Juju
PREY-FOR-US
Nraumm fell into silence as the war ended with many Gods taking advantage of it to kill their adversaries only to fall to each other, for no God was stronger than another and for the ones that remained, they all seemed to react differently.
With the serpent out of the picture and many of the Gods incapable or uncaring, Morois wasted no time to take action and came out of hiding. With her Minor Goddess Amais, then began sending the vampire race to integrate with other races, some even joining said communities. Next Morois created shrines and blessings for her followers, carefully placing the shrines all over Nraumm while also using her followers to spread the incentive for more people to become her followers, in this time bards would sing and dance to stories about Morois whether they were true or not further promoting her image. Though her afterlife was appealing to many, she still wanted a way for it to be known within the living and not only the recently deceased, as such she would have her followers write holy books with the main focus talking and explaining the afterlife which made even more join. However a Goddess could not look bad especially when her followers were growing and as such she would need to do the most tedious task, cleaning the messes of Koma, her own Minor Goddess of Pranks. Spending time fixing these messes Morois felt generous and began wiping the nightmares out of many children and even had his followers create a holiday in which youth and children would be celebrated. With her main goal at the moment completed she would return to her realm, occasionally leaving to create events for her dear followers or to clean up the messes of Koma. Morois would soon become the most Popular Goddess whether it be positive or not.
At the top of Nraumm the God of Death Kiru was simple, he hadn't participated in the war and the deaths of mortals was busy enough, he would occasionally create and watch over his creations, but he didn't bother doing much of anything else, his goals were simple and so were his actions, simple as death.
Dyne was one of the Gods who would also take advantage of the chaos and destruction that was brought by the war. She had grown tired of her original domains and capabilities and with the war concluding and the essence of Dozens of Gods laying around Dyne couldn't help herself but at the very least exchange for one. She would sacrifice her Agricultural domain for that of Drama. Dyne wasted no more time though as she slowly began abducting as many humans as possible all scattered across the world and sending them back to the human valley, closing off the exits by creating a massive mist around it and having her Fras her Minor God create a Barrier to ensure nothing would get in or out. With everything set up, Dyne would unleash hell upon the humans as she would begin causing wars amongst the humans trapped inside while also bringing back the dead to cause an apocalypse inside of her own playhouse all in her own amusement. It was not a good time to be human. Fras decided her duty was elsewhere and travelled towards the surviving Vez'Sinai to act as their protector, but found it difficult as many would travel all across Nraumm making the job all the more tedious. Nara, Dyne's other Minor Goddess, couldn't bear to watch what her Mother was doing to her own creations and decided to travel to The Library once owned and controlled by Pandora. Though when she entered, he vanished and no trace of her was left.
Yar, the God of madness, forgotten by many had laid locked away for a very long time, leaving many mortals and Gods alike unaffected, but it was only a matter of time before his return.
Detz the God of Uncertainty was nowhere to be seen or heard, it was as if his entire being had ceased. His Minor God Hruk the turtle noticed that his Father wasn't arriving to listen to his stories, he knew something was wrong, and so he searched, and searched, and is still searching, hoping to find his Father, for nothing brought him greater joy than to tell a new tale to his attentive father.
The individual that had ordered for the escort of the Ashborne and for Detz's prank went to the south of Nraumm and lied there, uncaring and uninterested about everything the individual simply lay down, letting time pass almost as if waiting for something.
Sana'a does not see the serpents farewell, nor does she see any other living thing for centuries. She hides away in shame and sorrow on her island, a once verdant paradise turned hellscape. The shadows that have consumed the island skitter outwards, reaching long, greedy fingers to claim large swaths of the surrounding lands and ocean.
She bleeds godly energy, refusing to fully absorb the dead remnants of her sister goddess, Shaldressyr, and grows terribly weak. In her absence the world's wounds fester and heal slowly. The Glassen Scar swells like a bruise, and a Garden of Bones blooms from the wounds left behind by a godly battleground. Life grows savage and hostile. Diseases ravage populations, famine claims cities, and in the deep wood monsters lurk.
Kanon had avoided the conflict to her own benefit, without much else to do, she decided to blend in with all types of societies, learning them and experiencing them for herself.
Viktor and his children would later return to their homeland, with the ashborne crippled and weak and gone, Viktor decided that he should leave his children and let them come up with their own destinies.
Xue cleared the corruption that remained from Tartarus and restored order in the depths. However, due to the war many races became skittish and had their first tastes of war. This was a spark of violence. Many races continued stocking for war, using much more resources than they once did. Fights broke out on the waters leaving much waste inside her land. People even began hunting her people for their scales and other resources. Xue wanted none of this chain in her waters. Even her children were beginning to become more hostile. Her waters became more fierce and hard to travel. Many harsh waves rocked boats. Most ships got engulfed by the sea and the people returned to the nearest shore. Races became more scared of the ocean. New races were made by her to defend her waters along with her own minor gods to help protect her ocean and spread her love around.
Khades had followed the remains of the Everspark deep beneath the ground until he found a large circular chamber where the Everspark lay in its centre. Dark tendrils grew forth and wrapped around the room, attempting to sow chaos into the rock and soil. For many years Khades sat in that room, severing any tendril of chaos that formed and pushing his very willpower against it. Even though it had been seperated from him, he could still feel it. He could feel the primary crystal far off as it waned. It, too, was in a battle of wills, and it was losing. One door to the Realm of Flame was sealing, though two still remained. If he could assert his mind over this Shard of the Everspark, he could control it, and some of his power would be restored.
Khades' Minor Gods fared little better. Teros had been captured by archmages and sealed within a mountain. Each hit against his tomb would be reflected back upon himself, so any attempt to escape by force was futile. Flame Matron Trynyrac watched her people develop, but she did not live with them. Rather, Trynyrac chose to remain nomadic even when the Ashborne stuck together in close-knit communities for safety. She would check in occasionally to dispense her wisdom or deliver justice where she sought fit. She taught them Khades' lessons, lessons of the dangers of overbearing law, lessons of embracing one's emotional and physical identity despite the pressures of others. History would not be kind to the Ashborne, but they would not need history to succeed and thrive among the oases of the wastes. Kezumar, they called it, and it would be the Ashborne's perfect home.
The Serpent had bid the world, its siblings, and its children, farewell. For the next eon, the new constellation would watch the world below, as the Serpent's very life drifted further, and further away. Wrapped in a cocoon of starlight, the Serpent's life ebbed, until one day, it seemed to drift from his body. Perhaps one day, he may return to life, but it would seem for now, the God of Creativity was gone.
In the world below, his children seemed painfully aware of this. Without their creator to watch over them, to keep them company, answer their questions and guide them, they were lost. Abandoning their destroyed homeland, the Vez'Sinai scattered to the wind, travelling to far, magical places, secret places, where they could hide. A deep, deep sorrow would settle over them as a people, and it seemed that the colorful children of the Serpent God would never smile again. So much had they lost, so much had been taken from them, and yet the Vez'Sinai never understood why.
They exist now, in small communes across the world, hidden from outsiders by magic and guile. They remember their creator, and mourn his death, an immortality of remembrance, for the Vez'Sinai do not perish to time's passing, with or without their Creator. Although they would fade to legends and stories, the Children of the Serpent still remembered every day they'd lived, and told those stories, the stories of Vez'Arai, the God that Cared, to their children.
One day, they hoped. One day, he'd return. Then together, they would venture on to a land in twilight, where no one would ever hurt them again. All they wanted now, with their dreams of friendship for all creation as ash in their mouths, all they wanted was to be left alone.
Neyland was a land uniquely prosperous. Despite the dark state of the world, the monsters, the disasters, Neyland was still aided and protected by its god, even if indirectly. The Neylish would overcome, they'd survive. Even if, one day, all the humans amongst them simply disappeared. That day was difficult for them indeed, yet they continued on. Onwards, as the oceans themselves. Never, would they fail to set sail, never would they fail to work hard, and survive.
The Aisari, the Star Elves, grew only more reclusive, in that passing eon. Obsessed, were they, with their journey to the stars, their destiny. The Star-Longing consumed them, as they dwelt in their ivory towers, seeking hobbies, interests, anything to keep it at bay. Many times, they attempted that voyage into the beyond, but never did they succeed. One day perhaps... it would be different.
And so a thousand years would pass. Some suffered from the impact of the war and the death of their fellow Gods, others took advantage of it expanding their name and wills or doing whatever they pleased without major consequences, and the ones who didn't do anything whether it was because of limitations placed upon them or simply for other reasons. Yet when these thousands years passed the essence of the dead gods didn't lay to rest, they didn't fade, in fact they would only slowly grow stronger and stronger, from the ashes of the dead Gods new ones would be born, all different yet similar to each other... would they bring prosperity or drag the world to a new age of darkness... Who knows...
With the serpent out of the picture and many of the Gods incapable or uncaring, Morois wasted no time to take action and came out of hiding. With her Minor Goddess Amais, then began sending the vampire race to integrate with other races, some even joining said communities. Next Morois created shrines and blessings for her followers, carefully placing the shrines all over Nraumm while also using her followers to spread the incentive for more people to become her followers, in this time bards would sing and dance to stories about Morois whether they were true or not further promoting her image. Though her afterlife was appealing to many, she still wanted a way for it to be known within the living and not only the recently deceased, as such she would have her followers write holy books with the main focus talking and explaining the afterlife which made even more join. However a Goddess could not look bad especially when her followers were growing and as such she would need to do the most tedious task, cleaning the messes of Koma, her own Minor Goddess of Pranks. Spending time fixing these messes Morois felt generous and began wiping the nightmares out of many children and even had his followers create a holiday in which youth and children would be celebrated. With her main goal at the moment completed she would return to her realm, occasionally leaving to create events for her dear followers or to clean up the messes of Koma. Morois would soon become the most Popular Goddess whether it be positive or not.
At the top of Nraumm the God of Death Kiru was simple, he hadn't participated in the war and the deaths of mortals was busy enough, he would occasionally create and watch over his creations, but he didn't bother doing much of anything else, his goals were simple and so were his actions, simple as death.
Dyne was one of the Gods who would also take advantage of the chaos and destruction that was brought by the war. She had grown tired of her original domains and capabilities and with the war concluding and the essence of Dozens of Gods laying around Dyne couldn't help herself but at the very least exchange for one. She would sacrifice her Agricultural domain for that of Drama. Dyne wasted no more time though as she slowly began abducting as many humans as possible all scattered across the world and sending them back to the human valley, closing off the exits by creating a massive mist around it and having her Fras her Minor God create a Barrier to ensure nothing would get in or out. With everything set up, Dyne would unleash hell upon the humans as she would begin causing wars amongst the humans trapped inside while also bringing back the dead to cause an apocalypse inside of her own playhouse all in her own amusement. It was not a good time to be human. Fras decided her duty was elsewhere and travelled towards the surviving Vez'Sinai to act as their protector, but found it difficult as many would travel all across Nraumm making the job all the more tedious. Nara, Dyne's other Minor Goddess, couldn't bear to watch what her Mother was doing to her own creations and decided to travel to The Library once owned and controlled by Pandora. Though when she entered, he vanished and no trace of her was left.
Yar, the God of madness, forgotten by many had laid locked away for a very long time, leaving many mortals and Gods alike unaffected, but it was only a matter of time before his return.
Detz the God of Uncertainty was nowhere to be seen or heard, it was as if his entire being had ceased. His Minor God Hruk the turtle noticed that his Father wasn't arriving to listen to his stories, he knew something was wrong, and so he searched, and searched, and is still searching, hoping to find his Father, for nothing brought him greater joy than to tell a new tale to his attentive father.
The individual that had ordered for the escort of the Ashborne and for Detz's prank went to the south of Nraumm and lied there, uncaring and uninterested about everything the individual simply lay down, letting time pass almost as if waiting for something.
Sana'a does not see the serpents farewell, nor does she see any other living thing for centuries. She hides away in shame and sorrow on her island, a once verdant paradise turned hellscape. The shadows that have consumed the island skitter outwards, reaching long, greedy fingers to claim large swaths of the surrounding lands and ocean.
She bleeds godly energy, refusing to fully absorb the dead remnants of her sister goddess, Shaldressyr, and grows terribly weak. In her absence the world's wounds fester and heal slowly. The Glassen Scar swells like a bruise, and a Garden of Bones blooms from the wounds left behind by a godly battleground. Life grows savage and hostile. Diseases ravage populations, famine claims cities, and in the deep wood monsters lurk.
Kanon had avoided the conflict to her own benefit, without much else to do, she decided to blend in with all types of societies, learning them and experiencing them for herself.
Viktor and his children would later return to their homeland, with the ashborne crippled and weak and gone, Viktor decided that he should leave his children and let them come up with their own destinies.
Xue cleared the corruption that remained from Tartarus and restored order in the depths. However, due to the war many races became skittish and had their first tastes of war. This was a spark of violence. Many races continued stocking for war, using much more resources than they once did. Fights broke out on the waters leaving much waste inside her land. People even began hunting her people for their scales and other resources. Xue wanted none of this chain in her waters. Even her children were beginning to become more hostile. Her waters became more fierce and hard to travel. Many harsh waves rocked boats. Most ships got engulfed by the sea and the people returned to the nearest shore. Races became more scared of the ocean. New races were made by her to defend her waters along with her own minor gods to help protect her ocean and spread her love around.
Khades had followed the remains of the Everspark deep beneath the ground until he found a large circular chamber where the Everspark lay in its centre. Dark tendrils grew forth and wrapped around the room, attempting to sow chaos into the rock and soil. For many years Khades sat in that room, severing any tendril of chaos that formed and pushing his very willpower against it. Even though it had been seperated from him, he could still feel it. He could feel the primary crystal far off as it waned. It, too, was in a battle of wills, and it was losing. One door to the Realm of Flame was sealing, though two still remained. If he could assert his mind over this Shard of the Everspark, he could control it, and some of his power would be restored.
Khades' Minor Gods fared little better. Teros had been captured by archmages and sealed within a mountain. Each hit against his tomb would be reflected back upon himself, so any attempt to escape by force was futile. Flame Matron Trynyrac watched her people develop, but she did not live with them. Rather, Trynyrac chose to remain nomadic even when the Ashborne stuck together in close-knit communities for safety. She would check in occasionally to dispense her wisdom or deliver justice where she sought fit. She taught them Khades' lessons, lessons of the dangers of overbearing law, lessons of embracing one's emotional and physical identity despite the pressures of others. History would not be kind to the Ashborne, but they would not need history to succeed and thrive among the oases of the wastes. Kezumar, they called it, and it would be the Ashborne's perfect home.
The Serpent had bid the world, its siblings, and its children, farewell. For the next eon, the new constellation would watch the world below, as the Serpent's very life drifted further, and further away. Wrapped in a cocoon of starlight, the Serpent's life ebbed, until one day, it seemed to drift from his body. Perhaps one day, he may return to life, but it would seem for now, the God of Creativity was gone.
In the world below, his children seemed painfully aware of this. Without their creator to watch over them, to keep them company, answer their questions and guide them, they were lost. Abandoning their destroyed homeland, the Vez'Sinai scattered to the wind, travelling to far, magical places, secret places, where they could hide. A deep, deep sorrow would settle over them as a people, and it seemed that the colorful children of the Serpent God would never smile again. So much had they lost, so much had been taken from them, and yet the Vez'Sinai never understood why.
They exist now, in small communes across the world, hidden from outsiders by magic and guile. They remember their creator, and mourn his death, an immortality of remembrance, for the Vez'Sinai do not perish to time's passing, with or without their Creator. Although they would fade to legends and stories, the Children of the Serpent still remembered every day they'd lived, and told those stories, the stories of Vez'Arai, the God that Cared, to their children.
One day, they hoped. One day, he'd return. Then together, they would venture on to a land in twilight, where no one would ever hurt them again. All they wanted now, with their dreams of friendship for all creation as ash in their mouths, all they wanted was to be left alone.
Neyland was a land uniquely prosperous. Despite the dark state of the world, the monsters, the disasters, Neyland was still aided and protected by its god, even if indirectly. The Neylish would overcome, they'd survive. Even if, one day, all the humans amongst them simply disappeared. That day was difficult for them indeed, yet they continued on. Onwards, as the oceans themselves. Never, would they fail to set sail, never would they fail to work hard, and survive.
The Aisari, the Star Elves, grew only more reclusive, in that passing eon. Obsessed, were they, with their journey to the stars, their destiny. The Star-Longing consumed them, as they dwelt in their ivory towers, seeking hobbies, interests, anything to keep it at bay. Many times, they attempted that voyage into the beyond, but never did they succeed. One day perhaps... it would be different.
And so a thousand years would pass. Some suffered from the impact of the war and the death of their fellow Gods, others took advantage of it expanding their name and wills or doing whatever they pleased without major consequences, and the ones who didn't do anything whether it was because of limitations placed upon them or simply for other reasons. Yet when these thousands years passed the essence of the dead gods didn't lay to rest, they didn't fade, in fact they would only slowly grow stronger and stronger, from the ashes of the dead Gods new ones would be born, all different yet similar to each other... would they bring prosperity or drag the world to a new age of darkness... Who knows...
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