Shadows of Galria (IC/Open/Fantasy)

[DeltaSource]

Shadows of Galria

OOC

Premise

Galria is a land with a history of gods. Before anything else was the creator. The creator is said to have made everything on Galria. When the creator made man, he made two gods to govern them, the goddess of life, Vechna, and the god of death, Strakh. Both of them were to work in harmony. Man would be born, grow, and die. Those whose lives were fruitful and compassionate were given another chance, they were to be reincarnated. Those who did not were punished. To aid the two gods, angels and demons were created. The angels assisted Vechna, the demons Strakh. Time passed, and humanity grew. The two gods that governed them however grew uneasy. They both believed the other to be acting behind the other's back. Vechna believed Strakh to be taking lives before their appointed time, and Strakh believed Vechna to be extending them. This led to both gods openly acting against the other, causing an imbalance in the world's order. The Creator saw this and resigned to start anew with the gods of his world. He created 7 gods, each to govern an element, and gave them the task of ruling humanity. Neither Vechna nor Strakh was pleased with this. Lashing out in anger against the 7, they each attempted to topple them on their own. Refusing to work together proved to be their downfall, as they caused each other more harm than the 7 caused them. Weakened, the 7 sealed both gods away in their respective realms, Vechna to govern the Ether and oversee the rebirth of souls, and Strakh to govern the abyss, torturing the souls of the wicked. The two rebellious gods have not forgotten the war they waged, and the 3,000 years that have passed since the war have only served to fuel their thirst for revenge.

The Majority of this RP takes place in the nation of Monschau. While other nations may play important parts later in the story, creating a character for them may make it harder for some interactions to happen.

Divine Beings and Magic

Lütolf-Wind-God of freedom, music, individualism
Foraii-Earth-God of order, wealth, endurance
Suetek-Fire-God of war, strength, willpower-Brother to Goddess of Chloro
Perun-Lighting-God Fertility, newness, unpredictability
Basamum-Chloro(Plants)-Goddess of peace, wisdom, understanding-See Suetek
Kisshoten-Water-Goddess of love, compassion, mercy-Sister to Goddess of Ice
Kakuyama-Ice-Goddess of hate, selfishness, ruthlessness-See Kisshoten

Vechna: Goddess of Life-Served by the angels, banished from Galria by the 7 gods. Lives in the ether.
Strakh: God of Death-Served by the demons, banished from Galria by the 7 gods. Lives in the abyss.

The Creator-Created all the gods, demons, and angels. Highest authority. Does not interfere often. Created Life and Death to govern all Galria, but when the two feuded, created the 7 to replace them. The 7 replaced Life and Death and banished them from Galria.

Angels- Led by the 7 Heralds of wrath. The majority of angels were banished with their goddess.

Demons- Led by the 7 Generals of Sin, The majority banished with their god.

Magical Affinity-Each god rules an element. A mortal can be recognized by a god and be gifted with a magical affinity to that god’s respective element. For this to happen, the mortal’s personality must strongly resonate with the attributes of said god. While a person may wield multiple magical affinities, this is quite uncommon. No one in recorded history has wielded more than two affinities at a time, though it is theoretically possible to wield more. Even rarer is an angel or a demon wielding a magical affinity, as most have sworn complete loyalty to their gods.

Other Magic-While other magic exists, it is typically forbidden as it taps into the powers of demons, angels, and the gods of life and death. Angels and Demons inherently have their own magic, and through contracts with mortals, gift the use of it to them. Angels and Demons typically have more unique magic, though each has its own inherent magic. Angels inherently have healing and dispelling magic, while Demons inherently have shapeshifting and curse magic.

Nations

Monschau-Ruled by 3 royal houses, all responsible to the constitution created by the founders, and the wind god. The land is relatively peaceful. Hunting and farming happen across the land but stop for the 4 yearly festivals. The three royal houses take care of individual aspects of the land. House Aiger is in charge of civic law, House Eisner is in charge of military affairs, and House Lorraine is in charge of Foreign Policy. The Church of the Lütolf serves as its own entity, separate from the three ruling houses, but assists in the organization of festivals, as well as other aspects of culture. Each of the four-yearly festivals takes place in its season, with its respective festivities. During the spring, Karneval takes place as a way to celebrate the end of winter. During the summer, Weinfest is a chance for the people of Monschau to experience the finest wines of the region, almost always at a lower cost than normal. During the fall is the celebration of liberty, where people will celebrate the founding of Monschau with food, beer, and festivities. During the winter is Neujahr, a celebration of the past year, and the one to come. Gifts are exchanged, as well as food. Family gatherings are extremely common this time of year.

Dunzhau-Ruled by the merchant’s guild. The earth god descends from his mountain palace every new moon to advise the people. The land is dutifully tilled, and its harbors are kept busy. Trade and business are part of every city, each vying to become the seat of the merchant’s guild. The merchant’s guild creates the laws of trade, as well as manages all mints for the global currency, Lev. It also governs the entirety of Dunzhau. It has recently shown interest in purchasing land from Lestrait to expand its influence and seize control over some natural resources.

Foaxia-A military nation ruled directly by its god. Generals serve to deliver justice but are forced to fight for their position yearly. The land is harsh, and inhospitable in any area not close to an oasis. Strength is the goal of this nation, to the point where it mostly ignores foreign treaties and affairs. Often, the 4 generals of Foaxia will lend their armies as mercenaries to keep the army in fighting condition.

Lestrait-Land once a part of Monschau is now separated by a chasm due to the war of the gods. While it was once a part of Monschau, the culture has developed differently. They are ruled by a single monarch. This nation only celebrates 2 yearly festivals, Nouvel An, which is quite similar to Monschau’s Neujahr, and the Festival of Lights. The Festival of Lights takes place mid-summer and consists of several days of lighting the city. Lanterns, fireworks, and sometimes, even lightning from their god. Their monarch is said to descend from the god himself, though there is no way to prove this.

Caronia-Bordered by the deserts of Foaxia. The land becomes lusher the further in one travel. Ruled peaceably by the goddess herself, the upper class dedicate themselves to learning while the lower class performs the duties required to keep the nation running. Every year, a large council is held, where all major problems are resolved under the watch of the goddess.

Honkeidou and Okumura-Once an island nation ruled by the sister goddesses, now two separate nations after the two fell out of favor with each other. Honkeidou is open to travel and has been so since it was founded. Okumura is surrounded by ice and is quite hard to get into. While foreigners are not officially banned, it can be quite hard to do anything in the nation without help from a well-trusted local. The two island nations’ closest neighbor is Dunzhau. Honkeidou is governed by a republic, while Okumura is governed by a shogunate.

Important Groups/Factions

Church of Lütolf
While there are other organizations dedicated to the worship of gods, none are as important to its home nation and the Church of Lütolf. The Church funds schools, orphanages, and other charitable foundations.

Lux vitae-Founded by a doctor who once sought to bring everlasting life to all. Now corrupted, the group seeks to eliminate the 7 elemental gods, as well as those in association with Strakh. By far the largest organization created to serve Vechna

Rules

Be respectful
No one-liners. 3-4 Sentances minimum
Don't kill off other people's characters without permission

[DeltaSource]

"Rudol"
For the first time, Rudol is in the city cathedral, though, he isn't too keen to be seen, leaning against the balcony overseeing the main floor. He didn't come to pay attention, rather, he came for the silence. While nuns clean the floors, Friedrich comes up behind Rudol and puts his hand on his shoulder.
"Odd seeing you here Rudol. What was it you said? 'The gods have done nothing for me, why should I worship them?' Was that it?"
"That's what I said, and I haven't changed my mind. I'm here because it's quiet."
"Ah, I see. Well, since you're here, there's something important I've been meaning to ask you."
"Which is?"
Friedrich rests one hand on his sword, but not too obviously. "I've heard a rumor that a demon has been lurking around the business of House Eisner. I was wondering if you knew anything about it, being close to our family and all."
Rudol keeps his composure, but begins to panic slightly internally "No, I don't know of any demons in House Eisner."
"Very well, it could all be a false rumor, spread to make us paranoid, but still, it it my duty to check up on such things."
"Of course."
Friedrich begins to walk away before stopping
"One more thing Rudol."
"Yes?"
"You should consider that the gods may have arranged for your life to be as fortunate as it is. Perhaps it was Lütolf that guided my brother to find you wounded in the fields."
Rudol doesn't respond. It was never the gods. The gods don't care for a demon.
Rudol waits for Friedrich to be out of sight before he himself leaves, unwilling to stay in the cathedral any longer. He walks through the streets of the capital, Magdeburg. He is supposed to report to his fellow demons soon, of Monschau's people, their defenses, and weaknesses, but he struggles to find it in himself to betray the people who care for him. In less than a week, he must come to choose a side.

[Asardia]

It's so boring here

Khamael stares into the sky, or rather, whatever the Aether's equivalent of the sky was. This was the place where he, alongside many of Vechna's supporters, were banished. While it's nowhere near as bad as the Abyss, it still isn't where Khamael wanted to be. Vechna is the personification of life. Being a Goddess of Life inherently implies being a Goddess of Freedom. Unfortunately, Vechna, despite still technically being the Godess of Life, no longer has the position she once did. And Khamael, being Vechna's top angel, has a similar problem. Without Vechna, he is nothing. Without Vechna to guide him, he is aimless.

Khamael recently finished a mundane task which Vechna assigned him a few days earlier. His mission was to guide souls back to the living world, and to ensure the safe passage of the recently deceased. Khamael was always obliged to follow Vechna. And being an angel to the Goddess of Life, Khamael held the right to life in high regard. However, that still doesn't change the fact that they were powerless. The world needed Vechna, yet she was banished to a separate realm to oversee the other realms. The reincarnation and creation of life is the most important thing one can oversee. Yet, they were relegated to being simple supervisors; as if their work was not essential to the stability of all life. Khamael still bore a grudge against the Creator. Khamael never forgave him, and Khamael will never forget.

It's about time I guide the next batch of souls

[Kaledoria]

Marten

A new day begins on the road in Monschau. It was a rather pleasant night for one, that Marten had to spend in the wagon. As he puts on the final pieces of his armor (a fellow traveler already helped with the shoulders, which was the hardest part to do on ones own) he hears noise from the outside. He rushes to see what's going on and finds the rest of the group between the wagons. A moment later he sees the person who shouted at them and hears what he is saying now: "Don't make this harder for you then it has to be. We're not taking anything that you need to reach the next city, just what you have spare. It's better that way for you, then if we take it from your corpses."
Marten looks around the corner of the wagon. The highwaymen are just a small group - obviously, as the caravan is traveling through a rather provincial area, the road probably did not supply a larger robber band. Five of them against a caravan of eleven people, but the robbers are armed with crossbows and swords, wear gambesons and the apparent leader a brigantine armor. Most of Marten's fellow travelers are unarmed except for some staffs and spears. Well, Marten is not. He wears his impressive plate armor and longsword. He steps forward and addresses the Robbers: "No, you better leave, before I get angry." It is not the best of one-liners but has to do, as far as intimidation goes.

Then, suddenly, one of the Highwaymen raises his crossbow a bit to abrupt. Out of reflex, Marten's elbows go to the torso, the head twitches left and the right hand goes up to further protect the facial opening, that an excellent sharpshooter could target. In the same moment, the Robber shoots. But he is not a sharpshooter. The bolt hits the breastplate at the center, at the thickest part and bounces of effortlessly. Marten raises his sword, and with the left grabs it by the blade. He then charges forward, using blade and arms to cover the weak spots of his armor. It's not necessary, he is not shot at again, nor do the Robbers draw steel, they just run away. After all, Marten's intimidation seemed to have worked.

They break camp and continue. In the evening, Marten parts ways with the caravan. It was around here, near the Godswar canyon, that people had heard of a shooting star that created a huge crater a few weeks ago. Marten is well educated. He does not think, that just because a meteor falls somewhere, some god had to throw it there intentionally. The warrior-smith does not know, which god originally launched it - or at what target, but often times, these divine projectiles miss and fly around for ages only to come down randomly somewhere unpredictable. ... And sometimes they contain valuable metals, that, in the correct alloying, can give steel new and exiting properties.

He had hasted to get here but apparently the news of the meteorite had not taken the same haste to reach Marten's hometown before. As he finds the crater in the last light of the day, he notices that the edges already show some first blades of grass breaking out. Now, he is no farmer, but it looks like the event was at least two month ago. And consequently, someone else had already taken the meteoroid away.

Tired but not discouraged, Marten arrives in the nearby village, just a few hundred people living around a tavern that doubles as an inn for the occasional traveler. He pays for a bed for the night and plans, that the next morning he will proceed to ask around for information.

[Antibox]

Jadiel

The beauty here is astounding....

The thick forests of Monschau were an amazing sight for Jadiel, herself Foaxian, she was accustomed to a rather desolate landscape. Not that she'd never seen a forest before in her many years of travels, infact she adored them, but the sheer scale of it all was almost overwhelming.....so much life.

Her ears took in all the sounds of her surroundings: leaves rustling in the wind, birds singing, various animals scurrying about. This definitely deserved a picture! Jadiel quickly reached into the small bag she carried on her back to retrieve a little book, she used this booklet to draw sketches of things of any sort that particularly piqued her interest.

Hmm....who gets a page?

Her pace slowed to a creep as she scanned the scenery for that thing that would earn a spot on one of her pages..... suddenly screams cut through the ambient noise of the forest and Jadiel tilted her head to the side, moving her long black hair from around one of her ears....honing in on the location.

It took only a moment for her sharply trained senses to pinpoint the direction, and just as quickly she turned and took off in a full sprint to investigate. As much as she enjoyed the quiet studying of her surroundings, the suggestion of some action was even more alluring.

As she sped closer to the noise she could see a clearing, and noticed a man armed with a bow..perhaps a hunter, who was being attacked by a rather large bear. It seemed that the bear had gotten in a good swipe at the hunter, he was bleeding profusely from his stomach, and for the Bear it had been struck a few times by some quite poorly aimed arrows.

Keeping her pace, Jadiel lunged straight for the large beast with no hesitation, reaching out with one of her clawed gauntlets swiftly gouging the bear's snout. The animal roared in pain and anger, and attempted to return the favor by lifting is heavy paws to swipe at her head. But the nimble Jadiel easily dodged the attack, and countered with a second blow with her gaulets...this time across the throat. The bear flailed wildly for a few moments than slowly ceased to move...only grumbling a bit as it lied on the ground.

"That was boring, thought it'd put up more than that", Jadiel said turning to look at the hunter who sat up against a tree clutching his midsection.

"Th-thank you for saving me...p-please help me, as you can see I'm injured quite badly. Take me to a doctor, please... there's one in my village a short way from here...."

Jadiel couldn't help but to chuckle, " Oh, you thought I came here for you.... don't flatter yourself. I only came here because I was bored. This bear seemed like it could've been fun...but I was mistaken apparently. You, sorry to say are already dead."

The Hunter looked at her nervously, "M-ma'am please, I kindly ask you to take me to my village....nothing more. It'll be a short carry... I can even p-p...."

"Let me guess..."you can pay me"... unfortunately for you, I don't really give two shits about money. Also carrying you would be annoying....no thanks. Though, I can offer you one thing, a painless and peaceful death.", Jadiel slowly walked towards the man and kneeled down.... blowing a wispy black dust in his face.

"Ma'am p-please just......just...."

"Shh close your eyes...shh, just let Death embrace you don't fear him, give yourself into his waiting arms."

Taking her booklet back out, she began to sketch " Thank you, you're so beautiful....I have a place for you on this page"

[Hochster Stern der Morgenrote]

Erica Louisa Eisner
Great Forest of Monschau

Erica elegantly took another sip from her teacup, leafing through her favorite book, leaves already turning yellow with age. Sunlight was sparsely streaming through the wide window of what was once the Eisner family's country house, bathing the walnut table, creating beautiful shades of gold on the furniture.

“Countess Khurtina creeps through the halls of her castle's dungeon, her crimes, her sins, they will all be exacted tonight by the grim reaper's rusty blade, her victims, buried alive beneath the foundation of this accursed and unholy place, cry out for revenge, slow, bloody, cruel revenge.”

Erica gently slides her delicate fingers, covered in a spotlessly white silk glove, across the paper on the last page. She then gently puts the book under the table, drinks the last tea out of the cup, and gets up towards the stairs.
Step by step, his boots echoing on the oak floor, creaking now and then where the boards were slack, she proceeded to the front garden of the house.

Outside, you could have a good view of the manor. The house, situated inside the Great Forest of Monschau, wasn't huge like the houses in the capital, but it wasn't small either. The walls in copper and blue tones, the comfortable furniture without losing its sophistication, the beautiful garden with a myriad of butterflies, fruits, and exotic flowers, everything pleased Erica's particular tastes, but what she appreciated most was that the manor of two floors was considerably far from everyone, and far from the thoughts that circled her like black clouds over the raging sea.
The emerald lawn of the garden contrasted with the majesty of the surrounding trees, which surrounded the house almost like a wall. The small lake that adorned the place had its waters stirred by a light breeze that blew gently, shaking Erica's beautiful purple dress, and carrying a pungent, nauseating smell, which Erica had long been addicted to, the smell of death.

Grabbing her rapier, she then runs, shedding bits of grass from the ground. With her incredible speed, she proceeds, swift as the Divine Jackal, dodging trees on the way, gliding gracefully over the Sleepy River with ice beneath her feet. Following the heady aroma with her heightened senses, she soon finds the source.

"Death claims his soul but the soil of his death binds him with its chains" Said Dergameth, after months of sleep.

The said source was a middle-aged man, his bow and quiver betraying him as a hunter. Floating above him, sticking out of his forehead, was the black torso of a skeleton held to the ground by red-hot iron chains. The skeleton whined and scratched, trying in vain to free itself from its shackles.

“Cursed be, may she be ten thousand times cursed” he screamed the spirit, alternating between high and guttural tones.

"His corruption spreads across the land, in a short time it will reach my garden." Said Leonora, staring at the miasma coming out of her body with a frivolous look.

“Then cut off the remaining wills of his soul and he will be set free, as he always has been.” Dergameth stated in a dismissive tone.

Erica rolled her eyes at Dergameth's words, she then pointed the tip of her sword, now covered in a light shadow that rippled like fire, at the fiery chain that held the prisoner. With grace she drew a line in the air, charged with authority over death, that power soon began to disintegrate the black chains, link by link. The heavy darkness impregnated in the ethereal bones soon began to evaporate, leaving behind only a pure soul, such torment washed away sins from her, the soul, now white as snow, shed a tear as she remembered her family.

“Stephan, Marta, forgive me, please.” Said the soul as it dissipated towards the afterlife.

"The miasma won't spread any further, let's go, I need to make more tea."

"Aren't you going to investigate the body?"

"Hm, I forgot, well let's do this quick." Said Erica with a bored face.

The body in question appeared to have been there for at least three hours, long enough for the ants to start their work.

“This man's face is purple, this black powder sticking to the skin looks like poison, Night Essence maybe. This wound in the abdomen does not seem to have killed him, otherwise using such an expensive poison would be a foolish waste.” Erica noticed, crouching beside the body.

“Look, that bear, those wounds, most assuredly, were not caused by arrows.” Said Dergameth.

"Well, whoever or what did this is long gone, and it's certainly none of my interest, but as I promised my father I wouldn't neglect my duties any longer, I'm going to get a sample of the poison, just in case, and we'll be off." Erica said while rubbing a handkerchief on the hunter's face.

Dergameth can't help but chuckle "Come on then, maybe it's not too late for tea yet."

In a blink then they disappeared into the woods, uninterested in mortal interests and anything that doesn't come too close to bother them.

[Audunia]

The tent's walls shook gently in the mild wind, the sun making it's blue walls seem iridescent with every subtle move. Molos found it beautiful, a necessity considering it stuck out like a sore thumb with the burnt village sitting within eye view. The village was Apaea, an unremarkable little place that had spent its existence in a lazy haze, its inhabitants going about their duties largerly uniterrupted by the outside world. And then the mecenaries and bandits came, burned it down and took whatever wasn't bolted or burnt, leaving them in quite the pitiful state. The state which Molos had found them in as he followed the wake of the horde, quickly setting to helping where he could. The first day was always the worst one, finding those far beyond the realm of helping and, with the permission of surviving relatives, granting them peace from their suffering.

The following days were still difficult, a village full of the injured awaiting treatment quickly burned through his supplies and tested the limits of his healing magic, in addition to that of Ophelia's, leaving them increasingly worn out. He often said she wielded the endurance of Foraii with how she continued to work in this state, while she'd retort his bandaging was as unpredictable of Perun. But now, they were in the easier stages of treatment, having been here for a few weeks, many villagers were up and moving again, repairing their destroyed home and beginning the stages of recovery. They still required help, particularly at night, Molos would often be woken to soothe those caught the midst of Starkh's Visions, torturous dreams that haunted them with exagerrated horror of their experiences. These had become rarer, thankfully, and would continue to do so with time. It had become quiet enough that Molos had deemed both Ophelia's and his presence unnecessary and taken leave to refill their herbal stocks from the local woodlands.

Now, he had returned with his bag heavier and the sun shining brightly, dare he say he felt somewhat happy about the coming fortunes. He entered the tent, casting his eyes about to find a number of the beds were empty, a good sign, he thought.

"You're back" Ophelia said, looking up from one of those medical texts she enjoyed perusing through. Her brown hair was tied back, no doubt she'd just been treating a villager since it was only ever that way when she was busy, while her blue inquisitive eyes seemed to be holding back a question that had to be asked at the right moment.

"I am" Molos replied, placing his bag down by the medicine table. Normally, he'd get to work seperating them and preparing long-lasting cures, but the look in Ophelia's eyes seemed to take priority "Is there a question you'd like to ask?"

"Thought you'd never ask" she said quickly, placing the book down and moving swiftly towards a bunk at the end of the tent, Molos followed wordlessly behind. It was generally better not to ask what she was doing when she'd show you anyway. It's occupant was drenched in sweat, his skin pallid and his straw coloured hair seemed to be thinning unnaturally early. "You make Oktar a healing salve before you left, didn't you?" Molos nodded, his brows furrowing in confusion "Applied how often?"

"Daily" Molos replied "It was reinforced by the Sign of Licurgis, otherwise it would've had to be hourly"

"Then why" she asked, kneeling down and lifting the covers gently by Oktar's abdomen "Is this wound festering?"

Molos's head titled as he knelt down. The putrid smell forced its way into his nose, its stench reminding him of an unholy mixture of both rotten eggs and deomposing flesh, the centre of it had turned a sickly yellow, while the fleshy exterior had darkened unpleasantly. If left alone, he wouldn't be surprised if it started to crumble away. The veins around the wound also stood out starkly against the pallid white skin, the dark blue lines looking like outreaching roots hoping to spread its sickness.

He'd never seen something like this before, the salve under the Sign of Licurgis was fast acting and often scoured any infection from the wound and knitted it back together. But this? It seemed to be resisting any attempt at healing it, magical or otherwise. He took the small tin that rested on the bunk's bedside table, opening it and finding the green salve to indeed be low, finger marks of weakening strength criss-crossing it showing where it had been taken. Perhaps there was something wrong with it, so he gave it a quick sniff, the friendly smell of mint momentarily relieved his nose of the wound's smell. Though pleasant, it did show that this was not the reason for the salve's failure.

He rose to his feet, his teeth grinding as his mind racked what might be the issue. He looked at Ophelia, who seemed to also be deep in thought while looking at the pitiful form of Oktar shiverring in his bed.

"That book you were reading, what was it?" he asked. Ophelia looked up, somewhat shocked out of her thoughts.

"Demistoles Study on Soul Scourges" she answered. Molos frowned, that could certainly hold the answer but soul scourges were incredibly difficult to cure, not to mention painful, but that wasn't what confounded him the most. No other patient seemed to exhibit signs of a similar disease, nor had any others that had suffered from the same army that had rampaged through. Only really one possible answer, and he was not overly fond over that possibility. "You'd best speak before you crack your teeth" Ophelia said quietly, Molos not even realising how tightly he had been clenching his teeth.

"Are you thinking he's possessed?" he asked, his jaw feeling somewhat odd now that the pressure was relieved.

Ophelia shook her head "Formerly possessed" she answered gravely "Wound if being tainted by whatever essence remains behind"

Molos nodded, his own suspicions confirmed "What do we have in stores for such a thing?"

"Water of Lütolf, thrice admired, but no cold iron of any kind, nor blessed surtures" she answered, looking at him "I imagine you'll be departing again"

Molos nodded, turning quickly and moving to the table. He worked quickly, emptying the contents of his bag and beginning the creation of another healing salve. His hands worked by rote as his mind wandered elsewhere. Finding cold iron was difficult, but shaping them into needles for use in surgery required a very skilled blacksmith, one that was not close to Apaea, while blessed surtures required a very high up authority in one of the churches to one of the gods, even then that was difficult as not every priest of the churches believed the surtures to actually have any benefit. He'd spent a number of occasions in a locked room ove arguments with such priests.

Ophelia equally remained in silence, which Molos didn't mind. When they'd first met, he'd attempted to kill her, so the fact they were able to stay in the same room in silence and not feel uncomfortable was certainly an improvement. He also reckoned her mind was also running through the similar things as well. Eventually, the salve was done, reinforced by both the Sign of Licurgis, but he added a small sprinkling of Angou, he found it worked well in slowing the spread of infections. He made a quick prayer to Basamum that it would work similarly for soul scourges.

He rose from his seat, the table messier than he would have liked but there wasn't enough time, hopefully Ophelia didn't mind the extra work. He handed her the salve, to be applied just before the patient fell asleep.

"You'll be going away, then" Ophelia said, as she set the tin down.

"Monschau" he nodded, pulling the bag up, inspecting what was left of his rations and what needed to be restocked.

"Monschau? I thought you called that place a cesspool of mismanaged royalty and ineffective metallurgists. Something about them taking so long to make a usuable tool that the Creator was more likely to let Vechna and Strakh return first" she chided him, her lips curling at the memory.

"I still think that" he said bluntly, refilling his water tankard "But I've heard that a smith has set up shop there, one that Foraii granted an affinty for. I imagine he would be capable of both crafting cold iron, but also an acceptable needle from it" he placed a number of pouches of Lev into his bag. Monschau was also closer, and seeing as he lacked the time to travel further afield for someone more competant, Monschau would have to do. His hand hovered over the handle of his sword, hesitant to actually pick it up.

"You'll be fine" Ophelia said, stepping close to him, her hand resting on his shoulder "Just pay attention to your charm, and you won't be taken". Molos found his will return to him, grasping the leather-wrapped handle firmely, strapping it to the thick belt that wrapped around his waist. He went to move the tent, pausing a moment. He looked back at Ophelia.

"Take care, restrain Oktar is his reaction to the salve becomes violent, won't you?"

"Of course" she answered.

[DeltaSource]

Mitsuo
Stuck, he couldn't muster the strength to move. His father's blade, a work of art he had once seen so proudly displayed now lies within his own body, stained not just with his own blood, but with his father's as well. So this was his fate, to drift until death. Admittedly, he's lasted a lot longer than he believed possible. Perhaps the cold would claim him after all. He closes his eyes, though his mind affords him no rest, being haunted by the picture of his home in ruins, the corpses of his family haunt him. What was so secretive about the Shogun, what needed to be kept hidden to the point of death? Mitsuo sighs, accepting that he'll never know. The cold wind blows across his body, as his breathing begins to slow and become irregular.

[Asardia]

Yet another soul calls

Khamael began his ascension from the Aether to the mortal world. He could spend his times away from the Aether if it meant dealing with dead or dying mortals. Luckily, he mainly dealt with kind souls. Over the millenniums, Khamael has seen dubious people ascend to the Aether, but seeing as Vechna approved every transaction, he never once judged.

The Aether was the most beautiful place Khamael had seen. The sun burned brighter, the grass was greener, and the water clearer than the mortal realms. Whenever a gust of wind blew, Khamael felt as if he had received a massage from Vechna. When it rained, he felt cleaned. At ease. The Aether was easily the best place to be.

At least it makes the banishment easier to cope with. Especially...

In an instant, the vibrant and divine realm of the Aether was replaced by the dullness of the human world. Fundamentally, nothing changed. The weather and atmosphere was the same. But the Aether gave Khamael relief, while Galria gave him a sense of disgust. Khamael was always happy to bring souls away from Galria and into the land of Vechna

His first task was to tend to a dying bladesmith from Okumura. A man named Yamazaki Mitsuo. Okumura wasn't exactly a place where Khamael was excited to go. Then again, anything outside the Aether wasn't exciting.

The seas that surrounded Okumura were surprisingly calm this night. Not that it mattered to a being who could fly. Regardless, it meant that the dying man didn't have to suffer more than he has.

Khamael allowed himself to be visible to Mitsuo. He had giant wings which crossed each other like an X. Each of Khamael's four wings were at least twice as large as his actual body. The feathers shined a vibrant light gray. Not quite gold, but not fully white either. Gray couldn't describe it, as the wings shined brightly. Khamael began to lower himself so that he was in full view of Mitsuo. His golden eyes staring deep into Mitsuo's soul, waiting for the time of death to come.

Soon, you'll be in peace. In paradise

[DeltaSource]

Yet another soul calls

Khamael began his ascension from the Aether to the mortal world. He could spend his time away from the Aether if it meant dealing with dead or dying mortals. Luckily, he mainly dealt with kind souls. Over the millenniums, Khamael has seen dubious people ascend to the Aether, but seeing as Vechna approved every transaction, he never once judged.

The Aether was the most beautiful place Khamael had seen. The sun burned brighter, the grass was greener, and the water clearer than the mortal realms. Whenever a gust of wind blew, Khamael felt as if he had received a message from Vechna. When it rained, he felt clean. At ease. The Aether was easily the best place to be.

At least it makes the banishment easier to cope with. Especially...

In an instant, the vibrant and divine realm of the Aether was replaced by the dullness of the human world. Fundamentally, nothing changed. The weather and atmosphere were the same. But the Aether gave Khamael relief, while Galria gave him a sense of disgust. Khamael was always happy to bring souls away from Galria and into the land of Vechna

His first task was to tend to a dying bladesmith from Okumura. A man named Yamazaki Mitsuo. Okumura wasn't exactly a place where Khamael was excited to go. Then again, anything outside the Aether wasn't exciting.

The seas that surrounded Okumura were surprisingly calm this night. Not that it mattered to a being who could fly. Regardless, it meant that the dying man didn't have to suffer more than he has.

Khamael allowed himself to be visible to Mitsuo. He had giant wings which crossed each other like an X. Each of Khamael's four wings was at least twice as large as his actual body. The feathers shined a vibrant light gray. Not quite gold, but not fully white either. Gray couldn't describe it, as the wings shined brightly. Khamael began to lower himself so that he was in full view of Mitsuo. His golden eyes stared deep into Mitsuo's soul, waiting for the time of death to come.

Soon, you'll be in peace. In paradise

Mitsuo is forced to squint due to the vibrant light of Khamael. He musters his strength in order to speak "Is.....this it? Was it....cold.....or blood loss?"
Time seems to stop around Mitsuo. He can no longer feel the cold, his pain ceases. He hears a voice, though not from the angel, a feminine voice.
"Child, you have been wronged. Your life has been abruptly cut without cause. My servant, Khamael, he will guide you, and help you bring peace to this world."
Mitsuo stays silent. He had never been overly religious, but he knew that voice could only be one diety, Vechna. What does the goddess of life want with a bladesmith like him?

[Asardia]

Yet another soul calls

Khamael began his ascension from the Aether to the mortal world. He could spend his time away from the Aether if it meant dealing with dead or dying mortals. Luckily, he mainly dealt with kind souls. Over the millenniums, Khamael has seen dubious people ascend to the Aether, but seeing as Vechna approved every transaction, he never once judged.

The Aether was the most beautiful place Khamael had seen. The sun burned brighter, the grass was greener, and the water clearer than the mortal realms. Whenever a gust of wind blew, Khamael felt as if he had received a message from Vechna. When it rained, he felt clean. At ease. The Aether was easily the best place to be.

At least it makes the banishment easier to cope with. Especially...

In an instant, the vibrant and divine realm of the Aether was replaced by the dullness of the human world. Fundamentally, nothing changed. The weather and atmosphere were the same. But the Aether gave Khamael relief, while Galria gave him a sense of disgust. Khamael was always happy to bring souls away from Galria and into the land of Vechna

His first task was to tend to a dying bladesmith from Okumura. A man named Yamazaki Mitsuo. Okumura wasn't exactly a place where Khamael was excited to go. Then again, anything outside the Aether wasn't exciting.

The seas that surrounded Okumura were surprisingly calm this night. Not that it mattered to a being who could fly. Regardless, it meant that the dying man didn't have to suffer more than he has.

Khamael allowed himself to be visible to Mitsuo. He had giant wings which crossed each other like an X. Each of Khamael's four wings was at least twice as large as his actual body. The feathers shined a vibrant light gray. Not quite gold, but not fully white either. Gray couldn't describe it, as the wings shined brightly. Khamael began to lower himself so that he was in full view of Mitsuo. His golden eyes stared deep into Mitsuo's soul, waiting for the time of death to come.

Soon, you'll be in peace. In paradise

Mitsuo is forced to squint due to the vibrant light of Khamael. He musters his strength in order to speak "Is.....this it? Was it....cold.....or blood loss?"
Time seems to stop around Mitsuo. He can no longer feel the cold, his pain ceases. He hears a voice, though not from the angel, a feminine voice.
"Child, you have been wronged. Your life has been abruptly cut without cause. My servant, Khamael, he will guide you, and help you bring peace to this world."
Mitsuo stays silent. He had never been overly religious, but he knew that voice could only be one diety, Vechna. What does the goddess of life want with a bladesmith like him?

Khamael blinked. Vechna rarely intervenes in matters such as these. However, the man hasn't died, so no natural laws were violated. Either way, there was only one thing for Khamael to do.

For the first time, Khamael spoke to Mitsuo. "I am Khamael. One of the Seven Heralds of Wrath. I serve the Goddess of Life, Vechna."

Khamael lowers himself and reaches out to Mitsuo. "Take my hand, and we will go to the Aether. Vechna will imbue you with the energy required to continue living."

While speaking to Mitsuo, Khamael also felt the presence of two other souls who needed to be guided to the Aether. I'll deal with them after Vechna receives Mitsuo

[DeltaSource]

Mitsuo is forced to squint due to the vibrant light of Khamael. He musters his strength in order to speak "Is.....this it? Was it....cold.....or blood loss?"
Time seems to stop around Mitsuo. He can no longer feel the cold, his pain ceases. He hears a voice, though not from the angel, a feminine voice.
"Child, you have been wronged. Your life has been abruptly cut without cause. My servant, Khamael, he will guide you, and help you bring peace to this world."
Mitsuo stays silent. He had never been overly religious, but he knew that voice could only be one diety, Vechna. What does the goddess of life want with a bladesmith like him?

Khamael blinked. Vechna rarely intervenes in matters such as these. However, the man hasn't died, so no natural laws were violated. Either way, there was only one thing for Khamael to do.

For the first time, Khamael spoke to Mitsuo. "I am Khamael. One of the Seven Heralds of Wrath. I serve the Goddess of Life, Vechna."

Khamael lowers himself and reaches out to Mitsuo. "Take my hand, and we will go to the Aether. Vechna will imbue you with the energy required to continue living."

While speaking to Mitsuo, Khamael also felt the presence of two other souls who needed to be guided to the Aether. I'll deal with them after Vechna receives Mitsuo

Mitsuo can feel his strength slowly returning to him. Pulling out the sword that has him pinned to the boat, he accepts Khamael's offer with his free hand. His grip is weak, and his hand is cold. Had Vechna not intervened, he would have been dead already. Still, it's a miracle he survived this long anyways.

The sky of Galria is slowly replaced with that of the Ether. His strength returns all the more swiftly with the change in location. That's when he sees her, the goddess. He finds it hard to describe her as anything but beautiful. She sits gracefully on her throne, its white color blinding. Her hair flowing as if she was under water. Mitsuo is left speechless and in awe. As he kneels, Vechna rises, and slowly descends from her throne. She gently places her hand on his head. A golden-white energy dispereses from her hand, surrounding Mitsuo. His wounds heal, and his hair and clothes turn white.
"Your sword." Vechna holds her hand out, waiting.
Mitsuo looks at his father's blade, what is left of his past life. Reluctantly, he allows Vechna to take it. Running her hand across its blade, it glows, but her hand is unscathed. Sheathing the blade, she hands it back.

[Asardia]

Following the transition to the Aether, Khamael simply bowed and said, "I'll return with two other souls, my Goddess".

In an instant, the world around Khamael transforms yet again. Back in the mortal realm, he ventures to Monschau. Within seconds, he arrived at his destination. The name of the person was not yet known to Khamael. He would find that out soon.

Khamael reveals himself as he's ready to take the man's soul to the Aether. However, in doing so, he reveals himself to Jadiel . Not that it matters anyway, the angel thought. My presence won't mean much

[DeltaSource]

News reaches Magdeburg, soldiers from Lestrait had attacked several small towns and villages near the border. While the king of Lestrait denies sending his men to assault the villages, House Eisner is not convinced, though House Lorraine and House Aiger keep them in check, willing to seek peaceful means of settling the conflict.

In Magdeburg itself, Rudol hears the news. He knows what this means. While it may seem entirely politically motivated, that couldn't be further from the truth. The demon armies are getting impatient, he'll be asked to give a report sooner than he'd like.

Vechna speaks "Your name, Mitsuo. It means light. Now be the light amongst Galria for me. Shine brightly, and punish those that would violate the sanctity of life."
Mitsuo finds the courage to speak "As you will, my goddess."
"Go to Monshau, a number of demons have been assembling there and Lestrait in high places."

He is transported back to Galria, though not in a location he is familiar with. Realizing the Goddess directly put him somewhere in Monshau, he decides it is best to find someone familiar with the land before he continues.