Wrae'Vexenari

[Rickter]

Wrae'Vexenari
Ash 1st, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

It simply struck him as if it were a syncopated beat, yet somehow, the last thing the wolf remembered was going about his duties during the day. Midday in fact as the sun had been set high over the city, and now, of course, the very thing that Rickter looked at when he opened his eyes was the endless ocean spanning the horizon. What exactly happened? He didn't quite know just yet. Only that he now stared into the twilight of night most of the stars had already faded out, leaving only the brightest few glowing in the waking hours ahead.

He still walked his path then, and while he believed that to be an omen in good faith, the wolf did not feel comfortable with just suddenly being here. "It's been a while, again, Rickter." The sound of his voice already brought shivers down Rickter's spine, as he turned around to see the Azure Knight himself standing a good fifteen feet distance. "I had hoped we'd get to have this final chat."

"Tiberius!!" Rickter growled with a clench in his shoulders, the wolf bore a firm gaze toward Tiberius as he stood rather defensively from him. Every fiber in his being trembled for him to stay away from the knight, and already, he wanted to reach out to those immediately close to him in the wake of his situation. "The hell is going on?! What do you want with me now?!" Ever since Avamande had helped him in Searing, the wolf had wondered many things about Tiberius and his intentions.

"Unfortunately, we're both... out of time." The knight remarked as he gradually lifted his hands up to remove his helmet, though he kept his gaze averted with the left eye still closed. The wolf tilted his head as the smell of death plagued his ancestor now, garnering a look of anxious concern out of him no less. "I understand my role in all this now, Rickter, and believe me I will leave with regrets you cannot imagine. But it's finally over for me." Finally with the rise of his gaze he opened that eye, revealing a black marble instead of the deep blue eye that once resided there before. "You were right to feel cursed, Rickter. Because as my descendent you are. Because now... it hungers for you."

The wolf took a few steps away as every hair on his neck rose. "I no longer have Arcas' gift, therefore, the last of my will is doomed to fade to this curse. You too are threatened by its presence Rickter." Even the bastard could see the fear in Rickter himself, and not once did the man's gaze lessen off the wolf. "Stay your course, and no matter how great the peril, never give up the fight. Understood?"

"What are you trying to warn me about, Tiberius?!" Rickter urged as he still stood defensively toward the man, aware of a shift in the air as a storm front started to roll through. "What is this curse you're talking about?!"

"You remind me of him so much." Tiberius merely responded with a turn of the shoulder, as he shifted so that the back of his ancient armor was toward Rickter. "Out of every single one of them... He had to pick you." Rickter remembered someone else having a conflict with that also, when he'd been warped into another dimension to face whatever entity that was. The wolf honestly struggled to even justify if that was Echo related or not, given that it had happened within the Warrens of all places.

"No matter what path you carve, Rickter, never lose that fire inside of you." It was as if he had given Rickter his final words, like whatever part of Tiberius was left needed to say all this for a particular reason. Alarm flashed in Rickter's features as clouds blotted out the skies overhead, and the shadow in Tiberius' reflection warped to fill the waters around him. As he dissolved into particles of black the rest of the waters within Rickter stirred, both sky and sea ripe with the scent of death somehow.

The wolf did not understand this. He felt terror deep in his soul now as the waters around him bubbled, before shadows rose to the surface to take on human-like forms. Within each of their hands however, blades coated with black briars threatened to harm the wolf. And it wasn't just a mere ten to twenty... no...

Throughout the expanse of the storming seas, shadows started to creep into the depths of his soul. Immediately, Rickter threw out both his arms to materialize his bastard sword in pairs. Two Way to Dawns for his hands, the actual weapon in his right, while the other duplicated crossed over one another near the wolf's back. If any of what his ancestor had told him meant anything, just now, then what Rickter needed to do more than anything was a fight. Fight back against whatever the hell this curse was, even if he felt the odds were impossible against him suddenly. Could this have tied in with what Eikaen warned him about? Was Talon more in danger now because of Rickter?

Questions weren't going to dispatch the entities that were coming for him now, thus, with a flick of his thoughts the wolf sent out the pair of blades behind him. Three shadows were cut down in their whirl, yet as the blades returned more threatened to run in for a flank. There was also those coming at him from the front. Hell even the sides. You gotta be fuckin' kidding me! He growled before a pull into a compass slash, with a spin to his north first for a combined slash with the three blades. The two floating blades whirled and spun around him, while he shifted to rotated into a slash to his south. Eight shadows.

And he didn't have time to count beyond that, simply move into a pull to elude the swing of blades. Each time he pulled a dodge Rickter sent his blades into a whirl, before he finally vaulted into the air above a group of shadows. The wolf held his left forearm close as he activated his Emblem, and reached out in desperation for the power that would be his salvation. Silver light radiated off Rickter as his spin through the air generated a whirl of silver flames, as the wolf adjusted his midair posture so that he'd land on his feet once down. A circle of Dawnfire burned all around him until it started to form a ring, one that acted much like the barrier around the Hobbled Gobbler back in Zaichaer.

Shadows disregarded themselves and simply ran through the flames, before their forms would burst while the barbed weapons themselves disintegrated. Rickter stood dead center of the circle as he looked down at the waters, his four swords orbiting him above as he knelt down to touch the water's surface. Even with this power that he cherished... it wouldn't be enough. And while he didn't want to risk it, the wolf felt backed into a corner he wasn't prepared for at all. "I can't win this one alone. I need your help on this one..." He knew the risks involved, which is why he considered them well, when he rested his hand on the surface of the water.

"If there are any of you out there that are warriors, I could really use your help right now!" And thus Rickter reached out to focus on the Echo, the light of the emblem almost burning through his arm as he venerated his call.

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Dialogue" Thought "Tiberius"

[Imogen]

"I hope you realize, Mr. Maze, that I was serious about the fee. Doesn't matter if it's a dream."

The moment Rickter asked for help, the familiar image of the Orkhan janitor whom he had spoken with in a dark, quiet corner of Zaichaer months ago appeared. As last time, Imogen was dressed in the uniform of the Pfenning, though her dreaming form did not include the rickety maintenance trolley. She didn't bother to look at the warrior crouching near her feet, but turned to survey the sea of shadowy figures, squinting through the walls of Dawnfire.

"Where do you keep picking these up, anyway?"

Still, it was nice to have a simple objective. No speeches by weird astral warriors today, just a weird nightmare sea of shadows. Practically relaxing!

The Sunsinger held her right hand to one side, materializing a perfectly ordinary zweihander, which she gripped as lightly as though it were a rapier. Her shield faded into being over her left arm, a silvery circle which shone brightly with the reflected light of the dome. Two lengths of argent light elongated behind Imogen, crossing in the air in line with her shoulders, before fading into material form- one, a long, golden spear, the other a (much shorter) wooden quarterstaff. As the materialization of the pact weapons completed, each of them erupted into an aura of argent fire, a sight which would ordinarily have been magnificent and awe-inspiring except that they were both already surrounded by the fire of Eminence and so actually it was rather hard to see shit.

Finally, Imogen's long white tail unfurled behind her like a tiny flag. It did not burst into fire. That would have signaled a serious malfunction of at least one of her runes.

Imogen swung her sword out through Rickter's barrier in broad sweeps, catching one of the shadow monsters off-guard, tearing it in half and sending its neighbors scattering. With another effort of will, she sent her two polearms to other sides of the kneeling Rickter, weaving between her impromptu client's own floating swords. Limned with the sun-hued flame, they drove back the creatures, burning at a touch and threatening to incinerate the dark briar-swords.

Her strokes were immaculate, but she did not fancy trying to repel monsters in every direction at once. Thankfully (and bizarrely) she had prepared for just such an occasion as this. While she swung to create distance with her sword, Imogen laid her left hand on the back of her floating great-targe, touching the Somnosyte which she had worked into the composition of the pact weapon a month prior. The flaming aura around the shield shifted subtly as the magic of the stone infused the spellbreaker fire, rendering it proof against nightmares. Another shadow creature, stumbling through Rickter's barrier, swung at Imogen, who easily blocked the briar-coated sword with the shield. Silvery cracks spun outward through the weapon as the empowered pact shield quelled it, and Imogen ran the disarmed shade through.

"Well that's... two of them."

Only an infinity more to go!

[Hector]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

► Show Spoiler

- - -

- - -

When Hector went to sleep that night, it was a little different than the average night, if only because he was exhausted and fell into a much deeper slumber than usual. At first, his dreams were more or less strange abstractions that varied from familiar to foreign, shifting strangely as they went on, but eventually, he found himself swimming in the depths of…well, he had no idea what. All he knew is that it was cold, wet, black all around him and that he couldn’t breathe.

This felt far more vivid than his normal dreams, so much so that in the moment, he'd forgotten he even was asleep despite the fairly absurd circumstances. He felt panic begin to rise in his chest as he struggled to swim in a direction he thought was up, desperate to find a surface. Any time he opened his eyes, he saw nothing but pitch black void. He felt himself running out of air, desperate to not choke and lose more. In the waking world, he'd often take unnecessary risks with flagrant disregard for his life. And yet despite that, being here in a situation he thought was very much real, he struggled desperately to live.

As the grains in his hourglass thinned and what oxygen he had neared depletion, he finally broke through to the surface. At first, he felt relief, gasping for the breath he so desperately needed, but then…he was falling. The world had turned upside down? Though he had thought he was swimming upwards, he was now tumbling down through the air. Landing with a thud in a crumpled heap, he was thoroughly disoriented.

But he was not alone; he'd arrived some minutes after Rickter's call to aid, when more of the things had the time to spawn and advance. From where he'd fallen, he was still unnoticed by the creatures that stirred around him. In the distance, however, he saw strange beings made of the same type of void his aidolon was or at least, they looked like they did. Surrounded by them was a man he only felt vague familiarity for. Hector couldn't consciously pull up a memory to properly recognize him and was puzzled by the fact that there was even a dash of familiarity to be found at all. Maybe he'd seen him on the streets of the Imperium at some point? Either way, now was not the time to be grappling with his memories– he had to prepare before the shadow men noticed him.

Sharing the man's golden barrier was a rather tall woman– Orkhan? She, he knew for sure, he did not recognize.

Wanting to not die, Hector expelled a bit of aether to call his aidolon to his side. Then, he rushed to perform a Gilded Summon, sending tendrils of his aether out into the sea, calling primarily to eldritch beings. The loose terms he'd set were more of a call to action than anything else; defend me and in doing so, get the chance to flaunt power, destroy things, perhaps consume the shadow things, etc.

Hector was hoping to summon something combative, violent in nature that would fight just for the sake of fighting. He wanted something powerful that he could wield in his defense and then send away once safe, but really, he was desperate– anything would do. Then…he felt an answer. A boisterous one; wild and violent, just like he wanted. Immediately, he was filled with excitement as the spirit made manifest before him.

It was a dark thing; human in silhouette, the being was roughly eight feet tall, lithe in figure, and covered in robes of shifting shadows the texture of silk. Interwoven with this ethereal fabric was an oozing liquid the texture of blood and a thick, bright gel-like substance that resembled magma. These things constantly drifted over the being's thin frame, face fully obscured, arms, legs and neck much longer than one would expect– the thing was odd, and though it encapsulated many horrific elements, Hector found it beautiful. In its hands, it wielded two thin, curved blades that glowed white hot, almost blue near the tips, fading into bright, smoldering oranges near the hilt. It looked like an angel forged in blood and flame.

It cackled when it saw Hector, registering the desperate fear in his eyes. Underneath, however, there was hope and anticipation. The spirit he'd summoned, he could tell from its aetheric signature, was a Higher being…the second most powerful class there was. Thus, he was deeply thankful but also excited to watch it move.

Kneeling down to reach eye level with Hector, "What do you want killed?" It had no eyes, no face, yet it stared at the elf as if it truly saw him.

"Those– shadow beings! Leave…leave the man alone, just the shadows, you're free when nothing hostile is left…but also, what is your name?" He spoke quick, quiet, frantic.

The purpose of asking for a name was so that he could summon this thing again in the future if he so desired.

"Xiuh'teztli. Conditions…accepted." Again, it laughed, and oh, what a laugh. Loud, piercing, of pitches both high and low. Its voice was like that of a crazed crow, perhaps an old crone who'd lost their mind, discordant and eerie.

"You, too, Tirspi– spread out, passively leech the aether from these things," Hector whispered now to his aidolon once the strange, dark angel turned to walk towards the fray.

The cloud beneath his feet floated off, spreading its 'body' thin like a fog, engulfing the area and everyone in it. Well, except for anything touched by eminence. It was not a fan of that. It only extended up to about three feet, allowing everything with eyes freedom to retain freedom of sight. Slowly, it began to fuse parts of itself into each of the shadow men, forming a link between them from which it would begin to consume their essence.

As for Hector himself, he used Vicissitude to grow claws and fangs then bit into his forearm, drawing blood. He dashed forward, haphazardly closing the distance between himself and the two within the glowy barrier. Once there, he utilized his Thaumaturgy to draw blood from his wound and painted a rune beneath his feet. Invoking his aether, he empowered the rune and felt his body begin to warm. While standing within this rune, he would regenerate blood much faster, though it also made him more sensitive to impact.

Drawing yet more blood, he converted large amounts of it into eight long chains, all tipped off with a sharp meat hook. They originated from Hector's back; four on each side, they floated up and outward around him like strange wings. Once the fusion of blood and metal hardened, he could wield at will with Thaumaturgy. From blood loss, he could feel himself grow weak. However, now that he was armed, he would be extremely difficult to approach.

While he was preparing his weapons, Xiuh'teztli had reached the shadow men and began…ruining them, frankly. Its approach had been slow, but once it engaged, the thing was unnaturally swift in movement. As it cut through one with perfect grace, its swords burst into flames, hacking and burning another of the creatures apart. Spinning like a whirlwind, its movements were uncanny, limbs and joints bending unnaturally. There were several points at which it would look like it should have broken bones. However, this black amalgam of its body had no skeleton and thus could fling limbs around as it pleased. It looked like it was enjoying itself as it decimated its prey before moving on to another.

Joining the spirit in kind, Hector flung his chains at anything that came near him. For the first one, he hit it hard enough to knock over, to which he would proceed to bludgeon it out of existence with heavy strikes from multiple chains. Another, he would hook a few chains into and rip it apart from multiple directions, flinging the broken pieces at a third before the parts dissipated.

Though efficient, there were more of these things forming. He was concerned about being overwhelmed despite the presence of both spirits and the other mortals– how many could there be?

- - -

Aidolon Speech

'Thoughts'

"Kathalan Tongue/Speech"

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

"Mythrasi Tongue/Speech"

[Vanessa Quill]

The Queen Bitch burst from the sea as a towering pillar of flame. The grand airship burned brightly as the night she died. The defiant old girl even carried with her the same wounds from the night Vanessa had laid her down. She was gored open, ash and timber spilling out from her hull like innards, and hungry flames gnawed endlessly at every inch of wood. Even the gasbag's metal frame had begun to buckle, roiling flames having long since burned down the lacquered fabric meant to keep the ship aloft and now seeking to turn her to slag.

The Queen Bitch fully breached the waves like an apex predator, and pitched on her side when she came crashing down in a twisted scream of wood and steel. Waves rippled the once peaceful sea, and the ship surrounded itself with froth and burning debris once she settled. The angle of the fall was no accident, thankfully, with the Queen Bitch now forming a blazing palisade with her full broadside brought to bear against the beasts of shadow.

Vanessa could be seen at the helm, holding fast to a burning rope as she looked out across the endless sea from her new perch on the taffrails. Her expression was hard, hollow eyes, tightly set jaw, and lips pulled to a line. All the while, flame wreathed about her, almost alive in its desire to leave her unharmed. After a moment, Vanessa raised her arm and swept it directly forward in line with the ship's cannons.

"Fire!"

Her bellowed order carried even through the din of battle, harsh and unquestionable at once. Though there was no visible crew manning the cannons, flames lit the fuses and the entire broadside of twenty cannons erupted in a deafening display of might. Cannonballs and grapeshot screamed death, and entire lanes of the fell creatures simply disappeared as cannonballs punched through the formation. Great pockets also formed wherever grapeshot had been fired giving the ship and the other assembled fighters some much needed breathing room as the shadowed beasts moved to close ranks once more.

Vanessa leapt from the taffrail, and her sword rasped when she drew it from its sheath. While It had been great luck that she was pulled from her dreamscape with the cannons already loaded, she didn't fancy preparing another broadside without runners. Instead she floated a few inches above the waves with her back to the burning hull, lit like a demon as she lashed out with cold, resigned calculation. Limbs hewed and skulls split as Vanessa chummed the water with each brutal swing, and she parried blows like she'd been given a week to prepare for their arrival.

It was only after cutting her way through at least a dozen of the creatures did she notice she was not alone. Vanessa was rarely 'alone' in her dreams, but they were often filled with reminders of the dead and dying instead of... whatever was happening here. At least, she thought, this was a new sort of night terror. She was beginning to grow used to the old ones!

"Fuck me, there's no end to the bastards." Vanessa's voice of authority resounded again over the ranks of the damned. "We need a plan or we're just stallin' for time."

[Avamande]

Avamande was not surprised that they dreamt about the sea. They had been mulling over the matter of a ship for some days, and the coming dawn would force them to finally make a decision one way or another about the nautical adventure they found themselves involved with. No, it was not at all strange that their dreams were of the sea.

Nor, for that matter, was it strange that that their dreams involved Rickter Maze. Long had their sleep been filled with that man's troubles of late, and many wondrous and strange excursions had been had. But to call upon them now of all times, when they had at last had prosaic problems, was enough to make Avamande wonder if they had angered some deity or spirit.

Perhaps as a salve, their mind had at least granted them the pleasure of entering the dream within the air. Flying had swiftly become their favorite activity - almost as soon as they had mastered the ability - and to open their eyes with nothing but the open sky above and around them, even with shadow and flame below, was a very welcome sight.

Until, that is, an eruption of sound and smoke and flame from the beached wreck of an airship ruined even that simple joy.

Forced to consider the situation on the beach, the soaring form of Avamande did what was simplest. They fell. After ascending to the apex of their flight, they ceased powering the magic of their Rune, and let gravity do its work. A black star raced towards the earth, the tails of their coat flapping about them as they burst forth from the clouds.

Thoroughness demands that it be noted that Avamande was a very slight figure, with most of their weight coming from their height, and that an impact of their body at the sort of speeds from falling from such a height would at very worst make a horrible mess for any janitors in the area. Fortunately, hurling themselves at the ground was not the plan. Well. At least not by themselves.

A thin trickle of aether began to flow through Avamande's Rune of Kinetics once more, but not to slow or stop their fall. Far below them, a torrent of sand began to whirl and spin into a column that reached heavensward, the blossoming forth behind the falling Hytori into a broad circle. Falling at the same rate as the mage, the collected grains were artfully sculpted into a Rune of titanic proportions, one that taxed the limits of their craft.

Experienced Traversers would have had a moment to understand the sight - a massive glyph of Railway that suddenly blanked out the sky. They felt themselves begin to Overstep as they willed their magic into the pictograph, the object made of mere sand, their sight and hearing skipping about the battlefield as they heard what Vanessa heard and saw what Hector saw, but still they pushed through. Blood began to run down their face as they jumped from mere headache to far more dangerous territory in mere moments, and for a moment it seemed that Avamande had elected a very strange form of suicide. And then...

Behind the falling mage, a star fell from the sky.

It passed through the opened portal without a sound, its immense majesty enough to announce itself. The portal snapped shut before its full bulk had transitioned through, sheering it in half as a rain of sand graced its surface as Avamande was forced to release their grip on power. With one feeble effort, they righted themselves in mid-air, but only long enough to gain a foothold upon the rock they had wrested from the heavens.

So, together, they continued to fall.

[Rickter]

He looked on down beyond his reflection to see deep beneath the surface, the rising flickers of lights from others that had received his call. The first to manifest right next to him one warrior he'd certainly hoped he'd be seeing again, for even her mere presence instilled reassuring confidence in the wolf when he saw her stand. He looked up from the water with a hefty chuckle, when Imogen reminded him of the exterminator's fee.

"We'll have to talk details after the work is done I'm afraid!" He enthused with his gaze set on the Ork, as she set about to examine the situation around them. "Honestly, it's a bit of a long story. One I'd love to share when we're not occupied with an invasion."

Because there was no other way for him to see it right now. Whatever this curse was it had finally sought to invade his soul, and if his ancestor's final warning was anything to consider... "Stay your course, but don't let any of these things cut you!" Judging from the briars decorating them and their weaponry, these were just more than just shadow entities like before.

Shadow did not have full reign in his heart yet, and yet, even so, there were even darker forces threatening to claim it still. The wolf watched as Imogen gradually materialized weapon after weapon, likely to assume full command of her arsenal or so he suspected.

Regardless one of the floating bastard swords above him pivoted to respond to Rickter's thought, as he cast the blade out to Dance around Imogen as she started to get to work. Her posture and stride both were magnificent to briefly glimpse before he shifted his attention, and sent the other three blades whirling into a spiral toward the other side of the barrier.

Each bastard sword flung into a trajectory that sheered through at least one or two shadows at a time, culling yet another five to seven from their flank before Imogen worked her way around. It was a moment of pure synergy between two veteran Reavers, before the second light that arrived finally sprawled into the safety of the Dawnfire barrier.

Another soul he had yet to meet within the waking world. Regardless, tampered down on the resonance he felt humming within his core, determined to focus on the fight and worry about the impressionable details afterward. "What the-" The young Elf actively reached out once he'd tapped into his aether, and in activating the Grand Summon there came a ripple effect across the waters from outside the barrier.

The wolf felt the entirety of his core shudder at the amount of power expelled into the summoning, as Rickter experienced a near overload of auditory ringing in his ears before the creature manifested.

What the Elf had summoned was something that honestly looked like one of the wolf's terrifying nightmares. Granted everything he had already survived thus far, it wasn't actually saying much about the wolf's general choice of nightmare specifically. When the ringing in his ears died out Rickter staggered a moment, if only to briefly clasp at his chest from the well of energy he felt spurring within.

"Make sure your companions are protected!" The wolf warned to Hector as he looked from them down to witness the aetherial-haired Elf perform Blood Magic, a sight that briefly alarmed Rickter before he remembered another Vampyre of a high caliber.

Obviously with his repeated warning by now, Rickter's point had hopefully been made clear to those that joined. These cursed entities were not something you wanted to be injured by, not when every fiber in the wolf's own being commanded to expel them completely. The tricky question behind that was how...

Still, he threw his blades out to dance around the two allies that had joined him, while the summoned entities present also went out to make war against the outer shadows beyond the barrier. It was getting to be useless though. More and more were teeming as they threatened to overwhelm one side of the barrier, or the other, when each time the three moved about to cleave yet another rising wave against their last defense.

Until...

Another flash from beneath the waters just outside the ring, this time the light expanded massively before the third soul that heeded his call came through. He did not recognize her outright but through the Echo, he felt a touch of destiny shared with the woman, as Vanessa's grand entry into the dominion of his soul followed with a hail mary of cannon fire. Dozens and dozens of entities were obliterated by bellowing thunder that boomed from the towering blaze that set other shadows ablaze. The carnage decimated the forces that threatened to quell them, but at the same time, Rickter felt the constant chaos accelerate his heart rate a bit faster than normal. He hadn't suspected such powers taking a toll on him, but then again, it showed just how very little he knew about any magic related to the soul.

Nonetheless, the arrival of their third companion Vanessa was welcome, as it brought them a moment's reprieve before the next wave of shadows started to swell. With the outer waters cresting the forces of corruption already sought to teem together once more, and for a moment Rickter considered that the sky pirate might actually be right. "Aye! We just need that time is all!" He urged as he clutched at his core once more, his heart momentarily strained before the pain of the Echoes subsided once more. "Hold them back until-" He saw another flash on the surface of the water beneath him, and then within the skies above he felt the familiar presence of their fourth arrival.

Avamande.

Rather quickly the wolf looked up to see what the man would conjure, before he felt that final wave of resonance assault his core once more. "Damn!" It was immensely powerful. Whatever the Hytori was calling here would be immense, so much so that Rickter worried at the expense of Avamande himself. The wolf about fell onto one knee as several of his blades began to dissipate, his hand clawed tightly onto the spiritual blue raiment he had donned since arriving here. A huge pictograph of some kind formed into the sky, out of sand, before the very air above bellowed into a contortion that suggested the ripping of space itself. The Elf was pulling something massive through, only for it to be sheered in half before its full body could completely pass through the generated portal within.

From the very heavens, a meteor looked to descend from the sky, as it filled the darkened clouds with thunder and flashes on its way down. Given its course of direction, the wolf's eyes widened as he looked at those who were gathered near him. Well... That would certainly do the trick.

"Stay within the center!" Rickter urged everyone while he stood tall and pressed his hands together, first in the gesture of a prayer sign, before several folds and digit arrangements signaled a transition of hand signs before pulling his palms apart. Aether swirled vibrantly around him in the form of the northern lights, with silver seen shimmering within the heart of the rays, before a barrier dome swirled into crystallization around the four aground. As the anchor within his palms thrummed with a vibrancy of aether he set the wards into place, tasking the immediate layer with impact negation before generated the next layer.

Within seconds the crystal dome around them radiated in response to the perimeters the wolf set in place. The barrier was set to not just ward off the unstoppable force of a meteorite coming from above, but to also reactively unleash all the aetheric backlash it could generate into the ring of fire around them. He did not know what this would entail, but Rickter at least wanted to make sure all of his companions were safely inside the barrier. "Avamande! Teleport inside now!!" He commanded as the meteorite drew closer toward their location on the ocean, the rain of burning sand the first to drizzle and reflect off the crystal barrier.

Aether immediately sizzled and backlashed off the top of the dome, though not enough to feed into the Dawnfire barrier he'd generated. Not just yet. The thunderous sound of the meteor soon overwhelmed everything, as the half of a celestial body generated an ominous wave of sonic force before its initial impact. Moments when blinding light engulfed the barrier all around them, the crystalline dome cracked in several places before the severity of the spell went unleashed. From across the detonation zone where the meteor had hit, an intense blast of light gushed from where the point of impact had been made. Waves and waves of Dawnfire soon surged and roiled out across the ocean, spurred to life by the chaotic energies that seeped into the foundation of the soul.

The wolf strained even more as the bear continued to crack even further, the threshold of power nearly too much for Rickter to completely ward off alone. Yet he tried with all his might, to continually maintain that ward, to push beyond the boundaries that threatened him with exhaustion. Until at last the immensity in the pressure started to gradually wane, and the meteorite's force of detonation finally ceased to course throughout the dome's threshold. What looked to have been an impossible battle just moments ago, now looked like a vacant space of white all around them, save for the calm waters that stilled beneath their feet.

The brightness faded until finally light itself started to fade away, and the near destroyed barrier finally dissipated to reveal things as they were before. The Foundation of Ocean remained completely intact, and somehow cleansed even, as lingering dawn threatened to rise over the eastern horizon once more. He held his breath for only a moment before realizing that this time peace would last, and therefore, finally collapsed onto his knees with a noticeably exhausted sigh. They had done it. Far quicker than he anticipated but they had quelled the corruption for now, and while the wolf had no idea for how long, he wasn't going to waste this opportunity to meet with his defenders personally before sending them off.

And so Rickter gradually stood, rather weakly, as he looked a little paler in comparison to when he'd first started. Still, his heart beat regularly as it did before, and though the skirmish clearly took a toll, it seemed as though Rickter would recuperate gradually as well. "Everyone alright?" He checked with deep pants, quick to inspect everyone present before breaking into discussions.

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Dialogue" Thought

[Imogen]

For the first few moments, Imogen focused on defense. Rickter had declined to explain exactly what the shadowy monsters were, but the idea that you shouldn't let shadow monsters plunge their vile thornswords into your flesh was pretty intuitive. As dream symbolism went, this assault was admirably direct.

And defense was a relatively simple matter, thanks to her shield. She relied on the Pact weapon heavily enough in the waking world, to be sure; but here, filled with the Spellbreaker's fire and infused with the energies of the dreamstone she'd procured from the Pfenning, it would have taken an archmage to break her guard.

(This is foreshadowing.)

Imogen tried to sneak glances as Mr. Maze summoned more people to his dream. There was the purple-haired man first, who summoned a shadow with a sword and then began drawing chains out of his own flesh (that wasn't Reaving, was it? If it was, someone had taught the young lad very wrong); that was very weird to watch, but the calming aura of her dreamshield kept Imogen from freaking out. There was something she didn't like about the shadow, though she had no time to confront her own feelings.

Next came a young w- hold on, wasn't that Vanessa, from the Theater? Did she have cannons?

"You didn't say we could bring artillery!" This dream was getting very strange, very fast.

Still, with Mr. Maze's dawnfire, the young man's... uh, weapons... and Vanessa's cannon bombardments because apparently that was fine, the pressure on her to hold a defensive position swiftly vanished. Given the number of enemies, she chose to fulfill Mr. Maze's internal prediction and released her sword, relying upon her floating shield to keep her unharmed. Imogen brought her hands together, as if in prayer, and shut her eyes tightly, remembering the maneuver she had pulled off in the Pfenning a month prior.

With an act of sheer will, Imogen began to manifest silver-limned copies of the golden spear which Master Gerhard had gifted her. Each weapon shimmered into being a dozen meters above Imogen, hanging in the air only long enough to accrue a manifest form, then lanced outward. The Sunsinger fired off one magic spear, then another, then two at once, then three. After a moment, spears were raining down from above Rickter's dome in every direction as if an army were hurling them in waves of rank; as each impacted a shadowy being or the watery ground, they erupted in bursts of silver flame, tearing through the creatures like... well, like fire does to any shadow, really.

It was a real effort- the Rune of Reaving was not truly meant to do this, but no great magic could be accomplished without some boundaries being pushed. And unlike the Pfenning, where she'd unleashed hundreds of swords in the span of an instant, this small use of her Arsenal was not immediately enervating. Perhaps, with practice-

Imogen's mirror-polished shield, dancing serenely before her, suddenly began to shine a bright red. It took the Orkhan woman a moment to realize that this was not some change in her pact weapon, but a change in the light it was reflecting. In fact, the whole dark ocean in Rickter's mind was starting to glow an ugly red. What was the-

The Sunsinger looked up, and immediately stopped manifesting spears, her spell ended by sheer shock. The goddamn moon appeared to be descending rapidly towards the earth, and it was being ridden by-

"THE STORE CLERK?!"

You must forgive Imogen this somewhat hypocritical shock. Even playing a janitor for years while being an expert witch does not really prepare the mind to suspect other service professionals of having the power to summon forth Armageddon. This is the eternal irony of the working class mage.

Seeing little else to do, Imogen dived towards the center of Mr. Maze's barrier, then brought her shield down on top of herself. It was like getting into a refrigerator to survive a nuclear bomb, but it was the only thing that came to mind.

~~~

When Imogen the Sunturtle emerged from her shield, she discovered that she was still alive.

(Or was she still alive? Wasn't Nod where the souls of the faithful went, to be received by their respective divine patrons? Maybe one of the many gods she'd propitiated over the years had actually decided to hold on to her after death? Heh heh heh. Sucker.)

In fact, everyone seemed to be alive, even the store clerk. Imogen fought off a wild impulse to stab the prone hytori where they lay, to prevent them from waking back up and summoning any additional flaming mountains. There was no point in acting rashly, even in a dream. Maybe especially in someone else's dream- she didn't know the etiquette of that.

"Yeah, sure, I'm all right. What the hell was all that, though?"

[Hector]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

► Show Spoiler

- - -

- - -

As more and more figures joined the fray, Hector found himself perplexed at the recognition with which these people regarded one another. Was he the only total stranger of the group? If yes, why? Had he somehow intercepted a distress call meant primarily for friends of the original reaver? How much danger was he really in for having accepted such a call? These questions reeled in his head as the chaos spiraled around him, unable to really put much focus on anything but his own casting meant in self-defense.

His pointed ears quirked and his head turned in the man’s direction when he was spoken to, however. Hector only responded with a nod regarding the spirits at his command. Worst case scenario, he could flex his æther and return them to the Ætherium from whence they came. But for now? Such a thing was not necessary.

Xiuh'teztli was consummate in its apparent martial prowess, cutting through anything that advanced towards it to pieces, searing through the shadows as its blades roared to life, burning ever brighter with each creature it destroyed. In many respects, it would appear that the thing’s swords were absorbing the æther of everything it killed.

On the other hand, his aidolon was actively planting roots in the advancing shadows, siphoning out their æther as quickly as it could manage. Some would fade into something frail the longer the spirit held on while others would dissipate entirely, consumed by the spirit’s voracious appetite. While the shadow spirit dare not enter the demesne of light provided by somebody’s Eminence emblem, it could assist in weakening or slaying anything outside of it.

As for Hector himself, he wielded his hemocrafted chains with the skill and grace of a caster possessing unparalleled skill. Easily managing all six at once, he wove them into the fight tactically, some offensively culling the shadowmen and others striking in defense of an ally, hooking into the things and ripping them away before they could come close enough to land a blow. He kept his focus the entire time, even with the crash of an airship in the midst of everything else. There was a strange comfort the boy found in chaos like this.

But then…something did draw his eye away from the combat before him. Somebody up in the sky was…summoning something? No…this was a portal. And coming through that portal was a meteor. Though it ended up being sheared in half, the incredible mass of the thing caused Hector much distress. The sheer impact of it would destroy everyone here if they weren’t protected.

In short order, the male reaver that’d been here since the start strained himself to create negation wards against the blast. This wouldn’t protect Hector’s spirits, this he was very much aware of, since neither could safely enter their little circle. With that, the Summoner sent a flex of his aether rippling through the air, dismissing both his aidolon and the additional ally he’d called forth. With a flash of magic, Xiuh'teztli flickered out of sight and the dark fog that roiled through the battlefield faded. All that was left for him to do was brace for impact.

Unable to look away, the meteor’s impact was blindingly bright, the force of which was being reflected outward by an additional field of negation. That was really rather smart, actually. Though everything appeared to move in slow motion, he watched as all of the shadows were ripped into nothing, this one massive spell having cleared the entire field.

Once it was over, the Negation mage, exhausted, asked if everyone present still drew breath. The first to answer was an Orkhan woman, the other reaver. Hector briefly looked to the Hytori who’d summoned the meteor lying prone on the ground. He was…unsure about their fate, but he could speak of his own.

“I am no worse for wear, but I did have to dispel my Summons…not really part of the contract to let them die,” he said with a bit of a nervous laugh.

- - -

Aidolon Speech

'Thoughts'

"Kathalan Tongue/Speech"

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

"Mythrasi Tongue/Speech"

[Vanessa Quill]

"Wasn't aware we could!" Vanessa shouted back to Imogen, easily batting aside another one of the briar-blades with the flat of her cutlass. A swift wrench of her wrist sent the point of the blade goring through the shadow creature's hollow eye socket, and Vanessa counted another one dead as it slumped down into the frothy sea. Her mastery of the blade was apparent, but nevertheless there was a limit to the speed at which she could return these damned beasts back to whatever pit they'd crawled from. She was glad then that Imogen picked up the slack this time, still having held that she herself had carried the team at the Pfenning despite Imogen's dazzling display back then. Everyone was the protagonist of their own stories, after all.

As the spears rained down, Vanessa cheered wordlessly. The display rallied her, and she again began hacking through the nearest apparitions with renewed fervor. So great was her fury that she hadn't even noticed the darkening of the sky behind her burning ship. Not until Imogen shouted out in surprise, and Vanessa's head snapped up in frenzied preparation to strike.

Only to see a meteor cleaved in two crashing down from the heavens with, well this 'store clerk' fellow riding it, she supposed. Without thinking, Vanessa erupted again in wild excitement.

"YES! FUCK YES!"

What other reaction could there be to something like this? She watched the star fall until she caught even Imogen making for cover out of the corner of her eye, and Vanessa surged through the air behind the ork, back turned so she could still watch the light show. Hey, this was the most optimistic dream she'd had in years, she was going to enjoy the visuals! And what visuals they were, the dazzling lights, the cracking of the barrier, and the funeral pyre of her ship bathing everything in a warm, incendiary glow before the vessel was swallowed by the sea.

"That was a comet." Vanessa answered Imogen, misunderstanding the question. "Not twin-tailed or nothing, but still." She looked over the group again, and gave Hector a raised brow. "You've been busy. Nice tricks, though." She rolled her shoulder, then stowed her blade back in its scabbard. "Looks like we're all fine, more or less."

Then she looked over to Rickter. "What the fuck were those pit-spawned things?" She asked, unaware she was simply reiterating Imogen's question.

[Avamande]

Let justice be done, by the heaven's fall.

A sundered star soared through the sky, its passage through this world announced by wind and flame. The air itself was warped and wounded by its cruel descent, the tumbling ball of rock heated white-hot as the jealous atmosphere about it sought to rob it of its swiftness. Upon the very height of the stolen fragment of the firmament, there desperately clung a miniscule, black, speck. This was the mage's finest work, a dream so terrible it could be brought to life only within a dream.

From far below, a voice thundered inside of Avamande's head, the sound carrying impossibly far. Rickter's voice. The Hytori had dangerously overstepped, their very senses haphazardly skipping across the field, but they saw enough to understand. A safeguard was being constructed, one that would they and the others could take shelter in from the fury that they had just unleashed. If they could just get there, a task that was far more difficult for the thoroughly exhausted mage than ordinary.

They trusted Rickter, and believed that he would only ask of them what he thought best. And so they forgot their own, far more dangerous, plan to survive the impact, and relinquished their grip upon their stolen star. From below, it was impossible to distinguish from the fragments flying off of the massive rock every moment, but high in the sky Avamande fluttered end over end, focusing the last ebbs of their power.

Every ounce of focus and will went into picturing the shielded space on the beach, Avamande witnessing the sight of their salvation from every angle possible. Their body stuttered in mid-air through the half-starts and failed casts, their aether too low to bring them all the way. Their head felt ready to burst as they called upon their deepest reserves, blood flowing freely through the sky as they tapped the last strength of their soul and-

Blink.

It was not a dignified landing for the mage. Avamande materialized underneath the ward face first into the sand, wounded, overstepped, but alive.

And then, bang.

When Avamande finally rolled themselves over onto their back, the normally fastidious Hytori making no attempt to do anything so bold as stand, it had felt like an age had passed.

"Lord Rickter," they croaked out, sounding half dead, "How many times does this make?" Avamande asked, their serious tone of voice undermined by the smile splitting their face. Not even they could fail to be happy after the power that they had called down.