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Since time immemorial, the world tree Yggdrasil, with its many branches and timelines, has stood as a bastion of creation amidst the endless blackness of the void. Headed by no less than 3 generations of gods, each has fought to protect it from any dangers that may threaten its existence, maintaining cosmic order. However, the existence of this world changed forever when one man, dissatisfied with his own existence, chose to rebel against the current of an orderly fate. His efforts were, by all means, successful, but the cost was great. The world tree itself, as well as the gods that governed it, would fall before his power, and this man would go on to become the ruler of the wasteland left in the wake of his warpath. That man is...
"A bored god, whose name you don't need to know," ended a man with long, wild black hair and wearing red-and-black robes, sitting upon a throne that appeared to be far more advanced technologically than a simple golden chair. As he spoke, he finished writing words down into a floating book before him, which vanished upon the conclusion of his monologue. "Perhaps I'll write more later..." He mutters to himself, and then laughs. "Hah, probably not. I have better things to do. Michael!"
At his command, a blonde man appears before him. He wears simple white robes, and has a pair of glowing angelic wings. "Yes, your grace?" He spoke, with a mixture of both reverence and resentment in his tone.
"You've made sure preparations are in order for the world to receive the chosen?"
"Yes. It should be perfectly prepared to handle the distortions."
"Good. Then let us begin."
The angel, "Michael", stood at the side of the throne as the robed man raised an arm. He rested his head on his other hand as eight (one for each player) pillars of light manifested before him... ANd thus, eight summoned beings came into existence before him.
"A bored god, whose name you don't need to know," ended a man with long, wild black hair and wearing red-and-black robes, sitting upon a throne that appeared to be far more advanced technologically than a simple golden chair. As he spoke, he finished writing words down into a floating book before him, which vanished upon the conclusion of his monologue. "Perhaps I'll write more later..." He mutters to himself, and then laughs. "Hah, probably not. I have better things to do. Michael!"
At his command, a blonde man appears before him. He wears simple white robes, and has a pair of glowing angelic wings. "Yes, your grace?" He spoke, with a mixture of both reverence and resentment in his tone.
"You've made sure preparations are in order for the world to receive the chosen?"
"Yes. It should be perfectly prepared to handle the distortions."
"Good. Then let us begin."
The angel, "Michael", stood at the side of the throne as the robed man raised an arm. He rested his head on his other hand as eight (one for each player) pillars of light manifested before him... ANd thus, eight summoned beings came into existence before him.
