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The Sentinel City - Building Athadas

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Winter’s Day, Month of the Heron, Year of the Raven


Sabine Fenvaris leaned into her staff and watched from the platform she stood on.

For at least half a mile she saw the faces of the Aralim standing at attention, waiting for her orders. Each had been given a task, each assigned platoon had their duties in assisting with construction.

The morning was cool, and the breeze invigorated the lungs. The sun was just rising, casting the entire crew. All around them the marked perimeter was bustling with activity. It was the same everywhere as the new cities were underway in the first stages of their construction.

“Soon this city will mark as one of the first viable threats to our Sovereign. We are the first answer and the last to fall.” There was an unprecedented yet proud roar, fists were raised. Sabine knew her crowd was rowdy and she slammed the butt of her staff on the ground, “Quiet! Quiet.” But her grin betrayed her approval of their passion.

“We are the Sentinel City. We must be efficient, vigilant and ready. Each of you are to assist with various phases of construction. Be mindful of your surroundings, this is our home now.” Leaning away from the staff, the Ironstride hopped off the platform. The distinct sound of metal of jostled spearhead tips filled the air. Sabine had one arm but utilized several weapons. Unlike her Enforcers who channeled their energy into their weapon blades, Sabine preferred the traditional kind.

“Report to your stations. Keep an open line of communication. Dismissed!” At once, they gave her their military salute and scattered to their respective stations. Sabine made her way behind to head back to the tents already set up. All around her were strange equipment she had never seen before—never truly understood.

She understood tools and weapons, but their world had never experienced the accelerated technology that was coming from overseas to assist them. Queen Raveena was already there, issuing out further commands. Sabine sidled up to her commander and friend and glanced down at the blueprint.

Sabine scanned it quickly, brows furrowing, “An armory? Your Majesty…you spoil me!”

Raveena arched a brow and returned the grin, “Play your cards right, I might throwi in a training arena.”

Sabine cackled before grabbing an empty tool belt and slinging it over her shoulder. “I thought you were just supervising?” Raveena called after her.

“Adapt and survive, Your Majesty!” Sabine yelled over her shoulder with a broad grin, “One of these damned fools is going to teach me or get clobbered trying.”

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"Watch out!" Gunther yelled, diving to one side as a car was thrown in his direction. The sound of metal and glass crunching as it hit the ground filled the air, the warrior just barely saved by the reflexes gifted to him by his immortal heritage.

"You stupid demigods!" Roared the cyclops. "Why you got to ruin all my fun!" The fighting had spilled out into the streets of Nashville, mortals were running in terror at what they believed was a madman wielding a rocket launcher. Just one of the more fortunate features of the Mist.

Gunther didn't have much time to collect himself, his teammates were doing their best, but he feared they weren't ready to take on a cyclops like Brogomedes. He was a relative of one of the great cyclops that forged Zeus' lightning bolt, so he was a lot stronger and tougher than most. It was also a bit personal for Gunther, since his father, Hepheastus, had entrusted Brogomedes with an artifact of great power, and now the bone head was using it to terrorize mortals.

"I'm gonna rip his head off!" Said Jack, a son of Ares and unsurprisingly, quite an angry dude. His caramel colored muscles rippled underneath his armor, and Gunther could sense the power coming off him. It would honestly be more surprisng if he didn't rip the cyclop's head off, but the machine churning behind the one eyed monster was cranking up a magical storm the likes of which we couldn't handle. Spewing out fire balls, lightning bolts and boulders, it was a real weapon of war, meant to help defend Mount Olympus (or in this case the Empire State Building) from any future enemies, but now it was being turned on them.

"I think I can try to jam it's spells with my magic." Erica suggested. Her mother was Hecate, so Gunther knew there was a good chance of that working, except.

"We don't know how it's going to effect the machine!" Gunther warned.

"You got a better idea?" She asked, and Gunther knew he didn't. 

"All right. Jack and I are gonna attack from both sides. You try to keep that thing from firing at us, and we may just have a shot at taking Brogomedes down." They nodded, and just as the cyclops was getting ready to hurl another car at us, we were charging at him. 

"Puny demigods!" He roared at them, throwing the red Pontiac straight for Jack, who could only dive out of the way, but not before his leg got clipped, causing him to cry out in pain and rage. Erica had cast her spells, which caused the machine to lurch, its gears grinding as something started happening.

"What did you do to my machine!" He accused, but Gunther was already at him.

"It's not your machine!" He tackled the cyclops, his shield punching into the brute's gut, just as his sword stabbed at his chest. His face was a mess of surprise and pain, his body dissipating into golden dust, but Gunther didn't have time to celebrate as the machine gave a terrible whine, and before he knew it, he was enveloped in a bright white light.

Hurtling through time and space, the demigod crashed into the streets of Athadas, going head first into a group of soldiers, and causing them to fall in a heap. Nauseous, confused, and most of all, his nerves were screaming in pain. Groaning, he tried to get up, but was shackled almost immediately. "What the?"

"Don't make any moves, criminal!" Soears were pointed at his head, and all he could do was raise his manacled hands in surrender. 

"Great...just great..." 

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___Site 003

Friar’s Day, Month of the Corvid, Year of the Raven


Hyperion’s imperial military would essentially have its own city. Four sentinel towers, one for each of the smaller cities, and a grand fortress city at the forefront of it all. Sabine had learned a great deal about true technology and machinery while working. She wanted to understand every inch of what Athadas would be. It was, in short, a military base.

Engineers and mages working on ensure the safety and practicality of each sentinel spire. They were nearly halfway done, and soon the city proper would begin to flesh out. The foundation was set and the bare bones of the city was beginning to grow. There were plans for administration buildings. Correctional facilities. Hopsitals and research facilities and more. Raveena invested a lot of money in having true training facilities for each region to be trained at. Zevarian Hyperions fought differently than Binaadian. Here, there would be a way to formulate well-rounded military personnel.

Sabine had wiped sweat from her brow when an entourage of Enforcers arrived with a boy in tow. Their spear-tips were emanating heat as the exalta crystals nestled into the shaft translated the flow of their magic into something honed and precise. “What’s this?” She inquired blandly, unamused at the idea of having trouble already.

“He fell out of the sky, Lady Ironstride.” An girl chimed, her brows knit together with concern. “Security detail picked him up at the border. Has barely said four words since.”

Sabine narrowed her golden eyes on the boy. He looked worse for wear, “Your name, boy. Are you injured, and were you followed?” She cut right to the chase.

People did not randomly fall out of the sky unless something unexpected and—typically—terrible happened.


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For a while, Gunther seemed somewhat confused, looking around at the various structures that were halfway built, then back to her. "Uh the name's Gunther Inlet, and uhm...am I dead?"

For a second there was a moment of doubt in the faces of his captives, confused by such a statement. 

"I'm just kind of confused I guess. I thought Olympus would be more...opulent? Is this some new area being built in Olympus? Truly I don't mean to offend the Gods, I'm sure it's likely a welcome addition." His hands, which had been fidgeting since he had arrived, moved to scratch his head as the manacles clattered to the ground. The spearheads were raised, pointing just inches from his face as his heart nearly stopped beating. 

"Oh uh...sorry, my hands are uhm...they have a mind of their own sometimes. Something from my father, Hepheastus. Do you...know Hepheastus? Or...are you one of the people who don't like him? Gods its so hard to keep track of all the politics, its worse than watching the presidential debate back home." His ADD was going a hundred miles a minute, his battle reflexes tensing up for a possible fight. 

"I wanna talk with my father. You can't just kill a son of Hepheastus without even a trial, right? Right?" He gulped, his southern accent cracking in hard, something he tried to keep buried down, but always showed up in times of stress. 

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___Site 003

Tier’s Day, Month of the Falcon, Year of the Raven


The city was growing.

The construction of Athadas was a titanic undertaking, employing battalions of laborer’s and craftspeople from the Rising West and abroad. Pillars of precious wood were floated from the forests of Brehill, while blocks of quarried stone were preemptively hauled to the epicenter during winter over the many iced roads. Once built, Athadas would be governed by a stultifying code of rules, protocol and perhaps even a little superstition.

Raised on a three-tier marble terrace was the heart of the glorious heart of their future home. It was the largest, most important building in Athadas, that oversaw the rest. The cities most important military communications would take place here, a prestigious command center that relayed to the other spire fortresses, as well as the capital city.

The second and third halls had their construction underway. After several talks with the strange boy, and the definite conclusion he wasn’t native—nor were his parents here—Sabine saw the hunger and anxiousness in him and put him to task in building. She had always suspected there were other worlds, other pantheons—Queen Raveena had been proof of that. The boy proved useful—and entertaining in a sense. Some days she wanted to strangle him by his neck.

“GET DOWN FROM THERE, BOY!” She’d bark at him. He never took it too personal. Something shiny would catch his eye soon after and he’d forget she even yelled at him. It was this way for days and weeks between them.

They dined together, like tonight. “I wonder, boy. Maybe you would know better. Our Tinker God, is it possible he could be another aspect of your father?” Fraiko, the god of the forge and earth. Tipping a bowl, Sabine noisily slurped on soup. It was a root vegetable soup, with a crusty bread to sop it up with. It wasn’t like Sabine to question the gods. She had her faith in some more than others and felt wondering led to darker paths. Those who hungered for answers were too often consumed by them. Still, the boy’s existence made her wonder.


Edited by Malintzin

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After finishing his dinner, Gunther wiped his face with the napkin that stayed at his lap, thinking on the question. "It's possible." He pondered, having thought on the issue as well since arriving to Valucre. 

"There are certainly a lot of different pantheons where I'm from, with plenty of different gods of labor and the forge. Gosh there was this one kid at camp, he thought himself the next Plato or something, and he had some weird theories about the gods as well." After looking around his area, he settled on a crystal cup for his explanation. "It goes something like this:

The cup represents an idea, like forging, war, art, magic, whatever. On this cup are different facets, which represent the different gods that hold sway over this idea. My father, Hepheastus, is the god of the forge." He said, pointing to one of the sparkling parts of the cup. "But" his finger moved to another facet. "The Romans have their own god of the forge, Vulcan. They both have the same domains of fire and forge, but they also have their differences. Vulcan is considered more disciplined, more duty bound than Hepheastus, like many of the other Roman gods. Many facets, all with a singular idea connecting them."

His hands were already twisting the cup at different angles, the juice sloshing around somewhat, but he was careful not to make a mess. It was difficult to comprehend, the thought of so many different gods out there in the world. "So long as there are people around to remember them, there's always gonna be some.gods running around, ya know?" 

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