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Chapter 103 the plotting of gods

  Well, some of the monster gods celebrated their turn of fortune; those that found their fortunes turning for the worse plotted to stop the switch. Those most affected talked to those that weren't to ask for aid, warning them of what was to happen to them if they were not helped before it got to them. The goddess of the Hydrapanica forest was one example of this.

  The female goddess Hydrania paced in her realm. She was distraught as her forest and her elves were suddenly on the back foot. "Why did this have to happen? Everything was going so well." Hydrania screamed aloud in frustration before going back to pacing back and forth, her thoughts whirling as she tried to come to grips with what was going on. Her pink and white hair whipped around her as she walked.

  Everything has been going great for Hydrania. The forest was healthy; her specific brand of elves were growing in number, and there were no wars on the horizon or plagues threatening the forest. Hydrania had been looking forward to great growth that was going to cause her to rise in rank among the elven forest gods. Then it all went horribly wrong as suddenly there were giant Pavooths everywhere eating every tree in sight and effectively laying siege to her villages.

  Her elves, of course, were trying to fight back, but all their wooden weapons were being eaten, and the elves only used wooden weaponry. Which usually wasn't a problem, as they were infused with magic to make them stronger and give them abilities. Now though the wooden weapons were eaten as soon as they were brought to bear. It was effectively a hopeless situation, and so she had tried to reach out for aid.

  It had not gone well in the other forest; even the gods were not taking her seriously. As the Pavooth had been nothing but vermin to be used as target practice for so long, no one took them seriously as a threat. So when she called for aid against them, none took the call seriously. She would be angry about it if she didn't know for a fact she would be the same if the situation was reversed. As she watched her elves forced to fall back from one line to the next trying to defend the forest, she knew hard choices would have to be made.

  Elsewhere other gods were finding themselves in bad times with no friends to speak of. As their behavior during their times of plenty had not endeared them to anyone. So now in these dark times they found themselves alone and wondering what deals they would have to make to get out of the hole they had unknowingly dug for themselves.

  The god Macala, god of the Camela, was sitting on his throne and spitting repeatedly in a bowl that never overflowed. His constant spitting is a sign of his anger and nerves. "I was so close. So close!" Macala said in rage and desperation in between his spitting. His reverse of fortune prevented him from getting what he desired so greatly as it was in his very hands.

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  Macala, god of the Camela, has been planning to expand his domain realm. He had been trying to add trading to his domain. This would not only increase his power but also the range of abilities he would have. He would have gained said domain once the desert of Satash had been named Camela by the people of the world, who would have recognized it as a trading hub. That was not going to happen, as the sudden resurgence of Eorap and their massive raid were stopping all of his trade caravans running through the desert.

  It wouldn't be so bad if his earlier choices weren't now coming to bite him. The Camela race's ability to thrive in the desert had caused him to push for full control of it. So they had pushed out any possible competition with any method that worked. Several of which were rather underhanded. So he wasn't exactly popular with the other desert gods or those that they represented. This was a bit of a problem, as he now needed their help to counter the Eorap raids.

  Now Macala had a question he was forced to ask himself. What was he willing to give up to keep what he had? It looked like that would have to be the future he had wanted. The thought caused him to give a rather vicious spit into the bottomless bowl. Though it was what needed to be done. So Macala spit far slower as he thought over who could still be bargained with despite the previous actions taken.

  In another place a god found himself in trouble with his fellows. For he had been given a task and had done so for over 700 years. Though they did not care, as is often the case, all the earlier success meant nothing before the great failure. There would be punishment, he knew, though how bad it would be he did not know, and he feared just how great a punishment he may now face.

  Cashish, the fishing god of the sea of Carsisus, found himself nervously fishing within his little realm. He was fishing on a little pier, his rod held tight and his body tense. His mind was turning over and over again just how bad things had gone so suddenly. Once again his fortune had reversed, but in the opposite way he would have wanted to.

  The truth was that Cashish had been a minor god in the grand scheme of things, just going along with whatever the more powerful sea gods of the ocean he called home wanted. That had all changed with the defeat of the Arawak. When they fell from grace, he had risen as the others had decided he would make sure they didn't rise again.

  It was he who was the fishing god, so they had him fish the crab monsters when they were young so they didn't become big enough to cause a problem. Which had worked for hundreds of years without a problem. Now though, the Arowac had found a workaround, and swarms of Arowac that shouldn't exist were tearing through their sea.

  So he was fishing, trying to calm himself as he wondered when one of the bigger fish or the court would come over asking some rather pointed questions about how any of this was happening. Though he had another fear that was digging deep into him. The fear of all fishermen is that one tragedy that they all risked.

  Was he about to find himself caught instead? Was the time coming that he would cast his line only to be dragged under by something on the other end of his line? This terrified him and made him want to stop casting his line, but he couldn't because it was what he was, and so he continued fishing, trying to stay ready for the big one that came for his hook.

  So it was that the world turned and a shift in natural orders occurred. All because one would have been found and thrown into a forest of fey. Showing that time made fools of all gods and mortals alike.

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