Worshipers are a funny thing. When word began circulating that my tattoos were not holy symbols but instead curses and profane, it became the common consensus that I took on the sins of the world and stood tall under the burden, my holy light burning even brighter for the strain.
I guess that is what I get for allowing housewives to worship me so thoroughly.
After clearing the area of all the fools holding it including the Sinister Triad and the Skritt, I established a holy city in the Brisban Wildlands with the help of the Molten Alliance. At first it was just a bunch of bro's out in the wilderness playing Metal louder than hell and drinking mead from the reservoir formed by the upturned Horn of Party Hardy, but pretty soon the Dredge wanted to get more of their friends and family out from under the Moletariat, so we went on another raid of Sorrow's Embrace and a few of the lesser Dredge settlements and got those mole-people out.
With that done the Charr wanted us to rally the broken remains of the Flame Legion and pretty soon Efram Greetsglory was my new High Priest and the rest of the Flame Legion finally under my thumb. Ironic considering he was the one who originally ruined my scheme to pass myself off as Baelfire and take control of the Flame Legion by pointing out that I was a tiny Norn to the other dipshits that bought my fast talk.
They could have just surrendered at the start and worshiped me as their new god, but I guess Yahweh had to smack the Jews around to get them goose stepping to the beat of his drum, so I am in good company.
Turns out that the world doesn't just ignore massive army movements and migrations like that so people learned of my new city and it turns out that I have a lot of worshippers among the Humans disenfranchised with the abandonment of their six gods and the shitty Centaur situation that I seem to turn around whenever I show up.
Then we have the Asura who have formed an anti-Elder Dragon megakrewe under Zojja that also migrated to my city to work on our world saving SCIENCE project.
Don't forget the hundreds of baby mama's lugging around little demigods that showed up looking for child support.
This place used to be a nonstop party. It used to be glorious.
It's still pretty glorious as we built the most advanced city in Tryia by fusing everything the Asura, Dredge, and Charr had accomplished along with my own guiding hand and aesthetic. Between Asuran Golems, Dredge Powersuits, Charr Vehicles and magic dialing everything up to eleven they had all the pieces for putting together a kick ass puzzle, and so I got into kingdom building… heavily.
I set about building my dream faction, and before I knew it the humans were seven feet tall and able to lift a horse before the application of an Archetype and magic gear. I was deep in experiments trying to figure out how to do the same to all the other races that paid me homage when the Pact called me up to lay the smack down on a newly awakened Elder Dragon, Mordremoth.
I shook off the SCIENCE induced stupor and looked out upon all I had built in the last year and a half and saw that it was good.
Out of heat fused stone and glorious metal and shining glass we fashioned a city of massive scale both vertically, horizontally, and underground. Every part of it bustled with activity and technology and magic, and not even the arrival of the Mordrem had caused a disruption in the action. Instead, the tide of Dragon Minions that should have flowed out of the deep Maguuma Jungle and across the Silverwastes broke upon the walls of my city and the glorious mechanized soldiers defending it.
People hadn't even seen the need to bother me about it until the Pact wanted to use my city as a staging area for their air assault into the heart of the jungle.
After all, why would my followers bother me about some upjumped plant people when they wield fire and metal better than any ever before them.
Mordremoth really stepped to the wrong gang when he dragged his cellar dweller ass up to these mean streets and the only thing keeping us from going full Sozin's Comet on their vegetable bods was the friendly relationship I'd had my people foster with the Itzel (Treefrog People), Nuhoch (giant bullfrog people), and Exalted (Diablo Style Angels made from Humans).
Our relationships with those three tribes enabled my people to not only move through and harvest the complex and dangerous jungle like the natives, but to survive even the harshest poisons and acids, to see through attempted stealth, as well as how to fight like the natives, and fight alongside the natives.
You'd think an army of bad mother fuckers wearing power armor, riding tanks and helicopters, throwing fire and lava and hot lead and sharp steel everywhere we go was the max level of awesome, but then you make those people hardened recon jungle raiders and even I felt the need to tip my metaphorical hat and thank them for their service.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"It's about time you left the lab." Kat smirked as she rested her warhammer over her shoulder and watched her turrets tearing the rabble level Mordrem enemies to shreds, but that smirk faded as she looked up at the Pact Airships charging towards their doom, "I hate this." she sighed.
The Sylvari are sleeper agents created by Mordremoth and they are currently on all the ships of the Pact. Even with many of them able to resist subservience to the dragon. Most could not. They'd bring the fleet down from the sky with their betrayal.
"We need this." I assured her as I wrapped my arms around her waist, "Rytlock will follow his sword through the Mists and free Balthazaar. We need Balthazaar freed and if I tried to do it myself I'd come up against the other five gods trying to stop me. One mortal moving through the Mists is beneath their notice. One god doing so, marching to their prison. No dice."
Balthazaar was the linchpin in my plan to ascend to the mastery of this world and cosmos. The diminished war god would successfully drain power from a bloodstone and three Elder Dragons to empower his divinity to wage war against his former pantheon.
My presence would imply changes to his course, but that won't happen. We share too many domains to become allies, making us rivals. And Balthazaar won't try to take on a god in his own city until his power is not only restored, but too great to contend with.
Too bad for him, I'd be stealing some shine from Caddock and the boys by slaying him myself while he tries to drain Kralkatorrik. With power on the top end in this world so easily transferable, Jack, Medusa, and I would ascend to true godhood upon devouring him, then finish the job on Kralkatorrik. Jormag and Primordus would handle each other, leaving me and my ascended lovers wielding our full powers as gods and the primordial powers of the dragons.
The war on the mists would be brief and bountiful, taking godhood for Wanda, Kat, and Linda as well as strengthening our own, at which point we'd activate Omadd's Machine, enter the Eternal Alchemy, and make the system our bitch with the subjugation machines I'd been making with Zojja for years.
Because fuck some arbitrary balance imposed by some omnipotent asshat. I do what I want.