself.

"I am a deity. A patron spirit of this village, I look after these people and they worsahip me in return. I am one, singular of mind and of voice, unlike you. You speak with many voices and many minds. what are you, Ydgrass and what is your purpose here?"

[Ghazkull]

Silence, a long silence.

Careful. Unsure. We are. Ygdrass.

We. Are. Many. Yet. One.

Confused. Purpose?

Assumptions. We have no. Purpose.

Curious. Interested. Worship? Patron Spirit? We are. Spirit.

We are many. Spirits.

[Ardas]

Aradan was intigued but wary of this "spirit" or rather spirits. He sensed no chaos or disorganization - truly this entity was of nature. He felt no ill will towards it.

"As long as you live in peace with this village you have nothing ot fear and can freely looka round and interact. But I must warn you against direct interfering with any of the people living here. They are simple folk who must unlock thier potential independnetly. I am their patron and guardian, but I want to nurture their talents, not cuddle them. Remain invisible to them and you can remain."

[Ghazkull]

Knowing. Feeling. Their. Souls. Leaving.

Souls. Going Nowhere. Salvation. Gone.

We. Can. Take in. Souls.

Hold them. Save. Them.

You. Patron Spirit. We. Death. Spirits. Nature. Spirits.

[Ardas]

"Salvation? You intend to keep their souls here? "

Aradan thought about this possibility. It took him less than a second to think it through.

"I cannot agree to this. I will not violate natural order of the Universe. Souls of the dead must depart to afterlife for their rest. If this were to be disturbed, I would be forced to keep mortal spirits safe somehow. But as long as the passage to afterlife is open, I will not dam the flow of souls."

With that, Aradan took off in his eagle form and flew north, where he was beckoned. He was not surprised when he found that the calling came from the tribe of Alandios. He landed on the tree nearby the tribe village and made his presence known with his aura in the aether, awaiting Alandios. In the meantime, he observed as people on the ground played some game. They used pieces and a regular grid to move those pieces. He was intrigued by it, he liked the way pieces moved and the ordered rules of the game itself.

Go north for the meeting with the other two gods.

[Shootandrun]

An old man walked out of the crowd - another stranger, who was not from the Alandian tribe. He was clad all in gray, from head to bottom, and his beard was as gray as his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was soft, yet it had the edge of command.

"I would like to play."

Without waiting for permission, he sat down and started organizing the pieces - his eyes did not leave his opponent for a second, however. Bright gray eyes, containing keen intelligence, and wisdom which came only with ages. Bright gray eyes, which seemed to stare not at the man, but at his soul.

"They will not hear us speak - they will only see two strangers, playing chess in silence. I do believe the Other has also arrived. Indeed, he is watching us just now."

The old man made his first move, but by now he was but a small distraction in the mind of Alandios. The God was satisfied - the other two had come, and they were ready to listen. So far, all was well. What they would say, however, he could not predict - it was somewhat unsettling, to speak with another sentient being without being able to read his thoughts. Unsettling indeed. However, now was not the time to dwell on such thoughts - they were waiting for him to speak.

"A tribe lays to the east of this one. Strong, and populous. Their patron god gave them the gift of agriculture, which brought them plenty. That patron god is gone - dead, I believe, if the words apply to such beings as us. I do not feel him anywhere, and his essence was replaced by something very different - though it is too far for me to tell clearly, I know that being is not the same as the one who gave agriculture to his tribe. If something could slay him during his sleep, the same can be done to us - and that I have no desire for.

What I wish to propose is this. An alliance. Unity in strength. If we share our powers and our followers, we will all come out stronger - less vulnerable."

The gray man moved his hunter as Alandios spoke through his mind. As his opponent's turn began, the God waited for the others to reply.

[Fniff]

Teneia wondered what she was meant to do.

Teneia was not like a lot of Gods in the multiverse. From the smallest spirit to the largest universe-eating god, all of them basically knew what they were doing. They were very proud of that fact. They had plans, schemes, and an incredibly exaggerated sense of their destinies. The goddess of darkness was not like this at all. She was in fact a complete mess by God standards. Doubt crawled across her mind like a snake, and it was always her that it bit. She was always afraid that she would ruin everything, drop the vase and break it in half, except the vase was the entire universe, and it was just all too much for her.

Now she had a child that was liberally murdering people from outside the village. She would have panicked if she had a child in general, but this situation was so bad because the child was a serial killer. Most gods would have shrugged and left the village to fend for themselves, but Teneia did at least have a sense of responsibility to her. Particularly, to Lilith.

Lilith. The bastard child, shouldn't have existed, a nasty amalgamation of godlike power and humanity in general, neither of which really lent itself to kindness and love. Teneia really shouldn't have put that much effort into trying to help Lilith, but when Teneia looked into her strange cat-like eyes, she saw herself there and she felt something sting inside. She was her daughter, bastard or not. Sad to say, Teneia loved her and knew Lilith loved her back. They were this close, this close to being an actual family. But the killer was in there, either planted by her father or bad luck, and it would kill anything that Teneia forgot to mention in her teachings. The villagers were getting worse now, more frightened by the day. Lilith had to be dealt with.

That was going to be a problem. How many times were they going to go over "do not kill" until Teneia realized it was pointless? Lilith was Lilith. Maybe if she had been there since the beginning this path could have been averted but that was too long gone. Even if she didn't kill, the villagers were still terrified of their own shadows, and she had only so much time before she would go to sleep once again and find herself dreaming again, which she didn't really like that much since she had spent so long doing it.

An idea occurred to her. Why bring the horse to the river when you can bring the river to the horse? Lilith only killed the outsiders trying to enter the forest. If the villagers believed themselves to be made safe by some spell or something, then they wouldn't fear. Plus, a few added features wouldn't go amiss either... Yes, this could be a good idea. Or it would crash and burn.

Teneia wished she had an honest-to-gods friend. Someone to talk to about these sort of things. Oh well, even the Gods don't get what they want sometimes.
Welst, of the Fox, was a tall spindly man with extremely pale skin and blackish hair with streaks of color, the shade of which changed depending on what "holy ritual" blew up in his face spectacularly and covered in his skin in red, orange, pink and other colors. Welst was a shaman, and not  the best one in the business all told. Really, there simply wasn't much demand in these parts for shamans, since the gods did not really visit here. There was that one Teneia many moons ago, though that was less of a God and more of a fluke. A beneficial fluke but a fluke nonetheless.

The Guardians of the Forest had no gods except for the forest itself, which had betrayed them and started killing them. Some of the more rebellious citizens had decided to damn the whole thing and declared themselves something called an "Ate-ee-ist", which was named after Atyist, son of Yevil. Welst at this point didn't really care about them preaching that the Gods were in fact all idiots or horrible, because he was now subscribing to the same viewpoint. Gods were all pricks and deserved the same amount of worship was you would give a wolf. Mild admiration, but mostly terror and anger.

So when a girl in black clothing with purely black eyes and hair suddenly appeared in front of him in a very godly manner, he immediately dropped to his knees and bowed, repeating "Oh no, oh no, don't kill me, I'll serve you, please, don't kill me!". You could say a lot about Welst, he knew which side to pick and the side with the god on it was always the best choice.

"What is it with you humans and bowing?" the girl shook her head. "I swear, you'd bow if you saw a particularly godly looking shrubbery or something."

"... Can I stop bowing now?" Welst whimpered.

"Yes, that would be very wise."

Welst got up very slowly. "Er, which one are you?" He asked.

"... My name's Teneia, if that helps." She said.

"Oh. Oh! Thought you were dead."

"I suppose that's technically right."

"... Well, er. Have you come to live with us again?"

"No, that was a bad idea and I'm not going to repeat it... Not that you were any problem, or anything."

"We try our best."

"Good. I heard you had a problem with my daughter."

"Er, who would that be?"

"Lilith. The one who is murdering people."

"Oh. Yes, it's a bit... understated to call it a problem, but keep going."

"I can understand why you are afraid of her, but I have a solution. It'll change this tribe for the better. You will no longer fear the darkness and the forest, for you will be the forest and the darkness!" Teneia said with a smile. This god was very merchantile.

"You're going to turn us into dryads?" suggested Welst.

"Er, no. Whatever a dryad is, it's probably not what I'm talking about. No, this shall be the thing that defines you and your tribe. For you see, you will gain the Mark Of Teneia."

"... Explain further?"

Teneia did so.

Welst stared, then thought. He nodded, then smiled. "I think I'll talk this over with the tribesmen."

Teneia smiled with him. "You're a very smart man."

Teneia gives the Guardians of the Forest the Mark of Teneia that will become a genetic trademark of the Guardians.

Spoiler: The Mark of Teneia (click to show/hide)

Those with the mark will gain cat-like eyes, ears and a tail. Those with the mark are naturally stealthy and quiet, able to sneak by unnoticed where most men would be discovered. They also have excellent nightvision.

[Digital Hellhound]

The Autarch studied the board in silence, showing no reaction. Then he shook his head, and spoke aloud;

'Let them hear us. They are your people, are they not?' he said, softly, at the edge of the villagers' hearing. The god smiled and adopted a jovial tone. 'This is a fine game. They do not have much, but this I find pleasing. I think I'm growing rather good at it.'

He moved a hunter in turn and kept his gaze on the board for a while longer. His smile had gone by the time he looked back up.

'I will hear your words, but I am at a disadvantage here. Who are you, and who is this Other you speak of?'

[Caesar]

The crows had told Feinor of the approaching stranger even before he arrived. While, at first, this had seemed like an almost irrelevant fact, he changed his mind upon hearing how the old man had bested Feman. Feinor considered Feman arrogant when it came to chess, and knew him to be a boaster. He was, however, also aware of the fact that Feman had at least some right to boast, for he was a skilled opponent. Feinor remained unbeaten, but Feman had inspired him to become even better, and for that he respected the hunter.

He dusted off his robes as he got to his feet, examining the clearing. He felt connected to this spot, and for a moment he stood there, breathing in deeply as he let his thoughts wash over him. His father first took him here when he was a child. Always alone, he had explored the area. He knew every tree, every upturned rock and even where the animals burrowed. Yet what amazed him most was that the knowledge could be outdated, that he would always come to find a nest in a completely new location, a stone where it had not been before. Now, children from the tribe would come here to visit him. He was not their father – he did not believe that he would ever be a father – but it felt good to know that there were some youngsters who looked up to him. With the next breath he was already making his way to the village, his mind cleared. He had a visitor to greet.

When he arrived he found that a large portion of the tribe was gathered around one point in the middle of the village. This was usual only when a most interesting chest match was ongoing, or when he addressed the tribe. And, of course, during the festivities that were common to the tribe. He usually did not participate in such events, spending most of his time during day away to address the tribes problem's or meditate over their solutions, sometimes just receiving questions and giving out advice. Most of the nights he spent with his wife, talking, laughing, sleeping. Sometimes he tried to cook for her so that she could have some rest, but if there was one skill that he did not seem to be able to master, it was that skill. Over the years, he had grown a considerate and calm man, although he had his outbursts of laughter. Mostly, during chess. Strangely, he did not feel like he had changed physically at all after reaching his prime.

When he approached the crowd he noticed the source of the commotion. Feman was nowhere to be seen, but two older men were. He approached them confidently, and there was no hostility in his posture as he sat down on the ground with them. One could easily mistake him for just another villager, especially since he looked too young to make for a shaman. "Welcome. I see that you have taken a liking to this game. We are quite fond of it here." He looked towards Unsobar, smiling politely. "I hear that you have beaten Feman. He is, perhaps, the best player in this village. Is this game common where you are from, traveler?" Of course it wasn't. But the way these men acted had made him curious, not to mention the ease with which they had mastered a game that was without doubt foreign to them.

He looked between them again, waiting for either one of them to tell their story.

Feinor comes down to the Alandian village to meet the two Gods, Unsobar and Alandios, in person.

[Digital Hellhound]

A flash of irritation appeared on the Autarch's ageless features, turning into a smile of pleased surprise as he studied Feinor.

'The youth from before? It was nothing but blind luck, shaman,' he said. 'For are you not Feinor? The great and wise shaman, who has kept his people well in ignorance and misguided trust? You keep the seeing stones out of their grasp to protect them, no doubt. Truly a laudable act. I am ever grateful for the hospitality of your tribe.'

[Caesar]

Feinor frowned lightly at these words/ That had been his father's action, and his father had only kept the Alandium crystals from the villagers because, before him, his father had done the same, just like his ancestors in turn. With the spreading of the crystal by the sacred owls, however, Feinor had offered the villagers use of the crystals. For it seemed cleared to him that Alandios had had different plans. Most of the tribesmen, however, had preferred for him to maintain the knowledge they gathered, and so few others than him used the crystal. But they were used.

"When you call out a flaw in someone's person, it is nothing but wisdom to not possess the same flaw which you attribute to them. In calling these people-" he gestured at the gathered villagers "- misguided and ignorant, your own ignorance becomes quite clear." He laughed, and examined the chess board for a few moments as he thought. He concluded that the person with whom he spoke was one of the spirits, or at least a vessel of one. Why? For he knew things that others did not. Digging through his memory, he made the presumption that this god would be Unsobar, based on the way in which the old man had tried to provoke him.

"My people are, indeed, hospitable. You might even say that they would let in a snake-" Would this provoke a reaction? "- and I can not hold that against them." Some of the villagers whispered among each other. It seemed that they were enjoying the unfolding conversation. "Are you in need of a meal, traveler? You must be weary, and we seldom get visits."

[Digital Hellhound]

If the Autarch was surprised, he gave no sign. Smiling his predatory unsmile, he let his gaze wander over the villagers.

'Snakes have an unfortunate habit of biting those who assume them safe and harmless. But, I am pleased to hear of your newfound generosity. Many of your kin do guard their secrets so fiercely...' he said. 'I must decline your offer of a meal, shaman. It would be rude to leave a game unfinished, especially with such a skilled opponent.'

He gestured towards the other god, watching him expectantly.

[Shootandrun]

The old man glanced at Unsobar when he received the question. He knew the names of most gods in this land - his owls had told him, and he did not forget things easily - but they did not seem very important to him. For half a second he seemed very puzzled indeed, but understanding dawned upon him quickly enough. It seemed the other god gave importance to names, much like the mortals - a strange characteristic, but it did not bother him to identify himself.

"Well, if you must ask, my name is..."

But before he could finish, a man interrupted him by sitting down next to them. The man was Feinor - the tribe's shaman. Alandios frowned at that - he had not always been pleased with the actions of some of the tribe's shamans, but this one seemed competent enough. However, the other player seemed to alienate him slightly - and Alandios's frown deepened further when Feinor called Unsobar a snake. An insult, but perhaps one meant to imply he knew many things. Perhaps, if this was the case, honesty was the way forward. Unlike the other two, he was direct - lies and hidden truth were a barrier to knowledge, and as such they were not his way.

This time, he made sure the villagers would not hear, or that what they would hear would hold little to no truth; but Feinor he left untouched, for he had taken an interest in the shaman.

"To answer your question, Unsobar, my name is Alandios. The one who will be joining us goes by the name of Aradan, I believe, and he should manifest himself soon enough. As for your invitation, Feinor, I must also decline - I am not hungry. I would appreciate if you remained with us, however. The words to be exchanged here may be of interest to you, and you might have an opinion of your own to manifest."

[adwarf]

The Ferryman paused, and cocked his head to the side, it was confusion that slowed him, why would the god ask him this when the answer was all so evident? Why would such a being not understand the work he did? Tapping his foot slightly the Ferryman sat down in the entrance of the tunnel, after a long silence he finally spoke,

"I do it because it is my duty, for even we Gods sleep so why should the mortals never feel true rest? Because they were created by gods themselves, or is the reason because the Gods feel selfish, clutching to such a small scrap to help them further define themselves, or perhaps it is a desire of power to keep the souls of the living?

I do it because the mortals deserve a true place of rest, a place where their souls, the only things that will ever truly belong to them entirely, can rest in peace and glorious respite from the ploys of Gods. It is they that will decide our fate, and yet they are so frail before the power Gods can wield, it gives me a desire to protect them even though this is the only act of protection I can give them.

If I do not protect their souls from those would seek to rip their souls from the natural cycle then for what purpose was I born? Every god needs a purpose and I chose mine, I chose to protect these souls from all for there is no other place than the afterlife and the cycle of rebirth that they should go to unless willing to choose to break the cycle.

For this I vow, and you shall be the first of the gods I tell, any who break the cycle of life of a soul when that soul is unwilling to break it shall feel my wrath. There will be no afterlife for the ones who go against these words, there will be pain beyond imagining and their existence will cease to exist. Now come from unpleasant things, you have shown me your true form I shall do so in kind, behold the form of Zantaware the God of the Afterlife."

With that he rose, and as he did so the robes of a ferryman melted away only to be replaced by a cloak of shadows, hood down, and the faint clinking of the chains and shackles upon the God's wrist. In his hands he clasped a scythe, towering over him, with its crimson blade sparkling faintly in the light from the Well of Souls. He seemed calm at first, but upon a closer look the fellow god could feel a burning rage at the mere thought of such an act.

[micelus]

The Broker looked at this Zantaware incredulously.

"You wish to give respite to the souls of mortals? I...I do not see at all how such a concept matters. Their soul is not...sentient. It's just a collection of memories and experiences. By allowing them consciousness in the afterlife you do not allow the mortal a deserved rest but simply...a false life. A...mere copy of the original. False. Why should anything exist after it's natural life has depleted? Even us gods should not be exempt from such things. I would not want such a fate for anything...to be torn from the mortal world would be great sin, a great sin...By keeping the souls on the mortal plane, the remains of an individual can be put to use. They can retain their legacy. They can be useful."

The Broker inwardly sighed. "But enough of that I guess, I don't think we'll ever agree on that matter. It would not be good for the world if we did, I guess. A balance is needed between all things."