At this point in time, the Nothera thought that the man had gone mad and stayed well away from his house, even when they were supposed to collect his tax. They weren't risking the Arak's rage, he made their armor after all
Enki continued this behavior for hours, rampaging across his house in rage, though not making a mess of the place, that's simply taboo! In actuality, he made his rounds around the house, yelling angrily to the heavens in the small Polorc house. Makosh, his dog, had stayed far away from him, instead staying closer to Ellaja, Enki's Helocanc. The man was on his thrift, throughout the week he only grew angrier and angrier, until it stopped. Suddenly, one morning, he simply did not have the adrenaline to gain his status as an angry old man, blaming the world for his problems instead of looking into the mirror. No, he now saw what he had done, the orc was horrified, how could he live with himself?
He sat in contemplation for many days, he had gone against the Call, he succumbed to his Thrift. The gods have punished him for it, oh have they punished him. His business was in shambles, he was just barely able to pay his employees, leaving himself with a thinning paygrade. People came to have Enki make their tools and armor, he had a reputation, without him there, his business suffered. Enki had lost his honor, he had lost his closest ally, and he would lose his business if he didn't act swiftly. For the first time in a week, Enki made his way out of the house, with shaking legs, he stumbled up the stairs of the Polorc Temple. It was as if the gods had made his legs heavy, his heart too. He trembled before the great statue of Yazgar, Enki knew that he deserved the full wrath of the raptorian goddess. He turned to his left, seeing the benevolent statue of the goddess Makosh, he prostrated himself before her, weeping and begging for forgiveness like a child.
His prayers did not go unanswered, four hours after his begging, the orc went to his home and fell asleep.
There, the orc dreamed, first he dreamed that he was running through the forest- yes running. That wasn't something he'd felt in a while, looking down he realized that there was no prosthetic, only leg. The orc was overjoyed— that is to say before he heard the squawk of a bird and then the cracking and breaking of timber. He then heard psychotic laughter, one of evil origin that Enki knew all too well; the Clickers were coming. The Arak immediately broke into a dead sprint into the forest, the Clickers yelled vile abuse at him, the likes of which cannot be repeated. Soon the flapping of giant wings resonated throughout the forest, as if a giant bird was chasing alongside the Clickers. This horrified Enki, he knew exactly what this avian beast was; the goddess Yazgar. Distracted by his own thoughts on how overwhelmingly fucked he was, he tripped on a branch, spirally out onto the muddy ground.
The orc looked up, awaiting his fate as a Clicker looked down at him from a tree, laughing hysterically. Enki braced himself, as he did the beast let out a mighty roar before leaping toward the orc! And that would have been it too, if not for a fifteen foot spear that found itself imbedded in the beast's body before he hit the ground, pinning it to a large tree close to the orc. In one foul swoop, something, someone, had killed a clicker faster than any man. An angry roar was heard, not one of the clickers, oh no, this was an orc, and it shook the Araks bones. Out of the brush came a twelve foot tall hulking beast of an orc, his mohawk dyed a striking red. He grumbled in the face of the hordes of clickers coming at him, doing nothing more than readying his spear in face of what would be certain death for any normal orc. This was no normal orc though, this was Vakgar, and he was fighting a battle Enki was all too familiar with.
Following the orken deity came a woman of around the same height, twelve feet if not a little smaller. She held a shield in her hand and by orken standards, she was strikingly beautiful, at least to Enki. She held her shield firmly in front of him, readying her own spear toward the beast but obviously more ready to defend while Vakgar was more ready to attack. This was Makosh.
"Remember this, even when you have fallen I will always protect you and he will always pave the road for your future."
Makosh said to Enki, the Arak himself was flabbergasted, he didn't know what to say, he reached out to touch the goddess, hoping that by doing so he would lend her his strength. But something prevented him from doing so, as he reached out, tattoos spread across his arms, depicting the clicker crisis and what he had to go through during them, but he was just far enough away not to touch the goddess, no matter what he did. He then looked toward the god Vakgar, throwing around Clickers effortlessly as if they were toys and he was a rampaging toddler. Nothing survived, they all turned to dust as soon as the spear even touched them, it was that insanely powerful. It would almost be amusing, that is if Enki was batshit terrified at the moment.
"I have been dishonorable, the Rakhon disgraced me, I succumbed to the Thrift. I am a failure."
Enki said, looking away from the deities as he believed himself not worthy to look upon them. They were perfect immortal beings, he was just a man, a very flawed man at that. How could he ever compare to them? They were everything that he ever wanted to be, to see them here was almost taunting to him, reminding him of his failure. The goddess shook her head, a troubled looked appearing on her face as she turned to the comparatively small Arak, allowing a small smirk to show through her serious form.
"You forget my teachings, no one is past forgiveness, not even those who succumbed to their thrift or were disgraced by their Rakhon."
She said with finality in her words, suddenly, a horrible shriek rose throughout the forest, one that made Enki shake with terror. A giant eagle smashed through the canopy, no tree stood a chance, no life was present during her arrival. Vakgar's form broke, he then proceeded to swear profusely in Vashnolor before running off into the forest, Makosh followed. Though before they left, Vakgar touched the top of Enki's head as he passed, and with that the Arak woke up, sweating and breathing heavily in his comfortable bed.
He was shaken, but almost in a good way as that dream had given him the confidence he needed to continue. He sat upright on the bed, contemplating for a brief moment what next to do, he had been given a vision by the gods. This was his reasoning of course, he was not done yet, they wanted to keep him around for some reason and anger was prohibiting that. No longer, he told himself, letting out a heavy sigh as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest. He looked down to find pulsating tattoos on his arms, it was a Pagan mutation, he knew that much. He must have accidentally summoned it in his sleep, though it did show the Clicker Crisis and the orc's role in such. The Arak shrugged it off, wiping the sweat off his forehead before grabbing his hammer.
