The Administorum
Battle Related Forums => Board Battles => Board Battle Archives => Topic started by: Cameron on January 27, 2015, 01:14:56 PM
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The previous thread was closed for length. Here is the last post from the previous thread.
Focus less on the blade and more on the wielder. If he cannot move, then he cannot move the blade. He has spells of binding and haste. He has powers of summoning.
He heard Danyael's voice in the din as he sat at the edge of the combat. Sepher watched, Gauging, as soul's wings were sheared from his back. Control the battlefield. This was necessary. He finally seemed to notice the ichor raining down upon them. He threw some chaotic energy into the air swirling, deflecting the ichor enough so that it was not dumping on his head.
He watched, frowning as his spell seems to just wash over the guantlets and sword, but shatter what was left of the torso armor. Fortunately, his companions would gain a boon to their arms and armor such that no smith could ever forge the same. He clenched a fist and the spell settled in, allowing him to focus on other things.
As the bright crimson energy flashes out from soul, Sepher, being quite far away, throw's out his hand as if to block it, but instead, sucks the essence of the energy out, redirecting it into the start of his own spell just as a 5 meter explosion rocked the ground beyond him. He crouched, but was fortunately out of the range as a wave of debris roiled past. Waving his hand, dust and debris from in front of him is smacked away as he throws his hand out, just as Jharm's song begins, bolstering his efforts.
There was a moment of silence, before a loud crack and flash of light as a rift is torn open to another world. 6 bright silver and crimson shapes dart out as the energies crash shut, stranding the newly summoned wind daemons in this place. 6 Deamons, large winged serpents with cruelly toothed mouths and horns protruding, dart about with seemingly boundless enemies.
Sepher's eyes glowed crimson for a second and points at the hounds harassing fei and at soul reaver. He spoke, something dark sounding, but they seemed to cringe at his words as if they were painful, but darted away from him. Stabbing, slashing and darting, 2 of the Daemons darted among the hounds, harassing them like the wind itself as the others began to swirl around soul, attempting to puncture, slash and peirce as they could among the companion's attacks.
Proceed.
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Post copied from previous thread
Soul Reaver cannot be reached, that much is clear. Kitharsis is not alone as he pleads to his friend, but their words fall on deaf ears. Either by choice or by Blooddrinker's doing, the effect is the same. The more Kitharsis watches Soul Reaver's actions, the more he is convinced that he is not in control of his own faculties.
A bright crimson flash surges from Soul Reaver's body. Kitharsis raises his arm to shield his eyes, but he is too late in doing so. He crouches down as the red tendrils from his tattoos circle around him, forming a sphere of protection until his sight returns. He blinks and rubs his eyes with his forearm. The spots begin to subside, but he doesn't release the sphere just yet.
The orange bolt of daemonic energy crashes and sends an explosion washing over him. It tears away pieces of his shield as it passes. The glowing shield fades, leaving a cracking hardened crystal sphere after the explosion passes. Once the glow blinks out entirely the crystal shield cracks and falls away.
Deep black burns score his body where his shield was torn away. The wounds are still smoking from the contact with the destructive daemonic energy. It is now that he notices the thick pool of ichor on the floor. The destructive liquid tests the mettle of his metal boots, but there is no time to ponder the structure of his footwear.
Jharm is wounded, and locked hilt to blade with Soul Reaver. With a burst of light Jharm launches backwards, and after a rebuttal of words chanting can be heard.
Hoping that the chanting hinders Soul Reaver as much as it is empowering himself, Kitharsis goes on the assault.
He breaks into a sprint toward Soul Reaver, horseman's pick in hand. Tirthandaran energy pumps into the weapon, empowering it. It begins to glow a fierce red as more and more energy flows into it. With a grunt he performs a double handed swing at Soul Reaver. The curved, bladed claw of his hammer is traveling in a blurred red streak toward his possessed companion. In his maddened state, he hopes Soul Reaver does not catch onto his ruse, for Kitharsis holds the power of his blow. He intends for Soul Reaver to parry his strike with Blooddrinker. The charged energy in his hammer is merely to protect it from the raging power of the daemon sword.
If the two weapons connect, Kitharsis will twist the curved claw of his hammer around BloodDrinker in an effort to lock them together. The tattoos on Kitharsis's arms will burst to life and wrap around the daemon blade, attempting to engulf the weapon. He will then set his feet and pull mightily, trying to separate blade and master.
Should some other defence or retaliation come from Soul Reaver, a hefty bag of sand sits at Kitharsis's waist. It is primed and ready to come to his defence.
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Soul Reaver snarls in satisfaction as his talon cuts through Jharm’s armour. However, his follow-up attack is blocked by the seraphim’s quick thinking. For a few moments the malignant Blooddrinker and the seraphim’s mighty hammer are locked together, giving off an ear-splitting screech, until there is a burst of light and Jharm backs off. He again takes to the safety of the air, his glowing eyes looking down upon the crazed warrior.
"I have tried to settle this peacefully. Light knows I do not WANT to kill you Soul Reaver. Enough is enough however. It is clearly evident that HE has seized full control, and that is not something I can ignore any longer. I do not know what it is that I did that seems to have angered you so, but it seems as if it matters little at this point."
Soul Reaver glares back, but he replies with nothing but dark sorcerous words as he begins to weave another spell.
Mentally, Jharm attempts to contact Soul Reaver, but Blooddrinker’s defences are still too strong. Only a handful of words slip through.
I…. ….wronged you…. …everything I…. do….
As Soul Reaver continues his chanting, a painful noise begins to fill his ears. As it builds to a crescendo, his spell falters and he takes a step backward, raising his forearm as if to shield himself.
"Behold Blooddrinker! The Chant of Nelathia! Hear the joyous words radiate through your twisted and corrupted being! Feel the cleansing might of the Light wash over you! Observe the purity of Her majesty and beauty!"
A look of fury crosses Soul Reaver’s face, but there is pain in those eyes as well. The Doomhounds cringe at the noise, but do not relent in their grip – their loyalty to their master overriding all other concerns.
Then, there is a booming roar as the Ork rises to his feet again. Shouldn’t he be dead by now!? Soul Reaver whirls around as green blasts of energy fly from the warboss, screaming through the air and then converging on Soul Reaver from all sides while the warboss opens fire with his heavy guns from the front. Soul Reaver curses as his Retribution Shield flares brightly, but it is insufficient to completely stop the onslaught. Blooddrinker slashes in an arc at the blasts coming from Soul Reaver’s right side, and they explode harmlessly into a shower of green sparks as the blade strikes them. The blasts from the left however punch through the shield. Soul Reaver’s shadowy left arm attempts to block them, but even weakend by the shield, they strike with enough force to slam the warrior sideways into the black mire.
Soul Reaver rolls as he hits the ground and is back on his feet in a single quick motion. He can see the Ork coming toward him, and hear his earsplitting roar. Soul Reaver gives a momentary grin – the bloodthirsty roar was helping to drown out the painful choir that had been plaguing him.
He takes this opportunity to perform a quick gesture with his talon. Suddenly the bullets coming toward him begin to glow white-hot and then vaporize mid-flight about two meters before reaching him, as though hitting an invisible barrier.
Elsewhere, Sepher summons his demon host to the battle, but Soul Reaver is already otherwise occupied as Kitharsis is upon him, the horseman’s pick descending lighting fast. To counter the blow, Soul Reaver raises Blooddrinker, which crashes against the hammer with a horrible crackling. Arcs of energy surge over Soul Reaver’s blade as Kitharsis twists his pick around, the hook catching firmly in the elaborate flanges at the base of Blooddrinker’s blade.
Kitharsis’ tattoos blaze into life and tendrils of power wrap around the sword and the mighty Kitharsis braces his mighty thews in an attempt to wrench the blade from Soul Reaver’s grasp.
Sepeher’s demons close in on Soul Reaver, sinking their fangs into the exposed flesh on his right arm and leg, but he ignores the pain, his attention focussed entirely on maintaining his vice-like grip against the efforts of the titan before him.
Blooddrinker spits as it beings to consume the energy wrapped around its blade, and in turn, a surge of hot power flows up Soul Reaver’s warm. Dark, swirling energy twists around him. Above the din of the battle, the roar and choir, Soul Reaver’s voice blares out deafeningly.
“HAVE I NOT GIVEN ENOUGH ALREADY?! WOULD YOU TAKE WHAT LITTLE I HAVE LEFT?!!”
Blooddrinker’s blade bulges almost like an organic thing, pulsing grotesquely, the cracks along the blade spreading. Tendrils of red steel burst from the handle and, agonizingly, plunge themselves into Soul Reaver’s forearm. Like hideous snakes they knit themselves through his muscle and bone, fusing the blade to his arm. Soul Reaver cries out in genuine pain, but even if he were willing, he is unable to let go.
Then, with a snap, his eyes focus on Kitharsis again. Suddenly, with a surge of raw, hate-filled strength, he wrenches Blooddrinker to the side so the blade points straight at Kitharsis, and lunges forward, using the Tirthandaran’s own efforts to draw the blade toward his former friend’s chest.
In the same instant, Soul Reaver speaks a word of magic and a blanket of Silence falls over the battlefield – all sounds but his own roars are muted so they are barely at the edge of hearing, snuffing out the angelic choir and swallowing Gulgrim’s roars even as they leave his mouth.
Pandemonium erupts across the battlefield. The black ichor has been spreading the corrupting energies of Inferno until it lies thick, and now this begins to manifest. Next to Soul Reaver, a pair of Cruelbeasts, their massive, thickly muscled bodies bristling with spines, burst from the ichor and seize Sepher’s demons in their taloned hands, wrenching them gorily from Soul Reaver’s body and starting to wring the life from them.
A little further away, two misshapen Daemonspawn pull themselves from the mire and make their way toward Sepher, weapons raised. Meanwhile, as Sepher’s demons finish savaging the Doomhounds – who crumble into a fine black dust – two more leap onto them from behind, snarling and sinking their venomous fangs into the demons’ bodies.
And finally, between Gulgrim and Soul Reaver, a massive figure rises, as broad as it is tall, its entire body gleaming in dark armour – a Steelheart, carrying an enormous, serrated two-handed sword. Rivulets of blackness flow over its metal form as Gulgrim’s bullets ricochet off it in wild showers of sparks. It wordlessly stomps to intercept the Ork, unafraid and unmoved by the warboss' fury.
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Upon severing the blackened wings of Soul Reaver, Fei is acosted by a pair of doomhounds that latch onto his legs giving Soul Reaver just enough time to blast Fei with a rend spell at close distance. The venom of the doomhounds was more of a nuisance to Fei who purged the toxins with the control of his own blood.
An eruption of blood, entrails and sinew cascades from the Vampire's body in a fountain of gore over the immediate area. At this precise moment Soul Reaver, or the one in control might have realized the folley with such a tactic at such a close distance with the vampire.
"So you like blood, eh?" Through the bloody mist, Fei's fangy grin can be seen as the fountain of blood washes over Soul Reaver. "By all means, have some of mine."
Within that moment Fei's blood turns into a purplish black tar like substance which adheres to all exposed flesh, becoming a crippling supernatural contact venom to any foes within the area, be them mortal or demon.
As demons begin to errupt from the ground, Fei's body blurs out of existence. "I'll be right back. Wait here for me, would you? We've still got a few words to exchange." Fei mocks at Soul Reaver to break his concentration with Kitharsis right before he begins chanting the silence spell. Then he re-appears, in what appears to be two locations at once before Sepher.
Fei looks back at Sepher and nods in appreciation.
Fei's physical body appears to have suffered a great wound. His abdomen and chest are split open like a fractured quartz, his innards pulsing and swirling with abyssal magic. For a mortal being, this would would clearly be fatal, but Fei's undead body appears to be unimpeded by the chasm carved across his torso.
His body scattering once again, Fei reappears between both the demon spawn and Sepher's demons as the demonspawn leaped in for the kill. In an instant of sword strikes too quick to see, the two demon spawns attacking Sepher's demons are shredded into a thousand pieces which are scattered high into the air before they make contact with Sepher's own demons.
Fei is gone just as quickly as his attack began, leaving only traces of afterimages wisping away.
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Gulgrim's advance stops as Soul Reaver summons up a new creature to attack him. He looks up at the towering creature and grins, chuckling even though his noise cannot be heard. He stamped his foot, and in a flash of lightning, a squad of Boyz appeared. Though he made no sound, his mouth very clearly said 'more', and he stomped again, another squad appearing. "more. more. More. MORE. MORE!" Each time Gulgrim stamped his feet, green lightning spat forth from nowhere, depositing squads of soldiers until Gulgrim was at the head of a small army of Orks. He waved his Kutlass forward and the Orks opened fire, shootas spitting hell at Soul Reaver and the creatures he summoned. Their bullets were skipping harmlessly off of the Steelheart, however, and Gulgrim smirked, figuring that this would be his own to kill.
Giving his kutlass a quick twirl, he set forward again, lightning crackling along his form and up the length of his kutlass. With an earth-shattering push, Gulgrim launched himself at the Steelheart, blade held high, and just before he came into striking range of the creature, he vanished in a bolt of lightning, reappearing directly above its head, Blade falling and gravity bringing the Ork with it, spitting Green fire from his mouth and bringing his empowered Kutlass down towards the Steelheart's head. Bullets skipped off of Gulgrim's armor and off the Steelheart as his Orks wantonly opened fire on the area, aiming for Soul Reaver and any of his demons that were present.
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Blooddrinker begins to consume his energy, fueling Soul Reaver's wrath. Kitharsis's tendrils maintain their grasp on the weapon. If he can separate the two of them the sacrifice is well worth it.
“HAVE I NOT GIVEN ENOUGH ALREADY?! WOULD YOU TAKE WHAT LITTLE I HAVE LEFT?!!”
Kitharsis's eyes narrow in response, "I would save what little is left of you, while purging you of that deamon once and for all."
The blade bulges in his grasp, as if made flesh. It pulses and cracks further. With dismay, Kitharsis watches as steely red tendrils burst from the handle and eagerly plunge into Soul Reaver's skin.
Soul Reaver cries out in pain, then snaps into focus. It is no easy feat to overpower Kitharsis when he is fully pressed in his intentions. Soul Reaver does so with a surge or raw power, wrenching Blooddrinker's blade to the side and directing it straight at Kitharsis's broad chest.
In an instant the fiercely glowing tendrils wrapped around Blooddrinker solidify into thick, dark red crystal. The sturdy thatch-work of crystal strains against the might of the immortal warrior pressing against them. Kitharsis's boots dig gouges into the floor below him as he is pushed back by Soul Reaver's enraged might.
With a hearty yell Kitharsis's muscles bulge as he heaves downward with his horseman's pick. He takes a sidestep, using Soul Reaver's momentum against him as he pulls Blooddrinker into the ichor covered floor where he once stood. The crystal tendrils snap in half, still clinging to the daemon sword. They are inert, having no more energy flowing through them to consume. But their structure is still bulletproof, and it will take some effort to remove them from the blade.
With Blooddrinker no longer directed at his chest, Kitharsis leaps back a few paces. The skull tattoo on his arm is glowing brightly. The Tirthandara stands ready, should the entity inhabiting Soul Reaver seek retribution for the grab at its beloved sword.
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The nephilim lord unsheathed the yamato, all the while hissing in the serpent's language, whirling it about in a fast, blurred dance few eyes could trace, carving out invisible sigils before nailing the sword into his shadow. The dimness of the shadow, upon the blade's impact, goes ever darker until looks as if it were a hole with no end – all while the blade stood stock still, vibrating violently with a deafening hum as Danyael began to step away.
And then he saw it. Lightning crashing all around the area as his eyes saw another influx of energy – and that very energy multiplying over and over again, as the one at the core of the power commanded the summoning. “more. more. More. MORE. MORE!”
Still chanting in the hissed language, the nephilim lord let his cloak drift loose, then let his jacket down to reveal the first half of his full body tattoos where the ancient languages throughout began to quiver and warp. The chanting, while still spoken in hisses, intensified to such degree that his voice, in tandem with the heightening vibratory humm of the yamato, synced with one another, becoming a keening high note so sharp that it began to pang in piercing screeches, until two ghostly images began to spin around Danyael, taking on the form of two gruesome weapons, the likes of which he'd never before revealed.
The blades manifested instantly, one in the bladed shape of a severed arm and the other in the shape of a long, metallic feather. Both appeared as works of unworldly art, but possessive of a murderous intent. The Blade of Voracity, in its grotesque appearance, seemed to 'breathe' and 'twitch', while the 'Lotus Malevolence' in its innocent design, was wreathed in unnatural magenta flames. Both different and yet surprisingly similar in one predatory factor: they embodied an aura of unnatural, unending hunger. And it was with this hunger that they fed off of both the energies of the wielder and their target. They floated around Danyael, at first, only for him to clench his metallic fists and the blades themselves began to whirl to such speed that they appeared as hypnotic discs that screamed as they spun – added to them already orbiting the nephilim lord at incredible speeds gave the appearance of a self-contained hurricane roaring around him. “There was once a time where I'd have given anything to get a smile out of you.” his voice was grave, sorrowful. “There was even a time where I desired nothing more than for you to call me friend.”
“Perhaps one day. But, sadly, not today.”
Danyael popped his neck once and the yamato pulsed. He popped it twice and then it jerked. He popped it a third time and the shadowy portal exploded into an array of Nocturn Kenshi – of which Soul Reaver was personally familiar. “That one.” he aimed a finger at Gulgrim “Is not your enemy.” only to turn his attentions to the Steelheart. “That one.” he pointed to the creature. “Shred.” he spoke the command, prompting their insane roars of bloodlust through the battlements as they rushed in on the Steelheart from the seemingly endless stream of their source. While a portion rushed in for the coming slaughter, others began to smash into and explode around each other, bursting into a hazy gore that surged around Gulgrim to drink of their lifeforce, readily available to further bolster the Ork's already staggering levels of power.
Bask. Danyael's word reached Gulgrim without his mouth making the movement to form it, giving him full permission to bathe in the power his minions would sacrifice in order to further add to Gulgrim's strength.
Another whisper of words of power manifested a crystalline aura around the nephilim lord, reflecting his essence in its many shards. He walked by Kitharsis, his friend, his eyes watching him for but a moment before discreetly gesturing the two assault Soul Reaver, or rather the one that binds him, at once. “You want blood, parasite?” he snarled, the crystalline aura flickered as Danyael advanced, the bullets of the Orks skimming around him as their onslaught toward Soul Reaver volleyed forth. “Then come take SOME OF MINE!!” he vanished in a flash of speed, re-materializing directly in front of Soul Reaver in a full ahead march, kicks, punches and swords roaring into him with such ungodly alacrity that it appeared to be hundreds of limbs hammering against the warrior with meteoric force.
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Soul Reaver’s thrust goes wide as Kitharsis encases Blooddrinker in crystal, sidesteps, and forces the blade to the ground.
Soul Reaver glances at the crystal-encased sword disdainfully. Over the millennia, many have tried to hide or trap the blade to keep it from doing harm. It has been sealed into blocks of solid, enchanted iron, dropped deep into the most forgotten chasms of the oceans, and more recently at the hands of Soul Reaver himself, even banished to the molten core of a planet – and all attempts have been in vain. The sword always resurfaces, and its current crystal prison is similarly impotent. With a single swing, the blade shatters through the crystal, scattering its shards indignantly across the ground.
However, he has little time to renew his attack on Kitharsis as masses of bullets begin to whiz through the air. The greenskins attacking him did not seem to be very good marksmen, and with the Steelheart between Soul Reaver and them not a lot of fire was getting through. Soul Reaver himself was protected behind the Retribution Shield, its surface sparking and then rippling like water with every impact. The two Cruelbeasts at his flank were not as lucky, suffering numerous gunshot wounds. However, though bloodied, for now it seemed to only amplify their rage.
The Doomhounds attacking the other two demons were faring better, their red, iron-hard scales protecting them from the worst of the assault. Nonetheless, as they begin to chip and blood begins to streak their flanks, it is clear the Doomhounds only have limited time left to them.
The Steelheart ignores the incoming fire from the Orks, which is proving ineffective against its armoured hide, and instead turns all its attentions to Gulgrim. Not unexpectedly, the Ork is all too pleased to meet the challenge.
The Steelheart draws back its towering sword in anticipation of meeting Gulgrim’s charge, but before any blows connect, the Ork vanishes in a flash of emerald lightning. The same instant, the warboss appears above the Steelheart, a gout of green flame issuing from its mouth and lightning crackling around his blade.
However, if he expected a ponderous juggernaut, the Warboss was in for a surprise. With an agility and elegance more akin to a creature completely unimpeded by armour, the Steelheart sidesteps the incoming Orky calamity. Though enveloped by the ork’s green flames, it whirls around and brings its two-handed sword to meet the falling Warbass in a cleaving upward swing, utilizing the superior reach of its massive weapon. Clearly the Steelheart would not go down without a fight.
Near Sepher, the two Daemon Spawn raise their axes to strike, only to have Fei appear and slice them to ribbons. The pieces of their bodies rain over the area along with their thick, dark blood. The meaty chunks however do not lie still – they begin to twitch and bubble, as though trying to reassemble themselves. Fortunately the Daemon Spawn’s regenerative abilities have their limits, and after a few moments, they go still and collapse into piles of lifeless black dust.
Meanwhile, Soul Reaver feels a clawing pain start to grip his muscles. He snarls as he looks down, seeing the congealed, dark purple tar that Fei’s blood has become. Soul Reaver’s flesh seems to smoke where his unnatural regeneration tries to combat the venom. Having detected the source of the poison, Soul Reaver’s insubstantial talons make a quick, jerking gesture over the ground. In response, as though drawn by invisible strings, the black ichor around him twists upward and flows thickly over his body, as though consuming him. It falls as quickly as it rose, but forcefully draws the coating of Fei’s venomous blood with it.
However, a surge of energy from Danyael attracts Soul Reaver’s attention. He sees Danyael summon two weapons out of thin air, and call upon the Nocturne Kenshi. And his snarl twists to a grin, for even from here, he can sense the sheer amount of life energy that these weapons and summonings are draining from Danyael. A perfect opportunity.
The Nocturne Kenshi surge towards the Steelheart while some of their bretheren begin to explode as they crash upon each other near Gulgrim, but Soul Reaver is otherwise engaged, weaving spells at a feverish pace. His outline seems to blur and shimmer, as though enveloped by a heat-haze, and dark mana seems to suffuse his very body. He is still chanting when, in the blink of an eye, Danyael is upon him.
A maelstrom of blows rains toward Soul Reaver, instantly putting the crazed warrior on the defensive. Soul Reaver takes one step back, then two, Blooddrinker flashing through the air, the blade deflecting or absorbing the incoming blows. The Retribution Shield only makes things harder, where every attack feels like punching through a body of hot blood, lessening their speed and impact. Despite his efforts, Danyael doesn’t seem able to land any significant blows – the occasional punch or kick gets through, but Blooddrinker consistently defends against the deadly sword blows or crippling strikes. In spite of this, he seems to have Soul Reaver locked into a stalemate.
Perhaps the tide of battle was finally turning.
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The Seraphim watches as before his eyes both sides summon forth demon and shadow warriors. The shadow warriors do not seem to bother the angelic being too much....the demons however are a completely different thing. Launching up into the polluted sky, Jharm gazes down on the battlefield below, his vision passing over the Steelheart, Cruelbeasts, and daemonspawn battling the Warboss and Sephers demons. His words are audible but are softly spoken, more as if he is thinking to himself out loud, and with his distance above few would likely be able to hear any of it.
"Is it not enough we must battle our one-time companion....we must also unleash MORE evil to do so? Enough is enough.....I can not suffer this revulsion any more!"
Jharm begins to focus, channeling more and more power into him, his right hand tightening around his hammer as he builds the spell up to even greater power. He would see the demonic filth below him purged from existance, so then he could return to the unfortunate task of subduing Soul Reaver.
"Light hear me. Aid me in the cleansing of these minions of Darkness."
He then sends a word of warning to those of his companions more.....inclined with darkness.
You may want to shield your eyes.
Thrusting his left hand out an orb of light appears before him and hovers over the area. Light flows from the Seraphim and into the orb, it's size increasing more and more. As the orb grows in size the brightness it emits increases as well, until it seems as if a Sun resides overhead. Should any of the companions, save those who received the warning, gaze up it would simply seem as if they have looked up into a normal sun that was light years away from them. Should those who were warned, or any demonic entities gaze up....it would be as if the Sun was in fact residing just overhead. Light ceases to flow from the Seraphim, and then a moment later he clenches his fist closed and the orb explodes in a brilliant flash of light, beams of light screaming downwards as they seek out the demons battling below. Jharm focuses once more on Soul Reaver, the Seraphim remaining in the air as he takes a brief respite after such an expenditure of power.
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Gulgrim's empowered Kutlass cleaved straight through the upward strike of the Steelheart's blade, severing the sword's blade partway up its length. The severed half of the blade whirled off into the air and was soon coming back down with gravity, and Gulgrim had an idea. He vanished in another flash of lightning and appeared up by the blade as it neared the height of its arc. Gripping the flat of the blade in both hands, he shifted its point back toward the Steelheart and then, with a mighty, WAAAGH! empowered shout, forced it back like a bullet towards the Steelheart's chest. And then he was gone in another flash of lightning.
When he reappeared this time, he was surfing the severed blade on its way down to his target, spitting warpfire the whole way and Kutlass ready to strike should he near the Steelheart's form. Behind him, a couple dozen Stormboyz appeared out of the air, flying on rokkit paks and dropping Stikkbomz on Soul Reaver's daemons. All the while, the Orks on the ground continued their relentless hail of bullets.
It was like something straight from the battles of Armageddon. A horde of Orks emptying their shootas from the ground, Stormboyz striking from above, and a massive, screaming Warboss plowing straight for the heart of the biggest fight. And then the Warboss added something new to the mix.
No non-Ork could wield WAAAGH! Energy. It was too volatile, too aggressive. WAAAGH! Energy was the very essence of conflict, the thing on which Orks thrive, and anyone who isn't an Ork would find themselves destroyed from within should they try to house its energies. Even Orks sometimes cannot handle this energy, resulting in the exploding heads of Weirdboyz all over the galaxy.
But just because Gulgrim's allies couldn't hold the energy doesn't mean it couldn't help them.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!"
Gulgrim had been aided enough by his new allies to know what assistance felt like, and decided it was time to offer his own Orky rendition. A Green fog began to coalesce near each of Gulgrim's companions. It swirled and took shape, each one becoming roughly man-shaped, and then becoming more defined. The clouds of fog took the shapes of Gulgrim's companions, though each appeared to be an Orkified version of their target. A large Ork with huge, brutish wings and heavy armor appeared before Jharm, hefting an angry looking warhammer. A muscular Mohawked Ork with Green glowing tattoos appeared next to Kitharsis, and each of Gulgrim's allies were soon joined by an Orky doppelganger. Some of them were almost comical; The Ork that appeared next to Fei attempted to mimic his slender shape, but the amount of raw muscle compacted into that frame made him look almost cartoonish, though he did wield a pair of wicked looking swords.
Each of the companions having been joined by an Orkish copy, the strange, almost misty clones took up identical stance to their counterparts, and prepared to attack their targets in tandem.
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Soul Reaver was putting up an incredibly forceful defense – with the Retribution Shield making the assault a more pressing one. But then again, that was all according to plan. With the reflective field surrounding Danyael, every attack made against the nephilim lord manifested a host of additional limbs and extensions of himself, hammering back against him with unrelenting force. With every block from Soul Reaver came a dozen more attacks from Danyael's reflections, while with every attack against the nephilim lord came two dozen more, on top of the hundreds more of the relentless assault that railed against Soul Reaver already. It was a hurricane of untold violence. In tandem with the continuous assaults from the Lotus Malevolence and the Blade of Voracity, the force and power of Danyael's attacks, on top of the increasing speed, grew with every accumulative strike against Soul.
As Jharm's divine light rained exorcising forces down upon the daemons, the Nocturne Kenshi roared in insane praise, mirroring Danyael's murderous intent – as if to celebrate paving the way for the coming slaughter. After all, the less the enemies there were to kill, the more they would focus on the one who brought the monstrosities out into the open in the first place. Danyael's attacks began to wane, though the change was barely noticeable. All part of the plan. Portal snapped shut, leaving whatever numbers, which were many, were now in the living world. And their master was soon to no longer be in it. A full half dashed out of the fray and off toward Soul Reaver, only to smash directly into Danyael, allowing his form to absorb their essences into himself as his tattoo seemed to 'pulse' and 'breathe', temporarily replenishing what lifeforce that was lost.
All the while, Danyael hissed in the serpent's language of spells, only for his reflections and manifestations that emanated from – and attacked with rivaling speed, ferocity and power – also hissed the spells in an eerie stream of echoes, adding their own power to his own. Every punch, from the hundreds already, multiplies into ten more – which multiplies into ten more – which multiplies into ten more. And with the reflections of the manifestations were also reflections of Danyael's weapons, particularly the devouring flames of the Lotus Malevolence that ate away at the energies of the Retribution field, in order to make way for the blades to finally meet their mark. In addition, the onslaught not only continued against Soul Reaver, but considering the accumulative strategy of overpowering Soul Reaver, it was becoming particularly personal.
-
He nodded to Fei as he sliced the beasts near him to ribbons. It was good to be fighting with most of the companions again. Together they were a force to be reckoned with.
He was focusing on soul reaver when a message comes through to him.
"You may want to shield your eyes"
He had but a moment to think before an orb of light appears over the area and continues to grow as more energy leeches from the seraphim into the orb.
Suddenly his mind flits to another place, the orb so much like the merciless sun that baked his deslate home planet now.
The giant sun glared at his home as if a giant eye. The heat was palpable, unbearable. In the distance, he could see the Daemons warping in, scourging as they came. He put a hand to his head as a pain started to swell-
Sepher snarls loudly in pain as the orb bursts, causing him to squint. Daemons scream in in pain in his head as the light seems to burn their very souls, causing him to lift his hands to the side of his head. After a moment, he recovered though.
He stared at the Seraphim for a moment. with a sigh, he decided he would deal with that later. He took a few steps foward, and began to gather power within him. It was time for him to truly join the fight. The daemon souls roiled now, agitated from being hit with the light and a dangerous glint sparked from sepher's eyes. He hardly noticed as the green energy built up beside him and formed an ork doppleganger of himself. It would stare into the fight, prepping as he was. More power built as he prepared to do something dangerous.
-
The blade of the Steelheart flies into the air, only to be caught by Gulgrim and slammed toward the Steelheart’s chest. There is a loud metallic clang as the tip of the blade punches through the daemon’s metallic chest. It does not penetrate far however, and instead wedges into the armour, vibrating slightly as it comes to a halt. A split second later, however, Gulgrim appears at the end of the blade, sliding toward the Steelheart, a gout of green fire blasting from his mouth. As he slid toward the Steelheart he issued the warcry of his people – though it was swallowed into quiet oblivion by Soul Reaver’s Silence spell, it still called forth spectral warriors to the companions’ sides.
Unfortunately for the Ork, however, there was no way the remains of the daemon’s blade could stand the full weight of a Warboss standing upon it. The tip of the sword breaks off, leaving the Ork with no footing. The Steelheart, apparently unharmed by the piece of metal wedged in its chest, moves like lightning, its left hand seizing the Warboss’ chest while he is still in mid-air, and then bearing down on him with all its massive strength and weight, slamming the Warboss into the mire and pushing him down into the ground to drown him beneath the corrosive, choking ichor. At the same time, the Steelheart’s other hand, still gripping the jagged remains of the broken blade, reverses is grip on the hilt and begins a flurry of stabs at any of the Warboss’ exposed flesh.
The Nocturne Kenshi swarm over the Steelheart, but it ignores their attacks, most being deflected by its massive armour. Those that penetrate the few gaps seem to draw only small amounts of dark blood and elicit no reaction from the creature, which remains focussed entirely on murdering the Ork before it.
Meanwhile, Stikbombs rain down around the Steelheart, bouncing off its armour and exploding nearby - to little effect. The Cruelbeasts and Doomhounds, having wrung the life out of their respective serpentine victims, are not similarly immune. Exposed to the ranged gunfire of the orks and the stikbombs raining down from below, they take the only option left to them: they begin to run straight toward the ork mob, hoping to engage them in melee.
However, they do not make it that far. Above the battlefield, Jharm’s prayers cause the darkened battlefield to suddenly blaze into bright, holy light. The effect on the lesser daemons is immediate. To them, the light burns like fire. The Doomhounds cower and the Cruelbeasts raise their forearms to shield themselves, but when the orb bursts into even more brilliant light, their flesh blackens and their steps falter. Already wounded, they are unable to continue – they collapse to the ground, swiftly turning into piles of black dust. The light causes the very ichor on the ground to bubble and smoke, as though it were being boiled.
The light even seems to affect the Steelheart, with dark smoke rising from within its armour and the exposed metal surfaces seeming to blister and bubble. But if it feels pain, it does not show it and the ferocity of its assault does not relent.
Soul Reaver, in the meantime, continues to defend against Danyael’s assault – now made all the more numerous by a strange, greenish ork doppelganger, who seemed to be trying to match Danyael’s martial attacks with strange strikes of its own. The unexpected addition to the forces arrayed against him cause Soul Reaver to snarl and take several vicious kicks from the doppelganger until he manages to adapt his defense to take into account the ork’s bizarre fighting style.
When the radiance envelops him, Soul Reaver only momentarily flinches. Ribbons of darkness flow and stream from his taloned arm, but his own flesh seems largely unharmed, and he is much too focussed on Danyael to look directly at the light. His spells hold firm.
Danyaels assault was ever increasing in intensity, and it was getting harder to defend against them. However, inwardly the berserk warrior gives a smile. Danyael’s absorbing of several Nocturne Kenshi to try and replenish his flagging life-force further reinforced that his plan was working. The life force returned by absorbing these shadowy creatures was at best a stop-gap – after all, that same energy needed to be expended to summon them in the first place. And the two blades Danyael wielded were leeching off his life force with every passing second.
Even if Danyael now realized that Soul Reaver had been on the defensive specifically to draw out the battle as long as he safely could, it was too late. In that moment, Soul Reaver completes the spells he has been weaving.
With a soundless roar, a black shadow erupts from Soul Reaver’s body. Insubstantial tendrils thrust into Danyael’s torso, and like a hole punched into a dam, he feels what strength he has left spilling from him in an unchecked torrent. Following up his Strength Drain spell, Soul Reaver points his incorporeal talon at Danyael, and unleashes a second spell. Dark magic flows into his foe, and Danyael's muscles seem to become as lead, his joints seem to fuse into inarticulate lumps. His body moves as though enveloped in molasses, his mind seems paralyzed. All actions - physical or mental - requires a supreme force of will.
A creature of Danyael’s power would likely be able to tear itself free from the Greater Hold spell upon him, but it would cost several precious moments – and in those moments, both his blades and Soul Reaver himself will still be hungrily draining his strength dry.
Meanwhile, Soul Reaver can feel his aching body surging with more power. Additional dark tendrils spread out from him, seeking more victims, and he raises Blooddrinker high as he prepares to deliver a final, fatal blow.
-
The steelheart cannot see Gulgrim grin as he slams him into the ground. As the Ichor washes over him, he is gone, but with no sound and a fist full of gravel, there is no indication of it to the Steelheart unless it should turn around. Gulgrim falls from the sky, his blade plunging towards the demon's exposed back, seeking to plant his sword deep into the creature's neck. Not waiting to see if his attack connects properly, Gulgrim is gone again. He appears on the ground behind the Steelheart and slashes at the back of its legs, aiming to hobble the creature before vanishing again, this time appearing further away, closer to Soul Reaver. He spits a belch of rolling WAAAGH! fire at the immortal warrior before Leaping heavily at Soul Reaver. Mid-flight, however, he vanishes again, appearing instead in front of the Steelheart once more, his momentum retained and his blade plunging for the demon's forehead.
Meanwhile, Danyael's clone revealed its secondary nature. As the tendrils snaked their way into Danyael, and Soul Reaver raised his blade high, the clone appeared in the way, intersposing itself between Danyael and Soul Reaver. Then it began to glow a bright green, and it exploded. The explosion was directed forward, no force going in Danyael's direction, as if it were a shotgun blast of energy directed point blank at Soul Reaver. Explosive force buffeted the immortal, trying to push him away from the doppelganger's ward, sacrificing itself to save its chosen companion from harm. It was likely all of the doppelgangers held this secret function. They would fight like the warriors they imitated, and then, should their original be in severe danger, would appear to take the blow for them, and then detonate toward the offending enemy.
-
Sepher's resolve firms as he watches the scene unfold. Gathering his power, he clenches his fists and a growl starts somewere deep in his chest. The scale mail on his back under his coat starts to rearrange itself in expectation of his first of several Daemonic concentration transformations.
Cloth rips, and flecks of blood fly backward from his back as dark scaley wings tears through the flesh and the armor rearranges itself as he settles in with his new wings. He pants as the pain starts to subside. He holds out his left hand and draws the metal around his wrists into it, watching as it forms into a long silver crimson spear.
He was almost ready. One more thing to do. He held out his right arm, and grunted as he pulled forth the most terrifyling physically strong daemon he could muster and forced it into his arm. More cloth ripped as the arm of the jacket shredded as muscles grew large, and the skin grew black, sick dark veins popping out along the muscles.
He clenched his right fist, making certain he was in complete control before passing his spear to his right hand. His eyes crossed the battlefield searching for his target. There he was. soul reaver, fighting with Danyael in particular.
Bending his knees, building power, he pushed off in a whoosh. He charged across the battlefield, heavy wings propelling him at incredible speeds, directely at soul. He flashed by others as he honed in on his target and leveled the spear at soul just as he raised bloodrinker to give a finaly blow to one of his companions.
The sheer power of the cording muscles lent to near immeasurable strength as he drew the spear back and thrust it forward, momentum from his flight lending to that of the thrust, straight at souls exposed torso, the force of Danyaels exploding clone only helping add more force to the blow. As almost an afterthought, his clone followed him, attacking as he did
-
The explosion provided just the blink of time needed for the final component of Danyael's last spell to work its final vector. In spite of his immobility, the reflective field around Danyael, and all of the countless reflections of the nephilim lord, folded in on each other in fractured, keening screeches, much like the reversal of shattering glass. One layer after another, all in a single moment in time, did the fractals take shape of a single spinning cone, and with it all of the collective power generated from the assault. Danyael's reflections, having played as a separate extension of his will, continued their chorus of hissing chants that whirled the object quickly into the form of an elongated spear.
And it was then that the reflections that were all trapped within the shards sprang forth from within the weapon, each grasping at its handle, each an extension of Danyael. And they thrust the spear forward, with a might of raw, earth-quaking power, that roared downward at the nephilim lord. And with the crack of smashing stone, did Danyael break free of the curse in a burst of resounding energies, only to appear a moment later, his hand outstretched as the reflective field formed around him. A glint of light first started at the touch of his fingertips, as the Somnus brought forth its most powerful weapon. The lights then snapped together at the palm, extending both ways into an eight foot pole, crowned at the end with a majestic spike encased at the center with plates of bronze. Danyael's eyes glowed several hues now, cruciform platinum irises radiating as brilliantly as the sun as shades of bright red and dark magenta spiraled around their edges. These same eyes looked to Gulgrim with a nod, then watched as Sepher began his own assault against Soul Reaver. Let us engage him. As one. his voice reached out to Gulgrim as a call for further allegiance from his new companion against this threat.
The Blade of Voracity and the Lotus Malevolence plucked from the ground and spun around Danyael once again, but as they orbited their host, there was now something entirely different about him. With the Orichalcum in hand, replenishing his life just as quickly as the two parasitic weapons drained it, he took to the forefront of battle once again. A spell of continuous time magick heightened his speed past its already ungodly alacrity. But now with the power of three of the Somnus' most powerful weapons adding exponentially to not only his speed and strength, but also fortifying his capacity to use them to their peak efficiency. Over and over did his reflections speak the words of magick that increased his speed and the speed of his echoes – this added to the spells affecting their own speed, thus crafting their voices to speak at such speeds that their voices were little more than a barely noticeable hum. And in a snap of unseen acceleration, he was back at Soul Reaver, the Lotus Malevolence and Blade of Voracity howling about in slashes and downward cuts, the flames of the blades eating away at both warriors, only for Danyael's life force to be kept in continuous replenishment by the Orichalcum. The swords raged their fury down on Soul Reaver while Danyael himself rained down a volley of unending stabs and slices with the Orichalcum – each strike accompanied by countless others, which were accompanied by even more. The reflections, each humming the spell of haste, mirrored Danyael's movements as they manifested into the living world, also attacking Soul Reaver with rivaling speed and unyielding relentlessness until the immortal was once again surrounded in a hurricane of defiant ferocity that grew and grew greater and greater as the battle raged back against his enemy. There would be no more words of rage, no more declarations of vengeance. Now, all that mattered to Danyael was the battle's end.
-
With a swipe of ease, the crystals shatter and are indignantly tossed into the ichor beneath their feet. Kitharsis shifts his stance in preparation for Soul Reaver's advance.
Danyael appears with spinning blades and his Nocturne Kenshi. They tear into Soul Reaver, bringing the immortal to a stalemate. Finding no good opening Kitharsis stands ready, waiting for the moment to strike.
The moment does not come just yet, as Soul Reaver erupts in a soundless roar. Black tendrils burst forth and begin searching for anything to sap life from. A number of them reach out for Kitharsis. His body of energy must be a prime target for a spell such as this.
The skull tattoo on his arm has been waiting. And now given purpose it ignites in a bright flash. In a burst of sand, a coterie of skeletons appear alongside Kitharsis. Two small skeletal mages stand with clenched fists glowing with magic. Accompanying them are two skeletal warriors. Each holds a wicked longsword composed of razor sharp, incredibly dense bone paired with a similarly fortified spiked shield.
The skeletal warriors guard the mages' flanks as their smaller companions begin weaving a counter spell. As Soul Reaver's black, leeching tendrils are nearly upon them they unleash their magic.
The counter spell flows from their bony fingertips, manifesting as white glowing strands of magic. The strands wrap around the black tendrils and quickly work to reverse the Strength Drain spell's direction. The black tendrils begin to turn white as the counter spell takes hold. Should the mages' be left unattended, Soul Reaver will find his spell turned against him, his own strength being drained rather than his perceived enemies.
With the portion of the Strength Drain spell pointed his way neutralized, Kitharsis raises his horseman's pick once more. Soundlessly, his boots splash through the ichor as he advances on Soul Reaver. A flurry of blows rain down on the immortal warrior. Kitharsis holds no punches this time. Putting his full strength behind each swing.
-
The Seraphim watches as the explosion of light vaporizes the demon hordes before him, only Soul Reaver and the Steelheart surviving the holy purge relatively unscathed. It would seem Sepher though failed to heed the angelic warriors warning as the explosion seems to unsettle the puppet-master of demons. He then watches as the duel between Danyael and Soul reaches a culmination as Soul reveals the trap he had been preparing. Skewering the Nephilim with dark tendrils he begins to sap the being of strength, similar tendrils sprout from the knight's body and seek out other targets to try and drain. One such tendril senses the power residing with the Seraphim and flies through the air. At the last moment Jharm reaches up, seizing hold of the tendril before it can attempt to latch onto his body. He holds the tendril in his left hand as he focuses his gaze on Soul Reaver.
"So it is power you want? It is power you shall have then."
His left hand begins to glow brightly, and then the light flows from his hand and into the tendril as he utilizes the drain effect to channel pure holy light backwards and directly into the corrupted form of his psychotic companion.
"Bathe in the Light foul demon. Let it radiate your twisted form from within!"
He focuses even more power into the appendage turned conduit, the tendril beginning to glow white as more and more power is fed back and into Soul. The knight had been expecting to drain power from his friends-turned-enemies, but this was likely more then he could have bargained for. Such pure Light is not something a being of complete evil such as Blooddrinker would be able to bend and twist to his own malevolent desires....but would burn away at him from within.
"Feast upon your own demise hellspawn!"
-
Gulgrim’s Kutlass manages to punch through the armour on the Steelheart’s back, approximately where its head fuses with its body – it would appear that direct exposure to Jharm’s light had weakened its daemonic hide. His strike at the back of the creature’s knees is less successful however – the Kutlass manages to cut a gash into the metal, but fails to penetrate deep enough to cripple the Daemon. Before the injured Steelheart can whirl around to respond, Gulgrim has already disappeared.
Meanwhile, Soul Reaver is about to strike what was to be a final blow when Danyael’s ghostly orkish double springs in front of him, arms spread wide. Its outline flickers momentarily, before it destabilizes into a powerful blast of energy, directed straight forward.
The blast impacts on the Retribution Shield and pushes through to Soul Reaver, scorching his flesh, throwing him off-balance and sending him skidding a couple of meters back – and most importantly, interrupting his strike.
Soul Reaver finds himself surrounded now. In front of him, Danyael manages to throw off the Greater Hold spell and launches himself forward, past where his doppelganger had been standing. Behind him, Sepher and his double hurtle through the air, the point of his spear gleaming wickedly and pointed to land straight between Soul Reaver’s shoulderblades. Gulgrim appears on his left, a jet of green flame issuing from his mouth, and Kitharsis advances on the right, his skeletal minions weaving antimagic sorcery while Kitharsis and his skeletons move to within melee range. Directly above, Jharm bears down toward him as well.
Soul Reaver’s senses are pushed into overdrive as he attempts to counter all the simultaneous threats against him. His left arm thrusts outward, unleashing a disk of smoky shadow that swallows up Gulgrim’s scorching breath, at which point both powers seem to mutually annihilate each other with a bright flash.
Gulgrim does not remain on the battlefield however, teleporting back at the Steelheart to resume his attack. The Steelheart however has already seen Gulgrim teleporting around enough that, by now, it expects such an attack. It swiftly steps to the side and counters with a swift right-handed punch that will hit with enough force to knock the Ork out of the air. Meanwhile, the damaged metal around its neck and at the back of its knees has started flowing like liquid, gradually repairing the damage it has taken.
Above Soul Reaver, Jharm attempts to seize one of the tendrils, but it is no more substantial than a dream, and he finds his hand passing through it – which, in turn, allows it to start to feed. However, this does not continue for long – when he attempts to channel holy energy through the tendril, the undesirable energies cause the tendril to evaporate into nothingness, leaving him clutching nothing but air.
The efforts of Kitharsis’ mages are more successful, as they begin to unravel Soul Reaver’s control of the spell. Rather than allow it to be seized from him, Soul Reaver dismisses his spell with a mental command, immediately banishing the writhing shadows.
Both Sepher and Danyael dash toward Soul Reaver from opposite sides while Kitharsis throws his first punches. Soul Reaver takes a vicious punch to the temple, sending blood spraying from his mouth, but refuses to budge as he brings Blooddrinker up to deflect Danyael’s thrusts and slashes. He seems too preoccupied with Danyael to notice Sepher’s spear – he seems completely set on seizing a tiny opening in Danyael’s attacks, using his supernaturally enhanced agility to bypass those small gaps in his defences. Just as a blow is deflected, his taloned phantom arm thrusts toward Danyael…
At the last moment, Sepher sees Soul Reaver turn his head ever so slightly, a reddish glint in his eye, just as Sepher’s spear punches through the Retribution shield and directly through Soul Reaver’s back…
…but something isn’t right.
Soul Reaver’s body seems to flicker and shudder. For a brief second, Soul Reaver still seems to be where he was, but then suddenly he is standing a few centimeters to the side – the Shimmer spell having distorted his position. Sephers’ spear hasn’t impaled Soul Reaver – it merely punched through the flesh at his flank… far too little flesh, as it turns out, to stop Sepher’s momentum. At the same time, Soul Reaver’s talon has yanked Danyael toward him with inhuman strength, hurling the warrior onto the freshly-bloodied tip of Sepher’s spear.
Soul Reaver doesn’t waste any time – he was still in extreme danger, with Kitharsis throwing another flurry of punches at his side, as well as Sepher and Kitharsis’ doubles, and Kitharsis’ skeletal warriors arriving to join in the fray. He spins to face Kitharsis, tearing his body free from Sepher’s spear. Another mighty punch from the mighty Tirthandara suddenly goes wide as Soul Reaver bends backward and dives beneath it. He continues his forward momentum, sliding prone through the mire, beneath Kitharsis legs, slashing at the hulking warrior’s Achilles tendons as he does so
He leaps to his feet again behind Kitharsis, face-to-face with the Tirthandara’s skeletal minions and ghostly doppelganger.
The numbers were arrayed against him and his foes were not relenting, and attacking anyone who had a living doppelganger was clearly dangerous. It was time to thin their herd.
Soul Reaver’s insubstantial black talon forms a fist, and a line of smoky blackness rises from it, forming a shaft and then a long, wicked curving blade – a phantom reflection of the scythe that had once been wielded by Blooddrinker prior to his imprisonment.
Blooddrinker blocks a punch from a hulking, Mohawk-wearing Ork phantom and slashes to keep two skeletal minions at bay while Soul Reaver begins to spin the scythe in his hand.
Then, with a mighty swing, he slashes the scythe in a wide arc.
A thin, glowing orange line seems to flash brightly for a moment as the scythe unleashes its horrifying power, cutting clean through the torsos of the minions engaging him, ork and skeleton alike. A shockwave of cutting power, it continues for as far as the eye can see, slicing through steel and flesh as though it were air. A metal girder sparks and slides into two neat halves, a concrete slab flies apart into shards.
And then Soul Reaver is in the air, launching himself at the rocket-pack wearing Orks. Blooddrinker stabs upward, punching through the chest of one of the orks above him and detonating his rocket pack in a massive fireball. Obscured by the smoke and flame, the scythe slashes once, twice, three times – and three shockwaves blast from Soul Reaver’s position into all directions. Vast swathes of both airborne stormboys and the orkish infantry alike erupt into gore and flames, and Sepher and Jharm's doubles find themselves cut clean in half with the same blow.
Soul Reaver’s feet slam into the ground near the orks. Their thick blood runs in a roaring torrent upon the black ichor; it rains hot from the skies. Blooddrinker’s tip touches the mire and a maelstrom of gore forms around the blade as it lives up to its namesake.
Dark mana boils up around Soul Reaver as he begins to chant once more, and more smoky shadows rise around him. And something stirs behind him – a vast, bloated horror pulls itself from Inferno, a massive, filth-encrusted spiked mace held in its hands.
-
A number of kilometers away within a shrouded corrodor, Fei stands evaluating the battle with Soul Reaver, biding his time in this moment, his mind flowing in and out of time. In one moment in his mind, the battle rages, in the other, a sea of calm as the fighting between Soul Reaver and Danyael is that of a slow motion dance recital to him. From this distance, Fei was already out of reach of Jharm's holy light and his spiritual presence would be minimal. "Good timing on my part, it appears."
His chest wound has stopped healing before finishing as he is directing his power into his muscles for additional strength, His lithe form chisels and hardens.
Fei grins a bit before reaching out to the others mentally. "I hope, by this point, you don't mind a little collateral damage..."
Force is determined by mass multiplied by velocity. While Fei is, admittedly, not the strongest physically, his speed was unmatched, allowing him to throw great force behind his swings when required. Fei understood that throwing a large volley of weak attacks against Soul Reaver wasn't going to get his point across with his defenses, at this point, therefore, it was time for Plan C^4.
Fei waited patiently, existing within and outside of time, measuring the flows with calculated precision. He sidestepped between the two, analyzing them meticulously, waiting for the best opportunity to strike, all within but mere seconds. As Danyael kept Soul Reaver distracted with his assault, Kitharsis and the others came in for the charge. Soul Reaver struggled to defend against them and Fei took note of Sepher's spear just missing. The opportunity had come.
Soul Reaver took to the air after a deft defense. Fei calculated meticulously his reactions and adjusted according.
"Heh, you're going to have to forgive me for this one, Soul Reaver. I'll buy you a drink when this is over." Fei speaks to himself before catching something out of the corner of his eye. Looking to his left he sees a Orkish Doppleganger of himself scratching his rear-end and belching loudly before grinning. "a... are you fucking kidding me?"
In an instant Fei was gone before the Doppleganger could respond. The Doppleganger sighed, his head hung low in sadness before looking up in surprise at the vacuum caused by Fei's departure caused the corridor to implode upon him.
Fei charged forward in an instant, from several kilometers away the moment Soul Reaver began summoning the Inferno. Soul Reaver, nor anyone else could have seen this attack coming visually as Fei transcended the speed of lightning, leaving utter destruction miles behind everything in his wake. Buildings imploded like crushed cans; Earth and sky ruptured in a vortex that lasted but an instant; The steel flooring twisted upward and tried to follow behind, leaving shapes like large twisted sculptures. The dark mana around Soul Reaver peels away at the force of Fei's charge as Fei collides into him while he recovers from his defense from the others.
As the Vampire descends upon Soul Reaver, he intentionally dulled his blade, not to deliver a severing blow but a crushing blow that would be more easily healed, as he still does not wish to kill Soul Reaver, but incapacitate him.
-
Blasted thing was quick. It was reacting fast enough to pose a threat, which meant Gulgrim needed to finish it now. Its fist collided with him full force, sending him flying toward the ground, but he teleported mid-air and reappeared immediately behind the Steelheart's neck, his momentum carrying into him in an instant, smacking the Orc against the massive demon. He took only an instant to recover, spinning around and jamming his blade towards the creature's neck, hoping to dig it in to form a handhold as he spewed warpfire at the creature's head continuously, hoping to bring it down by melting its face clean off its skull.
Meanwhile his boyz were dying in droves, but more of them just kept coming, ineffective hails of bullets and stikkbomz dropped from the skies unceasing in their momentum. However, the corpses were beginning to pile up, and their fire is being partially obscured by the wall of their own corpses. In response, they begin to pour forward, heading towards the inevitable clash of melee, guns blazing the entire time as they ready retractable bayonets and grab choppas in free hands, hooting and hollering as they rush headlong into melee.
-
Fei’s dash hits the wall of the Retribution Shield hard, like someone slamming full-body onto a pool of water. However, his speed is such that he still breaks through, and Soul Reaver’s spellcasting is interrupted when Fei appears almost directly in front of him. Fei’s blade leaps at Soul Reaver’s torso, but somehow, Blooddrinker was already rising to deflect the blow before Soul Reaver even became aware of any danger.
Even so, the parry is a clumsy one and only partially successful. Fei’s weapon slams into Blooddrinker hard enough to drive the flat of that blade against Soul Reaver’s body, and the tip of his weapon still strikes Soul Reaver’s ribcage, cracking two ribs in the process. Soul Reaver is thrown backwards by the force, but does not get far – he thuds softly into the fleshy, bloated form of the Plague Daemon behind him. The Plague Daemon seems slightly surprised, but does not so much as budge from the impact.
Soul Reaver winces but knows better than to give Fei a chance to resume his assault, and counterattacks immediately. His physical and magical strength is surging to new heights, fed by the blood and death of his previous ork victims. His spell interrupted, he is already weaving a new one. Blooddrinker flashes in a whirl of steel, but it is merely a distraction – Soul Reaver’s real intent is to employ the scythe in his other hand, already spinning at great speed.
Knowing Fei’s preference for using his unnatural alacrity to avoid incoming attacks, Soul Reaver strikes a calculated, powerful downward blow with Blooddrinker. A blow of so much force would be difficult to block or deflect, but easier to dodge… something that Soul Reaver hopes Fei will do, as he then also swings the scythe in his other hand toward Fei’s leg in such a manner that a dodge would put Fei straight into harm’s way. Should Fei try to block that haft before impact, he would find that Soul Reaver has caused it to become momentarily ethereal, so it will prove no more substantial than smoke… though only for that split-second before it strikes Fei’s limb.
Meanwhile, the Steelheart tries to react when Gulgrim flashes out of existence again, but this time does not spot him fast enough before the Ork slams into him from above. The chink in the Steelheart’s armour where its head fuses with its body has not yet completely regenerated, and Gulgrim exploits this to present himself with a handhold. His kutlass again smashes through the armour, causing an eruption of dark blood, before unleashing a roaring torrent of green fire at the Steelheart’s face. The scorching heat will take time to melt through the armour, but the Steelheart fails to close its eyes before the initial jet hits. The glowing crimson slits go dark as the flames blind the creature… though whether Gulgrim realizes the result of his action, and how long the injury will last, is uncertain.
In response, the Steelheart swiftly raises its forearm to shield its face and injured eyes while its other hand stabs the jagged remains of its sword straight at Gulgrim’s own head. Even blinded, the Steelheart is an unrelenting warrior and at point-blank range, there is little chance it will miss.
Elsewhere, the ork boys launch themselves toward Soul Reaver in a furious charge, though to their dismay their battle cries are swallowed by the Silence spell. Firing their guns and throwing stikbombs, they charge toward Soul Reaver.
The Plague Daemon, in turn, goes to meet them. The creature is an absolute monstrosity, its flesh bloated with tumours and lumps, its ribcage visible through sickly flesh above a grossly distended stomach. A pair of barbed, sweeping black horns crown an almost skeletal face. Bullets thud into its necrotic body, but elicit no blood and no reaction from the beast.
When the first eager ork reaches it, he finds himself struck full-force by the thing’s massive mace. The ork literally explodes like a sack of viscera from the impact. Before the next ork arrives, the creature draws itself up to its full height, and its lips peel back to reveal rows of blackened teeth. Then, it unleashes a torrent of acidic vomit at the orks with the force of a broken dam. The orks caught by the brunt of the assault scream silently as their flesh melts from their bones. The ones behind them find themselves falling as they slip on ground thick with foulness and writhing with hordes of oversized, daemonic maggots, blind heads seeking to bury rows of hooked teeth in warm flesh.
But the remaining orks still push forward, and the Plague Daemon’s shoulders seem to shudder with malign laugher as it wades forward to meet them.
-
The Seraphim watches as his companions unleash a multitude of attacks against Soul Reaver and the foul creatures he has summoned. As the swarm of orks surge towards Soul, he watches as their bullets seem to bounce harmlessly off the shield around the crazed knight. The Plague Demon proceeds to effortlessly tear into the orkish ranks, the abomination demonstrating similar resistance to the mundane effects of the orkish bullets and blades. With the array of attacks his companions are unleashing in and around Soul Reaver, Jharm determines that any effort to approach within melee range would only lead to complications. Therefore it was time to provide assistance from a distance. Clenching his fists the angellic being focuses inward, gathering power within himself as he prays to the Light.
Radiant Light hear me now. It is time that this battle ends....let this fracture of companionship come to a close. Radiate your blessings upon my allies, grace them with your glorious benevolence.
Light begins to radiate from the Seraphim once more. As the glow increases, the ichor around his feet seems to boil away, the foulness simmering and popping before it "evaporates". All of the Companions can sense the massive build up of power with the Seraphim until suddenly the light radiating from him seems to explode outward. The Seraphim's allies feel a noticeable surge of strength rush through them as a shimmering shield of white light encompasses each of them. Energy is renewing and wounds are sealed shut as the blessings of Nelathia washes over each of them. At the same time their armaments also begin to glow as the Light enfuses each of them in turn. At the same time a similar effect cascades over the surging hordes of orks under the command of Gulgrim. While the orks do not seem to be blessed with the shields that the Companions received, their mundane choppa's and shoota's begin to radiate the pure white light as well. Jharm focuses all of his power and attention into maintaining the powerful prayer, leaving him completely exposed. He can only hope that his friends realize this and should the need arise, come to his aid.
-
Kitharsis throws a mighty punch with his free hand, only to go wide as Soul Reaver dives through the ichor between his legs. Kitharsis wheels around to face Soul Reaver, pivoting on one leg. Blooddrinker carves through his metal boot, parting the metal and slicing into his stony flesh. Thankfully, Sepher's enhancement was still in effect, strengthening the metal enough that Soul Reaver's strike did not fully cripple Kitharsis.
Nevertheless, Kitharsis's ankle fails him and he falls backwards to the ichor covered floor with a splash. He clutches the back of his ankle as his mouth forms the shape of a silent scream. His horseman's pick falls out of his hand and is swallowed by the pooled ichor.
Blood red energy blasts through his tight grasp on his ankle. Hopefully Sepher and the orks are not caught in the uncontrollable explosion. In moments, the blast tapers off as Kitharsis seizes control. Crystals form around the wound, stopping his energy from escaping and acting as a scab on an open wound.
He glances behind him, seeing the remains of his two skeletal warriors and one of his mages. Their bodies have been sliced in two and are piled around the remaining mage. The tiny mage is surrounded by a cracked, glowing shield that it erected just before Soul Reaver's attack hit. The bony remains burst into sand as Kitharsis releases them.
Kitharsis gingerly sits up and settles into a kneel. He watches as Soul Reaver summons another foul daemon. Fei appears out of nowhere and interrupts yet another of Soul Reaver's spells. Jharm renders another prayer, blessing everyone with strength and shielding.
Kitharsis can feel his ankle healing thanks to Jharm. He stands and tests his leg, finding it sound enough. It will take some time before he is ready for close range combat, especially with Soul Reaver in this state.
His horseman's pick begins to emit a white glow like a beacon beneath the ichor. Kitharsis gives Jharm a nod as he picks up his weapon and swings off the caustic muck. The surface of the weapon is stained, but its durability is still intact. It seems his predecessors knew a thing or two about quality smithing.
Kitharsis turns to Gulgrim and the Steelheart. The Warboss has been tarrying too long with the thickly armored daemon. Kitharsis notices that the eyes of the Steelheart have been seared from Gulgrim's fire. A perfect time for some long range assistance.
The tiny skeletal mage crawls onto his back as Kitharsis raises his left arm. He levels his palm at the Steelheart, careful to avoid Gulgrim as he hangs onto the daemon's back. The circle tattoo glows with ever increasing brightness as power gathers behind it.
The skeletal mage on his shoulder weaves a summoning spell. A long, sharp spear materializes out of thin air as the magic pieces the weapon together.
Kitharsis releases his bolt of energy straight at the Steelheart's chest. A split second later the mage rockets its spear directly behind.
-
Gulgrim spots the creature attempting to launch a thrust at him, and instinctively responds. The WAAAGH! Reinforced Adamantium of his skull plate crashes into the sword's jagged tip with a headbutt. There is a sound like cracking stone, and the relatively unimpressive metal of the sword cracks, then shatters in response to the combined impact. There's a ticking sound, and Gulgrim's hat tumbles from his head, though the Warboss catches it. A momentary realization tells him that its impact trigger has been set off by the impact with the Steelheart's sword, and he only had a handful of seconds before it went off. Using his embedded Kutlass as a horizontal bar, Gulgrim spins himself and launches himself onto the demon's shoulder, ripping the sword out as he goes and then moving to slam the hat in the space between the demon's forearm and his face, hoping to lodge the headwear in the demon's melted eye sockets. Then, turning on his heel, The Ork launches himself from the demon's shoulder toward the new demon that sought to bar his way to Soul Reaver. Moments later a blinding, earth-shaking explosion rumbles out as the explosives in Gulgrim's hat all detonate at once. The force of the blast only serves to propel the warboss even faster, His blade pointed forward as he flies straight for the Plague Daemon's forehead.
Meanwhile, The Orks continue to pour in to occupy the Plague daemon in combat, bullets firing in rapid pace and axes and swords laying in wildly as stikkbomz continue to rain down from above. The divine boost seems to go unnoticed by the Orks, or perhaps they simply can't express how their guns are now 'all sparkly an wot not' under the effects of the silence spell. Nonetheless, they continue their relentless assault, more of their ranks pouring in to replace those lost.
-
The descent to Sepher's bloodied spear was a short one, as Danyael, whose speed had continually increased throughout the affair, pivoted swiftly enough just in time to evade being impaled. The blade of sepher's spear glided past him as he twisted around it, landing directly adjacent to the warrior before bounding back into the air for a counter attack. But it was at that moment, with all activity around him, save for Fei, moving about at a snail's pace. It was both beautiful and dreadful, watching the battlements play out in a footpace drama that allowed him to bear witness to how far they'd all fallen. Friends fighting with friends? This had gone too far!
And then he felt the sudden surge of power, divine power, wrapping he and his companions with incredible, incomparable reinforcement. He felt his muscles tighten, his senses sharpen and a vigor he'd not known since his youth imbue within and around his very being. Even the Orichalcum responded to the surge, as its own power reached out and latched onto the divine energies surrounding Danyael, further adding to what was already a powerhouse that would be unleashed upon Soul Reaver for one last defiance. But the surge also created a change in conscience as well.
Instead of re-engaging Soul Reaver, Danyael vanished in a flash of speed, touching down in a three-point stance directly in front of Jharm, the Orichalcum both aimed to the sky and pierced into the earth. But something was missing. The two parasitic blades had gone, returned back to the source from which they came. A sense of lightness overcame him as the weapons fed off of him no more. His eyes looked to Jharm for a moment. “Be still, sir.” he spoke as he stood at resolute guard in front of Jharm.
The Nocturne Kenshi swarmed around him, soaring to the sky in a whirling corona of ichorous black. Spinning with greater and greater alacrity, the formless mass that was the collective swarm of Nocturne Kenshi began to descend upon the two, when Danyael tapped the Orichalcum hard to the earth. And at that moment, the swirling black form of the creatures dissipated into absolute nothingness. The Nocturne Kenshi were gone, banished back into the ether from which they came. Now stood Danyael, Orichalcum in hand, in front of Jharm, ready to defend his companion who had given so much to defend the others. The reflective field surrounding the nephilim lord then expanded to surrounding both he and his seraphim comrade. If any attacker engaged them, Danyael would defend Jharm without hesitation. And if no attacker came, then the nephilim lord would wait with his friend until the seraphim was fit for battle once more.
-
As Soul Reaver counter attacks, Fei sees his intent clearly and moves to counter accordingly. Upon releasing from his strike, Fei is quick to step to the side of Blood Drinker, while simultaneously directing a pommel strike to Soul Reaver's Jaw to keep up his momentum. He would have to maintain his aggressive approach to keep the upper hand in this short skirmish.
Fei pays careful mind to the Scyth in Soul Reaver's other hand as he evades the attack, watching it spin with great speed.
Weaving around Soul Reaver with uncanny grace, Blooddrinker sliding against the Shadow's kiss that found itself between it's Infernal Edge and Fei's more delicate parts, Fei creates a narrow opening to strike at Soul Reaver's Sword arm as the Scythe comes around aimed at Fei's leg. Fei calculated he had just enough time to strike and avoid the scythe attack by leaping over it.
Fei smirks as he commits to his plan. "Check mate." He thinks to himself... Just as Jharm utters his holy words which for but a brief moment threw Fei off his focus.
This gives Soul Reaver's Scythe just the required amount of time to sever Fei's leg clean off below the knee and throws him off balance. A string of blood follows the trail of the scythe. "Shit! That Angel is trying to get me killed, I swear."
While flying in to the air, albeit unintentionally, Fei utilizes his favoritism in impromptu fighting. The trail of blood flowing from his leg suddenly leaps to life and aims to wrap around Soul Reaver's arm wielding the scythe as it is still passing through, no longer incorporeal. Should the blodo whip ensnare his arm, the blood crystallizes and errupts into jagged crimson shards 10 inches long to pierce his exposed flesh.
With a sudden burst of strength, Fei leaps skyward on a gust of abyssal energy that beat as a pair of smoky wings before vanishing and yanks hard on the blood whip, either to break the crystals off in Soul Reaver's Body, or with enough force to tear his arm off like a chain saw.
-
The pommel of Fei’s blade cracks against Soul Reaver’s jaw. Red sparks flash before Soul Reaver’s eyes and he spit dark blood from between gritted fangs.
Blooddrinker hurtles down and Fei dashes sideways, as planned. Fei’s blade streaks toward Soul Reaver’s right arm and strikes true, but then recoils in a shower of sparks as it hits the metal tendrils chorded through Soul Reaver’s flesh.
A flash of holy energy surges around Fei and distracts him at a key moment. Soul Reaver’s scythe flies through the air, becoming ethereal and then rematerializing at the moment of impact. It soundlessly shears through Fei’s right leg, lopping it off and leaving a trail of rippling darkness in its wake.
Fei is thrown backward, a trail of thick blood streaming from his wound. Yet before he even hits the ground, Fei lurches back upward on a pair of shadowy wings. The blood seems to shudder in the air, then uncoils like writhing snake, whipping forward and around Soul Reaver’s shadowy left arm.
Soul Reaver seems to wince as the blood crystallizes, sharp spines penetrating deep into the swirling shadows of the talon. But his eyes betray a dark triumph as Fei yanks at the bloodied whip.
The shadowy arm tears cleanly away from the bubbling stump of Soul Reaver’s left arm with little resistance. The shadowy talon and scythe spasm in the whip’s barbed grip, but not with pain. Composed of sinister daemonic energy, the talon takes on a life of its own. Fluidly, like smoke, it transforms itself, lengthening and narrowing. Fei had already pulled it toward himself, but it accelerates in mid-air, now a lance of blackness pointed at Fei’s heart. Upon striking the surface of the glowing shield that Jharm has erected, the two forces are at a split-second stalemate – both the shield and lance spit and pulse. But she lance is specifically designed to penetrate enemy defences, and even the holy shield is not strong enough to prevent the tip of the lance from punching through. The moment the black tip punctures the shield, the entire lance shatters into hundreds of long, thin slivers that burst into the barrier; a bristling explosion of needle-like spears intent on skewering the antediluvian.
Soul Reaver looks down at where his arm was. In his right hand, Blooddrinker’s cracked blade heaves and pulses like a malign heart, and smoky blackness billows forth from the stump, re-forming the smoky taloned limb and the sinister scythe.
Meanwhile, the Plague Daemon struggles against the hordes of incoming orks. Bullets trailing glittering streams of gold fly and thud into its flesh. Unlike before, they actually seem to cause the creature discomfort, and spurts of black fluid begin to ooze from the wounds. The gashes left by the choppas that strike its flesh do not close, and the Plague Daemon seems to grow angry. It bellows silently, sweeping its mace in a wide arc left and right as it advances. Orks are thrown through the air like broken rag dolls, their bones pulverized by the monstrous, rusting hulk of a weapon. A black cloud of bloated insects burst from the creature’s innumerable open sores and descends upon the Orks, flying into eyes, nostrils, mouths and ears, biting and stinging with wild abandon.
As this is happening, the Steelheart’s battle with Gulgrim nears its fatal conclusion. A spear of sorcerous energy thuds into the Steelheart’s chest, the point penetrating the armour, only to be followed immediately afterward by a second spear that punches right through. The Steelheart’s frenzied stabbing weakens as it drops down to one knee. Its charred eyes cannot see the source of the attack, nor does it realize what has happened when Gulgrim slams his bomb-filled pirate hat in front of its face. Sensing something there, it moves its arm, causing the hat to drop to the ground in front of it a moment after Gulgrim has launched himself toward the Plague Daemon.
The timer in the hat reaches zero, and there is flash of white hot light. The Steelheart’s massive body is lifted off the ground by the resulting shockwave, the flesh inside the armour incinerated, the armour itself buckling and melting. The blast propels Gulgrim forward toward the Plague Daemon, while the bubbling, lifeless metal remnants of the Steelheart’s armour smash to the ground some distance away.
Alerted by the sudden bright light, the Plague Daemon turns around just as it is hit by a blast of hot air and small chunks of rock. It squints its eyes and braces itself against the blazing light – only to have Gulgrim slam straight at it kutlass-first. The Ork’s blade slices through part of the Plague Daemon’s thick skull but gets lodged firmly into the bone. Blackish-green ichor sprays from the wound and onto Gulgrim. In response to the wound, rage fills the Plague Daemon’s eyes and it unleashes another jet-like torrent of acidic, drowning vomit, unleashed at point-blank range from its maw at the huge Ork.
For his part, Soul Reaver erects a hasty, shadowy barrier with his left arm. It dissipates into wisps of nothingness the moment the mushroom cloud’s shockwave hits, but it seems to have absorbed the force of the impact. Behind it, Soul Reaver is left largely unharmed.
He has finally completed his spell, and his gaze turns upon Danyael and Jharm hiding within Danyael’s protective barrier. He points Blooddrinker at the pair and traces a small circle with the tip, guttural words issuing silently from his lips.
They sense something changing around them – a massive surge of sinister energy that seems to darken the very fabric of reality. But they have little time to contemplate the repercussions of the spell, as Soul Reaver himself streaks toward them. Moving with terrifying speed, he leaps across the rapidly-cooling ground, closing the distance in a matter of moments. As he approaches, his talon passes over Blooddrinker’s blade, leaving a scintillating bluish energy clinging to the weapon - an anti-magic enchantment to complement the blade's energy-draining nature.
The sword impacts violently against Danyael and Jharm’s barrier, sending coruscating arcs of anti-magic rippling from the sword...
-
The companions, it seemed, were all the more determined to get Soul Reaver to come to their senses - even if it meant beating those very senses back into him. But Soul Reaver's rage, it seemed was well intent on being defiant to the end as he unleashed horrors upon the strike force in one infernal tactic after another.
And then he saw it – all of it. He saw the energies around him flaring about in a spectacle of prismatic, coruscating lights as the great and vast powers of his companions surged across the field. If only they could see how truly beautiful they were. And then, he saw him. Soul Reaver, rushing full force, closing distance in clicks of time. But at that moment, it all slowed down for Danyael's eyes. He gripped the great lance in his hands, only to feel something shift. The Orichalcum quivered first, then quaked violently in his hands. He could feel the divine powers fading away, and with it, the old scars of both the Nocturne Kenshi and the parasitic weapons summoned before, now began to fully take their toll - catching up to him much like rushing darkness from a snuffed out candle. He felt his strength waver as his healing factor struggled to kick in. But with the unsteady focus of the Orichalcum, which he now discovered was about to unwillingly de-materialize, it was fighting too hard to simply keep him standing.
He looked to Jharm for a moment, first with horror, and then with a calm nod of resignation. “Forgive me.” he said as the Orichalcum, no longer able to tether itself to this universe, was wrenched from his grip, returning to the ethers of the Wellspring – all at the very moment that Blooddrinker shattered the reflective field. At that moment, a shift of will from the nephilim lord extended into the dirt beneath himself and the seraphim, pushing Jharm further out of the way in time for Danyael to take Blooddrinker through his chest – blood and vitae spritzing vividly in all directions.
He could feel his life ebbing away, layer by layer, but remained defiant to the end as he not only pushed forward against Soul Reaver, but – with a warcry of final defiance – locked his arms around the warrior as the sword began to sap him completely of his life. Perhaps this would provide a moment of distraction to Soul Reaver so the companions could once again turn the tide. “Take him!” he barked back to any companions who heeded his call. Either way, he figured this would be twice the old man had killed him.
-
Gulgrim lands in the beast's forehead with a savage SHUNK. Dangling by the hilt of his blade, he glares into the creature's eyes with unrelenting rage, and when it opens its mouth to spew acid at him, he responds in kind, a torrent of Orky flame bellowing from his massive maw to meet the oncoming acidic vomit, two tides of destructive force colliding with each other at point blank range, the force creating a wall of splattering fire and acid in all directions. Ripping his blade free, Gulgrim drops, the acid spraying over his head as he plunges the blade in again, using it to slow his descent and tear a gash along the creature's chest as he slides down.
A triumphant "WAAAGH!" sees the warboss engulfed in Orky fire, burning away the creature's pestilence as it came into contact with him, and he began to claw his way back up the plague daemon's torso, flaming fists scorching the places where they grip the creature's putrid hide. Making his way back to the creature's head, he begins to pound at the creature's face, punching with fiery fists and slashing with his burning blade, wildly attacking the creature's form while his form, wreathed in green fire, burnt everything it touched.
"You'z gotta do better n' dat ta stop Kaptin' Gulgrim, ya big stinkin' Spikey grot!" The warboss bellowed, his assault increasing in tempo as his rage built. Like a shining beacon, Gulgrim's boyz rallied around their warboss, firing into the Plague Daemon with renewed vigor, heedless of their losses as more of their kind poured into the fray, eager to get even a fraction of the glory their warboss was earning in this bloody battle.
"I getz da biggest kills an' da biggest loot! I'z Kaptin Gulgrim, an I was made ta fight an' win!" His voice carried across the battlefield, and even attempted to travel into the area affected by the silence spell, Psychic sound battering at the magical silence, attempting to shatter it by sheer force of WAAAGH! Enhanced volume.
-
Blooddrinker streaks through the air, intent on shattering the reflective shield Danyael had erected. The blade impacts upon the barrier with crushing force, and sends cracks running over its entire surface. A surge of antimagic crackles from the blade, over the barrier and into the newly-formed flaws. In a pulse of blue light, the barrier shatters into innumerable fast-disintegrating shards.
Soul Reaver’s sinister blade continues on its initial path, only to find Danyael in its trajectory.
The blade had only been aimed to shatter the barrier, not at anyone behind it, but somehow it had found a new mark. As though sensing an opportunity, it adjusts its flight to maximize the impact, thudding deep into Danyael’s form. Behind him, Jharm begins falling backward, thrown aside by Danyael.
Danyael reaches forward and locks his arms around Soul Reaver, driving the hungry sword deeper into his body in the process. Blooddrinker pulses madly as it feeds, the blood running over the blade almost gone by the time it reaches Soul Reaver’s hand. Danyael’s words were lost to the Silence spell, but Soul Reaver could see his lips moving – “Take him!”
For that moment that he looks down at his friend, a moment of shock and confusion crosses his features. For that blinking of an eye, he looks to be about to say something.
But then something dark surges from the blade. It burns away at Soul Reaver’s horror, supplanting it with feelings of elation – of revenge in one’s grasp; of claiming back a piece of something lost long ago.
A spherical area of space around Soul Reaver, Danyael, and Jharm distorts and pulses a deep, dark crimson in colour. Soul Reaver had earlier cast a spell over Jharm and Danyael’s location, but it had not triggered while the barrier was up. With the barrier felled, it activates.
Numerous ruptures seems to form in space on the edges of the sphere, and thick chains of razor-edged Black Steel, tipped with cruel, barbed harpoons fire from the newly-formed rifts. They move lightning fast, wrapping themselves with an iron grip around anyone still in the area of effect. They snake around Danyael’s body and limbs like a malign spider’s web, then wrench him away with unearthly strength. Blooddrinker reluctantly slides from the wound in his chest, giving a silent sigh as it does so. The chains go taut, suspending their victims in the air.
Elsewhere, Gulgrim ferociously attacks the Plague Daemon, his body wreathed in green flame as he hacks, punches and slashes at the creature. Its sheer bulk allows it to take punishment that would have slain a lesser creature many times over, but the hordes of orks and relentless onslaught from the Warboss.
Gulgrim shouts his defiance, and the Waagh-driven battle cries manage to finally unravel the Silence the spell over the battlefield.
However, the Plague Daemon, now mortally wounded, seizes the moment in which Gulgrim is expending some of his energy countering the spell to launch one final attack. Throwing off the smaller orks on its arms, it sends one massive, two-handed overhead chop straight down onto Gulgrim, intent on crushing the ork under the enormous rusting bulk of its mace.
As Gulgrim’s shouts break the magical silence, Soul Reaver draws back his sword. His face shows only cruel determination as he apparently readies to cut down his prone opponent.
“You shall take nothing more from me!”
-
Gulgrum looks up from his assault and watches the world move in slow motion as the Plague Daemon's weapon comes soaring down toward him. 'Oh, dat's gonna hurt' ran through his head. 'now'd be a great time fer da-'
No sooner had the thought left his head than an octet of mighty, steel arms intercepted the oncoming club, steel groaning against daemonic mass. A set of Eight large, boxy steel forms stood flanking Gulgrim, each using one of their shoulders to take the weight of the club onto themselves and push back, slowing the weapon to a halt, servos grinding and sparking as they worked in overdrive to hold back the daemon's weapon.
Da Kaptin's Kabinet, Eight of Gulgrim's mightiest boss nobs, each interred in a super-powerful Deff Dredd to ensure they would remain on top, had come to their Warboss's aid. Their metallic frames, even with all eight of them working in unison, could only hold back the Daemon's weapon for a few moments, but that was all the time the Warboss needed.
"'S About time you lot showed up ta get stuck in!" Gulgrim laughed heartily, vanishing in a flash of lightning as the Dredds dropped their arms, the Daemon's weapon crashing to the ground where the Warboss had been a moment ago, splintering the ground and causing the Octet of Deff Dreads to reassess their footing. Once planted again, they set in about the Plague Daemon's mass with flamers, plasma guns, ripping blades and steely pincers, each packing enough ordnance to level a Land Raider, and each turning it on the Plague Daemon's rotten hide. Meanwhile, Gulgrim reappeared near the Plague Daemon's face, grinning widely before unleashing a torrent of Orky flame from his mouth directly at the creature's ugly visage, the fire blasting from him like a high-pressure hose.
-
The Seraphim is launched backwards as the earth beneath him suddenly shifts, while at the same time the barrier around him shatters as Blooddrinker pierces it and impales Danyael. He sees the crimson sphere materialize around them, but his focus was still disrupted after the sudden interruption of the prayer he had been channeling. Before he could react black chains burst into existance and ensare his limbs and wrapped around his body, some of the barbs managing to puncture through his armor. The angelic being shouts out as pain tears through him as he is wrenched up into the air. Before him he sees Danyael in a a similar chained state, the wound left behind by Blooddrinker seeping blood still. It was evident that his companion was completely exposed and defenseless. Jharm had watched as his "friend" had repeatedly assaulted them. He had ignored all their attempts at peacefully resolving this misunderstanding. He had grievously wounded all of them, almost felling their new orkish companion, and now was moments away from possibly claiming the life of another.
No....this must end! Here and now! All we do is waste valuable time and energy in this sadistic endeavor! Light...I know I have asked so much of your grace...but I need your aid once more. Grant me the strength to escape these vile bonds, save my companion.....and end this finally!
A faint light envelops the Seraphim as his muscles surge against the metal wrapped around him. The demonic chains possess incredible strength and durability...and they succeed at holding against the physical force against them for a while. However, as the Light washes over the Seraphim, it further magnifies the angels godly strength further, as well as slowly weaken the demonic energy that empowers the cables. The glowing orbs of the Seraphim gaze upon his stricken comrade as he struggles against his bindings. He knows he is losing precious seconds to be able to save Danyael. A bellow erupts from Jharm as he fights harder and harder against the chains, and even though the barbs dig deeper into his body he seems to be completely oblivious to the pain he is causing himself.
Finally after what seems an eternity to the Seraphim, the chains groan as the metal reaches its limits and the demonic power within is weakened and burned away by the holy light washing over it. With a final struggle the chains snap under the onslaught and Jharm crashes to the ground. As he struggles to his feet, silver blood seeping from the many wounds on his body, he glances up to see Soul Reaver raise Blooddrinker in a strike aimed at Danyael.
“You shall take nothing more from me!”
Getting to his feet, Jharm grasps his hammer as his eyes flare brilliantly, and though his voice seems to boom with power, one can sense a hint of sadness.
"You have sacrificed it all.....your honor....your dignity....everything. For what? Some twisted desire for revenge? You allowed HIM to gain control! If only you could truly see how far you have fallen....Soul Reaver. We took NOTHING......YOU have given up EVERYTHING!
The Seraphim spits a blob of silvery blood out of his mouth as he grasps his hammer in both his hands.
Light....should this be my end....into your loving embrace I send my spirit.
"This ends......NOW!"
As he finishes speaking the Seraphim launches into a head-on charge at Soul Reaver, a faint sphere of light appearing around him as the head of his sledge glows with Light as well. The time for peace and holding their attacks back was at an end. Either Soul Reaver would finally fall.....or the Seraphim's light would fade from existance.
-
Kitharsis is alerted by the flash of Danyael's barrier shattering. He watches in disbelief as Blooddrinker pierces through his friend. His stomach ties itself into knots as he watches Danyael pull the blade through himself and grab ahold of Soul Reaver.
Kitharsis charges toward them, hoping to save Danyael from further harm.
Every tattoo on his body is glaringly bright. With each step he takes large, menacing skeletons materialize beside him. They are much more powerful than the few he created before. Their eyes burn with the overflowing Tirthandaran energy flowing through them.
Kitharsis charges right past Jharm and Soul Reaver, intent on Danyael. He stops beside his friend. The tattoos on his arms explode with tendrils that wrap around the powerful chains. Kitharsis yells with effort as he supercharges the tendrils, and in one swift motion wrenches his arms to the side. The chains shatter and fall away in pieces as the intense energy of his tendrils cut through them.
Kitharsis gingerly catches Danyael and hastily carries him a safe distance away. The skeleton mage immediately begins weaving healing magic into Danyael's wound. A barrier of sand rises from the floor around them. The warmth of the desert radiates inside the barrier, aiding the healing magic. Kitharsis wordlessly guards his companion, hoping his meager efforts are enough to stave off the reaper.
Meanwhile, the army of skeletons fall upon Soul Reaver. Each one is formidable, even for one such as Soul Reaver. They leap onto his back, his arms, his legs and his head. They grab at any part of him left open. They twist and tear at him, hindering his movement and rending any exposed flesh. They are aware of Jharm and his strikes, and they assist the Holy warrior by creating openings for him to exploit. They are relentless in their pursuit.
Soul reaver will find that when one skeleton is batted away, another takes its place. For every one cut down two more wait for an opening out of his reach. The cackle of bones is deafening as they surround the Immortal warrior.
-
The Plague Daemon, already mortally wounded, is in no state to stand against Gulgrim, eight Deff Dreads and the tide of orks. Even its resilience against mundane attacks is not enough to withstand the barrage, and it soon collapses into a gurgling heap, its scorched head smouldering and giving off an acrid reek. The corpse rapidly dissolves into a foul slime before drying into a black dust that blows away on an ethereal wind.
As Soul Reaver’s weapon is about to fall, Jharm breaks free of the Chains of Agony and speaks in a booming voice. The distraction is fleeting, but enough: Kitharsis barrels past Soul Reaver. With a speed belying a creature of his size, Kitharsis rends the chains from Danyael’s limbs and hurls himself – and Danyael – outside the reach of the thirsting blade. Behind Kitharsis, newborn skeletal minions, radiating tangible power, leap onto Soul Reaver and prevent him from redirecting his attentions back onto Kitharsis’ ward.
In front of him, Jharm charges forward, his hammer radiating light and a sphere of energy around his body. A short distance away, Gulgrim is likely rallying his horde onto the only remaining target. And doubtlessly the others were rallying their counterattack as well.
Eyes flashing deep crimson, Soul Reaver gives a fanged snarl and a deep bass growl that is more felt than heard. He twists to hurl two minions from his back as more move in to engage him.
But his spell has not yet ended, and both the minions and Jharm are still within its deadly reach.
More rifts form on the inside periphery of the invisible sphere – so many that they momentarily make its surface almost opaque. A criss-crossing mass of undulating, razord-edged chains rattle from all directions at once. They form a fast-moving barrier in front of the chargining Jharm, hiding him from view. The Seraphim is beset from all directions with barbed harpoons seeking to pierce his protections and then wrap his limbs and body in the chains trailing behind them.
Kitharsis’ skeletons meanwhile suffer the brunt of the assault. The chains easily weave through the hollow ribcages and around the thin limbs of the minions, then yank them from Soul Reaver’s body with supernatural force.
In a moment of silence, as the chains go taut, Soul Reaver glances over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. He looks at Gulgrim’s green horde, sinister sorcery boiling from his body as he whispers arcane words.
A Mass Insanity spell envelops Gulgrim’s forces. A sinister madness takes root in the minds of those affected - each thinking they are bigger and badder than their warboss, a delusion only heightened by their adrenaline and their victory over the Plague Daemon. Driven to frenzied madness, they would try to violently take what they consider their rightful place as a new warboss.
Soul Reaver returns his attentions to the nearest foes, and makes a violent gesture with his left hand. Finally, the Chains of Agony spell runs its hideous course. Tearing at limbs, the barbed links retract at terrible speed. Their velocity makes them act like chainsaws, shredding through whatever is caught in their grip, before the serrations of the harpoons finally catch on their victim and tear what remains of them limb from limb.
The Retribution Shield surging around him, Soul Reaver lunges forward with Blooddrinker in hand, prepared to finish the job should Jharm somehow have survived…
-
The Seraphim continues his advance on Soul Reaver as the Plague Daemon collapses a short distance away. As this happens Kitharsis deftly speeds past the maddened warrior that is Jharms target, freeing their crippled comrade and both moving to safety. It is quite obvious this move has infuriated Soul as he snarls and growls and launches two of Kith's skeletal minions off his back. Then the knight turns his attention back to the advancing warrior of the Light. Countless more chains materialize and race to ensnare Jharm. Once again they wrap around the angels armored form.
"NO!"
A short distance behind the Seraphim three ethereal figures appear, all can sense incredible power from these figures...and somehow they all know that this power is but a fraction of what the three actually wield. One appears to be male and clad in heavy plate armor similar to Jharms, while the other two are female and flowing robes cover their forms. Hoods cover the females faces while a helm obscures the males head. The figures float towards the trapped form of Jharm, dark chains flying through the air towards the three. As the cables reache them though it passes through their forms , the metal begins to glow brightly and melt, as if passing through a roaring hot furnace. As the Council reaches Jharm, they each grasp a chain. Their hands seem to become less ethereal as they do this, power flowing from them and into the chains. The metal that had pierced the angels flesh and wrapped around his limbs glows and seems to simply disintegrate, the wounds it caused sealing up. The chain that still stretched through the air also glows and begins to melt like before, the molten slag dropping to the hellish ground below. Soon the Seraphim is free once more, a deep voice ringing through his mind at the same time.
Fear not Seraphim, we are always with you. You and your companions must end this now....there are much more demanding battles you must face soon.
Standing up Jharm raises his head as he gazes upon his corrupted friend once again. The Seraphim's eyes glow even brighter then normal as he feels the Council rejuvenate him.
"I said....ENOUGH! Enough of your dark machinations and twisted spells! You have betrayed EVERYTHING you stood for Soul Reaver! You have turned against your loyal friends and companions!"
The thoughts of the angelic being then recall an old companion....one who seemed closer to Soul Reaver then any of them. His one-time pupil...Asaki. Realization rushed into Jharm's mind as the connection was finally made. Asaki's departure had been preceded by a trial which many of her companions vouched for her character, and thus prevented her from being put to death. She was still forced to leave their company and assist some organization with their mission as penance.
That....must be what he is speaking of. We defended her though....she was spared because of us. His thoughts have truly been perverted.
Jharm saw one last opportunity to possibly end this fight without having to potentially kill Soul Reaver. Sadly with the knight's mind twisted and the demon almost in full control, it likely had the possibility to have the exact opposite effect. He had to risk it though if it meant a chance at sparing Soul's life. The angels voice seems to soften slightly but it still is clear enough that Soul can hear it.
"What would SHE think if she could see you right now? You threaten everything we ever fought for.....what she fought for."
His voice returns to its booming octave as he grips his hammer and continues his march towards Soul, his eyes flaring brightly once again.
"Face me as a warrior....steel for steel! Show that there is still a scrap of honor hidden somewhere within you!"
As he moves forward the ethereal forms of the Council fade away once again. This was a fight that the Seraphim and his companions must end, they could not interfere more then what they had already done. The Seraphim could only hope that he and his companions would manage to combine their attacks enough to finally end this sad battle between companions.
-
As Gulgrim stood triumphantly over the defeated plague demon and let out a booming victory WAAAGH!, some of the gits under his command, spurred by Soul Reaver's spell and the exultation of such a massive kill, decided now was the time to vie for the position of Warboss. When gits opened fire at him, Gulgrim turned, glaring at them. Those immediately within sight of his gaze backed down, but that still left the majority of the horde attempting to punch their way to him to try for his position. The Kaptin's Kabinet, so close to Gulgrim's proximity, were unaffected, his aura undoubtedly painting him as da biggest an' da strongest. Gulgrim decided he didn't have time for this, and would leave it to his trusted bosses to put down this insurrection.
"Oi. You lot, get dem gitz back in line whilez I goes ta 'ave a 'chat' wif dat spikey git."
"You got it boss, we'll 'ave dese boyz back in line reel qwik." One of the deff dreads bellowed out, before the group of them turned and laid about at the boyz around them, proving their supremacy with a quick thump. Size and power was the key method of Ork hierarchy. If these boyz could krump any of the gits that were tryin' fer warboss, an' dey wuz still smaller dan da warboss, the mob would be back in line in short order. Bullets skipped off their heavy armor as they laid about, cutting down or sending flying any Orks in their way as they set about subjugating the unruly horde once more.
"Oi! Spikey git! You'z got unfinished business wif me!" Gulgrim shouted, firing off some warning shots into the air as he approached, his kutlass held high. But nonetheless, he would give the serry-fim his shot. He kept a respectable distance as the angel charged, waiting for any sign of Jharm being in over his head. At that point, the Warboss would truly lay in.
-
The skeletons cling onto Soul Reaver as the razor edged chains snake through their bones. Their bony fingers lose purchase as they are yanked away with supernatural force. The chains go taught, then retract, separating the bones from their bindings.
Cracked and splintering bones fly in all directions, bouncing off of each other and settling underfoot. The glowing eye sockets of the countless skulls littering the ground sputter and blink out.
Meanwhile, inside the barrier of sand, Kitharsis lowers Danyael. His companion's body is cushioned by a rising cradle of sand as he lets go. What's done is done. There is no sense wallowing while the others are still in danger.
"Do what you can to help him." Kitharsis says to the little mage.
The Tirthandara steps through the sand barrier. It parts around his body, and closes in tight behind him. If Danyael were to recover and wanted to return to the battle, the barrier would do the same.
With a quick scan, Kitharsis takes stock of the situation.
It appears the chains have done their work on them... Time for phase two.
The skull tattoo on Kitharsis's forearm flares to life. The eyes of a single decapitated skull resting on the ground come alive. Kitharsis raises his arm into the air. The skull mimics his action as it rises from the ground.
"Now." He says, purposefully.
The thousands and thousands of bones scattered across the battlefield fly into the air all at once. It becomes evident that Kitharsis's intentions for these skeletons are for more than a diversion. The bones convalesce into one mass surrounding the floating skull. They churn and writhe as they settle against themselves. Before long they take shape.
A towering bone golem rises. The many skulls of the individual skeletons roil in a pile atop its massive shoulders. It swings its arms, pounding the ground beneath it. A tremor rumbles through the ground in the immediate area from the force.
It's countless eyes turn and focus on Soul Reaver. He and Jharm were on a collision course for each other. The golem's heavy footsteps carry the mass of bones toward Soul Reaver's flank.
Kitharsis's own heavy footsteps carry him opposite the skeletal golem, his horseman's pick in hand. Should Jharm fail to overpower Soul Reaver, Kitharsis is ready with a one-two punch.
-
The lance of black energy hisses and spits as it forces its way through the shining barrier surrounding Fei Serumen. It seems like an age, but is likely only a second, before the lance breaks through. Fei narrows his eyes in dismay as the lance then suddenly splits into innumerable slivers.
“Crap.”
Fei’s supernatural speed would allow him more than enough time to dodge just one of the projectiles, but as fast as he is, he is in mid-air, and still takes up a certain amount of space… and there are MANY projectiles. With the sickening sound of piercing flesh, Fei is skewered by numerous glittering needles, each over a meter long, the impact punching him backward and changing the trajectory of his fall.
Fei twists his body to readjust his angle of descent, when the needles seem to vibrate and shiver. Just as Fei lands neatly on the ground – balancing on his fingertips and his remaining foot - each of the needles suddenly implode in upon itself, then detonates with a soundless explosion, wreathing him in a cloud of black smoke…
-
The Kaptin’s Kabinet wades into battle against the Ork boyz, but it soon becomes apparent that something is wrong. An ork is thumped to the ground, breaking its shoulder and sending its choppa flying, only to leap back up, spittle flying from its mouth, roaring in defiance as it leaps back at the Deff Dread.
Orks fall in quick succession, but the next in line are not cowed – they scrabble over the fallen and unconscious bodies and leap in a maddened red haze toward Gulgrim. It was becoming clear that these orks are completely crazed: they are out to kill, at all costs, with no regard to anything around them. The green tide begins to surge over and past the Kaptin’s Kabinet. Despite their strength, there were too few of them to hold the sheer numbers at bay. Their goal is Gulgrim himself. Screaming incoherently, madly waving a nail-studded club in the air, the first of the Orks to break through rushes at Gulgrim just as Gulgrim finishes bellowing his challenge at Soul Reaver.
Soul Reaver, in the meantime, has his attentions focussed on Jharm, ready to strike a killing blow. However, he had not reckoned with the appearance of the Angelic Council. The surge of holy energy that accompanies their arrival washes over him, making an almost audible sizzling sound as it does so. Soul Reaver flinches and is forced to avert his eyes. It is only momentary, but it is enough – in that moment, the Council frees Jharm from the chains. Soul Reaver leaps forward, snarling, but Blooddrinker cleaves only air – Jharm having backed up enough to evade the blow.
“I said....ENOUGH! Enough of your dark machinations and twisted spells! You have betrayed EVERYTHING you stood for Soul Reaver! You have turned against your loyal friends and companions!”
Soul Reaver changes to a defensive stance, preparing to face the onslaught of the mighty seraphim.
“What would SHE think if she could see you right now? You threaten everything we ever fought for.....what she fought for.”
For that moment, Soul Reaver’s expression changes, and he looks down at the sword in his hand, a look of confusion on his face.
Barbed thoughts savage his mind. He cannot tell if the thoughts are his own or those of something else, for they echo something deep and black in his own heart.
But she cannot see me now, can she? For she is gone now, and none of us – none of THEM – did anything to stop it.
His maddened face rises again to meet the Seraphim’s advancing form.
“Face me as a warrior....steel for steel! Show that there is still a scrap of honor hidden somewhere within you!”
This, as it turns out, may have been the wrong thing to say. Soul Reaver responds with a shout that would shatter eardrums and bring the most courageous warriors to their knees. Even the Seraphim’s implacable advance would be momentarily halted by the sheer malevolent force of his roar.
“HONOUR?! I WILL SHOW YOU THE WAGES OF HONOUR!”
The black, smoky wings once more burst from his back, larger than they had been before, and his shadowy left arm swirls like a miniature tornado. Deep red flames lick from his eyes and arcs of power crackle from his body. Blooddrinker is brought up above Soul Reaver’s shoulder height, the bulging, pulsing blade pointed straight at the Seraphim.
Soul Reaver’s next move would likely have had fatal consequences for someone – either himself, or his friend. But a heavy tremor suddenly causes the ground to heave beneath Soul Reaver’s feet. He maintains his footing, and turns his head to see a massive skeletal golem bearing down upon him. The mass of grinning skulls and burning eye sockets lumbers forward, deliberate and determined. Kitharsis is keeping pace next to it.
Eyes blazing, Soul Reaver looks over to Jharm. His smoky black left arm gestures in a wide arc as he speaks words of sorcery. In response, a towering sheet of daemonic black fire erupts from the ground and roars many meters into the air. The Darkfire wall separates Jharm from Soul Reaver, hiding them from each other’s sight.
But Kitharsis and the bone golem are still coming, and are not blocked by the flames. With no hesitation, Soul Reaver leaps into the air, and with a mighty thrust of his shadowy pinions, launches himself toward them.
Another word of magic rings in the air, and in that instant, there appear to be TWO Soul Reavers – one heading straight for Kitharsis, the other for the golem. Only one of them is real, for the Mirror Image spell cannot truly duplicate a person – only create a convincing illusion of their presence - but there is no way for Kitharsis to know which is which, and no time to find a way to counter the spell!
In moments, Blooddrinker is descending straight downward onto Kitharsis head in a massive overhead chop…
Meanwhile, the real Soul Reaver slams feet-first into the golem’s ‘chest’, skulls splintering under the impact. Two-handed, he drives Blooddrinker into the golem right up to its hilt. His muscles ripple as, lightning fast, he runs up the length of the golem, tearing Blooddrinker along with him, the sword greedily sucking up the energy animating the golem as it cuts.
Soul Reaver reaches the top of the golem and performs a backward flip as the sword rips free. At the apex, Soul Reaver sees something at the far end of the battlefield…
-
The smoke gradually clears, and Fei Serumen’s form is revealed again. His body and limbs are filled with gaping holes. But no blood falls from the wounds – instead, they ooze with the thick, impenetrable blackness of the Abyss itself. With an exaggerated mournful look, Fei looks himself over.
“That actually hurt…”
The black crystalline Shadows Kiss blades rematerialize in his hands as from nowhere. He steps from the liquid darkness around him, his missing leg somehow restored. The Abyss tugs at him as he walks, as though reluctant to let him go.
“That idiot. This has to end.”
His gaze fixes on Soul Reaver, who is just now at the apex of a jump, having attacked a massive skeletal golem – one of Kitharsis’ constructs, no doubt. At that moment, their eyes lock.
To the mortal observer, what follows would seem to be nothing more than a blur in the air; an enigmatic flash of flame and darkness. But to Fei and Soul Reaver, it was its own eternity of battle and blood.
Fei leaps toward Soul Reaver, shadowy afterimages trailing in his wake. The air parts sluggishly before him as time itself seems to drop away. Soul Reaver, more slowly, but still noticeable, twists himself upright in mid air, speaking words of magic. His wings outstretch, then flap once with enormous power, hurling the maddened warrior on a collision course with Fei.
Soul Reaver’s body is suffused with powerful sorcery, and a deep burning energy flows from his sword to reinforce it. The unnatural burst of speed and power would last only a brief moment, but likely a moment is all he had to survive the coming onslaught.
Both warriors slam together in midair, three-fourths of the initial distance between Fei and Soul Reaver. Unexpectedly, Fei finds his initial slash impacts upon Blooddrinker, which has been brought up in a swift parry.
Soul Reaver is not himself – perhaps it is the exertion, or the effects of the powers he is wielding, but he looks more Daemonic than ever. His teeth gleam as fangs, his mouth almost a snout. His eyes are hidden amidst roaring, deep crimson fires. A pair of shadowy horns seem faintly visible from his forehead.
Fei realizes his old friend will not hold back, and the only option to hit fast, hit hard, and hope that somehow this will prevent his friend from being consumed entirely. Time seems to slip even further away, and Fei attacks.
Fei Serumen unleashes a barrage of thrusts and lunges, each so quick that the tips of his blades start a sonic boom. Soul Reaver could not possibly match their speed, and yet he somehow manages to keep pace – holding Blooddrinker as though it were light as air, he deflects attacks through a combination of highly efficient positioning, brute force and something almost akin to precognition. Somehow, his crimson blade seems to know where the next blow will be coming from, and manages to intersperse itself to prevent a fatal blow. In turn, it too lunges and dances, supported by the smoky slashes from Soul Reaver’s daemonic talon.
Neither warrior can seem to get the upper hand. Both avoid the fatal attacks, but are forced to concede the lesser ones. Blood sprays from Soul Reaver’s body, trailing away in a lazy mist from newly-opened wounds. Fei’s flesh does not bleed – it oozes blackness when struck, the Abyss flowing around him in thin, twisting trails.
The two warriors whirl in midair, but the ground is fast approaching. Soul Reaver’s body shines with a sheen of sweat, and the blackness of his wings, arm and horns only seem to deepen.
A sharp ‘ting’ is heard from Blooddrinker as the blade develops another crack along its length. It does not escape Fei Serumen’s notice.
His face impassive, Fei looks into Soul Reaver’s crazed eyes, and does not see Soul Reaver looking back. Fei clenches his jaw muscles in determination – he knows what must be done.
With his left hand, he bats aside Soul Reaver’s talon, feints with his right, whirls around with impossible speed and….
Multiple sonic booms burst from the middle of the battlefield where, in the blinking of an eye ago, Soul Reaver and Fei Serumen had joined the battle. Their combined roar is enough to blast nearby chunks of concrete into dust and throw anyone further away flat onto the ground. Following them, tiny droplets of Soul Reavers blood spray across an area of several meters, painting it light crimson.
An almost eerie silence follows. Two figures stand, facing each other.
One of the Shadow’s Kiss blades is outstretched. It has entered Soul Reaver’s chest and emerges cleanly from his back. A pair of horns on Soul Reaver’s forehead, barely visible, flicker and then blow away into nothingness on an ethereal wind.
Blooddrinker is outstretched. It has punched through Fei Serumen’s chest, its grotesque point looming from Fei’s back. Abyssal blackness drips from the entry and exit points of the weapon.
There is no sound other than that of steel on bone as the two figures pull their blades out of each other. Soul Reaver sags and staggers backward, a flickering, shadowy talon going to his chest. A gout of hot, bright red blood pumps from the deep wound.
Fei Serumen flinches but stays standing tall as Blooddrinker is pulled free. Blackness pours liberally from the hole in his chest. He looks aside, and says to no-one in particular:
“Heh. I think I deserve a holiday after this one.”
The living, writhing blackness flows over Fei Serumen. And then, like a shadow, both it - and he - are gone.
-
As Gulgrim watches the battle ensuing in front of him, a lone ork slips by the Kabinet, swinging a weapon at his Kaptin. It bounces off of Gulgrim's 'eavy armour, but it catches the kaptin's attention. With a baleful glance, Gulgrim looks down at the offending Ork, and with a lance of heat, the smaller runt's face melts away under Gulgrim's stare.
Apparently the boyz were feeling rowdier than usual today if even the Kabinet couldn't put 'em back in line. Guess the boss'd better set things straight once and for all.
"I'M GULGRIM BONECRUNCHA!" the Ork howled, stamping his foot to the ground with a force that caused the ground to shake. In a heavy bolt of lightning, a swathe of the Ork army disappeared from the battlefield.
"I'Z DA BIGGEST!" THUMP. Another stomp, and another flash, and yet more Orks disappear from the field of view.
"AND I'Z DA STRONGEST!" with another earth-shaking slam, more Orks vanish into the aether.
"ANY O' YOU LOT WOT QUESTION ME CAN ZOG OFF, YA LOUSY RUNTS!" Gulgrim slams all four limbs into the ground, the earth cracking under him, and in a torrent of green lightning, the Army disappears. Once again, the only hint of green on the battlefield is the Kaptin himself. The Kabinet, the army, all of it is gone, save the Warboss. With an almost weary look, Gulgrim raises his gaze to find the object of his troubles. He spots the battered and bloodied Soul Reaver in the distance as Fei vanishes into the abyss. Lifting himself off the ground, Gulgrim hefts his kutlass and shoota once more and begins stomping his way towards the smaller figure.
But something isn't quite right. There's a strange wavering to the Ork's form as he presses onward. He flickers from place to place as he walks, appearing randomly at various different angles, always slowly approaching Soul Reaver. Green fire trails from his boots as he walks, his face grim, lacking the haughty, fang-filled grin the Kaptin usually wore. Lightning strikes the ground all around him, kicking up hunks of dirt and powderized stone. Green energy seems to be leaking from every orifice of the Kaptin's bulk, and simply diffusing out of his frame around him. Has the Kaptin overexerted himself? Is he preparing some strange attack? Is he simply zogged off? It was difficult to tell, but there was a strange, perhaps not beneficial change to the air around the mad Warboss.
Whatever the case was, Gulgrim did not seem to be attacking, nor was he making any headway on his march towards Soul Reaver. Every time he vanished from sight he reappeared the same distance away he had been when he began his march, just in a different location on the imaginary circle he seemed to be drawing around Soul Reaver. The effect was almost eerie, to see the normally jovial and loud-mouthed warboss grim and silent, almost tired-looking, his massive, huge-mawed face almost slack and drooping.
No matter the sound of battle around him, Gulgrim's march seemed to drive home in everyone's ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. ZAP! Thump. Thump. Thump. ZAP!
Three steps, then a flash. Always. The drone slowly grows louder, however. The sound of heavy boots hitting earth, and the strike of green lightning seems to grow louder and more invasive the longer Gulgrim's death-march continues.
-
Cameron is forced to divert most of his energy to create a shield when Soul Reaver drops from between himself and Gulgrim. This diverts most of the fire away from him long enough for him to drop back to the ground and out of harm's way. He takes a moment to recover as Soul Reaver continues to devote all of his attention to the angry ork.
Then Gulgrim is felled by a spell. Cameron summons his swords and prepares to charge in, but stops short as Kitharsis arrives. Cameron witnesses the blow that causes Blooddrinker to crack. The sight of the fractured blade fills him with dread. A mental message is sent to all nearby companions.
"If we are to have any hope of undoing this, we cannot allow that sword to break! We have to disarm Soul Reaver! Get that blade away from him!"
Cameron rushes in, seeing Fei charging in ahead of him. As Fei attacks, Cameron unleashes a hail of bolter fire from his arm mounted storm bolters to distract Soul Reaver further and keep him from blocking or parrying. At the same time, Cameron attempts to communicate with Soul Reaver telepathically.
"Soul Reaver, stop this! Blooddrinker is going to escape if you press this further! Let us help you control him!"
Cameron Aileron attempts to psychically contact Soul Reaver but after the first few words get through, he suddenly feels a massive barrier erected to block his telepathic message. To his psychic vision, it looks like a looming, horrifying winged humanoid, interspersing itself between Cameron and Soul Reaver. It glares back at him with narrowed, glowing eyes filled with nothing but hate.
Cameron dismisses the winged image from his mind. In doing so, he feels tugs from two different psychic connections that are still present. Soul Reaver attacks again, but Cameron has lost all interest in the battle still raging before him. He teleports away in a flash of smoke and fire seconds before a swarm of dark blades slices through the air now occupying his previous position. He re-appears well outside of the range of the battle, at the black barrier separating him from the remainder of his friends… and Peterson.
The barrier is strong, but the link with two entities on the other side of it is stronger. I can almost make out shapes, colors, flashes of light, muffled sounds… I need to get closer.
Cameron now turns his back on his companions completely. He quickly flies outside of the range of the battle and back to the barrier. He clashes against it a few more times with his blades, to no avail. He allows his weapons to dissipate and places both gauntleted hands on the barrier, dismissing all else from his mind.
It’s clearer now. I can make out the vague shapes of my friends, fighting a monstrous power. Kalana is there. I can feel my link to her. If I can just focus more…
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Kalana and the Elementals dive for cover as more catwalks and debris from the warehouse fall around them. Above them, Peterson cackles maniacally as he lashes all around him with his seemingly infinite blade-tipped chains, ripping the celing and support structures down. Kalana snarls as she erects barrier after barrier to protect her allies.
“This is pointless. We can’t keep staying on the defensive. We have to get him down on the ground!”
Mary snarls a reply as her blade rips through a falling section of concrete.
“Yeah, you’re right. Where do you want us?”
Kalana feels time seem to slow down around her as she expends her psychic energy inward, boosting her thought process to give her time to think. After what seems like barely a second to the others, she snaps alert again.
“Everyone, draw your elemental blades and charge him head on. He’ll have to focus to defend against the sudden onslaught. I’ll get behind him and try to knock him down.”
The elementals shoot each other a wary glance. They know that Cameron has not drawn Valermos yet, and drawing theirs now could force his hand. Mary is the first to drop her two-handed blade and reach for the hilt of Morthoseth.
“She’s right. Our attacks have done nothing so far. We must act.”
Mary rips Morthoseth from it’s scabbard and Kari, Karyl, and Garr follow suit with Luciandar, Cinthorc, and Molotoch. They launch themselves at Peterson. Seeing them coming, Peterson retracts his chains and prepares to defend and counter. This leaves his back exposed.
Kalana moves quickly. In a flash, she has teleported to the ceiling, hanging in midair behind Peterson’s hulking metal frame. She lunges forward…
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Cameron strains against the barrier with his mind. He feels the sudden pull of all of the elemental blades save his being drawn. Normally this would be impossible to ignore, but his mind continues to be pulled relentlessly towards the barrier.
Now I can see. Mary. Karyl. Kari. Garr. They’re charging. Peterson… he’s there waiting. I’m behind him? No. Not me. I’m looking through someone else’s eyes. Kalana! She’s behind him! She has an opening!
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As Kalana closes the distance between her and Peterson, she suddenly feels a presence rush into her mind. It’s Cameron. He seems overjoyed to have finally broken through to her. But ahead of her, Peterson suddenly perks his head up. Kalana knows what has happened and tries to stop, but her full momentum is invested in this attack and she can do nothing but sail forward as Peterson turns to face her. His face is stretched into an awful rictus.
“Wrong again, Cameron!”
Peterson brings his knee into Kalana’s midsection. He then follows up with an open palm strike into her chest. She feels her ribs shattering and cries out in pain. Peterson then simply bats her out of the sky with a kick to the head. As she falls, he sends a group of chains after her, meaning to impale her before she hits the ground. But Peterson has to divert his attention to the attacking Elementals to avoid being overrun, and the chains miss their mark, slamming into the ground around her as she lands in a heap. Peterson continues grinning as he defends himself from the Elementals with blade and chain.
“She HAD an opening. But then you screwed it up. Did you forget? I can see everything you see, and hear every thought you form in that useless head of yours. As long as she is still hopelessly bound to your mind, she’ll never have an opening on me. And you get to just sit there and watch.”
Kalana groans as she makes her way back to her feet. She coughs and wipes blood from her lips. Her insides feel like glass. She glances up at Peterson before looking back towards the barrier.
Cameron! What are you doing? You’re supposed to be helping Master Reaver! As long as he’s still in your head, you being here is a liability to all of us!
On the other side of the barrier, Cameron drops to his knees. He knows that he should be paying attention to the fight behind him, but he cannot force himself to break the connection with Kalana.
I… I can’t. I can’t look away. Something’s drawing me here.
Cameron and Kalana both flinch as another voice enters their minds.
Yep, that’s me. I’m making Cameron watch me kill off the rest of his race and his lover, while his friends die behind him without his help. Glorious, is it not? The ultimate revenge for what he has done to us. And when Reaver wakes up and realizes what he’s done to his companions, it will be the ultimate revenge on him as well. All that, plus I got a new job with a swanky employer and AMAZING benefits. Everything’s coming up James Peterson today!
Peterson lashes out with a wave of energy, shoving the Elementals away from him.
“I’m going to murder all of you and there’s not a damn thing that either of those poor sad saps can do about it!”
The Elementals attack again, but it’s obvious that Peterson is just toying with them. One by one he knocks them away. Karyl’s electric attacks fizzle with little effect. Garr’s attempts at shadow-play are easily intercepted. Kari’s blade cannot strike true through the mass of chains blocking it. And even Mary, the strongest of them, cannot seem to make an attack without it being parried by the daemon blade Drach’nyen.
Kalana wants to fly up and help them, but Peterson will be able to predict her every attack. She is useless as long as he has Cameron focused on this fight. She has to do something. Her attention turns back to the barrier. She can feel Cameron on the other side of it. She clears her mind of all thought to stop Peterson from sensing what she is doing. She then quickly crosses to the barrier, directly across from where Cameron is.
Cameron… brace yourself.
Without giving Cameron or Peterson a chance to reply, she slams her hands against the barrier. Blue lightning crackles from her eye sockets and around her head as she focuses the entirety of her remaining psychic energy on her link with Cameron. There is a blinding flash, and then Kalana’s body falls limp.
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On the other side of the barrier, Cameron is thrown backwards by the sudden surge of energy. He can still feel Kalana in his mind, but it is no longer through a link.
Ugh. Cramped in here. Cameron, why is so much of your mind still closed off? I thought we were making way better progress than this.
Cameron smirks at the voice echoing in his mind.
It’s not like we’ve had a lot of time to train, Kalana. I’ve been sort of busy.
Peterson’s voice rings out in his head, drowning out Kalana’s response.
What is this? Where did you go? Are you INSIDE Cameron’s mind? That’s veeeeery interesting. Because your body’s still over here… completely defenseless.
Kalana can feel Peterson’s presence, somewhere deep behind the closed doors of Cameron’s mind. She can find him. But she needs time.
Cameron. Tell them to protect me. NOT with your mind. Use your sword.
Cameron looks down at Valermos, still sheathed with the Earth blade Anathros at his side. Even the pull of the other blades being drawn hadn’t been enough to break Peterson’s trance on him. He places a hand on it's hilt. He can immediately feel his connection with the other blades and their wielders.
“Valermos, tell the others. Protect Kalana at all costs. It’s our only shot.”
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On the other side of the barrier, Peterson shrugs off a few blows as he summons green chaos fire from his fingertips.
Cameron, I hope you enjoy having a permanent house guest in your head, cause I’m about to incinerate your girlfriend.I hope you can feel this. I WANT you to feel this. This is what it feels like to fail.
Peterson hurls a wave of fire at Kalana’s defenseless body. But just before it makes impact, a flash of gold light lands just in front of her. The fire parts and is deflected to either side. Mary is there, in true elemental form. Morthoseth glows a violent purple in one hand as she wields a gold shield of pure elemental energy in the other. Wings stretch behind her, shielding Kalana from view. Her pupil-less eyes burn with golden fire.
“Alright, big guy. Round 2.”
Peterson scowls.
“Do you really think a new paint job and flashy lights are going to make the result of this any different than last time?”
Mary spits at the ground and snarls a reply.
“Maybe not. But it was one on one last time too.”
Peterson is caught off guard by the other elementals attacking from behind. Kalana is no longer there, and that means that Cameron cannot see the battlefield. He can no longer use him to predict their attacks. He manages to catch most of the blow with his chains but is still knocked off balance, which is all the opening that Mary needs. In seconds, she is on him, striking him with shield and sword and knocking him to the ground. The metal corpse leaves a crater on impact. His chains flail about mindlessly for a moment before dissipating. But this is only a temporary respite. Peterson is already stirring.
“Morthoseth, tell Valermos that we’ve got this. Let Kalana do her thing.”
Mary nods to the other elementals and they all lunge downward at Peterson, pressing the attack.
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Peterson’s presence in Cameron’s mind has receded for the moment due to the onslaught he is facing on the other side of the barrier. Kalana focuses on Cameron’s mind. It, like most minds, is a twisting maze of corridors and passages. But this is different. The architecture is alien, and the corridors are even more complicated than normal.
You know, I always forget that you’re not actually human. Even your mind is structured differently than ours.
Back in reality, Cameron frowns. With Peterson’s hold on him temporarily released, he has turned his back on the barrier and is now watching his companions try and stop Soul Reaver. Things aren’t going well.
Well, I hope it isn’t going to be too much of a problem, because we don’t have a lot of time. On either side of the barrier.
Kalana pauses to allow her mind’s eye to see what Cameron is looking at. The view is grim.
Yes. They need you. And Mary, Garr, Karyl, and Kari need me as well. I’ll try to make this quick.
Kalana looks around at the twisting jumble of hallways and passages before her. There’s no time to search them all. Fortunately, she doesn’t have to. No mind is locked to her.
Cameron, this might be… a bit uncomfortable.
Kalana focuses and raises her hands, and every door in Cameron’s mind flies open. Cameron is flooded with memories and thoughts, jumbled together in an unorganized mass. He is overwhelmed, but Kalana ignores this and forces her way through the noise. And deep in the back, she feels it. A malignant presence. Something that doesn’t belong here. She begins to run.
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The battle is much less one-sided now that the Elementals are fighting at full strength, but Peterson still has the upper hand. He ducks a surprise attack by Garr and parries a shield swing by Mary. Karyl feints with his “axe” before driving his sword home but only manages to gut Peterson’s after-image. Peterson moves to retaliate but runs into a wall of ice created by Kari. He smashes through it just in time to take a guitar to the face. The shockwave should have been enough to drive him backwards a few hundred meters, but instead he stops himself and smashes Karyl with the flat of Drach’nyen, sending him to the ground. He then just barely avoids having his head severed by a two handed blow from Mary. he whips around and locks blades with her while parrying simultaneous attacks from Garr and Kari with his chains.
“Come now, girl. This is just like before. Even with the addition of your friends, you’re only going to succeed in keeping me locked in this stalemate for so long. Your energy is limited, and I have an unlimited supply.”
Mary doesn’t reply. Instead, she breaks off and unleashes another flurry of blows. Peterson parries them all.
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll make you a deal. Hand over Cameron’s pwecious wittle waifu, and I’ll let you all live! None of you are on my shit list yet. It’s Cameron I want. So just take off! No strings attached!”
Mary again doesn’t respond. This time, she disappears. Karyl was waiting behind her, and he strums his guitar and blasts Peterson backwards with what appears to be a laser beam from it’s neck. He tries to right himself but suddenly finds himself engulfed by smoke and shadows. He stops himself to get his bearings and then is struck head on by a volley of ice spears which rip through his exposed circuitry. Annoyed, he snaps them all off and hurls himself out of the cloud before anything else can surprise him. His vision clears just in time to see Mary’s fist before it collides with the fleshy part of his face. Stunned, Peterson barely escapes another killing blow from her as he staggers backwards.
“ENOUGH!”
Chains swirl around Peterson, driving the Elementals away from him. Inside the swirling mass of metal, Peterson smirks.
“Now you’re all on my shit list.”
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Kalana reaches the last chamber in Cameron’s mind. There are a few things buried down here. Memories of the time before Inferia was destroyed. Anger and grief over various losses. But also here is what appears to be a tumor. Of course, it’s not a real tumor. This is just Kalana’s mind giving shape to what she’s experiencing. But it certainly looks like a tumor. A living thing. Pulsing and writhing. She shudders momentarily.
“This is it. This is how you’ve been doing this.”
Kalana summons all of the power that she has left.
“I hope this kills you. But if not, I hope it hurts you bad enough that you think twice before trying this shit again.”
From inside the pulsing mass of flesh, she hears Peterson’s voice.
Wait, what? What are you- Oh. Oh you BITCH.
Peterson’s voice is cut off as Kalana brings a two-handed spear of psychic power down into the tumor. It sizzles, burns, and then bursts in a pulse of foul energy. Kalana feels Peterson’s presence flee Cameron’s mind. The link is closed. He is free.
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As Peterson hovers inside of his wall of chains, he begins building power. The time for playing around is over. It’s time to punish these fools for their insolence and then get onto the good stuff. Namely, stuffing Kalana’s head in a box so that he can gift wrap it and hand it to Cameron when the barrier falls. Oh,, to see the look on his face-
I hope this kills you. But if not, I hope it hurts you bad enough that you think twice before trying this shit again.
He had forgotten all about Kalana and Cameron. He could feel her doing something through the mental link, but was unable to pinpoint exactly what it was until now.
“Wait, what? What are you- Oh. Oh you BITCH.”
Peterson tries to withdraw, but it’s too late. His connection to Cameron’s mind is abruptly severed. THe feedback overwhelms him and he loses all concentration. All of his gathered energy is lost and his chains fall away. The elementals spot this immediately. Mary shouts to the rest of them.
“There’s our opening. HIT HIM NOW.”
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Cameron shakes his head, finally clear of the pull that was locking him in place. He hadn’t noticed Peterson’s presence when it was there, but now that is gone he feels more collected and in control than he has in months. He can still feel Kalana’s presence in his mind as well, burning like a sun.
Cameron: Thank you.
Kalana: You’re welcome.
Cameron: You should get back to your body.
Kalana: Not yet. We have a minute. Peterson will take some time to recover. Let’s deal with Master Reaver, while we have the chance.
Cameron looks to the battle. Soul Reaver and Fei have just finished attacking each other. Soul Reaver stumbles back, wounded, while Fei vanishes. Cameron silently hopes that it isn’t the last they’d see of the Antediluvian as he tries to come up with a plan of attack.
We need to hit him hard. Something that he can’t defend against. That’s the only way to get him to snap out of this. We have to incapacitate him to break Blooddrinker’s hold.
Cameron can feel a surge of power building within him. Kalana is in his mind, taking his full attunement to the element of fire and spreading it to the other elements. He feels the pull of both elemental blades sheathed at his side and resists them both. Kalana has other ideas.
Let’s hit him with everything we’ve got, then.
Cameron’s eyes flash, first orange, then white, then a burning blue as he and Kalana’s consciousnesses merge. He launches himself towards the fray.Kalana guides Cameron's hands as he reaches down and grabs the hilts of both elemental blades. Valermos pulls forth freely, but Anathros again resists. He should not be able to wield this blade, since it is made for earth elementals. But Kalana re-aligns Cameron's mind even further, and with his connection to the elements now fully in tune, Anathros comes free from it's scabbard.
Cameron then leaps into the air at blinding speed and bursts through the impossibly high roof of the warehouse. He looks into the sky and spies rocks and debris from the asteroid floating in space. He focuses on one about the size of a tank. With his control over the element of earth and Kalana’s psychic pull, he is able to pull it towards him. It breaks into the asteroid’s atmosphere, and Cameron stokes the flames that form around it, turning the hunk of rock into a burning comet that he directs straight towards the warehouse. He increases it’s speed until it’s falling far faster than it should be.
Miles over Soul Reaver’s head, the roof of the massive warehouse completely caves in. The burning asteroid streams straight towards him, tearing through catwalks and cables and melting the metal and plastic into molten slag that only serves to feed the flames around the rock and make them that much more deadly. The impact will vaporize everything in the area. But the companions near Soul Reaver find themselves shielded from this by psychic barriers. Soul Reaver himself will not be so fortunate.
Cameron himself streaks just ahead of the oncoming meteor with Valermos and Anathros out in front of him. His eyes rapidly flash between white and blue and blue fire trails behind him. He lashes out at Soul Reaver with both blades just seconds before the meteor’s impact. His goal is to force Soul Reaver to parry these blows and thus not give him time to protect himself against the coming explosion.
-
Sepher’s eyes narrow dangerously as his spear punches through the retribution armor and his spear begins to slide into Soulreaver’s flesh, but at the last moment, Soul turns to look back to him and Sepher’s eyes suddenly widen a bit with shock. Where Soul had been before, he wasn’t quite there now.
His spear had pierced flesh, but nothing fatal, nothing substantial even and it had not slowed him. He suddenly found himself hurtling straight into danyael, spear first. The spear that was meant to pierce the heart of darkness before them, now slid right towards one of his companions.
In his head he could hear the daemons cheer and rage at this sudden change of events and his sight goes just slightly fuzzy as they try to take over once more. Being halfway in daemon form, it takes much more effort to control them than it would have had he been fully human. That energy, that precious control it took, meant that he did not have much to give to changing his course or diverting his path.
He didn’t have much time to register what was going on behind him, Soul shifting his talon to a wicked curved blade, the thin glowing orange line of the scythe arc sending out a shockwave of power into the minions fighting. No, he didn’t have much time for that, though Danyael seems to somehow spin away from his spear, leaving his companion unharmed by what would have been a fairly lethal blow.
As light of the scythe blow spread outward and the shockwave hit, he slowly turned to face the fight once more, his momentum still carrying him what had been forward, but was now backwards so he could react and carry himself away from the immediate threats. The energy of the shockwave hit him, but his chaos magic seemed to bolster the enhanced crimson steel that made his armor so special.
As he spun though, his double is sliced in half, the energies washing over him from blow and pushing him further backwards. His concentration on his daemons wavered for just a moment, and once more they tried to wrest control. It took enough of his focus away that he caught some debris on the field and tumbled to the ground, slamming through concrete and other materials alike. The momentum from his attack had finally been halted, but slowly, his vision clouds to black and he finds himself elsewhere for a moment.
Jharms prayer and shield seem to envelope the warrior who had been buried in debris, but he does not seem to be coming out from where he had fallen.
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Sepher walked through a graveyard. Thick, yellowed grass and weeds choked the dirt that surrounded the graves. Above, a bright moon bore down on him, red and angry, anchoring his thoughts. Yes, he was there. In that place. His homeworld. Why was he here? How was he here? He destroyed the planet when he had been unable to control himself. He looked down to the graves and his face twisted in pain.
The names of his wife and daughter were evident, and though they were worn, the graves of everyone he knew surrounded him. He fell to his knees in grief, trying to figure out what was going on. It had been a hundred or more years ago since he had killed everyone in an unprecedented moment of weak willpower which allowed Adara to take control. This had never happened. He had never been able to bury anyone.
“Ah. Sepher. Here you are.” Said a deep, malicious voice.
Sepher spun to his feet, turning around to face the voice and was face to face with Adara in his ‘human’ form. Spikes jutted out along the ridges of his arms and shoulders, eyes blazing red like the sun of Severel itself.
“Adara” He snarled “What have you done?”
The daemon god chuckled
“What have I done, you ask? Your mind made this place, not me. I merely…. gave it substance” Adara grinned wickedly, sharp percing fangs revealed. “You are old, Sepher. You are losing control. I’ve waited Several hundred years, but I will soon be in control again. In the eye, with the chaos energies running rampant, I am stronger than you. I will win out.” Sepher glared at the daemon god.
“You know I won’t let that happen”
“You will” replied Adara “And you will lose everyone you love. Again.” The Daemon’s laugh dug into his soul and suddenly the faces of everyone he had ever loved filled his vision. Sepher watched as he, in Adara’s form, killed each and every one of them. His Wife, his daughter, pleading for her life. His friends and the rest of his family.
New visions came to his eyes, blocking everything else out.
Cameron, the first of the companions he had ever met, who had pointed them towards the eye of terror, to this fight for the multiverse. Cameron was broken, laying at his feet, his neck snapped cleanly and his dead eyes staring up at the sky.
Gulgrim, who had only recently just met, but had proved himself to be a ferocious warrior of unquestionable might. Gulgrim’s blood ran down Sepher’s arms as he slowly eviscerated the warrior while he was still alive.
Danyael, one of the more mysterious of the companions, who seemed to have a near limitless bag of tricks up his sleeve for any situation. Danyaels screams peirced the night as his magic flailed uselessly into the sky while sepher tore the skin off of him in strips.
Kitharsis, ever vigilant and supportive of their efforts, his unique tattoos allowed him to focus his energy into unique attacks. He was being burned alive as Sepher used his own chaos magic to turn Kith’s energy against himself.
Soul Reaver, ever ancient, ever knowing. Wielder of Blooddrinker. Sepher was confused at this vision because they were just fighting Soul, and the confusion gave him just enough of a grounding that even as his spear plunged into Soul’s neck, he was able to get a finger of control back.
Jharm. Angelic being. He had always cared about the companions, even when things got dim. Sepher shook his head. Something was wrong as he raised his Katana to sever the wings from the back of the broken angel….
“NO” Sepher shouted, shaking his head. His gaze came back up to Adara, furious and blazing. Adara was recoiling as if something had broken a powerful magical connection and the energy was recoiling back on him.
“You will NOT have me. The companions believe in me, and I will never betray them” He growled, stepping forward closer to Adara. “I will not fail them now” he said quietly as he neared the Daemon God.
Adara’s eyes widened and he screamed an infernal scream as he seemed held in place by Sepher’s will. Sepher stepped up to the creature and put his hand on the Daemon’s head. Adara’s screaming intensified as energy built up around Sepher’s hand and finally a bright flash resounded all across the vision. Sepher spoke quietly.
“You will never control me, Adara. Never again. You are mine and you will bend to my will” The light expanded further and further, slowly burning away his vision until suddenly….
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He started awake, under a pile of rubble. His spear lay next to him. A dull pain spread around his whole body, but he seemed relatively unhurt. He could hear the sounds of battle from outside of his little shelter and he realized that the fight was still going on. Looking inwardly, he felt the daemon souls quieted. Not even Adara was stirring. It was as if he truly had them locked into place. Well, it was time to see what would happen if he pulled on those powers once more.
Drawing on Adara’s soul, he defuses the soul’s power into his body, combining the powers of daemon concentration transformation and the regular version into something he’s never tried before. He could feel the strength of the bound Daemon god spread through him, he could feel his muscles cording with power, his sense of alertness and awareness increase as the Deamon’s powers lent to his own, but he retained his own form.
It was not as powerful as taking the form, but it seemed to give him greater control. He could not feel the Daemon fighting for control as brutally as he would have before. With a deep breath, he stood, the large slabs of concrete being pushed out of the way by his newfound strength. He picked up his Weapon and surveyed the battlefield, and immediately picked a few things out.
Cameron was falling from the sky, a meteor falling behind him. He looked like he was attacking head on, which they companions had really determined wasn’t very effective, but if he could force soul’s attention to his blades, that meteor might do the trick…
And so sepher found himself hurtling across the ground at breakneck speed, towards Soul from the opposite direction as Cameron. He would aid in the distraction and hopefully this battle would be over shortly.
He leaped over some debris and engaged with Soul, his spear spinning like a staff, striking from all direction, both blade and blunt, in an effort to connect and assist Cameron in Distracting Soul. Soul would note that his speed and strength and ability to respond to things had all increased, making him a deadlier opponent than he had been.
As he went into battle with soul, Jharm would notice something funny about him. The Daemon souls seem to be much quieter than they were.
(OOC)
-
As Soul Reaver unleashes a truly demonic roar, the Seraphim is slightly overcome by a veritable wave of malevolence. His steady march falters for a brief second.
"“HONOUR?! I WILL SHOW YOU THE WAGES OF HONOUR!”"
Black shadowy wings sprout from the knights back once more as his visage seems to become even more demonic in appearance. He raises Blooddrinker and seems to be about to strike when the ground suddenly begins to shake violently. Jharm can see a giant creature made of skulls barreling towards the twisted warrior but then Soul gestures with his arm and a large wall of black flames erupts between the angel and the warrior. The Seraphim leaps backwards and launches into the air as a wave of intense heat washes over him. He has lost sight of the crazed night! The Seraphims soars through the air as he attempts to get around the fiery wall. Just as he nears the edge a series of sonic booms echo from the area and as he rounds the edge he sees Fei and Soul standing in front of each other, their respective weapons embedded in each other. A second later the shadow wielder steps back, says something and vanishes from sight. Before he has a chance to react further a large meteor comes crashing through the ceiling, Cameron a short distance in front of it. It would seem the elemental is attempting to finish things.
He must not know what is coming....
He then sees Sepher charge across the field and attack Soul Reaver from the opposite direction of Cameron. The sight of the other demon-wielder rankles the holy warrior briefly but then he realizes something.
His demons....they seem oddly quiet. I am not sure if that is a good or a bad thing. No time to think on it, I must aid him.
Deciding to further use the obvious rage Soul has towards him due to his besmirching the knights honor, Jharm slams down onto the ground in front of Soul Reaver (though a reasonable distance still between them).
"Blooddrinker! You once again flee from fighting me! I can sense your fear demon! Behold the glory and majesty of the Light!"
Power surges through Jharm as his body and armor glow and then a second later seem to explode with light. To everyone but Soul Reaver it seems as if they are bathed in the soft radiance of a noonday sun. To the twisted warrior however it is as if he is gazing into the depths of the Sun itself.
-
Soul Reaver seemingly splits into two mirror images. Kitharsis grits his teeth as he swings his horseman's pick in an effort to deflect the overhead chop aimed for his head.
As the two weapons collide, the image of Soul Reaver stands firm. But it does not last as glowing red tendrils pierce through its illusory body. The image dissipates into nothing, leaving Kitharsis battling the air. The tendrils blink out as he readies the horseman's pick once again. He can only watch as Soul Reaver's finishes his attack on the golem. Bones fly into the air as the immortal performs a back flip at the apex of his swing.
Soul Reaver plants his feet on the golem's chest, and he is met by the stares of hundreds of clattering skulls. Their jaws work furiously, muttering silent curses at the crazed warrior. Blooddrinker pierces through the mass of bones up to its hilt, the thirsty blade greedily sucking up any energy it can find.
But as soon as the tip of the blade slides through the first layer of bones, the Tirthandaran energy running through them darts off. The bones lifelessly begin falling to the floor below, and by the time Soul Reaver completes his swing Blooddrinker finds that it is sucking on dry marrow instead of the rich energy it had a taste of moments before. It seems that the golem will not be such an easy meal.
The bones, once out of Blooddrinker's range, come to life once again and reattach to a different section of the golem's body. It's razor sharp claws extend further than before, and they swipe at Soul Reaver as he lingers in the air before the golem. Alas, reanimating itself took too long, as Soul Reaver is out of the golem's extended reach before its blows can connect.
Fei and Soul Reaver exchange blows, almost too fast for Kitharsis's eyes to see without activating his rune tattoo for speed.
Their battle comes to a head, and as they both wrench their blades free from each other an eruption of black ichor and bright red blood coats the area.
Fei disappears, swallowed by the writhing blackness.
Gulgrim was keeping some distance between himself and Soul Reaver, probably waiting for the right moment to strike again.
Cameron appears, crashing in from the impossibly high ceiling of the warehouse. An asteroid is tailing him with great speed.
Sepher, with newfound strength, hurtles across the battlefield with spear spinning wildy.
Jharm slams down in front of Soul Reaver, and explodes with light.
Now is the time for a final push. Kitharsis runs at full tilt toward Soul Reaver, the bone golem following suit. As they are nearly upon him, the bone golem begins shedding waves and waves of bones. The multitudes of bones and skulls fly through the air like a swarm of insects. The mass of bones part around the companions, weaving and writhing their way to their target so not to be a hindrance to the others. The bones slam into Soul Reaver from all directions. Some are blunt, others razor sharp. There is such a large number it would be difficult to block and dodge all of them. Combined with the attacks from the other companions, it would be nearly impossible to come away unscathed.
Kitharsis leaps through an opening beside Sepher. His arms are encased in blades of Tirthandaran energy. His battle senses are at full tilt, aware of everything around him. Each swing is precise and ruthless. This is surely a fight for life and death, another companion cannot fall from this madness.
-
Soul Reaver staggers backward, blood gushing from the gaping wound in his chest. He does not have time to recover before the other are upon him.
Cameron throws himself toward Soul Reaver as above him, a massive flaming comet crashes through the distant roof, scattering shards of superheated rock and metal. His two swords, humming with power, flash through the air to keep Soul Reaver occupied.
Sepher joins the fray, his spear jabbing, slashing and striking with speed and precision. He was more in control of himself than before, and his increased focus was making every blow a calculated and potentially deadly strike.
Kitharsis and his bone golem were not far behind. The horseman’s pick rises and falls, delivering blows with a force that would shatter solid steel. The golem meanwhile accompanied Kitharsis with a rain of attacks.
Jharm’s form blazes with blinding light to support his companions’ attacks, the brightness sending ribbons of blackness streaming from Soul Reaver’s smoky wings and arm.
Gulgrim and Danyael were not yet engaged directly – not that there would have been much room left for them to join the fray – but Gulgrim already seems to be weighing up the situation in preparation for a strike of his own.
Gravely wounded, Soul Reaver seems to be skating the edge of unconsciousness. Jharm’s light sears Soul Reaver’s vision and he instinctively raises his taloned arm to shield his eyes from the blinding brilliance. But Blooddrinker has a mind of its own and does not need Soul Reaver’s eyes to see. It parries and counterattacks to keep the assailants at bay. Though swift and effective, the movements are mechanical – the sword yanks at Soul Reaver’s arm rather than flowing with it, lacking any of the usual grace of Soul Reaver’s swordsmanship. Soul Reaver’s already battered and blood-soaked body earns yet more scars, but the shuddering surface of Soul Reaver’s Retribution Shield, combined with Blooddrinker’s self-serving efforts, manage to avoid what would otherwise have been fatal blows.
Hot power surges through Soul Reaver’s body, focussed on staunching the bleeding from the wound at his chest. It feels like a hot iron searing the skin, but it knits enough tissue back together to prevent Soul Reaver bleeding out. The white-hot agony seems to jolt Soul Reaver back into a semblance of frantic awareness.
There is a sudden, deep thud, like the beating of a black heart, and a ball of smoky darkness suffuses Soul Reaver, plunging Soul Reaver into comforting shadow, hiding him and shielding him from Jharm’s painful glow. Through the shadowed veil, Soul Reaver espies the comet grow large behind Cameron’s form, its impact imminent.
Instinct kicks in as Soul Reaver acts to protect himself. The Retribution Shield had been in place for much of the battle. Throughout the conflict, it had absorbed blow after blow. And for every blow dealt to it, the power it had sapped from the enemy attack had been stored, waiting to be unleashed. That time was now.
Images of screaming faces crawl up the surface of the dark Retribution Shield as it begins to shake and shiver. The orb can barely retain its integrity as phenomenal amounts of energy sheathe over its shell. Then, multiple arcs of white power lash from the shield at those nearby: Kitharsis, Cameron, Sepher, Jharm and Kitharsis’ towering golem. Each blast flickers and jumps like a living thing, unerringly striking at its targets chest.
Soul Reaver spreads his arms wide as the comet’s blazing form looms over him, as though to embrace a fiery end. But then one last, massive blast issues from the surface of the shield, leaping to meet the incoming comet.
The impact emits a deafening boom, and the comet bursts apart into countless fragments. The chunks of flaming rock fan out as a deathly rose of stone and fire, before they slam into the earth, their flames going out as they sink into the lingering remains of the black ichor covering the ground.
For a few moments, Soul Reaver’s black wings and taloned arm grow unstable, as they begin to fade in and out of existence. Soul Reaver’s shoulder’s slump and Blooddrinker is lowered, as though its weight was dragging its point to the ground. Head to toe, Soul Reaver’s whole body is slick and wet with blood. It would seem that even with the Daemon Lord’s raging, his body is reaching its limits.
-
THUMP
As Gulgrim came to a halt, planting his foot as his seemingly endless march ceased, the sound reverberated and echoed across the battlefield, washing away any lesser sounds in its wake. Unoccupied gazes, especially those sensitive to raw energy, find that Gulgrim's presence has an almost magnetic affect as the power contained within his form pulses brighter and brighter. Stones on the ground rattle, green lightning dances across the battlefield, and the ground around Gulgrim seems to rumble.
There's an ear-shattering sound, like radio static amplified to some ungodly power, and an explosively loud message rockets into the minds of those on the battlefield.
"Ya get one chance. One chance 'fore I krush 'em meself. Fix 'em, krump 'em. Yer choice. One chance."
The very act of receiving the psychic message is almost painful, as if Gulgrim can't even perform a benign action without overcharging it with force at the moment. And then, with a crack of lightning that sends rocks scattering at its impact points, Gulgrim vanishes and reappears standing almost immediately in front of Soul Reaver.
And then all hell breaks loose around him.
All of the power Gulgrim had been building throughout the fight, all of the raw energy, all of the anger and Orky rage that he had been collecting, especially during the death march, was unleashed around him. The buffeting force of the sheer WAAAGH!!! energy that was unleashed swirled around Gulgrim like a Hurricane, with himself in the eye, his coat and hat flapping in the winds, but seemingly unharmed.
"Ya feel that ya spikey git?" The Ork warboss bellowed, his voice blasting loudly from his throat, reverberating with energy. "Dat's da raw power o' Gork an' Mork! I'z dere avatar, an' now you'z woken da twin godz o' da orkz! Time ta get Krumped, little 'Umie! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!!"
And then the raw power begins to gain direction and focus, turning from a hurricane to a drill, pressing in towards Soul Reaver's chest. Force like a thousand giant hammers began to attempt to batter the dark Knight, pressing down and down, harder and harder, trying to pummel the possessed warrior into the earth. It was as if the limbs of Gork and Mork were battering away, attempting to beat the warrior into submission or death.
All around Gulgrim rocks are flying, lightning is crackling, and wind is roaring, but the hurricane has largely died down, most of its power being focused into this all out assault on Soul Reaver's form. Meanwhile, Gulgrim was standing unmoving, staring coldly into the dark knight's eyes, his glowing red gaze unmoving, unblinking. His body did not move or flinch, and he almost seemed helpless if not for the swirling torrent of energy hammering away at his opponent.
-
Cameron leaps to the side and crosses his swords in front of him. A shield of pure elemental energy pours from the blades and absorbs the blasts coming from the Retribution Shield, but each one forces them apart a little more. The final detonation is enough to break Cameron’s defense and he tumbles to the ground.
The elemental warrior quickly finds his feet again. Power armor servos squeal in protest as damaged plates right themselves. Cameron falls into a defensive stance, his swords held loosely in front of him. Flaming rocks fall all around him but any that come close to impacting him seem to steer themselves away and into the ground.
Cameron regards Soul Reaver. The warrior looks drained. The wings and daemon talons gifted to him by Blooddrinker are now insubstantial. Cameron doesn’t think that he’ll be able to hold out much longer.
And then comes a voice so loud that even Kalana’s presence in Cameron’s mind recoils in pain.
"Ya get one chance. One chance 'fore I krush 'em meself. Fix 'em, krump 'em. Yer choice. One chance."
The message from Gulgrim is clear. Cameron can feel the raw power that has built up in the Ork Kaptain. He was not even aware that Orks could harness this kind of energy, let alone so much of it. If nothing is done, Gulgrim will certainly finish this fight, and their friend.
“We need to do something. We can’t just let Soul Reaver die.”
In Cameron’s mind, Kalana is sliding through memories of the beginning of the battle. The parts she missed when she was busy fighting Peterson. What had set Master Reaver off like this? Blooddrinker is obviously in control, but something had to have happened to cause Soul Reaver’s guard to drop.
They took her, and you let them.
How easy it must be to make a sacrifice when you are not the ones paying the price!
YOU DID NOT STOP THEM!!!
HAVE I NOT GIVEN ENOUGH ALREADY?! WOULD YOU TAKE WHAT LITTLE I HAVE LEFT?!!
You shall take nothing more from me!
What could he be talking about? Unless… of course. It was her. It had to be her. They had come for her, and Soul Reaver could have stopped them. Cameron and the others could have stopped them. But they didn’t. There’s no doubt that this has been weighing on Master Reaver’s heart since it happened. And it makes sense for him to hold the others responsible. Hell, Kalana had been there too. And she had also done nothing.
Kalana shifts her focus to one conversation in particular, between Jharm and Soul Reaver. Cameron had been focused elsewhere by this point. But even though he did not actively hear the words, they still ring in the background of his memories.
I said....ENOUGH! Enough of your dark machinations and twisted spells! You have betrayed EVERYTHING you stood for Soul Reaver! You have turned against your loyal friends and companions!
HONOUR?! I WILL SHOW YOU THE WAGES OF HONOUR!
The wages of honour? But no, that’s not right. It wasn’t honour that stayed their hands that day. It was something else. Kalana allows both her and Cameron’s memories of that day to flood back into her mind simultaneously. All of them wanted to act. There wasn’t a person on that ship who wanted her to go. But they had let it happen.
Because she ASKED us to.
Cameron is startled by the sudden outburst from inside his mind.
What? What are you talking about?
Cameron can hear the determination and urgency in Kalana’s voice as it rings out in reply.
Soul Reaver thinks that losing Asaki was part of “the wages of honour.” He feels like he is being punished repeatedly for doing the right thing. But he didn’t make the choice to let her go! None of us did! SHE made that choice! We all tried to stop them and SHE stopped us from interfering! It was what she wanted!
Cameron frowns.
Okay, right. That is true. But I fail to see how this helps us now. I’ve tried talking to him already. He’s not listening.
Gulgrim begins to direct his massive buildup of energy at Soul Reaver. There isn’t much time left. Kalana shouts inside Cameron’s mind.
Protect him! Don’t let Gulgrim kill him! Buy me some time and I may be able to end this!
Cameron wastes no time. He leaps into the air. He lands between Soul Reaver and Gulgrim. A psychic shield protects him from the onslaught of WAAAAAAAGH energy for a moment, but it starts to fail immediately. It will not hold. Cameron stabs Anathros into the ground in front of him and pulls upwards. A wall of rock shaped like an ocean wave is pulled out of the ground by the elemental blade. It is big enough to cut both Cameron and Soul Reaver off from the blast of energy. But it quickly starts to crack and shatter. Cameron continues to hold it up with Anathros over his head while he slams Valermos into the center of it with his other hand. Fire begins to pump into the rock shell, and cracks and fissures are repaired over and over again by superheated magma. This will hold, but Cameron is pouring energy into this defense and won’t be able to keep it up for very long. He shouts to the two closest people to him, Jharm and Sepher.
“Hey! Help me out here! We can’t let Soul Reaver die yet!”
*JHARM*
Jharm reels slightly as his body is assaulted by the waves of energy from the Retribution shield and his mind is assaulted by Gulgrim’s “announcement.” He manages to fend off most of the waves with his hammer, but the final blast sends him stumbling backwards. He uses his hammer to keep from falling down and allows the Light to wash over him, healing him slightly. Next thing he knows, Cameron has erected a large earthen wall between Soul Reaver and the rampaging Ork.
“Hey! Help me out here! We can’t let Soul Reaver die yet!”
The Seraphim’s gaze passes from Soul Reaver over to Gulgrim and back again. One would almost swear for a brief moment the angelic being was contemplating allowing the Ork to complete his attack and destroy the knight. Then Jharm locks his gaze on Gulgrim, gripping his hammer tightly in his right arm as a large gleaming white shield materializes on his left arm. Launching himself into the air, he flies over and slams down in front of Cameron's earth wall. He is immediately assailed by the WAAGH energies and is forced back against the wall but then his form glows brightly and he raises the shield in front of him. The green energy crashes against the pure white metal but the Seraphim holds his ground. Light flows through Jharm, healing the wounds he suffers from the Ork’s assault, and further solidifying his already godlike strength. Focusing all of his power and attention on holding back the onslaught, he does manage to send a brief message to Cameron and the others.
Deal….with….Soul. I shall hold back…..the tide!
*SEPHER*
What control! What power he wielded now. Every strike felt more deadly than they ever had. His blade was sharp, his mind sharper, and his skill with the blade masterful. He pushed forward even as Soul Reaver unleashed the energy from his retribution shield
That...was a hell of a lot of energy. It would take even more to fully block it. His spear spun, even as the energy arced towards his chest. A large amount of chaos energy welled up at the spear’s end, and he swung at the visible charge from the retribution shield. It deflected the energy enough to prevent a killing blow. The energy jumped from the tip of his spear, deflected by the chaos Sepher had gathered, and it rebounded off the side of his scale mail. Metal tore free from the armor in a small explosion of light, blood splashing as a wound tore open on his side.
His metal shaping abilities quickly had the armor on the mend, even as he caught his breath from the vicious blow. He grimaced, the blood seeping from the wound slowing. He faced Soul. Just as he did though, he was hit with a headache producing amount of psychic energy, as Gulgrim belted out in their minds.
"Ya get one chance. One chance 'fore I krush 'em meself. Fix 'em, krump 'em. Yer choice. One chance."
Even as his wound stopped bleeding, he was buffeted but the Orks energy, a sudden maelstrom of waahhg, whatever that was. He threw up his hand to cover his eyes, but some of the energy of the storm was suddenly blocked, as cameron threw up an earthen wall and Jharm held fast with his shield. He heard Cameron Shout out.
“Hey! Help me out here! We can’t let Soul Reaver die yet!”
It appeared as if Cameron had a plan. He just needed Soul Reaver to not die. That meant stopping the Ork’s Energy, before it consumed Soul. He sighed to himself. He wasn’t sure how good of an idea this was, but he had trusted cameron to this point, he might as well trust him the rest of the way.
He flicked out a hand, the spear suddenly changing its shape to a band of metal around Sepher’s wrist. Now that that was out of the way, he could focus on what he needed to do. Chaos magic. Raw, unformed, Chaos. It had unlimited potential, and could do just about anything. It began to thrum around him as he drew it into himself. He needed to help Jharm hold off the Wagh Energy.
Slowly, he held his hands out to the side and looked to Jharm, weathering the storm. “Hold steady my friend” He said and in a burst of energy, he expended all of the raw chaos energy to Jharm, forcing it to take shape with his will, buffering Jharm’s shield, giving him more power. Jharm would find his power exponentially greater as the raw potential aided him however he needed.
As Jharm and Sepher leap in front of him, Cameron allows the shield of rock and magma to crumble and fall. He breathes heavily. But he knows that this isn’t over yet. Jharm’s shield is powerful, and even more so with Sepher’s help. But he can feel the WAAGH energy growing ever stronger. Jharm begins to slide backwards. They need more help.
Cameron braces himself and brings Anathros and Valermos together. The two blades act as a channel as Cameron harnesses all of the elements simultaneously. Normally this wouldn’t be possible, but Kalana’s influence has opened Cameron’s mind farther than it has ever been before. He can see the threads of all things now, just as clearly as he could his own natural element of fire. Pure elemental energy arcs from the blades in a blinding white beam, surrounding Jharm even as it restructures Sepher’s chaos magic into something more compatible with Jharm’s holy light. Jharm can feel his strength and resolve bolstered even further. But Cameron can feel his energy waning. And even with all three of them, Gulgrim’s attack will overpower them soon.
Kalana, whatever you’re gonna do, do it NOW.
As the companions work to keep Soul Reaver alive, Kalana reaches out to his mind. Others have tried this tactic before. But they were all saying the wrong things. Hopefully, this time will be right.
Here goes nothing.
Kalana projects her power from Cameron’s mind back to Soul Reaver. An image of her appears before him. She stares into his eyes as she begins to speak, though the words are not audible. Instead they are spoken directly into Soul Reaver’s mind.
Master Reaver, listen. We were all there when the Soreans took Asaki. Any one of us could have put a stop to it. And we all wanted to. And you’re right. We didn’t. None of us did. But it wasn’t because of honour.
All of us have made sacrifices for honour. For justice. To help others. None know this pain more than you. You’ve fought for so long, and seen so many fall so that others can live in peace. But Asaki was not another casualty of that war. She chose to go with them. She asked us to let her go! Don’t you remember? We didn’t let her go because it was the honourable or just thing to do! We let her go because it was what she wanted!
We could have killed them, you know. Easily. Even drained from our previous battle as we were. We could have eliminated them with ease! But do you think Asaki would have been happy if we did that? If we just piled their bodies up like cordwood and ejected them into space? She would have hated us. She would have hated you most of all. You were her mentor. If anyone was supposed to understand why she chose to do what she did, it was you. She needed that justice. She needed to face her past if she ever wanted to be happy and be at peace again. She trusted you. And if you had defied her wishes that day and robbed her of her chance at peace and absolution, she would have never forgiven you. We would have denied her wishes and violated her trust, and she would have never forgiven any of us.
But you didn’t. None of us did. In the end, we did what she asked of us. We did what she needed us to do. And I’m sure she’s out there somewhere. And I’m sure she still remembers us fondly. And she’ll never forget the mentor who showed her the way. And she would never want you to hold yourself responsible for her decisions and actions. She would feel terrible if she knew how much pain and guilt you were still carrying with you.
And she would be horrified if she could see you now. This is not what she wanted for you. You’re killing your friends. Letting your daemon control you. And for what? What does this accomplish? Even if killing us all would bring her back… even if you scoured the multiverse and left a trail of carnage in your wake until you finally found her… what would she say? Would she be happy to see you after all of the damage and destruction you caused? No. She wouldn’t even recognize you. She’d probably fight you. And then what? Would you kill her too? Would Blooddrinker make you do it? If so, she would die cursing your name. Is that what you want?
I know that’s not what you want. That’s not what any of us want. Only Blooddrinker wants that. And he’ll get it if you don’t come back to us. We can’t do this without you. You didn’t let her go. You didn’t kill her. You saved her. And now, we need you to save her one more time. We need you to save us one more time. Come back to us, and put this daemon back where he belongs!
Kalana punctuates her last sentence with a burst of memories compiled from both her and Cameron. She doesn’t bother with memories of saving people or memories of when justice was served. That’s not what Soul Reaver needs now. Instead, she floods him with memories of the companions as friends. Every happy moment they’ve shared. Every peaceful moment spent away from the battlefield, however fleeting. All of the happiness and hope that came with these moments slam into Soul Reaver’s mind like a tsunami. Kalana uses every last bit of her energy to try and get this message through. One last ditch effort to make Soul Reaver see reason. She prays that the effort isn’t wasted.
And as she expends the last of her reserves, the image of Kalana before Soul Reaver extends her hand to him. Waiting for him to take it.
-
An arc of white power lashes out from the releasing Retribution Shield. Kitharsis crosses his arms in front of him. The multiple blades of energy adorning his forearms take the brunt of the blow. The orb blasts him backwards, disintegrating the energy blades in the process.
Kitharsis's metal boots dig into the warehouse floor as he lands. His free hand digs into the floor as he slows his momentum. A rain of bones falls around him, his golem took the blast head on. The blast barely missed its vital spot, yet the damage done was substantial.
As if that wasn't enough, Gulgrim pounds home and unleashes a torrent of WAAAGH!! energy. The poor golem's bones, which were already trying to scamper back to its main body, are caught in the vortex and are being scattered even further around the battlefield. The much smaller golem retreats out of Gulgrim's proximity and grumpily collects its bones.
Kitharsis squints and shakes his head from the WAAAGH!!! combatting his senses. In the span of a few moments, Cameron, Jharm and Sepher have come to Soul Reaver's defense. Kitharsis does not share the same sympathy for the immortal warrior.
Without a word, Kitharsis quietly moves to the side. Gulgrim's assault is rampaging against the shield erected by the three companions. But are they defending someone who is capable of being saved? The bone golem, having collected as many bones as it could, stands beside Kitharsis.
They wait just out of range of and watch Soul Reaver closely. Prepared for anything.
-
At the precipice of unconsciousness, Gulgrim’s psychic bellow sounds like little more than pure noise to Soul Reaver’s ears – but it brings him back to attention just in time to see the raw Waagh energy begin tearing apart the battlefield.
Though disoriented, a frantic, hateful urging pushes him to raise his crimson blade just as something akin to a drill of crackling, roaring power launches itself at Soul Reaver.
Were it not for his Retribution Shield, the drill would have hit before he could have reacted. But fortunately, it holds against the impact just long enough for Soul Reaver to bring Blooddrinker up in a defensive parry across his chest.
The tip of the insubstantial drill impacts on the broad side of the blade, unleashing an ungodly metallic screech. Blooddrinker seems to absorb and simultaneously dissipate the energy, unleashing uncontrolled explosive arcs of green power in all directions. But it isn’t sufficient to hold back the torrent, and in moments, blow upon blow batters Soul Reaver’s already tortured body. Gulgrim stares Soul Reaver in the eyes, motionless, as the attacks rain down.
The pain of the attacks blows aside the dazed fog. Soul Reaver needed more power to break free. The blade would provide...
Soul Reaver closes his eyes, and is about to open the floodgates even more. Within his weakening prison, Blooddrinker rejoices.
But then something unexpected happens. The Waagh assault stops with such suddenness that it causes Soul Reaver to stumble forward. Confused, he sees the armoured figure of Cameron interspersing itself between himself and Gulgrim. A wall of magma and rock explodes only to be rebuilt again and again, now bearing the brunt of the attack that was meant for him.
The angelic figure of Jharm slams down in front of the barrier, bringing up his mighty shield. White light shines from the warrior as he holds fast against the attack. Shortly afterward, Sepher approached from the side, and unleashed a tangible surge of power to fortify the seraphim’s defences.
Yet even with this aid, Jharm is being forced back. Cameron allows the magma wall to fall, and using Anathros and Valermos, fires a beam of pure elemental energies the likes of which he has never before wielded, enveloping Jharm in power and shaping Sepher’s energy to assist further.
Through the haze of hate and rage, Soul Reaver can barely comprehend what is happening. And for a moment, what he thought were his own thoughts ‘separate’ into two. On the one hand, he can see himself, taking this moment to sink Blooddrinker deep into Cameron’s exposed and unprotected back, revelling in his revenge. But on the other there is a memory, a dim glimmer of understanding – the knowledge of WHY these men are standing between him and oblivion.
It is in that crucial moment that Kalana appears before him. This time, Blooddrinker is not in a position to block the psychic message.
Kalana’s mind speaks to Soul Reaver’s own. She wields no weapon but the truth… and it is the sharpest sword of all, cutting into the very heart of Soul Reaver’s madness.
Each sentence drives another wedge between the thoughts of Soul Reaver, and those that Blooddrinker would have him believe were his own. And upon completing her speech, a flood of memories washes over the immortal warrior – of fleeting, happy moments, of all those times where he knew that those around him were people he should be calling “friend”.
Kalana reaches out her hand, asking for Soul Reaver to take it. Almost as though in a trance, Soul Reaver reaches back…
And he sees his hand is not his own. Instead, he sees a hideous talon of smoke and shadow reaching toward her. The shock of this realization unleashes a surge of emotions. Happiness at both those times past, and the knowledge of what his friends were willing to risk to save him now, in spite of everything. An intensifying horror, as his recent actions and failures began to dawn on him. And growing stronger by the moment – a justified anger, both at himself and at the Daemon Lord that would make him into its tool.
Soul Reaver snaps back to reality. The black wings upon his back flicker out of existence, and the black talon on his left arm vanishes into the ether, leaving behind an ugly, bleeding stump. Soul Reaver can almost HEAR the scream of unbridled rage that emanates from Blooddrinker as his influence is peeled away.
But then, the physical pain and exhaustion of his ordeal come flooding over his senses. His right arm especially feels as though it is on fire, where cords of red metal have snaked themselves through his very flesh and bone.
In the moment of physical weakness, Blooddrinker makes a last-ditch effort. Freedom was so very close, and if the energy he needed could not come from the deaths of those near Soul Reaver… then perhaps it would come from Soul Reaver himself.
Against his own will, Soul Reaver finds the blood-soaked sword jerk upward, spin around, its point now facing his chest, and then hurl itself to pierce Soul Reaver’s heart. Instinctively, Soul Reaver raises his left arm to parry the blade… forgetting that his arm is gone.
Time grinds almost to a halt. Blooddrinker slides inexorably forward through the air, the blade shimmering as it slices hairline cuts into the fabric of reality itself. A distant, unreal scream of vengeful, triumphant hate emanates from the sword, heard by none by Soul Reaver himself. The tip of the blade touches Soul Reaver’s unprotected flesh…
And then all is white, and all is clear. There is a pulse of silent noise and invisible light.
Soul Reaver’s face is passive and emotionless, his eyes aglow with an unsullied radiance. A single drop of flesh blood flows from a small puncture in his chest, where Blooddrinker’s blade has begun to pierce his skin. But it can go no further – for Soul Reaver is holding it by the blade, with a left arm composed of pure white energy. The metal screeches and writhes against the touch, but makes no headway. As though it were but a pesky thorn, Soul Reaver pulls the sword back. As he does so, the metal corded through Soul Reaver’s right arm retracts, shudderingly, painfully, as though against Blooddrinker’s own will.
At last, Soul Reaver can release his grip on the sword. It drops to the ground with a dull clang.
Everything returns back to normal. The glow fades from Soul Reaver's eyes, and his newly born left arm disappears as though it had never been. The pain and exhaustion, too, return tenfold. Through a supreme force of will, Soul Reaver forces himself to remain conscious long enough to utter five words.
“Forgive me… and… thank you”
Then it all becomes too much, and he crashes to the ground.
-
The WAAAGH! energy has won. Its target is no longer capable of fighting. Something in Gulgrim knows that he is victorious, and like a breaking storm, the tornado of energy slowly begins to fade. After a moment, everything dies down, and the battlefield is left feeling almost eerily calm in the aftermath of Gulgrim's violent final attack. there is no more howling wind, no excess energy being blasted around, not even a chuckle from the Ork Warboss. The gargantuan figure of Gulgrim, who had been so close he was practically towering over the group defending Soul Reaver, slowly began to totter, and then fell backwards onto his back. With arms splayed wide, and his eyes rolled back, Gulgrim slowly takes a breath he had been holding for so long.
"I....Need...A zoggin....Drink....." the Warboss slowly manages as his eyes refocus and he finds himself staring at the ceiling. Apparently the process of wielding that much power, even gathering it in the first place, had taken quite a lot of the Ork, and now he couldn't even summon up the energy to stand. After using every last drop of WAAAGH!!! energy in one final attack, the Warboss now lay, exhausted, on the ground, his limbs resisting his commands to move. He does eventually manage to coerce enough movement out of them to sit up, and the Warboss looks over to examine the havoc that had gone down before him in the vicinity of Soul Reaver. Cameron, Jharm, and others, looking battered and scuffed, but alive, and one very calm looking Soul Reaver.
"So...." Gulgrim panted out, adjusting his hat with his right hand. "Did we win ladz?"
-
Soul Reaver reaches out to Kalana, and as he does, a look of realization and anger appears on his face. Kalana knows at this moment that she has reached him. But then his sword arm comes up, and he moves to impale himself with his own blade.
No. NO!
Cameron’s head jerks back as he attempts to see what is happening. Kalana lunges forward to try and help. But before either of them can do anything, Soul Reaver pulls the blade away himself. His missing hand has been replaced by one of pure energy. Blooddrinker finally clatters to the ground. He utters a plea of forgiveness and thanks before he falls to the ground.
The image of Kalana quickly rushes to his side. Although she is insubstantial and rapidly losing strength, she is still able to transfer some of her remaining energy to Soul Reaver. It won’t heal his wounds, but it should comfort him and ease any pain he may be in.
The WAAAGH energy suddenly dissipates as Gulgrim realizes that the fight is done. Cameron drops both his swords and stumbles forward, dropping to one knee. He is nearly spent. He raises his head when Gulgrim speaks.
“So… did we win, ladz?”
Cameron nods, almost imperceptibly.
“Yes. This battle has been won.”
He glances back over his shoulder again at Soul Reaver and Kalana.
“Is he alive?”
With some amount of effort, Kalana forces her reply from the glowing image of herself to be audible instead of merely mental.
“Yes. He lives. Barely.”
Cameron forces himself back to his feet, glancing at the other companions. Gulgrim, Jharm, Sepher, and Kitharsis are all present. Danyael is nowhere to be seen, although he can feel his presence. Of Fei, there is no trace.
“By Inferia, how many have we lost? So many were with us at the beginning of this who are not with us now.”
And then Cameron remembers the other combat that is still raging.
“Kalana, you need to get back to your body. The others are still fighting Peterson. They need your help.”
The glowing figure rises and drifts over to Cameron.
“Not sure how much help I’ll be with my energy drained like this, but you’re right. You have to figure out how to get this barrier down, though. I’m not sure how much longer we can-”
There is a flash from the direction of the barrier. Four pinpoints if light appear on it’s surface. They slowly grow larger. Then, with a tearing noise, 4 claws punch through. Lightning arcs between them as the barrier around them seems to crack. Within seconds, blood begins gushing around the claws through the holes in the barrier. The cracks in the barrier widen and soon cover it’s entire surface. And then, a pulse of energy sweeps over the companions as the barrier shatters.
As the pieces fall away and fade into nothing, Peterson is revealed. His face is contorted in an expression of immense pleasure. The demon blade Drach’nyen rests in his right hand, hanging at his side. His left arm is outstretched. At the end of it is the Talon of Horus, the tainted artifact power claw that once belonged to Abbadon the Despoiler. Kalana’s body is impaled on it. It appears that Peterson must have slammed her against the barrier with the Talon, sending the indestructible claws through both her and the barrier. One of the blades has passed directly through her skull.
Cameron is frozen to the spot. He slowly looks away from the grisly scene to the image of Kalana standing next to him. Her facial expression is one of horror and desperation. She looks back to Cameron.
“I... I took too long. I'm sorry...”
The words trail off as the image of Kalana fades away. Cameron turns back to Peterson.
“I am so disappointed. I wanted you to watch me do that. Maybe even force you to do it for me. But she managed to break my connection with you before I could."
Peterson emits a comically loud sigh.
“Oh well. This will just have to do.”
Peterson points Drach’nyen at the fallen Soul Reaver.
“I see you saved him! What a pity. He deserved to die. But no matter. This will serve as a just punishment. He gets to live knowing that he served as the perfect distraction that cost this one her life.”
Peterson gestures with his left hand, causing Kalana’s body to shake back and forth. her arms and legs flail about and more blood spatters on the ground.
“This was what I needed all along. This body. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I wanted to kill her for fun anyway. But now it’s for fun AND profit. Even better!”
Cameron hasn’t moved. His swords remain on the ground. The expression on his face is one of absolute defeat. Peterson smirks.
“Don’t worry, Cameron. You don’t have to thank me. I know how grateful you are for me relieving you of this burden. You must he at a loss for words. You can thank me later.”
Peterson raises his sword in a farewell gesture.
“You all give my regards to Soul Reaver when he wakes up. Okay?”
-
Jharm can feel himself slowly being pushed back by the gale of energy slamming against him. Digging his heels into the ground, he suddenly feels energy course through him as his companions bolster his strength. The Seraphim has little knowledge of what is occuring around him, his focus directly on the Ork in front of him, but then suddenly Gulgrim seems to look past the holy warrior and then his onslaught comes to an end. There is a brief moment of silence, interrupted by the sound of the exhausted Ork crashing backwards to the ground.
"I....Need...A zoggin....Drink....."
It is clearly evident that the Ork completely exhausted himself with that last attack, as he struggles to adjust the hat upon his head.
“So… did we win, ladz?”
From behind him, Jharm hears Cameron respond to the question.
“Yes. This battle has been won.”
“Is he alive?”
Soul.....
Turning around, the Seraphims gaze falls upon the seemingly comatose Soul Reaver. Every inch of his body seems to bear some wound or injury from the brawl, the worst being one of his arms is completely missing. As Jharm moves towards the fallen knight, the shield on his arm fades away into nothingness. Placing his hammer on the ground, the Seraphim drops to one knee and removes his helmet. The glowing orbs residing within his eye sockets gaze down on the man laying in front of him. Closing his eyes, Jharm places his gauntleted hands on Soul, focusing for a few seconds as light begins to glow from within him. The glow then seems to flow down into Soul Reaver until his form takes on a faint glow as well, the Light flowing through his torn, battered, and broken body as it works to bind his wounds.
The Seraphims ministrations are interrupted however when a bright flash occurs from behind the companions. Glancing behind him, Jharm sees pinpoints of light piercing through the barrier around Peterson and the elementals. A loud tearing sound is then heard and the pinpoints begin to widen as 4 claws begin to force their way through the barrier, blood gushing around them. Lightning crackles as the strength of the barrier seems to fade and then Jharm realizes what is about to happen, moving to shield Soul Reaver just as the barrier explodes outward. As the dust settles, the Seraphim looks back to see a truly horrific sight. Peterson stands before them, sword in one hand and claw in the other. It is what hang on the claw that disturbs the angellic creature. The body of Kalana dangles from the cursed implement, one of the talons having pierced through her skull.
“I am so disappointed. I wanted you to watch me do that. Maybe even force you to do it for me. But she managed to break my connection with you before I could."
Peterson emits a comically loud sigh.
“Oh well. This will just have to do.”
Peterson points Drach’nyen at the fallen Soul Reaver.
“I see you saved him! What a pity. He deserved to die. But no matter. This will serve as a just punishment. He gets to live knowing that he served as the perfect distraction that cost this one her life.”
Peterson gestures with his right hand, causing Kalana’s body to shake back and forth. her arms and legs flail about and more blood spatters on the ground. A deep scowl spreads across the Seraphims face as he watches the macabre display. Reaching over to his weapon, Jharm wraps his hand around the shaft of the hammer and stands up, moving closer to Cameron.
“This was what I needed all along. This body. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I wanted to kill her for fun anyway. But now it’s for fun AND profit. Even better!”
Jharm glances over at his friend to see that he hasn’t moved. The elementals swords remain on the ground, an expression of absolute defeat clear on his face. Peterson smirks.
“Don’t worry, Cameron. You don’t have to thank me. I know how grateful you are for me relieving you of this burden. You must he at a loss for words. You can thank me later.”
Peterson raises his sword in a farewell gesture.
“You all give my regards to Soul Reaver when he wakes up. Okay?”
The Seraphim grabs his hammer in both his hands, light gleaming around his form, a deep scowl clear on his face as anger wells within him. The desire to charge the being in front of him courses through him. The knowledge though that 2 of their number were crippled stayed the Seraphims fury. Jharms voice booms out, strength and determination evident in it, the holy flames surrounding the halo over the Seraphims head seem to intensify in brightness and strength as well.
"Peterson....by the light and glory of Nelathia I will see you punished for what you have done!"
-
Soul Reaver remains unconscious through Kalana's noble efforts to lessen his pain, but his pained face seems to relax somewhat in response.
Jharm's ministrations heal Soul Reaver's body, staunching the worst of the bleeding and staving off the reaper. Soul Reaver's regenerative powers kick in - though not visible to the casual observer, his wounds slowly begin to heal of their own accord.
It is only partway through Peterson's mocking speech that Soul Reaver's senses begin to return. Peterson's booming words are muted and incomprehensible - sounding far away, as though from the bottom of the ocean.
The ground is hard, and small pieces of gravel dig into Soul Reaver's cheek. The ground beneath him felt hot and sticky. Where was he again?
Soul Reaver forces his eyelids open and tries to focus. Somewhere nearby, he sees the hulking form of Peterson. He is waving something around in the air, like a rag doll.
"....served as the perfect distraction that cost this one her life.”
Horrified recognition dawns within Soul Reaver as he looks at the lifeless figure, its limbs jerking in a macabre dance. As Peterson continues to taunt Cameron, Soul Reaver tries to get up, but his aching muscles simply refuse to move.
"You all give my regards to Soul Reaver when he wakes up. Okay?"
Soul Reaver somehow manages to lift his head slighty and tries to spit a hateful reply between broken teeth, but all that emerges is an imperceptible, sibilant "ksssssh" and bloodied froth.
Then blood runs into his eyes and obscures his vision in an opaque red veil. Exhausted, his head falls back to the ground.
-
“Forgive me… and… thank you”
Soul Reaver collapses, finally succumbing to the beating the companions have enacted upon him. Kitharsis breathes a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping as the head of his horseman's pick meets the floor with a heavy clank.
Kitharsis's chest is badly burnt from the last kick of Soul Reaver's dying madness. The tattoos on his forearms are mottled with deep black burns, rendering them useless for the time being. He will need to have one of his skeletons replace them when given a chance. The crystals covering the wound on his ankles remain, acting as scabs until his stony skin heals. He is a little worse for the wear, but a flash to his left gives little time for recollecting.
This... man, Peterson he thought he was called, appears through the shattering barrier. The Talon of Horus is impaled through... Kalana. As her telepathic image fades away in seeming death, Kitharsis's heavy hand wraps around the handle of his hammer.
He clenches his fist around the rune scrawled handle, pain runs up his arm as his burned and crackling skin buckles.
Cameron stands defeated. Jharm raises his hammer in defense, making no move to attack. The pieces of tattoo still intact on Kitharsis's arms begin to glow with power. But they quickly snuff out. A pained expression washes over Kitharsis's face. He grips his horseman's pick's handle even tighter as he falls to a knee.
Dangerously low on energy, Kitharsis realizes that defense is his only option at this point as well. Peterson continues spewing nonsense. He seems to be giving some macabre farewell speech. The Tirthandara rises to his feet once more, and begins pacing closer to Jharm and Cameron. The bone golem, whats left of it, follows behind. Stray bones fall to the floor as it walks. The power holding it together waning along with its master's strength.
Kitharsis intends to stand with his companions in solidarity. Should Peterson change his mind and attack, they will need a combined effort to even survive, let alone defeat him.
-
As both Soul and Gulgrim crash to the ground, the Wagh energy seems to dissipate and the sheer amount of energy he was pouring into Jharm’s shield was no longer necessary. He withdrew it back, feeling the power surge into his very being, strengthening him. He could feel the nasty wound on his side knitting up.
As Cameron declares them victorious, he allows himself a breath. They had been fighting so long and hard that he had almost lost himself multiple times. He pushed all his daemon transformation powers away and in a small glow of white light, returned to his true form. That of sepher, in his tattered coat and scale armor, blood splattered all over him. He wavered a bit as if he were going to fall over, but held himself up.
Sepher’s head jerked in the direction of the barrier as a flash came from that direction. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, then widened in surprise as four claws tore through barrier, blood seeping through. As the barrier shattered, he had to take a stumbling step back due to the pulse of energy from that direction.
Sepher’s mouth drops open as he sees Peterson standing there, Kalana implailed on the Talon of Horus. He felt cold, frozen. Suddenly, it turned to heat. Blinding, burning heat. They had lost so many already, and now another, Kalana, and he was playing with her corpse. Raw Chaos listened to his call as he drew it into his hand, gathering the energy. He did notice, however, that his companions weren’t moving. He could not do this alone. He glanced to Jharm and could see the holy warrior wanted to charge right in, but he heard him spoke.
"Peterson....by the light and glory of Nelathia I will see you punished for what you have done!"
And with that, noting kith also did not move forward, he steadied himself, waiting to see if this monster called peterson would attack. They would need all of their power if he should.
-
"Peterson… by the light and glory of Nelathia I will see you punished for what you have done!"
Peterson laughs.
“Jharm, Jharm, Jharm. So full of yourself. You’re going to punish me? Get over here and try it, then. Don’t just stand there.”
Peterson looks to Kitharsis and Daccio, who have taken up defensive positions but aren’t moving forward either.
“The same goes for the rest of you. If you think you can stop me, then by all means, let’s see it!”
Peterson continues to taunt the companions, but Cameron hasn’t heard anything the creature has said. His mind is unfocused. All of the memories that Kalana had dredged up from his mind to help Soul Reaver now echo hopelessly, almost taunting Cameron with how out of reach they now seem.
Cameron has been bracing himself for the oncoming shock of his mental link with Kalana being broken. That still has not come. He keeps reaching for the space in his mind where the link was, but instead of finding an empty jagged hole, he just finds nothing. As if no link was ever present in the first place.
It’s because she was in my mind when she died. It has to be.
Cameron knows that there is no backlash coming. And to him, that’s almost worse. He deserves to be punished for letting her die, but there is nothing. Nothing left.
Cameron closes his eyes as a single tear rolls down his face.
Nothing left.
The companions can feel a vast, terrifying power building. Cameron begins to shimmer.
Nothing at all.
Cameron’s eyes fly open. They are blank. His pupils and irises have vanished into a sea of white fire.
Nothing.
Cameron suddenly bursts forward. White energy trails behind him, forming the shape of large wings. As he passes over where the elemental blades lay on the ground, they fly into his hands and begin to reshape themselves into much larger weapons. By the time Cameron reaches Peterson they have doubled in length and the blade of each has been consumed by white fire.
“...So if none of you have the stones to attack me, then I’ll just be on my way-”
Peterson is cut off mid sentence by Cameron’s attack. Cameron swings both of the burning blades straight at Peterson’s neck. Peterson has just enough time to throw Kalana’s corpse to the ground and bring Drach’nyen and the Talon of Horus up in a cross to parry the blow. For a moment, they are locked in a stalemate. Cameron’s blades push against the daemon blade and the artifact weapon as Peterson begins to slide backwards, digging rivets into the floor.
“Oh, there you are. Finally wake up? This power of yours is new. I guess your girl must have done some tinkering in that head of yours before I snuffed her.”
Cameron says nothing. His expression is as blank as his eyes. Peterson slides further backwards.
“I know how you feel. Just like I knew how Soul Reaver felt. I know what it’s like to lose the one you love and not be there to stop it from happening. You’ve saved her before, but this time you couldn’t.”
Cameron’s expression remains blank, but he finally speaks. His voice is cold. Almost alien.
“You will pay for this.”
Peterson grins. He sets his feet and stops sliding backwards.
“But I’ve already paid. This is you paying me back.”
Chains manifest behind him and drip down to the floor, enveloping Kalana’s body in a shifting metal cocoon.
“We’re finally even now, you son of a bitch.”
Peterson vanishes. Cameron lurches forward, slamming his weapons into the ground where Peterson stood an instant before. For a moment he just stands motionless, the burning blades still clenched in his hands. Then he turns to face the companions.
The Cameron they see now looks nothing like the Cameron they know. His skin is now an ashen white, and he looks strangely inhuman. His eyes continue to be blank pits of white fire, and his hair is writhing as if it is alive. Huge glowing white wings stretch out behind him. He coldly regards the companions, almost as if he has forgotten them. Hhs gaze focuses on the fallen figure of Soul Reaver.
“This was your fault.”
Cameron begins to slowly walk towards Soul Reaver and the companions, with his burning weapons clenched in his hands. His slow, deliberate footsteps echo throughout the empty warehouse as he approaches. His expression cannot be read at all but the companions can practically feel the killing intent radiating from him.
“This is YOUR fault.”
Cameron continues his death march. He will reach Soul Reaver within moments.
-
As Gulgrim finally catches his breath he finds that Cameron has gone zoggin' mad and is marching at Soul Reaver.
"Wot? We doin' dis again? Zoggin' 'ell you 'umies is Weird in da 'ead. But 'least it's roight orky, it is."
Sensing another fight in his future, Gulgrim's energy immediately pulses with life. He can feel it building, slowly but surely. He's nowhere near at usual fighting strength yet, but at least this should be enough to do something. Indeed, it serves to be enough to get him on his feet again, and to cause his kutlass and gun to appear in his hands. He stands in front of Soul Reaver, facing Cameron. There's a heavy clacking noise as the slide of his rifle slams home.
"Roight. Might need a moment ta recharge, ladz. But I'll be zogged if I'z gonna skip out on a good fight."
Gulgrim is currently still mostly bluster, barely having the energy to stand and summon his weapons, but if a fight truly breaks out, and if he manages to stay alive, his power will slowly return until he is back at full fighting strength. Already his arms are slumping less, but there's none of the show of Orky power that is usually present in the Kaptin's combat stance.
He was vulnerable, at least for the moment, but he wasn't about to ignore a perfectly good scrap.
-
“Jharm, Jharm, Jharm. So full of yourself. You’re going to punish me? Get over here and try it, then. Don’t just stand there.”
The Seraphim scowls at the taunting response Peterson gives him. Jharm would like nothing more then to charge the twisted "man" in front of him but he doubted if he and his companions had the energy to defeat him right now. He then feels a vast power growing beside him and Jharm glances over to see a single tear roll down Camerons face and then his eyes fly open and they are completely white. The Elemental charges forward and locks weapons with Peterson.
“Oh, there you are. Finally wake up? This power of yours is new. I guess your girl must have done some tinkering in that head of yours before I snuffed her.”
“I know how you feel. Just like I knew how Soul Reaver felt. I know what it’s like to lose the one you love and not be there to stop it from happening. You’ve saved her before, but this time you couldn’t.”
“You will pay for this.”
That voice....that did not sound like the Cameron he had traveled with for so long.
“But I’ve already paid. This is you paying me back.”
“We’re finally even now, you son of a bitch.”
Then Peterson disappears along with Kalana's body. causing Cameron to lurch forward and slam into the ground. He then turns around to face the companions and Jharm takes a small step back, surprised at the change that has overcome his friend. The Cameron they see now looks nothing like the Cameron they know. His skin is now an ashen white, and he looks strangely inhuman. His eyes continue to be blank pits of white fire, and his hair is writhing as if it is alive. Huge glowing white wings stretch out behind him. He coldly regards the companions, almost as if he has forgotten them. His gaze focuses on the fallen figure of Soul Reaver.
“This was your fault.”
The Elemental then begins to slowly march towards the fallen warrior, it is clear that he seeks blood.
No....not again.
It would seem their newest companion (Gulgrim) has also realized what is going on but seems to have a slightly different opinion on the proceedings.
"Wot? We doin' dis again? Zoggin' 'ell you 'umies is Weird in da 'ead. But 'least it's roight orky, it is."
"Roight. Might need a moment ta recharge, ladz. But I'll be zogged if I'z gonna skip out on a good fight."
A scowl returns to the Serpahims face as a hint of anger surges through him briefly. This creature seemed almost....excited at what was happening. He did not seem to regard the fact that he was speaking of drawing blades against yet another of his fellow warriors. From his travels with the others he had learned a little bit about the Orks. A bloodthirsty, battle-lusting race who would fight against themselves almost as easily as against any other race. It mattered little though....this was NOT a fight he would allow the creature to have.
The Seraphim quickly summons his shield once more and moves in front of Gulgrim, intentionally blocking the creatures path to Cameron, while blocking Cameron from Soul Reaver.
"Cameron! Do not do this! It is EXACTLY what Peterson WANTS you to do! He is turning us against each other! Didn't you hear what he said?!? He twisted Soul Reavers thoughts and feelings just like he has done to you now! Think this through!"
A gleaming orb surrounds the Seraphim as he focuses his concentration of defending the crippled Soul Reaver. At the same time he sends a mental message to the Ork behind him
Stay your weapons Ork. There has been enough bloodshed here.
-
Though lying prone and with his eyes closed, Soul Reaver remains dimly aware of the proceedings around him. He hears the conversation between Peterson and Cameron. He senses a great power surging in Cameron, but even so it cannot prevent Peterson from escaping.
Then he hears Cameron speak in a strange voice unlike his own. He can feel their murderous intent directed at him.
“This was your fault.”
Soul Reaver struggles to muster enough strength to respond. He forces his eyes open again, though his vision is still mostly obscured by a thick smear of blood.
“This is YOUR fault.”
A huge figure interposes itself between himself and Cameron. Soul Reaver is dimly surprised to realize none other than the Ork is protecting him, apparently preparing to fight once more.
Concluding that this could end up in yet another fight - one they could ill afford - Jharm appears as well and tries to calm Cameron down.
Soul Reaver, in the meantime, has managed to raise himself to a half-sitting position, keeping himself upright with his right arm. He spits a mouthful of blood to the ground before looking up at Cameron. He speaks in a croaky, strained voice.
"Jharm is right. Nothing would please Peterson more than if we were all to continue to spill each others' blood here.
But you are right as well. I do not begrudge you your hatred. This was caused by my failings, my weaknesses. This... is not the first time I have failed, and not the first time it has cost someone something dear."
Soul Reaver seems to be searching for something to say, but eventually gives up, settling for something so mundane that, under the circumstances, it seems almost laughable.
"I am truly sorry, Cameron."
More quietly, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic emotion, he adds:
"She was my friend as well."
-
Peterson looked in his direction for just a moment, and spoke to them.
“The same goes for the rest of you. If you think you can stop me, then by all means, let’s see it!”
Sepher's fist clenched, and power built. He took a step foward, but couldnt let himself move any further. They just didn't have it in them to take him down right now.
He watched as Cameron, voice sounding... off, and peterson had a short exchange of words and sword blows. He took another hesitant step forward.
“Oh, there you are. Finally wake up? This power of yours is new. I guess your girl must have done some tinkering in that head of yours before I snuffed her.”
“I know how you feel. Just like I knew how Soul Reaver felt. I know what it’s like to lose the one you love and not be there to stop it from happening. You’ve saved her before, but this time you couldn’t.”
“You will pay for this.”
“But I’ve already paid. This is you paying me back.”
“We’re finally even now, you son of a bitch.”
Suddenly, Peterson vanished and Cameron's weapons slammed into the ground. He turned to face the companions, particularly soul and spoke, his voice cold.
“This was your fault.”
Cameron begins to slowly walk towards Soul Reaver and the companions, with his burning weapons clenched in his hands. His slow, deliberate footsteps echo throughout the empty warehouse as he approaches. His expression cannot be read at all but the companions can practically feel the killing intent radiating from him.
“This is YOUR fault.”
Sepher's eyes pinch shut. Even as his other companions begin to move and react, he just thinks to himself, that he's getting too old for this shit. His eyes pop open and he speaks, more than a little heat in his voice, even as he moves to stand next to the fallen soul reaver.
"Hasn't there been enough damned blood, Cameron?" he ground out "Don't turn into hate and anger too. Don't let this place consume you. We've all lost too much already."
-
Kitharsis glances at the other companions as Cameron marches towards them. They have all moved into defensive positions around Soul Reaver, so the Tirthandaran does the same. What's left of the Bone Golem steps between the companions and Soul Reaver, ready to intercede on his behalf in case Cameron makes it past the others.
-
Cameron continues his death march. He ignores the ork for the moment. The ork obviously wants a fight, and that is surely what he will get. But then Jharm shouts to him.
"Cameron! Do not do this! It is EXACTLY what Peterson WANTS you to do! He is turning us against each other! Didn't you hear what he said?!? He twisted Soul Reaver's thoughts and feelings just like he has done to you now! Think this through!"
Cameron's face remains void of any kind of expression. But his words drip with rage.
"Soul Reaver allowed himself to be corrupted in a moment of weakness. That is why she is dead."
Sepher is the next to speak.
"Hasn't there been enough damned blood, Cameron?" he ground out "Don't turn into hate and anger too. Don't let this place consume you. We've all lost too much already."
Cameron turns his expressionless gaze towards Sepher.
"You have lost nothing. I have lost everything. This is not your decision to make."
And as Cameron finishes speaking and continues moving forward, he hears Soul Reaver speak from behind the others.
"I am truly sorry, Cameron. She was my friend as well."
"She sacrificed herself to save you. She sacrificed herself..."
Cameron falters. He takes one more heavy step before stopping. His face is still expressionless, but he appears to be turning something over in his mind.
"The price was too great to pay."
And with that, the faceplate of Cameron's armor slams shut, hiding his face behind the expressionless metal plate of the Grey Knight's pattern. Be begins marching forward again, closing with the companions, seconds away from reaching them and engaging.
Cameron, stop.
Cameron had just raised his weapons and was preparing a lunge to attack Jharm and Gulgrim. He stops short.
Kalana? Where are you?
Cameron can hear Kalana's voice inside his mind. He has to concentrate to understand it over the echoes of other voices in his mind. It as if she is speaking to him from inside a crowded room.
Cameron, I don't have much time. My consciousness is still inside your mind, but my soul is gone and it has nothing to anchor itself to.
What does that mean? What can I do?
There's nothing you can do. My consciousness is being absorbed into yours. It's already hard for me to think... for myself. Within a few moments, I'll simply be... a collection of memories... inside your mind.
No! I can save you! I've saved you before! Peterson has your soul! I can-
No. Peterson doesn't take souls and keep them, like Abbadon did. Peterson... devours souls. There is... nothing.... left.
That's impossible. There has to be a way.
There... is not. You've already... saved me... so many times... but you cannot save me this time. You cannot... save... everyone.
Kalana! I can't lose you like this... I can't.
Cameron... this was not... your fault. And it wasn't Master Reaver's fault either. I chose... this path...
Cameron doesn't respond. He lowers his weapons slowly.
You... must move on... help the others... finish this fight... and make... sure that... my sacrifice... was not in vain.
Kalana's voice is slipping away. Lost in the crowd of other voices from memories inside Cameron's mind.
Your mind... open to you now... take my power... wield it well... find your true potential.
Cameron can feel it. Even with Kalana's presence waning, her psychic energy and the changes she made to his mind still persist. He seems to notice the elemental form that he is in for the first time.
I don't want this power. I'll give it all back just to see you one more time.
Faintly, Cameron hears Kalana laugh for the final time.
You... always were... useless without me... but I will always... be with you... I love you...
Cameron speaks out loud.
"I love you too."
There is no reply. Kalana's consciousness is gone. Cameron turns to the others. His weapons extinguish themselves and return to their normal shapes. The flaming wings at his back dissipate in a plume of smoke. And when his faceplate retracts again, his eyes are back to normal.
"I am sorry. I let my emotions get the better of me. But we don't have any more time for infighting. We have to keep moving. The Spire awaits."
Cameron turns back to the ruined part of the warehouse behind him. He raises Anathros into the air, and four beams of light extend from various piles of rubble.
"Karyl, Kari, Garr, and Mary. They're still alive. Please help me extract them from this mess."
Cameron begins to move towards the area where the Elementals are buried. As he turns away, Soul Reaver receives a mental message from him.
I guess now we're even as well.
-
Cameron continues to advance, apparently unmoved by the pleas of his companions. Soul Reaver is in no state to defend himself, but even so his muscles tense, and he begins to murmur words of magic. He doubted he could do anything to stop Cameron if he got past Gulgrim, Kitharsis and Jharm, but he wasn't the type to simply allow death to take him quietly. Cameron raises his weapons...
...but then gives pause. For a few moments, he stands, statue-like, as though fighting an internal battle. After a time, he speaks.
"I love you too."
Soul Reaver's face falls. He may not have heard the rest of Cameron's internal conversation, but the intonation of the words was unmistakable. It was a farewell, and there was no doubt about who it was meant for.
Cameron turns to his companions and issues an apology and asks for help in rescuing the other Elementals. As he turns away, Soul Reaver receives a mental message from him.
I guess now we're even as well
Soul Reaver shakes his head, though Cameron is not there to see it.
No, this was not a matter of debt. It wasn't a matter of payment or repayment. Soul Reaver had done something terrible, and it was his companions that had suffered for his errors.
In his long life, Soul Reaver had learned long ago that there was no point in keeping score - those numbers just tallied endlessly, and did nothing to undo the suffering that had already been inflicted. Kalana was gone, and he could not change it. He could only redouble his efforts now - not to atone, but to prevent worse from happening. And perhaps for revenge.
Soul Reaver manages a weak wave at his unexpected protectors.
"Thank you all for standing by me... despite everything."
With some effort, he gets into a kneeling position, and with a pained grunt, uses his remaining arm to leverage himself back onto his feet. His wounds are healing, though only slowly. He expended almost all his reserves during the battle, and it will take time for him to recover fully.
He walks over to Blooddrinker, lying in the ground nearby. He looks down the sword, his face impassive.
The malevolent blade looks the same as it always has. The metal is smooth, cold and unmarked, showing none of the cracks it manifested during the battle.
Never before had the Daemon Lord come so close to escaping as it had these scant few minutes ago. The weapon was insidious - it would seek out any weakness and tirelessly chip away at it. It would bring out the worst in its wielder, all for the purposes of strengthening itself enough to finally throw off its shackles.
Dare he pick it back up? Yet every attempt to divest himself of it has only led to further calamity...
He looked around at his companions. Perhaps this doom was inevitable - it may not happen during his own lifetime, but it could not be put off forever. He could only hope that when that time came, brave souls like those standing here would be there to stand against it.
He turned his attention back to the sword. He could not leave it. But if it was coming with him, he needed to know they were working for the same goal.
For all your scheming, you have been played for a fool.
The sword remained silent, but it heard.
You, the mighty Daemon Lord, used as little more than a convenient puppet by Peterson. He got what he came for, and you are left, trapped just as before.
Though it remains inert, Soul Reaver could imagine the fuming anger of the being within.
You will not overcome me again.
His custom scabbard - having been cut from him during the battle - manifests itself again on his back in a burst of red light. Soul Reaver picks up the sword and in a single, smooth motion, sheathes it back into place.
When the time came, the Daemon Lord's rage at Peterson would serve him well.
-
"I love you too."
Simple words, but their meaning is profound. Kitharsis exhales a breath he did not realize he was holding in. It seems that it is finally over.
Cameron requests assistance in finding the rest of the Elementals, but Kitharsis has someone else to tend to for the time being.
"Do not forget about Danyael," Kitharsis gives a quick, meaningful glance in Soul Reaver's direction. "I'm going to tend to him, if he is still with us. I will meet up with you all later."
The large sand sphere begins to collapse, sand falling in cascades around the seemingly lifeless body of his companion. The tiny skeletal mage looks up with faintly glowing eyes. It would appear that the enigma of a man known as Danyael has been motionless ever since being encased in Kitharsis's protection. The tiny mage shakes its head, but it perks up once it notices the bone golem lumbering towards the collapsing sphere.
The tiny mage's jaw works, clattering away wordlessly at its master. Kitharsis rubs his thumb and forefinger along his chin in thought. Danyael has always been a mystery, and Kith would not be surprised if he had some sort of trick up his sleeve here.
"I'm not sure if this is in vain or not," Kitharsis says out loud, addressing Danyael's body. "But if you are still with us, please give me a sign."
He says the last words almost pleadingly.
He awaits a response, but considering the circumstances he cannot tarry for too long.
-
The Seraphim braces as his friend raises his weapons, seconds away from attacking but then suddenly he just.....stops. Seconds pass as he seems to remain almost motionless, Jharm holding his hammer at the ready, unsure what is going on. Then he hears four words that hint that its over.
"I love you too."
He had no idea what may have just transpired within the mental realms of the Elemental, but he had traveled with Cameron long enough that those words would only have been uttered to one person, especially right now. Was Kalana somehow still within Cameron? That was a question the angellic being knew he could never ask...for what if he was wrong? In the end though it mattered little as Cameron lowers his weapons and then requests the companions assist in rescuing the other elementals. Launching himself into the air, the Seraphim quickly closes the distance to the nearest pile. Dropping his massive hammer, a resounding thud echoing as it fell to the ground. Jharm quickly begins to sling chunks of rubble out of the way, his almost godlike strength allowing him to heave any of the rubble out of the way, large or small. As he progressed he sent a brief image and message to Cameron.
A short image appears showing seemingly endless ranks of Seraph warriors, organized into exact military square formations, their armor gleaming in the light from an unseen sun. Flags bearing the emblem of the Seraph race flutter in a soft breeze as higher ranking Seraphs soar above the rank and file. In the far distance gargantuan humanoid figures can be seen standing behind the foot soldiers. The view pans out slightly to show Jharm standing upon a hill overlooking the forces. The Seraphim turns to the "viewer" and then a message enters Camerons mind.
I promise you my friend....when the time comes for Justice...you shall have it. The power of the Seraph legions shall be at your disposal if needed.
-
Soul Reaver closes his eyes and draws a deep, painful breath, as though bracing himself for something. He then turns on his heel and makes his way over to where Kitharsis' skeletal mage is tending to Danyael.
Soul Reaver draws up behind Kitharsis, and speaks in a hoarse whisper.
"How is he?"
-
Apparently there wasn't going to be a scrap. That was disappointing. But in the back of Gulgrim's mind, he wasn't certain getting into a fight while he was this out of juice was a good idea, so he remained quiet about it. Instead, he just followed Cameron as he started to head toward his buried comrades. He may be out of Orky power, but he was still a massively muscular giant.
As he reached the first pile of rocks hiding one of Cameron's boyz, he just began lifting and hurling the boulders away, his energy slowly returning as he got to work, the boulders he could lift becoming slowly more impressively large as his raw strength slowly began to increase under the return of his power.
Throughout this, he remained mostly silent, save for the noises of exertion as he lifted and tossed masses of rock away.
-
The little skeleton cocks it's head at Soul Reaver as he approaches. It's jaw clatters away in response to the question of Danyael's well-being. It's un-interpretable for Soul Reaver, but Kitharsis nods along with the little skeleton's speech.
Kitharsis clears his throat. "She doesn't quite trust you yet, but thinks you seem more reasonable than before."
The stony warrior kneels and grabs a fistful of sand. "But no signs of life from Danyael. He remains unresponsive."
He opens his fist and lets the sand run through his fingers.
"You certainly did a number on us, my friend."
-
Soul Reaver approaches Danyael's prone body. The sword wound he suffered in the battle would have been fatal for a mortal, but then Danyael was no ordinary mortal. Soul Reaver crouches down, looking at Danyael intently, then exhales a sigh of relief.
"He lives. His soul still resides in his body. I believe he is in some sort of regenerative stasis."
Soul Reaver continues to look down at Danyael. From his Infinity Pouch he draws forth some manner of salve, which he applies gently to Danyael's wound. The warrior - normally a paragon of strength - looks weary. Weary and old. When he speaks, he does so flatly, without looking up from his work. Yet the words come form his heart as surely as his life's blood.
"I wish I could say I was not myself when I did this. But that would be to make light of my own failings.
Having had to let Asaki go felt like a culmination of the many personal sacrifices I had been forced to make in the past. Deep down I was resentful, bitter... angry. At the Soreans, at myself, even at all of you. My feelings were irrational and unjustified, but Blooddrinker felt them, and must have used them against me ever since.
It was selfish of me to even consider wanting to keep Asaki with me.
Were I a better man, I would have taken comfort in knowing that to truly love something means being willing to let it go."
-
Sepher hears and sees little else beyond cameron’s march towards soul, and even as he spoke, his mouth dropped open slightly at cameron’s reply to his plea.
Cameron turns his expressionless gaze towards Sepher.
"You have lost nothing. I have lost everything. This is not your decision to make."
Sepher’s back stiffens slightly as he hears this, and his mouth clicks shut, his eyes narrowing towards cameron. He doesn’t know anything about Sepher’s past to be able to speak to him like that. He does not reply however. Just watches as cameron moves foward.
As cameron moves forward, hew finally speaks out loud again, seemingly to no one in particular, though sepher suspects that there might be more going on here.
Cameron speaks out loud.
"I love you too."
Finally, the elemental’s weapons extinguish, and his features seem to return to normal.
"I am sorry. I let my emotions get the better of me. But we don't have any more time for infighting. We have to keep moving. The Spire awaits."
Cameron turns back to the ruined part of the warehouse behind him. He raises Anathros into the air, and four beams of light extend from various piles of rubble.
"Karyl, Kari, Garr, and Mary. They're still alive. Please help me extract them from this mess."
Sepher sighs, some of his tension fleeing, before moving forward to assist cameron in the extraction.
-
"He lives. His soul still resides in his body. I believe he is in some sort of regenerative stasis."
Kitharsis is clearly relieved, "I would expect no less from him."
He rises as Soul Reaver applies a salve to the wound, leaving him to his work. As Soul Reaver explains his actions Kitharsis looks at him. The terrifyingly powerful being wreaking havoc on the companions mere moments ago is completely gone. An old, weary warrior stands before him. Kitharsis's own fatigue slumps his shoulders. He absently rubs the ruined tattoo on his forearm.
"Love is a strange thing," He says, eyes focused on a distant memory. "You are not the only one missing a piece of themselves. It's one of the oldest stories in the book."
A slight grin curves the corner of his lips. "But one as old of you would know that by now."
He crosses his arms, serious expression returning, "Had you not relented we would have killed you, or you would have killed us. Such is the price of your failings, and of our failings for not noticing your pain. A harsh lesson."
He places his hand on Soul Reaver's shoulder. "But we stand together, always. Do not forget that."
-
Soul Reaver finishes his work as Kitharsis speaks to him. A hard yet friendly hand places itself on his shoulder.
"But we stand together, always. Do not forget that."
Soul Reaver looks over his shoulder and allows himself a smile.
"I could not imagine anyone I would rather stand together with."
He then turns back to inspect Danyael.
"It is good that you were prepared to kill me if that's what it took. Such evil must be stopped at all costs.
It reassures me to know that if I were to fall - in whatever manner it may be - other worthy individuals will continue to hold the torch high"
He sits silent for a moment, then rises to his feet, putting the half-empty jar of salve back into his Infinity Pouch
"The salve will assist in the healing of his body, though I do not know what it will take to bring him out of his stasis. Hopefully all he requires is time.
He seems to draw strength from the land, so perhaps he would recover quicker if removed from this cursed place."
-
"A heavy torch to pass. But there will always be those willing to carry it." He gives Soul Reaver's shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting go.
"If time and distance is what he needs, I should be able to accommodate."
He digs through a pouch on his belt and pulls out a ceramic, rune covered object. He considers it for a time before handing it to the little skeleton.
"This is a recall rune. It will take whoever activates it to its twin on my ship. There is a trick to it, of course."
The little skeleton nods, fully aware of the secrets of the recall runes.
Kitharsis continues, "I have a large crew of skeletons in my ship. This is a call for backup or a quick escape. I'll have this skeleton take Danyael to my ship. And from there they will take him to the Shaman. He should be able to care for Danyael until he recovers."
The skeleton's hands glow and a sequence of runes activate on the surface of the object. It hops onto Danyael's body and with a wave the two of them disappear in a flash. After images of runes linger in the air and fade away.
Kitharsis sighs, "It's done."
He looks over his shoulder to where the others are digging for the elementals. "There is no time to waste. Let's assist them in finding the elementals."
-
Soul Reaver watches as Kitharsis brings Danyael to the safety of his ship. When Kitharsis talks about helping the others, Soul Reaver nods.
"I am not at my normal strength. But if another pair-" he looks at his missing arm and corrects himself, "-another hand will help, I will do what I can"
He glances around quickly and spots a large steel rod lying nearby.
That will serve as a crowbar.
He scoops it up in his hand and heads as fast as his wounds allow him toward the nearest pile of rubble lit by a light beam. When he arrives, he plants the steel rod with a grunt, then uses it to lever chunks of masonry off the pile.
-
Slowly but surely, the Companions dig through the rubble of the warehouse to extract the fallen Elementals.
As Jharm tosses debris aside, he sends a mental image to Cameron. Cameron is still weighed down by the loss of Kalana. But the image of Jharm’s forces combined with the promise of possible justice fills him with determination.
Thank you, friend. When the time comes, I look forward to having you at my side.
Just as Jharm receives Cameron’s reply, he breaks through the pile of debris to find Karyl face down on the ground. His guitar is underneath him, and he appears to be positioned to shield it from the falling rocks with his body. He is unconscious and badly in need of healing, as his arm and both legs are clearly broken.
Sepher is the next one to make a rescue. Heaving a huge support beam aside, he uncovers the crumpled form of Garr. He appears to be more intact than Karyl but a terrible gash on his head indicates where he took a direct hit from the falling beam. He is also unconscious.
Cameron barely overhears Kitharsis speaking with Soul Reaver as he digs through a pile of rubble nearby. They are tending to Danyael. After some time, Kitharsis sends Danyael to his ship. Cameron sighs and takes mental stock of how many people they have left.
Down another one. Who knows if we even have enough people left for the final assault. And I haven’t heard anything from the Marine forces since we entered this place. They could all be dead as well.
Cameron ends this train of thought as his next move uncovers a leg. He clears away more rubble until he has revealed all of Kari. She had managed to seal herself in a protective layer of ice and water, and as Cameron clears the last chunks of metal off of her, the barrier shatters. Kari struggles to rise, shaking her head.
“Cameron… what happened? Where is everyone?”
Cameron helps her to her feet. She is wounded and bleeding from multiple places but still able to stand. Cameron allows some of his elemental energy to enter her, replenishing her drained supply. Her wounds begin to slowly close.
“Peterson escaped. All survivors have been accounted for except for Mary”
Kari leans heavily on her staff as Cameron turns his attention to the pile that Gulgrim is working on. As Gulgrim lifts up another rock, he finds that he is being assisted from inside the pile. Within a few moments, Mary emerges. Her wounds are already knitting back together. She brushes herself off and looks at Gulgrim.
“Wow. NOT the first thing you want to see when you wake up.”
Mary shakes her head and pats the ork on his massive shoulder as she walks past him.
“Thanks for the assist, big guy.”
Cameron locks eyes with Mary as she turns towards him. His face is expressionless.
“Cameron! You brought down the barrier! Did you guys get Peterson? Is everyone okay?”
Cameron says nothing. Mary looks past him to the large pool of blood still staining the ground where the barrier had stood. Her face falls.
“...No, you didn’t get him, did you. We failed.”
Cameron seems to turn this over in his mind once or twice before disregarding it.
“Are you alright?”
Mary nods, breaking eye contact with Cameron and looking back towards the other elementals.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Banged up, and low on energy, but okay.”
Mary turns her attention to Garr and Karyl. They are both hurt pretty bad. She is just getting ready to walk back and she if she can help when Cameron’s voice rings out inside her head.
You knew, didn’t you?
Mary knew this question was coming, but she wasn’t expecting him to talk to her in her mind like this. It catches her off guard every time he does it. Mental powers are not normally one of the skills possessed by Elementals. And now Cameron’s voice in her head sounds louder than usual. Clearer. She almost replies out loud before remembering that he can hear her thoughts anyway.
I knew what, Cameron?
She turns to face him and discovers that he has not taken his eyes off of her or changed expressions since she took his eyes off him a few moments before. It’s obvious what he is about to say, but she lets him say it anyway, cause it’s easier than saying it herself.
You knew that she was going to die.
Mary closes her eyes and does not reply. Cameron’s eyes narrow.
“You DID know. You knew, and yet you didn’t tell me.”
Mary can’t help but notice that Cameron has stopped bothering to keep this conversation private. Kari, who had been making her way back to Karyl and Garr to try and heal them, stops and turns around.
“Yes. I knew. When this is all over, before I go to fight Peterson and save you and myself further in the past, I’ll brief the Mary from this time period on what happened. I know this because I was there, and that’s what I did. So yes. I knew. But I didn’t tell myself when, or how.”
Cameron’s eyes widen.
“Why the hell not? Did you not think that was important?”
Mary shakes her head.
“It’s not important.”
Cameron’s mouth falls open.
“What the fuck do you mean, it’s not important? Of course it’s important! You could have stopped this! I could have stopped this!”
Mary opens her eyes and stares back at Cameron.
“No. You couldn’t have. That’s not how this works. You can’t change anything that’s already happened. Time travel only works like that when you jump into alternate timelines. If you go back in your own timeline, then you can’t make any changes. You can try, but you’ll fail.”
Cameron doesn’t say anything, so Mary presses the point.
“I know that I was able to save myself and you cause you’re both still alive in my time. I know the Eye of Terror gets destroyed because it’s gone in my time. I know that Soul Reaver survives. And I know that Danyael survives. I don’t know about the rest of you. And I don’t know anything about the people who are missing right now. But I also know that Kalana is dead. I knew that before I came back here. And even though I knew I would fail, I tried to save her. I tried my hardest, even though I knew it was hopeless. I tried.”
Mary closes her eyes again.
“But I failed. I knew I would fail. If there was anything that I could have done here to stop it, then she’d still be alive in my time, but she’s not. There was nothing any of us could have done.”
Cameron shouts, clearly frustrated.
“You could have told me!!! I COULD HAVE STOPPED IT.”
Mary regards cameron coldly.
“If you had known, would you still have come here?”
Cameron is stunned into silence. Mary waits for a moment, and then asks again.
“Would you still have come here?”
Cameron lowers his head.
“No. I wouldn’t have.”
Mary turns her back on Cameron.
“That’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because I know you came here. You had to.”
Mary walks away to see if she can tend to Karyl or Garr. Kari hesitates for a moment as Mary passes, but eventually turns and follows her. Cameron remains behind, staring at the ground, lost in thought.
-
Gulgrim looks down at the twiggy thing he had unearthed quizzically as she casually comments on his appearance.
"Wot? Ya don't like me gob?" he asks, almost sounding offended at the implication that he was ugly. "I'z da biggest an' da greenest. Ain't nuffin' more flash den me." He doesn't press the point, however, as Mary walks past him to speak with Cameron. Done with his task, and seeing that the others are all about finished digging up survivors as well, Gulgrim stretches his massive arms, the muscles and joints audibly popping as he works out stress on his frame as if he had just finished a day's work. Looking around, he saw something that caught his attention. Soul Reaver was nearby Kitharsis, and the Ork noted that he was still missing an arm. Stomping over to the immortal warrior, Gulgrim stopped a few feet away and called out to him.
"Oi, spikey git, wit da black armor. You'z missin some o' yer gubbinz? You'z 'ad a nasty hook wit dat arm in our little scrap. You'z need a new one? I ken fix ya up somefin' proppa right quick."
-
Soul Reaver works silently alongside Gulgrim, though the massive ork works faster than the one-armed Soul Reaver. Nonetheless, together they soon have Mary free. She comments on Gulgrim's appearance and thanks him before joining Cameron.
Then the ork addresses him, offering to replace his missing limb. Having seen the state of orkish cybernetic 'technology' - not to mention his general distaste and lack of familiarity with high-tech weaponry - he thinks better of it.
"Thank you, but I must decline. My arm will grow back given enough time."
He scrutinizes the ork. He knew that these creatures were considered a major threat in the Imperial Plane, and this one seemed particularly powerful and war-like. Yet it apparently held no grudge, and there was no denying that it had been instrumental in stopping him, and saving his friends. He owed it a debt.
"You did me and all of us a great service by fighting me earlier. Your actions helped prevent the escape of a terrible Daemon Lord and bought the time needed for my friends to bring me back to my senses.
I hope, in time, to be able to repay you."
He throws aside the metal bar he had been using and extends a hand.
"We have already met each other in battle, but I know not your name. I am known as Soul Reaver. By what name are you called?"
-
"Da best way you'z ken pay me back is ta keep bringin' me ta da gud fights." Gulgrim says, clasping his massive metallic paw around Soul Reaver's relatively small hand in a rough semblance of a handshake. The cold steel of Gulgrim's right arm bends and folds surprisingly naturally for a product of Orkish construction. His face cracks out in a grin as he breaks the handshake and holds up his hand for Soul Reaver to inspect. The arm is metallic, and certainly has the garish ornamentation and rough appearance of orkish tech, but the craftsmanship of the cybernetic arm is unmistakably masterful. Servos and circuitry moving with perfect ease and functionality as the Ork's cybernetic hand spins a full circle on his wrist.
"Ta tell ya da truth, me own arm'd probably 'ave grown back too, but dis fing is right proppa flash, it is." he chuckles, bringing the arm back to his side, and looks the smaller man square in the eyes with a toothy grin.
"Da name's Gulgrim Bonecruncha. I'z da Avatar o' Gork n' Mork. Don't let nobody tell you'z dere's an Ork meaner n' Greener den me. Not even Ghazghkull ken match da power I've got."
-
Kari arrives as Mary is trying to set Karyl’s legs back into place. He is still mercifully unconscious, but groans in pain anyway as Mary works.
“Dr. Katrea, some of that patented Water Elemental regeneration magic would greatly improve our patient's condition, if you don’t mind.”
Kari nods and raises her hands as she focuses her energy. A mist forms around Karyl’s body. His bones begin to regenerate as his other wounds seem to knit themselves closed. After a few minutes, Kari lets her hands fall and the mist clears. Karyl stirs.
“Unnnnngh, that fucking SUCKED. I haven’t been beaten that badly since that concert on Cecelia Prime when I sang that song about that dude’s wife.”
Karyl reaches to his left until he feels his guitar under his fingertips.
“At least my baby is okay. That’s all that matters.”
Mary smirks.
“You’re an idiot, as always. Are you going to be okay?”
Karyl nods, though he makes no move to get up.
“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Just five more minutes, okay?”
Mary stands up and looks at Jharm, who is still standing nearby.
“Hey, angel guy. Can you keep an eye on my idiot friend here? He might need help getting up.”
Mary turns to Kari.
“I’m going to go see if Garr needs attention. Go check on the big guy over there.”
Kari looks at Gulgrim, confused. The ork seems fine. Mary follows her gaze.
“No, no. Not that one. The slightly smaller guy. Soul Reaver. The one who’s down an arm.”
Kari shifts her gaze to Soul Reaver and cringes.
“Uh… yeah. That looks like it should be tended to.”
Kari makes her way to Soul Reaver as Mary walks back towards Garr and Sepher. Mary calls out to Sepher as she approaches.
“Hey. Is he alright?”
Kari reaches Soul Reaver and Gulgrim just as they finish shaking hands. She waits for Gulgrim to finish speaking before interjecting.
“I can probably speed that regeneration up a bit, if you’d like.”
Cameron has not moved during this time. He continues to stand away from the others, looking at nothing.
-
Thank you, friend. When the time comes, I look forward to having you at my side.
The Seraphim visibly nods, though his reponse is only heard by Cameron
And by your side shall I be....I swear it.
Just then he removes the last of the debris from the pile to reveal the unconscious Karyl. Jharm begins to reach down to examine the Elemental when the sound of raised voices catches his attention. Looking up, his gleaming orbs of light rest upon Cameron and the elemental called Mary having some sort of argument. The holy warrior still had no real understanding on most of the Elementals and the one known as Mary made the least sense of all, but Jharm could easily tell that the two (especially Cameron at the beginning) were quite angry with each other. Sighing softly, the Seraphim stands up, his large gauntlets grasping his helm and removing it, revealing his pure white skin. Placing the helm on the end of his hammers handle he shifts as he is about to move to seperate the two when the argument ends. A moment later Mary moves in his direction and with the aid of one of the other Elementals (kari) seems to resuscitate Karyl.
“Hey, angel guy. Can you keep an eye on my idiot friend here? He might need help getting up.”
Jharm raises an eyebrow towards Mary upon hearing such a....strange designation for him. He is about to respond then stops.
No....she did not mean any harm by it and there has been more then enough bickering and in-fighting recently to last for quite some time.
The Seraph gazes around the field, seeing the assortment of bruises, cuts, and other injuries the Companions and Elementals had recently endured. Time was of the essence though and the longer they tallied here the more time Peterson would have to prepare for them. Peterson.....he had fought with the now horribly corrupted and twisted soldier back before such a dark fate had befallen him. He had seemed to be an honorable warrior but the creature that had slaughtered Kalana and toyed with her corpse was no longer that same man. The joy and amusement that Peterson had displayed as he further tormented and tortured Cameron sickened the creature of Light to his very core. He forces the disgust away though as he seeks to concentrate on his next action. Dropping to one knee, the plated knee thumping into the dirt below, he closes his eyes as his mouth begins to form silent words of prayer as his hands tighten into fists. A soft warm glow of light envelops his form, the glow increasing each second until it seems almost as if a miniature sun resides within his armored form. Suddenly his mouth stops moving as his head raises and his eyes open up. The orbs within glow briliantly as well, and then the Seraphs arms thrust straight out to each side as the light explodes out from him, washing over all of the Companions and Elementals. The glow seems to "stick" to each one as Jharms hands remain open, his large form shaking slightly as his mouth begins to move silently once more. Everyone can feel a veritable wave of warmth and relaxation wash over them as their wounds are healed, their thoughts cleared, and their spirits rejuvenated. Then after a minute Jharm all but collapses to the ground, the light instantly fading away.
"Th.....thank you....oh glorious Lady."
Shakingly the Seraphim pushes himself up, reaching over to grasp the handle of his hammer and using the weapon to stabilize him. As he rises his gazes passes over those gathered around him until it finally settles on Sepher.
The other demon-wielder....and that reminds me....
Leaving his hammer and helm where they were, the Seraphim walks over to where Sepher stands. The heavy armor around his large form glows faintly, almost as if a side effect of the amount of power he just focused through his form. His glowing orbs settle on the human in front of him, his expression blank.
"Tell me....demon-wielder. Should we be concerned about you potentially losing control next?"
I also sensed the change within you.......
The angellic knights tone while it has a slight...."judgemental" tone to it, also bears concern within it. With one of the Companions that dealt with demons already having been overcome by the evil of the Eye.....was the other such Companion a "walking time bomb"?
-
As sepher nealt to inspect Garr, he reached out and gently inspected the head wound. It looked painful and headwounds always blead a lot. He was going to have a headache at the very least, but it would be impossible to know otherse until Garr woke up, what sort of condition he was actually in. Garr seemed fairly stable for the most part, however.
He did not have healing powers of his own, or rather, he did not want to try to use the power of his daemons to try to heal others. He instead took a small canteen of water from his belt and began to wash the wound gently. He sighed as Mary and Cameron began to have words with one another. This place was really doing a number on them.
Mary approaches sepher and calls out to him, to see if Garr is okay, and sepher replies quietly.
"Well, as long as nothing is broken inside of him, he's probably going to have a mean nasty headache and a concussion, but head wounds bleed a lot so he's probably going to be okay."
Just then however, a wash of light flashes over them, healing their various wounds. Tension eases in Sepher's chest
"Well, I guess he's definately going to be okay now"
He stood up and gave mary a brief smile before turning as Jharm approached. He rubbed his eyes a bit as Jharm spoke.
"Tell me....demon-wielder. Should we be concerned about you potentially losing control next?"
Tilting his head a bit at being called Demon wielder, he responds with what he heard from mary ealier, putting particular emphasis on angel guy.
"Well, Angel guy, I think I should be okay. I have better control over them than I have in a while. They are.....quiet." he said that as if it was the most wonderful thing ever. It was obvious, that even in his own head, Sepher was never alone.
-
The elementals are a little worse for the wear, but it seems that everyone will recover. Cameron and Mary have a back and forth. It seems that Mary knew what would happen, but could not stop it. A heavy burden to carry.
So Danyael lives... Kitharsis frowns slightly. He has an odd feeling about what is happening on his ship.
----
Meanwhile, on said space ship, Kitharsis's skeleton crew is busy clattering about. Their task, while Kitharsis is away, is to scan the multiverse for traces of Tirthandaran activity. The crew of mages and grunts are happily going about their business until Danyael's seemingly lifeless body pops through the recall portal.
The tiny Mage accompanying him rides his body like a surf board as it skids across the floor. Alarm bells sound as containment spells are cast and weapons are readied. If Danyael were to wake at this moment his eyes would find a thatchwork of barriers and pointy weapons aimed at his head.
The tiny Mage waves it's hands in the air, it's jaw clacking away as it explains the situation. Weapons are lowered and the barrier spells are dispelled just as quickly as they were erected. The skeletons go into triage mode immediately.
Gurneys are hauled out of storage as three teams of skeletons try to assist the wounded warrior. Danyael's legs are dangling off of one gurney while his right arm is being strapped into another. His head is put in traction while another team of skeletons silently inspect the ring finger on his left hand.
New, shrieking alarms sound and the ship goes stock still. They all watch as a skeleton barely a foot tall climbs up Danyael's torso and carefully reaches to the wound on his chest.
You could hear a pin drop as the little bony fingers grasp at a stray thread on Danyael's chest. The skeleton plucks the thread off and the skeleton crew erupts in celebration.
Amidst the celebration the thread is placed into a brown ceramic pot. A heavy lid is fastened onto it while numerous runes activate along the rim. A vacuum seal seats the lid in place as the final rune's light fades away.
The celebration over, the crew of skeletons all sit down facing Danyael. They eagerly await his coming-to.
-
Gork and Mork... Soul Reaver recalls having read something of those names in some dusty old codex. They were the nearest thing these Orks had to dieties. If Gulgrim was their avatar, it would explain how he was accomplishing those feats during their battle.
When he finishes speaking, Kari appears and offers to help heal Soul Reaver. The warrior glances down at his arm.
"Yes, that would be greatly appreciated."
He briefly turns back to Gulgrim to complete his conversation.
"Most pleased to meet you, though I must now attend to my injuries."
The weary Soul Reaver allows himself a sardonic smile at Gulgrim.
"And I would say that staying near us is a pretty good guarantee of 'good fights' eventuating."
He then turns his attentions back to Kari. He pauses momentarily as he scans the wounded, dust-covered elementals standing across the battlefield. Were they aware how much he was to blame for their injuries? What good would it do if they knew? Was it right to keep it from them? The least he owed them was honesty.
"Forgive me Kari. I fear that Peterson used my weaknesses against me... caused me to lose control of Blooddrinker. It was I that delayed Cameron and prevented him coming to your aid sooner. Perhaps if not for me, Kalana..."
He trails off, then shakes his head.
"...But it does no good to speculate. All that remains now is revenge."
Behind Soul Reaver, Jharm completes his prayer, and a wave of soothing light suddenly washes over him. It feels like a balm to body and troubled soul, and it is as though a weight has been lifted from Soul Reaver's shoulders. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply as the glow suffuses him. When he reopens his eyes, most of his wounds appear to have healed. His arm has regenerated down to just past the elbow - a considerable improvement. If Kari was still willing to help him, his physical recovery would likely be completed in short order.
-
The elementals are a little worse for the wear, but it seems that everyone will recover. Cameron and Mary have a back and forth. It seems that Mary knew what would happen, but could not stop it. A heavy burden to carry.
So Danyael lives... Kitharsis frowns slightly. He has an odd feeling about what is happening on his ship.
----
Meanwhile, on said space ship, Kitharsis's skeleton crew is busy clattering about. Their task, while Kitharsis is away, is to scan the multiverse for traces of Tirthandaran activity. The crew of mages and grunts are happily going about their business until Danyael's seemingly lifeless body pops through the recall portal.
The tiny Mage accompanying him rides his body like a surf board as it skids across the floor. Alarm bells sound as containment spells are cast and weapons are readied. If Danyael were to wake at this moment his eyes would find a thatchwork of barriers and pointy weapons aimed at his head.
The tiny Mage waves it's hands in the air, it's jaw clacking away as it explains the situation. Weapons are lowered and the barrier spells are dispelled just as quickly as they were erected. The skeletons go into triage mode immediately.
Gurneys are hauled out of storage as three teams of skeletons try to assist the wounded warrior. Danyael's legs are dangling off of one gurney while his right arm is being strapped into another. His head is put in traction while another team of skeletons silently inspect the ring finger on his left hand.
New, shrieking alarms sound and the ship goes stock still. They all watch as a skeleton barely a foot tall climbs up Danyael's torso and carefully reaches to the wound on his chest.
You could hear a pin drop as the little bony fingers grasp at a stray thread on Danyael's chest. The skeleton plucks the thread off and the skeleton crew erupts in celebration.
Amidst the celebration the thread is placed into a brown ceramic pot. A heavy lid is fastened onto it while numerous runes activate along the rim. A vacuum seal seats the lid in place as the final rune's light fades away.
The celebration over, the crew of skeletons all sit down facing Danyael. They eagerly await his coming-to.
So much happening all at once. The campaign. The return. The battle. The betrayal. The sacrifice. And then... what? Everything was such a blur. he was both awake and asleep, unable to do anything as his dearest friend saved and protected him. If Kitharsis would allow him, Danyael would give him anything he could ever want if asked. He heard whisperes in the dark, though it wasn't necessarily the darkness he found himself in. Flicks and glints of light blinked in and out of existence as the faint noises became distinct words, connected to the people who spoke them. He heard echoes of sorrow and screams of misery, eclipsed by howls of rage and bellows of longing redemption. And all the while, Danyael had the deepest of difficulties climbing his way back out of the dark and into the light. And then, all of a sudden, there was calm. A deep and mourning calm. He felt his friend, Kitharsis, mention the Nephilim Lord not be forgotten - a pleasant deed done, one whom Danyael appreciated all the more. But still, the nephilim lord found it a daunting task to pull himself into wakefulness. And then he heard a voice he'd prefer to sooner forget. Soul Reaver, asking of his status, was a presence he'd prefer to keep his distance from. "All of that rampaging and you dare feign concern?" he sneered to himself, only to feel something slick ooze over his wound. "What is tha-...ew..." though it came with some soothing sensation that put the pain to a calmer note.
And then came the flashes of light that brought not only a change in temperature, but an all around change in energy altogether. he felt feet, small and bony, accompanied by chattering and clicking - communication, maybe? And then he woke up and saw their faces. Small, skeletal faces. All looking at him. OH, this wasn't in the slightest bit creepy. He waited a moment, then looked tot he closest one to him. "Hi." he gave a small salute with his fingers, then sat up slowly, politely, looking to the skeleton mage. "Any chance you could help me... y'know... get back?"
-
Jharm's healing light is very welcome. The crystal's protecting his ankles become brittle and shatter into pieces as Kitharsis walks. His wounds were mostly healed by now, thanks to Jharm's efforts. His energy reserves were beginning to fill again. The cleansing of the dark Tirthandaran energy is always amplified when he is touched by Jharm's healing abilities. Something he should ask the "Angel guy" about, as Sepher calls him.
Kitharsis approaches the two of them during their exchange.
"I believe you may be among more than a few warriors with darkness within them, Jharm. Although I'm not entirely sure what to make of whatever is aiding Gulgrim at this point..."
He clears his throat, clearly having digressed from his intentions.
"I do have to wonder-"
He cuts off, as if struck by something.
"Excuse me a moment."
Kitharsis hurriedly trots a few yards away to an open space. He takes the sharp, bladed end of his horseman's pick and carves a wide circle on the floor. Inside the circle he traces lines from the borders of the circle in a lopsided geometric pattern. In the center of it all he delicately traces rune.
He steps outside of the circle and places his left palm on the circles edge. The tattoo on his palm feeds energy into the pattern, and it begins to glow faintly. Satisfied, he backs away and crosses his arms, waiting.
--------
Meanwhile back on the skeleton ship, the tiny skeleton being addressed by Danyael stares blankly in response to his question of returning. The skeleton's bony mouth slowly hangs open, before one side of its jaw disconnects from the rest of its skull. Quite embarrassed, it quickly reassembles its mouth before hopping off of its perch on Danyael's chest.
The group of skeleton's scatter, each digging through a different compartment within the ship. Finally, a taller warrior skeleton pulls out a stick of charcoal and begins drawing on the floor. It is the exact opposite of what Kitharsis carved into the floor, galaxies away. As the skeleton puts the finishing mark on it, a tiny mage casts a quick spell, illuminating the intricate rune circle.
The skeletons line up between Danyael and the glowing rune circle. The tiny mage that brought Danyael to the ship tugs on his pant leg and points toward the circle. It would appear that this is the way back.
-
The Seraphim notices the emphasis that Sepher places on the phrase "Angel guy". He doesn't seem to show any real reaction though other then a slight nod, though his brow does seem to raise slightly as Sepher mentions "them" being quiet.
"That is good to hear."
He then turns as Kitharsis approaches them and speaks.
"I believe you may be among more than a few warriors with darkness within them, Jharm. Although I'm not entirely sure what to make of whatever is aiding Gulgrim at this point..."
Something seems to cause the warrior to stop what he is saying and suddenly dash off a short distance and begin drawing in the dirt. Jharm turns back towards Sepher once more.
"Yes...just about all have some sort of darkness within them. That is not the darkness that concerns me right now. The Eye, and those we face within it, has already demonstrated how debilitating and potentially controlling it can be towards some of us. The last thing we need is for a repeat of what we just faced. With that said though....you say that you have it under control and I shall believe you. Though...."
The Seraphims gaze turns towards the large Ork, the most recent Companion to join the group and also the one who was quite willing to enter battle with Cameron without any hesitation.
"I am not so sure about some others...."
-
While the others are busy talking, Gulgrim sets to work readjusting himself. Fixing his hat and putting out a few bits of himself that might still be on fire, even after all this time, Gulgrim realizes what he's missing.
"Oh, zog." Gulgrim says, almost aghast at the idea that he could have forgotten. He looks about, his eyes first finding Soul Reaver. "No, dat won't do." Then he manages to rest eyes on Cameron. "No, 'e didn't even..." He looks across the way to the huge dead mass of the plague demon he had slain. "Nah, too smelly." Then to the....Ashes of the Steelheart he blew up.
"Zog me, wot's an Ork got ta do ta get a trophy?"
There's a flash of green lightning and the Ork appears behind Cameron, speaking loudly into his ear at close proximity.
"Oi! Space marine! Quit yer' mukkin' about an' 'elp me get a trophy off one o' dese fings. It'll give ya somefin' ta do." Without even waiting for a response, Gulgrim turns and proceeds to walk toward the corpses of the plague demon and the Steelheart, determined to get SOMETHING worth displaying on his trophy rack.
-
Mary sighs in relief as Jharm’s healing wave washes over everyone. Her wounds were not serious, but the healing does take care of a few cracked ribs and closes a few deep gashes. She is more relieved by the fact that Garr’s head wound has closed and he seems to be stirring. She sets to helping him back to his feet. He is still fairly disoriented.
“...Mary? Were we victorious?”
Mary frowns.
“Not… exactly. But Peterson’s been pushed back for now. Kalana…”
Mary doesn’t finish, but after taking a quick glance around the battlefield, he simply nods in understanding. Mary glances over at Cameron, but Cameron isn’t paying any attention to them at the moment.
“Keep an eye on him. He’s not taking it well. And he certainly doesn’t want me anywhere near him right now.”
Garr nods again and begins heading in Cameron’s direction. Mary makes her way over to Kitharisis, who appears to have opened a portal.
“Anything I can help with, big guy?”
Kari sees that Soul Reaver’s arm has partially regenerated after Jharm’s spell, but it could obviously use some further help. She extends her hands over it. Instead of healing the entire body overall, she focuses on flowing her regenerative magic directly into the part of the arm that is regenerating. It should speed up the process greatly.
Karyl has returned to his feet and is idly tuning his guitar. Amazingly, none of the strings have broken, though he worriedly buffs at a scuff on the back of the neck before realizing that it isn’t a scratch and breathing a comically loud sigh of relief.
Cameron is lost in thought when Gulgrim shouts from behind him. It’s like someone is holding a loudspeaker directly to his ear. He jumps and whirls around a bit too fast.
“What the fuc- Oh, it’s you. You scared the shit out of me.”
As Gulgrim makes his request for help with finding a trophy, Cameron’s first thought is at how absurd the idea even is. With everything else going on, is that really the thing to be worried about? Yet even as this thought crosses his mind, he finds himself scanning the battlefield for something appropriate.
“Hmm. There’s got to be something here. Look at this mess.”
Cameron begins poking around the debris with one of his swords, attempting to find anything that Gulgrim might be able to use.
-
Soul Reaver closes his eyes and focusses on restoring his lost limb. Kari's healing abilities make it far easier than normal - new, healthy flesh flows outward until Soul Reaver once more sports an unblemished hand. He opens his eyes and wriggles his fingers experimentally, before balling his new hand into a fist. He looks Kari in the eyes and nods at her.
"Thank you, that is a significant improvement. And we will need all the hands we can spare."
He gestures over his hand. There is a brief burst of red light, and his Black Steel Gauntlet reappears in its intended position.
Meanwhile, Gulgrim's frustration at being denied a trophy has not escaped Soul Reaver's attention. Soul Reaver knows that he will not have any luck searching for any Daemonic remains. He makes his way toward the Ork, calling toward him as he approaches.
"Gulgrim, why collect a trophy when the battle is not yet concluded? I was manipulated to distract and delay you all - but the architect of this situation is Peterson, the chaos follower you saw just before."
Soul Reaver's expression darkens.
"The battle only ends when he falls. It is his head you should try to collect as a victory trophy."
-
Gulgrim is busy overturning boulders to look for remains when Soul Reaver gets his attention. His red Cybork eye glows brightly, almost with mirth, as the dark knight makes his case for hunting Peterson.
"Aye? You'z got a Rukk wif dis git ya want solved? I'z fink I'z ken do dat, if'n ye'z ken promise me 'iz head fer me trophy rack after we'z done. I'z not leavin' dis 'ell 'ole wivvout somefin' new on me pointy sticks." The Ork's grin nearly took in his ears as he clenched his metallic fist and slammed it into the open palm of his Orky hand.
"If you'z know where ta find 'im, point me in da right direction, an' we'll get ta krumpin' 'em."
From somewhere behind Gulgrim's shadow, a lone boy appeared, scratching his head and holding his shoota low to the ground, looking confused.
"Um, boss? Where'd da fight go?"
Gulgrim's metal hand was around the Ork's throat before he could finish the sentence, and as he hoisted the smaller greenskin up to his face, he glared him down as the lesser Ork looked terrified.
"You louzy runts. You lot tryin' ta turn on me an' take me spot as da boss made more of a mess den I needed."
"I'z sorry boss, it wasn't me! I swe-URGK" Gulgrim crushed the Boy's throat with his metallic hand with a noise like a trash compactor compressing a Meat slab.
"All'z forgiven." He said almost sarcastically as he dropped the lifeless Ork runt from his hands. "Least me boyz're back where dey belong."
-
The Seraphim watches in silence as the verbose Warboss bellows about "needing" to find a trophy. Jharm had initially been....agreeable to the Ork joining them as Cameron had seemed alright with it. The knight had never encountered an Ork before, especially a Warboss, but especially after the recent events he found himself having a..."dislike" towards the green creatures. Almost as if to further cement the dislike, the Warboss spins on one of his "boyz" as he called them and berated him and then in the blink of an eye crushed the soldiers neck, a chuckle slipping from his monstrous maw. Slipping his helm over his head, he uses the action (and ensuing plate masking his face) to hide his disgust at the utter barbarism the creature seems to revel in. Moving forward he slings his hammer up onto his shoulder as he moves closer to Cameron.
"Yes....a distraction. It is time we move on and hunt down the mastermind behind things. Justice must be handed out, and time is of the essence."
-
Kitharsis stares at the faintly glowing rune circle intently. He heard Mary's question, but chooses not to reply for some time. Before long he wrinkles his mouth with concern, tapping the head of his horseman's pick on the ground.
"I was alerted that Danyael wished to return already. But it seems I may have been premature in opening the pathway."
He points at the rune circle.
"There is a mirror image of this rune on my ship, and when both circles are given energy they open a transport between them. I dare not keep it open for too long, or unattended, considering our surroundings."
The towering warrior turns and faces Mary.
"You seem to have some kind of foresight. Tell me, what should we expect from Peterson?"
-
Mary frowns when Kitharsis asks her what to expect.
“It’s not really foresight. I just have some advanced knowledge of what happened here. In my time, this all happened 5 years ago.”
Mary steals a glance in Cameron’s direction, but his back is turned. She turns back to Kitharsis.
“Most Warp travelers use their abilities to keep themselves anchored to their own timeline while traveling great distances. It’s how they avoid getting lost. Imperial ships do this too, either with the help of the Astronomican, or fixed warp gates, or more advanced technology. But as a Warp Elemental, I can navigate it without anchoring myself. This allows me to move through both time and space, but is extremely difficult. Even more so than regular warp travel.”
“The problem is that time travel in the warp doesn’t work the same way you’d think it would. There are multiple timelines in multiple planes. Each plane of existence has a multitude of others that are similar to it but have minor differences. Some of these timelines have split off because of the interference of people with abilities like mine. But because of that, we cannot truly change the past. All doing that does is split off another timeline. Another plane of existence. And because they’re so closely mirrored, it is almost impossible to travel between them on purpose. It normally happens as the result of an accident. So if I did split off a new timeline, I would be trapped there. Unable to return to my own.”
Mary breaks eye contact with Kitharsis and gazes at his rune on the ground.
“I was able to come back and do this because I knew I did. My past self, the one from this timeline, who is on Cameron’s ship right now… I go back and tell her everything that has happened here once this is all over. And that knowledge keeps me anchored. Keeps me from splitting off into another timeline. I knew that I could save Cameron because that’s what happened. But I know I didn’t save Kalana. So in the end, saving her would have simply doomed me. And it wouldn’t have helped this Cameron, cause she still would have died here anyway.”
Mary chuckles.
“It’s very confusing. We can talk about it more another time, if you want. This probably isn’t the best place or time to get into it. But to answer your question…”
The sound of heavy footfalls causes Mary to look up. Cameron has finished looking around and is making his way back over to them. Mary looks back to Kitharsis.
“I don’t know if he survives. I was only given certain details about our final fight with him, and no one ever did give me a straight answer on that. But I do know that he is incredibly powerful, completely unhinged, and enjoying every minute of this. You should expect the worst thing you’ve ever faced.”
Cameron arrives as Mary finishes speaking. They make eye contact for a moment but say nothing. Cameron then turns to face Kitharsis.
“Is this going to take much longer? We need to get moving.”
Mary looks down at the rune and then back to Cameron.
“I can stay here and wait for Danyael. The rest of you can go on ahead. I’ll be able to bring him to you once he comes through.”
Cameron nods.
“Fine. If Kitharsis is fine with that, then do it. The rest of us need to get moving. I have no idea what’s happening out there or even how long we’ve been down here, and it’s starting to worry me.”
Cameron waves everyone over. The other elementals join him and the remaining Companions. Cameron points above him.
“That is our best hope of getting out of here without having to deal with any more Chaos bullshit.”
Cameron is pointing to the massive hole that his meteor attack left in the ceiling. It at once looks very close and impossibly far away due to the Chaos magic still lingering, but the swirling purple maw of the sky can clearly be seen beyond it.
“If we fly straight up, as fast and as hard as we can, we will eventually break through. From there, we should finally be able to reach the base of the Spire. But uh…”
Cameron looks around at the Companions.
“Stupid question, but can everyone here fly?”
-
Soul Reaver watches quietly as an ork boy appears and is crushed by an angry Gulgrim.
That ork was not here a few seconds ago. There was no teleporation or Warp travel involved. Somehow, reality changes itself near him. I am not sure if he even realizes he is doing it though...
Soul Reaver's observations are interrupted when Cameron rallies everyone to his position. After he describes where they are going, Soul Reaver looks up at the hole in the ceiling.
"I can cast a spell that will allow me to take flight. However, my stores of Mana are low - I do not know how long I would be able to sustain high-speed flight."
Soul Reaver sits down on a nearby chunk of rock.
"I will endeavour to gather as much power as I can before we leave."
He closes his eyes and focuses on the etherial realm around him. Invisible save for the initiated, the ocean of magic begins to flow into him, like a vortex of water drawn into an endless chasm. In this place, much of it is tainted and must be discarded, but even so, Soul Reaver's Mana reserves gradually begin to fill.
-
The Seraphim's gaze falls upon Cameron as the Elemental gathers them together.
“That is our best hope of getting out of here without having to deal with any more Chaos bullshit.”
Cameron is pointing to the massive hole that his meteor attack left in the ceiling. It at once looks very close and impossibly far away due to the Chaos magic still lingering, but the swirling purple maw of the sky can clearly be seen beyond it.
“If we fly straight up, as fast and as hard as we can, we will eventually break through. From there, we should finally be able to reach the base of the Spire. But uh…”
“Stupid question, but can everyone here fly?”
The angellic warrior's wings shift ever so slightly as if giving a silent response to the question.
"Such a task is simple for me, and I could carry one of the others....except for the Ork probably."
He watches as Soul Reaver moves off a short distance to rejuvenate his stores of magical power. Jharm realizes that he is also exhausted his connection with the Light after the recent battle and his efforts at tending to the subsequent injuries.
"While we wait I must commune with the Light, especially as we will certainly be facing many more obstacles before we reach the end of this hellish domain."
Moving back a few steps he places his hammer down and drops down to one knee, his helmeted head lowering down. Should anyone draw near they would hear the faint sound of the Seraphim prayer to the Light, the words indecipherable to any of them but still seeming to radiate a sense of calm and serenity.
-
"Fly, eh?" Gulgrim takes a moment to look up at the hole in the ceiling. "Lemme see if I'z ken do somefin' about dat."
As the Warboss turned around to face his Warbike that hadn't been there a moment ago, he scratched his chin with his metal hand before seeming to be struck with an idea.
"I fink I'z got it." The Ork began hauling Scrap metal over to the bike and set to work, bolting bits and pieces of metal onto the already massive frame of the Deffchoppa. The sound of welding metal, buzzing blades, and power tools echoed through the area as the Kaptin made his changes.
After what felt almost like an impossibly brief amount of time considering the scale of the task before him, Gulgrim stepped back to take in his handiwork; He had managed to meld a quad set of cobbled together propeller blades to his bike.
"Well, time fer a test run, then." The ork hauled his massive frame into the equally massive driver's seat and kicked the engine to life. A few moments later the four sets of blades began to spin up, scraping against each other at first and getting into speed, rotating faster and faster until they were chopping the air with a ridiculously loud sound of spinning blades.
A few moments later, the bike lifted off the ground, the Warboss being carried aloft precariously by the force of these blades. Slowly rising in the air, the Warboss decided to test his forward mobility by kicking to life the Jet engine on the back of the bike. He began to soar circles around the room, barely controlled as he turned rapidly to avoid striking any debris around the area.
After a short while of fly-testing his device, he set back down with a horrendous crashing noise as the wheels hit the ground hard, though neither the bike nor its driver seemed to take any damage from the impact. Stepping off the seat, the Warboss gave a toothy grin to the git who had asked the question.
"Yeah, I'z ken fly."
-
Timelines, planes, splits and anchors. Kitharsis, having no direct means to interact with the warp, can only conceptually follow what Mary is saying. Having never manipulated the warp with his own power, the intricacies of the warp are beyond his reach.
"So you can traverse backwards within a timeline, but cannot alter the events. A seemingly frustrating endeavor, the repercussions of which are beyond my reasoning."
Cameron approaches, pressing for time. He is correct in his haste, lingering here would be foolish. Mary volunteers to stay back and stand guard over the recall rune. A generous offer, but one Kitharsis cannot accept.
"I could not leave a direct gateway into my ship open without guarding it personally. Not discounting Mary's abilities, simply being cautious. Besides, you are well beyond the duties of a posted guard, Mary. If Danyael does not return by the time we depart, I will have to collapse the rune."
Cameron goes on to explain his plan for exiting this endless warehouse. The hole in the ceiling looks to be a long way up.
"Stupid question, but can everyone here fly?" Cameron asks.
Kitharsis frowns. Flight is not something that comes natural to him. With a sigh he thinks on the design for a pair of wings that he hasn't had a chance etch into his back. The recall rune is open right now, and all of his tattoo supplies are a quick hop away. But the time it will take to etch the tattoo far exceeds what is available right now.
It will have to wait.
The bone golem shifts behind him. It is malleable, capable of loosing its bones as weapons, but it doesn't appear to be capable of sustained flight. At least not in its current form.
"I need to borrow your bones. We'll be working a little more closely now."
The skull tattoo on his forearm flares into life as he reaches into the golem's chest. His arm sinks in up to his elbow, the bones closing in around him as quickly as they part. Bones begin flowing up his arm and over his shoulder. Kitharsis reaches out with his other arm and the bones begin flowing over it too.
The bones piece themselves together over his shoulder blades and begin extending outward. Jointed, bony appendages perch atop his back and stretch out into the skeleton frame of large wings. Thick, sturdy rib bones curve across his chest and waist to secure the wings to his body.
Kitharsis gives them a test flap, which picks his feet up off of the floor. As the large wings move you can see a faint membrane of crimson energy stretching between the bones to support his flight. A dry, hot wind kicks up from the massive wings, reminiscent of a gust of desert air.
The wings fold up neatly behind his back, the crimson energy fading from view.
Kitharsis nods to Cameron, "I can now."
-
He looked down curiously at the rune, smirking to himself over the cleverness of Kith's fellows. Kneeling to the level of the small mage pulling at his leg, he gives it a thoughtful, but awkward, rub over its skull, hoping it wouldn't result in the whole thing falling off. He walked to the rune, but stopped to notice his wound wasn't healing as quickly as it should. "..Cunt." he said his thoughts aloud when thinking of the man responsible for the whole thing, then turned, regained his composure and gave a rare smile to the the skeleton crew. "If he wants it, our friend will be a king in my nation. He deserves no less." He stepped closer to the rune, hearing the sounds of echoing voices that very well originated from the other side. "Much obliged." he said before stepping through. It was faster than he'd expected, as all of a sudden, before he knew it, he was there.
He first looked around, two of his more favored companions standing closest: Kith and Mary. He looked to see his wound was healing far slower than expected, which was an effect of having expending so much power and utilizing so many resources to fight off Soul Reaver. It was foolish and untactful, but he wasn't left with much choice in the matter. And with a gaping whole in his chest, given to him by his brooding frenemy, it was more of a concern than an embarrassment that such ill effects could last for so long. He would have to be far more careful with the powers he'd gained while in exile, no matter how tempting they would be. He covered the wound with his cloak away from anyone to see. He approached Kith, silently admiring the set of ethereal appendages adorning his back, then knelt to a knee in thanks to him. "I owe you much, brother." the bass of his voice reverent in gratitude, "More than I can repay in one lifetime. But you've my word that I'll see it done." Then, without skipping a beat, he stood tall. "Ready to move."
-
He watches Jharm as he nodded to what he had said.
"That is good to hear."
Sepher’s tired gaze turns to Kith as he approaches and Sepher listens as he speaks
"I believe you may be among more than a few warriors with darkness within them, Jharm. Although I'm not entirely sure what to make of whatever is aiding Gulgrim at this point..."
A small smile forms on his face. He nods to kith at that and was about to say something when he excuses himself. No matter, he just wanted out of this forsaken place.
Jharm continues though
"Yes...just about all have some sort of darkness within them. That is not the darkness that concerns me right now. The Eye, and those we face within it, has already demonstrated how debilitating and potentially controlling it can be towards some of us. The last thing we need is for a repeat of what we just faced. With that said though....you say that you have it under control and I shall believe you. Though...."
Sepher gave him a wry grin
“If it comes to losing control, put me down as fast as you can, though you’ll have to seal the souls away in me somehow . I don’t think it will come to that though.” He chuckled softly.
Sepher watched the others mill about, the Ork trying to find a trophy and ending up killing one of his boyz. He watches soul regrow his arm and the various conversations going on. He was ready for this to be done.
Finally Cameron waved them over, so sepher went to where he was standing, his scale armor softly rustling. He nods to Cameron as he asks everyone here can fly.
Taking a few steps back, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. A demonic energy seems to gather around him and bulges form in his back. Suddenly there is the sound of tearing flesh followed by the sound of splitting metal, and ear wrenching noise. From Sepher’s back, bursts a large pair of demonic wings that look like the could carry him very well.
He stretched them, then they folded along his back, the metal of his armor responding to his magic and forming around the base of the wings.
-
Cameron takes stock of the companions as they answer his question.
Soul Reaver is the first to respond. “I can cast a spell that will allow me to take flight. However, my stores of Mana are low - I do not know how long I would be able to sustain high-speed flight.”
Cameron nods in acknowledgement as Soul Reaver sits down and begins gathering mana. He then turns his attention to Jharm as he suggests possibly trying to carry some of the others.
“Hopefully, you won’t have to. But if the need arises, the help would be appreciated.”
Cameron nods again in acknowledgement as Jharm excuses himself to go commune with the light. His attention is immediately drawn to Gulgrim, who has produced an ork bike from nowhere. He admires the ork’s handiwork as he manages to rig propellers on to it in record time.
“I’m not going to ask where that came from or how you got it here so fast, but well done. Now Jharm doesn’t have to try and carry you.”
As Cameron marvels over the ork’s work, Mary watches as Kitharsis re-purposes his bone golem to fashion himself a pair of living wings. She grins as he signals to Cameron that he’s ready.
“That’s a pretty useful trick. Are you always that handy with bones?”
Someone chortles from behind Mary.
“Haha, that’s what SHE said-
Mary drives her elbow backwards into Karyl’s gut, sending him doubling over in pain.
“What was that?”
Karyl coughs and sputters.
“Ugh… nothing. Nothing at all. Can’t take a joke…”
Cameron has turned his attention back to the scene at this point.
“Knock it off, both of you. We have to get serious here.”
Cameron turns to Kitharsis again.
“Kitharsis, are you sure-”
Cameron is interrupted by the sudden appearance of Danyael through the rune. A look of relief washes over his face. There will now be no need to split up the group. They can all move on. He glances over at Mary and doesn’t fail to notice the smile that has lit up her face at the appearance of the Nephilim. He turns his gaze back to Danyael.
‘Welcome back. I hope you’re ready to move, cause we are out of time.”
Cameron takes one final look around, noting that Sepher has also sprouted wings and is ready to go. Cameron flashes a mental command to his armor, and his helm closes over his face. His electronically amplified voice rings out to the others.
“Okay, everyone. On me. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Cameron builds up energy and rockets into the sky. The other elementals quickly follow suit with the exception of Mary, who hangs back with Danyael. She examines him closely, looking for any signs of injury. Her voice fails to mask her concern.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I can get someone to heal you if you need it.”
Cameron continues to push himself skyward. Floor after floor of the warehouse pass by in a blur, and he catches the occasional glimpse of the contents: Power armor, weapons, tanks, food stores, cages filled with slaves, weird plants, idols, One room filled entirely with pillows, a room of mutant dogs, an opium den, the set of a weird looking game show… the list goes on. And still the hole seems to be getting no larger. Cameron knows that they’re going to have to push themselves to escape the reality bending that is occurring all around them.
“We have to go FASTER.”
Cameron pours everything he has into his flight. The rooms begin blurring by so fast that he can no longer make out their contents. He focuses everything on the hole above them. It finally starts to get closer…
And suddenly, Cameron shoots through the ceiling, through a hole cut straight through solid rock, and into the sky. He is out. His energy gives out and he arcs forward and slams into the ground, leaving a crater in his wake. Recovering, he looks up.
Before him lies the Spire of Chaos, in all of it’s horrible glory. They have finally arrived.
-
The Seraphim seems to remain in his trance as each Companion fashions some manner of flight, ending with the Nephilim returning once more. Jharm seems to pay none of this any heed as he remains almost motionless, the prayer slipping quietly from his hidden lips. It isn't until Camerons helmet raises and his electronically boosted voice booms out that the angellic being responds. Standing once more, his hammer slinging up onto his shoulder in one fluid motion he watches Cameron and most of the other elementals launch upwards. His gaze settles on Mary and Danyael for a moment, his glowing eyes easily noticing the concern on the Warp Elementals features. He pays it little heed though as he launches skyward, following after Cameron. Soaring upwards he focuses his power and his mind, pushing against the mind-twisting effects of his surroundings as he seeks to follow his friend ever higher, the Seraphims figure soon gleaming a white light until he finally reaches the hole soon after Cameron.
Bringing himself to a stop, he floats in the air for a few moments, his glowing figure an almost opposite to the horrifying and twisted appearance of the Spire. Landing down next to the "fallen" Elemental he extends a gauntleted hand, offering Cameron some assistance with rising to his feet as he glances up at the malevolent edifice they face.
"The Spire of Chaos....one can feel the pure evil radiating from within. It is strange....I swear I have seen similar architecture during assaults on Herzaz."
-
Gulgrim's bike is already in the air as Cameron takes off. Blasting upward on all cylinders, Gulgrim's hooting and hollering was somehow loud enough to be heard over the engine. He was keeping pace with the front runners at all times, and when he heard Cameron shout their need for increased speed, his grin took in his ears.
"Fastah!? I'z ken do dat!" Green lightning sparked from Gulgrim's eyes and danced over the bike's frame, and where it struck the bike was painted with a shiny new coat of red paint. Bewilderingly, the Bike seemed to increase its ludicrous speed even further with nothing more than the color shift.
"RED ONEZ GO FASTAH!!!" The Warboss bellowed at the top of his lungs as he shot through the hole in the ceiling. Pulling a strange loop in the air, Gulgrim brings the bike in for a landing near where Cameron had planted himself into the stone near the spire of chaos.
"Ten pointz fer Orky style, lad." Gulgrim said, leaning over the handlebars to look at Cameron. "So, where we'z 'eaded from 'ere? Inta dat tall spikey buildin', right?"
-
Soul Reaver sits in silence, his head bowed, until Danyael's return prompts a reaction. Reopening his red-hued iris, he looks up at the person he almost killed. His shoulders relax, and unusually for the normally stoic mask, Soul Reaver's face reveals genuine relief.
"My failures almost caused your death. Thank the fates that you still live."
He shakes his head.
"I doubt I will be able to restore your trust in me, but know that I will do my best to preserve the life I almost took today."
Soul Reaver then rises and looks over to where Cameron launches himself skyward, as Mary makes her way over to Danyael.
With a gesture and some murmured words, Soul Reaver is surrounded by faint motes of reddish light. His feet leave the ground as his flight spell takes hold. Looking skyward, he begins an ascent controlled by will alone, his arms at his side. He moves only slowly at first, but accelerates steadily, trying to keep pace with those above him.
His black cape flutters in the wind like raven wings as he travels ever faster. The motes of light grow brighter and brighter as Soul Reaver feeds ever more mana into the spell. Soon he is surrounded by a red glow, a blazing comet of scarlet magic streaming straight upwards, ignoring the bizarre worlds of Chaos that fly past it. Gulgrim's shouts and the roar of his engines manage to pierce even the din of the howling air and strange places he passes through.
Finally, with a sonic boom, he emerges from the underworld below, shooting up into the sky. Realizing he has cleared the labyrinth, Soul Reaver swiftly slows his ascent, the comet curving downward until Soul Reaver lands with a loud thud and a cloud of dust near Cameron.
The red glow fades almost immediately as Soul Reaver rises from his kneeling position and turns his eyes toward the Spire of Chaos.
Gulgrim, having already landed, asks Cameron where they are headed.
Soul Reaver feels no need to ask. The only sound he makes it that of Blooddrinker being drawn from its sheath.
-
The skeleton crew all give an excited wave in return as Danyael activates the rune. The tiny mage that came along with Danyael is still waving when another skeleton notices the portable recall rune that brought them here in the first place. It was put aside during all of the commotion earlier.
In another eruption of commotion, the skeletons grab the rune and chatter away at the tiny mage. It clutches the object to its chest as its tiny legs sprint toward the larger rune on the floor.
A larger skeleton warrior decides the little mage is taking too long, and punts it. The little mage careens toward the rune, disappearing in a flash as it crosses the threshold. The warrior shakes its head as the rest of the crew returns to their duties.
-----
The typically stoic warrior seems to almost blush as Karyl cracks his joke. Kitharsis tries to salvage the situation, but can't find the words to explain his power over bones without sounding off color.
Thankfully Cameron dissolves the situation and addresses Kitharsis. Before he can finish his inquiry, Danyael returns from the recall rune.
Kitharsis greets Danyael with a nod as he arrives. His friend's wound was not healed as much as it should be. Having gone through his skeleton's treatment himself before, he knows the extent of which their ritual can heal even the most grievous wounds. This is concerning.
Danyael gives his thanks, which is waved away. "No debt is owed, you would have done the same if our circumstances were reversed. It is good to see you standing again." Kitharsis pauses, looking pointedly at Danyael's chest. He puts stock in Danyael's better judgement, and does not ask after his health.
Mary does not hold back words of concern, asking if healing is desired.
"I have no more means of assistance, and I'm not sure how these wings will fare with such a flight." He grins. "If I do fall, I wouldn't suggest trying to catch me."
Kitharsis steps to the side and the wings unfold across his back. With a powerful flap, he rockets into the air. A dry, hot wind trails behind him as he ascends higher and higher with each flapping of his wings.
Cameron calls out that they have to go faster. Kitharsis grits his teeth. He wasn't expecting such an effort. The air below his wings shimmers from the heat distorting it. Flecks of bone and sand rain below him as he pushes his makeshift wings to their limit.
When he feels as though his wings will surely fail him, he breaches through the hole in the ceiling and is greeted by the open sky. Its all he can do to maintain a circling glide back to the ground nearby.
---
With little fanfare, the tiny skeleton mage pops through the recall rune. Carrying its momentum from the punt earlier, it sails through the air and lands at Danyael and Mary's feet. The recall rune carved into the floor distorts itself until it is unrecognizable before the glow fades away.
The tiny mage collects itself, clutching the porcelain rune to its chest. It surveys the area, realizing with a start that Kitharsis was nowhere to be found. Its head tilts back and almost unhinges as it stares at the hole in the ceiling.