Noronus

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Blood, screams, and weeps for mercy. Their like a fragrant poultice that tinges the air. With every withering body that falls lifelessly to the ground and with every roll of eyes as they become lifeless and dull. The soil ggreedilysoaks up the after-effects that rage orchestrated, greed composed, revenge sung, and sorrow titillated the strings of. And at the very center of it, he was the maestro. He wasn’t always so bloodthirsty, but now, even fellow Gods shudder at his name and shy from the presence of a monster whose very essence has soaked up the souls of all the lives he’s ended.

Noronus, that was the name given to him. Given by whom? The mortal he had fallen for after he had awakened in a blood-soaked field, unaware to who he truly was and the power he had. She had saved him, had loved him, had promised to bear his children and tie her soul to him. Little did he know, before any of that could happen, she broke his heart. Stomped on it with frail limbs, teared at it with vicious claws, and tore it up his throat to bury in the sand. How? She had known all along who he was, had known of the true power that lurked underneath his mortal appearing flesh, and hadn’t told him. But rather, took revenge. She let him believe that she loved him, got his love in return, and when she believed the time was right, executed her vicious plan. He had found them, both her and her husband, wrapped tight together. At that moment, his powers surged to life and bloodlust along with it. He knew who he was, what his duty was, and why the woman he so deeply loved betrayed him.

In the end, despite his aching heart, he had ended them both. He had killed the woman who had sealed, stolen, and broken his immortal heart. Because in the end he both understood and reviled the thought of them still living, knowing that despite his own actions having caused it, her heart would’ve never belonged to him. He had started the war that made them both, his previous love and her husband, traitors. He had been the one to rid them of their family that caused them to grieve so bad they decided to take action against a God themselves--and in the end, he was the one to end it all.

When returning to the realm, he found Anthek disappointed, Gozgriz had grunted and rolled his eyes, and Tantoa taunted and teased about his love-affair. His two closest friends and the brute he looked up too, considering their powers were so intertwined, all attempting to make him see that this mortal had meant nothing. But with his powers out of his command for the years that followed, he refused to believe that his heart-ache was just the “nothing” those around him told it was. It wasn’t until Tantoa had brought forward his sibling, his sister, that he felt his heart feel again.

In the trial of helping Entrite with her own powers, she in turn helped him get a handle on his own and those years were the ones that he cherished and helped him release the built up pain from his previous lover. But despite his developing emotions, he could feel the unease that still tugged at his immortal heart and the lingering distrust of wishing to tie his soul to another. What was the point of offering himself if he doubted the very trust they would need to tie themselves together?--And so he chose to distance himself, to remain polite and seem brutal while in her presence.

But for how long the act could be kept and for how long he would refuse to acknowledge his emotions, he wasn’t sure.

Noronus often takes on the form of a Clydesdale horse. With a large frame, stocky build, and muscular limbs, he is known to be the hammer that either starts or ends wars. Dark colored frame marked with other creamy darker colored markings and the added stark contrast of a white mane against such a dark form, he is said to be as admirable in looks as Lavosa with a sense of danger that still sends most mortals squealing in girlish delight when he visits the mortal realm. Golden orbs would gleam in a spark of bloodlust if you were ever to catch the one sight that could quite possibly be your last before both Anthek and him in perfect harmony were to rip it from you.

If you pray upon this god, you have a chance of being blessed or punished. Keep this in mind when bowing your head.

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Plot/Monthly Updates;

- Chapter One
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Noronus daunted on the events that clouded his sadistic mind; his deceased beloved and her husband, even though his kindred, Entrite, helped heal his broken heart for years. It was to be that he found another, seeking the comfort of another mortal soul, one whom would not betray and end up deceased at the hooves of the shadowed beast. War was subjective; a war raging in his mind and a war where casualties were indefinite; he wanted to wage one, a war of understanding, a war of indifference. Plenty of loathe had corrupted the pack, but he played no part in the hatred wandering from being to being. The workings of others made him wait patiently, biding his time to stomp the ground with thunderous hooves in preparation for war that would one day lead to bodies on the ground.

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- Chapter Two
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While the God had no direct contact with the mortals much like Lavosa did--the godly being did however indulge in watching. Watching as mortal bonds were both created and broken. In a way-- he pitied and both felt empathetic towards the beings. But at the very back of his mind all he could feel was the raging, burning hatred--that ingulfed him with the associated memory towards the mortals. So, while he watched--he also planned. Setting aside those who he considered 'worthy' and those who would possibly one day meet their end via his own careful planning. He was--after all a warmonger. Unless something managed to alter his way of thinking before he could initiate what he was sure Anthek was already beginning to 'watch out' for.

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- Chapter Three
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It seemed--sadly--as if he was the only one who didn't notice the oncoming danger until it was right in front of him. It had shocked him--to say the least, that he was looking at the progeny of two gods. Something that hadn't happened in his immortal lifespan ever as far as he was remembered. He was glad to know, however--that at least he wasn't the only one both disturbed but intrigued by the news. As he locked eyes with the hunched beast that was most certainly a child of a newly formed couple--he couldn't help the slight discomfort that swelled in his gut, and before he knew it, he had looked away. But normally where his exposed back would be comforted by the knowledge a certain Gods' sister was keeping watch of him--all he felt was cold nothingness. What? His gaze had returned--only to see the Goddess that had vied for his attention so passionately almost enraptured in the glowing red gaze of the newcomer. And for the first time--far surpassing his urge to just do something--he felt rage build in the mass of his chest.

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- Chapter Four
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Was he being played? Most likely. That didn't stop the behemoth from reacting, however. That didn't stop the rage from building in his chest and his powers to seep threateningly beneath his skin. Wherever he looked--it was always them. Talking and then Zefilis's red eyes meeting his as if he knew just how much he got under his skin. And Entrite? The foolish female hadn't bothered to talk nor glance his way more than but a few times before returning her gaze to the damned hyena. Just how much could his patience take-- how much longer could he withhold his rage, before he unleashed on the child that he knew would stand no chance.

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Noronus's Preferred Form;