Althos stood right between the orcs and the dwarves. His abrupt appearance had caused all of their eyes to turn to him. The dwarves were mystified by his sudden appearance, ignorant to the role he had played in orchestrating the invasion of their home. His aura was seeping out of him, and in an instant, it made contact with the dwarves closest to him.
It filled them with despair, all while stealing an abundance of their energy. For the dwarves unlucky enough to be close to him his aura was leechlike. It shrouded him in a hazy field of shimmering, silver-tinted air and began to steal the energy of those he was opposed too. It also instilled in them a potent fear of him and the orcs behind him, those he viewed as his allies.
The orcs, one of many tribes that had sworn fealty to him, were not aware that he was their god. For once he was not proclaiming that fact. He had other, stranger goals in mind here.
The youthful and mischievous god was still and silent for a heartbeat before raising his fingers high into the air. And then with a swift snap of two of the slender digits, the odd divinity called a line of fire into being behind himself that forcibly stopped the fighting that he had egged on earlier that day. He closed his eyes and smiled at the dwarves before him.
He looked human, but something about him informed the dwarves that he wasn't. There was something eerily unsettling about the odd god. And it wasn't just his strange capabilities, it was something primal and almost genetic. A sort of innate madness that he leaked as readily as he radiated his deific auric powers.
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The dwarves in front of me were afraid of me. I sensed their terror, their despair at not only the invasion of the orcish warriors who had chosen to become some of those who delivered my unkind vengeance on Morehammer but at my actual presence.
This satisfied a dark part of me. A part of me that hungered for blood, and for fear. It was one of many parts of me that existed deep within my mind.
During my time in the tower over the course of the past twenty days, I had spent a considerable amount of time being introspective. I explored my mind and engaged freely with the domains and subdomains that lurked within me. I had also begun to learn about the potent desires I had lurking deep within me.
Some of these desires were simple. Heck, I had even learned that to an extent at least some of these desires were felt by mortals. Many but not all mortals craved love, community, and respect, though admittedly more often than not they carved these things in ways that were unlike how than I craved them. I desired to be loved, not to love. I desired to create communities that praised and served me. I craved to be respected and feared. These sentiments were not often shared by mortals.
Other desires were not so simple. I desired to be worshiped. I enjoyed the rush of a range of emotions I felt when other beings supplicated themselves before me and offered me their hearts, their lives, and their fearful yet potent love of me.
I desired to grow in power, as I wanted to become omnipotent. That goal was not impossible for me but it was still far out of reach. I wanted to become a being who could destroy worlds with a glance, and resurrect entire fallen civilizations at will. I wanted the power to create stars and the ability to destroy entire galaxies.
I was greedy in this context, and I had become addicted to gaining new powers, yet recently I had begun to contend with this. I was reaching a point in my development where for me to gain new powers it was necessary for me to use the ones I already had, rather than excitedly get them and not make use of them. This was a good thing for me if I was being honest.
A part of me desired blood and carnage. This wasn't just my dark side either. I had a side that was good that enjoyed the idea of facing down armies of darkness and using powers over light and goodness to prevent wholesale massacres. I didn't mind the idea of going toe to toe with large armies even by myself. I knew what sort of brutality I was capable of, what my powers would allow me to do.
The dark side of me wanted to slay and maim far more than I felt comfortable with. Even now I was carefully protecting a fair portion of the world from the effects of the volcanoes, and I knew that I possessed the power to bring a near-instantaneous end to the volcanic fury I was unleashing on the world. I also possessed a number of potent abilities that would mitigate the actual damage the volcanoes did to the life found on Torus if nothing else.
One ability "False resurrection" was a passive power that I possessed that I knew I'd be able to do a considerable amount with. With it, I knew that this miniaturized apocalypse would only allow me to grow in power. It was an incredibly insidious power that allowed me to make use of corpses to create living cults of evil that worshiped me.
I knew in the time shortly before I began to aid Ava that I ought to indulge in my darker side. I didn't doubt that doing so would reap rewards and allow me to explore things I hadn't really begun to explore. I had no idea that it would result in such tragedy, and in myself beginning to experience new emotions associated with loss.
Such emotions were unpleasant for me to experience, but I knew they'd one day make mighty weapons in my arsenal. The emotion domain was one of the few I was aware of that eluded me. One day though I'd gain power over it. And when I did... My ambitions would only climb.
That said, I also possessed a good side. This good side was a quieter part of me lately, but it wasn't gone. And this part of me also recognized the importance of defeating Morehammer. Morehammer was a tyrant who had refused his people's freedom. He had lorded over them and utterly abandoned those whose hearts became too dark for him. More than that though, he told me he had worked to prevent a god of dark dwarves from coming into existence.
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That almost certainly meant that one could have existed and guided dark dwarves if not for his interference. That was an act of evil itself. An act of tyranny. Something he ought to be held accountable for. And I honestly believed that I was the right god to stop him and to hold him accountable.
I had told many lies over the course of my life. But something I had legitimately worked to be was a god of freedom. I allowed people to worship me in ways that made sense to them, I fought to free slaves all over Torus, and I had allowed people to live as their true selves. I had even given bodies to the bodyless and worked against possession with demons like Sombra who'd otherwise fill their days with possession while yearning for a real body of their own.
I legitimately valued freedom. It was perhaps the single strongest value I possessed, as an intrinsically chaotic and naturally neutral being. That was why the only people I had subjected to mind and will breaking powers were people like Milene who had once enjoyed slicing through the freedoms and lives of others. I didn't regret doing what I did to her, as it cooled her off and the main thing I stopped her from doing was behaving cruelly towards those who were "owned" by her family.
After spending a few moments of introspective musing, I refocused on the scene in front of me. One wherein I was surrounded by confused and awed beings.
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The dwarves in front of me were terrified. This was in part because I was radiating a front-facing aura of despair that almost paralyzed my foes. That said, some of this was a wholly natural and reasonable fear of a strange, eldritch being who they knew radiated a sort of quiet yet palpable aura of power.
I studied them for a moment, my eyes lazily examining them. Their eyes were wide, but a few of them were visibly exhausted and I knew that it was only because of the situation they were in that they were able to stand up. That made me chuckle.
The total number of dwarves in front of me who were still alive numbered in the tens of dozens. A few hundred of the brave humanoids were still here, attempting to defend their home from what felt, to them anyway, like a random and weirdly skillful invasion of their home by hundreds of brutal orcs. Many of the orcs had fallen, but their deaths wouldn't be permanent. At least not in the corporeal sense. I didn't feel like resurrecting the fallen warriors, but their bodies were still useful to me. They'd make good missionaries, under the power of a false resurrection.
I rose my hand and closed my fist, willing the flames behind me to intensify as I did so. "Enough." I proclaimed, speaking commandingly. Silently I called my staff to my other hand and pointed it at the dwarves in front of me.
"Cease your resistance." I commanded, my voice softening as I did so. I was feigning sympathy, and I allowed my gaze to soften even as I made eye contact with the dozens of dwarves that stood right in front of me.
"You are victims as much as we are. And not just of us. Not just of overly... passionate Althonians, but of the real enemy." I told the dwarves, causing their eyes to further fill with fear and now with legitimate confusion. Some of them began to push back against each other, attempting to increase the distance between themselves and myself. I stifled a small chuckle, so as to not appear to be mocking them. They met with resistance from their comrades, who pushed them back to where they were, or only grudgingly gave way.
One of them, a tough-looking male warrior with a braided beard didn't back away from me. He wasn't close to me though so he wasn't fully exposed to my auric powers which explained his ability to stand so defiantly. But he did boldly do more than the other warriors did. He pointed his battleax at me and this time I didn't bother to hide my chuckle. This didn't anger him but his eyes did narrow as he opened his mouth to speak.
"Hey! Who are you? Are you the commander of these orcs?" He shouted, his axe still pointed at me. His voice was a low, gravel-like one, but he spoke with an energy unbecoming of someone with which a voice. He also spoke quite speedily. Undeterred by him I began to speak again.
"The dwarven people have long been deceived by an ancient demon-lord. Morehammer tricked all of your ancestors into believing in him. And following his death he has remained as a phantasmal echo of the past. Now, something has stirred him into action against a new foe, Althos the god of freedom." I told the dwarves in front of me. This caused them to stir in confusion, and they began to grumble both at me and in general. I didn't allow them to complain loudly though.
"Althos is currently resting and recovering from an encounter with Morehammer. He sent out a notification, since he is a true god, to the overwhelming majority of the world. He excluded dwarves. He urged his followers to defeat followers of Morehammer. Some Althonians are very zealous and fanatically love Torus' god. Some members of that particular camp are these orcs back here." I told the dwarves. This provoked an outburst from the dwarves.
"We serve no one!"
"Morehammer can't be a demon lord?!"
"So many of our kin... Slain!"
"Is Althos taking the side of these monsters? What about justice?"
"I can't believe this... My son and my father, slain, by overzealous followers of a wounded god."
I allowed them to speak their minds for a few moments, just long enough to get the worst outbursts out of them. And then I rose my hand again.
"The lives that were lost were not lost. Althos has bestowed me with some of his power. I am one of his angels. An angel of life. I possess the power to resurrect those who have fallen." I explained. I was of course lying, but a good portion of my words were true. I would be resurrecting the fallen. Or at least their bodies.
"Althos is a god of many things. Allow him to show you a mere fraction of his powers. I will dismiss these followers, and you will be able to live in peace." I proclaimed, speaking self-confidently. They looked at me uncertainly, which was a reasonable reaction all things considered. I chuckled and deactivated my auras. And then I targeted the living dwarves and began to remotely heal them.
I heard a number of sighs, but these ones were relieved and not the pained or sorrowful ones I heard in the aftermath of when I explained the origins of the orcs. I waited for a second to allow the dwarves to begin to focus on me and to actually adjust to their sudden lack of wounds and pain.
When they were done recuperating I rose my hand and began to casually project an illusion of the radiant golden energy that would be familiar to many life forms as holy energy. I did this so as to lend legitimacy to the idea that I was going to perform a mass, true resurrection.