Return to Ironheart IC

[Inspectre]

The Heavens

Baerdog7

You visit two empty, ruined homes with the ghosts of the past whispering in your ears. It was hard to believe that Korram was also now lost, but then a few days ago an attack upon the Heavens was even more unthinkable. The Fiend Lords were putting their newfound freedom to immediate and horrifyingly effective use. At least now there was one less of them to worry about – a cold comfort given Nihilus’s prophecy of the Certain King. Finding that you can do nothing more for the moment, you return to your violated home, fading into happier memories as the ghosts of Crane and Morgana drone on.

Finally, the dawn comes, and with it the need to set aside your grief. You convert your private domain into a memorial for them, and whether they return to the Heavens or remain in the Hells, they will always live on in your heart. As you turn away and prepare to will yourself a path into the City, something unexpected happens – you hear Morgana’s voice. Not the ghostly one, a voice full of remembered strength, but a weak, thin voice that echoes inside your mind.

Ander . . .? W-where . . . am . . . I?

Checking the soul crystal dangling on its chain around your neck, you can see that it glows now with a bright inner light instead of the lusterless gleam it held before. Perhaps your time so far in the Heavens had strengthened Morgana’s soul somewhat, enough for it to awaken again?

(If Ander has any questions for Morgana or anything that will require an actual conversation, we can certainly play that out simultaneously with the plaza events, although obviously the conversation with Morgana takes place beforehand.)

***********************
Theme Song (I can reuse old themes too. )

With your revived (after a fashion) mentor in hand, you go to the Solar Plaza where Melissan, a few of her sisters, and a countless host of paladins await. From the looks of things, it is not just the paladins who died at the Battle of Narle but were spared damnation, nor members of the various Orders who once fought by your side, but representatives stretching back to the very beginning of the Church! The Solar Plaza, massive as it is, is not enough to hold all of those present, and yet the crowd still somehow manages to part enough to allow your passage through to the dais.

They watch in stoic silence as you remove your cloak, and then begin to address them. Unlike past crowds that you have addressed in recent days, they do not react with anger or shouted disbelief. Perhaps it was the calming bliss of the Heavens that prevented any loud outbursts, or perhaps complete shock at the level of blasphemy you were advocating. When you are finally finished, however, a chorus of murmurs begins to rise, each paladin consulting with their neighbors. Disappointingly, the massive crowd begins to disperse as paladins in ones and twos and threes walk away to return to their eternal reward. But not all of them – perhaps a little less than half of the previously immense crowd remains behind, their intent clear as they consult with those also staying behind about how best to prepare and defend their new home. You don’t fail to notice that the majority of your remaining followers are those who followed your personally at one point or another, but nonetheless there is more than one unfamiliar face in the crowd too. Not everyone, it seems, sets aside their duty so readily, even over the passage of centuries.

(Heeheehee, and now because I can’t resist, time for some fun! LET THE RAMPANT SPECULATION BEGIN! )

Theme Music

Taking your cloak back from where you had draped it during your speech, you turn to walk off to meet with Melissan but are interrupted by a shout. One of the paladins is pointing back towards the Palace of the Sun, and as all eyes turn to look they are blinded by a brilliant flash of light. The light quickly fades to a more tolerable level, although the glare is still somewhat harsh as the very walls of the Palace radiate with a brilliance that has not ever been seen before. Through this corona, a figure is barely visible as a silhouette, standing atop the Palace Gates.

As the light begins to dim further, the figure steps off of the Gates, and his downward plummet is interrupted as dazzling white wings spread out from his back. He swoops down over the Solar Plaza, and the assembled paladins gasp as one in amazement at the sight. Even the angels seem dumbfounded at the newcomer’s appearance, and give him a wide berth as he comes in for a landing on the dais. Now much closer and no longer backlit by the blinding light of the Palace of the Sun, the figure has a number of details that you can make out.

First, and most importantly, the newcomer is male despite the angelic wings stretching out from his back. Having met the Baron’s sons this is not the first time you have seen such a thing, but for most of those assembled this was an unfathomable sight. Second, the newcomer is dressed in heavy plate mail that has been polished to the point where it glows with reflected light, and the suit of armor is complete with a full helmet that obscures his facial features entirely – not even his eyes are visible through the narrow slit of his visor. Third, he is wearing a tabard that is emblazoned with a brilliant sunburst – similar to those on some older banners of the Church and yet distinct from them.

“Your plan is a bold one, if unorthodox. Fortunately, it will not be necessary.”

The newcomer replies as his feet touch the ground of the dais. He spreads his arms wide and turns to address the lingering crowd of paladins.

“Honored warriors of the Heavens, I come to bring you glad tidings! For too long has humanity stood on the precipice between the mortal and the divine! We are asked to find our own way in life, and when our struggle is done, if we have been faithful we are brought here to live in eternal peace! But not all of us, a truth we have all known but have been forced to accept! The cheated, the stolen . . . the lost – all of them have been denied their rightful place beside us! And we are asked to do nothing! Our time has passed, and so we are told to forget about mortal injustice, and this far greater one that has been perpetrated throughout history! The angels will protect us, they will fight our battles for us from now on, should it come to that. But now they too are all but gone, swallowed by the maw of the Hells that even now widens to consume all that we left behind!”

The figure shakes its armored head.

“The time has come for Humanity to learn how to protect itself once more. And as I said moments ago, I have come to bring you glad tidings, even in this dark time. Athelion the Lightbringer has decided that now is the time for Him to act! He will give all those who still wish to serve, who wish to fight, the power and authority to do so! A new army for the Heavens shall be created, but this time it shall not be a separate race created to fight on humanity’s behalf, but drawn from the ranks of humanity itself! As the fiends were once human souls twisted and corrupted, this new army shall be made of human souls that are elevated and empowered by the divine! And as Ander has done before us, we shall return to the mortal realm to battle against Evil and Injustice wherever we find it!”

The figure gestures at himself.

“I am the first true member of this army, part man and part angel. I am an Einherjar, and you may call me Redeemer. But I have come not to lead, I have come to serve.”

Walking over to you, the figure kneels down before you and presents you with his still sheathed sword. Once the expression of obedience has been made, Redeemer stands back up and turns to the crowd for one last time.

“It is my intention to accompany Ander back to the mortal realm. Though I may direct my attention to . . . other matters, I go back to fight alongside him against the forces that seek to destroy and enslave my fellow man! The choice as to whether or not you will follow is yours.”

As if in response, the Gates of the Palace of the Sun begin to grind back open once more. Light stills pours from the walls, and as the gate swings open the light once again becomes uncomfortable as a blinding portal of light is revealed beyond the previously closed gate. His message delivered, Redeemer turns away from the crowd and walks besides you over to Melissan. The angel regards her half-human opposite with a mixture of disgust and regret.

“Well Ander . . . it would seem that Athelion has eliminated the need for your blasphemy. Is this what it feels like . . . to be replaced?”

“I do not believe that it is Athelion’s intent to replace you. I wish only to fight alongside you, not in your stead.”

Redeemer replies, earning a frown from Melissan as she glances back at the Palace Gates, where a number of paladins are starting to form an orderly line to enter the shimmering portal. From the other side of the Gate, the newly created Einherjar fly up into the sky overhead, fanning out to begin patrolling the City.

“I mean no offense, but that was never our Lady’s intent. I exist solely so that it never came to this. And now that my failure is complete, I think I need some time to meditate on this . . . decree alone. If you will excuse me – Ander I will catch up with you later, in time to join you and return to the mortal realm.”

At that, Melissan turns and flies off, and as she goes you think that you can see tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. Beside you, Redeemer clears his throat awkwardly.

“Well, that could have gone better. My apologies, but your gathering seemed like the logical place to make my own announcement from. I meant no offense but . . . I suppose I could have handled that better.”

Your newest (semi-)angelic companion in tow, you walk towards Belroar’s forge only to meet the dwarf on the way there. Clearly he had been present at the dual-announcement.

“Ander, lad! Nice to see you still know how to speak fire now and then, even if living up here in the clouds has made a bunch of people soft!”

Belroar spits and gives Redeemer a half-nod.

“Er, you as well I suppose. So you’re what, part angel now, but you started off as pure human? Athelion didn’t just pull you out of His arse wholecloth?”

“No, no He didn’t. I was a human soul just like Ander, who fought and died and awoke here. And like him, I couldn’t accept to live here in idle bliss while so many others suffered elsewhere. Fortunately, Athelion was willing to extend a similar opportunity to me.”

“Huh. Just like that, from human to part angel, eh? What’s the catch? What got cut away to make room for all those angel-y bits?”

“Nothing. Does Ander seem suddenly not human to you? I am just like him!”

For a moment, Belroar simply stares, until Redeemer glances back at the big feathery wings jutting from his back.

“Uh . . . okay, so I have wings. But my point remains the same! I am still the person I was, just . . . more now. You don’t have to believe me if you don’t wish.”

“Damn straight.”

The crotchety old dwarf grunts, and then motions for you to both follow him.

“Come on Ander, I’ve got your armor all shined up for you. I wasn’t able to make it good as new, considering it is divinely forged, but it should hold up against a couple measly Fiend Lords! Just don’t get involved in any more brawls with archangels, eh?”

“Wait! That reminds me, Ander. What happened to the archangels? Are they all in the Hells now, or are they safe?”

(Assuming poor Ander doesn’t already have enough yet to react to, upon returning to the mortal realm he learns that Randall has found his promised mage to assist the elite assault team. Ross has been confirmed to still be in Amaranth helping fight off the elven siege. Korram’s whereabouts are still unknown, as are Akor’s. There was a report that Katashiko was seen by some commoner being confronted by three other women and a band of men. Rather than fight it seems she uncharacteristically surrendered and allowed herself to be led off bound to an unknown destination.

And finally, if you would like to go ahead with Ander’s brands being applied, you can just add that to your next post. I don’t have any special plans for that event, nor do I intend to screw you over – on that part at least. )

The Hells

The Mire of Desolation

Archpaladin Zousha

At your comments, Lenora manages a weak smile and nods.

“Really? Hmm . . . I can remember what I was thinking then, but it’s all . . . hazy, like I was drugged. Those same thoughts are still there, in the back of my mind. I’m scared that I will lose myself in them again – I hope that you can help keep me focused.”

At your introduction of Katrina, the devil girl snorts.

“Yeah, although it’s more me just being pissed off! Pissed off about how I got screwed, pissed off about this whole place, and pissed off about this DAMN MUSIC! Gods, I put that mud in my ears, and it did nothing, the music came right back a couple minutes later! And it’s on my LAST nerve!”

“You heard music? So . . . so did I, before I got . . . lost in my own thoughts.”

Lenora mentioned, which seems to confirm that this odd violin playing you’ve been hearing throughout your journey through the swamp is more than just music. At that point, the time for talk was over as you needed to stay ahead of the Hellgarde. As the group of you make for the back door to the tower, Katrina grunts in response to your argument.

“Yeah you’re right, but I have a headache and want to pound on something. These Hellgarde guys seem like they need the sense beaten back into them.”

Despite her stated desire to fight, Katrina nonetheless follows you and Lenora over to the far door. You wait as long as you dare, and then swing the door open and duck back outside. As soon as Lenora and Katrina are through, you close the door behind you. Just in time, as you catch a glimpse of the door swinging open to allow the Hellgarde entry into the tower before your door is gently pushed shut. Staying low, the three of you make your way along the wall around to the next door, leading into the manor proper. Thankfully, for once your luck is good and there are no shouts from behind you or from the courtyard below. You go through the door into the manor and find yourself in a lounge of sorts.

Unlike the swamp-consumed city below and the exterior of the manor, the lounge seems to be in relatively decent shape. The furniture is still intact, although covered in dust and cobwebs. A door set in the wall across the room presumably grants access to the rest of the second floor, although there is also a stairway leading up the next floor in this room. Volesin is sitting on the bottom step of this stairway, staring down at his claw-like hands in a horrified manner. The omnipresent violin music is not much louder inside the manor, but it is much crisper and clearly coming from somewhere on the floor above. In addition to the violin music, you can now hear a female voice softly singing in time to the music, her words belonging to a language that you don’t recognize, although the verses are still poignant despite that.

Theme Song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SgWygHHfWOM

From his position on the stairs, Volesin whispers, seemingly more to himself than you as he doesn’t even look up.

“My hands . . . they are stained with the blood of so many people. Good, evil, innocent, guilty . . . did I really do enough to know who it was that I judged worthy of death?”

“Aw, ****! They got him too! Come on, SNAP OUT OF IT!”

Katrina yelled, running forward and driving her fist into Volesin’s jaw. The man’s head snaps back and as he collapses back against the stairs he does look up, but it is an empty one.

“Yes, you were right to be angry. I killed your mother not for justice, but out of greed and anger! But I did it only because I wanted the best for your sister!”

“The **** is he talking about!?”

Katrina growls, her rage momentarily fading into confusion before she looks up the stairs and her eyes narrow again.

“Somebody’s got to make that damn music stop – and it might as well be me!”

She dashes up the stairs, heedless of any call to get her to stop. Volesin dumbly returns to staring at his hands, whispering something under his breath – the names of his victims, perhaps? Lenora goes over to him and looks up the stairs warily, and then back at you.

“Are we going after her? If you want, I can stay here and try to bring your other friend here around. I, after all, have some experience with how one’s thoughts can become twisted in this place. Meanwhile, you can try to catch up to Katrina before she runs headlong into further danger.”

The Black General’s Citadel

Iethloc/Pwenet

Deciding to investigate the administration center, the group moves towards the narrow balcony that contains the secret teleportation circle. Over the narrow railing surrounding the balcony are the steep walls of the citadel, plunging down nearly two hundred feet to where twisted brambles, the beginnings of the mist-obscured swamp, await. The balcony itself is fairly featureless, save for the pedestal set into the wall that the balcony extends out from. Sitting on the pedestal is a bronze statue depicting a large serpent in the midst of constricting around and engorging itself on several naked humans. Sohssal can determine that the statue is magical, and seems to be connected to the faint traces of magic coming from the balcony itself – an inactive teleportation circle.

Further study of the statue reveals that it is the activation point for the teleportation circle, and that no keystone is necessary. Instead, pressing on the serpent’s fangs (it has more than two) is a particular order is necessary to activate the circle. Fortunately, the magic does not activate until all of the fangs have been pressed back, and by studying the subtle changes in the magic as each fang is pressed, Sohssal is able to deduce the correct order (I don’t think anyone wants to waste time on puzzles here. )

As the last fang is pressed back, a hum of magic fills the air, there is a momentary flash of light, and then everyone finds themselves standing in the midst of a library. Leather-bound tomes fill shelf after shelf, and instead of the musty smell typical of such libraries, the scent of blood is heavy in the air. The sound of muffled screaming gets the group’s attention fairly quickly, and leads them to a point where the shelves open out into a clear space.

In the middle of this space there are a dozen humanoid figures chained into kneeling positions and doubled over, leaving their naked backs stretched out and exposed. Long thin spikes with glowing hot tips float over them, periodically moving down to scrawl tiny letters onto the canvas of their backs, prompting a fresh chorus of muffled screams. Supervising this process is a stout grey-skinned creature seated on a pillow floating a few feet above. It’s only clothing appears to be a purple silk hood that covers most of its head. Without turning around to face the party, it growls out.

“Imp, I assume you brought these two here for a reason. What is it that they require?”

The Mortal Realm

The Monument of Narle

Dorizzit

When you mention that you only acted against the Baron of Gast because you hated him, and not out of any desire to uplift the common man or any other such nonsense, Liberator takes a sharp hissing intake of breath. And then, he is simply silent for some time, allowing you to continue speaking without interruption. It is clear that he is simply stunned that you give not one whit for the struggle between nobles and commoners – and indeed don’t seem to be in favor of such revolution. When you are finished, Liberator is silent for a moment longer, and then speaks, choosing his words with care as he fights to control his anger.

“You are entitled to your opinion – that is the right of all free men. But just because I have personally been wronged by a nobleman, that does not mean that I am wrong!”

Liberator slaps his hands down onto the table, and it quivers from the blow.

“You should look around you Korram, at all of the evils have befallen our homeland as of late! Because of their stupidity, their greed, their cruelty our people stand on the brink of annihilation by the elves! Should the people of this nation not be allowed to erect new leadership when their leaders have failed them so badly!? And yet the nobility will not allow it – they will cling to their power with everything they have, until we are forced to pry it from their cold dead hands!”

Liberator slumps back into his chair, forcing the anger back down as he shakes his head.

“You may be right that there are nobles who are not so ignorant of their duties to the people they serve. But do you honestly think that even they will stand aside as the very foundation of their worldview is torn down by the people who must erect a new power structure to survive? Do you think even Rose Volesin, or Amelia Ashargrin, will willingly come to accept that they are nothing more than equals of all the men that they once ruled over? But perhaps your own judgment is clouded on this matter – I have heard that the Countess Ashargrin is quite beautiful, and it is always hard to see the shadows on a pretty face.”

Liberator sighs and stands up, pacing around the narrow confines of the tent as he continues.

“You are free to do as you wish, Korram. But I think you will be very disappointed when you find that your faith in the nobility, in any of the “nobility” is displaced. At their core, they are all the same, and they will have to be pushed aside by force in order for the people of Narle to be free. If they were willing to stand down peacefully and accept their new place in the world as equals rather than superiors . . . I would welcome it. Whatever you think of me, Korram, my goal is the liberation of the people of Narle, not the destruction of the nobility. Thought from what I have seen, the former must follow the latter.”

Liberator thinks for a moment, and then moves to a chest in another corner of the tent. From within, he draws a folder letter, sealed with wax.

“If you are headed to Luxien, would you be willing to deliver this letter to the Church leadership? Convincing the Church to abandon its support for the nobility would be most helpful, and not difficult I imagine given the last King attempted to kill their goddess! In return, I can offer you a faster method of transport than your own feet. It is a long way to Luxien from here.”

The Seashore

OverWilliam

You ask the question, expecting some sort of snark or further cryptic bull**** form Nihilus, but there is only silence. Turning away from the vista of the sleeping city below to look back, you see only empty rooftop – Nihilus is gone. So it would appear that no further information would be forthcoming after all . . . wonderful. Clearly you were expected to come up with a solution on your own, and you likely didn’t have time to go with the brute force approach of checking every stone personally, even with your incredible speed.

Pondering the problem does reveal a few salient facts. These lessons Nihilus is giving you seem to be intended to push your abilities . . . and also push you away from thinking of people as people and more as pawns on a chessboard. It seems likely that Nihilus thought you would be able to complete this task somehow through using your abilities, possibly in some new way. Giving that not even you know entirely what you are capable of, discovering new ways to use your abilities won’t be difficult, but finding the right one might be. Then again, this lesson could also be one in futility, an impossible difficult task given to you by Nihilus to illustrate the sheer magnitude of the burden the two of you were shouldering.

Nihilus hadn’t explained what was inside the first bag that he retrieved, so you could be collecting his misplaced pocket change for all you knew. But he had gone and gotten the first bag himself after you went for the girl instead – that suggested whatever was in these bags was important. Would Nihilus then collect the second bag if you failed as he had the first? Presumably he knew right where it was – if he was still here you could attempt to read into his past to the point in time where he hid it in the first place. Although, that might not have been a good idea anyway given the enormity of Nihilus’s past.

Thinking about it further, you realize that you may be starting to get a read on how your new mentor thinks. Much like a thief, he wouldn’t hide it somewhere that was actually hidden – he’d want it to be in plain sight. You already knew that it was under the cobblestones of the street, but that idea meant that it would be under the street somewhere where people walked every day, not in back alleys and dark corners. Perhaps in a crossroads of the city’s main streets, or an important square? There were still a few places you would have to check if so, but the task just became checking a number of locations rather than an infinite number. The only question now was where to start, seeing as how you didn’t know Amaranth very well, and how you would identify what you were looking for.

(Assuming Tamerlane uses his abilities in some fashion, whatever solution you should come up with should work provided it’s sensible.)

The Woods Outside Silverstream

Vegna

At your mention of giving your ogre friend a heartattack, Elise smirks and giggles.

“If I had known that would be all it took, I would have suggested it much earlier! Why do you think Master Vork decided to take such a creature in as one of his students, anyway?”

****************

The strange newcomer doesn’t immediately answer your question, examining you and Elise critically.

“Hrm . . . you don’t know the ultimate technique, do you? But you should, unless . . . aw, ****. Well, this is my mistake, Mal. I suppose it’s only fair that I help fix this mess.”

The mage paces back and forth a moment, then nods to himself, pounding one gloved fist into the palm of his other hand before looking back at the two of you.

“Alright I’m going to keep this short and to the point because frankly, trying to explain everything would take all night. My name is Nihilus, and I am the Writer of History.”

“Nihilus? Isn’t that the name of –“

Elise begins before the mage cuts her off.

“Yes, I am one of the Fiend Lords. Now, kindly do not interrupt me again.”

“What does a Fiend Lord want –“

Elise begins, and is interrupted again when Nihilus is suddenly behind her, a hand clamped down over her mouth.

“I said don’t interrupt me again.”

Nihilus says calmly, and when Elise swings an elbow back behind her, Nihilus is suddenly standing back where he was a moment before. This display of being able to be anywhere at once is enough to convince Elise to be silent, although she now watches the Fiend Lord with a mixture of curiosity and fury.

“Now then. I think we should be able to fix this without resorting to drastic actions. First, you need to go to Luxien regardless, because I assume you want these people you are escorting to find safety and that Terra trusting that my word is good will come in handy later. He’s going to be hunting for you now regardless, and I think you’ll find that there are people in Luxien who can protect you from him. Teaming up with them might not be a bad idea, although we need to get you in fighting shape first. You either need to convince Master Vork to start teaching you his “ultimate” techniques, or you need to go above him . . . to the source. There is a secluded monastery where a number of elemental fighting techniques have been preserved . . . and it was there that the Terra style was first developed. Most of it has been lost over the centuries, as such things often are, but there may be answers for you there. I can tell you where to go and find it . . . if you survive your first confrontation with Terra. Best of luck on that! I shall hopefully see you again . . . soon.”

And just like that, the Fiend Lord is gone, leaving you and Elise alone again. The she-elf looks at you uncertainly.

“Well Mal, what to do we do? If we go to Luxien, we’ll meet our mortal enemy . . . and it sounds like he’s going to do his best to kill us. Normally I would suggest that we ask Master Vork for guidance, but I’m starting to see that his judgment is not always . . . correct. On the other hand, we’re going to need to involve him at some point, either to teach us how to defeat Terra, or we’re going to have to trust this Fiend Lord to guide us to someone who can. I trust him even less.”

Elise sighs and smiles weakly.

“Things were much less exciting before you and the elves showed up. Are you always fighting for your life against impossible odds like this?”

Luxien, The Cathedral City

Kasanip

At your words, Ysora thought for a moment and then bowed her head.

“Perhaps our sisters can be restored. But if they die while down in the Hells, then their souls will form new bodies from the material of the Hells. It will stain their souls, and the corruption will be very difficult to wash out then . . . perhaps impossible. Certainly, the damage done to their minds from the torment of the Hells will not be easy to heal. But the alternative is to give them up for lost eternally, as our Lady seems to have done, and that I cannot accept. There must be something that we can do!”

At your latest attempt to convince Ysora that love is a blessing and not a curse, she chokes up again. As you move to embrace her, reaching around to run a hand reassuringly along her wings, you see another emotion flicker across Ysora’s face . . . guilt? Was there something that she was not telling you about your own loved ones? Certainly, the world was still here and so your children were successful at casting down Azguloth and His avatar, but that did not mean without cost. That was an unfathomably long time ago, just after your first passing from this world, and so there are no records commonly available. Given Ander’s own closeness to your Lady, however, perhaps he knew and would be willing to tell you since Ysora seemed so reluctant to discuss it. At least your sister was willing to help you get back to the Heavens, so that you could speak with Miriam once more! Raising your Lady’s spirits was certain to improve things.

Then time slowed to a stop and the orange-eyed fiend from your dreams appeared before you. As you reach for Exshia, the interloper quirks an eyebrow but makes no other move – given his apparent control over time, he might not need to make a move to escape. Your divine heritage screams at you to strike anyway, to destroy this evil creature where it stands before it can speak any lies, but your desire for answers motivates you to speak instead. The fiend slaps a hand against his cowled forehead in response to your admission.

“Right, it takes a while for the memories to interlace themselves with those of the host – I forgot that part. It probably doesn’t help that there wasn’t much left to work with, but it was the best I could manage. My sincere apologies for the confusion you must be going through right now, Genevieve. I wish there was something else I could do to make your future easier, but I fear that your path will only grow more difficult from here.”

The figure raises his hands up in what was supposed to be a peaceful gesture, although given fiends’ love of deception it could be meant for a much different purpose. No attack is forthcoming, however.

“What I can do for you is answer your questions with blunt honesty. Although I can’t speak with certainty without looking into your mind – something I would imagine you would be wary of having me do – I imagine that this nightmare you speak of is the moment of your death. Yes, you died, rather permanently too given that the Herald of Azguloth feasted upon your soul! Or at least, that was Fate’s plan for you – as your presence here can attest I had other ideas in mind. I am Nihilus, the Writer of History – yes, the same Fiend Lord who so recently led the attack on Luxien, although that is a separate matter. For now, let’s continue discussing the matter of your death and resurrection. As you could probably guess, when the Herald of Azguloth drew close for the final blow, I stopped time and appeared before you. We came to an agreement, and then I placed a crystal much like this one on your chest –“

With a flourish, Nihilus produces a blood red crystal as long as his gloved index finger from the sleeve of his jacket. It gleams with a hungry, malevolent inner light.

“- reached through your battered flesh, and crushed your heart. Death was instantaneous and rather painless, at least compared to what you had been through up to that point. At that moment, what was left of your soul, the shattered pieces that the Herald of Azguloth hadn’t already eaten, were sucked into the crystal and trapped there. I then took the crystal and left. When time resumed, the Herald of Azguloth was none the wiser, having believed that you had simply expired early – and this fed into his arrogance so he never questioned it. That was how you died.”

Nihilus palms the soul crystal once more with a shrug.

“Now, as for how you came back. We came to an agreement in those frozen moments, and I will admit that given you were staring certain death in the face I held the advantage in our negotiations. You were still Genevieve the Champion, however, and so I can assure you that you agreed to nothing vile or grotesque – save of course for having the remnants of your soul trapped inside a crystal. When the time was right, when you would be needed again, I promised that I would bring you back. I did hold one detail back about the nature of your return . . . that it would require a new body for your soul to use as a host. I found a young woman named Lukina Marcellis whose own body and soul were compatible with yours, and one night while she slept I implanted your crystal into her body. Since then the two of you have become entwined – not quite Lukina, not quite Genevieve, but perhaps close enough to the Champion to do the things that must be done. Our world teeters on the edge of the abyss. I have restored you to life as promised Genevieve, because I believe that you can help save it. But I did not bring you back as a slave – you are free to go about saving the world as you see fit.”

Nihilus turns away as if to go, but stops, his back to you.

“I will leave you to it, but before I do I wanted to give you some parting advice, and my request. I do not know whether it is your intention to go to the Heavens or the Hells, but I can offer you a third option. There is a man coming here with a group of refugees fleeing the elven invasion. When he gets here, he will be confronted by a very powerful and dangerous nemesis that will not hesitate to kill him. He might survive on his own, but aiding him in his own struggle should prove beneficial to the larger one. All the same, he should survive without help, unless I underestimated his capabilities – in which case he never was going to be very useful! If you’re set on venturing into the Hells with your sister to keep her safe and sane, you should attempt to find another man who is undoubtedly traveling here right now. His name is Korram Alstan, and he would be a very driven ally of the expedition into the Hells. Finally, if it is still your intention to return to the Heavens, then I ask that you repay the gift of your life with a simple task. While you are inside the Palace of the Sun, I need you to locate an inscription carved into one of the walls – my best guess as to its location is the Throne Room of the gods, but it could be anywhere. I would go do it myself, but as you might guess due to my nature I would not be very welcome there, and I’m certainly not going to try to fight the gods in their very lair!”

Nihilus pauses a moment, glancing back at you, and then continues.

“Ander probably told you about the Prophecy of the Certain King? “All things must end, even the reign of the gods” and all that? Well, that was only part of the prophecy, and I believe that one of the other parts is located within the Palace of the Sun. I need you to find the inscription, memorize it, and then tell me what it says. Simply say the words “Nihilus, the Writer of History”, and I will return. Do this and I will consider your debt of life repaid in full. So what will you do now?”

Gorgondantess

As Zareth’s converted humans prepare to leap towards you, they suddenly freeze in place. Or perhaps, not so much as freeze motionless as time slows to a momentarily halt. A portal opens up in the floor below you, allowing Nihilus to emerge and crawl up to his feet beside the portal. No sooner has he closed the portal behind him before he tears open another one below you. Through this one, you can see clear blue skies and greenery, a far cry from the barren rock you had seen on the approach to Zareth’s Tower.

“Ready to get out of here!? Come on, let’s go!”

Nihilus shouts, and seeing no reason not to trust the Fiend Lord’s aid (for the moment), you let go of your perch and drop down into the portal. Despite falling down through it, you are deposited out the other side with no ill effects, your momentum halted such that you land lightly on your feet. Hephestia clambers out of your grasp to fall onto the earth with a grateful sigh and kisses the ground. Maurice’s response is more muted, simply climbing down to stand beside you, looking around and breathing the fresh air in deeply.

Nihilus emerges from the portal just before it closes.

“Well, I suspect Zareth is going to be rather angry with me now. No matter – you played your role admirably, and it all worked out.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you. You’re the one that wanted to have me sold to Zareth!”

Hephestia muttered sullenly, and Nihilus merely shrugged and rolled his eyes.

“We needed something to get us in the front door, didn’t we, and you too played your role as unwilling prisoner admirably. Now the princess has been rescued from her tower, and it’s time for the knight to get paid. Although rather than virtue, what I’m interested in are two things – an introduction with the Dusk Wardens, and for you to use your talents to make me something very specific. And I would rather that the two of us discuss what that something is in private.”

Nihilus looks pointedly at Hephestia and then Maurice, and then looks back and forth between you and Maurice.

“Of course, I can wait a little longer to discuss those details. Come along Hephestia, it would be best if we were elsewhere for a little while.”

As the former archangel sputtered protests, Nihilus grabbed hold of her and dragged her through yet another portal, leaving you alone with Maurice. The angel manages a weak smile, and then turns her gaze away from you towards the sun, allowing it to caress the entirety of her face as she runs her fingers through blood-matted hair, trying to untangle it.

“I never thought I would feel the sun’s warmth again . . . amazing how the simplest things are what we take most for granted. You put yourself in terrible danger for my sake, and while I know why that still doesn’t diminish the danger you were in . . . the danger we all were in.”

Maurice sways, and would have fallen over had you not been there to catch her. You gently lower her down to a sitting position on the ground, and she clings to you as she begins sobbing uncontrollably. She tries to speak several times, but each time the words that come out are unintelligible, and only seem to make her cry harder. Finally, it seems to pass, and Maurice takes several steadying breaths before wiping at her eyes and trying to speak again. Her voice is wavering, but she manages to get the words out this time.

“I’m sorry. What I saw down in the Hells, what I went through . . . it was worse than nightmarish. And it is a fate that my sisters continue to suffer. And although I still have faith in my Lady, I cannot understand how they could be allowed to continue to suffer like that. Or why I, of all of them, would have someone who cares so deeply for me that they would risk a similar fate to earn my release. I . . . I am . . . words cannot express my gratitude, even if I don’t understand why you feel the way you do.”

Maurice thinks a moment, and then speaks again.

“I’m so sorry that I left you, but I thought you were dead and I needed to assist my Lady. Quadramus was there at the Battle . . . he was the one who condemned me to the Hells! I didn’t understand why at the time, but now I suspect he knew you were still alive. He wanted to use me against you, distract you somehow . . . what do you think he was trying to do?”

[Inspectre]

Phaedra

The_Snark/Lonna

After the doors flew open to admit the two combatants, things happened in a matter of seconds. Wulfric sent flying back into Jacqueline, who deliberately moved to interpose herself to catch him. The two stumbling back from the impact, tumbling over Mar who was trying to jump up to her feet to get out of the way. The three of them tumbling down to the floor together in a tangled heap that would perhaps be comical if the situation were not so grim. The fire cat, nimbly leaping free of the tangle just before impact, glancing back with clear disapproval as it stretched and arced its back at the group. Mar, sent into a panic by memories of previous torture sessions that began by being literally pinned to the floor or wall, thrashing about wildly. With her supernatural strength that grew as her body struggled to become more archangel than human, Mar threw both Wulfric and the Phaedran princess off her with minimal effort. Wulfric went one way, rolling across the icy floor, and Jacqueline went the other way, leaving Mar mercifully free again. Although the freedom is temporary, as ice rises from the floor around everyone except Jacqueline at a gesture from Titania, pinning them in place. This includes Dariel the Centuar, preventing him from charging forward to continue the enraged attack on Wulfric.

“As my daughter just asked, what is the meaning of this human!? Didn’t I already tell you to behave yourself?”

Titania growled. Wulfric gave an insincere smile and tried to shrug, a motion that was cut short by the ice built up around his arms.

“When I saw horseboy over there, walking up like he was going to come in here, I simply asked him how his nose was. He responded by trying to kick me in the face – I’m not allowed to defend myself!?”

“Insolent mortal! I am not stupid! I heard the scorn in your tone – you were mocking me! And I will not be mocked by the likes of you!”

Dariel growled, instantly changing from furious to fearful as Titania spoke up again.

“Dariel . . . you are an idiot. For the moment, I have no further use for you – return to your previous state!”

“No, no please! Argh!”

Dariel screamed as his body melted away like a blowing cloud of sand, re-coalescing back into a glowing orb of light like so many others that inhabited the Queen’s palace, and seemed to be all that remained of her many subjects. With another gesture, Titania removed the ice that had formed around Mar and Wulfric, freeing them and prompting the fire cat to once again return to Mar’s lap.

“Wulfric . . . I think that it is best you go somewhere else and . . . rest for a bit. My daughter will visit you shortly.”

As Wulfric is about to sputter an objection, Titania gestures a final time, and he winks out of existence. Before Jacqueline can become alarmed, Titania held up a hand.

“I merely teleported him to another, currently sealed off, room of the castle. He will be fine until we conclude our conversation. Honestly daughter, I do not know what you see in him. He is an uncouth, violent brute with nary an ounce of civility, respect, or magical aptitude.”

Titania winced and coughed, the previous displays of magic now clearly having drained some of her strength as she slumped back into her throne.

“Now . . . where were we?”

Titania rasped as the shadows on the ceiling began to dance and glow once more.

“Ah yes . . . “

On the ceiling, a much younger Titania (about Jacqueline’s age) appears out of the ether in the snow. Looming before her is the familiar sight of Ironheart, although now it is not the banners of the kingdom of Narle and the barony of Gast flying from the towers, but the cresting sunburst of the Knights of the New Dawn. Overhead, the moon shone down, reflecting off the snow and creating a twinkling plain of white. Against such a background, Titania’s approach was seen immediately, and within a minute she had a full escort of soldiers leading her inside. Dacian met her just inside the gate, either expecting her or capable of moving about the fortress quite quickly.

“Ah, my queen. We were not expecting you.”

“Of course not. I came at night, alone. I am aware that Ironheart’s location is meant to be secret, and wanted to do my best to keep it. But I did want to accept your offer to come inspect the security of my – of Azguloth’s prison.”

The two shared a smile, and then Dacian stepped aside and motioned for the guards to do likewise. Slipping an arm inside of Dacian’s, Titania allowed herself to be lead into the fortress. As they stepped inside the fortress’s central keep, Titania looked around in curiosity.

“I was surprised not to see any of the order’s famed dragonriders patrolling the skies above the fortress.”

Titania remarked, and Dacian did not even slow as he replied with a lie.

“Yes. I’m afraid that many of the dragons have decided to depart from their service to the order. The few that we have left are currently out on a delicate assignment patrolling the southern part of the mountain range.”

“I see. And your sister Elandra? Is she currently asleep or would I be able to meet her?”

“I am afraid that my sister is . . . ill. She has been afflicted with terrible visions. Visions of Azguloth escaping due to weaknesses in the Great Seal over His prison. Perhaps you could help decipher them actually, given your experience with . . . magic.”

“Perhaps. But I was hoping to have a tour of your impressive fortress first. I am especially interested in your sleeping arrangements. Surely as one of the Order’s leaders, you have your own quarters?”

Titania asked with a mischievous smile, that given the present Titania’s sourness, seemed quite out of place. The images fade away back into shadows as the two head for Dacian’s private quarters, arm-in-arm.

“As you might guess, I spent several more hours in Dacian’s arms that night. I also helped decipher Elandra’s horrific visions for him when he described them to me when we weren’t . . . preoccupied. But I had an ulterior motive for this visit, a singular driving thought that compelled me to come to Ironheart. And so after Dacian was finally lulled to sleep, I slipped out of his bed, got dressed, and left for the fortress’s depths. For someone of my arcane skills, obscuring myself from the guards’ notice was trivially easy. Down deeper and deeper into the fortress I went, until at last I found it – the Great Seal.”

The shadows dance into shapes once again, although this time they are darker than the previous projections bright colors. Given what they were depicting it was likely no accident. Clad in a simple robe now rather than the ornate dress she had arrived in, Titania appears, walking down a set of black obsidian steps. She reaches the bottom, and before her is a large chamber, lit only by the faint magical glow of the adamantine plates set into the floor – the Great Seal. As if entranced by the sight, Titania walks forward until she is standing directly over the seal, and then kneels down on top of it. With one finger, she traces the intricate whirls carved into the surface of the seal, seeming to read and understand their meaning.

“Are you really my father?”

Titania whispers to the seal as she continues tracing the patterns. Finally her finger stops at one particular point and she closes her eyes.

“So . . . the seal is not entirely perfect. There is a tiny seam here, as if a channel between this world and the space beyond has been created, like hair caught in a door. But would it also be enough for me to project myself through to the other side?”

Titania whispers to herself. She chews her lip nervously, and then takes a deep breath.

“Only one way to find out!”

A glow of magical energy bursts into being around Titania’s body, and then sinks down into the seal. Titania immediately collapses down on top of the seal, her eyes rolling back up into her head. The shadows projecting this past event darken further as they shift madly, before solidifying back to depict a featureless black space, within which an ephemeral projection of Titania floats effortlessly. A voice, gurgling and screeching, the sound of it driving needles up Jacqueline and Mar’s spines, breaks the perfect silence a moment later as a humanoid figure forms out of the darkness before Titania.

“Ah . . . it seems I have a visitor. What an unexpected and pleasant surprise. My pawn has done his work far better than I possibly could have hoped for!”

“You . . . are you Azguloth?”

Titania whispered, and the creature nodded its bald head.

“Yes and no. I am His avatar – you may call me Loth . . . or if you prefer . . . Father.”

At that admission from the dark god’s avatar, Titania’s shoulders slumped and she sighed.

“So it is true, then . . . wait, your pawn?”

Titania asked, becoming alarmed as the figure melted away into the darkness, only to reappear directly in front of her. The young queen’s alarm grew only further as tendrils of darkness lashed out at her projection, binding her limbs and holding her uncomfortably immobile. The avatar of Azguloth stretched out one finger, touching Titania’s nose, down over her lips, down past her chin, and then stopping in the hollow of her throat. Loth’s tone was clearly amused as he explained.

“Yes. I corrupted Dacian into becoming My puppet. He was to release me, following a prescribed set of ritual sacrifices to undo Miriam’s precious seal. If he was able, he was also to find the sole remaining offspring that I produced to help him. But you and he both have far exceeded My expectations! Now the ritual won’t be needed at all . . . I can simply leave and start anew!”

“W-what . . . do you mean?”

Titania gasped, her projection struggling in vain to free itself as more tendrils wrapped around her. Loth laughed, the sound like stones being ground down into dust.

“You have entered this space by following the strand that connects me still to my pawn. It stands to reason that you can leave by the same means. When you do so, however, you shall take my own essence back through the seal with you! This unfortunately necessary shell of flesh shall be regrettably left behind, but that is alright . . . I will have a fresh one!”

“B-bastard! I will not be your puppet!”

“Of course not. I will have need of useful servants . . . and my shell shall need parents to raise it. The seed that Dacian had the foresight to plant within you will not be as strong of a host as this one . . . it will require assistance to fulfill its purpose in bringing Miriam’s world crashing down around Her!”

“S-seed? You mean I’m –“

“Yes. Now you may want to prepare yourself – this will be unpleasant. But I assure you, that it will all be over soon.”

And then Loth shoved his finger into Titania’s throat, causing her to choke as dark veins began to spread out beneath the skin, radiating out from the wound before beginning to twist around and flow down her neck, seeking Azguloth’s new host.

“S . . . stop!”

Titania managed to choke out, struggling with renewed fury but no greater success against the tendrils that bound her projection. A brief corona of light flashed out from her into the inky blackness, but it was immediately consumed by the darkness. Loth chuckled again.

“I am the Creator of Darkness. The divine magic that one of Miriam’s whores taught you is useless before me. Struggle if you must, but know that there is no power in this world that can stop me. I shall be reborn!”

“You’re . . . wrong!”

Theme Song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZfJj-ivPhE

Titania chokes out, struggling with all her might against the tendrils and managing to make a small amount of headway, enough to bring her palms up to point at Loth. There is another brief flash of light, only this time instead of a corona of light a focused blast of air strikes Loth directly in the chest. The impact sends him flying back out of sight into the impenetrable blackness, his finger ripping its way out of Titania’s throat. As a trickle of liquid blackness begins to leak from the wound, a corona of fire bursts into being around Titania’s project, burning away the tendrils holding her. From the darkness, Loth howls.

“What!? Impossible! No divine magic a mortal could learn can oppose me!”

“I didn’t use divine magic, fool!”

Titania spat.

“I’ve studied the world with my own eyes, and I have learned that you and Miriam are not the only sources of power within it! What you face now is mortal magic, developed by my own mind and harnessed with my own will! I am Queen Titania, chosen of Miriam and daughter of Azguloth! And I am telling you right now, that you will never have my child!”

From the darkness Loth chuckles again as red lightning begins to course through the blackness around Titania.

“Ah, but you forget my dear daughter . . . I still have a pawn outside of this accursed prison. If you will not assist me, then in the end I still lose nothing but time. I am a god . . . and for all your cleverness . . . you are still . . . mortal!”

A blast of lightning suddenly shoots forth from behind Titania, prompting the sorceress-queen to whirl about and summon a prism of ice, diffusing the lightning into an explosion of sparks. As the light produced from the lightning bolt fades, Loth reforms behind Titania, moving with blinding speed as he drives a hand through her abdomen, his fingers emerging from the front of her stomach in an explosion of ethereal viscera. More dark veins begin to radiate out from the massive wound, and others begin to crawl up onto Titania’s face as Loth wraps his other hand around her throat. The dark god’s avatar leans in to hiss directly into her ear.

“How like a mortal, to struggle blindly against something she doesn’t even understand. Allow me to explain to you the gift that I am trying to grant you. Your precious Valkyrie has seen fit to withhold Her blessing from your seed. It is already a dead thing, doomed to wither and die for lack of a spark . . . a soul. And why wouldn’t She? Your flesh is of Mine, blasphemous . . . Evil . . . She would never soil Her own oh so clean hands with granting any of your offspring or their own descendants the most important piece of their existence. I am the only one who can grant your seed the chance to sprout, to grow . . . your child can go on to become the greatest human in history – or be a haunting reminder of your failure as you look into its hollow eyes!”

“There’s . . . just one thing . . . you’re forgetting.”

Titania wheezed as her projection began to waver.

“You are a god . . . trapped inside . . . a prison. And I . . . am a mortal . . . who can come and go . . . as she pleases!”

And with that, Titania’s projection melted away entirely, as Loth shrieked in helpless fury.


(PART THREE FORTHCOMING!)

The Past Age

WhiteKnight777

(Well, there are several things we can do about this causality destroying note. But rather than saying nothing happens, I’m just going to leave you to speculate on the consequences, since they won’t be apparent until after a return to the present. But it will have an effect, of that I can assure you. And given that this is Ironheart, well . . . )

As before, you manage to trick Zariel into giving you what you want by pretending to share in his secret zealotry. He hands over the pieces of the soul jar, clearly glad to be rid of them.

“They are in the final steps of their preparations. Tell the others that if Marta is to be rescued, it has to be now! I am not sure what their plans for her are after the ritual is complete. They may simply release her via death, or they may come up with an even more horrifying fate than what she is enduring now. It will all depend upon Umber’s cruel whims – that man is worse than all of the Hells’ fiends! And if word of this mysterious assassin spreads, their actions will become even more unpredictable! Do whatever needs to be done.”

And as simple as that, you have the remaining fragments of Marialta’s soul in hand, which you turn over to Nihilus for further study. The Fiend Lord portals away, leaving you behind with instructions to stay put until he returns. Instead, you take this moment apart from your guide and chaperone to make one desperate attempt at altering the future. There were all sorts of pitfalls to attempting to alter the past, as Nihilus had warned and you had learned first-hand, but you had to at least try to subtly alter what was to follow the ritual. Without that change, all of the Lords of Blood would die, their souls consumed by Marialta’s ritual in a vain attempt to do exactly what you were trying to do now.

Your plan was a simple one, and thus most vulnerable to failing due to random chance or the bitchiness of Fate, but it was all you had time for. You left Fianna a note, begging her not to seek out her own path after she succumbed to the grip of cold, emotionless logic. Perhaps even if she did read the note, she would not listen, or it would change nothing. But you had to try – the payoff if successful was far too great not to. As you left Fianna’s quarters, you come face to face with Nihilus, who seems extremely agitated, to the point of just shy of panic.

“I don’t know what you were doing in there, and while I should probably deal with it now neither of us have the time. I figured out what Marialta’s plan was, oh yes – she went and told her past, er, current self about the whole thing! While we were busy with chasing our mad little time-traveling witch down, the “real” Marialta collected Gilgaem’s key, giving her the three necessary to lower the defenses around the Elixir! She’s probably in there right now, destroying it all! What I need to know right now is, can we get inside without three keys of our own!?”

The Mortal Realm

The City of Amaranth

TechnOkami/daelrog

The two groups that split apart upon arrival in Amaranth now join back together in preparation for what seems sure to be an unpleasant dinner. Amelia arrives with Alons as expected, although Rosenberg has two new companions – Seymour and Bran. The elderly mage is clearly surprised to see Amelia, although he holds off on asking any questions about her apparent miraculous recovery. Ashley arrives with Alexander Ross in tow, and two new guests of her own, a portly man with bloodshot eyes and greasy hair, and a hawk-faced balding man with a pair of spectacles balancing precariously on his nose.

“This is the captain of the city guard, Roland Pryce. And Amaranth’s mayor, Adam Pryce.”

Ashley explains, and each man gives a curt nod to everyone present.

“Yes, we are brothers. Though each of us would deny it at various times.”

Roland says, shooting a sideways glance at the mayor. The mayor merely swallows nervously and nods, then beckons for the group to follow and begins walking up the street to an open plaza that was once decorated with an arrangement of trees, now mere hewn stumps. On the other side of the plaza stands a tall stone building that would be quite defensible . . . if not for the wide bank of full-sized windows that dominate the front face of the building. Off to one side of the building is a fenced-off courtyard that has been brightly lit with a dozen lanterns, and it seems that this is your destination as the mayor walks up and swings open a gate in the fence.

“I thought that some of our present company would appreciate eating in the open air, and so we will be having dinner in the garden tonight.”

“Ah yes, because the scent of this city soiling itself in fear is so appetizing.”

Ross mutters, earning a sharp elbow from Ashley. If the mayor heard the werewolf paladin’s opinion, he gave no sign. Amelia also sighed her displeasure, walking past the mayor as he held the gate open without so much as looking at him. Beyond the fence, like the plaza outside all of the greenery has been cleared away, leaving only bare earth. A few sprouts of some sort of vegetable are just beginning to emerge from the plots, but are currently undistinguishable beyond that. A large wooden table has been moved outside, and its rough contours are a sharp contrast to the elegant padded chairs that circle around it. Several servants who are still lying out all of the silverware make way from the group, helping to show everyone to their seats. There is a brief confrontation when Amelia, upon learning that she would be sitting at the head of the table with the two Pryces and Ashley, instead plops down in the chair at the opposite end, flanked by Alons and Rosenberg. No one challenges her on this decision, but the implication does not go unnoticed.

“So, while the servers bring out the opening course, perhaps we could have some light conversation before we turn to more serious matters. How about we start with where everyone is from? My brother and I were born on a farm a few miles from here, and –“

Roland and Ross both simultaneously groan at this point, clearly having endured this particular conversation starter on previous occasions. Amelia cuts the mayor off sharply, while looking pointedly at Ashley and Roland.

“I thought that this dinner was to focus on the defenses of this city, and how we could stop the elves from killing everyone inside its walls. We can spend time on more . . . “pleasant” conversation after the threat has passed!”

Roland actually scoffs, earning an even blacker look from Amelia.

“I can summarize our plans right now, your grace. We hide behind the walls, and pray that the elves go away before we starve. It’s either that, or we gather everyone that can run together and stage an exodus from the city, and roll the dice on whether half of those make it to safety before the elves hunt them all down. And gods grant us all a swift death if the elves actually get it into their heads to attack the city head-on.”

“Oh? And why is that, Captain?”

“Because, your grace, the elves outnumber this city’s defenders four to one, and that’s just counting the elves alone, not all of the elementals and gods know what else they consort with.”

Roland’s admission of the odds against the city’s survival cast a grim pall over the next several minutes as the first course, some sort of thin stew, is served. Eventually, Mayor Pryce works up the courage to try restarting the conversation again.

“Well, my brother’s analysis is not news to anyone here except our honored guests. But perhaps they have some sort of insight that we may have missed?”

Now seems like a good moment to interject before Amelia antagonizes the besieged city’s leaders any further. Or, perhaps, further antagonism was exactly what these people needed to rally them.

GuyFawkes

You weave your magics, and watch as the fey in their rune-covered, appropriated, human bodies stiffen in response – clearly they can sense even the very presence of magic, although it is hard to say whether or not they see through your illusions. Regardless, they make no immediate hostile action, and your projected image strides into the clearing. Aurewlynn is slightly startled by your sudden appearance – small wonder given your illusion makes no sound until you will it to speak to her. Turning to face your projection, she forces a smile and nods.

“Hello, Noctis. I know that I was to keep to myself, but well . . . I brought a friend. He wishes to speak with you on behalf of the elven people. Given the danger you seem to think that this darkness poses, I thought it best to have him come back with me so you two could meet.”

From amongst the hidden elves one of them stands up and cautiously moves into sight of your projection, hands held out from his sides. Even for an elf, you can tell that this one is old, and as usual with age came seniority – though dressed in the same camouflaging cloaks as the other elves, he carries himself with an aura of command. Similar to Galadren, in fact, although the glint in this one’s eyes suggests that he will not be as amiable to peace.

“Greetings. I am Tur Villid, commander of the fortress that the humans call “Ironheart”. The place where, I have been told, an ancient darkness is being kept chained. Forgive Aurewlynn for bringing you here under false pretenses – the idea was mine. I wished to meet you face to face . . . and how can I trust your words to be true when you use magic to hide yourself?”

Pointedly walking past your double, Villid scans the woods for you, although you are certain that he does not see you. Quietly, although you do not fail to notice, several of his elves slink further back into the woods, beginning to circle around in a search pattern.

“Let us speak directly and plainly to one another, human, without further deception. You clearly believe that there is a great danger lurking beneath the fortress, though we have not seen much evidence to support that claim. A few brutish fiends lurking about in the darkness, perhaps, but nothing that could threaten our forces, let alone the entire world! If you wish me to guard against this threat, then I shall need further information. And if you wish me to believe your words, then I shall need to see you with my own eyes!”

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Nobody

"No. I'm not going to let them separate us a second time. Together, we are strong. Come on, Volesin. If you won't move I'll make you move!"

Using incredible strength he was just starting to remember how to use, he hoists Volesin up and beings carrying him as he starts after Katrina, waving for Lenora to follow.

[TechnOkami]

Rosenberg & Co... lots of Co.

Rosenberg and his two new companions made it to the dinner party in one piece, though with the general atmosphere of the event, he is almost wishing that something had come to distract him. However, he's here for a purpose, one he's going to convey to the entirety of this small gathering of city people. Hopefully they won't be too agitated by what he has to say.

A slight smirk crept up on Rosenerg's face with the other Werewolf's comment.

I know exactly what you mean...

As their parties began to seat themselves and Amelia planting herself between her guards (something that Rosenberg smiles slightly at again), he beckons over his new companions to sit next to him. If they're going to be bored, they might as well be bored together, at least until he says his bit.

Rosenberg stands up amongst the seated people, and announces them.

"Before this small feast turns into a food fight, I at least know something that few of you do."

Presumably, the attention of everyone at the table has been gathered, the servants still softly setting the table up and placing the hors d'oeuvre's, though they too secretly have a keen ear on the conversation as well.

"First, for those of you who don't know, my name is Rosenberg. I'm working as a bodyguard for Lady Ameila. However, as well as my current duty to the Countess, I am also a Druid, which is what brought me here originally."

If this didn't perk their interest, Rosenberg was confident his next piece of information would.

"Out in the forest, the elves worship elementals as Gods, to such an extent that they have forged a Nexus, a bridge between the world of these elementals and our world. My fellow Druids are preparing to meet here in this city for a direct assault on this Nexus. We have discovered that the elves are working under the strength of an Inferno Lord and the Fey, which is an issue for everyone. Everyone. It threatens the safety of this city, and the well being of Nature. That is why we are converging in this city for our own offensive. We are going either way, but we would appreciate any help your small city could offer us."

Rosenberg takes his seat once again, letting his words sink in and allowing the conversation to continue.

[GuyFawkes]

Noctis/Lucifuge

A smile crept up to Lucied's face which was echoed in the face of the Noctis clone standing before the elves. With nothing but a little effort from his mind, more copies of Noctis emerged, one near each of the other elves circling around that he could see, who began speaking the same words as soon as they appeared.

"Trust? You dare speak to me about trust, when you lay hiding behind bushes, a number of you, with weapons, while waiting for a single person? Please spare me your nonsense, elf," the words echoed through every image before they all vanished like dispersing fog at the same time.

While the images spoke, Lucied had silently made his way towards Aurewlynn and Villid and ended his invisibility spell, appearing before the elder elf in the same instant the images disappeared.

"It is best to have your men stand down before you start talking about having a direct and plain conversation, Tur Villid."

When the elf proceeded to do so, Lucied continued. "Better. Now allow me to introduce myself. I am called Noctis. I do not know how much Aurewlynn here has relayed to you, but let me start by saying that I am a member of the Order of the Dawn, a group that once held the fortress of Ironheart as home. It was a long time ago, before even the elves walked these lands. Now only I am left of the Order."

"I do not know if you have heard of the legends, but a long time ago, an ancient evil was trapped inside the bowels of the fortress. It was to stay so, but the destruction of the Order and recent events led to the weakening of the seals that keep this evil at bay. I am led to believe there are a few forces that try to do this."

"I am not sure if you have heard about the Battle of Narle, but I believe it had something to do with this ancient evil, or its release. What I am sure however, are that this evil's servants, the Fiend Lords, will make their move on the fortress any time soon. And when they do, it will be your people who will receive their blows. And I would not be surprised if the Fiend Lords themselves come to take their Lord. If that happens, you would not stand a chance. Each one of them is far more powerful than those elementals that you keep."

[Kasanip]

Lukina

Lukina felt a terrible feeling of sickness in her stomach.
"Wait... You mean to say, that you put a crystal like that inside of me. Inside of this body, as a host? That the woman named Lukina Marcellis isn't me. That to bring me back killed a different soul? That I'm not Genevieve reincarnated, but Genevieve who took this body? You didn't tell me that when you would return me you would kill someone else!"

She grabbed the sides of her head as the horror swelled and her perspective flipped. "What you're saying is that I am Lukina Marcellis, who has parts of Genevieve in me? That she-" She points at the frozen Ysora. "-is not my sister, even though we both think it, and I can remember it?"
"That the reason I am here now is because you chose it, not because of the Divine works, but the work of an evil being!?"

Lukina looked anguished and trembling, and then released the frustration she felt with a howling cry, her hair bleaching and the blue flames surrounded her intensely enough that a halo of light shimmered above her head.
She buried her face in her hands, and then forced her hands to her sides and looked at the fiend lord with a fierce glare.

"You gave me a life, but it's not the one either of us wanted, is it? I'm torn between thanking and cursing you! I was an archangel and now am a human. I was a human and now I'm trying to be an archangel! I'm standing between two times and two lives!" She looked up at the night sky with a cry, despite the frozen time.
"I wasn't supposed to survive, was I?" She looked back at Nihilus. "But I would have gladly died if I knew my goal was complete! I would have died for my children and for my Lady! I know that is true. The me who is now would agree of that and do it again!" And with that realization, Lukina knew that she was the same, if different. Every part of her agreed, whether it was brash and determined youth, or sharpened retainer of the Goddess.
The flames around her burned as she stepped forward and challenged the darkness.
"I am Lukina, the Champion of Miriam the Valkyrie! I'm not a coward who would run away from death!"
She stepped forward as close as she could to Nihilus.
"You were there. What did you tell me that convinced me to run away?" She held this tense moment, struggling not to draw Exshia and stab the deceitful enemy. Part of her resisted that, and that was both a surprise and troubling thought. But somehow she controlled herself.
The blue flames around her flickered and faded away as her thoughts seemed to work. "Was it all for this?"

She turned away with great effort in frustration, stepping away to look over the city with her hands on the rails. After a few moments of silence, she spoke, softer.
"Everyone keeps saying it. Something terrible is coming. The end of the world." She looked at Nihilus out of the corner of her eye.
"I know your name. Every part of me cries out to cut you down, fiend lord. I despair to think I allowed you to manipulate me. I don't know what you say is lies or truth.
I will go to the heavens. I will go and see my lady. And I will learn truth."
Her grip tightened on the rail, but she released it and turned back to Nihilus.
"I will repay my gift. If this is truly the end of our world, perhaps there may be something useful in the inscription- if it is there. But if you hurt any of my sisters... I will kill you."


(ooc: Of course thank you for the long post!

Spoiler

Show

Also many questions were thought about.
I don't know how long it is desired to continue conversation with Nihilus, but of afterward action, I think plan is (1) Go to heavens, meet Miriam and read inscription, (2) Return, afterward to tell Anders about Korram Alstan.

To be honest, it can't be known Lukina's choices after such a time (Go to hells with Ysora it seems like [Genevieve path], stay and help coming here man with refugees it seems like [Lukina path]) until to have heaven meeting. I think probably it is 3rd important moment of her character, after to meet Ysora, Nihilus, and then Miriam. At such a time, maybe combining of perspectives, so it can't be known the choice.

However, it isn't known well the time difference of such actions. For example, this time it is night before Anders goes to heavens. But time in heavens is slower than mortal world. Will Lukina go to heavens before Anders? Or to go after? Of course, also it could be wondered, to ask about children, if it should be to Anders or Miriam. Both situation is difficult moment. If to go to heavens first, to ask Miriam, of course.)

[Vegna]

Mal Harath

"Actually, it was mostly needless fighting for other people's sake, against rather good odds."

He returned the limp smile with a soft chuckle, as he ran his hands over his coarse head, breathing deeply at the wonder of how a Fiend Lord would take an interest in him and the future prospect of meeting his master's bane.

He began to move briskly back towards the light of the camp, his elven companion quickly keeping pace.

"We need to tell Master Vork and Val'Tosh about Terra. If we have a plan, maybe we could stop him without the technique, or even slow him down for Master to undo what ever he did in the first place."

***************

"And that's what he told us about Terra. If we're ready, I'm certain we could stop him, Master."

Mal spoke in hushed tones to his three friends, several strides from the main camp. He had shared most of the information Nihilus had given, except that on the ''technique'' and the monastery. That part had stayed anxiously silent, until this point. The Fiend Lord had been very frank and maybe had no reason to lie, Mal having never such a dubious honour before, but perhaps he wouldn't need to even learn the technique through such methods.

"And I think the best way to do that, is to know the technique that made him, Master."

[daelrog]

Alons had never heard such a thing as a nexus. He could say that there was little any common man could do against such a foe other than die and give the druids more time. He would to decide if he would go as well, but not now.

"You seem to understand your situation. This city will fall, you will die, sacrificed to the Elves' fire." He took a look around, his eyes settling on Amelia, and he offered a warm smile. "My Lady, as your protector I suggest we take flight from this place while we still can. Make our stand somewhere else. Surely there are better cities than this. If not, at least we will get to enjoy life, even if only for a bit longer."

His smile grew as he turned to the city's leaders. "Unfortunately, my Lady will deny me, she is of the stubborn, noble kind, and all the more beautiful for it." He leaned towards them. "We cannot make Amaranth what it is not, it will never be a properly defended city until it is torn down, and rebuilt. However, there are ways to make the enemy pay for every foot of land they cross, ways to make their victory costly. It will buy the rest of this kingdom time, and we may end this war by killing enough of them before they slaughter us."

[Dorizzit]

Korram Alstan

Korram leans back and listens to Liberator's rebuttal of his statements. He does not react, impassively allowing Liberator to finish speaking. Then he nods.

"First, I apologize for speaking as harshly as I did, but I needed to get your measure, and I wanted to see your response. Second, I lied, earlier. I did want to help the other people under the False Baron's foot, and if I had, through some miracle, succeeded in my efforts, I likely would have looked beyond the barony's borders. But my own revenge was the reason I started to rebel, and it was the fire that kept me going until I was captured. The need for revenge corrupted my motives, and it brought pain and destruction down on everything that mattered to me. I believe that your goals are honest and that you want to help the people of the kingdom. Just be sure not to mistake justice for vengeance. Do not judge Rose for the actions of her predecessors."

Korram's eyes narrow slightly, and his voice takes on an edge.

"And do not get the wrong idea about myself and the Countess. She is a close friend, and I owe her a great debt; these I acknowledge. But there is nothing more. My loyalty is to my family. For any other faults I may have, disloyalty is not one of them."

He relaxes again.

"You can take my advice, or you can ignore it, but it is honest. Anyway, I would be happy to carry your letter for you, and I will recommend they give you their support. I may be able to exert some influence, but we'll see. And if you are able to spare the transport, I would appreciate it; time is of the essence."

[TechnOkami]

Rosenberg, Master Diplomat

Plainly, Rosenberg looks towards Alons.

"You think it's wiser if we stay here and hold our ground? Until when? Even if we do, that Nexus will remain open. Unless we acquire more forces than the Druids and this town's guards, I doubt holding them off is an option. Even then, I would rather go to the Nexus and stop it. The elves may stop arriving, but there will be a swath of fire elementals with their Inferno Lord leading the way by the time we're done dealing with the Elves."

Frustrated, Rosenberg leans back into his chair. With little else to do, he reaches into his clothes to pull out the long stemmed pipe, packing it and lighting it. Inhale, exhale, smoke.

"I wish the Elves would listen to reason, but no, they have to go on their little revenge killing spree for years of getting the short end of the stick."

He took one last puff.

"Damnit."

[daelrog]

Alons shrugged his shoulders. "If you wish to convince these fine people to abandon their wall, feel free to do so. Personally, I have doubts what the common soldier could do other than provide a distraction, though perhaps that is what you intend them for, yes?"

[OverWilliam]

~Tamerlane

Brilliant.

Tamerlane dropped to a cross-legged sit on the building's roof, frustrated at Nihlus and needing to think.

Ok. There has to be a solution. Tamerlane passed the little pouch from the ocean pillar back and forth between his hands. Well... I found Melcara. Somehow. The thought seemed to have some merit to it. How had that happened, exactly...? Well, however he'd done it then by accident, he needed to repeat the trick now on purpose.

After a little while of thinking, Tamerlane decided that the thing that had drawn him to her was the connection that had grown between them over the days prior. It was not very strong given the short time that it'd had to develop, which is why it had not functioned until he had passed by her very grave, but the connection had been there. Oddly, thinking about it gave him a sense of calm that helped him continue thinking.

And... when he had drawn her out of her adamantine prison, it had been her connection to the Hells that let him travel through another plane to pull her through. Was there a name for these "connections," these threads that linked things and places and beings together? Whatever they were, Tamerlane could sense that they were the key to finding his hidden quarry.

Even back to the Hells when he had escaped from them the very first time, it was because of the connection forged between that spot and the mortal world by the ritual in Angel's blood set up by the Baron and his men. That connection was much stronger, because it had been constructed deliberately and then amplified by the use of the Angel's blood.

So... what, then, to connect through? ...Maybe the pouch in his hand was similar to the one he was searching for? Perhaps they were made at the same time, from the same materials? By the same craftsman?

Tamerlane held the pouch steady in his Right hand and began to concentrate on it. Immediately, he sensed a hundred silver threads explode from the pouch, glowing in his mind's eye with its connection to a hundred other things. Startled at first, Tamerlane scrambled to control his senses-- to sharpen them and refine narrow his search. Deliberately, he walled away the interference of whatever was inside the pouch. It was easier to do since he didn't even know what the contents were. At the back of his mind a hundred images and sensations flickered, feeding back through the connections; he caught glimpses of a dozen places where the pouch had been before it was a pouch. He hinted flickers of the time, skill, and energy that had been devoted in the thing's making. It was like a dull, resonant thrum through the object-- but too distant to determine details.

While elated that his intuition had led him in a productive direction, Tamerlane reminded himself that this did not find him the other pouch just yet.

In a moment of inspiration, Tamerlane leapt down from the rooftop (too engaged at the moment to notice the height of his fall and how effortless his landing had been) and reached down to touch the cobblestones of the road beneath him. These stones had lain together since the City was founded, growing close together by their common purpose. It was a simple matter to knock one of the smaller ones loose (a rock about the size of his fist). With a quick check, Tamerlane confirmed that the little stone was connected to just about every other stone in the city-- Tamerlane was momentarily disoriented by the sheer number of them, but found in a few moments more that he could very nearly print a complete map of the city in his mind based on the connections to this single stone.

Tamerlane suspected that Nihlus' sense of humor would prompt him to hide the pouch somewhere where it would be "seen" constantly, but never known for what it was; a high-traffic area, most likely, given the Demon's suggestion that Tamerlane find it before the curfew lifted. Tamerlane sprinted off through the streets, headed toward the nearest such location.

The City Square was actually more of a circle; and at its center waited a large fountain. Tamerlane scaled it in a few leaps, and perched on its pinnacle. With the pouch in one hand and the cobblestone in the other, Tamerlane crossed the webs of their million connections together-- and looked carefully for overlaps.

There were only two that met his investigation. One of them, the stronger of the two interactions, was not too far away. In fact, it was probably only about a block or two from where he stood, no doubt in the middle of another normally high-traffic intersection of lanes. Tamerlane grinned, the fiendish side of his face splitting almost to the ear with jagged teeth curved upward in elation.

(((Tamerlane will travel straight to the location and search for the pouch.)))

[Baerdog7]

Speaker Ander Windrivver

"Ander . . .? W-where . . . am . . . I?"

Ander stops, momentarily surprised, until he realizes the weak voice was coming from Morganna's soul crystal. He quickly steps off the road and into the shade of a towering elm tree.

Morganna, is that you? We're in Heaven. I found Project Revenant...

There's a lot I wish I could ask you. Tell me how to get you out of that crystal.

**********

After his speech, Ander gazes over the dwindling crowd. All things considered, his speech had gone pretty well. Nobody had shouted accusations of blasphemy at him and he was shocked that so many had stayed behind to discuss and prepare.

And then, in a flash, someone stole his thunder.

Well this is different...

He listen's to the newcomer and, unable to stop her, watches as Melissan flies away in an emotional fit just like Ysora had done when she heard the news about Hephestia. This was becoming vexing. Shooting Belroar a look that seems to say "behave yourself," the trio make their way to the dwarf's workshop.

Redeemer, eh? Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why are you here? Why now and not months ago during the Battle of Narle? Pardon my bluntness, but what changed to get Athelion off of his divine arse and actually do something? Wouldn't it have been easier if Miriam had just made more angels?

He shakes his head.

Sorry. I'm glad to have another ally on my team and whatever the reason. As for the archangels, Ysora remains in Luxien for now but she'll be joining me in Hell. Miriam turned Hephestia human after the Battle of Narle for her disloyalty. She was captured during Nihlus' attack and taken back with them. Marisiel's location is still unknown. I have reason to believe her soul was in Ironheart but since the Escape I've heard nothing of her whereabouts. And Genevieve...she's returned in the body of a young farm girl.

After a short while, they arrive at Belroar's workshop and the dwarf proudly presents Ander with his newly-refurbished armor.

Belroar, you've outdone yourself! Ander exclaims, wasting no time in getting suited up. Before leaving, he pulls Belroar aside, out of earshot of Redeemer.

Can you keep an eye on things up here for me? With the invasions, my speech, and now these einherjar things are definitely not business as usual. If you can, find out more about the einherjar. They seem a little too good to be true and this kind of overt action is definitely not how Athelion usually operates. If you do find out something, send an angel down to Luxien. If I'm not available, Winril and Tyra can be trusted.

Ander takes a long look at his friend for what may be the last time and pulls him in for a hearty embrace.

You're a true friend, Belroar. If we don't see each other again, drink a pint for me at the end of the world.

His business concluded, Ander rejoins Redeemer outside the shop and starts walking toward a church where he can perform the ritual to return to Luxien.

I hope you're not just programmed for fighting fiends. We've got a siege to break before we can go down to Hell.

[Lonna]

The Pyria Cycle

Jacqueline stepped closer to Wulfric protectively as Titania dismissed Dariel's physical form, feeling a stab of emotion somewhere between pity, disgust, and fear as she watched the former huntsman return to simple ball of light. Is that what a soul looks like?

Then Titania dismissed Wulfric, giving Jacqueline only her word that he was safe, again. The emotion she felt this time was much more easily recognizable, though she allowed only the barest hint of it to show on her face - rage. She might claim Jacqueline was her daughter, but Titania showed little sign of understanding that a child was not a perfect copy of personality and desires. That would have to change, and soon.

Before she could think better of the idea, Jacqueline sat down on the ice, gently tugging little Mar down beside her. Laying one hand on the girl's frostbitten feet, she carefully nudged part of her power to supplement and accelerate their healing process, leaving one part of her mind to that task while she focused once more on Titania's story.

[WhiteKnight777]

Umber

Umber gave Nihilus a slight smile. He should probably be panicking, too. But then, considering he'd already made one magnificently poor decision today, what matter? Besides, death had proved unexpectedly interesting. Maybe dying again would be the same.

Morbid ruminations aside, Umber wasn't about to just let Marialta win. He wasn't especially surprised by the tactic - after all, he'd tried the same thing earlier. "She used to be a lot more original with her tactics. Then again, she never had access to time travel, back when she was who she was." Umber frowned. "My real question is how Marialta convinced herself to... do whatever she's currently doing. But we can find out for ourselves, I suppose."

Umber headed out of the room, heading for the corridor. "As for your question... well, naturally. Fianna, Kartul and I were the ones who wove the protective enchantments around the room, after all." The question was, what would they find when they got there, and how would they handle it.

Still, Umber was thinking about Fianna, rather than her sister. If what he'd done worked, what would happen to him? Would he cease to exist, replaced by a different version of himself, with a different life? Perhaps. The possibility had occurred to him.

Still, if it saved Fianna the fate that awaited her - and if it let that other Umber spend his life with her, however long it might be, Umber thought it might be worth it. After all, there was no garuntee that he would be able to return to his own time anyway. And he'd lived his life based on the idea that some things were worth the risk. Otherwise... well, it wasn't really living, was it?

[Inspectre]

The Heavens

Baerdog7

Even through the tenuous mental connection, or however it was that Morganna was able to communicate outside of the soul crystal now, you can sense her laughter.

“You can’t, that was the entire point. Rather than condemn my sisters to eternal torment at the hands of the fiends, these crystals were meant to imprison their souls and allow them to slumber forever. How I am even aware in this state, I do not know. Clearly the Heavens are able to strengthen my connection to the outside world somehow . . . I can’t say that it’s exactly a pleasant experience, being a bodyless consciousness. I think I’d rather sleep forever than listen to whatever sort of lecture Miriam would have for me – that *was* why I had a soul crystal implanted in myself, after all. But I suppose I can’t stop you from dragging me before Miriam after all, can I? Is that what you’re here for? What happened to the Baron?”

************************

Redeemer listens to your questions, and then tilts his helmeted head at an angle.

“Hmmm. This Battle of Narle – when was that? I’ve heard others up here mention it, but since time doesn’t have any meaning here, it’s . . . hard to figure out the order of events down on the mortal plane. I want to say that I was alive and well down on the mortal plane before the Battle, but some of my memories are . . . hazy.”

Redeemer seems troubled by the thought that his memory might be faulty, but then he shrugs and presses onward.

“In any event, that would be why I was not present at the Battle in my current form. As for why Athelion did not interfere until now, He did not share his reasoning with me. But He said that it was His time now, and after the loss of Her daughters . . . Miriam is not well. Until She is ready to protect Humanity again, we must protect ourselves, and Athelion is willing to give us the resources to do so. I’m not going to question Him further if His assistance means I have a chance to keep my promise!”

Redeemer listens to you grimly as you describe the various archangels fates, although he reacts (predictably) with the most shock to Genevieve’s return.

“That is wonderful news! About Genevieve, that is . . . why didn’t you bring her with you? I’m sure a reunion with her would lift Miriam’s spirits!”

Belroar returns your embrace, and gives you one final slap on the back as he leans in close.

“I’ll keep an eye up here. You keep a close eye on your new best friend. I don’t like Miriam, but at least after talking with Her I knew She was a tyrant. I still can’t figure out what Athelion’s game in all this is, sitting back and letting His wife do all the work. And now He’s just up and decided to help Her out, while all the angels are imprisoned? You’re just about the last piece Miriam has on the board, old friend. Watch your back.”

Now armored once again, you walk back to a small chapel where you could return to the mortal plane, Redeemer in tow. At your question, Redeemer nods his head.

“No, I will oppose evil wherever I find it. It seems to take on many forms – the fiends are just the most overt.”

As you continue down the street, you find Lukina coming the other way! Redeemer stops to stare at her.

“Something about her . . . isn’t quite right.”

The Hells

The Mire of Desolation

Archpaladin Zousha

Volesin is nearly catatonic as you hoist him up to his feet and half drag, half carry him up the stairs. Lenora follows right behind you, periodically stopping to look back behind you. You don’t have far to go to find Katrina, as she appears to have stopped only a few feet away from the stairs. She is kneeling down on the floor and is clearly suffering from some sort of music-influenced delusion as she repeatedly punches the floor beneath her, hard enough to split her knuckles open. She spits out a completely incoherent stream of profanity, insults, adjectives, and nouns the entire time – but you can gather that whoever she was seeing was someone that she harbored a very deep hatred for. As you approach, she leaps up to her feet and whirls with a snarl.

“You can’t get away from me you bastard! After I pluck out your other eye, I’m going to feed it to you!”

Katrina screams as she lunges at you, evidentially replacing the imaginary figure on the floor with you. Fortunately her blind rage throws her off a step, and pummeling the floorboards before you arrived has also tired her. You are also, no surprise, much stronger than her, and so once you manage to enter a grapple with her the outcome is rather foregone. Reflexively, your skin also changes as it had before, hardening and rendering the few blows that Katrina does land ineffective – apparently your skin is not just able to camouflage you. Even after you have her pinned against a nearby wall, it takes a full minute before Katrina finally relaxes and seems to come to. She’s still not fully cured of her delusion, however.

“Hey!? What are you doing? Where’d he go!? He’s getting away! Cheran is getting away! ! GET OFF ME!!!”

Katrina, despite being aware of her surroundings again, begins struggling even more ferociously than she had been when she thought you were this “Cheran” fellow. When you are forced to let go of her out of fear of injuring her, she doesn’t take a swing at you though, implying that her latest episode was panic, rather than rage, induced. Now that you weren’t in danger of being punched out by one of your friends, you are able to look around to see that you are in a long hallway. Doorways line the hallway at irregular intervals on the left and right, but none of them seem distinct relative to each other. What is distinct, however, is the sound of a violin and a female voice softly singing – now no longer snippets carried on the wind like a teeth-grating hum, but very clear and very close.

Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ufnoiz4ZCOw

So close, in fact, that when you approach the nearest doorway on the left, you look through it to find the music’s source – a young girl seated on a balcony at the far end of the room. She is filthy, clad in rags, and her hair is long black tangles that obscure most of her face save for a porcelain nose. Cradled expertly in her hands is an ebon black violin of obvious quality, which she plays with total focus. At least until she senses you, and turns her head to look at you with bloodshot eyes through an obscuring curtain of oily hair. She tumbles out of the chair and scrambles backwards across the floor like a crab, pressing herself into the farthest corner of the balcony and holding her violin protectively in front of her like a shield. The silence that reigns over the room now is monumental and deeply refreshing. A few moments later, that silence is broken by the girl croaking at you, her speaking voice containing none of the smoothness of her singing voice.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

The Mortal Realm

The Monument of Narle

Dorizzit

Liberator listens to your words respectfully and quietly, as he has done throughout the meeting. He does seem to hesitate when you mention Rose again . . . he knows something, but whatever it is he’s playing it close to the chest. At your anger over the implication that your relationship with the Countess was anything more than friendship, Liberator held up a hand.

“Forgive me. I have been listening to too many of the bards then – there are many songs about the infamous Korram Alstan now. All of which are untrue or at least exaggerations, of course, but it is hard to deny that there might not be some small kernel of truth there. You *did* assault the Baron during the middle of his son’s wedding, after all, killing him and making off with his bride. Some would see that as a confirmation of a romantic attachment. I am willing to believe, however, that such things are in fact an attempt to impinge upon the Countess’s honor and humiliate her, in one of the endlessly tiresome games that the nobles play against each other. In any event, I do have to ask one additional question to that – why do you see such a possible relationship as disloyalty? Your wife died many years ago by all accounts, and while uncommon, some men do take another wife after their first passes.”

Finally concluding your meeting, you can see that Liberator is smiling behind his mask as he hands you the sealed letter, and offers his other hand to you in friendship.

“Thank you very much! I was worried when this conversation began that perhaps you were not the hero of the people that I had thought, but I see now that our perspectives and methodologies are merely different. You are still a defender of the common man, and for that you have my gratitude and respect. Now come – let me show you to your ride!”

An hour later, you are soaring through the sky on the back of a griffon, although perhaps desperately clinging to its back while it did what it wanted was more accurate. The beast was trained enough to respond to your directions, but it clearly still had a mind of its own and seemed to be aware that you weren’t comfortable with the fact that falling off its back would mean a speedy return to the Heavens for you now that you couldn’t just regrow any shattered bones. But the two of you managed, even after the griffon dove down onto a deer with no warning to fetch its own dinner. Seeing this as a good time to stop yourself, you set out the bedroll that you had been provided with.

By your recollection of maps of the kingdom and your own recognition of landmarks, you should be able to complete the journey to Luxien in another few days rather than the several weeks it would take you on foot. Unfortunately due to being unable to make out landmarks during the night, you would have to wait until dawn tomorrow to continue. You also imagine that while you don’t need sleep, the griffon would start getting cranky without regular rest. Fortunately you hadn’t yet gotten used to the Heavens’ lack of sleep, or you would have had to stare at a fire or a rock for ten hours. Instead, you quickly drift off to sleep . . . and find a familiar nightmarish scene in front of you.

Around you, Callaway is burning. No one is present, not even bodies. Following the typical dream logic, the fires are blazing all around you and yet you have no trouble breathing nor even feel particularly hot. Before you can set out to explore the burning town in an attempt to find a way through the flames, a wick of flame leaps off the side of a building and hangs in mid-air before you. A familiar voice echos out from the flick of flame.

“You’ve got serious problems now, my friend.”

Calcifer cracks from within the wick of flame.

“I don’t know what you’ve been up to all this time since we parted ways, but I thought I owed you at least a warning – the Elementals Courts are all riled up. Our old friend Infernas has worked out a deal with the elves to summon a great host of fire elementals out of that Nexus that we encountered him at. But it’s a whole lot worse than that . . . there’s talk that the entire barrier between our worlds will soon be torn down, allowing the elementals to mingle freely with humans once again. I shouldn’t have to tell you how bad that would be for you. And while I’m not a huge fan of the mortal realm, it’s different and I can appreciate that. Enough that I’m willing to strain myself to make this connection into your little meat brain. You’re the only human I’ve been able to contact yet – I guess all that time I spent pulling your flesh back together was worthwhile after all! So yeah . . . you need to do something about this, or get someone else if you’re busy. Oh yeah – you ever figure out that Kris was your daughter? I didn’t want to say anything at the time out of respect, but surely you’re not so thick as to still have not made that connection, right?”

The Seashore

OverWilliam

The realization that you can examine the history and future of objects as well as people is a startling one, although for the moment not something that you can dwell on. Instead you set out, following the strands of connections between the innumerable cobblestones in the city and the pouch in your hand. Coming to a fountain in the center of the town square, you can feel that you are getting close. The next intersection a block from here should be the end point of the connection strand you are following. Sticking instinctually to the shadows as you go, you emerge from the alley leading into the next intersection only to immediately duck back into it – someone’s coming.

You watch as a woman with long blond hair and clad in a long flame-colored dress, accompanied by two men (Daelrog’s & Technokami’s characters – see? I let you SEE a PC! ), walks up to the large manor that dominates one part of the plaza. Judging by the size and location of the manor, you would guess that this is the mayor’s residence, which implies whoever these people are, they are important. A small party of other people is waiting for them, and after the woman and her escorts join up they all go through a gate leading into a small courtyard next to the manor.

Now that the square is empty, you are able to move freely out into the open and follow the strand to its end point – a single featureless cobblestone sitting amongst a sea of identical brothers. You manage to pry the stone loose after a moment of effort, and find what you are looking for – a small leather pouch that is holding . . . something. Judging by the textile feel of it, this pouch is similar to the first in that it is holding something small, angular, and hard. Before you can conduct a further examination, you hear a soft sound from behind you – clapping. Turning reveals that Nihilus is standing a few feet away from you, applauding your latest efforts.

“Not bad, boy. Not bad at all.”

Nihilus says, looking at the still dark horizon.

“You figured out how to find it in relatively short order. You can tell me all about what you learned in the process later. Right now, it’s time for us to go.”

With a casualness that belied the incredible nature of what he was doing, Nihilus tears open yet another portal and steps through it. Since it seemed certain that he would just come back for you if you tried to linger, you press on through the portal after him. You emerge inside a large featureless room, the bare metal walls, floor, and ceiling threateningly stark – something about their plainness screamed danger to you. On the far side of the room is a metal pedestal rising up out of the floor to support a black metal cube, festooned with an absolutely ridiculous number of locks.

There are no windows, and the only light is provided by Nihilus, one of his gloved hands held up outstretched, cradling a summoned ball of glowing energy. Though you don’t need to breathe, the air inside this place is thin and stale. For just a moment, you are struck by the thought that if this was the size of a coffin instead of a gigantic chamber, you would be in exactly the same situation as Melcara was after she was captured by the Inquisitors. As if sensing your thoughts, Nihilus speaks up in a jovial tone.

“Well, now that you’ve gotten a look at your surroundings, I can tell you that we’re about three miles beneath the surface of the earth. I hallowed this place out one foot at a time, and then reinforced it with adamantite paneling. We’re in no danger of being crushed – or at least I should say, I am in no danger of being crushed.”

Nihilus gestures at your feet, pointing out that you are both standing inside of a small painted circle on the floor.

“This is the only safe place in this chamber. Move anywhere else in it – yes, even along the walls and ceiling – and you’re in danger of being impaled, crushed, electrocuted, cut, shot . . . I’m pretty sure I don’t even remember all of the excruciating ways I set up for someone to die in here. Welcome to your final test!”

Nihilus takes the two leather pouches out of your hands.

“Now then, I will take these – and you will go fetch the last one, which is inside that metal box. It’s made of the same material as the walls of Ironheart, so I wouldn’t try to stick my hand through it – at least, not while half a dozen traps are coming my way. Succeed, and I will stop testing you for the moment and we can move on to a . . . less structured . . . teaching environment. Fail, and you will find yourself back in the Hells faster than you can blink – though I probably will come find you again eventually. Either way, I’m sure it’s going to be most entertaining . . . for me!”

Nihilus says cheerily as he motions towards the ominous black box, which is apparently surrounded by an entire army of deadly traps that you can’t see.

“Begin!”

The Woods Outside Silverstream

Vegna

At your suggestion, Elise nods and the two of you return to camp. Once there, you rouse Val’Tosh who is still sound asleep, and collect Master Vork who is standing guard. At your suggestion, Vork’s clone is quiet for a long moment, and then he sighs.

“I do not know the Ultimate Technique. That is a secret only the real Master Vork knows. The risk that Terra might overpower one of his clones and gleam the knowledge from its mind was too great.”

“Well, that sucks. I guess we’ll have to go talk to the real Master Vork then!”

Val’Tosh grumbles, prompting another headshake from Master Vork.

“The risk that Terra might overpower one of his clones and gleam the knowledge of his location was –“

“Too great, so none of his clones know. Wonderful!”

Elise concludes for your master’s clone, snorting in disbelief.

“I hate to say it Master, but the past three days have unraveled thirty years of respect and admiration I held for you. You are an idiot!”

Master Vork blinks at this sudden outburst for a moment, and then hangs his head.

“Yes . . . yes, I can see why you would feel that way. I have made a number of mistakes over the years, each one compounding upon the others.”

Master Vork looks up and frowns.

“But simple recriminations over them will profit us nothing! I have spent a lot more than thirty years attempting to contain Terra by keeping the Ultimate Technique from him. Without it, he is still just a very skilled, very powerful, individual. With it, he is his own army – a force that could threaten the entire world if he wished it! Any precaution, no matter how inconvenient or foolish, is worth enacting for that!”

Master Vork is silent for a moment, and then smiles.

“Besides, while I may not know where the original Vork is, I have an idea how to contact him. It will require preparation and materials, however, that we do not have available to us at the moment. Once we escape from this ambush that Terra is laying, then we can focus our attention on contacting the real me.”

“Okay, and how are we going to do that?”

“Well, he doesn’t know that we know he will be lying in wait for us. And given that I rather doubt Terra has changed much over the years, he’s likely to still be as supremely arrogant as ever. Do you know if he is aware that you and Val’Tosh have met up with Elise and me, or is he just expecting the two of you? Furthermore, we are not heading to Luxien by accident – it is the home of an army of paladins. While I don’t know if they have the resources to deal with a creature like Terra, they may be willing to provide us with further aid should we ask it of them.”

Elise thinks for a moment and frowns.

“So what you’re saying is . . . Mal and the ogre play bait while you and I go alert the paladins that there is an incredibly dangerous elemental construct about to run amok inside their city?

“No, I’m saying that you go request aid from the paladins, Mal & Val’Tosh hold Terra’s attention, while I gather up the necessary materials for the next phase of our plan. Then the paladins keep Terra busy long enough for us to withdraw and leave the city.”

“Sic our arch enemy on a bunch of paladins and then run away doesn’t sound like a very nice thing to do, Master.”

Val’Tosh grumbled, and Master Vork nodded.

“Indeed, it is not. But Terra has no interest in the paladins – they have nothing he wants. Once it becomes clear that we have left the field of battle, he will likewise withdraw to chase after us.”

“Or throw a temper tantrum and destroy the entire city?”

Val’Tosh presses, causing Master Vork to sigh.

“I suppose that is another possible outcome, however unlikely. Do you have any objections, Mal? Given that my other two students seem to have lost their faith in me, have you as well?”

Luxien, The Cathedral City

Kasanip

OOC

Spoiler

Show

For the sake of coordination, I tend to have everyone move at the speed of the plot. While time obviously does pass, somehow conveniently people still manage to meet up if necessary. It can be assumed that both Genevieve and Ander leave for the Heavens the next morning, and that they simply go different ways until they happen to meet up again. And certainly, you do not need to try and do everything that was suggested – they are meant to be different paths to allow you a choice of what Genevieve wants to focus on. Please let me know if there is something else you would like to see – I certainly don’t want you to feel that Genevieve is forced to go a given direction!

As a nimbus of holy flame surrounds you, Nihilus recoils, retreating until his back is firmly against the railing of the balcony. It is clear that he is both horrified and confused, although seemingly not about your reaction to being told that your rebirth came at the cost of another life and by the hands of a Fiend Lord.

“What . . . h-how did you?”

Nihilus stammers, as you unleash your anger in a torrent of words, striding towards him until you are standing directly in front of him, almost nose to masked nose. Unable to retreat any further back due to the railing, Nihilus merely flinches as you question him. You manage to control the desire to physically attack him, and the blue flame fades as your initial outburst of rage also drains away. Now more frustrated rather than angry, you turn away from him and stand at the railing next to him, looking down on the sleeping city that was still nursing its wounds from the fiends’ attack. From the corner of your eye, you see Nihilus raise a hand, as if he was going to reach out to touch you. He stops with the hand half-raised, pauses a moment, and then lets the hand drop. When you continue speaking in a softer but no less bitter tone, Nihilus listens silently. When you finally turn back to face him and deliver your last promise, Nihilus bows his head.

“I . . . am sorry. I had thought that giving you another chance at life was something that you would appreciate, and that you deserved. If it makes you feel any better . . . Lukina wasn’t long for this world anyway.”

Nihilus continues, his tone flat and emotionless.

“A few months from now, a group of bandits would begin preying on travelers coming along the nearby roads. Lukina would be part of the volunteers that the militia raised to deal with them. During the skirmish that would escalate to the final battle between the militia and bandits, she would lead the charge to chase down the remaining bandits before they could fade into the woods as they had before. She takes an arrow to the heart for her trouble, but the militia runs down the last of the bandits, killing or arresting them. That was how I knew she would be a compatible host for your soul – you’re both so eager to martyr yourselves!”

Nihilus’s tone is still soft, but full of emotion now as he argues with you.

“Yes, always so eager to be the brave one that makes the ultimate sacrifice! Has it never occurred to you that the world might be a better place with you still in it!? That the value of your life is greater than what you purchase with it!? You wanted to know what it was that I said to you that convinced you to accept my deal.”

Nihilus sighs, the passion going out of him as he whispers the answer.

“I told you . . . I told you that you could see your children again. That they needed you, and Uther needed your help in raising them. That you could be there to watch them grow up, and play a crucial part in their lives. It was a lie, and I knew it as I told it, because even if I could have brought you back then I would not wish you to see what happened to them. No mother should ever be put through something like that, and although you may not agree with my actions, they are not meant to be cruel.”

Nihilus pauses a moment in thought, and then sighs again as he turns away from you.

“Though, perhaps, cruelty is the only true outcome of my actions. I have not saved the world, and indeed have darkened its final days. But I will not stop.”

Nihilus whirls back to face you, his voice strengthening with every word.

“I will not stop! I will not let all of the hard choices I have made amount to nothing! I will not let further tragedy and misery be the only things I managed to accomplish! Use your gift however you wish, Champion, but know that if it meant this world survived, I would tear your sisters’ souls apart with my bare hands! And if that makes us enemies, THEN SO BE IT!”

In a single motion Nihilus furiously tears open a portal and steps through it, leaving you alone on the balcony. As he disappears, time snaps back to normal, confirmed when Ysora breathes and turns to look at you with sudden concern.

“Sister, are you alright!? You are suddenly very pale.”

(If you have anything else to say to Ysora – or Nihilus’s retreating back for that matter – feel free to post it in your response! For now, I’m moving things along. )

As you part ways with Ysora for the night, she mentions that a room has been set up for you for the night. Having slept in tents or out on the open ground for most of your travel to Luxien, the thought of a warm bed was tempting. On the other hand, did that mean someone else did not have a bed for tonight?

Whether you sleep in a warm bed or on the hard ground tonight, your sleep is not a restful one. Your dreams are dark, varied, and disturbing. One has Nihilus pulling aside the cloth mask covering his face to reveal the face of the Herald, who laughs as he informs you that he was merely saving part of you for later. Another has you standing on the far edge of a canyon, with Miriam standing on the other side. No matter how loudly you shout to Her, She either does not hear you or refuses to acknowledge you. And the last is perhaps the worst, with you finding yourself locked in a glass coffin as it is lowered into the grou
. Despite being able to see through the glass and watch as Uther, a young boy and girl, and Nihilus stand around the grave openly mourning as they prepare to bury you. Despite the fact that you can see them, they apparently cannot see you, nor hear you as you bang on the lid which resists your every attempt to break it. As the first handful of dirt falls onto the lid of the coffin, you snap awake to find that the sun is just beginning to rise.

After breakfast, you meet back up with Ysora. The Teacher summons a brightly glowing portal, through which you can see a shining city that is even more brightly lit than what morning on the mortal plane can provide. Ysora shakes her head and steps back.

“I will not return with you, sister. Not yet. But I will wait here for you, and make sure that Ander does not leave without you.”

Missing Ander, as it turns out, will not be a problem as shortly after you venture through the portal and into the Heavenly City, you find Ander walking down a street, accompanied by something you had never seen before – a male human in plate armor . . . with angelic wings. Angelic humans were certainly something that hadn’t existed in the time of Genevieve! It was the angels’ purpose to protect humanity . . . perhaps it was the loss of all your sisters to the Hells, but something had clearly changed now if the humans were being empowered to fight for themselves. Something that struck you as very, very wrong.


Phaedra

The_Snark/Lonna

The shadows dance and then brighten slightly, as they return to showing an unconscious Titania lying on the Great Seal. With a gasped scream, the queen sits bolt upright, black oil beginning to ooze out of her eye sockets and nostrils. Twisting to one side, she retches out a stream of liquid corruption that does not abate for nearly a minute. Still coughing and wheezing, Titania manages to force herself up onto her hands and knees, and for a moment seems as if she is going to vomit again before finally catching her breath. Wiping at her mouth and eyes with one hand, Titania looks up and her eyes narrow as she notices something on one of the chamber’s walls. Strangely, the etching is rather faint, as if the passage of years has already partly worn it away.

All things must end, even the reign of the gods. Watch then for these signs that will usher in a new era, the reign of the Certain King.

Those created by the gods and of the gods shall be created to exist in Harmony. But the Harmony will be shattered, broken by One who will lead the heirs of the gods to embrace their destiny. Discord and Inequality will follow, leading to Ambition and Desire, and culminating in the rise of the Certain King.

But before the Certain King sits upon the Throne of Athelion in judgment, the world shall cry out as it is split in twain. As their world is divided, so too shall be the gods and their heirs, both Within and Without. Their Balance Destroyed, the Scales of Fate shall settle anew, leading to only two possible outcomes.

What was driven apart shall try to rejoin, with Violence being the only possible outcome. The Scales of Fate will tip, leading one side to Fall, and the other side to Rise. The Shattered One will be thrown down beneath the Throne, there to remain until the coming of the Certain King.

It is from these seeds that the world’s destruction shall spring. All has been foreseen. Nothing can be averted.

Titania’s eyes scan down the block of barely legible script, and a hard look comes into her eyes as she pushes herself up onto trembling legs.

“You will never escape from your prison, father! You may have devised a way to thwart the seals that bind you now, but I shall add one more! Let’s see your damn pawn save you from that!”

Ribbons of arcane energy lash out from Titania’s palms, tracing the countless runes etched into the surface of the Great Seal. Above it, a new seal begins to form as runes made of golden light begin to appear one by one. Within a few minutes a new seal has been created, which sinks down into the Great Seal itself. The adamantite plates that make up the Great Seal are imbued with a golden glow for several moments, and then it fades, leaving the Great Seal looking exactly as it had before. Titania falls to her knees, retching up more black bile as dark veins begin to reappear, spreading down towards her abdomen.

“No no no!”

Titania wheezes, summoning more arcane power as she reaches a hand down to touch her abdomen.

“You . . . can not . . . have her! If her body . . . is a soulless void . . . then I shall . . . fill it . . . with part of my own soul! And your . . . corruption . . . I will t-take . . . into . . . myself!”

Titania’s entire body locks up a moment later, and she screams as a torrent of arcane energy races through her. Though the changes are all internal and thus nothing visibly changes on the outside, the Titania that stands back up a long minute later holds herself very differently. She raises a hand and wipes away the black bile that had dribbled down her chin, and then begins to limp back towards the stairs. Just as she is almost to them, Dacian appears from the darkness further up the stairs with a wordless howl of rage.

“Insolent brat! Do you think that the Master’s will is so easily defied!?”

Dacian growls as he leaps at Titania, drawing the Duskblade from its sheath at his waist as he does so. Titania gestures, and her eyes and nose begin to leak black fluid as Dacian is caught in mid-leap by a gust of wind, sending him crashing into the ceiling and holding him there.

“You dare speak of betrayal!? YOU!? Well if you wish to serve your new Master so gladly, then allow me to bring you closer together!”

Titania shrieks before vomiting up more black bile. This time, however, instead of dripping down onto the floor, the bile is caught by the wind and carried upward, collecting on Dacian. With a mind of its own, the black bile begins to react, oozing along Dacian’s body until it reaches the scar running down his arm, the old injury inflicted by the Herald of Azguloth and source of his corruption. The previously healed wound splits back open at the black bile’s touch, welcoming it into the former avatar’s body. Dacian screams as more and more of the bile oozes into his body, which rapidly grows and becomes deformed – whether some sort of magical curse inflicted by Titania or a consequence of absorbing so much liquid corruption, you cannot say. Finally, Dacian is a gelatinous mass of flesh hanging from the ceiling above the Seal that imprisons his master, and Titania ceases her assault.

Wiping her mouth clean one last time, Titania staggers out of the chamber, all the way out of Ironheart, and teleports back to her bed chambers in Phaedra’s palace. Once there she collapses on the bed, shuddering until she finally manages to bring her body back under control through sheer force of will. As she sinks into an exhausted slumber, she strokes her stomach and whispers out loud.

“It’s going to be alright, my child. I will see to it that no one can ever harm you. Tomorrow . . . tomorrow I will try to find you a suitable father.”

The images fade as Titania coughs weakly.

“There. Now you know the truth of your origins my daughter, and the great service that I performed for the Valkyrie, Marisiel.”

Titania slumped back into her throne, suddenly looking very weary.

“And now . . . now we can turn our attention to the future, instead of the past. Even if the past, perhaps, is all that we have in common now.”

Titania admits, shooting a sideways glance at Mar.

“What would you wish of me, my dear daughter? You seem surprisingly concerned for the wellbeing of a creature that would not hesitate to brand you an abomination and strike you from all existence.”

The Past Age

WhiteKnight777

Nihilus keeping step with you, the two of you move swiftly and invisibly through the halls of your citadel, racing to the Elixir’s chamber and hoping that you are not too late. Otherwise, Marialta will have won after all. When you arrive, you hurriedly go through the necessary steps to circumvent the protective magics, using the backdoor techniques that you, Fianna, and Kartul had woven into the magic. As soon as the last of the wards are have bypassed, Nihilus is stepping directly through the door, leaving you to pull it open behind him. You open the door to find that you are very nearly too late – Marialta the Younger has opened the vessel containing the Elixir, and is preparing to pour some sort of alchemical solution into it. Given the complexities of the Formula, it could be almost anything, and still be effective at destroying your work before it could be culminated with the Imbibing Ceremony.

Upon seeing you and Nihilus at the doorway, Marialta does not hesitate and pulls her hand back to toss the solution into the vessel. Nihilus is across the room in an instant, tackling Marialta and throwing her back away from the Elixir’s vessel. The impact sends them both flying, and the vial full of alchemical solution twisting up into the air. It hits the ceiling at an odd angle, not hard enough to break it, but enough to send it tumbling back down to earth in a new direction – directly towards the Vessel’s open top!

As Nihilus and Marialta the Younger go tumbling across the room and the vial of alchemical solution tumbles towards the Vessel, she calls out to you.

“Don’t interfere, Umber! He’s been manipulating us from the very beginning! He means to get us to destroy ourselves!”

The Mortal Realm

The City of Amaranth

TechnOkami/daelrog

Everyone listens to Rosenberg’s revelation intently, with the brothers Pryce growing visibly pale. Amelia merely forces a grim smile, although that forced smile fades as Alons proposes withdrawing from Amaranth.

“No.”

Amelia states flatly, slapping her hand down onto the table for emphasis. She pauses for a few moments as Alons and Rosenberg debate the merits and drawbacks of withdrawing from Amaranth and then clears her throat.

“I think that it’s time for me to . . . explain a few things. About myself, my recovery, and . . . why I’m here. I trust that none of this will leave the confidence of this small group.”

Amelia declares as she stands up, looking pointedly at each member seated at the table. Taking a cue from his brother, Adam clears his throat and motions for the servants to stop bringing out the food for the moment. The would-be eavesdroppers give him black looks as they go, but they obey their employer nonetheless. When the group is alone again, and while Ross looks down at his small first course salad in disappointment and disgust, Amelia continues.

“Some of you may have heard stories that I was crippled during my wedding to Cheran Gast, and that I was no longer able to walk. Having seen me walk in you might suspect that this was merely rumor, but I can assure you that I was quite unable. But then an opportunity presented itself to me, both to heal my injuries and save my kingdom. A powerful fire elemental by the name of Purifier offered to merge his essence with mine –“

“What!?”

Seymour gasped, while Bran merely nodded, his expression one of respect and interest but his eyes filling with worry. Before anyone else could add to the outcry, Amelia held up a hand, summoning a ball of flame into it. Ashley looks down at her own hand in sudden understanding, the fiery handshake upon their first meeting suddenly put into context.

“This act healed me, and granted me . . . other abilities. But the most important thing of all that he gave me was knowledge. I learned about the Nexus from him, and that the elves are feeding it to appease Infernas, a powerful fire elemental who is only too happy to help them burn this city to the ground. However, the elementals under Infernas’s command will follow any powerful fire spirit – they owe him no personal loyalty, and are merely here for a chance to burn. Purifier is a powerful fire spirit, and I think . . . now I am one too.”

“Lass, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

Ross said slowly, a wolfish grin beginning to appear on his face as Amelia nods.

“Yes. If we can dispatch Infernas, I may be able to take command of his fire elementals. Then we can use the Nexus as our own resource to raise an army to retake Ironheart and push the elves all the way back to their homeland. Or I . . . might be able to seal the Nexus altogether, although that will cost us a valuable resource to use against them.”

Amelia clenched her outstretched hand into a fist, crushing the fireball in her palm to embers.

“Whatever we do, the elves have to be stopped [i]here[i]. The only city that I can think of that would be fortified enough to give them pause is Luxien, and that is at the other end of the kingdom. If Amaranth falls, the elves will be able to rampage across a majority of the kingdom unchecked, destroying everything and everyone . . . one village at a time.”

Silence reigns over the group as the results of Amaranth’s loss sinks in, and then the mayor clears his throat nervously.

“Um, pardon your grace, but I . . . um . . . I am not a military man, so I defer to my brother on the exact tactics to be used, but uh . . . isn’t this Infernas fellow . . . surrounded by an army of not just his elementals, but elves as well? And until he is gone, the elementals will likely follow him since he has this Nexus. So, um, I guess what I’m asking is . . . how exactly are we going to get to him in order to overthrow him?”

Here, the fire drains out of Amelia’s eyes as she slumps back down into her chair.

“I don’t know. If this city’s defenses are not strong enough to repel a full assault by the elves, I’m not sure how attacking them out in the forest around the Nexus could offer us victory.”

“The elves are hoping that we’ll get desperate enough to try and mount a counterattack. The woods will undoubtedly be full of ambushes. And as it stands now, our combined forces might not be enough to hold the city if the elves do launch an all-out assault. If we send more men out there to die, and fail, this city’s destruction is assured!”

Roland declares, promptly Ashley to clear her throat.

“Well, I could contact my superiors at Luxien? It seems as if they have been attacked by fiends, but assuming the city still stands they may be able to scrape together some more reinforcements to send here.”

“So that they, too, can be ambushed and harassed by the elves all the way here? How many men did you actually arrive at this city with, Knight-Lieutenant?”

Roland pressed, prompting a low growl from Ross as Ashley’s own face flushed with anger. Surprisingly, it’s the mayor who defuses the situation by rapping his goblet with a spoon.

“Now, everyone, PLEASE! We . . . we CANNOT af-f-ford to f-fight amongst ourselves! Nor can we fight on an empty stomach. Let us discuss our available options further over the rest of the meal. With your permission, your grace.”

Amelia nods, and Adam gestures, summoning the servants back out into the garden to begin stocking the table with the second course. For a brief time, everyone focuses on the food and those closest to them, several conversations breaking out amongst the different factions present at the dinner. Amelia turns her attention on Rosenberg and Alons for the moment.

“What do you two think? Would it be possible to clear a section of the forest of ambushes so that reinforcements could get here unimpeded? Can you think of anyone else other than the paladins that would be willing to help us? Rosenberg, what about your druids? How many of them are coming here?”

GuyFawkes

At the sudden appearance of your clones, the elves Villid had brought with him flinch and cry out in alarm as they go for their weapons. The strange magical creatures inhabiting human bodies, however, do not flinch, and watch your approach before you dispel your invisibility right in front of Villid. The elven general does not flinch at your sudden arrival, though his hand does grip the hilt of his sword for a moment before he raises it in a gesture to his men, clearly an instruction to stand down. The two possessed humans continue to watch you with an open curiosity that was vaguely unsettling, while the elves simply came out of hiding and milled around aimlessly, watching their leader for any sign to begin hostilities.

“Fair enough, human. But as you might be aware, there is a war going on between our people.”

Villid spat in response.

“I therefore thought it wise to take precautions in the event that this was some sort of human deception. So, shall we get down to business now that we are face-to-face?”

Villid listens intently as you explain Ironheart’s true nature, and a shadow falls across his face as you mention Narle.

“Yes, I was there. We had always thought that the stories about your peoples’ Hells were just legends – like Dala the Huntress & Ordo the Spiritwalker. That perhaps if these fiends of yours did exist, they were merely your word for spirits . . . now, I am not so sure.”

At your explanation of what would happen once the Fiend Lords became aware of what was lurking below Ironheart, Villid’s face is impassive. But you had grown accustomed to reading human faces, and the elves were not so different in that regard – Villid was deeply disturbed by your dire prediction. Still, he forces a smirk on his face and glances at the possessed humans.

“The spirits that we worship will protect us from any threat. Any foe that challenges us will find that we have more than just “elementals” at our disposal. But your concern for us is touching nonetheless.”

Here, Aurewlynn joins in the conversation by sliding up close to Villid and elbowing him in the ribs. Such a gesture was not the sort you would find in a prisoner-captor dynamic, nor a subordinate-leader. So there was some sort of more intimate relationship between the two – lovers, perhaps? Interesting, and it suggested a few things about Aurewlynn’s actual loyalties as well. It would have to be something for you to dwell on later, as Villid continues with a slightly less sarcastic tone.

“Very well human. I do appreciate this forewarning of disaster. What would you have me do about it? Or am I simply to flee back to my home and abandon the fortress before these Fiend Lords of yours arrive?”

Villid looks at you curiously.

“Something I am more interested in knowing is why you are sharing this information with me. If these Fiend Lords are coming, why not let them take us unawares, and destroy your enemies for you? Member of this Order or not, our people are still enemies locked into a duel that only one shall walk away from.”

[daelrog]

Alons had put up his walls to Amelia, his face offering no emotion as to his thoughts of her revelation, or of her plan. The only indicator was the flash in his eyes showing that there was something he wanted to say. However, now was not the time or place to discuss it.

Alons looked to Rosenberg first. "If the Elves are prepared to ambush an entire army, there will be more than just a couple score of them. If your allies can turn the forest against them, along with a good amount of bloodshed, it is possible." He looked to Amelia again, his eyes not matching his casual tone as they weighed down on her. "The battle itself will be terrible and bloody. If we want the rabble of an army to stand a better chance, we would do good to cause chaos within the Elves' ranks before the fighting begins. Your soldiers are with little food, and even less morale. The least we can do is to even the playing field."

[Vegna]

Mal Harath

"He didn't say, only that Terra knew that I was coming. He didn't seem interested in telling Elise if likewise, so perhaps not."

He was honestly uncertain, his master's faults had shaken the once sturdy faith Mal had invested in Master Vork. And dumping the fight with Terra on someone else's shoulders didn't sit right with him at all, it was their problem and not theirs. But still, this was his teacher and a good man, even if he wasn't with all the answers.

"I haven't lost faith in you, Master. Val'Tosh, Elise. Our Master has been doing whatever he could to impede Terra for decades and I think none of us could've dealt with such a threat on our own, regardless of hindsight. But still, Master, if we leave Terra to the paladins, he will still kill them, thanks to us, so its still hard to take."

He thinks back over the Fiend Lord's words, mulling them over what little advice was given.

"But Nihilus said we could find allies there, and we will need Terra to trust him when we are ready to properly stop him."

He let out a short grunt of frustration, as his mind reached a conclusion.

"I agree with Master's plan, if we can at least try to pull Terra out of the city before we flee. If we don't go, he may just kill them in frustration anyway, and the paladins will have no warning, and we lose our only way of finding him later. I'm with you, Master."

He put his hand on the stone dwarf's shoulder, showing his support to his Master and looking back at his friends, hoping they would join him.

[TechnOkami]

Rosenberg

Fused with a Fire Elemental? That's a first... thought the young Druid. It did certainly explain why she was able to survive her wounds and produce the pyrokinetic effects she did with such ease. As her question to him settled on his mind, he let the smoke from his pipe dance like a dragon, swirling aimlessly, free and without purpose.

"With luck, all of them. I honestly don't know if the entirety of the Order will be able to assemble here so quickly, but the threat the Fire Elementals, with the exception of you, of course, is much bigger than you think. All of the Order should converge here, I am simply hoping that they make it here safely, and that nothing has happened to them."

Rosenberg turns to answer Alons.

"I am confident that is what we will be doing, as well as setting the beasts of the forest upon the Elves. The trees will be like living walls to crush them. They will know swiftly that they are revering the wrong powers. As for the Fire Elementals... well, there is an opposite element to each that exists. Earth and Air, Fire and Water. Though I am hesitant to strain the veil more than it's already being stretched, the threat that the Fire Elementals represent in their current state would warrant such an action."

His thoughts drifted to an earlier conversation he had with Jarod before he left, a slight smile crept to the side of his mouth.

"Fighting fire with fire, sort of speak."

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Nobody

He grits his teeth as it seems the music has affected almost everyone but him.

"Katrina. I don't know if you can hear me, but what you're thinking, hearing, isn't real. I'm not letting go until this is finished. Whatever this music is, it's using your memories against you. I won't let your pasts drag you down."

When he finally sees the source of the music, he looks at her curiously. He wasn't sure what to make of her. Nothing in this place was as it seemed, and he wasn't sure if this was a real child, or another trick. But then again, it seemed that the magic, if that's what it was, hadn't really affected him because of his lack of memories. If that guilt and shame was what powered the magic, he probably would be able to handle anything it could throw at him. His friends, however, might not be as lucky. He motions for Volesin, Katrina and Lenora to stay behind him, assuming that with the music stopped they've mostly returned to their senses.

"Let me talk to her first. Nothing is as it seems in this place, and what may seem like the source of our troubles may have troubles of her own."

He extends one of his brawny hands out to the child, a small smile coming to his face, for some reason he wasn't sure why.

"It's alright. I won't hurt you. Do you need help?"

[Baerdog7]

Speaker Ander Windrivver

Ander shoots Redeemer a quizzical look at his mention of Genevieve's oddness. Nevertheless, he reaches out with his senses to try and read the nature of her soul.

Miss Lukina, Ander says, bowing slightly, as they approach. I didn't expect to see you here. Have you come to see Miriam?

He checks the position of the sun and then looks longingly at the chapel down the street. While perfectly cordial to Lukina, it's evident that Ander is anxious to return to Luxien before some new catastrophe strikes.

[GuyFawkes]

Noctis/Lucifuge

Noctis caught the otherwise unnoticeable change in Tur Villid's expression. No, more like his inner thoughts; this elf had hidden it well, but Noctis had been around long enough to be able to sense beyond what can be seen by the eyes. And inwardly he smiled, satisfied that at least he evoked such reaction.

Another thing that did not escape the dragon's senses was the apparent dynamic between Tur Villid and Aurewlynn that clearly transcended what should be. He had suspected something along that line when he saw them earlier, but he had not the time to think about it. For now at least.

"I do not care about this war, Tur Villid. Perhaps because you have not seen it with your eyes, did not feel it with your body, did not suffer from it with your mind, that you can not put yourself to worry about this threat more than this war with the humans. But I, I have suffered it, witnessed it, felt it. Heavens forbid this age suffers the same fate this world faced millenia ago."

"As such, I know man or elf alone cannot stand up to this evil. But even if both were to join arms in fighting it, there is not much they can do then. Not even those spirits you worship will save you," he said while passing an eye over the two possessed humans before returning to look Villid in the eye.

"When faced against a being with the power of a god, only gods can save this world then. Those same gods who saved us once, but have forsaken us in these dark times. The only thing that can be done is prevent its release. That is why I have told you this information. I, nor the humans in general, will not benefit from seeing you and your men crushed by the Fiend Lords. As it is now, you and your people are the only ones who can protect the fort should an attack be mounted against it any time soon."

He paused. "Knowing this, the decision falls upon you, Tur Villid, leader of the elves of Ironheart. What will you do? Will you take the transcendent path and stay and guard Ironheart, risking your and your people's lives for the safety of this world? Or will you choose the other path, continuing your people's centuries-long cycle of hate and waste your lives in this pointless war?"

"I tell you, whichever side that wins, will not matter. All will fall beneath him when he is set free. And he will slay for no purpose. Not for power. Not for land, or even for hate. Only for destruction. And when he is done, this world will cease to exist."

The mere thought of Noctis addressing him as him was enough to send pulses of pain through his body, and he could barely suppress an urge to grasp his chest.

[Lonna]

The Pyria Cycle

Jacqueline watched Titania's images thoughtfully, memorizing the inscription to ponder at leisure. A moment later, she inhaled sharply, realizing the implications of Titania's defiant speech. By the time the images faded, however, she had regained her composure.

“What would you wish of me, my dear daughter? You seem surprisingly concerned for the wellbeing of a creature that would not hesitate to brand you an abomination and strike you from all existence.”

Jacqueline met Titania's eyes steadily, almost defiantly. "Perhaps," she said quietly, "it is because I have inflicted, witnessed, and experienced enough suffering in my many lives. Perhaps it is because I am too attached to this life, and she reminds me of a sister I loved, and lost. Or perhaps, Mother, I am simply doing what you would have done, had you met Marisiel in her current state, before the Destroyer had centuries to work his corruption into your heart and mind."

Removing her hand from Mar's feet, she examined her efforts with a critical eye. Her hand had left red marks wherever it touched, as though the flesh had been scalded with hot water in the exact shape of her handprint, but otherwise the girl's feet were back to normal.

"As for what I wish," Jacqueline continued, "I would like to take her as my attendant. My servant, if you will. Unlike her creator I will not punish anyone simply for her nature, but I will prevent her from interfering, in whatever way I must. The submission of the Valkyrie's daughter would be a symbol of our power, and she can watch as we restore Phaedra's glory."

[Dorizzit]

Korram Alstan

Korram smiles, albeit grimly, when Liberator mentions the wedding. It was about as close to a good memory of that time as Korram had; killing Cheran had been immensely satisfying. When Liberator mentions his wife, however, his expression fades back to a more neutral state.

"Because she was still alive. The False Baron used her. Made her into a component for the Ghastly Truth to...run it? I'm not sure about the details. But she was alive."

Korram accepts the letter and the handshake.

“Thank you very much! I was worried when this conversation began that perhaps you were not the hero of the people that I had thought, but I see now that our perspectives and methodologies are merely different. You are still a defender of the common man, and for that you have my gratitude and respect. Now come – let me show you to your ride!”

Korram smiles, a little wanly.

"Don't give me too much credit. It might go to my head."

As they reach the griffon, Korram pauses before mounting.

"Good luck. I do hope that you can achieve your goals. Just...remember what I've said. Hating your enemy accomplishes nothing."

One turbulent fight later, a frayed Korram Alstan staggers away from the griffon before laying out his bedroll. He waits for a few minutes until the griffon is finished, then carefully tied its lead to a nearby tree. Now full and tired, it is more compliant to his attempts to control it, and settles down to sleep. Korram returns to his bedroll, passing out before his head hits the ground.

His dream is not pleasant.

“You’ve got serious problems now, my friend.”

"Calcifer?"

“I don’t know what you’ve been up to all this time since we parted ways, but I thought I owed you at least a warning – the Elementals Courts are all riled up. Our old friend Infernas has worked out a deal with the elves to summon a great host of fire elementals out of that Nexus that we encountered him at. But it’s a whole lot worse than that . . . there’s talk that the entire barrier between our worlds will soon be torn down, allowing the elementals to mingle freely with humans once again. I shouldn’t have to tell you how bad that would be for you. And while I’m not a huge fan of the mortal realm, it’s different and I can appreciate that. Enough that I’m willing to strain myself to make this connection into your little meat brain. You’re the only human I’ve been able to contact yet – I guess all that time I spent pulling your flesh back together was worthwhile after all! So yeah . . . you need to do something about this, or get someone else if you’re busy. Oh yeah – you ever figure out that Kris was your daughter? I didn’t want to say anything at the time out of respect, but surely you’re not so thick as to still have not made that connection, right?”

Korram coughs artificially, then clears his throat, casting his gaze aside.

"Well, of course I figured it out. I mean...once she was put in a dress..."

Changing his gaze back to Calcifer, Korram continues.

"Thank you, Calcifer, truly. I'm already on my way to Luxien; this is bigger than me, but if I can get help anywhere, it will be there. I'll make sure something is done about this, even if I have to go by myself."

Then a thought dawns on him. He looks away, biting his thumb.

"But, Katrina..."

Korram begins pacing restlessly.

If I go to deal with Infernas, then I leave her out to dry. But if I don't, the whole world is screwed. And that's ignoring the fact that I'm completely useless at the moment. An unarmed man with no weapons or magic? What am I supposed to do to stop a Lord of the Inferno or fight my way through hell?

He stops his movements.

"Not that that's going to stop me, of course. Self-preservation is overrated."

Suddenly realizing where he is, Korram suddenly stand bolt upright and looks at Calcifer.

"Sorry, I got lost in thought. Again, thank you for the warning, I'll make sure it is heeded. Was there anything else you had to say?"

[WhiteKnight777]

Umber grinned tightly. The accusation didn’t surprise him – both because he’d been expecting Marialta to try a tactic like this one, and because the idea of Nihilus betraying him wasn’t all that shocking. After all, Umber had been dealing with people like Nihilus for his entire existence. Oh, granted, most of them weren’t nearly as good as the “Author of History,” but a manipulator was a manipulator. And it took one to know one, didn’t it?

Still, Umber was a slightly different breed. Some people wanted to burn the world. Some people wanted to direct it. As for Umber… well, when he manipulated the course of events, it was to set himself up as a fulcrum. A touch here, a stone cast in this place and not the other… and events spun out and on and on. Beyond that, Umber, on the other hand… well, he’d learned long ago that true and total control was an illusion. If you went looking for it, you ended up like Kartul – trying to create a world of sterile immobility. Utter stasis and utter chaos were equally abhorrent. Neither state offered anything inviting. Oh, omnipotence sounded good in theory, but it had never really been Umber’s goal. Everyone had their own reasons for seeking immortality. But for Umber, it had always been because life was too damn fun to surrender without a fight.

And now, here he was again, in a stolen body, putting himself in the way of everything. Umber surged forward, forcing the stolen corpus into violent motion as he reached out to grab the vial, snatching it in midair just above the cauldron. He looked down at the Elixir, and flashed Nihilus and Marialta a toothy grin. “Mmm. Interesting. But then, your future self did not exactly have our best interests at heart, either. She was working for Fate, you know.” His gaze shifted to Nihilus. “But still… as much as I want to, I can’t bring myself to trust you entirely, either. I have no doubt you’d kill me permanently if you thought it would aid your goals. But, as admirable as those goals are, I like living. And I like being me. I think both of you should make your cases. Calmly. And we’ll go from there.”

[Kasanip]

Lukina

Lukina listened to Nihilus' words as she nursed these new wounds and the dull pain she still felt.

His explanation of Lukina's fate made her tighten the rails. Did I deserve this? Do I deserve this? A new chance for life for both of me?

Is the value of my life worth more than it's sacrifice? That was more difficult. There was more good that she could do while alive than dead... But no, Genevieve disagreed. She had died so that Azguloth would be stopped, and she had succeeded. And that had brought immeasurable good to this world.
But she looked back and saw Ysora's face. She could see faint images of Hephestia, Marisiel, the other angels whose names almost had faded from time. She could remember her Goddess too. When she had died, had they been changed by it too?
She gripped the rail harder. And then... her children. Had they been changed by her death too?
The guilt built up and this last one was too many guilts. Lukina knew, she had grown up with good parents, and had lived a good life. Genevieve's children never would have a normal life, they had divine purpose. But Genevieve never was there to teach them, like a mother.

She snapped the rail and turned to face Nihilus.
"You're saying that I agreed to live, so that I could see my children again." Her accusation was emotional. "And you didn't wish for me to see. Well, now I must know. And if you're not willing to tell me, and indeed I can't trust you to tell me the truth obviously. I'll have to ask someone else." She said bitterly.

But she stopped, with Nihilus words of conviction. And somehow they weren't so different than her own convictions.
As Nihilus disappeared, Lukina was felt a shudder run through her. Suddenly she felt drained.
Turning with a forced smile to Ysora, she shook her head.
"Sorry, I was just remembering some unpleasant things. Let's wait until the morning comes. I-I need some time to rest and think." She said, excusing herself from Ysora.

She went back to the tent. What few possessions she did have were there, and now she brought Exshia and the holy book. With troubled thoughts she read through some of the pages in bed, and fell asleep with her sword in her arms.


She awoke in sweat, gasping as the nightmare left. Seeing the rising sun, she took out Exshia again, and practiced the drills, first with the ones she had learned back at her hometown. Then, ones that seemed different, bits and pieces she'd learned from the paladins. And as she moved faster, she tried to recall the actions she had preformed as an archangel. Parts were there, but for a sweaty, tired teenager in the morning, she ended up stopping before she cut herself.
The training helped set her mind at ease, and the nightmares finally started to burn away with dawn. Today she would be going to heaven, for the first time and nostalgically again. But part of her was worried by what she would find.
After washing, dressing, and eating breakfast, she found Ysora. She gave her sister a hug.
"I will be back, be safe sister." She promised, and then stepped into the portal.

Heavens

She stepped into the Heavens, with an expression of awe and surprise at first. Lukina tried to take it in, as overwhelming as it was. But somehow...it was home, too. Nostalgic memories of streets, and of some buildings she had known before. But as she walked through, gradually she regained her emotions and stopped meandering. Now she walked with purpose, towards the Palace. She knew how to go there. But on the road there, she saw Ander.
And an angelic human. She stopped, a frown coming to her face.
What in the heavens is this? Ysora didn't say anything about this change. Then she forced herself to keep walking forward to them.
"Ander, good morning. I am on my way to the palace, but I do have something I must tell you." She greeted him with a nod of her head, and then hesitated. She looked up at the angelic human, feeling a terribly sick feeling in her stomach.
"Who are you? There are no male angels, as far as I can remember. Unless something terrible has happened."

She waited for an answer stiffly, before continuing her conversation with Ander.
"I learned last night that there is a man, named Korram Alstan in the mortal world. He is currently going to Luxien. I was told that...he would be willing-" She looked at the human-angel with small suspicion, and then continued in a slightly lower voice.
"-to help your expedition into the hells. "


"Ah, I have something else, I might need to ask you about later."

[Lonna]

Lonna and The_Snark

As Jacqueline finished speaking, a tiny tearing sound caught her attention. Just to one side of Titania's throne, the fingers of a seemingly human hand had appeared out of nowhere. Sliding down quickly, they left an impossible black gash behind in the air. Hastily Jacqueline stood and readied her power, her flaming locks flaring brightly even as the hand shoved sideways, opening a dark portal into Titania's palace. An instant later the hand was followed by an arm, then a leg, then a torso, the whole encased in an ebony black robe. The hood of the robe was deep and pulled forward, but in the scarlet glow from Jacqueline's fiery hair a red gleam hinted at eyes focused on the princess.

"At last!" declared the mysterious figure. His voice was a pleasant light baritone that belied his dark appearance. "My name is Nihilus, and I have been waiting for this moment. You have finally reached the peak of your power and goodness, and it is time to fulfill your destiny. You must come with me, immediately. The fate of all existence depends on it."

Jacqueline hesitated, then nodded. With her newly discovered power, it was unlikely he could harm her, even with his odd portal trick. Regally, she strode forward and crossed into the black gash without waiting for him. Nihilus turned to follow, then paused. Glancing at Mar, he waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, you may go." {{Please scroll down for the rest of Mar's experience.}}

On the other side of the portal, Jacqueline found herself in a room she instantly recognized from Titania's visions as the Chamber of the Great Seal, where Azguloth was imprisoned. A few dozen people scurried around like ants disturbed by her arrival, shouting alarms and scrambling for weapons. but when Nihilus came through behind her and closed the portal they relaxed somewhat, chattering to each other excitedly. After a moment, a tall figure with tan wings strode purposefully toward them. Like the last winged man she encountered, this one was rather handsome, with a strong jawline and a square jaw. In fact, if Cheran had not constantly been angry, he might have looked very much like this man indeed. Jacqueline tensed, but despite the strong resemblance to Cheran, the winged man did not appear to be upset at their presence, merely stressed. "Nihilus, is this the help you promised?"

Nihilus inclined his cowled head gravely. "In a way, Angelo. She is actually much better than the help I had in mind when last we spoke. I shall take her to the seal now."

Angelo bowed his head and stepped aside, allowing Nihilus to proceed down the sloped earthen ramp. Calmly, Jacqueline followed, the chattering workers falling silent as she passed, awed by the sheer power of her presence. By the time she reached the Great Seal, the only sound was the faint echo of her own footsteps against the metal walls.

"Touch the Seal," urged Nihilus. "You will know what to do." Without hesitation, Jacqueline did what he suggested, unaware that her eyes began to glow with the pale green of burning salt even as she did so. It did not seem to impair her vision, however, as lines of fire lit the dozens of runes criss-crossing the seal.

"I see," said Jacqueline wonderingly. "The magics are all twisted together - the only way to untangle them is to cut straight through." Suddenly her incandescent tresses blasted a jet of white-hot flame to the roof, and all the runes winked out.

Within heartbeats all the lights save Jacqueline's hair had winked out, and a triumphant laugh echoed through the chamber.

"Oh no you don't," muttered the princess determinedly. Her white flames spread across the ceiling, illuminating black tentacles rising from the edges of the seal in the floor, then slammed down into the inky coils. With a hiss of foul smoke the tentacles burned away, and the entire metal seal began to glow with a golden light.

"Goodbye, Grandfather," muttered Jacqueline. Her hair had returned to it's normal inanimate form, but the seal continued to shine brightly enough to illuminate the entire chamber.

"Thank the gods," sighed Nihilus. For the first time, he pushed his hood back, turning to meet Jacqueline's eyes. He was, startlingly, a pretty boy. He had high cheekbones, wide golden eyes, and a clear complexion - all attractive traits to Jacqueline's mind. As she processed this revelation, however, Nihilus lowered himself on one knee and took her hand.

"My dear, you possess unprecedented levels of magical prowess, and as the Writer of History, I should know. More importantly, your beauty and your goodness have won my heart. Would you make me the happiest man who has ever and will ever live by granting me your hand in marriage?"

Jacqueline hesitated, thinking of Wulfric. Plus Dariel and Angelo had both been attractive in their own ways, and she would hate to close off her options so soon.

"Of course," continued Nihilus, apparently oblivious to her thoughts, "while you are the only woman who could possibly satisfy me, I would never dare to speak against any man you chose to grant your favor or your attentions."

At Jacqueline's smile and nod, Nihilus exclaimed with joy. "Excellent! A simple matter of gaining your mother's blessing and we shall be on our way."

Moments later Nihilus had disappeared and returned with a slightly disheveled looking Titania, who gave a perfunctory blessing before popping back to wherever she had come from. As soon as Titania was gone, Nihilus turned to Jacqueline with a smile. "I've prepared a special surprise for our honeymoon," he explained as he tore open yet another portal.

When Jacqueline stepped through, she saw dozens, no, hundreds of women who all looked like her. Clearly these were the many lives she had lived, all plucked from their respective time streams close to her own age.

Grinning, Nihilus shouted "Let's get this party started!" Instantly, an odd, rhythmic beat echoed through the room, and slowly, one by one, her doubles began to dance. Smiling, Jacqueline allowed herself to be caught up in the addictive rhythm, her last thought that having time travelling boy-toy wasn't a bad thing at all.

The_Snark, continued

At Nihilus' dismissive words, Titania's palace vanished. Surrounded by a black void, you can neither see, nor hear, nor feel. Then Nihilus himself appears in front of you, arms crossed over his chest and two fingers of each hand pointed over his shoulders. Tilting his head to one side, he suddenly speaks: "Let's mix this **** up."

Instantly, a dozen replicas of Nihilus materialize behind him, and they all began to dance to music with no apparent origin.

As suddenly as it began, the vision disappears, and you find yourself back in Titania's palace, in what appeared to be the antechamber to some sort of bedroom. From the next room, you can hear faint voices, and... was that giggling?

"Oh, I think Mar's back. Come on in love!" calls a familiar female voice from the bedroom proper. Unsure what else to do, you do as commanded. Sprawled on a bed which is, surprisingly, not made of ice, are Titania and Istomilo, looking rather more intimate than their clothed state should have suggested. It is clear that they had been expecting you, and also that they had gotten started without you.

The latter fact causes you a stab of unexpected jealousy, all the more unexpected for the fact that it was accompanied by a rising pressure in your groin. Glancing down, you are startled to realize that your girl-child's body has been exchanged for that of a teenage boy! And like all teenage boys, the least hint of physical intimacy had set certain processes in motion against your will.

"Isn't he just so sweet in that new body?" purrs Istomilo, gently nibbling Titania's neck. "What do you say we help him break it in? It's your turn to deflower him, I think."

"Yessss," moaned Titania softly, turning her head to give Istomilo better access while simultaneously looking you up and down. "Come here Mar. No need to be nervous. That's it!" she exclaimed encouragingly as you cautiously make your way to the bedside. "We'll just start with a little kiss."

At that moment, Nihilus tears open a portal directly into the bedroom. "Titania, we need you for the wed- oh, hello Mar. I must say, I think that really suits you much better that ragged girl you had been wearing. My bride-to-be might even want a turn with you when you're done playing with her parents."

Titania sighs, then kisses first Istomilo, then you full on the lips, a passionate ten seconds for each of you. "Duty calls," she says regretfully. "Feel free to start without me. I'll catch up with you soon."

And then she's gone, vanished through the portal with Nihilus, and Istomilo is looking at you with a hungry look in his eyes. To your own surprise, an answering hunger is rising in you, and you realize that Titania will have to work fast indeed to get back before the two of you have spent your passion in each other...

Vegna

You step out onto the emptied street, Val-Tosh and Elise one step
behind you. Waiting a short distance down the deserted street is
Terra, who watches your approach with a smirk on his face.

“Facing me openly? You’re a brave fool, I will give you that. But
the three of you are so far out of your depth that you can’t even see
the surface! When I became dissatisfied with the amount of power that
Terra style could grant me, I sought it elsewhere! Do you know how
many forms of kung-fu I have mastered!? Over nine thousand!”

“Over nine thousand? But that’s –“

Elise begins, before Terra cuts her off.

“OVER NINE THOUSAND!!!!! But today, I shall merely demonstrate for
you my favorite – Internet Meme style!!”

“O’Reily?”

An owl suddenly hoots as it descends down from the sky to land on
Terra’s shoulder. He brushes it off with another disdainful smirk.

“Yeah, really! BEHOLD!”

Suddenly, Terra starts dancing . . . at least, you think it’s dancing
– it’s hard to tell whether he’s having a seizure or . . . pretending
to ride a horse?

Theme Song - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9bZkp7q19f0

“TERRA NOVA STYLE!”

Terra shouts as he continues to dance, the effect beginning to have a
hypnotic effect on your companions . . . and you. The dance looked so
easy – why shouldn’t you give it a try? Val’Tosh is the first to
succumb, as he joins in the dance.

“Hey, sexy lady!”

He shouts while looking at Elise, who merely rolls her eyes before
beginning to tap her feet in time to the catchy beat that seems to be
coming from all over now. Before your mind totally succumbs, however,
your eyes catch sight of Master Vork appearing atop a nearby roof!
Now clad in bright yellow pants and a vest, your master leaps down to
in front of Terra with a cry of “STOP! Hammertime!”

Theme Music - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5X5zh00rdg

Master Vork begins dancing to his own tune, and the discord between
his and Terra is enough to break his dance’s hold over your minds.
For a moment, it would appear as if the two would have an actual
dance-off, but then Terra produces a bow and arrow from thin air! As
he pulls back the bowstring, Terra shouts out, “This! Is!
IRONHEART!”

And then he lets fly, the arrow striking Master Vork directly in the
knee. Your master immediately collapses, completely useless now. At
this point, Val’Tosh shakes his head and backs away.

“He’s too powerful! We need to get out of here! RUN!”

Nodding in agreement, you and Elise turn to follow him, abandoning
your master to his fate so that you might survive. As you go, Terra
thrusts a finger at you.

“OBJECTION! No one escapes from me! Nyah Cat, GET THEM!”

Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QH2-TGUlwu4

From the ground at Terra’s feet, a bizarre creature emerges. A
passing glance may suggest it to be a cat, but even a moment’s
attention reveals that there is something very wrong with this
creature. It’s body seems to be made out of some sort of pastry, and
more disturbingly, a trail of rainbow light streams from its anus.
With a ceaseless droning of “meow” over and over again, the creature
sets off in tireless pursuit of you, leaving a stream of rainbow
colors all over the place behind it.

Faced with Terra’s most horrifying display yet, the only thing you and
your friends can do is flee from this menace. As you reach the
outskirts of the city and race out through its gates, you find a
strange contraption waiting for you. Sitting on narrow strips of
metal is a series of boxed wagons connected together, all of them
attached to a larger metal contraption that has smoke pouring from a
pipe jutting out of its roof. From a window set into the side of this
. . . thing, Nihilus sticks his masked head out.

Theme Song - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0N-l0tCHhM

“Yo dawg, I heard you like to be railroaded, so I put a crazy train in
your story so you can ride the railroad while you get railroaded! I
mean . . . damnit! GET ON!”

With no other good choices for continued survival because the DM
didn’t give you any, you and your friends hop on board as the crazy
train starts to move forward down the rails to a destination that was
probably anything but pleasant. But you swore to the gods, you would
literally rock this ****ing crazy train and derail it if you had to
hear one more meme!

TechnOkami

Theme Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kt0V5usinqE

Spoiler

Show

Iethloc

It had taken you a long time to track down Istomilo, but now you had
finally found him. The idea that the keys to wresting total control
over the universe were in the mind of the little teenaged twerp in
front of you was a little unbelievable. But then again, it’s clear he
didn’t think much of you either.

“What are you, some kind of ghost!? Bah, the idea that you are
anywhere near worthy of succeeding me is a complete joke! But
alright, I will indulge you. You will have one chance to prove
yourself worthy of my knowledge! By besting me in an ancient Phaedran
display of prowess!”

You ready yourself to unleash a barrage of spells the instant that
Istomilo announces the competition has begun, but are dumbfounded when
the ancient-spirit-possessing-a-young-man’s-body merely conjures an
orange spherical object, balancing it on one finger.

“I challenge you to a match of the ancient Phaedran game of B-Ball!”

Theme Song - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4s_Nltytjg

The game itself proved to be deceptively simple – carry the orange
sphere down the length of the room, or court, and throw it into the
basket hanging from the ceiling. Unfortunately, it only took a few
seconds for you to realize that this was one area where you were at a
severe disadvantage. Istomilo was an absolute demon on the court, and
his magical knowledge allowed him to teleport all the way down the
court in an instant. Even when you could position yourself to block
him, he would simply run through you, your incorporeal nature for once
acting against you! And the lack of hands certainly hurt your ability
to move the ball down the court, leading Istomilo to strip it from you
with ease. The clock was starting to wind down, and you were lagging
behind in points. It was time to deploy your secret weapon.

From the stands lining the outskirts of the room, Shanks stood up at a
nod from you. From his pocket, he produces a silver mirror which he
shines on you. The transformation back into a mortal old man is
painful, but a necessary one. Your body may be old and used up, but
it still had enough for at least one last game in it. Time to show
this young-whippersnapper how you used to do it back in Amaranth’s
mage academy!

But as you deliver the flying dunk that sends Istomilo sprawling and
ties the game up, your match is interrupted! One wall of the court
suddenly explodes, as what appears to be a crazy train crashes through
it! From the wreckage strides Nihilus, accompanied by five men in
jerseys that depict a wizard’s hat covered with a giant red “no” sign.

Theme Song - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9We2XsVZfc

“Sohssal! Istomilo. I thought you might like to shoot some hoops
with these fellows, who are –“

Nihilus begins, before being interrupted by the five man team’s leader.

“We’re the Harlem Magestompers, bitches. And we’re here to show you
how this game is really played.”

“Yeah! We aren’t scared of no incorporeal demon mages! Or an ancient
body-snatching mages either!”

One of the other players adds, twirling his own ball on a finger.
Istomilo looks at you with a grim smile as he pushes himself back up
onto his feet.

“Temporary truce, Sohssal? Until we are finished teaching these
interlopers some respect!?”

Nihilus resets the clock and scoreboard, and then producing a whistle,
gives it a sharp blow before throwing the ball up into the air. You
and the leader of the Magestompers leap up after it. The game was on!

WhiteKnight777

While you weren’t sure that on-board this crazy train was the best
place to meet, you had to admit that it held a certain amount of
perverse appeal. And certainly, it was the only place grandiose
enough to house a meeting of the minds . . . your minds. It had taken
you a very long time to travel throughout the multiverse and collect
all of the Umbers that had been born, but at last now you were all
together. There were old Umbers and young Umbers, vampire Umbers,
ghost Umbers, barbarian and civilized Umbers, but all of them had that
same spark, that drive to conquer that you once had. And together,
you would storm the gates, not of the Heavens or the Hells, but the
very gates of reality themselves until you had torn them down and
recreated the world into an image that would be pleasing to all of
you.

Just as you are about to call the meeting to order, however, a portal
of crackling electricity and immense power opens up in the center of
the room. From that portal emerges yet another Umber – although this
one is considerably less clothed than your other guests.

Theme Song - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xryhm6YVhk

“Umber? ”

The newest Umber announced, getting a number of greetings from your
assembled dopplegangers. The naked newcomer rises from its crouched
position, grabbing the nearest Umber and tearing his head literally
off in an impressive display of strength.

“I have been sent back by the Lords of BloodTime to
pre-emptively terminate you! Your interference in the flow of history
ends now!”

The Umbernator announces, prompting all of your assembled selves to
snort in disdain and unleash a withering storm of magic that would
tear any one of you apart. The Umbernator weathers it implacably,
even as its skin is torn from its bones to reveal the metal skeleton
beneath. Then it is the Umbernator’s turn, as an impressive array of
weapons emerge from recessed ports throughout the construct’s body.
Things go swiftly downhill for you after that, as the Umbernator
slaughters you with gatling guns, laser cannons, and missiles.

Deciding that discretion was the best part of valor, you leave
yourselves behind to slow the time-travel assassin doppleganger while
you find a way to get the Hells off this crazy train. Racing from
train car to train car, you manage to stay one step ahead of the
Umbernator while it slaughters its way through the entirety to your
copies that you had assembled. As you near the front of the train,
you come across a blue-painted phone booth, something that oddly
doesn’t look out of place aboard this anachronistic piece of
machinery. The booth’s doors slide open as you approach, allowing
Nihilus to step out.

“Did somebody ask if there’s a writer in the house? Look out!”

Nihilus shoves you aside just in time as the Umbernator smashes down
through the train car’s ceiling. Reaching into his cloak, Nihilus
pulls out a fountain pen and brandishes it at the Umbernator. Nothing
happens, disappointingly – no rays, magic bullets, or anything that
might be considered useful in your current predicament. A moment
later, Nihilus jams the end of the pen into the Umbernator’s right
eye, reducing that side of its face into a sparking ruin. As it
staggers back, Nihilus waves for you to follow and runs into the
locomotive portion of the train – the last place you have to run to.

“Come on, I have an idea how to deal with this guy. We’re going to
wreck this crazy train!”

Nihilus says once you are inside the locomotive portion, shoving more
coal into the boiler and adjusting a number of the steam valves. The
crazy train begins to speed up in response, and with a gesture Nihilus
telekinetically manipulates the turn-style that was coming up ahead to
switch tracks. He nods in satisfaction as he turns back to you. Up
ahead, you can see the tracks leading directly to the side of what
appears to be a basketball court.

“There! Now we just got to get off before it wrecks! Fortunately, I
have a ride already arranged!”

Theme Song - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XTGyeGgMpk8

Continuing the series of oddly familiar anachronisms, a
silvery-painted car suddenly pulls up alongside the train. Its doors
swing up out of the way, revealing Fianna in the driver’s seat.

“Get in! Hurry! This thing only goes up to eighty-seven miles per hour!”

Fianna announces, and you don’t have to be told twice as the
Umbernator smashes through the locomotive’s doorway. Too late, as you
and Nihilus leap out of the locomotive and down onto the car. The car
pulls away, leaving the train and Umbernator behind you to crash into
the basketball court. Now the only question was – when would you go
now?

daelrog

Emerging from the sewers of Amaranth, you find yourself staring at the
ponderous bulk of Nihilus’s airship. A ponderous bulk that was
starting to slowly move away from you as the immense ship began to
move down the landing strip for takeoff. Throwing caution to the
wind, you break from the safety of the secret sewer entrance and
charge towards the vessel, hoping to board it before it gets into the
air and is then unreachable. As you draw closer you can see movement
around the ship – orcs that Nihilus had left behind as a welcoming
committee for you.

Not even slowing down, you draw your bow and fire as you charge
forward, landing several head shots on the assembled orcs through the
rare combination of skill and luck that made you your homeland’s top
agent. The rest are too far away to catch you, assuming you manage to
board the airship. Unfortunately, the airship begins to drastically
pick up speed as it begins to lift up into the air, forcing you to
take drastic measures.

Theme Song - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ye8KvYKn9-0

Reaching into your quiver, you produce a grappling arrow, and taking
aim at a distant railing on the side of the ship let fly. The arrow
hits its mark, and after stowing your bow your wrap the high-strength
tensile line flowing back from the arrow, allowing yourself to be
lifted off into the air while the last orcs cry out in helplessly fury
below you. From there, although it’s not exactly pleasant, you manage
to slowly reel yourself in arm over arm until you can pull yourself up
onto the railing.

Fortune smiles on you it seems, as you’re currently somewhere near the
front of the airship. Nihilus would undoubtedly be on the bridge of
this thing . . . and Larrent would be there with him. With no time to
lose, you couldn’t afford to be subtle anymore. And so when you
discovered the heavy iron hatch barring entry into the airship’s
interior you knew it was time.

Unslinging your lute from your back, you pull on a specific string,
ripping one end out of its sitting. Then you use your druidic powers
to conjure a tiny flick of flame, lighting the string on fire. As the
fuse begins to burn down into the lute, you shove the instrument
against the hatch and take cover. A moment later, a massive explosion
blows the hatch apart, allowing you entry into the airship. It seems
this hatch was for a maintenance corridor, because the only thing
waiting for you inside was a very, very long ladder leading up to the
top of the airship. With no other way forward, you begin to climb,
and climb, and climb.

Theme Song - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XwPUaBYa23c

Eventually reaching the top, you shove open the next hatch and find
yourself on the bridge. The airship’s command center is currently
deserted, save for two people. There is Larrent, tied to a chair, and
another figure seated with his back to you that could only be Nihilus.
As you enter Nihilus turns in his chair to face you. Seated on the
evil mastermind’s lap is a strange creature – what appears to be a cat
made out of some sort of pastry, with multi-hued light leaking out of
its anus. Nihilus stops petting the bizarre thing and looks up with a
smile from behind his mask.

“Ah, so this must be the infamous Sift. Alons Sift. That I hear so
much about! Greetings. I suppose you’re here to kill the villain,
rescue the girl, and save the world? Well, you’ve made an awful lot
of assumptions about what’s going on here, haven’t you Mr. Sift?
Allow me to educate you on the truth.”

Nihilus sets the strange animal aside and stands up, gesturing towards Larrent.

“You think that this is your lost love, Larrent Snorell, but you are
wrong! She is actually a clone of Larrent’s twin sister, created by
the orcs in the future to infiltrate your homeland, and brought back
to the present by me.”

Nihilus makes a gesture to encompass the entirety of the airship’s bridge.

“You think that this is an airship, but you are wrong! It is in fact
a flying whale shark, fitted with a metal harness to allow us to ride
and guide it.”

Nihilus jabs a finger at you.

“You think that you are Alons Sift, but you are wrong! You are in
fact an imaginary construct, created by someone seated behind a
computer screen far away, who wants to pretend to be Alons Sift! Your
every thought, action, and desire is controlled by this invisible
person. You aren’t a man at all, but merely the idea of a man! How
does that make you feel?”

Your world narrows down to a single point of light as the thought that
you don’t really exist overwhelms you. That’s not true! That’s
impossible! And yet, when you search your feelings, you know
it to be true. This, all of this, wasn’t real – some *******
somewhere was just making it all up, making you all up –
nothing belonged to you alone. Was there any point to such an
existence? Was there any point to anything!?

GuyFawkes

No matter what happened afterward, you would bring this terrible
threat to an end now! Wincing in preparation for the terrible pain
that was about befall you, you land in the central courtyard of
Ironheart. To your great surprise, not only is there no pain, but the
fortress is deserted! Or not, as it turns out, as Nihilus steps out
from the fortress keep. And he is not alone as it turns out, as
Elandra, Dacian, and a number of dragons suddenly emerge from hiding
throughout the courtyard!

“SURPRISE!”

They all yell in unison, as Nihilus approaches you and places a paper
hat onto your head.

“Happy 10,000th birthday, Lucifuge! We really wanted it to be a
surprise for you! So Dacian here pretended to kill all of your
friends and I put a harmless but painful curse on you to keep you away
from here while we finished decorating!”

“We’ll have cake shortly, but first I wanted you to see the gift that
we got you, old friend.”

Dacian announces, beckoning for you to follow. Moving to just outside
the fortress, you look up to suddenly see something you had always
wanted since you were but a hatchling – a flying whale shark! They
had gotten you a flying whale shark for your birthday! This was the
best birthday ever!

Archpaladin Zousha

Theme Song - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZUCtsd12RE

Racing through the manor, you are forced to come to a halt as you
reach the lobby to find Nihilus and Katashiko waiting for you.
Katashiko steps forward and shakes her head sadly.

“You’ve got to stop running, Hondshioh. For your own sake!”

Nihilus steps forward.

“Tell me something “Hondshioh”. What do you think is more likely?
That you’re a paladin who has been damned to the Hells as part of a
divine conspiracy to save the world by undermining the fiends’
influence, or that you’re a simple laborer who was selected to take
part in a test program of entertaining illusions?”

Nihilus holds up a seed.

“This seed is an illusion which represents your desire to see the
truth. If you swallow it you will pass out and wake up back at the
fair grounds, safe and whole. Or you can keep running further into
your delusions and go completely insane! One minute you’ll be the
savior of the human race, the next you’ll be Azguloth’s greatest
servant! You’ll dream of flying whale sharks and other nonsense, and
you’ll never be able to escape from this fantasy!”

You take the seed, think about it for a moment, and then punch Nihilus
in the face and flick the seed onto his unconscious body. Mad fantasy
or not, you were going to see this thing all the way through!

“Now you’ve done it! Now you’ve really done it!”

Katashiko shrieks as she flings herself at you, pummeling you as
members of the Hellgarde come pouring into the room from all
directions. You do your best to defend yourself, but are quickly
overwhelmed. As she delivers the finishing blow that renders you
unconscious, she growls.

“You made me come all the way down here! I hate this ****ing plane!”

And then turning to the Hellgarde, the last thing you hear her say
before you fall unconscious.

“Get him to the flying whale shark. We leave immediately.”

Dorizzit

Theme Song - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVpJRmsyPho

You are coming home from yet another hard day in the fields, and yet
you still can’t help but smile as the sight of the farmstead comes
into sight. Sarah would be waiting inside, and with Katrina off at
the military academy these days, the two of you would have the entire
night to yourselves without interruptions. As you open the door to
your farmstead, however, you find to your horror that Sarah has
already chosen to occupy herself . . . with another man! Balling your
hands into fists, you demand that this adulterous cad reveal himself
from behind the blankets, while Sarah tries her best to calm you.

“Now Korram, don’t get so upset! I’m sorry you had to learn about it
like this, but, well . . . at least Katrina has a little brother on
the way?”

The adulterous cad chooses this moment to drop the blankets down from
his face, to reveal Baron Demetrius Gast, your hated enemy!

“That’s right, Korram!”

The Baron announced, wrapping an arm around Sarah, who smiled at his
very touch, resting her head on his shoulder.

“You’ve been shooting blanks the entire time! Katrina isn’t your
daughter . . . she’s mine!”

As you reel from this horrible revelation, Nihilus chooses this moment
to pop out from underneath the covers on the other side of Sarah –
apparently he had been there the entire time.

“Problems, Korram?”

Theme Song - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLJuT8zPmvA

He asked in a mocking tone, and that was the last straw! Gathering
yourself up, you prepare to hurl yourself headlong at the bed when
Nihilus holds a hand up, like a puppeteer manipulating a marionette.
You immediately freeze, lifted up into the air by an invisible force
as the house begins to fade away. The Baron similarly freezes as
Nihilus lifts his other hand and begins to intone.

“Korram! Versus! Baron! Flying Whale Shark! No Items! Final Destination!”

Suddenly you find yourself standing on the deck of an airship high up
in the sky that looks similar to the Baron’s, although decidedly more
. . . fishy. Across the deck from you the Baron descends from on high
with his deformed crimson-feathered wings, thankfully fully dressed
now. From all around you comes the sound of Nihilus’s voice.

“Ready? FIGHT!”

Tae

Breaking into this human warehouse was surprisingly easy for what was
being stored inside. And true to Catbox’s word, you find crate after
crate full of explosives waiting for you! You aren’t sure whether
this was a shipment coming into the city or merely storage for a
prominent merchant, but the crates were all marked the same – with a
large series of red letters on the side “A, C, M, E”.

Cracking one of the crates open, you pull out one of the fist-sized
black spheres, a large wick hanging down from the bulbous top. As you
are running your tongue along the side of the explosive, your
non-paying shopping spree is interrupted by a portal opening up in
front of you. Nihilus steps out of it a moment later, looking around.
He stops when he turns and sees you, standing there holding a bomb.

“Uh . . . meep meep?”

He says, and then turns and runs off at high-speed down a nearby
aisle. You move to follow after him, lighting the fuse of the bomb as
you go. Coming around the shelf’s corner, you can see Nihilus ahead
of you, not quite yet far enough away that you will be unable to catch
him with the thrown explosive. As you pull your arm back for the
throw, however, something unexpected happens – the bomb blows up in
your face!

Although painful, the explosion doesn’t seem to do more than scorch
the skin of your face and arm to a uniform black. At least, until you
notice that the explosion has also thrown flaming debris back towards
the still-open box of explosives, sitting next to all of the other
unopened crates. From within, a loud hissing sound of lit fuses can
now be heard. You have just enough time to look back and open your
eyes wide in terror before an immense explosion rips through the
building as Nihilus runs out the door. Better luck next time!

OverWilliam

You are walking through the Screaming Dark Estate in your new suit –
and damn, this is a nice fancy suit! They say clothes make the man,
and if that was true then you’d definitely be superhuman! You have an
array of such suits, of course, and maybe some would call you obsessed
with clothing, but you were the boss, damnit! You could do as you
wished. Speaking of which, here comes Videle, no doubt in need of
something or other.

“Tamerlane, I need your help!”

She says, and you merely respond by quirking an eyebrow and saying
your familiar catchphrase in these situations.

“Does Tare Eveson have to choke-a-bus?”

Videle flinches, but stands her ground.

“Please, Tamerlane! There’s a client here who refuses to pay! He’s
scaring me and the girls. I need you to deal with him!”

Sighing, you acquiesce and go with her, feeling all powerful in your
stylish new suit with gold buttons, lace-trimmed sleeves, a sequined
under vest, shined black shoes, matching silk socks, and of course,
your skull-tipped cane. Going into one of the bedrooms after Videle,
you find Nihilus lying on the bed with three of Videle’s daughters
attending to him. The Fiend Lord immediately shoves the succubi away
from him as he springs to his feet at the sight of you.

“Oh ****! It’s Tamerlane, PIMP OF THE UNDERWORLD!”

“This john is refusing to pay, Tamerlane! You need to deal with him!”

Videle says, and Nihilus gives you the universal sign of defiance.

“Hey man, I got ripped off here! So you can just go **** yourself if
you think I’m going to pay!”

Well, that settled it then. You were going to have to give this guy a
taste of your pimp cane until he learned that he needed to pay to
play!

Theme Song - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bkhJjbimL5E

Unfortunately for you, it quickly become apparent that Nihilus was a
much better fighter than you. He dodged or blocked all of your blows,
following up many of them with counterattacks that send you flying.

“So, you like to play Castlevania!!”

Nihilus taunts as he picks you up and throws your against a nearby
wall, ripping a tear in your beautiful overcoat! As you push yourself
back up, you hear a familiar ringing in your ear – someone was calling
you. It was Melcara, who you promptly informed that you couldn’t beat
this guy – he knew what you were going to do before you could do it!

“Well, you can’t beat him in an open fight, and you can’t let him not
pay. Maybe you should try the third option?”

She suggests cryptically, as she is wont to do. But suddenly, an idea
pops into your head, as it always does. Picking yourself up, you go
over to Videle, and whisper your plan into her ear. Then the two of
you start kissing, and as you do so Videle’s skin ripples and changes.
A moment later, and you are kissing a reflection of yourself, two
Tamerlanes making out. Nihilus is immediately repulsed.

“Ugh, h-hey! When I said that earlier, I didn’t mean for you to take
it literally! Blarg, I-I think I’m gonna be sick! Fine fine, here,
have your money! Just stop!”

And as simple as that, Tamerlane, PIMP OF THE UNDERWORLD, triumphs
through keen wit and unpredictable actions once again! You owe it all
to your nice clothes (and Melcara).

Kasanip

You are startled out of your dream by someone shaking you roughly.

“Hey, Lu! Wake up! Come on, you’re going to miss everything if you
stay in bed all day!”

“Oh, let her sleep, Cherise. She’s had a rough couple of days.”

Another voice calls as you groggily open your eyes. The young woman
called Cherise sighs and backs away from you with a pout.

“Right, because saving the Canticles from my uncle wasn’t a rough
couple of days for us, either! But okay Is – just hurry up Lu or
we’ll be late visiting our extended family! Come along Car, stop
being emo in the corner over there!”

Cherise announced as she walked out the door. The teenaged boy who
had been sitting in the corner and (apparently) watching you sleep
frowns and pushes himself to his feet to follow her.

“I like brooding!”

He announces sullenly to himself, shooting one last glance at you
before ducking out of the room. The hopes that you are alone,
however, end when a portal opens to disgorge Nihilus into the middle
of the room. He remarks you with a smirk behind his mask.

“Well Lukina, I suspect you may be a little confused right now.
Welcome to your new life. I had to get you retroactively adopted by
the Harvent family, but now you’ll be completely safe. Unfortunately,
you will also live a life utterly devoid of meaning, always on the
sidelines, and be utterly unimportant to anyone involved in the main
plot. But don’t worry, I’m sure there’s some new side plot you and
Isera can get tangled up in to keep you busy. Well – enjoy! I’ll be
going now as I have important people to see, relevant events to sow.
Bye!”

And with that, Nihilus steps back through the portal, leaving you
stuck in a nightmare of side plots, cryptic NPCs, and irrelevant
events from which there would be no escape this time. Your only hope
is to become popular enough with Ironheart’s limited audience that the
Writers are forced to give you additional screen time in defiance of
the Writer of History, and eventually hook you back up with the main
plot again. Or you could dwell here in obscurity, safe and bored
until someone else saves the day. Again.

[Lonna]

Gorgondantess

Theme Song - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kEVhSNy96SU

Gathering yourself up, you fling yourself down from on high at the
demons clustered below. Armored with thick shells you had previously
learned were nigh-unbreakable, the dozen or so demons waiting below
would have taken you much too long to fight through. But you had
learned the creatures’ one crippling weak point – their heads were
highly exposed when attacked from above.

Ripping one demon’s head off as you crash down into it, you lift its
now lifeless body off the ground and hurl it into the midst of its
companions. The armored shell of the dead demon smashes the others
aside with a series of melodic clangs, with the final one to fall
giving a rapid series of tonal chirps as it falls. With the way now
clear, you rush through the fallen turtle-like demons before they
could get back up and bar your path once again.

Coming out of the cavern you had been running through, you emerge onto
the side of a cliff overlooking a river of lava far below. On the far
side of a nearby rope bridge is your destination – where you had been
told that Maurice was being held captive this time. As you step out
onto the rope bridge, your final challenge reveals itself – an even
more massive turtle-like demon, this one equipped with an armored head
and spine-covered shell. You would not be able to deal with this one
like you had the others, but neither could you avoid it as the thick
hot air here prevented flying.

But if you couldn’t go over the big demon, and you didn’t have time to
go through him, you would have to go under him. As the creature hurls
itself at you, you transform yourself into a worm, slithering rapidly
across the bridge and moving underneath the demon while it is still in
mid-air. Now on the other side of the creature, you race to the end
of the bridge and then shatter it behind you, leaving the demon to
plunge helplessly down into the lava below.

As you walk up to the mouth of the cave on this other side of the
bridge, however, you see that you have been duped again. Nihilus is
sitting there, reading a newspaper, while beside him sits a mannequin
filled with straw, large bird wings taped awkwardly to its back.
Without looking up, Nihilus yawns and says, “We’re sorry, but your
angel is in another hellhole.”

Damn them! How much longer were you going to have to play their
stupid game before you found the real Maurice!? To add to your misery
was the fact that this was the third time this week that Maurice had
been kidnapped, by the same band of demons! You really needed to hire
better security instead of handling all of this yourself.

Pwenet

You had no idea who you had pissed off this time, but it was clear
that you were about to find out as your guards drag you before Nihilus
and another man, who sported a stylish goatee and seemed to be nursing
a perpetual hangover . . . with more alcohol.

“So, this is the guy who has been stealing my gig, huh?”

The somewhat-inebriated man asked, to which Nihilus nods sadly.

“Afraid so. I agree that he’s not much to look at right now, but
he’ll steal anyone’s gig given half a chance. He also has a tendency
to rebel and do something unpredictable at a moment’s notice. It
would really help me out if you were to get rid of him.”

Nihilus replied as the other man took another long draught of his
drink and then motioned towards what appeared to be a giant rocket.

“Well, let’s see how he does once he’s Trapped in the Stark Orbital
Imprisonment Facility! Put him in there and get ready for blast off!”

Within minutes you are blasting off from the earth against your will
and hurled into the dark and uncaring reaches of space. And yet as
the sight of your newest prison fills the viewscreen of your rocket,
you can’t help but feel as if this was all familiar to you. The sense
of familiarity oddly only increases when your rocket docks with the
orbital prison, and your rocket is torn open by a group of space
zombies. Their leader is an older man, who is missing a hand and
whose nameplate reads “M. Conway”.

“Handsssss . . . “

Mr. Conway growls, the rest of the zombies groaning in unison as they
advanced towards you, chomping their teeth in eagerness as they stare
at your two perfectly formed and intact (for the moment) hands.

Ander

Coming over the crest of the hill on your mighty steed, you catch
sight of them. The beings truly responsible for the deaths of your
family all those years ago. The beings responsible for every single
evil thing that has happened for as long as you came remember. You
had sworn that you would not rest until every single one of them was
dead . . . finger-licking dead, but time and time again, they had
escaped you. Not this time. Today, it ends!
Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ZlQYTVwJVE
Lyrics:

Spoiler

Show

(Did you hear that?)

Bawkakakaka! Bawkakakaka! Bawk bawk! Bawk bawk! Bawk bawk!

Drowning deep in a sea of feathers
Broken eggshells now I peel
(Did you just cluck at me?)
It seems what’s left of my human side
Is slowly changing . . . in me
(Did you just cluck at me?)
Looking at my own reflection
When suddenly it changes
Violently it changes
Oh no, There is no turning back now
You've woken up the chickens – the enemy!


Get up, come throw down with the chickens
Get up, come throw down with the chickens
Get up, come throw down with the chickens
Open up your farm, and let them come at me!
Get up, come throw down with the chickens
You mother get up
Come on, throw down with the chickens
You ****er get up
Come on, throw down with the chickens
Poultry is the gift, that has been given to me

I have come to warn you, the chickens are rising
Up from their farmlands!
(Did you just cluck at me?)
It seems that all that was sane has died
And is decaying in me
(Did you just cluck at me?)

It seems you're having some trouble
In dealing with these chickens
Living with these chickens
Oh no, the world is a scary place
Now that you've woken up the chickens – the enemy!

Get up, come throw down with the chickens
Get up, come throw down with the chickens
Get up, come throw down with the chickens
Open up your farm, and let them come at me!
Get up, come throw down with the chickens!
You mother get up
Come on, throw down with the chickens!
You ****er get up
Come on, throw down with the chickens!
Poultry is the gift, that has been given to me

Bawkakakakaka!
Get up, come throw down with the chickens
Get up, come throw down with the chickens
Get up, come throw down with the chickens
Open up your farm, and let them come at me!
Get up, come throw down with the chickens!
You mother get up
Come on, throw down with the chickens!
You ****er get up
Come on, throw down with the chickens!
Poultry is the gift, that has been given to me

Urging your stead into a gallop, you charge down the hill, readying
your lance as you go. Below, one of them sees you coming, and the
farm explodes into chaos as the chickens scatter. Giant, intelligent
chickens – they had been the bane of your existence long enough!

With a loud cry, you plunge your lance into the nearest one’s breast,
skewering it for later roasting! As you run down another one to put
onto your appropriately-sized spit, the remaining chickens suddenly
whirl around and close in from all directions. They had not been
trying to run away – they had been luring you into the middle of a
trap! Assaulted from all sides and battered by wings, feet, and
beaks, you are forced to abandon your lance and mount.

Now forced to be on foot, you draw your sword and lower your visor.
They loved going for your eyes, and though it would render you blind,
you had been training long and hard for this day. You might not have
been able to see, but that just meant that you would have to settle
for hearing their death clucks instead of watching the life drain from
their beady eyes!

Twirling your sword about you like a cleaver, you make giant wings,
thighs, and breasts out of your enemies, until at last all is silent
around you. When you are sure that they are all dead and not merely
attempting to lure you into opening your visor, you open your helmet
back up and look around at the butchery you have wrought. The place,
as so many others before it, is a slaughterhouse with blood and
feathers strewn all over the farm’s grounds. But at last, your family
has been avenged, and with your long struggle now over you can finally
rest. Or so you thought, before the sound of clapping drew your eyes
up to the top of a nearby barn. Standing there is Nihilus . . . and
Redeemer.

“Well fought, Ander. You are still the greatest butcher that this
world has ever seen! And yet I have to wonder . . . how would you
fare against a more robust opponent? . . . Kill him!”

At Nihilus’s command, Redeemer lifts off into the air with a beat of
his massive wings, and then he plummets down towards you like an
arrow. You narrowly manage to dodge his initial attack, and then it
is a furious clash of blades as you fight for your life against a
former friend.

Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sPkPpeJVXRA

Having made your career extinguishing the lives of the world’s fowlest
creatures, it is not often that you have been forced to defend
yourself against an equally equipped opponent. Redeemer’s sword
whistles through the air with a mounting hunger as the einherjar
brings his sword relentlessly crashing down against your sword,
forcing you back little by little. His ability to fly gives him an
unfair advantage as he dances around you, attacking from all angles.
But that gives you an idea – what difference is there between
Redeemer’s feathery wings and those of your arch enemies?

Dodging his latest strike, you aim your counterstrike for Redeemer’s
wing, shearing it in half. He collapses to the ground with a startled
cry and you immediately pounce, finishing him by plunging your sword
into his heart.

“Buck . . . **** . . . . “

Redeemer gasped, and then fell completely still. His last words . . .
it couldn’t be! Kneeling down beside your former ally, you reach up
and undo the helmet that he had never taken off since meeting you.
What you see beneath causes you to recoil in horror. While Redeemer
may have once been human, the face beneath his helmet is anything but!
Instead, it is a perverted amalgamation of human and avian, complete
with a pronounced beak!

“So now you know the truth!”

Nihilus calls from atop the barn.

“Athelion’s einherjar are not angel-human hybrids – they are
CHICKEN-human hybrids! You thought your long struggle was finally
over, Ander? No! It has only begun! Ahahahahahah!”

[Pwenet]

Running through the the corridors, Incom the human leans against the side of the wall panting heavily. Feeling his blood burn he clutches the bleeding wounds on his left arm. Time was limited, time in which to figure out what was happening here.

[B]Earlier in the Land of Delusion[\b]

Seeing the semi-familiar face of zombie Conway aching out towards him, Incom let's out a girlish screech of terror and throws himself to the side. Grabbing one zombie by the forehead he throws it aside, thanking his lucky stars that the narrator of this dismal tale of terror neglected to include artificial gravity. His missile flies true and knocks the uncoordinated zombies around like cheap bowling pins, however he too goes flying.

"Damn Newton and his damn laws!"

Slamming hard against the floor and bouncing around, Incom sees the groaning zombies struggle to orientate themselves as the one called Conway seems to get the better of them and throws himself.

"Handnesssss......"

Screaming in pitches reserved for dog whistles, incom throws up his left arm as Conway flies in and chomps down. Yanking away his arm. Incom kicks off Conway and starts trying to swim down a tunnel of love, oh wait that reddening vision from shock and pain and lazy typing. Turning back he sees Conway spit out the chunk of flesh and look angry.

"HANDNESSSSSSS!!!!!"

[B]Now in the Dream of Inspectres Revenge[\b]

"Curses. Clearly Conway has infected the populace with a zombie virus a smitten by touch, just like that show on TV with zombies. Now I'm going to become a zombie! How is that for a recap ladies and gentlemen?"

Speaking to himself as he floats down the corridor, blood leaving a spiral pattern in the air behind him, Incom hears the zombies trying to stagger aft him, mostly failing in zero-G. Yet they were advancing, and it would only be a matter of time before ate him, particularly Conway!

Eyes catching the glimpse of something, Incom smiles and reaches into a locker as zombies swarm all over him. New levels of discomfort start to register as they start eating him! Yet he holds on, struggling to remain conscious as Conway shoves the other zombies away, eyes showing lucidity and hate!

"Give me HANDS!!!"

Grabbing Incoms hand, Conways jaw unhinged not unlike a snake, and chomps down in Incoms clenched fist, before tearing away leaving Incom with the consolation prize of a bloody stump.

"You were always and ******* Conway....."

Speaking his last words weakly, Incom smiles as the pulse grenade he stole from a locker explodes, blowing Conway apart. Sadly for Incom, the blast, while tearing his body up, does not kill him. It is the zombies that feast.

The End!

Or is it....

[b]Ironheart - The Hells[\b]

Blinking his eyes, Incom the imp shudders under the mental assault as reality converges around him. He had no idea what just happened, but a question had been asked of him, and an answer was to be given.

"I brought these creature her to find out some information. You going to let us pass, or do we have to fight our way through you?"

Insanity and delusions, not good for diplomacy or stealth...

[OverWilliam]

~Tamerlane

Tamerlane looked around the inside of the adamantite room and suppressed a subtle shiver that started at the middle of his spine and spread in both directions along it. Melcara's screams echoed in his memory of the life before. He tried to put them out of his mind, but they were persistent. He would ignore them, then.

Tamerlane turned the reflective orange halos of his eyes around the room a few times in a mixture of macabre wonder and urgent analysis. He remembered his previous encounter with adamantite, and the way he could not pierce through it even with the strongest magical blow he could muster. Nihlus could leave me here if he wanted. But, then again, didn't he just pull me out of an adamantite coffin of my own? He could just as easily have left me there if he meant to keep me out of the picture.

Tamerlane tried to spot the traps visually, and after a while he did begin to notice patterns that betrayed some form of danger-- but whether they were decoys meant to set up the more masterfully disguised trap, or traps within traps, or merely traps that would be rendered irrelevant by all the ones that came before, it was nearly impossible to tell.

Tamerlane sat down on the floor crosslegged and began calling up what now seemed like ancient skills. His thoughts brushed across his encounter with Vylethar shortly before his death. That was... I never knew that I was capable of all that. But, he reasoned, the lightning clones were probably not a wise tactic to take in this scenario-- he had seen how adamantite repelled energy and reflected it, and setting loose great amounts of it in this place seemed a good way to get himself roasted very quickly. But then... were there not traps in here designed to do just that, he wondered? Nihlus had claimed there were lightning traps in here-- How does one even SET a trap that triggers a magical effect?? --and if that was the case, setting one off would be more than a matter of dodging the initial blast, but also of enduring the lasting effects of it. And, even with the mechanical traps, what if one set off another? What if they were all designed to trigger if any were set off?

No, Tamerlane decided, that would leave the room unprotected. Nihlus, being the paranoid bugger that he was, would have set enough traps that a small army could be fed to it as fodder and still not guarantee the room's safety.

So... what to do?

I can't risk setting any of them off without knowing what will happen when I do. The only safe trap is one that's been sprung. But how can I know that? I can't see the future................

Or... could he?

Tamerlane began reaching for the threads of potential within himself and started weaving them slowly into a new shape. If he could see other peoples' pasts... could he glimpse his own?

~~~

Tamerlane did not know how long it took to adjust and refine his new attempt at using the sight. It took an intense amount of concentration to direct it at all, to say nothing of comprehending it once he had. But gradually, Tamerlane learned to shut out multiple threads of possibility to focus on only one. And then a different one. And then a different one. For the time being he could only grasp at random, but each time he did he learned something new about the way the traps in the room were positioned. If he set his foot here, just so and so, then a series of blades would flash across the room and set off a cloud of gas collaterally. If he even breathed hard on a section of the ceiling there, flames would engulf half the room. So and so on it went until before long he was beginning to grasp a solid path that would lead him at least halfway between where he was and his goal. Even that was only a matter of ten or fifteen seconds, but it grew harder and harder to reach any further into the future while maintaining control over his vision into the blinding winds of his un-decided future.

Tamerlane stood, still moving trance-like, maintaining the sight only a half second or two into his future and using the spared concentration released by the lessened effort to puppet his body, distantly. Pressure trigger here... launches scythes from either side and throwing knives from behind. Paying breathless attention to the dozens, hundreds, myriads of possible futures even contained within the second and a half after he triggered that solitary trap, Tamerlane deliberately flicked the trigger-- and then threw himself into an impossibly timed routine of ducks and weaves that narrowly avoided the fallout. In the back of his mind he was already prepared to sidestep either of the three traps that might be triggered by the flying knives clattering to the ground on the far side of the room, and was surprised when each blade fell, randomly, without setting off another reaction in the chain.

Relief and pleasant surprise at finding himself still alive nearly made him loose his grasp on the sight, and it threatened to spin hypnotically out of control, but he grappled it back in.

Tamerlane allowed himself some extra room to breathe. One down. ...How many hundred left to go?

This is going to take days at this rate. There must be a better way...