The Administorum
Battle Related Forums => Board Battles => Topic started by: Soul Reaver on March 21, 2021, 08:51:10 PM
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Soul Reaver's Voidblade swings in silence, dampening all the roaring sound and chaos around him. To hold death in one's hands comes at a price, and it is all that Soul Reaver can do to set his mouth grimly, cold sweat glistening on his brow, as he vaporizes the endless waves of flesh that threaten to engulf him.
Jharm's flashing spears fly overhead, followed by Danyael in a whirl of power and light. From Kitharsis erupts a veritable storm of sinister energy, coalescing into a bristling hail of bone blades, spears and skeletal minions to a scale he had never seen the warrior use before. Jihon's triton blasts away with its cannons while Gulgrim and his Krooza pour out a level of fire that could have leveled cities in a blink.
He barely can register what has happened before Soul Reaver finds himself standing within range of the Avatar's core, an enormous, squealing, gibbering thing. Its body crackles and crunches as it tries to protect itself against the relentless onslaught, but it is hurt. It is weakened.
There could be no mercy now.
Soul Reaver grips the Voidblade's insubstantial hilt and swings it down again and again. It cleaves its way effortlessly through the matter before it, hewing chunks of armor and indescribable matter from its target. Again and again he raises the weapon, until it falls one last time...
A fiery eruption of energy that washes over Soul Reaver. In a dreamy calm he realizes he had not really planned an escape route this time.
His Warp Shields instinctively snap into existence as he finds himself within the Warp, but before he even has a chance to panic, a familiar, friendly will guides him to safety.
Mary...?
There is a clang as solid metal appears beneath Soul Reaver's feet. The ugly, jumbled mass of technology looks to be of now-familiar orkish design, and Soul Reaver realizes he is standing on the bridge of the Krooza. Next to him, his companions appear. Before him, the baleful Eye of Terror stares back at him.
But where was Cameron? Where was Mary?
Then there is a flash of light, and the Eye closes.
Soul Reaver stares numbly at the vast field of empty, uncaring stars.
-
Gulgrim slowly floats in the void of space for a moment, laughing his triumph into the soundless vacuum, before his frame begins to shrink, the titanic Ork compressing down into his still impressively large but more manageable size, his flaming WAAAGH!!! arm guttering out before, with a KRACK of green lightning, the Ork and the kannon he had been holding vanish from the emptiness and return to the interior of the ship in their appropriate places, a heavy klang and thud marking Gulgrim's entrance to the Bridge.
The bridge of the Infinite WAAAGH!!! is a wild, haphazard array, a mixture of Imperial Battlefleet command vessel and ancient aquatic-world mariner's vessel. At the helm stands a grizzled-looking ork decked in an eyepatch and overwrought hat, much like his Warboss's but smaller, gripping what looks to be a wooden ship's wheel. How such a device could handle the complex and difficult task of steering a vessel this massive, especially in a three-dimensional field such as space rather than the significantly less vertical environment of the open sea, was a mystery only the Orks could solve.
Elsewhere, Orks milled about to and fro, punching uppity machines that were reeling from the sudden shift out of the warp and back into the materium, sparks flying as computer banks overloaded and were quickly doused by the quick application of an ablative grot smothering, and bellowing orks shouted statuses across and over each other in a hooting cacophony.
"Mista Jagtoof!" Gulgrim hollered, his voice immediately carrying over and silencing the din of Orkish noise. "Status reporta!"
The grizzled ork at the helm grinned, his gruff, gravelly tones offsetting the loud noise that had previously been present. "Everyfin's good, boss. All systems Operashunal. Da krooza's still alive an' kickin', an' most a' yer WAAAGH!!!'s 'ere in da void aside us." He kicked a small display console next to him, and a hololith diagram of the local space indicating the nearby fleet that made up Gulgrim's WAAAGH!!! that hovered in space nearby in the place the Eye had once been.
"Den we'z did it!" Gulgrim laughs, his massive, sharptoothed grin stretching to his ears. He immediately raised his one remaining hand, his cybork arm having not been replaced yet, and in it is suddenly a massive flagon, filled to the brim with some frothing liquid. "Fungus beers all 'round, ladz! We'z won anuvver one! Dis was one o' da biggest fights any ork's ever seen!"
Cheers went up across the bridge, and could be heard echoing from deeper within the krooza's interior, the Kaptin's voice having been carried likely across the entire fleet jus now. Orks ran to and fro, hooting and laughing, grabbing flagons of fungus beer and starting minor brawls in celebration. Some of them even looked likely to have a go at the Companions until one of them, running headlong at Soul Reaver's numb form with a choppa raised high, caught a boot to the head from Gulgrim that sent him sprawling.
"Leave deze lads outta yer celebrashuns!" Gulgrim bellowed, indicating with his thumb to the Companions. "Dey'z not Orkz, but dey'z worf workin' wif. Dey'z brought us ta dis fight, an' dey'll bring us ta more a' da biggest fights we could ever find in da future! Dey'z off limits fer krumpin! An' if anyone tries ta get smart wif em, dey'z gots me permission ta thin out any o' me krew wot gets 'unruly'" he offered a baleful glare that cowed any other Orks thinking of trying their luck, and then turned to the Companions himself, still somewhat lopsided without his other arm.
"So den. We'z won. Da big 'ole in da 'ooniverse is gone, an' da spikey boyz' stoopid godz iz dead. Dat sounds like cause fer celebrashun ta me."
-
All he could think of was finish it. Over and over these two words echoed in his mind - a battle mantra to keep his mind centered on the end goal. Finish the mission. Finish the campaign. The two words played in synchrony with each thrust and swing, of which there were already too many to count in what would be a lifetime. And in a flash of light, he swung again, but this time with a hand that held no blade. All he could see was light. Light, everywhere. And it was his hand that now swung to reach into the radiant infinity - until he felt another hand clasp'd firmly 'round his own. The hand felt more than familiar, and it brought calm with it. He closed his eyes and treated himself to a mental smirk, wordlessly mouthing her name with a laugh no one could hear.
And then he felt the sudden influx of gravity as the infinite light became a downward well, his feet now touching down in a small up-spurt of sparks as he touches down on what would be the floor of an unfamiliar vessel. The blissful silence was replaced by raucous noise - not rage inducing, but just simply raucous. The presence and the hand that came with it was no longer there - now replaced by the companions he'd fought alongside. He took his new alien environ in slowly (or at least his version of slow) and dedicated each face, old and new, to memory before finding a wall to lean against. He knew she wasn't actually gone, but he also knew she wasn't in the room with them.
He watched what was once the Eye, now blink itself shut in a flash of power, the boom from the flare tethering out to him into it fizzles back into the aether. He watched the place that was once the Eye and reminisced: this place was his home for centuries. This place mutated him, changed different aspects of his genetics, as well as literally transforming the way he perceives the universe (nay, the Omniverse) around him. He was now, because of the Eye, for all intents and purposes, a mutant the likes of which the Imperium had not seen. There would be countless more like him, though. This wasn't necessarily bad, however. And it was all because he'd chosen to run away in his youth, an immature leader of a nation he was not prepared to rule. But due to his time in the Eye, he was older, wiser, stronger. The Eye improved him. It was a peculiar conundrum. And just musing about it was an obnoxious irony he didn't feel like expending the stamina to contemplate any further.
"...fuck."
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The Seraphim watches as the horrible mass of Chaos flesh quivers and then explodes. Jharm barely manages to erect a shield around himself a split second before the terrible viscera splashes over him and then a moment later he finds himself floating in the Warp itself. There is little he can do and he knows this, but then feels a presence seeming to guide him and then the next thing he knows his armored feet thump down onto the deck of the orkish Krooza. His glowing eyes gaze around, taking in his surroundings and noticing that there is no sign of Mary or Cameron even as the Eye itself winks out of existence. His hands grip his warhammer tightly as the various Orks make a move briefly as if intending to "celebrate" on the Companions before Gulgrim stops them.
"Leave deze lads outta yer celebrashuns!" Gulgrim bellowed, indicating with his thumb to the Companions. "Dey'z not Orkz, but dey'z worf workin' wif. Dey'z brought us ta dis fight, an' dey'll bring us ta more a' da biggest fights we could ever find in da future! Dey'z off limits fer krumpin! An' if anyone tries ta get smart wif em, dey'z gots me permission ta thin out any o' me krew wot gets 'unruly'"
The giant Ork then turns back to the Companions before continuing.
"So den. We'z won. Da big 'ole in da 'ooniverse is gone, an' da spikey boyz' stoopid godz iz dead. Dat sounds like cause fer celebrashun ta me."
Jharm ponders for a moment before closing his eyes.
General Drayven, please tell me the two of you and the rest of our people managed to make it out of there...
After a few moments he finally gets a response
D: Yes Seraphim, all surviving Seraphs had managed to return home before suddenly the portal collapsed. We have been unable to reach you until now. Is everything alright?
Alright? In truth I'm not sure I can say it is, but most of us seem to have survived the battle. Worry not about that, see to our people and I want all defenses reinforced. Beware of possible attacks by the forces of Darkness should they sense our current.....weakness.
D: As you command Seraphim, it shall be done.
The Seraphims focus returns to his present surroundings as he gazes at the Ork Warboss
"We have been victorious it seems...but the cost is staggering. My own people endured much in their efforts to hold back the forces of Chaos, and...."
He gazes between the Companions as if to punctuate his next words.
"I count us 2 fewer then we should be. We can only hope they still survive somewhere."
-
It's dark.
Where is everyone?
I was doing something. Something important.
Why can't I remember?
A deep rumble sounds in the distance. But all is calm here. It's a sensation like floating. But there is nothing to float in. He moves his hands, but he cannot see them, and no rush of air tickles his skin.
Where am I?
Who... am I?
----------------------
The Maw explodes, and with a guttural scream Kitharsis expels a huge amount of energy to deflect the maelstrom. The Warp quickly envelops the area, pulling him in along with the other companions. He laughs as the Warp assaults his defenses. The epilogue of a dying god. Pitiful.
A presence reaches out to him. Mary, the Warp Elemental. Kitharsis pushes away from her and exits the warp on his own.
The vastness of space stretches out before him. Dark energy continues to roil and seethe around his body as he floats stationary in space. The Eye was gone. How disappointing. He wanted to play some more. One measly, mundane attack was a let down. The potential for destruction sits at the tip of his fingers. It begs for release.
It was a thirst. A hunger. And it needed sated lest it drive him mad.
A riotous grin carves across his face as he turns to face the Krooza.
There is a meal worth pursuing.
The aimless energy clouding around him explodes in a massive shock wave that rocks the Krooza. Massive black flames burst forth from his body as he gathers an unfathomable amount of energy within him. A burst of energy propels him forward, directly at the Krooza and The Companions. Without intervention, Kitharsis threatens to smash right through the ship, and whoever is in his path.
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The Infinite WAAAGH!!! rocks under a shockwave, sparks flying as more computer banks spit flames, but the ship is made of stern stuff, and its krew recover quickly, a rising excitement thrumming through the decks at the prospect of another fight so soon after the last.
"Hahaha! Wot'd I tell ya!" Gulgrim bellows joyously, striding up behind the helm to look out the viewport at the oncoming Kitharsis, before scowling, recognizing the oncoming assailant. He looked over his shoulder at the Companions. "We doin' dis again? I gotta not krump somebody again cuz 'e's lost 'is mind? Feh, fine. Bettah keep me krooza intact. Mista Jagtoof, 'ard ta Port."
Gulgrim's frame begins to spark with green lightning, the anticipation of the fight already building again, with no need for a pause between battles. The Infinite WAAAGH!!! begins to turn hard, the oncoming Kitharsis disappearing from the viewport. This move might seem insane; presenting the broad side of the ship to an oncoming attack that is almost certainly going to punch through the hull.
"Alright Weirdboyz, everybody togevva now. Time fer a gud Jump." The Warboss's voice bellows and carries across the length of the ship as each of his Weirdboys hear his command and begin to focus their power in sync with their leader's. Gulgrim's green lightning begins to cascade into the floor and dance around the interior of the bridge, growing more intense with each second.
The avatar of Gork and Mork turns his head to look once more at the companions. "'Old on ta somefin' ladz. Don't know if you've evva been in a proppa Orky jump, but fings're about ta get weird."
And then everything goes Green as the entirety of the Infinite WAAAGH!!! and its passengers vanish in a burst of Orky lightning. The sensation for the uninitated is nothing short of reality-jarring; the feeling of having every part of yourself violently (for Orks can do nothing without it being violent) ripped apart and reassembled somewhere else, with the uncomfortable sense that perhaps whatever was doing the work on the jigsaw that was your existence wasn't all that caring on if he put all the parts back in the right order, so long as it got the picture mostly right. Fortunately, everyone seemed to come back into existence in largely the same configuration as they left, staring still at a slightly different arrangement of stars, with the charging Kitharsis slowly coming back into view as the Krooza finished its hard turn; only this time, the angle was retreating rather than oncoming, as the entire breadth of the massive Kill Krooza had repositioned itself behind the oncoming Tirthandaran.
"Well. If yer gonna fight ya'd betta get yerself kitted fer space. I'm not keen on' lettin' 'im wreck me Krooza." Gulgrim says, stomping his way back over to the rest of the group. "Wot we'z doin'?"
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Soul Reaver snaps out of his daze when he senses hostility from the crew onboard the Krooza. His head snaps around just in time to see an unruly ork being kicked aside by Gulgrim.
He realizes then, as though coming out of a trance, that he has instinctively raised the Voidblade, still gripped in ice-encrusted hands. Silently, the weapon flickered with darkness, sapping away sound, heat and life.
Gently, he unclasps his fist, and the voidblade evaporates as though it had never been... which, really, was true in a sense.
The weight of exhaustion washes over Soul Reaver and he stumbles, then sits down heavily onto the ground. When Jharm comments on the missing companions, Soul Reaver acknowledges his statement with a quiet nod of his head.
Then suddenly, Soul Reaver feels Kitharsis' soul appear nearby... but not in the Krooza. And even without seeing him, he can tell something is wrong. He leaps to his feet, only for a shock wave to rock the entire ship and almost send him to the ground again. Looking out of the view port, Soul Reaver sees the unmistakable form of Kitharsis directly ahead, coruscating with dark energy.
Oh no...
Gulgrim barks orders and the krooza judders as it turns hard to port. A green flash envelops Soul Reaver, and for a moment he feels almost sick as he is forcefully wrenched through space. The view has now changed, with the Krooza coming up behind Kitharsis.
Gulgrim, arcing with Waagh! lighting is clearly gearing up for a fight, but Soul Reaver furrows his brow. He was exhausted, and his energies were not mustering the way they normally would when faced with such danger.
Instead, Soul Reaver sends a telepathic message directed at his friend.
"Kitharsis, what are you doing?! The Eye of Terror has been conquered, the Dark Gods defeated! Calm your passions and stand down!"
-
The Seraphim is disrupted from his musings when the Orkish Krooza suddenly rocks violently as it is struck by something.
What in the Light? Chaos forces that managed to escape the destruction of the Eye?
He gets his answer though when Gulgrim speaks up.
"We doin' dis again? I gotta not krump somebody again cuz 'e's lost 'is mind? Feh, fine. Bettah keep me krooza intact. Mista Jagtoof, 'ard ta Port."
Moments later Jharm is briefly overwhelmed by the rather jarring and disturbing sensation of his entire body being ripped apart and then slapped back together. Gazing down at his armored form as if to determine if he was missing anything (and confirming he wasnt). Moving closer to the viewport the Seraph mutters softly.
"By the Light...first Soul Reaver and now Kitharsis, and then add in the fact that both Mary and Cameron are missing....this is not good."
Reaching out mentally towards Kitharsis, he can easily sense the dark, malevolent power radiating through his friend. He then gazes over his shoulder back towards Soul Reaver.
"Give the word and the Light shall once more stand against this newest face of Darkness."
Jharm had little doubt that Soul Reaver would be trying to contact the clearly disturbed Kitharsis, and waited to see what happens next. His one hand hefting his large warhammer onto his shoulder as his other hand clenched tightly together as he watched the small figure, prepared to try and shield the vessel they were in if the attack continued.
-
Something was amiss, though he couldn't at the moment place what it was. But he certainly knew where. The eye may have been closed, but the lingering residue of battle still persisted in its 'absence'. And there was something more. Something... voracious. As his thoughts collected, his feet were already moving him out of the bridge, picking up in pace into his own variant of a 'jog' as he blurred into alacrity, then going into a full mad dash - looking for what would pass as a possible exit. He was still so very weak after the battle. Too weak to mount up fortifications around the ship. But he wasn't helpless. Soon enough, he found what he was looking for: an airlock.
The Yamato began to vibrate, first subtly, then more robustly so, as it magnetized itself to the floor's metal with a satisfying 'shhunk!' as it locked itself in place. Just in time, it seemed, as he looked through the viewport to a sight he'd not once ever thought to consider. Kitharsis, his dear friend, his brother in arms, presently appearing as anything but. In fact, just the opposite. And the power his friend was pulsing went beyond Danyael's understanding. How could he be exerting so much strength after a battle that left all of them so weakened? It didn't matter at present. Because the sudden lurch of WAAAGH! energy sent Danyael hard to his knees. It was dizzying and messy. And it was no surprise the Orks were so at home with such a force. Still weakened, he tried to shake off the residual effects. The yamato snarled with a quiet power of its own, to which Danyael synced with a touch, encasing him in an iridescent barrier of gold. Extending behind the weapon was a barrier of blue, closing off the corridor so none would be caught in the vacuum.
The barrier was flawed, he knew, as he wasn't anywhere near his own strength. But with the ship now training its cannons on his friend, he didn't have much choice. He clasped his quivering hand around the airlock's lever. The barrier would provide him temporary protection. Hopefully he would find a window of opportunity to either heal, or buy the companions time to mount their own offensive. "Clear!" he barked, pulling down and at the same time darting forward as the vacuum yanked him into the cosmos. The lack of gravity wasn't disorienting, so much as remembering how to master it was. The steps came back and he righted his position, soaring to the very top where he clamped down on the upper most summit of the ship.
Reaching out with his mind, not knowing if Kith would answer, he made his plea. "Kith, stand down! The fight's over! We won! There's no enemies here!"
-
"Kitharsis, what are you doing?! The Eye of Terror has been conquered, the Dark Gods defeated! Calm your passions and stand down!"
"Kith, stand down! The fight's over! We won! There's no enemies here!"
The words are muffled, distant. Like rain tapping on the roof while in bed. Easy enough to tune out, but noticeable as it starts.
Kitharsis. What an odd name. He chuckles, but no sensation shakes his chest. Kitharsis...
More tapping on the roof. Faint, but persistent. Like steady rain, it fades into the background. It does not rain often in the desert. What an interesting development.
----------------------------------------------
One of them leaves the ship and clumsily makes his way to perch on top of the ship, Danyael the Nephilim. One of his friends. How nice of him to come. Kitharsis wanted to show him what he gained. He stares at Danyael as he pleads with him to stop. Stand down he says. Release the power flowing through him. Abandon his newfound strength and glory and return to what? The stunted existence he struggled through before? The perversion of "purifying" this existence?
No. He would not. The power flowing through him demands release. It demands to feel the weak cower in its clutches, and he is happy to oblige.
Kitharsis, encased in darkness, raises an outstretched hand toward Danyael. The obscene energy roiling around him surges forward in an instant. Giant bony fingers manifest at the tip of the assault. They grasp at Danyael as he sits exposed atop the Krooza.
Within the ship near each of the other companions, a small sphere of energy manifests in the air. It quickly grows in size, bubbling and churning as it takes shape into a large bone golem. It rivals Kitharsis in size and build and wields razor sharp claws. The mass of bones waste no time in attacking Soul Reaver, Jharm and Gulgrim.
If you will not come out and play. I will come to you. A booming voice echoes in their heads.
Danyael and the rest of the companions should be able to tell that this energy signature is most certainly not Kitharsis'. It is malevolent and oppressive, far from the warmth of his typical presence.
-
When the companions were deposited safely away from the Eye of Terror, Jihon's triton found itself floating in space near the Krooza - just as well, since the krooza's cockpit wasn't designed with huge combat suits in mind.
Jihon takes a moment to cheer to himself as the Eye of Terror winks out of existence, but before he can properly turn his attentions to locating Soul Reaver and Cameron, the familiar figure of Kitharsis appears in the distance.
He raises a mechanical arm to give an enthusiastic wave... only to have the gesture abort awkwardly when he suddenly sees a wave of sinister energy washing forth from Kitharsis' form... and blast straight towards him!
Jets active in the triton and it careens at high speed downwards, putting the krooza between itself and the blast wave. Just as well - the impact causes even the huge mass of the krooza to rock and shudder. No telling just how much damage it might have done.
Before Jihon can properly get his bearings, arcs of green lightning surge across the krooza. They seems to reach out to him and wrench him through space, though it feels like not all organs moved at the exact same time.
"Urg. I think I just threw up a little in my mouth..."
From his vantage point, he can see Danyael atop the krooza, right beneath enormous grasping, skeletal fingers, though Jihon himself remains out of Kitharsis' sight.
"What is even happening here?" he says to himself, exasperated.
He raises a multi-barrelled gattling cannon and hefts his beam saber in the other hand.
"Pretty sure the giant skele-hand isn't there to give us all a big thumbs up, so..."
The roar of the gun is silent in the void of space as Jihon levels a hail of supporting fire against the bony hand heading for Danyael.
-
Soul Reaver waits anxiously for a few moments after his message, but receives not indication that Kitharsis has heard him - Soul Reaver couldn't tell if Kitharis couldn't hear, or wouldn't hear, or simply couldn't respond. The silence was frightening.
And then, pandemonium once more. A flux of power outside and a more localized one just behind him. Soul Reaver whirls around to see a giant composed of bone rise to its feet. With a speed belying its appearance, razor-sharp bone claws slash toward Soul Reaver. Instinctively the warrior leaps aside just in time.
If you will not come out and play. I will come to you.
While the golem appeared to be one of Kitharsis' creations, the energy animating it felt nothing like his. Not a warming desert wind... it was hostile, cruel.
Soul Reaver scrambles toward the golem's left flank, his lips in a grim line.
His left arm raises and the palm of his hand unleashes a torrent of Darkbolts, the stream aimed directly at the Golem's face.
The kinetic force from one such impact was usually enough to knock a grown human off their feet and onto their back - applied above the golem's center of mass, Soul Reaver hoped it would throw it off-balance. Still unleashing the blast, he goes in low, Blooddrinker singing as it whips out of its scabbard and aims below the golem's knee. The blade should hopefully damage or even sever the leg, while draining some of the energy animating the beast.
-
The Seraphim raises an arm, a shimmering shield of Light manifesting in front of it just in time to block the incoming claws from the large Bone Golem assaulting him. The two large figure seem to struggle for a moment, claws scrapping over luminous shield before Jharm kicks out with one of his armored legs, smashing it into the golems chest and sending the macabre monster backwards a step. Seizing his hammer in his right hand, the shield set in front of him he glares at the golem, glowing eyes blazing from within his helmet.
With a surge of motion he dashes forward, slamming his large armored form into the golem and unleashes a flurry of shield bashes and swings of his heavy hammer before finally slamming the weapon down on the ground and unleashing a brilliant flash of light to disorient and possibly blind the boney creatures or at least distract them from his comrades and enable them to better land their own attacks.
-
"Feh. Ya don't mind if I'z krump dis one, roight?" Gulgrim asks, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he barrels forward under the cover of Jharm's brilliant shield. Using the shimmering barrier as a wall between himself and oncoming attacks as Jharm pushes back and makes his own offensive, Gulgrim charges ahead, his Kutlass appearing in his hand, scraping sparks from the deck as he drags it behind him. In conjunction with Jharm's dazzling light display, the warboss leaps upward, propelling himself above the scrap, narrowly passing by flailing bone claws as they scrape and score across his armor. With a bellowing roar, the Freebooter warlord plunges downward, putting his weight and his Orky strength behind the falling slash of his Kutlass aimed for center mass on the bone golem.
But the Warboss's shout did more than just announce his presence. It alerted the bridge to stop muckin' about. On all sides, Orks looked up and realized there was a fight to be had. Sluggas, Shootas, Choppas, and other weapons were brought to bear, and almost immediately after Gulgrim crashes down, a hail of haphazardly-aimed bullets pours in from all sides, -mostly- directed towards the golem rather than anyone else, though a stray round or two was likely inevitable given the sheer volume of fire.
It was time to get stuck in.
-
Outside of Danyael's perception, mere seconds were ticking by. But inside his perception, moments of time counted down around him, each one bringing back collective rivulets of strength as his regenerative abilities began to find their rhythm. He watched as the darkness surrounding his 'friend' outstretched, made manifest in the form of a massive skeletal hand aimed for none other than the Nephilim Lord himself. As the construct closed distance between them, Danyael was well within acceptable parameters to properly put up an acceptable defense. Except... there was a sudden surge of power below as activity scrambled about throughout the Krooza, followed by a volley of gun fire from Jihon, chipping away at the hand as it sped closer to Danyael. By he time it had reached him, the Nephilim Lord arced an outward crescent kickto batter away at the hand as he spun away in a flash of speed, soaring back down to the barrier encased airlock. Phasing through the barrier, he gained hold of the Yamato before reaching back out with his opposite hand and - with a gesture - reinforced the barrier.
He knew there was more to deal with, now working in tactics for the next move.
-
The persistent beating on the conceptualized roof above Kitharsis isincreasing in volume. The steady patter it began as has turned into a thumping distraction. If he had a face it would have frowned at the disturbance. Inside the void, he attempts to move toward the sensation. But he could not tell if he was moving or imagining it.
---
Jihon and Danyael make quick work of the reaching skeletal hand. Jihons barrage hits full force into the reaching hand, and the already battered and cracking bones shatter into thousands of pieces and Danyael kicks it away. He is able to retreat to the hold of the ship and bolster the shields, but Jihon is quite by himself.
Soul Reaver executes a quick combination of effective blows to the bone golem. The Darkbolts blast it to pieces above its shoulders, and the slash below the knee is very effective in removing its legs. The golem falls, catching itself with its hands.
Jharm is equally as effective in disabling the golem attacking him. The golem is completely off balance as Jharm starts his barrage of hammer and shield blows. And the final slam of Jharm's hammer blasts the golem into pieces.
Gulgim's falling slash rends the bone golem in two. The golem frantically grabs at itself in an attempt to keep together. The barrage of fire from the surrounding orks causes it to lose its hold on itself and collapse into a pile of bones.
Outside the Krooza, Kitharsis laughs, before a surge of power overflows from him.
The thousands of pieces of the dismembered bone golems inside the Krooza begin to shake and bounce against the floor. As quickly as they were broken apart, the pieces of the golem come together into multiple more. Each of the companions now find themselves surrounded by three separate golems. The golems attack of the weary companions at once with great strength and speed.
Outside, the shards of shattered bone coalesce into a whirling cloud above the Krooza. The cloud surges forward toward Jihon's Triton. Razor sharp lances of bone threaten to pincushion the triton.
As this happens, Kitharsis begins floating toward the Krooza himself, intending to join the skirmish personally.
-
Soul Reaver curses under his breath as the bones reform into three smaller golems. Leaping forward against one, the others part way to try and attack him from either flank on the rear. They were well-coordinated, not acting mindlessly. Soul Reaver abandons the attack before he ends up being surrounded and swiftly backs away toward a wall, parrying attacks all the way.
Soul Reaver considers the situation.
It is like the sand he controls - taking them apart will just let them reform over and over.
He decides to try something else. With a complicated series of gestures and words, he constructs a new spell - firing a glob of greenish goo from his hand that spatters over the nearest golem.
The normal Web spell on which it is based would merely coat its target in a net of sticky spider-silk, but with Soul Reaver's alterations the goo is now highly acidic.
He hopes it will work to dissolve the calcified bone of the golem into a hissing slurry.
-
The Seraphim swings his hammer around himself in a large circle, forcing the three golems surround him to step back as he takes to the air, flying up slightly and then moving over slightly before dropping back to the ground. He works to keep the three golems in front of him, his shield and martial prowess working to keep the magical creatures from pressing against him too hard. He has few options though to attempt to permanently destroy the creations. Smashing them down has already proven to be a lesson in futility. Deciding that his companions likely had better options that might result in actual permanent destruction he once more lifts into the air and skirts over the top of his own opponents before landing once more and charging at the three golems working to advance on Soul Reaver. He works to try and draw the attention of the other golems onto himself. Utilizing his abilities to shield and heal himself to withstand the likely barrage of attacks the creatures would launch at him, he hopes the others come up with a better plan, or even more preferrable, Kitharsis snaps out of whatever madness he seems to have been overcome by.
-
Jihon sees Danyael retreat into the Krooza - leaving him alone in space with the hostile cloud of bone shards.
"Uh, bye?"
The shards coalesce into lances of bone and begin thrusting toward him.
Disengaging the magnetic field in the feet of his Triton and with maneuvering jets firing, Jihon acrobatically dodges and weaves between the lances, taking advantage of his weightlessness to move in all directions. He combines his dodging with swings from the beam sabre, which is more than capable of vaporizing any bone it impacts.
-
Gulgrim's toothy grin only grew as the golem reconstructed itself into additional opponents.
"Heheheh. Boyz, you'z got till de rest of dese lads figure out 'ow ta properly snikk dese boney gits ta get yer' fightin' in. Go get stuck in!"
With an exultant cry, the Orks of the bridge began to pile in on the bone golems, hacking, shooting and chopping, forming a green wall surging at the new combatants; a result that may have been more of a hindrance than a help, as for every moment the orks' mass bought away from the golems attacking the companions, they were just as likely to get in the way of oncoming fire or cause yet more problems by breaking off pieces of bone golem that might form yet more enemies. But what it did do was buy Gulgrim time to turn and look out of the krooza's viewport to observe the oncoming form of Kitharsis.
"Now 'ere comes da real fight. Come ta get ol' Gulgrim." The warboss growled in amusement, his form swelling in the anticipation of the fight to come. "If you'z got 'alf da fight o' yer mopin' spikey friend, dis'll be a gud one." there was a sideways glance toward Soul Reaver at the comment, as well as a moment to take in one of his Nobs being ripped open by one of the Bone Golems. As the golem in question pushed through to attempt to close the distance to Gulgrim, the massive Ork gave a derisive snort, turning to face it and unleashing a bellowing roar that blasted scintillating warpfire from his maw, licking and devouring at anything it came into contact with on its way toward crashing into the oncoming foe.
-
Danyael realizes he is out of time when he senses Kitharsis - a supernova of dark energy in his senses - blazing toward the Krooza's bridge.
He manages to re-enter the artificial atmosphere of the ship and dash with superhuman speed onto the bridge, where the others are engaged with fighting the bone golems.
But there is no time left. Mournfully he gets into a defensive stance in preparation for Kitharsis' arrival...
-
Outside the ship, Jihon's efforts allow him to stay one step ahead of the stabbing bone lances. However, he can tell that somehow he is an afterthought - that Kitharsis' focus is not really on him anymore.
Jharm's valiant efforts do much to distract the smaller golems, but focussing of the defensive as he is, he does little lasting damage to them in return. The situation changes when suddenly Gulgrim's crew begin to pile onto the bony forms - the distraction they provide reduces the pressure on Jharm while still keeping the golems occupied... though at the cost of a number of ill-aimed Shoota bullets ricocheting off Jharm's shield.
Soul Reaver's acidic goop spits, bubbles and hisses, eating through the physical material that makes up the bone golem. It is unable to reform, the 'bone' having been destroyed by the attack. The golem standing in Gulgrim's way is similarly vaporized, bone exploding and disintegrating in the green blaze.
----
'Kitharsis' barely notices the damage being done to his minions. He is too enraptured with the power coursing through him, and it suffuses him like a shooting star as he accelerates ever faster toward to the Krooza's bridge.
The massive guns that open fire on him are dismissed with barely a thought - lances of power flash from the energy nimbus that surrounds him, detonating the shells long before they reach him.
Before anyone else can do anything to stop him, Kitharsis punches through the Krooza's shields and smashes into the midst of the bridge, tearing a massive hole open into the pitiless vacuum of space. Unperturbed, he stands facing the warriors on the bridge amidst the carnage he has wrought, a manic grin on his face.
-
"Try using corrosives!" Soul Reaver shouts over the din to anyone who might be able to hear "It stops them reconstituting!"
He glances over his shoulder at the Krooza's viewport just in time to see Kitharsis screaming toward them at phenomenal speed. All the heavy gunfire directed at him leaves him surrounded by qualms of smoke but does nothing to slow his progress.
"Brace yourse-"
Soul Reaver's shout is cut short when Kitharsis bursts onto the bridge with enough force to rock the entire Krooza. Soul Reaver is thrown to the ground, and immediately the vacuum of space begins to suck the air out of the room. A sharp metal panel flies from the wall and slices a cut across his cheek as he clings to the floor to prevent being pulled out into space.
While he could protect himself from the vacuum easily enough, Soul Reaver realizes that the numerous orcish allies in the room might not be so lucky.
Soul Reaver gestures and casts a Shielding spell over the hole left behind by Kitharsis' entry to prevent further decompression of the bridge. It was a hasty measure, but hopefully would buy Gulgrim and his crew the time they need to more effectively seal the breach.
-
Jihon slices, dodges and blasts his way through the bone lances, but they just keep coming.
In the distance, Jihon spots Kitharsis hurtling toward the Krooza, but he is helpless to stop the incoming Kitharsis-projectile. Then Kitharsis disappears from view and the entire Krooza shudders from an impact beneath him.
Kitharsis must be attacking the bridge! He needed to get there as soon as possible.
Activating his jets again, Jihon runs, jumps and flies in spurts, traveling as fast as he can over the Krooza's irregular hull to try and reach the bridge from the outside, all the while fending off the vicious bone spikes leaping at him from all directions...
-
A sudden lurch shakes him. The calm stillness of the void disturbed by - by what?
The tapping was more consistent, growing louder still. Why was he in here?
A growing concern is beginning to take hold. He was doing something important, he thought. There were others with him? It's all foggy.
Without warning, a bright green flash intrudes into the void. He lifts his arm to shield his eyes, but his body doesn't respond. If he even had one.
It reminded him of The Shaman.
A torrent of memories floods into his mind. A white glow sparks to life around him, piercing into the void and giving him form.
He had to get out of here.
-----
Kitharsis eyes each of the Companions as they recover from the breach in the hull. What a pitiful display to receive his arrival. His aimless rage is intensified, like a bellows stoking a flame. The manic grin stretches his lips tight over his clenched teeth. His mohawk sways and twitches wildly as the dark energy violently whips around him.
He raises his arm, palm upwards. A solid sphere of energy appears in his hand. Bolts of dark energy spark around it as it grows larger and larger. His body tenses and he begins to slam the large sphere of energy onto the deck floor below him. But a flash of green fills the space before he can follow through with the attack.
When everyone's eyes recover from the flash, they see Kitharsis encompassed in a shimmering green pyramid. The remnants of a warp gate snaps shut behind a reptilian man donning a simple light brown. He stands between Kitharsis and themselves, straining with the effort of maintaining the barrier.
"Please!" He shouts. "Help me hold him!"
-
Danyael is first to react before the mysterious reptilian stranger finishes his plea. By his perception, the world around him was slowed to a crawl. His left hand spinning the sheathed Yamato, building up glimmering silver energy, as his right hand extended ahead of him as he advanced forward. He dashed past the reptilian stranger, the energies of the whirling Yamato trailing behind in a coruscating slipstream, pouring over Kith as he crossed behind him. Outside of his perception, he was a blur of motion. He clamped the yamato down, edge first, to the floor, locking the shroud of light overtop the reptilian's barrier, adding an additional source of power to restrain his friend.
-
The Seraphim takes a momentary step back as his one-time friend brings that dark orb downwards before there is a flash of brilliant green light. As the flash fades he takes in the scene in front of him, the reptilian being begging for assistance. Without further hesitation Jharm thumps the the head of his warhammer down on the deck of the Ork ship and kneels down as he extends a hand towards the newcomer, palm facing the being. Closing his glowing eyes he focuses and light begins to pass from him towards the reptile, bathing the being in a glow as he channels his own power into the barrier.
-
As Kitharsis punches a hole in the krooza's bridge, a few orks are tossed out into the void, hooting and hollering as they careen into the emptiness of space before one of the more conscientious nobz slams a massive button that says 'Ole Stoppa' on its surface, and a series of metallic bulkheads slam shut over the bridge's viewport, sealing off the breach at the expense of rendering the interior blind to the outside. Angry red emergency lighting flicks on in the interior, bathing everything in a crimson hue.
With the immediate emergency handled, Gulgrim turns to face the new situation on the bridge."Feh. You'z doin' more not fightin'. Not me strongest suit. You'z need 'im clobbered good an' proppa, you'z let me know. But ifn' you'z want 'im 'eld still wivvout bashin, you'z lookin' at da wrong git."
The massive warboss crossed his arms, the metallic cybork arm creaking with the newness of its installation, fixing his Orky gaze on the pyramid, just waiting for it to burst so he could resume the fight.
-
Soul Reaver watches on in relief as the bulkheads seal the hull breach on the Krooza's bridge - he leaves the now-superfluous Shielding spell to dissipate of its own accord.
But now, he must turn to face Kitharsis, his old friend, maddened and sinister. Despite his appearance being unchanged, he can barely recognize him. As Kitharsis gathers his dark powers, Soul Reaver's face hardens, and he tightens his grip around Blooddrinker's hilt. He tenses his muscles...
A bright flash catches him by surprise, forcing him to shield his eyes momentarily. When it clears, a reptilian figure of an aspect that Soul Reaver recognizes from Kitharsis' past stands there, struggling to maintain a green, pyramidal barrier.
"Please! Help me hold him!"
Soul Reaver does not need to be told twice, but can only hope that Jharm, Danyael and the Shaman can hold out long enough for him to complete the required ritual. He runs near Kitharsis and, leaning low, scours the tip of his gauntlet across the ground, scratching a circle around the trapped Kitharsis. The moment this is done, he inscribes a circled rune into the floor, then another a third of the circumference of the circle away from the first, and then a final rune the same distance away again.
The runes and the circle joining them blaze into deep blue life - a powerful runic circle designed to suppress and seal away the energy of the being in its center.
-
Jihon arrives to see Kitharis slam into the bridge like a dark comet, rocking the entire Krooza with the impact. The massive craft strikes him from below and almost sends him careening into space.
Swearing creatively, he fires jets to compensate for the sudden change in trajectory. He tries to follow Kitharsis through the hole he just punched into the Krooza, where atmosphere, debris and a couple of hollering orcs are being ejected into space. But as he starts to get close, a shimmering blue energy shield is thrown up over the opening.
"Damn. Maybe I can still get through..."
As he jets to get closer, a massive metal bulkhead stars to descend. The inside of the krooza comes into view and he can just see Kitharsis, some of the companions and the orks within. He reaches out with the Triton's hand in a desperate bid to get their attention.
"Wait! I-"
The bulkhead slams down over the viewport, sealing it completely and leaving Jihon sitting outside in space, alone.
"Just my luck!"
He reverses direction and starts jetting back toward the airlock that first let him out.
-
Kitharsis thrashes with appendages that do not exist, attacking an endless void that has no form. There has to be a way out of here.
Suddenly, a faint green glow tints the void around him. It is constricting. A barrier that has somehow wrapped around the seemingly endless void around him. And it has trapped him inside with it.
The pulsing continues, sounding like a snare drum reaching a crescendo.
---
The Shaman has fallen to a knee, gasping for breath. As the others add their own effort to the barrier he regains his feet.
"Thank you," He nods, keeping his arms raised in front of him to maintain the barrier. "I wish I had more time to explain. But we must seal him immediately. This is no longer your friend, if he was that to you."
"I am a Shaman from his home. It is my duty to guide our young as they mature. It is also my duty to protect others from those I have failed."
It is clear his heart is heavy. But his resolve is steel.
"This is the right idea," He motion to Soul Reaver's runic barrier. "We need to suppress and seal this energy for all our sake. I will explain everything later. There is precious little time."
He pushes his palms forward, and the pyramid of energy locks into place. He glances to the right, a tinge of worry marks his face for a second.
"Please, prepare yourselves. I will need protection."
The Shaman begins weaving elaborate runes in the air in front of himself. Each motion leaves a trail of blazing green energy in front of him. As he does so, realization crosses Kitharsis's crazed eyes from within the barrier. The entire ship shakes as Kitharsis struggles against the combined barriers. Multiple runes soon hang in the air around the barriers. The Shaman begins walking in a circle, intending to weave a web of runes along the outside of the barriers. His arms are a flurry of movement as he hurriedly, yet precisely carves out each individual rune.
He is nearly half way around before he jerks his head to the right, a look of panic paints his face.
"Please! I need more time!" He shouts, desperately.
The ship is violently struck from the direction The Shaman was looking. The Krooza heaves and rocks as the Orky technology attempts to right itself. Another strike heftier than the last nearly sends the ship sideways. The blast shield is forcefully pried open enough that two sinister looking men are able to hop through. It closes forcefully behind them.
The same energy now flowing through Kitharsis emanates from these two as well. It is easy to see that they are in control of themselves, somehow able to reign in the consuming draw of the void. They are absolutely littered with tattoos. It is hard to tell where one starts and another begins. Other than that they wear simple garb, nothing more than simple common wear.
"He intends to seal your friend away." One of them says nonchalantly, brushing some invisible dust from his broad shoulder.. "And not just until he can be cured." A smug grim accompanies the word. "Forever."
"Oh no, that's right brother." The other one, taller than his companion, says. "I do hope you know you're assisting him in destroying whoever that is in there."
"Enough!" The Shaman shouts. "There is no time for this! They are clearly tainted by the same power that has taken Kitharsis! They aim to deceive you!"
"We do not lie, you old lizard." The shorter, stouter one scoffs.
"We will be stopping you now." The taller one says, matter of factly.
And with that the seemingly thousands of tattoos on their bodies activate with dark, oppressive energy. They lunge toward The Shaman and the multiple barriers surrounding Kitharsis.
-
Gulgrim raised a broad eyebrow at the antics ongoing on his bridge. Things stood to get interesting, but he didn't know any of these gits well enough to know whose head he needed to crush.
"Wot'z yer take, spikey git?" Gulgrim asks to Soul Reaver, scratching his chin in bemusement. "'E's yer lad. We'z believin' dese new grots, or da scaly one?"
Despite his apparent air of calm, anyone with a sense for energy could tell that Gulgrim was spoiling for a fight. WAAAGH!!! energy was bubbling up within and around the Warboss, and the ground beneath him was creaking as he gained mass in anticipation for the coming brawl. No matter who the Ork's ire was directed at, they'd be getting the full brunt of Gulgrim's enthusiastic approach to combat.
-
The Seraphim turns as the two newcomers burst in and start speaking. His glowing eyes pass between then and "The Shaman" as he scowls under his helmet.
"I grow tired of machinations and mystery...."
He places himself between the newcomers and the Shaman, setting his shield in front of him as the two advance.
"Enough! (towards the newcomers) Stand fast at once! Shaman, you had best explain yourself immediately or by the Light I will cut you down where you stand. Can and will you save Kitharsis or is it as they say....you intend to imprison him forever? Speak plainly and quickly!"
-
Worry creases Danyael's brow as the two newcomers claim that the Shaman has come to seal Kitharsis away forever. But there was no doubt that these were creatures of darkness - perhaps they were indeed lying?
When the two begin to charge, Danyael's first instinct is to intersperse himself between them and Kitharsis... but Jharm has already beaten him to it. He grips the Yamato tightly, mentally preparing himself to fight should the newcomers not see reason.
-
Soul Reaver braces himself against a hefty metal beam as the krooza lists sideways and the two newcomers make their violent appearance.
He listens with narrowed eyes as the pair accuse the shaman of planning to seal Kitharsis away.
Inwardly, Soul Reaver is struck in turmoil. Soul Reaver is all too aware that Kitharsis had long been holding some manner of darkness at bay. It was a tale he was himself intimately familiar with. And he strongly suspected these newcomers had no reason to lie. Kitharsis... was his friend.
But there was no denying the risk this darkness posed. If there was a way to safely seal away the darkness he himself carried, even if meant his own demise, what would be the right and honourable thing to choose? What would happen if these newcomers took Kitharsis away?
The turmoil lasts only for the blinking of an eye, and his face shows only twitch. But it felt like years.
As the two advance, Soul Reaver looks at Jharm as he intersperses himself and makes his plea, then murmurs over his shoulder at Gulgrim.
"I believe those two. But if they don't stop now, I will make them."
Already sparks begin dripping from Soul Reaver's left hand as he whispers words of power.
-
Jihon reaches for the airlock when the entire ship lists sideways, launching him spinning out into the void of space.
"That does it!"
Blasting his maneouvering jets, Jihon rights himself, then flies with enough speed to the airlock that his triton's feet dent the metal on both sides. He wrenches the airlock open and forces his huge machine back inside.
"Now I'm getting pissed off!"
A short recompression sequence later, he storms down the metal corridors, back toward the krooza's bridge, the triton's feet clanging heavily with every step.
-
He can see the runes as they adhere to the void around him. He knows their meaning. And it is with despair that he stops and allows himself to be still.
So he has lost. The darkness has consumed him.
Another rune smacks against the void.
The spark, his spark, pierces the void. There is little left for him to do, but to do what he always has.
He begins to meditate on cleansing the darkness.
------------------------
"Its not so simple as that." The Shaman shouts. "Kitharsis as he is now is not saveable. His freedom means our doom, and the doom of many others."
"These two drink from the same vile cup. I know you can sense it too." He says. "They would use him, twist him into someone you do not recognize."
Tears begin to well up in the corner of his eyes. "But they do not lie. It is the only way."
"Why are we not taken with madness?" The stouter one asks, coyly. "Such a filthy cup must poison all who drink from it, no?"
The two dark warriors continue their advance. A series of runes trace themselves down the taller one's arms. He looks intent on cancelling the sealing spell that The Shaman was preparing.
The more stout one is headed directly toward The Shaman himself. A large tattoo on his chest illuminates before he splits into multiple copies of himself. The copies fan out and increase in speed. All looking to subdue The Shaman.
-
Gulgrim shrugged and shook his arms out at Soul Reaver's response.
"Well dat's bloody useless ain't it? Wot's da point if dere's nuffin to krump?"
The warboss was clearly growing increasingly agitated at the continued non-starter of a fight, small pieces of electronics popping and sparking in his proximity as the anticipation of violence built up within him. His voice had been louder and stronger than usual before, but now his grumbling sounded like a revving tank engine as he stamped a foot in frustration. -SOMEONE- had best start making it clear who he was to beat into the ground or he would have to take matters into his own hands and decide for himself who got to be smacked.
And it seemed like that fuse was rapidly running out of length.
-
The shaman's admission suddenly give Danyael pause. He had seen what Kitharsis was willing to do for others - he was, in his eyes, truly a hero, and someone that he would have trusted with his life.
But even so, he had to concede that these two newcomers did not look the type to have Kitharsis' best interests at heart either...
Seeing the runes on the arm of the taller of the two invaders, Danyael strengthens the barrier he has formed with a flick of his hand. And as the stouter one splits into multiples and approaches, he draws his sword into a combat-ready stance with the threatening song of steel.
-
"We have lost too many lately. Kalana....Cameron....Mary. We thought Soul Reaver was lost to us and yet he stands by us here and now. No....I refuse to accept that Kitharsis can not be saved like this, and add another name to the list of the lost. We try everything we can....and only if that all fails....then we end the threat with honor."
He scowls once more as not only do the two shadow warriors advance but Gulgrim clearly seems to be craving for bloodshed. He shifts slightly, rotating his hammer around until the top part of the head is parallel to the floor.
"I said...STAND FAST!!"
His voice resonates off the walls with power even as he slams his hammer down towards the floor of the ship as he channels Light through his arm and down into the weapon. As the sledge collides with the floor the entire room is overcome by a brilliant white flash. None are shielded from its effects by the Seraphim, whether friend or "foe", as he seeks to once more stop all parties in their tracks.
-
Soul Reaver looks over his shoulder at Jharm, and almost imperceptibly nods his head - the seraphim's words echo his own thoughts.
But just as he prepares to strike, intending to tell Gulgrim to unleash his might on the invader, Jharm's hammer strikes the ground with a blinding flash!...
-
Jihon speeds through the ship as fast as he can, his triton smashing aside the occasional orky bitz of machinery and cargo that get in his way.
He returns just in time to the viewport to get a sense of the standoff - the shaman and companions holding Kitharsis within a circle of power, and two dark figures approaching.
"Hey guys, I'm-"
Then Jharm's hammer smashes into the ground and for a moment, everything goes white!
-
The void around him shudders as he continues cleansing it, as if it was recoiling from him.
Having no physical form Kitharsis finds it incredibly easy to cleanse the darkness around him. It takes little to no effort to cleanse as much as hours, if not days of meditation would have before. He finds the purified oasis around him growing exponentially around him.
And then, sudden resistance. As if the void was pressing in on him from all sides. Kitharsis strains against it, seeking to cleanse whatever he can before he is sealed away. With the darkness weakened, it will be easier for the Shaman and his companions to be rid of it.
-------
Inside the barriers, the dark form of Kitharsis struggles against the barriers and bindings. He draws upon more and more of the dark energy, slow as it is. It is like breathing through a straw, barely enough to survive, but necessary.
When the other two Tirthandara arrive and begin distracting the Shaman and the others, Kitharsis stops struggling and goes oddly silent and still. He is finally alerted to the presence of the real Kitharsis still lingering. It is of no matter. The dark energy will consume him in time, no matter how resilient he is. Or so he thought.
As the energy begins getting purified from within he gasps. This shouldn't be possible. He is directly tied to the source. If Kitharsis begins purifying the energy now he threatens to weaken, if not destroy the Tirthandara.
Outside of the barriers, the two Tirthandara make their move, setting the companions on guard. The Shaman is distracted, preparing for an attack. The blasted Soul Reaver looks like he was going to rally them together for a counter attack. And then Jharm makes a move. A very advantageous move.
The Seraphim slams his hammer down, producing a bright, blinding flash. Now is his chance!
Even as the barriers press down on him it doesn't take an instant for Kitharsis to rise to his feet, throw his arms wide, and roar as an enormous amount of energy surges through him. The energy overflows his body as it pours out and floods the inside of the barriers. It is impossible to see through the violent mass of power coursing inside. Something large smacks into the side of the barrier before hitting the ground.
The two Tirthandara who had just arrived stop in their tracks. The multiple stout ones stand and cross their arms in front of them, and the taller one simply tosses his head back and laughs.
The energy inside the barrier subsides, and as the dust settles there are two forms within. Dark Kitharsis kneels in the center, a wicked grin planted on his face. He extends one of his arms toward a figure leaning against the side of the barrier.
The figure leaning against the side of the barrier looks exactly like Kitharsis, albeit with tan skin that reminds one of the desert sands. He is clearly disoriented, and having a difficult time bearing the force of the multiple barriers.
The Shaman, in disbelief simply mutters, "How?"
"We've had our eye on that one for a long time." One of the many stout Tirthandara says. "No one should be able to affect our power the way he does. We couldn't deal with him with you bastards hanging around. But once he gave in and stopped his little meditation act we knew he must be desperate." He chuckles, "We knew the real Tirthandara had emerged. And now it looks like you're going to seal both of them away. Tsk Tsk."
A mass of energy blooms in Dark Kitharsis's outstretched palm. It appears that he is preparing to attack the helpless other Kitharsis that has appeared.
The Shaman grits his teeth. Uncertainty wrinkles his brow. He sighs, before looking to the companions.
"Drop the barriers. But watch these two. We must save Kitharsis before he is destroyed."
The mass of energy in Dark Kitharsis's palm swells, threatening to burst and annihilate the real Kitharsis.
"Now!" The Shaman shouts as he dispels all of his runes and barrier. He lunges toward the real Kitharsis, intent on shielding him from Dark Kitharsis's attack.
-
Soul Reaver reopens his eyes just in time to see a second Kitharsis emerge within the shaman's barrier.
He is silent for a moment as the shaman and the dark Tirthandara speak. But the moment that the shaman dispels the barriers and the Dark Kitharsis begins to raise his hand in attack, Soul Reaver acts - looking over at Gulgrim, he indicates the other two Tirthandara.
"Attack them!"
Trusting Gulgrim's penchant for violence, Soul Reaver drops his runic seals and unleashes the spell he had been preparing - though not at the initially intended target. As he gestures, a narrow circle of metal around the dark Kitharsis superheats itself into a liquid state, instantly rises and closes up, then re-cools. In a matter of a couple of seconds, it has trapped the sinister twin inside a hollow cocoon of steel.
Soul Reaver knows this won't hold his foe for long. Hefting Blooddrinker, he snarls as he backs up toward the light Kitharsis, ready to defend him from whichever direction the next attack may come from.
-
'Attack them!'
And just like that, the floodgates are opened. Gulgrim's frustrated scowl instantly transitions into a manic grin, green lightning surging around him as he raises his Cybork arm, a shadow of a larger, green translucent ork arm rising up in the wake of the gesture, before he swipes the arm horizontally across, the massive spectral Ork's arm unleashing a wild haymaker aimed to swipe across both the opponent Tirthandarans and the dark Kitharsis, a huge fist the size of a small boulder sweeping everything in its path. In the aftermath, Gulgrim leaned into a firing stance, Mork's Teef (or was it Gork's Teef?) appearing in his left hand as he laid down a torrent of ballistics in the general direction of the enemy, cackling madly with the staccato of gunfire.
"Haha ha! This is what we like best!"
The Warboss was in the fray, and it wouldn't end until he was sure that he'd won.
-
(proper character exit)
It happened fast, though he'd long felt its presence since their departure from the eye. With the Eye of Terror now closed, a rift split the seams of reality with surgical precision, opening into a portal behind the Nephilim Lord. "Ilixandros." a bass voice called from the other side. Without turning, the Nephilim Lord simply stood with a sigh. The Guardian Orden had called for him. "You are needed." the voice, connected to a hooded figure of identical height to him, held a calm familiarity to its tone. Stepping forward to the glowing threshold of the portal, the shadows of the figure's hood pulled away, revealing a face exactly like Danyael's own. In fact, it was Danyael's face - one of his many echoes, in fact. "We are needed" the echo corrected.
He knew he couldn't tarry any longer in this universe, for the world of Caim Solais was more than just the headquarters of the new Guardian Orden, it was also an embassy for the Imperium Sanctus itself. And his duties stretched well beyond fighting alongside his Companions. The images flowed freely from the Echo into the Nephilim Lord, as the exchange of memories commenced anon. And in unison, both the Echo and the Nephilim Lord looked to the companions, to his dear friend Kitharsis, and bowed low in formal apology. He had to attend to the Orden's matters, though he knew he would return as soon as all tasks were tended to. "I'll return if I can." Danyael said as he stood tall, turned on a heel and stepped through without hesitation. He had faith that the situation with Kitharsis would get sorted in as best a manner as possible. And when he was able to return, perhaps he could see his comrade once again as the hero he knew him to be.
The portal snapped shut with a boom that fizzled into muted space as reality quietly mended itself back together. For now, the Nephilim Lord was off the field.
-
"So be it."
The Seraphim sets his shield in front of him, shielding Light forming around himself and his Companions as he moves in front of the Shaman to protect him from the attackers as Gulgrims giant arm and barrage of bullets turn the entire area in front of him into a potential killzone. He glances to the side slightly as Danyael suddenly disappears through a portal.
"Well...that's that then I suppose."
-
The Shaman reaches Kitharsis before Dark Kitharsis can execute his attack. A pyramid of green energy springs to life around the helpless Kitharsis and the Shaman just as Soul Reaver's molten metal trap rises around Dark Kitharsis.
Still recovering from his containment, Dark Kitharsis is caught in the metal shell quite easily. The metal creaks as he flexes against it.
"Fool." He mutters. Both he and Soul Reaver know this won't hold him for long. He goes to speak further, but is quickly cut short by a spectral green arm aimed directly at him. Dark Kitharsis grits his teeth and leans into the attack as the metal trembles around him.
The swing connects soundly, ripping the metal panel from the floor and sending Dark Kitharsis careening though the air.
"Quit messing around!" The taller Tirthandara shouts, as Dark Kitharsis sails overhead.
The stout one just shakes his head, until a giant skeletal hand manifests out of the air to catch the battered Dark Kitharsis and cushion his landing. It clutches the metal case around him and squeezes, bending and weakening the metal enough that Dark Kitharsis easily tears the rest of it away from himself. The hand disintegrates into dust behind him as he slides to the floor.
"Maybe we should keep the other one, if that's how you handle yourself." The stout one says with a smirk.
"No." The tall one says, his serious tone quickly wiping the smirk off the others face. "Now that he is separate he can finally be destroyed. It's time to get serious."
A torrent of gunfire rains down on them, punching holes into the ship around them, but harmlessly bouncing off of their thick skin.
The two new Tirthandara flare up multiple tattoos on their bodies. Those sensitive to it can feel another massive buildup of energy from both of them.
"If you step aside, we will be done with that new one in a moment." The tall one explains, yet the tone of his voice is menacing.
"I for one won't allow it!" The Shaman shouts from within the pyramid. He winces, and the barrier walls waver for a moment. It is clear he is straining past his abilities.
"Very well." The tall one barks. "Prove your worth, Kitharsis, or we may just leave you here for the trouble you've caused."
Multiple runes scrawling down the tall one's arms flare into life. He springs directly toward Jharm and his glowing shield, meaning to test the strength of the Seraphim. His arm lights up like a Christmas tree as even more runes flare to life. The well of power behind his swing his immense. He aims directly at the center of Jharm's shield.
The Stout one and his many clones turn their eyes toward Soul Reaver. They quickly maneuver to flank him, arms outstretched. Beads of energy form in their palms, before each of them fires off multiple blasts of energy. They seemingly come from all sides as the clones keep circling. The main one moves closer, looking to capitalize on the barrage to close the distance.
Chafing at the comment about leaving him behind, Dark Kitharsis clenches his fists and scowls at Gulgrim. Multiple tendrils of dark energy wrap around his arms, similar to how his old tattoos would function. He charges toward Gulgrim, swinging his arms and snapping the tendrils like whips at the big green Ork.
-
Jihon's vision returns as everything goes to hell. He sees Danyael forced to leave the companions, and Kitharsis split into two, worsening their odds significantly.
The barrels of his gatling gun waver, moving from the dark Kitharsis, to the stout Tirthandara, to the tall one, then back again, as he tries to figure out what to shoot. Then, the tall one attacks Jharm, the stout one multiplies himself to attack Soul Reaver, and the dark Kitharsis engages Gulgrim.
"Screw it!"
The gatling gun roars into life and fires a stream of bullets at the tall Tirthandara. The triton barrels forward, its beam sabre crackling into life as Jihon tries to close the distance to assist Jharm.
-
Gulgrim had his opponent, and they were so good as to come directly at him, forgoing silly things like cover or fear in the face of a beast like Gulgrim. Good. The Warboss's grin only grew at sight of a good fight approaching, and he pulled the Kaptin's Kutlass into his right hand as he charged to meet the dark Kitharsis, gun still blazing hot as green flames and arcs of emerald electricity sparked to life all around the Ork. The violent energy formed its own whipping coils of power to lash at Kitharsis's assault, sparks flying and explosions popping where the two opposed powers met while their wielders charged into melee with each other. Gulgrim didn't let up on the trigger at all during the approach, the staccato of ballistics playing counterpoint to the warring mystical powers.
But while Gulgrim was kunninly brutal, he was also brutally kunnin. As he crossed those final steps to close the distance between himself and his opponent, he raised his Kutlass high, preparing for a mighty downward swing and....Vanished. A crack of green lightning carried the Warboss from the Tirthandaran's view as he suddenly reappeared behind his opponent with a rush of displaced air, his heavy-handed chop having turned into a pointed thrust, the Kaptin's Kutlass aimed to literally stab the dark version of his ally in the back.
"Mork sez 'ello, ya spikey git!"
-
The Seraphim slides backwards at the tall ones assault, his shield held firm in front of him. Grunting he slams his hammer down into the ground and stands firm before his shield suddenly flares brightly in a blinding flash of light.
"For the Light!"
The angellic warrior surges forward, his large hammer whistling through the air as he advances on the tall Tirthandaran.
"I gave you a chance for peace, and yet you clearly refuse. I should have expected as much from wielders of Darkness!"
His eyes flare brightly as he channels Light through himself, imbuing his shield and hammer with it as he works to subdue the aggressor before him.
-
Soul Reaver finds himself surrounded by a cloned mass of his previously lone opponent. The hope that they might be illusions is dashed as they unleash a very real barrage of energy blasts from every direction.
Blooddrinker is a blur in the air, moving of its own accord as it attempts to intercept the blasts. Each projectile it impacts fizzes out harmlessly into a spray of fast-dying sparks. But there are many projectiles, and Soul Reaver is unable to completely parry them all, taking multiple hits that scorch and bloody his flesh. He backs away from the main Tirthandaran approaching him.
But his retreat is a calculated one - his backing up toward a wide metal support beam, covering his rear. And as he retreats, he murmurs a spell.
Within his chest he feels a bubbling swell of mana, crackling and surging against his ribcage. It requires immense force of will to keep it contained, concentrated, focused. His defense serves only to buy him the time needed to build it to its ultimate crescendo.
Soul Reaver claps a fist onto his chest and unleashes the power as a blue-white circular shockwave of kinetic and burning force. The beam behind him is almost split in two and the ground buckles and screeches the Shockwave's passing.
The Tirthandaran all around around him are in the direct line of fire, and none moreso than the one now almost within melee range.
-
The gatling gun fire aimed at the tall Tirthandara's flank would in most cases be very effective. Each bullet finds itself blocked by a layer of energy surrounding the Tirthandara's body. With each impact one of the runes on his upper arm blinks, as if counting each blow.
The tall Tirthandara hops backward just out of reach of Jharm's hammer once the Seraphim slams it down on the ground. The suspiciously blinking tattoo on the tall Tirthandara's shoulder grows brighter and brighter from each hit from the gatling gun, until it nearly rivals the shine of Jharm's weapons.
The tattoo was collecting the force of each blast from the gatling gun. And with a slick grin the tall Tirthandara activates it, channeling the accumulated force of each projectile through his arm and directly toward Jharm.
"Thank you for the assist."
The stout Tirthandara presses his attack, as Soul Reaver braces himself against a support beam. He nearly notices the buildup of mana too late. Before the powerful shock wave reaches him, each of his clones throws out a barrier in front of the original. The barriers do not stop the attack, but once it tears through each one the stout Tirthandara is able to withstand the blow with arms crossed in front of him.
The clones do not fare as well, as nearly all of then are destroyed from the blue-white shock wave.
The remaining few, in poor shape as they are, rush toward Soul Reaver. Their skin cracks as energy builds up inside of them, threatening to explode once they reach Soul Reaver.
Meanwhile the stout Tirthandara readies twin daggers from his belt.
Dark Kitharsis does not forget his time fight along side the Gulgrim. The camaraderie between the companions is not a sentiment he shares with his pure twin. It was simply information to use against them, at this point.
The staccato of ballistics peppers a dark swirling mass of energy encircling dark Kitharsis. He relishes the melee as opposing tendrils of energy whip and crash into each other. A blade of black crystal forms around his arm as he rises to meet Gulgrim's Kutlass. And yet it whiffs in the air as the clever Ork materializes behind him. The Kutlass threatens to literally stab him in the back.
The dark energy swirling around him reacts and clings to the Kutlass, halting its thrust enough that Kitharsis can dodge the deadly blow. Even more strands of energy wrap around the Kutlass and attempt to travel up the Warboss's arm. Dark Kitharsis spins independent of the energy and is now facing Gulgrim head on. He rears back with the black crystal blade, mimicking Gulgrim's attempted thrust. This time from the front.
The light Kitharsis still lies motionless inside the Shaman's barrier. The green pyramid wavers for a moment once again as time ticks away.
-
Ah, this opponent was worthwhile. Gulgrim's cybork arm grinds to a halt under the efforts of Kitharsis' mystic energy, and as the tendrils try to creep their way up the metal surface of his arm, the Tirthandaran turns to attempt to run the Warboss through. But as with all things combat, Gulgrim is never finished. The metal of the Cybork arm sparks and begins to vibrate as the tendrils of dark energy slink across its surface, and just before Kitharsis' thrust would pass into the range of threatening the Ork, it detonates, an explosion of WAAAGH!!! energy creating a shockwave to push the dueling entities apart, the splintered pieces of Gulgrim's recently replaced cybork arm flying in all directions, lacerating unsuspecting orks and anyone else standing too close to the battle between these two titans.
In the aftermath, Gulgrim is left standing a short distance back from his previous position, and once again in place of his Cybork arm burns a roiling mass of WAAAGH!!!fire vaguely shaped like a limb. The flames begin to burn brighter as the pitch of the battle grows more fierce, and Gulgrim holds the flaming appendage in front of his face, clenching blazing digits into a fist as his grin widens yet further.
"We'z need more o' dis. Whenever one o' yous gits turns all spikey I get a real gud fight. Can't wait for da next one ov ya ta decide you'z can't wait ta get krumped." The Warboss exclaims his excitement at the prospect of fighting yet more of his allies turned against him, as if this fight is already won and he is simply waiting for the next. Or perhaps anticipation is simply spilling out ahead of him. The thrill of the possibility causes the flames to flare up even more, concentrating a white-hot mass into his burning fist as he thrusts it forward, a condensed blast of Orkish power hot enough to burn holes through the ship he was standing on rapidly chewing through the distance between Gulgrim and Kitharsis, deck plates melting and popping in its path as it seeks its prey.
-
The destruction of the Eye of Terror had been of such a magnitude that it sent a ripple, of sorts, through the Warp that existed between universes. Perhaps a spectacular phenomenon to behold, were anyone there to witness such things. The proverbial tree that falls in the forest with none present to hear it.
But it so happened that, perhaps just this once, someone had been watching. Such an event had captivated the observer's attention, and the ripple's point of origin was quickly sought out. One dimension out of an incalculable multitude. Further scans were made - as swift as they were meticulous - and it was evident that there were still signs of intense energy readings there. Among those readings lay certain power signatures that were of the utmost interest.
After tracking these energies for so long, could their owners really be present here? There was only one way to know for certain.
Amidst the utter carnage that unfolded on the ship, a small portal tore open. One large enough for a person. Out of it stepped a slender figure clad in a suit of all-concealing armour. The figure glanced around at the scene from beneath a hood, under which a large visor glowed like molten metal... just in time to notice the massive, muscle-bound form about to barrel past it.
The newcomer just barely managed to dive out the way and avoid a thoroughly brutal krumpin', before quickly arising from the floor in readiness for the next attack. Curiously, the stranger's armour showed no signs of damage from exposure to the intense heat that radiated from Gulgrim's mighty punch. Even the cloth raiment that was worn over the armour didn't bear so much as a scorch mark.
After recovering from that near miss, the figure swiftly adopted a defensive posture. Senses both technological and supernatural swept the area, trying to take stock of the situation and keep an eye out for any immediate danger at the same time. With a subtle gesture from one of the figure's four hands, the gravity a couple or so metres around it was imperceptibly altered. Whoever were to attempt charging the armoured stranger, or fire any projectiles toward them, would find their efforts to be surely misdirected by this localised field.
-
The Seraphim finds himself launched backwards from the wave of force emitted from the tall Tirthandara, sending him flying back into the wall behind him. His large form slams into the rickety Ork metal, caving around him. Jharm grits his teeth and glares at the Tirthandara as his form starts to glow brightly.
"I am tired of this nonsense!"
Swinging his hammer with all his force he sends the weapon sailing directly at his opponent as the shield on his other arm vanishes. He then launches himself off the damaged wall behind him, flying full speed directly at the Tirthandara as bright white light flares around his fists.
-
Jihon grimaces in the cockpit as his bullets are used to fuel the tall Tirthandaran's attack and turn it on Jharm.
However, the tall Tirthandaran has failed to move out of the way of Jihon's charge. Now just a short distance from his target and wary to position himself so he won't be in the firing line of Jharm's hammer, Jihon ignites the triton's thrusters for a sudden burst of acceleration. He sends a huge metallic rising knee kick at the creature, following up with a slash from his threateningly humming beam sabre.
Were he not so engrossed in the battle, he might have noticed the warning notifications and sensor spikes appearing on his console as reality bends and collapses behind him and a new warrior enters the battlefield....
-
Soul Reaver plants his feet and hefts Blooddrinker two-handed, his eyes fixed on the stout Tirthandara. He begins to advance just as the clones come running toward him, cracks forming on their bodies as they do so.
But whenever they are just about close enough to explode, they are met by a lightning-fast thrust or slash from the crimson blade. The explosion from their bodies, rather than ripping violently outward, finds itself drained away into the hungry sword. The clones' bodies collapse and implode, leaving only ash and dust to rain through the air as the blade redirects to strike in the next direction. All the while Soul Reaver never takes his gaze from his target, closing the distance inexorably and methodically...
At least, until he senses the opening of a Warp Gate, and the arrival of a new, powerful spiritual signature. Momentarily caught off guard, Soul Reaver glances to his side to see a robed figure emerge from the Warp and barely avoid being incinerating by the barreling form of Gulgrim. The figure neatly rolls onto its feet, then with a gesture, initiates some sort of unidentifiable localized flux of energy.
Judging from its defensive posture, the figure was not expecting to arrive in the midst of a fight and was assessing its surroundings. Soul Reaver, wary that even this momentary distraction could cost him dear, shouts a warning, both physically and telepathically, in the hopes the newcomer will hear and understand one or the other.
"Traveller, take cover and get to safety! I do not wish to embroil the innocent in this fight!"
Traveller, take cover and get to safety! I do not wish to embroil the innocent in this fight!
-
At Soul Reaver's warning, the newcomer's head immediately whipped round in his direction. A warning conveyed by multiple means, expressly for getting the message across regardless of any language barrier.
It was only when the stranger's attention was focused on Soul Reaver that the realisation dawned. This swordsman was the focus of these energies that had been tracked across dimensions. Or one of them, rather. Any other recognisable signatures were as yet unaccounted for... and the midst of battle was a poor occasion to start cataloguing these findings.
The stranger then began to send back a message of its own, likewise through a telepathy of sorts so as not to risk any as-yet-unknown adversaries from overhearing. There was no voice that rang out so much as a set of words that burned themselves into Soul Reaver's mind.
You. We must speak. But first, you must survive. To this end, I will assist.
At first, the traveller went along with Soul Reaver's request, getting some distance from the chaotic battle as best as could be managed. But it had been watching him, studying his movements to determine his target. The stout Tirthandaran, if the swordsman's proximity and facing were any indicator.
When the moment of opportunity presented itself, the stranger raised one of its left hands, hurling a bolt of searing plasma in the stout Tirthandaran's direction. No sooner than the first shot was fired, the traveller was on the move, never staying in one place for too long as more were let loose. A decent screen of covering fire for Soul Reaver to take advantage of. All the while, the gravity field remained active around the caster in preparation for the inevitable retaliatory strike...
-
The stout Tirthandara didn't expect an easy win with the explosions, but having them all absorbed by a blasted sword was rather insulting. He grits his teeth as he clenches the daggers more tightly.
"Now you're copying tall boy over there. Absorbing my attackes like that sneaky bastard."
Another warp gate opens, but there weren't any reinforcements coming from the fortress. He raises an eyebrow at the newcomer, sizing him up quickly.
"It's starting to get deep in here." He mutters.
Dark Kitharsis's skin is left smoking from the explosion of Gulgrim's arm. This damned Ork was as clever as he was brutal. His searing, white-hot spectral fist thrusts toward him. Kitharsis focuses his own dark energy into a rival. Channeling the seemingly limitless well of dark energy coursing through him. The two spectral fists crash into each other, each trading advantage. It appears to be a stalemate, for now.
The tall Tirthandara materializes a thick, spiked shield on his arm. He swings wildly at Jharm's hammer, attempting to bat it away. The blow is more solid than expected. And while he does deflect Jharm's hammer, he is thrown off balance long enough for Jihon's thruster assisted rising knee to connect. No tattoo blinks from the attack. And the Tall Tirthandara barely has time to flare up a string of tattoos on his arm before blocking the slash from the beam sabre.
The stout Tirthandara surveys the battle, counting themselves outnumbered by exceptionally skilled foes. The task was done. That pure piss ant was disconnected from source. And while they weren't able to destroy him and his companions at the same time, their day would come.
A bolt of searing plasma comes toward him as he deliberates. He bats it away with a glowing fist. It stings more than it should. Even this newcomer was formidable.
"Right, it's past our bedtime string bean. Time to move along." The stout one shouts.
"Easier said than done!" The tall one responds, standing flanked between Jharm and Jihon.
"Fine, I'll request a snatch."
A tattoo of a lone symbol activates on the stout Tirthandara's back. In a few seconds multiple warp gates open behind the three Tirthandara. Multiple dark strands of energy wrap around the stout one, the tall one, and Dark Kitharsis.
"We'll be seeing you." The stout one says, blowing a kiss, before the tendrils yank each of them through the warp. The gates snap shut quickly behind them.
The instant the Tirthandara leave, the Shaman falls to his knees. The green barrier falls away, leaving he and the new, tan Kitharsis defenseless.
"I've failed." He says. "But not entirely. At least I've saved a piece of him. The other will need to be dealt with. They all will."
He sits back, looking toward the remaining Kitharsis. "He will be fine. The goodness of the Kitharsis you know lives on." He furrows his brow. "Whatever you were fighting must have been dire to push him so far. I'm sorry you all are forced to fight and struggle so, but that is part of our duty."
"I'm sorry." He says, bowing his head.
-
Gulgrim huffs in annoyance as his opponent quits the battlefield, the roaring blast of WAAAGH!!! energy barreling past and crashing through several probably important bits of machinery and computers. Grots quickly swarmed the area and began to slap the pieces back together while the Warboss stood, the flaming fist in place of his cybork arm snuffing out, leaving the Ork looking oddly lopsided.
"Feh. Stupid gits always runnin' away when da fight gets gud." Gulgrim's disappointment was palpable as his voice calmed to its usual booming presence, but he turned to look at the rest of the companions even as he stomped over to a nearby computer console and began inputting commands. "You lot still in one piece? Feh. Dem uvver grots must not'a been dat tough. Dunno why tall lad's spikey 'alf would wanna join up wif 'em."
As he input commands into the console while talking, there was the sound of gears turning and chains rattling as a door to one side began to open, revealing one of several Mek workshops Gulgrim has throughout his krooza. As the others reconvened, the Warboss entered the shop and began to get to work tinkering, likely to replace his arm once again.
-
Jharm's fist, suffused with holy light, is moments from pounding the tall tirthandara's face in when he is suddenly snared by tendrils of energy and pulled through an unexpected Warp Gate. Its target vanishing at the last moment, the punch goes through thin air for a split second before cleanly shearing yet another massive metal beam in half.
Though the enemy escaped, Jharm feels relief at this sight of Kitharsis still there. He glances quickly at the strange figure of the newcomer but senses no evil or hostility there - that introduction was important but could wait for now. Giving a nod of thanks to Jihon, he quickly walks toward the shaman and his friend.
The tone of the Shaman's words don't escape him. He crouches down near Kitharsis and the shaman.
His voice is gentle and conveys his care and concern: "how is he?"
-
The beam sabre hisses and sizzles against the tall tirthandara's arm, Jihon gritting his teeth as he increases its power output and braces the triton's feet.
Then suddenly the resistance disappears as his foe is snatched away into a Warp Gate. The unexpected change in the center of gravity throws Jihon's triton off-balance, and it slams hard and gracelessly into a nearby generator. The wonky orkish contraption detonates with a deafening boom and an electrical crackle that surges through the Triton's systems several lights and panels in the cockpit go dark.
Inside the Triton warning light goes off as a safety interlock overloads. With a whirr and a hiss, the cockpit to the Triton opens a small crack. Jihon doesn't notice, his eyes instead fixed grimly on another warning indicator.
Damn. Only a few minutes left at best...
Jihon leverages his Triton back onto its feet, turning off the beam sabre and holstering it, before putting his hands on his hips.
In a cheerful tone he says, "sorry about that, hope that thing wasn't powering anything too important".
A trickle of blood flows through the open crack of the Triton's cockpit and begins to drip to the floor...
-
Soul Reaver's aggressive stance drops almost the instant that all three of the dark Tirthandara make their sudden exit. He scowls, but has more important things to worry about now.
His gaze goes from Kitharsis to the newcomer and back. After a moment's hesitation, he makes his way toward Kitharsis, though without taking his eyes off the robed figure. He sends another message his way.
Thank you for your assistance. Right now I must look to my companion. We will talk soon.
Soul Reaver joins Jharm. He glances at Kitharsis and the shaman as Jharm asks the same question he would have asked: "how is he?"
-
With the enemy's retreat, the newcomer's posture relaxed somewhat. As it became apparent that no counterattack would be forthcoming, so too did the aura of gravitic distortion cease. A curt nod was given in Soul Reaver's direction as he sent another telepathic message, leaving the robed figure to its own devices for the time being. In quite an... unusually chaotic locale.
It was clearly some manner of facility or starship, with seemingly everything right down to the deck panels arranged in an alarmingly ramshackle fashion. And despite this, it all seemed to work just fine. Or fine enough, perhaps. This couldn't have all been down to collateral damage from the battle. Had it always been like this?
A detailed analysis of the surroundings could come later. For now, the stranger's attention was drawn to another of Soul Reaver's compatriots, this one a mighty war machine made of unquestionably un-Orkish technology. The machine was battered and broken, and whatever creature piloting it wasn't fairing much better if the trickle of blood was anything to go by. There was very little the stranger could do for the latter - organic beings were typically easier to replace than repair - but for the mech itself? So very much more.
The stranger approached the Triton, carefully scrutinising it from every angle, taking note of both the damage and how it was constructed. Some elements may require synthesising, but on the whole it seemed repairable. The figure said nothing as it raised its four arms, palms outstretched and pointed toward the now-ruined generator. Such a convenient source of spare matter for base metals would not go to waste. From each hand came a ray of golden light, dissolving the wreckage in its glow with surprising speed. By the end, there was only a neat, clear space where the generator once stood.
Soon after, the Triton was bathed in that same light. The only difference was what happened next. Cracks in the armour flowed shut as if they were liquid, while dents realigned themselves to their original shape. The repairs extended as far as the machine's internals, progressing faster than a team of mechanics could manage. There was only the occasional pause while the figure would walk around the Triton to get a better angle. The more complex internal components were slower going, requiring the synthesis of the proper materials along with the knowledge of how it all fit together. Nevertheless, the stranger persevered in its efforts.
-
A gentle breeze, full of warmth, wanders through the Krooza. It circles the bridge before washing over The Shaman and Kitharsis in a rush. Kitharsis opens his eyes.
With a slight grunt, he sits up while rubbing his head. His once rigid mohawk lies against his head, flowing more freely. His once light grey skin now tan and more vibrant than before.
He looks to Jharm, Soul Reaver, then The Shaman. Kitharsis smiles, relieved to see his friends once more. But the joy quickly fades, as he realizes the trouble he has caused them.
"I owe you all an apology." He attempts to stand, but wobbly legs betray his intentions. He lets loose a large sigh as he sits back.
The Shaman shakes his head.
"You failed in your duty." He says, solemnly. "You swore to never succumb to that evil. And yet here we are."
The Shaman gestures to Jharm and Soul Reaver. "If not for them you, this you would have been destroyed also. They still wanted you destroyed even after separating you from their Source."
Kitharsis rubs his chin, his eyes distant.
"It's like waking up after a terrible dream." He frowns, "No, not a dream. There was a fog, a sludge surrounding me for so long." He looks to The Shaman. "It was inevitable. I was slowly drowning in that evil. It's like I'm taking the first breath of fresh air since my transformation."
The Shaman simply nods. "I did not foresee this outcome. I believed in your strength, but nothing like this. I still can't fathom what happened here."
"I am released of my chains." Kitharsis says, simply. "But I now know there are other Tirthandara in the multiverse. My quest to cleanse the Source remains. I may be cut off from it, but if I can reach it some day I know I can purge this evil once and for all."
The Shaman rises to his feet, his strength returning. "Then your path is clear. You must continue on your quest. And you must discover your strength."
The Shaman looks to Jharm and Soul Reaver. "If you will have him, I will allow him to continue to travel with you. He will do no good sitting around in a shack in the desert."
Kitharsis stands, reaching his full height. He dons the tatters of a rugged cloak. His equipment long gone. Likely destroyed during the separation inside the barrier.
"Please allow me to atone. I was overcome by the god of Chaos, and my weakness has caused you all trouble." He bows his head. "I still need to recover, but I do feel some remnants of power."
The Shaman clears his throat abruptly, before either of them can respond. "Regardless, I must return. I was in the middle of a transcendence ceremony before I was alerted. I am in your debt, all of you. I am at your disposal if you ever need my assistance. May we meet again." With a quick bow, The Shaman activates a relic he produced from somewhere. A warp gate opens behind him, and he deftly hops backwards into it before it snaps shut.
-
The Seraphim watches silently as Kitharsis rises and he and The Shaman converse.
The Shaman looks to Jharm and Soul Reaver. "If you will have him, I will allow him to continue to travel with you. He will do no good sitting around in a shack in the desert."
Kitharsis stands, reaching his full height. He dons the tatters of a rugged cloak. His equipment long gone. Likely destroyed during the separation inside the barrier.
"Please allow me to atone. I was overcome by the god of Chaos, and my weakness has caused you all trouble." He bows his head. "I still need to recover, but I do feel some remnants of power."
Lowering his weapon, the heavy sledgehammer thumping as the top of its head rests on the floor of the Krooza he gazes between the two before the Shaman speaks once more and hastily departs.
"You are one of the Companions, I see no reason for you to no longer fight alongside us, though I am assuming as you are no longer "chained" we can safely accept that something like this will not be happening again. We have faced much recently and with the disappearance of both Mary and Cameron, as well as the rather sudden....departure of Danyael...I think it would be quite problematic if we must expect further...strife amongst our own ranks. Speaking of disappearances and departures though...."
The large armored figure turns and looks towards the newcomer as the being seems to finish repairing the Triton.
"While it may be a bit forward, recent events I think dictate that directness would be best. Who are you, why are you here, and perhaps most importantly....how do we know we can trust?"
Jharms tone while quite blunt, does not bear any hint of a threat or accusation, his glowing eyes calmly remaining focused on the strange four-armed individual. His arms hang loosely at his side, though his hand is still certainly close enough to the shaft of his weapon to grab it if the stranger suddenly decides to reveal some sort of hostile intent.
-
Kitharsis nods at Jharm's acceptance, fatigue marking his face.
"I feel no pressure from that darkness, not even a lingering reminder of how it felt. I am renewed." He says, as his legs begin to wobble.
He can't help but chortle at the statement, considering.
"Renewed in spirit, perhaps." He says, as he eases his way to sit down. "For now I need some rest."
Kitharsis looks meaningfully at the newcomer.
"I do hope he is friendly."
-
Just as it was finishing with the repairs, the newcomer had registered that it had now become a focus of attention. Naturally, they would be wary of an unknown lingerer in the wake of a hectic battle. It would only be proper to allay their concerns. The four-armed stranger turned to address Jharm, and by extension the others present, placing a right hand on its chest and giving a slight bow.
"I am Phaerys, eternal servant of Xel-Atar." The figure spoke aloud in a clear, even tone with the distinct, slightly metallic timbre of a synthesised voice. And - as Soul Reaver would probably note - far more eloquently than the previous telepathic communication. "As to my purpose here, I have traversed the Spans Between in search of similar dimensional travellers. It appears I have been successful. This is most promising."
Phaerys' head turned ever so slightly as his gaze alighted from one Companion to the next, taking in each of their disparate appearances and armaments. One couldn't help but wonder what distant dimensions they may have hailed from.
"I would likewise ask of your purpose here," Phaerys suddenly spoke up once more. "It is true that the Spans Between pose many dangers, but these weapons... Tell me, are you explorers, or are you conquerors?" He further scrutinised the group while awaiting an answer, evaluating the chances of getting out alive should things take a turn for the worst.
-
Soul Reaver watches with quiet relief as Kitharsis rises and speaks. His spiritual signature is... changed. A lot has happened to him.
"It is good to see you on your feet again, Kitharsis. And I would wholeheartedly welcome you to our side once more."
Ruefully, he adds, "Indeed, I must trust that our efforts and sacrifices may earn us a measure of redemption."
He then turns to face Phaerys as he introduces himself. So far the being has not given any reason to mistrust him, and Soul Reaver owed him courtesy. He steps forward and gives a small bow.
"I go by the name of Soul Reaver. I am no conqueror. And while my travels have taken me to many corners of the multiverse, perhaps 'explorer' is not entirely accurate either. I would prefer to consider myself a protector or guardian. I seek to uphold justice and honour wherever they threaten to be lost. I fight for those who have no one else to champion them, and combat the threats that others cannot.
I fear this means that you will often find me amidst conflict or violence... as you have no doubt just witnessed. My apologies for the unpleasant nature of our first meeting."
He raises an eyebrow quizzically.
"Unfortunately I am ignorant of 'Xel-Atar' - perhaps you could enlighten us? And now that you have found other Warp Travelers - or perhaps I should say, Travelers of the 'Spans Between' - what is the next step in your quest?"
-
Jihon is momentarily taken aback as Phaerys manipulates the Triton in some way, bathing it in light. But he is impressed when suddenly a number of the warning messages on his self-monitoring systems blink out. The diagnostics show that his machine has been repaired to almost as good as new - and by someone who, by all rights and purposes, should have no idea of how it was put together.
Raising a mechanical hand, he simply says, "thanks, man!"
He watches on quietly as a now-tan Kitharsis rises and he and the Shaman ask if the Companions would allow him to rejoin them. Gesturing with an outstretched finger, as though lecturing a child, he responds with, "Look, I don't want to speak for the others, but I'd be damn surprised if anyone said no."
He then walks up near Soul Reaver, waiting to see what the newcomer has to say... and, his eye wandering to the one still-flashing warning indicator, quietly hoping he would not have to interrupt before this conversation was done...
-
Phaerys quietly considered Soul Reaver's own introduction, satisfied with the answer that neither he nor the other Companions were hostile. Of course, after both parties had introduced themselves, Soul Reaver had questions of his own. Questions that Phaerys was willing to answer.
"Xel-Atar is the origin. From its light, each Ataran is wrought into being. In so doing, we are granted purpose. With purpose, we serve eternal. That is the will of Xel-Atar." The words were spoken like a mantra. One that Phaerys apparently deemed sufficient in answering who or what this Xel-Atar was. There were other answers yet to give, however. A matter that Phaerys appeared to spend several moments deliberating on before divulging.
"Know that I did not traverse the Spans Between alone. Not originally. There were others, from which I had been separated by means unknown, during our first excursion to another plane. It is likely they were each isolated as I was. Your existence - proof of other dimensional travellers - indicates a small but present possibility that they may be found."
The Ataran leaned to one side slightly, peering at the others once again - Kitharsis in particular - and making note of his similarities to the beings that had been driven off mere minutes ago. Perhaps something that merited further study, should the opportunity present itself.
Phaerys soon turned back to face Soul Reaver as he added, "I would ask the same of yourselves - to where are you bound from here, if not the site of your next battle?"
-
"Xel-Atar." Kitharsis says slowly, considering the word.
"I have not heard of such place." He pauses, studying Phaerys for a moment. He senses a warmth about this being. Certainly he can handle himself, yet he doesn't feel any ill will from him. A curiosity.
"Quite frankly, I have no idea where we go next. A few moments ago I wasn't certain that I existed." He pulls his tattered cloak around him a little closer. "I could use some new clothes, wherever we end up."
"Do you intend to join us?" He asks.
-
As the group discussed matters further, Orks milled about repairing, or in most cases, slapping fresh scrap over, the damage dealt by the brawl that had previously broken out on the bridge. The blast shields over the bridge windows were raised after a particularly kunnin' mek used his plasma kutter to melt a chunk of shattered glass back into place over the hole that had been punched through, creating a messy-looking seal that likely wouldn't have held if not for sheer Ork thick-headedness winning the day over reality. Occasionally individual Orks seemed like they were about to start violently objecting to the existence of Non-Orks on the bridge, but one of Gulgrim's Nobs would invariably smack the upstart git upside the head, often with a power klaw, which had a habit of permanently silencing such insubordination.
After a few minutes, the Warboss himself returned from his workshop, a shiny new cybork arm having taken the place of his previous in far too little time for anyone but an Ork to have put together a new cybernetic graft and seated it in place. The Avatar of Gork and Mork adjusted his oversized Kaptin's hat with his new hand and looked over the assembled group of non-Orks, seeming to already lump the newcomer in with everyone else.
"Alright den." Gulgrim's voice booms. "If you'z goin anywhere on my krooza, da next stop bettah have some gud fightin'. We'z just 'ad a gud win, an' a decent intermishun scrap, but can't go too long wivvout a propa dustup or me boyz'll get antsy. So. Where to?"
-
The Seraphim listens in silence as his Companions speaking to the newcomer and this "Phaerys" responds in kind.
"I would ask the same of yourselves - to where are you bound from here, if not the site of your next battle?"
Jharm seems about to respond when he suddenly perks up slightly and turns to seemingly gaze off in a direction, though he faces directly at a wall.
I sense....something....familiar. That can't be possible. The rest of the Seraph forces retreated home long ago and I have not sensed any presence of the Light since before the explosive demise of that Chaos entity. I do not understand....
=====Far across the Imperial plane=====
A Warp portal tears open in space and a small ship exits from it before the portal snaps shut. The vessel floats slowly through space as an array of sensors both technological and magical scan out widely. Within the command deck of the ship a single figure rises from the pilots seat and gazes out through the large viewport in front of her
"Another failure I have no doubt. Looks just like every other---"
Wait! I sense something. It's...very very faint, but I can sense that it currently dwells in this universe.
And? Is this something of import?
I....think so. I can't explain it but...something about it feels very familiar to me. This is the first time I have felt such a thing since we met. This universe does not feel like the one I am searching for...but the source of this power I feel...we must find. I just know it.
Well then...I suppose we can try---
Her inner thoughts are disrupted as rather large vessels begin to close in on the ship and suddenly an incoming message begins to blare through the speakers. Waving a hand over the nearby console the previously unintelligible words become understandable
"Attention unknown vessel. You have entered Imperial space. Identify yourself immediately or else you will be boarded or destroyed."
"Well gorram it all. This...could make things a bit problematic. I have no idea who these "Imperials" are but these ships of theirs are certainly quite large and seem to be rather heavily armed.
"I detect numerous armaments targetting us. What are your plans?"
"Well I certainly have no intention of letting some unknown species board and start poking around or anything like that. At the same time I highly doubt we can match these large ships in power. That leaves one option."
"Haul ass back home asap."
"Naturally."
Wait, what about the source of power I am sensing?!?
It doesn't matter much right now, we can return in a little while and try to search further. I doubt we will be able to search very well at all with these Imperials right behind us.
She looks up towards the speakers as she slips back down into the pilots seat.
"Engage the engines and power up the Warp crystal and get us the gorram hell out of here!"
The ships engine flares to life as a large crystal deep in the ship pulses heavily. A few moments later a Warp portal rips open in front of the ship, its engine launching it through the portal just as the Imperial warships open fire, on the now empty space.
============Back on the Ork Kruiser============
Jharm looks around slightly as he senses the faint power he had detected suddenly vanish. Turning back towards the others he finally responds to the newcomers inquiry.
"I can not speak for the others but our efforts in the Eye cost my people greatly and I must return to ensure defenses are maintained as we must rebuild our forces lest Darkness sense a moment of weakness and try to push against us."
-
Soul Reaver listens to Jharm's response, nodding almost imperceptibly, before turning back to Phaerys.
"A good question. The multiverse is vast and there is no shortage of places that need aid. I will go to wherever I am needed."
He thinks for a moment. The newcomer, Phaerys, seemed to be no threat to the companions. He also seemed intelligent and powerful enough to take care of himself, but at the same time seemed new - almost naive - to the multiverse. Perhaps it would be best to keep him close, to keep him from unwittingly straying into harms way... and to assess whether Soul Reaver's assessment of his disposition really was correct.
"You may join me if you wish. I have traveled the Warp for a long time now and though I have not come across others like you, I would be glad to share what knowledge I do have... and perhaps you will find leads during the journey that could help you find them. It may be better than wandering aimlessly... though I must warn you that conflict will be frequent."
He then turns to Gulgrim. The Ork was volatile and thirsty for battle. While he was a great asset when there was a massive fight to be had - and he could be pointed in the right direction - he likely wouldn't take well to Soul Reaver's wanderings and would make non-violent solutions difficult to pursue.
"I will likely leave your Krooza soon. But maybe hold onto this..."
He reaches into his infinity pouch and throws a small obsidian ball for Gulgrim to catch.
"...it will let me find you and let you know if I run into a big enough fight. Or should things ever get so out of hand that you require assistance - though I know that's unlikely - just smash it, and I will come."
Soul Reaver looks out the viewport at the stars.
"If I'm not mistaken there should be some pretty good fights to be had even here. We ran into an attempted Tyranid incursion when we were at Cellaris V. We destroyed the hive tyrant leading them and the forces on the ground, but the rest of their swarm must still be around...?"
He turns around to face Jharm.
"I understand that your home calls for you. I know you have the means to find me, so should you ever need my help: know that you will have it.
Speaking of which..."
He turns to face Jihon.
"It is good to see you again, old friend. You arrived just as in..."
Soul Reaver's voice fades as his eyes go to the red streak of fresh blood staining the Triton's leg.
Moving lightning fast, Soul Reaver leaps onto the Triton, places two fingers on the cockpit door, and speaks the words of an Open spell. With a hiss, it opens...
-
As the cockpit hatch opens wide, a fresh splash of blood pours down onto the Triton.
Within, Jihon is strapped into the pilot's seat. His torso, legs and arms are badly lacerated and bleeding heavily, to the point where his boots and the bottom of the cockpit are filled with blood.
He looks sheepish.
"Uh, I kinda didn't want you all to see that before I had to go..."
Soul Reaver frowns.
"What foolishness! What is going on?!"
Soul Reaver begins casting healing magic on Jihon. While it is not his forte, the bleeding seems to lessen. In the meantime, Jihon glances at his readouts, then starts to explain.
"Look, I've been fighting Balok in the Warp Tumor for a long time. I think I've been doing a good job..."
He is interrupted as he coughs up a glob of blood.
"...sorry. A pretty good job of keeping him contained. Remember, I can't die while he's still alive. I was going to keep at it, but then I felt that Cameron was going up again Chaos itself...
I couldn't do nothing. I had to stand with him for that battle. So I used one of my stored Tritons and rigged it with a device to temporarily let me out of the seal. Long enough to help you guys. But, er..."
He glances at the readouts again.
"It's almost out of juice now. Once it runs dry, I'll snap back to where I was. It's much safer this way though - this way I don't actually break open the seal."
Soul Reaver looks at Jihon with concern.
"Do you need us?"
Jihon shakes his head vigorously.
"No! Just like I said to you last time - I'll let you know when I need you guys, and that time isn't now. I need to return - I can't afford to leave Balok to his own devices any longer than I already have. There'll probably be hell to pay when I get back, but... I wanted to be there to help Cameron finish what he started.
I wish he was here. You know, so I could have given him a high five."
-
Phaerys looked to the others in turn as they each gave their answers for where they were headed next. Some had to part ways and attend to their own affairs, while others sought new battles like the one they had just endured. Kitharsis and Soul Reaver in particular offered Phaerys the suggestion of joining them. It would be a path fraught with danger, but altogether safer than travelling alone.
Before the Ataran could give an answer to this invitation, however, something urgent had caught Soul Reaver's attention. The being within the mechanical suit - Jihon - turned out to be in a truly dire condition. That much blood on the outside of these creatures was never a promising sign. Phaerys could only stand aside and observe the exchange between the two. The finer details of the exchange were lost on Phaerys, but he at least had a general understanding of it. A parting of the ways, with no guarantee they would meet again.
A faint note of sympathy stirred within him. At least they had the chance to say farewell. With that in mind, Phaerys approached Jihon to offer some parting words of his own.
"While I know nothing of what threat you speak of, nor do I know if we shall ever speak again, I can only hope that the repairs I have affected will suffice against whatever awaits you."
To Soul Reaver he added, "I am aware that continually traversing the Spans Between will inevitably lead to conflict, intentional or otherwise. Thus, your company would be welcome. Though I am not a warrior, I am far from defenceless."
-
Jihon, within his Triton, was a bloody mess. Kitharsis felt a deep guilt for having caused his last moments outside of the Warp Tumor to be in conflict.
He approached the Triton with careful footsteps, his strength still barely returned.
“I’m sorry for causing trouble, Jihon. I would have wished you more time in peace outside of the Warp Tumor.”
He sighs, “I wish you strength in your fight in the Warp Tumor. I owe you for your assistance here. Call on me and I will help however I can.”
With that Kitharsis backs away and finds something to lean against. He pulls his tattered cloak about him as Phaerys voices his intention to travel with them.
“You are welcome, Phaerys. As Soul Reaver mentioned, we rarely travel to safety. Quite the contrary.”
He looks away, solemnly. “Sometimes we aren’t even safe from ourselves.”
-
The Seraph looks over at the Triton as Soul Reaver suddenly leaps onto it and pops the hatch open, revealing a rather bloody Jihon. Moving closer, Jharm extends a hand to aid his healing powers to the efforts of Soul Reaver as he listens to what Jihon as to say. Once they are done he crosses his arms in front of his chest and nods.
"When the time comes, I will do all I can to help you Jihon."
He leans in and claps a gauntleted hand on the mans shoulder and gives it a friendly squeeze.
"May the Light watch over you in the meantime."
He then stands back up and steps back a few paces.
-
Gulgrim catches the obsidian sphere tossed to him almost without paying attention, the object appearing minuscule in his gargantuan green mitt. He turned it over between two fingers as he looked over everyone arrayed before him. "Hmph." The warboss snorted, both amused and bemused by the arrangement of random non-orks he'd just spent the past who knows how long fighting alongside. "If none uv ya got a place ya need me ta take ya, I'll start directin' the ship myself. Gotta be good lootin' and scrappin' somewhere 'round 'ere. Any o' you wot wantz it ken tag along if ya like, an' maybe I'z ken 'elp take ya where ya need ta go, an' 'elp krump any gits wot fink dey can scrap wif Gulgrim's....uh...What's da word?" Gulgrim seemed genuinely perplexed for a moment, as if this bit of the common galactic language was one he hadn't used in ages. "Oh right, dat's it. Allies."
With a gruff nod, the Ork turned and stomped over to the command throne of the Kill Krooza Infinite WAAAAGH!!!!!. Laying his massive Orky chin into his Cybork right hand, the Warboss looked across the bridge as the last repairs were being completed to get the bridge fully operational again. Extending his green left hand, still holding the obsidian sphere, he bellowed the order to his krew. "Bring me to da next fight lads. Let's get movin'!"
With a bellowing rumble, the massive engines of the Kill Krooza began to burst to life once more, and WAAAGH!!! Gulgrim and its passengers began to power through space once more.
-
Soul Reaver listens grimly to Jihon as he explains his predicament, giving an almost imperceptible nod when Jihon mentions how he wanted to help Cameron finish what he started.
"I understand, Jihon. Do what honour demands of you. And know that when I next see him, I will let Cameron know of your deeds."
With Jharm's assistance, the worst of Jihon's wounds are swiftly healed. Soul Reaver stops his own healing and clasps Jihon by the forearm, managing a faint smile.
"Go, and bring your fury with you. When you need us, we will be there."
-
Jihon looks the others over as the warnings become more insistent.
"Kith, honestly, it wouldn't be the same if I came back and we weren't fighting some crazed bad guy. Or each other. Or both at the same time."
He gives a smile at Jharm and Soul Reaver.
"Thank you both. I know I can always count on you two."
He then gives Phaerys a wave.
"And thank you too, new guy. This thing was getting pretty beat up. Those repairs will definitely help. And good luck with your own quest!"
He looks at the readout ruefully.
"I think that's it, everyone. My Triton's repaired and I'm all healed up. Time to head back to the Warp Tumor and face Balok again."
He cracks his neck and grins.
"He won't stand a snowball's chance in hell!"
Then there is a sudden deep 'pop' as reality seems to implode inward for a moment, distorting the surroundings like an intense gravity lens and sending a sickening feeling into the stomachs of all nearby, before everything returns to normal... and Jihon is gone without a trace.
-
For a few seconds, Soul Reaver's gaze lingers on the empty space where Jihon stood, before he turns to Phaerys and responds to him.
"Then let us travel together for a time. It would be an honour to have you accompanying me while I go about my duty, and I would be glad to explain what I know about the places and peoples we will meet."
As the Krooza lurches back into motion, Soul Reaver looks decidedly uncomfortable.
"I dislike these contraptions," he murmurs to himself.
He looks over to Kitharsis and Jharm.
"Jharm, good luck. Kitharsis, I would be happy for you to join me if you feel there might be strength in numbers if your... brothers return unexpectedly. But I understand you may need time to center yourself now."
He hands each of them a small, blade-like sliver of obsidian.
"I know both of you have ways of finding me if you need me, but if it is urgent and you need me immediately, snap these in half."
Soul Reaver draws Blooddrinker - the edges of the blade sharpen themsleves at Soul Reaver's mental command until it is sharp enough to cleave reality itself, the edges glimmering red with traces of Warp energy. With a swing, he cuts a ragged hole into the fabric of the Plane, which yawns open into the swirling Warp. Silhouetted in eerie crimson, he stands upon its threshold, waiting for Phaerys and to see if Kitharsis will join him too.
-
Kitharsis chuckles at Jihon's remark about the volatility of the group. Jihon's levity relieves some of the guilt weighing on Kitharsis's conscience. The brief exchange reminds him of days past, and he is thankful for it.
Jihon and his Triton's departure cause his stomach to flip, rousing him from his leaning position. Kitharsis is regaining his strength, thankfully.
After Soul Reaver offers they travel together, he hands him a small sliver of obsidian while explaining its purpose. Kitharsis holds it in his hand, considering it. There are no runes evident on its surface. But then again, Soul Reaver's ways were a bit of a mystery to him at times.
"Similar to some of my infused runic devices, I assume."
Kitharsis reaches down for a pouch at his non-existent belt. With a frown, he searches the tattered cloak for a surviving pocket. Finding nothing suitable, he simply closes his hand around the piece of obsidian and shakes his head.
As Soul Reaver slices open a Warp gate Kitharsis steps backward with uncertainty. Typically he would have drawn upon the cleansed energy to shield him from the unstable forces of the Warp. He could have even activated one of the many relics in his belt pouches. Having none of them at his disposal, and barely a moment to assess his current powers, he finds himself at a loss.
"I would join you, but I presently find myself ill equipped to navigate the Warp. Might you spare a shield for me during the journey?"
He tugs at the tattered cloak, accidentally tearing out a few more seams than before.
"And perhaps, if we could find some new equipment for me, I would be much obliged."
-
Soul Reaver notes Kitharsis predicatment before responding.
"I am glad to hear you're coming along"
As Kitharsis approaches the Warp Gate, Soul Reaver opens his Infinity Pouch and pulls out a large, grey hooded travelling cloak, which he hands over to Kitharsis. Despite being rather voluminous, it still looks a little small on Kitharsis.
"Apologies, but it's the largest one I have. There are pockets sown into the inside."
He briefly glances back at the Warp Gate.
"I can supply you with a Warp Shield for the journey. Perhaps our first stop should be one of the shopping bazaars on Dinlete - the selection is unsurpassed..." he looks over to Phaerys "...and the sights, smells and crowds are something to behold."
-
A simple nod of acknowledgement was Phaerys' sole reply to Jihon's thanks. There was little else that needed to be said on the matter. He continued to watch Jihon until the man and his machine were yanked back to whatever dimension this 'Balok' resided in. The data recorded from witnessing Jihon's disappearance would be processed in due course.
Among those who remained, there were others who had their own affairs to attend to. While they too would part ways, it was not before Soul Reaver had given them some means to rapidly reconvene should it be necessary.
Would that the Coven had possessed such conveniences...
Phaerys watched as Soul Reaver sliced open a rift with the greatsword he carried. Perhaps a crude version of the process Phaerys was familiar with, but it seemed effective nonetheless. He stepped up to join the swordsman, as did Kitharsis who had elected to accompany them. And who barely had much more than the tattered clothes on his back, from the look of him. Something a little shopping spree would do well to alleviate.
"If this bazaar is as unsurpassed as you say, it would be remiss of me not to join you," Phaerys said to Soul Reaver. Perhaps it may even turn up a lead on one of the Coven's whereabouts, he thought to himself. A small chance that was worth taking if anyone in Dinlete was familiar with dimensional travellers.
The Ataran's gaze then fell upon Kitharsis. An ill-fitting cloak was only a small step up from one that was falling apart at the seams. "As for yourself, should you find our destination unable to suit your needs, then you shall have my assistance. I may not be a warrior like yourselves, but my capabilities lie elsewhere: Sorcerer. Artificer. Blacksmith. I am all of these, and far more."
Phaerys stepped towards the Warp gate, ready and waiting for Soul Reaver and Kitharsis' lead. In all the times he had made this journey between dimensions, only once had it been a group undertaking. Until now. In the wake of that previous, ill-fated event, there was some trepidation to be felt, however slight. But this time alongside it, there was hope in equal measure.
"...I shall look forward to working with the both of you. May Xel-Atar light our path."
-
The Seraphim watches as his three companions prepare to depart, Soul Reaver rending a portal in the air. Turning away he extends a hand and a shimmering white portal manifests. Looking back at the others he nods
“Til next we meet.”
With that he steps through and the portal snaps shut.