Pandemonium Those Beyond

[Sigrith]

Eretejva_pandemonium

Luna's little stunt with the fallen Norden earned her a great deal of horrified and furious stares from those in attendance. Their beliefs around death and the passing of the Svalen were bound in honors and tradition. Had they not been beset upon by a new, monstrous foe, she likely would have dealt with several very angry warriors.

Sigrith eyed the woman, heterochromic stare detached of any immediate opinion on the matter, excepting for the very fact that Luna felt the need to jab at the size of her sword. The very sword that had just spared the lot of them a good bit of grief with the prior abomination. The Witch reaffirmed her grip on the hilt, peeling her attention away from the strange woman (and that said something coming from a Witch) to look upon the behemoth now stalking their way.

It lumbered toward them in slow, rhythmic strides, decaying head held on a swivel. There was nothing, but nothing that this hunting party could wield to take down something of that nature and she knew it. Arrows set free snapped off the skull, an axe would prove nothing more than a prickle.

"Split up-" she choked over a lungful of burning air, "split up! It's slow, go around either side, head for the Portal Stone!"

"San! With me!"

Her legs protested, her body felt the weight of building fatigue, but she was not about to die here.

 

[Vand]

Falwood_pandemonium | Spine_pandemonium | Eretejva_pandemonium | Blightlands_pandemonium

DOGGRAVE​

“REJOICE,” He of the Tusk heard in his mind. “For you are on a path.”

This much Doggrave had already known. They as people remembered everything; told it again and again in a story written upon the world. And while this Pandemonium was chaotic, and cruel, and malformed – the orcs, the elves, the men who had built it were the ones that walked the world he knew. And as they walked this new realm, and changed, and warped, and corrupted, they terraformed the world to host them in all the old languages and walks of life that made all this not so unfamiliar at all. One cannot think outside their own brain. So, this world of Pandemonium was but a cousin to the Eretejva from which Doggrave of the Tusk was reared.

And the Tusks were never lost.

He came upon his fellow Northmen blemished with the marks of his own struggles – his wooly pelt matted in blood. Though, upon closer inspection, it did not appear to be Doggrave’s – the crimson stains painted on as woads of war, symbols not intrinsically recognizable to men with their human faces. These were representations of power as seen through the eyes of those with two tusks and a trunk…with memories as old as the planet.

Upon one of his tusks hung the tendon and bone of something that had been impaled through the shoulder, then bisected. Tucked under his right arm was his story boulder, his thumb coincidentally located over a glyph illustrating a "fortuitous appearance by an old friend." Clutched in his left hand, the dangling lower half of one of these skincrafted monsters – a pair of legs with an arm sticking out of the asshole. Whether it was put there by Doggrave or not, would be difficult to determine.

Behold, this mammoth-man -- simultaneously clad in local horror and universal archetype.

He made mental note of Sigrith and Sannoru. They were who he had been tailing, after all.

With a valiant trumpeting (albeit a little wheezy, on account of the weird, vampiric air) and a rattling of his slaves chains, he underarm-lobbed the torn creature at the dragon-type thing’s bony face, the human-esque body tumbling inhumanly through the sky at an arc, a trail of blood marking its trail along the ground like the strafe bombing of air support. Innards slopping down like a hail of goose shit from a migrating flock.

He had not bought the premise that these creatures were of evolution and not some foul, intelligent design, but it didn't matter, in the end. They evolved as an invasive species, with no natural predators – like any squirrel or horse or weed can. The Tusks were the god-creatures of the tundra by nature, by might.

His story boulder slid from under his arm and into his hand, palming it to ready a throw, rock-crushing fingers splayed into hieroglyphs of “Unknowable Creatures from Beyond Known Space,” of “Ultimate Weapons,” and “Achilles’ Heels,” and “Central Power Batteries.” He had made this shot a thousand times from his T-16 shooting wamprats back home.

Rejoice. For you are on a path.

Doggrave already knew how this story would end.

 

[Scarlet]

LOCATION ONE

Alliria_pandemonium

The creature's languid grace disappeared in an instant, his alluring call inside their minds snuffing out as physical violence was brought to him instead.

Very well.

It swept up an arm, catching the weapon Jair welded before it could collide into its vulnerable center. The weapon smashed into its shoulder with a sickening crunch. Its scream of pain vibrated through every mind around it. The much smaller monsters by the portal all froze, shying back and twitching as if they too felt the pain.

Attack! It ordered to all of them, Rebecca included.

You are not worthy, it hissed to the giant and orc standing him down. You will die!

It yanked on the anchor wrapped around its arm, trying to force Jair forward and spear him onto the sword arm held out before him.



Lia


By the portal, the activity kicked up into a frenzy. What dozen or so creatures remained by it were now joined by several more ... and if there was any doubt where it had led to, they had human bodies in tow. They all wore Ranger garb, their faces pale and unconscious as they were dragged through.

Lia hadn’t been the only contingent of them in the area. She’d recognize many of them. Kaska’s sheet black hair joined the mix.

Of course, she had been in the area. Her and Lia had remained stationed at the same office. They had fought the same battle in different locations, and now Lia had finally found her. She laid limp inside a monster's tail, a gash across her temple bleeding freely. Black ink spread out through the veins there. Not dead. Poisoned. Fodder for the change. Unless someone could stop it.

 

[Sannoru]

»Ay, « The wolf panted painterly flames, transparent and flowly that emerged from it's lungs. They were weak and lit up at the pace of the wolf's breath. San would have preffered them not to.


His gaze returning to Sigrith as it manuvered from twisted branch to gnarly branch before landing on the floor besides Sigrith...And just in time to see:



»Omori ne mikiro-- -??->Doggrave?« San seemed a bit bewildered at the sight of the wooly mammoth man.
Sigrith and San, whenever not parted traveled alone throughout Eretejva, at least lately so.

Why was he here? Nevermind.


And as the comet aimed it's path towards the colossal one.

»Doggrave!«


Is aparently what slipped their lips sooner than: Leave that, go with us. It's not our battle to fight. But who's gonna object a body-boulder hurling of the tusk anyway?

 

[Mabess]

Spine_pandemonium Falwood_pandemonium

»Formation defence!«
The remaining ashlanders perhed their lances up in the sky as the coated the terrain like a mobile hedgehog. Those with bows joined in with Hath as they tried to shoot the thing down.

»I hope! - Dormak's group is not stuck here,« Mabess murmurred in the fray to Mk-Garul. »We head out to the portall stone?«
»We should,« spoke the Shadowreaver as he ducked from the talons that swiped past them. Sheeha actually lost her lance to the thing with how far she trusted it into the beastly flyer.

Ubabe shouted at Hath before throwing him a quiver from a wounded soldier, he won't need it, Hath however might.

Hopefully the humans were between the spear shafts well protected.

 

[Rebecca Fourtuna]

Alliria_pandemonium

She twitched in annoyance at the albino's words.
"Corruption? Coming from you monster I find that quite rich."
She hissed as her eyes narrowed venomously before the orc had spoke out. She glared at the tail he held but opened her mouth to answer him honestly as the giant suddenly attacked and she was ordered to along with the lower spawn. "I am sorry. Orders." She said with another annoyed twitch at being interrupted.
Her tail sprang up behind her like a snake a fired another spine at the orc before her scales flared up allowing her form to seemingly melt into her surroundings.
If the spine were to land the Orc would find something quite uncomfortable lodged in his neck shortly before a blissfully numbness gripped his mind as the venom would flow into his brain. As it flew through the air Rebecca worked her way to is left side with incredible speed as she sank into a pouncing stance and launched herself at the orc with her arm spines extended like a bolt from a crossbow hoping to land a double hit and spear him in the side of the chest before tackleing him to the ground. After he was down she could deal with the rangers close by. She could already smell Lia. Her scent was thick with fear.
Good. She should be afraid.

 

[Xoknath]

Alliria_pandemonium

A fight it was, then. Jair was having none of whatever was happening, no talk of ascension, no promises of true selves, just a giant versus monsters. It was unsurprising and fairly respectable, honest and not unexpected, but it seemed the little monster with the tail had orders to follow and no problem carrying them out, at least for the time being. Seemed she wanted to say something, but instead revealed a newly-grown tail, complete with a new spine to shoot out at the large target, but it did not take.

Despite his size, there was enough distance that Xoknath could dodge the projectile, probably dripping with more toxin like the one that had been shot into his shoulder earlier. Once was a learning experience, but to fall victim to it twice would be foolishness.

"Fine, speak with action!" Xoknath growled, throwing the first tail to the ground, "Prove you're better, now!"

Something struck the orc as unusual about the way she moved, but there was hardly time to consider it as the enemy rushed in, more weapons on her arms ready for the kill. She was faint, hard to see even by his vision, but he could fight through impaired vision as long as he could still see. Enough time hunting predators taught him plenty, and rewarded him with good bone, hide, and other bits. He readied his axe with both hands, but that was no way to deal with a lunge, not when he had a whole body to weaponize.

She launched herself, and he brought up an iron-covered knee to intercept her, before following the counter with a downward chop from his axe, and a tackle from his then-hunched form with his iron-spiked pauldron. He would clearly not want to try going at her unarmed or unarmored, given her natural-seeming weapons, but he had to trust his skills and that he had the right tools for this battle.

If she could beat him and he did not die, then she proved this ascension thing better than even his own nature as a mighty warrior, perhaps even worth the risks involved. There was also a different question as to the matter of his own rules and being defeated by a woman, but regardless he would not make an easy fight.

 

[Am'Thet]

Around her, the rage of battle unfolded. The giant clashed with the colossi and the orc clashed with the beast from earlier. Am'Thet could feel her blood boiling and her lungs burning. This was it, she thought to herself, brandishing the spine and her spear.

Wasting no time, Am'Thet slither over to Lia, running down any foul beast in her way. She pushed the voices out of her mind, shouting at others to do the same.

"You ready soldier?" Am'Thet asked Lia, impaling a nearby demon with her spear.

 

[Jair]

SURPRISE!!!

Jair let the rope slip through his hands rather than being yanked into a behemoth tug o war! He knew his opponent felt the pain of his anchor impacting its flesh. He didn't have much time to muse on all of this, as there was a giant blade made of flesh, and bone working to spear him through the middle. The giant was an out boxer by technique, and he slipped passed the thrusting blade, and punished the side what was wrapped up in a long length of rope, and one hundred five pounds of weight, and also hurt.

At it's very core, boxing, and really any martial art is a study in body mechanics, you can't throw one punch, or make one step with out the rest of your body moving in a certain way to make said movement possible. You learn to exploit this, and any weakness no matter how mild to win a fight. These were the facts Jair was working with...

1; the behemoths arm was injured at the shoulder.
2; that same arm was weighed down, and partially entangled.
3; the elongated bladed arms would have a hard time finding purchase on a target once it was passed a certain point.
4; one elongated blade couldn't block both side of the same body.

He was also going with the speculation that the behemoth was also off balanced, and on it's back foot. Thinking to himself that he would use this creatures blood for a powerful mind rune tattoo later on.

To that end, he began rapid firing jabs, and hooks into its week side to just punish the beast, and push it back towards the portal stone.

Alliria_Pandemonium @Scarlet

 

[TTamark]

Falwood_pandemonium | Spine_pandemonium | Eretejva_pandemonium | Blightlands_pandemonium
What remained of Steve watched in horror as a wave of energy went out from Eilasandree. The wave went out and washed over, one by one, those he considered to be his friends, and children, each being stripped of their free will. Steve, forgetting the burns that covered his body, leapt to his feet desperately trying to run to his children. Desperate, and frantic, short bird like calls rumbling out of his mouth. Unfortunately even if the pain his body felt was the last thing on his mind, his body was still damaged by the fire, and refused to allow him to travel more than a sad step or two. His burned legs collapsed under him, causing him to fall upon the ground. The collision quickly reminding him of the painful state his body was in. Tears streamed down his face as he still, with a shaking wing, reached out towards the closest of his children. He had given his body to save lives, but because of that sacrifice he now could not save those closest to him. Soon even what little strength he did have failed him as he fell face down into the mud.

As Steve laid there motionless in the mud, a memory of him talking with his dad about a girl who had just broke up with him came to his mind. 'Why on earth am I remembering this now of all times?' Steve thought to himself, but the memory continued to play.

"...she broke my heart dad!"
"Steve, I know you are hurting like never before right now, but know this: You will recover, and may even be stronger for it. Be glad that you are not truly heart broken, for a broken heart can be the death of a man. I know you are not heart broken because you still feel this pain. If, gods forbid, your heart ever truly breaks you will know because you will not be in a pain that puts such strain upon you that you can barely move, instead you will feel something, just a tiny, small, little something give way before you are consumed by a calm, the most deep and horrible calm that you will feel... You will still feel you pain, and anger, and sadness, but compared to that calm... they will feel like mere whims before it.

In these moments is when a man dies. After his death there are a few things that can happen to the body: It can be possessed by a monster, a being ruled by its emotions and lashing out at those near. It can become a husk of what it was, an empty life trying to hold onto what it was like to be alive. Or it can form a new person, and if they are really lucky they might retain enough of who they were to still bear the scar of what broke them before, and again, if they are lucky once more, they may be able to grow a little because of it. Not all however are so lucky, many if they manage to become a new person run from who they were, unable to bear what happened to that person.

The inescapable fact, in all cases, is that to experience heart break you, or whoever you were must die. That is why I am glad that you hurt because it means that you are not dead. As my son I will always prefer to have you hurting a bit, rather than you having to die. So stand up Steve, and remember: you are still here, this pain has not killed you yet."

'Huh' Steve thought as he laid there, 'I wonder how lucky I am? My dad always said he was lucky to have me, maybe being lucky runs in the family.' And so Steve just laid there knowing that he could do nothing to save those he loved. He just watched his children as they acted under someone else's control, the freedom he had promised them shattered. He scoffed at his own weakness as he closed his eyes to accepted his fate, he really had failed them. Steve, for the first time since entering the red mist, felt calm...

Then, to Steve's surprise, a large, sharp, and boney claw scooped him up and held him close to its chest. The monster eyed its brothers, and sisters with suspicious eyes before turning away, holding Steve in a protective manner. Steve smiled, how could he be calm while feeling this happy?

 

[Ser Cornelius Ferdinand]

Hey, Tidbit, you’re pretty handy with that knife. Might I recommend you stand near Goldilocks, here?” She jerked her finger at Cornelius, with a chuckle. “He’s a great meatshield, you’re a great stabby-rock-shooty-type, maybe you’ll manage to not die.”

Just like that, Mitzy was pairing Cornelius off with someone considerably less armored than he was. Not the least be detered, the tall blonde haired paladin smiled at Faurosk.

"Hey, friend. Thanks for the help with those demons back there. I couldn't really see what you were doing through the fog, but it looked epic. I think."

“Imma go say hi with the business end of my tonfa.”

"Oh. Well. We could probably try a verbal hello first. But sure, let's go hit it." Cornelius replied. He looked back to Faurosk and gave a shrug. Sure, there were some forboding things happening behind them. The place was creepy as creepy gets. And the only got here after being splattered with the blood of one of the most horrifying creatures Cornelius had ever laid eyes on. But none of that seemed to dampen the Paladin's spirits. Not as he pulled his boots out of the mud and tromped forward to give Mitsy some backup in whatever crazy, drunken plan she had, now.

 

[Felix Armon]

Alliria_Pandemonium

He was a bit confused when Rebecca completely ignored him and was goaded into another fight. But he looked around and he was happy to see that at least others were fighting as well. A good number of the humans refused to succumb to the call to ascension, at least for now.

He looked off and in the distance he could see the portal, a slight glow on the horizon and who knows how many demons between him and there. He debated his options. He could just go, leave the humans to fend for themselves and return to the prime material plane and report to his brother, or at least the others of his household. Or he could stay here and fight, hopefully help the humans reach the portal and help as many as he could to get out alive, though right now the humans didn't seem to hear him or care he existed. Or he could go ahead of them and fight the demons, drawing a crowd of demons around himself and possibly stemming the tide going towards the humans, allowing them a better chance to fight their own way out... and possibly sacrificing himself to die.

Alone he was formidable, but his silver rapier was like a blunted club to these creatures and he doubted he could fight the whole way upstream against a torrent of monsters on his own.
Staying with the humans he has no authority to bring them together, no commanding rank that they know of that could cause them to listen and rally to him so they could fight their way to freedom together.
Fighting hand to hand against superior numbers would definitely draw a crowd, but he could also become overwhelmed and could very well lose his life... And who would remember him and tell his family how he met his end?

He smiled grimly to himself. Sacrificing himself seemed to be the best option right now. The humans were at a standstill against the mob and they still had far to go. The best strategy was to draw the demons away from the humans, maybe even away from the portal... And to do that he needed to make a big disruption...

He began walking forward in the direction of the portal. His sword was sheathed but his hands were ready and he was primed for a fight. He walked away from the humans and the demons didn't seem to challenge him at first, seeming to be content with battling the humans and one pale man in white and black clothing didn't seem to garner much attention, but that could change in a split second. He just needed to get close enough to the portal, but he also needed to be off the beaten path a bit so that the humans wont be faced with another wall of evil when the effects of his disruption begin to be felt in the tide of the battle.

He continued walking trying to at least cover half the distance before being noticed and delayed by the demons.

 

[Lia]

Alliria_pandemonium Scarlet

For a second Lia was lost in the chaos.

Then a voice rang out to her. She did not recognize it at first, in fact she did not recognize it at all, but it's origin was more than clear. Her head whipped around and she spotted the Naga among the chaos.

The woman… Thing? How could one tell a Naga's gender? Lia had no idea, but then again perhaps that was an ignorance she simply held. The Naga spoke to her, asked a question, and for some reason it was exactly the push she needed. Lips thinned, fingers tightened on blade, and the fear within her heart seemed to melt Way.

For now at least.

It was only a half second later, as she stepped forward into the Frey that she spotted her friend.

"Kaska." The word was the barest breath.

Anger crossed Lia's features. Rage that had hardly ever been seen. Without a moment more of hesitation the Ranger Lieutenant suddenly darted forward into the Frey once more.

 

[Azget of the Seventh]

Falwood_pandemonium | Spine_pandemonium | Eretejva_pandemonium | Blightlands_pandemonium

"Swords, spears, arrows, magic?"

The voice wept within the minds of those who had made it beyond the mist, it's siren called marked with a deep and desperate despair.

"Who has misled you? Who has taken you so far from the truth?"

As the ascended called out the creature began to move once more. Lurking for only a moment, they lumbered more and struck out with a fury.

The great and twisted Gryffon was the fastest. As it swooped down the black and twisted wings upon it's back seemed to grow and expand, the abyss of black tendrils seemed to grow, and then explode out all at once. The beasts talons never touched the earth, instead razor sharp feathers of flesh shot out at the earth below as the beast flapped it's great wings once and pushed itself into the air. Arrows pierced it's hide, the defenders below grasping to bring it down.

"You will learn."

It sounded again, and like a mark of attack the broken Knight before the undead stammered forward. It's fleshy armor of bone seemed to shift, the odd cloak of skin flapping where there was no breeze. Within a heartbeat it began to dart forward, it's sword raised and the monsters at it's back. They rolled and roiled forward, every step digging up earth until it suddenly leaped, and pounced into the very center of those gathered undead. It's weight enough to shake the earth when it landed.

"You will join me, Children."

The last echo called to those beyond the mist, and like a call the aberrant dragon that had appeared opened it's gaping maw. The lumbering, broken creature roared, and from deep within the depths of it's belly it summoned up a flame. Debauched and as corrupted as it's master, the flame swept forward, a deep purple color running through it's core. The fire swept forward, aiming to burn the northmen. One of the twisted beasts accidentally stepped into the it's cone, It's already blackened and broken skin distorting even further, bubbling and searing, corruption spreading.​

 

[Ynsidia]

Blightlands_pandemonium

If it had tendrils it died.

Period.

And many things with tendrils were suffering being torn limb from numerous limb.

Iphigenia and her Ink Dragon swooped, and struck any asymmetrical Hellspawn in sight. The magic coursing through her to maintain the Conjure was agony, maddening. Ynsidia became a kid sister, and Elveszett an innocent child in her unraveling mind, both of them required protection in the face of imminent peril. She swung her iron chains like a scourge, or lariat, going between unhinged cackling emanating from deep within her stomach, ushering out guttural, visceral, to high pitch keening.

"For I shall burn the firmament to lay you all waste!
And I shall raise Hells to valleys to stay your pace!
Know I shall rend my flesh to rend all of yours too!
Flow I shall all my hate to end all of yours and you!"

And her shackle strike right then tore the face off of some monstrous life-form, leaving it writhing. Iphigenia continued at the top of her lungs, tears streaming now from her obsidian dark eyes.

"Pour me out and find only rage!
Tear thee out your heart from its cage!
You call me from some twisted palace!
You shall face me and all my malice!"

And the Ink dragon ripped some tentacled creature to pieces with its mighty black talons.

"Swords, spears, arrows, magic?"
​

It hit Iphigenia like a wallop. Going spit-less, and doubling on her conjured, flying mount, she fought the voice in her head, but realized that the fire in her head driving her onslaught somehow was it. All her misery, and indiscriminate fury had been goaded by the voice before.

"Who has misled you?"​

Without realizing it, she'd accepted the call by summoning the Ink Dragon and giving into an uninhibited fugue. All the unrequited pain of being Iphigenia, the stolen child, the slave, bubbled up then, and even for there being no mirror in front of her, she saw Ynsidia, who she had become over so many hard, disappointing years, and shrieked.

"Who has taken you so far from the truth?"​

She saw herself. The slave child in rags packed in among the rest of the living, breathing peoples of Arethil reduced to chattel by a cruel and brutal institution. First indentured to slavers, now to nobles from a city that had grown afraid of its own shadows. During this invasion of her mind, the form of the Conjure she was flying started to tremble, agitate and lose form. Oblivious, she clutched her slave shackles to her person, and wailed.

"Please! PLEASE S-st-t-top!!!" she sobbed, but the incursion wasn't over.

"You will learn."​

What she experienced after these words was something that transcended everything she knew in regards to suffering. It was less physical, but tied to the aura of magic, the flow of it she was sustaining to keep her Conjure. It felt like the stream was flensed within her. Pure, and utter torment followed.

Her scream was mortal. Loud. Endless seeming, as every bit of air evacuated from her lungs.

But her Conjure, though dripping and running, she still managed to hold on to.

"You will join me, Children."​

This place. This awful place was changing her mind, her magic, her spirit...it was changing her completely just by being in it. Corrupting her. That's what it was doing. From the very start. In the horrid experience of that moment, she set her will. Slavers sold her, nobles bought her, but this world would not change her, because if she let it, then someone, or thing, truly would OWN her.

Aiming the trajectory of her melting Ink Dragon for a creature that looked similar to Blaight, who seemed slain forever ago now, she manged one, last, airless word of defiance.

"Never..."

The Conjure smashed into the demon killing it instantly in an explosion of ink, and Iphiginia, Elveszett, Ynsidia, whoever she was in the chaos of this desperate conflict, went flying through the air, slamming down hard and skipping like a stone on impact, her limbs going rag doll limp as she skidded to a slow stop. Flesh scraped, and shredded, gushing blood, the woman known as Ynsidia to most in Arethil had succeeded at very little in this war against Pandemonium, except in saving herself.

*I'm out of this Pandemonium thread until it concludes; thanks for having me, it was a Hell of a ride!

 

[Vand]

Falwood_pandemonium | Spine_pandemonium | Eretejva_pandemonium | Blightlands_pandemonium

DOGGRAVE​

Doggrave visibly tensed, eyes widening as the dragon ignored the thrown corpse, letting it bounce off the side of its head as it instead pivoted to concentrate upon the Northmen; their helpless forms, scattering about its feet in a desperate bid to reach the portal.

Though the beast was distracted, they were vulnerable – whichever side the dragon favored was likely to be caught in the cone.

The Tusk was not about to let it be Sigrith.


Hopping forward with an earthshaking wind-up, THEN THE PITCH, Doggrave hurled his story-boulder at the purple gem cresting the dragon’s with the speed and accuracy a titan acquires when it’s the only weapon it uses in life. Mythological glyphs spun in the air, telling stories of heroes born, struggling, sacrificing, and born again, spinning through space like a comet ready to put this dinosaur out of its misery.

No swords, no spears, no arrows, no magic -- Just a big-ass rock and a bigger myth. Robust; adaptable.

Following through with his throw, Doggrave, woozy from the taxing climate, would fall briefly -- catching himself with one hand. With a faint trumpet, he'd push off the ground, moving to strafe to whichever side was opposite of the dragon's face -- his eye searching for his story-boulder's rebound, should it have failed to collapse the monster's skull outright.

With a whip of his trunk, he snatched hold of one of the smaller abominations, ripping them to the side and casting them off.

 

[Hath Charosh]

Spine_pandemonium Falwood_pandemonium

»I hope! - Dormak's group is not stuck here,« Mabess murmurred in the fray to Mk-Garul. »We head out to the portall stone?«
»We should,« spoke the Shadowreaver as he ducked from the talons that swiped past them. Sheeha actually lost her lance to the thing with how far she trusted it into the beastly flyer.

Ubabe shouted at Hath before throwing him a quiver from a wounded soldier, he won't need it, Hath however might.

Hath caught the quiver of arrows. He dropped it to his feet and nocked the last arrow of his own. If they survived this he would be far more thankful for this than being shown how to ice skate, albeit badly.

If he escaped with the others. Back home his tribe had migrated using the portal stones far north once. His shamans knew the secrets of making a key. Usually an old bone infused with some magic that anyone could press to the stone. It didn't escape his notice that most of the tribe was mounted and that he was on foot.

The beasts talons never touched the earth, instead razor sharp feathers of flesh shot out at the earth below as the beast flapped it's great wings once and pushed itself into the air. Arrows pierced it's hide, the defenders below grasping to bring it down

Hath's next arrow was caught in the back draft of those great wings. It spiralled away from its target. The orc hunter didn't even see the black shards fanning out through the air.

He called out in shock as the missile struck him in the chest and threw him from his feet. Pain exploded outwards from the wound, his fingers feeling the smooth outline of the black feather embedded in his leather armour. His own blood welled up around the wound.

I'm still breathing, he told himself. That meant he wasn't dying, not yet anyway. With a gutteral growl of pain he rolled onto his side and tried to drag himself back to his feet. They needed to leave this place. He needed to get towards the stone before the rest of the tribes left him behind. Dormak wouldn't wait for an outside if he arrived there first.

 

[Baise]

Eretejva_pandemonium

They said there was a portal stone. Valthar kept that thought running around in his mind. Even if it was a month's trek back home from wherever in Arethil it dropped them, it was a better future than one here.

Harlkon, one of the finest warriors from his town had transformed, rushing ahead and barrelling through some of the dark demons that still harassed them.

Valthar brought up his shield as one of them leapt out of the mists. Pure adrenaline drove the young norden forwards when he should have been driven back. The monstrous beast that resembled dragonkind was bearing down on them.

The demon before him howled and tried to pull the shield down. Valthar smashed the iron rim of it into its face. It hissed in pain. The creatures didn't like iron. It didn't like the steel of his axe crashing down to split its skill either.

The dog talked again, calling out to a shadow in the mist. This time the form wasn't a new horror, but one of the tusk. Valthar had heard of them, but never seen one.

Valthar shouldn't have turned his gaze. He saw the landscape illuminated in violet a moment before he felt the heat.

The young fisherman yelped and threw himself into the boggy ground. His furs had been set alight, the fire searing his flesh. He rolled and discarded his furs, heart hammering inside his own head. He was covered in stinking mud, pain driving all thoughts from his mind. Steam rose from his shoulder. Valthar caught the scent of burning furs, but also burning flesh. Just a few meters away, Harlkon's twisted, broken Svalen form was burning.

One of the strongest of them, contorted beyond recognition. Despair was slowly replaced by the voices that called to them. Would change be worse than burning alive?

 

[Scarlet]

Alliria_pandemonium

As everyone fought their own demons, the massive creature in the center of it all took several sharp punches from the giant Jair. It bellowed wordlessly, stumbling backwards. So it was capable of sound after all....

At the same moment the smaller creatures below clawed at and climbed for Jair's body, trying to tear him apart like furious ants.

The massive creature, the master you might even call him, let out another intelligible screech and slammed his pointed arm in to ground. An amulet around its neck glowed. A wave of energy rippled out. The ground shook, cracks forming some five to ten feet deep across the battle field, disrupting all ranks.

A crack went right between Jair's legs, growing swiftly.

From the portal a new type of commotion stirred. Humans erupted from its corrupted form, wielding swords and screaming out battle cries as they chased through the monsters that had led them there. The flow of them seemed endless, almost unbelievable. Each man and woman wear a symbol of the Allirian guards.

The feeble grouping of un-corrupted humans and orcs and ... what the hell is that a lizard? ---no longer appeared so outnumbered. In the chaos, there was death.

 

[Rebecca Fourtuna]

Xoknath
He heard a bug like crunch as his knee connected with Rebecca's ribs as she managed to drive her left spine into his left leg.
Her right arm and tail spines shattered under the impact of the ax they were raised to counter a pained almost squeak of breath escaped her lips as the air went from her lungs and the pain of shattering bones reached her brain.
She barely caught her breath as she felt iron spikes dig into her already pulverized chest with a hunched tackle.
The iron burned her flesh as she pushed herself off of his shoulder with a small flip landing weakly clutching her wounded stomach as black blood seem to gush. She coughed up a gob of it spitting it out along with a couple of broken fangs some bile that steamed on the boggy soil.
"Was all that completely necessary...because it hurt very badly and Im starting to think it wasnt.."
She wheezed out with a pained chuckle as her blackened guts spilled from her shredded stomach and her buckling knees gave out. She slumped to the ground face down on top of a fallen demon comrade.

 

[Xoknath]

Alliria_pandemonium

A spine managed to find its way into his leg above his armor, through the thick hide that he wore and into his flesh. He felt it with vague memories of him and his brothers cutting themselves on brambles as they tripped through the flora on early hunts, trying to gain any advantage on their preys. It stung, but he never did let the pain slow him down nearly as much as getting entangled.

Yet, she focused too much on her attack, took too much confidence in her stealth, and did not have the endurance needed to blunt the strikes of a far larger prey. His knee stunned her, as intended but not as expected, and her over-confidence in single combat did not let her hide behind the disposable monsters around them.

Xoknath Mag Ul Asdezukhard was an orc, raised to understand the hunt, to expect predatory beasts who stalked out of sight and belligerent prey that would throw their bulk into survival. He was taught to know battle, how an enemy would strike faster than he could move, but to always prepare the next strike before the first one was finished. It struck him as he looked down upon the female monster's form, chuckling as she bled like a wounded cat.

She was neither predator nor prey. She was like a person new to an axe, unsure of how to properly fell the tree but giving her all. It seemed that Ascension was a tool to make the weak strong, but it did little to teach them their new potential. Even the large monster seemed to struggle against the natural giant, breaking the facade of absolute power that they had boasted.

"That was just a warrior's greeting. If ya heal anything like your tail, don't bother fighting here any more." Xoknath rumbled out the warning, "But if ya ever want help practicing, find me after the dust settles."

Would that the fight lasted longer, Xoknath would have removed the long hunting tool from his back, with a haft thick like a straight tree branch so that it could fit comfortably in his mighty hands. For now, though, it seemed just about time to collect his things and help do his part to end the fight. No sense worrying about the fight that could have been, though he did not turn his back on the beastly girl without keeping an eye on her as well, lest she get any clever ideas.

The large orc charged his way through the masses of monsters to where his other weapons had been left behind, to grab up his axe from the ground and his cleaver from the corpse of the one he had felled earlier. Through their masses he would become like a rampaging war beast, the separation between ally and enemy thankfully easy given the stark differences so that he could bring his battle axe and his cleaver down on the appropriate targets, constantly striking and turning to watch his back, keeping a blood-red eye out for his allies to cover them, his hide wear and iron armor taking the bulk of strikes against him with the odd blow finding its way to flesh and alerting him to an enemy a little too close to doing real damage.

Still, his body was a bit numb and slow from the toxin. He would need some time to rest with a good cask of mead once this was all over, but he suspected that he would have no problem finding drinking buddies to celebrate what appeared to be an impending victory.

 

[Am'Thet]

Am'Thet could sense the tide of battle shifting towards the uncorrupted's favor. Ahead of her, she could see the horde of humans charging from the portal stone, cutting and carving through the ranks of the foul beasts. Meanwhile, the giant exchanged blows with the supposed master of these demons, clearly with the upper hand. Glancing to her side, she saw the orc standing victorious against the beast from before, soon charging back into the fray. Around her, the remaining rangers and mercenaries fought tooth and nail, not only for their survival, but for the survival of all they knew and loved. It was about time she joined in the chaos.

Surging forward, Am'thet charged towards the giant, brandishing the spine and spear. She could see the smaller beasts climbing onto him, scratching and biting frantically, trying to assist their master. She could also see the rift opening beneath him, threatening to swallow the giant whole if he didn't move in time.

"Move you big oaf!" Am'Thet shouted, hoping the giant heard her as she impaled a demon with her spear. Soon, a pile of lifeless corpses began to pile behind her as she charged forward, her spear massacring whatever foul beast crossed her path. She was like an enraged bull, running down any unlucky beasts who got in her way.

 

[Kara Orin]

The Redhead turned to Faurosk. She looked at the magic staff offered. It took several seconds before she stood up and accepted it with her unwounded arm.

“Thank you,” the Redhead told Faurosk in a monotone.

Once Faurosk turned his attention to Trajan, the Redhead turned to some of the mercenaries and asked, “Is there anyone that will help me carry his body?”

---

Once the demon fell, Kara looked to the other members of her group. Seeing that all fighting had ceased, she immediately walked to the demon’s corpse. Without word, she drew a vial from one of her pouches. A rune used for food and liquid preservation was etched on the glass.

Then, Kara knelt down and sliced open the demon’s wrist with her runic dagger. As black blood oozed out, she poured the blood into the vial until it was nearly full. She sealed the vial and activated the rune before placing the it back inside her pouch.

---

Initially once the fight ended, the Elf still held his staff up. He still drew a heavy breath.

“No more whispers?” the Elf muttered.

The Elf looked around and noticed that the mercenaries following Trajan and Valkery did not attack him or the other mages.

With a sigh of relief, the Elf lowered his staff and shoulders.

The rumbling in one direction continued. Yet, the sound did not draw closer as anticipated by Valkery.

The Pale Being in the distance continued to watch the group. It waved its arm as if to beckon Mitsy and Cornelius to follow. It turned around and walked down the path – away from the group and toward the magical disturbance.

The Elf saw this. He looked to Valkery and said, "I'm Maester Flytch. The College will be interested in rewarding you if we can work together to return home."

Then pointing at the now open path that the Pale Being went down, Flytch said, "There's some strange magic that way. I'd rather deal with that creature than whatever beast is making that noise behind us."

Elbion_pandemonium

 

[Eilasandree Ival]

It was... dark. Eilasandree knew that much. She couldn't see, wherever she was, but she knew that it was dark. Every now and then, a flash of light. Never the same colour twice in a row. Red, Blue, Yellow, Red again... they appeared and disappeared, wisps of... something. She wasn't sure. The darkness around her was all oppressive. It weighed and pulled and tore and gnashed, singing sweet lullabies into one ear as it snarled and raged in the other, tugging and drawing from her very being. It was all around her. It didn't want her here. Or... something to that effect. In the end, what t wanted didn't matter. Only her. It was her goals that would triumph in the end, even if it meant taking on the Darkness. Slowly, she felt herself... grown, pushing back against that feeling around her as she began to feel... better. Stronger. Relief flooded through her mind, and she paused for a moment to wallow in that feeling of superiority.

"REJOICE!"

That single word crashed into the Banshee Queen like a wave, the flickering flame of her being blown back and shrinking to little more than an ember, as the millennia old being did her best to simply hold on, even as more and more words crashed over her, threatening her with extinction.

"For you are on a path."

Each word was a tidal wave of power, rippling and pulsing through the Darkness, hidden somewhere within its crushing depths. Red flashed throughout Eilasandree's mind, then Yellow, Green, and Blue. The motes hung there, resistant and defiant to the darkness, flitting about as the pulsing thing washed over them. They fought, but not all won. Green began to shrink, and Red all but flitted out, only a tiny, insignificant ember remaining where a blaze had once stood. Yellow pulsed, as if combating the enemy around it, but it was Blue that stood tall, unwavering and unbroken even as the Darkness roar-whispered and scream-sang. Even as Eila cowered in the face of the being that tried its best to... to change her, it never even flickered.

The voice spoke again, but the words themselves escaped Eilasandree even as the meaning did not. Ascension... that was... what she had wanted, right? But it... it wasn't right. She wasn't going to be given power. Power given is power that can be taken away. She will take it. She clung on, but even that wasn't enough. She was... weak. Too weak. Simply maintaining her form, with all the strings attached to her, was too much. She couldn't... she needed to flee. To run. She needed to escape, before she was stamped out. But where could she go? There was nowhere the Darkness wasn't. It was everywhere. Everything. Except... The lights. The Yellow flickered once more, while the Blue did not waver in the slightest, stalwart against this world of pulsating night. Reaching out, essence ebbing and fading away, Eilasandree made contact with the blue, diving deep within in order to escape the Darkness.

And suddenly there was Power.

 

[Magnan Smithson]

Magnan brought his sword down again, and again upon the head of the great beast he rode. Steel flashed and he brought it up to slice through a whipping tentacle, massive shield blocking two more that came from the opposite side as he jumped backwards to avoid an eruption of fleshy mass beneath his feet as another formed. Planting his sword within the writhing body of the great beast he rode, he hacked and slashed at it as best he could, the only sound being his own yelling and the rumbling of the great behemoth. Blue light flashed as the shield lit up in runes no scholar could hope to decipher, and a similar light coated the sword as he brought it down with enough force to ripple the air around him. Finally, he heard something approaching noise from the great beast, and all of the tendrils around him spasmed and flailed, coming down on top of him with enough force to being the Lich Knight to his knees, shield raised and holding them still, before a final tendril slammed into him from the front with enough force to send the armour clad Titan rocketing through the repugnant air, whistling slightly as the dented armour began to fix itself.

He collided with the ground with a loud BOOM, earth shaking as trees broke beneath his body and the soggy, fleshy ground was furrowed with his body. Laying at the end of the destruction, Magnan allowed himself a moment of respite as skeletal maws looked down at him with what he could feel was concern. It seemed he had arrived back nearby their forces. Flexing his gauntlet covered fingers around the pommel of his sword, Magnan let out a grunt as he rose our of his crater, taking a look around. He quickly focused upon the teeming masses of flesh that stood opposite of the undead. Althouhg... it seemed something had certainly changed. Eilasandree could be seen, slumped over and lifeless within the saddle of her steed, and among the ranks of the Eternum were their own flesh fleshy horrors and amalgamations of bone, standing amongst their ranks and towering above even him.

Straightening, the Lich twisted his neck, bone crackling against each other as armour tore and reformed to allow the action. He made his way through the silent forces of the Undead, as he watched the still monstrosities opposite them. Reaching a small bump in the earth that allowed him better vision of what was around him, he turned his head silently in the direction of what was obviously the leader. It looked... well, it looked like him. A nightmarish parody of himself, replacing steel with flesh and bone and light with shadow. A voice echoed out, a simultaneously a whisper and a shout, but Magnan payed it no heed. This would end but one way, and whatever it wanted was not going to pass.

Sure enough, the enemy began to move, and to his left he heard the rasping voice of Amankh give a cry. As one, the Eternum responded to the challenge, soldiers moving in unison as their own monsters took to the front ranks, to break the enemy. Giant bird like creatures silently stomped forward as skeletons marched as one and zombies ran haphazardly. Beasts in various states of decay howled and sprinted to the sides to flank their enemy, and in the skies their areal counterparts did the same. Yet Magnan payed no more attention to this than the voice, his sole focus being the disgusting parody of a knight before him as it moved. It leaped high into the air, and Magnan ran to meet it. His shield came up as he swung, crashing into the body of the dark knight just it landed, with enough force to kill a man outright. "Come on then." Came Magnan's deathrattle voice. "Bring it on!"