A New Creation (IC)

[Terminus Alpha]

Once, there was only darkness. Nothingness reigned. Creation was not yet ready, it's essence was still frozen, stopped where it was when the last Creation ended, when the last Pantheon ended. This dark essence was only broken by small motes of light, the seeds of what was to come. These seeds were the last hope for Creation, the remnants of the last Pantheon - the souls of the Gods themselves.

Now, light flowed into Creation. Nothingness was beat back once again. The essence of Creation liquefied, turning from frozen and void of color into a flowing sea of grey. The motes - the Souls of the very Gods themselves - grew from the essence and all knew that the new Pantheon must be born. Creation continued in the background of their growth. The majority of the Essence turned solid black once again, unused and unneeded - for now. Some continued to flow, remaining liquid and flowing slowly. Yet more birthed souls, changing from grey to gold. These souls took to the Gods, asking for bodies, promising themselves to the Gods in exchange.

Now, Creation once again fell dark, as the Gods argued and jostled for positions. This continued until the Souls rose, demanding their promised bodies, and the Gods saw to making the Followers world. Plants and water grew from Essence. Black ground was replaced with brown Earth or yellow Sand. The Gods made their followers bodies, and placed them in the world. The followers made totems to their chosen God, and the totems gave the Gods power. Now the Gods take their struggles to the Mortal realm seeking to control the Mortals and become the One True God.

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Rules

• 1. Stay within your powers. If you are the God of Earth, you can't make oceans.
• 2. Gods can't be killed, but they can be kicked from the Pantheon, which strips them of a lot of power.
• 3. Mortals are the key to power. More followers = more power. This will be determined by me, the OP, every page or so.
• 4. You can be God of only two areas. And they can't be contradictory.

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The Pantheon

• Chief God: Caelum
• Secondary Gods: Vardaelia, Sapphire, Tengeryel, O'lim
• Tertiary Gods: Nul the Artificer, Stana, Hahvulon, Dyrraeon the Unstable, Selena
• Gods not in the Pantheon:

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OOC

[Paketo]

Two weary human travelers climbed the hill, one male and the other female. The woman was obviously pregnant and as they reached the summit of the hill, They found a old man tending a small hearth off to the side of the beaten path. The old man caught sight of the two and motioned them over to sit on the logs surrounding the hearth. The two did so sitting next to each other on a log opposite to the old man. The old man, with eyes red as flames then spoke "welcome travelers, it seems you are weary from your travels so rest here by my hearth. Have some bread and water to satisfy your needs". The old man then passed to them two loves of bread and cups of water.

The man took what was offered to him and his wife saying "thank you sir, we have had a long journey back home. It is still a days walk before we get back home"

The old man gave him a smile as he replied "well rest now before you leave for your journey once again. I see your wife has been blessed with child, it must be hard on her to walk this much"

The woman subconsciously rubbed her swollen belly giving the old man a smile while the man spoke again "yes, Stana has blessed us with a growing family and we hope it will only grow after this"

The old man chuckled saying "Stana blesses those who care for their family and home. I think Stana will surely continue to bless you from what i see of you now. You seem to care for each other and for your home, things Stana praises. You family will grow large i guarantee"

The group would continue talking for almost a hour before the two had to begin on their journey again. The old man offered them bread drink to take with them for their journey and as the two turned walking away, the old man spoke "safe journey and congratulations on your daughter"

The two puzzled at daughter turned back around only to find the man and the hearth gone from the hill. Their eyes widened and were speechless besides the woman uttering one word "Stana".

[The Seven Archangels]

Regnum Solarum, Throne of the Sun

Caelum, head of the pantheon, for the time being, and father of the Star Born elves, mused in silence on his sunlight throne. He watched over the realms of men, elves, and other creations, thinking idly to himself about the nature of what the gods had wrought into being. “How intriguing they are. And how blind we must be to their nature.” He spoke in a soft tone, and the rays of golden light he emitted from the heavens shone on the world below, and a wave of adoration and gratitude rose up as reward for his continued grace and benevolence upon those that worshipped him.

“Do they worship us idly, are they merely playing out their lives in some great cycle, or do they understand, I wonder? Do they believe in us truly, or are we just figments of their imagination to them, myths to be revered for eternity…” Caelum continued to ponder these thoughts in a vain effort to exact an answer from his own curiosity, mindlessly continuing to regulate the rains and the sunshine and keeping balance on the world below him so that it does not burn to ashes or flood due to constant rainfall.

“Should I choose another Solecor?” Caelum asked rhetorically to himself, uncertain about the consequences of such an act. “Perhaps that would reaffirm their faith in my existence. Or is it even in doubt…? I should learn the answers to these questions.” He concluded finally, rising from his throne and hovering over the mortal realm that stretched endlessly below him.

[The Burning Sun]

Selena, for her part, had no such doubts. While the other gods might sit, high and mighty upon their thrones, she believed in spending her time amongst these mortals, observing, interacting, and inspiring. As she wandered through the halls of one of humanity's greatest palaces, furnished with some of its most wonderful art, she couldn't help but remember each and every time she had implanted the inspiration for a particular work in some yet unknown artist and blessed him with an ageless masterpiece. She demanded no worship or sacrifice, yet aspirants still offered up prayers and precious stones in her name. While she had little use for such baubles, every time she saw them it inspired some kind of warmth in her heart, and so she had taken to wearing them whenever appearing in the mortal world.

[Hate Full Chess]

Deceivo sat idly in a tavern carving a new set of chess. When it was finished he asked one of the men in the inn if they would play him in a game the only rules being that if the mortal lost he would be in bondage to the god of tricks. The man, who was quite tipsy and a good chess player, imediately accepted.

In 5 turns the mortal was defeated and Dec (for short) had another follower. Decievo kept at it until all of the tavern customers were in bondage. He then took everything off them that he fancied and went to the next inn.

[Aden Protectorate]

The Great Sky

Tengeryel fell. How does a sky god fall, from the Sky? The simple answer being that Tengeryel had chosen to fall. In his mortal form of a man with his arms outstretched he plummeted from thousands of feet. O' how he loved this feeling, at this time he was in his element, surrounded completely by the winds of his domain, indeed he could bend these winds to his every will, he could bend them on his fancy, on his whim. Yet at this point he did no such thing.

As he fell he switched form, at one point becoming an eagle, majestically soaring, he could feel the rays of his brother Caelum's domain, the sun, warm his rust-coloured feathers. He changed once more, plummeting once more as a man, as he neared the ground with the flick of his fingers the wind began to conform to his divine will, and thousands of hands, made of nothing but the air around him, grabbed his tunic and lowered him safely onto the land.

He looked around, he had landed on one of the Steppes his followers called home. In the distance he could make out a yurt camp, small, maybe 200-300 people, but still a camp, with a likely chance that they engaged in his worship. He began, with a spring in his step, as he had not inhabited the land for which he was born to keep apart from the Heavens in nearly 100 years.

He was a bit clumsy at first, but within ten minutes he could walk well. Within fifteen minutes he had reached the camp, and was greeted by a young boy.

"Young man, if you could lead me too your villages local shaman I would be much obliged to give you some Yeli Sweets (a type of hard candy made by the people of the Steppes."

The boys eyes lit up, and quickly lead Tengeryel to a yurt hut. Inside sat a frail and aging shaman, not long for this world. Tengeryel promptly paid the boy and walked up to the Shaman.

"Tomorbaatar Tengerlegbaatar, you have been shaman of this village for 50 long years, and you have done well, you have fulfilled your service to me, for I am Tengeryel, for your devotion I have decided to reward you and name you a Tengeriyil, you shall completely bypass the Trials of Fate and forever assure yourself a life of bliss with me in the Sky, you shall be forever young, and forever happy. Should you wish to join me, take my hand."

The man was hesitant for a second, but he reached out his hand, and took the gods. With that his soul left his body and the two vanished, as wisps of wind. On the dead mans corpse there was a pleasant smile, and on his forehead he had left the Symbol of Tengeryel, so the people of the village knew that their Shaman had left with the god.

[Utceforp]

Un wandered wordlessly through an ancient, ruined building. Simultaneously one of his greatest failures and proudest successes. The builders of this ancient place were forgotten and relegated to history, and he had not been able to save them. Their monuments and writing, however, would last for far longer, and hopefully inspire new builders. Un was in a philosophical mood, so he ruminated on what that meant. Perhaps that was his purpose when he aided the mortal races. Perhaps it was his role to take the ephemeral bone and flesh of humankind and guide it towards the shaping of eternal stone and metal. Or perhaps his purpose was just to screw with the other gods as much as possible, and helping humanity was just a stepping stone towards that. Could be either.

Un decided to stop focusing on the old instead on the new. His gaze turned, and with it his manifested form flew across the world, to a peasant's hut. The peasant was on the cusp of a great idea. Un merely focused the peasant's mind and sharpened his thoughts, to aid the peasant in his thinking. Then he turned away, and did it to a million other prospective idea-makers.

Deciding to take a break from his work, Un again turned his attention to one of the fruits of his labour. A great palace, where the artistic achievements of one of the civilizations he had influenced were on display. Unexpectedly, he sensed another god nearby.

[Asterdan]

In the part of the world plunged in the night a single bonfire was lit. Around it, a group of human-like beings with razor-sharp teeth danced and sang the praises of the Master of Fear and the Stalker of Dreams. They prayed to Hahvulon, the God of Fear and Nightmares, to give them strength, to increase the fear they instilled in others and to let them haunt the dreams of the world.

A yellow-ish mist slowly appeared, engulfing the bonfire and extinguishing the light, a skull appearing for a brief moment. A deep laugh filled with all the fear of the world emanated from this mist, and the creatures let out a cheer.

These creatures were the Vampires. Every culture and civilization knew of them, but none believed they were real. These were the first worshipers of Hahvulon, and the only ones who worshiped him because he could cause fear and give nightmares. No one believed they were real, and that is one of the things the Vampires used to their advantage. Most of them, that is. There was a sect that worshiped other deities more than Hahvulon, and Hahvulon was okay with this.

The Vampires went to spread fear in the world.

The yellow mass of fear which was Hahvulon flowed through the heavens when a voice reached him. It was the prayer of a mortal.

"Hahvulon, great God of Fear and Nightmares," he heard a woman pray at a temple, "My son has been dreaming of the Vampires for the past week. We have tried everything, so now we are coming to you. You are a great, kind god, and we ask that you take away these nightmares from our child and-"
"What seems to be the trouble, madam?" a voice from behind her asked.

She turned around to find a dark-skinned elf, wearing the robes of a Priest of Hahvulon, as well as a golden headband. His ears were pierced and his eyes were the most vibrant shade of red, and they stood out among his long hair, which was blacker than night. His smile, however, was soft, and cast any doubts or fears away.

"M-my son, he's-"she began.
"Dreaming of Vampires." the man finished, "Don't worry, Hahvulon has heard your pleas. He has taken a special interest in you, as you wear his medallion, the symbol of Fear. Hahvulon will keep the Vampires out of your sons dreams, just give him the proper thanks and praise."

The man started to walk away from the woman, who was smiling and crying from joy.

"One more thing," the elf continued, "When he awakes, there will be a tattoo of the Symbol of Hahvulon on his right hand. Your son will be a priest. I believe that he will serve me well."

As he turned around, the woman saw that his robes were now purple and blue. His hair was gone, replaced with a purple hood, and in place of the red eyes were two gaping holes. The biggest change, however, was that his head was now a yellowish skull, wearing what appeared to be a grin. He walked into a yellow mist which had appeared out of nowhere and was gone, the mist fading as quickly as it had appeared.

The woman praised Hahvulon, thankful to be worshiping the God who could take away fear and halt nightmares.

[Nulvelith]

Old man Jenkins Smitty plunged a white-hot piece of iron into the water basin, ignoring the hissing steam. A moment later he withdrew the article, took a close look at it... and then swore. It was a muttered curse, for he'd long ago learned the hard way not to let his father hear such utterances. Even after Jenkins Sr had passed on, and Jenkins Jr had produced a Jenkins Jr, the habit had stuck with him.

The lump of iron was supposed to be an ornately crafted blade, but something was off. The tang just wasn't shaped right, as it was supposed to fit into one of those odd contraptions. The client was a shady fellow, but Jenkins hadn't lived as long as he had by asking questions or wagging his tongue. He got by with anvil and hammer, turning lumps of black iron and silvery steel into pouches of silver and gold coins.

Jenkins sighed, then noticed his apprentice staring at him. The boy was a curious thing, almost as mysterious as the current client. At times, Jenkins swore the child knew more than he did about smithing, though to admit to something like that was ridiculous. With a grunt, Jenkins held the piece out to give his apprentice a better look at it. "Waddaya t'ink of t'is one?"

The apprentice looked at the failure, and Jenkins peered into the boy's face intensely, trying to read some sort of... something there. Clearly the gears were turning, but Jenkins couldn't make heads or tails of the boy's expression.

"Hit it here, then... here. And... don't cool it as fast." The boy's answer was more confident than it should have been. But, Jenkins had come to trust the brat's intuition. Jenkins harrumphed, then stuck the blade back in the flames, muttering a quick prayer to a deity most people didn't even know existed. The boy's eyes nearly twinkled at that with amusement, though Jenkins didn't see the change in expression. When Jenkins pulled the blade out of the fire and turned towards the anvil, the boy was gone.

Jenkins blinked in surprise. The door was tightly shut against the cold, wintry winds, the windows shuttered, and Jenkins hadn't even heard the boy move. Yet, he was gone. With another typical grunt, Jenkins set those thoughts aside and finished the blade, setting it aside. Tomorrow he would etch out the fancy parts. For now, dinner was getting cold - and Jenkins knew that making his wife wait for too long would only end with him sleeping across the doormat in the forge.

Jenkins paused for an instant as he shut and locked the forge room down. Hanging from the handle was a pocket watch on a chain, made of heavy black iron. It was quietly ticking away, and there was a large "J" engraved on the cover. Inside, the clock was unusual. There were no numbers, and the hands made little sense. Jenkins' heart skipped a beat - and at the same time, the watch skipped a tick.

"Huh." Jenkins pocketed the gift, then gave a nod to the god who, he knew, probably wasn't paying attention to him anymore. Nul the artificer never did stay in one place for very long.

[Republic Of Robots]

Smiling Sapphire mused the worship of man and decided he should go among them and grant there prayers, he sent himself to one of his bigger yet almost his least favorite temples. In the forest with a large castle and town filled with thieves he did not like how the people abused his power and destroyed his principles. He is happy when he sees people come over. "Maybe they will help me as I took the form of a weak poor child" he thinks. His hopes are smashed when the leader of what he now realises as a gang comes up to him. "What are you doing in a place like this beggar, the gods have no place for people like you give us all you own and we will not carry out rightful justice." Realizing he must help all of his cities that worship him he stands up looks the thief in the eye before absorbing the dark sapphire in the temples energy and making it it's normal colour before shooting lances of ice into all of the thieves putting them on the alter and leaving a note on each of there souls for the carrier of souls to find. "Give these false worshippers to my brother". Sapphire flies into the sky collecting all of his followers power and sets out to fulfil the wishes of the pious and righteous

Riding a wave of water he decides to take a form of a water dragon. Deciding to go to his strong hold he enters the desert. His first stop is a village, with more dying of thirst than ever in Sapphire's absence. The once proud desert people even beyond this village are hurting. He lands at his temples feet and hears a woman praying inside. "Please God of prosperity help my son he is just a baby he does not deserve to die" the woman is praying those words repeatedly. Sapphire can physically see the prayer energy coming from the woman. He walks up to the woman and says "Lead me to your son as he shall henceforth be named River Bringer." He follows the shocked woman to her son. Walking up to "River Bringer" and carves a symbol that makes him a priest of prosperity. He then flies up ignoring the cries of thanks from the woman and starts carving a river. With water forming in the air a lake that produces endless water forms in the grounds and rivers branch out. With the shore of the lake lining itself with diamonds and gold. Exhausted Sapphire goes to the bottom of the lake and curls up to sleep.

[Breitenfeld-Sibbesborg]

A woman walked through the small village, the snow barely crunching under her light feet, drawing very little attention. She wore the garb of a warrior, but bore no weapon. Her bright-blue eyes were directed towards the ground, lest she be recognised by any of the villagers. Several children began to run around her, tugging at her leather armour, urging her to play with them. She was unable to resist, her often-kind heart not allowing it. As one of the children passed in front of her, she reached down, picking up the small child. The child screamed with joy, drawing a laugh from the warrior woman. After some time of play, however, the woman bade the children farewell. She continued on her path through the small village, coming finally to the house of the village Chief.

The warrior woman entered the house of the village Chief, finding merely one guard standing there, weapon ready. The woman approached the man, brushing her hand against his shoulder. "You'll let me visit with the chief, will you not?" The man didn't budge, unaffected by the woman's forward nature. Then, her hand touched his bare cheek. The man visibly buckled in his knees, suddenly growing red in colour. He looked down at the woman, embarrassed by his sudden arousal, and stepped to the side, allowing her to pass. As the woman walked past the man, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, which sent the man into a romantic trance, intoxicated by the mere sensation of her kiss.

The village Chief was a female, which did not surprise the warrior woman. Of course, the Chief was quite surprised to see that somebody had been allowed into her private room. The Chief voiced her concern at the sudden intrusion, "How did you get past my guard, you ill-bred peasant?" The Chief was a beautiful woman, but she was very cruel. It was then that the Goddess Brynja looked up at the woman, her light-blue eyes glowing with divine power. The Chief stepped back, "Oh my, but you are the Goddess Brynja. What brings you to my chamber?" Brynja spoke in a divine language known by only the high priestesses of Brynja, "Uritón me celltáibh dubnon ónghisetí." Brought on by Brynja's divine words, the Chief's face began to sag and drop, great boils forming from her skin. The Chief dropped to her knees, shouting in pain, as Brynja stepped towards her. The Goddess placed her hand on the Chief's head as the once-beautiful woman became monstrous-looking. "As I give, I can also take away. You have been cruel to my people, and have deserved punishment. You will no longer wield your beauty like a weapon against others. You will know what it is to be a monster." The Chief cried out, screaming for the guard, but Brynja was already gone by the time the guard arrived, still swooning. The Goddess had returned to her domain in the divine realm.

[Paketo]

A woman walked through the small village, the snow barely crunching under her light feet, drawing very little attention. She wore the garb of a warrior, but bore no weapon. Her bright-blue eyes were directed towards the ground, lest she be recognised by any of the villagers. Several children began to run around her, tugging at her leather armour, urging her to play with them. She was unable to resist, her often-kind heart not allowing it. As one of the children passed in front of her, she reached down, picking up the small child. The child screamed with joy, drawing a laugh from the warrior woman. After some time of play, however, the woman bade the children farewell. She continued on her path through the small village, coming finally to the house of the village Chief.

The warrior woman entered the house of the village Chief, finding merely one guard standing there, weapon ready. The woman approached the man, brushing her hand against his shoulder. "You'll let me visit with the chief, will you not?" The man didn't budge, unaffected by the woman's forward nature. Then, her hand touched his bare cheek. The man visibly buckled in his knees, suddenly growing red in colour. He looked down at the woman, embarrassed by his sudden arousal, and stepped to the side, allowing her to pass. As the woman walked past the man, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, which sent the man into a romantic trance, intoxicated by the mere sensation of her kiss.

The village Chief was a female, which did not surprise the warrior woman. Of course, the Chief was quite surprised to see that somebody had been allowed into her private room. The Chief voiced her concern at the sudden intrusion, "How did you get past my guard, you ill-bred peasant?" The Chief was a beautiful woman, but she was very cruel. It was then that the Goddess Brynja looked up at the woman, her light-blue eyes glowing with divine power. The Chief stepped back, "Oh my, but you are the Goddess Brynja. What brings you to my chamber?" Brynja spoke in a divine language known by only the high priestesses of Brynja, "Uritón me celltáibh dubnon ónghisetí." Brought on by Brynja's divine words, the Chief's face began to sag and drop, great boils forming from her skin. The Chief dropped to her knees, shouting in pain, as Brynja stepped towards her. The Goddess placed her hand on the Chief's head as the once-beautiful woman became monstrous-looking. "As I give, I can also take away. You have been cruel to my people, and have deserved punishment. You will no longer wield your beauty like a weapon against others. You will know what it is to be a monster." The Chief cried out, screaming for the guard, but Brynja was already gone by the time the guard arrived, still swooning. The Goddess had returned to her domain in the divine realm.

"she gives beauty and she takes it away" spoke a voice from behind Brynja and if she turned she would see Stana in the form of a child no more than five. His Green cloak now a bit over sized and his staff at his side while his eyes glowed with amusement. "It has been awhile since I've been to your domain Brynja but still looks the same as before. I also see you still like to take the from of a warrior woman still, you never change" spoke Stana, a smile on his face. The love goddess was one of the few gods he called a friend because of the linkage between their domains. Love would turn into family and family would spawn more love. "You still toy with the mortal men's hearts using your beauty and take away the beauty of those who misuse it. I will say it again, you truly never change" said Stana, his smile being kept up on his face.

[The Seven Archangels]

As he turned around, the woman saw that his robes were now purple and blue. His hair was gone, replaced with a purple hood, and in place of the red eyes were two gaping holes. The biggest change, however, was that his head was now a yellowish skull, wearing what appeared to be a grin. He walked into a yellow mist which had appeared out of nowhere and was gone, the mist fading as quickly as it had appeared.
The woman praised Hahvulon, thankful to be worshiping the God who could take away fear and halt nightmares.

Caelum hovered a short distance away, at first taking the form of a specter of light, watching the scene before him unfold. Once more his son has shown grace to a follower, and Caelum began to believe that his son had earnestly changed to become better. But something beset him with doubt. Moving forward, however, Caelum traveled as a ray of sunlight, overlooking the world and watching the gods mingle with the populace. He watched his younger brother, Tengeryel, soar as an eagle through his domain of the Sky, and then he fell upon the land below, following a pair of travelers remarking about their recent meeting with a certain god. "Faith is strong still. But do they understand?" Caelum whispered softly, his voice too low for others to hear.

He continued his journey, flying at great speeds until he reached the Stormlands of the Stel-Natus. He was greeted by the shadow of their towering, golden-bricked citadels, which grasped at the sky and strove to break through the barrier that impeded their desires to look upon their god. Though their spires were massive and decorated wealthily, and every day, innumerable prayers reached his ears, Caelum still sought a reason, a voice that knew the answer to his question. It was then that he heard a voice whispered in the wind that reached his ears.

"Heavenly lord that graces the world with life and light, I beseech thee a question. A question of existence, of meaning. What is it to be mortal? What is it to be a god? Are we but cattle, or are we beloved?" The voice inquired with a soft, respectful tone, endeavoring not to sound harsh or undeserving. His curiosity and doubt echoed in his spoken words, and Caelum was moved by it. He soared towards its source, and his light fell upon the reed-roofed tower that the inquirer resided in. Entering through the open window, a bright, blinding ray of sunlight announcing his arrival, the elderly, silver-haired elf was taken aback in shock and awe at the appearance of his god.

"You ask unto me questions of a higher nature?" Caelum returned the man's questions with one of his own, speaking in a powerful tone to test the mettle of this man. The elf, still awed, bowed deeply before Caelum, choked to the point of silence and trying desperately to reply. It was, as Caelum knew, all that he could muster to answer his god's question. "Yes."

Caelum relented on the display of power and light, and coalesced into the form of the brown-haired, gleaming armored elf with golden eyes, standing still taller than the silver-haired elder. "I then greet thee, Hilaeron, one of my children, and accept thine invitation to a discussion of greater proportions than that which thine exists as." He spoke, no longer in a powerful, booming voice, but with a soft echoing present, and a calm, even tone. "Know however, that what thy shallst learn must be written as it is said, or I shall fall upon thee with relentless wrath and reclaim what I have gifted thee." The man rose, slowly, nodding his affirmation, but still stunned to silence. Still, his silvery eyes spoke of an eagerness and joy that he could barely manage to contain, and within them, Caelum thought, he could see youthful hope return to the elf.

[Nytavuthar]

Some Mortal City Kundros Didn't Like...

Kundros walked among the mortals in a simple tunic, making sure that he is not noticed. He never really liked humans; mostly because he believed they are rewarded way too much for doing absolutely nothing. The only good thing that the humans do is worship him after some great disaster caused by an angry deity. Once the disaster bypassed humans would usually erect totems in order to pray for a blessed reconstruction. Kundros unfortunately had a ver soft side on him. He would grant these miserable humans some leeway with tips on rebuilding and the like.

Right now Kundros could sense a large amount of jealousy among the populace. This large concentration of envy was targeted at the king of this city. He wasn't a particularly good king. He would sit at the top of his acropolis-like palace and looked down on his people like they were sheep. And the sheep sure did hate their shepherd. Kundros could sense so much envy that he virtually knew that a major uprising was going to occur. So, Kundros did the that he could do. Sit back and watch until it was over. Then he would step in, congratulate the victor, they would hold a feast in his name, he would help rebuild, and finally he would leave. Taking as a tribute a few human followers.

Turns out that the uprising did happen. The civil uprising was very bloody. It seemed like some people actually like the king, enough to lay down their life. It seems like this reconstruction would be down a very long road. While the fighting raged; Kundros ordered followers to make sure that ascensions and elections around the world are managed properly, and make sure to convert some of the populace who have fallen to jealousy. Kundros would make sure to entertain himself with watching the humans fight amongst themselves, and then he will become the light at the end of the tunnel...

[Aden Protectorate]

The Great Sky Palace

Tengeryel sighed. Children, the never learn. He sat in the Sky Throne Palace, an sprawling complex that perched on the clouds. Made of dense clouds, that looked like marble to the eye but could take any form the God wished. He sat on a cloud throne, it too looked like marble. On its back it was emblazoned with the Eagle of Tengeryel. On another, lesser throne beside him sat Heleina, she was a Tengeriyil, but not just any old one. No, they had been lovers when she was still alive, and no she was his consort and the mother of his child, the Goddess Brynja.

He would have to talk to her about playing with the hearts of mortals, these beings where ruled by their emotions. It could be a very dangerous game messing with them, very dangerous indeed. She knew better, for years he and her mother had schooled her on the use of her power, but it was apparently to no avail.

He turned to his beloved, with a heavy sigh he mused.

"O' Heleina my beloved, why does our daughter act so, she knows how dangerous her powers may be, it has been many years since we last had to speak to her on this matter, but I fear that it is necessary at this point."

She smiled. Her smile was comforting. She replied.

"Do not worry Tengeryel, I shall handle this with you, she has always been more responsive when we both talked to her, of we talk to her as the women she is I am sure she will listen. I'll send a Tengeriyil too ferry her up to the Palace."

Heleina walked away, and jumped off the cloud that the palace was on, landing on another which housed the living quarters of the Tengeriyil. She hailed one over who then, once she had given him instructions, departed the cloud, and began to descend towards the surface.

[Breitenfeld-Sibbesborg]

"She gives beauty and she takes it away" spoke a voice from behind Brynja and if she turned she would see Stana in the form of a child no more than five. His Green cloak now a bit over sized and his staff at his side while his eyes glowed with amusement. "It has been awhile since I've been to your domain Brynja but still looks the same as before. I also see you still like to take the from of a warrior woman still, you never change" spoke Stana, a smile on his face. The love goddess was one of the few gods he called a friend because of the linkage between their domains. Love would turn into family and family would spawn more love. "You still toy with the mortal men's hearts using your beauty and take away the beauty of those who misuse it. I will say it again, you truly never change" said Stana, his smile being kept up on his face.

Brynja waited for the individual to stop speaking before turning around, a smile on her face. She knew it was Stana from the moment he started to speak. She walked to him, hugging him as a greeting, glad to see her friend. "Stana, as rare as it is to see you here, I am very glad. I have not changed very much, but why should I do so? I am a divine with a great power. There is no need to change." She walked towards a white throne upon which she sat, looking towards Stana. "Of course I still take the form of a warrior. People both respect warriors, and expect no special behaviour from them when they walk into a village. As to my temptation of men, how could I possibly stop? Mortal men are so easy to tempt, as their minds are so often corrupted with lustful thoughts." She smiled again, her perfect white teeth matching the white of the snow throughout her divine realm.

The Great Sky Palace

Tengeryel sighed. Children, the never learn. He sat in the Sky Throne Palace, an sprawling complex that perched on the clouds. Made of dense clouds, that looked like marble to the eye but could take any form the God wished. He sat on a cloud throne, it too looked like marble. On its back it was emblazoned with the Eagle of Tengeryel. On another, lesser throne beside him sat Heleina, she was a Tengeriyil, but not just any old one. No, they had been lovers when she was still alive, and no she was his consort and the mother of his child, the Goddess Brynja.

He would have to talk to her about playing with the hearts of mortals, these beings where ruled by their emotions. It could be a very dangerous game messing with them, very dangerous indeed. She knew better, for years he and her mother had schooled her on the use of her power, but it was apparently to no avail.

He turned to his beloved, with a heavy sigh he mused.

"O' Heleina my beloved, why does our daughter act so, she knows how dangerous her powers may be, it has been many years since we last had to speak to her on this matter, but I fear that it is necessary at this point."

She smiled. Her smile was comforting. She replied.

"Do not worry Tengeryel, I shall handle this with you, she has always been more responsive when we both talked to her, of we talk to her as the women she is I am sure she will listen. I'll send a Tengeriyil too ferry her up to the Palace."

Heleina walked away, and jumped off the cloud that the palace was on, landing on another which housed the living quarters of the Tengeriyil. She hailed one over who then, once she had given him instructions, departed the cloud, and began to descend towards the surface.

Brynja could feel a great feeling that somebody else was entering her realm. She knew it by the chanting of her priestesses on the peak of the great mountain Hverir. She stood from her throne, looking towards the snows of the peak of Hverir, seeing a curious figure approaching. She went towards the figure, her divinity allowing her to be fearless of the intruder, but she did recognise the individual as she approached. She realised that the person upon her mountain was a Tengeriyil, likely sent by Brynja's father. Brynja, frustrated that her father and mother wouldn't summon her personally, walked back into her palace on the peak. She looked over at Stana, a saddened look in her eyes. "I do apologise, my friend, but I am needed in the Sky Throne Palace. It seems my father wishes to scold me." With that, she made her way out into the cold snow, confident that Stana could show himself back to his own realm.

Brynja took longer than necessary in order to reach the Palace of her father, Tengeryel. It was a breathtaking place, but Brynja had a dislike for it. She hated being scolded, especially by her father and mother. She did care how they though of her, so to be summoned to the palace in such a way gave her a bad feeling. Upon arrival, she ignored the various tengeriyils around her, opening the main door on her own. She walked into the palace, forcing herself to smile, her long white robe flowing behind her as she walked. She approached the thrones of her father and mother, spreading her arms as if to embrace them. "Father, Mother, why is it that you have sent one of your tengeriyil to my Hverir? I had dear company, and I hate to leave company without a hostess."

[Aden Protectorate]

"Father, Mother, why is it that you have sent one of your tengeriyil to my Hverir? I had dear company, and I hate to leave company without a hostess."

Tengeryel had to admit, his daughter had a thing for entrances. Of course they where both very proud of her, she was a influential goddess, she could make both men and women adore her, she had a large following and was getting more and more involved in the politics of the divine by the day, yet still, they where scolding her, almost like when she was young and didn't know the full effect of her powers.

Tengeryel could tell that she was frustrated, but she hid it well. He stood, along with Heleina, at this point he had shrunken down to about her height, and his form was solidifying. They both glided over to her, Heleina gave her a hug, very brief though, before she came back to Tengeryel's side.

He spoke.

"Sorry for calling you on short notice, and we are sorry that we didn't invite you personally. Don't worry we won't take long, you can tend to your guests soon. However we assume you know why we have summoned you here?"

[Breitenfeld-Sibbesborg]

Tengeryel had to admit, his daughter had a thing for entrances. Of course they where both very proud of her, she was a influential goddess, she could make both men and women adore her, she had a large following and was getting more and more involved in the politics of the divine by the day, yet still, they where scolding her, almost like when she was young and didn't know the full effect of her powers.

Tengeryel could tell that she was frustrated, but she hid it well. He stood, along with Heleina, at this point he had shrunken down to about her height, and his form was solidifying. They both glided over to her, Heleina gave her a hug, very brief though, before she came back to Tengeryel's side.

He spoke.

"Sorry for calling you on short notice, and we are sorry that we didn't invite you personally. Don't worry we won't take long, you can tend to your guests soon. However we assume you know why we have summoned you here?"

Brynja was very happy to see her father and mother, but she wouldn't show it, since she still had to maintain the look of a frustrated individual. Her father shrunk himself down to be her height, which frustrated Brynja more. She strives to impress her parents and to prove to them that she is worthy of true praise as a Goddess, yet they still treat her as one beneath them. She did understand it though, since she was their daughter. "Father, I haven't any idea why I have been summoned here." She felt like it likely was due to her influencing of the mortal guard in her devoted village, but she would play as though she didn't know. "Am I in trouble, Father? For I have done nothing that is forbidden." She looked at her parents with her bright-blue eyes, which so often made the hearts of mortals melt like snow next to a warm fire.

[The Starlight]

The Great Forest of Vardae

A woman stood before the Great Forest Vardae. It was teeming with life, with every type of plant and animal contained within its borders. And they were tended to by her watchful Ents and Vardelians, the wood elves. Her two created races were her personal guardians of nature, and they traveled far throughout the Earth, spreading her message of environmental stewardship and love for nature. However, t his was their true home. Vardaelia took a step inside the forest, her fingers trailing across the boughs of trees. The grass, trees, flowers and animals parted way before the Earth Mother, bowing. Vardaelia took her time, speaking to each one, providing for their worries, rubbing them in their favorite spots. This was joy. She came upon her most faithful Ent, and the first of them, Yavaran. They talked, Yavaran giving his mistress the details on the current events.

After spending countless hours in the huge forest, she went to go visit her wood elves. For awhile she stood behind a tree, listening to their cheerful songs as they tended the forests. She soon joined in, and took her children into her arms, laughing in delight. Though she had not borne them in her womb, she was their mother, as she was of all the earth, so she was called the Earth Mother. The Wood-elves entertained her for hours with their singing, dancing, playing and eternal youthfulness, before she slipped away as the night came. She dearly wished that she could spend all of her time here, but it was not to be so. She teleported to her palace, built inside, on the side and on the top of a mountain. The gardens were tilled by her and her maidens, and they too contained every plant that she had ever created. Here, she kept track of the numbers of trees, plants and animals upon the earth, watching with a sinking heart as they slowly diminished. Soon, she would have to go on another growing session, where she would regrow trees and plant new ones with her power. But after all that work, she simply stood at the highest point of the mountain, and smiled, still amazed at what she had created.

One day, a very long time ago, the thought had come into her, and so she had put forth her power and created the Earth, plants, animals, along with the Ents and wood-elves. It was her greatest creation, this earth, and it always would be, for she doubted she could create something so massive, so magnificient, so glorious, ever again. But only time would tell.

[Aden Protectorate]

"Father, I haven't any idea why I have been summoned here. Am I in trouble, Father? For I have done nothing that is forbidden."

Tengeryel could see Brynja flashing her eyes, those eyes, she had won many a battle with those. They where her mothers, well, obviously as Tengeryel had no eye colour per say. Rather his eyes changed depending on the way the wind blew, or the temperature, or some other factors he didn't much care about. She was excellent at manipulating people, she was smart, he gave her credit for that. Fine he would play along.

"Brynja we heard about the Chieftess today, that is not the way we handle people like that. There is a way to approach and handle these situations, as too not breed resentment and fear, because fear makes people turn to your cousin (Hahvulon is Caelum son, Caelum is Tengeryel's brother) and we do not want his worship in our lands."

Heleina chimed in.

"We know you had the best intentions but going around it like this is not the best way, first you visit them in a dream, warning them of the consequences of your actions, then if they do not change you must subtly change them, slowly, make them gain weight, have warts slowly grow on their face. Acting aggressive will only make people fear you, adn as your father has covered, that is something we do not want."

[Asterdan]

Hahvulon traveled swiftly, coming into the part of the world blessed with the day. He decided to take his mortal, elven form in order to walk among the people of the world. The mass of yellow, writhing energy condensed into a single spot, solidifying slowly, forming each part of the body and each article of clothing. Finally, the last bits of Hahvulon's godly form entered the mouth, nose and eyes of his mortal form, a staff forming in his hand.

The of fear could sense all the fear in the world calling too him. The Vampires were calling for him to give them his gift of fear, while most other civilizations were worshiping and praying that he would halt the nightmares or take away their fear of something. Others still were praying that he wouldn't show up, bringing the nightmares and fears. Hahvulon had learned a long time ago that in order to use his gifts to their fullest, he had to convince different people he was two different things.

Most believed he was benevolent, helping those who prayed to him get over their fears or taking away the nightmares of their loved ones. A few civilizations believed that he was the embodiment of fear, that he caused mortals to feel fear and he was the one who plagued people with nightmares. Both were right, of course, but only the Vampires knew the true extent of his control. They were the only mortals who knew that he could take away fear completely, and he had done so in an agreement thousands of years prior to with a man named Harkon.

Hahvulon smirked as he heard a nearby prayer. It was in a city run by Elves. As he neared, he realized it wasn't just any Elves, it was the Elves who worshiped primarily his father, Caelum. One may wonder how the God of the Sun and Storms could possibly be the father of the God of Fear and Nightmares. The answer is quite simple, really; Hahvulon was born when Caelum's storms caused the first mortals to feel fear.

Hahvulon entered the city, feeling the presence of his father almost immediately. He knew that he would have to be on his best behavior in this city. Hahvulon followed the sound of the prayer in his name, until he came to a small shack in the ghetto of the city.

"Hahvulon, I know I must steal in order for my family to survive," a man prayed, "and I have already prayed for the skills to pull it off. Now I ask that you take the fear of punishment and the fear of failure away. I know I have to go through with it, but I am scared."

Hahvulon appeared in the house, invisible to the mortals, and looked around. He saw a frail, young woman, and soon saw the disrepair the home was in. Still, Hahvulon was not inclined to answer this prayer in particular, as it mostly involved the domain of another. He prepared to leave when he saw a young lad, sickly in bed. The God of Fear could not bare to see a young one in physical pain. Mental pain, he could handle and even enjoyed at times, but physical pain and suffering was a different story.

He held out his hand and a yellowish smoke bellowed from it, surrounding the neck of the man. A medallion formed from the smoke, a yellow one baring the Symbol of Hahvulon, the Medallion of the God of Fear.

"As long as you wear this medallion," Hahvulon said, still invisible, "you will not fear prosecution or punishment. You will have no fear concerning what needs to be done for your young boy to live."

The man began to cry tears of joy as he held the medallion in his hands, thanking and praising Hahvulon. The God smiled, breathing in the power of praise.

[Breitenfeld-Sibbesborg]

"Father, I haven't any idea why I have been summoned here. Am I in trouble, Father? For I have done nothing that is forbidden."

Tengeryel could see Brynja flashing her eyes, those eyes, she had won many a battle with those. They where her mothers, well, obviously as Tengeryel had no eye colour per say. Rather his eyes changed depending on the way the wind blew, or the temperature, or some other factors he didn't much care about. She was excellent at manipulating people, she was smart, he gave her credit for that. Fine he would play along.

"Brynja we heard about the Chieftess today, that is not the way we handle people like that. There is a way to approach and handle these situations, as too not breed resentment and fear, because fear makes people turn to your cousin (Hahvulon is Caelum son, Caelum is Tengeryel's brother) and we do not want his worship in our lands."

Heleina chimed in.

"We know you had the best intentions but going around it like this is not the best way, first you visit them in a dream, warning them of the consequences of your actions, then if they do not change you must subtly change them, slowly, make them gain weight, have warts slowly grow on their face. Acting aggressive will only make people fear you, adn as your father has covered, that is something we do not want."

Brynja felt both confused and upset that she had approached her duties to her people in such an incorrect manner. She knew that the Chief had been very cruel, and deserved punishment, but she hadn't thought of the consequences. She shuddered at the mere mention of her cousin, whom she hated with a burning passion. She truly did not want his worshipers to infiltrate her lands. "Father, Mother, I know that I have failed you in this, but I did as I thought was right. The woman whom I have marked was a tyrant, and now that she has been put into her place, the people will worship me more. They know that I am the one who saved them from their tyrant. I fail to see how this is a bad situation." Perhaps Brynja was being naïve, but she truly didn't see the harm in removing an unkind ruler.

[Hate Full Chess]

A tiny voice appeared in Dec's head. Ah so someone wants to steal something. Let's see if they need to steal shal we? He asked himself. He mumred a few words and was imediately in the home. He froze. He could sence the presence of the god of fear. Quickly he hid his presence granted the mortals wish and fled.

[The Seven Archangels]

As the day continued onward into the evening hours, as Caelum had spent his time conversing with the silver haired elder, Caelum found himself lighter, happier even, and more confident in his own existence as one of the gods of these people and over all Creation. The silver-haired Elder, Hilaeron, grew more bold with his questions, and more relaxed in the god’s presence, practically drowning in the calm, glowing, warm radiance that he exuded. Whenever the elder strayed to topics and questions that raised into doubt his authority or that of the other gods, Caelum swiftly and firmly quieted those doubts and cut off his “what-if’s,” and subsequent doubts. This man would not be easily appeased, but appeasing him was not the goal Caelum sought. Simply answers and affirmations to be gifted to all of his followers.

It was at the end of this long series of questions and answers and possibilities and debates that Hilaeron’s curiosity was finally satiated to a point that he ceased his questions, save one. “What, if I might inquire, doth my god hold as his true desire?” Hilaeron pointed the question at Caelum, his eyes studying the god’s calm, even expression, and finding nothing of value to discern what the god was thinking. It amused Caelum that this man tried in vain to understand the god before him, but he had done better than many before him, and he was reminded of Solecor, in the first days of his reign over the Stel-Natus.

“I seek peace and hope, child of the stars, but not for myself. I seek it thus to gift to all of creation, so that we might not linger in sorrow and grief, as I had done once before. I seek it thus with all the power I can muster forth, and strive to this goal with vigilance, the same vigilance that I request of all that follow in my footsteps. To me, there is no greater challenge or more glorious undertaking.” Caelum replied with a resolute confidence and assurance that he was, as he knew before, on the right path. He had chosen this path for himself upon the day that Solecor calmed and humbled him into relenting his wrath and foregoing his sorrow, so that he might take part in Creation in a more wondrous way.

The elder gazed upon Caelum with respect and adoration at the answer he was given, and he seemed struck with clarity. He stood up and bowed deeply to Caelum. “I thank thee for thy time and answers, and I will honor thy request in earnest. I shall devote my life to furthering your goals, and shall bestow upon all the truth of what it is you seek. I thank thee with gratitude beyond any ability I have to repay.” He praised the god, as Caelum grew brighter at the gesture and more joyful.

“Seek not to repay a debt that does not exist. Seek only to honor and use the gift I have given thee.” Caelum replied, disappearing in a bright shining flash that shone throughout the city.

Hahvulon traveled swiftly, coming into the part of the world blessed with the day. He decided to take his mortal, elven form in order to walk among the people of the world. The mass of yellow, writhing energy condensed into a single spot, solidifying slowly, forming each part of the body and each article of clothing. Finally, the last bits of Hahvulon's godly form entered the mouth, nose and eyes of his mortal form, a staff forming in his hand.

The of fear could sense all the fear in the world calling too him. The Vampires were calling for him to give them his gift of fear, while most other civilizations were worshiping and praying that he would halt the nightmares or take away their fear of something. Others still were praying that he wouldn't show up, bringing the nightmares and fears. Hahvulon had learned a long time ago that in order to use his gifts to their fullest, he had to convince different people he was two different things.

Most believed he was benevolent, helping those who prayed to him get over their fears or taking away the nightmares of their loved ones. A few civilizations believed that he was the embodiment of fear, that he caused mortals to feel fear and he was the one who plagued people with nightmares. Both were right, of course, but only the Vampires knew the true extent of his control. They were the only mortals who knew that he could take away fear completely, and he had done so in an agreement thousands of years prior to with a man named Harkon.

Hahvulon smirked as he heard a nearby prayer. It was in a city run by Elves. As he neared, he realized it wasn't just any Elves, it was the Elves who worshiped primarily his father, Caelum. One may wonder how the God of the Sun and Storms could possibly be the father of the God of Fear and Nightmares. The answer is quite simple, really; Hahvulon was born when Caelum's storms caused the first mortals to feel fear.

Hahvulon entered the city, feeling the presence of his father almost immediately. He knew that he would have to be on his best behavior in this city. Hahvulon followed the sound of the prayer in his name, until he came to a small shack in the ghetto of the city.

"Hahvulon, I know I must steal in order for my family to survive," a man prayed, "and I have already prayed for the skills to pull it off. Now I ask that you take the fear of punishment and the fear of failure away. I know I have to go through with it, but I am scared."

Hahvulon appeared in the house, invisible to the mortals, and looked around. He saw a frail, young woman, and soon saw the disrepair the home was in. Still, Hahvulon was not inclined to answer this prayer in particular, as it mostly involved the domain of another. He prepared to leave when he saw a young lad, sickly in bed. The God of Fear could not bare to see a young one in physical pain. Mental pain, he could handle and even enjoyed at times, but physical pain and suffering was a different story.

He held out his hand and a yellowish smoke bellowed from it, surrounding the neck of the man. A medallion formed from the smoke, a yellow one baring the Symbol of Hahvulon, the Medallion of the God of Fear.

"As long as you wear this medallion," Hahvulon said, still invisible, "you will not fear prosecution or punishment. You will have no fear concerning what needs to be done for your young boy to live."

The man began to cry tears of joy as he held the medallion in his hands, thanking and praising Hahvulon. The God smiled, breathing in the power of praise.

As he emerged from the tower as a specter of light once more, he had begun to muse on what he had just experienced. But no sooner had he begun to ponder in quiet bliss than were his thoughts disturbed by the taste of fear. His son had appeared in the city, and it brought to Caelum’s attention a certain curiosity at his child’s actions and purpose. He glided gently down to the decrepit home of one of his children. The sight brought to him a certain sorrow that he buried with a drive to learn more about his son’s actions.

He watched as Hahvulon listened to the prayers of the man and was about to leave him to his own, before suddenly changing his mind. A curious gesture of mercy and benevolence that he had not quite expected. He chose to remain invisible and intangible before the mortals, but spoke with an echoing voice that carried a question to Hahvulon’s mind. He had breifly sensed a third god, but as quickly as it appeared, it departed the area, and he was unable to discern which god it might have been. He knew only that it was weak, and at the time, it was not worth persuing.

“Why did you change your mind, my child?" Caelum directly asked Hahvulon, happy at his choice, but altogether confused that he had done such a thing.

[Asterdan]

As the day continued onward into the evening hours, as Caelum had spent his time conversing with the silver haired elder, Caelum found himself lighter, happier even, and more confident in his own existence as one of the gods of these people and over all Creation. The silver-haired Elder, Hilaeron, grew more bold with his questions, and more relaxed in the god’s presence, practically drowning in the calm, glowing, warm radiance that he exuded. Whenever the elder strayed to topics and questions that raised into doubt his authority or that of the other gods, Caelum swiftly and firmly quieted those doubts and cut off his “what-if’s,” and subsequent doubts. This man would not be easily appeased, but appeasing him was not the goal Caelum sought. Simply answers and affirmations to be gifted to all of his followers.

It was at the end of this long series of questions and answers and possibilities and debates that Hilaeron’s curiosity was finally satiated to a point that he ceased his questions, save one. “What, if I might inquire, doth my god hold as his true desire?” Hilaeron pointed the question at Caelum, his eyes studying the god’s calm, even expression, and finding nothing of value to discern what the god was thinking. It amused Caelum that this man tried in vain to understand the god before him, but he had done better than many before him, and he was reminded of Solecor, in the first days of his reign over the Stel-Natus.

“I seek peace and hope, child of the stars, but not for myself. I seek it thus to gift to all of creation, so that we might not linger in sorrow and grief, as I had done once before. I seek it thus with all the power I can muster forth, and strive to this goal with vigilance, the same vigilance that I request of all that follow in my footsteps. To me, there is no greater challenge or more glorious undertaking.” Caelum replied with a resolute confidence and assurance that he was, as he knew before, on the right path. He had chosen this path for himself upon the day that Solecor calmed and humbled him into relenting his wrath and foregoing his sorrow, so that he might take part in Creation in a more wondrous way.

The elder gazed upon Caelum with respect and adoration at the answer he was given, and he seemed struck with clarity. He stood up and bowed deeply to Caelum. “I thank thee for thy time and answers, and I will honor thy request in earnest. I shall devote my life to furthering your goals, and shall bestow upon all the truth of what it is you seek. I thank thee with gratitude beyond any ability I have to repay.” He praised the god, as Caelum grew brighter at the gesture and more joyful.

“Seek not to repay a debt that does not exist. Seek only to honor and use the gift I have given thee.” Caelum replied, disappearing in a bright shining flash that shone throughout the city.

Hahvulon traveled swiftly, coming into the part of the world blessed with the day. He decided to take his mortal, elven form in order to walk among the people of the world. The mass of yellow, writhing energy condensed into a single spot, solidifying slowly, forming each part of the body and each article of clothing. Finally, the last bits of Hahvulon's godly form entered the mouth, nose and eyes of his mortal form, a staff forming in his hand.

The of fear could sense all the fear in the world calling too him. The Vampires were calling for him to give them his gift of fear, while most other civilizations were worshiping and praying that he would halt the nightmares or take away their fear of something. Others still were praying that he wouldn't show up, bringing the nightmares and fears. Hahvulon had learned a long time ago that in order to use his gifts to their fullest, he had to convince different people he was two different things.

Most believed he was benevolent, helping those who prayed to him get over their fears or taking away the nightmares of their loved ones. A few civilizations believed that he was the embodiment of fear, that he caused mortals to feel fear and he was the one who plagued people with nightmares. Both were right, of course, but only the Vampires knew the true extent of his control. They were the only mortals who knew that he could take away fear completely, and he had done so in an agreement thousands of years prior to with a man named Harkon.

Hahvulon smirked as he heard a nearby prayer. It was in a city run by Elves. As he neared, he realized it wasn't just any Elves, it was the Elves who worshiped primarily his father, Caelum. One may wonder how the God of the Sun and Storms could possibly be the father of the God of Fear and Nightmares. The answer is quite simple, really; Hahvulon was born when Caelum's storms caused the first mortals to feel fear.

Hahvulon entered the city, feeling the presence of his father almost immediately. He knew that he would have to be on his best behavior in this city. Hahvulon followed the sound of the prayer in his name, until he came to a small shack in the ghetto of the city.

"Hahvulon, I know I must steal in order for my family to survive," a man prayed, "and I have already prayed for the skills to pull it off. Now I ask that you take the fear of punishment and the fear of failure away. I know I have to go through with it, but I am scared."

Hahvulon appeared in the house, invisible to the mortals, and looked around. He saw a frail, young woman, and soon saw the disrepair the home was in. Still, Hahvulon was not inclined to answer this prayer in particular, as it mostly involved the domain of another. He prepared to leave when he saw a young lad, sickly in bed. The God of Fear could not bare to see a young one in physical pain. Mental pain, he could handle and even enjoyed at times, but physical pain and suffering was a different story.

He held out his hand and a yellowish smoke bellowed from it, surrounding the neck of the man. A medallion formed from the smoke, a yellow one baring the Symbol of Hahvulon, the Medallion of the God of Fear.

"As long as you wear this medallion," Hahvulon said, still invisible, "you will not fear prosecution or punishment. You will have no fear concerning what needs to be done for your young boy to live."

The man began to cry tears of joy as he held the medallion in his hands, thanking and praising Hahvulon. The God smiled, breathing in the power of praise.

As he emerged from the tower as a specter of light once more, he had begun to muse on what he had just experienced. But no sooner had he begun to ponder in quiet bliss than were his thoughts disturbed by the taste of fear. His son had appeared in the city, and it brought to Caelum’s attention a certain curiosity at his child’s actions and purpose. He glided gently down to the decrepit home of one of his children. The sight brought to him a certain sorrow that he buried with a drive to learn more about his son’s actions.

He watched as Hahvulon listened to the prayers of the man and was about to leave him to his own, before suddenly changing his mind. A curious gesture of mercy and benevolence that he had not quite expected. He chose to remain invisible and intangible before the mortals, but spoke with an echoing voice that carried a question to Hahvulon’s mind. He had breifly sensed a third god, but as quickly as it appeared, it departed the area, and he was unable to discern which god it might have been. He knew only that it was weak, and at the time, it was not worth persuing.

“Why did you change your mind, my child?" Caelum directly asked Hahvulon, happy at his choice, but altogether confused that he had done such a thing.

Hahvulon heard his father speak, and slowly reverted to his cloud-like form. His true form almost resembled a raging storm, albeit one that was mostly yellow and had a face. Hahvulon remained invisible to the mortals before spilling out of the house to speak with his father.

"The child," Hahvulon said in his booming voice, full of the fear of the world, "He was sickly and weak. I am fed by fear, not pain. This man's prayer involved the domains of the God of Thieves and the God of Justice, I did not feel it was my place to step in. But then I saw the child, and my heart broke. A child in fear, awakening from a nightmare, I can handle, it strengthens me. A child in pain saddens me. I had to answer his prayer, for the sake of the young lad."