The Eye of Terror: Battle of the Eidolon Wastelands (Part III)

[Daccio]

Sepher snarls as Abbadon aborbs the fire he had sent hurtling back at him, and he reaches his spear.

He hefted it just in time for his eyes to widen as a giant hand of swirling angry green flame to engulf him. He hardly had time to respond.

Quickly flinging out his right arm, another transformation begun, Demonic Transformation concentration. Sepher snarled in pain as a demonic soul is allowed to flush freely into his right arm. The arm quavered as it began to bulge, muscles rippled along the flesh as it grotesquely expanded in size.

Fragments of iron, steel and other metal were instantly attached to the new arm as he used his metal shaping to form a giant gauntlet on it in a matter of seconds. This was intensely painful for Sepher, using his transformation so fast, but times like this made it necessary.

As the giant green flame hand crushed down around him, his own would collide with it, a giant fist the size of Abbadon's talon itself. It would close with the flame and the stench of heating metal and burning flesh wafted around him as he growled aloud, fighting with the flames. He would put most of his focus into this, and trying to close his own fist around the flame to smother it.

[Danyael]

Perhaps the current situation wasn’t so unfortunate for the Nephilim Lord. Amidst the coming pain, it provided a moment for him to reflect. Perhaps he was approaching this battle all wrong. His mind reminded him of the Yamato, still sheathed at his side.

His eyes could see the energies that held the tendrils together. He could see them ebb and flow in wild miasmas invisible to all eyes save for his. He saw the currents and torrents washing around the tendrils, keeping the monstrosities in existence. And since he could depict energy, he could manipulate it. Centering himself into his chakra points, he opened himself to the raw energies, both those he produced and those that puppeteered the spell that sought to rend him apart. He felt the heating throb of Qi penetrate and bind itself around him, feeling out the strings of muscle as a spirit would feel out the smoothness of a new body.

The limbs of blood that attached him to the tendrils began to flatten and quiver, taking on the forms of tens of blades. The action was instant and the blades of blood tore the tendrils to ribbons, freeing him from his prison instantly, all the while his eyes locked entirely on Abbadon and nowhere else. No longer was this a matter of whose powers were larger, but rather who could overwhelm whom first.

He looked to the sky to note the warp energy holding the Eidolon Wastelands together, watching the true threads of energy make their way into existence. Noticing the invading forces still trying to enter his body, he willed the bad blood to purge itself from his body, purging the virulent forces with them. Adjusting his vibrations to that of the warp energies above, he started the process of pulling energy inward, like light to a black hole, letting it resonate and compact, folding over itself again and again until it was ready to explode. In a blip of speed, he vanished, only to appear directly in front of Abbadon and let the explosion howl free in full force.

[Faidth]

   Sepher’s gauntleted hand attempts to thwart the progress of Abbadon’s fiery green flame as it attempts to crush him. Sepher is ultimately successful in slowing the progress of Abbadon’s creation, however, it seems that the Chaos Lord has something different in mind.

    With Sepher still cradled in the palm of the flaming, green menace, Abbadon repeatedly smashes the hand upon the earth.

   Sepher sees the ground rushing towards him and is met with a jolt of pain as he is slammed into the unforgiving terrain again and again. If Sepher does not manage to fully liberate himself, it appears that Abbadon will attempt to bury him alive in the rocky depths of the Eidolon Wastes.

[Kitharsis]

His skeletons relinquish their vice-like grip on Abbadon as Kitharsis's warhammer connects and sends their adversary into the air.  They float in the air above Kitharsis and Soul Reaver, waiting for their master's next command.

But before Kitharsis can act the ground erupts with a mass of tendrils.  They quickly wrap themselves around Soul Reaver and himself before large shards of bone jut out and dig into their flesh.

Kitharsis's eyes widen as he realizes the severity of his situation.  His skin was unnaturally hard, preventing the majority of the bone shards to pierce through is flesh.  Yet this battle was long and it was taking its toll.  The burnt streak of skin across his back was weakened, and the shards crack and tear through it.  He tries to concentrate and contain his energy, but it fights against him at is chance for freedom.

Flashes of crimson Tirthandaran energy pulse out of his back.  It arcs through the air like splatters of blood, incinerating anything that it touches.

Thankfully, Danyael frees Soul Reaver and Kitharsis from the tendrils before any more damage can be done.  Kitharsis is able to gain control over himself and the blasts of energy stop coursing out of his back.  He quickly runs away from Abbadon and any of his companions, not wanting them to be caught in his destructive injuries.

His two skeletons fly to his back and place their hands on his wounds.  Their intense flames quickly char his skin and close the tears in his skin.  Kitharsis yells out in pain as his skin pulls itself together.  He lost more energy than he would have liked through the whole ordeal.  As his skeletons back away he takes stock of the situation.

Sepher was in a deal of trouble.  The green flaming hand was slamming him into the ground repeatedly. 

"Go!  Aid him."

Kitharsis's two skeletons take off in flaming streaks through the air and latch onto the green flaming hand.  Their sharp fingers and toes dig into hand as it clutches Sepher in its grasp.  Their crimson flames combat the green flames of the fist.  They pull at it, slicing through the construct and attempting to give Sepher a chance to free himself.

[Soul Reaver]

Soul Reaver feels a sense of intense satisfaction as Blooddrinker crashes into Abaddon, unleashing a punishing blast of power that slams the warlorld away like a lifeless doll.

But his victory is short-lived, as the ground beneath him ruptures open and coiling tendrils of dark power emerge from the earth.  Blooddrinker screams through the air and slices one of the tendrils in two, but already another has wrapped itself around Soul Reaver's ankle.  He is yanked from his feet, slamming hard into the ground.  That moment's disorientation given Abaddon all the time he needs: in the blinking of an eye, Soul Reaver finds himself restrained and hoisted helplessly into the air.

Veins bulge on Soul Reaver's biceps and neck as he fights against the inhumanly strong tendrils - quietly, slowly, he can hear their insides snapping and tearing.  But at the same time, vicious, venomous shards of bone start to grow outwards from the tendrils as if in response.  Those near his armour scrape against it, screeching loudly but harmlessly... but those that touch his skin push inexorably deeper.  He feels them sliding through his flesh, a burning agony pulsing from the wounds and growing ever stronger.

Blooddrinker vibrates in his hand.  The blade feels hot, like fresh gore.  It feels like salvation.

And then, in a flash, he feels his body wrenched through space, tearing free of the tendrils.  Unceremoniously he sprawls onto the ground, throwing dead grey dust into the air.  A streak of blood running from his scalp to his jaw, he looks up to see Danyael caught in the tendrils instead - Kitharsis was free nearby, but struggling to contain the energies roaring destructively from his wound.

Grunting with effort, Soul Reaver gets back onto his feet.  This battle was taking a heavy toll, and did not seem to be near finishing.  His regenerative powers were being pushed to the limit, rapidly attempting to purge the poison that the tendrils had pumped into his veins before his rescue.  His Strength and Berserk spells were dissipating.  Danyael had managed to free himself and was still battling Abaddon, but Sepher was being pummeled by the warlord and Kitharsis was only just recovering from his injuries.  Soul Reaver needed to do something decisive.

Soul Reaver's hand gripped Blooddrinker tightly.  The throbbing heat was still there.  Now he needed the Daemon Lord's strength, but he needed to be cautious... measured.  This place, this battle, the sword, they all threatened to upset the finely balanced scale of his control.  It teetered now on a razor's edge - he dared not fill it too much more.

Cold and hollow words drip form Soul Reaver's tongue as his eyes crackle with blackness.  The air around him shimmers with Daemonic energy.  The spellcasting seems to hollow out Soul Reaver from within, leeching his magic from his body... yet power pours freely from his cursed sword, filling that hollowness with fresh, hungry, burning light, racing like fire through Soul Reaver's bones.  He holds the blade parallel to the ground, his arm completely unmoving and still as the power coruscates over him.

Motes of red light begin to materialize in the air around Soul Reaver, floating up lazily around him and growing ever brighter.  His left hand seems to move independently, almost without thought, gracefully tracing a rune in the air, leaving behind a glowing white outline wherever it passes.

His preparations were almost complete... it was almost time to strike.

[Veldanya Venalla]

Though successful in landing a blow against the vile creature before him, Jharm's hammer is sent flying through the air and crashing into the ground a short distance away.  Jharm launches himself into the air and observes the battle.  After observing his allies being attacked by vile tendrils and now one being slammed mercilessly into the ground Jharm begins to chant a battle hymn.  The Seraphim's form begins to glow a bright white light until suddenly he stops and stretches his arms out to his side.  The healing spell washes over each of his companions slowly working to attempt to heal their wounds and strengthen their resolve.

Knowing that something must be done to aid Sepher in escaping from the massive hand, Jharm begins to channel another spell as spheres of light envelop his gauntleted hands.  As the spell reaches its end the angel brings his hands together, aiming directly at Abaddon as a massive beam of pure holy light soars directly at Abaddon. 

[Faidth]

   A shock of chaos energy rips through the ground and towards Faidth. Reflexively, she slams her fists into the ground, a hastily drawn together Atom Transfiguration her motivation. A sheet of rock, bone and metal forms before her and she kicks it with the toe of her boot, forcing it up in the air and into her awaiting hands. She lowers the shield towards the ground, and as the chaos energy slams into the constructed barrier.

   She pulls the Skeerya from her back and calls upon her growing dominion over fire. Flames erupt from her skin and travel down her arms, dancing over her fingertips, before lighting the Skeerya. She explodes forward in a flurry of motion, the bladed weapon rapidly flashing as she goes. Abbadon, hopefully with his attention focused elsewhere, should not be expecting the fiery Skeerya trained to connect with his exposed face.

[Faidth]

Abbadon effortlessly manages to block Faidth’s attack. As she moves to strike him with the Skeerya, the Chaos Lord simply raises Drach’yen and blocks the blow.

   “Pathetic,” he mutters, as if bored by the attempt.

    He swipes forward with the Talon of Horus. The lightning infused claw moves too quickly for Faidth to avoid and the blades slash across her stomach. Blood begins to pour from her wounded abdomen and Abbadon, satisfied that she would likely bleed to death, focuses his attention on more adept enemies.

   Luckily for Faidth, Jharm’s spell manages to heal the wounds of his companions, at least partially restoring their heavily abused bodies and strengthening their spirits.

   The angelic being aims a massive beam of holy light directly at Abbadon. With full force, it catches Abbadon directly in the chest, sending the Chaos Lord stumbling backwards, and nearly causing him to falter. His armor, heavily weakened, begins to buckle and crack under the force of Jharm’s blow.

   A dark, ebony liquid, begins to seep from his wounds and flow down his armor. As it collects in small puddles at his feet, the ground begins to sizzle and react, an unpleasant side-effect to the creature’s corrosive blood.

   Abbadon’s transparent, green wings begin to pulse with a grotesque green light and he launches himself into the air. He hurtles towards Jharm, the Talon of Horus stretched out before him. He lowers his shoulder as he nears the angelic being, and his spiked pauldron catches Jharm under the chin, snapping his head backwards and causing him to bleed heavily from the wound.

   However, before Abbadon can take any further action against Jharm, Danyael appears directly in front of Abbadon. Danyael, his body attuned to the warp energy that permeates through the Eidolon Wastes, unleashes an immense explosion against the Chaos Lord at point-blank range. 

   Abbadon’s eyes widen in surprise as the explosion mercilessly pounds his already heavily injured body. Unfortunately, the laughter that follows is not the reaction that one would expect when greeted with their imminent demise. Rather, the Chaos Lord grins at Danyael in wicked delight as he absorbs the energy into himself and his body rapidly begins to mend as he finds his powers exponentially renewed.

   Kitharsis, freshly liberated from Abbadon’s creation, quickly removes himself from the area as not to allow his powerful, Tirthandaran energy to unintentionally harm his companions. Seeing Sepher in trouble, he orders his skeletal minions to aid him. Flashes of brilliant crimson and sickly green vie to determine just who the superior, summoned creation is. It seems that Abbadon’s hand may very well get the upper hand, but Kith’s relentless inferiors are a force to be reckoned with. They finally manage to wrest the fingers of the flame, green hand open, thus allowing Sepher to escape.

   However, Abbadon, growing angrier by the minute, is not about to just let Sepher leave. The hand grows to frightening proportions. The ground begins to shake violently as the hand plunges deep into the craggy terrain. Moments later, the hand begins to emerge again, this time with something grasped within its eerie fingers.

   What emerges from the ground is a sight that practically defies description. It is a creature of horror incarnate, torn and reformed from the flesh of thousands, and filled with the unbridled hatred and spite of its master. When last the hand desists in its course of action, the being that stands before Sepher is several stories high with sharp, pointed teeth, and a gaping maw that drips a sickening combination of blood, pus, bile, and other unmentionable oozes best left forgotten. The fingers of its exaggeratedly long arms dangle at its knees and its legs are little more than mounds of blistered pustules.

   The creature lets out a ferocious growl as it locks eyes with Sepher. The pustules ooze and pop, sending rivulets of vomit-inducing liquid splattering across anyone unfortunate enough to be in the immediate area.

   Abbadon draws back his sword to strike out at Danyael and Jharm. However, he finds his attention drawn to the far end of the battlefield. He sees the motes of red light that collect around Soul Reaver’s form as the warrior traces a rune in the air.

   Abbadon realizes that if he does not act quickly, the battle may very well be lost. The entirety of his body is enveloped in a putrid, green light and a wash of sickness falls over all upon the field of battle as his command over chaos energy is further exemplified. He begins to mutter words in a long forgotten tongue under his breath, and each syllable that falls from his lips brings dread to all who hear them.

   Kitharsis, Danyael, and Soul Reaver find themselves teleported to the center of the battlefield. Abbadon’s sickly green wings periodically flap behind the Chaos Lord, allowing him to hover over the aforementioned companions. The slew of words that cross his cracked, bleeding lips, begin to grow louder until his speech reaches a crescendo and can be heard across the battlefield.

[Faidth]

   Abbadon’s ghastly, green wings flap behind him as he ascends higher into the air. He is enveloped in an aura of screaming specters, the faces of all those poor souls that were unfortunate enough to be squelched beneath his heavy hand. Each visage laments their own sorry existence in intonations formed of all the grief and agony their broken spirits can manage.

   The harbinger of chaos raises the Talon of Horus high above his head, and as he does so, the faces around him begin to whirl faster and faster, causing his silhouette to appear even more exaggerated and menacing than before. The Talon crackles with lightning and the purplish sky above seems to become more accented with blistering shades of red. Thin, ragged lines streak across the horizon, making it appear as if the sky itself is bleeding.

   Beneath the companions, the ground begins to quaver tumultuously, making it difficult to maintain one’s balance. The terra under their feet cracks and separates, allowing a wash of foul-smelling green air to escape the crevices. The scent itself is enough to cause anyone to question the stability of their stomachs.

   Abbadon’s sour note, still resonating across the battlefield, becomes amplified and continues its assault on the ears of anyone who can hear it. The longer his cry of hatred persists, the greater the danger of the terra becomes. The ground violently tosses and turns, instantly crumbling the few remaining pillars that have managed to survive upon the surface.

   A loud crack! can be heard in the middle of the battlefield, and a fissure tears into existence, then proceeds to widen rapidly. A gout of magma surges upward, nearly hitting the three, valiant companions who currently have Abbadon’s undivided attention.

   As the crack continues to grow, razor-sharp shards of obsidian begin to sprout from the perimeter of the fissure. These dangerous, pointed edges become as gnashing teeth, and there is a great and terrible sound from somewhere within the molten abyss below. It seems that this desecrated piece of dead planet has been forcefully reawakened, and twisted to Abbadon’s cruel devices.

   Danyael, Soul Reaver and Kitharsis find themselves precariously balanced upon unsteady bits of earth, and can be consumed by the gaping maw at any time. Abbadon stomps his boot upon the ground, and the unsteady bits of terrain beneath their feet lurch drastically to one side. If they cannot manage to effectively escape, they will find themselves consumed by the magma below.

[Faidth]

Faidth, still quite shaken from her injury, rises to her feet as Abbadon teleports several of her companions into the middle of the battlefield. She struggles to maintain her footing as the ground surges beneath her feet, tossing her violently to and fro.

   Her level of alarm and need for self-preservation both increase dramatically, as she notes Kitharsis balanced precariously upon a meager bit of earth, the ground separating below him. She has great regard for the Tirthandaran, who has pulled her out of harm’s way on more than one occasion. He had even once carried her weary form from danger when she had exhausted her power, and she desperately seeks some way to return the favor.

   Her heart thunders in her chest as her feet are spurred into motion. She explodes forward, barreling across the battlefield at breakneck speed, but she doubts she will be able to make it to him before he is tossed into a burning, liquid grave.

   Suddenly, it is as if time itself seizes her by the arm and yanks her through the remaining bit of space between herself and Kitharsis. She finds herself “pulled,” inadvertently teleported once again. Wasting no time, she seizes him roughly around the waist and gives in to whatever benevolent force is charting her movements. She laments that she did not have the time to aid Danyael or Soul Reaver, but having no control over these teleportations, she knows that she is lucky to have gotten at least one of them out of the way.

   Teleportation is a new and rather unpleasant experience for Faidth, and when she and Kitharsis find themselves behind Abbadon, but out of the range of the magma maw, the dizziness affects her immediately. The Fyrellian falls to her knees and takes a moment to catch her breath before taking stock of any elements around her that she might be able to use against Abbadon. Though Abbadon will surely notice the Tirthandaran has at least temporarily evaded his grasp, perhaps Kitharsis may be able to utilize this moment to assault Abbadon from behind.

[Veldanya Venalla]

As the dust settles from Jharm's massive form crash into the decrepit planet after Abaddon's violent counter-attack a glow can be seen.  It would seem Jharm managed to erect a shield around himself before the collision protecting him at least from suffering any further damage.  A groan of pain eminates from the holy being as his damaged helmet clatters to the ground, the enchanted metal not being able to withstand such a blow in tact.   Jharm can feel blood running down his face, the wound from the Chaos lord's attack draining him of strength every second.  Stumbling to his feet he begins to concentrate on at least sealing the wound. 

As a glow of white light begins to envelop Jharm and the wound begins to seal closed he is able to focus on the battle once again to see that 2 of his companions are now in mortal danger of being consumed by yet another horrific spell of the Despoiler's doing.  He also see's some horrific apparition..for lack of a better word...standing before Sepher.  Realizing that  he is the only one not actively either being assaulted or in grave danger he decides something must be done.

He gazes at Abaddon to see that he has once again healed himself by turning Danyael's attack against him.  Anger begins to flood the Seraphim, anger that this creature has time and time again avoided the death he so rightly deserves.  That this creature before them is responsible for the death's of millions and yet try as they might they can not seem to defeat him.  Anger that will no longer be held in check...

Jharm clenches his fists, his veins raising as he begins to focus all of his power, a chant echoing from his angellic lips as his entire body illuminates, spheres of white appearing around his hands once again.  Finally with a loud roar the angel launches into the air directly at Abaddon, aiming to collide with the horrific being and literally beat him into the ground with righteous fury.  As he nears him though Jharm has one final thought.

If I should die, let my death honor all those innocence this creature has slain.  Let my death aid in his downfall... once and for all.

It would seem the Seraphim is intent on bringing this battle...and Abaddon's reign of terror and genocide to an end even if it costs him every drop of blood in his angellic body.

[Soul Reaver]

As Soul Reaver draws the final strokes on the rune he is creating, Abaddon's chaotic powers wrench him through space once more, depositing him below the chaos warmaster.  Normally such teleportation would induce momentary nausia and disorientation, but Soul Reaver is so lost in concentration for his spellcasting that it does not even register to his senses.

The final stroke is made, and with a faint bass note, the rune glows brightly in front of Soul Reaver's hand, then fades away.  The same moment, Soul Reaver's senses return, and the ground beneath his feet cracks and ruptures.  Bursts of pestilental air jet from the cracks, making Soul Reaver gag and his eyes water, and his ears are assaulted by a cacaphonic thundering.  Next to him are Danyael and Kitharsis, all apparently caught in the same predicament.

A burst of molten lava hurtles into the air next to Soul Reaver, and in that same moment, Kitharsis seems to vanish into thin air.  Soul Reaver can see the faint wisps of Faidth's spiritual energy glimmering in the air where Kitharsis had stood - it seems she had intervened rescued him somehow.

But as Abaddon slams the ground hard, causing the earth to crumble further beneath his feet, Soul Reaver's thoughts return to his own present predicament.  Originally he had intended to teleport himself into position, but not only does his unsteady footing make any accurate teleportation difficult, but his close proximity to Abaddon meant there was little need.  Speaking words of magic, Soul Reaver casts a Levitation spell, small glimmers of sorcery removing the pull of gravity from his body and allowing him to fly.  His feet quickly leave the buckling ground and Soul Reaver soars several meters into the air.

In the distance, Soul Reaver feels a sudden flare of holy energy - the angelic Jharm, suffused with divine white energy, was hurtling towards Abaddon like a comet.  Soul Reaver saw his chance.  Thankfully Jharm's holy magics had helped neutralize the poison in his veins and replensish his flagging powers earlier, for he would need all the strength and precision he could muster for his attack.

Soul Reaver swoops aside in a lazy arc around Abaddon, intent on making way for Jharm and making it appear that he is attempting to withdraw.  However, at the widest point of his arc, Soul Reaver hurls Blooddrinker away from him.  The sword spins through the air, first away, then returning, rapidly gathering speed as it homes in on Abaddon.

Yet this, too, is a feint.  Soul Reaver is intent on keeping Abaddon from preventing his real attack.  Jharm's assault was imminent and Blooddrinker moments from impact.  The motes of crimson light around Soul Reaver grow ever brighter as his gauntleted right hand is raised in front of his face, ready to deflect any incoming attacks, and his left hand is pulled back to deliver a bone-crushing punch.  In the aftermath of the imminent strikes, Soul Reaver will hurl himself forward at the warmaster and concentrate all his efforts into landing that one, lightning-fast hammer blow.

[Danyael]

The healing of the Despoiler was unpleasant to behold. Damn bastard was so smug, cheating death at every turn. The more they pounded him, it seems, the more he’d bounce back. To say the situation was disheartening wouldn’t do this event justice. The whole circumstance was just one big fucked up mess of inconsistencies.

Danyael’s stance jostled only slightly by the sudden change in location, though the discomfort went unnoticed, the true expanse of his concerns being on the series of events that led up to this very moment. A whiph of energies caught his attentions and he watched as Kith was rescued by Faidth, allowing himself a temporary smile. Without physically speaking, his mind reached out to the young warrioress, presenting a slew of soft images that translated to a simple phrase: Thank you.

He looked once more to the sky, then to the ocean of magma far below. His breath was ragged. His skin was pale. He swore in silence at the folly of empowering Abbadon with an attack that was meant to deal him the felling strike. There would be no elaborate rituals or summoning of ancient demons this time around. His trump card was insultingly turned against him and he now had put his companions into even more danger than before he came. He then closed his eyes, lifted his head, outstretched his arms and resigned himself to his fate, leaning back and letting himself fall into the depths below where the torrents of magma consumed him, leaving nothing left.

[Cameron]

((This is a requested post for Fei. Please see my OOC for an explanation.))

Fei Serumen finally finished fighting off the tendrils of green flame that had beset him. Normally an attack like this wouldn't trouble him, but he has been finding his abyssal powers harder and harder to control due to the wasteland's proximity to the warp, and therefore to the void itself. Now, as he cuts through the last of the tendrils and they dissipate, he sees Abbadon threatening to crush his companions. He disregards their fate; they can take care of themselves. Instead, he focuses on the fact that Abbadon now has his back towards him and is directly behind him. A perfect opening.

In a blur faster then any eye can see, Fei launches himself at Abbadon's back. His intentions are to simply impale the Despoiler on his blades while he is distracted. But just as he is about to impact with Abbadon, his control over the Abyss slips again. Fei looks up in irritation as an envelope of darkness surrounds him. All warriors on the battlefield hear his final thought echoing in their mind.

"Fuck."

The envelope of darkness closes, and Fei's presence can no longer be detected anywhere. He is gone.

[Cameron]

As Danyael falls towards the molten rock, a flash of blue lights the area just below him. A crackling hiss fills the air as the superheated magma suddenly solidifies in a burst of intense, bone chilling cold. The rocky maw created by Abbadon to swallow up the companions freezes in place. Massive crystals of ice form over the structure, making it look more like a glacier.

Danyael is caught just before he smashes into the now solid magma. Garr, the lunar Elemental, sets him neatly on the frozen surface. Kari, the water Elemental, stands close by. She is winded from expending a large amount of energy. But her ice pulse did it's job and the Despoiler's attack has been foiled. Garr nods to the nephilim.

"This abomination has killed enough today. There will be no more."

Leaving Kari to recover, Garr leaps from the pit. He lands gracefully right next to where Karyl has finally recovered from being pounded into the ground. Seeing Garr, Karyl smiles.

"Hey bro, what kept you?"

Garr shakes his head.

"We searched for Cameron and Mary. Whatever their current location is, it is hidden to us."

Karyl frowns.

"Well, we can look for them later. I'm sure they're just peachy. Now how about we deal with this happy sack up here?"

Garr regards the Despoiler. With a twist of his arms, the Elemental's wrist blades spring out from where they are concealed under his armor.

"Capital idea. Why not assist me with leveling the playing field?"

Karyl grins again and extends his hand. Arcs of electricity spring from his fingers and light on Garr's blades. The enchanted weapons crackle with electrical force. Karyl nods.

"Light em up."

Garr leaps into the fray, intent on giving Abbadon something else to worry about. With Jharm coming in from the left and Blooddrinker to the right, Garr comes dead center. This leaves Abbadon's back exposed... a perfect target for Soul Reaver.

While all this is going on, Soul Reaver hears a familiar voice behind him.

"Master Reaver. Sorry we're late."

Soul Reaver suddenly feels a wave of psychic energy wash over him. His gauntlet, already pulled back to strike, is heavily augmented with a latticework of glowing blue runes. The power of his charged attack surges to even greater levels. Kalana breathes heavily behind him as she maintains the effect.

"Go. Hit him now."

[Kitharsis]

Jharm's healing spell seals the wounds on Kitharsis's back more firmly.  One less thing to worry about in this struggle for their lives.  His skeletons are able to do enough to wrest Sepher from the fist, but things take a turn for the worst as it emerges from the ground a towering nightmare.  The two glowing skeletons float behind Sepher, ready to help however possible. 

There is no time to help personally, as Abbadon speaks Kitharsis finds himself standing next to Danyael and Soul Reaver in the middle of the battlefield.  The ground cracks and rumbles beneath them, and the smell is nearly overpowering.  Magma bursts out of the fissure, and shards of obsidion jut out of the ground.

Without the power of flight Kitharsis finds himself at a great disadvantage.  He makes a mental note to create a new tattoo for it... If he ever gets out of this situation.

He franticly searches for anything he can stretch a tendril out to and pull himself away, but before he needs to act Faidth suddenly appears at his waist and wraps herself around him.

"Faidth!"  He exclaims.  But before he can utter another word He finds himself behind Abbadon with a dizzy Faidth falling to her knees.

She was just dazed, and already coming to her senses.  Knowing she can defend herself, Kitharsis whispers a "Thank you..." as he takes off towards Abbadon's back.

The tattoos on his arms flare to life as a multitude of crimson tendrils burst out of them.  They all end in wicked spikes and speed towards The Despoiler's back at breackneck speed.  His body may have been healed, but his armor was still in disrepair.  If the spiked tendrils connect they should be able to pierce through Abbadon's armor easily.  And the sheer number of them will make it very difficult to dodge.

[Danyael]

He felt the coming embrace of oblivion rush in a delight he'd not known since his return from exile. He felt the sudden rekindling of the shattered wastelands' life force spark vibrantly back to life. The fall to the magma, while viewed as dishonorable suicide, was in fact nothing more than a ruse. He would have let the magma consume him, only to feed off of the resurrected energies of the battleground, letting himself and the land be as one. He could feel the ecstasy of life sprout all around him. And in his mind's eye could he see himself being swallowed whole by the ocean of magma.

And then.... everything slowed down. His descent, uninitiated, maintained a balance he didn't intend. The sudden chill of cool temperatures snapped his attentions to widening his eyes, beholding the ocean of lava now an ocean of ice. Puzzled, he qwirked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes as if this would give him a better understanding of the slew of surprises that came to the fray. His eyes caught hold of the sudden influx of energies and he looked to see that the elementals had 'saved' his life.

Dammit... he swore to himself. Oh what a surprise it would have been for the land Abbadon awakened to suddenly turn against him. Atleast the elementals had the good graces to not let him crash unceremoniously into the ice. "You know, I wasn't really going to--" he was about to say before Garr suddenly darted off to Karyl. "--nevermind..." he resigned himself with an embarrassed sigh. This was the first time he physically spoke, and the meddler didn't care to listen.

Looking over the ice, his eyes honed in on its creator, leaping the full distance, landing gracefully beside her. Kneeling down, he comically realised he was still too tall to look her in the eyes. "Hi." he said, not bothering to notice that he still had no upper garments. A waft of slight of hand brought his everworld cloak back into the physical world, where he draped it over the water elemental. Forged with dimensional travel in mind, the cloak acted as a shield on many different fronts. So long as she wore it, no harm would come to her. "I kind of had a plan. But thanks for helping anyway." he knelt and lifted her in his arms before bounding out of the declivity, landing far away from the engagement. If Kari noticed, she would see there wasn't a scratch on him, hinting to his auto-reactionary healing factor. Setting her down tenderly, he kept close to her until she was ready to rejoin the battle at hand.

[Faidth]

   As the cavalry arrives, the tide of the battle rapidly crashes against Abbadon. Soul Reaver finds his powers augmented by Kalana. Garr, his weapons enchanted by Karyl, explodes forward, intent on striking Abbadon dead center. Meanwhile Jharm and Kitharsis intend upon making the Chaos Lord pay for his crimes.

       Kari, the Water Elemental, has exhausted much of her power, and regards Danyael gratefully as he removes her from harm's way. She is concerned for his well-being, given his recent close call, but feels much better when she notices that the majority of his wounds have already been healed.

   Abbadon watches as Blooddrinker careens towards him and he swipes out with Drach’yen to knock the blade away. The parry is successful, unfortunately, this was a fool’s folly, and perhaps, Abbadon’s biggest mistake of the day.

   He hears the sound of something rapidly accelerating towards him and turns to attempt to parry the hurtling Seraphim. However, Jharm’s convictions are far too powerful to allow him to fail in his pursuit, and his clenched fists, silhouetted by holy, white light, slam into Abbadon’s torso, knocking him off balance.

   Almost simultaneously, Kitharsis bursts forward, crimson tendrils billowing from his form. The deadly spikes that dot the end of the tendrils launch forward towards Abbadon’s back, embedding into his armor and ferociously ripping bits and pieces asunder. Shards of bone, metal, and other materials fly into the air as the spikes tear into Abbadon’s back, pauldrons, and even small areas of his sides and torso.

   The chinks in Abbadon’s armor have been exaggerated by the tendrils, and he finds himself quite exposed when Garr, his blades crackling with electricity slams his blade into Abbadon’s stomach. A burst of dark, evil smelling liquid seeps from the wounds, and Abbadon’s eyes blaze with fury. He raises Drach’yen high into the air, as he prepares to slash Garr into a bloody smear upon the battlefield.

   However, the collective use of distraction, and the force of unity that the companions have employed, make Abbadon ill-equipped to avoid Soul Reaver’s next attack, one that has been infinitely enriched by Kalana’s aid.

[Soul Reaver]

Soul Reaver hovers in mid-air for a few moments as Kari, Garr Kalana and Karyl join the fray and the companions all assault Abaddon.  He feels a surge of psychic energy suffuse his left gauntlet but his eyes remain firmly locked on the warmaster - timing was crucial.

To his relief, Abaddon react predictably to Blooddrinker, using his own blade to deflect the sword, sending it spinning out of control until it embeds itself, blade-first, in the rocky ground below.  But his reaction has left him exposed, and the companions unleash their combined fury on him.

It was time to do or die.  Soul Reaver hurls himself forward, his legs pushing off an invisible cushion of sorcery.  His hair whips his face, his eyes barely peeking over the top of his protectively-raised right forearm.  Before him, one by one, the companions' attacks hit home, sending Abaddon roaring in fury as chunks of armour fly from his body.

Soul Reaver speeds ahead, between the baleful green wings on Abaddon's back.  Soul Reaver sees how Abaddon, rage virtually boiling from his form, raises his Daemonblade high into the air, preparing to strike down Garr.

But his back was turned, and now, it was too late for him to react.

Soul Reaver throws his fist with all his might, smashing hard into Abaddon's back.  Kalana's runes activate and send out a crackling, rippling shockwave of psychic energy that surges through Abaddon.

It was indeed a mighty punch, delivered by a superhumanly strong being, augmented by Kalana's psychic powers, and with the whole kinetic force of Soul Reaver's flying form behind it.  The mighty impact sent out a loud echo across battlefield.

But the punch was not Soul Reaver's true attack.  It was merely a delivery mechanism.  A second after it strikes, a hollow, bass note can be heard thudding into place.  The white rune that Soul Reaver drew earlier flashes back into existence on Abaddon, then sinks into his form.  Abaddon was now cursed with a Seeker rune, and it would cost him dearly.

The motes of glowing light that previously had been floating lazily around Soul Reaver's body suddenly seem to snap to attention, zipping into position all around Soul Reaver's body and then freezing in space.  A sinister laugh builds in Soul Reaver's chest as the glow from these motes of light grows exponentially.  The tiny energy spheres vibrate in mid-air while a whining sound becomes audible, growing rapidly louder and more high-pitched.

Normally this dark spell would unleash beams of destructive energy in all directions, repeatedly firing in wide arcs around the caster and scorching through anything unfortunate enough to be in the way... but with the Seeker rune now in place, they would instead unerringly focus all their firepower on one single target: Abaddon.

At the moment that all the spheres are glowing as brightly as tiny stars, they simultaneously unleash beams of screaming crimson light at the Chaos warmaster. 

[Daccio]

The giant gauntleted hand of tainted metal and twisted flesh smelled putrid as the green flame burned hot into sephers skin. He had however, endured much more pain then this before, and would not allow himself to succumb to such an attack.

Sepher's demonic face twisted into a snarl as he clenched the demonic fist as tightly as the bulging muscles of the limb would allow, but to no avail. His bulky form is smashed into the ground, jolting his senses for a moment and just as he regained them, he hit the ground again.

He was struggling to get free just as Kith's skeletal minions showed up to begin to pry at the hand. It seemed like it was not going to help much but as more and more minions poured in, Sepher finally managed to wrench free of the grasp. Jerked himself away in a lurching motion, Sepher stumbled ad turned to face what was the giant hand, his spear of odd crimson like metal clenched tightly in his hand.

A wave of energy hit him... some peaceful, serene... he could feel energy and resolve seep back into him, he could feel his body becoming stronger once more as jharms spell washed over the companions. It was fortunate that it did... as for what Sepher saw next was going to be a force to be reckoned with.

Sepher, fortunately had backed off enough that he was not immediately going to be hit by puss, but this was going to be interesting. He had to do something... and do something fast. He leapt back, locking eyes with the beast as a flash of white light emanated from sephers body, blinding for only and instant and suddenly the man was standing before the several story creature. Nothing but a man, who looked so small and insignificant compared to the creature.

"I...have had..." Sepher panted.. this was a long battle "ENOUGH OF THIS!" Sepher finished in a snarl.

There is a loud sound.... a reverberation of sort as an explosion of dark energy exudes from Sepher’s being in a sphere of darkness. Everyone, the companions, Abbadon, the giant puss monster can feel a massive buildup of daemonic energy. Those who were sensitive to daemons would feel it more than others, but the sphere of darkness grew. It was pitch black, no one could see through it or what was in it. It stopped growing when it was nearly 2 stories tall.... and then a sound echoed for from the inside of the sphere.

A roar of nearly unmatched proportions, which seemed muted at first, suddenly shattered the air around them as the sphere of darkness exploded out like glass, shards flying in every direction until the dissolved. As the swirling mist of dark energies subsided.... a dark creature of terrifying visage.

The Great creatures eyeless sockets seem to suck in all light around it and its head swivels to meet that of the giant pustule creature before it. It's thick hide armor plating was layered thick and the spear that Sepher had carried... well the creatures claws were encased in the metal that had made its composition.

Once more it let out a loud earsplitting roar to announce its presence, and then everyone in the near vicinity can feel power being too well in its chest as it begins to draw on all things around it for a vicious attack.

(OOC - See OOC post for a picture and name)