The War of Gods

Chapter 1 - Part 1

"Again?!" complained Jordan from the serving booth.

Lunch was an oatmeal bowl with whole grain for the third day in a row. They had been walking for a week across the Korfezian countryside for some kind of surprise operation. Probably just another endurance drill. They sure loved those on this side of the continent, for reasons Nerith could not understand.

The countries of Patrax had been at peace for nearly three hundred years and neither Kor or Korfez had been actively helping in the War in the West or the Divide, so their large military numbers made little to no sense. Regardless, this is where she was assigned, so it was not her place to complain. She sighed and brought a spoon of oatmeal to her mouth. She only had to go through another six months of this anyway.

"Can you lot believe this?" Jordan said as he sat aggressively in front of her. "It's like they want us to starve."

"You're exaggerating, again," Mavar answered with an exasperated sigh. He arrived at the table and sat next to Nerith. He wore his usual dark cloak with the hood up. The cloak itself was well kept but there was this persistent awful stench of rot coming from it. When they first met, Nerith told herself she would get used to it eventually. And she still believed that... most days.

"I quite like this actually," that was Joel, next to Jordan. "Those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones." He liked to speak in proverbs. A lot. She almost forgot he was there. It astonished her how Gnomes could be so small. Well, most people were astonished by how tall she was anyways, even without the extra bits.

"You know," Jordan continued. "I thought foreigners would be a bit harsher with Korfez, but I haven't heard any of you complain over the last 3 months."

"A job is a job," Joel said.

"You can still complain. I mean, didn't you live in lush forests before this? How are yellow grain fields any better?"

"The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence."

"You, my tiny friend, are hopeless. And Mavar is from the Underpass! That place is legendary!"

"Not from the Underpass," quickly added Mavar, not looking up from his bowl.

"But you're a drow."

"Not from the Underpass."

Odd one, that one is.

Jordan paused for a moment, but brushed it off and continued. "What about you, Nerith? Tieflings are literally the children of the Gods. And you're all wicked smart." Nerith tried not to smirk at the comment. She knew Jordan meant it as a fact, not a compliment. "You can't tell me you like it here amongst the humans."

"That's what your religion believes," Nerith answered. "There was a time where we were considered monsters. Guess I was chosen to carry the burden of my ancestors."

The table went quiet.

Right. She forgot. The comment was made as an offhand joke, but these things often made strangers uncomfortable. "What?" Nerith chuckled, defiantly but trying to appear nonchalant. "Too much?" Nerith said, defiantly but trying to appear nonchalant.

When the rest of the table remained quiet and uncomfortable, she let out a quiet sigh, rolled her eyes and kept eating her food.

To her surprise, Jordan eventually broke the silence. "You know, I always wanted to ask about that."

Nerith froze. She had hoped he wouldn't. She braced for the questions as Jordan eagerly leaned forward.

"Recruits," bellowed their captain from outside. "Dinner time is over. All bodies on the Courtyard, now."

Right on time.