151 The God Of Freedom (2/2)
After spending a few moments of introspective musing, I refocused on the scene in front of me. One wherein I was surrounded by confused and awed beings.
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The dwarves in front of me were terrified. This was in part because I was radiating a front-facing aura of despair that almost paralyzed my foes. That said, some of this was a wholly natural and reasonable fear of a strange, eldritch being who they knew radiated a sort of quiet yet palpable aura of power.
I studied them for a moment, my eyes lazily examining them. Their eyes were wide, but a few of them were visibly exhausted and I knew that it was only because of the situation they were in that they were able to stand up. That made me chuckle.
The total number of dwarves in front of me who were still alive numbered in the tens of dozens. A few hundred of the brave humanoids were still here, attempting to defend their home from what felt, to them anyway, like a random and weirdly skillful invasion of their home by hundreds of brutal orcs. Many of the orcs had fallen, but their deaths wouldn't be permanent. At least not in the corporeal sense. I didn't feel like resurrecting the fallen warriors, but their bodies were still useful to me. They'd make good missionaries, under the power of a false resurrection.
I rose my hand and closed my fist, willing the flames behind me to intensify as I did so. ”Enough.” I proclaimed, speaking commandingly. Silently I called my staff to my other hand and pointed it at the dwarves in front of me.
”Cease your resistance.” I commanded, my voice softening as I did so. I was feigning sympathy, and I allowed my gaze to soften even as I made eye contact with the dozens of dwarves that stood right in front of me.
”You are victims as much as we are. And not just of us. Not just of overly... passionate Althonians, but of the real enemy.” I told the dwarves, causing their eyes to further fill with fear and now with legitimate confusion. Some of them began to push back against each other, attempting to increase the distance between themselves and myself. I stifled a small chuckle, so as to not appear to be mocking them. They met with resistance from their comrades, who pushed them back to where they were, or only grudgingly gave way.
One of them, a tough-looking male warrior with a braided beard didn't back away from me. He wasn't close to me though so he wasn't fully exposed to my auric powers which explained his ability to stand so defiantly. But he did boldly do more than the other warriors did. He pointed his battleax at me and this time I didn't bother to hide my chuckle. This didn't anger him but his eyes did narrow as he opened his mouth to speak.
”Hey! Who are you? Are you the commander of these orcs?” He shouted, his axe still pointed at me. His voice was a low, gravel-like one, but he spoke with an energy unbecoming of someone with which a voice. He also spoke quite speedily. Undeterred by him I began to speak again.
”The dwarven people have long been deceived by an ancient demon-lord. Morehammer tricked all of your ancestors into believing in him. And following his death he has remained as a phantasmal echo of the past. Now, something has stirred him into action against a new foe, Althos the god of freedom.” I told the dwarves in front of me. This caused them to stir in confusion, and they began to grumble both at me and in general. I didn't allow them to complain loudly though.
”Althos is currently resting and recovering from an encounter with Morehammer. He sent out a notification, since he is a true god, to the overwhelming majority of the world. He excluded dwarves. He urged his followers to defeat followers of Morehammer. Some Althonians are very zealous and fanatically love Torus' god. Some members of that particular camp are these orcs back here.” I told the dwarves. This provoked an outburst from the dwarves.
”We serve no one!”
”Morehammer can't be a demon lord?!”
”So many of our kin... Slain!”
”Is Althos taking the side of these monsters? What about justice?”
”I can't believe this... My son and my father, slain, by overzealous followers of a wounded god.”
I allowed them to speak their minds for a few moments, just long enough to get the worst outbursts out of them. And then I rose my hand again.
”The lives that were lost were not lost. Althos has bestowed me with some of his power. I am one of his angels. An angel of life. I possess the power to resurrect those who have fallen.” I explained. I was of course lying, but a good portion of my words were true. I would be resurrecting the fallen. Or at least their bodies.
”Althos is a god of many things. Allow him to show you a mere fraction of his powers. I will dismiss these followers, and you will be able to live in peace.” I proclaimed, speaking self-confidently. They looked at me uncertainly, which was a reasonable reaction all things considered. I chuckled and deactivated my auras. And then I targeted the living dwarves and began to remotely heal them.
I heard a number of sighs, but these ones were relieved and not the pained or sorrowful ones I heard in the aftermath of when I explained the origins of the orcs. I waited for a second to allow the dwarves to begin to focus on me and to actually adjust to their sudden lack of wounds and pain.
When they were done recuperating I rose my hand and began to casually project an illusion of the radiant golden energy that would be familiar to many life forms as holy energy. I did this so as to lend legitimacy to the idea that I was going to perform a mass, true resurrection.