EVENT #20: ADVENT - IC EVENT LOG

[abraxasmods]

Event #20 - Advent

OOC Event Log ⦁ The Gods ⦁ NPCs

The Badlands has remained contested territory between Thorne and the Free Cities for many years. During a mediation two years ago, a resolution was attempted but fell apart. The Badlands is valued for being the direct route toward the Singularity...meaning it was only a matter of time before conflict broke out over it.

Early in AUGUST, Thorne and the Free Cities begin to march on the Badlands. The clash is bloody and violent, taking place exclusively on the ground. Although the Free Cities military has its share of firearms, such things are still rare and expensive. Most of the fighting, as expected, makes use of horses, swords, arrows, and - of course - magic.

The territories won't call upon Summoned like yourselves. You are meant for something more important. If you insist on joining the fight, they may approve depending on who you are and what you plan to do. Soon, however, a powerful force emerges, one far bigger than just another clash of swords.

This event draws on a previous event involving the Heralds of War. Knowledge of this past event is not necessary, but you may review the information for added context if you wish!

The consequences of Solvunn's choice in Event #18 occur at the end of the event. The result of this act will be further detailed in the Wrap-Up.

Overture

The return of the Heralds might stir familiarity within some of you. You may recall how they whispered in your ears, planted visions of death, or corrupted the Horizon. This time, although their coming spreads across the land, you as the Summoned are remarkably resistant to the Gods' influences. Newer arrivals might be more susceptible, but those of you who have been here for months or years won't find yourselves afflicted much, if at all...until you start to make your choices.

As the Summoned, certain actions may open you up to vulnerabilities. Everything you do carries a weight. If you experienced the emergent reality, you'll likely have learned that lesson. You're not fully one of the Gods yet, but your connection to the Singularity means the magic that flows through you contains both a great capacity to help others and a cost that comes with it which you must consider.

A Taste of Blood

It begins sometime in mid-August, around the 16th onward. Not everyone will experience it at the same time. You might even believe you're spared until days afterward when you're visited by an unusually vivid dream.

The dream starts the same for everyone: you are going somewhere, anywhere, walking to your bedroom, or enjoying a stroll on the beach. You might be driving down a familiar neighborhood. Wherever you're headed, you find that the world around you shifts. Thin red veins spiderweb across nearby surfaces. As you press on, they become engorged with blood until they form a fleshy tunnel. A light at the end beckons you. You can turn around if you want, but aren't you curious?

If you proceed, you eventually come upon a beating human heart with your Arcana painted in gold. A swarm of large mosquitos quickly encase the heart, sucking it dry. As their abdomens become fat with blood, more and more join the swarm until it becomes a whirlwind of insects that gradually take on a large humanoid shape: bright red with blood with horns bent upwards like a lopsided crescent moon.

This is Zorne of Last Blood, the eldest of the Heralds of War.

The veins are pulled in by the insects, connecting one to the next and holding them in place like latticework of sinew. No longer obscured, the world that surrounds you is bleak and gray. A large sword materializes in Zorne's hand. Holding it aloft, he measures your resolve.

◎ If you have spilled blood, the blade begins to drip with it. The steel beneath glows hot, then begins to harden.
◎ If you have not spilled blood, the blade turns brittle, eventually falling to dust.

Zorne accepts you regardless. He sits down on his simple stone throne, laying the sword against the armrest. His eyes are thinly veiled sockets in a skull made of insects, downcast towards where you stand below his form. A thin layer of red skin stretches across his mouth with every word he speaks.

"The path...has been chosen. The snake has found its tail. Each new age rises from the ashes of its grave. It is...as it always has been."

Zorne holds the sword up again. Behind his throne, you glimpse the rays of a rising sun.

"A sword hardens in the fire. In the darkened hearts of mortals. Destruction heralds purification from madness.

All things end before they begin. Mortals, Gods, the smallest insect. And when it ends...we will be there. I will be there. And you...little godling...must find your place in that end."

The sun reaches its apex. It is blazing and fierce, as though it might soon swallow you in its fury - and then it does.

Do you feel at peace from its cleansing fire? Strengthened by it? Or is it purely unimaginable pain and fear that consumes you?

Zorne's sword measures the blood on your character's hands as perceived by them. A character who took only one important life to save the world may see as much blood on that sword as another who killed many to do the same.

Making Your Choices

Whether you believe Zorne or not, you must still do something, even if that something is nothing. As things unfold before your very eyes, you can decide whether you will aid the Heralds for what you may believe is the greater good, help the individuals you can't deny, or decline any involvement at all.

General Effects

Each territory will have a set of circumstances brought forth by a combination of human actions and the Heralds. Those who experienced the afflictions in the past may recognize that the Heralds never implanted or controled your thoughts. Instead, they showed you visions, whispered in your ear, or coaxed you to indulge the darker impulses that live inside you.

The same effect will take hold of the regular citizens now, whose dispositions play a large role in what the Heralds can influence and how much. This is made most obvious by the fact that children are the least impacted. The younger and the fewer their worries, the less vulnerable they are. Of those who are afflicted, the effect might manifest in ways that are more fitting of a child: dreams of a beloved pet dying, bullying a sibling, or giving in to the desire to steal a toy. Adults who are naturally and genuinely carefree may also fail to be affected by Koth's despair or Adlewyrd's poisonous thoughts.

Vulnerabilities

Your status as the Summoned affords you some protection. The longer you've been in Abraxas, the less open you will be to influence. However, depending on what you do, this might change.

◎ If you choose to counter a Herald's influences, you may inadvertently absorb the affliction's effects or experience a "bleedover" from the person you're helping. The more you do this, the more severe the impact will become. You might also be concerned by the new ability you're exhibiting when countering an affliction. Though the ability is small, you feel its power coursing through you. When you try to call on it outside of aiding others, however, nothing comes. It seems this ability only manifests when interacting with an afflicted individual.

◎ If you choose to enhance a Herald's influences, you may inadvertently absorb their abilities as yours and thus, in turn, spread them toward individuals who are nearby. This could occur deliberately or accidentally, depending on how much you desire to act as an extension of the Herald in your chosen territory.

◎ If you choose to ignore a Herald's influences, you'll receive no effects either way...but you might find it difficult to disregard what's going on around you.

For an OOC explanation of the mechanics regarding being a countering, enhancing, or neutral force, please review the Deciding Your Actions section on the OOC Plotting Post.

Patchwork Horizon

Luckily, the Horizon isn't intent on trapping any of you this time. Its instabilities instead manifest in your own domains. It might revert back to a previous state or older elements might resurface that you thought you got rid of. Or, it may take on transformations from a future version - the domain that you had as a God in the emergent reality. The more you've made yourself vulnerable, the more unstable your experience in the Horizon will become.

Further, these instabilities aren't limited to your domains. Effects from other domains might overwrite yours, or perhaps pieces of your domain are showing up in another's.

◎ For some, it might just be a minor inconvenience. Perhaps your flowers have transplanted onto somebody else's yard across the Horizon or your pet keeps teleporting around to everyone's domains except yours.

◎ For others, the effect might be more troubling. You could find private letters surfacing in a stranger's desk or you might open your closet to find another's buried skeletons.

Anything that ends up in someone else's domain will be missing in yours. Rather than a duplication, the effect is more like a jigsaw or a patchwork quilt. You can put it right, of course, with some concentration - but it's best done with a partner, especially someone who knows your domain well enough to help you reform it.

Setting a domain right will also repair any vulnerabilities its owner might've exposed themselves to, so it's a good idea to try and assist each other. Of course, if your concentration's off, attempts to fix a domain might actually make things worse, so be careful!

Arrival

The sections below will contain more specific prompts to help players jumpstart threads, but you may use the broad descriptions of each Herald's impact here to inspire your own ideas and scenarios.

The First Shadow

The arrival of the Heralds of War is subtle. For many citizens, they might not realize that there is a force exerted throughout the world. Indeed, how much of what happens can be attributed to the Heralds, and how much is simply human nature? That's a question even the Heralds can't and won't answer. They are only here to carry out the same task they have done since the dawn of time, each time a war brews.

Koth, the Kingdome of Thorne

Koth of Festering Lands brings with her death and rot. This affects vegetation, wildlife, livestock, the already dead...and the soul itself. She does not bring literal death to living people - she only brings it to the things around them and within them.

◎ Missing Warship
In Borrel, a naval warship on its way home to resupply goes missing. Led by an experienced captain and with no fighting taking place at sea (surely, even the Free Cities can't sail that quickly toward the western coast), the mysterious disappearance has many concerned. Unfortunately, some mages who attempt a common tracking spell report visions of bloated corpses sunk to the bottom while others dream of drowning, an effect so real they must be shaken awake. Many mages refuse to try the spell again, leaving it in your hands instead.

Each tracking spell can only vaguely locate an individual or a part of the ship, so multiple attempts are necessary. If you're not skilled in magic, you can take a more active role and board a rescue ship off the coast of Borrel. This ship will venture out based on the coordinates according to the spell...but take care: the sailors with you are prone to similar visions of drowning when they look into the blackened depths below. Others claim they see the faces of the dead in the ocean's surface. All of this leads to high tensions amongst the men and women on board.

It'll be possible to rescue a few sailors, but others may be lost entirely. The ship itself appears to have broken into pieces. Survivors report a grotesque undead leviathan that cannot be harmed or killed, though it's difficult to tell if this is true or another hallucination.

◎ Dukewood Lumber Mills
Previously a site of a dangerous rift, the lumber mill in the woods by Nott has since returned to normal. Unfortunately, that ends quickly when the trees begin to rot. Workers report a horrible smell that comes from the trees themselves, and that the normally clear sap has turned into a putrid black-blood substance.

To make matters worse, the rotting stores of food and now the dying trees are putting the workers and locals around Nott under great stress. Thoughts of despair are amplified by both the situation and Koth, leading to higher rates of drinking, which in turn has increased the amount of accidents at the mill, including mismanaged safety protocols and mishandled equipment.

Lumber is of great value during wartime, especially for the construction of naval ships, outposts, and weapons, so Castle Thorne is determined to help restore the trees, as well as calm the workers. You can help with everything from checking equipment to ensure they're safe, searching for any missing mill workers, providing first aid where necessary, or confronting beasts that might've been disturbed by all the commotion.

If you happen to fall under Koth's sway, you might also see the dead when looking into the waters as you rescue the other sailors. The bodies might reflect something you fear or they may be a reminder of a death that's already passed. You could also sink into despair or experience haunting dreams as you try to help another recover from their hopelessness.

Adlewyrd, the Free Cities

Adlewyrd of Poisoned Tongues brings with them words that poison the heart and mind. This affects thoughts and emotions, a slow and subtle influence that spreads.

◎ Untold Secrets
In Libertas, where underground networks thrive, sudden slips of the tongue, rising tempers, and impulsive actions have caused the black market to collapse into disarray. Between power struggles, accusations of betrayals, and missing transactions, the violence has spilled into the open.

Preoccupied with the battle, the number of guards and soldiers keeping order is reduced. Venturing into Libertas can be dangerous and those who live there, including artists and orphans, are struggling to go about their day-to-day without disruption. You can help calm tempers or break up fights...or maybe, if you're a bit more vulnerable to the influences yourself, you might become drawn into the chaos yourself.

Because of the limited number of hands, the Summoned are allowed to make an arrest, but you must bring the culprit to a guard outpost for formal processing. Taking matters into your own hands too severely can lead to scrutiny. Given the circumstances, however, a bit of non-fatal violence will be overlooked, especially if it takes place in the darker corners of Libertas.

You don't have to enforce the law, though. In Libertas, this enforcement is rather loose, anyway. Instead, you can mediate as a neutral party, take advantage to make a deal of your own, or simply offer your services to fill in any gaps that might've occurred in these networks. This could involve more illicit activities like transporting underground goods or something more above-board like searching for a missing person. Just be sure you don't draw too much attention if you're acting outside the law.

◎ The Red Path
Previously a site of a dangerous rift, the scenic Red Path leading between Cadens and Libertas has since been restored. Unfortunately, that ends quickly when conflicting reports cause an accident involving merchant wagons carrying silk, spices, and wine. Some claim the merchants are spies while others insist they were bandits in disguise.

Regardless, the accident leads to several fatalities and disturbs a monster nest: that of the dangerous Copper Spine Wyvern. It also draws swarms of hungry Kaskadura, the latter of which are lured by the corpses. While not normally aggressive towards the healthy and living, the Kaskadura seem to be in a frenzy and will bite just about anyone they see - and there's a lot of them, gathering over the area like a black cloud.

To make matters worse, a clerical error has slowed down the cleanup and identification process. If you're not inclined to fight monsters or locate missing bodies, you can help at Portam Hall to manually match names to surviving family members, as well as locate said family members to deliver the somber news. As for Portam Hall, the main hub of government activity might not be under threat from beasts, but isn't calm, either. Gossip, secrets, and missing paperwork plague the various departments and offices.

If you happen to fall under Adlewyrd's sway, you might read too deeply into an innocent comment or mishear a remark that raises your ire, leading you to snap wrongly at a friend or attack an innocent. You might also give into lurking temptations that surface as you try to help others overcome their dark desires.

Sannleikr, the Solvunn Commune

Sannleikr of Many Faces brings with him deception of the soul. This affects faces and minds, causing appearances to become distorted, untrustworthy, or altogether unrecognizable.

◎ Lost Herders
In the Secondary Settlement, a woman named Eydis has lost her prized herding dogs and her flock of sheep. They left one morning as usual to herd the sheep out to graze and never returned. She worries that rumors of livestock sprouting teeth are true and will harm her dogs. She isn't the only one, either. Several other sheep and goat herders have claimed their dogs and flocks have gone missing, too.

The dogs themselves have scattered across Solvunn. There are roughly a dozen dogs and several flocks that failed to return home. Should you run into any livestock, it would appear the rumors are indeed true: the normally fluffy sheep have grown wicked claws or horns while the goats bear their sharp fangs. Despite their fearsome appearance, however, they are not aggressive except when frightened. Keep them calm when herding them lest you provoke them to bite or claw.

As for the dogs, some might be wounded while others will growl at you. They don't recognize familiar toys or faces and will attempt to run away or behave apprehensively. You can use any abilities or techniques you have on hand to try and bring them home. After all, the Solvunn woods are dangerous, and there are many creatures within those dense trees that will strike.

◎ Living Statues
Previously a site of a dangerous rift, the Feintak Ritual Site, located just outside the Primary Settlement, has since returned to normal. Unfortunately, that ends quickly when confused citizens of the Commune begin to wander toward the area at night in search of their "missing" loved ones.

Unable to recognize familiar faces, some begin to see those faces imposed upon the statues at the site instead. You can find children playing with their "mother" or an elderly widow spending time with a "relative." While this would be disturbing enough on its own, the sacred area contains an ancient magic that, should any missteps occur, could be released into the world and spell disaster.

The Council has asked the Summoned to help bring home the lost folk of the Feintak site. They must be guided gently, as any negative energy could be absorbed by the dark power that lives in the earth and the statues. Victims of the affliction might become frightened of you or fail to recognize you even if you've been neighbors for months or years, making your task more difficult.

If you happen to fall under Sannleikr's sway, you might also begin to see faces in the statues at Feintak and forget the real figures around you. The faces might be friendly or they could be adversarial - an enemy or a source of shame. You may also see a twisted reflection of yourself in the mirror, representing something you've been trying to hide from.

The Final Coming

Zorne first spoke to you in your dreams, but his presence is noticeably absent for the first few days. Then, one week later, after one of the most fierce and bloody battles in the Badlands in recent history, a red sun rises over Abraxas. The morning's dawn is cast in a red glow across the territories.

If you met Zorne in your dream, you may recognize this very sun. You remember feeling its heat over your skin and the emotions it stirred in you, whichever they might've been.

By noon, the blood-red hue will fade...but Zorne's coming has only begun.

The Last Affliction

Unrestricted, Zorne's influence travels across the land and joins forces with his siblings.

◎ The Badlands

Forces from the Free Cities introduce a new prototype to the war: a semi-automonous suit of armor armed with a piece of technology derived from something that came through the rifts: a unique firearm that launches explosive discs imbued with New Magic.

The weapon's destructive capabilities wreck havoc on both people and the environment...inadvertently setting loose yet another creature of the rift - the swamp-like creature that researchers had been studying in the Badlands before the war broke out. Its giant mouth is lined with numerous teeth. Its breath can paralyze, blind, poison, and weaken anyone caught in it.

The morbol will move toward the borders of each territory throughout the event, so the Summoned in all locations can encounter it when arriving at the front lines to deliver medicine, supplies, or news. Zorne's influence appears to prevent it from dying. When killed, it respawns in another location - sometimes miles away.

◎ Forging the Soul

Zorne's influence can affect those who are already under the effect of one of the other three Heralds. A shopkeeper angry about a misspoken rumor might begin to have disturbing and violent dreams of confronting the offending gossiper. A soldier who sees his death at the hands of another may start to feel the urge to kill first before his turn comes.

Aggressive wildlife will begin to invade city borders. While most are stopped or killed before they enter a major city, one or two predators might slip through. Trade routes are disrupted. Nearly all caravans are halted except the most critical transports. Hunters and farmers begin to report disturbing sights of deer scavenging on corpses or butterflies biting as mosquitos do.

You, too, may experience similar dreams or desires if you've allowed yourself to become too vulnerable or exposed to the Heralds. The more you entertain such thoughts or let your guard down, the harder they become to ignore. As you move through your days, surrounded by turmoil and conflict, you may have to ask yourself if you're as above it all as you first thought.

And what about your friends? Your neighbors? After all, you might associate frequently with the other Summoned, but you've made connections with the native population, too. Perhaps the kindly innkeeper is now treating you with a suspicion she didn't used to exhibit. Maybe you hear that the baker across the street, who once offered you free sweet rolls, has been gravely injured by his own son.

As Zorne said, this is about forging peace through madness - or so the Heralds believe. Maybe, in the pandemonium and bloodshed around you, you begin to understand something important about yourself, your friends, or the world.

Beyond the Heralds

It's tough to deny that even without the Heralds, this conflict would be ongoing regardless. Neither Thorne nor the Free Cities has demonstrated any desire for peace. Solvunn seems to be considering their role, as well. Despite the war, life must continue for Abraxans: parents have mouths to feed, farmers have fields to sow, and professors continue to lecture and hold classes while they're able.

As the Summoned, you can engage in any of these elements. You can agree to take notes for a fellow student who's suffered an unfortunate attack after being mistaken for someone else. You could babysit for households who need an extra hand while their partner has been sent to fight. You can pack medicine, offer healing abilities, or bring supplies to units stationed by the Badlands.

You can also take on acts of diplomacy. This is not restricted to communicating with the leaders of your territory. Both Nocwich and the Nether have a relationship with the Summoned, which is something you can utilize. You might have to begin by sending a letter instead of meeting them directly, but if you're determined to find a peaceful solution, it's worth trying.

Individualized actions are entirely possible! We will discuss it on a case-by-case basis. You can SUBMIT YOUR REQUEST by replying to the comment with the form.

Please have a concrete goal in mind and try to keep your requests concise. We will do our best to accommodate everyone, but we may have to ask that you hold the request for after the event or ask you to revise it, depending on what you've submitted.

Departure

When the Heralds withdraw, it's quiet and as difficult to notice as their arrival. Did they vanish near the end of one of the battles? Did they leave days ago, the seeds they sowed flourishing without further intervention?

For the Summoned, it may be a bit easier to tell. Steadily, as the month comes to a close, the Horizon begins to stabilize once more. If you have been countering the Heralds, you find your ability no longer triggers, even if there remain those around you who behave as though they are still being influenced. You suppose it's fair to remember that the Heralds don't need to exert their powers for people to behave as they do.

The battle in the Badlands continues to wage...but on AUGUST 30, Thorne's troops receive abrupt orders to return home. It appears that, while the kingdom's forces were occupied on land, her naval warships were dealt a serious blow, handing a sudden victory to the Free Cities - but not by who you might predict.

The Hands of Solvunn

Solvunn has often refused to pledge for one side or another. The Council maintains that they are devoted to protecting their commune and their way of life, nothing more. They certainly have no army or weapons to speak of. Their disinterest in the Badlands conflict is expected, and neither Thorne nor the Free Cities consider it unusual that Solvunn has remained isolated.

What you might've wondered, however, is this: why have the Heralds visited Solvunn twice now when they spare genuinely neutral lands like Nocwich and the Nether?

A Guiding Light

After Thorne's retreat, news begins to travel. It moves through Solvunn and Thorne first, eventually reaching the Free Cities. Multiple stories surface about the sea in Borrel, not about the storm wall or Koth, but something else - a mysterious lighthouse and a thick fog that's obscured the waters for days.

Survivors of one destroyed warship, The Queen's Secret, return telling tale of a light that beckoned them during a heavy storm. But the lighthouse keepers in the western sea swear they saw no ships come their way. The ship itself seems to have crashed into a massive sea stack that should've been easily avoidable. What lighthouse could have drawn them near?

Over the next few days, this happens again and again. Sailors looking out from shore confirm that they can indeed see the flickering beam of a lighthouse. It stands proudly in a spot where no lighthouse was ever built.

Then, on the final day, the lighthouse moves.

Blessings Granted

Citizens gather seaside despite sailors and guards ashore attempting to send them home. They watch as a naval officer and his men are sent to investigate. As the lighthouse grows brighter, its hypnotic pulse begins to pull others forward. Fishermen and noblemen set sail on their own civilian ships. Sailors of the Royal Navy break rank and order, as if under a powerful compulsion, and set forth in Thorne's prized warships. One by one, ships big and small pull out of the harbor in the dead of night.

Witnesses report strange limbs emerging from the base of the lighthouse. The limbs do not strike or attack. Rather, they open up like a waiting embrace. They gently accept each vessel that sails towards the light. Then they enfold the ship and pull it down into the depths. To onlookers, it's a silent but horrifying affair. Each ship disappears until only bits of wreckage are washed ashore the following morning.

A surprising number survive by abandoning ship, though some captains choose to go down with their vessel. Having made a crippling dent in Thorne's Royal Navy, the lighthouse vanishes. Back on shore in the Tertiary Settlement, the storm wall finally vanishes.

The incident above will lead a few changes in Solvunn and to the borders of the Badlands. We'll detail those changes in the Wrap-Up!

---

Comments

[princeofruin]

[Time is of the essence, and in the Badlands... there are limits to the amount of prying eyes. Even still, Dion hesitates. There is a part of him that thinks that these are not his men. Worse still: they are the men who work for a traitor. A man who murders his own family.

But they are only soldiers. Perhaps some may even be slaves. They are trapped in a life they cannot fully control, and Clive...

Clive would think him a coward, he thinks, to keep his power to himself, to let men die, because he is afraid.

And he would be one.]

I will be there anon.

[He removes Jill's gloves from his hands, uncovering his claws, and stuffs them in a pocket. With a curl of his claws into his palm, ether crackles across his body, turning the air sour with the smell of ozone. He semi-primes tapping into the power of Bahamut with the ease of one donning a familiar coat. As two great dragon wings burst from his back, he leaps into the air with lance at hand... finally, after seasons upon seasons on the ground, taking to the winds.

The closer he comes, the easier it is to deduce the creatures: chimera, though mutated beyond those he knew well enough himself. He readies his lance, flying over the retreating soldiers. With a snap, he closes his wings against his back and dives... landing with his full strength behind his lance, impaling itself through the head of the lion, pinning it to the ground as it roars, wet with blood, underneath him. The wild swipes of its claws slice through his leg, blood joining blood, but Dion remains standing, holding it down with pumps of his wings as it struggles, blood now sprayed against the draconic horns adorning his head and the scales that have erupted over his body. He cannot look to see Kyle, but sends:]

Can you handle the other?

[A useful tool on the battlefield if it does not get lost in the chaos.]

[ushiri]

[ Kahlil retreated back into the Gray Space after his strike to the tail - in the real world he appears and disappears rabidly, slicing at the creature as a distraction, trying to draw its attention from the handful of soldiers locked in combat with it.

But even with his focus on the massive threat in front of him, he catches a shift in the air that is wholly unnatural, and for a split second he feels even the grain of the Gray Space seem to react from within as something on the outside hurtles above him, a distorted shape of bright hot white against the misty gray shadows around him. He mistakes it for a third enemy at first, until he sets his feet on true soil again and sees between the massive wings the shape of a spear-wielding man fighting with the second chimera.

Wholly in awe he has to shake himself back to reality, dodging a claw strike clumsily and cutting himself on a sharpened edge of the Gray Space. ]

I can keep it distracted.

[ Maybe the beast might die of a thousand cuts, and it's giving the soldiers a moment to retreat - but too many are willing to stay and fight. Kahlil would have to summon a God's Razor to do further damage - something that would normally take a second ushiri to even attempt. ]

[princeofruin]

[The answer prints itself over the thrashing head of the chimera, but he can read it clear enough. He hears its skull cracking as he twists the head of his lance, laying his weight into it to keep it against the ground. While Kyle moves on, he burns more aether, summoning several balls of pure, blinding light that dive into the creature's body, burning it as they move through it like fired arrows.

The one head dies, but the horned one yet lives, bleating a horrible scream as it attempts to gore him with with jabs of its skull through the air. Propping a boot on the catlike head, he wrenches his lance free, drawing the light magic to the point of the lance -- driven straight into the open, screaming mouth of the goat before the body can get off the ground again.

All of the muscle underneath him goes lax as the creature falls, and several Thorne soldiers dart out of the weight of the massive weight hitting the sand.

One creature taken out, but the Thornean force is too embroiled in their fear to take an exit given to them. Dion steps off the creature, covered in its blood. With the tone of a general expecting his commands to be followed, he begins pushing the ranks towards the portals, wings spread like a living wall, while Kyle occupies the living chimera.]

I am getting the soldiers out. Hold on.

[ushiri]

[ Kahlil doesn't answer this time, nor can he spare more than a half second to look at Dion as he takes charge of the men.

He continues to flit in and out of space, harrying the beast as its remaining two heads as best he can manage. The lion head roars in frustration as another swipe with its claws fails to catch him. From the outside it might appear effortless, the way he vanishes and reappears. In reality, the cost of a large misstep within the Gray Space would be little different than failing to avoid the lion's jaws.

The sound of the Gray Space tearing open over and over is no longer silent, instead there's the distracting sound like mental rending. White flames briefly flare each time he reappears, the beasts double jaws snapping, blood soaking its lion's mane with each cut that lands. The air tastes like copper and burning ozone, a strange chill following in his wake. ]

[princeofruin]

[With the beasts divided, one fallen and one distracted, the Thornean mages have the space they need to concentrate. The portals rip open reality, and the soldiers begin filing forward, following their fellows in the last vestiges of their retreat.

Despite the coup, the man they follow willingly, what he sees here is what he sees on every battlefield: men who are afraid.

Men who will live another day, and they are just now realizing it.

Once the mages are stabilized, Dion flies back towards the chimera, now cut up and bleeding in more places than he can see from Kyle's attack -- one hard enough to follow in the air, where he moves and appears and moves once again, in a pattern that is hardly pattern at all. It leaves him no opening to aid Kyle lest he hit him in between jumps.

So he shall be the distraction in turn.

Dion dives for it's head, wings folded then snapping back out, flying just out of reach of a swiping paw as the lion's head focuses on him. He gathers light in a hand, aether pulled from his body and the air around them, until the ball grows, exploding into multiple streams of light that begin pelting the lion's face, burning and singeing fur and mane. All of the creature's attention turns to him, standing up on its back legs as it attempts to catch him with a man-sized paw and sever one of his wings off -- an attack he rolls through the air to dodge, as he hopes to give Kyle the opening he needs.]

cw: gore

[ushiri]

[ Kahlil keeps an awareness of the soldiers and the mages as best he can as he tries to harry and corral the beast with his attacks. He catches the shadow above him, the divine shadow of wings descending, and he retreats again into the Gray Space for Dion to launch his own attacks. The ball of light distorts the Gray Space, sending out fractals and mirror-like shapes in its path, and he knows without needing to be close that such distortions are lethal.

There's a path though, and an opening, as the beast rears. Kahlil exits and opens another tear the length of grown man, both his arms spread wide, forefingers and thumbs bent back. The sound of it opening is horrific, something between an inhuman screech and rending metal. The chimera sees only Kahlil in front of it when it lunges down again to strike. It does not see the thin, sharpened blade hovering in space as it cleaves both heads from its body.

The chimera drops, its blood and entrails steaming across the baked earth. The lion head doesn't yet know its own death, and makes one last snap of its jaws toward Kahlil. ]

[princeofruin]

[It is enough to keep up on his side of the beast, flicking his wings in an effort to duck away from a swiping paw, the exposed claws. And so he does, keeping himself just a hair's breadth from being slashed, until that noise cuts across the Badlands.

He jerks in his flight, covering his ears against it, feeling it is very much in his interest to maintain distance now. Down on the sands, he can see Kyle appear... then stop.

But something is happening. It must. So Dion trusts him, and waits.

He cannot clearly understand what happens. The beast is alive, mostly whole. Then it is not. Heads severed from the body, and the body beginning to collapse with no mind to control it. Blood splashes onto the sands, staining it as the earth greedily soaks it up.

Dion lands upon its head, balanced upon his lance, pinning the jaws together as the air stinks with its bile. He steps off the creature, pulling his lance from its wretched flesh. It dissipates in his hands, and as he takes several more steps, so too does the aether wrapped around him: the lines of glowing power in his skin disappear, and his eyes cease their glow. Bahamut's wings vanish.

He only just catches himself on his knees as he falls, the sudden sapping of his life leaving Dion momentarily weak. He knows, without looking, that the curse of his arm spreads. Between breaths, he looks to examine his companion.] You are unharmed?

[To say nothing of what power he wields. When Dion is so accustomed to the magicks of Valisthea, elemental and bright, to watch this was... it was something special, to see Kyle in his own element.]

[ushiri]

[ The jaws snap shut before they can reach him, pinned in place by the lance. Kahlil lets out a sharp breath, feeling all at once the exhaustion of his efforts, hyperaware of the sweat sticking his clothes to his body, the sticky splatter of blood across his face - the beast's blood, not his own. His stomach churns for a split second at the smell and the heat combined, but he swallows it back as Dion leaps down.

As his friend nearly falls, Kahlil rushes forward to try to catch him, or steady him at least, dropping down to his own knees, hands on his shoulders to keep Dion upright. ]

I'm fine. [ He's quick to answer. He's paler than usual, sweat sticking his hair to his temples, but he's not been injured in any visible way, and he scans Dion for signs of any harm to him - though that almost seems impossible, given what he just witnessed.

Even so, Kahlil silently taps into the power Claude had instructed him in, turning inward to his bonds to John - to the Singularity, imbued with his faith. A healing spell, it spreads like warmth across Dion, if not curing any wounds then hopefully offering him some energy. His brow furrows with concern: ]

Can you stand?

[princeofruin]

[Dion allows the help, leaning some weight against Kyle as he struggles to rise back to his feet. He does not wish to give any other beast in these wastes opportunity to take advantage. The sapping of his aether leaves him only momentarily weak, but it has been such a long spread of time since he last felt its drinking upon his life.

At any rate, the act was worth it. The Thorne soldiers, fools and traitors they may be, have retreated. Kyle is unharmed.

He -- oh. Dion's brows delicately come together as a familiar warmth beings spreading through his chest. Like that same warmth, that of magick, the same as he felt at the masquerade, when his leg was still healing from his hunt with Geralt. Claude's magic.

With a hand on Kyle's shoulder, he gets to his feet.] Yes. Thank you. [He looks him over. There is blood, but it is a stain, not flowing.] I've felt this healing before. You do not know a man named Claude, do you? From the Free Cities?

[He asks, taking a step back to test himself. Yes, he can walk. They can leave through the portals, before the bloodspill attracts other beasts.]

[ushiri]

[ Kahlil is quick to stand with Dion, and there's a flicker of surprise before he gives a wide grin at mention of Claude. ]

He taught it to me. I've known him nearly as long as I've been here.

[ There's fondness in his voice. Kahlil doesn't often speak so openly about his friendships with those in other territories. Especially Claude, who he has traded in secrets with for almost two years now. Now that tensions are high again, they'll likely soon be having those conversations again.

Claude isn't only a contact, though - he's a close friend, someone Kahlil holds in high regard.

With Dion steady on his feet he nods toward the awaiting portal. They can talk more on the other side, if he likes. ]

[princeofruin]

[It wasn't a reach. Though Dion's healing experiences have been somewhat limited, the way the Thorne healers worked on his leg was not the same as Claude. There had been more warmth to it... a personal touch.

It shouldn't surprise him that others have felt the same touch. Claude does not seem like a man who sits back on his laurels for most things... and he has been here for ages.]

Claude is a good man.

[Dion matches the fondness. He is on a battlefield and does not have time to think of their kiss, but it still worms its way into his thoughts.

Another time. He summons his lance to aid in his walking, unhanding Kyle now he can bear his own weight. The mages hold the portals, allowing the Summoned to return to their kingdom -- before the mages step inside, and the portals close.

On the other side, the soldiers celebrate, as much as they can covered in blood, leaving the dead behind, driven to exhaustion. It is a celebration only of survival, not of victory. Dion watches them for a moment, but it is foreign to him still. These are not his people, and he owes this kingdom nothing.]

We should find a place of respite for now. [He turns to Kyle, giving him a small smile.] You fought well today. It was an honour to witness.

[ushiri]

[ Kahlil stays close to Dion as the cross back into Thorne's territory, the heat of the desert giving way to a clouded sky and gentle breeze. Dion watches the soldiers, and Kahlil watches him. Here, Dion appears too be simply a man. Despite the awe and terror he'd felt to watch him descend from the skies on the battlefield, there are none of the usual tells that come with the divine immortals he's come across - the preternatural stillness, the strain of skin and muscle holding back immense power in every deliberate movement. Dion, now, is simply a man.

A lonely one, he thinks. Recognizes.]

I think the honor was mine. [ he offers him a wry look. Kahlil knows the limits of his own abilities, especially in this world. He is often outclassed by other Summoned. He isn't quite sure what he's seen today, and he wants to ask more - but first things first. ]

We should probably get cleaned up.

[ He picks at his sleeve, covered in monster blood. ]

[princeofruin]

[His snort is soft enough to almost not be heard.] Please. [He has heard for more in the past. Far more pontificating, of near worship. This is... relieving. Kyle does not ask questions, not in the moment and not yet. Perhaps the questions will come, but he feels he may be ready for it now. He has prepared for it.

He holds his arm as he nods and they begin to walk. The curse has spread. He can feel it, his elbow aching terribly. The lance disappears in his grip, and he walks now on his own. Recovered enough from the drain of his aether to be nearly back to normal.]

The baths, then? A private one. [He quickly amends. In his quiet way, it is Dion's invitation to his questions, if he has them. And to be fair, Thorne's baths cannot be beat.]

jumping forward a bit

[ushiri]

[ With a short nod he starts to lead them into the castle, toward the Summoned wing. The halls on the way are quiet, more so than usual, though there's a distinct tension in the air, a harried look from anyone bearing the Crown's crest. He wonders how the new King will take this defeat, compared to his niece.

The baths are empty - there are fewer Summoned than ever in Thorne, and it's an odd time to be bathing besides. Kahlil isn't shy about getting naked in front of another man, even an attractive one. He strips out of his blood-stained clothes, washing some of it off his face and hair before sliding into the water. ]

This is how we first met, isn't it? [ he remembers, a gently teasing lilt to his voice. Kahlil picks up on the way Dion cradles his arm, remembering their time in the Nether's strange pools and how it had been bandaged back then. A permanent wound, Dion had called it, one he had acquired before his Summoning - they had only just met and Dion hadn't seemed keen on speaking about it. Maybe with this invitation, he'll ask again. ]

[princeofruin]

[The hollow halls and sunken eyes of the soldier are both things Dion is eager to put a wall in front of. It reminds him too much of what he saw that night in Twinside, and the less time he spends dwelling on it, the better. He has dwelled on it every night for four seasons. Surely there will be plenty of time tonight.

Dion is less exuberant in his eagerness to undress in front of another, but he has little patience to go elsewhere. He wants the blood and stink of that creature off him as soon as possible, and he does... trust Kyle. He feels it is beyond earned now.

As he unbuttons the fastenings at his breast, he pauses, letting out a laugh of disbelief. He had nearly forgotten. How time has changed so many things, and yet has not.] You are right. The Nether pools. [Ages back. When he had been... unwell. Where every waking moment of his life was a reminder of how little he deserved to live.

He has his moments still. But they are moments, not hours. Not days. And back then, he had no trust for no one, hiding the pieces of himself, the etchings on his body, terrified of turning into a weapon for forces he could not trust.

After his hesitation, he lifts his clothes off, and this time it is not bandaged. His right arm, from his elbow up to his shoulder has turned to stone, as well as along his right hip and ribs, creeping across his lower stomach as if to reach his left side. A permanent wound that now grows larger; as he steps out of his breeches, he examines to see how it has grown after today. Not a horrible amount; it still has yet to directly solidify the joint of his elbow.] I had more secrets then. We have been through so much since our trip there.

[Eight hundred years, and then some. He joins Kyle in the water, and this time he does not attempt to hide his curse, nor his scars. New ones, even: one puckering skin in his right thigh, and now the wounds from the knives he received in his left side and the back of his shoulder. As he thought, with the limited healing he got that night the knives he took with Ramuh in Nocwich have left their mark.] I hope it does not... disturb you. I have been like this for some time.

[He means the stone. The healers were certainly put off by it, and he just as wary of their magics in return.]

[ushiri]

[ He nods, his expression softening by a degree when Dion mentions his secrets. Kahlil has so many of his own, it's usually difficult for him to judge someone else for their own - so long as that secret won't be the cause of harm to others. He is trying these days to not have regrets about questions unanswered or unasked.

Kahlil isn't sure what to expect when Dion reveals his 'wounds'. At first his brow pinches, gaze openly trailing his left arm to his stomach. His first thought is to Viktor, the spread of organic metal across his right arm. This appears more like stone, and as Dion's said - he had it before he arrived. But where Viktor's changes might strengthen his body, Dion's appear to be causing stiffness and discomfort that doesn't seem related to the appearance alone. After a few seconds he shakes his head: ]

No. [ It doesn't disturb him, except for whatever pain it might be causing him. The other scars don't exactly faze him either, his own body is a map of them as well. He meets Dion's gaze again, still frowning. ]

What caused it?

[princeofruin]

[He suspected as such. It is not only himself who has been through far too much. It feels as if most Summoned are the same, as if that may be the single quality that unites them.

He sighs as he lowers his arm into the water. The places where it is stone do not have any feeling, but the skin around it is particularly sensitive, and the hot water soothes the ache that is nearly always there. He reaches for one of the scraps of cloth provided to start scrubbing the blood from his skin.]

A curse. [It is the easiest way to explain it, to leave it at that. He does keep his secrets still, but this one... it hardly matters, does it? Eventually it will swallow him, whether on this world or another.] One all bearers of magic from my world share. Every use of my magic spreads it further, and in time it will eventually consume me. Such is our fate. [The last comes with a tone that implies his acceptance of it was many years ago. He always intended it to, knew it would with how the Empire used Bahamut. That was the end all Dominants rushed to, before they had learned of Ultima's intended use of their existence.] It is why when I arrived in Thorne, the way they regard magic was so overwhelming. The people here, they can use it as freely as they wish. I had never considered what I knew to be true would not also be true elsewhere.

[ushiri]

[ Kahlil knows of curses. He's killed as many men with his black knives as he has done the same with a bullet. He's felt the bite of a witch-demon, her teeth sinking into his shoulder as she tried to get her own curse to take hold upon his flesh and spirit.

The curse Dion speaks of is something else. Of course his reluctance to use their gifts of magic from the Singularity makes sense as he explains it. In Basawar, there is a price to magic too. Kahlil had been taught that all his life, and coming here was an adjustment as well. But - this isn't only a cost, Dion calls it fate. He speaks with an acceptance Kahlil is familiar with, it makes his chest ache for the man.

His gaze slips to Dion's arm again, then back to his face as realization sets in. Kahlil's eyes narrow slightly, though there's a softness to his voice: ]

Out on the battlefield - you shouldn't have taken that risk.

[ Using his power in such a way. Bearing more of the cost. ]

[princeofruin]

[The acceptance has rooted deep, intertwined with the equally deep roots of his guilt. It has never been a question that he would die, and he would die quite young. It is simply what was expected of him; as long as it was what the Empire needed, and it was in his power to give, he would give them everything. Including his life.]

And there are men who may be dead if I had not. It is a fair trade.

[They may not be his people, but they are still only people. The closer those monsters got to the portals, to Thorne, the more people would die.]

After all, we all take risks being on the battlefield in the first place.

[ushiri]

[ One man's life to save the many. He can't fight that rationale too hard, not without being a hypocrite. If their positions had been reversed, Kahlil would put his own life on the line. Even so - there's a long pause, his expression tense. ]

It's not the same, [ he gaze flicks to where Dion's arm has sunk beneath the water, Kahlil is not cursed in this way, he cannot fully understand the weight of the choices Dion's had to make ] but - I know that one day, my duty may bring my death. And though I don't want to die, I've struggled... to find meaning in my life, beyond that duty. It's an honorable one, to have the power to protect people - whether it is strangers, or those you hold close. But - I know that it should not be everything.

[ Even when it feels like it is. Their lives on their own, they have value as well.

He looks at Dion, uncertain, wondering if perhaps he's assumed too much, or if his words will be shrugged off. ]

[princeofruin]

[Dion is quiet while he listens, thinking, with some detached humour, that he may have never heard Kyle speak of himself so openly before. Whatever he saw in Bahamut must be something that resonates with his own experiences. To be sure, it is an outcome he was not expecting. He only did what was most efficient.

The breath Dion releases feels as tight as the feeling in his chest. Kyle's words strike deep, deep to a truth he has lived with for a very long time, and not given the attention it deserved.

He does not wish to die, either. And now so well does he know the difference of thinking there was nothing for him beyond death, and to actually die. He believed in second chances, but never for himself. Not after what he has done.]

No. [His response is soft, a breath.] It should not be everything. [He cannot bear anymore to think that men like them do not deserve more. They do. They can, if they earn it.

He has not earned it yet. And further...] Forsooth, my friend, I am the same. I do not know anything beyond duty. I do not know what to make of a life where it is not everything I am.

[He may have been here for season upon season upon season, but Dion has yet to determine what he is meant to do, now that he is expected to be more than Bahamut.]

[ushiri]

[ Kahlil nods again, although this time he offers no words. He has no answer for Dion, having not quite fully grasped the answer for himself. Maybe it's enough for now, to have this understanding between them - it should not be everything. It doesn't have to be, in this world, where it seems they are offered other choices.

After a moment he closes his eyes, letting himself sink into the warm water of the bath. ]