The massive pyramid at the cities center dominated the landscape, from the city gates it had to be over forty thousand paces from where he stood and he could still make out the decorative artwork. Crows of onyx were inlayed on every block ascending to a larger than life triangular onyx tip. Fires burned everywhere in large metallic bowls. Even where not visible you could accurately place their position by the smoke rising above the roofs of block houses.  The houses surrounded the dominating structure in symmetrical circles evenly spaced between rings of farmland.

 Ruesello walked the main road with his head on a swivel. Small smooth stones crunched beneath his feet with the texture of glass balls. The city of the Sovron’s was impressive to say the least, legendary to say the most.

“So this is he, this is our new God.”

Ruesello turned his head to face the direction of the deep voice. His procession had stopped before a large crowd. His priestess Ladonya spoke.  The crowd parted allowing the small party passage.

“Yes your reverence, Jombyyl is no more. Our new God has made the trek from the arena, in nothing but the robe of his mother. He has borne his flesh to Mother Woe and he has shed his blood to the sand. He has honored our customs without complaint or tears. He is legitimate.

 A bare chested man with pitted and pockmarked skin stood directly ahead wearing a bronze expressionless mask standing atop a half pyramid. He looked down on them, eyes locking Ruesello

 “Mmmmhuh, and who substantiates this claim.”

 An awkward pause preceded the high priest’s words as he searched Rusello’s small party with skeptical eyes.

“I do your reverence.”

The buxom goddess shrugged free from her robe letting it fall disheveled at her feet. She wore not a stitch of clothing beneath, baring milky flesh that looked as if never kissed by the sun. A quiet murmur went through the crowd, a single name resonated, on every set of lips Simornna.

“Goddess of fertility to what do we owe the pleasure? ” The old priest clearly was not one of Simmorna's flock. His quick words telling of his tiresome attitude towards her antics. He would never have the spine to voice it directly.

She turned to face Ruesello eyeing him. "So you are the one that killed Jombyyl." Everything that made her arousing jiggled as she took steps toward him. She grasped his hand in hers bidding him to sit. "He was dear to me and beloved by his people. You have quite the task ahead." One of the hand maidens was on the ground, down on all fours serving as a bench. The other shrugged free from the confining robe, coming to stand beside her mistress, holding a small wash basin in her left palm. Simorrna squeezed the wash cloth. Water trickled like dew drops sparkling along the curves and contours of her flesh. She dropped to her knees taking Ruesello’s battered foot in her hand gingerly wiping away the grime and gore. The Goddesses smile was coy "So tell me young God are you prepared for a campaign of blood, to kill all those whom oppose your will?"