Dark Crow Rising

Coming around the thick, likely oak post, my eyes widen as golden light flashes. A towering figure huddles over a small chunk of abused, but holding-on iron. Though I can see him clearly, each thundering blow lights him up with a fine, electric outline. Short-lived volts arc across his skin, scorched harmlessly black by the never-ending process of blacksmithing by this god.

Thurnmourer, God of Thunder and Creation.

A solidly built hand grasps the white-hot item off of the anvil and dunks it into water. Steam blasts into the air and it rumbles as it all becomes a thundercloud at the mere touch of Ancient Thunder. It all starts again as the blackened limb places the cooled metal back onto the anvil. Bang after bang with sparks flying everywhere as the impurities are slammed out of the in-progress work.

"You will probably have to wait for him to finish if you want his attention. Once he starts working on something... Madman, even getting stabbed in the back won't stop him." Undwote lets out with what I can only recognise as awe. My mouth opens slightly just as a small jolt of the Thunder God's power arcs into my spectral saliva.

Jumping back away as the strong feeling almost burns me, Undwote urges me back. An invisible wall keeps the strength of the first god away and Undwote blows against the hot air. The breath of the freezing god clashes with the fires of the forge. But no mist comes of it, as if something has decreed it so.

From my newfound spot of safety, excitement suddenly explodes to life in me. It's him! He's right there! Thurnmourer, my craft-god!

Tanned almost black by settled soot and burnt air, very little seems to cover him. A welding-like mask hides his face and equally blackened gloves hide his hands and wrists. I am able to catch a slight glimpse of his hair, coloured like a rumbling sky full of storm clouds. On his front, a nearly recognisable apron of brown leather that has been sprinkled with now dry molten metal.

Curiously enough as well, and I am shocked that I have only just noticed it, but... My mind has tricked me, there is no hammer, everything that is being hammered. He's doing it by hand. The metal bends and screams as one fist of iron and the other of steel comes for it.

When the right one doesn't get it, the left one will. A baker of ores and alloys, making loaves of weapons and armour. Meals only for the God of War and snacks for the God of Cities and the Home. The Thunderous Blacksmith shuffles about again and returns to the trough of water.

With his power volting it an almost pure white, the water in the lengthy bin lashes out onto Thurnmourer's arm. Undwote smirks at me as my brain fizzles out trying to comprehend the sight. Light pings ring out in a well-woven pattern with all kinds of tings to compliment it. The kind of instrument only a god can play.

What is with this water, though? It wasn't doing that the last time Thurnmourer quenched the metal... Why is it lashing out for him now as if it is alive?

A pair of eyes and a mouth appears on the water.

"Hello, Und-Und-Undwote!" the water stammers as it slips off of the Thunder God, leaving him to go back to his work. The water then forms the naked likeness of a familiar, uncanny man. With nothing dangling, fortunately.

"Oceniater! Nice to see you are doing well, would have thought you would have been swimming off the ship." Undwote says to the now-revealed water god. They shake their head and fall apart, leaping for my once-turned arm. If it wasn't for Apahthein's power, I'd be panicking with vicious flicks of the hand as this living liquid continues to swallow me.

"No, no, no, no, no! Thurnmourer wanted my help making a piece of some machine he is building. As he was insistent on me doing it I assume he must be making a new species!" the thing on my arm explains as bubbles rise and pop from what seems to be his centre. With each pop, clearly spoken words come out.

"That will be interesting to see later then, I eagerly await him being done." Undwote muses as he tries to get a good angle on the Thunder God's in-progress work.

"Can you get off me, please?" I quickly go as I try to gently fling him off.

"No." a single large bubble comes out of the living water.

"Get off!" I say, raising my voice as my flicks pick up in force.

"I don't wan-"

"Off." Thurnmourer interjects as he stands up from his workplace, revealing just how much muscle his divine flesh holds together. That piece he was holding seems to be resting in the forge fires, going by the strange, spherical shadow. He claps his hands three times, each one growing with bombastic fervour. A head made of water turns back to the standing creator deity.

Oceniater complies immediately, taking all of his moisture with him.

Thurnmourer steps forward and takes my chin into his stained fingertips. Moving me from side to side, he lets out a 'hmmm' of thought. I breathe once and hard as his fingers leave my jawbone. It dislocates slightly and intentionally until I hear a click.

"Certainly a surprise, Thurnmourer, bored are we?" Undwote comments as he picks up his watery sibling to go and put him into a bucket.

"Human," Thurnmourer says blankly as he stares me in the eyes, he makes a confused noise, "I never made something like you?"

"Father took him from me before I could properly deal with him." the God of Death tells his electric brother.

"Useful." he remarks on the way back to getting back to whatever they were working on.

"Undwote!" a female voice cheerfully calls out with a hummed song mixed in with it. I blink as I try to figure out where she came from, a brief glance at her heels says I should've heard her...

"Clohniq." Undwote greets with a simple nod as I find myself suddenly wrapped in measuring tape. Nearly sliced and diced into spiritual chunks by the firm edges of the marked, yellow material.

"Undwote... You know you love me...?" the goddess asks cheekily as I am left stumbling about as the tape vanishes. Unfortunately for me, the last of it to go is right around my ankles.

"I do and no." he answers quickly and decisively as I turn to face the Goddess of Clothes. Just barely catching onto something to stop my fall.

"Aw..." she moans as she dances past me with a soft, white-gloved hand catching onto my mouth. Turning me around with her as she spins to a stop with a beaming smile.

With a beautiful, golden tan and a precisely cut set of bangs hiding the part of her face her wide-brimmed hat does not. Silver eyes sneak into view as a tune squirms about her mouth, she tips the black and cream hat back. But, oddly, unlike Undwote, her body is rather mature. Sraacdchammu and Thurnmourer are also not children...

Did Undwote lie earlier, or is he actually a child, is death young?

The gloved hand extends a finger to my nose, catching my attention, "Do you like my outfit?"

She swishes her short dress about, showing off her pantyhose-covered legs and the tops of her brown boots. It all seems to be quite well-woven but my opinion ends there. I guess at worst I am disappointed it is not hugging her body tighter? But, that would go against the obvious, light breezy feel this all seems to have.

"It has a lot of pockets?" I tell her, noting all the black-outlines on the cream dress. It's really all I have to say. I... I don't really have an opinion here, it's all a bit random.

"It does, doesn't it? It has room for all my tools and even a hidden sheath for my sw-" she starts off happily with before stopping.

Her posture becomes frantic and she rubs and tussles whatever she can.

"Wait a moment! That is all you have to say!? It has lots of pockets!?" she exclaims.

"Uh, y-" I start to say before she closes the gap, latching onto me in an almost intimate manner. Feeling the air going into her nostrils, she breaks away in but a moment.

"Ah HA! Apah! No wonder he is not falling head over heels in love with my clothes! You're interfering with his sweet, sweet mind filled with praise for me! APAH!" she blabbers before running to the stairs me and Undwote came down.

A thud breaks down here, past the noises of the blacksmith at work.

"OW!" the goddess yelps right after.

"You have... A very interesting family." I say in a somewhat withheld manner. What am I allowed to and not to say!?

The God of Death smirks, knowingly.

"I do, don't I?"