Lord_Damocles

The Old Gods are gone. Lost and Forgotten, their honor shattered and their kingdoms broken by treachery. 

The Peace of the Myriad Heavens has been severed. And from the ashes of war and chaos, the Twin Towers of Babel have been created as a beacon of hope. 

Can Altair, a child born of the Old Gods whose name has long since been forgotten, survive, or will he be cast into the Nine Hells?

***
"So..." Arsene continued, enjoying his child's flush expression. "I've got a few things to teach you. What I'm about to give you is some peak wisdom. Think of it as my Ten Commandments: One, never trust a bitch with red hair. Trust me on this. Two, the pull-out game is not a real thing. She will get pregnant. Three—"

"F-Father…"

" —Never get yourself more than one wife. It sounds fun. It is fun. But it's truly a nightmare. You better be writing this stuff down. This is some grade-A wisdom right here. Four.

"...Please stop talking…" The Prince pleaded. 

"Shhhhh. Just let this happen. Four…Bro's before hoes isn't a thing. The hoes come first. Remember, Booty is more important than Wa— "

"STOP!!!!!"

Shadow of the Abyss

Within the inner sanctum of the palace, torchlight stretched across the walls, casting a long, smokey shadow of the great statue of one of the ladies of the Sepith. It was of Aidios, she who bore the First Oath of Iron. It was a hollow depiction of her beauty and power, for no mortal hands could emulate the divine.

Below the statue of Aidios, Ariane knelt on one knee, her head bowed.

A rustle of wind echoed from a distance past, wafted through the sanctum, gliding through Ariane's golden hair.

"The Boy," came a sultry voice from the statue of Aidios herself. "Tell me about the boy."

"I believe him to be touched by the Hells, your eminence," she said, her head lowering even further. "Though I have no proof. I felt…" she stopped as if to hesitate whether to speak her mind.

"Speak your heart, child," echoed the statue.

Schemes