Ages Eternal [IC] (Ages Eternal) Idain

"I can raise the dead at will. Lingering spirits are still bound to their bodies, and so I force them back inside their flesh." The Worm said. "I could teach you what I know, but it comes at a price."
 
"No matter how great you can grow your understanding of my art, you are bound to a living body, and so cannot truly imitate me. I myself am little more than a corpse brought back from death. My true form lies crippled in the ocean. You speak only to a fragment of me, reflected in the moon. I fall silent by day."
 
"What price would you ask?" Said Aether intrested, "I admit this art of yours is Vile, though I am fascinated by what you have accomplished."
 
"I don't want anything in payment. What I meant is you'd be...changed if you indulged in my arts. Once again, I'm no god. I belong to a different kind, and so operate by different rules." She looked over to Paloria. "Call me whatever you like, but I remain fundamentally different to you. I can do things most gods would consider...unclean. That's why I'm confident you would want me by your side. I plan to overtake the world one day, for my People of Lead. If we were to ally, I could first help you destroy your enemies before I take over their abandoned lands." She paused. "You can create land with a thought. I am bound to the earth. I have little control over it. So I hope you would understand me."
 
Paloria smiled at the undead girl. "You are correct, I can create land." Paloria walked out to the edge of the spire, her hands clasped behind her back. "And I am not bound to the earth, as you are. As such, I do understand your motives." Turning back around, the smile faded from Paloria's face. The light in her eyes exploded into a raging flame. "If your abilities can help us to kill, no, destroy, Mutare, then you are welcome here."

Spreading her arm out over her realm, she continued, "Do you see this land? Please, consider it a part of your people's home."
 
South of the great mount, in what was once cogan's fingers, the earth quaked ferociously as H'mog stomped and screamed.

The Great Maiden escaped H'mog's sight. She knows him too well. She knows all his blindspots, however one might take that. Ra'oc and the Maiden found there way to an upward slope, as charred trees lean over and collapse around him, and the two orcs speed greatly hindered by the constant quakes. At the top of this hill, A valley laid before them. It was choked to death by the vicious gases of the eruptions, but otherwise untouched from lava. This valley was full of white trees, with only a scattering of tiny brown leaves in this summer. The trees resembled teeth, somewhat.

Ra'oc guided the Maiden to an old hut, half buried in a cave, where an elder prophet lives in seclusion. The twosome enter the home of Gambolg, and was greeted with the coughing and wheezing of one who is dying.

"Ra'oc..." whimpered the old orc "H'mog is displeased... I hear his anger. Why have you returned? I am... I am to die this way..." Tears in his eyes, Ra'oc would respond "I lead her to you, sir. The Great Maiden of the First Fist requested it!" They approached Gambolg, and the Maiden spoke "Gambolg: You were once a prophet of H'mog; and you can still be. Take up the mind's eye; Tell me how to sooth H'mog from his outburst!"

Gambolg was silent. A particularly strong quake hit, and dust from the mud ceiling fell on their heads and fractures ran up the walls of the cottage. A creaking and moaning noise was heard, and the wooden center beam splintered, which held up the cliff face at this point. The Great Maiden turned back to Gambolg desperately. It was clear she knew not how to continue; could she even continue?

Gambolg spoke with the voice of a powerful individual, and not his own. "A darkness is over H'mogs mind. Take up the arrows of the wilderness, Shel. Seek out Mutare to craft a toxin, for he will understand the mind enough to help." How this mortal knew her old name was beyond the Great Maiden, who was left in awe. Gambolg died their as he finished speaking. Shel and Ra'oc left the collapsing building, and the hut was buried.
 
The Worm in Waiting eyes glimmered. "Thank you, good maiden of dragons. When you strike against Mutuare, you'll whatever forces I can muster by your side."

And with that, the avatar crumbled and rotted away.
 
Turning to Paloria, Aether said "I am troubled by this alliance Paloria, I don not have many fears, although this non-god having the power to raise the dead frightens me." pausing He continued " I trust your judgment on this matter sister, If you think this Worm in Waiting can be trusted, then so be it."
 
Paloria walked up to her older brother, patting him on the head as well. "Aether, I do not know if she can be trusted. However, she has a goal, and her goal aligns with ours. Anyways, I have chosen a champion. Her name is Frailtear. Where is your's, dear brother?"
 
Aether's muscles loosened for a moment as Paloria stroked his head. Collecting himself, He said "Taliesin should be around here directing the Dru'Dar to their new homes. The boy shows promise, he has immense magical potential but mastery takes time. That's beside the point though, Shall i call him for you dear sister?"
 
"There is no need. He will find her soon enough." Paloria once again walked over to the edge of the spire, dragging Aether along. Pointed out a lone figure, her hair fiery, Paloria spoke, "There is my champion. A scarred one, she who survived the plague. Frailtear will find him, as he will find her. See now, as the she greets the People of Led."
 
"She will make a fine champion in time dear sister." said aether softly, "that she bares the mark of the damned plauge is sickening. Matare will pay for what he has wrought, though he is a dangerous enemy. How shall we proceed?"
 
It had been months now since Shel and Ra'oc escaped H'mogs wrath. The sand under their feet was miserably burning hot. Around them, the heat of the red desert shimmered in the air. The evening sky was burgundy, and the heat beat down on them. It was better then when the sun was high, but it was still horrible. But they trekked on, for their destination was now in sight; The Garden of Change... a literal forest of death. Ra'oc had heard much about this place, a hellish woodland where the god of change watched you die to his ever-evolving beasts, powerful unlike anything one has ever seen. Ra'oc couldn't believe that he was coming here for help.

Shel did not like Ra'oc. He was weak, a pushover. She wondered what could possibly have happened to the Orcish race to create this guy. this sounds harsh, and perhaps it was wondering through the desert with him for a month building discontent, but It was like H'mog and the Orcish race was falling apart; Ra'oc was not the only one she has seen in recent years.

At that, they arrived. Unearthly calls and roaring filled the air, along with a strange musk and presence. The garden of change waited before them, and there was only one way to get Mutares attention. The Great Maiden entered.
 
Paloria looked out across the world around her. Far away, across the sea, she felt some of her children. Then, the unfortunate ones that went with them were returning to her, flying over sea and land. She saw as H'mog, her lost brother, ran, his mind ruined. Looking to the sky, she saw Dymos, she knew that it was Dymos, asleep and cold.

"Aether, tell me. What has happened to our beloved brother, Hakku? I cannot see him, nor can I feel his presence around us." Paloria stood, looking out over the lands, a quizzical look on her face.

As she posed this question she began to think about her future actions, which was very rare for her to do. "The reason that I ask, is because his assistance would be much welcomed in this impending war."

"First, we will amass our forces here. Then, we shall have this realm fortified. Without the help of Dragons, to which Humans, those of Led, and the Dru'dar is given, entrance to my realm his hard won. As such, the mountains will be fortified. We shall enlist the help of Dwarves and, if at all possible, that of the Fae."

Turning back around to her elder brother, Paloria continued to relay her plans, "Secondly, we will create our army proper. Our champions shall lead it as we lead them. Then, when we are ready, we will attack."

"Remember, Aether. When I fell asleep all those years ago. I completed the mission I sought to complete. Eventually, once all other gods have either aligned with me or be destroyed, I will turn to the All-Father. We will open the door, we will see his face, for once in our long lives."
 
The Worm laid crippled upon the ocean floor, black waters swirling and tiny glimmers of light falling from above. Through the ocean, and as evening fell to night, the Worm in Waiting could feel the moon. Her tendrils slid from inside and groped at the water holding the great beast at bay. How she longed to reach up and touch that shimmering orb, and how easily it would be rise to grasp it. But, bound in fate's cruel shackles, her neck was broken, and great pressure held her to the seabed.

The Worm in Waiting stood resolute. She knew that the ocean could not hold her forever. One day, she would rise, and her great shadow would eclipse the very sun itself.
 
"He is dead paloria," Said Aether as he put a hand on her shoulder, "No aid will come from his corpse, We must trust in our strength and that of the worm in waiting. These are dark time dear sister, But i hold hope for the future and I pray that the Gods will align easily."
 
Paloria's eyes widened as she heard of Hakku's passing. "He may have been the God of Fear, but he was a good god..." Looking up, Paloria saw as her long betrayed children returned to her.

They flew, a tornado around the spires. They saw her, felt her presence, rejoiced at her awakening. Placing her hand over Aether's, the goddess spoke, "Do you see this, dear brother? My children, harmed as they were, have not forgotten me." A sad kind of love showed itself on her face. She loved them for they were here sons and daughters, and yet she mourned over them for the futures that were taken from them.
 
Mutare did not spent his time waiting for Paloria to attack simply sitting around. He kept himself busy, taking stock of his Sparks, fixing any openings within the Garden, and readying his supply to move should the need arises. He was busy with these task, but something interrupted him. An outsider has intruded in his Garden. He does not know what has entered but it if was Paloria then that means the war has begun, but if it was not, then he could at least check to see what has come to his doorstep. He tunneled through the ground to the edges of his territory and appeared where the intruders had entered. With a hundred fauna and flora capable of killing watching and waiting at any time, the intruders must be either brave or desperate to enter. He wishes to see which it was. Upon arriving he spots a pair of orcs in his Garden. Crude beings, large and strong but inefficient. He wonders why they have come to his forest. They must have been sent by another god and he must know why. Without warning he orders his Garden to split and retreat from the two. The animals ran, and the trees moved to form a small clearing in order to reveal himself to the two, in his thick leather cloak covering him from head to toe and a horned raven mask covering his changing face and eyes.

"You. Not part of this conflict. Why have you come? What purpose do you serve?" He asks them.
 
"I am The Great Maiden of H'mog the god of Domination." said Shel loudly. "We are here because H'mog is... In need of help that is beyond us. He acts irrationally, and wishes destruction on his own people, and they are an extension of himself! This is not him. H'mog is not Himself. Please, we... We do not know what to do." Shel teared up a little, something she had not done for a long time.
 
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