Hubris. 2
There was a requiem. A mass uprising amongst the mortal populace of their realm. Foulness
had seeped through the cracks of heir plane and spawned. What they spawned were
pitiful, selfish things that came before them, scions of the old gods, things
of lament. The Lament. What could have been. What has passed. Those before time. Those of the Forgotten. Those who never came to be. They festered and grew; the people were swayed by these foul things
and worshipped them, as the Gods of the pantheon were lax, and bickered with
each other, sometimes forgetting about their devotees in favor of acts of
hubris and contempt. The Old gods broke through the thin fabric of this realm and
swept across the land like a sickness, a plague of deluded impossibilities and
forgotten dreams they were. They rose, coalesced into form, and did battle with
the Pantheon. They were misshapen things, only husks of what they once were- or
could have become- greedy things that whined, clammy hands clawing for their
former- or promised- glory. They corrupted the Pantheons gods, enslaved them and bound
them, broke their minds and chained them. Even the Proud Baroness of War became
nothing more then a whore impaling herself on the phallus of a mad god of lust
of old. Some of the Pantheon stood defiant against the Lamenting, but
their power waned as more and more of their worshippers fell to the Lament,
embracing the old ways over the Pantheon. Some fell in battle, some were
consumed, some became slaves, and some even gave themselves willingly, becoming
Heralds of the old ones. But there were a few who evaded the Lamenters. The Siblings
of Passion, Ci'e, Ki'e and Mi'e, the Carrier of Souls, Lord of Infinity, Lord
of Anger, Girl of Flowers, Lady of Chaos, Tantus of the Mighty, Lord of the
Sea, and Lady of Embers. These few were still revered by the small faction of
faithful who spoke of their love for them, and in return did the few remaining
of the pantheon protect them. They gave great boons to their followers. They
gifted them with weapons and armor of divine quality, as well as fighting at
their side as well. Tantus inspired his people, bestowing strength and turning
the foul forgotten back at every turn. His Starlight fists smashed apart the
hands of despair, and tore victory from the arms of defeat. The Ascendant Champion
drove back the nightmares as he had done before long ago on a bridge to a
forsaken town against an army that sought it to be burned, but no longer did he
stand-alone.
The Great Sea King summoned mighty storms to sweep away the armies of their
enemy, drowning the hated foe, and breaking ships apart with but a will,
sundering entire armadas before they released their baneful cargo. The Lord of Anger was unleashed upon the Lament. A storm born
of a tyrant's red rule, he was a visage emblazoned on eternal hate, the ruby
red king of unending carnage wasted no time in ending the lives of thousands
upon millions. His infernal visage scarred the very earth itself. The Child of Fire-core of malice. The Lady of Embers. She was
unbound; the saintly golden cloth unraveled from her eyes, her tapping's removed.
She became what she had always been; she became War, The Core of Malice. She
bore upon her foes with the spite of eons, Forgotten gods ceased to be as they
were incinerated with the heat of a thousand dying stars, fire licked from her
ever-wounds, her shell peeled away to reveal the avatar of destruction that had
hidden inside her so long ago, now freed from it's prison, it cared not of what
it burned, so long as it burned. The Siblings of Passion each did their part, Ki'e slipped
through the shadows of shadows, unceasing in his games of torment, stealing and
scheming, sundering the Lamenting from within. Mi'e cured the sick, healed the
wounded, and wept for the fallen. She would take no part in fighting, as it was
not her way. Ci'e descended to the earth like a falling star, great towers
rose at her command, and unyielding burning stone golem armies assembled before
her. She mustered the strength of her people where it was the weakest, and saw
to it that it became a point of un-breaking steel before she carried on to the
next beleaguered siege. The earth crushed flat before her majesty. The Soul harvester was constant, forever did he exist, the second
eldest among them all, he bore no allegiance to the Pantheon Remnants, nor the
Lamenting ones. He would not yield to any, for he was his own. He plucked the
souls of innocent and forgotten, sinner and renown alike, no pity or remorse in
his task as he ferried them through the afterlife. The lady of Discord, the Lady of Chaos for once was silenced,
her mad cackling squelched by the impossibilities around her, impossibilities
that not even madness could comprehend, nor realize. So she set forth against
the Lamenters alongside her orderly kin. She wove spells of unreal complexity
yet of fay simplicity, fire storms of water, thunderbolts of earth, life giving
death, madness within, and madness without, she spoke the forbidden words and
summoned creatures unseen since the dawn of existence, great formless beings,
scions of the Eldest-Kin, the God vassals. She released their eldritch fury
upon the impossible; the god-machines walked once more, crushing nothing, and
at the same time everything beneath them. The Girl of Flowers was brought forth to the field of battle.
She was shown the sundering of all that was good, and killing of all that was fair,
the travesties that had been wrongly wrought. She wept. And where her tears
fell, great plants grew, plants watered by the tears of a Goddess. Righteous
and furious oaks with nettle-thorn branches, Spriggons with whips of hemlock,
and rose petal shields, Ents of great strength and compassion leapt forth from
the ground, determined to right the grievances of the world. The Lord of Infinity. The one that came before even the Soul
Carrier, Dru'n. Before life, before time, before the universe itself, there was
the Infinity Lord. The impossible Knight in impossible armor wielding a blade
of woes and shield of joy. Unspeaking and un-erring it sought only to protect
the Gates. The Gates that lead to Truth. The gates of answers, the gate that
would only open at the end times when the Knight would speak the words of
opening, and let through the ending few. Never would any pass before then. And
only then would the chosen pass. The impossible gate, no one knew what it lead
to, only that it was the 'Truth' behind it's walls. So they rallied around his
towering form, besieged by foes of so many faces, some familiar some not, they
sat in silence as the Knight Lord of Infinity banished the unclean with but a
wave of his hand, his knowledge as immortal as he. And so they held. The forces of what was and what could have
been balked at their walls, the Fallen Pantheon made little headway against
such stalwart defenders.A great wall was built between the Fallen Lands and the Remaining
Pantheon Defenders, right down the middle of the seen plane; the massive wall
of 30 miles high and 15 miles wide towered above all else. Cities built into
it, entire populations devoted to its defense and maintenance. Ci'e herself
resided within its metal hold. The war of the Lamenters drew to a tenuous close. The Land of
the Fallen began to rise, ancient empires and forgotten gods and gods that
could have been and now were rose and fought against each other, only the
strongest survived. The Angle King Arin'ell and his empire of purity shown
throughout the lands, the 100 miles high tower of shimmering radiance
illuminated both before and after dusk and dawn. The Travesties'' of Brenks, the empire of the Rat-kings was
formed once more, every man a king of fallen castles, tattered banners marched
as one throughout the land, nomad warrior kings, faithful Knights still
following even after the fall of their lord-and masters. The Shamrink domain rose again, lost to ancient history, the
mad god of lust and now his whore-queen of war, resplendent armor now stripped
of her, replaced with naught but her bare skin, her heavenly body enough to
drive the most stoic of men mad with desire. The mad Sex-fiend come God and his
empire of sin, a realm of eternal night and endless day, streets filled with
the moans and smacks of flesh against flesh, and endless orgy and sacrilege. The empires of many old and forgotten rose alongside empires
that could have been but never were, war still beat in the hearts and minds of
many, but another war did not come to pass. Fallen and risen empires had no
wish to confront a pantheon of gods and their followers all on their own, and
none were willing to work to rectify the dilemma.
Instead peace was sought out between the New Pantheon and
Fallen Lands. Representatives from the neighboring states and countries met atop
the great wall of Division. Smoldering looks were exchanged before the talks of
peace, and perhaps eventual prosperity would see the day through. Peace was
called for, and so they answered, a hand given, a hand exchanged, a white dove
to set aloft on ivory wings.Fate chose otherwise