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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Dog Moon" data-source="post: 2772842" data-attributes="member: 23023">The Fall and Rise of the GodsDespite being forced allies against the Lords of Chaos, the Gods were not friends and, in truth, no longer allies. Still, they had to get together to discuss the fate of the Lords of Chaos. Some believed that they should destroy the world the Lords of Chaos were trapped on, finishing them off once and for all. Others, however, believed that the traps were strong enough to keep them imprisoned and destroying the world would injure the Lords of Chaos, but wouldn't actually kill them.During this gathering, the War Gods went on the attack, led by the greatest of them all, a God name Wyrre. They attacked the other Gods. They were among those that believed that destroying the world would inadvertently free the Lords of Chaos and decided to make sure that the other Gods would not choose any other option. The only way to do this was to kill the Gods who thought that way.One might consider this as merely a battle and perhaps the Gods did, but to those living within the world of Lecrutia, it was the length of a great war, one in which everyone was caught up in as if they could feel the power of their God and feel the anger, hate, and fear that permeated the Gods' realm.Only three Gods remained after everything had ended: Webyrd, the God of Life, Wyrre, the God of War, and Mrutvu, the God of the Dead.NARRATION OF THE END OF THE GODSWARWyrre stepped over the bodies of the fallen. Only two opponents remained on the field, himself and Webyrd. All the others had fallen, though not necessarily to him. His plan had worked well and the other Gods had fought amongst themselves. His blade was notched and bloodied from the battle. Though his blade would never be the same, the story it would tell would be more grand than the slight weakness in its condition. After all, there would be no one to stand against him after Webyrd had fallen since the only ones who could match him in power were the Lords of Chaos who were currently trapped within the net surrounding Lecrutia. He could say he had killed the last God standing before his reign with this very sword.Webyrd stood calmly looking at him, her eyes glazed over with anger. She was the closest of the Gods to represent peace. Wyrre felt it a little ironic that she would be the last to perish. The peace in this world had been ruined and she had watched it all through her own eyes. Again there would be peace, but only through her death. Wyrre enjoyed the idea of peace arriving only after the symbol of peace disappears. He toyed with the idea in his mind, letting Webyrd dwell on her fate for the last remaining minutes of her existence."Why?" she asked him. Wyrre chuckled as he looked into her eyes. Though he saw many emotions in her eyes, he did not see fear. Perhaps she did not truly understand the concept of fear. She was the Goddess of Rebirth/Renewal. In her deluded mind, she must believe that someone or something would rise to protect her. But no, she did not have control over the dead or the undead. That old fool lay in a pile of his own ashes. Wyrre had watched the God of Time reverse the affects of the Undeath, bringing his body back to the time when his body had been alive and then aging the body to the present without the benefits of the undeath; the old Undead God had decomposed in an instant."Why not?" he asked her. "I am the most powerful of Gods. I deserve to be the only one, to inherit everything. None of the other Gods could stop me, nor will you," he said as he had approached."The task of watching over the Lords of Chaos will be left to you and to you alone. Do you think you can be forever vigilant?" Wyrre smiled, his lips upturned into a partial snarl as he did so. "Once you are gone, I will gather my strength and destroy the Lords of Chaos all on my own." "You fool," she spat.The ground began to shake beneath him. He paused for a moment, then leaped backwards as enormous oaks rose up from the ground, creating a barrier between him and his prey. He laughed at her feeble attempts to stop him. With a great swing of his sword, he chopped the trees in half. He hopped onto the severed remains and jumped down to the other side. A branch slammed into his side, causing him to tumble away from her. He turned quickly as it grabbed him and cut the branch. It fell to the ground, but it did not stop moving. It flung itself into the air at him. Wyrre cut the branch in twain and it finally quit moving after striking the ground.Roots grabbed at his ankles, tripping him. As he landed, more roots surrounded him. As they did so, he cut at them, preventing them from swallowing him whole. He jumped to his feet. He tired of these games and ran directly at Webyrd. Once her blood stained his blade with the others, her attempts to stop him would cease. She no longer made a move to resist him. "If you think you can kill me, then do so," she told him.Wyrre snarled at her as he brought his sword down. His powerful strength and clean swing cut her from the middle of her head to her legs. The two halves of her body split apart and Wyrre barked a laugh in triumph. He had defeated all the Gods. He was the most powerful of the Gods. He ignored the blood from his last conquest covering the front of his body. Unlike some of the other Gods, he did not lick the blood from his blade or armor. He did not consider himself evil enough to do such acts. In fact, he did not really consider himself evil at all. He was simply obsessed with war, perfectly logical since he was the God of War, after all. If he had a failing, he supposed that could be it.Unfortunately, there were no longer any opponents for him to fight. He chuckled miserably at that irony. He jabbed his sword into the ground as he turned his gaze towards the battlefield around him. So many dead in this war, a war began by him. He had invested years to set everyone up perfectly so they would kill each other. His plan, his tactic, had worked only too well. The Gods had destroyed each other, allowing him to sweep in and kill those wounded in the battle. A true tactician knew that it wasn’t who dealt the most damage or swung the quickest, but who killed the remaining opponents. Still, he had not imagined there to be so many Gods and Goddesses. He saw races of all sorts among the dead, Goblins, Gnolls, Drow, Dwarf, and many more exotic creatures. A large spherical orb lay much less spherical in a puddle of its own ichor. He hadn't even realized that the beholders had a concept of a God.He heard a slight rumbling beneath him. Frowning, he looked down at the ground beneath his feet. Roots shot forth from the ground, wrapping themselves around his legs. He reached for his sword, but the roots grabbed his arms, pulling them in towards his torso. Still, he was not worried. He had the strength to break free. The ground wanted vengeance for him killing its mistress is all. It had no true strength against him.Webyrd appeared in his vision. The only mark against her beauty was a slight line down the center of her face and neck. Wyrre stared in astonishment. “How…?” he began, but his question died in his mouth. “I’m am the Goddess of Rebirth,” she answered. Red crossed his vision. It was a dark line resembling blood. He saw several of the Gods’ bodies before him. Blood rose up from them and floated towards him. The roots closed, entrapping him. The blood splashed against the roots, soaking into the wood. “Forever there, you will stay trapped. The reborn essences of the Gods remain in their blood, and their strength will keep you from breaking free. This is your punishment for your disgrace. Only when the Lords of Chaos are freed will you also be freed in order to fight against them, but do not allow that to happen, Wyrre because while it may a great war to you, it will also be the last because all life will end, yours included.” Wyrre attempted to speak, but found his words only came in a whisper. “It is not a disgrace. I did only what I was born to do.” Webyrd gave no hint of hearing him, if she even could.One lone man watched this from far off. He had no blood to give to the ritual for he was already dead. Death cannot be killed nor can it be destroyed. He had nothing against either Wyrre or Webyrd. He had enjoyed the war because it had strengthened his own domain, and he looked forward to the time of rebirth for the world so it could live anew. Only when life had once again appeared could death follow. Until the rebirth, he would stay in his own domain, away from the troubles of the living world.THE CREATION OF THE NEW PANTHEONWyrre stood trapped in a state of solitude, alone and unable to do anything but grant his loyal servants a small fraction of the power he should be able to wield. The strength of the Webyrd lay within the tree surrounding him and if that wasn't enough, the blood of all other deities except that of Mrutvu added to the strength of the barrier. That the other deities would be able to oppose him even in death told of Webyrd's power.He struggled nonetheless, doubt filled his mind about his being able to defeat Webyrd, but not about being able to break free from the tree. He could do that one little thing; he had to do that one little thing - and do it without freeing the Lords of Chaos, something he didn't want more than anyone else. He was weakened beyond belief, a pathetic state for a God as powerful as him. He could feel his limbs, his muscles, but he had no room to move them.He concentrated solely on his left arm. He would free himself one limb at a time if he had to. He put to use his powers and his own physical strength, a greatness the mortals below could not duplicate. For days he focused on moving his arm, months. When he finally felt the tree give away slightly, it was an exhilaration he hadn't come close to feeling since he had almost defeated the other Gods during the Godswar.He found a moment of weakness in the tree and the blood and he felt his hand burst through the solid tree. He felt a light breeze upon his hand. He smiled with triumph until he felt a gentle touch upon his hand."Nooo!" he screamed. Would she even prevent him from having this victory? Was she that cruel? Webyrd touched the tree and Wyrre could feel the tree regaining strength. His victory was pointless after that action. It was stronger than ever before and he could do nothing against it. "Why do you do this to me?" he demanded angrily. "Do you come to taunt me?" "No," Webyrd answered. "I merely need another God and the power of the previous Gods rests within this tree." He felt a slight power draining free from around him. It was a small amount, barely noticeable. He hated that she was creating more Gods, rebuilding the Pantheon he had nearly destroyed.For now, however, she could not have taken enough power to create a single God, or two at the most. These Gods would never have the power to stand against him, Wyrre thought gleefully. When he escaped from this tree, and he had no doubt he would, especially if Webyrd continuously took the power holding him trapped to create more Gods, the newly created Gods would be nothing but a minor nuisance.It was then that he noticed the swell of her stomach. She was with child! "Who?" he demanded. Webyrd smiled lightly. She understood his question, but he clarified it anyway: "Who is the father of your child?" "Mrutvu," she answered him, surprising him. He hadn't even realized the God of the Dead even had the capability of creating life, especially in such an old-fashioned way. He ground his teeth in anger at the realization of the implications of this birth. The child of two Gods was going to be powerful on it's own, but with the addition of the blood from previous Gods, there child was not going to be a weak, pathetic God as he had thought."I will kill you, Webyrd!" he screamed, though he had no way currently to back up his threat.He could almost feel the Goddess smiling. "And I will rise again from the ashes, a perpetual Phoenix, always to return." </blockquote>

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