Neil
So much time had been spent within Lithos. Time watching, time observing, time leading, time *Sleeping.* Pyralith had slept for years, and so shortly after her birth. Perhaps the creation of her favored subjects had taken something out of her that she had only regained recently. Maybe she wasn't quite as certain in the path Gaia had set her on as she thought she was. Magma eyes travelled up the old and powerful bark of the world tree, snapping past vegetation and shrubbery as booted feet carried her through the many twists and turns of one of the many 'gardens' attached to the tree. An oasis of life and greenery, of beautiful produce and divinity, purified. Pyralith did not know her mother, no more than anyone else did, no more than a primordial pull and instruction, and in some way that lent her a distance.

How could she look upon this divine thing and see a maternal shape? How could she look at it and see anything more than a god above even herself? Above all of her siblings? Ignorance could have been at fault for the idolatry at play- but Pyralith, in some manner, suspected it was something deeper. Fear. What a curious thing. Thick fingers wrapped about a fruit, pulling it carefully off the stem with an inquisitive look. She'd spent so much time in Lithos that she wasn't sure how clearly she saw the wider world. Even now, with a fruit so divine it could drive a mortal mad in one hand, her other hand grasped a dagger. A steel dagger- mortal made. She was admiring the craft. Lithos would not leave her mind.
_ _

And how could she want it to? Her beautiful creations, as divine to her as she was sure she and her siblings were to Gaia. A stubby hand lifted the blade up to the light, letting the ambient lighting glint off the edges, catch in the intricate dwarven runes carved into the handles. Pyralith's other hand took the fruit to her mouth, letting her teeth tear into the soft flesh of the thing, chewing on it as she contemplated the work before her. In a way, both the fruit and the dagger were the same. Ultimately the craftsmanship of a divine being. Gaia had made the fruit, and Gaia had made Pyralith, who made the dwarves, who made the dagger. 

**"Are you proud of this one?"** The dwarf god murmured to the open air. **"Do you see their beauty, as I do?"** Gaia would not respond. Gaia never would. Pyralith would talk regardless.
||
Allen
How long had it been since Wyrd last ascended the boughs of their great mother? How long since he had climbed the world tree to gaze upon creation? Time seemed to slip him by in his long slumbers, the world changing in the blink of an eye as he dreamed new beasts into being. Perhaps he should stir more often, to attend his mortals and gaze upon their works, or lack thereof. But, he didn't. The Great Deer had little need to coddle the primeval monsters that stalked the mists. Not only would their struggle make them strong, but distance from their god kept the mystery alive, and there was little that pleased him more than maintaining the unknown.

Rising to the elegant gardens that grew upon Gaia, Wyrd took a moment to slowly pace through the rows of plant-life, regarding the strange and novel creations of their mother with quiet reverence. If there was one inadequacy he felt in his existence, it was that his creativity could never match hers in it's wild variance, and it nver would. It would be true hubris to even reach for such heights. 

After a moment, though, the god of monsters realised that he was not alone. A goddess stood in the garden, raising a dagger in her hands. The stranger was slightly on the smaller end of the gods, though she was far from the shortest. This made little difference to the towering beast of a deity, of course, but was something he noted nonetheless. The Great Deer approached silently, peering curiously at the younger goddess. He was not intending to sneak up on her, it was simply innate to him to move quietly in spite of his stature.

"Hello, sister." Wyrd said, breaking the silence. The bestial god radiated a primal presence, an almost alien aura that seemed to reject time's inexorable march from the ancient world he was born into. The dagger would have undoubtedly began to rust in his shadow had it not been shielded by Pyralith's divinity, her nuturing, creative presence protecting the masterwork. "I have not seen you here before."
Neil
Though Pyralith doesn't physically startle when Wyrd shows up, his arrival does seem to take her off guard, her head shifting to get a glance at him only a moment after he spoke. It was a surprise to her that she hadn't felt his presence before he even got close, with how strong it radiated. She herself could summon that level of intensity with ease, but it did not follow her everywhere. Indeed, this moment of hers felt.. Quieter. More somber. And yet, she enjoyed the company- and was grateful for his presence. She needed to know her siblings, to experience the vast breadth of them and to know their uniqueness, to become familiar with individual strokes of Gaia's large brush. Every breath a new experience, something alien and exciting, a horrific monster of madness and cruelty, a seraph of kindness and mercy- and things so much stranger. 

The forge goddess could almost summon an envy towards her mother. Why could she, the *God* Of *Forges* Not craft something so unique? Why did her world feel so small in comparison to others? Why did Gaia give Pyralith the freedom of creation and the limitations of ignorance? It felt so unlike herself to be *Curious* About her siblings, to be so deeply inquisitive of the nature of her brother that she saw now, as her head craned up look up at him, magma-red hair sliding down her shoulders and dangling down her back as ambient light glittered off of glowing stubble. Her words came softly, quietly despite all the distance between her mouth and his ears. It would do. **"Hello, brother."**
_ _

Her vision tracked back to the ground beneath her, before snapping back towards her dagger, letting it linger in the light so that she could further admire it. **"I have not come here before. Indeed, the last time I was at the tree at all was the day I was born."** Pyralith hummed, an almost regretful tone poisoning her words, which dipped low and quiet in some semblance of shame that even she did not seem to understand. Should she have visited more? **"I came to see, but all I can do is think. Do you ever have that problem? So many things to do, so many things to think about. Think, do, sleep. Think, sleep. Wake, do, think, do, sleep, sleep, sleep."** She rambled, the hand that held the fruit waving through the air in a dismissal of her own words, as inane and pointless as they were. 

Finally, she turned back towards her brother, holding the dagger up to his massive form, a display. **"I think of this. Look at its beauty. Of all the metalworkers in my realm, none have produced something so.."** A sigh, breath shaky as if from admiration. **"And she threw it out. It wasn't to her own standards. Imagine that! That heart."** Pyralith's voice raised with excitement, fist clenching around the dagger as her eyes scanned the horizon for the familiar, distant sight of her realm. All she could do was think about it. How miraculous.
Allen
Wyrd regarded his sister silently for a while, contemplating her words. As he realised that the dagger she clutched was mortal-made, his hide visibly writhed and undulated, as if something was stirring beneath a rug, but it quickly stilled again as he restrained himself. The Great Deer still bemoaned the progress of mortals, but had come to accept it as an inevitability. Bones, his favourite brother, was the industrious type and it would be unfair to judge another for such habits, as much as he wished to. 

"I understand well what you mean. I spend much of my time sleeping these days. Dreaming, creating, dreaming, creating. Ever trying to make something truly... Inspired." The god of monsters let out a forlorn sigh. "Perhaps, someday, I will create something near-perfect. Until that day, though..."

The god of monsters then turned to the blade clutched in his sister's hands, glancing at it with not admiration but disdain. Though his expression was hard to discern beneath his stone mask, Pyralith could surely divine his intentions if she so desired. He didn't *Want* To disregard her amazement so blatantly, but it was hard to feel anything but contempt when confronted with such a perversion of nature, the unraveling of the world's secrets.

"Such sentiments, I have come to learn are... Not uncommon among mortals. They are discontent with their existence, so they create. They are discontent with their creations, so they cast them away and create more, again and again. They will not rest, not until they have created all they can, regardless of what it costs." Wyrd said, gazing bitterly off into the distance. Then, abruptly, he remembered himself and turned back to his sister, a slight sense of guilt falling over him for disregarding her enthusiasm. "But yes, it is quite a well-made dagger... Forgive me, I have not yet introduced myself. I am Wyrd, god of monsters, mysteries, and untouched wilderness. I am honoured to meet you."
Neil
A small bow of respect was offered, one arm sweeping across her chest with the motion before she straightened up fully, once more turning fully away so she could lift the dagger to the light. **"Pyralith, goddess of the Forge and Stone."** It was in her nature to be industrious then, wasn't it? To carve through stone to find metal to turn into miraculous things. She was enraptured by the very enthusiasm he had so easily dismissed for a moment- and perhaps that was why she took no offense, so lost in her own world as she was. The weapon spun over her fingers as she directed it onto her belt, another large bite taken out of the fruit in her other hand.

Seconds passed in silence before her low voice spoke again. **"To create is their purpose. What is one without creation? We were forged in a different manner."** A gesture to the tree itself then, as the dwarf goddess began to pace absent mindedly. **"As we speak, my mortals prepare for the worst. Armored sentries wear beautifully crafted plate armor and hoist up heavy, intricate shields. Coal burns away in a hundred furnaces and a hundred more miners load their carts with ore."** A grin, almost manic, as she turned to look upon Wyrd once more, her free hand coming to run through her hair, which perpetually held the texture of flowing lava. **"Isn't that amazing? How could one not be mesmerized at their chosen people excelling. Armor and shields and weapons and explosives and** ***Ships*** **All come together to make a plan. Because once they are ready, and that is soon, they will set sail across the abyss and land upon the other realms where they will continue to create."**

Pyralith's arms pulled close to her body in a moment of fervor and excitement. **"They engage in the divine beauty of creation. For the same reason, I give them wheat but not bread, I give them iron but not steel. Copper but not bronze. It is close to godliness that they achieve with this dagger here."** She insisted, smiling up at him.
Allen
Wyrd almost visibly recoiled at her last comment. Close to godliness?! Hardly, and it was almost unthinkable to even suggest such a thing. Choosing his words carefully, the god of monsters attempted to elaborate on the error of her ways.

"Come now, sister. To claim it is close to divinity, don't you think that is approaching sacrilege?" The god of monsters murmured, giving the dagger one more look. He had seen divine weapons before, and this, frankly, pales in comparison to those even before one got into the minutia of mortal creativity. "I... Will not mince my words. I do not care for mortal inventions." 

Wyrd paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts as he took in Gaia and all her glory. *This* Is what the world should look like, pure and natural, not a realms scarred and branded by industry. 

"I am sure you can understand why. My domain is the wild, nature, and mortal creations are at odds with that. Even conscientious mortals- which are rare- cannot make without disemboweling mountains and massacring forests."

The Great Deer gave a grim look to his realm, close to Gaia. He could imagine it's lands invaded, the Mists torn asunder not for survival. He could understand if it was done for survival, for the thrill of the hunt, to lay low a threat before it became an issue. These were things he understood. But to see nature laid waste for mortal advancements, to further the hubris and heresy of the wayward creations... It made him sick.

"While I can... Appreciate that you enjoy the works of your mortals... Their novelty and curiosity..." Wyrd mumbled, attempting to relate in the best way he could. The only way he could find himself able to appreciate mortal works is by forcing them into the lens of something new, but even then they often fell into mass production not long after the first draft. "I just... Cannot abide by the cost, by all the sacrifices made to make something... Something that may end up being thrown away."
Neil
There came a flare of anger within the small woman, as a bark of laughter escaped her. An angered bite was ripped out of the flesh of the fruit, leaving it little more than the typically deemed 'undesirable' portions. Still, another bite or two, and that was gone as well. Sloppy and messy, she wiped across her mouth with the back of her hand, the sticky sweet residue of her little snack burning away from the heat of her flesh. A few seconds of silence passed before she threw her hands up. **"Perhaps the reason we sleep and think and think and sleep and sleep and sleep is because we lack the creative spark mortals have!"**

Once more, the dagger was pulled out. **"Look upon it! We could not replicate the craftsmanship."** A baffled laugh tore through her throat, booming down the length of the mother tree. **"The bread we manifest does not taste as delicious as theirs, our clothes not as comfortable! They have a spark somewhere within them."** Fingers pinched at the base of her torso, as if pointing out where this metaphorical divine spark of creation must lie within her mortals. Closer she stepped, peering up at him, neck craned impossible far above due to the considerable height difference. **"Why would we** ***Not*** **Cultivate that!? We are the ones paying the price so they may create the future! Our coal, our trees, you think I do not understand?"** The anger in her voice seemed not directed at him, but at the argument as a whole, as she stepped back away turned the edge of the garden, gazing down at the base of the tree. 

***"Imagine it.."*** Her voice had grown soft suddenly, wistful, thinking of the future. The dagger was held to the light, but in its reflection was not her or the God behind her, not even of the future- but the *Present.* Forests cut down, turned into the hull of a ship being prepared to invade another world so that they could repeat the process, armor-clad soldiers marching past endless rows of furnaces. Horrific. **"Beautiful."**
Allen
Wyrd was, briefly, taken aback. He had tried his best to be understanding, to offer his points calmly to the younger goddess, and she he returned his politeness with spite and fury. The god of monsters had never seen such *Contempt* For the natural world, such drive to see it burned away and replaced with the cold steel of industry. 

The Great Deer contemplated the goddess of the forge, wondering how their minds were so different. From his perspective, Pyralith's mindset seemed almost borne of an inferiority complex. Wyrd couldn't even imagine himself envying the creativity of mortals. 

"They all do the same things, though." He sniffed, looking down dismissively at the dagger. To assert that the thing was superior to a blade created by a god, insanity. "They bend stone into weapons, as their claws are dull. They bend it into armour, as their hides are fragile... And they forget what it is to have a wild heart. Is it really so worth picking creation clean for this?"

The Hoofed Lord glanced out across the realms, looking at the countless, varied worlds that his siblings had wrought. To compare such limitless, beautiful creation. Endless new biomes, endless new creatures, and to compare them to the predictability of mortal craftsmanship. How... *Boring*. 

"I suppose this is our nature. We were born with minds so alien to one another. I can only wonder what mother's plan is, and take it in stride." Wyrd sighed. It was truly tragic how few of his siblings followed his ideals, how many were willing to create mortals that were left wanting and unleash them into the world. How many were content to see their weak children solve the problems they thrust upon them and label it as progress. How tragic indeed.
Neil
A scoff sounded from her, the noise carrying a film of *Distaste* With it, something more personal than her words before. It seemed this young God had a streak of arrogance and ego to her, not quite a fondness for being challenged by someone she *Clearly* Knew better than. **"You wouldn't get it. And of course you wouldn't. We are opposites, are we not?"** The woman paced, thick limbs waddling her about as her hands rested tensely on her hips. **"You fail to see the broader picture of things you would never dream of, you couldn't possibly. The wilds are a thing to be conquered! Not something that must sit stagnant without challenge forever!"**

Short-fingered hands gestured at him. **"And we work to oppose each other, as order opposes chaos, as justice opposes injustice and vengeance, as purity opposes corruption. I am the forge, skilled craftsmanship and burning skill and labor- and you are the wild and the beasts within it. We co-exist! Order exists to keep chaos in line, as the wilds exist for my dwarves to turn to rails and wheels and beautiful things."** Despite her words, it seemed Pyralith *Knew* Better, knew that what she was saying was not a simple supposed dichotomy, but a transgression against his very domain. In a way, it was almost a threat. She was proud of stepping against wild nature and its monsters. She saw it her purpose. And yet what a perversion of it that she was! The god of the Forge and *Stone!* She too held a domain of nature, even if it were not green and full of life. Yet it seemed forgotten in her primary domain- in the awe-inspiring capabilities of her dwarves.

Silence lingered as she let her words settle in the air, like burning coals against flesh. They tasted sour now that she'd said them, but it was in tasting them that she was driven to speak further, if only to fill the silence and let *Something* Be said. **"If the wilds were worth anything, they would not yield to mortal creativity and industry."**
Allen
"Hm. Hmhmhm. Ahahahahaha." Wyrd rumbled with laughter, a deep, bassy sound that resounded from the eerie core of his being. The young goddess was naive and spirited, with a fire in her heart that the Great Deer could not dismiss. "There is some sense to what you say. We are opposites, in open defiance to one another."

Wyrd began to circle around the smaller god, taking her in from every angle. His long neck lowered to bring him eye to eye with his younger sister. She was not without sense, though she was possessed by the arrogance of youth. 

"And you are correct, the wilds are not to sit stagnant, though that does not require the presence of invention. That you see the ever-changing chaos that is nature as unmoving speaks to your naivety. You lack the wisdom that comes with age." 

The seam that divided Wyrd down the middle stirred slightly, countless teeth revealing themselves in a whole-body grin. 

"And it is true that worthwhile wilderness would not give in to civilisation. Your mistake is in thinking that it would. Your mortals may find success conquering the lands you provide them, but how will they fare in realms not made to support them? Realms where the teeth are sharp and the souls burn with wild fury."
Julie
The gardens. Mr Bones had only been here a couple times in his long existence. Not for any dislike of the place or anything, it was just a bit out of the way and not really somewhere he was naturally drawn to. The hall was more formal, the branches were open and the garden was ultimately just a garden. There tended to be interesting characters here though and after such a stressful *Time* Mr Bones could use a break somewhere enclosed and calm. Also he sensed Wyrd there and was hellbent on finding his ally. The war that was coming had already deposited itself right on the skeleton's doorstep- he needed to be sure that any other attacks on his mortals would be met with by a united army of deer and skeletons, some of which had deer parts.

He entered the garden, immediately spotting Wyrd and another god. Mr Bones recognised them from Nach's ritual but couldn't quite remember their name. No one had even mentioned them by name, at least during the time that the skeleton had been there. Not that it would matter too much, no one could reasonably get mad at the god for not knowing something they had no way of ever knowing. But the shorter goddess did seem easily angered. Oh well- his chances were good.

Mr Bones walked towards the pair, politely waving at the two of them.

"Hello there Wyrd. I've been looking everywhere for you, I'm afraid it's rather urgent. And hello to you my friend. I must confess that I haven't caught your name yet, I'm terribly sorry about that."
Neil
The bone-man stumbled upon the two in quite the discussion, it seemed. Pyralith's temperament had only just settled when he arrived, her gaze levelled and steadied at the much taller deer, ready to retort with all manner of youthful, arrogant bluster- but nothing was quite so disarming as the appearance of another. It quite visibly startled her, the dwarf woman taking a few moments to collect herself as one hand stroked down her clothes, worker's apron smoothing out, while her other hand deposited the dagger away. Honestly, it quite looked like she'd been mugging the massive deer, though she knew better than to assume anyone would take that verdict away from such a scene. Such things were beneath Gods. 

As Pyralith turned to Mr Skeletore, she performed a bow of her head in respect. **"Pyralith, Goddess of the Forge and Stone."** She intoned, looking up at him with an inquisitive stare. She certainly had met him before, but neither could his name come to her. **"And you are? We haven't met properly, it's a shame. I was just discussing with our brother here about our.. Differences, as it were."** The admittance came a bit sheepishly, as if even Pyralith could notice she'd been a bit too aggressive with a sibling while caught up in her own ego. She was in two parts, soft and decidedly not, and the methodology of who got exposed to what was a slight unpredictable for the time being. 

**"Is there something wrong? Do you need privacy?"** The woman offered, hands coming up to pull her magma hair away from her freckled face, which was twisted into a genuine, friendly concern. **"I do not mind leaving if it is that which you seek."** Pyralith continued, gesturing to the side idly, even if she struggled to hide the curiosity on her face. What could be urgent between Gods?
Allen
Wyrd turned to his favourite brother, surprised to see him here. He bowed respectfully to the skeletal god before riding to his full height. 

"What is the matter, brother?" He asked, concerned before a solemn silence fell over him. "Actually, I feel that I may know the answer to that. Have our worries finally come to light?"

The god of monsters had long expected that, sooner or later, war would come to their lands. That was the reason he had approached his brother with an alliance in the first place. The fact that it had proved sooner rather than later though was disappointing. 

Remember their onlooker, Wyrd briefly glanced at Pyralith, wondering what she would say. He felt no reason to send her away, and with any luck, she might even be willing to lend assistance.

"If my suspicions are correct... Who is it? How may I help?"
Julie
"Good to meet you Pyralith. I am Mr Bones, god of the dead, undead and dying. I promise that I'm not quite as macabre as my domains may make me out to be." Mr Bones nodded, bowing ever so slightly to the dwarf. Another name to remember, not that it was hard for a god.

"I can imagine the differences a god may have with Wyrd. In my opinion it's best to just accept that some ideals are so hard coded into our spirits that they may never be changed." 

In terms of modernisation and technological sophistication, Wyrd was dead set against it. But, from what Mr Bones could tell at least, he didn't outright try to force that world view onto other gods which was respectable. The skeleton waved his hand a little at Pyralith.

"No, no it's fine. Just a mortal matter, nothing that needs to be kept secret between us."

Even so, Mr Bones spun around so he was solely facing Wyrd. Pryalith could watch all she wanted, but the skeleton wasn't here to talk to her.

"Yes I'm afraid your suspicions are true. My skeletons have come under attack. Twice. Melancholia's mortals have enslaved a few hundred of them. Diova's demigod has led an attack directly on my land. I do not yet know if these attacks are divinely influenced but I imagine that they are not. As such I do not want to be directly influencing such things. And I don't want you to either. But if you could get word out to your mortals that war has broken out I would appreciate it greatly. It is too late for them to affect the war in my land, but with your help I believe we will be able to rescue my mortals before too long. I know this is a lot and I know this is sudden, but can I count on you for help?"

Mr Bones already knew what the answer would be. He didn't *Explicitly* Know Wyrd's thoughts on slavery but the skeleton had reason to believe such a wild god wouldn't appreciate mortals being forced into servitude. Especially the mortals of an ally and a friend.
Neil
A small nod from the dwarf goddess and a polite smiled signaled her friendliness as she replied, tone contemplative. **"Yes, and I suppose that is our design."** Pyralith agreed, hand coming to rest against the bark of the world tree, letting her fingers run over the textured surface before she finally committed to leaning against it as her eyes drifted over the two. Some part of her felt rude for sitting in on the conversation, but it *Was her* Conversation in the first place, and surely if either had an issue, they would've said as much.

Still. Felt a bit strange to simply sit and observe, and even stranger to provide commentary to their quite serious discussion. Her muscled arms crossed about her bosom, brow furrowing in contemplation as she took in every word of the God of Death. It was interesting that, indeed, he held such 'sinister' domains without making it everyone else's problem. She could still feel the rising anger in her stomach at the insinuation from the God of Discord that her nature was to *Cause* Discord wherever possible, even with her own siblings. Pyralith could not help but wonder how much of that was her domain, and how much of that was just an *Awful* Personality.

Maybe each of them really were just wired differently, with certain innate traits that not everyone would always agree with. What compelled Pyralith to see Sinrael as a person simply compelled to act on her domain, and Nach as someone who *Was* Her domains? Maybe her own experiences with the individuals had shaped her view. Only one had directly attacked her, after all, though the Forge Goddess could barely assume what her goals were in that fight aside from the fight itself.

Red-hot eyes suddenly snapped to attention. **"Slavery? By the stars.."** She groaned. That was nasty business. She couldn't relate, but her heart did stir in sympathy. She couldn't imagine her rage and horror if her own chosen people were treated in such a way.
Allen
Wyrd listened to his brother intently, visibly seething at what he was hearing. A demigod attacking unprovoked was bad enough, but that was not his main concern. That rat, that traitor Melancholia, was causing more trouble. Was it not enough for her to turn against her siblings, but now she was enslaving their mortals as well? 

The Great Deer might not have been the most moral or kind of deities, but at the very least his mortals had the decency to kill their prey and be done with it. It was hardly uncharacteristic of their miserable sister to encourage such depraved behaviour though.

"Melancholia." Wyrd spat, as if the words were poison in his mouth. "Of course. You shall have my the full force of my mortals, brother. Just tell me where to send them and they shall wreak havoc." 

Wyrd's long tail cracked like a whip as his tossed it furiously, pawing at the ground a moment. The god of monsters would respect Bones' wish not to intervene directly, but he would have relished the opportunity to tear apart the goddess of sadness. Another time, perhaps.

Then, he turned to Pyralith, looking at curiously. It seemed that her heart had been moved by the imprisonment of Mr Bones' mortals, implying at least a modicum of agreement between them. Another ally would certainly not go amiss in these dire times, if she were so inclined to assist. Still though, Wyrd did not speak up to invite her to their war. If she was to join, it should be of her own volition.
Julie
Mr Bones contemplatively held his head. Wyrd was certainly ready to assist in the war but he seemed maybe a little *Too* Enthusiastic. As much as the skeleton wanted to ensure Melancholia's people understood that they should have never touched the skeletons he didn't want to be responsible for the murder of an entire civilisation. Just the leaders and upper class, keep a small skeleton presence to ensure that they didn't try anything like it again. 

"Mm. Just ensure that they don't wreck *Too* Much havoc. We don't want to wipe out an entire race as a punitive measure. We must remain above such things. Extermination is the tactic of lesser strategists, ones who can not see beyond the next battle. I am greatly thankful for your help though. If you begin sending your mortals to my land I am sure they'll reach it well before the first ships start setting off. I'll make sure to tell my skeletons you're coming, Gaia knows they'll be on edge after this."

Mr Bones turned to Pyralith, who had a very specific reaction to the mere *Mention* Of slavery. It appeared that she too was against the institution. That could be useful. Mr Bones wasn't about to manipulate the dwarf into joining the battle merely due to some shared ideals. 

"What would you do in this situation Pyralith? Full eradication or just knocking some sense into them?"

No matter what she said, Mr Bones wasn't going to change how he handled the problem. But it would help him find out more about Pyralith. How she thought. How she engaged in conflict. All crucial information for any potential ally.
Neil
Pyralith watched the discussion with a barely veiled interest. Not *Necessarily* In joining, but when a young god was so inexperienced and fresh-faced, something such as this seemed so *Large* To her. Most things likely seemed large to her, really. Like a baby experiencing new sensations, she hard little scale for what things *Ought* To feel like. What was enslavement of some mortals in the span of divine history? Likely not that much, but Pyralith knew how it made her feel. Perhaps she trusted her heart too much, which burned too hot and sat too large in her chest. But this? This, she knew, her heart was not leading her astray. It took some few moments for the dwarf god to turn her attention to Mr Bones when he addressed her- as if she wasn't expecting to be addressed at all.

And a few seconds more as she contemplated an answer. What did her heart compel her to do? To enslave one's mortals was a heinous action, but.. Her stout frame leaned upon some dense vegetation, which compacted under her surprising weight, but managed to hold her up well enough. **"Well. I'm a Forge Goddess. You may not be surprised to know knowledge is a.. Neighboring domain of mine, so to speak. Not one of my own, of course, but I can relate to it, in a way, as a Goddess that handles craftmanship and-"** A stubby hand waved through the air, as if hurrying herself along to get to the point. **"Wiping out another God's mortals,** ***Completely?*** **It doesn't sit right with me. Teach them a lesson. That's deserved. Strike fear in their hearts if they dare touch what isn't theirs again, but to wipe them out, that is impossible to walk back. They can be recreated, but never the same. It's lost."**

The woman drew a deep breath in, features conflicted as she continued. It seemed she'd not considered this before. **"Maybe they deserve it, but with all the power we possess, all of our options, our best one can not be to erase what someone else may consider a masterpiece."**
Allen
"Mm. Alright. Your points are valid, as deserving as it may be. It is a better outcome for all involved to hold back somewhat. So not to extinction, then." Wyrd said, still a tad begrudging but overall accepting of the condition to not wipe out his sister's mortals. Particularly due to the fact that as long as Melancholia was still alive, any extermination would be temporary anyways, so it was better to leave some alive to learn their lesson. 

"I imagine that, in such a case, the waking of my Luddyk will be overkill... Though perhaps not out of the question." The god of monsters muttered, partially to Mr Bones and partially to himself. The sight of a small mountain laying waste to their armies would certainly brand itself into the mind of their adversaries, though the destruction would be excessive by their more gentle metrics. It would be difficult to get the Titan onto a boat too, and who knows how long it would take to travel across the roots. Still, Wyrd preferred to send his mortals with a singularly powerful individual to bolster their forces. 

"Hmm... Ahhh." The Great Deer mumbled to himself before letting out a dark chuckle, his mind already racing with monstrous new designs. If he wasn't going to send his colossus to reinforce his armies, then the logical conclusion was to send a demigod instead. True, he didn't possess one yet, but he doubted that there would be a better time to start than now. "Alright brother, if there is nothing more to discuss, then I will inform my mortals immediately. I will send a demigod to accompany and organise them and they will arrive at the Skeletal Sands as soon as possible."

Organise was, of course, a relative term in this case, simply meaning bringing them a little more into line that their normal rampaging horde, but that was about as good as it got with monsters such as Wyrd's mortals.
Julie
Mr Bones switched between nodding and shaking his head at Pyralith. Not quite agreeing not quite disagreeing. More on technicalities than actual arguments though, which was good.

"Knowledge as a domain, much less an adjacent one, does not inherently make you more knowledgeable than any other god. I'm hardly dying before you two and, were I in a more fleshy form, I wouldn't appear nearly as dead. Or undead for that matter. But yes, killing them all was never really an option. Not one that I was considering seriously at least."

Mr Bones tentatively went to clap Wyrd on the shoulder (back?). It was good to see that his old ally was reliable. Much more reliable than anyone else. 

"I'm not quite sure what a 'Luddyk' is, but any force is useful. The more forces there are the easier any battle will be and the more likely the enemy will be to surrender without a fight at all. I know that assembling an army and not fighting might seem like a big waste of time, but it's far faster to merely threaten the idea of a battle and wait for the enemy to give up. I don't *Suppose* That there's inherently anything else that I need to stick around for. But it's been a while since we've talked, I may as well stay and chat with the two of you. I will send a fragment to the sands though, just to make sure the skeletons aren't still too trigger happy. Be a shame if they attacked your deer. Which they won't, I assure you. But it would be a shame if they did."
Neil
It was amazing how quickly anger could seem to rise within the young god, her lips pulled back into a snarl as her meat fists clenched at her sides. **"That'd be a good point if that was what I said at all."** The dwarf growled out, her red eyes glaring at Mr Bones with *Perhaps* A little more aggression than could be warranted. **"I'm a God of a craft, and thus I am compelled to** ***Preserve*** **The craftsmanship of another. I wasn't claiming to be smarter than anyone."** Then, almost petulantly, her foot stomped. One could imagine if she were to do this within her own realm, mountains would shake and hundreds would die- but here, she just looked like a child. Maybe she realized that, or maybe her anger passed as quick as it came, for embarrassment flushed across her cheeks and her body reset into a neutral stance. A hand raised and rubbed at the back of her neck, free hand fidgeting with her tool belt. **"You asked for my opinion.."**

The stout woman cleared her throat, starting to pace as she looked between the two, eyes deep in contemplation. After a few moments, her lips parted, searching for words, which struggled to come out- as if she wasn't *Entirely* Sure of saying them. **"My chosen people. My dwarves. They'll be sending their first ship out soon, but they do not know where they will go. They could meet anyone, run into any thing."** A pause, as her hands settled on her hips and her pacing came to a stop, her back to the duo as she looked out past the garden. **"If you're going to war, then you should know war is good for dwarven business. They make the finest weapons and armors, even if they won't fight for you. But maybe they** ***Will*** **Fight for you- I don't control their actions. But I can guide them to the right place and let them choose themselves."**

_ _
A hand waved, dismissing herself quickly and once more hurrying herself along. **"I mean to say- my dwarves can provide your mortals with armor and weapons, and they will be happy to, if offered payment of some kind. I know them well enough to know that for certain. They won't fight- not a war they have no care for, for a God they don't worship, but they will always craft."** Pyralith glanced over her shoulder at the two. 

**"Though, if they know of the slavery, they might just give you a discount."** A mirthless chuckle escaped her as she turned her head forward again.
Allen
"Of course, brother. I'm always happy to talk." Wyrd replied to Bones offer to stay and chat. Tearing his own body down the middle, the Great Deer split into two fragments, one with a significantly higher portion of his power than the other. The stronger half's belly split open like a monstrous pair of jaws and snapped wide, practically turning itself inside out. Rather than a bloody mess being left behind, however, it simply vanished into thin air as it teleported to his realm.

At Pyralith's offer for assistance in the form of weapons and armour, Wyrd awkwardly swayed a little as he glanced at Bones. His mortals were hardly the type to wield anything of the sort, their own natural weapons and hides being more than enough protection. Plus, he wasn't even sure what armour and weaponry you would make for beasts like them... 

Bones, on the other hand, did have mortals that preferred the use of weapons. A shame, of course, but one that he found less upsetting than most, in part because their largely desolate realm didn't have much nature to destroy in the first place. That said, they were certainly well armed to begin with, so Wyrd was unsure how much they would want more armaments.

"Any assistance is greatly appreciated, sister, though I will have to politely decline." Wyrd said, doing his best to avoid offending the hot-blooded dwarf, though he suspected she might be regardless. The petulant stomp she performed before didn't just make her look like a child, in the grand scheme of creation she practically was one, at least by Wyrd's standards. A young deity, blessed with so much power and too little experience, tended to have a fiery temper towards anyone who defied them, even other gods. All that said, though, Pyralith's went beyond. 

Whether it was due to her domain or simply a personality quirk, Wyrd could tell that she had a white-hot heart in her chest. Maybe with time it would cool, and her temper with it, but until then, Wyrd would just be patient with her.
Julie
Raising his hands apologetically, Mr Bones took a couple steps back from Pyralith.

"I'm terribly sorry Pyralith. It's just that other gods may have seen their domain as an excuse to act or be a certain way. You're clearly not that kind of god and I apologise for insulting you."

The skeleton walked back towards the two gods, scratching at his chin. War being good for business was an interesting concept. War profiteers would never stay in business if they sold shoddy products. But war wasn't something that should be *Profited* From. It was unseemly. 

"I can't promise you that my skeleton will engage in trade with your dwarves. But if you send them over to my realm something may come of it. My mortals are certainly friendlier than those of other realms at the very least."

Mr Bones created a small map of the world tree. Close to its trunk, The Skeletal Sands marked with a large red X. Further away, Melancholia's realm was marked with a blue circle.

"Send you dwarves here, if they leave soon they may reach my skeletons. If not there, then send them here. This is where the skeletons will be going. If you come to my realm and no one is there, this is where they will likely be. That goes for you too Wyrd, but I'll be sure to tell the skeletons to wait for your mortals."
Neil
The more apologetics that Bones displayed, the *More* Pyralith seemed embarrassed by her own outburst, a flush of heat across her cheeks appearing the way metal slowly red hot. **"It's fine."** She mumbled, large fists clenching by her side as her molten eyes glanced away, into the distance. The stout woman looked back as the map was procured, gaze snapping onto the paper with a quiet curiosity. A hand extended, finger tapping against the map. **"My dwarves will send out a scout ship to find a realm and investigate it. I'll make sure that, at random, they choose yours."** She hummed, hand coming up to rub at some stubble on her sideburns. **"They talk with your mortals, make a deal, leave- and come back to.."** A tapped finger on the blue circle. **"What I assume is Melancholia's realm? They go there with a proper ship and supplies to arm your mortals."**

Red and orange eyes glanced at Mr Bones as if confirming that her plan sounded fine. **"I could just tell them to bring supplies to you, but I'd be removing their agency."** It wasn't much better *Subtly* Directing where they went, but it had to mean something. **"They will help as much as they can, but know my dwarves are facing some.. Difficulties at the moment."** The dwarf stepped back, letting her hands clasp behind her back in a manner almost militaristic. 

**"As we speak,** ***Dragons*** **Are invading my realm and have drawn blood. Beyond that, Sinrael has left a small city of mortals in my realm's depths- as well as a titan. And considering** ***Last*** **Time I spoke to her, I beat her into leaving my realm after she attacked me.."** A hand gestured vaguely, and no more words came for a few moments. **"What I mean to say is that between Nach's forces, the dragons, and Sinrael's forces- my dwarves have their hands full, and very few alliances aside from one with Kars."**

Pyralith glanced nervously between them. **"I am willing to stretch them a little thin if it means making allies."**