Completed The Amalgamation

[Lazule]

3KM OUT

(Lie Origine by V-nom)​

Through the fulfillment of an ancient rite, It comes.

From the south and driven as if by destiny straight toward Bhathairk.

And Arethil shook in Its wake.

* * * * *​

A messenger, fatally wounded and utterly terrified, arrived in Bhathairk. He pleaded desperately to speak with the Council of Elders. And to them he delivered this succinct message:

"The city...must be evacuated...It's coming. RUN."

Only these words the messenger could speak before his wounds claimed his life. Nothing of where he had come from, or what manner of peril, or how long Bhathairk had--if indeed his words were true at all. The evening of the day had already grown short upon the messenger's arrival, and the firelights of Bhathairk were appearing around the great orcish stronghold. The Council of Elders were split on how seriously they should regard this human messenger. Was he a madman, or a herald? Other than the dead man's words there was no indication of anything amiss.

Until the dawn of the following day.

Lookouts at the Gates spotted something strange in the receding darkness. Something black. Moving. The Council of Elders were notified, and the Seven all rose from their slumber to see for themselves. A Shaman from the Circle of Shamans had come with them, and, because of the great distance, he used a spell of Far Sight to allow the Seven to peer at this anomaly more closely.

What they saw alarmed (and horrified) them.

The Amalgamation--this was all they could think to call It. A titanic, hulking monster towering thirty meters from the earth. Solid black like the space between the night's stars, save for a sickly yellow outline or aura at the edges of Its massive body. Gargantuan arms which dwarfed Its legs, giving It a simian appearance and gait. Two chilling eyes of icy teal were the only distinguishing feature of Its face. Streams of black steam poured off Its body, waving in the wind as if they were the battle standards of an approaching, insurmountable army; it was as if Arethil herself was fighting to subjugate the unholy creature--this thing which should not be--to the Thread of Mortality.

And this thing, the Amalgamation, was walking slowly and steadily...straight toward the city.

Before the sun had even peeked over the horizon, the Council of Elders decreed that all of Bhathairk be evacuated. Immediately.

* * * * *​

It quickly became apparent that this evacuation was not going fast enough. At first, all ships and boats present in the Bhathairk harbor were ordered to ferry as many people as possible across the Bystra and Wda rivers and return for more. This process, despite the number of vessels available, was woefully inadequate.

So a terrible and desperate new plan was enacted.

All residents of Bhathairk were ordered then to evacuate the city through the Gates themselves. To follow the outside wall either west to the shore of the Bystra or east to the shore of the Wda. There they could only wait on the vessels to return and ferry them. It was the only option left.

Time would need to be bought. With blood. Every guard of Bhathairk was ordered to form up and prepare for battle in front of the Gates. But the Elders feared that even this would not be enough, so an urgent plea was circulated among those awaiting evacuation: everyone--tribesorc, human, elf, man, woman, adolescent, everyone--who could carry a weapon and had the will to use it to protect their home and their loved ones was urged to join the Line formation of guards standing before the Gates.

Thus the Line was formed; thousands arranged into deep battle formations. Living shields. On the Line's flanks, cavalry--those on horseback and those on dire wolves--assembled and awaited orders from their chieftains and overlords of the guard.

And, standing as a vanguard even before the massive Line protecting the Gate and the stream of civilians fleeing the city, were the adventurers, the sellswords, the brave travelers, the wandering wizards, they who had come from afar and found themselves in Bhathairk in its most dire hour of need.

* * * * *​

One of the adventurers in this vanguard was Lazule. She stood among them, they in their meager dozens, the first line of defense for the city of Bhathairk and the innocent people still trapped inside.

Her expression was solid determination. The gaze of her eye relentless upon the Amalgamation, lumbering steadily toward them. The creature was still three kilometers out, yet it loomed large even in this span of distance.

Golden light from the early morning sun cast long shadows from each of the adventurers of the vanguard. A bitter wind blew across the rolling grasslands before the city of Bhathairk. The lock of hair covering Lazule's right eye fluttered in this wind, revealing said eye's cloudy blindness.

She had just come from the Spine. Down from the Monster Hunter's Gilded Vale, where her way of being had been reforged. But this creature pressing upon Bhathairk needed no discernment; Lazule could feel Its wickedness in her bones, curdling her blood, from the mere sight of It. This thing. This Amalgamation. It was a monster.

She breathed in.

Here, in Bhathairk's defense, she could affirm her love for Father.

Here, in Bhathairk's defense, she repent for the sins committed while she had been Broken.

Here, in Bhathairk's defense, she would make her stand. For all that she believed in.

Lazule spoke in general to those around her, never taking her eye off of the distant Amalgamation. She said, "Those idle allow evil to prosper. Righteousness lies solely in action. Holy even are the meek who stand defiant before the wicked. In victory or in death, I shall have no remorse."

A pause.

Stillness.

The Amalgamation approaching in the far distance.

And Lazule lifted her right and swept her left back to front and conjured a Javelin of Light. Her Luminomancy crackled with ferocious magical energy in her grasp.

"Suffer no remorse this day."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

• No strict posting order.
• Feel free to create/use NPCs as you see fit. Bhathairk is a big place.
• A defensive Line holds outside of Bhathairk. An advance group of adventurers stands ahead of them.
• Bhathairk is being evacuated, but the evacuation is not going fast enough. Spots of tension (racial, economic, practical) are stalling the evacuation at the Gates and across the Bystra and Wda Rivers.

• The Amalgamation is walking at a steady pace, from south to north, straight toward the city.
• Every attack damages It. But It can take a lot of punishment.
• Animals (horses, dire wolves, etc.) have a primal fear of The Amalgamation, making mounted combat unreliable at best.
• Pieces blown off of It have a tendency to become Spawns: man-sized, short-lived, frenzied versions of the larger Amalgamation. If these Spawns are violently killed instead of passively evaporating, more damage is done to the Amalgamation.

Good luck, and have fun.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

They had felt it.

All of them.

Throughout all the Shoraes was a stillness, and dread. Something terrible had come... whispers of death...


It must be stopped.

​

No matter how beaten, no matter how broken... the Swords of the Order will ride. Though, broken as they were made their numbers all too few. Thirteen, including himself, had converged at the Portal Stone in the Reach, and now found themselves at Bhathairk. Before them a great ways out marched their foe - a complete abomination. Part of him suspected this creature could very well come to claim all their lives here today and level this city to move on to the next.

But by the light of Tychan he would fight to the very, bitter end.

​

"Those idle allow evil to prosper. Righteousness lies solely in action. Holy even are the meek who stand defiant before the wicked. In victory or in death, I shall have no remorse."

The words reached his ears... a familiar voice. But he did not turn to see.

"First..."

The voices were constant, but certain thoughts reached him with intent, and he heard - as all of his kind do,

"I am listening..."

"What... that thing... I can feel its presence, its hunger... It is unlike anything I have ever felt..."
​

He thought for a moment. There, as he looked out at the beast lumbering toward them from the distance, he imagined what fighting a creature was going to be like. He'd fought with giants, but never of this kind of stature. A thought occurred to him, and he looked back at the mass of soldiers behind them - and the city beyond.

They'll be massacred...

He turned forward and advanced a few paces, slamming down the lid of his helmet and drawing both swords and raising one high. The twelve Swords behind him drew their weapons also, and lingered there for a moment. For the time was nigh - they would bring down righteous judgement upon this mighty foe, or be slain in miserable failure.

[Image Credit: Searching]

 

[Jirou]

"Kaiju."

The ronin stared up at The Amalgamation in stalwart awe. A monster of immense size causing no one to survive its path. He looked towards Erën's troupe as he stated his shock. Jirou had killed monsters of all kind before this day. Demons, spirits, vampires, bugbears.

They all paled.

The sweat from his eyebrow could be tasted by anyone in the vicinity. He couldn't pretend he was not afraid. Anyone who claimed not to be, or wasn't, was a soon to be dead fool.

Lazule's words resonated deep in his heart.

None who would watch would earn his respect this day.

Those who fought he would pray for.

This beast will know no relent.

He drew the blade from its sheathe, and held it horizontally at his eyeline. The blade glowing with pale green energy.

Then, he charged.

"Kuppuku. Kaiju."​

 

[Lazule]

2.5KM OUT​

From around Bhathairk:

Gravity finally claimed a pot improperly set above a cooking fire. The pot fell, spilled what would have been a family's first meal of the day upon the ground. And no one was present to see the embers of the fire fly and land on many things flammable within the home. Smoke began to rise.

A father, frustrated with the wait to evacuate through the Gates and fearing for his family, comforted his little orcish daughter. Told her that everything was going to be alright. And he took up his axe and hurried to be expedited out to join the Line.

Overlord Gratoc, famed Rider of Bhathairk, assembled his Hundred on the western flank of the Line and awaited further orders.

A human "adventurer," feeling no need to die for a city for which he cared nothing, took to looting. He had to be careful, for he had seen with his own eyes another looter beaten to death by the orcish guards/criers patrolling the city and otherwise ushering people toward the Gates.

Zeri, a half-orc girl with no combat training, stood with only her hunting spear at the front of the Line. Simultaneously, she was overwhelmed by the sheer number of fighters assembled to her left, her right, and behind her, and terribly frightened of the mammoth creature in the far distance. But she felt compelled to do the right thing for her home and her family.

One orc, not a guard but a simple leatherworker, had taken it upon himself to quell tensions that had arisen in among the mass of inhabitants still waiting to leave the city. He forcefully separated the elf and the orc who had brawled briefly, admonished both, and called on everyone to stay calm and stand together.

A doomsayer, well-known and "tolerated" in his local community of Bhathairk, went up the enormous snarl (for it could scarcely be called a line) of citizens and urged them to "have mercy upon themselves while they still could." Giving in to his so-called prophetic vision of how this incident would turn out, he retired back to his home, and hung himself.

Ivaserin was a long-lived mercenary and adventurer of an elf. And this, quite simply, was because he had only decided to take up such dangers in the most recent year of his centuries of life. His eyes widened as he recognized something in the adventurers' vanguard. The armored thirteen, they who each wore the colors of the Swords of the Order. The Swords of the Order. Weren't they lost to time? And, as Ivaserin and his group of ten adventurers passed out potions of swiftness to each other, he took heart in knowing that he was in such company as the Order.

The Old Soldier. This was his name, and at last he had found his final battle. The ancient orc donned his scarred armor, his battered helm, and took up his faithful weapon. And he left his home, knelt before his wife's grave and said, "Soon, I come to you." With this he walked toward the Gates and toward the Line and toward his battle-earned death.

* * * * *​

The Amalgamation continued its relentless trek toward Bhathairk. And Lazule let fly the first of her Javelins. A sharp whistling trailed behind the lance of Luminomancy, and it took a full two seconds to reach the target.

A distant explosion, barely visible, as it hit the Amalgamation. And the massive creature seemed bothered not at all, even as a miniscule and indiscernible piece of it had blown off and tumbled to the ground below.

Lazule's eye narrowed. That piece...it...began moving all on its own. A tiny little black companion to the colossus. A strange and concerning quality of the beast before them.

"This is suicide," said a balding man in chainmail among the adventurer's vanguard. "This is fucking suicide. I'm not dying for this damn city." And with that, he fled, heading east to the shore of the Wda river to join the civilians huddled there in the hope that he would be safe.

But not all felt this way.

A single man, Jirou, broke from the vanguard and did not retreat toward the rivers. No, he ran toward the fiend by himself.

The fire inside Lazule's chest did not merely warm at the sight of this, but alighted with the fury and the love of all Mankind. If this man had such bravery dwelling within him, to charge straight toward the Thing bearing down on all the innocent souls behind him, then Lazule ought resolve to give of herself everything she had to offer in this battle. Every last spark of magic she could contribute. And thus her iron will was locked in place.

Stand. Or die.

Suffer no remorse this day.

And she conjured and launched another Javelin of Light. Another. And another. And the first bead of sweat formed upon her brow.

* * * * *​

Overlord Gratoc rode up and down the formation his Hundred. His elite Riders of Bhathairk. They and their mounts bred and raised by the sons and daughters of Mhartoc himself.

He flashed his lance out toward the Amalgamation. Toward the single man charging the span of grassland between himself and the beast.

"See there, men! Is that not a fine charge?"

"HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU," his Hundred cried in unison. A deep utterance, like a powerful beat from a gigantic bass drum of war, vibrating the very inside of all one's bones.

"Shall we join him, men! Shall we charge this beast which dares come to our home? Shall we give our lives if destiny so demands? Shall we probe what this beast is capable of, such that our brave fighting tribesorcs gathered here will see! Will know! And will then conquer this abominable fiend!"

"HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!"

"THEN RIDE WITH ME, MEN!"

And Overlord Gratoc and his Hundred (armed with warbows and lances) launched into a charge of their own. Breaking from the Line. Dashing past the adventurers' vanguard. Coming along and surpassing Jirou on his right as Javelins of Light from Lazule streaked by over all their heads.

While Gratoc and his Hundred were still very far removed from the gargantuan beast, already many of their mounts showed signs of anxiety. Slowing down. Trying to avert course. Whimpering and snarling and neighing nervously.

The Amalgamation continued forward. Two and half kilometers out, and closing. Its frigid eyes upon the city.

* * * * *​

Khorvayne Contra sat--alone--with her legs crossed on a tree stump near the shore of the Bystra river. Her back to the long receded darkness in the west, her shadow like a slender finger pointing toward the very doom of the world.

From far off she could see the light-based magic someone in the vanguard was casting at her darling Amalgamation. She could see the lone warrior charging, a portion of the cavalry soon joining him.

She leaned forward. Entwined her fingers in front of her breast. Watched with keen interest the lone warrior and his singular charge.

The Amalgamation would be searching, as was Its destiny. But It was also hungry.

And to It, single beacons shined brightest of all.

Xyrdithas Jirou

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Through the holes in his helmet's visor, it was like a tunnel directed right towards the gnarled thing that approached them. Still he stood, fixed as a pillar out on the plain and behind him so too stood the Swords, unstirred. Even as Jirou stormed forward and the riders charged forth, and the javelins of light hurled through the air...

They remained...

Even a breath was hard to see from them - as though they'd been frozen still with fear.

But as the beast drew nearer to them, an aura became visible. It wisped up around them like small plumes of blue fog, and then whirled around each one as they harnessed their magic.

Soon, when the creature was but a short bit closer...

They would unleash their might.

Jirou Lazule

 

[Jirou]

The javelins hurled through the air with a sheen that would rival the heavens. A smile lit across Jirou's face as they flew. Chunks of the beast falling off and forming faster moving smaller beasts. No fear could be found within Jirou. Vigor, if anything. The absolute rush of a battle he could be killed in. So many had fallen to his blade. To think that this thing would be able to withstand it filled Jirou with nothing but excitement.

But it wouldn't.

Jirou was determined that he could kill this gargantuan fiend on his own if needed. To think otherwise was to fail, in his head. The only option was victory. The beast was still a ways out itself, but its companions would reach him much sooner.

Then he was met with the Hundred. They rode past him with absolute ferocity and matched determination. He could only smile wider as his own sweat dripped into his teeth. He felt nothing but the coming rush of battle. To fight a monster like this was a privilege. He'd never let the others know that he felt that way.

Killing a man was easy. And often tragic. There were many lives he'd take that he fought hard to not regret.
Today however, he protected all that stood behind him. The other warriors, the scared villagers.

THIS was a reason to fight.
THIS was a reason to kill.
THIS was a reason to die.

Xyrdithas Lazule

 

[Lazule]

1.3KM OUT​

The Amalgamation with Its simian gait strode ever closer to Bhathairk. To Its destiny forged hundreds of years ago.

Down below. Creatures riding other creatures. Fabrics of emotion interwoven from the gathered mass of them.

Another Javelin of Light struck the Amalgamation. It did not flinch. It did not react or show pain. It did not notice another small piece blown off of Its body, this piece hitting the grassland below and rapidly dissolving in a burst of black steam instead of becoming a Spawn.

Those creatures riding other creatures. They charged Its fists. Its feet.

The Amalgamation stopped. Raised up Its massive left fist high into the air.

* * * * *​

Overlord Gratoc's Hundred had become fifty. Half of his Riders lost complete control of their mounts, and either jumped off or were carried far and away by them.

Gratoc himself struggled mightily to keep his own trusted steed from faltering. His legs and his abs burned from exertion to keep his horse charging straight at the Amalgamation. There was nothing else he could do save continue on with the men he had left. The fighters of the Line needed to see this thing's capabilities. See if, perhaps, it had a weakness.

And Gratoc smiled ferociously. His life was forfeit. But Bhathairk, the great Orcish stronghold, would live on.

"CHARGE! CHARRRRRRGE! DO NOT STOP!" Gratoc commanded as he and his fifty closed on the Amalgamation.

The Amalgamation then raised Its left fist up.

And, with a quickness that was absolutely horrifying for a creature of Its enormous size, It swept a great hand down and rent the very earth to strike at Gratoc's fifty. A huge plume of dirt was thrown into the air, a horrendous shower of rocks and debris sailed up and then down in terrible arcs, horses and orcs and humans alike--in whole or in pieces--were sent spiraling from the raw impact of Its hand or the sheer force of wind in the strike's wake. Faintly, a pink mist of blood hidden amongst the devastation.

Gratoc's fifty had, in a single strike, become Gratoc's fifteen.

The rest were slain by the stomp of the Amalgamation's left foot, and by the dozens of Spawns which were gathered about the beast like pilot fish about a shark. Gratoc, before his death, managed to lance one of these Spawn before it dissipated.

At the Spawn's slaying, the Amalgamation let out Its cry, a chilling sound like nothing of Arethil: a baleful horn, bloodcurdling and shrill, echoing through a foreboding fog.

And the Amalgamation continued forward as another Javelin of Light struck It.

* * * * *​

Forward, until, a kilometer and a third out from Bhathairk, It took notice of the lone warrior. Very close, and charging.

The Amalgamation stopped again. Another Javelin of Light exploded on Its bulk.

It did not raise Its fist to strike at him. The sickly yellow outline of Its body shimmered, and a thin pulse of magic visible to the naked eye--akin to the shockwave of an explosion--issued forth. The Pulse radiated out a kilometer's distance in all directions.

And its purpose was singular: to inspire a vision of one's greatest fear. Make it palpable. Real.

The Amalgamation did not and could not yet know if the lone warrior had been affected. But still, leaning forward on Its mountainous fists, the Amalgamation brought Its "face" and Its frigid teal eyes down and down and down and within arm's reach of the lone warrior.

None of the Spawns around the creature's massive hulking frame attacked. The Amalgamation looked at him.

Just looked at him.

Deeply.

* * * * *​

Lazule's skin was turning red. Blisters and rashes began to break out more and more, further marring her skin with each new use of Luminomancy. Her internal heat was rising, rising. Visible steam, much like one might normally see on someone who had run a great distance and worked up considerable body heat on a cold day, floated up from her brow, leaked out from her collar and her gloves. Damp patches of sweat coated her robe, her pants. Her eye was heavy with exhaustion.

But she could not stop. She still had more to give. Those myriad innocents behind her, streaming out from Bhathairk, could not; the bravest among them may stand defiant in the face of death, but they did not have the strength to slay this monster. She did. And she had to. No matter the cost.

She could not stand idle and let it happen again. Let another Gordon happen. She had stood idle as he was fatally wounded by dire wolves; this on account of having lost her way during her Breaking. Remorse, stark and undeniable for this. And while she could not undo the wrong she had willingly allowed upon Gordon, she could find a measure of penance in giving of herself here. Where she had failed Gordon, she would not fail Bhathairk.

Lazule winced and raised her hand to conjure yet another Javelin.

When the Pulse struck. The Pulse came just short of reaching the Line outside of Bhathairk, but the adventurers' vanguard, standing some five hundred meters from the Gate, were well within the Pulse's range. Some of the adventurers resisted the Amalgamation's Pulse. Lazule, however, did not:

Her vision black. Father, then, emerging from that darkness. He looked down at her. Silent and grave disappointment.

"Father?" Lazule said.

He said nothing.

"Father. Speak to me."

He said nothing. He looked down at her as if she were...a vile creature. A monster.

Lazule looked at her hands. Blood. The never-ending blood of all Mankind, pouring from her palms and overflowing through her fingers. Faces, reflected in the blood. The faces of those she had murdered.

For, somehow, she had become that which she hunted.

"Father," she said. Her voice hollow with horror. Weeping. "I...I still love you, Father. Do not. Please. Do not."

He did not listen. Father drew his sword and leveled it against her neck. Swung to behead her.​

The vision crawled away from her eyes and her mind as quickly as it had scurried in. And Lazule was down on her hands and knees, yelling out in pain and sorrow, when Arethil proper came back to her. She stopped, startled, and saw many of the adventurers in similar states of emotional agony.

Less than a kilometer away, the Amalgamation was staring down the lone warrior Jirou.



(((If your character is affected by the Pulse, describe their greatest fear)))

Jirou Xyrdithas

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

And yet there they stood, poised. The energies around them had now long began to take shape around them. The sword stretched high above Erën's glowed with an intense light. Each of the twelve behind him now mimicked him. Some carried swords, others polearms and lances, and a couple were master archers. Each of their weapons were imbued with the great crystal - as were they themselves - and through it their powers were forged together, and they would fight as one.

For even as the great beast of catastrophe drudged closer and closer...
...so too did their power grow.

United, in singular thought. In one accord. One aim.
​

High above, a shadow began to take shape. Dark clouds formed where none were meant to be, and they began to spin, and whirl together. The wind rose, and dust and sand and dirt was taken up in it.

Blue lightning split across the sky, and thunder roared and shook the ground.

And the Swords now all radiated brilliantly, and the energies present in the sky were also present about them in a crackling and glimmering display.

And as one without a hint of hesitation between, they advanced forward. Each step was in unison, even every breath. Even as the great monster lashed out, and even now leaned down to peer at Jirou they proceeded.

Even as the thoughts of fear invaded in: Sharyrdaes, broken and overrun; dark demons pouring out from their home into Arethil; the whole of the world consumed by their own failures. His daughter... changed by the evils of those mists... though he knew it wasn't so... was it? Could she have...

No!​

Even those fears were nothing to them here, joined as one through the Soul Forge. They had overcome much, and they would overcome this. While others fell to their knees at the plagiarised visions of their fears they refused.

By our hand... this thing, will know true fear.

Lazule Jirou​

 

[Jirou]

Jirou stood before the hulking abomination as it peered down through him. The Hundred were falling left and right. Whether or not deaths like this were expected or not did not mean they weren't tragic. He could not let his feelings overwhelm him right now.

He had a behemoth to tame.

Jirou approached one of the smaller creatures with a furious roar. About to strike it down where it stood.

Then, the pulse hit.

The ronin stood frozen the moment it took place. His eyes locked on The Amalgamation as it stared back at him. He saw and felt rain come down. In an instance. The sky was dark but there had been no signs of precipitation. Soon after, sakura petals. Falling alongside the rain in a gorgeous dance of shimmering pink.

He felt the notion to look down from the beautiful sky. Something pulled him to. To look towards the smaller creatures.

"No." He gasped. A look of horror and defeat simultaneously coming over him. "No, no, no, no."

"...Yuuna?"​

The ronin could not believe his eyes.
His lover, right before him once again. Beyond all odds her spirit had finally found her way to him. She smiled at him as she always had once their conditioning had shattered from their days as shinobi. Jirou fell to his knees, sobbing. Yuuna said nothing, but approached him slowly. His blade had fallen to the ground and his hands were extended to her. For her embrace.

But it would never come.

While she made her way to him with that Sunflower smile, she was grabbed by three men. All Emerald Kiss shinobi.

"NO!" ​

Jirou cried. But he could not move. He watched as they pinned her to the ground. Beat in her head. Stripped her. Abused and violated her. The ronin unable to act for reasons he could not fathom. Just to watch, and cry, and suffer. To relive what he had that day. To see her treated this way again.

The only thing he'd ever feared.

"Jirou." A soft female voice called.

"Jirou, my loveliest orchid. Don't believe them."

A flash through his brain as he looked up. Yuuna's voice did not come from the illusion of torture he witnessed. It came from behind him. The soft glow of a spirit wrapping her arms around him. He grabbed at her hand as quick as he could muster, turning, and seeing the actual spirit of Yuuna holding him. The ronin's rough exterior immediately faded as he wasted no time burying himself in her chest and sobbing relentlessly.

"I'm sorry I waited so long to come see you again. I've watched you for a long time."

"Stay with me."

"I cannot do that, my darling."

"I know, but it's the only thing I want. I would die today if it meant I could stay with you."

The spirit of Yuuna lifted Jirou's head and held his face in her hands.

"Do not speak like that. I told you to do one thing. Live. Live as fiercely as you can. You will not break that promise to me and you are not weaker than this monsters tricks. I will lend you my power, my beautiful orchid. And you will break It. Alongside all these brave souls you will break this monster."

Jirou stared into Yuuna's eyes for what felt like an eternity, though he only had seconds at best to comprehend what was happening. Her spirit kissed him deeply on the lips and her form began to encompass him in a bright white glow. As they embraced, Yuuna began to fade. As did the illusion of her. The ronin rose to his feet. This was the same as that time with Masahiko, Yuuna's father, who lent him the strength to avenge her. Now Yuuna lent him her spiritual strength, her love, her vigor.

The ronin did not wipe his tears. He turned with determination in his eyes and reached into his kimono. He revealed his kusarigama and began to swing the blade while he stared into The Amalgamations form. Jirou was now emanating strength he'd not before presented, or ever felt in his life.

He seemed naught but a shadow. He screamed towards his foe.

"I AM JIROU, THE ORCHID. ON THIS DAY, YOU WILL MEET DEATH, BEHEMOTH." ​

 

[Lazule]

0.7KM OUT​

The Amalgamation nor the Spawns around It attacked Jirou as he suffered his vision. It did not move or react when Jirou brandished his blade. When he called out his name and proclaimed that It would meet Its death. It only stared down at him with those arctic eyes. A deep gazing. A basking.

And, faintly, a scent filled the air around the Amalgamation: black tea.

(Far away, on the tree stump by the Bystra river, Khorvayne casually snapped her fingers.)

The Amalgamation looked up from Jirou and toward the city of Bhathairk, much in the manner of one who has dispelled a distraction and remembered a pressing duty. It rose to the full height of Its massive arms and legs and started once more upon Its course. It strode over and past Jirou as a man might stride over and past an insect.

And, the moment the Amalgamation broke Its focus from Jirou and began toward Bhathairk, the Spawns all snapped their heads toward him. A dozen of them still, some having evaporated during the time of Jirou's vision. Man-sized creatures resembling the greater Amalgamation Itself, they were fast and vicious, and would seek to brutally beat their victims to death or tear them apart. From varying distances, they charged Jirou directly. This, as the shade of being under the Amalgamation's towering body left and the sun of the dawn graced the man once more.

* * * * *​

The Amalgamation gave no notice to the sudden clouds swirling overhead nor the blue lightning nor the thunder. It gave no notice to the Javelins of Light striking It once more, nor the spells unleashed by other mages and wizards and sorcerers gathered in the adventurer's vanguard. Sometimes the spells broke off pieces of It, sometimes they did not. Sometimes those pieces morphed into Spawns on the ground, sometimes they did not.

But, as the Amalgamation drew closer to the city and thus more presently closer to the adventurer's vanguard, It did begin to notice something.

A gathering of Thirteen.

* * * * *​

"It's useless!" cried one of the College mages of the vanguard. "We have to retreat!"

Ivaserin, watching in awe as the Thirteen of the Order marched forward in perfect synchronicity, turned his attention to the mage and--anger seeping into his voice--yelled, "And go where? Back behind the Line? The Line made up of blacksmiths and cobblers and fishermen? And after that? Back behind the civilians?"

"This isn't our fight!" the mage shouted. Pleaded, almost. "This is Bhathairk's fight!"

"LOOK AT THEM!" he said, whipping a hand out toward the marching Thirteen. Ivaserin, scared to very core, couldn't believe he was saying what he was saying. Yet he was. "This isn't their home either, and yet here they are! If Gerra's Mad Dog Jerik came back to finish the College, would you not want men such as they fighting for your home?"

The College Mage, utterly broken, gave no reply. He only shook his head. And he, along with a dozen others, turned and fled back toward the Line.

Ivaserin, frightened to the point of tears, turned back to face his own group of ten adventurers. None left. They all nodded in silent agreement.

And Ivaserin, a shaking hand holding the potion of swiftness, took the first step forward with his group, following in the wake of the Thirteen.

* * * * *​

The Amalgamation stopped Its advance seven hundred meters out from the city. Its head and Its eyes turned down from Bhathairk to the Thirteen marching toward It.

Again, Its cry, the only analogous sound that of a horn whose deep note was felt more by the insides of one's bones than one's ears.

And, again, the yellow aura around its body shimmered. Another Pulse, this one on account of the creature's proximity reaching the Line and even a sizable portion of the civilians streaming out of the Gates.

But this Pulse's purpose was different than what had come before: it was to inspire a vision of something or someone loved. To nourish this love until it warmed the heart with its realness.

And the Amalgamation stared down at the Thirteen which had approached It.

* * * * *​

After recovering from the first Pulse, Lazule immediately began to launch more Javelins.

And her organs now baked inside of her body. Her blood burned in her arteries and in her veins. She was no longer sweating, for she no longer had the capacity to do so. Her skin had over the course of all her castings had turned from its normal fair color to the scorched red of one severely burned by flame. Her knees shook with weakness. Her breathing came as if she had suffered twin arrow wounds through her lungs.

Every new Javelin she conjured served to kill her further.

But she had to keep fighting.

Look, there. The armored Thirteen. Marching forward. Inspiring others forward as well.

If they were willing to give of themselves, then so must she.

In victory or in death.

Lazule stood up straight. Panting and gasping and her exposed skin now clearly steaming. She raised her right hand up and manifested another Javelin and threw it and missed the Amalgamation completely. The Javelin streaked by the massive creature and sailed for three kilometers until it dissipated harmlessly in the distance.

Then the second Pulse hit her. And its vision she could not resist:

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.​

Lazule had her hands about her cheeks, laughing with joy, as the vision cleared.



(((If your character is affected by the second Pulse, describe something/someone they love)))

Jirou Xyrdithas

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Forward.

Forward.​

The sounds of battle raged about. Javelins of light flew through the air, strikes of lightning magic, fireballs, and all else. But little they did to deter the great abomination. It rose, and advanced. Jirou was left in its wake, and monsters descended upon him. His fate was his own for the time, as they were not yet ready to strike.

It whirled and roared above, the maelstrom of their might gathered into a singular force, a storm of fury and righteousness. It continued to gather, growing brighter at its crackling and obscured center. And the Thirteen still advanced, their beats unwavering.

As Erën marched, he held the sword high. Closer they drew, and closer it did too. It was the center of his vision, the point of his focus. But as he advanced his vision became unclear. The surround shimmered, and began to change shape - the creature dissipated before him into a wisp of nothing, and all around him became dark. And now, just he continued to march forward surrounding but nothing but a twisted abyss of black.

Spoiler: And he saw...

He knew it wasn't real... he could feel them: his brethren, just there as they had always been...

But as before when their fears were joined as one, and repelled, so did the abomination attempt to fool them again. And as before - they were one. Around him, the forests took shape and the fauna began to grow. The sun shone brightly overhead, and as he marched forward the tree parted and he entered into the valley.

The river ran through in its glistening beauty, and beyond the holy city stood with its back to the rock - the Celestial Tower looming high overhead. Birds sang, and deer danced, and all around was like paradise. Like it had been once before...

And there as he continued into the valley and approached the river, he removed his helmet and dropped down to one knee and drank from it. He looked up to the city, and before it coming toward him a singular figure began to take shape. They ran toward him, long blond hair flailing behind...

He abruptly stood, and made his way to the nearby bridge of stone which he hastily traversed across. On the other side she came into view - just meters ahead. He knelt, and stretched his arms wide, and into his arms she ran - young as the day he last saw her.

Ellias. His daughter.

He laughed as he held her, and rose to his feet with her in his embrace.

"I've missed you," she giggled in his ear...

They'd frozen as still as statues, but still the light remained. The storm raged. Sword held high.

His breath trembled. In a blink she was gone, and the joy he felt... the warmth in his heart, that had all but died those many years ago, once more faded...

Now, all there was, was pain.

With tears ran down his face, determination was reclaimed, and in a singular motion each of the Swords drew down their weapons...

Light erupted brightly through the whirling clouds and descended down onto the Thirteen, and there it gathered - and then once more at sprang forth from the elves. It moved with a furious power, tearing the ground beneath it and ripping the very air it sailed through. It rose, and raced toward the abomination's very center.
​

Lazule Jirou

 

[Jirou]

"ENOUGH."
​

The ronin called as he swung his chain and sickle with enormous ferocity. The second pulse struck him, but he stood steadfast this time. Yuuna's strength and his own will forcing the illusion to disperse as soon as it came.

"I WILL NOT BE SUBJECT TO YOUR FOOLERY ANY LONGER." ​

There was naught but rage left. Rage at what it made him see. Rage at its cowardice for using illusions to deter its foes. Jirou refused to be its damned puppet. He was here, in the front for a reason.

To make this beast kneel.
​

The blade of his kusarigama flew out, striking the first shadow fiend through the chest with impossible precision, killing it instantly. He reeled it back as the other few monsters came for his head. He had long awaited this.

There were twelve of them. Four on him at the moment. Let the dance begin:

Jirou flung the metal weight, the opposite end of his chain and sickle, and it wrapped around the neck of one beast. He pulled taut, keeping it motionless where it stood. One above him struck down with talons. It was caught by the sickle in his other hand. Not alone deflected, but thrown back to the ground and on its back like it was naught but paper. He sprinted towards the fiend he had wrapped in his chain.

He used their locked in place form as a springboard, rising above the creature until the chain was tight on its neck again. His arms thrown forward, bringing the creature over his own head and slamming it into another. Only one dead, but they now knew who they'd made the mistake of facing.

That same teal energy from his sword began to resonate in the chain, and then the weight, and then the sickle. He spun the sickle around the top of his head yet again, and once they all stood back up, he threw it in a large covering circle. It pierced through the neck of all four, their forms dissipating as they hit the ground.

The exorcist picked his dropped shikomizue from the ground and wrapped his kusarigama around himself, catching the sickle before it hit his chest and locking it in with the chain.

Now, switching to his sword, he did not rush any longer.

He simply walked directly towards the behemoth, blade drawn.

 

[Lazule]

0.5KM OUT​

With each Spawn that Jirou felled, immediately at the moment of its death, a new burst of black steam erupted from somewhere on the Amalgamation's humongous body. A leaking away of the essence which held the Amalgamation together, permanent damage done for the few seconds these vents were ripped open upon the slaying of associated Spawns.

And this was not the only damage done.

The Amalgamation had stood and gazed down at the Thirteen in the same manner as it had at Jirou. Gazed and basked and simply observed in a docile manner and all around the beast a new scent filtered faintly into the air during this: cherries.

But the Thirteen recovered from the Pulse's vision. Their weapons glowed fiercely and they let loose a bolt of powerful Light that slammed into the Amalgamation's chest; It had made no effort to move or dodge, such was the deepness of Its reverie.

Said reverie was shattered in an instant. The Amalgamation let out Its earth-trembling cry--that baleful horn--as It was struck. A rain of black and broken pieces spilled out from It, like a man's entrails after his gut had been split. Half of these pieces twitched and shifted and morphed to become Spawns, a veritable platoon of them rising up from the ground.

And, despite the vents of black steam erupting throughout Its form and pieces of Its body that had only just fallen from It, the Amalgamation appeared at first glance to still be whole. Sharp eyes might note that a change, near indiscernible, had taken place. Where once the Amalgamation stood all of thirty meters tall...now It was twenty-eight. To repair Its form required a shifting of Its eldritch mass. Its finite eldritch mass.

The Amalgamation set Its eyes on Bhathairk once more.

And It started forward.

One giant step at a time. Toward the Thirteen and Ivaserin and the group of adventurers charging forth into melee.

And here Its behavior changed. For each step, a sweep of Its hand, a stomp of Its foot, a slam of Its fist, all in an effort to kill those around It.

* * * * *​

Some of the wizards and mages and archers and crossbowmen of the adventurer's vanguard opened fire. Some lost their nerve as did the College Mage earlier and fled, running past The Old Soldier as the ancient orc strode up and toward the battle awaiting him.

Ivaserin and his group all drank their potions of swiftness. The other melee adventurers would make do without them.

And soon, more souls would join Gratoc and his fallen riders.

* * * * *​

Herman Lightwater, from a small town southeast of Elbion and firstborn son of the Lightwater family, who dreamed of raising enough coin to purchase his father's farm from the noble who owned the land, was struck in the head by debris from the Amalgamation striking at the earth and killed instantly. He had loosed one arrow.

Millicent Kerz, from the fair-sized town of Raddica along the southern coast of the Taagi Baara Steppes, whose quest to find her missing sister had brought her to Bhathairk three days ago, was crushed by the foot of the Amalgamation after slaying two Spawns.

Brock Fairfield, from a cottage in the mountains of the Spine, who had come to mourn the passing of his orcish great-grandmother with the rest of his extended family in Bhathairk, was killed when the palm of the Amalgamation's sweeping hand caught him and splattered his body as a man's hand would splatter an insect.

Ayanos the masked rogue, whose origins were a mystery and whose intentions were unclear, was nevertheless torn apart by four Spawns at once when her mobility was hampered by an injury. Her scream was caught short as her head separated from her neck.

And The Old Soldier, having slain ten Spawns himself and slashing deeply into one of the Amalgamation's giant fists, was knocked off of his feet by the force of one of the Amalgamation's sweeping strikes, half-crushed by Its foot, and finished by other Spawns. He perished with a serene smile as his final act upon Arethil.

* * * * *​

Lazule recovered from the vision, the euphoric love draining out of her and the task at hand regaining primacy in her mind.

The armored Thirteen. The lone warrior. They were fighting the beast, the Spawns. They were giving their all. And while some around Lazule fled, other adventurers now advanced to join the Thirteen and the lone warrior in the fight.

And they were dying. They were fighting bravely and they were dying. They had chosen to stand against the wicked in defense of the innocent.

And so would she.

Give. Everything.

Lazule grimaced and stood up straight. Here, now, the affirmation of her reforged way of being. She loved Father for having created her, but she hated him for the instillment of the mantras which robbed her of agency. Caliane had shown her the way to freedom, to breaking Father's stark black-and-white worldview and holding both these feelings within herself simultaneously. Her mantras to her were now guidance, but not immutable law. Choice rested now in her hands.

And Lazule choose to be here. To stand in Bhathairk's defense. To give of herself until she had nothing left, for each Javelin she launched could save the lives of countless innocents behind her by bringing the monster down that much sooner.

This Thing. This Amalgamation. It must be destroyed. This was not the decree of Father and his mantras. This was Lazule's own.

Lazule conjured another Javelin. Launched it. And her liver ruptured.

Lazule conjured another Javelin. Launched it. And one of her kidneys burst into flame inside of her.

Lazule conjured another Javelin. Launched it to strike a Spawn leaping at one of the Thirteen and slaying it. And her left lung popped open from the expanding pressure of hot air within.

Lazule conjured another Javelin--

And at the moment of manifestation of this fourth Javelin the Amalgamation struck her with a sweeping strike of Its massive hand and her legs, hit directly by the smallest finger, were sheared off and the Javelin which she held in her hand exploded as she was unable to contain its magic and in this explosion the whole of her right arm was obliterated in an instant and a quarter of her skull was blown apart and the hair vaporized and her clouded eye falling loose of its housing within the socket and then lost in the great gale of the Amalgamation's swing.

Lazule's body went spiraling through the air. Fifty meters. One hundred meters distant from where she had stood. She hit the ground and slid through the dirt until at last she came to rest on her back.

There she lay. Everything below the bottom of her rib cage gone, her right arm gone, only three quarters of her skull intact. All the blood from her deathly wounds caught fire soon after exposure to the air and thin steam rose as this fire from the blood turned to ash and scattered to the grasses beneath her ravaged body.

A moment passed.

Then, in defiance of her horrific injuries, she meekly raised her left hand. Pointed it at the distant Amalgamation. Tried to manifest more of her magic. Light crackled about her palm. Then dissipated. She tried again. And failed.

Her arm fell limp to the earth.

She lay still.

The fire burned silently in her chest.

Xyrdithas Jirou

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

Erën watched as their volley made its course, and struck dead on their target. The shockwave met them with a flurry of wind and dust, and he shielded his eyes from the debris. But, he did not even need see the result to know that it was far from the victory that they had hoped for. Through the rolling dust around them the creatures came, gnashing and clawing. Creatures of darkness.

The Swords charged forward, and met them in a flurry, sweeping over the beasts like the wake of a large ship over smaller waves. They eradicated them.

The first wave at least.

The Amalgamation's tremendous limbs it lashed out at them, and in desperate leaps to safety they were made separate - smaller groups of a now distant whole. But he, Eren was alone, caught up in the wake of the beasts mighty swing he was pulled a great distance from the others - but far from out of the fight. He regained his composure mid air, and completed a safe landing only to rebound and charge straight forth at the monster. But first, there were several others to dispatch.

He weaved left, and swept on sword across, leaning hard to thrust the second sword deep into another creature. He wrenched both swords free flexing his arms across his chest spilling much of these strange creatures' essence. He erupted with blue light, and moved forward with great speed to cross his swords across another pair of the monster's spawn.

As the dust settled more, he saw the encroaching blackness. He was surrounded, by a number too many to count at a glance. He clashed with one, and slew it with haste, whirling around to slay yet another with dust and dirt and blood flung about. He wrestled with them for a time. And just then as one leapt at him to strike from behind, surely finishing him, one of the javelins came soaring through the air. He beheld it closely as it flew past them with the impaled creature along with it.

And he knew.

Light bearer.

He summoned his strength and from him a shockwave of energy erupted, blowing the nearby creatures to pieces. He looked, and he saw her. Lazule. He should have known. Before he had time to assess her state, the Amalgamation attacked again, and while Erën was still well enough to evade it Lazule had not. He watched in horror as she was struck, and with his eyes he saw clearly where she came to rest.

Spoiler: ...not her too...

It all closed in around him...

… a whirling nether of darkness, and horrid screams...

… "this is where they go... father... this is where we all went" ...

… "Elan the Brave... haha, more like Elan the Expendable"...

…"Where were you Erën…? I couldn't protect her, but, weren't you suppose to do that?"...

"WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME!?"

He'd hardly even realized it, but he'd already began running toward his fallen friend. He fought his way past the monsters, struck them down with unknown precision and a clarity never before experienced. They seemed slow to him. But even after he'd made it past the bulk of them and was in a full sprint he failed to realize he'd been struck... several times. Worn out leather and armor was only so tough, and it a been compromised and failed in places, and he bled. He tired.

While the other twelve fought on valiantly, sustaining injury and persisting anyway, Erën ran.

Not away. No... he would destroy every last fucking thing on this battlefield.

But he simply could not leave her out there like this. He had to make sure she made it out of here, even if he did not.

Jirou Lazule

 

[Lazule]

The grave wounds of Lazule's body, the entirety of her ragged abdomen and her missing right arm and the fist-sized crater in her skull, smoked and burned with fire and ash collected on the ground below as what blood remained vacated ceaselessly and went through its strange transformation.

Her eye focused on Erën when he approached.

With a great and readily apparent struggle, she raised her left hand to her chest--just above her heart--and tapped with her finger.

Once.

Twice.

And her hand stilled.

Her eye unfocused.

The fire burned silently in her chest.

Xyrdithas

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

He drew near to her, sliding to a halt by her side. The helmet was tossed. The swords sheathed. He knelt, and hesitated on how in all Arethil he was going to help her now. His eyes met with hers, a clear look of dismay across his faces.

With a great and readily apparent struggle, she raised her left hand to her chest--just above her heart--and tapped with her finger.

He saw, and then his eyes went back to hers - now seemingly lifeless.

"No..." he uttered, little more than a whisper.

His eyes shot back to her chest. Her hand laid limply over her heart, and just below a smoldering flame where innards should be. He didn't know what Lazule was, not anymore, not fully, but he knew she was just. His eyes looked over toward the battle. Some straggling monsters approached from a distance... but still they approached, lumbering along as they did.

He looked back down, and his eyes glowed brightly. An aura was about him, simmering off his forms like small plumes of rolling blue smoke. He truly had no idea if what he was about to attempt would have any effect. He didn't know if it would kill him. He'd seen Te'leis do this many times before, and through his connection with her he felt he understood enough.

He grasped her hand, and held it tightly and pressed it against her chest, and with all his effort he tried to impart his strength unto her. All of it.

"No!"
​

Lazule

 

[Lazule]

Lazule's body gave a jolt, and her eye refocused on him.

A flash of recognition.

"Erën," she said. Meek and breathless. The body she inhabited pushed well beyond its human limits. She couldn't feel anything. Even Erën before her retained only enough clarity in her eye to just barely discern, all else rough shapes and colors and vagueness.

I am sorry, Lena. For the expenditure of your body; even with it I failed to slay the Beast. I could not give enough.

Distantly, the Amalgamation thrashed at the adventurers.

Lazule knew she did not have much time to explain, yet this was at odds with everything she did need to explain. She had to be succinct and miss nothing. It was her only hope, lest she be entombed in Lena's body until the Fire faded.

"Listen. I am not human. This body is dying, but I am not. I am a Life Fire, a blue-green flame inside this body, where the heart should be." Shortness of breath stifled her. She recovered. Said, "Take off my breastplate. My robe. There is a plate. Bolted into this body's chest. I am beneath. Encased inside the chamber."

A weak squeeze of his hand.

"Please. I cannot be exposed to the air without protection. I cannot speak without a body or the aid of one versed in fire magic. Take me to..."

Shortness of breath once again. Lena's body was reaching a critical loss of blood and thus functionality.

"Take me to...the Spine...Father..."

Her eye unfocused. Focused. Unfocused.

The fire burned silently in her chest.

Xyrdithas

 

[Jirou]

Jirou could hear it everywhere. The throes of death.

The ultimately futile effort that the many would put in just so that the few could succeed. The horrid waste of life that always came with a battle of this magnitude. It burned him. He hated it. He could feel how Yuuna hated it too. Their rage combining. The power emanating from him was becoming palpable. This destruction needed to stop. The Amalgamation looked at him once.

He would force it to look at him again.

Jirou set the back side of his sword in his mouth, unraveling his chain and sickle once more. He wound it up, let the pale green spirit energy pulse through it, and launched it. Not as an attack, but as a movement, He threw it as hard as he could and wrapped it around one of the fingers of The Amalgamation. Its slow pace still provided him with very little time. He put the blade end of the kusarigama in the ground and stomped on it, planting it in the ground and allowing the chain to be taut. He leapt upon the chain and in full sprint charged the beasts hand.

Once atop, he kept moving. Charging for its head. He leapt once more, drawing the sword from his mouth back to his hand.

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO IGNORE ME, KAIJU."
​

He dove his blade straight into the beasts eye.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

The moment she came too, he froze.

"Listen. I am not human. This body is dying, but I am not...

A weak squeeze of his hand.

"Please. I cannot be exposed to the air without protection. I cannot speak without a body or the aid of one versed in fire magic. Take me to...

Take me to...the Spine...Father..."

He shook his head in disbelief, a look of anguish fixed upon him at her anguished words. Listening to her, seeing her like this was horrid, terrible. Enraging. He looked firmly into her remaining eye, knowing not if she comprehended him any longer or not.

"I will take you there. You have my word."​

He undid the breastplate, and tore off torn and charred cloth. He pulled her robes open, and within as she had said - bolted into her chest - was the case. He could hardly believe what he was seeing, let alone what he was doing... or about to do. He looked up. The monsters encroached.

He stood, and attacked with all his might... he was tired. His sword was heavy, but still he felled one... and then another. At least a dozen more drew nigh, but time enough for him to do what he must. He slip back to Lazule's side, and grasped the case. He spoke a few words of the elven tongue, conjuring magics unlike his usual itinerary. The case vibrated, and came free into his hand. He pulled it tight, and rose to his feet with a furious swing of his sword, warding off nearing monsters.

"I'll keep you safe..."

He roared a mighty roar, and threw his sword up above his head and held it tightly. From it, a great light flashed from it over much of the field - freezing the nearest creatures in their tracks. Not only this, but those remaining of the other twelve Swords now knew his place, and made haste to draw near to him - save for three.


The three Swords, each blades masters, rallied about Jirou and aided him in fending off the monsters that came from seemingly everywhere now. The great abomination still lumbered forth toward the city, sweeping and stomping with its great limbs, striking down many. Four of their own had now perished... and with sorrow and anger in their hearts they followed after Jirou up the chain, and unleashed their magics upon the beast as well, darting to all sides of it to attack in sync with the ronin's mighty strike.

Lazule Jirou

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

A young boy stood frozen in the field as the abomination approached, his whole body trembling. He couldn't have been older than 11 years old and he clutched his fathers hoe in his hands - the only weapon he had. But he had to fight for his father had asked him to be brave before he had left in the first wave of cavalry that the young boy had watched get thrown into the air. He hadn't been able to tell if his fathers body had been the one that had been crushed beneath the creatures foot, or the one he saw fly into the air and get skewered on a nearby tree, but he knew his father was gone in that moment. There was only him to save his mother and little sister now, give them a bit more time to leave and find shelter.

Yet as the hand came towards him he began to lose courage. Tears filled his eyes and a sob escaped his lips. He didn't want to die. He had so many dreams, and he hadn't finished his chess game against Morgan his best friend. He had the best move lined up next and he was sure he was going to win. All those precious future moments he had taken for granted were about to be snuffed out. As the hand swept towards him he shut his eyes and cried for his mother.

But the hit never came.

There was a breeze on his face and as he opened his eyes he realised he'd been saved by an angel of fire.

* * *
​

Caliane had never flown so fast nor so hard in her entire life. The news had reached the guild pretty much as the first attack happened and only a few of the hunters had the capacity to get there in time to help. To begin with she hadn't thought she would make it even with her giant wings, but she was determined. Fire crackled down her feathers as she willed herself faster, faster still, until she was flying so quickly it was like a comet through the air. The creature came into view at the same moment it threw its hand towards a young boy she didn't think should even be on the field and she hit him at a rate of nox, just before the creature did. If anything the creature might have grazed the heat of her and recoiled or else had the extremity burn and turn into the hellish creatures that seemed to come off him every time he was hit.

"It's ok," the winged elf murmured, slowing the beat of her wings though they still burned with an incredibly flame. The boy curled into her chest and sobbed, clinging to her form even when she touched down on the walls of the city causing several of the guard to scramble away on shock. Gently, she lowered him to the ground. "Get him somewhere safe," was all she said before she launched herself into the air, twisted in the momentum and propelled herself back towards the beast with so much force the air popped.

Over the next ten minutes Cali spent her time sweeping people out of the way of the creatures fists as best as she could, sometimes merely dropping them a few feet away so they could recover and regroup, other times taking them back to the city if they were injured. It was on one journey back that she noticed Lazule laying crumpled and another who stood and roared a challenge. She noticed a few of the beasts froze and took the opportunity to reduce them to ash in a maelstrom of fire before landing with a stumble beside the elf she now realised she recognised.

Ash covered her face and sooth stained her clothes as she held out her hands to him - she could feel Lazule's fire. It all made sense now, the reason she was so drawn to the girl in the guildhall. She was made of the same thing, the same burning element of raw fire.

"Give her to me, Eren," Cali's wings were crackling with a fire she could barely control now, she had never pushed her powers to such edge and it revealed in the freedom, the tight leash finally snapped. "My fire can sustain her, you need both hands to fight here."

 

[Lazule]

The metal plate bolted into Lazule's chest came off at Erën's command. And attached to the underside of the plate was a cylindrical glass container. Inside the container...a small ball of blue-green flame, the size of a human heart.

The instant the container and the Fire therein became separated from the body, the blood ceased steaming and alighting and turning to ash. It was simple blood once more, what little was left.

The container was spattered with this simple blood. Lena's blood, the daughter cruelly slain.

The container had also suffered some damage. Cracks spiderwebbed one side as well as the flat bottom of the glass. Slight cracks, but perhaps enough for air to leak inside.

The fire burned silently inside the glass.

Xyrdithas Caliane Ruinë

 

[Zeri Rekani]

0.48KM OUT​

Zeri Rekani stood at the front of the Line and watched with ill-concealed terror as the Amalgamation decimated the adventurers' vanguard. There were shouts from the chieftains commanding each fighting unit of the Line, saying things like "Watch for the small ones, kill them quickly and move on" and "See how fast that big bastard is? Get around to the side, to the back" and "Stay on the move, keep alive for as you can. Good luck."

She glanced back over her shoulder, seeing through the gaps of the units which comprised the Line and back to the Gates. The evacuation had become more panicked now; nearly all sense of order was gone, and guards were struggling tremendously to keep it from becoming a complete stampede. How many more people were still trapped inside the city?

Did...did her family make it out? Zeri didn't know. She had heard the call from the criers and just grabbed her hunting spear and hurried. Ran out to join the Line without her Ma or Pa's knowledge, much less consent. Spirits! She should have grabbed her bow instead. But she had just made the decision so fast--without even truly thinking. And here she was now, with other brave tribesorcs who had all never seen battle before either but who all nevertheless took up arms to defend Bhathairk. Thousands of them.

Everything would be alright. Everything would be alright.

She swallowed nervously. Looked back toward the Amalgamation and the fall of another adventurer. What if everything wasn't alright? What if she ended up like that adventurer? Like Gratoc and his Hundred? They didn't even last for a minute. What hope did she have?

Her lip trembled with terror, but also now regret. The last thing she had done with her Ma and Pa was argue. Argue about being allowed to journey on her own, like her big sister had decided to do. She was of age now, and her brothers both had no such aspirations and were more than willing to stay in Bhathairk. It was...an ugly argument. One she wished desperately she could take back now that everything she cared for, everything she held dear, was in jeopardy.

She wanted her last words to her parents to be ones of love, not of anger.

But it was too late to change this. She was out here, and they were either on the shores of the Bystra or Wda or somewhere still in the city--near impossible to find them. There was no going back.

And if she fled from her place here in the Line for selfish reasons, she would never forgive herself. So she had to live. Had to. Live and also ensure with the help of all those gathered here that the Amalgamation did not make it to the Gates.

An idea had come to her as she watched the Amalgamation come closer and closer; an idea almost starkly at odds with the goal of living, but one that may offer a narrow hope for the city. This idea, nearly as much as the Amalgamation itself, terrified the Almighty Spirits out of her.

The creature had stopped to look at the lone warrior, hadn't it? It stopped to look at those armored warriors, hadn't It? What if she could get It to look at her? Get It deep into a trance or something, giving everyone else around time to set up a massive, singular coordinated attack? Maybe even buy enough time for all of Bhathairk to be evacuated. It was broken out of Its gazing before, wasn't it, so what if It was allowed to...maybe...gaze too deeply? Keep Itself distracted for a long time.

She had no idea if it would work or not. But if it did...

Zeri closed her eyes. Tilted her head back and bit her lip. Let out a ragged breath laden with both worry and an undercurrent of determination. She clenched her fist and tightened her grip about her hunting spear.

And she stepped out of formation. One of the chieftains called after her, "Hey! Girl! What are you doing? What are you doing? The archers will loose soon! Don't! Come back!"

Zeri forced herself to keep walking forward. To keep approaching the enormous beast and the lone warrior that It was fighting.

* * * * *​

Ivaserin, the last of the adventurers save those who still lived among the once Armored Thirteen, was battered and bloody from combat with the Spawns. A winged woman had come to rescue some of the wounded, including a boy who had somehow found himself in the worst place in all Epressa right now. But Ivaserin was not one of them.

He wasn't a fighter. He wasn't a mercenary. Not truly. He was a novice of both. He had sought the thrill of travel and adventure, and he found himself overmatched.

This would be his end, for he was too exhausted and too injured to move now, and the potion of swiftness had since worn off. The Amalgamation lifted Its hand to sweep down at him, to join him into the field of the dead.

Ivaserin looked to the remained Thirteen--now Nine--and called out, "It has been an honor."

He closed his eyes. Awaited death.

YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO IGNORE ME, KAIJU.

That sweeping strike from the Amalgamation never came; Its raised hand had been chained before It could begin Its strike. And neither did the Spawns come for Ivaserin: they all began trying to scale up the chain and the Amalgamation Itself to get at Jirou, and three of the Order were defending against them.

Ivaserin was struck dumb. He simply couldn't believe that he yet lived.

* * * * *​

A powerful burst of black steam erupted from the Amalgamation's eye once Jirou stabbed through it. The steam was hot and fiercely magical, yet there was also a peculiar quality to it: it retained the faint smell of cherries, as the creature had emitted after Its second Pulse.

The Amalgamation stopped in Its advance, reared up straight and tall, and pulled up both of Its gargantuan hands and in so doing ripped Jirou's chain from the ground along with a sizable chunk of dirt it was attached to. The beast swatted at Its face and shook Its body, trying to hit or shake Jirou off.

And, from the slaying of numerous Spawns and the devastating blow to Its eye, the Amalgamation shrank further. From twenty-eight meters to twenty-six. Perhaps the change may not have been immediately noticable, given the creature's formidable bulk in addition to Its towering height, when It had shrunk from thirty to twenty-eight, but now from Its original thirty down to twenty-six the change was becoming slowly more apparent.

It could be hurt. It could be killed.

* * * * *​

Distantly, Jirou may have heard something odd. Not from the Amalgamation, but coming from the direction of the Line and the city.

A voice.

Calling.

An orcish girl, alone, walking toward the Amalgamation. Shouting, "Hey! Hey!" and waving her left hand high.

It was unclear whether she was trying to get his attention...or that of the Beast Itself.

Jirou

 

[Jirou]

Jirous took the stream of energy steadfast. The heat immense but he could not falter now. He would not let these deaths be in vain. The lives it wasted for its own pathway. Its own growth. He hoped that it could feel regret. Know it in its entirety when it fell to the ground before the sword of the meek.

He could see it in his periphery. The encroaching hand of the monster as it had ripped his kusarigama from the ground and damaged it heavily. He smirked at the thought of how much it would cost to replace the damn thing.

A much heavier burden than the danger he was in. Besides, his death would free him from material attachment anyways. Jirou continued to drive the blade into the beasts eye, a wild smile upon his face.

"Must you prolong your own death, kaiju?" Jirou laughed in his face. Then he heard the voice. A womans voice. Calling. He looked behind him to see Zeri screaming at he and the beast fighting. "GET BACK." Jirou returned to her words.

And yet he'd forgotten about the hand. The enormous appendage coming for him. He attempted to leap from the eye to the hand itself, but had dug his sword too deep. A shadowy creature formed from The Amalgamation jumped from the hand and tackled Jirou. He let go off his blade, leaving it deep in the creatures eyes as he and the shadowy monster fell from this enormous height.

He took deep, slow breaths.

The monster was atop him, he'd hit the ground first.

Twenty meters.
Fifteen meters.
Ten.
Five.
Three.

At two meters from the ground Jirou maneuvered to the top side of the creature and had it impact the ground, he landing on top of it. It saved him from death, but not severe injury. As they slid back towards his allies his arm caught the ground, hard. It compound fractured, his forearms bone jutting from the flesh. The creature died upon impact and Jirou landed directly beside Ivaserin, and laid on his back.

His breaths harsh and blood coated.

 

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

For a moment, with Lazule's flame clutched tightly under his arm and his sword held high, he stood tall. The light shot forth from his sword, fueled by his now waning magics. The beasts stood motionless for a brief moment, shocked by the sudden flash.

He swallowed hard. His legs buckled. His arm shook, the sword... grew heavier.
His vision blurred. Where one beast stood he saw three.

He summoned his strength, and prepared to lash out when then suddenly... a whirling flame of brilliant light took then, and reduced his immediate foes to ash. He was startled, and the strength he summoned he now used to brandish his sword and hold it defensively towards Caliane. In her current, fiery state - paired with his failing senses - he did not immediately recognize her.

"Get back," he hollered, stepping back and swinging his sword almost pitifully.
He took one poor step and his ankle gave, and he fell to one knee.
His breath was ragged. His wounds, bleed still. It dripped from him.
Sweat ran down his cheek, and dripped from his chin.
He focused his eyes on the figure before him...

"Caliane…?" he almost whispered, his lips trembling, "I'm..."
He was sorry... but he couldn't utter the words, but not out of pride.
There was little voice left in him now.

"Give her to me, Eren,"

His shaky eyes descended upon the case. He saw its damage. He saw her light.
He could not protect her... not like this...

He grasped her tightly, but offered her to Caliane.

* * *
​

As the Amalgamation recoiled and tore the chain from the ground, the last of the Three was caught up in it, and ripped to pieces. The other two struck at the beasts center, and the back of its neck. As it reached up, and Jirou was struck off, One of the Swords was caught in its terrible grasp. The second fought frantically to free them from its hold...

Both of them died valiantly.

The others, who had departed to aid Erën drew near to him - hindered by the Amalgamation's minions all the way.

Jirou Lazule Caliane Ruinë

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

The wild look of fear in the other mans eyes was the reason why Cali so rarely let her magic go. With a grimace she yanked the fire under control so that it dulled the flames that still ran over her wings like molten lava and turned her hair to a living thing. She looked more like the elf who had met him a few weeks ago when he collapsed and recognition finally ran across his face. Only once he recognised her did she begin her quick steps over to her fallen friend, crouching down in front of him.

"Erën..." Cali gently cupped both sides of the mans face, her thumbs gently wiping the soot and sweat from his cheeks. Despite the flames on her they didn't touch him, they didn't even feel like heat to those she offered her protection. "Keep fighting, Erën, they need you," her voice was barely above a whisper but he would have heard the words, spoken in the ancient elvish tongue. She could feel he was on the edge of collapse and the energy burning inside her was beginning to eat her up and threaten to consume her. She needed to give some of it away.

With upmost care the angelic creature leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. For anyone who was watching it might almost look as though the mans skin was burning, though he himself would feel nothing of the sort. His skin turned red and cracks appeared along it the shade of a dying ember. The raging inferno that lived within her constantly punched into him through their kiss, shooting down every fibre of his being. If he knew any spells relating to fire they would be the strongest right now for the next hour or so whilst that energy burned within him.

Quietly she pulled back, his appearance returning to normal, and gave him the faintest of smiles and then she was on her feet, Lazule's flame in her hands, and with one beat of her wings she was airborne again.

Caliane could feel the girl she knew within her hands and very cautiously she opened her mind to her.

Lazule?