Rival Angels

First and foremost, this has nothing to do with Rival Angels, it's not a fanfic. This is a work of fiction, purely of my own device, and I would like to continue with this for as long as the ideas continue to come. Fear not, for I will continue to write RA fanfics for as long as the ideas for them continue. But what I want to do, I want to write a story to show people what kinds of stories I would like to write. Depending on the feedback, I may or may not continue, as for one thing, I'm uncertain if a story like this has a place on a Creations board that has no specific section for things that are not related to the source material for the entire forum. But, I have a story to tell, and if there's one bit of advice from the pros that I take to heart, it's to write, and that often.


He didn't like the fact that his name was invoked in times of war. He didn't like that his name was so readily uttered in the same statements as death, despite the fact that all knew the work he directed his followers to do for the dead. He was a God, a God among many others, and among them, he had allies who helped him come to terms with his responsibilities. Indeed, one such ally was an apprentice of his in mortal days. He was a God of death and of magic, of planning and of war. Of dreams, of luck. Of other things. He was called the God of Many Things. His name was Amerigo Sebastian Keeler III.

Amerigo was not like other Gods and Goddesses in that he was a risen mortal. Some creator deity approached him years ago and offered him the spark of Godhood, which would allow him to aid the growing number of people who asked him for aid in some way or another. Where most with his power would probably decline, Amerigo knew in his no longer beating heart he couldn't bear to leave the world behind when so many people needed him. He had already been walking the path of Lichdom for 430 years he remembered so vividly. Eternity was a long time, and with as little focus as his unlife had beyond the needs of the people in his growing village, indeed, the town had grown to something of a metropolis in the time since he founded it, he wondered how long it would be before some evildoer more powerful than he would come and strike him down, rendering so many people without the aid only he could provide them. He knew there were other Gods and Goddesses, that there were plenty who oversaw this aspect or that of mortal life, but there were too many who plagued mortals with pestilence and famine and the depredations of their followers for him to say no. He had the power to oppose those deities, but he was still nothing compared to them. Just a mortal only capable of changing the world with a life that never really had a chance to begin compared to the longer-lived races. Without a moment's thought, he took the creator deity's offer.

"Grandpa?" His Half-Vampire granddaughter's sudden words snapped him out of his recollection. "Did you get all of that?"

Shaking his head, the Lich-God muttered, "I'm sorry, Serenity. Please, take it from the top."

She bowed before her God and started her report again from the very beginning. "The city of Highrock is under siege by Orcs. The number of casualties is unknown, but the number of wounded among the town's defenders easily exceeds two-thousand. Those who still hold the city request priests from the nearby temple to help bolster the town's defenses. In the kingdom of Farwyll, the Elves have begun their annual rituals. The festivals are about to begin, and some priests are on their way to oversee the next step. Gnolls on the southern part of the continent of Bhuros have begun trading with the Dwarves there. It is unknown for what purpose this trade union was begun, but the Gnolls are followers of Yours. It can only be assumed that they wish to bring Your word to the people of that region by any means necessary. It's no secret You are not well loved in Bhuros."

Amerigo nodded. Turning from the window that oversaw his town, now his very divine realm, he said to his granddaughter, "I see. I will contact the priests at the temple near Highrock with the plan later. And I shall have to remind the Gnolls in Bhuros not to bear arms against the native inhabitants except to defend themselves, should it come to that. What is the status of the temple in the Burning Mountains?" For as easy as things were for a God of his status, there was still much work to be done. Another temple to be built, more funerals to oversee. It never ended.

"It was completed mere hours ago. Priests are being chosen to reside there."

"And is a High Priest for that temple decided upon yet?"

"No, sir," Serenity said, adding, "My name was on this list, as You may remember, but I have too many responsibilities here and abroad to oversee a temple."

The Great Lich sighed, "Yes, I suppose so. I don't really care who becomes the High Priest of the Burning Mountains temple, but that's a dangerous region. We have to make absolutely certain it's someone who can handle it. Do you have anyone in mind?"

"Me, Grandpa?" Serenity was a little startled by the sudden question. He often asked her opinion, but never about High Priests for temples. "Begging Your pardon, but I've been busy recently on information gathering missions, war meetings, and negotiations with unfriendly faiths. I've not had much time to get to know new converts to the faith, or candidates for temple leadership. Perhaps my God should ask Jerlys?"

The mention of his apprentice and proselytizer reminded him he'd not seen the Drow in a few days, and he asked, "Where is Jerlys, anyway? I've been all over this town many times this week, and I've not seen her anywhere."

"Jerlys is one of them on their way to Farwyll for the Elves' festivals. She volunteered to go, not only as a show of our good intentions, but to try to help ease tensions between them and the Drow who have recently come to that kingdom."

The God of Many Things nodded thoughtfully. Jerlys, being a Drow, would be able to help smooth things over there. "I see. Yes, that makes sense. Very good. Thank you, Serenity, that will be all. If anything happens elsewhere, I should be the first to know." He lifted a book from his desk and flipped through a few pages. "Are you worried about something, Serenity?"

"It's nothing, Grandpa," she said, shaking her head. "Well, actually... If You don't take me the wrong way, You don't seem Yourself these past few days."

The Teacher chuckled. "Is that what's worrying you? Rest assured, it's nothing. Mortal worries of a God who still doesn't know just how to be one."

The Half-Vampire woman bowed. "If You're certain. If You'll excuse me." Her unkempt obsidian hair flying in a grand arc behind her, she turned with some haste and existed her grandfather's office.

Amerigo sat down in he chair behind his desk, still leafing through the pages of the book he picked up. It was going to be a long Eternity, but so long as people still needed him, he couldn't help but feel that maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Very cool, though half-vampire is sort of intriguing. You don't really see a whole lot of those. And a Lich as a protagonist? And a sympathtic one at that? That's too cool. It's certainly refreshingly untread. I've enjoyed Lich's as ultimate bad guys but this new light is captivating.

Feel free to post any stories you want here!

albone wrote:Very cool, though half-vampire is sort of intriguing. You don't really see a whole lot of those. And a Lich as a protagonist? And a sympathtic one at that? That's too cool. It's certainly refreshingly untread. I've enjoyed Lich's as ultimate bad guys but this new light is captivating.

Feel free to post any stories you want here!

I dunno how deep into D&D you are, but there is a book, Libris Mortis: The Book of Undead, that has rules for a Good-aligned variant of the Lich. That's where Amerigo as he appears in this story comes from, even if his personal story started where anybody's does: with their birth. And not just a protagonist, but as a god, no less. You don't have many stories that follow gods around, but Amerigo is different. He's a very young god, only been a deity for 20-some years when the story begins. Learned early on how to control his divine powers, but still doesn't quite know how to be a god. And on the subject of the story, let's think of this as the prologue. Setting everything up.

And tonight, I got nothing. I've got an idea in my head, but it's not fully developed yet.

I like it as well. Lots of potential here and on things I know little about. Please do continue

*shrugs*its ok i guse

BrendaRua wrote:I like it as well. Lots of potential here and on things I know little about. Please do continue

You know, even though this particular work has nothing to do with wrestling, comments like this mean a lot to me, coming from the Champ.

Chapter 1 may be up on Friday. Maybe next Monday. We'll see. Depends how long it takes me finish it.

hm.. what about some vampires girls wrestling werewolf women as well etc. supernatural wrestling

reiko wrote:hm.. what about some vampires girls wrestling werewolf women as well etc. supernatural wrestling

Well, that's a problem because I just said this story has nothing to do with wrestling. It could also be a problem seeing how I tend to go overboard when describing violence and "unpublished" (read: stories that I have not posted online for the enjoyment of others) stories that I've written have been pretty graphic. I understand we're all mature individuals here, but there is such thing as me writing something that one person finds fantastic but another is horrified by the descriptiveness and what I decided to do to this person or that.


Chapter 1: The Godtaught

Being a God of Knowledge, Amerigo knew about and how to do many things. While he had no idea when he first started adventuring all those years ago that he would eventually become a God, he had a boundless curiosity that served him even unto his days as a God. It started with armorsmithing, stoneworking, and gemcutting with the Dwarves. When the masters of those professions considered his skill equal to theirs, he was allowed to forge weapons and jewelry with them and was afforded a full share of the profits for his work. As time went by, he grew restless working with the Dwarves, wanting to know more, so he left to find someone else who could teach him something he did not already know, leaving many to lament the loss of his work ethic and the fine goods he made. In time, he found a Moon Elf woman who taught him how to paint, as well as bore him four children he acknowledged despite the three children he had from an arranged marriage, all three of whom he refused to acknowledge. A Wood Elf taught him how to make bows and arrows. One Halfling taught him how to make and repair locks, and all the while, he watched and learned from a travelling companion how to make traps. When he had learned all he thought he could, he did what any master smith would do, he began teaching others the things he knew. While it would still be several hundred years before he would become a God, those he had trained had come in their own time to be considered second in skill only to him among people who knew him, while those who did not know Amerigo thought those he trained were the best they'd ever seen at what they did.

While Amerigo Keeler III was not a God of craftsmanship, those Gods and Goddesses whose names were associated with crafts of all varieties had in short time come to respect him for the work he did. Being a highly talented smith, the Teacher personally outfitted every member of the more militant branches of his faith. He even forged new armor for a new ally, Moradin, chief God of the Dwarves, who approached him with an offer of alliance, so impressed was he with the God of Many Things' forge skills.

After Amerigo had ascended, he continued teaching mortals how to paint or forge weapons or cut gems or any other thing he knew how to do. As easy as things were for a God of his power, he had but to think of something that would aid his followers and the appropriate followers would be rendered the appropriate aid, he still felt the need to physically do something. He never could stand doing nothing, in life or undeath, so teaching, physically instructing his students in whatever it was they had come to him to learn, showing them proper stances for hammering metal at the forge or actually making an arrow from wood and feather to show how thick an arrow's shaft should be, gave him something to do while he so effortlessly attended the needs of those who requested his aid. He also had an enduring reputation as an excellent, if difficult to persuade, teacher of magic and physical combat, particularly with the schools of Evocation and Abjuration and with the scythe, although he absolutely refused to teach anyone, not even his proselytizer and full-time apprentice, Jerlys Abaeir, his own chosen school of Necromancy.

Unfortunatley for the Great Lich, who was perfectly content to simply teach mortals anything they may wish to learn from him, the demands of a God often forced him to end classes earlier than he should have liked. He knew in his heart before he ascended that he would be at odds with other Gods and Goddesses and moving to block their machinations would take precedence over his students. His chief rivals included a deity known as Rallaster, who was called the Razor God, a Demigod known as Doresain, whose sole interest was the dominance of Ghouls over other undead and the living, and Lolth, the Goddess of evil Drow. He was at odds with other deities, but these three ate away at the bulk of his time. Part of him knew he'd never truly be rid of them, but that didn't stop him from trying to gain dominance over them so he wouldn't have to worry about their plots overmuch. Sadly, for a God things are never so easy. When a rival deity is deposed, another steps up to take their place. In some instances, the deposed God or Goddess actually returns and gains greater power. Amerigo knew his work would never be done, but his followers could triumph over his rivals' mortal servants.


It's kind of short, but that's all I've got. It'll get better, I promise.

Chapter 2: Rallaster

The Razor God watched the battle for Highrock with sadistic glee. His own followers were aiding The Lich-God's without them being the wiser, and the followers of that short-sighted failure, Gruumsh, fell like wheat. The battle would be won soon, and the citizens would thank Amerigo's followers and give them all the credit. That was fine with Rallaster. That was what he wanted. He had plans for Highrock. Big plans. A smile crept across his face. Just a little longer, Gruumsh, he thought to himself, and the survivors of your so-called faithful will join me instead! And when they do, the first thing I'll have them do is hunt down your priests and kill them all! He was focused on Gruumsh, God of Orcs, for now, but Rallaster wasn't about to abandon his plans for Highrock. They'd just have to wait until Gruumsh's power was his own. He was tired of life as a God with what little power he had. He needed more, and bringing more into the fold by whatever means necessary would eventually give him just that.

His divine emissary on earth, a particularly violent Drow named Tebryn Glannath, was there, awaiting his God's orders. Never once in his life did he question Rallaster's orders. It was Rallaster who ordered him to kill everyone in his family and liberate himself from normal Drow society. No, not ordered, allowed. Yes, Rallaster gave him the permission he needed to do that. Lolth wouldn't have done that. Lolth didn't care about male Drow. Tebryn would have been lost without the Razor God. He knew he was different from others of his own kind, and while Lolth rewarded those with the murderous tendencies he displayed, there was only so much she would give him. She'd tell him to stop eventually, all those he could have worshipped would have told him to stop eventually. But Rallaster understood. Rallaster liked that. Rallaster would never have told him to stop. Rallaster even killed Tebryn's former deity, Erythnul, former God of Slaughter, until the Razor God took that power for his own.

"Tebryn Glannath, my most loyal servant," the Insane God purred, "I have something I want you to do." He turned to face his divine emissary, noticing the eagerness and anticipation in the Drow's eyes. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I know how thirsty you must be to taste blood after all this time. Rejoice! For soon, you will be able to taste all the blood you can drink! I need you to gather the faithful in Highrock, including our new converts, and lead them on a hunting expedition. You're hunting Orc. In particular, you're searching out priests of my enemy, Gruumsh. Kill any of his priests you find, but leave them who are not priests alive! I need worshippers. Do you understand what I want you to do?"

Not lifting his head, the Drow said, "Yes, O Razor-Fleshed One."

"Good," the Razor God said, a sadistic smile on his face, "Go, and kill all of Gruumsh's priests, and when you have had your fill, come back to me. There are other things I need you to do."

The Drow stood, still keeping his gaze averted, and bowed. "Your word is law, My Lord. May the Razor's Edge slice through all of Your enemies." Before he could leave, there was one thing Tebryn must do. He drew a dagger and dragged the blade down the length of his chest, drawing blood. He did this slowly, oh, so slowly, to prolong the pain he felt. The beautiful, beautiful pain! He heard his God say nothing, but he knew. He knew Rallaster was pleased. Gaze still averted, chest still bleeding, the Drow bowed low and maintained the posture until he was out of his God's sight, when, much to his own disgust with himself, he cast a healing spell on himself to stop the bleeding. He knew he'd be useless if he bled to death, but bleeding for his God was the only way he could truly show his appreciation for all that the Razor God had afforded him. His wound healed, but the wonderful pain still lingering, Tebryn Glannath began the long trek for Highrock. There were Orc to kill.

Wow, and now a Drow protagonist. Awesome man! I know that we've seen Drow protagonists before, but not quite with such unnoble intentions. Quite a pairing and I would actually feel bad for any Orcs in the way.