Quest Retribution: Part I

[Erën]

Epilogue:​

---

Part I
​

---

​

A flash of lightning split the sky. Rain fell upon the street, and upon him there in it. Black blood muddled with water as it ran across the cobblestone, and as the tension of the battle eased he took a breath and looked around. Here, in this place that he knew nothing of, he fought against monsters he'd never before seen or heard of. With the help of others he slew them, some of them, and the rest fled. There were those still out there, hiding in the shadows, and likely more.

And the people here seemed oblivious to everything and everyone, or at least they were just mere moments ago. Now, after the ensuing chaos of battle they were no where to be seen. It was an odd thing for them to have fled without his noticing, almost as though they had simply vanished into thin air.

He looked to the wreckage in the street, and to the slain monsters that lay about. Abominable things they were, and now with their deaths he was left only with questions, not least of which being what to do with their ghastly poisons. There were wounds to be tended to, and it seemed there would be no answers given for those injuries, only the sound of the wind and the rain. But then a voice came from the night.

"There is much that can be done, no wound they can inflict is too great,"

He recognized that voice, and Erën turned his head to see. It was the stranger, the one who had briefly appeared before the monsters' revealed themselves.

"Do you not recognize them, First?"

Though it was a charge that he took up no longer, he was once the First Sword of the Order - something not just anybody would know.

"You must feel it, that not you, but another who came before had bore witness..."

From the dark the stranger came forth, yet hidden beneath their hood. This time though, there was something different about them. He could almost see the strange aura that had followed with this self imposing guide, but there was a feeling in the air that told him it was something to be trusted.

"I know... not fully of what you speak."

"You will... all of you will..."

---

It was with strange magics their wounds were healed, and their strength restored. He'd have inquired into these powers had he not been awestruck by the display: a beautiful and terrifying dance of colour and light, woven together to mend wounds and fuel their souls. It felt warm, and comforting. This stranger, they were different than anyone he'd ever met, but the familiarity was impossible to deny. They were Aeraesarian, or at least... they knew the light of the Soul Forge - they must have.

Then, through the streets they were led, and down toward the water they ventured until they came near the docks.

The stranger lifted their hand and pointed to the dark keep, perched out in the midst the waters, "there you will find answers, and likely, more questions."

A deep frown formed on his face as he looked out across the water, "you would not share them with us now? Why go there."

"The secrets are those I cannot share, but you must witness with your own eyes..."

Though it still rained, it was gentle now, and quiet.

"How shall we pass, I see neither ship nor raft-"

"You will see..."

His patience with this cryptic approach was growing thin, but he maintained all he could for the time being. He was simply far too curious - he had to know what these creatures were, why he responded to them like he had. Yea, any monster that would seek to slay him would suffer the same fate, but the fervour with which he fought them, the hatred he felt... he knew not its cause, but he'd felt it deep within, like the stranger had said. So, he would wait. And for a long while they did, sharing a few words while they did. After a time, the sound of a ship cutting through the water could be heard. He looked and saw only a shadow of one, coming nearer to them, approaching the dock. Erën was about to begin forward from under a canopy they'd taken shelter, when a sudden cold washed over him. He recognized it, as now it was all too familiar.

Then a sound in the distance.

More of the monsters, their talons clashing against the street, their pace fueled by an anxious need to halt the adventurers' journey across the water.

Spoiler: The Monsters

He reached for his swords, and drew them.

"They will likely reach us before the ship does... we must fight them."

---

OOC

---

 

[Callius Vox Mauricus]

"The night is long, dark, and full of nightmares."
​

That is what Callius may have told his children, had he any. The night had been long, it had been dark and as it stood, there were nightmares everywhere, the sounds of their talons ever-present and the screams and cries of those who had somehow not escaped the town echoing through the alleys all around.

"Six give me strength..." The grizzled knight groaned, bringing a wineskin to his lips for a quick swig as he peaked his way around one of the alleyways. It opened up into a road that led further down towards the dock courtyard, where he assumed there would be some sort of gathered defence, or more accurately hoped. 'Now is as good a time as ever' he thought to himself, dashing from his cover and sprinting with all the strength he could muster, chain and plate rattling like a dinner bell.
He was not fast enough, he could hear them approaching at speed, bouncing off of the roofs and skidding in packs across the cobbled street. His left-hand fingers hastily scrawled a pattern in front of him and after counting out three more steps, he spun; bastard sword outstretched in a wide arc as it cut a deep swathe through the head of a monster that had lunged for him, the Anirian steel blade glowering a radiant blue as it connected and detonated in arcane fire across the wound. The shockwave of the strike forced him into a back step and with a low bow, he narrowly avoided another beast's scything claws.

Rotating with deft feet, he swept the blade up and under the creature's side, another flash of arcane blowing the creature in two and giving Callius the space to continue running, charging full force towards the end of the road, leather boots thundering with the sheer intensity, he could practically feel the breaths of the creatures against the back of his neck, felt the claws catch his cloak.

"I'll not be taken by dark beasts of the night, have at me you curs!" He barked, digging his feet into the cobbles and readying his blade close and forward with a sweep of his cloak at the sudden rotation, it was a moment before the creature on his tail impaled itself, carried by momentum upon his blade and another moment before it was obliterated into a mass of giblets and ichor. Blinded by the power and the spray, he raised his arm and felt teeth sink through the padded metal and leather, catching flesh beneath. His sword swinging up and around but the monster dragged him down with a winding crash.
His sword clattered to the ground from his grip, the baying sounds of creatures approaching to finish him off loud as thunder in his ears, matching the pace at which his heart thudded. Pushing desperately against the hold of the monster, he hastily drew a ward with his fingers against the shoulder of the monster.

'This is gonna hurt,' momentarily went through his mind before he slammed the glyph etched into the gauntlet of his right hand into the hazy, almost translucent symbol he had scrawled.

Bright and searing was the eruption of magic that flowed from the impact, completely vaporizing the creature into nothing more than a blackened patch upon the stone, Callius was thrown several feet into a far wall, arms folded to protect his face, armour, and cloak smoldering as he slumped to the ground, groaning in protest from the pain.

"I regret that..." He wheezed to himself, shaking the ringing from his ears before clambering to his feet, sweeping up his blade and patting off some blue flames that lingered on the fur collar of his cloak. His gaze shifted to the glyphs painted in blue down the length of the hand-and-a-half sword, 'three left, then I'm done, then they'll have me.' He damned himself shouldering the blade, sweat matted hair stuck to his face, blurring his vision and as he burst into the courtyard of the port, he roared with all the capacity his lungs could muster.

"Demons, to arms, demons are coming!" He bellowed, another hastily drawn symbol being etched into the air before him as he stopped just short of the twin sword-wielding elf, a hazy wall of arcane energy filling the space between Callius and the beasts that flooded from the street he had come from, likely having been dazed from the explosion. "I hope you can use those elf, we're in deep shit here," Callius snarled through gritted teeth, his cloak being discarded and his sword outstretched, ready for the clash.

He was not even getting paid for this.

---

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

They can't have gone far.

Rain beat every inch of her back as she swept through the sky in jagged sweeps. Those powerful red tipped wings could have carried her high above the storm to the blue skies and sunshine she knew lay not far away but up there she wouldn't have been able to see very far and even at her low height she was having trouble seeing through the storm. Fire licked down her wings almost before the thought finished but even the white-hot light didn't penetrate very far in this weather though certainly enough that she should have seen what she was looking for by now if they existed. How could a whole town disappear?

Erën had noted their oddness to her in a quiet mutter when they had first arrived. They had done nothing wrong for them to have aroused the hunters suspicions so - they were polite, answered questions, offered bed and board. Yet there was an odd vacantness to their eyes and their smiles reminded Caliane of the dolls children played with at their mothers feet.

"Not even a doll," she muttered to herself as she swept down lower to the ground. When the fighting had grown worse she and a few others had left the foray to go back to the people in the hopes of gathering them together and getting them somewhere safe. When they'd arrived the whole place had been deserted. Every house. Every bar. Every inn. What was worse was that there had been no signs of haste or being forced to leave. Instead it looked as though every had merely gotten up and walked out in the middle of their tasks. They had discovered pots boiled to the point of overthrowing, a book open and a word unfinished in a letter. Between them they'd searched a good few miles all around the town but there was nothing. Not even a footprint. With one last sweep and a few choice words that would have earnt her a switch across the palm from her father, Caliane rose into the air and then looped to head back to where the others still were.

It was quite clear on the approach that the monsters had overrun the town entirely. Having missed most of the action in her search she didn't know this was in fact a second wave but she quickened her pace regardless building height as she went. When she reached where the fighting was growing thickest she dived, her wings alight with pure white flame once more. The creatures screamed as she swept past them and fell from the rooftops coated in the deadly flame allowing those on foot to finish them off and if not the flames would consume them soon enough. With a sweep down one street done, the tips of her wings brushing the rooftops either side, she rose back into the air again and prepared for another dive.

 

[Samara Asenta]

Look at how their black blood rains down upon the ground. How it stains it as one paints a canvas. Look, my Sweet, at the great work you do and marvel how so few appreciate its beauty.

Samara slowly stood up from where she'd landed following the last bout with the beasts that plagued this town. Her blue eyes scanned the street around the mouth of the alley where she stood. That rain had long since soaked her hair and dampened her traveling attire did not matter. Noticing a mortal that was gawking from having seen her work did. Fortunately, such innocent creatures had long fled during the chaos of battle and carnage. Witnesses would have complicated her remaining long, and these people needed a hunter like her. Not because she was, herself, a monster, but because she was an experienced hunter of them. Their infestation was one of the worst Samara had come across.

Her blade whistled in the air as the tainted blood was cast to the cobblestone off to the side. The Elf lifted the blade and inspected it having found no immediate threat -- along with no gawking mortals. A sword-whip was a versatile tool, but its construction might weaken its durability. It had severed limbs well enough. Unnaturally bolstered strength likely had some part in that.

With the waves of beasts at a standstill, Samara stepped back into the street to find others tending to the wounded. A lack of obvious witnesses hadn't meant the town's populace had been slain -- good. Nothing was less satisfying than routing the enemy only to have no one left to care.

One that seemed intent to take charge loitered with the healers and then seemed to have a new mission in mind. Samara wondered what drew their attention, and so began to follow. Had their direction been toward an inn or tavern -- both of which likely bereft of any bartender at that moment -- the Elf would have ignored them. Their was purpose to their stride that spoke of something more.

Near the waters, the man seemed taken by the words of one that'd led him -- and others -- there. Having studied much magic before losing the ability to conjure, Samara knew the unknown Stranger's cryptic ways. Being so young among her kind, Samara had been the unwilling victim of lofty, round-about 'you will figure it out on your own and then I will claim to had led you there' approach many a time. Perhaps if she were not but a child in their eyes, and had kept her power until she was one or two hundred such games would have become her plight to bestow on the next generation.

As they awaited a ship to draw near to ferry them to where the answers lay, this 'First' announced a new wave of monsters that drew near.

Callius burst onto the scene around that time with no small amount of noise with his call to arms. Samara's blue eyes watched as he seemed to fall in line and address the other Elf present. Her eyes turned forward without comment in preparation of the assault. One quickly punctuated by a flaming bird-like visage that swept in over the rooftops setting beasts aflame. Made Samara wish she still had power even reminiscent of that.

No matter. The Dark Goddess had taken things away, and given others in their place. Samara learned to adapt. Though... facing waves of monstrous beasts hadn't quite been what she'd planned to do after rising earlier.

Slowly Samara spun the sword along either side in her hand. "Demons. I like demons. No one cares how many you kill." Not even the Dark Ones that made them. "A keg for the one that slays the most," Samara announced. There was no smile on her lips, but that didn't mean a reason to live couldn't be offered. Something pleasant to look forward to -- drowning the entire day's worth of endless toil in a mug.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Callius Vox Mauricus Caliane Ruinë

 

[Erën]

---

"I hope you can use those elf, we're in deep shit here..."​

---

When they did choose to return, their numbers had certainly become many more than in their first encounter. It was a wonder how so many could appear so quickly, but there was hardly any time to afford for that thought - the beasts were soon to be upon them. His eyes turned up, catching sight of a pair perched up on a nearby rooftop. They were preparing to pounce, but before they made their move they were struck by flame and thrown from their place, flailing in fire all while they fell. First his eyes followed after the wings alight, watching as they carried Caliane down and then high into the sky. Then his eyes turned back to the creatures ahead of them with their clawing and biting.

"A keg for the one that slays the most," Samara announced.

He wasn't typically one to keep score, but in this case, against these things, he was intent on slaying the most. Demons they called them, and he thought this a fitting description.

They came.

As the gap between became closed, Erën darted forward to meet the first of them. He relinquished any thought of using his magic against them, as they seemed resistant to his powers, but his blades were another story. In a decisive attack, limbs were severed and ichor spilled onto the ground, and the first he met was left in a mess as he moved on to the second, and then a third. The demons reached with long claws and tipped tails, but having had his strength and stamina restored following the first fight by the stranger's healing spells, his efforts to evade them proved to be enough, for now.

Had he been alone he'd surely have been surrounded, but with fellow fighters by his side they would - for the moment - be held at bay. And all the while the dark ship edged closer, bringing with it an ominous shroud of fog.

With the fall of another demon he turned his eyes to the water, and there it had nearly come.

"To the dock," he hollered, and urged his comrades that way, moving closer to there all while in the fight.

The ship was tall. It looked black, sails and all, and with the fog lingering about it nothing could be seen up on the deck. Then even as it came to rest by the dockside, no mooring was made, and without a sound a ramp stretched out and came to rest on the dock.

"Go," said the stranger to them all, their voice seeming to come from within, unhindered by the sound of battle, "the ship is not of this place. They cannot follow..."

---

Callius Vox Mauricus | Caliane Ruinë | Samara Asenta​

 

[Traecon Maxwell]

Fire.

Rage.

And with it, he cut loose.

With an unholy roar, the wooden wall of a house, close to the docks was blown open. Alongside splinters were the parts and blood of those creatures, as Traecon burst into the open. Greatsword alive with molten fire bleeding from its skull crossguard, he was a flurry of blade and metal, rending his attackers asunder as he broke free of the ambush he had fallen into.

Damn them.

They had come without warning, literally piling upon him by the dozens. Had he not the foresight to heat himself up with a small fire beforehand, that would have been the end of him. And as luck would have it, they had thrown him directly onto the fire itself, jumpstarting his ability. With that amount of heat in an instant, it was enough to propel him free and out into the dark outside. There were more here. More than he could handle. But as he looked, he seemed not alone in the struggle.

Among them, a familiar face. An elf. He recognized that one, from the dark castle. With an offhanded swing, four creatures behind him were cleft in twain, as he focused heat to the muscles at the topmost center of his spine. It would give him a mild ache, but nothing a massage could fix, or a soft bed.

With a grunt, he flew, the heat expelled from him as a blast of air, a dash that covered the distance between him and the group. With a flourish, blade yet in hand he slashed at another before his feet, taking off its head, then crashed feet first into another, grinding its face into the floorboards beneath. It brought him close enough to call. But he could not get the chance.

Damn!

He dashed back further to the docks, punching aside more of those... demons. It rang through his armor as if he had struck solid rock. With a flourish of the sword that made little sense given its size, he cut more to ribbons as he kept moving backwards, towards the ship.

He moved until the elf was directly beside him. He nodded in greetings, even as he kicked another across the docks into a group of them, as if he were playing ball. He also felt he had pulled something with that, but he was heated enough the pain didn't register.

"Remember me?"

---

Callius Vox Mauricus | Caliane Ruinë | Samara Asenta

 

[Lazule]

A streak of light sailing down a street, a burst of radiance illuminating the crumbling buildings and the falling rain, and then dimness resettled.

* * * * *

PERIPHERY​

Lazule, in the Forlorn City's relatively quiet periphery, approached the corpse of the monster he had just slain with a Javelin. He stopped beside the body, a hideous and foul thing blown nearly apart and still steaming from his magic. It emanated a vile aura which could be perceived by sight alone and which left no doubt. He slowly squatted down, the stone and metal of his armored suit's knees coming to touch the cobbles of the street. He summoned a Shiv of Light in his hand. And Lazule began to carve off the monster's scalp. He lifted the skin from the skull, strings of blood swinging and dangling. Held the scalp aloft.

"Recompense."

For all those who had been slain by this fiend, and even those who might have been slain had it not been for his intervention. Here, Lazule was well within his Domain. Here, he could act without question. Here, his Dream, shown to him by the terrible Amalgamation yet nonetheless true, was manifest.

Spoiler: Lazule's Dream

Lazule stood upon a mountain of corpses.

Vile monsters all, whose wickedness was beyond doubt.

Yet more monsters climbed up this mountain in a ceaseless tide.

And at the summit she stood. Naught but love for her holy work warming her chest.

Queen of Violence. Master of her Domain. Reigning supreme.

The Monster Slayer.

Now.

And until the Fire faded.

The warrior had found his war once again. Reclaimed, he was, back into the ancient fold of violence.

* * * * *

THE DOCKS​

Streaks of light. Flashes. Distant thumps of kinetic explosions (impacts of yet more Javelins of Light).

And far down one of the streets which led to and terminated at the docks of the Forlorn City, beyond the new wave of monsters which assaulted Erën and Caliane and Samara and Callius and Traecon there, indeed being chased by another smaller wave of monsters, running in a such way that it seemed apparent that he wanted to become surrounded by the wave at the docks and the wave chasing him, was Lazule--his armor terribly embattled.

Lance of Light in his right hand, Shield of Light in his left, Lazule was charging down the street Shield first and with the wake of monsters trailing after him. Ones that emerged from alleys, from doorways, from ruins and from windows and from around corners, ones that leapt into his way he slashed with his Lance, bashed with his Shield.

He recited his Mantras as he was running and fighting, "...am the Hunter. I am the Slayer. And there is nothing but that. In this purpose--"

One of the monsters pounced upon him and clawed at his Lance-arm, his armored torso and his shoulder, damaging them more. Lazule rammed the creature into the wall of a dilapidated building, it let go, and he slammed the sharp edge of his Shield into the fiend and its hiss dissolved to nothing as it fell apart--bisected.

"--so clear--"

He tried to start running again. Two more monsters harried him, clutching and biting at his legs, his helm, further weathering his armor. A downward stab into one, and rolling along the street to force the other off his back, and then he Lanced the fiend before it could pounce again.

"--I find only joy."

Lazule started running toward the docks again. Closing in on the wave of monsters there from behind. He could not see the others who were already there, fighting, the sight of them obscured by the mass of fiends arrayed in a horde, but he did see a streak of fire and the white of wings as Caliane strafed overhead. Good. There were those who had taken upon themselves the mantle of righteousness alive yet.

Lazule was getting closer, but he wouldn't be able to simply get through the mass of fiends and break through to the waterfront of the docks.

Not alone.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Callius Vox Mauricus Caliane Ruinë Samara Asenta Traecon Maxwell

 

[Gil'Tyrnin Solcrest]

Gil had been on his way to the docks he had followed trails of blood, he saw an armor clad warrior who also wielded light as weapon. His powers seemed familiar to Gil, however they were fundamental different, Gil was a Paladin of the Light God Sol'Nityr.

As he worked his way towards the warrior monsters climbed on wall and roof through alley and they seemed to move rapidly. One jumped from a rooftop yo his right, he pulled from two disks of light on either side of him broad greatswords had they been made of steel rather that pure light energy they would have weighted a great deal.
He swung the blade of his right hand cleaving the creature searing its wounds shut. Another came from the alley to his left, another from the rooftop above nothe coming down mass screeching claws ready to rip and tear flesh.

He swung in a vertical arc with his left, his swing started high, the first one splitting cleanly in two, the second seemingly seeing the arc of the blade and the death of one of its kind, it dodged to the left leaping in claws catching his armor the sickening screech of the sharp claws scratching deep into the armor, one of the claws caught the leather of his vambracer riping it, it hung from his fore arm. He swung with his left arm, the creature jumped dodging the blade. It was smart, not smart enough. Gil brought his right sword of light along with the other. The beast was cut in two in mid air.

He ran to the other warrior and nodded to him, now was not the time for formality, now was a time for action..

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara shot toward the horde in Eren's wake. The grip of the blade twisted in her grasp just before she swung the sword short of the first to fall. What was one became many as the sword stretched forth in a multitude of razor sharp segments that bit and sawed through the meat of its foe. Offending limbs and severed heads alike would follow. The whip of blades was drawn back and flung forth amidst the sea of terrors that plagued them. At times Samara danced as the streets were coated in the blood of angels and demons alike with the blades circling her as a the sharp winds of a tempest.

Teeth clenched, the Dark Elf flailed the blade ceaselessly in opposition to the endless tide. Her blue eyes shifted from side to side to track those she fought beside. They may be nameless creatures defending this land for their own reasons, but each of them had a single, common enemy of which there was no doubt. One they could not face alone. Samara once fought in a band of hunters a lifetime ago; it was pleasant to do so again. They would not perish so long as she had a say in their fate.

A bright line shone in the dark, which caused Samara to wince at its sudden appearance. While such weaponry would no doubt prove useful against the demons, it was no longer a friend to the Dark Elf turned vampiric. Such unpleasant turns, however, had become normal in her travels. Today was no different.

Eren called for them to fall back, but there were those among the fiends that had yet to reach their position. Samara drew her sword-whip in and locked its form once more. With a hiss, she darted among the demons faster than even an Elf should. The blade hacked at the legs and heads of the beasts to disable or kill, but such an end was not what she sought. "Hurry," she called out as she drew near to Lazule, "we must make for the dock now."

It took all her speed and strength to narrowly avoid the long claws and the fangs of her viscous opponents. Nestled so far into the sea of darkness they were a constant threat whose numbers were kept down by the sheer amount of space left for the monsters to stand and fight.

"This way," the Dark Elf cried as she began to make her way toward the dock once more. Perhaps together they would blaze a path back to the waters and uncertain safety.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Callius Vox Mauricus Caliane Ruinë Samara Asenta Traecon Maxwell Gil'Tyrnin Solcrest

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Screeching, haunting howls of pain chased her progress through the twisted streets of the town on her second dive. Creatures who knew nothing but the searing agony of pure white baelfyre, a type of flame that hadn't been seen nor used in combat for centuries or more. It hungrily ate up flesh and bone, muscle and sinew, till only a few specs of ash were left and those only done so because the wind had snatched them away from the last tongues of the fires appetite. Even from fiends such as this, Caliane would never be able to shake that noise. It made her sick to her stomach. Or at least, it faintly did. The soulfire that burned inside of her, that spirit of fire itself that dwelled within her body, rejoiced and bathed in it. Danced in it like a swamp witch before her spoils on the full moon. She couldn't tell if the sickness in her stomach was from her own repulsion of the soulfires giddy joy.

A sudden knock to her wing broke her from her reverie and she swore as the feeling of talons dug into her flesh. Golden rivets of blood appeared then steamed from the holes made by the creatures claws and the pair went toppling onto a flat rooftop. She braced herself for the impact and threw herself into the roll. The creatures victorious chatter turned into cries of pain as it was crushed beneath her weight and the fire spread down its body. Once its talons left her flesh she drove herself to her feet and pounded along the rooftop flexing her injured wing. Injured but not drastically so. With two beats and at a run to lend herself speed she took off into the sky once more and winged her way towards the harbour.

The house's roof she had just been on soon went up in flames and it leapt from house to house.

"Time to go, love," she said with a soft smile and a gentle tone despite the soot and blood on her cheeks and the devastation at her back. Her eyes flickered to the figure, questions building in her gaze, but she trotted aboard the boat without further complaint.

 

[Erën]

"To the dock," he hollered...


Not just yet...​

---

From fire and debris, yet another came to join them. Traecon, with more of the monsters in tow, burst forth in a tremendous display of his power, rocketing toward them in a flurry of sword and fist. Of all the warriors Erën had fought alongside, there were few who knew how to make an entrance quite like him. As Traecon brought himself near, Erën began to beckon him to likewise retreat toward the ship... but something stopped him, and urged him to hold his ground.

And soon the sound found him, echoing in the distance.

A series of low concussions.

And as he fought, even over the sounds of steel and claws and snapping mouths, he listened, and he heard. Another concussion. And another. It was a pattern he was familiar with, indicative of one he'd fought alongside many times. And then he saw a streak of light, close enough now for him to see plainly. He saw the javelin shining like the Sun, though with that lessened radiance, often the affliction from lack of light from above. And so it was, fate had called them here to this place, and once more they would be joined alongside in battle.

Lazule...

As Samara cut through the rushing monsters with the fury of her whip blade toward the coming warrior - and another who joined him whom Erën could not yet see(Gil'Tyrnin) - Erën called to Traecon.

"We must prepare them a path," he urged.

Though the magic of his Celestial Strike was easily thwarted by these monsters' wretched hide, there was perhaps another avenue for him to give them pause.

Quickly now he channeled it, and with the forceful sheathing of one sword he grasped tightly the other in both hands. He lunged forward, drawing the sword upward to cleave the head off his nearest foe, and then a twist of the sword pointed it down and he buried the tip into the ground, splitting through the cobblestone there. And without a word from his lips, only the direction of his thought, did a great sound usher forth the coming of a brilliant light. From beneath, tearing through the ground and shooting up in a straight line toward the line of buildings there before the dock, severing the coming of monsters from one way, the Pillar of Tychan rose up. It appeared as a wall of shimmering light like glass, which rippled waves with each impact from the beasts that tried to push through. Lightning crackled and clawed back at them, retaliatory to their unholy touch.

And yes, he blocked one way, where it had been more open and accessible for the monsters to attack them. But there were still those already in between, and coming from the other way. And he, while harnessing the Pillar, was rendered noncombative and vulnerable. But with Traecon nearby, and Samara, Lazule, and now also Gil'Tyrnin approaching and slaying in their path, he was confident he could hold out until their forces be rallied to join Caliane onto the ship. The dark ship, inviting and uncomforting all at once. But even they, mighty champions of Arethil, would be taxed to remain here to outlast these creatures. No, they had to leave now that the avenue for such had been provided, no matter how uncertain it may have seemed.

Something ebbed at him, urging him to go, overriding his desire to slay each of these monsters here and now.

---

"Quickly now..." the Stranger's voice returned, "...there is but a short while."​

---

Callius Vox Mauricus | Samara Asenta
Caliane Ruinë
Lazule | Gil'Tyrnin Solcrest ​

 

[Traecon Maxwell]

From beneath, tearing through the ground and shooting up in a straight line toward the line of buildings there before the dock, severing the coming of monsters from one way, the Pillar of Tychan rose up. It appeared as a wall of shimmering light like glass, which rippled waves with each impact from the beasts that tried to push through. Lightning crackled and clawed back at them, retaliatory to their unholy touch.

The swordsman found himself in awe at the feat of magic. Refined in a way he himself could not hope to match.

A reminder that the world was so much bigger than he was, with people of abilities that would eclipse his own in style. Execution however was a different matter. All that required was that he end his foes. And his blade would suffice well enough. He had his own bag of tricks, and it was time well enough he would use some of them.

With another glance, he noted the stature of the elf, and that of the barrier. He had half a mind to thank the elf for granting him such trust as the barrier held creatures at bay, at the cost of the elf's own combat ability. Leaving him to escort the remaining to the boat and keep the elf unharmed. He would ensure that trust returned with interest.

His blade raised, he breathed long and harsh. His body heat was still pulsing and rising even in this environment, drawn into the blade like oil onto fire. The faces on its metal had already begun to glow and burn, as the souls consumed in its bloody history were once more awakened, their power forcibly harnessed to empower the weapon's own rage. His breath misted, coming out in a hiss more suited to a steam engine. His armor too, responded in kind to this change, as what gaps that could be seen on it also glowed orange, albeit at a dimmer glow compared to his sword.

The creatures were smart, of this he was certain. It was no coincidence they had piled atop of him dozens at once, instead of one. He could perhaps scratch cooperation off the list as well. A group had already broken off the ones attacking the coming allies and were barreling straight towards the source of the barrier.

He grunted. "Like hell."

He took care not to damage the wood beneath too much - they seemed aged enough as they were, worsened by the fighting taking place atop it. One of his techniques would shatter it like so much glass. Fortunate that there were multiple pathways to the boat.

Blade sheathed, he ran across a part of the wooden pathways, standing directly in the path of the splinter group.

They may be unearthly fast and agile, but he had yet to see one of them actually swim beneath the wood to ambush anyone on the docks.

"Let's test if you pests can swim."

They responded in screeching inhuman cries, drawing more from the hordes coming from the village. Fine, he thought, let them all come.

He needed no voice to match those cries. His foot would do the talking.

​

---

SMASH!
​

---

It looked as if a bomb had went off at his feet. Those allies watching would see a gigantic splash, as if a dragon's claw had fallen on the docks, sending wood and water everywhere. Those creatures approaching from that side had been blown away, back to the shores. Those unlucky enough to be thrown further seaside flailed about in the water, clearly unsuited to such environments.

The swordsman was already carving his way through more creatures approaching the barrier's source, not deterred from the sudden decrease in routes. He could already see others contributing to the effort, and so he continued further, more foul creatures swept aside.

He needed not to drive them back, only open a path for the rest to pass. His grip switched to two-hands, shifting into a defensive stance as he rushed in. Claws and talons beat on the metal to no avail, its fire burning those who came close.

Amid the dark horde he was a light of his own, having built enough heat it radiated from his armor like a second layer of skin. Harmful to ally and foe alike, but said allies were occupied with their own. He would relieve them of that burden.

"Rally to the boat!"

---

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Callius Vox Mauricus Caliane Ruinë Samara Asenta Gil'Tyrnin Solcrest Lazule

 

[Lazule]

Fierce footsteps as the pronged feet of Lazule's armored suit struck the street in a hurried cadence. Thin wisps of steam were leaking out from his armor, flowing behind him in his wake. Extended use of his Luminomancy was overheating him. Too much and the corpse onto which his suit was fused would cease to function and he would collapse--it was not so different to when he had inhabited Lena's body.

But all was as it should be, for he did not fear death. He was a practitioner of violence. Necessary violence, for anything less was insufficient to his purpose. These monsters--by what other means could they be stopped save that which Lazule readily employed now? Any conception of goodness which did not include violence was lacking, powerless, set only to be destroyed by the evil which did so include violence as one of its precepts. Thus it was that the only versions of goodness, righteousness, that could survive in this world were the ones which embraced slaying, slaughter, massacre. These very creatures were one proof among a legion of such: the sole solution to the problem they posed to Arethil was the mass grave into which Lazule would deliver them. And so it was that Violence reigned supreme over both good and evil, and both came to it and paid their due respect.

Monsters behind him.

Monsters ahead.

Lazule was exactly where he ought to be. Here, distributing retribution, claiming recompense, as was the purpose for which he was created. He had a darkly stained satchel slung over his shoulder--it was overflowing with the collected scalps of these Monsters.

Gil'Tyrnin, an armored elf, appeared suddenly and sliced one of the Monsters cleanly in half beside Lazule. And Lazule nodded back, any possible expression hidden behind the golden visor of his helm. Samara (the vampire, a fact which Lazule had as yet no insight of, and would react with immediate and open aggression should he discover it) also had come forward and cut a path through the throng of grotesque Monsters. This way, she said, and it was now that Lazule could properly see the docks and two others there. One of which was Erën. Yes, he should have known. Caliane and Erën enjoyed the accompaniment of one another often. And to both of them Lazule acknowledged that he was very much indebted.

Lazule Lanced and Shield-bashed his way through the writhing, feral horde of Monsters. The Pillar of Tychan went up somewhere behind him as he closed on the docks, Traecon's explosive footstomp as well.

Rally to the boat!

Acceptable. His armor was in disrepair, and cooldown of his magic was necessitated. A possible tactical advantage existed by putting water between themselves and the horde to facilitate this. Then the slaying could recommence.

Lazule dispelled his Lance and Shield and ran down the docks and jumped onto the awaiting boat. Caliane, having come down from the air, was already there. As Lazule raised his hand and aimed it back at the horde of Monsters, as light coalesced into his palm and there came a high-pitched whine, as he fired off bursts of Needles of Light into the grotesque, ferocious mass of the fiends, he said to Caliane,

"We are often drawn to similar places."

Another burst of rapid-fire Needles.

"This exceeds coincidence."

Another burst.

"I am glad that it does."

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë Gil'Tyrnin Solcrest Traecon Maxwell Samara Asenta

 

[Gil'Tyrnin Solcrest]

As Samara and Lazule began to cut their way what seemed like a flood of monsters that cascaded and crawled over one another like a raging river of flesh and bone he moved with them.

As things began to tighten he allowed the swords he was carrying to dissipate. Gil reached through a disks of light, one to his right and one to his left, from them be pulled two hammers of light.
The hide of these things were thick, like armor. This was where the hammer had shined, against armored foes. For if it did not break the armor itself, the shockwaves sent through the soft tissue would rupture organs and cause massive internal injuries.

He swung hard and hit often smashing into the carapace of the foul beasts hearing them screech in agony as each strong blow landed on crown or center mass. This confirmed his assumptions. He watched as the light wielder smashed his way through the horde making his way to the boat where the rest of any who had survived was now standing. He could only imagine all of the innocent lives lost. He would say a prayer for their sparks once he had room to breath. As he arrived to the dock he saw the other man fighting to open their escape route to the boat.

As Lazule made it to the boat he leaped to the vessel upon it he had seen two familiar faces Caliane and Eren'thiel, one he had seen monsters with, the other a seemingly endless horde of orcs, then undead. How fitting. Time to catch up would have to wait. He turned now seeing the other light wielder shoot out needles of light to lay cover fire for the man who held the dock, a man not known to him. He would do the same behind him from above disks of light appeared one after the other. More and more light disks filled the the dark with light multiplying like cells. From the disks various weapons of lights began to be ejected at great velocity. Axes, spears, swords, daggers and various other weapons crashed into the horde of monsters in an attempt to hold them back to offer Traecon a path to the boat so the horde would not swallow him as he retreated.

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara's blade whirled and arched through the air slashing at and through as many of the fool creatures as the Elven woman could with every swing. It was important to strike quickly and at great number to keep the creatures at bay. As she'd waded into the sea of darkness, it would be easy to become swallowed in the seemingly tireless waves that poured through the city streets.

Dshara's voice within Samara was silent through all of this; likely the result of so many 'champions of light' throwing their power against the monsters that sought to tear them apart. Fire and light aplenty to go around. Not quite the place for a dark entity to be making any waves in case one of those present might hear or feel it. The silence was a blessing and a curse. There were times Her magic would be of great help seeing how it'd robbed Samara of her own conjuring powers.

Alongside the new arrival, Lazule, and Gil'Tyrnin the three of them carved their way toward the dock while keeping those at their back at bay. Eren'thiel's spire helped manage the numbers, and the many weapons and powers of those present had thinned the herd, but it was still daunting work staying alive amidst such wanton savagery.

As they darted across the breaking planks of the dock besieged on all sides, Samara's blade snapped back into its short form to avoid striking the survivors and allies. She pivoted once aboard ship and watched as the others commenced in long-range assault. A form of combat the Dark Elf had not come prepared to wage in this particular city.

That did not mean she was completely helpless, however. Her fingers pressed against hidden pockets to produce two small vials of bright blue liquid. With a flick of her hand she threw the vessels out toward the beasts. Where they struck large star-shaped crystal popped into existence with the wisps of frost carried away in the wind from their crystalline blades. It wasn't a sea of fire or chain lightning, but making a barricade of dead beasts helped even if but a little.

"Not much more we can do here," Samara shouted over the din of battle. It was time to go. Long as they had everyone they expected to convey to safety; those left behind would not find survival easy, and only for those truly seasoned in combat would it be a thought worth humoring.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Caliane wandered slowly down the length of the ship as the sounds of battle raged behind her. She could feel the heat of her flames beginning to spread from one street to the next like a hungry dragon stalking from prey to prey. At the rate it was going the flames would cut across the town holding off more of the creatures from reaching them, but it would also trap those already this side of the flames here. She lit the solitary lantern that hung from the central mask and then turned back to see the first of their forces clatter on board with monsters on their heels. In one swift movement she drew her bow and an arrow from her quiver and loosed. It brushed past the cheek of some helmeted knight and shot the monster about to grab him in the eye. The foul thing fell back with a howl and the knight gave her a thankful, haggard look as he helped hurl his friend further onto the ship.

With a gentle flap of her wings she jumped onto the ships side and loosed another arrow into the fray to foil another of the monsters who got too close to one of their companions.

When she saw Lazule, however, she paused. The Soulfire flared in greeting in her mind and for a brief moment, she allowed the Otherness that resided in her to take over. Flames flared to life in her eyes and she grinned, before they vanished and her smile softened into that of one more usual to Caliane. She placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

"I would like for us to meet, at least once, when we are not in peril," a musical laugh escaped her, so at odds with their bleak surroundings before she turned her attention back towards those still boarding. The majority of the group were on board huddled in groups and nursing injured friends but a few remained on shore. Her lips pressed together.

"Erën, now!" she was not one to raise her voice often but her heart squeezed seeing him among the few remaining on the shore. Gil, too, she was startled to see. Those days in the haunted forest chasing gods seemed like an Age ago. "Gi--"

Suddenly the boat lurched, its sails caught in some unseen breeze.

"QUICKLY!"

They would have to jump.

 

[Erën]

The streets grew slick with the blood of these beasts, and a stench filled the air that was sickening and sweet. But as each one fell, another took its place. It was as though they had no number, and would simply continue to appear relentlessly.

Surely they had chosen the best path, to board the black ship and depart. Though he, and likely none of the others, knew anything about this ship other than The Stranger's vague sense of safety regarding it, there seemed no other choice. And so as many of them that could boarded with all haste, and soon there were but a couple left unaccounted.

The ship paid no mind, and was taken in the grip of an unfelt wind. She lurched backward, its ramp returning to where it had come, and slowly drifted away from the dock.

"Erën, now!"
​

He cast a look back.

"QUICKLY!"​

He tore his sword from its place, jammed into the street, and relinquished the shield. It dimmed, and then shattered into great pieces that descended and dispersed into colourful sparks that dissipated away.

He turned, dragging his sword through the air and cleaving a lurching foe's head in two as it leapt toward him. He leapt forward some several meters toward the dock, putting space between him and the monsters, and he ran. All the while he could only hope that Traecon had too taken flight, and it was he who Erën felt hot on his heels, and not one of those demons.

The ship drifted further away, turning now, preparing to come about and depart. Erën could not jump the distance with natural gifts alone. For those last few steps as he came to the end of the pier, a shining aura wisped around him and marked his steps. Then, with nothing more ahead to carry him, his feet found their final place and he jumped with all his might, heightened by his magic. And high over the water he soared. Then, in a display fitting elven blood, he landed into a kneel comfortably upon the deck.

The creatures, meanwhile, were stayed by the presence of water. Either they could not suffer it or they could not swim, regardless, they came no closer and made no effort too, and instead did little more than claw and snarl and snap from the shore.

Erën rose to his feet, and turned to see all those who had made it aboard. Among them he saw both familiar and unfamiliar faces, but each of them was welcome in his eyes. His eyes searched further, for the one who had led them this way, and saw them not. Instead, as he looked he saw only the shame that had befallen this vessel, leaving it tattered and awry. And still, even now with them aboard it was clear to see there was not crew.

And yet, it sailed.

---

​

Shortly after the ship had left the city, if one were to look back behind them to see where they had came they would instead see nothing but blackness following after, so thick not even the shore could be seen. The way ahead was clear, and the bow of the ship pointed straight toward the dark keep set in the midst of the waters before them.

---

Erën, though hesitant at first, sheathed his sword. After several moments, in addition to the time spent by those who arrived before him, he decided this vessel was clearly safe enough. He looked around, and saw that he and the others were on the main deck.

He approached the others, saying, "there is something about these creatures... I don't think we've seen the last of them."

As he spoke a coolness gripped the air, a cold which seemed to come from beneath; from within the ship. But inside was nothing but darkness, and its whispers were only of fear.

Erën turned his head to a door leading within, and it was like he could see the shadows reaching out and grabbing fruitlessly into the night, hoping to ensnare one unfortunate to tread too close. From there, his eyes lifted up, and above, beyond the quarter deck, he saw the helm.

And there, someone, or something, moved.

"There," he shouted with a point, and then moved quickly to ascend one of the stairways up to the quarter deck, and then up another set to the next deck.

Whoever it was, could not be allowed to escape.

---

The Stranger... even they did not know what powers had drawn itself to the black ship. A vessel once cursed with worldly magic, was now a home for something far more - and it dwelt now in The Stranger, too.

---

Traecon Maxwell | Samara Asenta
Caliane Ruinë
Lazule | Gil'Tyrnin Solcrest​

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara had to admit, the thought of being buried under so many beasts was terrifying even to her. Perhaps she was a Vampire, and perhaps she was even the favored of a Dark One, but neither meant much with so many claws and teeth ripping you apart. A shiver ran down the Elf's spine at the thought. It reminded her too much of the dungeon cell where she had been remade. Far too much.

She schooled her features in stone by the time Erën turned. There was no place for fear in battle. Even if their fight was over -- for now -- hysterics were of no use.

"Really?" Samara snorted. "It will be too soon to see such again. Pray to whatever deities you believe in a way to destroy them exists wherever it is we are going." Though no doubt Dshara loved those monsters and would champion them spreading across the entire realm. Samara, however, had no desire to see them consume all life. There had to be a way to contain or destroy them.

Her blue eyes turned toward the door as Erën's did for much of the same reason. Darkness. Samara knew it well. The Elven woman pivoted, ready to grab anyone that errantly thought to walk into Death's tendrils that awaited them.

Then Erën called attention to the helm. "Cover both sides."

Samara drew her sword again, but hesitated to make sure someone didn't try to 'sneak off' into the doorway of damnation while the group was occupied. Only because she figured a close affinity for the Horror might spare her should it become necessary to save another. Long as the group surged forth, however, she was as well to ensure whatever had drawn Erën's eye did not elude them.

 

[Lazule]

((Continuing on))


An immutable truth.

That this world was threaded through with violence. All living things engaged in it, or were subject to it. Here lay the bedrock beneath all interactions: when loved failed, when desperation overcame, when wickedness reigned. The sanctity of personhood was forever fragile, and the ancient fold of violence awaited to claim what shattered pieces fell into its maw. Innocence was a treasure most precious. Lazule knew.

Monsters--these monsters, and all others--were merely an extreme. Each and every one an absolute nexus of violence, distributing it with such wanton disregard that there was but one option left for them. No negotiation could reach them, no reason persuade their thoughts, no tenderness affect their hearts. Monsters. They constituted that aforementioned bedrock in its purest form. And Lazule embodied the one option left for them. For he was the Hunter, the Slayer, and nothing but that.

So when Erën said that he did not think they have seen the last of them, he was right. For Lazule, at least, this was as well another immutable truth. He would see them again, because he could not allow for them to escape. His satchel could yet fit more scalps within, and further recompense could yet be delivered.

The ship was sailing, that blackness trailing thereafter.

Lazule sank down to the deck. Sat there, as wave after wave of steam spilled out through the articulations of his battered armor with soft hisses. His armor, masterfully constructed by Father, could repair itself. In time. But this was time he likely would not have. As well, this lack of time did not serve his need to (literally) cooldown after leveraging so much Luminomancy. Overheated and with a diminishing source of ambient light, his magic would be impotent for a while.

Erën mentioned something. Someone. There.

An unknown woman (Samara) had her sword out.

Lazule, though having missed what Erën had seen, nevertheless said, "When I am able, I will join you forthwith."

Then his helm turned to regard Caliane. "Our perils come in a series without cessation."

He made an attempt, an honest but perhaps insufficient attempt, to mimic Caliane's musical laugh. Humor. Such a thing did not come naturally to him.

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë Samara Asenta Gil'Tyrnin Solcrest

 

[Gil'Tyrnin Solcrest]

As the docks faded into the black of night and they began their journey over water he closed his eyes. His Elven ears honed in on the sound of the water and he brought his hands together infront of himself and prayed to his God, Sol'Nityr the Lord of Light.

As he did so he began to channel energy as some might call it. Others might call it mana or magic. Gil imagined that there was a river of energy surrounding everything and it branched out through all things. He imagined taking those branched and connecting them to himself, allowing the energy to flow onto him, recharging his magic reserves. Luckily he had great magical reserves at his disposal, however it was always a best practice to stay topped off. The night was young after all.

Gil turned on his heels making his way toward Caliane, he stopped at the warrior of light.

"May the light of the All father shine upon you friend. Well met, I am Paladin Gil'Tyrnin of House Solcrest, you fought well." Gil smiled to Lazule.

He then continued his way to Caliane
Gil had a big smile on his face as he approached her "Caliane! Why is it when I find trouble you are always ahead of me, one might expect you to be bringing it!
He chuckled to her. He was honesty glad she was here.

He noticed the woman, his faith viewed the undead with pity, they were sparks trapped between this world and being reunited with The All Father. Vampires were no different, though they drank blood, many vampires had willing victims. They were still just lost sparks and it was his job too send those undead that killed to meet Sol'Nityr. In his mind those undead that killed were no different to him than the vile creatures on the docks.

He smiled to her and nodded.

Gil then made his way to Eren'thiel.

"Eren, it has been far too long. How have you been? What do we know of the situation?"

Eren'thiel Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë Samara Asenta Lazule

 

[Traecon Maxwell]

Crack!

Whatever conversation that was being taken part by all parties would halt, or perhaps stumble in lieu of a smoking, silvery claw latching onto the boat's side. Over the starboard side of this boat, there had been a small trail of smoke, too faint to be seen in the mists now surrounding the ship. A second trail of water as the one missing occupant of the whole group had been clinging on for dear life, having been cast into the waters with the ship's departure.

And he wasn't alone.

Traecon was used to the sensation of his muscles and body on fire in the physical sense. But this agony was one rare and in-between. Salt water was horrid after fighting at a temperature hot enough to nearly cook his own flesh from the inside. Expunging what heat he had left in a mad dash to reach the ship had wreaked havoc on his physical state. Enough he would be feeling the ache for a few hours. He didn't even notice the wood bending beneath his grip, in his exhaustion, he did not care.

He slung himself over and into the ship proper, trailing a body of one creature that had been lucky enough to latch onto him. Not enough to survive the blade however, lodged into its skull to its tailbone down in a twisted spitroast. It fell flat on the deck, twitching erratically inspite of the red-hot blade goring it through.

One hand still in a death grip on the ship's side he rose to his feet, sighing heavily. He had the sense to remove his face mask, coughing up sea water and blood out. He had taken a heavier beating than anticipated -

"There," he shouted with a point, and then moved quickly to ascend one of the stairways up to the quarter deck, and then up another set to the next deck.

Oh for the love of -

He gazed in the direction of the elf's voice, only to confirm what the mage had seen - a figure rushing up the stairs on this vessel. Rest would wait, even though his body violently protested. With a flourish the creature was dislodged from his weapon and off the ship, any blood on the blade itself misting instantly with its still going heat. Latching it onto his back, there was a fiery heat and a surge of energy as he drew the sword's fire to fuel his body.

It also numbed his own senses to his pain, as he rushed to join the elf and flank this intruder or whatever the hell it was. With great strides he ascended the stairs opposite of Erën, passing the woman who was of a similar strategy.

"Flanking."

His steps were uneven, even as he tried to match the elf's pace.

"Your lead, elf."

---

Samara Asenta
Caliane Ruinë
Lazule | Gil'Tyrnin Solcrest

((quite late on my part, mb))

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

The passengers of the ghostly ship sat within the eye of a hurricane. The heat of a battle had passed but there was a sense another was only just beyond the horizon. It didn't help that the sails filled themselves when no air ruffled their hair, and that the waves lapped against the wooden hull creating an eerie whispering sound. Most tried to ignore it and tend to their wounds or get to know their comrades but every now and then someone glanced over their shoulder or up at the mast with a tight-lipped grimace.

Caliane folded her wings tightly against her back to keep them out of everyone's way as they milled about the deck. She took up a position by Lazule when he sank to the floor and begun to idly tend to the fletching on the arrows she had been able to retrieve. Thick, oily blood coated the ends which she wiped carefully with a piece of rag before throwing it over the side of the ship. She had learnt quite early on that these moments of peace were like little gifts and should not be taken lightly. A quick rest, tending to a wound or ensuring a blade was sharpened was the difference between surviving the next battle and not. With Lazule she didn't need to make idle chatter like the others did either and so she was able to concentrate on her work.

When Gil strode over to greet her, however, she raised her emerald eyes and flashed him a heavenly smile . It wasn't the first time someone had made that particular joke. She rubbed at the back of her neck sheepishly and went as if to reply when Eren called their attention to something sinister up at the large spindly wheel that until a moment ago had seemingly been seeing to itself. She rose to her feet uncertainly as others rushed forward then frowned down at Lazule. Most of the deck seemed deserted now.

"I'll stay, I do not think it is a good idea for anyone to be alone on here," her eyes slid to the ominous door where the shadows seemed to grow thicker and thicker...