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[nuker w]

Stepping out from a portal in the air, The Wanderer landed in the dark desert sands of the corruption. Clicking his fingers, a lone spirit raced towards him.

"What are the current numbers of The Beings currently held here?" he whispered.

The spirit stayed silent, thinking over the question.

"Roughly five hundred, Wanderer."

The Wanderer sighed and ran his hand over his hood.

"It is a start. Order two hundred of them towards the small village on the outskirts of the corruption. I need folowers."

Nodding, the spirit rose and clapped its hands once. As one, the selected beings turned and made their way towards the small village to the north.

[HailFire]

"I apologize for my outburst, Kastheen;" Phera said with a sigh, "I did not intend to establish myself as a superior, as I wish to cooperate, but instead to emphasize the gravity of the situation. You heard Nativa, and surely you can see the parallels between that world and ours: we are on a path to destruction, and I refuse to believe my- and, indeed, our existence is futile.

She tilted her head as the Lord of Paradise spoke up. "You have seen one of these other worlds, and survived it's undoing? I suppose it is true then... how many worlds and how many of our kindred must be destroyed before we break this cycle? Your point is well said, which is why I sought out the Bringer of Law- and if peace reigns, then surely War and his conspirators will create creatures immune to reason, that kill for no purpose but to kill, and to continue his quest for conflict- but that is why I sent for the God of Battle."

[Evergod41]

Obseving for this mindless bickering, yet meaningful discussion, Khan had finally decided to speak and make a point.

"You sent for me because you wish to conserve peace and prosperity? but that is neigh impossible, wherever more than a single controlling power reings, there shall be battles between them, yet, even when there is but one controlling power, there are those who wish to be in control, and there are battles within.

You may try to unite us together to make a force of 'good', which may solve these... 'problems' you find, but may also simply make the struggles more feirce, as our enemies, the forces of 'evil', also unite to try and make their version of paradise. And who truly knows what might happen? Will we eventually destroy what we have created, and what has created us, or will we simply end up in a never ending battle between 'good' and 'evil'?"

Khan shifts position in his seating, finding it uncomfortable for long periods of sitting.

"And in response to your wishing to not use the mortals as pawns, then why even have them? What is the purpose of fodder if you dont use it as such? Would you send in your most valuable soldiers before you send in the scouts? Would you charge blindly into overwhelming forces? You must use those who were created to be used, dont dwell on their deaths, but still strive to prevent it."

Through ranting, and propositional questions, Khan rests once more, to observe and learn about what others think.

[Digital Hellhound]

'I am now responsible for the actions of mortals?' Amparos laughed. 'What would you like me to do, then? Speak to them to bring pacifism to a people of warriors? They do not live free in the skies like my sister's Mayura, Aarrook. Their world is dangerous and cold, like the waves of the ocean. That would leave them helpless against the rest of the world.'

He would have to keep a closer eye on them in the future, though. Aarrook was obviously exaggerating - they had been simply raiding their neighbours when he last had checked - but perhaps he could make them avoid killing the creations of the others. His kin seemed to care about them surprisingly much.

'Altering beliefs, culture, mindset... now you would be stripping away their free will. While I do not much care if they suffered that fate, that is surprising, coming from a god of paradise. I suppose even forced paradise is still paradise.'

[Humaan]

"What you can do," Aarrook paused. He knew that this was going to be a long discussion. "What you can do is simply tell them to stop this madness. As their patron god, you have the ability to do this the most. Please understand of the lack of races going into war led me to use your race." Aarrook had stood up. "Futhermore, indeed, you are responsible. For you are the ones who gave them the claws, the shells, their warmongering in the firstplace. The only time you would not be responsible is if someone else had caused the war which has happened. I doubt that you have proof that an entity exists.

"And do I dare point out that mindsets can alter without us purposly altering them? If we met a mortal, and told them the values of the action, surely they would listen, due to our status? A paradise is never forced, but sometimes order is needed to protect the paradise."

He turned over and stared at Khan. "You deny that it is possible. Yet it is possible, and I have seen that. Knowledge can make mortals able to do more to keep themselves in prosperity. There will be conflict, between minds, not arms, if properly done. Will is thing which exists as a force of its own. An army of reason so to speak."

"I do not deny that we must found a force to protect the world. I understand those who are evil will unify to stop us. Yet if we don't create a unified front againest evil, what stops them from teaming up without it? While they may resort to war, we must take hits as well. I never did say that we will not show strength."

"Dare I ask why you think that mortals are fodder, pawns compared to us, why should they exist? Ther are reasons which can be more honorable, such as so they exist. If you want a less noble reason, a mortal's worship is powerful as well, so I presume that is why many mortals exist. Yet, Khan, should know the worse part of any army is an defection. If we allow mortals to stray from enlightenment, some will. Those few can then cause chaos of their own."

[ed boy]

"Phera, you are mistaken. I am no 'Bringer of Law', nor do I claim to be as such. It was from law that I sprung, not the other way round. I am the god of my people, no more no less. And it is in that capacity that I ask you: What is it that you ask of me? If the situation is as bad as you claim it is, then I cannot risk my people's future and so my place is with them, not with you. If the situation is not as bad as you claim, then you have no need for me.

Furthermore, A lot of you seem to demand obedience and servitude from mortals, yet I doubt you have spent any significant time in their service. I cannot see how you can ask the servitude, not only of them but also of each other, if you do not know what it is to serve yourself."

[Digital Hellhound]

Yalane sighed, idly making the water around her dance around in spirals. These sparkling, cold waters weren't hers, running through a vast, sparsely-wooded expanse of green. She drew lazily on the surface, sharp, crystalline figures dancing around her fingertip. She smiled, letting the figures transform. The vaguely humanoid things soon became humans, Northren, savage Wargaz, Chosen, every creature Yalane knew. Soon, the waters were frantic with activity, a strange celebration of tiny, transparent figures.

No mortal was seeing this, sadly. She liked entertaining humans - shame most were only frightened by her. The tribes along her river were now slaves or servants of the Chosen, sadly, and the gifted ones treated her like some figure of myth. While the malenar might have liked that, she felt it strange and frustrating.

'Enjoying yourself?'Tamad whispered softly into her ear. She spun around quickly, letting the celebration sink back into the waters. It ended just as quickly it had began. Yalane fell a bit into the river, embarassed to have been caught doing something so childish.

'I was bored, brother.' she said. Tamad smiled, bringing a figure identical to one of hers into existance from the waters. Yalane forced it back down. She had always been the more skilled one.

'I saw.' he replied. Then, suddenly turning serious, he continued. 'Listen. I have found these fleeing villagers the Chosen want. They're just further up the river, near a village called Drywall.'

Yalane nodded, all embarassement now brushed aside. Inside, she cursed. The villagers had already been forced to leave their homes. What need did the Chosen have to pursue them further? They had lost, yes, but because of divine interference. It was not even a very sizeable village, and would not have given them that many slaves. She supposed it was a matter of honour to them.

'Show me.' she said.

They both disappeared into the waters, and were soon racing towards Drywall as fast as they could. The journey did not take long - not for them, the spirits of the rivers. Drywall soon spread all above them, the river cutting through the eastern edge of the town. Tamad led her through it, stopping soon outside.

The refugees looked tired, hungry and lost, as she had expected. They had covered much ground in such a short time - but fear, she assumed, had sped up their steps. They were desperately trying to get to the safety of Dordrath. The Chosen would not dare to attack the place - or if they did, they would all die at the base of it's stone walls. But they were still far away, and the Chosen could travel to any point of the river in a blink.

Before Tamad could stop her, Yalane arose from the waters, forming back into her humanoid form. She stepped up from the river and onto land - the grass and the air felt so very strange to her body- and into full view of the refugees.

'I wish to speak with whoever leads you. We may not have much time, so please, be quick with it.'

[Karnewarrior]

Eowel stepped forward.

"Two of us lead, but one of us is asleep. I will speak in my compatriots place. What is it you want? For that matter, what sort of being are you?"

[Digital Hellhound]

Yalane studied the boy for a moment - strange for someone so young to lead. The old leaders must have been killed in the attack, then. There was something strange about the boy, though, and the blade he carried. A faint divine presence - but was that really so surprising? She had felt the godly intervention at the village.

'Very good. I am Yalane of the lanenti, servant of Amparos, and a spirit of the rivers. I would ask your name, but I fear that must wait for now.' she said, stepping closer. There was a dangerous look to the boy's face, his youthful eyes surprisingly hard. He had killed, no doubt in defense of his home. 'The Chosen... the beings who destroyed your village are still after you. In fact, they asked me and my kin to find you. They serve our creator as well, unfortunately, so we did as they said... to an extent.'

'I have come to deliver a warning. You must get to safety - to Dordrath, if you can. I will wait... a week, at most, before bringing them back here. I suggest you get moving as soon as you can. They have gathered an army of a thousand men, all bent on the death of your people.'

With that, she stepped back, waiting for the boy's reaction. With luck, the boy would listen to her warning, though even then she would still have to convince Tamad to stay silent.

[Evergod41]

"I did not say that battles are only fought with strength and wit, but simply that no matter what we do, there WILL be conflict of some kind, so the goal of eliminating it all is futile."

Then addressing the whole of the pantheon here.

"I do know that, if we dont stop squaddling over our independant attributes, and simply join forces, we would have waited too long, and the battle would have already been lost." Then simply addressing Amparos "Amparos, you may play the one who does not care for now, but sooner or later, you will wish to be on a side, and hopefully that side will be ours. I cannot say what your intentions were for creating creatures, then leaving them alone to wreak havoc, but hopefully you will take responsibility for your actions, and either help to stop them, or be the one to re-inforce their choices, apathy umong dieties of your stature is one of the real reasons, I beleive, the worlds in those stories fell. Because the few people who had power to stop the wars, did not try to do so untill it was too late."

[Karnewarrior]

Give me to her.
What?! No!
I need to speak to Amparos! We have a better chance at success if we can get him to call his dogs off.
But what of Dordrath?
You and Estriss can handle that. Shaq is powerful enough, and as of right now he has invested in our... refugees. He will help, if only to protect his own holdings.
You're placing our lives in the hands of the GOD OF MURDER?
And Heroes. We share spheres now. Two sides of the same coin. I will do far better speaking to Amparos!
"And then what?!" Shouted Eowel aloud.
"And then I save your lives!"
"You can save us by staying!"
"I cannot! If I could, I would have saved the village in the first place!"
"You want the water?! HERE!" In a fit of rage, Eowel hurled the Godblade over Yalanes head. It flashed in the sunlight before vanishing in the water with a soft blip.

"Thank you water spirit. We will head to Dordrath immediately." Eowel bowed sharply and left.

Eowel fights with Carmanthyre.
Eowel tossess Carmathyre into the river beside Yalane
Eowel leaves in a huff.

[Digital Hellhound]

Yalane sighed. An insane leader was the last thing these people needed. She hoped this other leader he had spoken of was saner, and also smarter. The boy was too trusting, and seemed somewhat simple. He had accepted her words as true immediately. Atleast he was going to do what she said.

She drifted back into the river, going with it's flow back towards Drywall. Tamad soon joined her, the strange, god-touched blade dragged along by a current created by him. She knew he would want answers now. She halted and turned to face him.

'You could've told me you had a plan for them, Yalane.' he said. Thankfully, he didn't sound very angry. 'However shaky it was.'

'I did not have a plan, brother. But I could not let them go without a warning.' she answered wearily. The Chosen would turn back once they saw their prey had escaped to the safety of Dordrath's walls. They had to. Amparos would not be pleased if their army had died because of her.

'I will not say anything to the Chosen, do not worry. But what do you intend to do with this?' Tamad asked, raising the sword from the waters. 'I suggest you get rid of it, sister. The boy you spoke with had obviously been driven mad because of it, and it has the touch of a god upon it. I would not wish any harm upon you.'

'Perhaps... but I wish to know what it is. The boy was a human. We are ancients. But do not worry, I do not intend to keep it for long.' she replied, pulling the strange weapon closer. Anything touched by the divine was never safe, especially as this seemed to cause madness.

She sighed, closing her hand around the blade.

[Karnewarrior]

Good evening.

[Iituem]

Estriss slept fitfully.  Discussions the night before had proved tumultuous, to say the least.  Neither Bunduk nor his people seemed willing to believe that the threat that had decimated so many villages was already on their doorstep - after all, none of them had seen the devastation first hand.  This was not to say that they were not kind people; they were readily willing to accept the refugees for a time, despite the hardship it would bring them.  They simply refused to believe Estriss' words.  She could certainly understand why - if she was wrong or lying, it would mean abandoning their homes, their possessions, everything they had worked for for naught.  Even if she was right, they still believed they could beat the Chosen.  The meeting had to be called to an end before things became too heated.

Estriss dreamed of fish-men and crab-men and eel-men tearing down these quiet homesteads, shattering the forge and whipping the broken people back to their mysterious lands.  She dreamed of a place by the sea, tents at first and then growing to mud and wooden buildings, built by the back-breaking labour of slaves.  An endless bounty of food, flowing forth from the sea, with beings of water and will streaking through sea and river alike.  A name floated into her mind; Seyth.

Into the sea city now, her vision streaking across endless, nameless faces of men and Chosen alike.  Now and again her vision might pause, focusing on a single being.  Gernad.  A younger Chosen, wrath in his eyes.  Ghuran.  Older, more cunning, conflicted and distrustful.  His son.  Much younger, barely more than a boy, but a tempest in his soul.  The War Council.  A handful of different Chosen, most elderly, yet powerful for their hideous mutations.  The Chieftains.  Younger, stronger Chosen, squabbling for influence amongst the tribes.

Estriss became aware of a shaking sensation, of somebody rocking her shoulder back and forth.  She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and tried to shake the nightmare visions away.  Eowen shook her harder, and she batted his hand away.

"We're moving," he said.

"What?"  Estriss smacked her tongue a couple of times, trying to get the dryness out of it.  "But we haven't even convinced them to come with us."

"Well, you've got until everyone is packed and ready to go.  The Chosen know where we are."

"What?"  Estriss sat bolt upright.  "How?  I thought we'd evaded their scouts."

"They have the aid of - I don't know what you'd call them, spirits of the river?  One of them spotted us and plans to tell them within the week.  So we're moving, Drywall or no."

Estriss opened her mouth to question the delay, or how he knew this was true, but noticed a distinct lack on Eowen's part.

"Where's your blade?" she asked.  "I haven't seen you a moment apart from that thing since we left home."  Eowen's face darkened and he turned away.

"Gone."

"Gone where?"

"I said gone!"  Eowen stormed away.  Estriss blanched for a moment, then stood up, nostrils flared.

"Hey!  Don't you talk to me like that, you-"  Eowen spun around on the spot, teeth bared.

"Or what?!"  Estriss clenched her fists, then released them.

"This- this is not the time."

"Then fucking get packing.  We're leaving."  Eowen turned again and left.

Bunduk, who in his later years was starting to accumulate more than a little flesh around his midriff, sidled over when Eowen had left. He patted Estriss on the back congenially, then flinched as she glared daggers at him.  Seeming to remember herself, Estriss' face softened and she managed a weak smile.  Bunduk laughed.

"Someone has a bee up their skirt today," he said.  "What's wrong with your friend?"  Estriss ran a hand through her hair.  Tangled, still.  She hadn't even had time to find a pool of water to wash it in since the attack.

"Damned if I know.  Probably just fussed that we're leaving.  I'd best pack myself."

"So soon?  I was enjoying your company, young lady."  Bunduk gave Estriss a good-natured leer.

"The Chosen are coming here.  We have to leave now."

"So you've said, but I'm sure we can ready our preparations within a couple of weeks to fight them off."

"No, you misunderstand.  The Chosen are coming directly here.  They know you're here now."  Bunduk narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean they know we're here now?  How could they - you!"  Bunduk pointed at Estriss.  "You brought them here!"

"They would have come regardless, and you could not have defended against them.  We had no way of knowing they would follow us."

"Boar shit!  You led them right here!  I ought to-"  Bunduk raised his hand and Estriss smacked it aside, staring him down.

"To what?  To hit me?  To kill me?  How exactly would that help you now?  They're coming here, no matter what you do.  One way or another, the only way you can save your people now is to take them to Dordrath with us.  If we march from before dawn past dusk, if we barely stop for rest and sleep, we might reach Dordrath in just over a week.  I assure you, we do not have even that long.  So come with us, and help us prepare to fight at Dordrath where we have to, or stay here and die.  We have to leave."

Estriss, with somewhat less flair than Eowen, left to prepare for departure.  Bunduk stood fuming for a moment, threw a handful of choice oaths and insults her way, then went to tell his own people the bad news.


Estriss and Eowen's group increase their pace to a forced march to reach Dordrath.

------------


Miles away, to the far north, a wolfskin-cloaked northren continued her track south along the rivers.  South, to Dordrath.

[Digital Hellhound]

'It talks.' Yalane said, nearly dropping the blade in surprise. She had not been expecting that, though perhaps she should've been.

'Well?' Tamad asked, coming closer. Right. Yalane focused her thoughts into the thing, unsure of what to do.

Greetings, blade. What... exactly are you, if I may ask?