You stand shock still in the street, the memories coming back to you. The battle. The blood, the glory. And then....... nothing. You failed your people. Or did they fail you? It is irrelevant now.
You woke to a world of blood and flames. Disorientated and weak, you left the cave in which you had lain and stumbled out onto the mountainside, only to find the rainforest which was once your home gone. At your feet was instead a concrete jungle, a place of ruin and stink, and it fell even as you watched. From the skies above descended hordes of beings - not men, but imaginings of men. And the ground below was rent by thunder and the demons of Hell broke lose to meet the hosts of Heaven. The clash raged for nearly a week, the city that was the battleground crumbling before your eyes in flashes of lightning and fire. In your weakened state it was all that you could do to remain unseen. But when the smoke finally began to thin, there was no victorious side, no clear winner. Angels and demons alike fell into clouds of aether, and those that had not stood stranded in the streets below. The streets where you now stood.
It was 2 days ago that you finally descended from the mountain from which you had surveyed the battle. And now you stood here, in a barren city surrounded by enemies and madmen. It was 30 days since the battle, as you knew from the whispers of the man who hid in the sewers below. The fool. He thought himself to be safe. Did he not realise that he only still lived because the divine deemed him too little trouble? You stopped that thought at once. He was part of humanities fighting spirit, as meager as he may seem. And you had once represented this. Whether you still did after your slumber was not yet clear. But first, you had to decide where to begin. The city was on it's knees, as were it's people. There was, of course, the sewer man. But you sensed also a being in the old warehouse to your right, a divine, weaker than even you. Perhaps one injured during the battle. And straight ahead lay a square. Filled with divines, and powerful ones too. Far more than you could take on on your own. It would be best to act quickly.....
Primal - Ancient tribal spirit - (Primal Warrior Lost) Just a few keywords for summary/mechanics purposes
One of the lost gods of a South American tribe long gone into extinction, he remains. He was put to rest and only awoken because of the mad commotion of the world of late. He has a mans body with a thorn through his tongue and many tattoos. He has been known, however to take the form of a reptile with feathers, sometimes still remaining humanoid, sometimes closer to a serpent. He is thin and clad in wooden and copper armor. He represents the warrior spirit of men, a son of the spirit of war. He was sealed in a mountain after consuming the blood of the spanish and slowly being put to slumber by the death of his people.
Power:5 Note:Power is an absract value representing your essence. It fills the role of both health and mana.