Jezebelle sighs while turning to Liriiestil.
"Well... it appears clear to me that, invited or not, other gods would be able to access anyway, like our inventor here" Said Jezebelle pointing at Lagdorn with the palm of her hand.
"Not that I do mind that. Although, a little advance notice would be appreciated." the goddess of passions smiled at Lagdorn.
"But nonetheless I believe I have created all this not a moment too soon. Seems like Yidhra may claim power over dreams, and I simply cannot trust her with that. I'd rather retain control of this place, even if I have to fight and get hurt for it, than having it replaced with a maddening realm of bizarre nightmares. Would have been a better idea to wait for Yidhra to create a place like this? I believe is best for everyone that I made it first. You, and pretty much everyone else will have a better time negotiating with me for every kind of influence you would like to have in here than doing the same with Yidhra."
Jezebelle concentrates to bring all the pieces of that dream back in a pristine state.
"Would you really pass the chance to let your creatures dream? You should know that if your power ever becomes too strong you will no longer be able to walk among the mortals, the material plane makes it hard to manifest too much power. This could be one of the few places where you would be able to still communicate with them..."
Almost as if in answer, a pair of raven-headed beings approach the counsel of gods in Onrica, one male, one female.
"Mighty Jezebelle, we bear a message for you from our Judge and Master, Melehan, the Final Arbiter."
Jezebelle smiles seeing the two figures approaching.
She puts a hand to her heart and perform a little bow with her head.
"Then you are more than welcome." says the goddess waiting to know the words of the final arbiter.
"He has a proposal for you. For now, he must decline your offer to abandon the gods of the North and join you and Aeon, as one of their number has faded, and he now must shoulder more of her duties. He has, however, noticed your creation of this realm, and is intrigued. He asks your permission for his people, the Sidhe, and the men of the North, to enter Onrica. Moreover, he is interested in a "merge" or "link" between your two realms, so the dead and the living may meet again in dreams. Furthermore, he asks if you would be interested in sharing some of your grace and beauty with the Sidhe. For now, the people of the North stuggle and survive, but their lives are bleak and artless. He feels your touch may be the spark they need to enrich their lives. As a token of his goodwill, he presents to you a gift: us. We are hardworking custodians of the dead, and would be willing to facilitate the meetings of dead and living in this realm, and will serve you well."
The pair alternate between each other as they speak, finishing each other's sentences. Clearly the crow-headed, winged beings had been twins in life.
Far away from everything, Yidhra slept, away from the realm of dreams and all it contained. As for what her own dreams were like, well... who knew? She didn't view things in the ways that others did, and even she may not have been able to predict what her thoughts would be. So she calmly waited, gathering power and getting ready for when the time would be right to awaken once more.
From the fogs of the dreamworld a few thrones emerge, summoned by Jezebelle will. Thrones of pinkish thick fog, one for herself and every guest present. They are fluffy and supple but remarkably able to support the weight of a humanoid.
The goddess listen to the messengers with interest.
"this plane shapes around the dreamers based on their emotions. it's not rare that dreamers see their deceased here. Of course they are nothing but illusions. Projections of their own memories.
I have no problem with letting the actual dead manifest themselves in dreams, but I would like to supervise that.
I don't want them to have any power upon the dreamers, and I don't want them to have easy access to the dreams whenever they feel like it.
If I did, soon all the dreams would be nothing but ancestors patronizing their descendants and bitter spirits tormenting the living.
Also, I wonder if Melehan realizes that the dead would be able to reveal details about the life beyond to the mortals. I don't know if it is already his intention, but I think he has to evaluate that as well.
We will have to work on details but sure.. I'm ok with the general idea.
As I am ok with favoring the Sidhe and the northmen with my grace.
What I may have a problem with is you two." said Jezebelle in a serious tone.
"I won't allow you to serve me as a gift from Melehan.
You either choose for yourselves and decide that you want to serve me on your own free will or I'll have to refuse Melehan gifts.
I don't own people. I do not gift them to the others, nor do I accept that kind of gifts from anyone."
Jezebelle rises from her throne
"now.. you should head back to Melehan and tell him that I agree to his requests and I wait for him, in person, to define some few details.
Meanwhile, you should ask yourself if serving me is what you really want. If you do, I would gladly accept you as my children.
If you don't, I will make sure that Melehan knows that I refused your services, in a way that doesn't make you look bad."
"He suspected you'd say these things. Fear not. Onrica is your house, it will follow your rules. As to our service, we will let him know, but I suspect he will release us to follow you anyway. We were interested in this place the minute you made it. We will return when we have relayed your message and secured our release. I am Meddwl. And I am Cof."
The Norther words for thought and memory...appropriate names for dream dwellers...
Power continued to gather within the mad deity of paradoxes as time passed within the normal realm, and she smiled as she relaxed on her pillow, dreaming of the many things to come. Who could say how everything would end, except a god that knew the future? But then, paradox made everything and nothing possible. Moving without movement. Acting without action. Ends without beginnings. All of it was within her, waiting for the right time.
Lir allows the two servants of Melehan to conduct their business with Jez, then replies to her last comment towards him "While dreaming is a form of communication with our mortal races, it is not the only form. Visions, minor manifestations, divine messengers, there's plenty of ways to commune with one's followers. Besides, while I might make it so my entire race does not dream, I can still have one of them dream as I desire to sent him or her a message."
Jezebelle have things sorted out in Onirica.
She entrusted Meddwl and Cof with keeping the plane organized, as the two of them would certainly be more able to deal with that kind of precise planning. Being former guardians of the dead they now do oversee on the visits the dead may pay to the living.
The goddess looks at her creation with pride.
"I prepared the perfect playing ground for you my daughters... soon I will entrust you with all that."
The goddess caressed her pregnant belly.
The father... raw desire.. erotic dreams.. all the sexuality every single mortal brought into her realm siphoned as undiluted magical energy.
It would not be a common conception. She was about to give birth by the thousands, born out of erotic dreams and the womb of the goddess of sin.
It would be scandalous and glorious at the same time.
-3 Gain Domain: Magic [ritual magic]
As she continued to dream her mad dreams, Yidhra quietly smiled, feeling divine power continuing to gather within her body. Endless growth and change was something she could appreciate, and it wouldn't be long until she grew even greater and perhaps woke to shower the world with her... attention. Yes, all things needed to change, one way or another. Even her.
Melehan observes how the North has changed during his time as its sole god. The men of the tribes were intermingling with the more urban Sidhe, learning from one another. Melehan felt he'd been idle long enough.
He focuses his energies, having built a massive backlog of power from building his realm. When he focuses again, his power over death and the dead has increased. The dead will stay dead, if he has anything to say about it.
Soon the North would come into contact with Jezebelle's and Aeon's dominions, and their very way of life would be challenged. He decides that he must stand as an example to them to stand firm against soft or degenerate behavior. He becomes as stolid as the very metal he wielded.
He gathers more power into himself, adding to this stern, implacable visage a reasonable kindliness that helps the people of the North to look up to him. Azdan has gone so far into the dark that Melehan can no longer see him. Oenar has wandered into the winter winds, and Melehan can no longer hear her howls. He was all that was left for the people of the North. He WAS the North.
With this new understanding, Melehan focuses his influence among the faithful, both among the Sidhe and men. He urges them to unify their disparate peoples, to become stronger as one than they could be together. But then he sees one that is different. He is bastard born, blood of Sidhe and man. The perfect scion to bring the two together. He begins to whisper to this man in dreams, learning his name: Cynomelin. Cynomelin, the Hound of Melehan, urged by his god, became a mighty warrior and skilled diplomat, earning the respect of his peers and forging a small kingdom in the North: Aremor. Aremor became a beacon to the rest of the North, and it soon grew and expanded to become a dominant force in the region.
Finally, Melehan inspired Cynomelin to create an elite guard of warriors that would stand as the greatest heroes of Aremor, first into battle and last to retreat, paragons of virtue and honor, always watchful for evil in the North to strike down. They dedicated their faith to Melehan, acting as judges and arbiters where they were needed. And when the dead rose, they struck them back down. These men and Sidhe soon would become legends equal to their king. They were the greatest. They were the most vigilant. They were the Caliburnai, the Swords of Power.
-5 AP (Vigilance?): Gain Ability (Immovable Object)
-5 AP (The North): Gain Ability (Mortal Shepherd)
-2 AP (War): Raise Hero (Cynomelin, the Hound of Melehan and first High King of the North)
0 AP: Form Society (The Kingdom of Aremor)
-2 (Vigilance): Form Order (The Caliburnai, the North's first order of paladins)
3 AP remaining
Winter is coming... to the rest of the world. Yidhra mused as she yawned widely and stretched, slowly waking up. She'd laid all the preparation work before, so...
Change. the Goddess of Paradoxes thought, gathering ever more divine power within herself. As she reappeared within the universe, the fabric of reality itself seemed to scream as an entity even greater and more powerful than before appeared within it, rising up through the ranks of the gods.
The Goddess of Paradoxes simply rolled around and laughed as her desires came to fruition - she was creator and destroyer, raising and destroying in ways that other gods would have to work much harder to match. Anything and everything was ultimately something she could be, and that was just the way she liked it. Right, then. She still had a whole world to play with, right? Time to see what else could be done.
Erande watched the back and forth between the various gods, wondering how much longer it would be until there was warfare again. He watched Yidhra gain more power, and wondered what the portended.
Turning his face from the gods, Erande thought about the state of things: several new gods had appeared, and each had changed the world in different ways. Several of the older gods had gone quiet, or were moving about unseen.
Erande began working on his epic, the story of Kargoth of the Indar and his quest to claim the sword of kings, Heroe's Song.
Aeon strode the heavens picking a rolling hill that touched the clouds from which to view the mortals. He looked down into the great city of Lighthall where Leona the Grandmaster was queen and the paladins ruled.
Leona sat at the council in castle gold. A circular table that the commanders of the paladins sat at along with several provincial leaders and mayors. Ruling this land was easy, all worshiped in the temple of Aeon, all help and toiled, Paladins protected the people from the few threats there were, no one went hungry and no one perpetrated violence.
The sword of hosts sat at her hip and Leona felt a heavenly presence, felt her God looking down. She said a silent prayer.
While the original form of Jezebelle was still pregnant in the dreamworld, the dark haired aspect of her who absorbed as well all that Oniric power was literally glowing with energy. That form had a connection with Jezebelle, it was in fact the same Jezebelle, but she had no life to nurture.
All that power was absorbed by her.
Looking at the creation she felt like creation itself was rejecting that much power.
Among the Jezites life proceeded as usual, but the goddess herself was no longer seen among the mortals.
Only in their dreams they caught glimpses of their goddess.
The Jezites priests were worried, afraid to lose their special connection with the goddess they organized a great ceremony to pray for the goddess to return to them.
As they prayed and prayed, Jezebelle managed to keep her power under control enough to allow her existence in the material world without damaging the creation.
after years of absence, Jezebelle appeared once again to the Jezites and walked the earth among them
-5 Ascend to intermediate goddess
-5 Gain ability: Cloaked in Wanderlust
Jezebelle scanned people desires and dreams all over the onirica.
She was starting to know the mortals well, starting to know their lives, their desires, their motivations.
Starting to tell the difference between a dream of pure imagination and recollections of true events.
And once in a while she made changes...
Taking the little corners of the dreamworld apart from the others and putting them together, stacking them close in the complex morphic geography of Onirica. And she was watching them. Watching them in their sleep, and watching them awake when they walked near a mirror or even just calm water.
Meddwl and Cof sensed it too, as they had previous experience judging souls. There was something odd in the people she amassed on that area of the plane.
But they were not as concerned to the souls Jezebelle was watching, they were more concerned with her.
Her pregnancy was in no way common.
She gained a truly outrageous size, even though her beauty was somehow not diminished by it in the slightest, the effect on her were clear. She had trouble breathing, and certainly was not able to move at all.
The grand metaphysical details of a goddess of femininity pregnancy were unclear to them, maybe unclear even to Jezebelle herself. She was probably able to birth new life in a mere instant and without the minimal discomfort or danger for her physical self.
But then why was this happening to her?
They wondered if Jezebelle was somewhat losing her power and gaining some sort of mortal fragility.
The only other theory is that whatever Jezebelle was breeding was powerful enough or numerous enough to cause even a goddess this kind of discomfort.
Then the most unnerving thing started, the change.
Horns started to sprout from Jegebelle's head, tails and wings form her back. She started to take upon the form of what she was breeding, but then again, even with all this changes Jezebelle would not appear less beautiful than she was before.
On day Meddwl saw Jezebelle with a dreamer.
Just in time to see her touch him, a hand on his shoulders, her lipson his lips. they just touched them, she did not pressed them or anything... and life abandoned that dreamer immediately.
Jezebelle's body was starting to breed more life than she was even capable of giving.
Soon the day has come.
Jezebelle was about to give birth... but she wanted nobody with her to help her out.
Unable to walk she floated with her divine powers deeper and deeper into the onirica, there was a thick forest there, maybe collected from every forest ever dreamed, or maybe those trees where thousands of dreams of the three themselves. Nobody asked Jezebelle at that time, and nobody really knew as much about how things worked in there.
But Jezebelle disappeared in there, after warning everybody to not enter the forest.
And she did not emerge.
Not for a long time at least.
Some disobeyed after a while... entered the forest searching for Jezebelle.
They never returned.
And while nobody else tried to enter they could see something disconcerting.
The forest itself was dying from the center.
The forest was quickly consumed, but nobody heard from Jezebelle.
Until one day... the goddess came back. And she was not alone.
She had a veritable army of creatures whose beauty seemed to be almost mindbending.
She lead them through Onirica to the place where she started to amass all those dreams together.
"Here they are"she said"I will not give you rules on who you may feed upon, nor I will tell you if you have to spare their lives or erase them completely. But as I offer you your first true meal I wanted to offer you those who's lives I don't value at all.
Abusive parents and spouses.
Hypocritical moralists and prudes.
Defilers of beauty."
The succubi did accept Jezebelle invitation eagerly.
Their existence was fueled by Jezebelle itself until now, but that was not enough anymore, and aside from that, they really relished that gift...
they invaded the dreams, they tormented the dreamers, they shook their minds and soul, some of them were cruel, some were just controlling and dominating, the mortal dreamers were completely overwhelmed.
Some relished their moments, some repented for their ways, some were made miserable but in the end, all of them were destroyed.
Not killed... nothing that simple, the succubi drained their energy from the dream and consumed their very soul.
There was no afterlife left for them, no judgement, the succubi devoured their soul, made them part of them and when they wanted to, simply erased even that faint echo floating inside of them.
After their meal, Jezebelle sat among them, as a mother would, telling about their future and their potential.
"you will be irresistible to them, you can feed on them little by little, or you can utterly consume them. and even then, their soul will still live forever within you if you allow them.
You may carry on their dreams, their memories, their emotions.
or you can utterly destroy them. Never to return to existence again.
Now my daughters, you are free to go. You can live here or roam in the world of mortals. But wherever you chose to live, you will always find me ready to take care of you.
You are my daughters, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you"
-5 Create legendary life: Succubi
Meddwl and Cof did not need to inform Melehan of this event. They were not his spies, and he had explicitly informed them that should they choose to serve Jezebelle that they owed him no such courtesy. The psychopomps in Melehan's service did not need to inform him, though they certainly voiced their surprise and anger at what had happened. There was very little in the mortal realm and godly that escaped Melehan's notice, and the emergence of the succubi was something that had profoundly affected the order of things.
And where the order of things was concerned, Melehan was concerned.
He did not angrily barge into Jezebelle's presence this time, not like when she had brought the vampires into being. He was an older and wiser god now, at least in his own mind. Instead, he sent Artioa, his Black and White Warden, his second-in-command, to the Onrica with a simple message: We need to talk.
Jezebelle, now returned into her perfect form appeared in the Amaranthine.
She did not know the reason of his request, but she surely could guess.
It wasn't the first time mehelan had issues with her creations.
She didn't knew if it was because they were once again a species that predates on humans or if it ìs because they were consuming souls and removed them from his judgement.
possibly both.
As she called for Melehan she wondered.
Would the next few hours spell the end of peace among gods?
Liriiestil wandered the world, roving through the forests, trekking across swamps, climbing up mountains. Exploring anywhere and everywhere he could.
There lacked much life on this new planet, especially ones connected with the natural world. He would remedy this, as he learned long ago that such beings helped nurture the world into becoming something greater.
He secreted himself away in the deepest, darkest parts of one of the great primeval forests, and there he began crafting his race.
For a body, he fashioned a skeleton made of the thick oak branches. This would grant them incredible durability and strength. Veins were made from strants of mithral, giving them an extraordinary flexibility. He made the skin out of sand from the depths of the ocean, blown into glass, granting his creation an almost other worldly beauty. He infused their lungs with the purest of air from the highest of mountaintops, so that they could be as quick as a spring breeze, or as violent as a tempest storm.
Finally, he breathed a divine flame into them, granting them life, and a burning passion to live that life to the fullest.
Thus were born the Lirthari, the children of the elements, his people.
-5AP Create Legendary Life: Lirthari. Domains: Earth, Air, Fire, Water.
Melehan sits before Jezebelle, his throne an elegant work of art that looks more like it was grown from the living rock rather than shaped by human or godly hand. He looks different than the last time they spoke, harder and rougher, like a grim Norther king. Artioa stands at his side, regarding Jezebelle disdainfully. Was it anger? Jealousy? She certainly seemed less pleased than her master was at Jezebelle's presence.
"Artioa, leave us."
"With all due respect, my Lord, I believe I should be present for this. In the interests of my duties."
"Your duty at the moment is to stand judgment in my absence. This requires my undivided attention."
"With all due respect, I feel you'll need an objective second opinio-"
"You are afraid Jezebelle will attempt to decieve me. No. That is not her way. She may be proud of her figments and fancies, but outright lies? She knows that the truth is far more passionate and rewarding than any lie."
"And will she be "passionately rewarding" you for going-"
"Enough, Artioa. Tend to the judgments."
"Yes, Final Arbiter."
Artioa leaves the room. Melehan shifts in his throne and regards Jezebelle with a stern, yet sad look.
"Welcome once again, Jezebelle. Let me first congratulate you on your new children. Motherhood becomes you, makes you appear more radiant. Unfortunately, that fact is why I have called you here. The birth of the succubi has caused a significant disturbance here in the Amaranthine."
Jezebelle stands silent. Still and dignified as expected from a goddess such as her, all while Artioa was giving her the evil eye and protesting.
As Artioa leaved and Mehelan started talking her divine composure eventually started to crumble, until she erupted into a hearty laughter.
"I..I am sorry I shouldn't... But was your minion suggesting you would be corrupted by me? I can't see if that would me more flattering to me or offensive to you..."
Jezebelle recomposed herself.
This time was beyond dignified. She was grim.
"As soon as you called for me I knew it was for the succubi.
You can point out the problem you have with them, and we will see if there is any agreement we can reach.
I trust I do not need to tell you what my daughters represent to me, nor how far I would be willing to go if I feel they are being threatened.
So I don't have to tell you to tread lightly."
"Jezebelle, you are the single-most beautiful being in this entire universe. Anyone could be tempted by you, as evidenced by the fondness Azdan seemed to hold for you. And part of me has to wonder if Artioa's protests had some element of projection to them. Take from that what you will."
He nods as she speaks.
"To the point then: your daughters have the ability to consume the soul of a living being entirely, extinguishing its spark forever. As my very first acts in the creation of our new home were fashioning new souls for these new mortals, and judging them after they left their worldly bodies, the power the succubi possess is definite cause for alarm. However, it is less this power that I am alarmed by, but rather the lack of responsibility you've placed upon them in using it. Much like the vampire queens that rule your worshipers, they may choose to abstain and feed only to survive, targeting the most reprehensible mortals you can name, or to glut themselves constantly, not caring if their victims are kings, beggars, mothers or children."
"Understand that I have no designs on your freedoms or license to do as you wish. I hold no more authority in your pantheon than you do in mine. But also understand that this has grown beyond my will. My people are frightened of the succubi. There are even those among YOUR people that fear the night now, terrified that if one of your daughters arrives, they may not even be able to take a place at your side after death. And the psychopomps who serve me grow restless and angry as the souls they are supposed to calm and escort are devoured and extinguished."
He stands and descends to meet her at the floor, showing himself not as a high and mighty lord, but an equal.
"I have at least one idea as to how we may be able to reconcile this, but it is probably not the best, and it would be inherently restrictive, as things in my realm are wont to be. I am a god of order, and my solutions tend to involve rules and strictures, something that would no doubt be intolerable to you, but would break the promise you made to your children, and I have no intention of forcing you to break that promise. Walk with me."
He leads her out of the Last Tribunal, and across the Amaranthine's smooth, purple plains. He stops at a great gaping chasm cut into the rock, that seems to go down forever. Every so often some soul manages to climb out, while many more are cast in by psychopomps overhead.
"The Pit of Perdition. The final destination of those I've judged to be the worst in our world. It is a prison, but I meant it to be a prison that can be escaped from. What it takes is a thorough examination of one's life, realizing their mistakes and their wrongdoings, and truly, deeply, feeling regret for them. This allows the damned soul to climb and escape the Pit, at which point they can remain on the Plain in peace or pursue the higher mysteries and attempt to scale the Peak of Paradise. But...sadly, that hasn't quite turned out as I planned."
He leads her down into the Pit, which becomes a lot clearer as their eyes become acclimatized to the darkness. The Pit seems a lot larger inside than out. The walls have miles and miles of tunnels and ledges where the damned could be seen, though they seemed unaware of the gods' presence. Jezebelle saw many scenes of torment and wickedness, but there was one thing that surprised her. There were no psychopomps here. The souls of the evil dead were torturing and dominating each other.
"There are two kinds of damned here. The weak who are too cowed to seek redemption, and the strong, who enjoy the strife they cause so much that they don't WANT to leave. Some of the worst tyrants have started forming small fiefdoms of their own down here, and this is a place of punishment. The rewards one should seek down here is the ability to leave, to redeem themselves. My proposal is this: You have already granted the dead permission to visit the Onrica to speak with the living, what if I extended the same hospitality to the succubi? Allowed them here into the Pit, where they would need not fear the consequences of extinguishing the souls down here? I know many in the Pit are the same kinds of monsters you said were your favored targets for punishment of your own. The Pit is never empty, as evil people die by the thousands every second of every day, Jezite, Indar, Norther, and even Sidhe alike. Your daughters would find them easy prey. Even the most rapacious of the succubi would find themselves sated, perhaps even to the point where it would hurt. But only on one condition: that the only souls they drain on the Amaranthine are here in the Pit. That the minute one crosses the threshold and escapes to the Plain, they are free and not to be pursued, and that those on the Plain and Peak already are not to be harmed. The succubi themselves would be free to come and go as they pleased, do not mistake my offer as a plot to imprison them down here."
"What say you, Jezebelle?"
Jezebelle smiled. She took a deep breath and then spoke.
"It's really not about what I find intolerable, is about what is feasible.
Let's say that they are to feed only in your pit, and let's put aside the fact that it is really not what I meant for them.
How are you going to enforce that?
Because trust me... I am their mother, the dreams are their father.
If you think it will be easy to simply tell them what they are supposed to do and expect them to follow orders, then you have clearly a wrong impression on them.
Unless you are planning some kind of imprisonment under extreme security and surveillance it won't work.
And what you are planning would not be controlling succubi, it would be having a race of dogs of the afterlife.
Chained to your cage, with attendants giving them food.
Another route is to punish them when they violate your rule.
Which may or may not suits me depending on how harsh the punishment would be.
But I may have a different Idea that you may find satisfactory."
"First of all you have to understand one thing. Succubi are not rapacious beats that rips men souls away from them against their will.
The victim is always willing.
My daughters took upon my beauty and inherited some of my persuasion.
But aside from that, you underestimate the pleasure they are able to give while plucking a mortal soul.
Some people are more than willing to trade their eternity for that moment of bliss."
Jezebelle bites her lips thinking about it.
"But then again you have to put things in the right perspective.
the men who survive, they survive.
The ones who's soul is plucked and living in a succubus, they are for certain the ones that more than anyone lives at my side. Sharing their experiences with my daughters, feeling what they feel.
And those who are utterly consumed, are those deemed not worthy.
There is really nothing different from what you are trying to enforce.
The only difference is that in this case you are not the judge, they are."
Jezebelle proceeded with her reasoning with a calm and absolutely non threatening tone. almost mellifluous.
"I would like for you to admit it. That the problem here is not what they do, since they are no different from you. But the fact that in this case you have no chance to be Judge, jury and executioner.
They are.
And you feel that your divine mandate and your brand of morality are the only ones entitled to do that.
But hear me out..
You sent me two people who were adept at sorting out souls, and are now pretty knowledgeable about dreams and their creatures.
What if I ask them to try to sort out and recover the devoured souls from the soul of a succubus when she dies.
It would significantly delay the judgement, it won't be easy, and I can tell you, they would probably change in the centuries of being part of a succubus.
But again, isn't your pit supposed to do the same?"
"This I understand. I have no intention of harming the succubi personally. But you must understand that these events just aren't up to me. The sudden competition for mortal souls has made my psychopomp servants angry. Even if I were to deputize Meddwl and Cof the same way I did Artioa, it would not remove this anger. They already think the twins corrupted. They do not know you the way Meddwl and Cof do. In a way, you have "corrupted" my servants, but not quite in ways they expect. They are no longer just broken upon my will. They retain more of their old selves, and have their own desires and opinions, something you showed them was possible. But above all, psychopomps are still beings of duty and responsibility, and almost all of them feel that their very place in the universe is threatened by your daughters. Your proposal has great merit. The time of a soul's judgment means little to me, so long as it occurs. The Sidhe I created may live forever, should they live lives untouched by violence, accident, or simply desiring to let go, but all Sidhe souls stand before their maker eventually. I would have no problem of the souls of those contained within your daughters being released to judgment should their hostess perish. And to be honest, Meddwl and Cof ARE the perfect deputies in that regard. They were faithful to me in life, but always curious, always seeking. That's what led them to you, and that's why they understand you better than any other psychopomp. And why I thought to send them to you as a gesture of goodwill, both at their request and to deal with the increasing complaints the other psychopomps had been making about them."
He chuckles, and sighs a bit.
"We have both known mortality, you and I, though you are far older than I ever could have been, there at the beginning of the Old. I suppose part of my black and white ways is the folly of youth. You've lived long enough to see the gray, and now here? As a god? I know there's far more gray than I could have possibly imagined. Before the Fall I was merely a servant, struggling to enforce Lord Death's edicts and demands and protect the living. Like it or not, those rules were there for a reason. We are born, we flower, we fade, we die. I have never wished to infringe on the freedoms of another, only to help keep the world stable. Understand where I come from, Jezebelle. We are two sides of the same coin, and we and ours must find ways to understand one another or our children will surely come to blows. I have a way I view the world, and in my experience, it was the best way to live. I am sorry that our views are not compatible on a fundamental level..."
Jezebelle smiled with almost motherly love.
"You are right, I AM old. I have seen many universes rise and fall. As a matter o fact, All of them.
I have killed gods before, starting from the one who created me in the first place. I have killed and buried fiends and lovers.
Aeons and aens of existence made me jaded enough to do that without a second thought.
But this...this is not as serious as you fear"
Jezebelle chuckled.
"your psychopomps are angry, I can get it.
Thigs willescalate and soon a psychopomp will try to kill a succubus and put her soul at the bottom of that pit.
Succubi will take revenge on that, or maybe will act first and assault a psychopmpas soon as they hear about their hate. They like tobe little troulemakers.
It's a kid's fight.
and I won't certainly get involved to avenge my daughters if one of your psychopomps manages to kill a succubus.
So let them act upon their anger.
Unless divine power is involved in this, I won't act. As a matter of fact, I will take measures to be sure my girls would never manage to really threaten your psychopomps existence."
Jezebelle smiles coyly
"and do not think I cannot understand your point of view, or that we are too different to coexist.
There are other gods and I like to fool around with them.
but among the gods of this universe here is no one I'm fond of as I am of you.
I would feel lucky to be able to corrupt you the way your servants belive I would."
Melehan blinks in surprise.
"You are...fond of me?"
Jezebelle giggles amused by Melehan reaction.
"You can't tell? my my... for a final arbiter you certainly can't take a hint.
Let's see...
I walked into your realm as soon as you created it and got really upset at you paying all your attentions to Yidhra.
I use blood magic and the vampires to get your attention and ensure you had to come into my boudoir to talk in private.
I offer you to escape the north and invite you in my pantheon.
When your two adorable twins came to me I asked that you came to me to discuss details of my agreement.
And now, as you asked for my presence... here I am.
I could be somewhere else, I have many interest I could pursuit and many things I could enjoy. But I choose to come in the dullness of the Amaranthine as soon as I am summoned.
My dear Melehan. If you cannot tell that, then you and your servants are either lying or wrong about my capability of tempting anyone."
Jezebelle puts on an obviously false pout.
"A younger Jezebelle would have felt slighted by your lack of consideration"
"Slighting you is what I fear. If it is not evident, among the gods of this universe, there is no one I'm afraid of as I am of you. It was an unintended slight that started the conflict between us, which was something I never wanted. You have also amassed power at quite a rapid rate, which I am struggling to keep up with."
His head hangs.
"For all my grand titles and pronouncements of judgment, I am afraid. Afraid of how fragile the state of this world truly is, having lived through the destruction of the old one. That's perhaps why the Amaranthine seems so dull to you. I created it to be stable."
"I see" says Jezebelle lowering her eyes.
"Now I wonder how I should consider your behavior with me. Have you ever been truly friendly? Did you ever understood my point? As when I created the vampires for example? Or were you just yielding out of fear?"
Jezebelle avoids Melehan gaze, lost in her reasoning.
"In all this time I thought you played hard to get every time I flirted with you. That you tried to maintain your divine countenance.
But I see you are unable appreciate it, quivering with fear all you took from my whole speech is that you don't want to slight me.
I am not slighted... but I'm deeply disappointed."
Jezebelle sighs and looks at Melehan with an expression both serious and slightly annoyed.
"so, do we agree on how we should treat this whole succubus-psychopomp rivalry?"
"I do understand what you mean. Fear is only part of the equation. I am...attracted to you. I know that I can't give you orders or control you. That's part of what makes you intriguing. The fear I feel is the same I feel for all the other gods. We exist in a delicate balance, and I confess that I hide in the North to avoid upsetting that balance."
The Lirthari scattered to the four winds, going out among the world. Some flew up to the mountains and took up residence among the tallest peaks in the land. Others dove down into the depths of the sea, swimming with the creatures there, great and small.
Many wandered the land, nomadic, not caring to stay in one place for very long. While some put down roots where ever they felt comfortable, then more or less refused to move.
Meanwhile, still in the heart of the forest where he birthed the Lirthari, Lir himself remained. The massive trees each big enough to hold a small village among their branches, the boundless amounts of creatures from little squirrels and rabbits to giant bears and wolves, the rivers and streams, winding among the immense tree trunk and cascading down hills and over cliffs creating breathtaking waterfalls, all of these and more called to him. He felt at peace here, one with the land, the trees and all animals within. This would be his new home.
He gathered in energy, and bent the world in his immediate surroundings to his will. He wove the foliage into a large mansion, some two or three hundred feet off the ground. It spanned some of the biggest trees, easily covering several acres. He diverted a nearby large stream to pool under and around the villa, so water was easily accessible. He then invited his closest friends among the Lirthari as well as various fauna he was fond of, to dwell within.
-3 AP, Weave Sanctum.
"Have you ever saw a mortal doing anything good living in hiding?"
Asks Jezebelle
The goddess did not change her disappointed face since Melehan previous response.
"If you are so afraid of the consequences you probably shouldn't have acted upon your divine powers at all.
We create worlds. Mistakes will be made, consequences will be paid.
If you don't want to see consequences for your actions you should act like Nihil. Make nothing, set nothing in motion, and ultimately vanish from everyone's sight.
Either way I do not believe this will have an happy ending. That one day we will live in harmony and perfect balance and we will have a world that will exist forever.
This will end badly, for one reason or another we will destroy this universe and a countless more. And finally, one day we will manage to utterly destroy ourselves for good and no god will survive to restart creation once more.
It will be your brother, or someone who will take his place, or something that none of us could have anticipated.
but the end will come.
All that remains is the time we have left before that happens and the creation we have made.
We owe the creation a world worth living in. Cowering in fear of the consequences will not preserve us from the end, not even for one day. All it will do is making you waste the time we have on this universe."
Jezebelle looks at the final arbiter and smiles a little before standing up.
"So. are we good about this incident? Can we consider it settled?"
Melehan waves his hand, and suddenly they're not in the Pit anymore. Now they stand over the North, staring down at the people there.
Under the rule of Cynomelin and protected by his Caliburnai, Aremor now stands as a prosperous realm despite the harsh, wintry land. The people cleverly find ways to break and till the frozen soil, hunt in the Deepwoods and across the taiga, and fish on the icy lakes and chilly sea. At night they feast and laugh and tell stories of their ancestors. And the first log of each hearth is lit with a prayer to the god who stands in the smoke, and takes the souls of their burned dead to their final rest. Though fierce animals and unquiet dead sometimes cause trouble, the North is peaceful.
"Look at them. They keep to themselves. The Jezites and Indars and People want nothing from them, and they want nothing from the South. They live good, honest and dignified lives, and when they die, they do not face it with fear, but understanding that death is only the end of one tale, and the beginning of another. They have swords, but do not turn them on each other. I would say they do plenty of good living in "hiding." For they are content and to them, this is already a world worth living in."
"It's not my idea of hiding but let's pretend that your description fits.
Is this your plan?
To be the one no one wants anything from and that doesn't want anything from anyone else?
Why even bother calling me then?
Well... this is getting boring..."
says Jezebelle sighing.
"I would ask you again if you are good about the incident, but I guess all I would get in return is another Ode to the meek and the fearfulness.
I guess if you have something to tell me you know the way to Onirica, you can meet me there."
Jezebelle turns her back to Melehan ready to disappear and return to her plane when she adds.
"Oh, by the way. when I say you can meet me there, I mean it. It's an invitation to you. if one of your smug servants show himself there instead of you I won't guarantee his safe passage through the dreamlands."
Jezebelle finally disappears.
Returning to Onirica she takes a look at her daughters as they had the chance to grow independent since their birth.
The onirica was no longer just a place of dreams, but a realm into itself for them.
One particular succubus was really prominent in the creation of this succubi society. Her name was Naamah.
Naamah gathered a huge following around her and proclaimed herself queen of the succubi, a title many accepted to address her with but that was hardly uncontested.
Despite not having the same following, another succubus growing in power was Lilidtha.
The only thing keeping her from power over the succubi was an inferiority complex towards Naamah that blinded her from her true potential. She simply couldn't believe she had a following anywhere as big as Naamah's. She suspected traitors among her ranks, for a good reason since she had many on other succubi service working secretly for her. In the end she had more loyal followers murdered than actual enemies.
But while seduction and manipulation was the succubus game, a different kind of succubus arisen. More brazen than the others, she took the challenge for the queen of succubi directly, raising an army of enthralled slaves. Her name was Igrat, and she seemed like fierce competition for the control of Onirica.
And then there was Maskit. Seemingly an underdog of this struggle, she stayed on the sidelines without officially participating. She instead hosted a permanent feast of souls and carnal pleasures she called "the banquet of flesh".
And while the other 3 were openly at each other throats, she started to gain the loyalty of the unsatisfied among every rank.
Many among the dwellers of Onirica wondered if Jezebelle would put an end to this by taking the title of queen for herself or by appointing whoever she wanted to the title.
But that was not Jezebelle's way.
As a matter of fact, she felt like a burden in a matter that should solve by itself.
So she instead escalated the competition by giving all the frontrunners a spark of her power.
Those 4 succubus was then known as the princesses of sin, and nobody speculated about Jezebelle role anymore, the only speculation was if there would be more succubi to ascend to divine power.
-5 Beget Demigod (Naamah: pricess of pride)
-5 Beget Demigod (Lilidtha: pricess of envy)
-5 Beget Demigod (Igrat: pricess of wrath)
-5 Beget Demigod (Maskit: pricess of gluttony)
Melehan frowns as Jezebelle leaves. Did she not understand the value of peace? At any rate, at least she didn't seem angry, which was what he thought she'd be if he intervened.
He remained true to his word by sending sparks of his divinity to Meddwl and Cof, who were quite surprised at this gift. They stayed apart from the conflicts among the succubi.
Then he returned to his palace in the Amaranthine to brood. Was Jezebelle right? Was this peace or complacency? That was what frustrated him most about her: her ability to shake his beliefs and make him wonder if he was right. As a mortal he was so certain, so steadfast. Why was it different now?
-10 Beget Demigods (Meddwl and Cof)
Sometimes it appeared in the mortal dreams, but most of the time dreamers were not able to see the entirety of it or realize what it was.
A huge city was built in the Onirica. A city carved out of what seemed to be pure gold. Dasmareth, the city of dreams, a testament of Naamah's power in Onirica.
Naamah issued an invitation to all the succubi of Onirica to admire her work and implicitly accept their roles as her subjects.
Maskit showed up. Of course she wouldn't miss the occasion to socialize with Naamah's closest followers and turn them to her side.
Naamah was vain but was no fool, she knew what kind of game Maskit was playing.
Igrat showed up too. She didn't care for Naamah's show-off. She planned a show off of her own as she tested Naamah's security.
She was kinda impressed, but nonetheless, no one in Onirica could quite match Igrat skills.
Lilidtha showed up later, in incognito, planning to find some way to ruin Naamaah's celebrations as well.
But that's what the princess of pride was waiting for all along.
As all the succubi of importance gathered on Onirica, Naamah asked for everyone attention as she started her very own coronation as queen of Onirica.
All in the room immediately realized was this was all about.
It was an open challenge.
For Igrat, Maskit and Lilidtha to attend at Naamah coronation without venting out some for of objections would look like acceptance.
But at the same time.. an alliance between the three was unthinkable, as any single one of them distrusted each other.
Naamah hoped that no one would step up in fear of becoming the target of the other two.
Hopefully for them something completely unexpected happened.
The whole power of Onirica violently shifted sending ripples through the whole plane just a moment before the celebrant could put the crown on the head of Naamah.
Everyone in the room knew what that was.
It was Jezebelle, her power growing and sending ripples of greatness and blood through Onirica.
She probably didn't intended to interrupt Naamah coronation, it just happened at the same time.
When the event stopped the room fell in complete silence, after a moment of hesitation the celebrant finally put the crown on the head of Naamah and she raised up to face all her "subjects".
But where she anticipated an applause or some cheering all she was facing was complete and utter silence, a silence broke in the worst way possible, laughter.
Lilidtha was laughing at her, and while no lesser succubus dared to do the same Naamah knew that her coronation have been belittled in the eyes of everyone as Jezebelle choose the worst moment to show every succubus that she was indeed the queen in Onirica.
Igrat left the coronation without a word, but with a sarcastic smirk on her face while Maskit did even worse, she comforted Naamah for her failed ceremony, and she also offered some pointers adding to the embarrassment of the princess of pride.
Some of the power in Onirica shifted away from Naamah in favor of her rivals, but most of all, many succubi strove to be closer to Jezebelle herself, knowing that the wars between the major succubi would make a casualty out of them.
-3 Gain Domain: Civilization [Culture]
-3 Gain Domain: Murder [Ritual Sacrifice]
-5 Ascend to greater deity