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The first to arrive was known by the name of Note, and he was indeed an oddity. The Earth God watched curiously as the mortal grew near, desire in his heart - but not for anything the god could give him. Note was silent, awestruck - as most were, at first - but eventually, he managed to voice his thoughts. The God of the Earth shook his great head slowly, forelock tumbling over a gentle eye as he did so. "I can tell you only that she remains in this land, Note. I cannot track every mortal in this realm." His voice was almost apologetic, a deep, rolling thunder over the plains. He smiled. "But I am sure that you will be reunited, one day. Do not give up hope."
The next newcomer, a young mare, approached with a bit more spunk. She seemed afraid, or nervous, but she spoke anyway, offering him a solemn bow. "You may repay your debt by living your life to the fullest, my daughter. You need not thank me." But she was not finished. She asked for a feather, of all things! He chuckled, surprised and a bit impressed by her courage (for he was too kind to think it stupidity - like as not, his brother, the Sun, would have fried her where she stood). "My dear, your bravery is a treasure." He lifted a wing, extending it into the sky. From it, he pulled a long, brown primary that shimmered with the colors of the earth. As he blew softly, allowing it to coast from his lips and settle in her mane, it flashed green. "Guard it well."
There was a comfortable silence for a moment, but it was soon broken by the arrival of another mare. She, too, offered worshipful praises. "I know who you are, Cashmere," he told her with a smile. But she had known that - what he meant to say was that he knew who she was. He knew of her troubles, of her pain. But he also knew of her courage. His intentions showed in his eyes. "Thank you for your kind words. The thistles and grass in this meadow are drawn to me," he added, "as are the three of you, it would seem."
Their peace was interrupted by the newest arrival, an equine stallion with a look of distaste on his maw. The Earth God frowned, but only just; he might have looked as though he chased an errant thought, not as though he disapproved. After all, despite the steed's racism, there was naught the god could do. They were not meant to meddle in the lives of the mortals - at least, not in the sense of supporting or demolishing budding empires. Calling the name of another god, inconsequential in the Earth God's land, was another matter, however. "I might hold my tongue, if I were you, Tyradon," he warned, his voice mild despite the threat that boiled under its surface. "There are those gods less patient than I in this land who might have it out of your head." The God of the Earth was not a violent deity, this was true - but his siblings had no qualms about squashing a mortal who got too big for his breeches.
Kahlua's arrival, at last, was a blessing; the god rather liked the kind-hearted mortal, simple though she may be. He was surprised at her presence, but only for a moment - she served his sister now, and the Goddess of the Moon was not known for her ability to share. "Well met, Kahlua. I see you have done well since our last meeting." With one last glance at Tyradon, the deity stretched his wings upward, then tucked them to his sides. If he wished to tweak the racist stallion's nose a bit, his intentions did not show.
"I would ask you all, in the wake of the dark plague: what is the greatest weakness of character we might find in Helovia? And how do we overcome this weakness to build a greater tomorrow?"
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