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Good evening, gentlemen.

I trust you are all quite content with your meals and your seating? I would be most distressed if any of you were less than comfortable. I have a proposition for you, you see. And – oh, a moment, could you repeat that?

…

I take by that incomprehensible string of consonants you are pleased by your meal? Many thanks. It's tricky to find real virgins in this day and age – humans, honestly, you know how they are. I had to find some out-of-the-way little island where innocence is valued, and that's why this meeting was so delayed. But worth it for your company, dear Devourer! I assure you you are quite integral to this enterprise. Though please refrain from talking again, I don't want my ears to start bleeding. I'm fond of this cloak.

So are we all comfortable? Good. Now then. Before I begin, we had best thank Gallant for the use of his Hall, as I have none of my own. There he is, being his usual shiny golden self. Give him a wave, everyone. No, Harvest-Lord, I didn't mean that literally, but I am, as ever, awed by your enthusiasm. And – theft? No, no, I told you, your brother gave up his powers of his own free will, and I had little to do with it.

Do have some more wine.

Now then. My proposition.

I seek to steal the Sun.

I judge by your silence you are suitably awed. All well and good. Small ambitions for small men; and, this being a vast ambition indeed, who better suited to it than gods? And that is why you're here. I know this summoning is far from regular – generally we only meet when there's some manner of feud or boring thing like that, yes, Harvest-Lord, you can stop giving me those meaningful looks, I know you mean to declare challenge sooner or later, it can wait – but it is a matter of great importance. I have your best interests at heart.

… Gallant, I do believe that was a laugh. Delighted though I am to cause you merriment, I am in deadly earnest. Surely you have noticed that things are not as they used to be? We grow withered. Feeble. Weak. No, Harvest-Lord, that wasn't aimed at you specifically, you are doubtless as hale as ever – is that a new corn-crown? It's nice. Very leafy. Good colour on you. A moment, I'll refill your cup.

We grow weak. And there is cause for it. Those same humans that, over the centuries, have enticed and beguiled and frustrated and delighted us, those humans without whom immortality would be a lot less troubled and a good deal less interesting – those humans who are, in a way, our very purpose in life (though personally I think it would be fairer if we were theirs) now seem fit to end it. Our worshippers dwindle in number. Our powers grows weak. What we need, gentlemen – lady – is a way to capture their attention. To remind them that they have gods, and that their gods are watching, and that their gods are deserving of respect. Something big … And so we arrive at my original point. Stealing the Sun is startling in its audacity, but it would be simplicity itself in its execution – I have invited each of you here for a reason, you are all integral, all key. Night Lady, you wear the stars as your cloak; it would be a simple matter to slip through the fabric and lie in wait there, for the Sun to rise. Devourer, you are by far the strongest of any god I have seen, or … beast or entropic force or whatever it is you are. You could hold the Sun steady for the time we needed it to be – hold it back. I've found a nice little place in the mountains where we could keep it for a while, but we'd need your strength to hold it there. And Gallant, you – actually I don't have a reason for you, I just needed your Hall. Though I'm sure you'd be perfectly helpful. You could stand there and glint at us if you like. It would do wonders for morale. Oh, but – are you frowning? That won't do. God of Warriors and Nobility and Fiercely Furrowed Brows. It does not resonate well. No matter.

Madness? No, Gallant. No. It is a plan. Just because you don't have enough brain cells to count the number of brain cells you don't have doesn't mean the rest of us don't. What better way to shock the mortals into remembering those they used to pray to than stealing all their warmth and light away and leaving them to the darkness? They will remember us well enough then, when they have no one else.

Oh, dear. How perfectly hysterical. Well, no doubt he'll return soon enough. In any case, I wouldn't expect him to understand – he has no shortage of worshippers. Why, just the other day I was watching a war, as you do, and thousands of soldiers prayed that he would help them defeat their foul inhuman foes. Soldiers from both sides, mind. Don't tell him I told you that. He gets touchy about that sort of thing. So then. Are the rest of you with me, at least?

Thank you, gracious Lady. I am honoured that you would spare the time to listen, and more honoured still that you would spare the time to hear. Your help is appreciated more vastly than I can say. And thank you, Devourer, and – yes, there are more virgins where that one came from. Really, it's a lovely island. And will you two excuse me for a moment?

Harvest-Lord, I can't help but notice you said neither aye nor nay to my proposition. And that you are slumped beneath the table. Really, this is undignified. In Gallant the Golden's Shining Hall, no less. I mean, he won't harm you or anything, but he'll look at you in that way he has, you know, sadly, which is most likely worse. You are honestly supremely drunk, aren't you? You'd think a god of crops would be better able to hold their liquor. Mm. Well. Your blankly stupid stare has me suddenly and inexplicably compelled to confess. Yes, I tricked Vineyard Jack from his powers and stole them for myself. No, I had no reason except that I was bored. Yes, he's mortal now, and it's my fault that he is. And, no, in actual fact he's loving it. The other day he got a wrinkle and you would not believe his delight. There was an impromptu song-and-dance. Honestly. It was hilarious.

Harvest-Lord …? Oh, goodness, you seem to have passed out. We'll take your gracious acceptance of my apology as read, then, and I can go on with the business at hand. Many thanks. You are a wondrously forgiving individual. I'll be sure to recommend you to any budding agricultural societies I happen to meet.

Right then. Apologies for my absence, esteemed companions. One must be kind to one's friends even if they do make a fool of themselves after a little drink, haha. Where were we? Yes, that little place in the mountains. I made sure to find somewhere well away from any human settlement, but I'm no rock-god, and we don't want it to shatter to pieces or melt to slag or anything. It'll be risky, but if the Night Lady wraps her cloak around this area there won't be a chance of lava flowing out of it into any placid boring villages. The Sun is warm and bright and golden, rather like Gallant but much more likely to boil our faces off, and we must take care to – hm. Speak of the wind and the wind appears. Here he comes -

Galley. That's a girl. That's a mortal girl. I must say you keep strange company these days. Aren't the souls of valiant dead men meant to inhabit these halls? And instead? Well. Standards are slipping, it seems.

Something to say? Don't be silly. She's a mortal.

… Ah. Well. I see.

Yes, that's true, but do understand –

Oh, stop crying, girl, it is most irksome.

Yes, I honestly am a giant humanoid carnivorous bird! It's a mask, you fool. Now that you know I'm not going to rip you to pieces with my terrifying wooden beak, can you run along and leave us gods to our business? Good. Thank you so very much.

Gallant, you're being ridiculous. Do you think I'd just barge into this without thinking of the consequences? Yes, like she says, the temperature will drop, and in the long-term plants will shrivel and die and animals will huddle together for warmth as ice slowly creeps across the world and people will sit by smoking fires and tell stories to keep the cold at bay until, finally, the stories stop but really, I think she was exaggerating the problem. Nothing all that terrible would happen if we only stole the Sun for a couple of hours, they'd just get a cold and unpleasant shock. Just the equivalent of throwing water in their face, really, except a good deal more majestic, of course. But you want assurances? Fine! I swear I will see the Sun returned to this world's skies by midday regardless of whether things go according to plan or not. Alright? Even if they don't give us lots of tasty prayers we'll put the blasted thing back.

… They will, though.

Fine! Fine, stop glaring at me like that, and mind your language – according to most myths the Earth is your father as well, remember, so casting doubt on my parentage is hardly the thing to do. I swear on my blood and my bones and my two-colour cloak. Happy now?

… No? Ah … Can I talk to you in the corner? I wouldn't want to bother these esteemed comrades of ours with whatever tiny issue it is that needs clarifying.

Now. What has you so irked, exactly? Is it that I gave you only stale bread and water? Because I thought humility was, you know, one of your things. Loyalty and honour and baking pies for new neighbours, all that. Surely you can deal with a little bread and water! I'd have arranged for a nice mortal virgin for you, like Devourer, but you seem to have that covered, so I can't imagine –

You object to the company? Devourer, you mean? Yes, I know he's meant to bring the Darkness Days and swallow the vastness of the universe into his mouth lined with the fangs of a thousand deaths, but really, I'm sure he's a perfectly decent fellow once you get to know him, and … in all honesty, you're in no position to complain. You of all people should know better than to insult those you have allowed into your Hall. Whatever happened to hearth laws? And you did give me free reign with this little gathering. I'm the Trickster, sparkle-sword. What did you expect?

… You … trusted me? I – um. Excuse me. Shan't be a moment.

There. Forgive me, I was quite overcome with emotion. What do you mean, I was laughing? Nonsense. Nonsense. I was so touched that I could no longer hold my composure. Honestly. Trust me, Galley.

I can see why you'd have objections to this, but really, as my tricks go, it's far from the worst of them. We need something to occupy our time, and this should at least be entertaining, however things turn out. This is what I do, Gallant. I have no Hall of my own to call home and hearth, and so I must wander and seek occupation wherever I may find it. And I know what I said, but – you're needed for this. Far more than any of the others. You're lucky. You're the Sun's favourite child! There's Sun in your hair and heart, and gold around your neck, and you have a golden sword that can cut through anything – even the Sun itself, if you wanted to. Sun-gold is the most precious thing there is; you can use it to blind your foes or give warmth and light, and it's rare and alive, and the Sun lets you drape yourself in the stuff. We need you. This won't cause harm, not truly, and it'll make for an entertaining tale, and it – it's what I do. Tricks and mischief. And just this once I'd like to do something without us being on opposing sides. Please?

Thank you.

Apologies once again for my absence, Gallant just wanted advice on how to court that woman of his. Reducing her to tears! Honestly, no tact at all. Now then. We're all on the same page? Tomorrow would be fine – the sooner the better. Night Lady, be prepared to spread your cloak; Devourer, be … well, stop oozing acid over Gallant's nice Hall, it's not polite. Particularly don't ooze it over that one really nice table … Oh dear oh dear. Oh well. Are we all in agreement and well informed of our goals? Excellent. We'll move at … sunrise.

Heh.

Description
Good evening, gentlemen.

I trust you are all quite content with your meals and your seating? I would be most distressed if any of you were less than comfortable. I have a proposition for you, you see. And – oh, a moment, could you repeat that?

…

I take by that incomprehensible string of consonants you are pleased by your meal? Many thanks. It's tricky to find real virgins in this day and age – humans, honestly, you know how they are. I had to find some out-of-the-way little island where innocence is valued, and that's why this meeting was so delayed. But worth it for your company, dear Devourer! I assure you you are quite integral to this enterprise. Though please refrain from talking again, I don't want my ears to start bleeding. I'm fond of this cloak.

So are we all comfortable? Good. Now then. Before I begin, we had best thank Gallant for the use of his Hall, as I have none of my own. There he is, being his usual shiny golden self. Give him a wave, everyone. No, Harvest-Lord, I didn't mean that literally, but I am, as ever, awed by your enthusiasm. And – theft? No, no, I told you, your brother gave up his powers of his own free will, and I had little to do with it.

Do have some more wine.

Now then. My proposition.

I seek to steal the Sun.

I judge by your silence you are suitably awed. All well and good. Small ambitions for small men; and, this being a vast ambition indeed, who better suited to it than gods? And that is why you're here. I know this summoning is far from regular – generally we only meet when there's some manner of feud or boring thing like that, yes, Harvest-Lord, you can stop giving me those meaningful looks, I know you mean to declare challenge sooner or later, it can wait – but it is a matter of great importance. I have your best interests at heart.

… Gallant, I do believe that was a laugh. Delighted though I am to cause you merriment, I am in deadly earnest. Surely you have noticed that things are not as they used to be? We grow withered. Feeble. Weak. No, Harvest-Lord, that wasn't aimed at you specifically, you are doubtless as hale as ever – is that a new corn-crown? It's nice. Very leafy. Good colour on you. A moment, I'll refill your cup.

We grow weak. And there is cause for it. Those same humans that, over the centuries, have enticed and beguiled and frustrated and delighted us, those humans without whom immortality would be a lot less troubled and a good deal less interesting – those humans who are, in a way, our very purpose in life (though personally I think it would be fairer if we were theirs) now seem fit to end it. Our worshippers dwindle in number. Our powers grows weak. What we need, gentlemen – lady – is a way to capture their attention. To remind them that they have gods, and that their gods are watching, and that their gods are deserving of respect. Something big … And so we arrive at my original point. Stealing the Sun is startling in its audacity, but it would be simplicity itself in its execution – I have invited each of you here for a reason, you are all integral, all key. Night Lady, you wear the stars as your cloak; it would be a simple matter to slip through the fabric and lie in wait there, for the Sun to rise. Devourer, you are by far the strongest of any god I have seen, or … beast or entropic force or whatever it is you are. You could hold the Sun steady for the time we needed it to be – hold it back. I've found a nice little place in the mountains where we could keep it for a while, but we'd need your strength to hold it there. And Gallant, you – actually I don't have a reason for you, I just needed your Hall. Though I'm sure you'd be perfectly helpful. You could stand there and glint at us if you like. It would do wonders for morale. Oh, but – are you frowning? That won't do. God of Warriors and Nobility and Fiercely Furrowed Brows. It does not resonate well. No matter.

Madness? No, Gallant. No. It is a plan. Just because you don't have enough brain cells to count the number of brain cells you don't have doesn't mean the rest of us don't. What better way to shock the mortals into remembering those they used to pray to than stealing all their warmth and light away and leaving them to the darkness? They will remember us well enough then, when they have no one else.

Oh, dear. How perfectly hysterical. Well, no doubt he'll return soon enough. In any case, I wouldn't expect him to understand – he has no shortage of worshippers. Why, just the other day I was watching a war, as you do, and thousands of soldiers prayed that he would help them defeat their foul inhuman foes. Soldiers from both sides, mind. Don't tell him I told you that. He gets touchy about that sort of thing. So then. Are the rest of you with me, at least?

Thank you, gracious Lady. I am honoured that you would spare the time to listen, and more honoured still that you would spare the time to hear. Your help is appreciated more vastly than I can say. And thank you, Devourer, and – yes, there are more virgins where that one came from. Really, it's a lovely island. And will you two excuse me for a moment?

Harvest-Lord, I can't help but notice you said neither aye nor nay to my proposition. And that you are slumped beneath the table. Really, this is undignified. In Gallant the Golden's Shining Hall, no less. I mean, he won't harm you or anything, but he'll look at you in that way he has, you know, sadly, which is most likely worse. You are honestly supremely drunk, aren't you? You'd think a god of crops would be better able to hold their liquor. Mm. Well. Your blankly stupid stare has me suddenly and inexplicably compelled to confess. Yes, I tricked Vineyard Jack from his powers and stole them for myself. No, I had no reason except that I was bored. Yes, he's mortal now, and it's my fault that he is. And, no, in actual fact he's loving it. The other day he got a wrinkle and you would not believe his delight. There was an impromptu song-and-dance. Honestly. It was hilarious.

Harvest-Lord …? Oh, goodness, you seem to have passed out. We'll take your gracious acceptance of my apology as read, then, and I can go on with the business at hand. Many thanks. You are a wondrously forgiving individual. I'll be sure to recommend you to any budding agricultural societies I happen to meet.

Right then. Apologies for my absence, esteemed companions. One must be kind to one's friends even if they do make a fool of themselves after a little drink, haha. Where were we? Yes, that little place in the mountains. I made sure to find somewhere well away from any human settlement, but I'm no rock-god, and we don't want it to shatter to pieces or melt to slag or anything. It'll be risky, but if the Night Lady wraps her cloak around this area there won't be a chance of lava flowing out of it into any placid boring villages. The Sun is warm and bright and golden, rather like Gallant but much more likely to boil our faces off, and we must take care to – hm. Speak of the wind and the wind appears. Here he comes -

Galley. That's a girl. That's a mortal girl. I must say you keep strange company these days. Aren't the souls of valiant dead men meant to inhabit these halls? And instead? Well. Standards are slipping, it seems.

Something to say? Don't be silly. She's a mortal.

… Ah. Well. I see.

Yes, that's true, but do understand –

Oh, stop crying, girl, it is most irksome.

Yes, I honestly am a giant humanoid carnivorous bird! It's a mask, you fool. Now that you know I'm not going to rip you to pieces with my terrifying wooden beak, can you run along and leave us gods to our business? Good. Thank you so very much.

Gallant, you're being ridiculous. Do you think I'd just barge into this without thinking of the consequences? Yes, like she says, the temperature will drop, and in the long-term plants will shrivel and die and animals will huddle together for warmth as ice slowly creeps across the world and people will sit by smoking fires and tell stories to keep the cold at bay until, finally, the stories stop but really, I think she was exaggerating the problem. Nothing all that terrible would happen if we only stole the Sun for a couple of hours, they'd just get a cold and unpleasant shock. Just the equivalent of throwing water in their face, really, except a good deal more majestic, of course. But you want assurances? Fine! I swear I will see the Sun returned to this world's skies by midday regardless of whether things go according to plan or not. Alright? Even if they don't give us lots of tasty prayers we'll put the blasted thing back.

… They will, though.

Fine! Fine, stop glaring at me like that, and mind your language – according to most myths the Earth is your father as well, remember, so casting doubt on my parentage is hardly the thing to do. I swear on my blood and my bones and my two-colour cloak. Happy now?

… No? Ah … Can I talk to you in the corner? I wouldn't want to bother these esteemed comrades of ours with whatever tiny issue it is that needs clarifying.

Now. What has you so irked, exactly? Is it that I gave you only stale bread and water? Because I thought humility was, you know, one of your things. Loyalty and honour and baking pies for new neighbours, all that. Surely you can deal with a little bread and water! I'd have arranged for a nice mortal virgin for you, like Devourer, but you seem to have that covered, so I can't imagine –

You object to the company? Devourer, you mean? Yes, I know he's meant to bring the Darkness Days and swallow the vastness of the universe into his mouth lined with the fangs of a thousand deaths, but really, I'm sure he's a perfectly decent fellow once you get to know him, and … in all honesty, you're in no position to complain. You of all people should know better than to insult those you have allowed into your Hall. Whatever happened to hearth laws? And you did give me free reign with this little gathering. I'm the Trickster, sparkle-sword. What did you expect?

… You … trusted me? I – um. Excuse me. Shan't be a moment.

There. Forgive me, I was quite overcome with emotion. What do you mean, I was laughing? Nonsense. Nonsense. I was so touched that I could no longer hold my composure. Honestly. Trust me, Galley.

I can see why you'd have objections to this, but really, as my tricks go, it's far from the worst of them. We need something to occupy our time, and this should at least be entertaining, however things turn out. This is what I do, Gallant. I have no Hall of my own to call home and hearth, and so I must wander and seek occupation wherever I may find it. And I know what I said, but – you're needed for this. Far more than any of the others. You're lucky. You're the Sun's favourite child! There's Sun in your hair and heart, and gold around your neck, and you have a golden sword that can cut through anything – even the Sun itself, if you wanted to. Sun-gold is the most precious thing there is; you can use it to blind your foes or give warmth and light, and it's rare and alive, and the Sun lets you drape yourself in the stuff. We need you. This won't cause harm, not truly, and it'll make for an entertaining tale, and it – it's what I do. Tricks and mischief. And just this once I'd like to do something without us being on opposing sides. Please?

Thank you.

Apologies once again for my absence, Gallant just wanted advice on how to court that woman of his. Reducing her to tears! Honestly, no tact at all. Now then. We're all on the same page? Tomorrow would be fine – the sooner the better. Night Lady, be prepared to spread your cloak; Devourer, be … well, stop oozing acid over Gallant's nice Hall, it's not polite. Particularly don't ooze it over that one really nice table … Oh dear oh dear. Oh well. Are we all in agreement and well informed of our goals? Excellent. We'll move at … sunrise.

Heh.