Fantasy Hunter's Moon: Ascendancy [IC] [CLOSED]

[K0mori]

He looked to the floor. "Perhaps the waves of time had passed them by and allowed them to remain... or they had been washed over, only to be remembered in records. Life moves forward, unending, with no way to resist it."

Xiaòzhou looked back at Sebastian.

"This is the Way."

"I hope it's still there. Maybe someday, I'll get to see Redonia myself. It'd help if the world doesn't end, first," Sebastian joked, grimly. Standing up, he suddenly found himself less interested in the concept of flight. It seemed childish to want to fool around when demons were plotting the continent's demise. "Danke... I appreciate everything that you've told me; I have a lot to think about. I think I'll have a smoke for now, and I can learn to fly another time."

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou nodded in response to Sebastian's grim joke, before just smiling in response to him deciding to go for a smoke now.

"No worries, my friend. Whenever you are ready, you are free to ask. The riverside is always free to those seeking what it holds," the hermit responded, getting up himself as well. He approached the door, and opened it on Sebastian's behalf. "Rest well."

---

Elsewhere, in the Abyss
North of the Land of Greed
Yinjian


Though Greed formally laid in the hands of the Tariunite Rebellion, to frame it as completely under the control of it would be misguided. With the rebellion continuing on, only those elements immediately identifiable as sided with Taranoch were dealt with. The remainder, if not opposed to the rebellion, were allowed to exist autonomously. In this fashion laid several smaller 'warlord' states, largely born out of squabbling rivalries among Greed demons - as well as the non-demon-led Yinjian, consisting of its three core settlements of Luzhou, Sakai and Yangchon, and its lesser settlements, all governed from its administrative 'capital' of Youdu.

Zuoqui Huntun, whose regency had been enabled with Taranoch-backed Abyssal might, had found himself transformed as a result of his lucidity following the fall of Erebus. In his mind, with Keggoth's loss of these lands, the Land of Greed and, with it, Yinjian itself, had lost its legitimacy. Thus, it must be purified and rebuilt. But, through his lucidity, he ultimately realized that such an undertaking cannot be taken so swiftly, especially when surrounded by enemies - both outside Yinjian's borders and inside. However, it became quickly apparent the resource deficiency they suffered. The armories were outdated, the many banished to the dungeons (including old rival Huo Zingwei, damned to suffer in a furnace) were too broken to be able to aid the Huntun Regime, and the efforts of the Anti-Shuntungwui Front combined with the current state of Greed meant little was headed in Youdu's direction. At this rate, purifying Yinjian seemed liked a distant dream.

Attempting to take advantage of the new status quo, Huntun abstained from 'declaring' a new Regent to the Heavenly Emperor, conspicuously leaving it absent with Erebus' fall to avoid suspicion. And further maintained a small force only towards neighboring warlords, all to maintain the veneer of 'peace' with Tariun. For all his regime knew, the damnable Abahai and her motley crew could be contacting her any moment - they needed to cover their basis to avoid the wrath of Tariunite Governor Neroph.

Huntun had just come out of a meeting regarding the retooling of their weapons, which had ended with the near defenestration of one of the people present. For those few present in the halls, they knew to stay away lest they be met with his strangely quiet rage. Except for one.

"[...what can I do for you?]" Huntun looked down at the envoy simply.

The envoy, trembling in his shoes, handed the letter he had received to Huntun, and quickly ran away. Huntun assumed the worst - after all, he would have to take his rage out somewhere. Opening the letter and reading it brought fear to his eyes.

Neroph, with his guard detachment, had requested to come to Youdu to discuss with him the place Yinjian will have in an Abyss finally freed from Taranoch/Sazak's tyranny. And worst of all was what he requested be one of the topics to be discussed: the oni and the Doueans.

Across the halls, one could hear him speak ill Abahai's name.

 

[joshuadim]

The Schwyzian Sanctum
The Raven Court​

"You do know if the Arsenal Magus finds out that not only have you returned from the Abyss, but also that we're collectively helping you-" Jonah started to say as he looked on with a worried expression while Venextos rummaged through yet another among many tomes within the Arsenal Magus' private collection.

"Oui, oui I understand..." the Grand Magus spoke before tossing the book behind him, causing a great thud to echo through the hall, "We simply need to find the proper incantations and binding spells. Otherwise... well, without lack of a better term we're fucked."

"That's putting it lightly, Venextos." Jonah replied as he watched his friend pick up another tome and rummage through it. "All of us are scared to stand up to him. He's the greatest sorcerous mind of not only his time but our own. Even as a united front we probably wouldn't stand a chance."

"Which is why... we need to level the playing field to our favour." the Grand Magus responded as he licked the tip of his finger and perused through the various weathered pages in front of him. He suddenly stopped and grinned from under his darkened hood, before turning the book and showing off his finding. "And we have exactly what he used to amass such strength."

Jonah squinted and leaned his head forward to read the text with a soft mutter. As he advanced through the passage, detailing what exactly this ritual was, his eyes then widened before looking straight to Venextos. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"IT'S FUCKING CRAZY, THAT'S WHY!"

"Perhaps it's-"

"No." Jonah insisted again, firmly planting his position like a deep-rooted tree. "I won't let you kill yourself over this. We can find another way-"

"I'm already dead, mon ami." Venextos replied with a callous grin, "What else could be done to me?"

His younger peer rolled his eyes and huffed aloud, "What else...? Let me think. Your soul gets ripped apart in the current of the astral tide. Or perhaps trapped in that chaos and noise for eternity for failing the proper containment loci."

"Or, it simply works as advertised."

"You're not the Arsenal Magus."

"No, but I do have a great deal of insight in many matters... such as that my own living flesh would have gotten in the way. But a direct current to my very essence makes it so much simpler."

Jonah wanted to argue further, but he realized it was fruitless against the stubborn headed nature of his good friend. He knew better than to argue further while valuable time was being spent. The rest of the Raven Court were busy relaying their concerns to and keeping the Arsenal Magus busy for the time being. His eyes were peeled away from this matter, and so Jonah relented with a deep sigh. "I sure hope you at least understand what might happen if you fail."

"Well I'll take good care that I don't. Let's get this ready then."

---

​

Having pilfered the Arsenal Magus' apothecary and alchemy storage, rare ingredients from almost two thousand years worth of collection were placed in a square arrangement around the Grand Magus in their respective bowls. Hydra blood, manticore fang, gargantua ichor, and the bone powder of a giant all sat with in their liquid or powdered forms in preparation. Venextos looked over to double check each one's measurements, making sure they were as accurate as they could be in their haste. He muttered under his breath as he assured himself everything had been done correctly thus far while Jonah looked on with worry.

"Alright, it should all be set..." Venextos spoke softly, before reviewing it one more time.

"Something tells me you're not confident."

"Well, now that we're actually doing it I do have some... reservations."

"We can always go another route-"

"No. It would take too long and we have too little time to spare. Not when the Abyss is preparing to spill into our world." Venextos retorted before muttering to himself again, listing off the steps that had been listed within the tome itself. As a form of reassurance, it helped only slightly given the gravity of the process itself. Theory would only get one so far in these matters. "Okay... here we go."

The Grand Magus spread out his hands with open palms facing outwards, chanting in elvish - the words which caused all four bowls to spontaneously immolate in respective, differing colours of violet, crimson, gold, and turquoise. Arcane circles formed around his hand and began to swirl slowly like hands on a clock, while streams of power flowed about his waist and chest.

His chanting continued while bringing his hands to his front and clasping them together, causing the rings to swirl around one another in a concentric pattern that in turn created an sphere with an empty interior. The power grew more intense as it concentrated further, bringing forth a connection to the weave of reality itself, which in turn sent radiant wisps flowing out into the room itself. Jonah looked around in awe to the spectacle, but his fears only compounded as he could feel the strength of the ritual rising with every second that passed.

Venextos struggled to keep it contained as he dedicated every iota of his concentration towards maintaining the spell. Breaking it now would be catastrophic for the entire region at this rate. But he would not have the peace he had hoped, as the doors to the library flung open violently to reveal the Arsenal Magus, adorned with a look of unabridled fury across his face. "YOU THINK I WOULDN'T KNOW THIS TREACHERY!?" he shouted, stepping towards where Venextos stood with full intentions of stopping the ritual. However, he quickly stilled as his eyes widened in shock in realization to the extent that had already been performed.

"YOU COME BACK FROM THE DEAD, ONLY TO TRY TO USURP ME!?" the elven sorcerer continued, before flinging Jonah aside with but a flick of his fingers. The younger sorcerer tumbled into a bookshelf, with heavy tomes collapsing atop him to bury him in their pages. "YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU DEAL WITH, FOOL!"

"Maybe, but at least we have a chance to save the world from your inaction." Venextos calmly replied before slamming the orb of power into the ground, drowning them both in cosmic light.

---

No longer were they in the sanctum itself, but rather some foreign and barren landscape that floated as an archipelago of chunks within a sea of shimmering, cosmic rays and light. The Arsenal Magus looked worse for wear as he staggered, before growling in frustration. "You would have killed us all had I not driven us here." the elf spoke with a composed fury, "You gods-damned fool. Can't you see I'm trying to save us?"

Venextos remained silent as he looked at his own hands, realizing now what he had absorbed into his very essence. The very same strength that the greatest among them had wielded for so long.

"We barely survived the Age of Darkness, and the world is already tearing itself apart. There is no strength left in the world of men. No unity to be had among its quarrelling nations! We stand no hope of surviving Sazak." the Arsenal Magus then spoke, turning towards the turmoil of existence surrounding them before staring Venextos straight in the eye. "Unless we join them."

A tense silence followed, before Venextos spoke up in shock: "...what?"

"Four thousand years of sorcerers knowledge would be preserved. Our people would be safe. We simply need to bend the knee to the new Demon King and provide our aid."

For a moment, Venextos wondered if the Arsenal Magus was making some elaborate ruse as to catch him off guard. But everything indicated to him that the elf was being entirely serious about the whole proposition. Wordlessly, Venextos took a combat stance before summoning powerful, prismatic flames to his hands as to deliver his answer to one he used to respect.

 

[Breadman]

The Abyss. Days ago.

"I see. The power of the stare is more powerful than I anticipated, but such an attempt is unprecedent." Lozon mused as he slowly paced in his tent. The old demon had finally gotten word of what happened to Royland exactly. The uncertainty didn't bode well as to what it could possibly mean. Tarium's inn allowed for better projection in order to communicate with the wraith, but his own priority to use the energies there was behind other more prominent and important entities. Never the less, he was patient enough to finally speak with someone. "Barricade his doors. Place enchantments on them Anything to make sure he stays where he is. I sense turmoil in him, but if he was to absorb anything from the Icon, it could be catastrophic. I'll devise a way to fix this...mistake."

The projection ceased and he turned to face the table in the commander's tent. Scrolls, maps and other assortment items lay before him. All related to what his wraiths were doing in the Abyss. Yet none of that mattered as the one that he needed to succeed the most was not only bedridden, but could pose a danger to their own hope in the Mortal realms. His head weighed down by the gravity of it all. Lozon slammed his fist on the table out of frustration.

"Now what did that table ever do to you?" He lifted his head slightly to glance at Constantine behind him. "Couldn't help but overhear the end of your conversation there." The cowboy slightly grinned as he entered the tent "What did our missing brother fuck up now?"

"If you must know." Lozon straightened himself out and turned to look at Constantine in the eyes "He used the stare on the Icon of wrath." The grin on the gambler's face ran away as he looked shocked. "His condition was already compromised by dark magic, necromancy and blood magic. The stare against an Icon would severely damage his mind at best."

"It didn't kill him on the spot, so the worst didn't happen." Constantine placed his hands on his hips "What kept his head from popping do you think?"

"His faith if I was to guess." Lozon crossed his arms "But if his mind were to break from that, then..."

"It turns to blind zealotry." There was a brief silence between the two. "So..." Constantine started, doubt in his voice. "...You gonna replace him, right?"

"If we can." The demon narrowed his eyes "Do you have a plan?"

"Long shot, but you know me." That grin came back as he shrugged "Bet on me instead."

"You? Why you of all the wraiths?"

"You're really going to pretend you can control Tiloc if she's over there? Or Connor? Boris maybe, but he's clueless half the time. Our two recruits are too new to know what they're doing." He listed the others off with his fingers, then pointed to himself with a thumb. "I'm one of your best, otherwise you wouldn't have taken me to see the boss-lady. I'm also the only one who died less than a century ago from among that number."

"What's the real reason to pick you, Constantine?"

"Heh, straight to the point. That little bastard I've been hunting is out there. I go topside, do what you need me to do and then I gut the prick." Lozon looked to him, contemplating his options. He made a case for himself and while Tiloc was far more powerful and deadly, the cowboy was right. She would be impossible to control. But should Constantine subdue and switch places with Royland, then there was a chance. The demon nodded in agreement to the deal.

Pertagow now

In the darkness of the room, the knight stirred awake. With a rage-filled scream the wraith shrieked. The sudden commotion caused patron of the inn to stop what they were doing for a moment. In the room Royland stumbled out of the bed and on to the floor. He got up on his feet and moved to the door, only to find it locked. He slammed his fist against its frame, but it would not budge. His armored shoulder collided with the wood, but it would still not move. Magic was afoot.

"Let me out!" He demanded as he slammed his fist again "LET! ME! OUT!" Again he demanded and again he slammed. Whoever or whatever was keeping him in his room wasn't going to do so for long. His chains scrapped the floor as he walked back and what followed was a cacophony as the metal collided with the enchanted wood. There was no telling how long it would last, but the word was already out. The zealot of Velin had awoken and the corruption inside had set his soul ablaze.

The Abyss

Lozon moved through the camp, searching for his chosen agent. Time was preciously low and they needed to move quickly. Luckily he was easy to find. The medic tent where he talked with Colette, often sharing in the cigarette stocks he plunders from different parts of the Abyss. In the last several days however, he was using her help to prepare something else. The Abyss had many secrets still and someone with the knowledge of alchemy like her could do some great or terrible things.

"Constantine, its time." The demon spoke briskly and motioned for him to leave the tent.

"He took his time." Constantine flicked the bud aside. "Get the tonics ready. There's no telling how this will go."

"You just make sure he's in one piece." Colette responded. A tinge of frustration in her voice. "I don't want to pour an elixir down someone missing a jaw." She tried to hide it, but she was worried for him. Out of all the wraiths, he was the closest to a friend in the Abyss. Enough to tell him that she could sense that her murderer was in the Abyss. But any plans to hunt that bastard would have to wait.

"No promises." Constantine grabbed his repeater rifle and exited the tent. He hurried to catch up to Lozon. They were soon flanked by the two new wraiths, causing Constantine to look around if others wanted to join in. "What's their deal?"

"You're going to need help subduing Royland." Lozon answered without bothering to even look at him. "We don't know how strong the effects are, so we can't risk sending you alone."

"Just throwing them in the deep end as a first assignment, huh." Constantine joked. The other two didn't seem enthusiastic about it. One of them at least.

"All of you are armed with better weaponry and I can trust you to be more discreet." Lozon stopped as he drew runes in the air. "Lady Tarium requested that you try and keep things from spilling into the rest of the town and frightening civilians."

"He doesn't have a face." Constantine pointed to Fritz. The latter then placed a gas mask over his exposed skull. "Bet you wish you had that before you died huh." He could tell the other man wasn't amused.

Lozon connected the demonic runes and the air began to shift. A tear formed and started to expand to fit within the runes.

"You will emerge behind the establishment and be let in. Ask the saint, Rebecca, for assistance if you have to. Any of Royland's allies are capable enough, but her power is unmatched." Constantine nodded as he was instructed. "There is a talisman with my seal around Royland's neck. It prevents most banishments from working, but if you secure it around yours, you will benefit from it and be able to drag him back here more easily."

"Talk to saint, fight Royland, tear talisman away and banish him to the Abyss." He sighed. "Sounds so easy when I say it like that." He looked at the portal and then to the other two men with him. "Alright, lets move." The three wraiths then moved through the portal and emerge into their old home, the mortal realm.

Walking on the ground somehow felt wrong, like they didn't belong. As if the universe was telling them they were invaders. Before them was the inn where Royland was held. It was easy to figure out where exactly he was as his screams of anger could be heard from inside. A kobold opened the back door to beckon then in. The tree men got over their awkward feeling really quick as they rushed inside.

"Looking for a lady Rebecca?" Constantine called out once they entered "Anyone know a Rebecca? Or anyone of the party that accompanied the screaming maniac?"

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou jumped in shock as he sensed a surge of intense aura in the area, first emerging from Royland's room, and then a new set of auras entering the inn from the back. The hermit remembered when he was in Royland's tent, attempting to figure out anything he could do, deciding to see if placing Zazriel's robe atop him would help with anything, only for Zazriel to inform him, through his staff, that Royland's condition was beyond the oni's abilities. The thought had demoralized him, and he worked only to stabilize him until the end of the day, and then aiding to place him on his stretcher in the morning as they returned to the inn.

The violence felt in the reawakened Royland concerned him greatly, as did the fact that he could sense another force keeping him in his room. But what surprised him throughout all this was what he could sense alongside it... it all felt similar to Royland. He practically leapt out of his room, as he considered what to do, only for the voice yelling out from downstairs convincing him that finding Rebecca might be a good idea. If these strangers are calling for her, it would be best to ensure she not encounter them alone, just in case they were foes.

 

[K0mori]

Out in the street, Sebastian stood at a cart where an old man with a bristly moustache had just finished setting up shop for the day to sell ice cream in paper cups. As the man plopped a scoop of vanilla into the container, a distant, yet very loud, howling seemed to emanate from the upper-floor windows of the inn. Sebastian turned wearily, the smoke from his cigarette drifting about his face in a cloud akin to his muddled thoughts as he wondered whether to go rushing back inside. He turned back to the vendor. "Two, bitte," he said, and the man placed another scoop and a wooden spoon into the cup. Sebastian grabbed the treat, dropped two pennies into the man's hand, and then quickly walked away from the inn.

 

[Infab]

Rebecca was nowhere to be found. Instead, she had ventured to the nearby church earlier that morning to perform her usual daily routines. Solitary prayer always allowed her to start her days off right. However, Cassandra slowly regained consciousness thanks to the loud yelling and noises coming from both below on the first floor as well as from Royland's quarters. She rolled out of bed, landing on her hands and knees as she tried to get up quickly. How long had she been out? She couldn't tell. But thankfully the other her wasn't talking to remind her of her presence.

She scrambled to her feet, quickly clothing herself with what she could find before grabbing anything she could use as a weapon. Which, in this case, was a silver letter opener she noticed laying on the desk in her room. Brushing her long blond hair out of her face, she stumbled towards the door and out of it. In the hall, she noticed Xiaòzhou. "What the hell is going on?" she muttered, before looking past him towards Royland's room. The knight was pissed, and the door seemed to be preventing him from getting out. Did someone enchant it?

She shook her head rapidly and, not bothering to wait for Xiaòzhou's reply, moved towards the staircase. She used the wall to prop herself up, letting her left hand slide along it as a guide till she arrived and descended down the stairs.

And soon enough, she would see the other part of the commotion. Three other wraiths had arrived, being guided by Tariun's kobold servant, Khand. She eyed the trio with scrutiny, the letter opener gripped tightly in her right hand, before looking to the cowboy of the trio.

"...Friends of Royland?" she asked. Her voice was slightly hoarse. She needed a drink, and something for the headache she was slowly starting to develop.

 

[Breadman]

...Friends of Royland?

"Only when we don't get to see him." Constantine answered Cassandra's question. "Sorry ma'am, but we really need to alert..."He paused for a moment when he recognized who he was talking to. "Haven't we seen each other? I think we have." He snapped his fingers as he remembered "Back in the Abyss. You are the boss-lady's lady friend."

"Wass?" Fritz tilted his head "What do you mean, lady-friend?"

"What do you think?" Constantine turned his head then held up two fingers and crossed them "Sharing spot in a tree, main squeeze, better half, significant other. Focus!" He chastized the other wraith. From upstairs they heard more chain rattling and shouting. "Abyss take him." Constantine muttered. His eyes darted back to Cassandra, this time noticing the knife. "Alright, here's the quick version. Royland fucked himself up bad enough with the penance stare on the icon that he's breaking apart. We're here to neutralize him and make sure he wont jeopardize your mission. We're going to be a while, so either you or someone else needs to warn the saint." He glanced at the knife again "Just let us take the beating, alright?" He looked at his companions and motioned for them to move up the stairs. "If any of y'all know banishing spells, I'd get them ready in case we fail or take too long."

Once the trio ran up the stairs, Constantine stopped to look at his weapon. Not going to cut it in a tight hallway. He concentrated and the metal began to morph. The abyssal energies turned his rifle into a shotgun. A sinister smile came across his face.

"That? You're going to use that to fight him?" Fritz sounded offended at the very idea. "You Attracans are such barbarians."

"I'm sure gas is much more honorable." André commented. "I'll have to learn that trick."

"Just think about how you'd want to kill the sumbitch in front of you really hard and the rest takes care of itself." The door leading to Royland's room suffered another hit. This time the head of his mace jutted forward, sending splinters against the opposite door. "Seal isn't holding anymore." An armored hand broke a larger hole and grabbed ahold of the door. With a swift motion, he tore it open. The knight walked out into the hallway and faced the trio. "Why is his fire green?" A chain manifested itself around his gauntlet. "LIGHT HIM UP!" The bullets and slugs began to tear through the air and into Royland's armor. Through the smoke and splinters, a hook shot out and impaled André in the shoulder.

"COME HERE!" He got pulled forward, forcing the gun out of his hand. The other two stopped firing as not to hit him by accident, only to catch Royland take hold of him and slam him against the walls. The wraith let our a few yelps and he was trashed around. Fritz, not wanting to just watch it happen charged Royland with a bayonet drawn. The knight dropped his victim and sidestepped the charge. An armored glove grabbed him by the throat while the other balled into a fist and collided with his stomach. Another one to the face, rupturing the gas mask. Royland slammed the man while still holding him by the neck.

"Since when can you do that?" Constantine shouted in disbelief while aiming the shotgun.

"I have a newfound belief in the Goddess to guide me, wretch." The knight started to get closer "LET ME SHOW YOU!" He swung a fist towards the cowboy, who ducked under it just in time. The shotgun went off close enough to kick the armored figure back. "Your toys wont help you, Constantine!"

"So you do remember me." He avoided another hit, this time by the chain with a blade's head at the end of it. Large cashes and splinters broke off the walls. Constantine hoped that he wouldn't have to pay for this. His distraction was a mistake as Royland charged him and there was no time to escape. The armored shoulder collided with his midsection and he could feel how the other wraith was carrying him backwards. Through the railing and downwards into a table.

"Fuck..." He let out a pained groan as Royland straddled on top of him, ready to pummel him with his fists. He would be saved a face change as Royland's arm was wrapped by a rope. A chain wrapped itself around his other arm. The other two wraiths had come back from the pummeling and were back in the fight. "I taught them that." He said as he pulled a revolver from its holster and unloaded into Royland's helm. It wasn't going to do a lot, but it served to get him off. He got up and prepared to keep fighting. By now anyone sane would have left the inn or have moved to somewhere safe. The knight screamed again and pulled the ropes down, forcing the other two on their level. Fritz suffering a similar fate as Constantine, just moments ago. Landing and breaking a coffee table. But they still go up.

"Is that all you have?" Fritz rose up again, albeit slowly. His mask now in tatters, revealing the burning skull underneath. The former soldier raised his fists and André followed up with the same, not wanting to be undone.

"The fuck are you two made of?" Constantine said in disbelief as he looked at them. He wondered if Lozon did some tinkering with these two. He would get an answer soon enough as Royland went on the offensive. An armored fist broke through André's guard and send him falling backwards. Before he could strike again, an ornate chair smacked against Royland's head. Constantine used his lasso to pick another chair and smashed it against the knight forcing him backwards another step. A third chair forced him again. Fritz used the distraction to get behind him and wrap his own chain around Royland and set it ablaze.

The knight turned around to face him and grabbed the chain. He charged the man and similar to Constantine earlier on the upper floor, used the momentum to pick him up and toss him outside the window and onto the street. The chain evaporated and let Royland move freely again. He turned around for yet another chair to hit him, sending wood and splinters everywhere. The nuisance was enough to enrage him further and he charged again. That's what Constantine was hoping for. He side stepped in the last moment and let the enranged knight collide with the bar. He drew a knife from his boot and impaled one hand of his foe into the wood. Andre had gotten up in that time and moved behind the isle and followed with his own knife to pin the other hand. With a quick move, he planted a hook underneath Royland's helm. The Escarian planted a foot on the bar and pulled.

Constantine grabbed Royland's shoulders to pull on his end. Fritz would join him moments later as he stumbled back into the inn. As they pulled, the cowboy noticed something. Royland was getting hot. A burst of flame erupted from the knight as the helm finally came off and send the three of them backwards.

"Shit, he's burning out!"

"What does that mean?"

"If we keep this going, he's going to die."

"And?"

"We need him alive you idiot!" Andre shouted from behind the bar as he started hitting Royland with every bottle he could get his hands on, until Royland released his left hand from the pinned knife and grabbed the other wraith's hand before another swing. The skeletal visage of the knife send a shiver down his spine as he could guess the intent. The green flames started to concentrate themselves around the Escarian's arm and he screamed in pain.

"Fuck off with that!" Constantine shouted as he swung another chair at Royland, breaking it. The knight turned his attention away and towards the cowboy again. He released his other hand from the bar and returned the knife to it's owner with a toss. Fritz let out a yelp as it pierced him right in the leg. Royland charged Constantine again and was too quick this time. This time he carried his foe and slammed him against the piano. The instrument let out a few painful notes as the both collided with it. Next Royland would grab the other man's head and smash it against the piano, producing something that resembles a song.

The onslaught was halted again as Fritz's chain wrapped itself around his neck, forcing him to release his grip on Constantine. The knight was prepared to repeat what got him free last time as it seemed this wretch didn't learn a thing. His plan was cut short as Andre had shot the chandelier over him. The ornate light source fell right on top of him, its metal circle fitting just right to wrap itself around him, restricting his movement further. Constantine followed, as did Andre. The trio of wraiths combined their restraints to tie him down further.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN HOLD ME?" He taunted "DIDN'T YOU LEARN YOU'RE TOO WEAK TO HOLD ME?"

"Its not to hold you." Constantine tossed his hat aside. "It's to slow you down." Lasso still in his grip, he moved closer and grabbed Royland's flaming skull and forced him to look into his eyes "Lets see how you like it!" The cowboy activated his penance stare and forced Royland to relive every sinful act in his life and for all that pain to come forth. Constantine himself got a really good look at what he was up to for the past 300 years and the shock forced him to take a few steps back. Even so the gambit paid off as Royland succumbed to his knees.

Constantine walked to his brother wraith and reached inside the armor, getting ahold of the prize. That damn amulet. He placed it around his neck and looked to the other two wraiths. Battered, bruised and yet still standing. They're tough sons of bitches and would probably be some of the most dangerous duos if they ever got their shit together.

"Right. Lets get you boys back to the Abyss." He bend down to pick up his hat and let them back outside through the back of the inn. The other two dragged Royland behind them. Constantine glanced and noticed that they were close to breaking into the wine cellar. There was no way to make up for the cost of that if they fucked it up. "Right, tell Collette to fix you up after she's done with him." He could sense Royland's aura. It was fading and fast. Hopefully they could still save the stupid bastard. Why they wanted him alive, he wasn't told, but it was too late to ask. He signed up for this.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he noticed that the gate was still active. No banishment needed. He pulled out his last cigarette as the other three walked back into the Abyss. The cowboy turned around and then slowly walked back inside the inn. He stopped only to see just how much carnage they caused. He really hoped he wasn't going to pay for any of this. The gambler sat down on one of the stools left intact at the bar.

"Don't suppose I can have a drink?" He asked one of the small kobolds that had come out of hiding. "Take your time."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The inquisitor had been quietly secluded in his room. Nursing a migraine with sleep, water, and small helpings of food. Tossing and turning in his bed, Rajko quite frankly didn't know whether this was because of his recent transformation or lingering effects from the amulet. He shut his eyes in a futile effort to sleep away the morning, but the commotion outside made impossible. He clambered out of the bed, almost falling to his knees. The rapping pain in his skull continued to mount and mount. He dressed himself haphazardly, his inquisitorial coat was all that remained of his prior attire.

His head swiveled around the room to find his belt, with the revolver and pistol holsters, looped around the bed's top rail. He pulled out the luger pistol and a single magazine, hopefully whatever is causing that ruckus can be killed that quickly. As soon as he stepped outside the door, that pounding sensation intensified as he heard voices down. "Friends.... -and..." Garbled, but Rajko could tell that was Cassandra's voice.

He rushed over, long-dark coat swaying side to side, he peaked his head around the corner to see Cassandra conversing with... someone Rajko couldn't frankly discern. Spirits or something? Wraiths? He did discern that they needed Rebecca. "I'll get the Saint!" He called before ducking back away. Knowing how these matters unfold, he'd have more use as a messenger than actively involve himself. Plus he doubts he'd be much use with this headsplitter he's dealing with.

The inquisitor took a gamble that she'd be at the church, it's where he'd go. 'Come on, come on." He muttered under his breath as he ran, each step pounding his head like a hammer.

He remembered where the Church in Pertagrow was when he took that stroll days ago before the icon encounter. His vision blurred as the doors to the church came into view. Huffing, he opened them. "Saint, we have a situation!" Rajko disturbed whatever semblance of peace there was.

 

[Infab]

Cassandra couldn't help but watch in shock as the wraiths set forth to subdue their fellow knightly wraith, and the sheer chaos that followed which ended up wrecking a large portion of the inn. Tariun was not going to be happy. Not at all. When it finally ended, and the other two wraiths dragged Royland away, Cassandra simply looked to Constantine as he sat on one of the still remaining bar stools.

"...So, uh, what's going to happen to him?" she soon asked, walking across the inn. Carefully stepping to avoid debris. However, before she could get her answer, she noticed someone else standing at the front door that Rajko had darted out of mere moments before. Claire.

"Good gods, what the hell happened?" she asked, looking about the room and taking in the damage that had been done. She stepped inside, also taking care as to not step on anything as she moved towards the bar.

"Three wraiths showed up to fetch Royland before he did something rash, and then they fought." responded Cassandra, finally setting the silver letter opener she had in hand on the bar counter. Behind the bar, Rhand was hard at work looking for a drink to give to Constantine. Eventually, he'd find a good bottle of whiskey, which he poured a portion of into a glass he soon set before the wraith.

"The knight? What happened to him? Why would he do something rash?" was Claire's response, stopping a few feet from the pair.

"He used one of his wraith abilities on the Icon, which he shouldn't have done. And now he's glowing green and falling apart upstairs." said Cassandra.

"...So like you? Minus the green part."

"Different kind of falling apart." responded the pureblood, narrowing her eyes for a moment at the enforcer. "He's clinging harder to his faith in Velin, from what I heard."

"Certainly not healthy." Claire shifted her attention to the cowboy wraith among them. "And you are...?"

​

The Church of Peltragow was often one of the most peaceful locations to visit in the vast city, as really only people gathered there for morning religious services or for confessions. There were still a few scattered about from the earlier services, which Rebecca had taken part in by saying a few words at the request of one of the priests. She had come for some solitude and prayer, but she couldn't say no to such a polite request. And as Rajko arrived and shoved the doors of the church open, surprising a few nuns that had been standing near the doors on the inside, he found Rebecca seated near one of the altars that held small statues to the gods. She seemed to be making hand gestures as she prayed, focused on the statue of Adona.

The sound of the doors being shoved open forced her to break her concentration, her head shifting around and her eye opening to gaze at Rajko.

"Saint, we have a situation!"​

Her eye widened, and she quickly sprang to her feet. She was wearing plain clothes, having chosen not to wear her damaged armor or bring her sword. A simple white blouse and blackened leather trousers, with black boots adorning her feet. Her blond hair hung to her shoulders, as it often did.

What had happened? Had her work on Cassandra failed? Had she snapped? What about Royland? Was he alright? So many things came to mind, and it almost overwhelmed her as she arrived and gently pushed past Rajko. She'd find out soon enough, once they were back at the Inn.

 

[Breadman]

...So, uh, what's going to happen to him?

Before he could answer, another woman walked in and was rightfully shocked and appalled by the damage to the inn. Couldn't blame her. Cassandra gave a good enough answer as the kobold found some whiskey from the lower shelfs that wasn't harmed. Constantine drank from the glass and was surprised to learn that he still remembered what actual whiskey tasted like. Not the foul liquids in the Abyss. Real liquor!

And you are...?

"Oh..." Constantine shifted in his stool now that the topic changed to him again. "Call me Constantine, ma'am. I was send as a replacement for Royland." He motioned to some of the carnage with one hand. "His mind got really messed up after the Icon fight and this is the result. Think the faith he has was the only part of him that didn't break." He sipped a bit more of his glass. Enjoying the flavor. "To answer your other question. I don't know what they're gonna do to him. I just know its going to hurt putting him back together."

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou quickly realized that Rebecca wasn't around - she was likely at the nearby church if he had to guess - but things quickly escalated. He could overheard Cassandra talking with their guests and quickly got the gist of what was about to happen. He overheard Rajko declaring that he was going to get the Saint, and sensed his direction headed for the church. The wraiths passed the hermit by, with him just exchanging a concerned look in their direction. Whatever was about to happen was not going to be pleasant. With everything in mind, he switched his approach and instead began rushing across the inn, warning folks to get to safety.

Those initial folks he had warned brushed him off, but the moment the sounds of combat began to be heard, they quickly followed suit. By the time the fighting had moved downstairs, the oni had helped organize a coordinated evacuation from the building along with the inn staff. He kept himself in high alert just in case the fighting escalated, as well as making sure the building wasn't destroyed, or at least ensuring the damages were minimized - such as opening the window Royland threw Fritz out of, and subsequently helping Fritz back up and through the door.

When all was said and done, Xiaòzhou walked in and watched as Fritz and André dragged Royland back to the Abyss. One could clearly see he seemed sad at what had occurred. The place is a mess, and the battle with the Icons had already dealt such a devastating blow against one of their members that they needed to be forcefully removed. His gaze fell upon Constantine, and he just sighed. St. Rebecca's going to be mortified.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The inquisitor groaned as the Saint pushed past him. He rubbed his weary eyes, trying to banish the bags under them to no avail. His black boots stomped their way behind the worried Saint, trying to keep up with her pace was an irritating ordeal, but the inquisitor pushed past it. Although finding the words was the harder task. It didn't help that his head banged like a gong. "Wraiths or spirits came to get Royland. Said to warn you or get you or whatever." He spoke the words through grit teeth and laboured lungs. He prayed silently that Takato has something for this headache, it feels like his brain wants to crawl out of his skull.

As they approached the inn, Rajko took pause in his steps. "What the...?" His mind processing the scattered debris of wood splinters and window across the street. Like someone forced a fight outside then back inside. How long was he gone for? He noticed the streets were vacant, or close to vacant. Amidst the smells, he noted that Takato had been outside as well, likely warning them to flee before anyone got hurt. Good man.

He readied his Luger in his hand, but the quietude and faint words from inside stilled any notion of threats. The man entered right behind the Saint to see that same person—wraith—answering Claire's question. Eyes scanning the battered interior. What a mess Rajko shook his head. He pulled up a chair to one of the unsmashed tables, gently placing the Luger on the table and burying his head into his elbows. Trying to put a latch on a hatch holding back a wave of pain. He could only barely recognize that Royland wasn't there, couldn't smell him or hear him, likely gone from their ranks. So soon after their half-victory against the icons...

 

[Dmaster]

The commotion and chaos that took place at the inn was completely lost on Camille, as early in the morning she saw to going to the outskirts of Peltragow for the purpose of training. On top of a regiment of exercises, the huntress had been transitioning from her various fighting styles. Amidst a small patch of trees, she flurried about with her blades gracefully only to transition to flourishing thrown daggers or even getting practice in with her wrist-mounted crossbow. Though she had taken a good amount of time these past few days to rest in her room, she was never one to rest on her laurels. She barely managed to survive the fight against the Icon of Pride, and though Camille was still alive she considered that a personal failure.

Like a pendulum her mind swung between a variety of anxieties, one side being her faltering combat prowess and the other worries of her family. While it was true that she had no regrets with taking the fight to Sazak, to be away from those she loved gradually wore away at her. While she was confident that Hudson could protect himself and their children, it was in her nature to expect the worst. If they were attacked and she was not there to do anything to help them... Her stance between practiced slashes and maneuvers gradually loosened, and soon she stopped entirely in silent contemplation. Camille could tell when a session was no longer productive, and sheathed her weapons before heading back to the town proper.

When she arrived, a crowd of people stood outside and after she brushed past them Camille found the interior of the inn decimated - leaving her confused as she stepped through the doorway to take stock of the situation. She saw a stranger at the bar, Rajko looking rather dejected nearby, and the Saint and Rebecca also trying to figure out what had transpired.

"Tariun is going to be thrilled about this, I wager."

 

[joshuadim]

A door opened to one of the rooms nearby, with Azathor peeking out as he had been awoken from the commotion. Tired eyes scanned the area once the action had died down, before grunting and slinking back into his chambers to continue sleeping.

 

[K0mori]

Having waited out the chaos, Sebastian returned to the inn shortly after Camille and burst into laughter at the sight. "Meine Götter, what a mess," he sputtered, eyes scanning the room until he spotted Cassandra. "Huh. So it was the knight who cracked. Not what I would have expected..."

He then spotted the wraith at the bar and moved in closer so that he could take part in introductions, as that seemed to be a current concern.

 

[Infab]

"Tariun is going to be thrilled about this, I wager."

"Lady Tariun had the inn insured months ago! No need to worry about damage!" stated Khand, the short kobold peering over the bar at everyone. "I'll send for the repairmen, and they'll fix things up good as new!"

Rebecca was dumbstruck by the sheer amount of damage that had been delivered upon the inn, as well as saddened that she hadn't been here in order to minimize it and prevent the fight from escalating from a simple scuffle. She was also worried for Royland. He was a friend, and one she had known for quite a long time. She felt terrible about all of this.

Rebecca carefully moved through the wrecked inn, eventually arriving at the bar itself and propping against it as Sebastian arrived and laughed at the sight of everything. Then, he spoke.

"Meine Götter, what a mess," he sputtered, eyes scanning the room until he spotted Cassandra. "Huh. So it was the knight who cracked. Not what I would have expected..."

Cassandra cut him a look. "Yes, well... I'm sorry to disappoint you. Maybe next time, eh?" she muttered, her words oozing sarcasm.

Rebecca spoke up next, after a heavy sigh. "I... believe introductions are in order." she soon said, before motioning to each of the group and introducing them to Constantine. Once he had introduced himself, she spoke again. "...I should probably summon an angel. Let them know what has happened to Royland, so they can inform Lady Velin. She might finally release him from her service, but that may be a bad idea given that his faith was all that was keeping him sane."

"Right. You should let the angel know that as well, so Velin can make the right decisions." responded Claire nearby.

The statement earned a chuckle from Cassandra, as she crossed her arms. "Not going to comment on her track record of decisions." she muttered afterwards, before glancing over and noticing Rebecca now was sort of staring at her. She shifted a bit. "What? She's not the best at it. The purges, the thing with Camille during the Inquiry, a variety of other things..."

Rebecca shook her head after a moment. "I was checking your aura. I've no objections to your judgement of Lady Velin." responded the Saint. Her cleansing had worked. No trace of the Burn left on Cassandra. She just needed to be careful in the future.

Cassandra cocked an eyebrow. "I'm fine, Saint. Never better. All is right upstairs, so no need to worry about that." she stated, before looking to the others. "So, who got the last hit in on Vegras? I don't quite remember what happened after he ripped my arm off and threw me."

Cassandra then held up her arm. "Thanks for finding it, by the way. Always a hassle to try and locate the missing bits and pieces to reattach." she added, looking her arm over.

Claire scratched the side of her head, giving Cassandra a look. "...You don't remember anything? That smack against the rocks must have knocked you out cold."

"Yeah. Last thing I remember is flying through the air." said the pureblood.

"You... stood back up and cast a spell using black magic." explained Rebecca, "A blood magic spell, to be precise. You turned your bloody stump into a blade, and sliced Vegras' arm off with it before passing out again. Sebastian, here, killed him with his axe."

Cassandra's expression shifted to a look of confusion. "...Black magic? What are you talking about? I couldn't have cast something like that. I'd need to be, you know, AWAKE to do magic."

"Well, you sure seemed like you were awake. If only for a few moments." said Claire, "And we all saw what you did."

Cassandra's confusion increased. She blacked out, but somehow got back up and cast a very particular blood magic spell? She couldn't have done something like that. There was no way! "Look, I'm not stupid enough to try and cast do any sort of magic without a grimoire or something of that nature. There's costs to these things." she soon said.

"Yes, we know." said Rebecca, "I just spent the past few days reversing the damage you did to yourself. You suffered a severe case of the Burn. If it had been any worse, you would be truely dead."

Now Cassandra's expression had shifted to one of worry. She needed to write to Mariette. To speak to her. She didn't understand how she was able to do such a thing. It just didn't seem possible. Soon enough, the pureblood spun about, moving through the Inn and eventually heading back upstairs. They would then hear her room's door open and shut after a few seconds.

"...Well, I'm sure she'll be busy brooding on that for the next day or two." muttered Rebecca, before looking back to Constantine. "A pleasure to meet you, Constantine."

 

[K0mori]

Cassandra cut him a look. "Yes, well... I'm sorry to disappoint you. Maybe next time, eh?" she muttered, her words oozing sarcasm.

"Don't get me wrong," Sebastian replied, turning his hands up in a calming gesture. "It's a relief. Had it have been you, it wouldn't have been wraiths come to collect you. ...And then we wouldn't be standing in an inn- it would be a debris field."

Sebastian shut his mouth after the quip and listened to the conversation. Cassandra's shock at her own actions surprised him. So she doesn't remember it?

 

[Worthlessplebian]

"Call me Constantine, ma'am...."

So that was what he's called, Rajko mused while still buried into his arms. He wrinkled his nose at the thought, but he'd have to interact properly. He painfully lifted his head out of the comfort of his arms and stretched his neck to the side. "Yes, yes, a pleasure to meet you, Constantine. You'll forgive me for not being so enthused at the moment." He rubbed his forehead to ease the pain. His throat had been parched from the running, he waved over the bartender to fetch him a glass of water.

The inquisitor remained quiet as Claire and Rebecca recounted the tale of Wrath's defeat at their hands and how Cassandra used black magic. Her reaction didn't surprise him, although it still disconcerted him.

"Sooo... I hesitate to ask, but what is our next plan of action?" He may have missed any planning since he'd been buried deep into his pillow the past few days.

 

[Infab]

"Sooo... I hesitate to ask, but what is our next plan of action?"

Rebecca glanced to the inquisitor as he soon received his glass of water from the short kobold. "Well, I'll see what our next course of action is from Adona and the other gods. We have two other artifacts to locate, with one being in Daristein and the other being in Escaria. I pray we don't have to go through the frontlines of the war in order to get to either." she responded, "For now, though, finish resting up. We'll head out tomorrow, since Cassandra's back on her feet now and Constantine here has replaced Royland for the time being."

Claire soon spoke, the enforcer looking to each of the group. "Well, I'm actually leaving today. I have my own duties to return to, now that I've completed Undine's request." she said, giving them all a smile. "I enjoyed the job, though. Not every day you go spelunking through an old pirate haunt for a godly artifact, settle things with a wayward but kindred spirit, and kill two Abyssal Icons."

Rebecca smiled as well. "I wish you could stay with us. You've been plenty of help along the way." said the Saint.

Claire shook her head. "Sadly, I can't. My enforcer duties prevent me from doing so. Besides, I'm sure someone will be along to join you in the search for the second artifact." she said, motioning a hand towards the door.

Rebecca nodded, glancing to the doorway, before looking back to Rebecca. "...You know, you never did tell us how you dealt with Captain Valdueza. What happened?"

Claire glanced down to the floor, but kept smiling. Her mind running through what had happened aboard Valdueza's ship. "Well... I actually didn't kill him. We came to an understanding... and we both let the past go." she soon said, her voice soft as she thought it over. "...I helped him move on peacefully. Hopefully to somewhere pleasant. And he, along with another local friend of mine, helped me to move on as well."

She looked back up. "No more dwelling on ancient history. Memories of a time long gone, and people that went with it. Its time for me to focus on the present, and the future." she said finally, with a nod at the end. She then looked to the others once more. "My things are packed, and my horse is ready, so... I bid you all farewell. For now. I'm sure I'll see some of you again at some point, even if just to exchange pleasantries."

"Safe travels, then. And do be careful. Someone might want a piece of you if they find out you killed their Icon." said Rebecca.

Claire chuckled softly. "Of course. And they'll be cut down just like their Icon if they try me."

As she finished, she turned about. Carefully making her way through the debris of the inn before soon emerging outside through the doors. She paused only once, looking up at the sunlight above, before slipping on her homburg hat and moving towards her horse. Gracefully, she slipped up onto it, before pulling at the reins to turn the horse about. And then, she was gone. Disappearing into the crowds that had resumed their movement up and down the streets.

As she departed, however, someone else arrived. A bay horse, with a familiar individual riding in the saddle. The Senior Inquisitor, Gribov Isaak Ivanovich, whom had moved them aboard the HMS Black Swan which brought them to Grimtham Isle in the first place. He looked a bit better than he did before, his hair combed and the mud and blood from the battlefield washed from his clothes and boots. As he climbed down from his horse, he noticed the damage that had been done to the Inn. It gave him pause for a few moments, as his eyes darted about. Wondering just what had happened here.

He would soon venture inside, however, when he saw Rebecca waving at him from the bar.

 

[K0mori]

Southeast of Sheol - The Abyss
​

It was early morning, several days after the clash between Lisykna and Kellea. A squall of chilling rain came sweeping in, rendering the barren landscape an endless muck on which the camp miserably stirred to life and began the day's duties. Lit by torchlight under the gloomy, sunless sky, Lisykna sent up a flare at the same time a horn-caller blew their trumpet, bringing the camp to attention in a matter of seconds.

"Harken, all of you!" the witch called down at them from her aerial perch. "By now I'm certain you have all heard the rumors: that we have been attacked by Kellea here in the Hollowlands, that I have crossed swords with her personally, and that some members of our camp have been dispatched to the Mortal World. I would like to establish the facts of the situation. Mainly, that all of it is true." A murmur of surprise rippled its way through the camp, and all grew quiet. With a few gestures, Lisykna conjured up an image of Kellea as she had appeared at the beginning of the confrontation, a smile adorning her lips.

"Kellea came to the edge of our camp with a few warriors and a mage, intending to pick apart our leadership by luring us out in small groups. Instead, she was identified by our scouts, and I answered immediately in order to prevent any additional harm to our personnel. Had I called for assistance, she would have abandoned her quest, but I did not, and so I was able to entice her to a duel. She made a very poor showing of it, alors she was sent home like a punished schoolchild." The illusion began to move from its original, frozen state, to show the spinning leap that Kellea took with her weapon, just as an illusionary Lisykna appeared, turning with an crimson slash that shattered the princess' sword. A growing swell of approval came from the crowd, but the real Lisykna quickly dispelled the illusion, ridding their sight of her two puppets as she set herself down on the ground.

"I am not satisfied!" she boomed, bringing them all to silence again. "Kellea came to fight, but I came to kill. I left emptyhanded, and there is no chance she will make such a mistake again. She will bring every ounce of destructive power she can gather for our next confrontation, I am certain, and so we must prepare as we did for Erebos. We have spent the last few weeks piecing together a new command structure, so that we can take on and train newcomers in our methods. Today, I will reveal to you all the chain of command."

Lisykna proceeded to list her inner circle of lieutenants and their roles: scouting would be led by Phytraag, as was expected. The warriors would report to Stygenacht, a lumbering giant, standing a full dozen feet tall and wielding a claymore as long as Lisykna was tall. For such an imposing figure, however, he was quiet stoic, and did not display an excess of aggression when Lisykna tested his decision-making with hypotheticals. He much preferred to dominate his opponents with oppressive maneuvers and unrelenting, field-wide force, than to do so with individual brute strength alone. The mages, meanwhile, would be led by the blood mage Razial, who had impressed Lisykna with her innate ability to sense their enemies' intentions and weaknesses.

All irregulars, such as the wraiths, would continue to report to Lisykna directly. Although she would not say so during her speech, Lisykna would reveal to Tiloc that she would be permitted to train directly with the mages in order to hone her skills.

"Lastly, I will address the liaison we have conducted with the mortal world," Lisykna said. "As you know, Lady Tariun has had dealings with the Church of the Divine Five as they grapple with Taranoch's incursions into the Mortal World. As she conducts her business there, the need has arisen from time to time, for agents of our rebellion to appear before her. The binding may have been broken, but our orders remain the same. There will be no unauthorized trespassing into the Mortal World. Should you feel entitled to disobey, the punishment will be a swift death."

The camp grunted a bit in annoyance. Some of those gathered were quite interested in "adventuring" into the Mortal World for one thing or another, and were disappointed to know that they would be kept on a close leash. Soon, the speech concluded with new orders: the camp was to pack its things and prepare to move southeast, to the border of the Hollowlands and Vainglory.

As the camp neared departure, hours later, a portal appeared in the center of it and Xager stepped through. Lisykna immediately appeared before her, and before she could even ask, Tariun's second-in-command delivered a stunning revelation: "Taranoch is dead."

"Quoi!?" blurted Lisykna. Already, a cheer rang out through the camp, but a lingering doubt nagged at the pit of the witch's stomach. "...How?"

"He was killed by Sazak," Xager replied, her stony expression echoing Lisykna's concerns. Something was amiss. even as a wild celebration erupted around them in the falling rain. "Things are happening quickly in the Mortal World, and we've only just learned of the betrayal. Tariun has sent me to inform you and the other lieutenants."

Lisykna nodded, grimly, as disturbing questions remained about how the deed was done. "I see," was all she replied.

 

[joshuadim]

After unsuccessfully attempting to return to sleep, Azathor grumbled as he got up from his bed and exited his rented chambers to see just what chaos had occurred. The inn was a mess, which made the demon prince huff in amusement as he realized whatever had transpired had been quite a ruckus. He had lost his desire to close his eyes and so, rather, he walked over to the group that had gathered to get some information as to the events he had missed. Given the arrival of Constantine and the conspicuous absence of Royland, it allowed Azathor to piece together the very basics. The original wraith was gone and now replaced by a new one.

He didn't particularly mind, as he didn't like Royland in any capacity - especially after their spat on the train - which gave some hope for better cohesion among the group. It was only after he inquired for additional details did he learn about the decaying nature of the wraith following their fight with the Icon of Wrath, and how he had turned into a blind zealot of Velin. It was not entirely surprising, but still...

He saved whatever snide remark he would have for Royland's untimely departure as he instead focused on another topic that had been discussed. "We might not have a choice." Azathor commented to Rebecca as she remarked on her hesitation to enter one of the battlefields currently raging. "Given what I've heard of war here, we might not have time to bandy around the battlefield. Not when the Icons are running amok in search of them."

 

[Breadman]

What the...?

Tariun is going to be thrilled about this, I wager.

Meine Götter, what a mess," he sputtered, eyes scanning the room until he spotted Cassandra. "Huh. So it was the knight who cracked. Not what I would have expected...

"Uhh, sorry about that folks." Constantine looked around the bar as some of his new allies made their comments. "Wraiths are violent hellspawn, so sometimes our 'gift' gets the better of us. For Royland, it got him good for centuries." He shrugged as he took another sip. He was rather relieved to hear that he didn't have to repay or repair anything that was broken. He wasn't sure how he would either and knowing demons, it would have involved a type of slavery or some other unwilling servitude. As Rebecca introduced him, he had one thing to say. "Howdy." The others in turn introduced themselves. Easy enough to stick the names to the faces. The exchanged between Cassandra, Rebecca and Claire made him stop mid-drink as he looked at the pureblood. What type of power did this vampire have?

Camille seemed alright. Noble probably. The only other Escarians he had any reference to was Colette, his boss and André. The assortment of other lost souls in the Abyss didn't really count. Xiaòzhou's aura ticked something in him. Something demonic, but at the same time, not. Maybe similar deal to the gambler. Rajko tried to introduce himself proper, but something was pounding his head trying to break free. Constantine wondered if he was having the worst hangover in history or if something far worse at work. Sebastian was the odd man of the group. He was...normal. What did this kid do to get dragged into a mission like this? Eventually the last one of the group would join them. Azathor, a demon nobility. That Constantine could practically smell on him. Which royalty, he couldn't tell just yet. If he was here working for the mortals and rebellion, he couldn't be that bad, right?

When Claire left, he waved goodbye despite knowing her for a whole two minutes. As for the topic of going through a war torn part of the world.

"From one war into the other." He remembered his own comment when Fritz and André showed up in the Abyss "I have no idea what made the living get into yet another war. The stray souls that made it down to us weren't keen on sharing details on account of finding themselves in the burning Abyss." He looked at his new allies "Why the fuck did y'all make air into a weapon? Half of the guys I saw down there were missing faces or had no lungs left."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The inquisitor nodded his migraine-riven head to Rebecca's words. Eyes sunken as he got to drink the refreshing water. Then just as he set the glass down, Claire announced her departure. He squints in pain and confusion, not believing what his ears heard. And before Rajko could express well wishes or fanciful goodbyes to the Enforcer, she was gone from this mess. "Damn." Rajko muttered as he leaned forward. He'll actually miss her presence, the inquisitor smirked, imagining Solomon's face if he learnt his pupil's sentiments.

Rajko raised an empty glass to Azathor's comments. "I have to agree," he said monotonously. "More than likely, we'll end up cutting through the war-torn battlefields. Which... Will be interesting."

"And it's not as if our enemies will sit idle too. I think there's something..." His voice trailed off into silence. Eyes languidly searched the room. Searching for the right words. "Looming on the horizon." Imprecise, illogical forebodings, loathed by Rajko, give way to more ache. Fingers fruitlessly trying to massage the pain away.

He groaned. "If anyone's got a cure for this, I'd be happy. Otherwise, I'll go to the market to find relief."

"Why the fuck did y'all make air into a weapon? Half of the guys I saw down there were missing faces or had no lungs left."

"Why did we weaponize anything? They use to drop burning oil over castle walls."

 

[Infab]

"We might not have a choice." Azathor commented to Rebecca as she remarked on her hesitation to enter one of the battlefields currently raging. "Given what I've heard of war here, we might not have time to bandy around the battlefield. Not when the Icons are running amok in search of them."

"I have no idea what made the living get into yet another war. The stray souls that made it down to us weren't keen on sharing details on account of finding themselves in the burning Abyss." He looked at his new allies "Why the fuck did y'all make air into a weapon? Half of the guys I saw down there were missing faces or had no lungs left."

"Taranoch and his Icons are twisting the minds of the Mortal Realm's empires against each other, so that they will fight amongst themselves. So, when all the empires of the world are in ashes, Taranoch can move in and establish his kingdom. A new Age of Darkness emerges." explained Rebecca, looking to Constantine. "As for weaponizing air... killing in great numbers is more efficient than killing one by one. Likely the same reason they developed artillery and these new 'machine guns'."

"Why did we weaponize anything? They use to drop burning oil over castle walls."

"Indeed. And fling bloated corpses and cow carcasses in order to spread disease and terror." muttered Rebecca, "Creativity blooms in both the best and worst situations." As she finished, she stepped over to offer her healing magic to Rajko. Saying a silent prayer before placing a hand over his head. Within seconds, he started to feel much better.

As Gribov made his way into the inn, carrying a backpack and carefully stepping over debris scattered about the floor, he eventually stopped at one of the tables near the inn's main entrance. "Good morning. I see something... exciting happened here?" he said, his thick Tsavanian accent flowing forth as he spoke.

Rebecca nodded, before motioning to Constantine sitting nearby at the bar. "We managed to eliminate two of the Icons, and get the Amulet of Gyasis, but the knight with us named Royland used one of his wraith abilities on one of the Icons. The act has major repercussions on his mind, so he had to be taken back to the Abyss by force. Constantine, here, is his replacement."

"Ah... alright." responded Gribov, "I hope he'll be alright then. I don't really know too much about wraiths, or anything else from the Abyss in general. Abyssal studies wasn't a particularly fascinating path for me. Most I know is there's good and bad demons, and the bad demons need to be banished or killed."

He set the backpack down on the table, before turning to look back at the group. "I heard the lot of you talking about going through the battlefields and frontlines of the war. Likely wondering how you'll be getting to the other artifacts." he said, folding his arms. "Well... you'll be doing just that. Eternis let me know via our angel friends that I've been assigned to lead you through the frontline in the highlands into Tsavania."

He paused for a moment to let it sink in. "...Once we're in the motherland, we stick close to the southern border until we reach a specific point on the border with Daristein. Then, I send you through. You'll link up with the warlord Riberta, who will help you from there. She'll be the one that helps you find the next artifact in the old Dwarven lands in the mountains."

As he finished, there was an abrupt noise in the back of the inn. They had heard the noise before: a portal had opened. Likely from the Abyss. And a moment later, the door to one of the back rooms opened. Out stepped Tariun, clad in her familiar human vessel. And the moment that she bore witness to the state her inn was in, the pleasant expression on her face vanished.

"A-Adriel have mercy..." she muttered, her eyes widened as she looked about. Taking in the extent of the damage. She didn't think apprehending Royland would prove THIS destructive!