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Divine Amusement (lips like morphine and Methos)

Methos

Star
Joined
May 7, 2009
Many feared the wrath of the gods. Perhaps more simply they should simply have feared their interest. There was likely nothing kinder to the world than the benign neglect of the gods, for in such circumstances the gravest concerns that mortals needed to address their minds to were those troubles that could be enacted simply by other men. Few things should truly have proven as frightening to the world than the boredom of the gods.

Thus by rights the world should collectively have cringed when Althan turned his mind towards the world. His awareness was briefly struck with a deluge of prayers. Indeed given that he was counted as a war god, the god of hunting, a god of healing and considered to be the chief patron god of dozens of cities the list of supplicants indeed went on for a not entirely considerable length of time. The occasional flick of his finger as he sat brooding on the stone throne like chair beneath him was all the distinguished between those requests granted and those he chose to ignore.

Thus with only the slightest of acknowledgements diseases were cured, wounds were healed, lives were destroyed in the heat of combat and dozens of beasts were slain. With the routine matters dealt with his attention lingered upon the world. Dark eyes gazed downwards and scrutinized the distant happens, watching the various cities that claimed to honour him foremost, like a patrician taking a sudden interest in some far flung holding he now turned a proprietary eye upon ‘his’ cities.

His consciousness lingered as a stream of lives moved before him. People went about the everyday drudgery of their lives. Craftsmen constructed a variety of objects from fine furnishings to metalwork. Farmers toiled in their fields and merchants haggled in their stores. Such drudgery was hardly captivating. Far more lurid were the odd acts of infidelity that played out in the mid-day and the squabbles of rival gangs over territories when they broke out into open violence. Yet still his mind wandered.
 
Arelia feared only on thing, her gods. She had always been brave, willing to fight through anything to get to what she thought was right. Having watched her family die due to war she had tried her best to stay away from violence, but vengence ran through her veins. No matter what she tried to do she would not be able to resist the temptation to defeat those who stole away her family. The only thing she feared however was punishment for her actions from Althan. He was her true Diety, and nothing else could stop her worship of him. Indeed she would do everything in her power to take revenge, but if it displeased Althan she woud wait until a more apropriate time. Arelia was the pretties girl in her city, having been so obsessed in the deaths of her family she had never taken with a man, her body as pure as the holy water. She was the woman all men wanted but the one none could seem to get. Oh sure she'd tease them, and lead them on to believe they'd have a chance, but in the end they were smooshed beneath her boots like a bug. Her long vibrant blonde hair billowed in the wind and the sun helped make her blue eyes shine like the sky. She was something to watch out for, that was for certain.
 
Althan’s attention traveled through one particular city for a period of time. He simply watched the people as they meandered about their business. Although his attention drifted as it fell upon one particular girl. A rather striking and youthful blonde woman at that, he smiled as he regarded her. His gaze took in the rather perfect shape of her body as yet unspoiled by the touch of any man. He knew the woman for ever did she pray to him, begging for vengeance against those that had wronged her family.

Perhaps if she thought that her pleas were unheard, now she would know that her god was acutely aware of her. She’d feel a presence descending upon her, heavy and uplifting all at once leaving her body tingling as though its simple presence caressed against every inch of her skin. Nothing would be said that any other could hear but in her mind she’d rather plainly hear “You shall have your vengeance for your family Arelia.. but you will be mine and mine alone.”

The god did not name himself, indeed he simply assumed she would know whom exactly had chosen to spoke to her. He lingered briefly as his presence would seem to envelope her and only then would he withdraw leaving the girl to deal with that particular revelation. However, the price of her desires was evidently rather steep, being herself.
 
Arelia had been walking through the town, taking care of daily chores and such when she stopped quite suddenly in the middle of the street. Something was touching her, but there was nothing around. It's soft touches carressed every inch of her skin, her body tingling with sensations she didn't understand. She looked around, wondering who could be doing this, but there was nothing. Then she heard a voice. Vengence? Hers? Finally? She couldn't believe it, but she clung to the idea, she wanted it so very much. Her prayers were being answered, and no matter what she had to do, it was what she wanted. She ran to her home, having dropped the basket she had been carrying and raced into her house. She slammed the door and rested upon it. Her heart slamming in her chest. "Are you there Althan? I heard you! I agree! Please answer my prayers my lord!" She cried out to the heavens, hoping he'd come to her. When she heard nothing or felt nothing sher crawled into her bed, hoping that when she awoke her false hopes would no longer exist.
 
The girl’s reaction had amused the god. She had such eagerness at the idea of her request being fulfilled. He watched her as she returned home and begged for some further response to him. Although as the girl promised him that she agreed with what he stated a brief smile would quirk across his lips. No response was made to the girl however, but once sleep claimed her she would find the same presence seeming to descend upon her in her dreams.

A hand would seem to stray along her body as that tingling sensation would return to her form. That hand traced along the curves of her body as it pressed to her firmly, feeling that soft flesh beneath its touch. Calloused fingers pressed into her and seemed to slip along her, squeezing and lingering upon that nubile form.

That touch upon her strayed downwards to the soft lips of her sex. Fingers brushed against them rather firmly and before rubbing against them rather vigorously. There was something intoxicating about that touch, it slide over her and had a rather irresistible quality to it. Fingers were pressed just inside of her and swirled about to touch and stimulate her. Although these fingers were not pressed so deeply within so as to break that delicate hymen that preserved her purity. Her clit found these same strong fingers rubbing against her and grinding down upon those petals of puffy flesh. Rather firmly working that sensitive nub to make her body squirm with pleasure.

Perhaps it was all no more than a pleasant dream aside from the fact that a flaming pain would shoot through the girl’s body as a scarlet mark was left upon the woman’s flesh. The stylized sword, hunting horn and leaf arranged in an overlapping fashion were seared into her flesh. The words “You are mine” would echo through his mind until the girl awoke to find in life as in the dream the god’s symbol had been branded into her body just above her sex.
 
Arelia layed in her bed, wondering about the strange sensations she had felt while in town. As if He had been listening she felt them again. This time stronger, calloused hands gliding against her smooth skin, her body reacting to each sweet touch. Her heart began to race and then when she felt something part her legs she let it, she stretched herself out as wide as she could, allowing the strange sensations to take over. Her back arched as the touch went from soft, to vigorous, just at her sex. She could feel something stimulating her inside, but not taking away her precious virginity. She writhed in tormented pleasure on her bed, her moans filling the room until suddenly she felt a severe pain. She jolted awake and looked down, there just above her sex was his symbol. She smiled, her dreams would soon come true.
 
The god’s voice would idly fill her ear as he murmured “Look”. Before her eyes the city her own had been at war with was displayed as though a vivid dream before her eyes. It appeared to be normally going about its business, as children played in the streets, women went through its market and soldiers lined the walls. “Your enemy is at peace.” The god idly noted “But ruin can fall upon a city swiftly when the favour of the gods turns against them.”

“I can level that city with earthquakes, fire and pestilence. Leaving not but a smoking ruin and rotting corpses where once stood the city of your enemies.” He specified what amounted to a cruel fate for anyone regardless of what wrongs they had done. “You would have your vengeance.” The voice idly noted “A terrible vengeance.” The god altered the picture to show buildings crumbling and being consumed by fire, and people brought low and to death by the ravages of disease.

That presence brushed against her and idly noted “But if you wish it, you will prepare yourself for me. Make both your body and mind prepared to seek to please your god. The lengths taken to be suitable for a king, do not suffice for no king can be any more than a mere shadow of a god. When you are ready place yourself upon my altar, and if I am content I shall claim you, and you will have your vengeance.” Thereafter, there was only silence.
 
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