Touch Of Fate
/ Touch of Fate 264 Personal Business
"What do you mean you forgot?! That was the whole point of coming here!"
Cariel laughed, looking a bit sheepish. "Well, it was such a good fight that it didn't even occur to me until I was already heading back."
Julia had spent nearly two hours hunting for the angel on the battlefield, only to find her in the keep after she'd given up and gone back. She'd somehow fallen in with a group of orcs, and was taking them on in a series of celebratory wrestling matches. Needless to say, this did not improve her mood in the slightest.
Hands curled into grasping claws, the cat beastman had to look away, lest her anger get the best of her. She asked another question in the hopes of salvaging something from the situation. "Did you at least meet the person you were looking for?"
"Hmm..." Cariel frowned in deep thought, obviously consulting her memories thoroughly. For every second that she delayed, Julia could feel her blood pressure rising. Finally, the angel's face broke open into a grin. "Ah! Now that I think about it, there was one guy who seemed like he might be the Hero. He was fighting this big skeleton dude, who was actually pretty tough. Even I had some trouble with him."
"Aren't you supposed to be able to sense the Hero's presence?!...Haa, never mind. You probably forgot that you could do that, too. Anyway, what did he look like? Did you see where he went afterwords?"
Cariel frowned again, "He was human...I think? I didn't really see him leave though. Once the big skeleton was down and the fight seemed to be over, I saw a group of undead knights that looked like they were trying to get away, so I chased them."
[What are you, a dog?!] Ignoring the mild irony of the thought, Julia rubbed her temples, feeling the now familiar headache coming on. "Alright, so here is what we are going to do. Chances are, he's going to be part of the victory celebrations back in Almirn, probably even going to be the guest of honor at whatever feast the royals are throwing. If we can get in there, it should be simple matter of tracking him down."
"Okay, I understand." The angel nodded absently, clearly not understanding at all.
Julia sighed. "I suppose I'll just take care of that part too. Don't worry about it."
"Thanks, Julia! Your the best! I'm going to go back to wrestling now. I've only got another twenty matches or so before they'll let me take on their chieftain." Cariel replied enthusiastically before running back to the circle of orcs. Although Julia might have been imagining things, she thought the line of muscular warriors cringed at the angel's return.
Walking away, she began planning everything she would need to do to get into the event. [The easiest way would be to get an invitation, but that might be a bit difficult. Failing that, I could steal some servant uniforms or something. Hmm, I'll save that for a last resort, since I don't think Cariel could act long enough to make it through the front door...]
It was late at night, not that you could tell from the raucous celebrations that were still going strong. Chances were that most of the people she needed to speak with were already well into their cups.
[Nothing for it. I guess I'll wait until tomorrow to get started.]
Lost in thought, she didn't even notice as her target landed nearby and quietly entered the keep.
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Morning found Mike sitting on the keep's parapets, deep in thought.
He'd avoided sleeping again, having spent most of the night dealing with the repercussions of Sera's kidnapping. Not to mention the lecture he'd gotten from her about treating her like a summoned monster. Although the Oracle was obviously upset, he could tell that her heart wasn't in it. She even lapsed into awkward silence once he told her about his Cabal hunting activities.
The remainder of his night had been dedicated to exploring the limits of his new abilities. He'd discovered that becoming Tier 4 had given him another boost to his already ridiculous attributes and improved his command of his other skills. While certainly welcome, this meant he needed to take time to adapt to his new power, lest he end up losing control at an inopportune moment.
[Well, I suppose its about time I got this over with.] He thought as he prepared to go down and face the members of the coalition army.
Thanks to the raucous party last night, which had only petered out once the sun came up, he'd been able to put off reporting to the army leaders. He dreaded having to answer all their questions, and listen to their praise and gratitude, but he supposed that he would have to get used to it. After all, there would be a lot of that sort of thing in the coming days.
Standing, he was just about to drop off the side of the keep when he heard an exclamation from the stairs.
"Manling! Wait! I wish to speak with you."
The orc chieftain he'd once defeated in a duel was standing there, a look of confused anger on her face.
Mike hopped down and walked over to her. "What is it, Talgratha?"
The half-orc hesitated, as if uncertain of what she wanted to say. Finally, she growled under her breath and pointed one finger at him accusingly. "I can't beat you in a fight!"
He blinked, a little confused himself. "...I'm sorry?"
"Don't apologize!" She turned and paced a few steps angrily, before rounding on him again. "Its become obvious to me that I don't stand a chance against you in a fair duel. Although that was true even before you broke through, I just can't accept it! I swore to make you into my slave, and a true chieftain doesn't go back on her word. Since I can't take you by force, then I will make you follow me by the only means left to me!"
"...I see?" He replied, feeling that this whole conversation was a bit surreal.
[I really don't understand this woman. She seems angry at me, but I'm not actually detecting any hostility. Is she embarrassed or something? Maybe this is normal in orc culture? I suppose if you look past the whole fighting and slavery thing, this could be construe as a kind of romantic conversation... But that couldn't be right, could it?]
Still lost in thought, he didn't have a chance to react as Talgratha suddenly swept him into a sudden embrace. Although his initial impression was dominated by the sensation of rock hard muscles along her arms and stomach, he found himself pillowed against her surprisingly soft chest. His mind went blank as a pair of soft lips pressed against his, although the points of two tusks made it slightly uncomfortable. After a few seconds she let go and stepped back, face flushed.
"Listen well, manling! I declare that, since I cannot claim your body through physical combat, I shall one day claim your heart as a woman! Prepare yourself!" She announced dramatically before turning on her heels and quickly descending the stairs. Although her posture was still stiff and upright, Mike couldn't shake the impression that she was beating a hasty retreat before he had a chance to reply.
[Well...that certainly happened.] He thought while brushing his lips with one finger. The sensation of the kiss was still lingering, and he was trying to decide how he felt about it.
After a few moments, he grinned.
[Maybe I've finally hit my popular phase?]
------------------------------
Talgratha stomped through the fort in a haze of...some kind of emotion that she refused to acknowledge.
Or at least she tried to. Intoxicated party goers were still sprawled all over, and she had to pick her path carefully lest she step on someone. Even in her current state, she new better than to spoil the post victory mood by starting an unnecessary fight.
[Why in the hells did I do that?!] She roared in her mind.
Initially, she'd only planned on declaring her intention to eventually surpass him and make him submit, but being there, and seeing that confident aura of power, she'd realized how hopeless that plan was. She couldn't back down though, her pride wouldn't allow it.
So, in a haze of conflicting emotions, she decided on the one avenue still left for her, and gave a much more difficult declaration.
Just thinking about it made her want to punch something.
"Yo, chief! You doing alright? You're blushing like a woman in love." Her second in command, Grobosh arrived just in time. The burly orc was obviously still drunk. In fact, he even had a half-empty tankard clenched in one meaty fist. His mouth was still twisted into his usual idiotic grin when Talgratha's fist slammed into his jaw.
He collapsed into a satisfyingly boneless heap, and she was able to continue on her way feeling slightly better about the whole situation.
At least until she recalled the manling's oddly tantalizing scent.
"GAHH!" She yelled loudly to herself, waking up several drunken soldiers in the process. However, she was too busy battling inner demons to notice.
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Biographies Part 5
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Yilon
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Also known as the God of the Void, Master of Entropy, Manifestation of Oblivion, The Veil of Hidden Truths, and a handful of local and regional titles, Yilon is one of the Five Creator Gods of Ea.
It appears as a sphere of impenetrable darkness which seems to absorb the light and heat from its surrounds. Although it likely has the capacity for taking on other forms, it has never done so.
Yilon is not associated with any kind of living thing, nor does it have a sacred creature.
Personality
------------
Its questionable if this mysterious being even feels emotions in the traditional sense. When necessary, it speaks in a blunt monotone, rarely taking any side in a conflict between the Creators. Indeed, it rarely seems to have any opinion at all, and instead appears to be content with merely maintaining the status quo.
Yilon never involves itself in mortal affairs. As such, it has little in the way of followers on Ea. A few desperate or insane individuals will offer up prayers to the Manifestation of Oblivion, wishing for an end to all things, but even these requests go unfulfilled. Although it has no real clergy, Yilon is still included in major temples dedicated to the Creators, ensuring that its existence is not forgotten by mortals.
Among the Ascended, it is viewed as a strange and somewhat terrifying entity. Thanks to its tendency to slowly absorb the divinity of the lesser gods in its vicinity, Yilon has no faction to speak of. However, on the rare occasions that it offers an actual suggestion, its fellow Creators usually go along with it. Whether this is because they recognize the being's wisdom, or merely fear the repercussions of ignoring it, remains unclear.
Spheres of Influence
----------------------
Yilon governs the Aspects of Void, Entropy, Space, Time, the Unknown, and the Apocalypse. Its role as the master of the unseen underbelly of Ea's cosmic structure means that it is also the only being that truly understands the workings of the System. At times, it has been referred to by the other Creators as the Administrator.
Outside of a few obscure theological treatises, little is known about Yilon on Ea. Most major cities have at least some small shrine dedicated to the entity, usually funded by the other churches, but most sentient beings prefer to pretend that it doesn't exist. Not many can comfortably acknowledge the eventual end of all things, a concept it embodies as the Herald of the Apocalypse.
Despite its usual tendency towards non-involvement, Yilon is somehow the patron god of the void elves, a mysterious race of beings said to inhabit a shadowy realm known as Nocturnis. They, along with many of realm's inhabitants, tend to worship the God of the Void to the exclusion of all others, something that remains rather troubling for the other Creators.
Outside of Nocturnis, Yilon has little presence. Some apocalyptic cults pray to it, and a few Demon Lords are said to be in its employ, but neither group seems to have any real backing from the Master of Entropy.
Of course, no one is truly sure just how much influence it has on the System itself, and whether or not it makes use of it.
Chapter end
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