Quest The Longest Night

[Sarek Valaren]

Sarek breathed a sigh of relief. The beast that had been scorched by Farzad had now shifted its attention towards Eren and he found himself silently thanking his malnourished and deformed figure. It made him less of a threat, less of a target.

His relief was shortlived, however, as he witnessed the chaos breaking out before him. He shrugged. Sarek was no expert in martial ability, in fact, he wasn't really a magical one being completely honest. Instead, he would simply do what he did best, namely... invoke a plague and hope for the best.

To do that, however, he'd need a dead beastie to study. With Farzad gone - although Sarek suspected this to be more than simple self-immolation - it was up to him to save the gang. At least in his mind anyway.

Sarek clocked onto the figure engaging Eren and lunged. Speed, strength, anything physical was not his forte, but the disfigured mage summoned reserves unbeknownst to him and leapt onto the back of the threatening demon.

As he clutched on for dear life, the beast bucked and shook trying to dislodge Sarek from its sinewy back. He inhaled, trying to siphon its strength through his magic - the attempt was disastrous - the magic reversed and twisted much like Draedamyr had warned and Sarek found his own strength leeching into the Demon.

As Sarek's strength slowly faded and his magic turned on him, an idea struck him.

He began to siphon the pestilence and disease from the beast - as he would when cleaning a wound - the results were... disgusting.

The beast began to siphon the diseases, plagues and ailments of Sarek.

"Uh, Eren, I'd run before the pus starts weeping."

 

[Farzad Oldsummer]

The rubble crumpled. Air mixed and waned in the dirt of smoke and ash, a bashing wind of the storm upturned and erupted into the air, howling with cries of anguish.

The rocks shifted. Sil.​

The howl of terror, the cry, his quarterstaff all he left behind as he vanished into the ether in fire and flame. The howling echo of cowling demons all that man was able to take to the afterlife.

His quarterstaff shifted. Pulae.​

Fire slowly flickered like a candle with a dying wick at the rubble and stone in a final act of defiance against nature itself, the wind and the storm came with one last harrowing call, taking with it the final spirits of fire and leaving nothing in it's wake, except rotting stone and fallen rubble.

Reality shifted. Felza.

It hissed at reality, a spirit of black and fire.

SIL PULAE FELZA!
​

It's body cracked reality like a simple pane of glass, turning it quickly into shapes of fading mist as Farzad returned, his quarterstaff picked off the ground as he was less a cavalcade of a firework and a blackened spirit, linen and cloth burnt into cinder and ash, scrolls wrapped around his body with magical tendrils, wisps and crackles fusing them to his body as makeshift clothing. The Charcoal tainted his skin, as streams of fire erupted from his volcanic body. He seemingly hovered in the air as he ripped from his flesh a strip of magic.

Bel Bicote Xar!
​

His words choked out through ashen lungs, his quarterstaff burst fourth against the side of the demon, stretching, elongating as it forced his demon out through the side of the tower, retracting just as quickly as it exploded into reality, the demon caught in the lashing storm, wings unfurled but caught in upturning and horrid winds, rain blasting it down with the force of a dissipating tidal wave.