Gulgrim's shoulders roll, popping and cracking from the strain of containing his power as he returns to his typical size.

Extending the Copper rod from his Cybork Arm, Gulgrim establishes communication with his forces across the battlefield and confirms their return to the fleet before looking to the others.

"So. Where'z da next fight? Dis wun was alright, but a little disappointin' fer 'ow big da foe wuz. Least me ladz got ta stretch dere legs, so 'least wasn't a total waste."

The warboss chuckles jovially, his previous malaise at the regular denial of combat seemingly forgotten in the aftermath of an at least acceptable scrap.

"If ye'z needz a ride, I'z sure me Krooza has da space fer all of ye dat needs it."

So, The Three-Edged Sword has drawn to a close.  I've opened "A Blade Resheathed" as our wind-down thread and as a place to post in-character, but while that is ongoing, I'd like to open this discussion on The Three-Edged Sword and what should come next.

First, my personal confession is that I was pretty consumed with work, life and another project during the "The Three-Edged Sword".  I feel I could have been more proactive in moving it forward, especially toward its closing stages.  On the other hand, I'm satisfied that we got through it without any disasters, and everyone stuck with it all the way through, which is great.

As for what should happen next:
- If you'd be keen to be a battle host and have an idea, please chime in and float your idea here!
- Personally I've had an idea in my head for years now for another plot, but if I were to host next I probably would instead try to conclude Jihon's unfinished "Salt in the Wound" storyline. I'm not 100% sure if I'm genuinely 'enthusiastic' about it though - it feels more like something that I should do.  It would be a big challenge: I'm not the original battle host, very little of his intended plan for it remains available, and I myself would have to refresh my memory on it... not to mention the difficulty of trying to continue it in an appropriate style that at least somewhat recalls Jihon's own.

But this is all reliant on people wanting to keep going, of course.  So let me know if you're keen to continue, and what you want to see next.

Another thought I can't shake is that if we're keen to continue, we likely will need to consider recruiting new members.  I feel that our current active user count is only barely enough to sustain the Epic board battles.  I don't have any brilliant ideas of how to do this, but could give an active recruitment drive a try.

The Three Edged Sword has come to an end, and it's time to vote for a Champion.
The Champion isn't the 'best' or 'most powerful' character - rather, they're someone who you think deserves the title because what they brought to the story was great, interesting or otherwise awesome.

-One vote per person.
-You cannot vote for yourself.
-You have to have participated in half of the Epic Board Battle to be eligible
-Only currently active members are eligible
-The Battle Host reserves the right to vote last. Therefore, in case of a tie, Veldanya would have the tiebreaker.  If the Battle Host does not vote for a tiebreaker, The Administrator will do so instead.

The following people are not eligible for this award, even though they participated in the whole thread:

Veldanya Venalla (Battle Host)

To cast your vote, post a reply stating who you want to vote for and why you think they deserve this award and vote for them in the poll above.

Let the voting commence!

Jharm and Dervagon descend from above, landing on the platform.

"My friends, what...

The Seraphims gaze comes to rest on the glowing ebony wings that seem to have sprouted from the back of Velgeim.

"Vee...your back..."

The woman seems oblivious to the comment for a moment, as if deep in thought, before looking back over her shoulder at the wings.

"Oh...huh..."

She seems to roll her shoulders slightly before the wings simply seem to disintegrate away.  At the same time she reaches into her coat, pulling out her pack of cigarettes, slipping one between her lips before lighting the tip with a snap of her fingers.

"What happened here?  How did you...how did you defeat both of them?"

Vee takes a long pull on the cigarette, pausing for a moment before exhaling in a thick cloud of smoke.

"Hmmm...where to start.  I suppose the simple answer is that after your gods basically used me as their own little vessel to carry them around, it left a....mark on me.  Changed me in a way I suppose you could say.  Seems it connected me to these pools of power, and once the wards within were shattered, my people were finally able to get the justice they deserved."

Dervagon finally speaks up, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Your people?  How did..."

Vee lets out another long trail of smoke before interrupting the Shaiton.

"Light managed to flee from this prison you reside in, Darkness sent a part of him after to try and follow and defeat her wherever she fled.  Well, where she "fled" to was my home.  Once a planet full of life and hope...now practically a hellscape of death and destruction because of them."

The Seraphim and Shaiton look at each other for a moment before Jharm speaks

"Vee, I'm not sure what to say.  I--"

Velgeim finishes the cigarette, tossing the butt off to the side, though it burns up into nothing before reaching the ground.

"Nothing.  There is nothing you can really say, it wouldnt change a thing anyways.  Besides that, ya'll were basically just pawns to them.  Once a unified force then split and turned against each other.

Jharm and Dervagon look at each other, bewilderment clear on their faces as Velgeims eyes shift between them.

"Yes, there was no Seraph or Shaiton but a single unified race.  Split apart when the two began their....disagreement, and they warped your minds and senses to make it easier to turn you against each other.  You were first used as agents to spread your respective gods "ideal" method but then the creators of this universe sealed you all away thus you became foot soldiers for them to send against each other in their endless "war".

"Eons fighting...for nothing really."

"Basically....yep.  They were to maintain the Balance but forgot about that with their disagreement of how, leading eventually to the almost destruction of my world...which led to their own destruction poignantly enough."

Jharm and Dervagon exchange looks once more.

"It would seem there is much our people must discuss."

The Seraphim then looks over at the Companions.

"With that in mind...I think my time fighting alongside you all is at an end, at least for the time being.  I cant leave my people, or the Shaiton, while not only our future but the true mission of our creators is uncertain.

As Jharm is speaking, the roar of engines is heard as the Aisgeim lands on the large platform short distance away from the group.  Vee pulls out another cigarette and lights it up as she speaks.

"Well, while it sounds like I may now be able to reverse some of the harm done to my world thanks to this..."connection" I now have, my mission is finally complete after so many years.  Something tells me my world isnt the only one out there that has been affected by the meddling of powerful beings."

She then looks over at the Aisgeim as she speaks.

"Whatcha think?  Sounds good?"

After a moment she seems to smile as she takes another drag on her cigarette, though no audible response is heard.

Gulgrim continues to pummel the space Darkness had been long after his collapse until the reaching voice from the battlefield distracts him from his combat reverie.

"Huh? Aye, I s'poze we've 'ad a gud bit o' fun. Time ta get me boyz gathered up fer da next one." As the warboss spoke, he bled size like steam, green energy venting off of him as he reduced in scale back to the more traditionally massive Warboss the companions were more used to encountering rather than the colossal titan that was closer to his true size. As he returned to his 'normal' state, he held up his Cybork arm and extended the copper rod from its wrist, using it to form a link through the various battlefield interferences to his Kroozas and their commanding Nobs overseeing the battlefield.

"Gather up da ladz, boyz. Dis fight's done wiv. Time ta get ready fer da next one." The Warboss's command is absolute, and when the Orks see that the fight has gone out of their prey, they, with some reluctance, cease their assault and prepare for their next grand combat. Some take desultory parting shots at anything that may deign to fight back, but once it becomes clear there is no more sport to be had, the Orks begin to return to their transports and prepare to move on to the next battlefield.

With the command given, the Avatar of Gork and Mork rolled his shoulders, cartilagenous popping noises cracking out as his body strained to compress itself back to his usual size. "Feh. You ladz need ta work on yer enemies. Dese gits was 'ardly worth the effort. But at least me ladz got ta stretch dere legs." Popping his neck like one might after a light exercise, the Warboss turned to face the rest of the Companions.

"So. Wot's next den?"