The Abyss

[Farmerbink]

One moment, you're standing in the uppermost sanctum of a squat, functional, gray building. The body of the cultist you helped slay gets sliced to ribbons by the thousands of razor-sharp stony fragments ricocheting through the room. The next, the whole world seems turned on its head. You see things that aren't there- can't be there. Can't be! But it feels so real!

Victory on the front lines and betrayal many years past flash across your vision like a slide projector stuck on advance. Before you can focus on any one thing or try to dig deeper for truth or fiction behind the scenes, you're on to the next. Without warning, the visions fade, and you're back in the same room- only face to face with hordes of demons! A portal has opened somehow into the lowest places, and a witch stands within it.

You feel the whip crack around your neck, and instinctively reach for the lash to keep her from breaking it. As Radiance clatters to the floor, you feel yourself pulled almost off your feet- whoever this woman is, she's strong. When you hit your knees, one hand still holding the lash- and thankfully keeping your head in place, your eyes see onyx and brimstone, where once was dull, matte gray brick. That's not good.

Before you think another thought, the pressure somehow shifts. The binding around your neck loosens, as the sound of malevolent laughter drowns out the fighting behind you. "What have we here?" purrs a feminine voice. "Ah yes. An appetizer."

You raise your eyes- and wish you hadn't. The demons are here. Without number. Without end. Half a dozen horned figures prowl forward, licking their lips and eying you hungrily. You reach for Radiance. And your hand touches bare stone.

You rise slowly, deliberately, drawing your old lucerne hammer. Some unexplainable energy floods through your arms and shoulders. "Fine, then. Come get me."

The monsters oblige. Or at least, they try to. The first two fall, one head removed, the other crushed by the heavy steel implement. It takes a little longer, but the next two share the fate of the first within a few moments. More than anything else, you find yourself wondering at this unknown strength. You wreak utter devastation on the hordes, and as they fall, their bodies pile. This is no mere banishment, but death.

[BelGareth]

She had never felt like this before, yes, she had felt the divine power surge through her, she was a vessel and obliged the greater powers to enact their will through her, but this, this was different, every fibre of her body felt...stronger, resilient, powerful.

And she used that power, she needed it, every ounce of it, as she faced the never ending swarm of demon-things before her, as she bought one low, another stepped in, lunging, growling, leering, and terrifying her, if not for the divine spark deep within her, before the shattering granting her untold strength, the valiant power of her oath, her paladin hood, it protected her quiet soul, her small simple spirit deep within her, the thing that she truly feared would be taken from her.

Death, dismemberment, and pain, these things she could deal with, her cold warrior like spirit compartmentalizing these things as needed, appropriate almost, but her tender soul was off limits, and it urged her on, it kept the hammer swinging, her grip tight and strong, long after her strength fled her, the need to keep going.

She had seen death, they all had, her friends....well, she could barely recall their faces, how long had she been fighting these abominable monsters before her, how many of their bodies were lying at her feet? It felt like it had been days and minutes simultaneously, how could she have been fighting for so long?

She shook off the cobwebs from her memories, or tried to, slipping to a knee on the demonic viscera covering the floor, limbs, and bodies alike.

The moment bought clarity to her situation, her mind recoiling at the carnage she had wrought, but almost smiling as well, it was well deserved, and her righteous fury and wroth was well spent, she nodded to herself, picked her body up, disregarding the fatigue in her limbs, making them feel like lead, and bought the hammer up one more time.

That was it, keep going.

One more time.

Just have to keep moving

One more.

Spoiler

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I should probably add a Lucerne hammer to her gear :P

[Farmerbink]

Unable to count the bodies, and unable to count the enemies remaining, Aurora strives nonetheless without break. If she could only kill that wretched witch, it would end. It had to end. Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, she's aware that time must be passing, but how can something like time exist in a place such as this? It seems like her whole life's experience has been here, in the dark that isn't dark. The witch still watches. Somehow, she's just as far away as she always was. Despite Aurora's efforts, she is no closer to the witch.

And the energy!

The unbridled strength! The majesty of righteous fury blazing bright against the hordes of the Abyss!

... It's fading. At first, perhaps she thought it was just a slip. Just sweat mixing with the blood of demons. The Inheritor will never fail!

... but no. Her next swing is slower. It hurts the demon- it doesn't kill on impact. The second blow still fells it. But... there are so many. How will she ever last?

[BelGareth]

It was becoming too much, her energy was failing her, her strength diminishing, her vigor, floundering, it was all too much, her mind was a mess of jumbled emotions, juxtaposed upon each other like pairs of exquisitely estranged twins, the stress of her own mortality, her loss, and her sudden, unending, impending doom was too much.

She wanted to stop, to just, let it happen, to let them take over, and rend her apart, to finish this life, but she knew, she knew she could not let that happen, she still held onto the hope, the vain glorious desire, that something, anything could happen? was this her hell, was she stuck in this never ending loop of slaughtering demons, with her strength slowly slipping through her sands like fine dust, unable to even grasp an ounce of it, out of her control, just an observer to the finality of it all?

She reached deep down, and swung the hammer one more time, it had become incredibly heavy, she knew not how she was swinging it still, her knuckles were bone white, her fingers in a death grip, if she let go, she knew she was done, she kept swinging, as he dug deep down inside and prayed.

She was asking for help, assistance, would her goddess leave her so, forsake her so to such a nightmarish existence of pain and torture, the macabre thought entered her mind, and poisoned her hope, perhaps.....she had? her faith faltered, she slipped, and fell to one knee, was it possible?

She saw another coming at her, and sprung up with whatever energy she could muster, and swung again, always swinging, she couldn't stop.

Her faith began to crack, like the foundation of a bridge, the pylons grew cracks that became larger and larger as her besieged mind sought out the logical conclusion, no, no, this couldn't be, no! She screamed to her self, she screamed outloud, she screamed at the next beast she smashed into pulp, she screamed at the damnable witch who just watched and laughed, she screamed at the horde, but most of all, screamed at it all!

[Farmerbink]

And still, through it all, there is no respite. Aurora spares time for a glance at her feet; there mingled in with the thick black ichor that is the blood of demons, a thin strand of bright vibrant red worms its way away from her.

Blood? My blood?! she wonders, without long enough to even follow and find its source. As if responding to her thoughts, a demon slips a wicked blade in from her flank, and she hisses sharply breathing in at the sudden pain. Fear joins her exhaustion, driving wedges into her faith like tree roots through a brick foundation. Worming eerily closer, though kept at bay for the moment by the sheer enormity of faith.

As the moments frantically tick past, injury fades into the background, just another color in the panorama of unending violence. Pain is a teacher, and it's a teacher Aurora knows well. She retaliates in kind with her hammer, and blinks as the foe bats the weapon aside to nimbly avoid its head. She redoubles her effort and scores a blow, though her strength seems to be fading still- this one seems like only a minor injury

And the pain, it is relentless. Just as she puts the first from her mind, another glancing blow lashes in under the joints of her plate. This time she knows that her blood will be adding to the floor.

She glances up, and realizes that this is the same demon. It has struck her twice.

And the hordes reach on into infinity.

[BelGareth]

Aurora kept on swinging, her arms and legs, hands, feet...her whole body felt like something else, like dead weight moving by itself, she looked on, as her body moved by itself, she could see the mound of demonic bodies before her, the macabre scene evoking the urge to retch, but nothing came, nothing was there, she was...nothing, everything was nothing, all she could do....was nothing.

She watched, as her body kept going, how, she had no idea, but her arms were swinging, her hands still holding onto the one thing she had, the one weapon, the one item she could use to protect herself, and she was using it.

She knew though, that this wasn't going to last. Even the divine energies that swelled her up, buoyed her life to the point of bursting, and reigned down upon the cruel and vicious embodiment's of evil before was faded, almost gone, but she could still feel it's spark deep inside, it was refreshing, like a cool shower under a waterfall on a midsummer's night, it felt....good.

Such a contrast to what she experiencing, it was hard to keep that feeling, which was dashed away in a moment by another crunching demonic skull.

She was so tired.

All she wanted to do was stop, and sleep.

She just wanted to stop.

And then she did...slipping down to one knee, exhaustion, finally taking over, her head hung loose, arm resting on the shaft of the giant hammer, she just didn't care anymore, she just....couldn't

[Farmerbink]

And like a switch turned off, the front row of demons ceased their assault. Instead, they stand, snarling, staring down at you from just out of reach of your weapon. They part, and the witch saunters up- still standing behind the front ranks, laughing. It's a pleasant sound, actually. The kind of laugh you'd share with a friend over a particularly choice tidbit of gossip.

"Ser Pelleas, the warrior. You killed many of my minions just now," she observes, with a pleasant, comfortable smile. One of the demons lunges forward, and punches you on the shoulder. It doesn't even hurt. It should, but it's somehow more insulting than painful. Before you can respond in kind (if you're even sure you care to), it has reformed ranks.

The witch smiles, joyously, still standing imperiously out of reach. She eyes you, blatantly taking some sort of measure. For a moment, you get the impression that she's imagining you naked. It's hard to even be sure if that's a good or bad thing.

"How would you like a job?"

[BelGareth]

Confused, weak, and alone, she narrows her face, scrunching it up

"Ser Pelleas?" she says out loud

"I'm...."

who was she? she could barely think.

Who in the nine was she?

"I'm....Grace.....who the hell is Ser Pelleas?"