Dimensional Descent

Elthor slowly picked himself up, shaking his head. He was getting really tired of having to get into all of these fights, not because he hated fighting, but because he always had to hold back.

The ones he could kill, he couldn't kill. As for the ones he couldn't kill even if he tried, those were even more agonizing. Did they get off from beating a kid like him? Just because your wife was giving me googly eyes, doesn't mean I touched her! Shouldn't you blame yourself for her eyes wandering?!

Elthor looked up and glared at the gorilla sized bastard he had just knocked out. His fists were really too itchy at this point.

At that moment, though, Elthor's pupils suddenly constricted. His head snapped up to the skies, his eyes narrowing.

'This is… Most definitely not part of the plan…' Elthor mumbled to himself.

…

The Oryx community, despite their advancements toward the importance of the mind in conjunction with the body, was still quite primitive. Their sanitation wasn't the best, their roads were still paved of dirt, their homes were simple constructs of wood, mud and dried grass… They were ultimately still living in a time countless centuries behind everyone else.

One of the tasks Elthor was left with by Leonel was to improve this. However, the method in which he did so was also important.

construction worker. He couldn't just roll up his sleeves and get to shoveling. As shallow as that sounded, the

As feel good as it sounded for a leader to get in the dirt and weeds

had to shake off the label of commoner or poverty first, history would tell you how difficult that would

present his ideas through legislation. It was much slower this way, but it also gave him the

just that

fallout of those he would have to

a King in his life. And yet, in order to become

all of this, at least not

diplomatic relations with any others. However,

two possible explanations for this: It was either a declaration of war, or it was just the

it became clear that it

it was the cleanest and most well established. It took up the center of the Tribe and though it wasn't made of precious materials, there was no denying the care that went into making it. At the very least, there was no dirt, mud or grime to be seen. There was nothing but well polished dark wood all

wasn't their well-built meeting room, but rather the group of diplomats

older man by the name of Raymundus, sat upon a wooden throne. Though his eyes were murky and his hair was greyed, his back still sat straight and his breathing was steady. He both looked like he could keel over at any moment, but simultaneously burst with

of the Oryx and their momentum was stifling. No matter how