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<h1>WELCOME TO THE GLORIOUS RUINATIONS OF WAR</h1><h4><i>"Where for the God's, blood is demanded to be paid in blood"</i></h4>

<hr>

<br>
<p><br><h4>THE GOD'S ARE DEAD.<br>OR SO THEY SEEM.</h4>

<br>

<p><h7>M</h7>

any can’t remember the last time they spoke or glimpsed one — or even felt their influence taint the world. Mount Olympus was unavailable to mortals, and their silence seemed almost deafening. It has been a decade since they were last sighted, and not even the smallest hint of their divinity remains. The awe-worthy flash during a thunderstorm that could only belong to Zeus stopped appearing. The fields of grain Demeter tended to in environments in which nothing dared to grow without her influence became barren. The unlikely tales of star-crossed lovers guided to one another by the hand of Aphrodite had much less happy endings without her assistance. The blacksmiths who forged magnificent creations advised by Hephaestus saw their hearths grow cold. Even the madness and ecstasy associated with Dionysus at revels died out without even a whimper.
</h2>

<br>
<p><br><h4>THEY WERE GONE.</h4>

<br>

<p><h7>T</h7>

heir demigod offspring dreaded the consequences of their absence. Were they dead? If they had been murdered — that meant there was something or someone out there with the ability to kill the unkillable. And this meant that they who had done so had yet to show their hand; for those who overthrew a dynasty often replaced it with their own reign — and they knew that there was nothing they could do against that kind of power. Or perhaps if there was not a god killing creature out there, had their divine essence simply run out? Their lifespan had always seemed infinite, but maybe if mortals stopped believing; stopped feeding them with that same belief, was that to be their end? But most importantly, what would happen to the demigods if that had been the case?

</h2>

<br>
<p><br><h4>BUT WHAT IF THEY <br>WEREN'T DEAD AT ALL?</h4>

<br>

<p><h7>T</h7>

hat alternative was a much harsher thought. If the Gods were still alive, it meant they were ignoring their halfblood children, it meant they were ignoring the pleas and prayers from everyone in need of their help — and without any apparent cause in sight, many suspected their motives to be selfish. Maybe they had grown tired of tending to this world and decided to spend the rest of their immortal life clustered away. <i>Let the mortals fend for themselves, and the children they had spawned with humans.</i> After all, not one being would not have lived long enough for them to remember in their endless existence. Or perhaps they were planning to overthrow the world of mortals and have themselves be worshipped again like in the old days. After all — ones still devoted to their faith were sparse and rare to find.

<p>No one had even a clue to what had happened, for why they had been left alone, and how they were supposed to move on without them. The world grew colder too, without the God's protection. Anyone who had once harbored a grudge against the immortal deities and their mortal children stepped out of the shadows. Some seeked vengeance, taking eons old grudges out on those left behind without their godly parents to protect them. Others because they were hungry for more power. A throne had been left behind, and whoever managed to take it up would rule the world. There was no one left with enough ability to defend it, anyway.

<br>
<p><br><h4><i>The world became a playground — a rule where only the strongest survived, and the weaklings were left to feed on.</i></h4>

<br>

<p><h7>N</h7>

<p>ow left to fend for themselves, parentage reveals were the only sign of life from the Gods their demigod offspring received. A spectacular display that happened ever so rarely when new children were brought into camp, and only reserved solely for those deemed worthy enough by the Gods to show their hand for. Most were ignored, left to determine their own ancestry, or forever remaining without a godly parent to call their own, only knowing that divinity flowed through their veins. Satyrs bringing in campers started making it a point of pride amongst themselves whenever they brought in children that were claimed, jealousy flowing rampant amongst the unclaimed. But this envy was something they had to put aside if they wanted to survive.

<p>The one safe haven left in a world that grew crueler by the day, the camp promised them the training they needed to live outside of it — ways to learn control over their abilities, and practice for every monster they could possibly face. Though most of all, the camp offered them a <b>home</b> in a world they only half belonged in. And for years, that was enough. The outside was cruel without the protection of their Gods, so Chiron kept the borders open for any demigod wanting to stay there past adulthood, offering them positions and mentor roles once they were done learning. They made due the best they could, creating a small spot of happiness in a world filled with creatures that wanted nothing but to have them dead. They might have been abandoned by their parents, but their own bonds held steady.

<p>Of course, discord still slipped its way into those bonds, as it does anywhere. Some believed the major deities of the pantheon were angry that the camp they had set up as a way to root out only their strongest mortal champions was tainted by the children of lesser Gods. Others argued that there must be demigods working with them on some sort of diabolical plan. With each day of silence, tension grew — but despite this they kept pushing through, resolving issues best they could. You only have each other now, Chiron argued, you have to work together. And they listened, because he too had been abandoned and still remained there for them. They listened, because the alternative was much too dangerous.

</h2>

<br>
<p><br><h4><i>Little did they know the darkness that had lurked for so long beneath the surface; the malicious intent that finally was made evident upon the 24th of March, 1959.</i></h4>

<br>

<p><h7>F</h7>

our broken bodies, propped up in the heart of the camp like dolls, there for anyone to see. Someone called out a name and fell on their knees beside one of them, as they witnessed the crimson that stained the ground and anyone who came close — ever so much crimson. After further inspection, the bodies were identified as campers. A child of <i>Hades</i>, with little more than a torso left, the remaining limbs spread around the site. A child of <i>Nemesis</i>, who could only be identified by the bracelet they were wearing — as everything else had been burned off. A child of <i>Aeolus</i>, whose face was still set in terror, framed by the thousands of cuts all over their body. And a child of <i>Iris</i>, of which the damage could only be determined after the autopsy had been performed — with the discovery that their organs had been liquified.

<p>Only two clues to the perpetrator were found, the sigils of each of the twelve Olympians burned into the ground they were found on, and a sentence in Ancient Greek, of which each part had been carved into a chest. <b>'We will cleanse the world of these lesser godly children, and remake it in honor of the pantheon.'</b> The message was clear enough, and anyone who was not descended from one of the twelve Olympians suddenly had a target on their backs.

<p>Incensed and enraged, the camp split in half, despite the best efforts of Chiron. Children of the so-called lesser Gods banded together, fear, anger and comradery fuelling them. The other campers had stood by and let their innocent brothers and sisters be tortured and killed, allowing for them to be debased and propped up for everyone to see. The children of Olympians banded together too; most claiming innocence, but others, those who held the same sentiments as the murderers, began to sow the seeds of chaos. The divide ripped apart friendships, alliances, even romances. It was only further fuelled by the sudden spike in godly activity with a sudden arrival of blessings from parents in the form of power, weapons, or wisdom on each side, with more children suddenly claimed so that they could no longer claim neutrality. And whilst they should’ve been joyous about this sign of life, the Gods did not return in full, and some began whispering the traitorous words. Not until one of their sides defeated the other would they be back; not until the blood of the murderers paid for the blood of the victims — not until their war had been won would the Gods return to defend the world.

<p>With this, more deaths continued to follow on either side of the conflict, and the once peaceful camp, a place that was once a safe haven for all of them, descended into complete and utter chaos.

<br>
<p><br><h4>IT WAS ALL LEFT IN RUINS.</h4>

<br>

<p><h7>T</h7>

he children of minor Gods sided together under the banner of Hades, calling themselves the Insurgents, and setting up their base in the Hamptons. Wounded and distraught by the innocent deaths of those they loved and cared for, and enraged by the message that had been carved into their bodies against them, they decided that if they wanted a war — they would have one. Each and every one of them had power, and they would show them that lesser Gods were just as capable of winning a war.

<p>The children of the pantheon Gods sided under the shared banner of Zeus and Poseidon, calling themselves Children of the Olympians, and setting up base in Martha’s Vineyard. Their cause by itself was fractured too, with some siding only with them because they believed in their own innocence, and the belief that the revenge taken by the Insurgents had gone a step too far. Others wholeheartedly believed in the message carved into those chests and that only by cleansing the world of the children of lesser Gods would they have their parents immortal protection again.

<p>Small skirmishes against each side began to happen on a minute scale, but each army knew that they had to inevitably prepare themselves for a larger conflict —  to compose themselves for a war that would only have one side left standing as the ultimate victor in the end.

<br>
<p><br><h4><i>"It will have blood, they say. Blood will have blood."</i></h4>

<br>

<p><h7>Y</h7>

<p>et whilst they prepare for their inevitable confrontation, something darker brews in the shadows. A world without Gods to protect it, and with demigod offspring kept distracted in their own little feud, is left vulnerable for the taking of anyone with enough strength to do so. They have been hungry for a long time, waiting for the day this moment would occur, waiting for the day they could step out and create an era of horror. Things that were long thought dead rise from their graves, more of them every day. They seek to rule, they seek to create an era where they are the ones creating the order. Where darkness thrives, and light is snuffed out as easy as a candle. With no one opposing them, no one standing in their way, now is the time to make their grasp for power, especially whilst they are managing to keep the halfbloods busy in their own games.

<br>
<p><br><h4>THE AGE OF GODS <br>AND MORTALS WILL END, <br>AND <i>THEY</i> WILL RISE.</h4>

<br>

<p><h7>D</h7>

<p>anger lurks in every corner. Friends have turned into foes and foes have become friends. Conflict brews beneath every surface. There are no Gods to protect them now. The old world is dying, and the new world is struggling to be born.

<br>
<p><br><h4>NOW IS THE TIME <br>FOR MONSTERS.</h4>

<br>


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