Fantasy Hunter's Moon: The Sin & Sentence [IC] [CLOSED]

[Infab]

Soon enough, David straightened up and glanced to Rachel. "Well, I think I'm going to retire for the night. We'll have to be right back at the summit tomorrow morning, so..." he said, to which Rachel nodded. "Hopefully tomorrow proves more fruitful than today." she replied, before looking to Cosmina. "...If you're really wish to relocate to Nocturne, you can swing back by here tomorrow night. I'll look into helping you regarding money and resources."

David raised an eyebrow towards Rachel, before glancing to Cosmina himself. "...Trust me, she means it." he stated simply, before nodding to Rachel again. And a moment later, he strolled away. It wasn't long before Rachel followed, giving Cosmina a final smile and nodding towards Jasper.

------
​

Elsewhere...
Taranoch's Palace
Dis


"...I have had enough of this." were the words that flowed forth from Taranoch's mouth, as he looked upon the map stretched across the stone table before him. The other demons around the table visibly twitched, yet Taranoch's advisor stood as stiff as one of the stone pillars holding the roof far above them. Taranoch straightened up, his eyes still looking down at the map, and he spoke again. "Mazgith...gather my forces. We will be going to the front. I will crush Ethraeil and his followers myself. Instruct Azgon to wait here for my return. I will punish him for his failure to end the Lich's attacks." His gaze shifted up to his advisor, whom simply bowed her head. "Yes, my lord."

It didn't take long for Taranoch's forces to be gathered. It never did, lest Taranoch's fury be cast down upon them instead of upon their foes. They gathered en mass outside of Dis, all armored and wielding hellish weapons. A wide variety of soldiers, of each and every type. There were even Elementals among them, though these were those that had spent far more time on their craft and no longer resembled their former selves. Mazgith had changed into a proper battle attire, now sporting armored plating over her dark robe. Taranoch, meanwhile, was still unarmored. He wouldn't need it.

With a wave, Taranoch signaled Mazgith to open her portals. And she did. Massive portals appeared nearby, and the demonic troops were given the order to move forth into them. On the other side, their battlefield. He observed, his black and gold eyes gazing over his personal forces. And soon, he glanced one final time to Mazgith before moving towards one of the portals himself. Mazgith followed obediently, her robe wavering gently as she almost floated across the ground after him.

Once through the portal, Taranoch moved away from his forces. They knew what he was about to do, so most simply stood by and waited. And soon, across the vast lands and battlefields of the land of Wrath, the loudest roar the Abyss had ever known could be heard. The Demon King of the Abyss had made his presence known.

 

[joshuadim]

THE WARFRONT​

The fighting had yet again been long and hard, as always, for the forces of the undead as they battered their way into the wrath demons and elementals that awaited them. Blood was shed, lives were claimed, and more bodies were created to join the horde of the resurrected that now assailed the Abyss. Ethraeil sliced a demon in half that had dared approach to close to him as he walked through the lines towards an elemental. The creature put up a good fight but soon enough found its head relieved from its body as he tore it off entirely before crushing the skull with his hand. The battle seemed to be on its last legs as the Wrath forces were pushed to their brink and seemed to be on the retreat. Yet Ethraeil knew something was wrong, as he surveyed the battlefield around him and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Azgon, and most of his higher ranking officers, were nowhere to be seen: did they retreat and leave their soldiers to die? Impossible. Azgon would be too proud to run away from a battle against him, especially after all the pain and suffering he had inflicted on the Icon's realm.

The Lich King's lieutenants quickly made themselves apparent nearby as they continued their slaughter, with only Selethar and Malric staying close by his side as Baldathar caved in a demon's chest with his bare hands while Velkor ripped the souls of nearly a dozen demons out of their bodies for his own use. Meanwhile, Auriel soared above in the sky and roared as she cast down a deathly blue flame onto scores of demons unlucky enough to be caught in her wake. A decisive victory seemed to be at hand, but Ethraeil did not celebrate and stayed silent which caught the attention of his most loyal lieutenant. "My lord, a glorious victory awaits us... what troubles you?" Selethar asked inquisitively and with a tone of concern.

"Something is not right." Ethraeil stated, looking about still. "A victory like this should not be possible."

Just as he finished his sentence however, he and all his subordinates felt it. An overpowering aura unlike any other they had ever felt, but one that Ethraeil recognized all to quickly. Its source was far away, but the sheer strength it radiated could be felt even here. And then Ethraeil saw him: a demon unlike any other towering like a mountain over the entire battlefield. A figure he had not seen since the Age of Darkness and the source of all his suffering and pain throughout the centuries. A true symbol of original evil made material that let everything know that it was here. And not only that, a new army of demons flooded forth to charge at the undead like a storm of swords and flesh.

Yet that mattered not to the Lich King as he trembled in fury, gripping his runeblade tighter than he ever had before. The rage swelled up inside him in such powerful swells that it broke the dam of self-control that he had inside him this entire time. His thinking numbed, the flames from his reconstituted eyes turned green before shifting to an ominous crimson red as he grunted and growled before giving off a primal, gutteral roar of his own as a challenge to the Demon King.

​

And he only saw RED as he charged forth into the fray, killing and massacring without grace or technique as his fury took complete control of him. Burning through the power of thousands of souls every second he carved a bloody path towards his nemesis, leaving both demon and elemental alike torn apart in his wake. His own lieutenants, realizing what danger their lord was putting himself in rushed as quickly as they could through this new chaotic battle to reach Ethraeil, but lagged behind as they found themselves caught in combat against other demons. Selethar, realizing the urgency of the situation, looked towards Malric and Baldathar as they were more easily capable of reaching Ethraeil through brute strength: "GET TO HIM! QUICKLY!" he yelled about as he launched a bolt of dark magic at a nearby demon, melting the flesh off its skin while it flailed and screamed in agony.

The two undead brutes quickly pushed onwards with twice the effort as they tore through victims of their own in their attempt to get near Ethraeil as the latter continued his rampage and inched closer and closer to where Taranoch was. Having pushed as far as he had by this point, Ethraeil moved upwards onto a large rock formation, killing any demon that dared get close and stood upon its peak to witness Taranoch in his purest form approaching. Ethraeil felt no fear, nor any sense of doubt as his fury numbed his reasoning:

he roared, ensuring that his voice was heard over the sounds of battle. He held his runeblade at the ready as the Demon King approached, awaiting the moment he had so long sought for after a thousand years. A chance at revenge, for himself, his realm, his liege, and most of all: for his family.

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

Caraborough's Ridge, Island of Caraborough

​

They didn't stop her this time. As they saw her walking down the street, they could see it; that thing tied around her neck. Its colors flash at them as it sways gently from side to side, showing off just who she belongs to now. Eyes that looked at her with horrible intentions were turned away. Hands that usually held knives and guns now held the walls as they're desperate to get out of her way. Mouths that sounded off all sorts of vile threats and promises had been snapped shut, and not one man among them all dared say a word to Rakta now that she's been definitively marked as Kregore's property.

For days it's been like this. She'd stumble out of the church, take her time walking down the Warder's execution road and into the streets, go and collect whatever she and her orphans need from the various markets and stores, sulk back up the trail, and go back to bed all while the horrible revelation Undite had told her weighed down on her head and especially her spirit crushingly. Though maybe, just maybe if the orphans were lucky that day, she'd look in their direction; though with that look on her face which worried them. They knew something was wrong, but no amount of hugs or whatever various arts and crafts creations seemed to do the trick.

Today's not going to be any different, she feels. So again, she goes through her routine of sliding out of her bed, hardly tiding herself up, and heading down to the slums below to spend whatever money Kregore has been 'generously' paying her. She didn't say anything to her orphans either as she left. They'll eventually just have to get used to her not waking them up from now on. Now on the streets, the hushed whispers and pointing fingers go completely unnoticed by her as she strolls through rows of shocked faces towards one of the many markets.

She could hear a group leaning around a wall talking among each other as she passes them by. One of them, holding a gun in his hands and ill thoughts in his head, breaks away and starts trailing her from behind... until one of his friends quickly pulls him back.

"Don't. That's Warhead's woman!" he warns him.

Angry, he shoves his friend off of him. "Warhead ain't here! He won't know!"

"Are you dof!? The whole island will know!" And they will know what occurred when they see his remains displayed in the square. The two continue arguing between themselves until they're thankfully out of earshot. The sounds of gunfire in the distance, flies buzzing, and metal bending were replaced by coins jingling, loud murmurs, and laughter as Ratka entered the warehouse district by the port. The warehouse district, once used as storage for all the various jewels and resources dug up by the inmates, has become a market center where all sorts of scum could sell whatever wares they've smuggled overseas or even produced themselves. Little booths filled with a wide variety of goods such as low-quality weaponry not even the Warders bothered to confiscate, dusty clothes which might've been taken off of the deceased, various kinds of alcohol (including some of the local moonshine), "fresh" foods, and even people scattered themselves in some grid-like formation across the warehouse floor. And buzzing around these little booths were hundreds of people looking to buy things with whatever money they've earned, stolen, or begged for. One such booth is catching most of the attention today; one ran by the Geldmakkers themselves. They always have the highest quality goods, yet it's always rare for anyone to buy anything from them since their inventory gets sold out rather quickly. Hopefully, this will not be the case for Ratka. Her somewhat acceptance into the Warders by the Warhead himself ought to give her a certain priority above the rest of the 'franse'. At least she thinks it will...

One of the members of the 76'es is showing off an assortment of finely woven scarves, another just finished selling off a box full of opium, and another is hawking a collection of somewhat fresh fruits at a table he's sitting by; fruits that are considerably fresher than the others being sold in the warehouse. A few of them have blemishes here and there, some even have tiny spots of mold, but they certainly look edible and Ratka doesn't feel particularly picky anymore; the children would also have to learn to not be picky either in the coming days. She awkwardly takes a spot in front of him, staring right at his face as she waits and expects him to notice her presence so he can finally sell some. The time passes by painfully and slowly. Buyers come and go, the piles of semi-fresh fruit grow smaller, and Ratka is left standing there by herself. It's obvious by the vendor's eyes darting from side to side occasionally that he's trying very hard to ignore Ratka no matter how long she continues standing there and waiting for him to answer. Eventually, a pair of Staafmans also arrive and take their place behind Ratka, and he signals to the both of them under the table and with an angry glare that something is very wrong here. One nods back; they know. Both of them get behind Ratka, and with a quick burst of movement, nearly throw her to the ground as the bandanna around her neck is undone and ripped off. Nearly throwing her off her feet a second time is the vendor slamming down hard on the table; springing to his feet with a look of seething rage all over him.

"What's your problem, bitch!? Are you trying to get me into trouble!?" he growls through his teeth.

"... I-I just wanted some fruits." Ratka sheepishly states to the ground; unwilling to look him back in his eyes.

The vendor leans in closer; Ratka can feel spittle fall on her face. "You're one of the fucking 77's aren't you?"

Ratka nods in response. "... Yes."

"And doesn't your dog of a leader feed you?"

Ratka looks down sullenly. "... No. He does not."

"Then feeding you is not my fucking problem. Take it up with him instead of asking us for help." He shakes his head in resentment. "You should know better than for us to give you any, warpig."

At first, the dead look in Ratka's eyes go right through him until his words stop bouncing around in her head and finally register. There's a reason for the hostility, and a reason why the Geldmakkers seem to loathe the Warders so much: something about a civil war between the Numbers. A gang war that broke out due to the Warders preying on what would eventually be the Geldmakkers. Things spiraled so out of control that the Staafmans had to step in and fought them back. Word of it has been suppressed heavily by the Numbers due to it being condemned as an embarrassment that shouldn't have happened. It's now only spoken in hushed half-truths and baseless gossip among the franse, but memories of it still live on in the heads of those who witnessed it. Now she remembers, and now she feels worse for having angered someone with her ignorance.

"Oh..." she mumbles softly. "... I'll leave." she says, turning around.

The vendor speaks up one last time. "And take your box with you." He kicks a box full of fruit towards her from under the table. This oddly generous gift takes Ratka by absolute surprise. She doesn't know what to say or how to thank him, but she's not going to let this go to waste. For the first time in days, some form of emotion sparks from within with a short draw of her breath capitalizing it.

Slowly, and keeping her eyes on the vendor, she bends over and picks it up; still in shock at this gesture of kindness. "You... You're helping me."

The vendor nods. "For taking care of my brat for me. Now go, and tell the Warhead he ought to consider apologizing to us if you think he really has a heart." He then nods at the Staafman that took her bandanna off who then ties it back around her neck and shoves her away.

Ratka isn't willing to stick around long enough for him to change his mind, so she hurries out of the warehouse and back into her church before anyone can try to rob her or take any "donations" from the box. She's finally back on the mountain, and both her and the box are thankfully mostly intact. She opens up the church door and steps into the dark inside. There's no children running down the stairs or leaping out of their beds, but she can see a few curious eyes stare at her from their little bedroom above. They quickly disappear the second she looks back. The box is clumsily set down at the altar; near the covered-up statue of Undite tucked away in the corner. With her chore finished and with nothing else at all to do, she takes out a bottle of wine in a nearby cabinet that was to be used in holy ceremonies and begins drinking straight out of it. The wall she's staring at progressively becomes blurrier and blurrier and keeps drinking in the hopes she'll forget what it looks like.

 

[K0mori]

Through the darkened streets, in and out of curiosity shops and little tents lit by lantern light, Sabine cheerfully led Sylvain in her search for the strange, peppering the vampire with all sorts of questions about his lifestyle and occupation. As they talked, the awkwardness of it all began to fade, and Sylvain somehow found himself enjoying the evening, despite having better things to do at the moment.

Finally, as the two were looking over a collection of supposedly-enchanted jewelry, displayed carelessly in an open glass case in front of a temporary shop stall, the girl lifted a bluish white gemstone and held it next to the moon, examining its intricate facets in the soft, silvery light. "You can't hold this like I can," she remarked, idly. "The little bits of metal in there are silver, I think." She looked to the merchant, who was an old man with thick glasses who apparently didn't mind a vampire's company.

He gave a slight nod. "That it is... it's alloyed, but, yes," he rasped. "The crystal resonates with the moonlight and guides you towards fortune."

"Sure I can," Sylvain said to Sabine's earlier assertion, amused both by her, as well as the shopkeeper's blatant scam. "Would you like to see my magic?" He reached into his coat pocket, and when he pulled his hand back out, it was shielded by a leather glove. "Abracadabra," he said, and then took up the trinket between his thumb and pointer finger. "It's not so hard to get by, you know. You learn little tips and tricks here and there, and settle into the life... It's been a long time since silver has burned me."

"What about the sun?" Sabine asked, her tone not so interrogational anymore.

Sylvain looked down at her and saw genuine concern in her eyes. He chuckled a bit under his breath, hoping to reassure her. "Ah, the sun is a bit more difficult to contend with, I'll admit, but all it takes to beat it is a good hiding spot. And I'm very good at hiding. I've done it for two hundred years, after all."

Again, Sabine's eyes went wide. Thoughts of eternal life, of freedom, strength and speed flashed through her imagination like a bolt of lightning. Her heart began to beat faster, although she was too frightened to push the conversation in the direction she wanted to take it- to be so young, asking such serious questions. Instead, she pretended to take interest in the gemstone, which was attached to a simple ribbon of velvet. "H-how much for this?" she asked the merchant.

He looked down on her, his large, magnified eyes drooping and tired. "That one? I couldn't easily let that one go, even for such a sweet little girl," he replied, a bit patronizingly. He looked to Sylvain, who shot him a bit of a glare as he knew the merchant was working him. But as he reached into his pocket to get out a few coins, there was a metallic jangle down below, and to his surprise, Sabine had taken out a tiny coin purse she had been carrying all along, and placed two gold coins on the counter- many times the value of the phony glass jewelry. Now, Sylvain stared the merchant down with an almost deadly seriousness, and the latter stared back, unprepared, before taking both coins in his hand. A moment later, he had prepared a handful of change, many silver coins, which he deposited into Sylvain's outstretched gloved hand.

The vampire did some quick arithmetic and realized the shopkeeper had simply exchanged the gold for silver coins, minus a negligible amount. "Here, Sabine," Sylvain said, "your change." As she placed the coins in her tiny, child-sized purse, Sylvain took up the velvet ribbon and placed the necklace over the girl's head, gently tying a bow for her before brushing her hair through the loop with his fingers. Sabine gasped, although he hadn't touched her skin, she could still feel the cold of his touch, and she turned around to face him. Sylvain looked away, nervously. He hadn't intended to frighten her. "I think maybe it's time to wrap this up, don't you?" he said casually.

Sabine nodded, and the two began to walk back toward the Stewart Bros. Hotel where the Fallenstellers were staying, but they had only gone a block before Sabine stopped. "Herr Sylvain," she said, suddenly going straight as a rod and speaking in a more rehearsed, stately voice- the one she used when she wanted to sound older than she was, "I have a proposal."

Sylvain smiled wearily. "Oh?"

"What if... I wanted to be a-" Sabine stopped asking the question and took on a crestfallen expression as she knew, just from Sylvain's reaction, what his answer would be.

He shook his head. "I would never turn a child," he replied. It was a lie, of course; his duties as a ranking member of House Le Rouge required him to make some unsavory decisions on occasion. But he was reluctant when it came to Sabine. He liked her, and inflicting the kiss of the night on such a young person was far more of a curse than a gift, no matter how well-off that person might be. She's so innocent, like a lamb, Sylvain cautioned himself.

"But, I-" Sabine stammered, "I have money, or, at least, my father has money-"

Annoyed, Sylvain reiterated his position. "While my fangs are for hire, dear, just as I said before, I won't turn a child. How would you even convince him to pay?"

"I- I wouldn't," she quickly answered, and with a sort of conviction that sent a chill down the vampire's spine, looked him dead in the eye and said, "I would repay you with the inheritance."

Sylvain's mouth hung open for a moment in silence as he was at a loss for words. He ran his tongue across his teeth and reassessed his perceptions. "...How much money does your father have?" he asked, slowly and carefully. He suppressed a twinge of a smile at the corner of his mouth, as he wondered about the taste of Sabine's blood. He was fixated on her now, now that she had revealed a corrupted side to him, something that was dirty and evil all along which would allow him to ignore his conscience. "The gift doesn't come cheap, you know."

But as he spoke, he had been ignoring a strange aura which was quickly approaching, and by the time she spoke, she was close enough that he nearly jumped out of his skin. "Hello, stranger," Dorothy greeted him. "Hello... Sabine."

 

[Infab]

As the armies of Taranoch clashed with the undead forces of Ethraeil and his lieutenants, the Demon King towered over the landscape. Observing the battlefield from high above, overseeing the onslaught that occurred at his feet. As powerful and massive as he was, he need not worry about being damaged by Ethraeil's undead underings. A simple stomp or kick would put them in their proper places...in the ground. He glanced down to his shoulder, where his advisor Mazgith sat quietly observing the landscape herself.

He spoke to her, his mouth never moving but his orange, inferno-like eyes locked onto her. "See that the Elementals have proper reinforcement. Whatever you need to do, do it. I shall search for the Lich and his friends." he said, his voice entering Mazgith's mind much like a soft whisper. The only kindness he would grant to others. His powerful voice would blow one apart if he used a louder tone.

"Yes, my lord. I shall see the task completed." she replied, before vanishing from his shoulder. He then turned his attention back to his feet, and then heard it. A booming voice, calling his name. He had heard it before, long ago. And now it was the target of his ire.

"Your insurrection will meet its end here, Ethraeil. And I will see your skull mounted upon the wall behind my throne...alongside the heads of your lieutenants." he spoke, his head turning to face where Ethraeil stood below. And from where the Lich stood, he had a full view of the mighty Demon King. Taranoch's massive form was a slick black, with only streaks of red here and there running up his four arms and four legs. He resembled a centaur of legend, really, a strange muscular lower half extending down and back slightly to allow for four lower limbs. His horns were long, jutting high off the top of his head, and three hellish eyes gazed down at Ethraeil with a burning hatred. An orange light gleamed forth from inside Taranoch's massive maw, as if a furnace roared inside his throat. Off of his back were odd shaped spiked appendages, which looked much like portions of wings but damaged and mangled.

He took one step forward, and laid several of Ethraeil's undead servants to waste as he planted his massive clawed foot down atop them. "I rule the Abyss with absolute power and authority. I have ended the lives of countless demons, mortals, and angels with but a flick of my fingers. I tore open the boundary between the Abyss and the Mortal Realm. I am the single most powerful being in this hellscape of a realm, as well as in countless other realms...and you still seek to slay me? Your thirst for vengeance has lead you to your doom."

------
​

Elsewhere...

The Church
Caraborough's Ridge
Caraborough Island


Undite emerged from the portal into darkness. Thankfully, being a vampire, that didn't matter much. She looked around quietly, taking in how things might have changed since she visited the last time...and found that there were no children here. And that the statue of her was now covered and placed aside out of view. Surprised, she continued to look about. Had the church been abandoned? Where was Sister Ratka? Then, she found that familiar aura nearby. "Sister Ratka? Are you alright?" she asked softly, moving towards it cautiously.

 

[joshuadim]

Blinded by rage, Ethraeil was unfazed by the threats of the Demon King before him as he quivered with anticipation to strike out ahead at him. But first, he would need to knock him down a few notches. "IF you are so almighty then face me at my level, coward." the Lich King spat with hatred towards the towering figure as his gaze met that of the demon's. "Single combat. We'll see who lives, and who DIES."

Malric was still hurrying as quickly as he could to get to Ethraeil, hacking and slashing through demons in front of him to carve a path but remained slowed by the tidal wave of demons that continued to pour out and attack their own army. He let out a gutteral screech as he let Baldathar know of his status and how he was delayed, the latter of whom let out a roar to let Velkor know of the situation. The lesser lich quickly moved on his own towards where Ethraeil was making his stand in a hurried pace, slamming his mace and magic into any demon that got near. They needed to reinforce him, and fast.

 

[K0mori]

"H-how do you know my name?" Sabine stammered as she wheeled back, as if to hide behind Sylvain, only to find that the vampire was also retreating. "I- I don't know you!"

Dorothy, patient as ever, adjusted her golden hair and answered calmly and pleasantly: "I don't quite know, myself. Sometimes ideas just come to me. I knew, for example, that I would be meeting someone tonight- someone who would come from the Stewart Bros. Hotel. And earlier, I saw you, from down below, looking down on me, but I don't believe you noticed."

Sabine shook her head, momentarily unable to remember the brief moment she stared down at the streets from the hotel window, until she realized it was the very inspiration that motivated her late-night escape into the city. "You were watching me!? Then, if that's true, why weren't you waiting for me outside?"

"I had a feeling that it wasn't the correct time. I think... I'm supposed to show you something that can only be seen at this late hour."

Sylvain finally spoke up. "Lady, I have to ask... what are you? Your aura is different than anything I've ever encountered..."

"My name is Dorothy. I am... especially blessed," Dorothy answered mysteriously, "by my benefactor. He has altered my soul, among other gifts, to grant me eternal youth. But I am not a vampire." She turned her attention back to Sabine. "My Master is a generous one, eager to find others to accept his blessings. Is that what you are seeking?"

Sabine held her head and felt dizzy, and wondered whether her entire journey had been some sort of elaborate dream, as nothing which was currently happening seemed possible. "Well..." she said, nervously, "yes, but... I don't-"

"Enough with this," Sylvain declared, having finally found his courage. He stepped forward and got in between Dorothy and Sabine. "You need to leave. I'm taking this girl home to her parents."

Dorothy's ever-present smile briefly disappeared. "Oh? If I heard correctly before, you were about to impart your curse upon little Sabine in exchange for her father's fortune, were you not...? I'm sorry, I don't know your name. Perhaps your interference isn't part of my plans tonight. If that's the case, you may go now."

"I'm not going anywhere," Sylvain replied. "Sabine, I think this woman is some kind of demon cultist. Becoming a vampire is one thing, but just look at her- the way she talks, the way she acts... Something is wrong with her and the way she serves her master. She's probably lying to us right now. You fall into whatever devil-worshipping life she's inviting you to, you'll regret it, I can promise you that."

Sabine looked to Sylvain desperately, then back to Dorothy, who was shaking her head. The latter spoke up: "I won't be introducing you to my benefactor tonight, but I am meant to show you something. Something you desperately desire, and then we will part ways. And, since your friend does not want to leave us, then perhaps he is meant to come along." Dorothy suddenly gasped and smiled broadly. "Why, yes, I do believe you are supposed to come along, Mr. Savatier."

Sylvain's expression melted from hostile to astonished. Maybe this woman could see the future, or perhaps she was psychic. Either way, she had somehow correctly addressed him. "...My name is Sylvain, but, yes..." he managed to reply. "It's Sylvain Savatier, that's correct. Can we please at least give Sabine a choice in the matter? Sabine, do you really want to go with this woman and see what she wants to show you? We can still go back to the hotel if you want."

"...I want to know," Sabine said. "You can protect me, right?" she asked.

Sylvain frowned. "I don't know." He looked back at Dorothy, fearfully. "I truly don't know."

"I mean neither of you harm," she said, smiling softly and raising her hands.

---
​

A few minutes of walking and awkward conversation later, the trio arrived at a darkened storefront. Dorothy walked to the door and knocked, and after a moment, an old, bearded man opened it a few inches. The two began to talk while Sylvain and Sabine stood further away, under the shade of a weathered hickory tree. "Whatever happens in there, I want you to know that you're in control of your own destiny," Sylvain cautioned. "That woman has some dark tricks, but don't let her convince you that she knows what's best for you. Only you can do that. And if you want to go through with that... proposal... you made earlier, then you can contact me, and I'll come again. I just think you ought to wait a few more years. It's not fun to be trapped in a child's body forever."

With that, he pulled out a small business card from his coat pocket and handed it to Sabine. "Just write a letter to this address," he said.

Dorothy returned and gathered the pair, inviting them into the building. They stepped through the darkened store and through the storage room in the back, out another door and into a small open lot completely enclosed by other buildings and isolated from the streets. In the center of the lot, an eerie green bonfire was burning without smoke, and seated in a large circle around it were numerous figures, mostly hooded with their features hidden. A few beady eyes peered out from beneath the cloth to study the intruders as they stepped into the scene. "What is this?" Sylvain asked.

"This is a gathering of the dark arts," the shopkeeper explained, quietly. "The tradition of witchcraft survives, even in this era of industry and alchemical dominance. The old way still has its practitioners, and I'm one of them. We're not a secret society... we welcome visitors. But we have been forced to hide from the Church and its Inquisitors for years. Your associate has informed me that the little girl you've brought is here to discover her future."

"And you believe her?" Sylvain asked.

The shopkeeper shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? She knew we were here. Are you her parents?"

Sylvain endeavored to explain the extremely strange circumstances of the trio's meeting to the increasingly intrigued shopkeeper. Meanwhile, Sabine wandered around the lot, watching the strange, hooded folks whispering into their magic books, grinding ingredients and mixing potions, and one woman speaking to a black cat, which obeyed her every word. It was everything she had hoped for when she left the hotel: a secret world right under everyone's nose, full of magic and mystery. She already knew magic was real, she just never imagined it would be within reach. She quickly made her way back to her guides. "Am I going to be a witch?" she asked, excitedly.

"Do you want to be a witch, Sabine?" The shopkeeper asked.

She nodded with a toothy grin. She no longer cared if she looked like a child.

The shopkeeper scratched his chin. "Well, then I suppose we should start with the pact of the moon. I'll get a fresh grimoire and some basic books out of the attic. Brothers and sisters," he said a bit loudly, "This is Sabine Fallensteller, all the way from Daristein. She wants to learn the ways of magic and she doesn't have very much time to study with us. Please share with her a bit of what you know." With that, he disappeared into the store, and a couple of the hooded figures reluctantly put down their implements and came over to say hello. Although Sylvain was watching them carefully, they didn't seem to pose any sort of threat, and soon he found himself dejected and confused, standing off to the side with Dorothy, who watched in a state of total complacency.

"Well, you've turned the girl into a witch," Sylvain spat. "Are you done with her now?"

"Almost. I need to speak with her one last time," Dorothy replied, before she approached Sabine once again. "Sabine, I've shown you what you were meant to see, but I must tell you one more thing. My Master will one day share my gifts with you, and more. But to find him, you will need to find someone very important." She paused a moment to ensure that the girl was paying close attention, and she was. By this point, Sabine knew that Dorothy truly understood her deepest desires. Dorothy spoke again: "You will need to find Christoph Heilmeier."

"Christoph Heilmeier..." Sabine repeated, and Dorothy nodded and walked away. She paused a moment in the doorway, waved politely at Sylvain, and then disappeared into the dark interior. Soon, the shopkeeper would return, and under the moonlight, illuminated by the weird, green bonfire, Sabine laboriously wrote of her intent to master witchcraft, to become a great and feared witch, and to be of one mind with the dark spirits at play. She pierced her right palm with a knife to wet her fingertips on her left hand, and sealed the first page of her grimoire. A few minutes later, she cast her first spell, briefly worsening the flow of blood from her own wound. It was a gift to Sylvain, who had waited patiently in the corner of the lot for nearly an hour.

After a vial was prepared, her spell was reversed by a more experienced mage, and her palm was bandaged. She was instructed on how to locate a local coven or gathering in Daristein, should she not be able to return to the circle the following night.

Finally, at no earlier than 4AM, she finally departed for the hotel with Sylvain.

"I was thinking, maybe I'll be a witch, and a vampire," Sabine said as they walked.

Sylvain took one last sip of the girl's blood before slipping the empty vial into his pocket. "And what would you do with all that power?" he asked. "To be a rich, magical vampire... Hah, imagine if 'fate' decides you're going to be a pureblood on top of it all..."

Sabine shrugged. "I want to do all sorts of things. I want to live forever, of course, but I'd also like to be the richest woman in the world, or maybe I could make myself a queen! Oh, and I'd love to talk to bats."

"Bats!?" Sylvain repeated.

"Oh yes, they're my favorite," Sabine replied. "I want to talk to them, just like that nice lady and her cat. But I'd like it if the bats would talk back to me... Has anyone been a rich lady vampire witch before?" she suddenly asked.

Sylvain was still reeling from the bat conversation and took a moment to respond. "Well, yes, actually, more than one. In fact, there was a Countess from Escaria who recently passed away, Madame Desrosiers-"

"Oh yeah," Sabine grumbled, having remembered the speech given by Juste earlier that day. She yawned. "I'm going to be stuck at the summit again tomorrow. Will you be there too?"

"Probably," Sylvain said as they reached the front doors of the hotel, "but your parents aren't going to want me to speak with you."

Sabine grinned, devilishly. "Then meet me here tomorrow night and we can walk together back to Mr. Caldwell's store together so I can get my next lessons."

"I don't think so," Sylvain said. "Tonight was fun, Sabine, but I have things to do that I've been neglecting. We already have our little arrangement with that card I gave you, so why should I keep coming around?"

"It'll be good for you to be my friend," Sabine argued.

Sylvain smirked. "How so?"

"Because someday," Sabine declared, "I'll rule the world."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

"Sister Ratka? Are you alright?"

A huddled shape on one of the pews shudders briefly before it raises its head towards Undite's voice. Ratka briefly looks back at her with a weary face almost absent of any emotion before turning back to face the wall again.

She's definitely not alright.

 

[Infab]

"IF you are so almighty then face me at my level, coward. Single combat. We'll see who lives, and who DIES."

"Your words and insults mean nothing to me. I do as I please, Lich, as I have nothing to prove to anyone." responded the towering Demon King. And a moment later, with a surprising amount of speed for a being so large, he rushed Ethraeil. Each stomp of his feet crushed all beneath him, and a low swing of his claws caught a large portion of the ground before him. The landscape was torn open, chunks of rock and soil flying up Taranoch's hand and into the air. And Ethraeil had little time to react.

Scooped up into Taranoch's hands, along with the lieutenants that were struggling to get near him, they were sent sailing into the air...and were promptly met by Taranoch's massive hand. Slapped with the force of a fully loaded freight train, they were sent right back into the ground. Hard.

------​

"Sister Ratka...what happened to you?" asked Undite, as she slowly made her way over near where the nun was. Her mind was searching for answers, but most of them lead back to the large man whom had left the summit. Had he abused her? Anger started to build up deep inside, but she suppressed it as best she could.

She made her way over, and sat next to her in the pew. Perhaps she might still be dwelling on what she had told her before? About the gods, and the limited amounts of time they had left before a new cycle began. She gazed towards where normally her statue would sit, taking in how it was now gone from that position and now sitting covered up off to the side.

"Ratka...we all leave this world eventually. One way or another..." she said softly, "...What I said when I visited you...I should have elaborated on it more." She paused for a moment, before sighing and continuing as she looked towards Ratka. "...I want to leave the world having put more good into it than there was before...I want to have made some sort of difference during my time here...You...You exemplify everything I've strived to teach. You're a good person, Sister Ratka...You've maintained this church regardless of what has happened here...and you have provided a safe haven for these children...You have given them a home, and have shown them that there is more than just the gang violence and hatred that covers this isle. You have shown them kindness and decency...something they wouldn't get anywhere else here."

Undite smiled. "...You've shown me that everything I've done here hasn't been in vain. That my struggles and trials have proven fruitful. That I will have left this world a little bit better than it was before." she said, before looking back towards where her statue once stood. "All is not lost, Sister."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

"All is not lost, Sister."

Ratka turns to look back at Undite, and her expression is more serious now.

"But it will be..." she mutters robotically. "Once you're gone..."

And her face breaks since one more thought of her patron goddess dying still proved itself too much to bear, and all the emotion she's been burying ever since she set foot on this island explodes forth as droplets of sweat and tears start rolling down her face. All the beatings, the robberies, having to put up with all the sickness, violence, and filth she's been surrounded with over the years, and only her faith was acting as any sort of protection against being eaten alive by the island. It all came tumbling down just a few days ago with the revelation that the gods aren't as 'godlike' as they seem, and her veil doesn't do a good job of concealing any of it's disastrous effects.

"I-I just... Why did you have to tell me this?! F-For all my life, I told p-people to believe... Y-You were a goddess, Undite! That made it special to them! They know of nothing better! And when you are dead, what will they do? They won't have faith in a c-c-corpse..." A shaky hand clumsily wipes away her face. "I tried so hard to follow your teachings a-and pass them on... But it will not mean anything when you are dead and forgotten... And what about the one who replaces you? What if they are not kind? What am I going to do?"

A few pairs of small eyes look down on both her and Undite from above. Ratka notices them and struggles to hold herself together. She immediately grabs one of Undite's arms just to support herself and stop shaking.

"A-And th-the children... I worry about them the most... I raised them all the best I could, and I worry so much that they'll forget..." Her grip tightens itself as she tries her best to look Undite in her face. "... What was it all for, Undite, when our time is over?"

 

[Infab]

Undite went quiet for a few moments, looking back towards the place where her statue once sat. "...To try and bring some good into a world that needs it. That's what it was all for." she soon said softly. She looked back to Ratka, and smiled again. "I will eventually leave this place...but my teachings will live on as long as someone is there to pass them on....and that is you and the rest of my followers."

She then faintly chuckled. "...And if those are passed on...am I truly dead? I would live on in all that I taught you and the others. In what you teach to your future congregations, and to all the children. The church will continue to teach what I have spoken...written...and taught. I will never truly die...as long as you and others pass on my teachings...and my memory."

She went quiet for a few moments afterwards, but then looked back to Ratka once more. "Keep the faith, Ratka. Believe in all that I have taught you. Have faith in yourself. In others. In the children that you have watched over and protected. Continue to pass on all that I have passed to you. I have faith in you, Ratka, as well as the others and in the children."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

"Keep the faith, Ratka. Believe in all that I have taught you. Have faith in yourself. In others. In the children that you have watched over and protected. Continue to pass on all that I have passed to you. I have faith in you, Ratka, as well as the others and in the children."

"Th-the children..." she mumbles.

She can see it in their eyes that maybe Undite's right. She can see them trying to put on smiles for her as she weeps. So much of her time, her patience, her blood, and her sweat has been spent to raise them as her own in accordance to the church's teachings. She's done everything she could to keep them from being ripped apart by the island, or worse, turned into killing machines for Kregore. To give up on them now, especially when they're still young and vulnerable to the island, would be the worst thing she could do to them. They still need her, and the world still needs people like her; that's something that won't ever change. She can't abandon her duty now, she has to keep the faith just as she says. If not for Undite's supposed divinity, then to at least make the world a better place just as Undite wants.

"I-I am sorry, Undite. It's just that this island, it's... it's awful. I see all these people and all the horrible things they do, and I worry this insanity around me will spread around the world when the people see there is no reason to believe..." Finally, she cautiously lets go of Undite's arm, though she also tries undoing the bandanna around her neck so it'll stop choking her. "I want the world to be good and safe, just like you do. That's... that's why I loved passing on your teachings..." The distant look in her eyes returns briefly as she looks away for a moment. "But I never thought it would be as hard as this... My faith in you is the only thing that has stopped me from going mad like the others... I did not know what else to think when you told me all that... I'm sorry."

 

[Infab]

"Don't be sorry, Sister...Its understandable. We all have our moments of doubt...I have had more than enough for a lifetime...or several." replied Undite. "...I always found a way to keep going. To continue doing what I thought would help the world...There will be trials. Tests. Like this island, and those that live on it. It challenges your faith and resolve to do what's right...but I believe in you. You'll continue on, and you'll let nothing stop you from doing what's right. "

She then smiled again, before looking to the bandana tied around Ratka's neck. An odd sight, and one that was not there before. "Interesting addition to your wardrobe, Sister." she finally commented, motioning towards it.

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

"Don't be sorry, Sister...Its understandable. We all have our moments of doubt...I have had more than enough for a lifetime...or several." replied Undite. "...I always found a way to keep going. To continue doing what I thought would help the world...There will be trials. Tests. Like this island, and those that live on it. It challenges your faith and resolve to do what's right...but I believe in you. You'll continue on, and you'll let nothing stop you from doing what's right. "

Ratka tries smiling back as Undite reassures her; she's certainly feeling a bit more positive now. "W-Well, I-"

But then Undite spoke again.

"Interesting addition to your wardrobe, Sister."

"Oh... this." she says, yanking at it. She lets out a deep sigh before deciding to explain herself. "Well.. after you left because the Warhead came... I was not thinking clearly. For years, he has wanted me to be a part of his group. Why, I do not know... but when he found me that night and pushed me one more time... I gave in." The bandanna's furled around her fingers as she continues. "...I should not be wearing this, I know, but I accepted his offer since I felt like it was the only thing I could do... to save the children, to put us under his protection when you are gone... I just hoped in return he would not make me kill someone."

 

[Infab]

Undite gazed upon the bandana as Ratka spoke, and a smile slowly inched across her face as she finished her explanation. She knew what it was, and she knew exactly why he had given it to her. "...He loves you, Sister." she said, her smile bearing a warmth to it. "...I know because long ago...Gyasis gave me something similar."

She then looked to Ratka's face. "Sister...when he gets back, he's going to say some things. To sway you and break your faith...turn you against the outside world. He saw and heard only the politicians and elite of the continent. Those you and I have come to know as immoral and wrong at times. He will test you...try and push you away from the path and onto a far different one. Never stray from the true path, Sister."

"...Try to sway him. Convince him that there really is good in this world. And there is. You are an example of that good, and those children will grow into fine young individuals...and I'm sure he can change his ways and become a light in this world too. You just have to guide him." She then stood. "...Now...since I wasn't able to stay long last time...Care to introduce me to the children again? I'd love to meet them all and play a while."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

"...He loves you, Sister."

Ratka could only look on rather morosely and shake her head at such a statement. 'No. He does not.' she thinks to herself. And even if he did, the thought makes her shrivel a little. She's not very much into slavers, murderers, or any sort of criminal scum.

"...Try to sway him. Convince him that there really is good in this world. And there is. You are an example of that good, and those children will grow into fine young individuals...and I'm sure he can change his ways and become a light in this world too. You just have to guide him."

Again, Ratka shakes her head. "Like I said before, I have been trying this for years. Nothing has worked, even when I thought getting closer to him like this-" she taps the bandanna. "-would help. He is so deeply entrenched into this island, Undite, that I think not even a divine intervention might save him from it. And if he really does love me... then it makes this so much worse because I know he will want to destroy me. He will want to transform me to be exactly like him because I know he loves nothing else but all the violence, all the death, all the power, all the cruelty he can indulge himself in."

She takes a deep breath and rubs her head in contemplation. She really doesn't want to try again since she knows already how fruitless every endeavor she's taken to get him to turn his life around has been. Though suddenly, her mind goes to Velin for a moment. She's heard about what happened on the mainland, and Undite herself said Velin is trying to change for the better. If someone as vicious as her could get herself to end her mass killings, then perhaps...

"But I suppose for the sake of keeping the faith alive, I could try again. Though... I will expect no change from him."

It's likely he won't, and she knows that. But if Undite could change someone like Velin, then maybe it's worth another try.

"...Now...since I wasn't able to stay long last time...Care to introduce me to the children again? I'd love to meet them all and play a while."

The children come out into the light with a few even walking down the stairs slowly towards Undite. Ratka stands up too and adjusts her clothing to look less slovenly. "Ah! Sure, sure..." she says. "Infact, there was something I wanted to do before you arrived, and now is the perfect time! Give me just one moment..."

Ratka slides towards her little room in the back of the church. A few minutes pass by until she appears again, this time carrying out with her a box full of what looks like little outfits she's most likely woven herself.

"Undite, could you help me with these?"

-Moments later-​

A dozen giddy children dressed up neatly in grey costumes to look like rats and mice jump up and down in excitement around both Undite and Ratka; the latter of which is now adorned with a set of rat ears and a long rat tail made of dyed rope under her habit. Ratka clasps her hands together loudly to catch their attention.

"Ok, everyone!" she exclaims with a big smile. "Find the cheese!"

With jolts of energy in every step, the pack of children loudly and quickly disperse throughout the bright interior of the church, scampering and giggling all around while they search behind every shelf, under every pew, in every drawer, and every nook and cranny they come across. The secret treasure they're zipping around to find? A nicely-sized quarter of a delectable Escarian cheese wheel tucked away somewhere within the church. Ratka looks on in delight as the children have fun enjoying this little game she's made. She watches their smiles and hears their laughs, and seeing her orphans having so much fun eventually makes her start laughing along with them too. The despair that's been hanging over her head these past few days dissipates slowly but surely as she dwells on Undite's words as she watches. Looking at them while knowing the depravity happening at the base of the mountain is a reminder of how valuable she is to these orphans, and how valuable they are to her in return. Undite may not be a true goddess as she believed, but her words and teachings are eternal. It's up to her to make it all last, and just as Undite said she's succeed with her, Ratka can see she's succeeding with the children. And it finally clicks with her: that's how she'll be around forever. As long as her lessons of peace and love are still within the hearts and minds of people, Undite will still live. She'll die physically, but at least her words will be around forever, and that'll be enough.

 

[joshuadim]

Ethraeil simply groaned as he got back up and readied himself with another combat stance with his sword. "Fine. I'll cut you down to size myself." he simply stated as he charged forward. Velkor and Malric meanwhile were slower to get up but quickly pushed themselves ahead with the opening unwittingly made by the Demon King for them to join the fight. Ethraeil was the first to land a blow as he dodged an attempt to crush him and swung his sword at Taranoch's foot, but quickly realized that his attack seemed to do nothing but simply bounce off the skin as an audible clang could be heard. Taken aback, Ethraeil quickly pushed himself with an unholy speed to another spot at the Demon King's foot and struck again only to be met with the same results. With his anger continued to strengthen its grasp on his mind, he furiously swung over and over again and roared in anger before being swatted away again by Taranoch.

Malric was having as much luck with his own attacks while Velkor flung bolts of dark magic to seemingly no effect on the Demon King, which worried the lich enough to rush over to where Ethraeil had been flung over to to help him up. "My lord, perhaps we should reconsider our options. He is... immensely powerful." he stated but got no response as Ethraeil simply grunted in anger and rushed forward again with a yell. By this point Selethar, Baldathar and Auriel had made their way to the fight and all began their attack on the Demon King while their respective armies clashed around them in a pitched battle. Yet none of their fighting seemed to even hurt Taranoch in any way as he brushed them off with little effort and laughed in a mocking manner towards them before delivering his own counterattacks which landed squarely on Ethraeil and his lieutenants. As undead none of them felt pain, but the damage they took was nonetheless noticeable as bones broke or were outright pulverized and their combat effectiveness dropped.

The latest blow helped clear Ethraeil's mind from the fog of anger that had suffocated his judgement as he realized they couldn't just blindly charge in against such a being. Getting up quickly, he formed a coordinated attack with his lieutenants and, after getting atop Auriel to get aloft, began their renewed assault. Selethar and Velkor struck with dark magics while Baldathar and Malric distracted Taranoch from the ground as Auriel soared upwards with Ethraeil on her back. The undead dragon breathed an unnatural flame to strike, to which Taranoch easily blocked with one hand but was distracted from the true attack. Ethraeil jumped off as soon as the flames were let loose and plummeted straight towards his enemy with his sword in front of him. Diving fast he managed to get in close and with a roar he swung his blade. Unlike the other times, this one connected as the audible sound of blade slicing through flesh was heard and a single scratch was delivered to Taranoch's face as Ethraeil landed below without grace and with a massive thud.

He quickly returned to his feet and laughed: "So, you can bleed after all." he remarked aloud in a mocking manner as he lifted his blade, wet with just a bit of demonic blood atop its edges.

 

[Infab]

Taranoch grunted, his inferno-like trio of eyes narrowing. "All of that...for a single drop of blood?" he whispered. "Someone like you could never truly kill me, Ethraeil. Not even the gods themselves at their full combined might could have killed me. Wound me, perhaps, but not kill." He gazed back down at Ethraeil, then looked to his lieutenants. "Now, it is time for this to end...and for you to cease annoying me."

 

[joshuadim]

It seemed as though Taranoch hadn't been taking this seriously up until now, given his sudden ferocity in counterattacking now as he fully let loose his power upon those beneath him. A swift swipe with one hand quickly knocked Selethar and Ethraeil straight into the side of a nearby rock face at full force while Baldathar was punched straight into the ground and nearly pulverizing the undead being had it not been for a last ditch magical spell softening a small portion of the blow. Auriel in the meantime was grabbed by her tail and flung far away into the distance, leaving the dragon roaring as she soared off out of control to another place in the Abyss.

Ethraeil barely had time to stand before he witnessed another fist heading straight for him, aiming to kill him. But a sudden roar from nearby signified Malric's cry of desperation as he flung himself towards Ethraeil and slammed him out of the way. In an instant, the death knight was crushed and grounded to dust as his death rattle echoed around the battlefield. Selethar quickly went to Ethraeil's side and tried to help his liege up while Velkor, with renewed rage, launched a barrage of undead magic at the Demon King but to no avail. And worse still, Taranoch quickly took notice as he grabbed the lich into one hand and squeezed. At first Velkor struggled but then roared until finally he exploded in a flash of souls as his entire form was crunched and destroyed by sheer force.

Soon after, Selethar and Ethraeil were separated once again by the nearby stomp of Taranoch's feet which blasted the Lich King's most trusted lieutenant far our of the way and left Ethraeil alone face to face with his nemesis. Such a moment was short lived however as Taranoch lifted a leg back and swung it straight at Ethraeil with momentum similar to that of a massive ship. He barely had time to react by bringing his sword in front of him as the blow connected, shattering his blade and sending Ethraeil himself soaring through the Abyssal sky. Rather quickly, the figures of all the undead and demons fighting below became specks and Taranoch grew ever smaller as he flew further and further away until finally the warfront was completely vanished from sight. And he continued to fly for some time as he remained limp from such an assault and was practically defenseless.

Soon enough however, his arch turned into a descent as he fell from the skies and towards someplace else within this accursed plane of existence and Ethraeil could only close his eyes and ponder on his failure and his family before hitting the ground like a meteor.

 

[Infab]

Taranoch grunted again, as he straightened up and watched Ethraeil sail off into the distance. And soon, Mazgith reappeared once more upon his shoulder. "Most excellent, my lord. You have dealt with the nuisance quite quickly." she said, looking up to the head of her dark lord. Taranoch didn't respond at first, reaching up and touching where Ethrail had scratched him. "...I've grown complacent. Lazy. Before, he wouldn't have come close to scratching me..." he muttered, before gazing back down beneath him at the still ongoing battle.

"...I shall finish up here. Afterwards, I wish to visit the other territories and inspect the damage...Return to the palace, and make sure things are secure there. Then, return to me. My Icon of Wrath can sit there and wait for me as part of his punishment." stated Taranoch finally, his head turning slightly in Mazgith's direction. She bowed deeply, and let out a simple "Yes, my lord." before once again vanishing.

Elsewhere, deep in the Southern Wastes, Ethraeil laid perfectly still. As silent as the white sandy environment around him. Yet he wasn't alone. A portal was open nearby, and a female demon stood next to him, gazing down at him with piercing golden eyes. "Tariun knew you'd fail. Well, time to move you. You're far more valuable to us alive than as some Abyssal creature's dinner." she stated in almost a monotone voice. She then motioned a hand over Ethraeil, and he slowly began to lift off the ground. And soon, he began to float quietly behind the demon...and eventually through the portal with them.

 

[Infab]

---------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER THREE

---------------------------------------------------------------------

​

The Train
Moving into the Heartlands
The Abyss


It had been a day since the group reboarded the train leading out of the Land of Dead Kings, having road through the northern portion of Keggoth's domain before turning east and heading into the western half of the Heartlands. The Heartlands were surprisingly well taken care of. Grasslands and trees as far as the eye could see. There were settlements here, brimming with activity. Demons, mortals, a variety of creatures and beings dotted the landscape. It was a little surprising to see, really.

The group themselves, at least those that weren't looking out the window, were tending to themselves. Putting food in their bellies, getting baths to wash away the dirt and blood, and simply trying to rest before they reached Dis. The heart of Taranoch's Abyss. They would need to be quick. Get inside, get the artifacts, and leave. Otherwise, turn into a demon and remain here for eternity...or perish to any demons that may engage them inside the palace.

Vincent sat quiet in his cabin, gazing down at the sword in his hand. The wretched thing he was forced to use in order to survive this mess. He had yet to meet his shadow copy...but he knew he would face him soon enough. Just a matter of time, really. Valeria, on the other hand, found herself quietly enjoying the comfort of a hot bath. It had been literally thirty Abyssal years since she had a decent one...one that didn't consist of a bucket with cold water and soap. She also had fresh clothes, brought to her by Kat. A succubus she was warry of, but...whom was actually nice like that tall thin one they had left behind in the Land of Dead kings. And like that demon travelling with them. Leakhana. She was alright.

Eventually, she got out and dried off, before dressing herself and heading to where Jakob was. She hoped the Abyss hadn't dragged him down...She missed his optimism and spirit. She'd visit Cassandra and Mariette afterwards. She had to ask them as to how they ended up together, after being such bitter enemies while in the Mortal Realm.

 

[K0mori]

"Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur
L'amour vainqueur et la vie opportune
Ils n'ont pas l'air de croire à leur bonheur..."

As the train rumbled along on its long journey to their final destination, Mariette found herself deeply lost in thought, trying to decide whether she could somehow justify a return to life as a cursed soul, feeding off the lifeblood and generosity of others, or if she would rather stay and discover a new existence as an infernal sort of thing, fully consumed by her dark desires, yet safely locked away. There was a chance she could remain noble in her new form, but, having finally gotten over the intoxication that her brief mutation had brought along, she doubted it. She had been a blood-crazed monster in her battle with Kellea, nothing more.

She and Cassandra were both seated in the dining car, as Mariette had taken her blood to a secluded seat near a window to excuse herself of the bar's company. Annoyingly, she knew that she couldn't be quite alone, even if Cass were to leave her, as the voice inside her head- the voice of her so-called "humble servant," continued to offer its input on many things. Mariette found herself comforted by its presence as it spoke, but soon resented it, as it was easily toying with her mind. She'd remove the armor if she could, but it wasn't possible as far as she could tell. It was attached to her fully, like a second skin.

And so, she sat miserably in the seat, looking out at the scenery that seemed almost civilized, muttering a poem she had enjoyed in life and sipping on her wine-tinged blood. The demons had procured her own estate's vintages, just like every other imaginable spirit or wine they kept behind the bar. She felt so close to home, and yet so far away.

 

[Infab]

Cassandra found herself watching as she sat immediately across from her at their secluded seat, her eyes moving between Mariette's face and the small 'face' that sat at Mariette's collar. The face adorning the armor that Mariette had donned, which had driven her into a blood-lusting state and had turned her arm temporarily into a sort of needle to drink Kellea's blood. It was messing with her mind, enticing her to do things that would benefit it. And Cassandra didn't know what to do about it.

She glanced out the window, searching for something to talk about. But her mind kept returning to that damned armor. Eventually, she spoke. "...So what has it said to you since we fought Miss Not-So-Perfect?" she finally asked, looking to Mariette's face. She was worried. Very worried. Worried that Mariette would still choose to remain down here. Worried that they armor would force her to make that choice...if they couldn't figure out a way to get it off of her later.

-----
​

Why do my joints ache? Its like they're on fire, burning deep inside the tendons and bone. And its spreading. Riberta flexed her arms, wrists, and fingers, making sure each moved as they were supposed to. The trident...Adriel's trident...it had done something to her. Something she wasn't properly healing from. Something had changed, and it wasn't good.

She muttered under her breath, glancing to the trident in the corner. Maybe this was her body's way of telling her to stop using it. It was a weapon never meant to be used by anyone other than Adriel. How that demon was able to use it...she didn't understand. The force of the blast...the raw energy surging through it. Just how powerful had Adriel been? She killed Trig, that behemoth of a demon...with that thing.

That's too much power. Too much for her. And after they were through down here, she wanted to never see the weapon again for as long as she lived. At least, that's what her bones and muscles wanted.

 

[Breadman]

In the lands of Wrath

Constantine hurried back to the graveyard on his steed. The news had reached even the almost isolated nearby town in the wastes. The demon king had left his castle to deal with the lich personally. This was what Lozon was waiting for. If they joined the demon host in time, then the old man can finally climb out of obscurity. The gambler spurred the undead animal to pick up speed, kicking up dust behind them. Soon enough, he entered the woods that surround their resting place. The winding paths leading him straight to the heart. As soon as he reached the gates, he dismounted so the rusted doors would let him in.

"Where is he?" Constantine asked the shades tending to the nearby graves. One of them pointed him in the right direction. "Thank you kindly." He tipped his hat in gratitude to the damned soul and took off with a brisk pace. Passing a few crypts until he saw Lozon. The old demon had his back turned to him with his arms crossed. He was talking to Tiloc, much to Constantine's annoyance. He left for the town specifically to get away from her, but looks like he would have to tolerate her if he would give Lozon the news. "Pop!" He raised his voice to get his attention. "Taranoch, he.."

"Has already won." The demon cut him off as he turned to face him. "I know." He sounded disappointed "I was hoping that the undead would put up more of a fight, but alas. They crumbled beneath his might." He shook his head

"Wh-what? Already?"

"Word is already spreading." Tiloc added. A subtle smirk formed on her face as Lozon had his back turned "It was obvious it would happen as soon as we heard the call." She tilted her head once she noticed Constantine's confusion "Did you think we wouldn't hear it?"

"Well I..."

"Oh vulture." She picked that name to call him, much to the gambler's annoyance. Tiloc rested her hands on her hips and looked to him like a child that had just blurted out something inappropriate "We may be fairly isolated, but we're no outside his reach."

"In any case." Lozon spoke again "My hesitation cost us our chance."

"Please." Tiloc scoffed "I told you ten times already. They don't care about you and never will."

"The war against the undead is finished, but there are more conflicts on the horizon." He seemingly ignored her to talk to Constantine "This rebellion is likely going to shake things up. I hope you've decided on whom you'd want to support in this revolt."

"Excuse me?"

"Your brothers and sisters have already drawn their lines." The demon pointed to one gathering of wraiths. A quick count put them between twenty to thirty "Those are the ones loyal to Taranoch...and the ones I was going to ride with. So much for that" He spat out. "The rest left either to search for the resistance or to avoid the conflict entirely."

"Guess you're staying too, then?" Constantine turned to Tiloc

"Oh no. I'm leaving as well." She smiled, revealing the jagged teeth underneath "I was hoping to dissuade you 'father' from his delusion, but I grow tired of it." she took a few steps past the two as she spoke "I'm going to go with the little bird, that alchemist that brewed me the wine. She's been around the Abyss and can help me catch up while I help her soul find some peace." She stopped to look at the gambler in the eyes "I hope you don't mind. I got the impression she quite liked your company even if your time was short."

"What are you..."

"As friends, vulture." Tiloc laughed as he couldn't resist her teasing "Her heart belongs to another and I know the same is true for you. Lozon wouldn't have been able to change you otherwise."

"Alright then. Very funny." He grumbled before changing his tone "I'm coming with you." Tiloc cocked an eyebrow "I want to get back to the whole payback thing. Forget the politics. Besides she likes my company and I like hers and I want to see what my 'big sister' can do now that she's done with her nap."

"Heh, looks like you made your decision then." The old demon spoke again, his mood seemed to have slightly improved "There are many shades in the Abyss and many of their tormentors that have evaded their own punishment." He was silent for a few seconds as he pondered on his own words "Maybe there is something I lost along the way. Lost sight of my role in all of this."

"Could it be that you're finally speaking some sense?" Tiloc exclaimed

"You are spirits of vengeance after all." The demon continued "Maybe that's the key." After another short pause he turned his head to the wraiths that had gathered "I see clearly now. Go. Take the alchemist with you and seek out more like her."

The two wraiths nodded and walked together down the path from where Constantine came. Finding Colette wasn't difficult. She had gathered ingredients from the garden and restocked on supplies. All that was left was to wait. When the two found her, she had taken a break to smoke a cigarette.

"Oh Constantine!" She seemed happy to see him "I assume mademoiselle Tiloc told you that we are going to travel together?"

"Change of plans, little bird." Tiloc tilted her head slightly to the gambler "Your friend has decided to join our journey."

"Really?" Colette was pleasantly surprised by this. The Abyss was a hard place to travel in alone, but having just one other capable person with her would make things easier. Having two would almost make it seem like back in the land of the living. "Your company will be welcome."

"I'm sure it will." the wraith prepared to summon his horse "Old man wants us to get back to working with you shades so we can get back to the old way of things. Figured you'd be a good start." Not exactly true, but Tiloc didn't seem interested in disputing it either.

Colette in turn couldn't help but wonder why exactly he decided to join them. She knew why she chose to go with Tiloc. Someone that powerful could help her when the inevitable descend of her killer would come, but what was Constantine's game here? She shrugged it off for now. She wondered about something else. How were those other two doing? How were Edward and Jacob fairing in their own journey?

---
Henderson awoke from his nap. The long journey had made things rather dull. Maybe the peace and quiet was suitable for some of the others, but to him it was mind numbingly boring. He could have sworn that his mind was trying to escape his skull. Touching his forehead, revealed something else entirely. Grabbing a mirror, the mutant found out that the process was going along nicely. Two horns had started to form and make their way through the skin. His teeth had also changed. Becoming more jagged and sharper. Moving his tongue around, he could feel something resembling a second row forming.

Feeling quite satisfied with how things were proceeding, he made his way to the train's bar. Humming something to himself along the way.

 

[Dmaster]

At the bar Hudson was seated one one of the stools with a few empty shot glasses in front of him, having his fair share of various whiskeys yet not all that out of it from gulping them down just yet. To his right was the angelic longsword he had procured from the tomb, leaned up against the bar rather casually. Considering how he would sink into the bottle now and then he had least gained a tolerance for alcohol from it, meaning that he wasn't quite drinking himself into a stupor at the moment. While he was now trusting enough of the train staff to get drinks from them he wasn't so intent on dulling all of his senses in case of an emergency.

As Henderson stepped toward the bar he leered at the man quite openly, his helmet off for once so that he could properly relax. Despite the look he gave the mutant he said nothing, merely returning to staring at the tabletop without a word. He felt no need to state his obvious resentment toward the demonic corruption so obviously rooting itself in the group, and he frankly was aware that his choice in a previously-angelic weapon may not completely absolve him from that fate regardless. Those ancient bones had a lasting effect on them, especially since they chose to linger for the fight with Kallea. They were all on borrowed time and he hated it.