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'Dread' Delgath last won the day on July 31 2018

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  1. "Pffffft," Dread's lips vibrated with boredom. He leaned against the wall, where he'd been waiting patiently for awhile. "Yeeeaaah...," He looked to the other's assembled. "It doens't look like the others are coming and I'm starving... you guys wanna, like, go get a McMuffin or something? I skipped breakfast."
  2. "I wouldn't know, because I don't do paperwork. Because, you know, I'm a god. I don't answer to people, people answer to me." He shook his head, still not understanding how these 'gods' thought.
  3. "Sure," he shrugged. "After all, Ruin and I are all kinds of impressive." Modesty apparently was no tone of the Warlord's virtues. "Ugh... where to begin." He folded his thick arms and thought for a moment. "Ruin used to be a spirit of nature. Freedom, exploration, the wind, all that. Anyway, when the sundering or end of the world, or whatever you wanna call it happened... it found it's way here. Curious to see this new world it set about roaming the plains and countrysides in the form a horse. Beautiful, majestic, finest of specimen of it's breed, yadda, yadda... you know how it goes with spirit types." He was an expressive talker, his hands moved a lot, conveying points as his words planted themselves and blossomed into the ideas he was expressing. His frat-boy immaturity and party animal nature seemed to have bled away, indicating that when Dread was serious, he was deadly serious and far smarter than some might give him credit for. "Then, Ruin had the misfortune of encountering the worst thing to ever to exist in all the realms, spiritual or otherwise." "What was that?" Kamala asked, curiously. Taking the cue of his pause while he gathered his thoughts. "Us." Dread said solemnly. "It was so beautiful and majestic, that a group of assholes of course had to chase it down, probably with the intent to kill it and hang it's hide on a wall. Because that's what we do with majestic things. We destroy them. It was so fast though, they couldn't catch the spirit... until finally they did. A group of thugs, raiders after the initial fist fucking the end of things delivered to us. They chased i on their bikes, pulled it to the ground with chains wrapped in barbed wire." Kamala could feel the heat radiating off from the War God. Anger, rage, resentment, disgust... these were not emotions to the giant man, they were a palpable aura to deep that even the normally calm and rational Kamala could feel herself wanting to give into the baser desires of hatred and rage. "Near death, they left it to bleed out in the wastes." "I came upon it, near death." His eyes were focused on a point in time, not any anything particular in the present. "For the first time it knew pain, misery, greed, resentment. It knew vengeance. All it wanted before its essence passed from this world was for those that wronged it to be destroyed and their souls scattered to the ether. I promised I would avenge it, and in return it bound itself to me. To save itself, it and I become one... War, and Ruin. The cruelest and most malicious of them, the chopper Ruin takes the shape of, it was his. Although it can still take the form of a horse if it chooses, it rarely chooses to do so. It's existence is pain and misery, anger and contempt. I offer what solace I can by trying to be its friend. Indeed, Ruin is the only friend I've ever had. Inseparable, literally, since I was eight." He smiled. It was forced and mildly faked in a vain attempt to cast aside the miserable topic and memories. "Which was pretty embarrassing at first... because I was too young for a motorcycle... so it took the form of a bike. I had to pedal everywhere. Don't get me wrong, it looked bad ass having a mongoose of chains and fire and skulls. It was rad as fuck, but... pedaling. Anyway, what Ruin was and Ruin is now... two totally different things. The spirit of nature is gone, all that's left is the desire to take me into battle so I can cull the weak and pathetic from this world."
  4. The Lord of War snored loudly, sprawled out on the bar like it were his bed, which indeed, it was. It was only a matter of time before the scandals rolled in, as his temple was a debauched mess of half naked women, men, and a lot of booze. From some distance away a large splash of beer slammed against his face, lurching him up from a restful sleep. "My Lord," hissed Sydney in a disappointed tone. She watched the god hop off bar, bare ass to world and on full display for anyone passing by. Thankfully the establishment was far away from the road and dimly lit enough that it wouldn't raise to many issues. "If I am to be your mouthpiece, do keep in mind there is only so much I can explain. Also, you're late." "You sound irritated." He grumbled. "Christ, you're a Herald... we're not married." "You're... like a damn child! You require constant supervision!" She fumed, approaching him she whispered softly, to prevent any embarrassment. "I woke up in a basin of beer with cheeseburgers smeared in places I didn't even know I had..." Dread chuckled. "Yeah... sorry, can't help ya... I don't remember a damn thing." "You have an appointment, front gate. Genesis Seed. I have to clean this up." She folded her arms, enraged. "You... have a little mustard..." The god reached out to her forehead with his finger to clean a large smudge from her. She batted his hand aside and point to the door. "Out. Seed. Go." Her tone was monotone and laced growing frustration. Twenty minutes later Dread Delgath, God of War, rumbled up to the gates to meet everyone for whatever it was there were supposed to be doing today. Last night was a blur and this morning was quickly becoming one too. Was it actually before noon? He rolled up and cut the engine on Ruin. He dismounted and walked toward them, the motorcycle rolled forward on it's own and drove downward into the ground until it had disappeared into small ember filled trail. "Woah, did you guys miss a good time." His devilish smirk told them there was nothing 'good' about it. "Man, totally got my Anakin on last night. I was slaying Yeunglings right and left. Damn did we celebrate. Good times. Didn't see you guys there... at a celebration... for the men and women who keep this place safe and sacrifice their lives doing it..." He gave them a judgemental glare and a smirk. "Shame, that."
  5. Well, she could sing, he had to give her that. He considered maybe suffixing his sentences with '...among other things', juuuuust in case people he introduced himself to couldn't quite surmise 'War God' hinted that skilled at things like killing, and war after he mentioned he was an avid equestrian. Aurea, aside from being obviously bat-shit crazy, seemed the prime example why he didn't get along well with people. She always seemed to want to state the obvious but tried to be coy and fell way short of the mark. They're Courtesians... they fulfill desires. It was in the name. He got it. Her being on stage didn't leave them much time to mingle, talk, get to know each other or introduce him to people. These were strange gods, indeed. He wasn't sure if they were all insane control freaks or showing off, or blatant attention whores. They had to be in the middle of everything, the center of attention at all times. From outside the restaurant the skull on Ruin's handlebars bobbed up and down, flames sputtering in the mocking pattern of laughter. His mount could pick up on his anxiety and reservations, and found the shared thoughts hilarious. The mighty war god picked up two bottles of whiskey locking them between his fingers and walked outside for a moment. "You," he said to the 'horse' while twisting off a cap. "Can kiss my ass. I'm nothing like these... city gods." All Ruin did was whinny and neigh, which sounded like the whirring of air flow and demonic churning from where in the engine that echoed to the skull. "I'm not an attention whore," he said flatly. He turned up the bottle as the lid of the gas tank popped up with a hiss, brownish vapor that wreaked of rust and blood billowed out. He poured in the whiskey, leaving the bottle in the hole to drain. It went slowly instead of all going in at once, like Ruin was taking it shot by shot. "I'm an egomaniac. There's a difference. Smart ass." "Your... horse, drinks whiskey?" Came a soft voice from behind him. He turned to notice Sydney, the caravan girl he'd claimed as his prize for today. In the hour since he'd cleaned the place out and got the party started the Courtesans had cleaned her up nicely. She had little to no makeup and like him, was in nothing but a denim pants and a black tank top. Without the the dust of the caravan road she was even more radiant. She realized he glaring. "S-sorry, I should not have interrupted you, apologies my lord." "Ruin drinks more than me," he replied. His lips turned to the slightest hint of a smirk. "And I'm not your lord. A war god can not rule, he must remain neutral in all things. War doesn't take a side, it favors those who have trained, prepared, and whose cause is more fervently worth dying for. You're more suited for this city life than I am. You will be my mouthpiece here in the Arcology. You will bring my way, my teachings, my training, to the weak." "If that is your will," she said calmly, swallowing hard as his steely gaze seemed enough to open wounds. "It is my request, and you've the right to refuse," he approached her, draping his arm over her as he led her back inside to the party. Ruin gurgled and neighed, flashing his headlight eyes on the second bottle on Dread's hand. "Hell no. You get one, I'm going through another morning like last month." "Last month?" Sydney looked up at him. "Oh, it got hammered. Found it swerving side to side, trying to drag race old wrecked cars that hadn't worked in years. Talking shit after it blew em' off the line, demanding pink slips. It was embarrassing and fucking hilarious all at once." With a nod of the head he ushered back inside. He turned and pointed a finger at Ruin. "Take that slow, and behave. If I find you causing problems, I'm trading you in for a crotch rocket." They re-entered the party and he raised his arms high, praising his guests of honor: the soldiers of he Legion and the caravans surviving guards. "Shots!" He yelled.
  6. The game plan is simple. Dread needs dominion to invest in his power structure. He won't actually be a war god until 3rd level, when the Word becomes his. Once this whole Genesis Seed business is taken care of, he will go to Eden, Arizona. If occupied, he will conquer it. Once there he will rename it to Warrior's Rest and begin scouring the land in every settlement for the bravest and most skilled warriors and women and men who have the potential to be great. He will gather them at Warrior's Rest and begin training them to be an unstoppable army. The city will expand and more will be trained, until there is no one qualified to train (eliminating weakness in his people, and among the populace once the conquering begins). Once he hits 3rd level and acquires the Word of War he will begin to sweep across the country side, moving West first, conquering every settlement, village, and 'kingdom' that he and his forces encounter. Those who do not wish to fight will be given the option to include him as part of their worship, or have it be done by force. Until everyone, everywhere recognizes him, The Rider, as their war god, he will not stop. He'll sweep up the west coast, conquering everything in his path and eventually sweep East until the entirety of North America wholly understands and accepts that his teachings and his writings on war and combat are the penultimate faith when it comes to warring and efficient destruction of one's fellow man. Warrior's Rest will eventually be upgraded to 'New Sparta', a city where only the finest and most blessed of the Delgathian faith are permitted to reside. A place where every citizen is a soldier, and when called upon to do battle is the most capable fighting force in the multiverse. Profit. Repeat as necessary upon other continents until Dread is love, Dread is life.
  7. "To do what is right, what is easy, or what is necessary," Dread said softly, less to anyone in particular and more to anyone with ears keen enough to pick it up. "The greatest war humanity wages is within each and every one of these hearts. Castles crumble, kingdoms fall, but humanity never stops fighting, when this arcology long falls to dust, it is I who will still hold dominion." That thought pleased him. He ringed his fingers together and blew loudly an ear piercing whistle that instantly caught everyone's attention. There, in the doorway, stood the god this establishment and one could almost hear a record scratch in the background as the music stopped and everyone fell silent. He didn't bother introducing himself, why should he? It was his temple. "Well, what do you think?" Aurea practically cooed. "I think they're drinking my beer," he grunted. It was hard to tell if he was joking. "Alright, listen up. You all have twenty minutes to eat, and GTFO. We're having a private party this evening and rest assured, not a single one of you qualify for the guest list. In this hall, we honor warriors and tonight we will honor the women and men who protect you and watch over. Do them the courtesy of clearing as swiftly as possible and I'll do you the courtesy of not tossing you out myself." There was a sudden and swift river of people gathering their belongings and heading for the door, most didn't bother finishing their food. He could sense it on the air, a scent a feeling, a sensation. In one of the booths not far from the entrance an older gentleman, missing three finger on his left hand, sat patiently waiting to leave as people waded past where he sat. Dread never met the man before, but knew he'd lost those fingers in Gary's Legion... fighting and defending what was important to him: the Arcology. The man sighed, shaking his head at the clamor and rush of people disturbing his meal. With surprise he looked up as Dread's massive hand rested gently on his shoulder. "You, Old Timer, are welcome to stay. You have served your time and will want for nothing this evening, in my hall." The gentleman nodded, patting the god's hand. "You honor me, Rider. Thank you, I accept." Delgath looked to Aurea. "Nymph... find a band. I wanna piss the neighbors off..."
  8. "Great," Dread said with all the gruff of a dusty wastelander. He shrugged at Sota. "Build yourself an arm to pat yourself on the back, cuz I sure ain't gonna." He uncrossed his arms and took a few steps forward, breathing deeply, then he chuckled. "'Near-Utopia'? This place is far from it. Content is what these people are, sure, but I can smell the conflict in the air. These people are weak. A gilded cage is still a cage... they want more than what they have, more than what you provide. Most are content, sure, but you have a way to go before this place is anything close to a 'near-utopia'. The more you give, the more they'll take. The more they'll want." "Politics. Greed. Corruption. Welcome to 'civilization'..." he air quoted. "Ah well, your problem, not mine." "Now... someone show me to my drinking hall."
  9. His eyes fixed upon the utter mess that was all these people living in seclusion and isolation. The vastness of the cityscapes and the clutter of everything was enough to churn his stomach. "Hmph," he scoffed. "What a shit hole."
  10. I've got nothing. Ready to move forward when you are. I don't see any reason to acknowledge the change. She appeared, shouted a ton of profanities, then opened fire on a crowd of people... it's safe to say she was loony.
  11. The battle was concluded, it was time for celebration. Sure, Genesis seeds and pantheons were all well and good, and worshipers were great too... but, well, who wasn't worshiping him already? He was tall, cut, good looking, had a regular job and his own transportation... he was amazing and was pretty sure the world knew that. Bout damn time he had a statue in his honor anyway. When Gary spoke over the noise Dread's smile grew big and his greeting even larger. "Haha! Death! My fellow Rider, I thought that was you creeping in towards the end there!" He threw out his arms and gripped Gary in a tight embrace, lifting him off the ground before setting back in place and smacking him a few times on the back. He waved his hand dismissively at Gary comment about talking gems. "Bah, are you still hung up on that? We lived, they didn't. And the battle was glorious! Once we get all this Pantaloon stuff cleared up we need to catch up at the celebration. There will be drinking, and sex, and feasting and sex, and," he paused, looking around as if he had not idea what to add to that (and there were pretty sure he didn't). "And telling of deeds," came a soft voice from the crowd. It was the dark haired woman The Rider had set his sights on in the first place; his 'prize'. Truth be told he saw her in the window of the bus and just thought she was amazingly hot and maybe would get to know her better. There was just an army of beasts between her and him. He had no intentions of helping any of these people, let alone claiming his rightful place as a god... he just wanted to impress a hottie and get laid. "Yes!" Dread bellowed, it seemed he was rarely silent and whispering was a foreign concept to him.. "We'll tell of our deeds," he wrapped an arm around Gary, pulling him in to be partner in the war god's mirth. "And conquests. It will be glorious!" He raised his fist into the air and several of his new 'Delgathians' threw their hands in the air and cheered. He leaned into Gary, "...and sex." As if to not leave the sentence punctuated without the proper amount of events, plus sex.
  12. Ruin halted at the head of the caravan as Dread noticed no one seemed quite as anxious as him to leave and move on to better things, like booze, women, stories and women and booze. The chime seemed to punch him in the ear holes as he winced and stuck in a finger, wiggling it around in a vain attempt at clearing out the noise. As one may have guessed... it didn't work. "Uhh," he looked around for the disembodies mechanical voice. "I'm Dread Delgath... I just said that, like twenty seconds ago... to her." He pointed at he mounted fae on her unicorn. "I want, uhh... titties and beer. Not, like... my own tits, but like, someone with really amazing tits to bring me beer." He dismounted Ruin and walked towards the gem, wading slowly through people as he did, making room for himself to get closer as the Fae girl spewed a million questions at it. "All kinds of beer. And uhh, that last question... wow, that's a uh, doozie. I mean, why are any of us here, really? I mean, ain't we been asking ourselves that question since we could ask questions?" "Why have it explained to you?" He said to Sigil, whom he towered over. She was majestic and radiant to his primal... dimness. "If you can't understand it without an explanation, then you certainly won't understand the explanation," he said to her with all the charm and courtesy she expected from a man like him. "Sure!" He said a loud to the voice. "Set us up a Pantheon. A Genesis Seed sounds like something I could have some fun with."
  13. "Dread Delgath." He replied in his standard deep tones. He chuckled inwardly, but visibly. "Sure, y'got the right amount of leather, way too many colors though... holy shit..." There was no doubt in his mind that she was quite possibly the most gorgeous woman he'd ever set his eyes up, and he'd taken many beautiful women to bed. If there was one thing he'd learned about beautiful women: they were all crazy. The prettier, the crazier. Which stood to reason that Aurea was moon mad and all marbles and conkers. Ruin revved, spewing a gout of fire and a demonic 'whinnie' of a horse was softly hidden in the grumble. "Yeah, yeah... I know exactly what not to stick into crazy, thanks." He patted the gas tank again, gripped the handlebars and with a twist of the throttle Ruin's wheels exploded into brilliant flame and the mount sped off, kicking dirt and rock and fire. "We ride!" He sped off to the front of the newly formed 'caravan', without taking the lead on what were possibly the luckiest mortal people in all the wastelands, for the sort of entourage they gained this day was the sort that only the wealthiest kings of the New World could dream of.
  14. Not to shake off what Aurea said to Dread, but she wandered off to talk about the stone, so I considered her words more 'casual' than 'conversation starter'. So I chose to simply let her words stand and move on, maybe revisit them later. Didn't want it to feel like he simply ignored her, because he didn't. I just moved the moment past her words and into the moment with the stone and possibly leaving before the monsters came back. Oh, and those playing the home game, Dread was abandoned in the wastes when he was 6 and never given a formal education... so expect his ideas of what the world was like 24 years ago, before the Apocalypse, to drastically different from what so called 'historians' say. He's seen all the archived footage about the laser sword knights and the dinosaur theme park, and those 'Avengers' guys... Don't believe their lies... it was all true.
  15. "Well," the big guy turned his shoulders, as if to loosen the muscles and stretch away the fray. "My guess is she got it from the island of dinosaurs. That's how they're made. Little amber stones like that. Saw it in a documentary about a theme park once. Might be 'Aw-Strahl-Lean', he said, trying to sound out the word Australia from memory with a bit of an Aussie accent. "It's an uncivilized land, full of monsters, where women roar and the men are thunder." "Also, might wanna walk while you talk. Ain't nothing stopping those things from regrouping. Ruin!" He circled his fingers and whistled loudly. From the earth his motorcycle rose up like a shark from the ocean. Like water, the ground gave way and simply 'pushed' the bike up at an angle like it was driving on buried ramp that lead to the surface and with a spurt of flame and a howl misery, the Rider's 'steed' slowly drove itself to it's master's side. Several of the caravan guards still present made symbols of warding or gestures to their faiths as the chopper thrummed slowly past them. The Rider was never was never viewed as an evil 'demigod' but he was certainly not well liked. Fickle as the winds he was as likely to ruin a settlement as he was to save... they just never knew why and simply viewed him as a harbinger of War and... Ruin. He mounted the chopper, swinging his leg over the seat and sat back getting comfortable. The ghastly contraption wailed and revved, spouting gouts of flame from the metallic skull's nostrils. He smirked and patted the gas tank. "Next time, Old Friend. Next time." He looked to them. "We should be off, perhaps jib-jab about this at the 'Arc'?"
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