Fantasy That Time the Demon Lord Killed our Party Leader: Ic

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

There were four of them. Four ravenous beasts, round-backed, grey-fleshed creatures with elongated heads and snouts, hides with tufts of slate, spiny fur. They attacked in a mad dash, little more than blurs of snapping jaws and scraping talons. Tiberius grunted. He backstepped through the snow, plowing it aside with his fleet footwork. One of them howled as it twisted through the air to deliver a wide-slash.

Only for its talons to meet Tiberius' shield. Screaming as they glide across metal. However, another of the four attacked from Tiberius' right side! The black talons swipe towards the gladiator, who brings his fist up, the honed eyes glance in its direction. A writhing mass of darkness lanced from his hand, slamming the creature back into the snow. Swinging the spatha overhead, the blade's edge bites into the forehead of the beast held back by his shield. Stinking beast blood, coppery and bitter, streak down the fined edge, but it was not dead. He brought back his shield then bashed the beast away, dazed from the new, leaky crevice in its cranium.

The glassy-eyed horrors charged him again, instead of retreating, Tiberius hid beneath his shield and answered their charge with his own. Three bodies slammed into each other, a thud of flesh against steel, the gladiator managing to sheath his spatha between one beast's ribs, through the deflated lungs, into its now-silenced heart. There was no time for recovery — the beast's claws passed inches from Tiberius' exposed head, clipping into his back! He was inside the beast's guard, but he can't pull away, nor can he yank his spatha from the carcass next to him.

For a moment, Tiberius and the beast were face to face, heads nearly fused together. Its maw bit and clacked as it tried to deface him. The breath was even more putrid up close. The gladiator released his grip on the spatha's hilt. Dragging his right side back, the gladiator balled his fist, then punched the beast's snout over and over, the white-knuckled fist crunched against the grey, maligned mouth. His breathing rasped in the chilled air, as he struggled in this pseudo-grapple between man and beast.

Shards of its sharpened teeth were sent flying, through the snow and down its own gullet. Tiberius could feel his own anger rising. It was something that he was aware of, but could do little to stop. The fury was dug up from the cold, dark depths by the heat and speed of battle. Despite Qin's grip on his mind.

He punched through, shoving his fist deep in the beast's throat. Feeling its tongue squirm beneath his forearm. He grit his own teeth, lips parting partially, not a grin or grimace, but sheer fury. The arm trembled, shuddered as it coalesced darkness. The inky ooze spilled backwards, dripping down in thickened rivulets to the ivory ground. The creature's neck ballooned, its spine bulging against red muscle, grey skin tearing at the seams. Then it exploded, splattering Tiberius, from face to chest, with blood. The body slumped lifelessly to the ground. The creature's head dangled off his arm. He flung the grisly remains at the beast with the cleavage in its head, with a wet thump of flesh striking flesh. An aftershock of blood whipped the creature, leaving a red spray which mixed with its own blood. He tried to run for his spatha, to drag it free from its corpse, but there was no time. The fourth beast, the one he forced into the ground with darkness, was upon him.

Until a gauntlet snatched its head and hind-leg. It was Polux, the dark-armoured giant of the void's blackest pits. He lifted the beast above his crown. Squirming, wailing protestations in his grip. The sound of bone crunching beneath skin could be heard. Then the giant drove the creature against his studded knee, shattering its spine perfectly in half, bone splinters shooting out of its sides.

Polux moved past the gladiator then looked down on the beast with the exposed brain-matter. Its limbs were drumming the ground, mouth clenching and unclenching. Body twitching from the ruined brain's ceaseless kill-imperatives. The sounds of it crushing, shoving snow were the only thing audible, apart from the distant sounds of battle. A final stomp from Polux' sabatons ended the misery. Tiberius breathed freely. Allowing his muscles to briefly extinguish the fire in them. He was in the centre of bodies, dead, mangled on the ground or slumped against Rohen's terrestrial encampments.

A fair distance away, he heard Parzival sputtering frivolous nonsense at them. Actually, he assumes that it's nonsense, he was too far away to cleanly make out the words. But then his eyes widened. The man's helm had been shattered, his allies were closing in on him, what had changed?

Did they truly recover enough to give one of the Hands difficulties? He reached over with his off-hand. The fingers pressed against the leather-attire, pooling blood beneath the pads, sending jolts of pain but he remained steady. He felt four claw marks, they were shallow, mercifully. A few inches more and his shoulder blade muscles would've been torn to thin, spindly ribbons.

His head tilted up, chin jutting out through the bloodied cloth-cover. Polux silently paced through the snow and was now before him, staring down like weeks ago, only now there wasn't the hint of admonishment. Tiberius nodded his head and extended a fist to the giant. The giant replied with a gentle bump of his gauntlet against his friend's hand. He need not bandy words with the giant, not here and not now, to express his appreciation.

Another fact dawned on him: If these tides are turning then he need not use the trick as trivial as it seemed now; the calm, peace of oblivion that he so desired returned to him as well. Overhead, Enthy and Aaxir battled Hargred in their draconic forms. Scales and feathers and flame majestically merging to manifest a collage of battling colours. He watched as Huang, Chrome, Eleanor, Rohen set upon the unmasked Parzival. Kaida's spirit warrior, Ryushi if Tiberius recalled correctly, was also amidst the fray, apparently getting much needed vengeance for the beating that Parzival handed them back at the prison.

They have no need of his assistance with Parzival, but Hargred is not trivial, even with two dragons at his heckles.

Polux, remain by my side, when we seen an opening, we aim for his neck. Gesturing towards the flying Hargred.

The giant nodded. Tiberius paced to the spatha stuck in its carcass moorings, tearing it free. Polux reacted in kind, raising his hand and flexing the metal digits. The space between his palms darkened then took shape as a two-handed mace with a wickedly spiked macehead.

Until then, they set to work on the horde that still approached endlessly.
Interactions: N/A
Mentions: Beann (Kaida, Ryushi), Nessi (Eleanor, Parzival, Hargred), CasualTea (Rohen) & Others

 

[OldTurtle]

Fel Petri

Interactions: Everyone fighting Parsley

Mentions:

Fel sighed, rubbing at his jaw as the heroes and Parzival clashed again. Blasting away a stray nightmare beast with a cone of fire, he mulled over the old vampire's monologue. Truly, he gave it extraordinarily great thought, lavishing the words with exceeding deliberation. He reflected and ruminated, considered and contemplated with the utmost sincerity. In other words, he thought for two seconds and came to the swift conclusion that Parzival was entirely mad.

How lovely.

Glaring faults in logic aside, the Hand posed no less significant a threat. His questionable state of mind certainly didn't dull his skill, as evidenced by how capably he wielded his flaming blade against the heroes. Far above, lightning split the sky and thunder crashed. The heavy odors of metallic blood and sharp ozone mixed unpleasantly in the air. Fel's lip curled in distaste and he drew his cloak closer over his mouth. Time was running out. The longer they tarried, the lower their chances of escape plummeted. There was no assurance reinforcements from Tiryan's army weren't incoming, and more beasts would be bad enough -- but even one more Hand would spell disaster for them all.

Then move more quickly. You've slowed, Fel.

The mage scowled, grinding the butt of his staff in the snow. Another large beast, gray and vaguely wolven pounced with a vicious snarl. Fel twisted in place, cracking it across the maw with the shaft of his staff. Its wooden surface came away red with blood, the sharp crystals embedded in its surface having torn a shallow, jagged path along the foul creature's throat. Not a fatal wound.

Hardly my fault. I've spent years carefully refining my mana circuits. It takes months to carefully repair the sort of damage they've underwent -- not just a few weeks.

The nightmare beast recovered quickly, its rough fur bristling as it dripped crimson blood onto the dirtied snow below. Did these abominations even feel pain? It charged him again, all sharp claws and snapping jaws. Fel ducked low and slammed his staff into its belly, letting its momentum carry it up and past him. He turned as the beast landed in the snow beyond him, slamming a foot into the back of its neck to drive it down into the earth.

That is no excuse for your performance lately. You waste precious time like this; even if you must stop to think, you should always keep in motion, plan your next steps in advance. This is far from an impossible task for you, even with diminished capabilities.

Fel brought his staff to bear, the bloodied crystals coming to life once more. He pressed the end against the base of the struggling creature's skull and released the gathering energy, instantly flash-cooking its cranium. Skin bubbled and hissed where the staff touched it and the radiating heat melted the snow into a pool of steaming water. Thin, clear fluids dripped from the dying beast's orifices and joined the growing puddle below. Its powerful limbs twitched once, then twice before they flopped uselessly to the ground and Fel stepped away from the charred corpse, angrily scrubbing the toes of his boots against the tightly-packed snow underfoot. The comforting stench of cooking meat hung heavy in the air.

Enough with the criticism already. I'm a little too distracted to be paying attention to your lectures right now. If you want to bother me with more inane comments, do it when we're not fighting for our lives.

Ayao remained silent, but Fel could sense her stewing dissatisfaction and knew he'd have to contend with her anger later. If he survived until later, that was. With some breathing room earned, he returned to casting incantations, summoning forth one long, twisting spear of flame at a time. At the same time, he worked together a different sort of magic, gathering a bundle of twisting threads of wind cupped in his palm. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Fel spoke quickly. His tongue felt numb, as if speaking half a dozen words simultaneously through a mouthful of cotton -- though currently that might have been easier to do. Grunting from the effort, Fel continued to mouth words, letting each stream of wind take on a different shape in his grasp. When he finished, he released them with a heavy breath, guiding the tightly formed streams across the clearing toward his companions.

Like slender, invisible serpents, the magic curled around their shoulders and whispered his voice into their ears: a warning instructing each of the fighters of where his next bombardment would arrive. A useful -- albeit frequently unreliable -- method of transmitting messages over short distances with wind magic, he found it remarkably useful for furtive communications. Fel's array of fiery missiles followed shortly after, each directed on an independently charted trajectory intended to pin Parzival between them.

 

[DSLIX]

Chrome Van Der Linde

Mentions: Nessi OldTurtle @Everybody else jumping bro

Chrome smirked as he clashed with Parzival simply saying "Really was it that easy to tell? Well that's fine cause they probably don't know still and you won't live long enough to say anything else." Chrome quickly spread his wings and retreated to the air above to dodge Fel's fireball. Chrome hits a barrel roll mid-air out of habit to dodge any projectiles and dives back down crashing into a random nightmare beast and crushing it's head instantly as Chrome lands on it. He stared with a sadistic expression seeing Parzival's scarred face but it soon became blank as he started to talk spitting out nonsense in Chrome's mind as Parzival was no more than a deadman in his eyes. Parzival spoke about wars, past sins, and all types of other shit Chrome could care less about saying casually "Fighting for a peace you'll never see? That's a sad cause to die behind" Chrome stared at Parzival with an unmoved expression but even noticing the bundle of nightmare beasts about to dogpile him. Having a good dozen beasts suddenly drop on him Chrome vision is covered in a veil of darkness and a uncomfortable poking sensation at his skin as the nightmare beasts try to break his skin, and Chrome can't help but chuckle seeing their useless efforts as he pulls one of the beasts throats out with his bare hands. He then pulls one of his back and rips it in half before using the splattering and leaking blood to form into spears and pierce all the nightmare beasts around him before draining their blood simultaneously. The blood pools around Chrome forming a thick puddle of blood covering his feet and a good 10 feet around him, but then the blood starts to pool around his body forming a nice thick cover of blood over his body that starts to slowly change and harden. The blood latching on to his body then clotting together to create scabs that merge together forming into a dark concrete-hard armor over his body having pulsating red color glow ominously between the slim cracks to help vent air through his armor, further flexing his control by morphing his armored hands into sharp claws.




Chrome casually walked towards Parzival and his rather fiery companions looking to end him. He claws through the nightmare fiends with ease as he simply cuts them to pieces with his claws without breaking his walking pace. Hanuman speaks to Chrome in the back of his mind "His eyes are no use to him but would make a fine trophy don't you think?" For the first time in awhile Chrome was actually agreeing with Hanuman and a malicious gaze was set upon Parzival. Chrome slices open a dead fiend morphing it's blood within a matter of seconds a small boulder formed from hard scab is sent flying straight through a horde of beasts clearing his allies surroundings and way to Parzival. His bloodlust causing him to slowly move to a flanking position on Parzival planning to pincer him with Fel's next attack and carve Parzival's eyes out his head. Chrome uses a single bladed finger to slice clean through a tree before turning his hands back to normal and using another large tree as a giant mace his grip cemented in the tree as he swings it with ease painting everything around him in splotches and splatters of red his surroundings creating an area of complete control due to the pools of blood surrounding Chrome most fiends having their life robbed of them if getting caught too close to a puddle of puddle ready to snatch and trap them until their an empty husk making the puddle slowly form into a small pool. A waist-high stack of bodies sit all around Chrome as he simply walks through the middle of a small clearing stepping ankle deep in blood as the pool spreads out and maintains itself within 10 feet of Chrome slowly growing the more lives it takes. Chrome smirks under his dark scab armor saying "I think I'll show you a Bloody Hell of a time." His tone hard yet ecstatic as his bloodlust makes him feel a sadisitic pleasure wash over him as his domain grows steadily.

 

[Dawnsx]

Nelumba

”Fool,” Shiva spat within Nel’s mind.

“Huh? Who, me?” Nel asked aloud with a tilt of her head as she launched another wave of water blades.

”The fact that you’re a fool goes without saying,” Shiva deadpanned. Nel pouted. She could practically imagine Shiva doing that thing where he lifted his head and stared down at her! It was like he wanted Nel to admire his nostrils! ”I’m talking about the vampire.”

“Parzival?”

”No, you little idiot! The other vampire!”

“Chromie? That’s not nice!” Nel protested. “Look at the cool armor he made! …Oh. Wuh-oh!”

Shiva went silent, satisfied that his hero wasn’t entirely brainless, though Nel’s next words made him release a sigh that reverberated in her brain.

“Okie dokie! Time to fight fire with fire! You know how I like to do this, Shiva!” Nel said. Her arms shot into the air, and she loudly announced, ”Someone cover me so I’m not the one getting turned into crispy bacon! And now, it's time fooooor…” She dragged out the syllable as she lowered her arms on either side of her, and in one sharp movement, snapped one arm across her chest and placed the other hand on her hip. “Divine Synchronization!”

”I don’t understand why you insist on doing this every single time,” Shiva growled, even as light enveloped Nel’s body.

Her silhouette fluttered in a small circle as her limbs moved smoothly and sharply in the well-practiced choreography of Shiva’s tandava. Rings of fire formed around her body; one pair of rings traveled upwards until they engulfed her arms, while another spiraled downwards and enveloped her legs. With a twirl of her body, the fire shot out, leaving her fellow heroes unharmed but searing the beasts in her vicinity. Left in the wake of the flames were puffy pink sleeves with an excess of frills and ribbons, and a pair of similarly adorned pink high heels and blue leggings.

“Bling!”

The light around her body flickered away with the syllable, leaving behind a thigh-length dress and her hair in voluminous pigtails. Another ball of light formed in the air before popping like a bubble and dropping Shiva’s famed Trishula in her awaiting hands.

Her and Shiva’s Divine Synchronization completed, the flames around her burned ever hotter. With her wings still keeping her inches off the ground, her dance of destruction in the air was made all the more ethereal.

Using the Trishula to focus her mana into her next attack, she pointed the trident at Parzival and launched her rings of fire, crying out, ”I’m the fireboy now!”

 

[LazyDaze]

AAXIR THE RED

Interactions: Nano
Mentions:

"Enthy! What's wrong!?"Aaxir repeated when she had not responded to his earlier questions; however, his concern for his fellow dragon left him distracted enough to barely register the magic circled that had formed beneath him. A million curses shot through his mind while time seemingly froze around him.

"What kind of world do you wish to create?"


​

Why of all times, was that going through his mind? Was this the fabled flashing of life before your eyes? Hardly, Aaxir had long since decided he wouldn't die here...he couldn't. "Pe-

Before he could call out to the volcanic goddess, Enthy's quick wit and reaction saved them both from the mighty spear of the heavens that threatened to destroy them completely. The beating of her wings propelled him just out of the range of the storm dragon's attack but it came at a cost. Enthy sustained significant damage. In a strange sense, one could consider themselves lucky for surviving such a blunder. To think he would be the one needing rescue. Pathetic, he recalled the words he said to another...but right now he was beyond useless by his standards. Even Enthy was injured because of him. He watched her carefully. The erratic flying, her quiet internal struggle and uneasiness. Aaxir reached out as she turned towards Hargred, generating green flames that kindled gently around Enthy's injuries to perform the minor miracle of healing. It wasn't something that Aaxir loved to do often, not that he could, as it usually meant he was losing the battle.

"Earlier......you were going to call out my name weren't you Aaxir the Red? They say you think of the things dearest to you in near death situations."

"...I was about to sneeze. It's cold....pe-achoo," Aaxir said flatly

".....I must say that is a very odd and adorable way to sneeze Aaxy. Just admit that you neeeeeeddeeed me," Pele said while giving Aaxir a knowing look that sent shivers down his spine.

"Yeah definitely a cold....I think I'm allergic to bullshit."

“If Lady Pelé asked of you to do something that contradicted your wishes, what would you do?”

Enthy's words cut through the potential back and forth between Aaxir and Lady Pele. Before he could respond she took off almost as if she charged toward Hargred in order to flee. He could almost feel Pele's eyes burning into his skull, anticipating an answer in Enthy's stead. For a moment Aaxir paused. This was not due to any conflicting thoughts on the matter but because he suddenly remembered who he was before he was defeated.

"What kind of world do you wish to create?"

That is what Pele asked him when they first met. He was chosen because he had his own dreams...ambitions. If the gods wanted a puppet He had promised to show her and he had yet to make any headway in that regard. He chuckled while he watched Enthy face off against that monster despite her current handicap. "Honestly...I'd probably tell her to shove it," Aaxir said with a laugh before bursting toward Enthy and Hargred.

"SH-SHOVE IT? SHOVE IT?! SHOVE IT WHERE AND WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THE IT?! YOU INGRATE! YOU FOOL! YOU ROCK HEADED SERPEANT BRAINED OAF-"

"Pele, I lied about the sneeze, I actually needed you."

"..YOU...BLOODSTAINED TOADSTO.......Oh.........really? You needed me after all? Of course, Aaxir! You're my champion! I would never leave your side.....under most circumstances!"

"Good to know," Aaxir said with a smile. Of course he was smiling. He had crossed blades many times with someone leagues more terrifying than Hargred. Compared to the storm that was Arlux, this tempest was little more than an autumn breeze, or at least that's what he told himself. He zipped through the storm, batting away stray monsters and dodging dangerous bolts of electricity on the way. Even now Aaxir watched Enthy's movements closely, her attacks were clearly not meant to harm a monster like Hargred, so what was she trying to do? Aaxir would follow Enthy's lead and release consecutive heat slashes from his blade nowhere as powerful as his first charged blast in order to create an opening for a more powerful attack...or to finally understand what was plaguing the mind of his comrade. In any case, he would be ready to cover for her no matter what.

"You can only be sure of a future you craft with your own hands. If you want peace so badly then create it yourself."

 

[Fluff]

Kannaka

Fall, everything, fall, everything, fall...

It felt as though the world was on fire.

Even though Kannaka had zipped through the thin mountain air, soaring high above cloud cover to salvage whatever vestiges of warmth she could from the rays of the sun; it was bitterly cold, and the girl felt herself shiver as her heart and lungs worked overtime, beating sharply, quickly to keep the blood pumping. What use was a Sun God I'm not a Sun God if he couldn't keep her warm? The Kinnari had little mana, and much of it had been spent in the first half of her swift-winged journey - more fool she, it was growing colder by the minute, she should have really saved it for later--

And then the world was on fire.

The archer had dark wings, a stark contrast against the pillowy white clouds of the Olrodian mountainranges, but despite her incongrigruous appearance, no one had eyes for her. Still partially within the cloud cover, and feeling the freezing mist settle on her body, she watched as the ground below was turned to a hellscape.

"What do you see?"

She saw... everything. Her eyes shimmered in the golden midday sun, the sunbeams gently filtering through downwards to the scene of rage and war that unfolded several miles below her.

The first to catch her eye was Fel... Fel Petri, the resident fire conjurer and a far smarter man than he let on. They did not often get along actually they never got along but the elf's skill and knowledge was undeniable, and clearly so was his power. Kannaka really could see everything. Even without her divine sight, it wasn't hard to pick him out in the midst of the sea of fire. She could carefully trace her eyes across the mage as he lit the masses ablaze, sending pillars of smoke and the stench of burning flesh upwards. She could see... the muscles in his hand tense as he clutched his staff harder, could see the licking flames reflect off his thin golden rimmed glasses, could see the sweat running down his jaw as he chanted into his hand and released something into the air, little flickers of air that were almost invisible to her eagle eyes. Almost.

Next to him stood Nani Yī Nuò, resplendent in her Divine Tiger form, blending in nigh perfectly in the surrounding snow, if it hadn't all been melted away. She could see... her gaze flitted across the tiger's singular eye, taking in how each individual strand of fur rippled in the wind, and underneath her muscles rolled with power. The tigers' silvery stripes glinted in the scant sunlight, and she couldn't help but pause to admire the scene - a war orchestraed by the grandmother, with her valiantly at the centre. She could see the big cat's eyes widen and contract accordingly as she swung her head around, taking inventory of every hero in the vicinity.



"Kannaka,"

There was Khatiy, hissing and bristling nearby, and Kannaka took a second longer to linger on her, carefully sweeping over her to ensure she wasn't hurt. She knew her summoning stones had temporarily been rendered ineffective, and the Sultan had been moping ever since, in a temper far worse than usual. Even now, all the fury and indignation was visible in her fur and hair, standing on end as her tail lashed about. She had known little of peace in their weeks of rest, and it did not seem like the poor empress would catch a break anytime soon. The raven's eyes narrowed as she cursorily swept her gaze over the surroundings, watching the voidbeasts approach the small central circle, and the grip on her bow tightened.

Nearby, Tiberius, the gallant gladiator, worked overtime with his large craggy accomplice to keep the group close together. She could see the little wisps of darkness curling around his feet as his weapon and shield flashed from under his cloth cloak, could see the tension in his shoulders as he fought off the hoard, and yet mellow away as he glanced skyward. And yet, something about the man seemed off, seemed lopsided - far be it from a predator to ever miss the visage of a wounded creature, and the girl's eyes found the arm held stiffly by his side, releasing rivulets of blood that slowly quelled to mere drops.

But if the conversation was turned to blood, then- er, what was Chrome doing? Kannaka watched in stunned horror as the royal vampire cloaked himself in a clotted armour of viscera and fluids, and wading knee-deep into the waves of beasts approaching. As vile as his decision seemed, it clearly lent to his favour from what she could see of his performance - and she could see all of it. The thin streams of steaming breath escaping from the vents on the armour, the slight sizzle of heat that he created disappearing into the midday mists, the ichor dripping down his claws that froze into crystalline little shards.

"Kannaka,"

On the other end of the battle raged a scene all too familiar - a large group of antagonizers had set upon one offender - except this time, the antagonizers were her party members, her allies, and the offender was none other than the infuriating little worm of a creature, who had shown up to prevent their escape, Parzival. Oh, he absolutely deserved it. She took great pleasure in absorbing every little detail of it, the crisp twang in the air as Huang San swung his staff with the underlying force of the earth itself, Rohen setting upon the vampire like a wolf to her prey, Eleanor with her sword blazing brightly for the first time in months, and Kaida's spirit summon hurling himself at the offender with far more vigor than any of them. Kaida herself stood off to the side, tails fluffed and teeth bared, snarling down the approaching demons.

In the roiling battlefield of black and red, a singular aberration of pink caught her eye when she... really didn't want to. Nelumba, the demon pixie, was up to her devilry again, doing something or the other that always escaped the grasp of Kannaka's understanding. With some distaste, she saw the shimmering rolls of gossamer and mesh, fine, fine fabrics for the most gruesome of wars. The excessive decorative ribbons fluttered with the fey's abrupt motions as the girl broke out into the sacred dance of destruction, the Tandava. Kannaka wondered, really, how did the fairy manage to perform her divine synchronisation while lacking the inherent anger or visceral grief that comes with the Tandava? Clearly another mystery of the universe, known perhaps only to Nel and Shiva himself; after all, who knew what else the demon child was capable of?

Off to the sides, with a ripple, the ground came alive as the faunafolk of the party, Tatag and Mahina called upon their prowess to change the battlefield itself. Rolling curls of thorny vines and prickly bushes sprang out of the ground, skewering every unfortunate creature in its path and sapping them of vitality - she wondered what a plant fed on blood and life would evolve to be? Perhaps she already had her answer, as she watched the sylvans tap deep into their ancestry and break through the fight to the dormant heart of the earth below.

"Kan-na-ka,"

And high in the sky, much closer to her field of vision, battled the dragons. Of the three, Kannaka was familiar with only two of them - Enthyskana and Aaxir, her comrades in arms- er, in wings, clashing tooth and claw with a far larger specimen, a mottled black and blue dragon with sweeping wings and a full mane. She was far too distant to hear the words exchanged between all parties, but she could recognize turmoil when she saw one - between Enthy's furrowed brow and Aaxir's quick, weaving attacks, she had seen more than enough to make her move. Silently taking wing in the lower thickets of clouds, she felt the air grow thick with static, and dipped away to give a wide margin to the resulting crash of lightning the big guy had conjured. Ducking out of sight of the airborne gargoyle-like enemies and her companions' evasive maneuvers quickly became clear to her. Was she to join them and create an opening for attack?

"Kannaka."

"I'm a little busy, Hou Yi," The girl snarled, reaching into her quiver to nock arrows into her bow, eyes darting about frantically searching for an opportunity to strike down as many airborne enemies as she could without being detected.
"You will listen to me. I cannot believe I have to tell you after all these years under my guidance. Now you tell me. What. Do. You. See?"

The girl paused, for a long, long moment, watching the war wage on, without her. Lightning struck and thunder rumbled, great wingbeats stirred up the snow underneath and draconic figures darted through the air. Below, far far below, darted more figures, varied in size and agility and specialization. All around her, the world burned. Kannaka felt her heart rate slow, and her eyes slowly focused on the dragon below. Her thoughts quietened, her gaze steadied. She could no longer see everything, but she could see... him. Every breath and the heave of scales beneath. Every flap and the tension of leather skin against wind. Every darting of the reptilian eye, every fibre of the iris flexing as the beast moved in perfect synchronization like a well-oiled machine of destruction and death. The slight twitch of his lip, the thick, flammable discharge dripping between his teeth, the reflection of herself off his ebony claws...

Kannaka took aim.



"I see you."

The words escaped her lips in a low, breathy hiss, misting into the air far before the voice reached any ears.

And she fired.

-

The arrow flew true, aimed right for Hargred's eye, nestled away as it was in scales and fur. And with a burst of speed and a flare of her wings, Kannaka steadied herself in the air, and cried out to her god. "Hou Yi! Lend me your strength! Like... like you said, like grains of sand in the desert, like drops of water in the ocean- like the sea of stars in the sky... fall!" And with a blaze of light and a flurry of feathers falling to the floor, she released her barrage of arrows, fueled by the power of the Archer God himself, multiplying seemingly endlessly until the sun was blotted out of view. Like rain after a drought, or like the sun after a storm, the arrows peppered down upon the massive frame of Hargred, looking to tear whatever they could strike to shreds. To puncture the wings through and through with a million swift strikes, to shatter scales with the force of an army, to disorient, blind and deafen, to drum out the voices of the rest of the world under the hail of her wrath. And yet she did not cease. Arrow after arrow flew from her hands, body finely tuned and mind commanding it smoothly, one after the other. The one in front of Khatiy. The one attacking Kaida from behind. The one sneaking up on Nani. The one approaching Aaxir. The one blindsiding Rohen. The one in the way of Pollux. The one that just barely survived. Stars in the sky. Fall.

 

[Nessi]

Parzival & Hargred

“Hey, Parzival. When this war is over, what’s your plan? I mean, after this, our skills won’t be needed as much, it’ll be an era of peace you know! Here’s an idea…. We can start a farm with everyone, at least everyone who don’t know what to do with themselves, I’ve got pl-”
The memory was interrupted by yet another assailant, a mountainous man who cursed Parzival to the depths of hell with every swing of his golden staff. With his newly acquired strength, the royal vampire was able to keep up fairly easy with Huang San, until he sensed another presence, followed up by a volley of magical daggers.
Parzival erected a barrier with his blood to block the water projectiles being flung at him wildly. His mind wasn’t focused at all at what Rohen shouted to him, but rather what laid before him.
“Huang San….you and I aren’t so different.” He blurted out. Under normal circumstances, Parzival would never utter such a sentence, to compare himself to a filthy human, but now was different, perhaps it was because memories of the past were coming up, now that his mask was gone.

But he wouldn’t have time to follow up on the thought, for Chrome was once again approaching him, surrounded by blood, and using blood magic to form a sort of armor. Parzival disengaged Huang San, and rushed straight for Chrome, thrusting out his arm just like in the prison.
“Forced…Funeral!” Parzival roared, and instantly Chrome’s armor began to lose shape, before bursting into painful flames. But Parzival didn’t simply let him go with a kick, this time he wanted to be sure that Chrome was out for good, so with his trusty blade, he slashed Chromes chest in an X pattern, before hitting him with a palm strike with so much force, that it sent the poor vampire flying, while the flames persisted. Parzival got down low, about to chase down Chrome, and finish him off for good.
“Hey Parzival! Come my friend, we have a world to save!” a voice from a distant memory shouted. Parzival froze, and a small smile appeared on his face, of all times to be thinking about him, of course it would be in the middle of a battle.

Rings of fire approached Parzival, but upon impact, the only thing that occurred was a feathery explosion of crows, all flying off in different directions, only to reform right above Nel, the one who sent the rings of fire to begin with. Blood gathered towards Parzivals blade, and in an instant the sword grew at least triple its original length. The vampire swung the blade, but not aimed directly at Nel, but rather the snow in front of her. The swing caused a massive amount of snow to be kicked up, blocking Nel’s vision. Before the small Fae could move out of the cloud of snow, Parzival was already rushing her from behind, hoping to cut Shiva’s hero clean in half.

~~~


Meanwhile, the sound of thunder bellowed as Hargred’s thunderstrike was for the most part, dodged, outside of getting a single measly hit on the feathered dragon. When Enthy spoke to him, Hargred opened his mouth to shout something back, but he had no response to her question.
“B-Bad people killed my mother…bad people! I don’t want bad people to hurt anyone else, is that disturbing the balance?” Hargred asked. His pupils were no longer slits, but rather, they were widened, and despite the attacks that had been sent moments after, the mighty storm dragon’s guard was down, and the surging thunder that was once in the sky went silent.
“Everyone looks at me like I’m a monster…but I told myself that it was okay, since everyone I killed were the bad people…Father said so, bu-” Hargred’s instincts flared up, and he quickly used his scaly hand to block the arrow meant to take his eye out, but soon he’d be facing down hundreds of arrows, causing Hargred to roar in anger. The storm dragon tried to use his dragon magic to destroy the arrows, but he was too slow, and screamed in pain as he began to plummet from the sky. The massive storm dragon shrank down to the size of a human, and snow flew everywhere when he impacted the ground.

When the snow cleared, what was left was Hargred in his human form, with light blue skin, wild hair, and black horns that matched his clothes and tail. Arrows protruded from several areas, and Hargred seethed in pain as he attempted, and failed to get up. So he rolled on his back, and tried to push himself away from the approaching heroes.
“You tricked me! You don’t care about what I want at all, your bad people after all!” Hargred hissed, but even as he yelled at the heroes, it was evident that he was scared, his eyes darting all over the place, and his body shaking against his will.
“Come on, finish the job!” He yelled out, tears welling in his eyes due to the pain.

 

[Nano]

Enthyskana Rhoda

Interactions: Hargred ( Nessi ) | Aaxir ( LazyDaze ) | Tiberius ( Worthlessplebian )

Mentions: Kannaka ( Fluff )

Soothed by Aaxir’s verdant flames reminiscent of the wilderness’ vibrant greenery, Enthy’s soul finally ceased its quivering. Hargred lay prone upon the muddied snow, his weakened form pathetically shaking from the pain of his injuries. He had fallen all too soon, perhaps having been caught off guard, allowing the aloof raven’s arrows to violently surge and cut through the storm. A sour feeling tickled the back of her throat at the thought that she’d contributed to the alleged “dirty trick” with her words, regardless of what her true intentions had been. However, as the reptilian slits of her eyes sharpened and zeroed in on the astonishingly childish display of the dragon, she felt neither disgust nor pity for the hand. She only felt that it was unfortunate that circumstances had once again brought them before an enemy who was more of a blade sharpened by a callous puppeteer than an individual being who fought under his own instruction.

Enthy looked back at Aaxir, reassured by the steady presence he provided. Though she’d flown off before she received his answer, she had still heard his words, and his reply hadn’t surprised her. Whether it be now or in the future, she doubted she’d ever possess the gall to spit upon her patron’s dignity. She knew Veritas was still vigilantly watching, and she didn’t dare earning his disapproval by cutting away Hargred’s last breath with her own hand. But Aaxir’s answer reminded her that whatever other actions (or inactions) she took were her decisions and hers alone.

She knew what to do, even if she didn’t like it. In fact, she doubted anyone would. Yet if there was truly some form of good that could come out of this, then she was willing to make that bet even if it were solely for her own self-satisfaction.

Enthy’s form contracted, wrapping itself back in human skin as she allowed her wings to release their hold on the sky. She landed a few feet from Hargred and slowly walked closer until she stood right before him. With nothing but Veritas’s tome in her hands, she stared down at him impassively.

“Good. Bad. Did someone tell you they were all bad people, or did you see it for yourself?”

Her tone was neither soft nor harsh, merely inquisitive for the sake of provoking the other dragon in some way.

“Then let me ask you, are you sure that everyone you killed had the ability to fight back? Did their hands truly have the power to harm another as you claim they have?”

Enthy paused, drawing in a deep breath as if she were reluctant for her next words to be heard. Her fingers dug themselves into the leather binding of Veritas’s tome, but her tone remained even.

“I can’t promise you peace or happiness, but if you wish to see the future through your own eyes, I can offer you an oath sealed by magic. If you take it, you won’t be able to harm us, but we won’t be able to harm you either.”

After all, it was an impossible ask for the heroes and Enthy herself to trust one of Tiryan’s hands, regardless of his naivete. She wasn’t even sure if they’d agree to her current proposal, and she’d likely have to work for their approval after the battle.

“However,”

Enthy suddenly cut herself off and turned her gaze towards the other heroes who were still embroiled in battle,

“That has to wait until the battle’s over.”

“So sit here and think about it,”

she said while taking a knee and inspecting Hargred’s injuries. Taking care not to aggravate his injuries, she quickly bound his hands and feet with a spell that was sure enough to hold now that the dragon was in a weakened state.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,”

Enthy called out to the other heroes in the vicinity. She stood back up and called forth her sword, eyeing the remaining monsters warily, unsure of how they’d react now that their master was down. However, she didn’t forget to apologize for acting on her own.

“And…and sorry if none of this makes any sense. I won’t blame you if you hold this against me, but please give me a chance to explain later.”

===

Note: It was mentioned briefly in Enthy's CS, but Veritas has the ability to bind two (or more) people within a contract/oath. Breaking the oath results in whatever penalty was agreed upon beforehand or even death. Enthy's referring to this spell when she makes her offer to Hargred.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

Only the ravenous growls and howls and the thudding clash of steel on flesh could be heard in Tiberius' little corner of the battlefield. The white ground soon gave way to the bloodied chunks of meat, bone, or sinew. A foul, mephitic smell gripped the battlefield, as the tide of grey flesh split open upon their weapons. Offals spewing half-digested feed and digestive fluids. Their reaping had been cold, clinical, and unyielding. The swingings of their mighty weapons, however, is not sufficient to hold them all at bay. The circle shrank as one killed was replaced by two more in its place. Polux went long and wide, his mighty mace throwing back mangled bodies against the tide, in welters of ripped flesh. Soon, Tiberius would find himself back to back with his void-born brother, eviscerating two beasts with a flurry of slashes. Muscles were ignited from exertion, the wound on his back ripped open, runnels of crimson fluid dripping down. They came at them, jaws and claws out, paws scratching and throats screaming for their deaths.

"Qin," The gladiator rasped, as Polux crushed a chimera's head in his gauntlets, gore and grey matter drip down through his metal fingers. Tiberius' movements were blurry, a savage motion of steel, as his spatha chopped the heads and limbs off with each strike, the sword running with ichor. His metal shield's smooth surfaced was slick, sticky with the gory remains of those who got too close.

"You rang?" The voice whispered into his ear amidst the chaos. It was louder than the screams, louder than his heartbeat. The words were velvety, smoother than the surface of porcelain and a hundred times sweeter than molten chocolate. Tiberius groaned a confirmation as he slashed a beast across its chest. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," Her lips clicked. "You do not think about me, you do not talk to me, you do not even worship me. Always asking, just asking, for my assistance, aren't you?" Tiberius paused in his assault, bending away from a swipe meant to cleave his head off, missing his throat by inches. He dashed the rim of his shield against the mottled assailant. Tiberius bit his cheek, before answering, with word and blade.

He read the deeper meaning, why she intoned that word. "Argh... Worship? Let the knee-scrappers, the hand-claspers their methods. If I did, I've my own, as quiet as the night herself, deeper than the darkest shadows."

He could tell, out of the corner of his eye, that a smile, ethereal as it were, existed. A smile of gleaming satisfaction before it unfurled into a laughter, lithe and soubrette in its timber. "Oh, my gladiator, my gladiator. Haha, your work is marvelous around you. Remind me to take you on one of my hunts across the stars. Now, what is thine request?" They both knew that this was just to catch attention, to raise his head above the murky-waters of battle, it is... easy to lose oneself in it.

"The battle is changing." He says, but before he could speak again, he hears the thick thud of an arrow hitting a target. Polux stood, mace in hand, in front of a foe with an arrow lodged in its spine. He swung his two-hander round then caved the skull in with the heavy butt of his mace's hilt. Both of them gaze up, seeing the massive-winged form of Hargred pelted by a storm of arrows. Now was their chance.

He could've said anything, but they were so far past that with Qin. Her nails puncture his brain, slithering into the grooves, weaving warp and weft. Tiberius' hands trembled as power, unfaltering power, is pressed into his skull! Eyes rolling back, revealing the webbing of capillaries brimming with energy, they burst. Spilling the nightsky in all its starred glory in the gladiator's sclera. The very air shuddered, juddering with a misty blackness which flowed from the pores of Tiberius' skin. The man raised his arms skyward, spatha and shield shaking. Steel screaming, tearing. Hard shadows, pale shadows spewed from behind his eyes, enwrapping his head in an elongated, angular shape. A curved crest adorning the apex. Then blue balefire banished the shadows, revealing the brass-coloured helm, a singular slit billowing azure fury like a brazier. The balefire turned to witch-lightning, his lightly tan skin like a conductor for the energies that slithered furiously down, clothing his arm-to-fist in armour; pauldron to gauntlet. A cloak, ephemeral as the night, sprouts from his shoulders with a thousand stars, a dozen constellations trimmed with energy. It defied the flowing air, it was as though the shroud was unconcerned with the considerations of gravity.

The visor glowed with an electric blue, sparking with power, the spatha and shield were changing in his hands, contouring. The shield shrank and grew wicked edges, while the spatha turned into a spear that crackled with a charge.

Without a word uttered, Polux' massive hand closed around Tiberius waist.

"And what if you miss?"

"We won't" A deep chuckle could be heard from Polux as he rolled back his left side, taking aim with his space-seared eyes. The limbs flung the warrior, his metal armour roaring like a blade against an anvil.

He shed darkness as he knifed through out the air, becoming a missile with a glowing point, but as Tiberius streaked across the sky, he noticed the change as Hargred fell.

Spinning to divert the momentum, Tiberius intentionally veered away, a blow like this would've killed that dragon. The gladiator became a twisting projectile of writhing darkness as it hurled towards the ground. Tiberius brought his shield forward, its blue core becoming enveloped by darkness before shooting out a tendril to slow his descent. Even with the resisting force, the impact flattened several beast, producing a small crater of snow and bare rock.

Rising to his feet, he stepped over the crater's edge and began pacing to the feeble form of Hargred. He shifted his helm to see Enthyskana approaching, tome in hand, imparting an almost dismissive stare. He reached her side, listening to her speak to the dragon, pondering her words himself.

Except, he had heard the words from the boy too. Begging for them to finish it. Steeped in the naivete of childhood. His Emperor had been drafting, for all intents and purposes, children into his warfare against them.

He crouches, almost to Hargred's eye level, as Enthyskana spoke. The shroud of stars gently laying across the rocks and snowflakes. Their azure eyes meet for the briefest moment, an instance in which nothing could hide, he surveys him for pain. Not the pain of the physical, for his face already betrayed the evident agonies, but the pain of the soul.

And it had been true. He found the kindred experience in the young dragon. He rose as Enthyskana concluded her offer. The gladiator accused the Emperor's personal lap-dragon with his gauntlet, weapons gone. "We will talk after this. You and I." His voice rebounded with unnatural tremor, words echoing. However, it provided neither comfort, nor condemnation, these things do not concern Tiberius.

The Gladiator turned to Enthy, who spoke to them now, offering her apologies and promises of explanation later. "Veritas?" Tiberius says, as if he were the culprit behind this. "Fīat iūstitia ruat cælum, I know the maxim quite well." He turned to the heroes then the shattered horde with one master fallen.

"I will assist Avia and Kai. If need be, the vampire will be dealt with as well."

====

Note: Fīat iūstitia ruat cælum means Let Justice be done though the heavens fall. The maxim exemplifies and supports the belief that justice must be done, regardless of the consequences.

Interactions: Nano (Enthy), LazyDaze (Aaxir), Nessi (Hargred)
Mentions: Bloody_Death (Kai)/(Grandmother Yī Nuò)

 

[Dawnsx]

Nelumba

Years of severe training with Shiva (severe for whom was better left unsaid,) kept Nel from stumbling in surprise mid-dance when Parzival exploded into a murder of crows. She felt like her eyeballs might bounce out of her head with the way they tried to track each individual crow, and she realized half a second too late that they were scrambling to rejoin into a black cloud right on top of her head.

A shrill shriek escaped Nel, and her arms (all four of 'em!) instinctively lifted to try and block the blade bearing down at her.

"KEEP DANCING," Shiva's voice thundered in her brain.

And okay. Nel knew that Shiva didn't love her, but at least he never tried to get her murdered before. At least, not that she was aware of! So with a high-pitched wail, Nel shoved past her instincts and forced herself to continue with the movements of the tandava, creating new rings of fire around her body.

And what do you know! Parzival's sword didn't puncture her fragile, empty cranium! Instead, a flurry of snow geysered up in front of her, drawing another startled screech from Nel. The flames around her rose to meet the snow, melting it into water that splashed around her.

"Behind you! Raise your Trishula!"

Like following the commands in a lethal game of Simon Says (or Shiva says?), Nel whirled around and clumsily lifted the Trishula. There was a loud clang as sword met trident, and Nel's upper two arms tingled as the shock of the collision traveled through her body.

“Wahh! Somebody help meee!”

Cowed by Parzival’s unexpected attack, Nel swung her lower two arms forward gracelessly, throwing a torrent of melted snow at the vampire.

 

[Beann]

Suzuki Kaida

While her intention was to chase after her disobedient spirit initially, Kaida had found herself gravitating towards Kai to aid in culling the beasts. She worked swiftly to cut down any unfortunate to be caught in their healer’s ability. Although her gaze occasionally lingered between the two battles against Hargred and Parzival, her main focus was getting rid of any monster that threatened her and Kai. It quickly became a pattern: slow, cut, next. She typically wasn’t too keen on fighting but the adrenaline pumping through her veins had her tails swishing in excitement as she met monster after monster. Kaida sliced through another beast and fixated her eyes on the next —

“Suzuki.”

A familiar voice rang through her head, breaking the flow of battle.

“Eyes up. Focus on what is important — or rather, who is important.”

Her eyes refocused past the surrounding beasts and fixated on a weakened Parzival. She watched for a brief moment as her fellow companion, Nel, blocked the Hand’s attack and cried out for help. Without a second thought, the kitsune dashed past the incoming monsters, barely evading their lunges as she made her way toward the other heroes. “Ryushi! Protect me!” She called out to her spirit who was still actively participating in the onslaught of attacks against Parzival.

“I’m a little busy here —” the spirit spared a single glance towards Kaida, in which his entire body tensed up in concern as he watched his summoner collapse on the cold snow, “ — FOX LADY!” Pushing aside his vengeful hatred towards the vampire, he made a mad dash for Kaida’s unconscious body. “FUCK OFF!” Ryushi yelled at an incoming beast, dropping low to slash through its front legs before sliding down to meet the kitsune. “Wake up, fox lady! No time for —”

An ethereal form that resembled his summoner walked past him, and he quickly put two and two together. “Why do you leave me to babysit?” He growled in annoyance as he rose to his feet, staying close to protect Kaida’s physical body.

Kaida offered her spirit a sympathetic glance before turning to face the thorn in all their sides. “Kami-sama, bless me your strength.” A whisper lost amidst the chaos of battle but her goddess heard loud and clear. She could feel an empowered energy flow into Kogitsune-maru as she gripped the blade’s hilt tightly. The snow underneath her was undisturbed as Kaida rushed Parzival. Using Nel’s attack, (and distraction?) she slipped behind the vampire and hissed, "cross the veil!" before delivering a swift cut with the intention to cleave his soul.

 

[Nessi]

Farewell, to the lost

Parzival pushed against Shiva’s hero with all his might, hoping to overpower the small Fae, and end her for good. However, He had grossly underestimated the boost in strength Nel had received once performing divine synchronization, and felt a surprising amount of push back, as well as snow hitting him in the chest. Such things didn’t bother Parzival, instead he focused on Nel, waiting for an opening where he could finally strike down the demented Fae.

And that was when Parzival had sealed his fate.

Parzival sensed her first, a mass of mana directly behind him, a spirit to be precise. He had been so focused on Nel, that he hadn’t even sensed the spirit until it was far too late. Parzival wouldn’t even have time to turn around before Kaida brought Kogitsune-maru down upon the royal vampire.
There was no physical wound left by Kaida, but the pain Parzival experienced was the worst pain one could inflict unto another person. He roared in pain, trying his best to create distance between himself and the other heroes, but he didn’t end up getting very far. His eyes began to droop, and Parzival could feel his body getting heavier the more he tried to move.
“Ah, I suppose this is where I die then” Parzival uttered.
“Not yet, you still have one final trump card.” the voice spoke once more.
Parzival looked down at himself, watching as his life slowly slipped away, and looked back at the heroes, a smile forming on his face
“My, that was a fine strike...but I suppose I have all but one trick remaining to show, so why not use it? " Parzival announced, his face unchanging in emotion.

“Walpurgisnacht!”

The flames created by Parzival, even the fire that burned his chest, turned from bright red to a shimmering black. Hundreds of screams molded into one, bone chilling sound as the vision of a skull took over each and every hero’s vision.

When the skull faded, the heroes found themselves in a completely different setting. The air was hot, and the snowy forest was replaced by a city rife with chaos and flame. Humans sang and danced through the streets, while vampires, witches, and mages all seemed to run in fear from soldiers whose crests were entirely unfamiliar, and armor extremely outdated.

“No..please…please have mercy!”

“Take me, but leave my boy! Don’t touch my boy!”

“I’m not a demon, I am a doctor, yo-”

“Don’t throw me into the fire, I’m innocent!”

"Help me! someone please help me!"

One by one, the heroes watched as innocent lives were snuffed out, and they saw how the humans laughed and danced, praising the knights for cleansing they’re city of pests and demons.

“There was a hero once, from Solomon’s era, who held the name Saint Walpurga, but she was far from the title. After the war was over, she used her powers to create a nation in which only humans and elves were treated with respect. Then one night, she gave the order that all vampires, demihumans, magicians, alchemists, were to be killed, as a way to purify her country…” Yi Nuo recounted, staring at the destruction that surrounded them.
“We cannot focus on what’s happening around us, Parzival is in the center of the city, down there. We must kill him to free ourselves from this place, for the longer we stay, the weaker our spirits get, until we eventually fizzle out.” Yi Nuo explained.

The old moon elf began to move towards the center of the city, but was met with armed soldiers as soon as she rounded the corner. Instead of turning the other way, the old moon elf launched herself at the soldiers, “Go, get to Parzival! End this once and for all!”

 

[CasualTea]

Farewell, to the lost

Parzival pushed against Shiva’s hero with all his might, hoping to overpower the small Fae, and end her for good. However, He had grossly underestimated the boost in strength Nel had received once performing divine synchronization, and felt a surprising amount of push back, as well as snow hitting him in the chest. Such things didn’t bother Parzival, instead he focused on Nel, waiting for an opening where he could finally strike down the demented Fae.

And that was when Parzival had sealed his fate.

Parzival sensed her first, a mass of mana directly behind him, a spirit to be precise. He had been so focused on Nel, that he hadn’t even sensed the spirit until it was far too late. Parzival wouldn’t even have time to turn around before Kaida brought Kogitsune-maru down upon the royal vampire.
There was no physical wound left by Kaida, but the pain Parzival experienced was the worst pain one could inflict unto another person. He roared in pain, trying his best to create distance between himself and the other heroes, but he didn’t end up getting very far. His eyes began to droop, and Parzival could feel his body getting heavier the more he tried to move.
“Ah, I suppose this is where I die then” Parzival uttered.
“Not yet, you still have one final trump card.” the voice spoke once more.
Parzival looked down at himself, watching as his life slowly slipped away, and looked back at the heroes, a smile forming on his face
“My, that was a fine strike...but I suppose I have all but one trick remaining to show, so why not use it? " Parzival announced, his face unchanging in emotion.

“Walpurgisnacht!”

The flames created by Parzival, even the fire that burned his chest, turned from bright red to a shimmering black. Hundreds of screams molded into one, bone chilling sound as the vision of a skull took over each and every hero’s vision.

When the skull faded, the heroes found themselves in a completely different setting. The air was hot, and the snowy forest was replaced by a city rife with chaos and flame. Humans sang and danced through the streets, while vampires, witches, and mages all seemed to run in fear from soldiers whose crests were entirely unfamiliar, and armor extremely outdated.

“No..please…please have mercy!”

“Take me, but leave my boy! Don’t touch my boy!”

“I’m not a demon, I am a doctor, yo-”

“Don’t throw me into the fire, I’m innocent!”

"Help me! someone please help me!"

One by one, the heroes watched as innocent lives were snuffed out, and they saw how the humans laughed and danced, praising the knights for cleansing they’re city of pests and demons.

“There was a hero once, from Solomon’s era, who held the name Saint Walpurga, but she was far from the title. After the war was over, she used her powers to create a nation in which only humans and elves were treated with respect. Then one night, she gave the order that all vampires, demihumans, magicians, alchemists, were to be killed, as a way to purify her country…” Yi Nuo recounted, staring at the destruction that surrounded them.
“We cannot focus on what’s happening around us, Parzival is in the center of the city, down there. We must kill him to free ourselves from this place, for the longer we stay, the weaker our spirits get, until we eventually fizzle out.” Yi Nuo explained.

The old moon elf began to move towards the center of the city, but was met with armed soldiers as soon as she rounded the corner. Instead of turning the other way, the old moon elf launched herself at the soldiers, “Go, get to Parzival! End this once and for all!”

An arrow strike awoke Rohen from her maddened stupor. She was too focused on Parzival that a mere low-ranking beast was preying on her? It stopped her dead in her tracks while forming her water blades again to slice them in a full circle around her to clear off any other beasts that had gotten too close. "That was Hou Yi. The one who chose Kannaka." Tiamat whispered in Rohen's ear, but more like inside her head. She looked toward Kannaka and gave a nod. "Guess I owe her then." She said before turning her gaze at the battlefield and to reestablish her surroundings. Ripped trees, a snowy flat defiled by her called upon rock formations and the corpses of many beasts alike.

It was also then she witnessed how her allies' attacks against Parzival weren't effective enough. Chrome being launched back like a bull just rammed into him.

Wait is that fool covered in fucking blood?

After what she just fucking said in the beginning of this? Is... Is he stupid or just stupid? Oh gee, the first actual advice she could give and one party member just didn't heed it. She thought Chrome to be a smart little egg, being a vampire and all with all those years of experience. Well nope. No, that just is not even it! He should've just asked Parzival to throw him to the fucking moon and declare his body a kitchen and roast some pork over him before offering Tiryan a whole buffet, Chrome-roasted style. And Nel's rings of fire bursting forth from--- Wha...

Rings of fire...?

Rohen was still in a staggered state when she tried to put up any sort of effective defense, all she could do was put up her water blades and hope for the best. But when the flames reached her, she didn't feel anything? But it seems to have gotten the other beasts behind her. Was that just a special type of flame? She had much to learn about her allies and their abilities but she didn't think to ask them. Now she's only experiencing them first hand since she never fought with them much previously.

The events continued to unfold while she tried to reposition herself to fight Parzival but it was too late. Kaida's spirit dealt the last blow and Parzival unleashed one more spell which she swore she thought death was coming to Rohen at last. She shielded herself with her metal arm, only to feel a gale of heat. When she uncovered her eyes, she thought she witnessed Hell. But Tiamat reeled her back in. "You're not dead, child. You still have work to do." Rohen grunted. "Yeah, no kiddin'. The fuck is this place, anyway? It doesn't feel real." She commented as she witnessed the massacre of vampires, witches and mages while the humans rejoiced.

"Think of it like a picture in a museum. A painting of a real event in the past. But you're in it." Rohen's eyes widened a little. "A human did all this. A hero, in fact. Makes you wonder."

Rohen could feel her stomach turn. So what she was doing, was wrong? Well she knew she was wrong but... Is this what it feels like? "Worry not child, those you've worked on were not innocent. While indeed, they do have families and that they live a life just like you, they fight for a darker purpose."

"There was a hero once, from Solomon’s era, who held the name Saint Walpurga, but she was far from the title." Yi Nuo began. "After the war was over, she used her powers to create a nation in which only humans and elves were treated with respect. Then one night, she gave the order that all vampires, demihumans, magicians, alchemists, were to be killed, as a way to purify her country…"

Dear Tiamat... What sort of hero is that? Was it just the power that gotten to her? A past trauma? Perhaps it was just the way she thought. Nevertheless, despite her works, she knew this was clearly wrong, beyond question. A goddamned crime against life itself.

“We cannot focus on what’s happening around us, Parzival is in the center of the city, down there. We must kill him to free ourselves from this place, for the longer we stay, the weaker our spirits get, until we eventually fizzle out."

"Go, get to Parzival! End this once and for all!"

Right. This isn't real. It already happened, there's no use trying to save them nor pursue the one who caused it. They needed to get to the source. She hardened herself once more, steeling herself and blocking out the events around her. She recognized that her allies are also with her. Just like how she initiated the first move after Yi Nuo's order, she'll do it once more.

She drew her flintlock at her side and loaded a shot. She took one of her specially made munitions and loaded it into the chamber and coated it with some flame magic she borrowed from the environment around them. Afterwards, she drew her machete and coated it in her water magic, forming an extended blade that surged violently and being reinforced within using her earth magic to gather rubble for the base.

Remembering vaguely his ramblings earlier and the scene she's witnessing, it all makes sense to her. She gets it. In fact, she felt sympathy towards him. Which was why she planned to at least give him a painless death were it up to her. A shot through the head and a stab through the heart, perhaps a sure way to make sure he dies as quick as possible. Nothing flashy, nothing prolonged. Quick and clean was her intent. She spoke once more before becoming mobile again.

"Focus up, come on. Let's put him to rest and send him to the afterlife."

 

[Kibaa]

Khatiy of Usaama
Partial Synchronization

The approach that Khatiy had chosen for this ensuing battle was to bide her time. She had remained upon Yi Nuo's transformed back, clutched tightly to the transformed moon elf's fur with all four extremities as the Sultan's weapons dangled from her body, undrawn and untouched. Perhaps she may catch some flakk from her teammates later on for electing not to participate in the battle, but Khatiy knew this and cared not, for the truth was that horde combat was not exactly her strength. If she chose to participate now, she may only end up getting in the way of those better suited for these kinds of situations, like Tiberius and Rohen who effortlessly cleaved their way through the approaching monsters. Khatiy had reserved herself for the right moment, keeping a careful eye on all sectors of the battlefield as she bobbed and weaved, cleanly dodging stray projectiles and leaping beasts with agility to spare. She had taken a moment to yell at Fel for almost burning part of her hair off with a stray fireball, even almost finding herself decapitated by one of Nelumba's stray water blades. For the most part, nevertheless, it seemed as though the party was more than capable of handling the enemy, the hordes kept at bay by the the brambles of Mahina and Tatag and the lethality of the team's swordspeople and mages. In the air, the party's flyers had been more than a match for the once feared Hargred, while Parzival seemed to struggle taking on so many opponents at once. He had dispatched Chrome, but could dispatch a dozen more?

There was a loud, metallic clang that pierced the air just then. The monsters, numerous as they were, had bypassed part of the party's defensive formation, and one had taken a brave leap towards the unsuspecting Khatiy. She had only barely managed to parry the fiend's quick claws with an even quicker draw of her blade, sparks flying through the air as bronze clashed with necrotic keratin, and the white bandages that served as the sheath of Khatiy's khopesh in lieue of a typical leather one, in traditional Usaaman fashion, were cleaved away, floating dramatically down towards the snowy ground. This clash had sent Khatiy barreling backwards, backflipping through the air from the impact only to narrowly land on her feet with characteristic feline agility and a furious frown upon her features.

"You mongrels! You are not worthy of tasting of the metal of Royalty!" Khatiy snarled back at the beasts who now began to encircle around her, allowing her emotions to get the best of her as per usual, her temper quick as ever. She yelled back at the beasts, revealing then just why she had not chosen to draw her weapon until forced to-- but in doing so, the royalty that she spoke of was not actually herself. Khatiy wielded the legendary Khopesh of Amanirenas, a fabled weapon that is said to have once belonged to a powerful queen of Pyla in ancient times. The fury and agility with which the Usaaman warlord wielded such a weapon was impressive, for the khopesh was as massive as they come, a two-handed cleaver that could sunder through even the largest foes, and yet Khatiy donned it with only one hand, as if it weighed nothing to her.

The monsters came, but Khatiy refused to use the weapon, angrily spiking it tip-first into the ground as she sent a powerful fist towards the first beast that stepped close enough instead. They pounced on her in unison, only to be brutally repelled then by a sudden and loud burst of mana as Khatiy channeled her anger into a transformation, bursting with power right into her Partial Synchronization. Two large cat ears protruded from her cranium then, adorned with the earrings of Usaaman royalty, alerting her to the incoming movements of the monsters as her own eyes kept up with the multitude of movements with newfound precision and focus. Her fist met the next beast, pounding it into the air and making its body undulate with unprecedented strength and ferocity. The Usaaman's own movements were broad, brutish and powerful, it was clear that she was charging her hands and feet with mana to deliver these savage blows, her fighting-style contrasting greatly from her usual display of speed, agility and tact. The monsters stood no chance even against a hero that was unarmed, finding themselves repelled one by one by thunderous strikes that crunched right through their hides and bones. What was this incredible display of power? Khatiy finished the last monster that assailed her with her leg extended right up into the air in parallel to her own upper body, swinging it righteously downwards then like a hammer, pounding her heel down upon the beast's head, right down into the ground as red-brown tattoos displaying the markings of the Sages of the Savannah began to shine brightly upon the skin of her left shoulder, all the way up her neck and into both of her cheeks and eyes. "Sage Art: Gorilla Ngoma! (Gorilla Dance)"


With an arrogant huff, Khatiy dusted off her shoulder-- only to suddenly turn her attention towards her backside, where one of the surviving beasts was about to deliver a sneaky blow-- only to be felled by a wayward arrow in the nick of time. Khatiy growled in frustration, snapping her gaze out into the air to find Kannaka. She had spotted the Kinnari arriving earlier, and the grizzled hero of Bastet knew not how to feel. Part of her was reluctant to admit that she was happy to see the bird after so long, happy to see the newfound strength with which she had felled Hargred with, but Khatiy's other half could not help but feel bitterness and jealousy, wishing she were the one who could claim the glory of having defeated this legendary enemy. "I had that one, Kannaka!" She yelled out into the air. "... You stinky bird! Do not interfere!" Not that there was anything else to interfere with. The horde seemed to have been decimated and the enemy was cornered.

...

Khatiy's glowing eyes momentarily peered towards both ends of the battlefield. First, to Parzival. She could no longer see Kaida. She knew then that the vampire's end was near, she could only hope that Chrome was alright and that Nelumba had not over-exerted herself.

She glanced to Hargred, then, gritting her teeth with anger as she observed the hesitation of Tiberius and the hero of Veritas. "What are you doing, Enthyskana?!" Khatiy yelled at the dragon. "Slay the enemy, now, while he is down!" The Usaaman yelled out in frustration, drawing the Khopesh of Amanirenas from the snow that it was cleaved into, taking a step forth with intent to finish the job herself.
Khatiy would have tried to do so, at the very least, before the party's entire reality was unexpectedly consumed by a nightmarish flame. Their whole world had changed. What had happened?

Two cat-like eyes flickered about the heated environment, desperately trying to gauge just what had occured. Was this a trap? She clutched her sword closely and defensively... Heeding then the wise words of Yi Nuo.

A frustrated breath escaped Khatiy as she shut her eyelids in contemplation. The warlored was seemingly unphased by the barbarities that the party were forced to bear witness to, for perhaps, Khatiy had already experienced similar horrors in her own lifetime. Desensitized to these atrocities, Khatiy seemed almost too calm as a hand reached down to draw the golden Sistrum of Bastet from her waist. "This is an illusion." She remarked to Yi Nuo and the rest of the party, though the fact that this was a mirage created by Parzival was already made obvious by what Yi Nuo had to say. Taking a deep breath, Khatiy's nose flared as she sniffed the air vehemently, doing her best to locate Parzival's scent deeper within the city.

Interactions: Enthyskana Rhoda Nano Kannaka Fluff

 

[Bloody_Death]

KAI NAKAYAMA
Partial Synchronization

It was beginning to feel like an endless onslaught of enemies. He had hoped to clear out enough enemies and assist those who were dealing with the vampire, but that didn't seem to be happening anytime soon. However, with the help of Kaida and Tiberius by his side, it was much more manageable! Not to mention Tiberius had entered synchronization! With these two nearby helping out, the nonstop fighting was a lot more bearable! "Hey, Kai." Wanga's voice suddenly appeared and took Kai by surprise. It wasn't like him to speak during a battle.

"What is it?" Despite getting a bit startled by the deity's voice, his focus still remained on the enemies around him and his two fellow heroes. Never stopping his movements.

"So, I know you're working really hard right now and you're probably not going to like this-"

"Wanga, please. Just tell me what it is. I don't have a lot of time to talk right now."

"Alright, alright. Just wanted to let you know that your vampire friend is about to need some emergency treatment."

"WHAT!?" Kai's head turned back towards Chrome so fast after finishing off the current wave of beasts he was dealing with. Watching in both fear and shock as his comrade vampire was coating himself in blood. Like- the same type of blood that Parzival is able to ignite into flames? Whenever he wants? He might as well just be setting himself on fire at this rate!? If Chrome wanted to die there were surely better, less painful, ways to go about that. Hell- he could have just asked Nel to do it for him! "What is he doing? Is he trying to die!?" He spoke exasperated but not able to keep watching as more beasts kept coming. And they were struck down by the healer...with a surprising amount of aggression. The wind blades he shot out before were nothing compared to the speed of these current blades that were now wiping heads clean off necks.

"I told you you weren't going to like it." Was all Wanga was willing to say, lest he wanted to be the person on the receiving end of, what can be best described as, an angry mother. Kai let out one of the biggest sighs he had in a while. Mumbling out so many curses under his breath that one would think he was a witch. And this was enough for Wanga to back off before he ended up poking this sleeping bear even more.

By the time he was able to look back at Chrome...he was already down for the count. Meaning he had to get there now. He turned to Kaida and Tibby. Ready to ask them if they could handle this so he could help Chrome, but he froze when he heard a shriek from Nel to Kaida suddenly running into the enemies to help her! "Ah- Kaida!" He exclaimed, quickly sending out more streams of water to slow down the beasts the kitsune barely managed to avoid. Keeping them at bay so they wouldn't continue chasing her. When she collapsed he almost had a heart attack! But soon relaxed. Recalling that she did have some sort of power that often caused her to collapse like that. So she was fine! Nel would probably be fine with Kaida's help. Meaning he just had to get to Chrome. Which was easier said than done. He frowned before letting out a huff. He had hoped that he wouldn't have to exert too much mana for non-healing-related things. But he really had to go. Gripping the fan in his hand, the faint blue glow grew brighter. Shooting out twice as many streams of water as before. Slowing down a good amount of enemies before looking at Tibby. "I'm sorry, Tiberius. I need to go help Chrome. I'll try and keep these beasts trapped as long as I can. Hopefully, it's enough time for you to wipe most of them out!" He called out to the enhanced gladiator before running off towards the injured flaming vampire. Wherever he got thrown off to.

Luckily, it was quite easy to spot a flaming person. So he made his way over to him quickly. Immediately drenching the man with a small blast of water so the flames would be extinguished quickly. And only after doing that did he realize that wetness and the cold really don't go together. "Can vampires get sick, Wanga? Or at least freeze to death. Yikes. Sorry Chrome."

"Wellll. They can. Not as often as humans though. But I'm sure he'd much rather freeze than burn."

"That is true." If Chrome really did get sick...then that becomes his responsibility as well anyway. So it should be fine. He crouched down next to the vampire. "Heyyy...I'm surprised you're still awake after such a blow. But that's good." He spoke, in a soft voice as he prepared to treat him. "It would be a waste of my time to scold someone who isn't even awake to hear it-" Before Kai could even finish that quip at Chrome, he visibly flinched. The sound of an ear-piercing shriek before his vision began to blur...showing him a skull? He grimaced, holding his head as he tried to blink away whatever was happening to him.

"Woah- hey! You okay, Kai? It's not like you to stop mid-way through one of your rude comments...oh. Oh." The setting around them suddenly shifted from a snowy forest to a city. One cloaked in blistering flames. New screams began filling the air, along with an uncomfortable heat. Were they brought into hell or something? He glanced in the direction of the screams. Watching as people were struck down where they stood. Even when Yī Nuò explained what this was his eyes didn't tear away from the scene. He knew...that stuff like this happened. It still does in the modern day. He's seen a few hunts himself, albeit not to this extent.

"Kai...?"

It was so sickening...it wasn't real. And he knew this wasn't real...but this is something that did happen. At some point in time, there were people who were subjected to this sort of life. These were real people at some point.

"Kai."

What was even the point of doing something like this? Purify the nation!? Since when did mass genocide lead to purification? Completely eradicating a problem isn't going to fix it-

"KAI!"

"WHAT!?"

"You're spacing out."

"No...I'm not."

"You are. Anyways, you still have a patient. You need to focus."

"Oh right." He looked back to Chrome with a sheepish nod. He couldn't let these tricks disturb him. That's what Parzival wanted. Speaking of Chrome- "Chrome what were you thinking? A blood cloak? When Parzival is known to set blood on fire? Do you see what I'm getting at here? That's the equivalent of dowsing yourself in alcohol, jumping into a fire, and being surprised that you caught on fire. For someone who's weak to fire, you sure love playing with it, huh?" Despite how much he was running his mouth, he continued to work very efficiently on the vampire's wounds. Focusing on healing the slashes across his chest first. "Now- I'm not saying this to spite your ability in any way. I personally think it's very good! Blood is everywhere and you can make it into armor just like that. It just wasn't the best match-up for who we were up against." Even if Chrome did the absolute worst thing he could have done at that moment, he didn't want to discourage the other. He wasn't talking badly about his abilities. He was talking badly about his choice of action. He soon patched up the flesh wounds on his chest and nodded. "There we go. Now where would you be without me?" He spoke in a joking tone. Hoping to lighten the mood, but he soon heard more screams from the people around him and quickly looked back. His own mood dropped even lower as his attention was drawn to the chaos.

"Alright. This isn't going to work. You're going to take all day at this rate. And I don't mean to scare you, but time really isn't on your side." Kai snapped back to what he was doing when he heard Wanga's voice again. But his words alarmed him a bit.

"Don't have time? What do you mean?"

"You heard the old lady. The longer you stay here the weaker your spirits get. The injured naturally have weaker spirits. Not to mention the guards are hunting non-human and non-elven people. Also also, saying the granny is currently fighting some guards, it's very possible those guards are going to try and toss your vamp friend into the flames when they notice him. And then also you because you're trying to help him." The lazy god explained before giving a sigh. "Come to the garden before one of those guards tries to attack you. He'll be safer here and you'll actually be able to work properly."

Kai tugged at his hair. He knew Wanga was right. That he was actually making sense for once. Even without knowing about how the souls of the injured are going to die quicker here, he couldn't focus. The screaming, the jeers of the other humans, the unbearable suffocating air from the flames. He was going to be sick. To think he was the same species as those cruel enough to see this as a joyous thing? Wait- he was getting lost in his head again. He really shouldn't be here. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, shaking his head to get rid of these thoughts as he stood up.

"Pfft- well. I don't know what you're even sorry for. But you can make it up to me by treating me to some Jorvik delicacies~" Kai could imagine the exact expression Wanga was currently making when he heard that. Letting out a small laugh at the mental image.

"You would have made me bring them to you one way or another, huh? But fine. I'll make sure to bring you something good." Kai gave a small nod to himself. Feeling a bit better now. But now was the hard part. Moving this giant guy closer to the wall! "We're going to have to take a detour...sorry in advance if this hurts. I'm not strong enough to carry you...so I'm gonna have to drag you." He couldn't carry a guy like this no matter what. So dragging him it was! Reaching under the vampire's arms, he hooked his arms around his shoulders and carefully pulled him to the nearest wall. Letting out a sigh of relief when they finally arrived. "By the gods. I need to work out more." That should not have been this hard. However, he should actually just develop a spell that can carry others and skip out on the working out part. Yeah. That sounds better. "Alright." After taking a moment to catch his breath he stood up straight. Holding out his left hand, palm facing up towards the heavens. "Please lend me your help."

As if on queue, a key appeared before Kai. Drifting down from the sky like it came from the heavens itself. Landing on his extended hand. He smiled at the key. Gripping it in his hand with a happy hum. He always felt a bit happier when he saw this key. He prepared to open the portal only to pause. Noticing...a blue guy? Who- Was that Hargred? What was he doing here? And why was he tied up?

"Wow. I did not expect that one. Not to mention he got pulled in here with you all too." Wanga pointed out.

"He looks badly hurt...and terrified." Not as bad of a shape as Chrome, but he was far from good. "Doesn't that mean he'll die if he's in here for too long? But he and Parzival are on the same side. Did he not notice he got caught up in his spell yet?"

"Maybe he made him immune. I highly doubt that. But it's there if you want to stay optimistic. If he isn't...then I don't have high hopes for his survival." Kai sighed at the god's words. That was not helping.

"Should I bring him? If he's not dead that means someone kept him alive for a reason." He hopes no one expected him to deal the killing blow! Despite all this dragon has done...he couldn't bring himself to strike down someone who looked so pitiful and scared.

"That's up to you. Honestly, I'd prefer not to have one of Tiryan's hands in my garden. But I'll trust your judgment on this. You decide whether helping him is worth the risk."

"Why would you do this to me?" Why did he have to make the decision!? He didn't know what to do!? And he was sure Wanga didn't know as well. Which is why he put this back onto him. He looked between the two injured people. He really had to make a decision quickly before they both succumbed to this illusion. "What did I do to deserve this?" He mumbled, turning to face the dragon. He was clearly apprehensive about the dragon, but he didn't show any sign of trying to attack.

"Hargred...I'm opening a portal to Wanga's garden. Do you want to come with us?" He asked cautiously, motioning to the injured Chrome he was already bringing along. "I don't trust you though. So I won't heal you. Not completely. But you'll be safer and I'll try my best to numb any pain and stop any bleeding. I'll make sure you won't die. If that's what you want." And that was his offer. If the dragon chooses to stay, then that's his choice. He didn't want to leave without giving him a choice.

With that said, he turned toward the wall. He swung his left arm up in a clockwise motion, pointing the key towards the sky as it began to grow in size. Reaching the size of a small broadsword. "Show me the way to you, Wanga." He soon brought his hand down and thrust the key towards the wall. Rather than crashing into and breaking the wall, it went straight through the structure. Soon turning the key and hearing a very familiar click.

A key-shaped hole began forming on the wall. Starting small where the key met the wall before expanding outwards till it was the size of a full-sized door before lighting up. Revealing a bright and luscious destination on the other side. A gentle cool breeze blew from the other side of the portal. Bringing the sweet smell of flowers with it. "Alright. In you go. Wanga, come pick Chrome up at the portal. I can't carry him anymore." He gave a small grunt as he once again, hooked his arms around Chrome's shoulders and dragged him towards the portal. Waiting to see Wanga before passing the vampire through the portal and to the garden's residing god.

"I can't believe you're making me carry this guy. If you can barely do it what makes you think I'll have an easier time?" Even with all of the god's complaining, he did do as told. He held onto the vamp as he carefully moved him further into the garden. However...there was a concerning unconscious body now present here. One that seemed to look exactly like Chrome. Even has a sort of tether connecting the two. "You know this guy, Vamp? Or...maybe it's just you actually."

With Chrome safely through the portal, he glanced back at the dragon. Waiting to see whether he was going to be coming or staying behind. "If you're coming, I'll help you through the portal." Was all he said to the other, awaiting his answer before crossing over himself.

---

Interactions: DSLIX (Chrome) || Nessi (Hagred)

Mentions: Beann (Kaida) || Worthlessplebian (Tiberius)

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

The gladiator did not remain by Enthyskana's side for long. Indeed, once their words were shared, he dashed back into the fray to do as he said; Assist Yī Nuò, Kai, and Kaida. Although one half of the enemy's forces were disorientated by their commanding officer's detainment—not without difficulty, the cutting words of Khatiy rang in his ears for a moment before fading—Parzival still held firm in his resistances thus his own warband remained gilded with determination. A determination that Tiberius sought to break upon his knee.

Muscles flaring with divine energy. In the long time of his imprisonment and recuperation, the gladiator had forgotten the potency of his synchronization. To be one with his God's power set his neurons aflame, his heartbeat pumped not just the sanguinary lifeblood but darkness itself, the man's limbs—down to the bone—throbbed with impossibly ancient fury as he stabbed, jabbed, and thrusted with his brass spear. He swept his half-shield wide. Sending three mongrel-beasts back, bodies flung through the air, arms snapping, neck breaking, heads caving. His path describing a jagged line through the snow towards Kai and Kaida. Soon, he would join their efforts to stave off the hordes while the rest battled to cleave the life from Parzival's vampiric corpse.

Tiberius returned to form, although beneath his impossible cloak, his body leaked a crimson-tinged darkness with each step, with each kill. In the distance, Polux had attracted his own view-party to their beast-kin's butchery. A slaughterous sight as the dark armoured giant dismissed the use of his mace and began to rend and tear their bodies with gauntlets alone. Hesitancy plagued their bodies as their animalistic minds struggled to reconcile instincts and orders. They glared at the giant forming a circle around him. Polux turned, surveying the despicable beasts before him. He spread his arms. Invitation and challenge. The carnage resumed.

Tiberius grabbed the spear half-way then swung right to left, its point splitting ribcages and intestines open. Relentless movement, dancing combat. Tiberius charged again, vaguely aware of the healer to his left and the multi-tailed vixen to his right. Their sounds of combat joining his own in righteous glory. The beasts wailed and hollered in pain around them. Then Tiberius' heart sank as he heard, through the thudding-clash of steel, the soft crunch of snow as Suzuki Kaida's body hit the ground. He turned and his floating shroud of stars followed suit. Ryushi's words were agony to his ears, but Tiberius realized before the spirit did, the dawning revelation came when he sensed Kaida's soul. Out of sight, but still within his senses. He presumed that the synchronization was responsible, he could feel the imprint, the indentation of Kaida's soul walking away from her body. He knew that this had been an ability of hers. A small modicum of peace quelled him.

He could not help it, he smiled at the prospect of what she plotted.

In the midst of chaos, Kai spoke to him. Dispatching another beast, he threw a look at their healer, the visor burned blue-hot. "Go!" He snapped, voice echoing several times, Kai's aquatic restraints allowed Tiberius to make short work of the beasts before them, Kai should know better, he need not justify himself before the gladiator.

Between him and Ryushi, Kaida's corporeal form would be in safe hands.

That is until infernal screams tore apart the sounds of battle. A horror unto itself, melting together into a bloodcurdling cacophony. "Prepare yourself." Qin's voice muted the torturing wails, inspiring a familiar calm within the gladiator as the skull overtook Tiberius' vision.

Choking. His throat was snatched by a thread cutting off air from his windpipe. He twisted and turned, scratched at his neck with his dulled, flat-nails. He experienced a gut-wrenching sense of dislocation as he was lifted up into the air then slammed against the wall of a confined room. His helmet connected to something unyielding—a wall, he thinks—darkness threatened to overtake him, but his vision cleared. The ringing of his helm did not though. A headache racked his skull from forehead to the occipital. He clutched his helmeted head with one hand. Recovering from the suddenness of it all. He found himself in a cramped room, that of a hovel or more likely, a tavern.

The noises came to him swiftly; of celebration and terror alike. He paced to the window, body still entangled with divinity. The madness outside proved to be as expected. Grey-plated knights massacring vampires, half-men, magicians and alchemists alike. As if they were simply vermin to be exterminated. "This is..." Tiberius began, closing his eyes to listen. Beyond the agony, beyond the death, his battle-honed senses told him the inescapable truth. "An echo?" He said, confusion etching his voice, he could've said a falsehood, but the pain of it felt too real, yet its age was apparent. Plus he opted to be correct by non-specificity.

He heard quick clapping resounding in his head. He leaned against the window as his Goddess voice filled his soul. "You're quite correct, Tibby. An excellent deduction." The lithe voice spoke, offering congratulations to the gladiator. "In the era of Solomon, a hero by the name of Walpurga ordered the massacre of those you see before you. A bloody affair, indeed, she was relentless in the pursuit." "A pogrom." "Yes." "Nacht, nacht, nacht. I know that word... It means night? Not one to remember, certainly." "Definitely not. You're all in danger now though, this is not simply a remnant of the past. The very air leeches your soul until like husks you become."

A noise came from behind, the creaking of a door then a crack as the wooden door was snapped off its metal hinges by a boot. A soldier, illusion or not, threatened him wordlessly. He charged with sword raised to cut him down. Tiberius recalled his spear, twisting it in his grip then ramming the butt of it to the soldier's stomach. The plate bent inwards, stabbing him in the stomach before Tiberius grabbed his gorget and defenestrated him out of the room.

"The task remains unchanged." Tiberius called before barreling through the window and landing on the streets below. His cape defying the movements again, contorting with a mind of its own against the sky. "Locate Parzival. Kill him."

"Sprint this." He told his allies.

His allies had been nearby, Kai in particular had been quick to act, becoming one half of his God to summon the entrance to a realm of verdant serenity, endlessly rife with life. Tiberius turned away from the peaceful realm. He bent his knees low, raising the shield in front of him. Again, his body leaked darkness, malformed. He shot out like a ballista bolt towards a group of soldiers. The temporal illusions brought their shields to bare, but buckled as a dozen were sent flying from the impact. A mass of metal and flesh turning, twisting in the air as they were scattered.

From the darkness, the gladiator leapt from body to shoulder to the air. Moving with celerity from the darkness. An umbral ennui gripped his soul, urging him to destroy them. Kill them all to the last man. Stain the flagstone with their bastard blood. But Tiberius resisted, his shadow Goddess placating the turmoil of his rage. Honing his fury into a lance at one sole foe; Parzival.


Interactions: The heroes;
Mentions: Bloody_Death (Kai)/(Grandmother Yī Nuò) Beann (Kaida/Ryushi)

 

[Nano]

Enthyskana Rhoda

Interactions: Tiberius ( Worthlessplebian ) | Khatiy ( Kibaa )

Mentions: Hargred ( Nessi ) | Aaxir ( LazyDaze )

Fīat iūstitia ruat cælum.

Enthy pursed her lips at Tiberius’s words, but she nonetheless answered him with a brief nod.

“I don't always understand or agree with the god of justice, but it's true that Hargred knows not the weight of his crimes. I am unsure if his nature is strong enough to overcome Tiryan’s ‘nurture’, but I’ll see to it that he understands the consequences of his past actions before any judgment is passed.”

At least, she hoped she—or anyone else for the matter—would succeed in doing so. Long ago, she too had once held a great fear and hatred for humanity, yet it was none other than her adoptive parents who were partly responsible for molding her into who she was today. She held no respect for a sorry excuse of a father who treated children like tools and sent them off to war, but the fact still remained that Hargred considered that man a parental figure. In the dragon’s eyes, Tiryan was likely a beacon to look up to and follow, no matter how much his ideals and actions defied the common sense and moral values of the general populace.

The pact Enthy proposed involved staking their lives on a promise not to harm the other, but she held no desire to utilize it to deprive Hargred of his autonomy. Its sole purpose was to provide a safety net so that the other heroes would be less resistant to potentially allowing an enemy to walk freely among them. And as if on cue, the first voice of opposition raised her blade to express her dissent.

Upon spotting the champion of Bastet approach, no doubt with the intention of finishing off the injured dragon herself, Enthy placed herself in the woman’s path. She kept alert, not fully trusting that Hargred wouldn’t do something now that her back was turned, but she still shielded him from the angry feline’s view.

“Stay your hand, Khatiy of Usaama. The rules of your land-“

...will not be the sole factor determining his fate.

Is what Enthy had intended on saying had she not been interrupted by Parzival’s shouting and Khatiy suddenly tripping over her own feet, an act rather uncharacteristic of Bastet’s hero. Fortunately, the thick blanket of snow had cushioned her fall, though it wouldn’t do to remain in that state for long lest her body lose too much heat to the icy bed below.

“This is no place to sleep!”

Enthy shouted, confusion overwriting any concern due to the unexpected nature of the situation. Though she hadn’t been keeping a close watch on the Usaaman’s condition, the woman hadn’t appeared so fatigued that she’d collapse, especially not when she had been energetic enough to bare her teeth at Hargred mere seconds ago. By the gods, had she fainted from anger?

“It is that royal vampire’s magic. Walpurgisnacht.”

Veritas suddenly spoke up, his voice no longer echoing with authority and instead replaced with a hint of exasperation.

“Your tendency to jump to rather rude conclusions is unbefitting of a child of Kalmar. Is that not the first thing they discipline out of you?”

Had Enthy been any less aware of the persistence of the god’s facial paralysis, she could almost imagine an eye roll accompanying the god’s words.

“Um, I’m not a knight, so…”

she said quietly before ultimately shutting her mouth. Defending herself against a stereotype wasn't important if the remaining beasts staring hungrily at the prone bodies of her comrades were anything to go by.

“Their souls have been pulled away into another plane. Make haste if you do not wish to see their lives leak away in this desolate land.”

Before Veritas had even finished his words, Enthy quickly turned backwards with the intent to first secure Hargred. A contract had yet to be signed, and she wouldn’t have the dragon potentially harming the heroes in their moment of vulnerability. However, the sole trace of Hargred she’d find were the spots of his blood that were still spreading onto the previously immaculate snow.

Had he escaped? No, she hadn’t felt the bindings of her spell break. But then why couldn’t she feel his presence?

The garbled howls of the nightmare beasts grew more incessant, and Enthy found herself forgetting about Hargred for the time being. With a quick leap, the young dragon darted forward as her bones grew and morphed and scaled flesh once again formed around them. A jaw full of razor sharp teeth snapped the unconscious Aaxir up by the back of his clothes (if there were any tears, she’d promise to mend them personally later) right as one of Tiryan’s abominations barreled into the patch of snow the dragon had collapsed upon. The ursine beast clumsily dug its feet into the ground and pedaled its forepaws sideways in an attempt to correct its position. However, its claws would never reach its intended target, as a thick tail soon slammed into its side and sent it crashing into three of its ilk that had been following closely behind it.

Recovering from the tail slam and flapping her wings to shoot forward in the opposite direction in one smooth turn, Enthy distanced herself from what remained of Hargred’s bestial army and moved swiftly towards the heroes who’d been fighting Parzival mere minutes prior. She snagged both Khatiy and Tiberius within clawed hands on the way, silently apologizing for the rough manner of handling them, though she’d snatched up the gladiator with just enough care as to not accidentally dislodge his helmet. As for the Khopesh of Amanirenas, Enthy wasn’t sure how and was vaguely impressed, but the Usaaman girl somehow managed to stubbornly keep the heavy blade tightly clenched within her hand.

The dragon placed her cargo near the fallen bodies of Fel and Nel and observed the earthen spikes and walls jutting precariously out of the ground. They were no doubt the work of Tiamat’s champion, and though the mercenary’s volatile and wild nature typically kept her on guard, she silently thanked Rohen for her assistance. It wasn’t perfect, but the defensive structures would make her job of defending the heroes until their spirits returned far easier.

The muscles of her hind legs rippled, and Enthy leapt up onto the tallest of the structures. Her wings flapped ominously, as if daring the vile creatures to get closer, and a bright light began gathering before her opened jaws. The magic circle pulsed with magical energy, gathering mana until the spell appeared on the brink of collapse. With a breath and a swing of her head, the dragon unleashed a large beam of energy at the horde of monsters. It swept from her left all the way to her right, melting the snow and scorching both the beasts as well as the earth hidden underneath the ice.

Despite knowing the battle wasn’t over yet, Enthy swooped down from her perch, opting to fight the rest of the monsters with their fangs against her claws. Each cast of that spell took too much energy, and it wouldn’t do to exhaust herself unnecessarily. Fortunately, much of the horde’s numbers had already been culled by the combined efforts of the heroes prior to being trapped by Parzival’s spell.

 

[OldTurtle]

Fel Petri

Interactions:

Mentions: Nel ( Dawnsx ) Khatiy ( Kibaa ) Parzival ( Nessi )

Fel cursed as Parzival burst into a large cloud of crows so black they seemed to drain the light from their surroundings. The flock scattered in every direction, each little bird narrowly avoiding both his and Nel's flames. Hardly a new trick from the old vampire, but still one he'd neglected to account for. The mage struggled to track their movements and found himself two steps behind when Parzival reformed behind the dancing hero. A crackling flame began to grow in his palm, dark and only half-formed by the time the Hand struck out with his long blade -- too slow, too slow, he was paying for his circuits' condition now. A faint sense of relief inflated his lungs as the little Fae held her own, trident against sword, four arms against two. He would never have heard the end of it from Ayao if she'd been bisected due to his oversight. Fel had to admit he might even have deserved it. Just a little.

Another band of nightmare beasts emerged from his left and swarmed him. Distracted from Parzival and Nel by their snapping, salivating jaws, Fel rolled to the right, caking his dark cloak and hair in pale snow. His newly-formed fireball exploded across one creature's lupine torso, incinerating its hair and searing the flesh underneath black. Another motion summoned a razor-sharp blade of wind that split two more into pieces, gory entrails slipping out from their open bellies like rancid, swollen sausages. The last lunged at Fel, seizing him by the hem of his cloak. He loosened its ties with one hand, letting it fall away from his shoulders and tangle between the beast's daggerlike claws. His assailant struggled to free itself from the woolen fabric and Fel brought the end of his staff down twice on the point where its skull met its spine. With a sickening crack, it fell still.

After a brief struggle with the corpse, Fel lifted his poor, abused cloak before him and with great dismay noted the long rent that left the bottom half connected to the top by only a few threads. What a great tragedy, he'd rather liked that mantle. The world, much like his goddess, clearly didn't appreciate his immeasurable grief and decided to warp at that moment.

The piercing screams hit Fel like a wall of sound, sending a sharp jolt of pain through his head that left him staggered. He gasped, the breath driven from his lungs, and leaned heavily against his staff. The sight of the snowy clearing, the countless cooling corpses of nightmare beasts, the towering pines, the brilliant sun above -- it all flickered and vanished. Fel stumbled again, falling to his knees as his surroundings twisted like a bottomless whirlpool until all he could see, hear, feel was the vision of a single skull growing larger and larger until it dominated the landscape. Was the landscape.

And then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the skull vanished. Fel clambered to his feet unsteadily, using his staff as a crutch. As his mind stabilized and he blinked the last few spots out of his vision, he found the world around him to be entirely transformed. Snow-covered earth had been replaced with smooth, paved paths, rows of trees with quaint, old-fashioned buildings, and blue skies with the inky, star-studded blackness of night. As fires raged, screams echoed between houses and throughout alleys, and blood painted the streets red, Fel knew at once that none of it was real. He could sense Parzival's magic eroding away at his exposed soul already, crashing waves against sheer limestone cliffs. A quick incantation birthed a weak, sputtering fire above Fel's palm. It flickered pitifully in the wind and winked out a moment later. The glistening moon hanging in the sky above seemed to mock him. False though it may be, its invisible shackles locked away much of his strength. An illusion that infinitely approached reality. Under different circumstances, Fel would've admired Parzival's handiwork. As it stood, he'd be content with killing the vampire and finally escaping to safer lands.

"An illusion," he agreed with Khatiy, shaking off the snow caking his boots. "And all the more dangerous for it. Wounds of the body are magnitudes easier to treat than those of the soul." He cast a glance around at the rest of the party as Kai vanished through the gate to Wanga's mythical garden with Chrome's pitiful form in tow -- really, he'd have thought the vampire's three functioning brain cells would've advised him against coating himself in blood for a second time -- as well as... Hargred? Was that really Tiryan's Hand? Why was he even here? Fel shook his head and shelved that concern for a later time.

A burst of wind lifted the mage off his feet and into the air, alighting on a nearby rooftop. From his new perspective, he could see the full extent of the rampage across the city. Countless knights stomped through the streets, cutting down those too slow or too weak to escape their blades.

Saint Walpurga...

Fel had heard of her tale, of course, but the events of that notorious night were far before his time. Frankly, he'd thought no living mortal had borne witness to the tragedy -- at least, none he'd ever meet. But if Parzival had seen this massacre, lived through it... then it would certainly explain his absurd alignment with Tiryan. A long-standing, well-justified hatred of heroes that burned through the centuries. The sight of the cruel murders almost evoked a sense of empathy in even Fel.

Almost.

But the events of that night had concluded long ago. These visions were nothing more than a well-crafted specter of the past. Those responsible for these people's pain had long vanished into the annals of infamy. Parzival may have still been trapped in his memories, but past tragedies in no way justified present atrocities. Looking out at it all now, Fel was filled by a profound sense of annoyance.

"Really?" He asked the air. "Your final move, your magnum opus, is just you trying to unload all your trauma on us? How disappointingly pathetic."

Fel decided Parzival would have to die for that crime. The vampire had already been consigned to death for countless others, but that was the one that really sealed the deal. He took off across the rooftop, boots rattling the tiles as he approached the gap between buildings -- and launched himself across it with another burst of wind. Several tiles shattered underfoot as Fel landed, then continued to run. In the streets below, Tiberius cut his way through swaths of soldiers. But why waste his precious time cutting down illusions with weakened magic when he could simply... not?

 

[LazyDaze]

AAXIR THE RED

Interactions: Nano Worthlessplebian
Mentions: Kibaa

Admittedly, the aerial battle between dragons felt more like an impossible puzzle than it did a death match despite the fact that his opponent was extremely dangerous. Being on the defensive was not something Aaxir was particularly fond of and he realized it was only a matter of time before Hargred would eventually get the better of them if they didn't force the issue soon. Perhaps a part of him wanted to believe that Hargred was simply misguided; however, Aaxir wasn't so soft as spare the enemy, dragon or not. In fact, it was primarly his respect for Enthy that helped dull his fangs. That said, Aaxir realized that they could not go on like this. As if the heavens could hear his thoughts, arrows decended from the sky like a sea of shooting stars sent to dole out judgement to all bound to the mortal plane. Aaxir's eyes widened from his initial shock, believing that yet another enemy had arrived on the battlefield, but as the arrows passed him by to fell his enemies he quickly realized who was responsible. (Hero) It couldn't have come at a better time. The fallen stars streaked through the sky, replacing the deadly storm as Hargred fell in defeat. Of course, Enthy followed right after him which in turn caused Aaxir to do the same. Aaxir didn't say anything. He watched, waiting for the powerful dragon to give him a reason to incinerate him once and for all. The more he spoke, the more Aaxir realized-

"Wait...how old is he," Aaxir said to himself with a tinge of nervousness. Hargred spoke with the naivety of a dragon barely entering his 30s yet the power he commanded rivaled even some of the elders Aaxir had come across during his relatively short time on the planet. That potential fact made the Hand all the more terrifying. It also seemed to add clarification as to what might have been transpiring behind the scenes. Seeing this mountain of potential call Tiryan his father, shake with fear, and accept defeat in spite of that fear was....almost infuriating honestly. Aaxir had half a mind to scold him. To think the great Hargred just might be a very misguided child left Aaxir stupefied. That said, this is a battlefield. It's a place where the lines between good and evil are blurred since everyone is fighting for their own beliefs. Theoretically, you could sympathize with many of those felled by your hands, but it is not a place where those emotions are always rewarded. Aaxir was content to leave the talking to Enthy since the battle wasn't over. The only thing Aaxir did was shoot the powerful dragon a sympathetic glance. He knew all to well the horrors of the world. If there was anything to say to Hargred, Aaxir could wait until the battle ended. "So you're babysitting..." Aaxir said to Enthy while Tiberius also moved to say something to Hargred. The group would be interrupted by Khatiy and subsequently Parzival before Aaxir could react to anything. All Aaxir heard was a horrifying screech before he became completely disoriented after what he could only describe as a jolt went through his body and brought him to his knees. He had just barely saw the attack before sucucmbing to his effects; moreover, that might have contributed to such a jarring shift as he had no idea what had transpired up unto this point. Despite the world seemingly spinning around him, Aaxir quickly realized Enthy was missing.

"Enthy...," Aaxir started as he looked aaround. "She was right next...Enthy! Damn it..."

"My, my marvelous choice I have to say," Pele interjected.

"Choice...What is this?"

"That Parsnip fellow...the vampire with the dramatic flair who knocked away your fire pebbles. This is his world, or rather, a play he wanted to show you all personally."

"Let it go...So what are you saying? That this is all in our heads," Aaxir said while standing to his feet and crushing a rock with his bare hand. He opened his palm to allow the dust to whisp away into space acknowledging the realism of an illusion. This was hell. Screams, moans of agony, and self righteous words of glory stung Aaxir's ears. Yi Nuo explained that this was an illusion of the past and the dangers that it presented to the heroes. As irrational as it might have been, Aaxir couldn't help but want to fight against the "Saint" at this very moment. Tiberus' entrance along with his words woke him up as he realized before he really took in Yi Nuo's words. They had to make haste, but where was Parizval? The center of the city was fairly vague and the longer it took to search for him the worse it would be.

"Are you finally done holding back?"

"......Yeah"

"....Kill them 100 times over," Pele said with a sinister smile.

"1000," Aaxir growled.


With a mighty roar Aaxir entered his partial synchronization while gathering large amounts of mana. Just as Yi Nuo held of the soldiers, Aaxir would trust his comrades by creating a more direct root to Parzival and hopefully flush him out. He noticed Khatiy attempting to sniff him out and used her to garner a sense of his general direction. With her help, Aaxir knew where he would take his aim. It would be a gamble, but time was not on their side. "Tiberius you wanted a sprint right? Start running!" The ground beneath Aaxir began to roil and bubble until it complemented the hell that was around them until finally.. "Incinerate!"

Aaxir stabbed the earth with his mighty shard, releasing the mana he had charged. Initially, there was silence. Then the earth began to rumble and small fissures formed before being completely ruptured by a wave of large explosive magmatic explosions that incinerated everything in its path toward the center of the city. Indiscriminate destruction and devastation carved it's way toward the center of the city before culminating in a final eruption. Aaxir used to last bits of his power to cool the magma as much as he could so that the heroes could follow the blazing path. Aaxir then fell to his knees once more, his ears ringing as the urge to hurl took over him. Needless to say, he faded out of synchronization while laughing off his condition. He had to acknowledge that their was still a struggle to completely control his power. For now, it would have to be good enough. It was up to everyone else to stop Parzival once and for all. "I might have overdone that one.......finish it."

 

[Nessi]

Eleanor

Eleanor’s ears still rang from the blood curdling scream that occured when Parzival had revealed his trump card. One moment, she was cutting down nightmare beasts left and right, trying to keep them off of the group as they dealt with the vampire. But now, Eleanor stood within a burning city of the past, watching as people were murdered in cold blood, while humans and elves alike laughed and danced throughout the streets. When given an explanation on what was going on, the young swordswoman felt her stomach flip, and a sudden fit of nausea came over her.
“You mean to tell me…a hero did this? We’re supposed to protect the people…this is just…horrible.” Eleanor muttered to herself.
“It is horrible, but you must focus. The longer you stay here, the weaker your spirit will get, until you fizzle out like a candle.” Paimon warned.
Eleanor knew Paimon was right, she had to move with everyone else in order to get to Parzival, but her body was frozen. She stared at the body of a child, one whose body had been impaled by a flagpole.
“This…Saint Walpurga…She was no hero, nor a saint. She was a monster, I hope her death was painful.” Eleanor growled, before turning to join her fellow heroes.

Eleanor utilized the path that had been created by Aaxir, and made her way towards Parzival.
“After seeing all of this Paimon…I can’t help but feel horrible for Parzival…to live through such an event is just…” Eleanor paused, not sure how to properly express her feelings towards the current situation.
“Walpurgisnacht is a night of horrors, a tragedy that would warp anyones sense of reality as a survivor. However, we cannot focus on a past that we cannot change, what we can do is use this as a reminder of how easy it is to allow your dark intentions to take over, especially when given unimaginable power.” Paimon spoke, his voice unwavering despite the chaos surrounding his champion.
Eleanor nodded in agreement, and continued to run towards the city center. She had decided that the best thing for Parzival would be to simply put him to rest, to allow the old vampire eternal peace. But the closer she got to the city center, the quieter the chaos got, until the only sound that could be heard was the roaring of fire in the distance
Eventually, Eleanor would reach the city center, which was the remnants of a marketplace, almost all the stalls being fully destroyed and lit on fire. Parzival stood near the center of the marketplace, his back turned to the heroes. While Eleanor wanted to take the opportunity to simply strike the vampire down, she refrained, and gestured for the other heroes to do the same. Parzival was not stupid nor sloppy, he’d never stand out in the open unless he knew there was no way for something to harm him.

After a few moments of waiting, the sound of footsteps could be heard, and from the shadows, a pair would appear, the sight causing Eleanor’s eyes to widen. Though he looked completely different, with his hair short and sporting a single braid, one of the figures was without a doubt Parzival, who seemed to be heavily injured. The other figure was a tall vampire with long, black hair, and a tattoo that was on the left side of her face.
Eleanor couldn’t recognize the other vampire, but could immediately notice that the cloak of feathers she wore, and the blade at her side, were both the things that Parzival himself used in combat.

“Fala, you must leave me behind! As it stands, I’m merely dead weight!” Young Parzival hissed.
“I will not leave you behind. You are…you are my beloved Parzival, I’d rather die, than live out the rest of my days in a world where I am not by your side.” Fala responded.
Before young Parzival could respond, a myriad of bright projectiles would fly towards the duo from the same way they had entered the marketplace.
Fala was quick, and used her freehand to draw her blade, and deflect the incoming projectiles.
“Parzival, hide yourself! When you find an opportunity to run, move as fast as possible, I’ll shake the witch off, and find you afterwards!” Fala said urgently.
Parzival opened his mouth to protest, but found himself quickly silenced by a kiss from Fala. Before he could return the gesture, she pushed him away, and gestured for him to hide among the rubble, which he begrudgingly obliged to.

“As the darkness spread across the land, those true to her good name held their hands in prayer, for their faith in her is what protected them from the horrors of the night.” a gravelly voice called out.
Fala’s body grew tense as yet another figure appeared from the darkness. There was no need for an announcement, or an explanation from anyone, everyone watching knew that the blonde woman that stood before Fala was Saint Walpurga, her white armor, sword, and shield covered in blood. “You damn witch…have you no remorse for what you are doing!? Innocent people are dying, and your city will be ash by morning!” Fala yelled.
“Those half breeds were born from the minions of that dark being slayed by Lord Solomon, they are abominations that should be wiped out to fully rid the world of his presence.” Walpurga said, her face void of any emotion. “And if I recall correctly, it was your people who caused the birth of the crimson demon, eradicating your kind to prevent this from happening again is a logical solution. Witches, Mages, Alchemists, they are like a disease, spreading ideas like wildfire, they must be dealt with as well. My city may burn to ash by the morning, but we will rebuild stronger than ever, in a country free of corruption and evil.” Walpurga finished.

Fala stared at the Saint for a long time, before drawing her sword once more. “You’ve gone mad, your mind is clouded by a dream that cannot be achieved in this way.” she growled, taking a fighting stance.
“I am a servant of my goddess, Astraea. She demands that I rid this country of the impure, and I shall do as I am commanded!” Walpurga shouted zealously.
Fala dashed at the mad hero, her sword clashing against the saint's shield.
Walpurga countered, pushing Fala back with her shield, but the vampire didn’t let up, immediately dashing back in. As the fight continued, Fala’s speed, and striking strength began to rise, as winds began to violently surge under her feet and around her blade. Eventually, even Walpurga would begin to feel overwhelmed, backpedaling as she tried to look for an opening.
Once more, Walpurga used her shield to launch Fala backwards, but in the blink of an eye, Fala had already closed the gap, and was ready to pounce on the mad hero.
Walpurga quickly brought her sword down upon the vampire, but had only slashed at an afterimage! Fala was already behind Walpurga, and with a swift attack, drove her blade right through Walpurga’s heart.

Everything was quiet for a moment, the only sound being made was Fala’s labored breaths.
“An impressive technique indeed, Fala. I will admit, my eyes could not keep track of you, and had I been but a regular foe, I would have surely fallen.” Walpurga congratulated. Before Fala could retreat, the mad saint grabbed her, and slammed the poor vampire into the ground.
“However, it would take more than that to kill someone with faith!” Walpurga roared, pulling the sword out of her heart. A golden fire engulfed her, and what emerged was a blazing angel, armed with a spear, and 2 massive, pure white wings. She grabbed Fala again, and threw her into a building, following up the attack by throwing her spear, impaling Fala against a wall through the stomach. “Even if your race is despicable, you fought with bravery and honor, I shall grant you a quick death.” Walpurga commanded, advancing towards Fala with a blade made of pure light.
“Stop!” Young Parzival yelled, causing Walpurga to stop her advance. He could hear Fala roaring in protest, but he ignored her. “Walpurga, please spare her! It’s me, Parzival! We fought together, time and time again, against the crimson king!” He yelled, trying his best to ignore the burning pain from just injuries. “You know me! You know you can trust me, because if I wanted to spread corruption, I would have stabbed you in the back long ago! Fala is not a threat to the future you wish to cultivate, so please…please, let her go!” Young Parzival pleaded.
Walpurga stared at Parzival for a long time, but it would be Fala who broke the silence.
“You wretched fool…It doesn't matter who we are, she would have never spared me no matter what you said.” Fala uttered. The moment she stopped speaking, Walpurga thrusted her blade of light out, and stabbed Fala’s heart, the vampire turning completely to ash in mere moments. All that was left was a skeleton, Fala's cloak and sword, and a gray jewel that clinked on the ground.

Young Parzival fell to his knees, tears silently rolling down his face as Fala’s ashes blew past him. Walpurga turned to him, and stared for a long time, as if she was having an entire conversation in her head.
“Praise Astraea, for she is merciful. You have been spared.” she said, before flying off into the distance.


“What is one to do, after having to live with something like this?” Parzival inquired, his voice quivering as his back was still turned on the heroes. “How could I simply forgive, and forget what has been done to me, what has been done to those like me. Do you think the violence ended here? That once Walpurga was gone, that everything for vampires was fine?” Parzival growled, his body shaking with anger. “It never ended, it never left, nor did it become better overtime! Over the hundreds of years since the death of the crimson king, not once have you all looked at yourself and said “no, we won’t behave like animals! We’ll be civilized and cease the barbaric treatment of vampires!” you simply allowed it to happen! When vampires begged the so-called heroes from the past to help them, they were turned away at the gates!” Parzival roared. A sphere of black fire formed above Parzival, and he whipped around, revealing that half of his face was gone, his skull being what was left. “You are not righteous, you are not heroes. You say that I blind myself to the ply of the people, but what have those people done for me? They hunted us, murdered us, cheered for our deaths, and now I will hunt them.” Parzival shouted, a shockwave causing the ground to rumble.

Eleanor was the first to charge in after regaining her footing, and was met with fiery projectiles being shot at her. The young swordswoman dodged the projectiles effortlessly via her enlightened eyes, and brought her blade down on Parzival after closing the gap. To Eleanor’s surprise, her blade was caught by a gray barrier, and soon after, she was blasted backward, being returned roughly to where she was started.
From the rooftop, a familiar moon elf would come rushing over, jumping from said roof to face Parzival. “Baihu, Eat!” Yi Nuo called out, and without skipping a beat, a massive ethereal version of Baihu chomped down on Parzival’s barrier.
The Royal vampire roared in defiance as he continued to keep the barrier up against the white tigers attack.
“Eleanor, we need to use a more precise attack in order to get through that barrier, can you think of something?” Paimon asked.
Eleanor took a few moments to think and nodded in response before activating her empyrean armament on her sword.
Parzival dispelled Baihu, but by the time he had focused back on the rest of the heroes, Eleanor had again closed the gap between the two, her blade glowing a bright, golden color. With both of her hands clutching her sword, Eleanor thrusted her sword towards Parzival. Like before, her blade was caught against the barrier, but after a few moments, the barrier would begin to crack, and then shortly after, it completely shattered.
Parzival let out a rather surprised noise, but quickly blasted Eleanor backwards into a nearby building. “You are all merely vermin, who will be exterminated!” Parzival roared, taking to the skies to float above the heroes. The sphere of black flames turned into rings, and from them came forth beams of fire that resembled winding dragons, that destroyed whatever they touched.
“Oi! His barrier is gone! Go ahead and take him out, before we all die!” Eleanor cried out from the rubble.

 

[CasualTea]

Eleanor

Eleanor’s ears still rang from the blood curdling scream that occured when Parzival had revealed his trump card. One moment, she was cutting down nightmare beasts left and right, trying to keep them off of the group as they dealt with the vampire. But now, Eleanor stood within a burning city of the past, watching as people were murdered in cold blood, while humans and elves alike laughed and danced throughout the streets. When given an explanation on what was going on, the young swordswoman felt her stomach flip, and a sudden fit of nausea came over her.
“You mean to tell me…a hero did this? We’re supposed to protect the people…this is just…horrible.” Eleanor muttered to herself.
“It is horrible, but you must focus. The longer you stay here, the weaker your spirit will get, until you fizzle out like a candle.” Paimon warned.
Eleanor knew Paimon was right, she had to move with everyone else in order to get to Parzival, but her body was frozen. She stared at the body of a child, one whose body had been impaled by a flagpole.
“This…Saint Walpurga…She was no hero, nor a saint. She was a monster, I hope her death was painful.” Eleanor growled, before turning to join her fellow heroes.

Eleanor utilized the path that had been created by Aaxir, and made her way towards Parzival.
“After seeing all of this Paimon…I can’t help but feel horrible for Parzival…to live through such an event is just…” Eleanor paused, not sure how to properly express her feelings towards the current situation.
“Walpurgisnacht is a night of horrors, a tragedy that would warp anyones sense of reality as a survivor. However, we cannot focus on a past that we cannot change, what we can do is use this as a reminder of how easy it is to allow your dark intentions to take over, especially when given unimaginable power.” Paimon spoke, his voice unwavering despite the chaos surrounding his champion.
Eleanor nodded in agreement, and continued to run towards the city center. She had decided that the best thing for Parzival would be to simply put him to rest, to allow the old vampire eternal peace. But the closer she got to the city center, the quieter the chaos got, until the only sound that could be heard was the roaring of fire in the distance
Eventually, Eleanor would reach the city center, which was the remnants of a marketplace, almost all the stalls being fully destroyed and lit on fire. Parzival stood near the center of the marketplace, his back turned to the heroes. While Eleanor wanted to take the opportunity to simply strike the vampire down, she refrained, and gestured for the other heroes to do the same. Parzival was not stupid nor sloppy, he’d never stand out in the open unless he knew there was no way for something to harm him.

After a few moments of waiting, the sound of footsteps could be heard, and from the shadows, a pair would appear, the sight causing Eleanor’s eyes to widen. Though he looked completely different, with his hair short and sporting a single braid, one of the figures was without a doubt Parzival, who seemed to be heavily injured. The other figure was a tall vampire with long, black hair, and a tattoo that was on the left side of her face.
Eleanor couldn’t recognize the other vampire, but could immediately notice that the cloak of feathers she wore, and the blade at her side, were both the things that Parzival himself used in combat.

“Fala, you must leave me behind! As it stands, I’m merely dead weight!” Young Parzival hissed.
“I will not leave you behind. You are…you are my beloved Parzival, I’d rather die, than live out the rest of my days in a world where I am not by your side.” Fala responded.
Before young Parzival could respond, a myriad of bright projectiles would fly towards the duo from the same way they had entered the marketplace.
Fala was quick, and used her freehand to draw her blade, and deflect the incoming projectiles.
“Parzival, hide yourself! When you find an opportunity to run, move as fast as possible, I’ll shake the witch off, and find you afterwards!” Fala said urgently.
Parzival opened his mouth to protest, but found himself quickly silenced by a kiss from Fala. Before he could return the gesture, she pushed him away, and gestured for him to hide among the rubble, which he begrudgingly obliged to.

“As the darkness spread across the land, those true to her good name held their hands in prayer, for their faith in her is what protected them from the horrors of the night.” a gravelly voice called out.
Fala’s body grew tense as yet another figure appeared from the darkness. There was no need for an announcement, or an explanation from anyone, everyone watching knew that the blonde woman that stood before Fala was Saint Walpurga, her white armor, sword, and shield covered in blood. “You damn witch…have you no remorse for what you are doing!? Innocent people are dying, and your city will be ash by morning!” Fala yelled.
“Those half breeds were born from the minions of that dark being slayed by Lord Solomon, they are abominations that should be wiped out to fully rid the world of his presence.” Walpurga said, her face void of any emotion. “And if I recall correctly, it was your people who caused the birth of the crimson demon, eradicating your kind to prevent this from happening again is a logical solution. Witches, Mages, Alchemists, they are like a disease, spreading ideas like wildfire, they must be dealt with as well. My city may burn to ash by the morning, but we will rebuild stronger than ever, in a country free of corruption and evil.” Walpurga finished.

Fala stared at the Saint for a long time, before drawing her sword once more. “You’ve gone mad, your mind is clouded by a dream that cannot be achieved in this way.” she growled, taking a fighting stance.
“I am a servant of my goddess, Astraea. She demands that I rid this country of the impure, and I shall do as I am commanded!” Walpurga shouted zealously.
Fala dashed at the mad hero, her sword clashing against the saint's shield.
Walpurga countered, pushing Fala back with her shield, but the vampire didn’t let up, immediately dashing back in. As the fight continued, Fala’s speed, and striking strength began to rise, as winds began to violently surge under her feet and around her blade. Eventually, even Walpurga would begin to feel overwhelmed, backpedaling as she tried to look for an opening.
Once more, Walpurga used her shield to launch Fala backwards, but in the blink of an eye, Fala had already closed the gap, and was ready to pounce on the mad hero.
Walpurga quickly brought her sword down upon the vampire, but had only slashed at an afterimage! Fala was already behind Walpurga, and with a swift attack, drove her blade right through Walpurga’s heart.

Everything was quiet for a moment, the only sound being made was Fala’s labored breaths.
“An impressive technique indeed, Fala. I will admit, my eyes could not keep track of you, and had I been but a regular foe, I would have surely fallen.” Walpurga congratulated. Before Fala could retreat, the mad saint grabbed her, and slammed the poor vampire into the ground.
“However, it would take more than that to kill someone with faith!” Walpurga roared, pulling the sword out of her heart. A golden fire engulfed her, and what emerged was a blazing angel, armed with a spear, and 2 massive, pure white wings. She grabbed Fala again, and threw her into a building, following up the attack by throwing her spear, impaling Fala against a wall through the stomach. “Even if your race is despicable, you fought with bravery and honor, I shall grant you a quick death.” Walpurga commanded, advancing towards Fala with a blade made of pure light.
“Stop!” Young Parzival yelled, causing Walpurga to stop her advance. He could hear Fala roaring in protest, but he ignored her. “Walpurga, please spare her! It’s me, Parzival! We fought together, time and time again, against the crimson king!” He yelled, trying his best to ignore the burning pain from just injuries. “You know me! You know you can trust me, because if I wanted to spread corruption, I would have stabbed you in the back long ago! Fala is not a threat to the future you wish to cultivate, so please…please, let her go!” Young Parzival pleaded.
Walpurga stared at Parzival for a long time, but it would be Fala who broke the silence.
“You wretched fool…It doesn't matter who we are, she would have never spared me no matter what you said.” Fala uttered. The moment she stopped speaking, Walpurga thrusted her blade of light out, and stabbed Fala’s heart, the vampire turning completely to ash in mere moments. All that was left was a skeleton, Fala's cloak and sword, and a gray jewel that clinked on the ground.

Young Parzival fell to his knees, tears silently rolling down his face as Fala’s ashes blew past him. Walpurga turned to him, and stared for a long time, as if she was having an entire conversation in her head.
“Praise Astraea, for she is merciful. You have been spared.” she said, before flying off into the distance.


“What is one to do, after having to live with something like this?” Parzival inquired, his voice quivering as his back was still turned on the heroes. “How could I simply forgive, and forget what has been done to me, what has been done to those like me. Do you think the violence ended here? That once Walpurga was gone, that everything for vampires was fine?” Parzival growled, his body shaking with anger. “It never ended, it never left, nor did it become better overtime! Over the hundreds of years since the death of the crimson king, not once have you all looked at yourself and said “no, we won’t behave like animals! We’ll be civilized and cease the barbaric treatment of vampires!” you simply allowed it to happen! When vampires begged the so-called heroes from the past to help them, they were turned away at the gates!” Parzival roared. A sphere of black fire formed above Parzival, and he whipped around, revealing that half of his face was gone, his skull being what was left. “You are not righteous, you are not heroes. You say that I blind myself to the ply of the people, but what have those people done for me? They hunted us, murdered us, cheered for our deaths, and now I will hunt them.” Parzival shouted, a shockwave causing the ground to rumble.

Eleanor was the first to charge in after regaining her footing, and was met with fiery projectiles being shot at her. The young swordswoman dodged the projectiles effortlessly via her enlightened eyes, and brought her blade down on Parzival after closing the gap. To Eleanor’s surprise, her blade was caught by a gray barrier, and soon after, she was blasted backward, being returned roughly to where she was started.
From the rooftop, a familiar moon elf would come rushing over, jumping from said roof to face Parzival. “Baihu, Eat!” Yi Nuo called out, and without skipping a beat, a massive ethereal version of Baihu chomped down on Parzival’s barrier.
The Royal vampire roared in defiance as he continued to keep the barrier up against the white tigers attack.
“Eleanor, we need to use a more precise attack in order to get through that barrier, can you think of something?” Paimon asked.
Eleanor took a few moments to think and nodded in response before activating her empyrean armament on her sword.
Parzival dispelled Baihu, but by the time he had focused back on the rest of the heroes, Eleanor had again closed the gap between the two, her blade glowing a bright, golden color. With both of her hands clutching her sword, Eleanor thrusted her sword towards Parzival. Like before, her blade was caught against the barrier, but after a few moments, the barrier would begin to crack, and then shortly after, it completely shattered.
Parzival let out a rather surprised noise, but quickly blasted Eleanor backwards into a nearby building. “You are all merely vermin, who will be exterminated!” Parzival roared, taking to the skies to float above the heroes. The sphere of black flames turned into rings, and from them came forth beams of fire that resembled winding dragons, that destroyed whatever they touched.
“Oi! His barrier is gone! Go ahead and take him out, before we all die!” Eleanor cried out from the rubble.

A flurry of another volley of water daggers were thrown, but they seemed more precise and in control. Rohen was quick to act as soon as Eleanor gave the order and was charging head on with her weapons in hand. Even with the shock wave caused from Parzival and the ground rumbling, she still kept her footing due to her experience with being at sea. She's used to unstable ground. Add it on top of her geomancy with Tiamat's blessing, she's no stranger to quakes.

Before when they were traversing through the illusion and finally stopping upon the theatrics in front of them, Rohen still felt sympathy towards the vampire and his reasons for aligning with someone like Tiryan. But when she heard his resolve, her thoughts changed. She was infuriated. That was the reason? Because the heroes of the past refused their refuge, he would target civilians instead?

"What a pile of dog shit!" She said swinging her machete up in front of her and creating a water blade that race towards Parzival, digging up the dirt and any obstacle in its path. "You're only adding onto the problem, you should've went for the source! That being the bat shit psychopath you fought with, un-fucking-less you were weak to confront her because she was your ally?!!" She raged before sheathing her machete and forming two water bladed spears. "I hope when you die, you'll meet Death itself." She growled. "He'll eat your soul, shit it out and use it to smother your fucking girlfriend to death. Let me take you to him and I'll arrange an appointment with that broad you pathetically pleaded to and you can sort it out yourselves."

She then swung both her spears forth, one after the other letting loose a tight cluster of water daggers before pushing against the ground and launching herself forth to follow. Her flintlock was holstered, waiting to be drawn to offer its one and only shot as a parting gift from Rohen, to Parzival.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

Chaos. Pure, unrefined chaos. An out-and-out riot of monstrous proportions, it far surpassed the gladiator revolt that once unfolded before Tiberius' eyes. The streets were flooded, a churning mass of bodies in constant motion, framed by the disharmonious sounds of suffering. Shrieks, wails, screams too long or too short flooded his weary ears. The air was coppery, bitter. The fresh stench of spilled blood mixed with the sulphuric pluming of the pyres. The helmeted head angled up as the shadow sprite slipped past the mem-fragment soldiers. Tiberius saw thick, shifting columns of black smoke stretching up past the roofs like spindly fingers of a massive palm. To his left, a mother cradling a daughter are hacked apart with swords and battle axes. Her arm flops before his foot. He grinds his teeth, trying to ignore these mirages. An alchemical store is lit blaze, a technicolour inferno from all the ingredients, potions, and mystical artifacts. The hungry fire of purification drowning out the screams of the shopkeeper, then the last breath left his lungs. The azure eye twitched, lobbing electric blue sparks from the visor-slit. It was then that Tiberius heard his name called, followed by the smell of molten rock, and the grisly cracking of stone. He turned his head half-way, only to spot a tidal wave of melting granite toward him, it was Aaxir. He snarled his discontent, then leapt off the cliff-like shoulders of a knight and plunging his spear into the masonry of a building.

Watching the molten mass make short-work of their obstacle, Tiberius rotated his shoulders and propelled off to continue the dash towards the city centre, wherein he suspects Parzival would be discovered. Making his way towards the centre, the quieter and quieter it got. It was as shocking as their sudden arrival. The celestial tapestry that hung off his shoulders spread like eagle wings as he soared through the air, before falling into a roll as he hit the ground. He approached the foot of a market place, stalls smashed and lit, marching forward, his gait sharp and determined. Parzival with his back turned to them, Tiberius had raised the spear above his head, pulling his right-side back to throw it. Only for Eleanor's gesture to stop him. He shifted his head, glaring at her questioningly. The sparking visor judging her. He decided to humour this little sordid affair, regardless of how the well-considered precautions the lap-dog undertook. The butt of the spear stabbed the ground as Tiberius shifted his flaming gaze towards the scene before him, reshaping in front of his very eyes. Tiberius clenched his spear's haft, the brass-coated digits of his gauntlet clinked.

The shuffle of footsteps was first heard then appeared two figures. A woman assisting the injured form of a young man. She was slender, tall and long hair as black as charcoal. As subtle as an eye-gouging session with a pair of rusty forceps, Tiberius identified the characteristic cloak of crow feathers and sword that ordinarily belonged to Parzival. As clear as the setting sun on a shore, this woman held incredible significance for the vampire.

He watched the maudlin drama unfold, resting the spear against his collarbone. Observing it as though it were a tragedy played out by actors in an Olrodian theatre. Then the noise of a gravelly voice reciting a pitiful passage, pacing past the darkness, drearily. He could feel Qin rolling her eyes, revealing the celestial formations in her sclera. They clashed, two foes with unbridled fury in their hearts, blade against blade, mettle against mettle. One fought for extermination, the other for survival. The air between them sparked with their clash until it all seemed to end. That was not the case. As Walpurga only unveiled, what Tiberius could assume, was her divine synchronization with her Deity. And Parzival's wretched outcry for peace, pleading on his knees for mercy, sweet mercy from the former ally-now-turned-executioner. The gladiator shook his head slowly. Then Fala's body came undone, vampiric flesh flaking away to dust, the only remains were her skeleton, cloak, sword, and grey-jeweled memento clinking to the ground.

Then Parzival's quivering voice reached his ears. The scene behind him depicting his survival by Walpurga's sparring, he spoke of agony, of persecution, of hubris. Tiberius had just enough time to appreciate the irony before the shockwave hit him. It was like being rammed by a rhinoceros. Tiberius wobbled, his body loose bent and endured the crushing force without falling. Eleanor charged in immediately, only to be rebounded by a gray barrier, and back to her original position. The gladiator pivoted then distanced himself for a better vantage. He scaled the side of a building, using the windows as rungs for his ascent. He vaulted over the roof's parapet, overlooking the fight. He stepped one foot on the edge, carefully observing the moment.

Then an ethereal Baihu chomped down on Parizval's protective sphere and with the timely assistance of Eleanor's golden blade, shattered the vestiges of the Royal Vampire's bulwark. And predictably, Parzival howled, bellowed with unkempt anger. Tiberius sighed as he raised his spear again as before, he brought his shield up to gauge the distance. He threw his right-side back then launched the brilliant spear, gleaming sapphire bleeding darkness as it traveled.

It is not his last assault, however, Tiberius would make sure of that. His body dissolved, or appeared as such, in a pool of hard shadows. It slithered away into the furthest, blackest corners. The cold darkness unburdened by the heft or idea of gravity cannoned towards the floating Parzival, snaking, winding through the dragons. There never was a sound. Never. Not as the spear flies, a missile fletched by penumbra, and not as Tiberius manifested. He showed him then, Tiberius did. Beneath the infectious, outwardly joy. Further down than the obfuscated wrath that burned white-hot each battle, that was chained by discipline. There had been a chasm, Brobdingnagian in scope, empty and dark. A dagger-edged, bedrock-deep hardness. Parzival should realize what stared at him, it was not the hatred that rested in his or Walpurga's hearts. Instead a void that resisted it all, implacable in its pursuit, a silent infuriating thing. Blind to everything, but itself — solipsistic. All-consuming. In Walpurga's madness, there had been logic behind her motives. Not this, this was devoid of everything, but a simple task, a simple duty. Utterly soul-dead, utterly fanatical, utterly unyielding.

The star-cloak, which hugged the gladiator's body tightly until then, parted. Under its folds, Tiberius drew a blade. It was his spatha, reforged in a new image, a weapon utterly bleak and black. He raised the spatha above his head. It was blacker than the nightsky stars and flames above them, light-devouring like a ravenous beast, the perfect obsidian. There would be no relish in the kill, no honour, and no passion. The rest of his companions would yell, holler at his death, Rohen certainly did, but again, nothing from Tiberius. He was uncompromising, no grain of pity, no speck of remorse. The spatha hurled at him with incomprehensible weight, blinding speed, so magnificent in its nihilism that even Qin shuddered at the display.

Apathy.


Interactions: Nessi (Parzival)
Mentions: CasualTea (Rohen)

 

[Dawnsx]

Nelumba

When the pressure on the Trishula abruptly disappeared, Nel yelped and tipped forward, face-planting firmly into the snow beneath her. As she scrambled with her six limbs to get up and away from Parzival, a fleeting image of herself as a colorful beetle frantically trying to crawl away from an incoming foot popped into her mind.

And then: heat.

Oh, and somehow she was standing upright again…? But that couldn’t be right! She’d just been freezing her buns off a moment ago with the slush on the ground soaking through her dress!

”Look around, you little idiot,” Shiva groused.

And look she did, and she covered her mouth with a shocked gasp at the hellish scene unfolding before her. All around, people being slaughtered. The ones who escaped an immediate death writhed on the ground, quietly begging for succor or simply too weak to make a sound.

”Oh no! We’ve gotta help them!” Nel cried, making a move to rush forward.

”This is simply an illusion. Their fates are already sealed,” Shiva said, voice cold.

”Huh? What do you mean?” she asked, quirking her head. Her question was soon answered by Granny, and she felt her dismay build up with each word. Killing innocent people who had their whole lives ahead of them? Well, that was just coo coo crazy! Heroes were supposed to fight the baddies that hurt innocent people, not turn into the baddies! Some hero Saint Walpurga turned out to be!

”No use getting riled up about it. She is long dead, and good riddance,” Shiva said, and Nel would have been surprised at the rare undercurrent of spite in his tone if she wasn’t so upset. But she knew Shiva was right, and her friends were already charging forward in pursuit of Parzival.

Nel started to follow, but she paused and casted a glance at those poor, suffering people. She looked back at her friends. These people were dead, and even though she understood that fact, leaving them be made her heart ache. She knew most of the heroes didn’t like her duties as the Champion of kindness, love, and life, but they were already a distance from her…

”Can I…?” she asked, even though she was already pulling Licorice out.

After a moment, Shiva sighed deeply. ”If you wish.”

Just seconds later, Nel pocketed Licorice again and flew after the rest of the heroes, the weight on her chest lifting just a teensy bit. There were still so many people dying around them, but Nel didn’t have the time to help them all. The sooner they broke out of the illusion, the quicker these people could rest in peace.

Thanks to Aaxir clearing the path for them, they soon came face to face with the woman that caused all this, just in time to watch her and Fala’s duel.

Nel stumbled as she landed beside her friends. For a moment, it wasn’t Saint Walpurga and Fala fighting there anymore. It was Licorice, struggling against that bandit whose face had already disappeared from Nel’s memories. And behind them, begging for mercy from their assailant was…

She swallowed and shook her head. What should have been anger against Saint Walpurga melted into something more tender toward Parzival. She wondered why Parzival ended up as a big baddie. She wondered why she herself hadn’t turned into a big baddie against the people of Bhārata.

”Because you had me,” Shiva answered haughtily. Nel blinked. She was sure that Shiva was turning his nose up at her again, but the thought didn’t make her feel upset. Instead, there was a warm glow in her chest.

Shiva was right. Nel had been super sad and duper mad at everyone in Bhārata back then, but then she had remembered Shiva’s teachings and realized who the real baddies were. If she had killed everyone all willy nilly, then she’d be no better than that bandit!

Maybe if Parzival had someone like Shiva, he wouldn’t have turned out this way.

”He is too far gone now for us to consider that possibility,” Shiva said. His voice grew stern as he continued, ”Do not show him mercy.”

”Of course not,” Nel replied. Parzival needed to go down, down, down. Otherwise, her hero friends would die here, and all these innocent people, even if they were already long dead, would keep suffering.

With renewed vigor, Nel raised her Trishula and danced, sending forth rings of fire that burned hotter than the flames that threatened to engulf the city.

 

[Fluff]

Kannaka

I don't know, I don't know, I don't know her; who's the face, looking back, in the mirror...

"Your strength is failing you,"

"Thanks, Hou Yi, now shut up," Kannaka growled, even as her barrage of arrows faltered under the quailing of her mana reserves. Her patron god had done what he could, lent her as much strength as her body would allow, but her frame seemed simply incapable of harbouring said power for very long - like pouring water into a cracked cup, it seemed to slither away from her grasp faster than she could utilize it. "You're so mean to me all the time, don't even pay me enough for it," Her grumbling continued; even when her wings faltered, missing a few flaps here and there, gradually losing altitude, her mouth and hands continued at a rapid pace, spitting arguments and arrows with celerity.

"But I don't pay you anything..." The archers voice trailed off as realisation dawned.

"Exactly, now shut up," She shot another arrow, reached into her quiver-- a very ordinary movement, simply blinked and turned around-- and opened her eyes to nightmares come alive. For a moment she thought he had finally struck her down for her hubris and blatant disrespect, but the bow clutched tightly in her hands told her otherwise. Her eyes flicked this way and that, taking in the startling scene from far too close - why was she on the ground? - until something caught her eye. Her own hands, wrapped around the bow.

Her hands. Were these really hers? The sight that met her was... perfect, for lack of any other fitting words. The hands holding the grip were pristine, smooth, unblemished - none of the scars and scrapes she had grown used to witnessing every day, none of the roughness of her hands, none of the unevenness of bones set back poorly, what she could hide from the keen eyes of Kai anyways. The... hands, foreign and yet hers, drifted upwards slowly, in equal parts shock and wonder, turning this way and that as she took in the exotic sight, illuminated in the flickering flames of war and punctuating by the screams of the dying. But for a moment, just for a moment, Kannaka was deaf to the world, taking in the visage of her own body.

The appendages eventually hovered higher, gently brushing against her face - she felt it, she felt it touch her cheek, and yet the smoothness, the softness that met her fingertips was... bizarre. Almost... wrong. Her allies had long moved past, hot on the trail of Parzival, and she vaguely registered their footsteps receding away in the distance, but Kannii had other matters to attend to. Frantically scrambling, she dug this way and that, loathe to plunge those slender, fleetingly familiar hands into the dirt like so, but she needed to, she needed it--

There! A shield, fallen from some heroes hand, or perhaps a villains', forgotten by the side of the road. Stumbling vacantly towards it, she clutched it tightly, took a deep breath and raised it to gaze at herself in the reflective surface of the cold metal.

"The spirit realm," Her patron offered helpfully, clearly gearing up for a lecture on the ins and outs of what it constituted of, before getting cut off by Kannaka's harsh shout to 'shut up, Hou Yi!' punctuated by the wavering of her voice and trembling of hands. The shield slipped out of her hands, and thudded dully to the floor, rolling off to find a new corner to rest in for the rest of its miserable, rusty life. The girl lowered her head, sweeping up the bow and quiver onto her back in one swift motion, took wing with two powerful sweeps and trained her eyes off to the far distance.

She hadn't recognized the face in the metal, she hadn't ever known who was the girl she saw there. This girl, with the unscarred, pristine face - with stunning dark eyes, gently arching brows, sparkling lips and a gently flowing nose - with no physical injuries, no cuts, bruises, scars, was not who she woke up to every morning. This girl, a tantalizing vision of who she could have been, perhaps even who she really was deep down past the physical shell, was... it was... the girl who had never seen a day of violence, never known a hand to be laid upon her frame, without the body breaking, mending, warping to protect the softest parts of the body, to grow stronger after every break, was... she was...

Watching Parzival, and her fellow heroes, distant, and yet not too far to escape her gaze. They were over a mile away, nestled deep in the centre of the burning city, their visages flickering under the heat haze. A shot from this far was affected by a lot of things, humidity, elevation, temperature, wind, spindrift, even the Coriolis effect, the spin of the Earth comes into play. There would be a 6 to 10 second flight time on the arrow, so you'd have to shoot where the target's going to be, not where it's at. Lucky for her, Hou Yi's arrows seemed to hone in anyways, even when she wasn't- when they weren't--

"Your body is safe in the physical world. In the real world," The words fell on her ears with uncharacteristic gentleness, with none of the strictness she had come to associate with the authoritarian tutor. "Your ally, Enthyskana, plucked you out of the air. You have nothing to worry about, now focus on the task at hand," And she felt the metaphorical hand leave her shoulder as her breath steadied; perfect, stunning hand brushing her perfect, stunning face as they held the nocked arrow still, string drawn taut against her cheek, watching carefully for an opening, for a cue from her allies, watching a world she had never known burn before her eyes.

 

[Nessi]

Parzival

Parzival grit his teeth as he defended against Rohen’s azure assault. He could hear her venomous words, but ignored it, he didn’t expect a human to understand the struggle of a vampire anyways. Instead, he sent a flaming dragon her way, simultaneously intercepting Rohen’s watery projectiles, and hitting her square in her chest.
Before he could follow up with another attack, Parzival could hear the whistle of the spear flying towards him, causing him to backstep in order to dodge the attack. But he didn’t expect Tiberius’s second attack, he couldn’t sense it at all. There was no heartbeat, no sound of life, only darkness, a gap in Parzival’s senses. The spatha dug deep into his shoulder, but it wasn’t enough to stop his rampage, and similarly to Eleanor, Parzival shot Tiberius away with a fiery blast.

Rings of fire from Nel’s Tandava clashed against Parzival’s black flames, and ultimately consumed them, the old vampire, and one swirling inferno.
“Enough!” Parzival roared, dispelling Nel’s fire, and raising his hand toward the sky. The ring of black flames grew larger and larger, until the entire market was within its radius.
“This. Is. Over!” the old vampire screamed, black fire raining down on everyone present in the marketplace. As he floated over the heroes, he could hear the heroes yelling in pain, and couldn’t help but let a feeling of confidence wash over him. “Gods, hear me! See the weapon I have become!...Watch as your precious heroes die!” Parzival cackled.

“The only person who’ll be dying…is you!” A familiar voice yelled out. It was Eleanor, but a version that had not been seen for months now. Her hair was completely white, and her eyes now solid gold, the same color of the wings that now adorned her back. Her typical longsword now was now Paimon’s Talwar, and without hesitation, She used her wings to go straight to the epicenter of this nightmare.
Parzival fired off several of his black flame dragons, but instead of evading them, Eleanor reinforced her talwar, and slashed straight through them. Like a golden comet, Eleanor approached Parzival, getting closer and closer, until she was right in front of him. Her blade glowed even brighter as she raised it over her head. Parzival stared at the angel in front of him, trying to think of a way to avoid the incoming attack.
“Parzival, it’s time to let go.” Fala’s voice echoed, causing Parzival to freeze up.
“Fala?” Parzival said meekly, before Eleanor’s blade cleaved straight through him.

The illusion began to crumble, and the vision of all the heroes began to turn white.
“Thank you.” Fala’s voice echoed to all the heroes, before they were returned to their bodies.