A Dream of Quiet (IC)

[Drascin]

Inertia makes Drake go right through where the guy was, and he has to spin on himself to come face to face with him again, with his best petulant smile on - and he's spent a long time practicing it, so it's a very good one. "An interesting question, that. Depends on who you ask, really, because far as I know people are still working on the theory of how it works. But I if you're looking for a class on motic theory..."

Come on, Pyrus, he's distracted, now's your chance to ice this ****er, I don't know how long I'll be able to keep him looking at me before he goes invisible again...

[Rhyvurg]

Pyrus uses a ghost as a stepping stone to vault to the ceiling, planting his feet before jumping straight down, lance leading, fire trailing in his wake as he unleashes the most dangerous attack he can muster.

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9 motes on First Martial Arts Excellency
1 mote on Concordant Dragon Claw (ignore hardness, +4 post-soak damage)
2 motes on Force-Blow (doubles raw damage, not counting successes. If raw damage is greater than target's Stamina+Resistance, target must roll S+R vs user's Essence [4] to avoid unconciousness)

(24d10)[3][7][5][1][7][5][3][5][3][3][8][4][3][7][4][9][6][5][8][1][8][3][6][4](118)

[Recaiden]

The lance, with Pyrus behind it, shoots down from the top of the control room. It passes through the man like he wasn't even there. He's not, vanished in a cloud of smoke, he reappears over by the controls, trembling. The spear hits the ground, and the floor cracks open. The flames trailing after hit, and the ground in front of Pyrus caves in, and the next floor down cracks as well.

The mark on the foe's forehead is streaming blood, but of more note is the essence fire. It blazes out to fill the room, and then the traces of flame separate into shapes. The glowstones around the room dim. The flames resolve themselves into birds of all shapes and sizes, darting in towards him and tearing at the man before rejoining the swirling flock. The man starts to scream, although you can see that the birds aren't actually touching him, they're just an anima banner. He falls back against the controls, in no condition to fight. The ship starts to tilt to the port side as he hits a thruster control.

The zombies circling Wing turn away from them and fall to the floor, kneeling towards the man.

Masque starts yelling.

and then remembers to speak something others can understand. "That can't be happening. That's impossible." Though she clearly said a lot more than that, speaking as fast as she was.

[Drascin]

"...holy what, is his own anima attacking him? That's messed up." Drake is left rather aghast. A second ago he was ready to stab the man through the neck if he could to save their own lives, but something like that rather takes the aggression out of one for a moment.

And then Masque speaks. "What? What's impossible? Little explanation would help!"

[Recaiden]

"I-i-i'm sorry. do whatever you-augh! ever want to with the ship."

"That caste mark...he's a Day, but I can only see him with my eyes, not with my heart. Every incarnate Abyssal is connected to the Neverborn through their exaltation...except this one." Masque is plainly horrified. She nods slowly, in regard to the observation about the anima. A thoughtful expression goes over her face.
"The anima. Yes, it is not unheard of when deathknights have angered...the Neverborn."

---

1

The glowstones fail, and the room is plunged into darkness. The man's shouts stop, though the spectral cries of carrion and predator birds do not.
The only source of light is Drake's anima, and now, as they rise back up, the glowing green eyes of the zombies.

The man speaks in a low, strange voice. You almost can't hear his words.
"Do not worry, Masque of Ivory Flowers. We did not know him, but he is still ours." And then again in the panicked tone of a moment ago, screaming at Drake and Pyrus.
"Who just-? What's happening? What did you do to me?"
"Forget your old orders, children of Dari. Kill them all."
A pair of red flames appear where he was, burning in his eye sockets.

The undead outside howl, and the door creaks as they throw themselves at it. Masque raises a hand, and her scythe appears in a flash of white light.

The spirit possessing Dancer was less vulnerable to the flare of Void energy, and rallies the two other zombies to turn and strike as planned. The lack of light seems to hold them back a little, but not as much as it should. He leads the way with a viscous claw strike, and the ridden zombies follow in with quick slashes from claws and knives.

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(5d10)[6][8][7][2][8](31)
Masque activates some Charms.

Boss Fight, Stage 2!

[Drascin]

"...okay, Masque, please tell me that's not a Neverborn posession, just so I can discard the absolute worst-case scenario here" Drake takes a step back, looking at the Abyssal who is nominally in their side with a cryptic look. She still says she is loyal to the Neverborn still, after all.

[Recaiden]

"I would love to tell you so, but it would be a lie." Masque sighs. You can just barely see that the man is smiling.
"Perhaps you would be inclined to just give the boy his body back? I have this situation under control." She waits for a second, clearly listening to something.
"No I didn't think so."

[Tavar]

The flaw Dancer hoped to exploit with his combined assault vanishes, the holes in Wing's defenses filled with a soft silver glow that the attack simply glides off.

The undead are similarly impeded, not by Wing's magic, but by spinning sections of the staff. Wing uses them as shields for the most part, interposing the spinning surface between himself and his attackers, though when one arm almost gets around he simply swings the section into the arm, allowing the force of the section to knock the arm aside.

And after the enemies' attacks, it is time for Wing to counter. Ignoring the zombies, he hooks a leg around Dancer's, immobilizing him for a second. But that's all he really needs, as he was already bringing his staff around, spinning section angled for Dancer's vulnerable throat.

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Attack on Dancer: (17d10)[3][7][6][1][4][6][10][7][5][3][3][2][1][5][9][9][10](91)(+3 dice from Aim action, +4 from first Dex excellency).

Damage is 11 at base. It is Bashing vs Dancer, Aggravating vs the ghost.

Activating Golden Tiger Stance vs Dancer's attack, and I'll be hoping for at least a one die stunt vs the first undead attack.

I am at the 11 mote anima level.

Soak:
3L/6B
Health:
-0 [ ]
-1 [ ][ ][ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
-X [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ]

Social Defenses:
Dodge MDV6
Parry MDV 3

Permanent: ●●●
Personal: 11/19 (0 Committed)
Peripheral: 25/40 (4 Committed)

[Drascin]

"Of course it would" Drake sighs at Masque's response, still splitting his attention between the possessed abyssal and the unpossessed but previously pretty damn crazy one. "So, two teammates possessed, including one of our two best fighters, a hundred killer zombies just outside the door, and a deathknight possessed personally by the freaking awakened Neverborn as additional **** you boss." And the loyalties of one of his supposed remaining teammates in a fair bit of suspicion, but best not to mention that to outloud.

But the real problem here is Dancer. Right now the enemy has control of half of the real fighters of the group, in addition to an already overwhelming superiority in numbers and a freaking neverborn possession. They need to manage to get Wing's salt staff across Dancer's face to have even a prayer here. He looks at Wing.

"Trade you enemies! I want to see if these things work. <Please don't go very far and cover me>" he says, stepping a bit back and turning to ghost/Dancer. "Well," he walks up with a confident grin, brushing a finger against the wood wall and crimson threads coing out and curling around his hand, playing off the fact that this attack had sent a Deathknight into panic not a minute earlier to make the ghost nervous "I was told that these things could tear Underworld creatures apart into component motes with a touch. <Wing, Pyrus, I'm going to try to distract him into lowering his defense>. Of course I'm pretty sure Dancer there could break me in a single hit, too <Wait for him to retaliate, protect me, and then we'll go for a simultaneous assault to get Wing's staff an opening>" The English bits are said absently, as if he was praying - and then when he finishes, the smirk turns into a full on crazy "**** it, if I'm going to die at least I'm taking these with me" grin, and he takes a half-crouched stance. "Well, I've made peace with my gods, and I trust my luck. Now, you can leave Dancer and run away, or we can play roulette. Do you feel lucky?"

And with that, he simply lunges, feinting to the left before attacking to the right with the Battles fates hissing for blood around his fist.

"<Ready on five!>"

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So, what I'm doing here is a flurry of two actions. First, one attack as normal, using Unobstructed Blow for 4 personal motes as both a bluff and a way to make sure it really looks like the attack can hit.

(11d10)[9][5][4][9][6][10][7][1][2][7][6](66) (Damage 11/2, as usual)


And then I'm coordinating an attack with Pyrus, Wing, and myself, which will take place on tick 19.

(10d10)[1][4][8][10][3][8][1][1][2][2](40) (Difficulty base 1 because Throne Shadow) (Enough successes to give it the maximum penalty of -3DV)

DDV 3
PDV 3
Remaining motes: 6/15 Personal, 20/38 Peripheral)

[Scarlet Dragon]

Dancer elects to parry the staff with a fist.

After seeing his master's reaction to Drake's previous attack Dancer ghost throws up a bone shielded arm to block the attack, shattering the shield but protecting him. Shaking the bone fragments free from his arm "You'll have to do better than that to hurt me." the ghost inside gloats.

[Recaiden]

"You should know better, Sidereal. It is written in the stars that the living shall not triumph over the Neverborn."
Masque yells at the possessed man, slashing the air in front of her threateningly.

"Of course you're going to kill them. You were not Chosen to protect the living."
"I am to protect His worlds. Go back to your tomb!"
"You are not nearly as important as you think you are. Do you think you matter any more to him than the nephwracks, or the little Adrían-shell? Be a good girl and kill them."
Masque lifts back her scythe and runs towards the Conduit. On the last step before her strike, there is a flash of dark around her, and she hits the floor, her right leg a mangled wreck.
"Now, I don't like having to hurt you." I'm sure that the thing is totally sincere.
"He doesn't always know what's best. Nor do you know your own will. I do." Masque twists around and snaps a kick at the man with her good leg. An arc of pure white essence follows her strike up and bursts against him. He barely gets out of the way. He's so fast!

The man himself rushes for the door. May as well let the other dead in on the fun. He tries to unlock it and pull it open against any resistance.

The zombie that had never fought Drake draws back a bit, unsteady. "Boss? What are you saying? We're no spectres. Let Oblivion fight its own battles."

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Masque suffers a serious Stigmata effect. Fortunately, she should be able to recover from it quickly.
Then attacks:
(13d10)[3][10][6][4][9][5][7][8][10][4][3][6][6](81)

The possessed man will try to open the door. People trying to interrupt him (before his next action) will give penalties or abort the action entirely (7d10)[1][7][5][7][2][3][3](28)

One zombie goes Inactive on moral grounds.

[Rhyvurg]

Pyrus leaps up through the hole he made in the floor, his anima brightening the room. "Are we still not just killing this thing?" He runs for the door to keep the other ghosts out.

[Recaiden]

"If you even knock it out, she'll be banished. But killing it is -augh!- also fine."

The other zombie is less hesitant, and follows orders immediately. It lurches and shambles about and then lunges towards Drake, knife extended in a clumsy but impossible fast attack.
(8d10)[5][9][3][2][9][2][10][10](50)

The conflicted zombie...twitches.

[Tavar]

Staff ends spinning, Wing uses a central section to push the incoming fist off course, pivoting as he does so.

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Man, you know the worst thing about 7 section staves? They're pretty much impossible to describe in a believable manner.

2 motes on first Excellency(2d10)[5][5](10) vs attack.
DV is base of 7.
Aim Action to get 2 more dice.

Wielding an Exceptional Seven Section Staff(hit incorporeal, agg to ghosts)
Sp 5, acc -1 , Damage 8b, Defense +4, rate 2

Dodge DV 4 dice
Parry DV 6(8-2 for Charm)

-0 [ ]
-1 [ ][ ][ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
-X [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ]

Social Defenses:
Dodge MDV6
Parry MDV 3

Permanent: ●●●
Personal: 11/19 (0 Committed)
Peripheral: 25/40 (4 Committed)

[Recaiden]

The possessed Lunar hooks his clawed hand in as he sees his opponent pivot, sweeping over the swinging staff to cut deep into Wing. A strong attack that could have killed a weak man ((like, say an extra)), but it does leave the ghost wide open.

[Drascin]

Drake tries to step back to avoid the knife, but it finds its way straight to his ribs!

...only to be stopped by the lamellar under his clothes. But the blow is strong, and the Sidereal recoils. "Urgh..." I... think that wasn't a rib. Thank god. The longer this fight goes, the bigger chance everything is going to hell. They have to knock Dancer out quickly so they can focus on the Neverdude.

So Drake is going to step to the side, kick a nearby piece of machinery into the zombie to distract it, and jump at Ghost/Dancer. "<Pyrus, Wing! Now!>" he calls out to the others, hitting Dancer's arms upwards to open his guard up before joining his gauntlets and descending an improvised fist hammer right on the top of his skull and immediately following with an ascending reversal to the chin.

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Triggering that Coordinated attack and then flurrying two attacks of my own. Dancer's DV takes a hit of 3, putting him at about 4 base IIRC, plus the flurry penalties. Then it's Pyrus and then Onyx.

(11d10)[10][4][4][4][10][8][9][10][4][10][6](79)
(10d10)[10][5][7][9][6][8][10][4][10][4](73)

Both attacks at the usual 11B/2 damage, which I have no doubt will be just minimum damage because Dancer is built like a tank .

DDV 5
PDV 5
Remaining motes: 6/15 Personal, 20/38 Peripheral)

[Tavar]

Reeling from the blow, Wing grimaces, and the silver light spilling from his body doubles, forming the now familiar snake, obscuring his body in light and shadows. Unable to extend upwards, it shifts from side to side, waiting for a chance to strike.

At Drake's call, it does, lashing forward. It aims high, going for Dancer's chest, fangs of light seemingly glistening with poisonous shadow.

But it is only light, in the end. The real danger comes below, hidden by the beat's great light. Wing's staff, whipped around with all the force he can muster. A middle section should hit his right left first from the side, and then curl around, hitting his other leg in the back of the knee. It might not bring the mad man down, but it might give the others the opening they need.

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Dice: 5MA+5Dex+1SF+2Spe+2Aim-2(1 wound, 1 acc)=12
+3 excellency 15 dice (15d10)[6][4][5][2][6][9][8][10][1][2][9][2][5][2][7](78)
Not sure about the penalty on Dancer's DV.
Wielding an Exceptional Seven Section Staff(hit incorporeal, agg to ghosts)
Sp 5, acc -1 , Damage 8b, Defense +4, rate 2

I am at full Anima level.
Dodge DV 4 dice
Parry DV 7(8-1)
3 levels of Lethal damage(I think I'm using the right symbol)
-0 [ /]
-1 [/ ][/ ][ ][ ]
-2 [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ]
-4 [ ]
-X [ ][ ][ ][ ][ ]

Social Defenses:
Dodge MDV6
Parry MDV 3

Permanent: ●●●
Personal: 11/19 (0 Committed)
Peripheral: 24/40 (4 Committed)

[Rhyvurg]

Pyrus groans and attacks again, spinning the butt of his spear in the palm of his hand before launching it like a jade drill, trailing essence behind it.

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Let's try this again.
Dragon Claw, ignore hardness and add Essence to POST-soak damage roll:
(4d10)[3][1][5][3](12)
Force-Blow, doubles base damage and if raw damage is greater than target's Stamina+Resistance, they must make a S+R roll to avoid getting knocked out.
First Martial Arts Excellency, adding 9 dice, plus 1 for a stunt.
(22d10)[9][3][7][4][6][2][1][2][1][1][6][6][9][2][3][9][10][1][3][1][8][8](102)
30 damage dice, not counting successes or Claw dice.

[Recaiden]

The zombie hops over the gears kicked its way easily, but it's slowed down enough to stop it from doing anything important. Then it charges in, not striking, but ready to protect the Conduit.

Dancer's arms go flying back, his head goes up, cracks down. The snake of light strikes him in the heart, and the swirling staff smashes into his legs to sweep him of his feet. Armor plates crack, skin breaks open, blood flows. And Dancer stands back up with a grin. Then a spear catches him in the side, and sends him flying and crashing into the ground. His eyes are closed, and he is completely still.

Masque flips herself up and follows the piece of machinery in an off-balance lunge at the zombie, striking at it with the edge of an essence-charged palm.

Dark flames flare up around him, and the possessed man speaks. His words cannot be represented, even in the nightmare language of the Neverborn. You have no idea what he meant, but even hearing the sound makes your mind recoil in horror. The existence of these words breaks the concepts of language and reason, and you wind it hard to form words, or even thought, in the wake of hearing it.

While you're recovering from the attack, he is vanishing from his current position and moving in a rush of darkness to behind Drake, to catch him and drag him to the ground.

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Everyone within hearing distance is subject to Unnatural Mental Influence if the following roll beats their MDV. (16d10)[2][8][7][9][3][1][3][7][9][5][3][2][2][2][8][2](73)
Effects are to prohibit speaking, reading, signing, or any form of communication whatsoever until 3 willpower has been spent.

Then Drake is subject to a Clinch attack: (8d10)[1][1][8][4][1][4][8][10](37)

Masque possibly hits a zombie: (13d10)[3][3][10][6][5][6][8][7][3][5][5][6][6](73) -2

[Tavar]

A quick step, and instead of almost able to manhandle the Sidereal the possessed man must instead dodge the whip-like staff arcing toward his throat.

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Pretty sure that attack at best would bounce off my reflexive defend other(Drake has that Shadow Style charm active, right?)

straight attack at the moment.(11d10)[7][3][8][9][8][4][10][1][9][1][9](69)

[Drascin]

(Indeed. And since I go after you, I'll leave my post here)

Drake backsteps when he's attacked, letting the hand making a grab for him fall just slightly short for enough of an instant that Onyx comes to his aid.

Then the yell hits. But instead of horrifying him, the words just put Drake more on edge, which being he's already marinating in adrenaline and half-convinced they're all going to die, is enough for him to start losing his cool. "Shut UP and go away, you impotent primordial ****WIT!" And drake is going to punctuate that by grabbing two pieces of debris, one in each hand, both of them crisscrossed with red threads soon as he picks them up, and bringing them together right on the Not-Neverborn's head. He wants to try to get this deathknight alive if it's at all possible, but that doesn't necessarily mean "with all teeth in place" at the moment!

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Going to take the -1 penalty to attack to turn my damage bashing again as per the Core, because right now hitting normally would deal Aggravated, and it'd run too much risk of killing the dude horribly if he rolls badly - and Compassion 5 is what it is.

Unobstructed Blow'ing both of them by spending 8 personal motes, since the stunts before gave me some back.

(10d10)[3][9][4][4][4][2][9][6][7][10](58)
(9d10)[10][8][2][10][7][6][6][5][7](61)

Both of them at 11B/2, as per usual.

DDV 4
PDV 4
Remaining motes: 4/15 Personal, 20/38 Peripheral)

[Rhyvurg]

Not wanting to actually kill him, Purus decides to soften his approach. He charges, spear held high as if he means to pole vault, then stabs it into the deck. Spinning around the planted shaft, he braces his feet against the spear and uses it to catapult himself at Masque.

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Here we go again...
(19d10)[6][1][5][2][10][6][7][2][7][3][6][8][7][10][5][4][4][10][6](109) Unarmed attack, First Excellency + Force-Blow (if raw damage greater than target's Stamina+Resistance must roll vs 4 to avoid unconsciousness)

[Recaiden]

Pyrus flies towards the man, and finds that he's no longer there to offer any resistance to his leap. In a rush of shadows, he has stepped just out of the Dragonblood's path, and is now lunging out to grab Pyrus as he passes and throw him to the ground. He then dives towards him, his teeth lengthening into long fangs.

The helpful zombie stops helping with the door. It seems to have trouble moving. Perhaps losing control of its stolen body somehow. The more dangerous zombie, now that Pyrus is out of the way, sprints for the door to throw it open.

Masque rises up, balancing carefully, with a faint white light around all of her.

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Foe-Shaming-Counter (14d10)[5][2][8][10][1][2][9][6][8][4][10][9][8][5](87) deals no damage but knocks you Prone.
And a lot of dice on a clinch attempt. (16d10)[3][3][8][3][8][1][3][5][6][9][7][7][5][7][8][3](86)

Masque activates a charm.

The zombies are repectively dealing with things you can't see and trying to open the door.

[Leliel]

"Fine. I gave you more than fair warning..."

The possessing nemissary directs the corrupted Tendrils to the door and grabs them with chitinous claws, giving them a firm yank.

"Remember kids, boss wants them alive. Kill them, and it won't be him who's the first guy on your rotted asses."

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At this point, I just want the damn fight to be over already, so I'm releasing the zombies. Clinching the doors.

Tendril A: (9d10)[2][6][7][7][4][9][9][9][4](57)

Tendril B: (8d10)[6][10][4][2][9][4][9][7](51)

Tendril C: (7d10)[2][9][8][3][2][6][3](33)

[Tavar]

"You might find that a bit hard to carry out!"

Wing charges forward as the tentacles grasp the door, ending the charge in a three-quarter's body pivot as he spins his staff around, violently smashing it into the possessed Infernal.

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Excellency +2 Attack: (13d10)[9][5][1][6][4][10][6][4][7][6][10][10][7](85)

[Recaiden]

Poison tendrils close on the door, and wrench it open. Walking corpses rush into the room, armed with weapons, tools, or just the strength of the dead. Before Raziel's rider has any time to appreciate the success, a staff comes out of nowhere and slams her body into a wall. That's annoying enough, but the salt of the weapon continues through and cuts at her own corpus, the shock of the strike disrupting control. How can one puppet a body when they can't...even...

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Ghost Incapacitated! Raziel freed from possession! Also down into his -1 health levels.

Ignore this roll it shouldn't be here: (12d10)[9][2][7][4][3][2][2][2][6][9][9][4](59)

[Rhyvurg]

"Guys, no rush but there's this mosquito trying to bite me. Kind of tickles."

[Drascin]

"Hey! That's my landlord you're manhandling there!" Drake turns quickly as Pyrus is grabbed, and lunges as well, leaning to the side to try and find an opening as the familiar red threads appear around his hands. Taking advantage of the way they're grabbing, with the Conduit behind Pyrus's back, he pushes the butt of Pyrus's immobilized spear into the gut of the grappler to unbalance him and be able to get to the side before following with a knuckle-sided uppercut - and then jabbing his empowered palm in his stomach, fingers first.

He's fairly sure this isn't going to kill him, or at least so he hopes. He just wants to cause enough pain to make it let go. His Drake side knows enough about parasites and his David side has played enough D&D to be in agreement that you never leave fanged things grappled to an ally if you can at all help it.

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Making two attacks (the butt-hit is just a setup stunt). Going to take the -1 penalty to attack to turn my damage bashing again - but only on the first. The second is Aggravated damage. Drake is almost certain he can't kill an unwounded guy in one strike, but he's willing to risk that small chance in exchange for getting Pyrus out of what looks like pretty bad news.

Unobstructed Blow'ing both of them by spending 8 personal motes.

First at 11B/2, as per usual, second at 11A/2.

(10d10)[10][6][8][3][3][9][3][8][7][4](61)
(10d10)[6][9][3][4][1][8][3][7][7][6](54)

DDV 4
PDV 4
Remaining motes: 0/15 Personal, 20/38 Peripheral)

[Recaiden]

The uppercut is a solid blow, which rocks the conduit's head away from Pyrus and leaves him spitting out a tooth. He's too busy recovering from the first blow to mount any reasonable defense against the second. The crimson energy around Drake's fist lashes out, cutting into the man, who lets out an involuntary shriek of pain.
But the man doesn't let go. He's trying to say something, but it doesn't...work. Just garbled sounds come out. The part feeling pain would, is trying to, but the part dictating his movements? This isn't even her body. This man, this defective servant, he has not even begun to feel pain.

He bites down on Pyrus again, desperately reaching for the essence in his blood. But his hold is growing weak, and his movements to hold the Dragonblood, though still effective, are clumsy.

Masque slowly hobbles towards the door, and then, in a rush, falls forward towards the loyal zombie that opened it and the others coming through the door. There are two flashes of silver as the sycthe cuts through them faster than can be properly seen.

For their part, the zombies, old and newly entered, fight back as best they can, swarming over the abyssal.
The door-opener turns to claw at Masque, and hits the floor a moment later, sliced crosswise into four pieces.
"Just you deal with their leader. I'll keep these things away."

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(9d10)[3][9][1][8][1][1][4][2][7](36)

(15d10)[7][6][9][5][9][7][9][7][8][9][2][7][6][10][5](106)
(15d10)[1][7][7][7][1][5][7][3][3][7][1][3][7][4][5](68)

(8d10)[4][10][10][3][5][9][9][4](54)
(7d10)[6][6][2][7][3][8][6](38)
(8d10)[7][8][3][3][4][3][7][10](45)
(6d10)[6][10][7][6][3][4](36)

[Drascin]

Drake steps to wind up his next attack. Damn and blast.

"Dammit it's not letting him go! Masque! You're the one who knows about zombie primordials! Is there any goddamn way to send this thing off this man?! It's going to kill either him or Pyrus at this rate!"