10,000 years ago the Gods vanished and the nature of magic itself was altered. Now the Universium controls everything from the shadows and it will do whatever is necessary to protect the secrets of it's foundation.
Possessed since childhood Grace is determined to see the worlds Gods restored. Compelled to destroy evil and cut off from the people around him the price of success may be his humanity and then the world will burn with him but with magic becoming increasingly unstable and the dead outnumbering the living that may be the lesser of two evils.
Callie thought she had the perfect life until her fiance tried to rape her. Desperate for revenge she turns to the cities enigmatic high mage for help and finds herself drawn into a world of Heresy and secrets that she never imagined
After several months of searching there was only one God left for them to visit on Calarie. Endric, God of Slaughter. Callie got the distinct impression that Grace and Selysin had hoped to avoid him. Unlike the other War Gods Endric actually had a Temple; the victors of a great battle had built one to him on the barrow of their fallen soldiers in the middle of the battle field. At some point in the last 10,000 years the Temple had been buried and was now only accessible by a network of caves. The Hounds went first, exploring the caves while they slept and returning as the sun rose to lead them into the Temple.
Callie had to fight back nausea when they entered the Temple. The floors had been enamelled to look like corpses and squished slightly under her feet, some were whole save for the bloody stab wounds, others had been ripped apart and some had decomposed, leaving a few scraps of flesh to adorn bloody and splintered bones. Not all of the corpses were human, she saw dogs and horses as well and other races she had no names for. The walls were the colour of blood and glistened wetly, a closer look showed that they were made of blood sheathed weapons. A vast swarm of arrows pointed down at them from the ceiling their shafts stained with sweat and their tips red with blood that seemed just about to drip on them. Dark shadows flew across the room picking at the carpet of corpses. The shadows rose up into the air around them as they crossed the room and Callie recognised them as crows and ravens. The air tasted of blood and human excrement and made Callie want to gag and the only sound was the soft rustle of wings and their own passage across the nauseating floor.
“I never could decide which was worse” Selysin murmered quietly, “Endric or his followers.” She stared around the room in disgust. The alter was made of grinning blood stained skulls picked clean of flesh. “Who dares to enter my Temple?” The voice boomed and echoed, seeming to come from all around them. A man appeared, standing on the alter of skulls. Over two metres tall and broad and muscular. He was dressed in heavy plate armour that was the colour of fresh blood and had been etched in bone white with scenes of battle that constantly shifted and changed. A great sword hung across his back unsheathed and dripping blood. His black hair was matted, oily and soaked in sweat. His checks were ruddy and clean shaven and his brown eyes were bright with battle lust. Under one arm he held a horned helm worked into a snarling visage. “Endric” Grace murmered to Selsyin just as quietly.
“Three little mice come into my Temple” roared Endric when thee echoes faded. “Give me your names little mice so that I might properly honour your corpses.”
“Is that anyway to greet a fellow God?” Selysin asked as the Hounds appeared around them with their hackles raised. They stared at Endric snapping and snarling. “Valatri, what a nice surprise; I always thought you didn’t like me. The other little mice still need to introduce themselves though.” Callie was beginning to wonder if Endric could speak in anything other than a booming roar. “No Endric we do not. Tell us what we want to know and we will leave,” Grace replied levelly.
“Brave, very brave but also very foolish young mortal. I will not converse with nameless trespassers.” The arrows on the ceiling rustled and began to descend. Grace raised a hand, bright flames dancing on his fingertips. Endric laughed, “A little fire magic won’t help you mage, I am a God!”
“A dispossessed God” Grace said the fire growing.
“Every few years the armies of Talan and Garfin clash on the plains outside my Temple and pay their bloody tribute to me, I can crush you like the little mice you are.”
“I’m not a mouse.” Grace smiled and the flames arched up and formed a great dome over them just as the arrows fell. The arrows hit the dome and exploded the metal melting under the intense heat and splattering across the room as the wood and fletching’s flashed into ash in a second and gently rained down upon them. “That’s a pretty trick mouse. I’ll have to use your corpse to clean my walls.” Endric settled the helm on his head but left the visor up as he reached for his great sword. Grace stepped forward his eyes glowing golden, “are you sure you want to do that Endric, you won’t survive my flames.” Endrics hands dropped away from his great sword. “Phoenix” he spat, “what is it that you wish to know?”