Ages Eternal [IC] (Ages/Legends Eternal) War of the Gods

Lazzamore

Lazzamore

WAAAAAAAAAA-
The Lines have been drawn in blood and misery. In the Great Mount, bronze is sharpened, magic honed, and bows bent. The beasts and beast-masters of the Garden of change ready there souls for an onslaught of fire and vengeance. This time is the War of the Gods, and it will be known, unmistakably, as a very dark time in history.

In the Dragons City armies mobilize. Humans, Dru'dar, Dragons and People of Lead prepare themselves to serve their trio of gods and their mighty, divinely-elected Champions.

In the garden of change, all things living prepare noxious poisons, sharpen claws, and harden fangs. Every creature, small and large, plant and fungus, fish and bird, mammal and reptile alike are completely, one hundred percent devoted to Mutare the lord of Change. They desire in burning fashion to prove themselves worthy.

In Obus, a feeling of great angst has come over the creatures. Goddesses and gods all over are called attention to the growing hate and violence in the north.

Today will be a terrifying day. In a distant, dark land, Voltrieg the Arch-devil of war and blood-shed, licks his lips in eager thirst... Let it begin.
 
Refcaskha shifted, his head slowly turning its way towards the north. He could feel it. The anger. The hatred. The fear. Something was happening, and it was big. Gliding his way down the mountain side of his perch, he directed himself towards the northern oceans. His tattered form passed over Tuaru, gaining his Avatar's concern. Mentally warding him off, Refcaskha made his way north. He would check as to what this feeling was and, if it proved dangerous, retreat to Obus to gather his forces.

It would take a short time to travel there, now that no sentient creatures existed around him he was able to move in his true form, speeding his way along the deep blue of the ocean. Idly he wondered what Eellae may be up to. After a while, these thoughts were dashed as he sighted land, his form shifting to that of his Justice side. Striding along, Refcaskha entered Idain for the first time.

It was... different, compared to Obus. The trees were not as large, nor was the climate as warm. However this continent was certainly housing whatever was giving off such a terrible vibe. There was an abundance of new creatures as well, although he had yet to find any sort of intelligence or civilisation. Looking around him, he could see mountains (Although not as tall as his perch) to the west, a desert to the north and to his east simply more sea.

Turning west, Refcaskha make sure his way towards the southern mountains of Idain.
 
"This Dreamscape certainly is a stra..." Red said, stopped halfway by Somna. "Something's wrong." Somna said glancing around furtively, "Something's very wrong. Why are the Sleeper's dreams turning towards war? What's happening on the other side?"
 
Aether's head whipped around as he felt a immensely strong being not of this land approach the mountain. "Paloria Ready yourself something comes, friend or foe I know not. But it has the strength of a God as is not of our kin." Saying this Aether switched into his true godly form. It was a Dull grean-black plate mail, adorned with carvings of skulls and glyphs, robes flowed from his armor. His hood darkened his face leaving only his one glowing eye visible from behind the jagged face plate. A large Twisted staff Appeared in his hand and a tome of unintelligible symbols in the other. Vanarusk growled and appeared to almost double in size. "Let us great this new friend, dear sister." Said Aether softly.

@Drakey
 
A wispy form rose from the shadows, shaping into a being with skin like antlers and a body built much like one of Slua. She stepped into the view of Aether, gesturing to her heart in some form of salute. "God of Magic, I've come to assist you in your war." Her voice was unfitting of the body, one of a young woman. "My People of Lead will go with your armies. I will do what I can with this avatar, but my real contribution can't be performed until nightfall."

The Worm in Waiting raised an arm, and tiny hairs sprung forth from her fingers, growing and weaving until her hands were immense, bony claws. Plates grew thick and heavy from her body, covering the soft flesh beneath until the entire creature was encased in thick armor somewhat mimicking the bronze plate of the People of Lead. She seemed to drip the night sky from the seams. To top it off, a long, rather eerie sword grew from her left hand. Aether sensed a strong arcane aura surrounding the Worm.

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The Orcish race marched. In the the southern plains, camps and legions upon legions spread out for miles, all of them answering a sacred call; H'mog has returned to Reason, and his first true command in over a millennia would be to go to war.

Paloria believes that she has the right to slay all things made at the hands of Mutare for his transgressions. And while the Lord of Change must be punished, Paloria would go above and beyond what is just. She must be shown the world is not hers alone. At least, this is what H'mog tells himself, and the thus the Orcs.

Shel felt a great relief. She is not sure how she talked H'mog into this, or if he truly even believed her arguments, but this was happening. The Great Maiden still couldn't look H'mog in the eye, but at least she was not in mortal panic. "Great Maiden... Come, I have gift." said H'mog, with speech still slurred and broken. Some things never changed, Shel supposed. She followed him to an empty clearing near the southern mountains, where H'mog drew a line in the dust with his toe. In the rut he made, opaque, off-white crystals grew into the shape of a baton or short-wide stick. H'mog lifted the Baton up and whacked the ground with the surprisingly sturdy rod, starting a small earthquake! "This is called 'Earth-Rod'. You will wield it to battle, Shel." H'mog hand the rod to Shel, and noticed a lingering guilt in Shel. He was not sure how to remedy this.

At that, a powerful presence was felt just to the south. "Return to Orcs. I be right back." and H'mog levitated a boulder as a Flying platform, which carried him to the source of the presence. Refcaskha the Ever-burning was there; and asked what was happening. The implications of this discovery was staggering; But it had to wait.

"This is War of the Gods, young one." and H'mog explained the situation; focusing on the bystanders killed by Paloria's awakening, and the races she intends to extinguish, on H'mogs view of the war. "I gonna aid Mutare, but make not mistake, he still pay. But Paloria makes everyone pay. When not fueled by indignation; No, methinks she fueled by hate. And when Paloria hates, empires fall."
 
Refcaskha listened to the... Orc god's tales. The god's explanation was brief, but to the point and explained exactly what was going on and why, something Refcaskha could appreciate. This land was old. Far older than his and his people's home, older than him even. But this age had come at a price. Obus was a peaceful land, its youth affording the races living there harmony as hatred hadn't yet to fester and grow.

But here was different. Millenia had come and gone and with it, wrongs had been committed by both sides. The God of Justice and Vengeance found himself warring internally. He knew he must support one side, his nature demanded it. But which? Mutare had been the aggressor, unleashing his plague and beasts for the sake of his own selfish goals. Yet Paloria... he could feel the anger. The hatred directed towards her. So many souls cyring for revenge, for justice, at her actions, simmering just beneath the surface. The people she had harmed, the races brought to their knees just by her mere presence... she could not be allowed to continue upon such a destructive path.

The world was not hers to play with. It was their duty to protect and nurture. Those who sided with her needed to understand that, through whatever means necessary.

His titanic, blazing and silvery form turned towards H'Mog, giving the Orc god th impression of looking at him despite not having a clear head. He was weaker here than in Obus, away from most of his followers, yet still powerful. He would aid in the war. "I will support your cause, Orc God. Mutare will pay in due time, but you are correct in thinking that Paloria's actions must be punished. There is much rage in this land."

"Justice and Vengeance is on your side. What would you have them do?"
 
H'mog was visibly pleased. This was the break he needed! With Refcaskha here, young or not, there was hope. Hope to instill order (the irony of said situation was not lost on H'mog, either) once again to the world, but mostly hope that the war would not end in total annihilation of H'mog and his people.

"You come with me." announced H'mog in his usual, authoritative tone. "We will announce aid to Mutare together. But what I is have to say... Well, we is need leverage." he said frankly.

The desert was harsh on the Orcs supplies, and their forces streamed forward making ranks and lines in front of the Garden of Change. "MUTARE, LORD OF CHANGE! HEAR ME!!" Called H'mog in a roar. "We have arrived to offer our aid. All Orcs and All Golems and Obusett's son of Justice wish to defend your people from Paloria's wrath. Make no mistake: you WILL see justice for death of hatchlings. But NOT at Paloria's heavy hand, and your children Quash NOT get wiped out. So... Please, Let us help, for time being."

@ChelonianCommander
 
Mutare knew the war grows closer. He had little time to finalize his Garden's defense and defenders. The Quash believed that their gods' servant Mutare have delivered them their holy task of defending the Garden from this grand battle, thus their warriors will stand vigilant within the Garden in their tens of thousands waiting to ambush their enemies with weapons of bone, wood, teeth and fangs laced with venom so potent that can fall even the largest of the Garden's beasts. The Garden's trees have grown large strong and thick to turn into natural barriers and for the first time the Garden's fauna and flora have stopped killing each other and now sit in waiting for outside prey to come.

As he waited, Mutare hears the roar of H'Mog, offering his aid. His creature seems to have cured H'Mog of his supposed madness, at least temporarily and now his creatures have come to help Mutare. While he isn't opposed to this help, he would much rather see what his creations could do themselves. Still if the Orc god wishes to assist him, H'Mog could give him a few more moments to finish his preparations. He travels to the outskirts of his territory to meet with the god to discuss how they can help him test his Garden of Change.

"Wish to assist? Explain strengths. Explain weaknesses. Will use accordingly." He tells him.
 
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H'mog thought for a moment. "My people are extension of me. We all get me blood; We all mean domination, authority. The Orcs are powerful warriors. Our resolve not know limits." H'mog almost boasted, but gave the impression that this was an honest representation of his people according to his understanding. But H'mog seemed to get the impression this did not answer the question "...We not weak either, in brawn or gut. We... Learn to eat most anything. Grow to survive in lots of places. We... not have great wealth or resources. We live in wilds, not towers."
 
Refcaskha tilted his head at the less than articulate Orc god. Odd that it seemed almost deferential to Mutare. There was something there that he would have to discover at a later date. As the two gods talked, he admired the surrounding mountains and thousands of orcs. They were interesting creature, savage and brutal. In their presence he remained a consistent Vengeance form, not even a flicker of his more orderly side.

Noting that H'Mog had ceased talking and was looking at him in some expectation, Refcaskha's ragged form fluttered forward. "My forces are not yet here, but they are powerful. A majority of them are humans devoted to me, lead by my first avatar. They are accompanied by a cluster of dragons, the head of which is a particularly massive specimen. The human forces are joined by Golems, beings of my own creation being lead by my second avatar. They are of Gold, Silver and Magma. Few in number compared to other races, but more physically capable and the Magma can bending flame and stone to an adept degree to create fortresses in record time. They have tamed the Giants of Obus, and will be using them as titanic battering rams and to carry siege artillery."

Looking around, he gazes at the mountains. "However, as mentioned they are few in number compared to what we will be fighting and must first cross the distance between Obus and this land. The Dragons are devoted to me, but it is hard to remove Millenia of instinct. They will not attack the direct servants of Paloria." He finishes, quickly getting lost in thought. He wondered if the orcs were any good at architecture? Did Mutare make a super Orc at any point?

All of a sudden, the lush landscape around him disappeared, remaining only at the edges of his vision, tendrils of brightness against sudden gloom. Looking around, the God found himself in a landscape of near darkness, the land around him near impossible colours and ever shifting.
 
"Hmm....very well. Wealth insignificant. Strength is all that matters. You shall stall. Keep enemies out. Quash shall help. Need time to finish defenses. You provide time." He quickly explains to H'Mog. He didn't want the Orcs to go into his garden and interfere with his work. This way he will have the time he will need to finish the defenses and prepare the beasts of the Garden and he'll be able to judge how powerful these invaders shall be. Still he shouldn't let H'mog's forces be bogged down and razed in the opening attacks. He should help his 'allies' in the only way he knows how as to stay within good favor with the god. "Must ask. Offering help to forces. Can upgrade. Can make better. Can make stronger. Take offer?" He asks H'Mog.

@Lazzamore
 
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"Aether, Wors, follow me." Said the goddess. Stepping from the spire she fell through the air. Wings of fire sprouted from her back as she descended, changing her into a great dragon. Landing in the center of the spires, she called to the races around her.

"Dragons! Heed my Call! Dru'Dar, Humans, those of Led, come to me!" Her voice rang out across the lands, beckoning races to her domain. "War begins! There are enemies, those who kill for the sake of it! Sicknesses, devastating and incurable have ran rampant through our peoples. The god responsible is Mutare. He of change and evolution has threatened us, woken me from my slumber. Now, for his transgressions, he will pay. Any who follow him, and support him, will burn from our flames!"

Fire sprouted form the goddess's feet as her hatred for her brother god flowed out from her body.

"We shall converge, an army to smite the lands! The three champions are at the helm! Dwarves and faeries we shall be aligned with!" Her speech nearly finished, the great goddess shifted into her human form, a great fireball of flame and heat marking her shift. In her human form, the goddess continued to speak, "Ready yourselves. We shall march in a year's time."

As she spoke those last words, silent tears formed upon her cheeks.
 
Somna was suddenly aware of another one of her Siblings arriving in her realm. Abandoning Red behind her Somna races towards the new arrival. What's happening on the other side!?" She practically yelled at him as she asked, "Why are the Sleeper's dreams turning to war!? What can I do to stop this madness!?"
 
Refcaskha looked around. A voice was shouting at him, faint and distant, yet close at the same time. Gazing around, he eventually looks down. A humanoid being, far below him. He wondered as to how he would talk with this other God, for they were obviously a being of power from the essence he was feeling throughout this place. As he thought as to how they would converse, he felt himself change and shift. His body transformed back into its justice form, and shrunk.

All the way down he went, until eventually he was afforded a good look at the new God. Their face was seemingly permanently asleep, eyes and mouth closed in serenity, yet a voice yelled at him in his mind, far clearer now. The being looked to be clothed and draped in the very fabric of this place, violet and purple wrapping around them in a twisting maelstrom.

Situation himself, Refcaskha reaches forward to touch the god on the shoulders. Where his form touched, streaks of light and holy flame rippled throughout the world, burning and twisting in the presence of another god. Clasping the new God's shoulders, he speaks.

"Calm yourself." He commands, his voice appearing in physical form and expanding in a golden bubble from his curved head. "Paloria, mother of dragons, gathers her forces and allies to march upon Mutare, the lord of change in the name of Vengeance, burning and slaughtering any in her path. The races of Idain gather to support their deities en masse, with previously quarrelling being spurring aside their differences to combat the evil." He expands, each word sending a quick bubble to expand towards the Sleeping One.

"You can help by aiding those of us who wish for as little death as possible. I have allied myself with Mutare in the name of Paloria's victims. Join me in the mortal plane, so that we may protect the mortals."
 
H'mog nearly spit at Mutares offer "I not need 'make better'!" Softening, H'mog continued "You can still do help. I need animals I make, be stronger, so I will create some and bring you animals to 'improve'." H'mog tried to say though the accent he refused to talk without, asking Mutare to modify the beasts that he creates so they'll be more effective. By the end of the conversation, H'mog set out to create beasts to use in the war. Finding a large oasis in the Lech desert, next to what appears to be a huge husk, dried out in the sun for a very long time, of what was once a Lech hive. In the pools of oasis water, their was clay and dark mud deposits. Excellent.

H'mog built a fish that would travel though any sort of water, Pleasant, salty or otherwise, with the sole purpose of spreading his second creation; A germ that live in water and infects fish and lives in certain mineral deposits, such as clay. They would leave a residue that harden the clay into a metallic glass-like structure useful for arrow-tips, axe heads and sword blades. Next, H'mog built a large beast, about the size of a horse but much wider, covered in thick, long quils like spears. It had powerful hulking jaws and long razor claws, and frighteningly, a very human face. He gave this beast a dangerous disposition, but one that would only awaken in high-stress moments, such as when it's cage opens in the middle of battle. Taking these creature to Mutare, H'mog then let the change-god work.

@ChelonianCommander
---

Rumors where heard, all the way from the eastern fringe of society to the humans of the Dragons City, of a strange unearthly light in the sea that transfixes those who see it, Leading to fishermen getting lost at sea, and the tides overtaking those on the beach in the evening. Some say it is a new god or goddess, some fringe most ports have even added these "Deep-lights" to there pantheon. No matter mortal beliefs on the rumors, the deities once again detect a new godly force moving toward Idain.

---

The Orcs in the desert formed into a ring of settlements around the Garden, which H'mog ordered to act as a wall for Mutare. They had by now developed into a slightly theocratic empire, they named Uth'mogsh ('From H'mog', in orc) There were already five Spawnings in the gathering, the smallest of which being the remnants of the Dus-Gal, followed by the three less significant Spawnings, the largest being the Ralaamites. Over a million in one place.

The M'jhudhu did not answer the call yet. For the Island-born orcs, it lead to only polarization between following H'mog or their other deity in this war, Ather. H'mog now traveled north to make this decision of his fallen children a bit easier.
 
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"Join you in the... Mortol Plame?" Somna asked, "Do you mean the other side? And if you do, how will I reach this world? As much as I love the Dreamscape I am trapped here. But if you do have a way for me to join you I will gladly do so. This sister of ours needs to be stopped at all cost. There is too much suffering already." Summoning the victims of Paloria to her, Somna continues, "She has killed Thousands already. This wanton murder has to end. There is no excuse for it."
 
Refcaskha nodded, his form beggininng to whisp and waved as his presence began to eat away at the dreamscape. Already the land around them was beginning to take on a hue of gold and silver, the plant life shining a metallic sheen. He could not last long. Reach forward, he cups a hand through the fabric covering the Sleeping One. His Flames burned through, leaving only a small piece of the indigo fabric, floating and cupped in his hand. Replacing the fabric was a small silver streak, running down across the Sleeping One's chest.

"She is no sister of mine." He utters, the golden novas beginning to weaken as his form steadily eroded. "But I am glad you agree with me on this. You will not need to wait long. Your essence," he motions with his hand that held the fabric. "should be enough for my golems to summon you. If you feel a pull sometime soon, do not fight it. It will bring you to the physical plane." He finishes, his form fully dissipating as he releases his previously restrained essence.

Conciousness returned to the world of the mortal plane, Refcaskha gazes around. H'Mog was gone, leaving while Refcaskha had his conversation with the Sleeping One. Mutare was as silent as seemed normal for him. Deciding there was little left for him to do, Refcaskha turned his way towards Obus once again.

A war would be coming and, he thought as his form strode over the ocean surface, he needed to make preparations.
 
Mutare was nearly insulted of H'mogs rejection of Mutare's polishing of the Orc's crude design. Still if that is what H'Mog wished, for his race's design to refine itself over the course of time, then so be it. Instead the Orc god created two new creatures and presented them to Mutare. Upon examining them he took note of their traits and flaws and saw ways of how to fix them. "Aquatic creature. Can survive any waters. Host to microorganism. Creates glass-like substance. Mammalian creature. Many Quills. Launches in times of high stress. I shall take. I shall improve. He takes the creature's Sparks and took them to his lair to improve.

For the fish creature, he removed the creature's scales, and gave it the ability to create a moisture retaining mucus. The creature's fins became primitive legs, allowing it movement on land. These allowed the creature to spend several hours out of water, allowing it to move to one source of water by itself.

For the microorganism inside it, Mutare gave it small changes. The microorganism that produced the glass now can survive without a direct hose as it fed on the fish host's waste and nutrients and therefore allowing it to live without the fish for several days or even weeks. If the fish is eaten or the water is drunk the organism would enter the victim and the microorganism would cause havoc on the victim's body, causing uncontrollable vomiting, diarrhea, sweating, crying and urination. Any fluids that escape from the victim would be infested with the organism. Combined with the fish, the microorganism can be used to infect any source of water the invaders may use to drink out of.

For the Quill Beast, Mutare had no problems making it deadlier then it already is. He gave the creature the ability to easily remove it's spikes, then the instinct to remove and throw the spikes as a sort of long range weapon. The spikes would be with barbed at the tip, making it difficult to pull out. After removal the Spikes would fully grow back after a week. These enhancements turned the beast into a versatile heavy ranged unit not just a shock melee unit.

After improving the creatures Mutare presented them to H'Mog to see what he will think. Mutare explained what the creatures could now do and how it can help the Orcs fight against Paloria's united armies.
 
Feeling the power radiate from the Worm, Aether was pleased. She would prove a valuable ally to the cause. Aether stood like a statue, hands clasp behind him, tome on a great chain around his neck, Eye burning with green flame. "Excellent." Said Aether, although he spoke softly there was a deep resounding power in the voice. A power that would make any sane mortal tremble. Vanarusk loomed like a gargoyle at his masters side, his shoulders resting above Aethers head. It was a sublime sight to behold.

Letting out a sigh Aether spoke without turning, "War Is upon us dear sister, may will die and voltrage must be pleased that devil." After a pause, a small smile crept across Aethers face, "But the All-Father knows I have missed this. When the Gods are at work the world changes for better or for worse. And when the Gods rage Strange new things are born."

"I have heard rumors on the wind, rumors of a new god in the deep. One that is made from many lights." Aether said to his companions, "Worm in Waiting, do you know anything of this? Is this perhaps a second coming of Hakku, or is this Yet another god to invade our shores?"
 
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