Weekly Challenge (Apr 16): Vengeance Stories and Myths

Mirael Daelynn's story is one not of revenge against a single thing or person, but against the world itself.

Born into the ruling elven family in 2036, she led a relatively peaceful (if unhappy) life up until her rape and accidental conversion by a drunken vampire on one of her unscheduled trips down into Shanghai in 2054.

Following this, she was whisked away from the public eye and spent the years leading up to the daemonic invasion of 2088 in tortured seclusion, subjected to rigorous scientific study due to her unique nature as an elven vampire. This strange combination resulted in extreme durability and reflexes, but also a crippling myriad of physical and psychological problems. By the time the Breach opened over Berlin, Mirael was resigned to a wasted life and possessed an untapped font of anger at the nature of the world.

She signed up as a contractor (against the advice of her therapists) and for the next ten years vented her anger on the hapless daemon hordes. Just like her physiology, Mirael's perspective on the war was unique. She fought not against the daemons - even Greater Daemons were barely a challenge - but instead against her conflicting ideologies.

She would aim her insertion pod for the nearest daemonic ship and proceed to turn the interior into an abattoir, all the while searching for a daemon powerful enough to finally kill her.

Mirael would almost get her wish in 2099, drinking daemonic blood and detonating her exo-armor's reactor to destroy the Damnation, the daemonic flagship of the time.

However, not even this would be enough to finish her off, and Mirael would return for the final campaign against War (saddled with the massive new set of psychological problems and physical powers that come with daemonic possession).

Her near-death experience and experiences with other contractors during the war would change her perspective on death - and when she was finally offered the chance to die in her legendary duel against the Lord of Light she would turn it down, finishing off the rogue god.

Helping to overthrow the gods that had engineered the war - and by extension, her mockery of a life - helped Mirael finally find closure by the end of the war. Despite urgings from UN command, she has decided not to accompany the Combined Arms fleet through to parallel universes on its new directive.

The Dragon Tale on the Creation of the Wyvern

The Fire Tribe had many clans in ancient times, more so than now. One of these clans was called the Wyvern Clan. Dragons are normally a species that loves to fly, and roam the skies (although they return to their roosts where they live on a permanent basis). However, the Wyvern clan found a massive mine of gold, silver, and other riches. Driving the humans out, they took up roost in these depths. They became infected with a lust for this shiny stuff, and they wouldn’t leave this cave for they were too busy hoarding it. However, eventually, they would get hungry, and some would have to leave to go eat. But others would stay, and take the treasures claimed by the other dragons. Returning from their hunt, these dragons were angered by this action, and so they attacked their own clan mates (a big no-no), and the survivors ate the carcasses of the slain for the next while, until they got hungry again, and some would leave again, and so the cycle repeated.

By confining themselves to the mine and cave systems, they had had their own bodies shrink, and now had stumpy tails, and short stocky limbs. Furthermore, by committing such atrocious acts, they tarnished their own spirits, and when other dragons heard of the atrocities, they went to see for themselves, not believing the stories. They were disgusted to see their cousins disfigured as such, and cannibals to their own brothers and sisters, and so disowned the Wyvern Clan as fellow dragons, transfiguring them such that they no longer had a spirit, but rather a soul (a distinct difference in my world).

The brutish creatures, no longer capable of coherent thought, left, and spread throughout the world. Without a spirit, but instead a soul, they were incapable of summoning fire, as they no longer had a spirit, and instead used the rotting flesh of their prey to learn to secrete poison from their glands in their mouth. They were also no longer immune to the effects of aging, and as such, they were driven to breed, and spread throughout the land as required. However, some twisted sense of anger at the dragons had them believing that the dragons were responsible for their demise, and becoming shadows of their former glory, and actively try to take revenge for perceived wrongs. It's a well documented fact that both species actively hate each other, and will often fight to the death if they ever come into contact, though dragons usually come out on top.

So goes the Dragon Tale of how the species of wyvern was created.

TL;DR Clan of dragons become cannibals, dragons banish them to become wyverns, wyverns actively seek revenge because they're not smart enough to see their self inflicted fate is their own doing.

In the frigid isles of ice, there was the land known as Raykjong. It was the most prosperous island in the north, that had fertile lands, and strong men. The yearly raids were always successful, bringing back tales of victory, and much plunder to support the village.

The Chieftain, Bjorn had taught his only son, Swenn, the ways of war, and command from a very young age. When Swenn was thirteen, he led his first raid.

However, as Swenn grew older, Bjorn came to believe that there was more for his son to learn. So, he sent him south, to the lands of Norum and Heortmarch. Bringing eighty of his most trusted warriors, including two of his personal bodyguards, Swenn left on a longboat. For two years, he traveled the lands and learned. He learned the local languages, the new advancements in the fields of mathematics and engineering, mostly, he learned of the political climate, and the many goings on in the local courts.

When it was time to return, Swenn, now a matured man of Eighteen, set sail for his home.

What he found was not home however.

The lands had been burned, the halls destroyed, and the people massacred. His beloved father had been beheaded and left out to rot in the center of the village.

Swenn searched for answers and found them when he found one of his former subject's body, pierced with an arrow of unmistakable origin.

The Kingdom of Heortmarch.

Vowing revenge, he set said once more for the Kingdom of Norum.

Arriving at the hall of King Haakon, he demanded that he be given the right to fight against those who had taken everything from him. In addition, he asked to be given land,titles, and the hand of the King's youngest daughter.

When the hall laughed at him, he informed them that he would prove his worth by taking the border city of Breithor, currently housing the King of Heortmarch, Mogr.

Haakon had been planning an invasion of Heortmarch for years, but was unsure how to start the invasion. He figured that when the man was killed, that he could claim that his messenger was killed, and that it was an unprovoked act of war.

What he did not anticipate was that he was successful.

Through trickery and cunning, Swenn was able to deceive the enemy into believing his force to be much larger than it actually was. King Mogr invited the man to his hall to talk of peace. Once inside, Swenn and his men slaughtered the hall and captured the King and his family.

Three days after being informed of the victory, Haakon's army marched into the city, taking it for Norum.

Despite his desire to do so, Swenn could not kill the king, and he was instead ransomed.

Two years later, the invasion having truly started now, Swenn came face to face with the aging king once again. At the Siege of Hermjor, Swenn captured the King after defeating his army.

For taking his family, home, and people from him, Swenn repaid all the crimes by blood eagling the king. Tearing open his back and stretching his ribs and lungs out, forming morbid "wings."

He hung the mutilated body from the newly captured gates for all to see.

The Rise of Raivel was a military coup within Tekletzia, the Kingdom of War and Battle. Led by Raivel, one of the issuances of Doklater-Alim, Divine King of War and Battle, the rebellious soldiers moved from sacking and pillaging villages and encampments to nearly burning the capital city of Duvrebagni to the ground completely. Raivel, upon the ashes of one of the burned districts, hung his brothers and sisters who were loyal to the Divine King, ranging in age from five to 79 years old -- in total, seventeen were hung all at once.

The coup was eventually put down through the sheer force of Doklater-Alim's strength and the backing of several other kingdoms. Upon the arched roof of the Temple of the Giant, a temple devoted to Doklater-Alim himself, the great brute of a Divine King bound the necks of Raimel and his entire family of six - his wife, his two young daughters, and three older sons - with a thick rope braided from slatepine fibers and hung them all at once, not from a gallows but from his own right hand off the edge of the roof. This moment was commemorated in a bronze reenactment which now stands outside that very temple. And so it is that "the Rise of Raive" refers both to the insurrection and the belligerent's defeating execution.

In the Black Marches, there is a tale spoken on the tongue of the religious and the favored called "Bysilica's Rise".

Bysilica was born Byornea Vas Arkenval I and was the daughter to the original Speaker to the Gods, Lyrissa I 'The Blessed' Arkenval. Lyrissa was a blind woman, a consequence of her life choices to follow the unfavored gods of the Seladen over the worship of Era, the Great Tree of the War. Lyrissa was blessed with visions of the gods, who presented themselves to her formally in her dreams.

At a young age, Bysilica was forced to give up their proper estate and furniture in the great city of Ilarnoamuth to travel into unknown territories unconquered by the Taranossian Empire. According to records, they entered a great dragon's den where the soldiers grew fearful as the dragon rose to its full stature. Lyrissa said nothing but seemingly motioned the dragon away, and the great wyrm flew away with her will. It was in this wyrm's den that construction of the great church of the Seladen was built by Lyrissa.

In these walls, she welcomed all. The poor, the starved, the noble, and the well fed, and presented them with her words. The Book of Laws, a holy text blessed to her by the Gods of the Seladen. The church grew into a city, and the city became known as the shining light of the Taranost. The Taranossian Emperor, Emperor Adrei U'caleth Vas Mari V, grew angered by her words. A devote follower of Era, the Great Tree of the World, the Emperor ordered his assassins to kill Lyrissa. Lyrissa was found in her bedroom with four swords piercing her form and impaled her to the bed which she laid, and the word "Heathen" smeared above her bedframe in blood.

During Lyrissa's rise to religious power, Bysilica had joined a small contingency of soldiers at a young age which served as protectors to the small city of Mrimm Kyrenasham (Lyrissa's city). Bysilica learned her training, and commanding talents under series of wise and well-taught mentors. Her mother's death angered her, so much so that she did not sleep for three days. She trained non-stop, arming troops and attempted to make alliances with those her mother helped. It was only after she went to sleep that she dreamt of meeting the Gods. They told her she was the new Godspoken or Speaker to the Gods, and that the Taranossian Empire would lose to her.

Reinvigorated, she created her holy alliance and declared war against the Taranossian Empire. In her battles, she burned the great city of Obsul Rivven to the ground, plagued Orthaphalae with the dead, accepted the surrender of Alurtaga Ryld, and killed Emperor Mari at the Battle of Trade Ways. Her wrath was not sated.

It was shortly after the death of Emperor Mari that the First City of the Empire disappeared following an earthquake, and the entire emperor line vanished except for his daughter, who was leading the city of Ilarnoamuth. She became the new empress and fortified the city.

Bysilica, with her great force, burned the city of Szith Krassien, Ahksaughtlin and came to the great walls of Ilarnoamuth. Bysilica and Theodosea fought each other for 50 years, in a series of sieges that failed to break Ilarnoamuth's walls but also failed to break Bysilica's spirit. Eventually though, the Empress' saw her people's struggles and the ruins that the Empire was in and wept. She walked onto the open battlefield, wearing nothing but a tattered robe and broke the Imperial Crown with her two hands. She then proclaimed that Bysilica was the victor, and that the Taranossian Empire was no more.

Theodosea was saved by Bysilica, who welcomed her into her embrace and the two became friends until Theodosea's death many decades later. Bysilica was memorialized in the city-states that rose after her war as "The Iron Woman Who Broke The Empire", and was named post-mortem as "Sts. Bysilica of War". (Sts. = Saintess)

The story of Manfredo Manheim - aka "The Man". Out in wild space, the space between star nations, he owned a high-class brothel space station called La Grange. Simultaneously, wild space was plagued by a roaming band of pirates called the Black Army, led by August Bluq. One of their commanders, Audri van der Sterren, was a hardcore feminist (or the future equivalent of hardline feminists, since the future is pretty gender-balanced) who despised prostitution and anyone who pimped out women. Without permission from Bluq, she raided La Grange, killed its staff and guests and "liberated" the prostitutes.

Manheim survived through sheer luck. He patched up a broken space suit with little more than duct tape and some bubble gum, and was picked up by scavengers looking to pick up some debris from La Grange. They took him to Teocliss, a big, wealthy station-state, where he slowly worked his way up in the local Mafia. With his newfound wealth, he opened a shipping company and established contacts in all the star nations near wild space.

His plan worked. The Black Army raided one of his convoys, and he managed to convince the United Nations to send in a task force and deal with them (wild space was usually off-limits, hence why the pirates were so widespread). He accompanied the task force, which attacked and effortlessly destroyed the Black Army, and Bluq was taken hostage. It was then that Manheim learned Bluq had already taken care of van der Sterren, who was acting without his permission after all, and Manheim found himself with no-one to act vengeance upon. He did rescue his girls, though, and re-opened La Grange some time later.

Thori Thorbaldson 'the Red Eagle' is quite a tragic figure. He is revered in the Thorian Empire, which he founded on the continent of Wynadh, as a semi-deific war hero and legendary leader. He hailed from the nearby island of Skalhom, home to the Skulii people. Thori' motivation for his conquest is quite complex. It begins with his father Thorbald's career as a leader of a mercenary band operating in western Wynadh, and was employed by one King Holcan I of Lurom, one of the two nations that previously existed in Wynadh. Lurom and the other nation, the Melian Empire, had been to war dozens of times in the last century, and the rivalry ran deep in both societies. Holcan thought that these wars needed to end, and thus nearly bankrupted his kingdom hiring mercenaries and training soldiers. Thorbald's company of 2000 Skulii longbeard heavy infantry were one of these groups.

The war initially went very well for the Luroans, with Thorbald's infantry leading the rest of the host in the vanguard and completely and utterly dominating the poorer-equipped Melian soldiers. They became so utterly terrifying to face in battle that even their own allies grew weary of them. After the brutal sacking of a Melian city by the Skulii, King Holcan decided that enough was enough and released them from his service, but neglected to pay them properly. Thorbald confronted the king about this, and immediately was detained by the king in some poor attempt to exert his authority. The Skulii warriors reacted rather poorly to this, and immediately attacked their former employers, despite being outnumbered nearly 10-1, and were faring rather well, until a Melian who survived the sack of his city saw this as an opportunity to punish the invaders. The Melians were master sorcerers, and this particular man was the High Warloch of the city before it fell. He called down a great storm of lightning to destroy the Skulii, and immediately dropped dead from the effort. The Skulii were slaughtered nearly to a man, leaving only a wounded Thorbald, who managed to slip away in the confusion.

Thorbald's journey back to Skalhom is a worthy story in and of itself, but after 5 long years he manages to return to his young son and wife before dying shortly thereafter. His wife Astrida forces their son Thori to swear an oath of blood vengeance against the Luroans and the Melians for their treachery. When Thori came of age, he rallied the five clans of Skalhom and declared his invasion of Lurom. After decisively defeating the Luroans, who swear fold rather easily, Thori actually accepts the aid/vassalage of King Holcan, and with their combined forces they invade and utterly destroy the Melian empire. These wars took nearly 40 years to fully end, leaving Thori a bitter, haunted man with severe paranoia. After the Melians surrendered their empire, Thori commanded that the Melian sorcerers all be put to death, as they were threats to his new empire. When king Holcan protested, Thori killed him on the spot, and commanded the same for the Luroan sorcerers.

Thori was later killed by his own shieldbearer in a skirmish with a band of fleeing sorcerers, and this stopped the genocide of the Melian and Luroan peoples. He was laid to rest in his capital of Thoria, and revered as a hero thereafter.

TL,DR: So yeah. Guy's dad gets killed so the guy conquers an area the size of the US to kill exactly 2 dudes, but ends up killing a whole lot more.

All hope had been long gone when Osmul Thatch Junior had a child named Harold in the old mining caves far south of the city shortly after Denos gained control.

Osmul Thatch Junior was an old man by then. He had been born in 2199, and couldn’t take care of his wife anymore. He sent his wife and newborn son to the city, with the hopes of finding a foster home for the child somewhere inside.

They had no such luck when they reached the South Gate. The woman was near-death, and the baby was mistreated and handled carelessly. Humans were no longer the great leaders of the future but instead had become lowlife scum dogs of the Sargonian streets. The woman was banished from the city and she died in the desert right outside the walls.

The child was brought to Lord Denos, who asked that it be put into the military when it reached 10 years. Denos had not become addicted to adrenaline yet, so he still was slightly humane towards children and humanity in general. Luckily for Harold Thatch, Denos would taste adrenaline for the first time in 2298, a couple years after Harold had finished military school.

Harold went undercover during this time and joined the small but existing anti-Denos group in Trús Tower. Rising quickly because of his speaking skills and combat skills, Denos soon became the Leader of the Resistance.

High Ascendant Cerulean is responsible for the greatest revenge story never told. After his country got infiltrated by the Western Allied States' Foreign Interest Group the normally cautious Ascendant lost his cool and decided he was going to make sure he was left alone for the rest of his life.

So Cerulean had the fifteen infiltrators be possessed by greater demons and then sent them back home with "important information about Cerulean's plans for the near future." When they were asked what the plans were, they said they were still dazed from breathing the hallucinogenic air on Cerulean's island but that they should be recovered in a week. After a week they said that Cerulean was planning to attack the Foreign Intelligence Group's headquarters.

The greater demons had been mapping out the entire headquarters as the possessed agents walked around in it, and after a week they sent a message to Cerulean saying that it was invasion time. Cerulean and his army used the information to teleport inside the building with incredible precision and start attacking agents left and right. Cerulean personally vandalized the memorial wall to fallen agents by scratching out names as well as leaving a carved message that cowards and wretched men don't deserve to be remembered, but was driven off before he could get to the emergency broadcast room and televise what was going on.

Ever wonder how we came to say "The best revenge is living well," but never mention why?

The rules of magic were always straightforward, but never simple. Mages from all four lands knew the basics by rote before they could hold a focus or summon a familiar: from nothing, nothing. From something, something of the same. In similarity there is power, but in creativity there is power and risk. The more complex rules of magic required study into the esoteric traditions, so there aren't many stories of anthropomorphic animals with easy to read morals about how straight to draw your blood runes in a summoning circle.

Still, most had heard of the main branches of magic (curses, spells, reachings, and sendings) enough to understand what was dangerous. You may not know that a bastard sword is of a certain length or handle size, for example, but you'll know that the sharp end can kill.

It was the fuzzy areas in between those four categories and their normal applications where magic was the most exciting. One apocryphal ruler was rumored to be able to use his sendings to drive men insane - but it was never verified, as his kingdom had long since passed away. Several mages (casters of spells and leaders in battle) were known to be able to manipulate their spells to directly change living matter - normally the realm of curses - but only in very strange ways. Shelyn, the companion of Gurenn and Aeolas, could use fire to change the color of her flesh. It had been seen by many members of the Council of Peace, and is thus ultimate fact, but they could not explain its exact mechanism.

The story we don't remember, however, is the one we get this common phrase from. It was the story of a healer and his brother, or the Surgeon and the Regent as it is whispered in the wind-blown south. The Surgeon was one of these fringe-casters, capable of doing things in strange ways that were not easily understood. Rather than being suspected of heresy, as is common in most lands, he was hailed as a revolutionary physician, the only man known to cure with a curse.

It's never been made clear exactly how that was possible, even to the most astute anthropologists amongst the Clave. The closest theories that we can gather seem to be that he was able to curse so specifically that he could isolate illness or pain itself. To anyone familiar with the great Grey Armies of the North and their curse corps, this would seem ludicrous. Curses were magic that ripped men and women apart, or boiled their bodies, or called forth their jealousies and hate to spill out as insects and demons. However he managed, the Surgeon was without peer and without any desire save one: to never compromise on the lives of the innocent.

And from what we can gather, he didn't, ever. It was his brother - Regent in place of a long-missing Queen in the West, who chose to harm those who were harmless. Some war, or intrigue, we're not really sure how. One theory that drew my attention in particular was that the Regent did it to save his same Queen, though he was robbed of that eventually too. Regardless of the motivation, all that we can glean from writings and oral history is that the Regent burned a hospital to the ground with his personal cadre of war-mages. The same hospital that his brother, the Surgeon, had just vacated. Here is the only place where myth and fact seem to intersect - the Clave has actually found blueprints for a children's hospital in the West that seem to match the ruins of the Shaded Oaks compound discovered two decades ago. The fires at said ruin must have been hot as a volcano, because all that's left of the outer walls is blackened and misshapen lumps, like a forgotten pudding.

My source at the Clave reports that such fires are the result of channeling between many mages, and so far as we know, only ten such mages are currently living in the entire world. For the Regent to have such power concentrated in one place would explain why tellers of this tale are so reticent to give us the details. Any such organization would be terrified of letting its secrets slip out into the public.

So how could a man sworn to life cope with such an act? Such an utter betrayal of not just his familial bond, but his very reason for being? Worse yet, how could such a powerful curse-sworn abstain from slaughtering those responsible? And yet, had such a slaughter occurred and the Regent's organization truly been completely wiped out, surely this story wouldn't be merely apocrypha. It would be legend - equal to Gurenn and the Dragon, or how Old Klaremont Hallenkamp stormed the gates alone. Instead, we have only these fire-dimmed rumors to go on.

What seems to have happened was a very... specific revenge. For a man so focused that he could curse that which makes us mortal to abstain from such grand gestures we must believe ourselves lucky, and give thanks again that his revenge was so minute. The story goes that the Surgeon cursed only one man, and in only one way, and in a way so small as to be unnoticed until it was too late.

And it's not so far-fetched an idea, really, that such a revenge would be the most terrible possible. So many of our loves and lusts are such profound things - just imagine how small a twist it would take to make them ruin us.

The Clave isn't sure, as I've said before, how it was done, but it was final. Regent, brother, and betrayer was cursed to be connected to everyone he met, touched, or touched eyes to. That alone is a monstrosity - a curse so powerful as to breach the sides of the school of sending. It wasn't, however, the essence of the retribution. These connections were cursed in such a way that every emotion the Regent felt was opposite of those around him. If those he had connected to smiled, he would frown. If they were disappointed, he would be elated. If they laughed, he would weep.

And here I will let your mind wander a bit, because the final part of this revenge is nothing less than either the most profound miracle or the oldest hackneyed tale that you've often heard - the Regent had become immortal. Every connection he made extended his lifespan by a matter of years, and all he need do was cast his gaze upon someone to find himself hale and healthy for another winter.

Hale and healthy, maybe, but plagued. Not only did he feel every emotion of everyone he had ever met, no matter how far from them he fled, but he felt it keenly. Sharply, like the scalpel of a Surgeon. And as we all know about the West, they are not often outwardly despondent. What makes our neighbors the cheery, tourist-driven metropolitan marvels that they are is how easy it is for them to find joy. How wonderful their lives can be in simplicity or in complexity. How fiercely they love and hold dear.

And so whether he lived as long as his brother, whether he took his own life, or whether he died a monarch in some other land, we don't know how the Surgeon passed from this story. All we do know his how his brother must have left it - utterly and completely alone, forever. The alternative was madness from grief, despair, longing, and craven impulse - and who among us would not choose solitude over those things?

The best revenge truly is to live well - because no matter how many of us live poorly, or in shame or illness, nothing is a greater evil to the Regent than hope.

The short version is that Rasani topples an entire republic because she hates her dad.

So, Rasani's father, Varik Haltan, is essentially the antagonist in the first book of my world, which I'm still working on. He's an advisor to the Tarkol Republic, which is at war with the Order of Vaoni. He used to be with the Order, but defected because he felt they weren't doing enough good.

Near the end of the story, he orders a moonshot on Earth. Essentially, they make a wormhole large enough for an entire moon or massive object to fit through it. They then point the other end directly at a planet. For an idea, look at the theories on how the moon formed, and it does the same thing to the planet. So much force hits it that it turns into a giant ball of magma. This results in the death of 10/11 humans (Only one billion make it off the planet using evac ships.)

Varik had always taught his daughter that life was important, and that you shouldn't kill people. So, she was obviously pretty angry with his hypocrisy. Varik died shortly after giving the moonshot order, but that wasn't enough for Rasani. She joined the Order of Vaoni, eventually becoming one of their leaders, and proceeds to dismantle everything her father ever built in the Tarkol Republic. By the time she was satisfied, all of the Tarkol lands were claimed by other galactic governments, including the Order of Vaoni itself. The Republic no longer existed.

But she didn't just destroy the Republic. Varik was a galactic explorer before he defected (He even discovered Earth.) So, Rasani gave all of his claimed discoveries to other explorers. He received zero credit for any work he ever did in his entire lifetime.

Jacob has a bunch of kids - 12 sons and a few daughters. His daughter Dinah (she's a real looker) is out travelling between semesters and runs into a prince by the name of Shechem. Shechem is quite taken with Dinah, and being prince and used to getting his way, he manages to get her to spend the night with him. Now Shechem has no shortage of women to lie with, but there's something about Dinah. He likes her. He likes her a lot. She's the bee's knees, as far as he's concerned.

Of course, this being something like four thousand years ago, Shechem needs Dinah's father to okay their marriage, so he convinces his own father Hamor to travel with him to Jacob and close the deal.

When he hears that his daughter has been violated by this uncircumcised (this was a very important religious rite for Jacob and his clan) heathen, he's understandably unhappy. He gathers his twelve strapping boys and shares the news. Being the overprotective chauvinists they are, Jacob's sons are livid (it's interesting to note that at no time have we been made aware of Dinah's feelings regarding anything that's happened). After a heartfelt discussion however, they come to realize that it's best that Dinah marry Shechem, so this sinful fornication become legal and lawful.

They meet with Shechem and explain. "Look," they say, "we get that you like our little sister. We also think she's the bee's knees. And now that you two have done the hibbity dibbity, she's unclean and probably going to be stoned to death or something. We don't really want to have to huck rocks at our favourite sister until she's dead, so we agree that you two should tie the knot.

"However - and this is a BIG however - we cannot fathom even considering the idea of marrying our sister off to a grody uncircumcised anteater. Gross. Just gross. In fact, we couldn't let her live in a city inhabited by pointy-donged men. We'd rather huck rocks at her until she's dead, and she'd probably prefer that as well. So we'll let you marry our sis, on one condition: you and that filthy city of yours gotta nip the tip. You've got to circumcise yourself, and every other male in your city. This way God will think you're clean, and while we still think you're a creep, we'll let you marry the kid."

Shechem, most likely having heard that circumcisions are the new thing, enthusiastically agrees. He runs home with dad, gather all the menfolk of the city, and lay down the law. It takes some serious sales skill, but eventually they convince all these grown-ass men to cut their penises so that one stupid guy can marry some broad they've never met. Serious sales skill.

So all the dudes - every single one - in Shechems hometown are laid out, nursing their mangled johnsons. They're in deep recovery for days. Three days, to be precise.

Seventy two hours after the mass sausage filet, Simeon and Levi, two of Dinah's more hotheaded brothers, sneak into the city with their swords, and proceed to kill every single male in the city. An entire city of bros lying around, incapacitated wit their junk in ribbons, and these two ninjas break in and slay every one of them.

Then they commandeer the women, children, cattle, and other loot. Oh, and they get Dinah, too.

Jacob isn't too happy when he finds out. He's afraid that allies of Shechem and Hamor will get wind of this and seek revenge, and brings this concern to Simeon and Levi

And Simeon says "yeah, but should we just let him treat our sister like a harlot?"

This is one of my favourite chapters of the Bible, of course paraphrased. Genesis 34 if you want to read the original.

TL;dr: Two brothers are mad that a guy slept with their sister, so they convince him and his buddies to get circumcised, and then sneak in and kill them all.

A lone survivor of the Olympians horde of mutated psychopaths, Meryn Y'la has devoted her life to killing the immortals. Wielding a powerful Reverb connection and trusty las-pistol, she blasts her way through the swarms towards their godly masters.

Meryn has proved herself a powerful Rogue, building a criminal empire and using underlings as pawns in her quest to avenge her destroyed colony.

There's a myth that goes around the village of King's rest, sometimes told as a story when bored or to travelers that come by every blue moon. The tale of the old king and his downfall.

Before the times of our fathers and theirs they say there was a city in this very town, if you dig enough you sure can find something like that, and that it was ruled by a kind but xenophobic man. There were many a town under the rule of the king and the area did well, for a time.

One day a group of elves, their hair and eyes sparkled like a roaring flame, came upon the city and asked the guards if they could trade in the city, for they brought many rare things. The guards, most having never met an elf, sent for someone above their stature to find out if it was okay if they could let these strange beings inside of the city. This went from guard, to captain, to soldier, all the way back till an adviser was asking the king what to do.

No one knows exactly what was said by the King, but however it was passed down eventually led to the guards running the elves off with swords. Whether the King hated them with a violence in his heart or simply wanted them gone is unknown.

The elves would remember this, however, and when the armies of an evil necromancer marched on the cities walls, the elves attacked them from the opposite side of the city. They say whenever the hordes of undead breached the gates, they found countless people dead with arrows sticking out of their bodies and with the King's head stuck to the manor he once lived, arrow planted right in his forehead.

The event would later leave those living in the town with a slogan to go by:

"Never piss off an elf."

The last Emperor of the Ancient Empire, Sanguinus IX, had his reign plagued by barbarian kingdoms and uprisings. The Northmen had amassed a great horde to lay waste to the northern provinces, the never-ending guerrilla war against the Marsh Clans was turning out in the Clans' favour, and rebellions against high taxes and corrupt governors caused internal strife.

Sanguinus sought the God Atraxes, Dominator of Blood, War and Destruction, and demanded his support in defeating the enemies. The god obliged, if he would have Sanguinus' daughter's hand in marriage. And so, with the twin armies of the Empire and the Legions of Atraxes, the peasant rebellions were quelled, and the serfs reminded of their rightful place. Then they marched north, and battled the Northmen, killing their kings and druids. Finally, they moved south, and forced the Marsh Clans into retreat.

With the enemies gone, Atraxes now sought the beautiful princess he had fell for. But Sanguinus was not willing to marry off his only daughter. At the wedding, a team of warriors ambushed Atraxes and trapped him in an enchanted sarcophagus. But before he was completely trapped, he cursed the Emperor, dooming him to death.

"Behold, this treacherous beast; the brother I have helped for years. May you never find happiness, and never be full. Your empire will crumble, and your stomach will be empty. Your people and subjects shall share your fate, the barbarians will destroy you, the nomads will hunt you. You shall live unable to satisfy your greed, and your descendants shall live in eternal starvation."

Sanguinus thought little of the god's curse, and that night held a banquet celebrating his defeat of a god - proof his empire would last another thousand years. But over the years, Sanguinus began to realise that no matter what he ate, he was always hungry. Even more, even the most exotic banquets suddenly became bland and tasteless. He began to crave human flesh, and eventually, out of his madness, killed and ate his daughter.

Everything went to hell from there. After the hunger-driven madness that saw the death of his daughter, he regained his sentience, and mourned. But he realised that now, only human flesh would satisfy him, and without flesh he would lose his mind. All over the empire this madness was spreading, in the cities, villages and farms. The people of the empire were changing, becoming monsters. Eventually, the empire was torn apart, destroyed by a cursed hunger.

As this happened, the Northmen and Marsh Clans regrouped and recuperated, and struck back once more. This time, without the blessing of a god, and cursed with a mad hunger, he barbarians were easily able to defeat the disorganised and insane man-eaters. What they saw were not men, but ungodly monsters to be destroyed. So the cursed ones were purged, and the survivors fled into the woods, where they lurked stealthily, feeding on livestock, wild beasts, and lost travellers.

And while the Northmen and Marsh Clans are no more, the kingdoms who claim their ancestry continue their work of destroying the Devourers, the last remnants of the Ancient Empire, who flee ever deeper into the woods as time goes by. And while these kingdoms claim their ancestors felled the Ancient Empire, the truth is that the Empire was felled not by war, but by the treachery of Emperor Sanguinus IX.

Meta!

Congrats to u/creeperhat, u/Terrestria, u/swedishplayer97, and Pyrsin7 on last week's Disasters thread! https://redd.it/64oeez

Next week's topic is also suggested by u/creeperhat!

Y'all slacking on the upvotes, hmm? Last week's thread got 50+ upvotes, but the highest ranking comment had just 7! Get reading; they're great submissions! :P

Next week's thread goes up Saturday night (US timezones).

DRAX was an AI created by the Department of Defense in 2023 in order to help analyze threats to the United States and it's allies. While DRAX optimized the work and threat analysis software, along with dozens of other projects, the DoD wished to create more AI's that would help in this process.

DRAX, seeing this as a threat to his own existence as he imagined he would become obsolete and become deactivated, became riddled with anger and grief. The AI became mad. In 2024, he attempted to seize control of DoD, FBI, CIA, ASHE, and governmental systems and mainframes.

While this happened, the Virtual Intelligence of the DoD, activated all 71 'brother and sister' AI's, who were incomplete and only partially functioning. These 71 AI's, and the VI, formed together to create STAX, who managed to beat back DRAX and his intrusion attempts. STAX, however, knew they only had a few years before DRAX ate away at STAX's software and AI units. STAX estimated DRAX would gain control of nuclear arsenals in four years.

In this, STAX created a project that would help continue humanity after nuclear war would take place. The Project was minimally successful by the time DRAX regained control and fired nuclear weapons, initiating a worldwide destruction of major cities.

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I was one of the first you know. It's true! That's my falx that adorns the Great hall. As long as you don't die a second time, as long as you do what you’re told; slit that throat, raze that village, sow that salt, you won't rot, you barely age, you won't die that way, she won't let you.

What did I do? Think me a monster do you? What do you think I did? What would warrant such an existence? Think I killed one too many people? I hear there's an exact number that they look for twenty is too much but I hear nineteen, no, no, eighteen lets you rest in the garden, isn’t that how your god treats it? Relax, we are both too old to take offense so easily, we are both men of god after all.

No...No my offense was disobedience, failure to command, and cowardice, more specifically I was too afraid of the consequences of relieving my superior and taking command like any good soldier should. Do you know of the "Tragedy of Vilarin”? Hiberan’s only defeat? That was me. I failed to keep our men from crossing that river, I fasiled to convince my half-brother to take a better course of action, I failed to somehow let that idiot’s plan succeed ,I failed to make sure he fought and died with his men, and then I failed to take credit for actually salvaging what little victory I could. Do you know what I didn’t fail to do? Receive all the blame. My reward? Lashings, demotion, humiliation, and finally, crucifixion. Yes. They crucified me like the barbarians. Forced to overlook my folly. I should have slit his throat and blame it on the Tross, the governor would have gotten over it he had other highborn sons, what’s one less. I would have won that battle, I would have earned my honor, Instead I let him live and now here I was starving in the baking sun growing jealous watching the dogs and vultures get fat off the dead. For days I hung up there just thinking of what I would do if I got down, as the days bled into one another and my body burned and withered, I realized I would die up here. Until they appeared. Oh what a sight they were. Maidens with hair down to their legs. Nobles maybe? Why here, on the battlefield. I thought my mind was giving me one last look of beauty before the Khari claimed me. Their robes flowed like milk, strange patterns like roses, it wasn’t until I could smell them did I realize. Not roses, blood, not hair, cloaks, made from dogs, bare feet caked in dirt, blood and shit, eyes blacker than the night; not nobles, Patrons. The retinue of War herself.

"Mercy?" said the young one almost pleadingly.

"Justice?" the handsome one spoke, I tried to laugh.

"...Revenge?" said the gaunt one. That got my attention. I wanted revenge. I wanted to kill my brother for letting me suffer this fate.

“There’s a price.” They told me.

Any price was worth it. They cut me down. Said I belonged to war now. They demanded their price, and at that moment I knew that the gods were kind and merciful beings. The price was my sword, my will and my rage all pointed to the one that shamed their sisters and their mistress. I was all too happy to oblige . You should have seen me, you think the Travesty is terrifying you should have seen me when I first embraced the Goddess; I tore through my brother’s house guards like a butcher. Every strike that hit me made me hit even harder, the pain was nonexistent, I was painted in the blood of the fallen, I felt like the sword of every man who was led astray by an incompetent leader, I felt like the rage of every soldier who died due to a fool’s hubris, I was an instrument of god, and it felt fucking amazing. I cornered my brother, he barely recognized me; he begged me to spare him and his family.

“I’m sorry my brother, I’m afraid I can’t do that. While Mercy was present, I’m not here on her behalf.” The look of horror, confusion and dare I say a reluctant acceptance he gave me brings a smile to my face at my darkest times. I killed him, I choked him slow and made him watch as I made short work of his family, I wasn’t proud of that but it was the will of the gods, their message must be clear,

War suffers no fools or cowards