A Dance of Mischief and Rage

MY MAIN ACCOUNT

[Though this entry doesn't have any significant info on the lore of this world, it does establish Rythos' and Tenial's relationship. I wanted Tenial to meet Rythos a lot earlier, but I scrapped that idea and made this version instead ]

[ THIS IS A REUPLOAD FROM MY MAIN ACCOUNT ]

[ CHARACTERS INVOLVED: Rythos Cyaegle and Tenial de Bravura (with a brief mention of Vyrtis Theimos) ]

"The gods are gone, the dusk descends,
The whispers rise, the silence ends.
A mortal king on a throne of bone,
Now reaps the harvest he has sown."

Tenial sat perched on a moss-covered ruin, legs crossed, nonchalantly dodging a bone-serpent that lunged for his head. The creature’s fangs missed his feathered musketeer hat by an inch. He didn’t flinch, merely finishing his chord with a flourish. With a snap of his fingers, a tangle of roots snaked from the earth and tied the serpent into an undignified knot.

Humming, he hopped down and began a jaunty stroll toward the flicker of torchlight in the distance. Divinity Breaker territory, where the godless mortals had fortified what remained of civilization with blood, steel, and sheer spite. It was a fortress carved from repurposed god-temples, spiked barricades reinforced with divine wreckage. Rythos stood at the center, barking orders to his commanders and soldiers. His massive silver spear gleamed in the dusk light.

"Northwest quadrant, double the sentries." Rythos said. "If anything moves, kill it. No exceptions—"

Rythos's head snapped toward a sound coming from the treeline behind him. His amber eyes, glowing through the slits in his helmet, locked onto the figure in the trees. A fox. Devil horns. Bat wings. Strumming a gods-damned ukulele while monsters tore through the realm.

"Take command," Rythos growled to his second, gripping his spear. "I'll handle this."

Tenial emerged from the forest, still humming, ukulele now resting on his shoulder. He looked utterly unbothered by the carnage around him, or the nearly-seven-foot armored wolf stalking toward him with weapons designed to kill gods.

"Well, hello there!" Tenial said brightly, waving. "Lovely evening for a massacre, wouldn't you say? I'd bow to you, but I have a feeling you'd despise the gesture."

Rythos stopped ten feet away, helmet gleaming beneath the crimson moon. The chains around his arms rattled with each steady step. His voice was a gravelly snarl. "Elysoth's half-brother."

"Oh, you remember! How sweet." Tenial tilted his head. "Most people just call me 'that asshole with the ukulele,' but I'll take familial recognition."

Rythos' grip tightened on his spear. "Either you're brave, or you're the stupidest sack of shit I've ever had to share the same air with."

Tenial grinned. "De Bravura. It's right there in the name. Hereditary trait. I'll let you figure it out, big guy."

"Give me one reason I shouldn't cut you down where you sit."

"Because," Tenial said, standing and grabbing his ukulele from his back, "I was just about to invite you on a lovely nature walk. You know, see the sights. The blood-soaked ruins. The eldritch abominations. Really take in the ambiance of what you've created here."

Rythos scoffed, as if the accusation was beneath him. "I didn't create this."

"No, no, of course not," Tenial said, waving a hand dismissively. "You just killed all the gods in Threnor, shattered the cosmic barriers, and then acted shocked when the monsters showed up. Totally unrelated events."

"I freed the mortals from tyranny."

"And replaced divine oppression with literal hellspawn. Truly, a visionary."

"I'm going to fucking kill you."

"Sure you are, big guy. But maybe after we deal with the bone-serpents? Priorities and all." Tenial started walking back into the forest, hands behind his head. "Come on, Decimator. Let's see if you're as good as they say."

Rythos stared. "You can't seriously be asking me to walk with you."

"Unless you'd prefer to sit? I hear there's a lovely flesh-pit two clicks north—"

A bone-serpent erupted from the earth between them. Rythos cleaved it in half before it could fully surface, divine-killing steel singing through corrupted flesh. Tenial plucked a string on his ukulele, and the creature's severed halves launched themselves into a cluster of approaching ghouls.

"See?" Tenial said brightly. "We're practically a team already."

Rythos said nothing, but he didn't sheath his blade. Instead, he began walking, tracking the densest concentration of monsters. Tenial fell into step beside him, humming.

"You know," the trickster mused as Rythos eviscerated a shadow-wolf, "we do have a common enemy here. These things aren't exactly discerning about who they eat—gods, mortals, god-slayers with anger management issues..."

"I don't have—" Rythos's chains lashed out, pulverizing three ghouls. "—anger management issues."

"Of course not. That display was perfectly measured aggression." Tenial casually clapped his hands once, causing a charging beast to trip over its own suddenly-reversed feet. "Very therapeutic."

Rythos didn't break stride. He swung his sword in a brutal arc, cleaving through three of them in one motion, their bodies disintegrating into black ash. He spun, drove his spear through another one thrice his size, and kicked its corpse into a fifth. Meanwhile, Tenial danced between the monsters like he was performing at a festival. A werewolf lunged at him; he tapped his feet on the ground, and its legs suddenly tangled together, sending it tumbling into a tree. Another charged; he hummed a note, turning monsters' own momentum against them.

"You fight like a fucking jester who got their limbs replaced with an orc's limp ," Rythos said after watching Tenial make an abyss-hound’s shadow wrap around its body like chains.

"And you fight like you're compensating for something," Tenial shot back as he sidestepped another attack. "Relax, Rythos. We're on the same side here. We're practically alike!"

"We are nothing alike."

"We both kill things that need killing. That's basically friendship."

"I'll add you to that list."

"Ooh, kinky."

Rythos snarled behind his helmet. "When this is over—"

"You'll kill me, yes, I know. You've mentioned it. Repeatedly. Getting a bit repetitive, honestly." Tenial flipped a coin that bumped onto an approaching werewolf, disorienting them and letting it impale itself on Rythos's waiting spear. "Might want to diversify your threats. 'I'll flay you,' 'I'll mount your head on a spike,' get creative!"

By the time they reached a clearing littered with dissolving corpses, Rythos was vibrating with barely contained rage.

"There!" Tenial spread his arms theatrically. "All cleared out. Teamwork makes the dream work, as they say. Or nightmare work, in this case."

He turned, tipping his hat. "This has been delightful, truly. We should do it again sometime. Maybe brunch? I know this lovely tavern that serves the most divine ambrosia. Oh wait, you killed the guy who made it—"

Rythos lunged, switched to his spear, and aimed at Tenial's heart. "You're not leaving."

Tenial was already moving backward, hands raised. "Ah-ah-ah! Before you increase your deicide count... what are we at now, fifty-seven? Fifty-eight? I should mention—"

"I'm done listening to you."

"—I hear a storm approaching."

Rythos heard nothing but the distant sounds of his camp and the rustling of leaves. "There's no storm."

Tenial's grin returned, sharp and knowing. "Not a weather one, no."

Before Rythos could respond, his own ears perked up too. A presence emerged from the direction of the Bifrost, making even the corrupted forest recoil. Rythos' claws unconsciously dug into the hilt of his weapons.

Vyrtis emerged from between the trees like divine retribution given form, his twin katanas already drawn, and the scars across his arms glowing faintly with barely-contained power. His eyes swept the clearing, taking in Tenial, the monster corpses, and finally settling on Rythos with an intensity that promised judgment.

Tenial gave a cheerful little wave. "Right on time! I'll leave you two to... whatever this is going to be." He turned to Rythos with a wink. "Try not to die, yeah? I've got enough souls to process as it is. Toodles!" And with that, the God of Death simply walked away, ukulele already strumming a new tune, leaving Rythos face-to-face with the God of Retribution.