for there are many ways to kill a man they say

Whatever negative thoughts Wessex originally had regarding the fact that the God promoted Rikyn of all people, she can no longer deny that his sense of humor is similar to hers, and she likes his blunt nature. Yes, they should get along swimmingly, whenever she has to summon him down from the sky, or whatever it is a Haruspex does, assuming she (and the herd in general) hasn’t fucked it all up.

A bold guffaw bursts from her lips as the God leans forward, offering a bit of off-colored advice. She simply can’t hold it in when she realizes the God has just told her to seduce the objects of her affection with his mirror. As in, ‘Hey, want to see something cool? I’m in charge of the mirror which contacts the God of Time. It’s in my cave, which just happens to be around the corner… [time lapse] Oh, you can’t see anything in it? Maybe you need me (right up against you) to help. Still nothing? Oh darn. Gosh, it’s cold up here in the North. Come cuddle with me under this finely woven blanket…’ Cue bow-chicka-bow-wow music.

I mean hey, maybe the God if Time is a bit of a perv and wants to look through his mirror to see two ladies getting it on. Maybe he just wants to help his poor, awkward, Haruspex finally get some action, and this is his very odd way of looking after the herd. Like a peculiar sort of step-dad who’s more friend than father, and can say the sorts of things a mother can’t.

Regardless of his intentions, Wessex nods to indicate that she understand and won’t fuck it all up, despite her lack of experience in anything even remotely religious. And then, just like that, she’s gone and words of Congratulations come her way, first by Erebos, and then Tiamat. Tia! The newly-minted Haruspex bounds forward to give the smaller Lady a quick embrace, mindful of the pointy bits around her head. “Thank you, Tiamat. You’ll let me know if I’m fucking it all up, right?” She jests, before turning her gaze to the General. She may never know his disappointment in seeing her leave his ranks, masking it all with a grin and vague look of pride. He, of all the residents of the Basin, should know the love she bears for fighting; her first love, her only love, at this point.

“Don’t think for a moment that I’m done patrolling or sparring.” She leans in conspiratorially, just like the God did a few moments ago, “Send me your soldiers to test, and I’ll kick their asses just like I did Rikyn’s.” And she’ll do it in the name of making them stronger, more prepared, ready for whenever their God may call upon them to fight Kaos. Pulling back, a bold smirk dances across her face. “Wisdom comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes, after all.”

I am Iron and I Forge Myself