A Clash of Deities

An AI depiction of the Onyx Temple from Deity

Deleted scene from Chapter V: Retain, Repair, Rebuild

Faeron was hit hard by the sudden force of complete silence. Every word, whisper, cheer, hush, cry, and tap of foot in the lounge was gone. Beneath Faeron's feet, a circle of antidecible speakers lit bright blue. His displays changed as well. Now, Faeron saw a wheel of different biomes, famous settings from the deity novels, on the left and a gridded layout of his domain on the right.

Quickly, Faeron set to work. He knew Quinn would be using a beast team centered around Vykette, which gave him some advantage in planning. His mind went straight to Magnarius the Hunter, a veteran rifleman and trapper. The hunter leader was popular for his bag of traps that could be deployed in different biomes and was especially effective against beasts.

Diving into his terminal, Faeron began selecting his lands. He set his backline to a desert sandwiched between two mountains. While the sands would slow Vykette's advance and tire his beasts, the mountains would provide an even more treacherous alternative. Faeron's frontline had mountains on either side as well. A square of densely forested woodland between the peaks made Faeron's whole domain into a funnel. The woodland would set a perfect stage for an ambush, and if Vykette fled to the desert, he and his beasts would be easy pickings.

Faeron's half of the table was now a wondrous fantasy world. Towering mountains walled an impossible valley where lifeless sands met untamed forest. Shortly after Faeron finished, Quinn's fog fell away, revealing his half of the map.

"Oh, look, a two line split," muttered Faeron to himself, "how creative."

Quinn had a full backline of rolling hills, ripe with vicious looking thorns. They plunged steeply into a row of murky swampland. The dark waters, shrouded by mists filled with dark looming shapes, met Faeron's mountains and forests beneath the glass divider. The heavy fog returned to Quinn's side of the field, masking all of his domain. Then, a voice spoke in the silence.

"Deity, name your champion," said the Nameless Prophet, Deity's behind-the-scenes assistant. His aged voice crackled all around Faeron piercing the quiet like thunder.

"I choose Magnarius," said Faeron, confidently.

"The manling, wild as the beasts he hunts," cooed the Nameless Prophet, "And who would you have stand by the hunter's side?"

"Use my standard trapping set," said Faeron, and the display changed to show the fantasy fighters from his collection. Magnarius stood out, his muscular frame less than half the height of his companions. Beside him were two archers, Vaeris Rhee, a roguish human in dark leathers, and Brokoklok the Hillbauk, a robed bird-man with twin black beaks extending past his frayed hood. The last two fighters, Briipit and Bruupuh, were a pair of fomaubs, spotted grey frog-folk. Their steel-tipped tongues were laced with potent neurotoxins and their hardy stone shells were excellent camouflage in many biomes. "Looks good," confirmed Faeron. Next, he had to decide where to spawn his fighters. He could choose from any of Quinn's backline zones, but Faeron decided the path of least resistance would be straight down the middle. "Go ahead and drop them at spawn point B," he commanded, and a beacon of light was born in the distant fog of Quinn's domain.

On the left display, Faeron could now see through the eyes of his champion, Magnarius. With Quinn's half of the field shrouded in a cloud, this was his only view of the vicious looking thorn bushes covering the high rising hills around Magnarius and his crew. There were few trees here, but far in the south, the sweeping rooftop of a towering black-stone temple peeked over the hills. It would be slow moving for Magnarius and the others. The thorns would take a toll if approached head-on, and the only way through the dense bushes were narrow pathways that, in the novels, were left by countless pilgrims in their journey to the onyx temple.

Another beacon was lit, pulling Faeron's attention back to the table. He was surprised to see Quinn had chosen to place his troops in Faeron's mountains rather than the desert. The light blazed from a high ridge on the right side of Faeron's backline. He couldn't hear the voices of the crowd, but it was clear from their curious glances back and forth that they too were surprised by Quinn's placement.

"My deity," a deep guttural voice spoke in the silence, "what be yer command?"

Through his display, Faeron could see the two archers and the shelled fomaubs looking expectantly to Magnarius for instructions.

"A moment Magnarius," said Faeron. "Let's see what we're up against. Prophet, can I get backline C on the right display?"

"Of course," cooed the prophet's voice.

On his right, he saw the mountain ridge where Vykette had just finished relaying Quinn's orders to his beasts. There were two great birds, tall as a man, roosting on the rocks and a pair of black jungle cats circling their leader as he spoke. With a raise of Vykette's trident, the pack sprang into motion, descending the cliffside toward a nearby ravine. There, Faeron knew, they would find Hellburrow, the mountain zone's dungeon. Similar to the Onyx Temple in the hills, Hellburrow held power that Vykette could claim for Quinn in order to cast any number of game-changing miracles. Vykette and his two great birds plunged ahead of the cats, who were making swift enough time down the slope. Bounding from rock to rock, they seemed entirely unafraid of falling into the depths below.

"Alright, Magnarius, your target is a beast pack," said Faeron. "They're dungeoning, and it's a long one, too. That means a big miracle heading your way if you're not home before they reach the end. You'll need to move fast, push straight back to our domain. The onyx temple is tempting; there's a lot of power in there, but if you reach our domain before they get out, you shouldn't need the miracle. Your traps are a hard counter."

"Simple enough," barked Magnarius. "The path ahead?"

"You're in the Penitent Hills, narrow paths and nasty thorns as you can see. The bushes are only half the threat though. Center-back thorns means there's a goerrabiit pack somewhere in the zone. You won't be able to down 'em all yourselves, but they're easy enough to spook."

"Smoke bomb oughta do it," said Magnarius.

"Once you're through, swamps are up next."

"Hate swamps," growled Magnarius.

"They do seem like the worst. I really don't envy you," said Faeron. "However... on the other side awaits a nice stretch of woodlands, perfect for trapping. Even got some mountain to funnel 'em into you."

"No time to waste then," grunted Magnaries. "Alright lot," he turned his attention to the other fighters, "we're making a line for the homeland. You best keep up because there's no slowin' down for stragglers. Once we hit forest, we use the trees to get the drop on these feral wogrogs. Archers in the branches, fomaubs in the dirt. You two, take these!" Magnarius pulled two long rifles from over his shoulder and handed them to the human and hillbauk. "Don't worry, yer a born natural I'm sure. Now let's be movin!"

Magnarius and the archers had little issue navigating the thorny trail. Briipit and Bruupuh, on the other hand, kept catching their unruly shells on the thorns. Fumbling about in an attempt to free themselves, the fomaubs' soft front-sides were soon covered in painful-looking scratches. The hunters followed the narrow trails up a high crested hill, and, from its peak, they could see back to the forests and high mountains of their home domain.

"You see the path, there," grunted Magnarius, pointing out over the hill, "we take it all the way down to..." As Magnarius spoke, Faeron spied a rustling in the bushes. Magnarius must have spotted it as well, for he stopped mid-sentence to bark, "Arm yourselves! Look to the bushes!" It was more than wind, something was moving towards the hunters, many somethings, in fact. All around them, the bushes shook.

"Goerrabbits!" exclaimed Faeron.

"Circle up," roared Magnarius, and, as one fluid unit, his hunters fell in line. "tight now, tighter! Force them into the open!" Magnarius reached into a pouch on his belt and flung handfuls of what looked like little green seeds in a wide ring around the hunters. "Ready weapons, focus the spores, not the beasts. Hold it..." A dozen fanged furry blurs leaped from the bushes. "NOW!" ordered Magnarius.

Gunfire rang out, then came a sharper crackling as, all around them, spores erupted in a chain reaction of emerald smoke.

"You'll want to hold yer breath," instructed Magnarius, and the hunters did as they were told. It didn't take long for the emerald smoke to clear, and the hunters breathed safely once more. Faeron could now make out dozens of fanged rodents lying motionless in the grass. "Good on you lot" shouted Magnarius, "but we haven't beat 'em all. The pack's spooked, but there's nothin but their own fear stoppin' 'em from coming back. Keep yer eyes sharp in the hills ahead."

Checking in on Quinn's troops, Faeron could see Vykette and the others were making swift progress. While Faeron was hoping Quinn would lose a bird or cat to the trap-ridden halls of the Hellburrow, it appeared the whole pack was so far unscathed. Faeron's monitor followed close behind the beasts as Vykette studied a door covered in locks of different shapes and colors.

"I recognize that door," whispered Faeron to himself. "Magnarius! The beasts are halfway through their dungeon. You'll have a miracle heading your way before long."

"Dandy," growled Magnarius.

"I've got an idea," said Faeron. "Briipit and Bruupuh are slowing you down with those oversized shells. That said, they'll be far faster than you in the swamps. If you go on ahead now, they should catch up just before you reach home."

"But my deity," grumbled Magnarius, "They'll be defenseless."

"Not if you leave spores behind you," contested Faeron. "A tongue-strike should be enough to spark the reaction if goerabbits give them trouble. Once they reach the swamps, Briipit and Bruupuh should be fine. It's their home terrain, after all."

"Alright lot," barked Magnarius, turning to his troops. "We're picking up the pace. You, fomaubs, hate to say it but yer slowin us down. If ye fall behind, we can't wait on ye. Ye'll catch up plenty quick in the swamps, but ye'll be fendin for yerselves until then. I'll leave a trail of these spores, set em off with yer tongues if there's trouble. Right, now if there's no questions..."

Faeron's fighters began again at a run. It wasn't long before Vaeris and Brokoklok were covered in just as many scratches as the fomaubs, who were now a hill and a half behind the others. By the time Magnarius crossed the final crest and waded into the murky waters of the swamp, Briipit and Bruupuh were nowhere in sight. Across the table, in Quinn's domain, Faeron could see the beacon marking his troops had split in two."

"Deity, the frogs anywhere close?" asked Magnarius, his eyes mere inches above the dark brown waters.

"A quarter zone between you," said Faeron, "maybe even a third."

"Onward then," grunted Magnarius. "And you two, keep your eyes peeled for swamp-goats. Never underestimate a swamp-goat."

Brokoklok clicked his twin beaks, and they pressed on through the waste-deep waters, guns at the ready. Moving through the swamp was slow. Visibility was low due to the milky mist that hung about the air and Magnarius' head bobbing in and out of the water didn't make it any easier for Faeron to see. On the other monitor, Vykette's beasts had cleared the puzzle door and were in the final hallway. Its walls were built with bricks of silver and gold and glittering gemstone chandeliers hung from the high ceiling.

"Lookout, Magnarius," called Faeron. "Miracle's coming any time now."

"Whe-gh- where ar-ghe -cough- where are those damn frogs?" croaked Magnarius, fighting to keep his mouth above the water.

Faeron glanced across the board. The second beacon was nearly out of Quinn's backline. "Minutes away," said Faeron. "They'll reach the swamp any-"

Light erupted from the table, and Faeron looked up to see the heavy fog around Magnarius' beacon glowing bright white. The whole crowd jumped excitedly, and, daring a glance up to Quinn, Faeron saw an evil grin across his friend's face.

Panicked, Faeron looked to Magnarius' view just in time for the still swamp water to begin to recede into the trees.

"What in the seven caverns?" gasped Magnarius.

Suddenly, a rushing sound filled the swamp, as if the earth itself were growling. At the edge of Magnarius, sight, the swamp canopy collapsed in on itself as a tidal wave, tall as the trees rushed toward the hunters. The mighty wave swept up everything in its path,

"Take cover," yelled Magnarius, looking frantically about, but there was no cover to take.

The wave crashed down on Magnarius and the hunters. All Faeron could see was brown swamp water and the occasional blur of Magnarius' panicked attempts to reach the surface. Soon, the screen began to grow even darker. For a minute, then two Faeron waited. Still, he couldn't see a thing.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of color. Magnarius broke the surface, held in the arms of Bruppuh. Clinging to the shell and coughing up a lungful of water, Magnarius looked out over the flood waters for the rest of his hunters.

"Commander," belched the other fomaub as he suddenly resurfaced. Briipit held Vaeris in one arm, coughing in fits but still breathing. "Look what is found. Show him, human."

Shakily, the hooded man held up the dismembered arm of Brokoklok, the hillbauk archer. "When I felt his hand," shivered Vaeris, "I thought I was saved. I felt this... wrenching tug, but we didn't go up. Then... that awful scream, muddled by the waves.

"By my Deity," whispered Magnarius, "the flooding's angered a swamp-goat. Briipit, Bruupuh, only you can hope to outswim the beast. Carry us home or we'll all perish here."

The fomaubs swam with great speed, while Magnarius and Vaeris clung to their shells. Turning back, Magnarius saw a shadow in the water, keeping pace about ten yards back. Suddenly the water broke as a mighty goat head, large enough to swallow him whole, rose above the surface. From its mouth hung a bloody boot and its yellow hourglass eyes were locked, unblinking, upon Magnarius.

"Have at ya ..." Magnarius reached over his shoulder, taking an old-fashioned pistol off his back. Wasting no time, the veteran hunter fired a shot, dead into the goat's right eye. A bleating screech rang out across the swampland, and the goat descended again.

"Faster, fomaubs! Faster!" roared Magnarius. "This fight isn't over." He looked back to his pursuer, but the goat was nowhere to be seen.

Just ahead of them, the water broke again and a blur of dirty grey fur shot skyward. For a fraction of a second, the horrible goat hung in midair, its terrible jaws spread wide, then it came crashing down on Magnarius.

Clang

At the last moment, the fomaub turned, tucking Magnarius beneath him. Faeron could see only brown water through Magnarius’ eyes, but he heard a second terrible screech, muffled by the water.

Magnarius resurfaced to see the swamp goat, seemingly paralyzed, mouth open above the waves, its front teeth shattered by the fomaub's shell. Magnarius grabbed his rifle and fired straight into the goat's gaping maw. The beast shuddered and sank beneath the waves.

"Alright, alright! Good werk you lot, but the fight ain't over," called Magnarius, panting as the fomaub continued to swim. "We're nearly home now, and we'll need every trap placed perfect if we're going to win this without the hillbauk."

His words inspired a second wind in the frightened-looking Vaeris, whose cloak was stained by his fellow hunter's blood. By the time Faeron's troops reached the wooded shores of his domain, safe from Quinn's watching eye, Vykette and his beasts were nearly out of the mountains. The cats zig-zagged down the mountainside, while Vykette and the great birds waited patiently in the trees below.

"Magnarius, they're on the far end of the woods," said Faeron. "You're outnumbered, two birds, a pair of cats, and the leader, but with the right traps, I'm sure you can handle them. Let me see if I can find a good spot to set up... Prophet, show me my front-center."

Magnarius's monitor shifted to an overview of the forest that he and his hunters had just entered. Faeron spied the perfect clearing, a short distance ahead of his fighters.

"Alright, back to Magnarius," said Faeron. "Magnarius, can you hear me?"

"Aye," grunted the hunter as Faeron's view shifted back to his perspective.

"There's a clearing, about twenty yards out," reported Faeron, "dead ahead through those blue bushes. Good cover for traps. Just be careful, their commander can buff up his beasts. Not sure on the specifics, but confirm your kills."

"Roger," barked Magnarius, then he turned to his remaining troops. "Alright lot, we're four against five, but that just makes things interesting. They've got cats, which means pheromone traps will force them into the open. We've got a nice clearing just over yonder to set up. Vaeris, take these web traps and set 'em up in the branches. Fomaub, you know what to do." Over the next minutes, Magnarius and Vaeris set numerous traps while Briipit and Bruupuh curled up, camouflaging their shells as a pair of boulders.

It didn't take long once the pheromone traps started smoking for Quinn's cats to catch its scent. On his right monitor, Faeron watched as the cats broke off from Vykettes pack. Vykette paused a moment, looking as though he were conversing with Quinn. At the beastman's command, the two birds flew off in pursuit of the cats. Vykette, meanwhile, hung back a distance, approaching much slower.

"Prophet," said Faeron, "keep following Vykette on the right monitor."

All the beacons on the table grew close now, and, through Magnarius eyes, perched in the branches of a tree, Faeron watched as the jungle cats prowled into the clearing and sniffed the smoking trap.

Crack-Crack

Two shots rang out from the trees and one cat dropped limp to the soil. The second cat was broken instantly from the trance of the pheromone. It leaped toward what it thought to be a boulder, as if to springboard into the trees, when the fomaub sprang up beneath its paws. The cat was hurled across the forest floor and slid back first into a tree trunk. Before it could right itself, Bruupuh's toxic tongue shot across the clearing, stabbing into the cat's exposed chest. The beast shivered. Its limbs grew rigid and began swinging wildly.

"Karaaah!" Two great birds crashed into the clearing. One landed in front of the convulsing cat, only to be met by a hail of bullets intended for its wounded companion. The bird spread its wings to flee, but the next shot struck a rope, hidden in the branches behind the bird. A heavy net dropped from the canopy onto the great bird, its ends coming magically together, sealing the beast. It was a helpless target for two more volleys before going still. The remaining bird descended on Bruupuh, snatching the lip of the fomaub's shell in its talons and carrying him skyward.

Wriggling upside down, Bruppuh couldn't get an angle on the bird for a tongue strike. Instead, the fomaub tucked his arms and slipped from his shell, landing deftly on the forest floor.

The bird froze in the air, realizing its prey had slipped away, but the pause was all Magnarius needed. Bullets from both gunners struck the bird. A second volley followed. Screeching, the great bird plummeted. It flapped one wing wildly, the other limp at its side, but its attempts to gain height were futile. As its cries grew weaker, the bird stopped struggling and, instead, straightened out like a lance. Bruppuh ran for his shell as it tumbled to the ground from the bird's limp claws, but he wasn't fast enough. Its aim, impeccable, the great bird breathed its last just before spearing Bruppuh.

"Deity, I don't see the commander" barked Magnarius, taking a moment's pause to scan the trees.

Faeron looked to his other display. Vykette was just beyond the clearing now, maybe thirty feet out, but he didn't seem to be interested in joining the fray.

"I bet he's keeping just close enough to buff his beasts," said Faeron. "Maybe he's hoping they'll set off all your traps."

"Coward," growled Magnarius. "Alright Vaeris, let's finish off this... cat." As Magnarius looked to where the first bird had fallen, tangled in his net trap, the cat the bird had defended was nowhere in sight.

"Where?" called Vaeris. "I don't see-" Snap.

"Lookout," roared Magnarius, but his shot was too late. The jungle cat was not only back on its feet, it was now mid-pounce, striking at Vaeris from a lower branch. Magnarius hit the cat dead in the eye, but not before Vaeris's bloody body fell limp in its grasp. "Damned beasts," roared Magnarius, firing another three rounds into the cat.

"Brippit, I need your eyes more than your shell," growled Magnarius. The fomaub rose, observing the bodies all around it. "Keep an eye out that way," instructed Magnarius, pointing off to the east mountains, just visible beyond the canopy. "I'll watch over here. That coward has to be somewhere."

"Coward?" came a bold voice from the brush. "No, I think not." Vykette strolled proudly. The trident he held was now glowing. Whatever this light was, Faeron hadn't seen it before.

"No more beasties to juice up so ye've come to forfeit have ye?" called Magnarius from the trees. "Boring way to go."

"Actually," said Vykette, "my deity insisted I be showy about things. You see, I don't just empower beasts as your deity may have told you. Every beast you've slain has made my trident stronger. Allow me to demonstrate."

Vykette leaped across the clearing, trident aimed at Brippit. Magnarius fired, but a single bullet was hardly enough to stop the Beastman leader. Brippit ducked into cover, but even his shell couldn't stop Vykette's trident. A single blow was all it took to piece the shell and slay the last fomaub.

"By my Deity," gasped Magnarius. "I swear I'll kill you." He took aim again, firing, and once again, Vykette took the blow with only the slightest flinch.

"I look forward to your next attempt," smiled Vykette triumphantly. Despite his size, the beastman moved impossibly fast. Wings spread wide, he rushed headlong into the trees, and, with a flash of gold, Magnarius' screen went black. 

Looking for a map of Irasil? Check out this Post!