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Whetted Bronze

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Odan stared up, as the cloud grew, black and massed, while the lightning struck and the thunder rolled. Staring, Odan saw the long radiant arms of fire reaching out’ across the heavens. He knew this vision was his alone; this was not visible from proud Eresh over the horizon.

“Come, you great god!” he bellowed. “Let me see you and your chariot of fire I”

He was mad. He was quite mad by this time. He must be insane, thus to stand, head jutting, glaring up as a god descended in fire and glory from the heavens.

 In a great burst of maniacal frenzy he had conjured a god. And a god had answered his call and his challenge.

“I am Odan and I am of Eresh! Show me your attributes, show me your face, if you dare! For I am Odan the Khuzuk and my father is a god—is a god!”

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