The Plains of Bohar… it was an interesting thing; realizing the time and events had a habit of repeating themselves to a degree. Icarus had entered this world from the skies above here a few short years ago after the destruction of Daeluin. Now, he was aiding a group of soldiers that were supported by mercenaries and adventurers from Adeluna to push back the invading creatures if the Void. Yet, it was concerning for him in a few ways.

The masked hermit had spent most of his time since his arrival within the Void. It was a unique experience, living within what one considered the Unstructured, though he happened to have recently come across a particular… anomaly. Throughout his adulthood, his mastery over the Void had been somewhat different than that which they described previously. Even before he left his own world, the Void had been present and had been different to a degree he could not explain.

There had been no living creatures, only an endless landscape similar to the Unstructured. This led Icarus to now postulate that his own Void, the transitive location between all that was real, had partially merged with the Void of this realm. It was the only way he could reconcile the differences in how others perceived it compared to himself, especially when he had known and passed through it while in separate realities. Alas, even his realization gave no additional insight concerning the origin of these creatures.

As he looked around, Icarus could see the weary faces of the comrades he had been assisting throughout the past several days. It had been continuous fighting as the monsters from the Void had no conception of biorhythms nor any necessity to see by daylight. The people he was signed on with were skeptical of him, addressing him as “Voidwalker”. Some of their misgivings probably stemmed from the fact he never removed his mask.  It made no difference to him. He was only concerned with the success of the battle.

The armies were arrayed in such a fashion that his unit was roughly regarded as skirmishers, assisting the eastern flank in reducing enemy numbers before they came to meet the main line of soldiers. So far, he’d been operating at night, aided by his proficiency in optimizing his senses. The new orders that came in this evening were a bit on the dangerous side. The enemy numbers were beginning to relent, somewhat, and the goal of the skirmishers was to establish a small safe zone half a kilometer ahead if the eastern flank’s line of progress. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but went outside the communal tents to meet the rest of the night operations unit as new adventurers had come to join up the fight.

A shiver ran down Raith's spine, and he smiled to himself, the sheer force of the power that now flowed through his body, would take some time to get use to. All the Voice had done was open up Raith's true potential and enhance his natural abilities… well, maybe not entirely, but the anger in his heart had been there since the moment of his birth, it had fuelled him before and now it was his very purpose in life was it not? 
He wondered what Alairia would think of his ascension; his mother had been there, and he had felt her surprise - but she did not know him, she had never really known him, she didn't realise just how powerful or ambitious her youngest child was… he intended on showing her of course. 

With the void tear temporarily fixed, he turned his attention back to the battlefield, awaiting Angela's call should his talents be required; for now he would head back onto the battlefield, dispense of the remaining creatures, and ensure that Alairia was safe from harm. Night was rapidly descending, which would mean that those who relied upon their sight, and did not have the sensitive eyes of, say, his family, would struggle in the darkness. But not him, night or day, it was all the same for him, since he lived in perpetual darkness. 
The Blind God smirked at that thought as he walked through the camp, his extra sensitive hearing picking out the conversations of those around him. Apparently there was a group heading out to pick off some of the stragglers on the field, looking to finish of the void creatures that lingered, ensuring that their troops would get the chance to rest fully, without the fear of an attack. 

It would be a good opportunity for the new Deity to stretch his limbs, and tap into this new side of himself - after all, there was so much more of this to explore, and so much of it that he had not yet worked out… He turned towards the group discussing their task, standing amongst them as he crossed his arms over his chest. "The sooner we go about this, the sooner it is done," he stated simply, irritated at the hesitation, "So, do we go?" 

As one of the newcomers spoke, hinting at their intent to begin the operation, Icarus felt slightly off. It wasn’t the standard arrogance of normal adventurers wanting puff our their chest and exude bravado all around them. It indicated to him the other man had some manner of trump card and it was about as simple as taking a walk. In a way, the Voidwalker had his own trump card, though it was far too inconvenient to deploy under most circumstances. 

”First reasonable words I’ve heard all night,” he mumbled as he tightened a strap on his mask that he had loosened before he slept earlier. Taking the moment to stretch his limbs and crack a few joints, he did a once-over on his gear. The light armor he wore under his tabard and cloak were undamaged from the past several days and both of his swords remained true. 

To him, that wasn’t much of a surprise. He had forged them with the aid of a master blacksmith as well as Hiro for temperature control. His own additions to the blade were the use of overlapping gate spells to forcibly entwine the compounds in it unnaturally, restructuring the concept of steel entirely. The hyper-density weapons were triple the normal density of other steel alloys, meaning the spines of them were almost as fine as the edges to reduce the weight to near-normal standards. In short, his katana and longsword could cut almost anything that existed in the world.

Stepping forth from the camp alongside dozens of adventurers, he departed for the external edge of the battlefield as weary soldiers and adventurers were swapped out with the new shift. Their unit in particular was assigned with perimeter skirmishing to canalize the enemy force to the front of their main force. It wasn’t a bad strategy, but they had to be more careful to ensure none slipped by them or outside of their flank lest they let one escape from the oncoming slaughter. With that concept at the forefront of his thoughts, Icarus ran quickly east by northeast to begin his work.

There was a shift close to him, and Raith cocked his head to one side slightly, sightless eyes covered by his blindfold so that he could avoid the unnecessary 'oh you cannot see' conversations. He had no time to cater to the ridiculousness of ignorant, unintelligent people, and he had even less patience for obvious statements such as that. As the man close by agreed with his words he nodded to him, not in thanks as such, so much as an acknowledgement that at least one of the people gathered amongst this sorry group had a brain between his ears… Raith could not say the same of many of the people he had the misfortune to meet. 

Raith had no weapons, not to speak of, he had his dagger should he require it - but he had long since learnt to use magic and his own brute strength as his weapon. Magic for range - keep your enemy far away from you, sadly being sightless did tend to put you at a disadvantage during such times as a fight, however should it come to it, brute strength for close combat - if those who dared call themselves his 'opponents' got too close, believing that they had the upper hand thanks to his affliction, then he made damn sure that they regretted such assumptions, and regretted them swiftly. 
Serci had learnt that lesson, he had believed that the blind man would back down if asked nicely, and so Raith had been forced to prove his strength, and that he was not to be underestimated. It had been unfortunate that Serci's talent for avoiding death lay in his association with Angela; but no matter, the man seemed to have vanished, replaced by Kiba, and Raith owed a debt to Angela in his way… not that he had any intention of ever uttering that truth out loud. Not if he could help it. 

The new God had pinpointed the scent of the man that had agreed with him previously; Raith was not foolish enough, even with his new found strength, to not appreciate allies when there were some to be had, and he found himself intrigued by those who thought the same way as he did. Following the man's scent, he stopped only to call upon his talents in Necromancy, as he had at the beginning of this infernal battle, leaving traces of his magic so that the undead would rise should anyone not allied to them, even consider to try and out flank them. No use leaving such things to chance.
Following the man through the darkness it was honestly hard to believe that Raith could not see, for he did not stumble and his stride was confident. Once he caught up with the man he stood close to him. "What is your name soldier?" He asked, his tone a mixture of indifference and sarcasm as it so often was. 

It almost came without him being able to hear the man approaching over the distant sounds of battle. The question he hadn’t heard in a while given that he was viewed as somewhat of an outsider. ”Ah lumping me in with those piles of flesh and steel over yonder? Icarus, more of a hermit and something they call a ’Voidwalker’,” he said in a hushed voice as he glanced over his shoulder. He at last noticed what appeared to be a blindfold over the man’s eyes, meaning he was either adeptly skilled or literally a blind fool. Given that he had managed to tail him through the dark, he determined with relative ease it was the former.

”I’d have your name as well lest I find myself yelling ‘you’ once we make contact with the enemy,” he stated quietly, intent to find out who this adventurer he hadn’t met previously in the camp. As he glanced around, he noticed a few humanoid objects in the distance. Judging from the unnatural gait and direction of travel, he determined they weren’t human. ”Hold… three targets roughly a hundred meters yonder around eleven from our position,” he whispered.

Drawing his katana from its scabbard at his hip quietly,  Icarus took a knee in the knee-height grass. Without taking his eyes off the targets, he placed a hand to the earth, scooping loose dirt, and rubbing it on his blade. The reflection of moonlight on a steel sword could give him away and he had learned this directly from personal experience. Sometimes, he was thankful to be living his fourth life. 

Beneath the blindfold, Raith raised an eyebrow at the man's initial response, snorting as he shifted his head back and forth on his neck slightly, loosening the muscles. "I can smell the steel, and the blood of those we have fought this day, and given you gathered with them it seemed a natural assumption that you were one of them. Though it is of little consequence to me if that is not in fact the case," he replied. "Ah, I take it that their distance from you was the association with the Void then; given our present situation it does not surprise me." 

As he was asked his own name, Raith smirked, turning his head towards the man. "My name is Raith, newly risen God of Wrath and the Heavens. I would say address me as 'My Lord', but I will forego titles for my given name, considering the predicament this world is in currently," he kept his voice low, though the arrogance and amusement at stating his newly acquired status in this world, was more than a little apparent. He lowered his body, as Icarus called out three targets ahead of them. Blind though may be, he still understood rough measurements of distance and clock faces - his mother had schooled him in recognising such things as a young boy, one of the few things that he did have to thank his loathsome mother for. 

The stench of freshly ground dirt caused him to cock his head to one side, intrigued as to what his current war companion was up to. "How would you prefer to proceed?" He asked, the man now had him genuinely curious as to what abilities Icarus had. 

Ah yes, that was it; this person was one of the Tree’s chosen. Well, at least he wasn’t too haughty, though the preference toward “my Lord” was once that Icarus wasn’t quite the fan of. To refer to one as such was akin to bending one’s knee to them verbally and he did so only out of mutual respect, not by one’s position. It was why he generally did what he could to avoid entangling his own fate with the gods of this world. Alas, the events of the world sometimes forced their paths together as fate twisted threads to form powerful knots.

For what it was worth, Icarus was grateful that his assessment, though far short of proper appraisal, was correct that he could take care of himself. He couldn’t help a small chuckle at the sudden revelation. ”Well, single syllable calls are faster in a pinch, anyway. I’ll bear it in mind if we cross paths again,” he stated, indicating his intent to use his name at this time but utilize his preference at some unknown future date. 

Icarus next drew his longsword from the scabbard on his back, repeating the process he had used for the katana. ”These creatures dwell in darkness, making their vision sensitive to light, from what I’ve seen. Amidst the chaos of the battlefield, they shouldn’t detect us readily once we move into the taller grass ahead. We stay low, stay quiet, dull the shine of our gear, and kill them as we proceed toward the gate. Rinse, repeat, and if you’ve a trick up your sleeve for closing the tear they keep coming from, I’ll defer to your ability,” Icarus explained, beginning to sneak forward in a crouch to maintain a low profile. 

The grass ahead rose to roughly waist-height of a full-grown man, making his intent to blend more into the surroundings more realistic. As he closed the gap, the creatures had changed direction slightly, enabling him to get behind one that had trailed behind a few meters. With the element of surprise, Icarus brought down his katana at an angle to aim between the neck and shoulder, cutting cleanly with only the slightest resistance as it cleaves through the spine. That’s one, doesn’t seem the others have noticed yet, he thought, regaining his bearing and preparing to target the next two.

Raith nodded; at least the man had the wits about him to understand the proper place he held, in terms of hierarchy at least, where Raith was concerned - that earned him a smidgen of respect at the very least… or at least acknowledgement. 
Again he heard steel leave the safety of it's scabbard, and the acrid stench of freshly turned earth, whatever Icarus had done the first time he had done again - but he doubted it was of little consequence to himself or his own methods. 

The God nodded. "Agreed, I can call upon my divinity to close the tear, so long as it's not too large I should have sufficient power to seal it without the aid of any of the others," he replied, recalling earlier in the day when he and Angela had sealed a large tear, after forcing one of the larger beasts back into the realms where it truly belonged. Keeping low, Raith followed Icarus' footsteps, using the man's scent and that of the fresh earth he had dug, to keep close by.

He could smell the blood when Icarus cut through the first, and he smiled, recalling his rage at having rescued his mother from her death bed, calling upon the strength the Voice had gifted him as he shot forward, arms wrapping around one of the remaining beasts, hands clasped around its chest as he squeezed, relishing in the sound of it's breaking bones and tearing flesh - the thing unable to scream since he held it so tightly. With one final squeeze he released the broken, dead thing, smiling to himself as he fell into his old habits, enjoying the bloodlust that gripped his heart as tightly as he had gripped the beast. 

Icarus watched as his companion dispatched another of the targets with his physical might, whether it was a portion of his divinity or otherwise; he didn’t know. With the last of the creatures still unaware, Icarus continued his low approach and drove his longsword through its neck, immediately incapacitating it quietly as it bled out, paralyzed. Turning his eyes to Raith once more after scanning the area, he reconvened with him. ”Twenty meters ahead or so, there’s an incline and it appears to taper off. Seems to be a natural ridge.”

Cautiously observing the surroundings, Icarus came to the edge of the embankment and peered over. Below, he could see a large staging area where it seemed forces were amassing. He witnessed all manner of the creatures from portions of the Void he was unfamiliar with. There were even two of the behemoth-sized monsters among the number of adversaries below. They had somehow come across a prepared counter-attack from the flank of their own flanking force.

This amounted to nothing short of an emergency. If the forces arrayed here began to march, they would flank the Adelunan army and the eastern alliance would be in disarray. The casualties would be catastrophic and there would be nothing preventing these creatures from marching onward. Icarus began devising a strategy. It only took a moment after he saw the ultimate goal of the two-man force ahead of them. 

Behind this large force of perhaps five hundred enemies was a large tear linking them to their main force. It seemed they had been placed here exactly for the intent of following the ridge-line to flank the allied army. Given that they would come into contact with too many enemies to readily deal with and Raith was needed for the tear itself, Icarus needed to draw the enemy away. 

”There’s far too many to deal with and they could mobilize at any moment. We only ran into those three because they were scouts or sentries. Make for the tear and I’ll draw them off,” he trailed off, pulling mana to himself and letting out a light chuckle. ”Have you ever pondered the versatility of gate travel?” he asked as he teleported into the skies above the enemy force.

Beginning an immediate descent, Icarus used a large pool of mana he had collected in the previous minutes to link two points of reality, opening a five foot maw into the belly of a volcano. The highly-pressurized and superheated magma sprayed out as a veritable rain of death from the skies above. He didn’t have access to the highest levels of arcane magic, but he knew his way around transitional magic better than most. Connecting a gate to any point was easy for him under duress. In this instance, he was glad he had the opportunity to utilize the world’s own wrath to defend it.

As the fiery death rained down on the enemy, the heat scoured the earth below and hardened within seconds on initial contact. The sheer volume pouring forth from the gate and his rapid descent to the ground were causing it to puddle and spread in a fashion that turned the battlefield into a lava floe. Dozens of the creatures screamed their shrill cries of distorted pain and even one of the behemoths had slipped in its panic and fallen into the molten earth, melting slowly as it covered itself. 

When he nearly reached the ground, Icarus teleported once more, taking a deep breath and setting himself ahead of the now-panicking enemy outside of the lava. He was holding both weapons in hand again, standing between two high walls of the ridge on either side of him. This would be where he made his stand while Raith finished the fight by taking the objective. He didn’t like his odds now that he had exhausted a sizable portion of his mana, but it was his only course of action. And now, he steeled himself as the horde began their march toward him, their numbers cut considerably, but their fervor undeterred.