Information

Bare has a minion!

Arbiter the Eaglet

Bare
Legacy Name: Bare

The

Custom Reborn Neela
Owner:

Tribe

Age: 15 years, 5 days

Born: May 1st, 2009

Adopted: 1 year, 7 months, 1 week ago

Adopted: September 25th, 2022

Pet Spotlight Winner
January 10th

Statistics

Level: 238
Strength: 592
Defense: 592
Speed: 592
Health: 592
HP: 565/592
Intelligence: 252
Books Read: 248
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Topiary Tender

CREDITS

profile template (c)

helix (get it)
template edited by

Tribe,

spacemage,

Gyarbear
story by

Tribe
overlay by

Necolasa
Background courtesy of Unsplash user Macu ic
Adopted from

Balloon on 9/25/2022

The firebringer

The great Titan of Forethought, Prometheus, sculpted man from humble clay, beseeching the goddess Athena to breathe life into the figure made in the gods' likeness. Though his twin, Titan of Hindsight Epimethus, had spent every gift meant for his creations, Prometheus looked upon his creations with great sympathy.

He gave mankind whatever boons he could, seeds of sciences and arts. He would scheme and deceive as he must, temper whatever fury this emergent Olympian pantheon could muster.

Humanity reaped his gifts and, with them, thrived.

The Olympians sought to be exalted by humankind, to reap the rewards of plentiful offerings and sacrifices. Civilization, still burgeoning, struggled to meet their demands and appease their great appetites and conceit.

Silver-tongued, Prometheus flattered the king of the gods. "Zeus, you must have a discerning insight, indeed; Athena herself gains her great wisdom from you. In a wager, your divine acumen and prowess will bring you victory. I propose a simple one, one that determines what mankind ought to offer the great gods."

Zeus, ever haughty, agreed to his terms. "Good titan, you know my good love of a wager well; let us have this battle of wits.."

The Titan slew a sacrificial animal, splitting the yields; he draped decadent fats over pale bone, entrails over hearty meats and useful hides.

To mighty Zeus, he declares: "Look upon these, but dare not touch. Choose one of these piles; man will offer these yields to the Olympians with each sacrifice."

The Olympian god paced before the options, scrutinizing them for a short time before pointing to the portion covered in fat. "This, this would be best as a sacrifice," he declared. "The gods could glut and make merry with such rich fare!"

Prometheus unveiled the true nature of offerings, to the abject dismay of Zeus.

"A cruel trick!" Zeus fumed, furious; even so, he remained bound by the terms of the wager. "Do not believe yourself vindicated; this cannot go unpunished."

In retaliation, Zeus forbid mankind from using fire; he declared that humans must remember the gods' might, that they should dare not challenge or trick them in such a blatant, foolish manner.

It was a paltry pretext for condemning Prometheus to watch his creations suffer.

He saw man fumble about in inhospitable conditions, witnessed their pitiful manner about the world. They toiled and endured, playthings to the harsh elements.

He would do what it took to save mankind.

He would steal fire.

Olympians be damned.

He snuck into the gods' forge, deigning to take a hot coal from Hephaestus's fires. He hid the embers in a slender stalk of fennel, ferrying it to the human settlements down below.

His illicit act would not be secret forever.

Tendrils of smoke rose into the sky; it was only a matter of time before it caught the attention of the gods.

"Do you have any defense for your heinous theft?" The king of the Olympians sits atop a great throne, basking in the grandeur of his residence; his voice, thunderously resounding, booms throughout the hall. "You dare act so directly in defiance, violate my sacred decree?"

Refusing to answer to his crime, Prometheus spat at the god’s feet. "Your pompous nature will be your undoing. As you unseated your own father, one of your own children will topple you."

Zeus, incensed, cast him to the far wilderness, commanding his servants to bind the Titan to a great boulder with unbreaking chains.

His freedom would be conditional, secured in one of two ways:

The simpler would be giving up the name of the mother who would, one day, birth the child destined to challenge and dethrone Zeus.

The more difficult process demanded that an immortal sacrifice themselves for him, then a mortal hero slaying the divine eagle and undoing his chains.

... Prometheus, assured in his foresight, kept his silence.

He knows that Zeus’s obsession with power undoes him, that a name would not be enough to quell the paranoia in his heart--the god would strike to do the unthinkable, ruled by his fear.

A secret, one as tantalizing as this, already cuts deep enough, so sweetly poisonous in its mystery.

The Titan lay bare, shackled to the stone.

The sun ever turns, cycles of dusk and dawn cast over the landscape; day after day, he braces for the renewing hell of his punishment.

The eagle descends, its cry ringing high and true, to glut itself on his liver.

The ichor splatters onto stone, steaming in the sun.

He screams high and loud: pained, desperate cries of a tested resolve.