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This was the last straw, the gods had overstepped their bounds one too many times. My hand clenched around the arcanenis stone, the bright crystal glowing slightly with the power it held as I watched my wife fight for her life on the bed before me, we were here, suffering, at their behest, to them it was entertainment to watch us wee mortals weep over each other, to exploit the weakness of our dying bodies. But no more, with the stone in my hand fueling my fire, I was going to bring down the gods, they would no longer sit above us and strike us down at a whim.

But for now I had to sit here, my hand gently cupping the face of the woman I love. She'd live, she'd be fine, as soon as the healer got here, of that I had no doubt, but the simple fact that she has to fight for her life because the gods thought it entertaining was enough to make me start to walk this path. Her red hair pooled across the bed, looking like fire against the white linen, and her pale skin, her green eyes were clenched shut and she grasped her favoriate silver dagger in her hand, they would pay for this.

(ooc: okay quick note, rules, this is set in ancieant times, fantasy, so magic, which is fueled by the arcanenis stones and called fire. Swords and yadda, all that stuff, little to no technology, catapults and the like are okay, and the gods, they're powerful, but not invincible, because in the end they all die, but otherwise than that, have fun, just jump in, and I need a healer.)

Vlad fell to his knees as his town burned as a sudden fire devoured it. tears sreaming down his face, hidden by the helmet he wore. His heavy armor was pelted by rain and he cried out to the gods. "Why have you let this happen! Have we wronged you in some way! Why was I the only survivior!" He continued his cried until a bright light glowed before him. He smiled as the a woman formed before him. It was Nefera, goddess of mercy, the town's chosen leader.

Her smile had always cheered him up, but now was different, he didn't feel a thing. He was only able to mouth one word, "WHY?" His helmet still covered his face, but his goddess knew what he ment. "You pittyless town board me, and Vas[the god of suffering and punishment] made me a bet. 'Your town loves you so much, and always relies on you, I bet they would all die if you didn't help them'. I showed him wrong, but you have disapointed me, your the only one alive... You worthless fool..."

Those words cut Vlad deeper than any axe ever would, they wounded him greater than the sharpest of blades, his heart and his faith shattered into a thousand pieces, never again shall they be fully healed. Vlad held his claymore tightly and lunged at the goddess, a demonic fury in his eyes. His body called out for blood, the blood of a god. thwe blow he delt was nothing to the goddess and she glared at Vlad.

'You worthless little mongrel! How dare you attack me, a goddess?! Your a waste of my time, your worthless mortal..." And with that she faded away. Vlad fell again to his knees, holding his sword in front to him, tears streaming down on it. His eyes saw something on the blade...

His eyes widened as his looked at his sword, there was blood... "They can be harmed..." He said as his heart slightly reformed. "They can be killed..." He set out, his heavy armor clanking as he walked, his face twisted in an evil smile...

I stared with hatred at the face of my mistress, her cold eyes boring into my own. My lips moved to speak, and my words came forth with rage.

"Prime! You have taken this too far. These mortals are pitiful, miserable things already! Why punish them because of this war? Are we not to be the victor all the same? Have you really become so bitter as to punish the blameless and weak out of spite? I won't stand for it, you know! I will pledge my loyalty to Compassion! Perhaps even Courage, should he have need of me!"

Prime... the Goddess Alsuir, whose name above all else was too holy to be uttered by my lip, who headed of the Council of Elders, simply smiled and shook her head.

"You were a mortal once, yourself. I showed you great faith in giving you endless life... power... strength. All I ask is that you trust my judgement. These humans destroy the world we have given them. With every move... they only make matters worse. Allow me to heal the wounds... allow me to save their world, so we may start anew. Do not interfere, Lazaal. Please?"

My patience was wearing thin.

"Xenocide will not heal the planet's wounds... it will only anger the humans enough that they will strike out against us. Even as weak as they are, they have the stolen Arcanis Stones. Their numbers are few and spread far between... but the stones in their hands as of now are enough that they could easily defeat such petty gods as Irony or Greed. With Greed's stone... they could take Irony's. With Irony's, Lust... and Pain... and Rage... and Spite... and Anguish... soon, even Hate would be put to the test."

Her voice became cold and pained. "Lazaal! Do -not- betray me! I need your strength if I am to save the world. The others will follow you... they have more faith in your strength than they do even in -me-! If you go... there will be war between even the gods... and I will -never- allow humanity to ruin themselves... so if it comes to victory or death... I will face whatever comes."

I lowered my gaze, turned, and made to go. "I owe you my very existence, Alsuir... I will never forget that. But I cannot, however, condone the murder of innocent lives because we have failed to guide them properly."

Her words were cut off as the door to the Grand Council Chamber slammed closed behind me... and I never once looked back as I rallied my army to my side and made to leave the Kingdom of Heaven. The familiar presence of my goddess... my love... slowly faded from my body as I reached the portal that would take me to the realm of Courage... the god Jazakuul... who was the first to stand against her actions. Perhaps he -would- have need of me.

The healer rose from her bedside, a smile crossing his face and my hand fell from his shoulder. The Arcanenis stone slowly faded till only a point of light held in it's crystal depths. I took a step back, allowing the weary man to rise, "She'll be alright, just let her have a few days rest and she will be fine."

I nodded and handed him some coins and showed him to the door with my thanks, then I went to my wife's side and knelt. My fingers were soon stroking her hair as he stared down at her. How he did love his little witch, red of hair and pale skin, for that was what she was, one of the only beings that could cast fire without an Arcanenis stone, for they had there own source of power, a marking, they were all born with it, but each was different. Aclaidia's was about her wrist, looking like a twisted rope wrapping about. It always glowed a faint blue, and the ink, thats what some call it, was of the same materieal as the stones. But though this was a great advantage, they also had a more limited scope of what they could do with their fire.

I soon found myself being shooken awake, "Come on Ravven, time to wake up," I stirred and my head rose.

I reached out and cupped her face. a smile carressing my lips, "You're back, how do you feel."

She laughed lightly and gently gripped my wrist, leaning into my hand, brushing her lips to my palm, "Was there ever a doubt? I feel like I was tossed in a whirlwind and run down by a herd of horses, the gods sure do play hard with us brittle mortals."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then looked her in the eyes, "Never again, the gods will answer for this, they have overstepped there bounds one too many times, and now they will pay!"

Her smile faltered, but she looked me in the eye and spoke, "Are you set on this path, you know what must be done, and what will happen should we fail?"

I didn't like the we, but I knew it useless to argue, she would come no matter what, "I am, and I know," I held up my freehand, now clutching the arcanenis stone, ready for her to begin. It is an odd thing, the gods think the Arcanenis stones theirs, but in truth they belong to the both of our races, for either can use them, but each of us has our own fire the other cannot touch, should they meet, they would disperse each other. The gods, who are immortal and bleed only ichor, had their powers, which entitled them to their titles. But we mortals bleed blood, so we can call forth fire from that life fluid.

She took up her dagger and drew the blade from it's sheath, "To sheild us from the powers of the gods, I call forth the fires of sanguine, to even the playing feild, to make it so that should we be able to come face to face with them, we would have a chance to bring down these immortal ones."

With that she cut into her palm, and then mine, we wrapped our hands about the stone, which flared in red light for but a moment, binding us to the protection, and to the task.

I gasped, trying to catch my breath, as I crawled into a corner in a half ruined farmhouse. I had been running for so long. If only I could find a weapon. I brushed my sweat soaked hair from my eyes as I desperately looked around. Anything with a sharp edge would do. Not to fight those that chased me, I was too small and frail for that. But to make certain that they didn't recapture me alive.

I still wasn't certain how I had escaped the cell they had held me in. I had been cowering on the floor of that cell, despairing of my plight, trying not to think of the "experiments", actually tortures, that I had heard being discussed. My left hand had started throbbing and then everything had went hazy. When my sight cleared, I was outside! I wasn’t one to uselessly question good fortune so I had started running. But at some time, those that I fled had picked up my trail. I had ran even faster, running down streams, and out into a old ruined farmhouse on the outskirts of a still smoldering town. Now, I was at the end of my endurance, so physically exhausted that every muscle in my body was trembling.

I looked at my left hand, at the work of those I had fled. My mother had been a witch, as had her mother, and her mother’s mother, and on back for generations untold. But I, the latest daughter of this line, had been born without a link of my own. A couple of the gods had found this amusing, and ordered their human lackeys to take me for experimenting. Those humans, who were the same that hunted me now, had watched as a god had taken an Arcanenis stone, worked it into the shape of a seven pointed star, and implanted it in the living flesh of my left palm. The gods had wanted to see if I could tap into the stones power, but so far I couldn’t. The gods that had ordered this had got bored, and mostly forgotten about me. If this stone was the agent of my escape, I had no idea how I had made it do it.

Suddenly I stiffened and tried to be quiet. Had I heard somebody outside this ruin? There! A twig snapped. Then I saw the face of Drof, the one that had been my particular bane during my imprisonment loom around the edge of the still standing doorjamb. “I found her,”, he yelled, “in this old building!.”

I pressed myself back further into the corner as he and the rest of my pursuers came into the room. The started advancing on me, laughing and joking about what they planned to do once they got me back to the cell. “Why wait?”, asked one, “We can have some fun with her here. She is a girl after all.” They all laughed at that. “Hey yeah, we couldn’t do that back in the cell. One of the gods might look in just then.”, another said. My heart pounded so hard that I thought it would burst. I shakingly cried out “No! Not that too!” They laughed harder, and Drof smiled evilly as he advanced on me, fumbling with his breeches.

I felt my left hand start throbbing like it had before, but paid it no attention in my terror. Drof was reaching for me with one hand as he lowered his breeches with the other. I flung my hands out to try and fend him off. When the left one slapped against his flesh something horrible happened. I watched in even greater terror as he aged before my eyes. Decades seemed to rush upon him like a flame consuming a leaf. At the same time, I felt my exhaustion and pains leave me, and a warmth flood into me. In less than a minute, the corpse of the ancient man that had been Drof fell to the ground with a rustle of tearing parchment skin and a clatter of dried bone. I stared at it in as much horror as the rest of my would be captors did, if not more.

“Look what she did!”, one of them screamed as they all scrambled to get back out of the ruin, “She has the power!” “Kill her!”, said another, “The orders we were left with said to do that if any thing dangerous manifested.” “How will we do that? We didn’t think we needed weapons to recapture her. And I am not going closer!” “Get some killing sized stones to throw at her if she tries to come out, and burn this place with her in it.”

I listen, almost too numb with existing horror at what I had done to care about what I heard. But not quite. I didn’t want to burn. Surely whatever had aided my escape and done this thing could bring help. I closed my eyes and focused my fear of burning alive into a silent cry for help. My left hand started throbbing again as I did so, and I welcomed that feeling this time. I waited hopefully, knowing my time was short.

((OOC, if any of the other players would like to use this opportunity to have their character help save mine and interact with her, this is a good time.))

As Vlad walked through his ruined city, he passed into the outskirts. He saw a small girl run into a ruined farmhouse, a survivior?! More men ran about, one of them cried out that they had found 'her' as they all rushed into the building. Soon all but one ran out, yelling "kill her!" and "Burn the house down!" They began to grab large rocks and burn torches, they began to set the farmhouse aflame again!

Something else burned inside Vlad, a flame like before. He walked behind one of the men, who heard the sound of his armor and turned. "Get out of here, this doesn't concern you, This is an issue of the gods!" This just got even angrier, "The Gods! The gods have forsaken this town, and I have forsaken them! Any servent of the god will fall by my hand!"

Vlad grasped the man by his throut and lifted him off the ground. He screamed as Vlad crushed his neck, and was soon silenced. The others turned to Vlad and threw their rocks. They bounced harmlessly off of his armor as he drew his claymore. Vlad yelled as he charged at the men, cleaveing one of them in half.

The others droped their torches and ran, but were quickly cut down, unable to match Vlad's unholy speed and rage. He stood there, blood splattered all over his armor, his sword soaked in the fluids of the captors. "The survivor!" Vlad said as he snapped out of his rage. He ran into the burning farmhouse, looking for the girl.

Finding her cowering in a corner, he reached out his hand, "Take my hand, I'm here to get you out! You must hurry, this place may come right down on us!" It was then when he notice he was stepping on something, a charred body, crumbling away under his weight.

My army wandered the lands of the mortals for days... searching out the place where the goddess of Justice, Sualei, had made her home. Since abandoning the Kingdom of Heaven, a great many of the gods and goddesses had chosen to live in the mortal shell of existence, and I for one couldn't blame them. The mountains of Xaevoli were beautiful set against a sun that did not always remain high in the cloudless blue sky, but instead would set behind them in a prism of colors and lights.

And the plains... rolling hills... wildflowers... the stuff of dreams. I may have been a god... but I was human once, and I can appreciate those sorts of things. In my lifetime I had been a poet... wooed a goddess... and earned immortality by leading the Republic of Karzantium against the might of the Goddess of Spite, Zevlia. The Battle-Saint Lazaal... the God of Spirit and Verse... how I had clung to that title when -she- gave it to me. It made me proud... to think my words and songs and dreams had meant enough to warrant existing forever.

And now... that pride was gone.

Pain had driven her mad. Pain and worry and years of people turning their backs to her guidance. They didn't want gods anymore. Sciences were beginning to become more and more popular... and that left little room for the divine in the daily life.

Instead of priests, there were chemists.

Instead of faithful, there were apothecaries.

Instead of divinity, there was a science to everything... and even the old alchemists were beginning to get shut out. Magic was still at use... but now people called it 'fire'... and their arrogance took away all meaning.

I found myself wondering if perhaps she wasn't right. Perhaps these people were straying too far... threatening their world with too much science and too little faith. It was not my place to say.

And so I led my warriors... yes... those same warriors who saved the Republic almost three millenia ago... out into the world we had left behind. The world we had transcended. Looking around... the poetry that had gone so long ago came back... and I felt myself welling up with songs unsung and stories untold.

Yes... yes yes yes... this would be the place where the story ended. Not today... not tomorrow... but this very place, the Kingdom of Heaven would either unite, or fall. We pressed on with supernatural endurance and did not speak of it further.

When at last we came to a halt again, it was to find ourselves at the foot of a large fortress city. The outer farmlands were mostly empty, save for what I could see of a large group of men outside one particular farmhouse. I considered, for a moment, moving to intervene in full force, but decided it best to get myself closer to the incident.

Pulling Sarbelun aside, I ordered the army be held out of sight while I investigated the city below. If it was one of those spiteful gods cast out of the Kingdom of Heaven so long ago... it was possible that we would find only enemies in this land. Still, something emanating from that barn gave me pause, and I switched my sight to the ethereal vision of a true god... finding what it was I felt.

"Nervalae save these poor souls... they've forged a Magus."

I turned back to them all and shook my head.

"Whatever is in there... they know it's an abomination, and they'll kill it. If we're going to be true to the title of gods and goddesses, angels and saints... let us show them what the -true- colors of Heaven are!"

The entire army surged forward with my command... and my runeblade glinted as I drew it forth for what might be the first time out of a true sense of duty. Whatever miserable peasants the gods had assigned to kill the Magi, they would be no match for the Battle-Saint Lazaal and his Army of Souls.

"Cut them down to the last man... do -not- let them harm the Magus. Whatever they've infused the stone into, we will take with us. Nothing can compare to the power of the Magi. Even an artificial one is more powerful than any Arcaneis Stone alone could be."

My blade sang, and the sky darkened. My voice cried out on the wind, and the wind responded by ceasing. This would be a dark, bloody affair, but the servants of the twisted and cruel must be purged if you are to destroy the wicked and cruel themselves.

I prepared for the blood that was to come, and smiled inside.

"Maybe you were right, Alsuir... maybe they do deserve to die... but let it be those warped and depraved souls who meet their ends. Not the innocent."

Aclaidia shook me awake again, and when I looked up at her fire framed face I smiled, I loved her hair. She nodded and I climbed to my feet, "I guess if we are to hunt gods we should start with the outcasts, the ones thrown out and weakened in the fire they hold, better to get practice on the lesser ones before we move on to the more dangerous ones."

I nodded, what she said made sense, so I walked over to the sink and filled a bowl with water. I searched in my pocket and found the Arcanenis stone, holding it over the water I touched the fire inside, the stone began radiating light, and I began scrying. Soon the image of one of the banished came into veiw.

I looked over and then grasped her hand and held it tightly in mine, then I reached out and placed my hand on the surface of the water, still grasping the stone. The world tilted and for a moment went black, then suddenly we found ourselves standing, well actually falling over, outside. When we got up we looked around, seeing a burning barn, a man pulling a small girl from it, and an army bearing down on us, "Maybe this wasn't such a good place to start."

As I started to feel the heat of the fire on the outside of the ruin, an armored man with blood splattered on him and coating his sword stepped into the room. I started to feel afraid but he held out his hand to me and said "Take my hand, I'm here to get you out! You must hurry, this place may come right down on us!" As he stepped on what was left of Drof, I felt a certainty that he meant me no harm. I reached out to him with my right hand, keeping my left one closed. "Yes, please, let's hurry! I have to get away, more may come after me.", I said as I stood and started to head out of the burning building.

(Is it too late to join?)

(I think it's never too late to join... the more people that come and play, the better the story will be.)

(Yep, this is open to all newcomers, just jump in, but make sure that what you have makes sense and follows the basic ideas set forth, have fun.)

Vlad lead the girl out of the burning barn, only to come face to face with a couple a chargeing ghost army, the gods are trying to get rid of him... "well played you monsters, well played." He put the girl onto his back and passed her his sword. "Hold this!" He dashed off past the couple. Thankfully his sanity had returned to him, had it not, he would have ran like a madman into the army, and been cut down quickly.

"If you have any sanity to you people, you'd run too!" He said to the couple.

As we bottomed the hill, I finally saw that in truth, my vision had been distorted by molten air, and the 'grand' city was now blown asunder and abandoned like the rotting carcass of a wild beast. Smoke rolled from behind alabaster walls... and all the stood were the ruins of those buildings which could not be burnt to ash.

That could only mean two things.

Either they had no further use for the city... or their prophet had forseen it's destruction and ordered it be carried out lest we save the poor souls reisding within. Either way... the gods of this land were no longer residing in this particular fortress, and that left me with a rather peculiar situation.

As I leveled my eyes with the remaining woman, I recognized the powers within her easily. She was not the Magus who had been here... no... -that- female was currently on the back of a cowardly man running for his life. No... she was something else... and I had to hold my tongue lest perhaps her mate flee much the same as the other man. In fact, I sent five of my men fastest runners to corner him, unarmed, and bring him back here to me. The rest I ordered to reclaim the city and bury the dead. Walls were better than nothing... and if an army of lesser saints was only thirty times more efficient than a team of human masons... the city would still be rebuilt into a fortress by the end of two days time.

I approached the man and the woman, grief playing across my eyes quite visibly.

"Do you know how long this city has burned? And by who it was done so? I hunt the goddesses of Irony and Greed... and this city was meant to be their capitol. If they have abandoned it... I need to know where they've gone."

I looked to my men in the distance, still chacing the fleeing man.

"When they bring him back here... we'll talk more. For now... just remain calm. You are officially under the protection of Battlesaint Lazaal, God of Spirit and Verse. These... Exiles of Heaven... will be brought to justice."

I blinked as a man ran past, in full armor, though it looked to be slightly tarnished, it must have been from the fire, though that was not the strange part, for on his back was a little girl, holding a huge claymore. I pondered on this for a little while, not exactly sure of what to do, but my attention was soon drawn away from them, as the army started to flow about us, spliting apart and giving us a comfortable berth, well as comfortable as it could get when an unknown army was surrounding you.

One man approached, wearing incredible armor, and my hand clutched about the arcanenis stone in my hand, clenching it tightly, keeping it from sight. His eyesflicked to Aclaidia, and I stepped closer to her, but soon a look of obeyance fell over his face and he turned back to face me as he approached. His flicked momentarily to his men, who were in persuit of those fleeing.

He turned once again to us and spoke, "When they bring him back here... we'll talk more. For now... just remain calm. You are officially under the protection of Battlesaint Lazaal, God of Spirit and Verse. These... Exiles of Heaven... will be brought to justice."

I jumped backwards, dragging Aclaidia with me, and the arcanenis stone leapt into the air, hovering above my palm. Light exploded into existance, falling in barriers all about, the army was seperated from the commander, the two running would soon find themselves trapped, and I had the god alone, only me, him, and Aclaidia. My hand flashed to the dagger at my waist, and withdrew it, making ready to draw the blood I'd need to cast a spell he would be unable to take ahold of, a fire to burn him from these realms.

But a soft touch on my shoulder stilled me. I turned and looked at my wife, she smiled, making my heart ache, and then looked to Lazaal, "I am Aclaidia goddess of Healing and Rebirth, It has been ages since we last met Lazaal, how are you fareing?"

I blinked, then blinked again, I could not move, I could not think, the woman I loved, was one of the beings I sought to destroy.