Boomer

While it was his nickname, it was one that suited the member of the Calvert Clan, a collection of families that were largely located in a few areas of the county and surrounding townships. Yes, only some of the branches had younger children, but given all that was happening of late he suspected that could be changing. Because between the upheavals and the chaos, not to mention the civil strife and brewing war? Baby booms were going to be coming, in part as women sought to have reasons to avoid being drafted into combat and partially as people coming back from the violence celebrated.

Of course, there was just one little thing. A small one, but it needed to be considered as he pondered his younger kinsman... who was now towering over them all on a literal throne of rock and trees called from the earth and shaped to his will, a display of magic that was beyond a lot of what had been accomplished so far. Not only did he shatter the army from the city (as it turns out, when a massive stone hammer stuck a twenty by twenty foot area in rapid succession? That had an impact), conjuring small elementals to do his bidding with each strike, but he almost casually swatted aside any who sought to regroup.

By trampling them under his monstrous bulk. And now, with the battle won, he merely loomed over things like the statue of some great and grim god. Fitting in some ways that the elf from before was joined by others, seemingly groupies less fanatical than she was. Really, knowing Matt, he was likely doing his best to ignore it. But, as he took a breath, there was something changing in the air, a sense of mystery and transition that was almost electrical on the tongue.

It was a heady perfume, rich and sweet. It was power. A second awakening on the cusp of happening, or maybe, as he considered things, it was like the aftershocks of an earthquake? No real way to tell, as the other side came to formalize their defeat, resentment in their eyes. Resentment, and hunger, directed towards the titan of wood and stone.

The Reemergence of the Divine, A Modern Perspective

While it is commonly acknowledged that the sleeping ages had little to no true magic or divinity of their own, the awakening changed and challenged all assumptions. And yet, there was one particular branch of those awakened who would go on to cause even greater chaos and disruptions in the years to come. Outsiders, those whose nature is of belief and thought, beings more of concepts than flesh and blood, awoke at the same time as all others, and yet they had something that few could imagine.

As beings of faith and concepts, they could gather it from others, harvesting it and using it to empower themselves as they in turn empowered and strengthened those that directed this faith towards them. Of course, not every outsider could do this, and it was not something that occurred in each and every Outsider. Firstly, they had to not be tied directly to the material world, not being Native Outsiders (despite the fact that they had in fact, awakened here). Secondly, they had to possess a certain amount of power, a mundane might to act as a foundation for their spiritual growth. Third, and this is were most faltered, they had to be able to attract and keep a body of people willing to venerate them.

Many of the Angels, Demons, Devils and other awoken outsiders would never actually amount to more than mere servitors, spirits that were soldiers, consorts, advisors and minions, even as a few managed to claim divine authority, becoming the leaders of the new factions that battled others of their own moral and ethical groupings as much for reasons of ideological purity and dominance as belief in the causes they claimed. Several dozen claimed to be either emissaries or returning versions of a god.

There were no less thirty eight claiming to be Jesus Christ and twenty two claiming to be the prophet Muhammad. Of the former, only six did NOT claim to be returned to crusade against the dark, but bring peace. Of the later? The first they demanded of their followers was to purify the areas they dwelled in, slaughtering any who refused to convert. When combined with the rising tide of those that claimed to be descended from the various polytheistic religions before the rise of the Abrahamic faiths, it is no surprise that the resulting conflicts spiraled out of hand, the vast majority of sides viewing compromise as poison.

There exists some evidence that a sufficiently powerful outsider would not require external faith to empower themselves. However, given that all who awoke did so in a sword age, in an age of war and heroes, where the victorious became celebrities? We will never know for sure.

Additionally, there must be a discussion when it comes to practitioners of Divine Magic. While Druids, Rangers and Witches were by and large able to simply rely on a connection to nature itself to learn and use their magic, other divine spellcasters needed to have a patron. To be sure, one could in fact merely rely on the strength of their faith in a cause, in a ideology. However, those able to maintain that sort of devotion and belief in an abstract cause or belief without a middle man are rarely even able to cast spells of the first circle.

And to be sure, there are those clerics who can cast powerful ninth circle spells from the sheer force of their belief and conviction, but these paragons of faith tend to be singular and near mythical examples in and of their own right. In many ways, those so devoted are less fellow sapients and more living extensions of the ideology/cause that they champion.

Which is one reason why many of those who awoke and chose to become divine casters were drawn into the early cults. For many of them were doctors and nurses, healers who wished for the power to reduce the suffering in the world and wept when they could not.

Rosebloom

She cried out in pleasure as the giant form of her lord and master slammed into her once more. Yes, she did feel a sort of regret that he had flatly refused to even consider the idea of trying to fuck her in his true and glorious size, but in his words, "I could literally just shove you down into my cock and balls, the size difference is THAT extreme."

Which did not actually stop her sex from gushing. Or even just the idea that she could just hug a dick almost three times taller than she was, massaging it with her body. But, given the tribute she was presenting to him, in the form of all of the other girls from her dorm from Lakehead University? At how he had considered things, before he bound them in place with shackles of living wood, their ankles by their ears as massive hands gripped them tight?

Her master was enjoying them, body heaving and slapping, hands moving and lips caressing and kissing, nibbling and teasing as he explored and filled their depths, as he slammed into them and seeded them. There was tenderness, there was brute savagery, there was hunger and need and power as he took what was HIS. Including her. How could she be anything else? She lost track of time, as things faded, the grotto maintaining a stable temperature, food and water provided as they were all in a daze of need and lust and magic.

Time did not seem to pass, except when he was there, when he was taking them, as screams and moans filled the air. As they bounced and rode and were fucked and used and kissed and hugged. When the haze lifted and they were freed? Oh, how she pouted most fiercely! No matter that her belly was swelling with child even as her lord seemed to be growing with power himself. No, what mattered, as she made her demands for being free known?

Was that she was getting to rub wood varnish on those muscles and balls ~