(Hey folks. It's been a while, hasn't it?

I'm well aware that this RP has died a long and arduous death, but if no-one really minds, I'll continue to keep writing these one-shots. I'm still finding a lot of enjoyment in writing around the canon. If anything, the RP dying has opened up the canon somewhat.

Anyways, if anyone is still reading this series, there's Deipotent, a word meaning to have the power of a god. Enjoy!)

Gods were fantastical. They had lived in the fantasies of a hundred different poets and bards, inspiring stories and allowing imaginations to run rampant. They gave humans the greatest thing which made them human. They gave mankind stories and beliefs. Occasionally, gods even gave people something to live for.

Gods were awesome. They evoked awe. People looked to the Gods with equal amounts of fear and wonder. They marvelled at the supposed power of their deities and feared that their inexplicable might could turn towards them at any given moment.

Gods were marvellous. They caused marvels which more often than nought exceeded both expectation and imagination. They could single-handedly cause events greater than could be achieved by an entire nation of men.

Gods were glamorous. They surrounded themselves in glamour, an iridescent cloak which hid their less admirable acts. Diversion and distraction where two of the key skills one needed to become a god. Any mortal could reach god-like status so long as he mastered those two pivotal arts.

Gods were terrific. They induced terror. There is nothing in the land more heart-stopping or bone chilling than the idea that a god has forsaken you, or, even worse, has turned against you.

In the entirety of Asyre, there was a single man who perfectly embodied these qualities more than any other. Currently he sat at the window of his study in the Tower of Howling, the control centre of the fortress he had single-handedly caused to be raised from the ground. Without speaking a word of a lie, Arcell could claim that all he could survey from that window was of his dominion. The metal, stone and wood metropolis had been created for his cause. The mass destruction beyond the perimeter of Hult's spiked walls was of his doing as well. A single tree could not be within a two mile radius around the Fortress. Those trees which did not fall under the forests own protection had been felled without exception. Everything that could be burned had been to power the machinery. Where life in it's vast and glorious array had once blossomed there was now nothing. The life of the land had been drained to feed the great monstrosity which rested upon it. Arcell did not think of it in this way. He saw inferior life-forms being sacrificed to support something much greater. The flawless war machine of his creation had challenged the land and it had won. Now, it was reaping its rightful rewards.

Everything he could see would be his someday in the not so distant future, if Arcell had his way. That was his will and his will was absolute. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done something which, at first glance, seemed to be impossible. He had single-handedly brought together one of the greatest armies ever amassed. He had caused the orcs and goblins to unite under him. He had gathered together the Ravagers, which could easily be Asyre's most gifted and fearsome collection of fighters. He had brought Mura, Omin, Daniella, Fable Aurora, Zarya and Achille into the darkness with him. Despite seeking solitude, Arcell would not go this journey alone. If he triumphed, so would they, but should he begin to fall...

They were expendable. The Ravagers could be replaced. It would be difficult, but certainly not impossible.

What this single individual had achieved up to this point could be regarded as miraculous. Against impossible odds and frightening challenges he had risen, fed on the tales of old and the pride of his kind, Arcell had grown, developed, adapted and triumphed. Hult was a testimony to his might. His words had swept aside age old rivalries, bringing his soldiers from their caves and tunnels into the Light. His actions had won their favour and their loyalty and now, his dreams and cunning would lead these people, his chosen ones, into a shining future.

Or, at least, that's what they thought.

You see, there's one thing people tend to frequently forget to mention about gods. They get so caught up in their glamour and legacy that they overlook a small and simple fact about them.

No-one ever said that a god had to be nice or benevolent. No-one stated they had to care about those who surrounded or supported them. No-one uttered that the gods had to stay true to mere mortals.

But perhaps, most importantly was this fact...

No-one had said how they could be stopped.

(As always, questions, queries, comments and complaints are welcome ^^

Butterfly)