Battle of the Obelisk
[15:59] "I can explain- I was a spy the entire time, I'm not sure why I was never caught."
His only objective was to examine the combatants of Aphros, and figure out any possible weaknesses during his stay in the city.
Enough time had passed for him to prepare himself to take on the people of Aphros after waiting for the others to strike. He had assumed this day would come later but things were starting to speed up too quickly.
Storm clouds had been summoned from above to conceal any bright light from the Holy Magi, and prevent her from coming on top in their battle. "Guess this will decide which one of us is the stronger fighter since it hasn't been decided yet."
(Jack J.)
[16:01] The kitsune breaking from the small pack of demons that were to meet the tip of her blade rushed forth. Breaking through the lines of tree's that would block the path between the two.
"You are a disgrace, to think I considered you an ally."
The kitsune holding her blade in her left hand as she would begin manifest ice about her. Small blades forming around her person.
"You will pay for your treachery on this day, to the people of Aphros. Under the watchful gaze of Athelios you will be judged."
Wisps of golden energy erecting from her form ready to hone in on the small fae and try and force it into submission.
(Phoenix Altan)
[16:07] {Won Dangerous RPB against Jack J.}
[16:07] Phoenix Altan has inflicted an injury upon Jack J.. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (2 days)")
[16:20] The battle was hard fought, the storm's torrent pushing back the kitsune's blasts of holy magic and hail of ice. Her sword play and quick reflex's saving her time and time again as she would be able to close the gap between the two long enough to deliver a flurry of quick slash's from the blade held in her left hand. A fox moving across the field of battle, her white mane standing out in the greenery of the forest as she moved from tree to tree, rock to rock, and any suitable foothold she could make use of to her advantage.
Slipping into the shadow Jack tried to get the drop on Phoenix, a small grin coming from the kitsune as she channeled her ether to her blade. Striking it down onto the ground and erecting a flash of holy light. What lay in store next for the fae would be pain for them and mild pleasure for the Inquisidore.
A concentrated blast of holy energy, released at point blank range leaving Jack on the verge of conciseness from what she could tell. Her blade finding it's place in it's sheath that rested onto her back with a metallic hiss. A small snap of her finger's generating a gentle snow fall. The fae left on the ground where they lay.
"On this day let it be known that though has been spared, but know this. From this day forth you will hunted down by my inquisition. Day and knight my soldiers and horde of faceless will hunt for you. You will fall by their blades and holy might you pathetic excuse for a fae. You are a mockery of the energy that you consist of from the life stream."
An icy glare given before she slowly lifted up into the air and turned to float off to go check on the outcome of the battle having moved some distance from the front line in her fight.
(Phoenix Altan)
[16:30] Lightning roared from the clouds, almost as if he had a lion hiding up there in it's den. Bolts were sent crashing down to destroy the icy parts of the battlefield during his fight with Phoenix.
If he had more time, perhaps he could've expanded the dark clouds of his Storm magic.
Not even a Fairy had resistance against Holy magic, taking on the full damage of the Holy canon that broke through the multiple wind barriers shielding him from damage.
Jack had been left in the snow, wounded from the Holy canon. If it weren't for his size then his escape would've been noticeable by Phoenix, slowly crawling through the snow to safety.
(Jack J.)
[18:57] The blade of Gallade is not one to underestimate. There is a reason he could dare to approach the likes of Lyseroth.
Their blades clash. Gallade responds effectively, with the grinding steel of his rather devious mechanical armament. Despite the intense cutting motions of such an armament, it could not damage Cheshire. Forged of some of Meranthe's hardest metals, clad in the crimson aether of Mortyl, the blade was effectively an invincible construct in the hands of Ustrea.
In several bouts, Ustrea finds herself repelled, bleeding from a scattering of small wounds.
"You are trouble."
"But you will not fall to this prey, will you Ustrea?"
I could . . .
Tis a simple truth. I have bled countless times.
But here, I will not.
"Cheshire. Let us spill his blood freely now."
Cat Walks the Void
Graced with calmness, Ustrea weaves spatial mana through the air about her. The atmosphere gaps, cracks ripping across the lifestream to the destructive whims or her blade. She steps through one, strikes, another, evades, strikes.
Their confrontation becomes bloody. Yet wounds to Ustrea become scared, and wounds to Gallade accumulate as many.
It may have been foolish to have stepped up to Ustrea, after being direly wounded by Lyseroth, but a simple truth must be conveyed to Gallade now.
How could you scale the mountain, to face Lyseroth.
When you cannot climb even the cliffs that his Champion must represent.
When worn down amidst their clashes, Ustrea finds the final, conclusive line. Cheshire is pierced through the veil, the coloration of life draining from the surroudings. Despite being so distant, the blade pierces into Gallade's gut, the tip of Cheshire exiting through a rift.
From it, Ustrea steps, casting the swordsman away with the strike of her sandal against his torso.
"Magnificent!"
The sing-song voice of Cheshire laughs. Amidst that stroke, its claws of aether manifested, robbing Gallade of something precious.
The essence of his dreams; small spheres colored to his nature. The living blade, Cheshire, immediately begins munching on them like tasty sweet cakes.
"Indeed, it was wonderful, Cheshire.
I hope that you embrace dearest Lyseroth's lessons to you well."
Ustrea's snickering revels in the feeling of victory.
"It seems that things here are drawing to a close. Let us begone."
A look passes Phoenix, gracing him with her smile.
"And you- you are utterly mistaken." answered to with simple words, Ustrea promptly departs through a rift formed off the edge of Cheshire. The events of the day, after-all, are drawing to a conclusion.
(Ustrea)
[18:57] Standing upon the summit along with HIM, now revealed as Logan Ackers, Daralis continued with sanctifying the grounds and fighting away the Fel forces that were born in the wake of this demonic presence.
It was all she had to do. All that needed to be completed while her faith was left in the hands of just one.
All of the Pantheon's might that she found it in both herself and the Ackers to invoke, it was given to the Folhammar. To the true Emperor. The man carving his way, seemingly unstoppable against the ranks of Hel or 'evil', any that wished to fight him having been bested and the others not finding it within themselves to step in his path.
Daralis' smile continued to widen. While there were losses, this was the most beneficial outcome they'd seen in nearly a decade. It was coming. The time for Man to smile upon their success.
Sacrifice was offered, some fell, some unable to be helped from the blunder even. But, the Folhammar marched on. A Phoenix reborn in the mana of Amier. The hope of Man. His presence at this point a symbol for their victory.
As he neared and his steps thundered, shook the very ground she stepped on, the priestess made giantess turned towards the pillar and her silvered eyes came to close.
"Children of Amier. You've heard me well. Enarr, you have guided your flock. Now, allow what remains of your great-father upon Meranthe its time to reap.
The very man to do away with this evil, lend your power once more to him and ensure it is to never return.
Helheim's Challenge was bested, may it never be attempted again."
Daralis' eyes opened as she stepped before the pillar with arms outstretched. Astral mana building and reaching out to press upon occultic, fel barrier the pillar had formed provided just what it represented.
"May we cast it away, to return to Hel for eternity.
No longer a threat upon our realm. Forever locked away, behind silvery veil."
All of the collected faith, the hope and pride of the soldiers that fought in this long night. It was collected by Daralis, transferred over towards the True Giant.
She had weakened the soil, sanctified the land. It was all left to Jokul to finish this grand work.
"Rise, Phoenix. In your rebirth, may your divine flame smite down evil."
(Daralis)
[19:19] Not once during the affair had the Giant spoken. It was if they were a vessel of those nearby. A moving force. Manifestation of Faith. Though in truth they had done little themselves. Through a combination of luck, skill and perseverance had those around etched out their own victories. Saving their own, escaping the clutches of those they opposed. This battlefield was no representation of a true fight but it acted as a starting step. A way for those to gain confidence, to force back those they opposed.
The deathly mana continues to ruminate, harming senses and acting as a foul stench to those nearby. Nobody else opposes and the hand of the Amier Nephilim grasps the Obelisk. The gathered faith swirling within hand, now focused in on the great emanating death. Roaring heat fades, replaced by this sickening crunch as pinnacle of Obelisk cracks, then shatters. The manifest death shoots up into the sky as this great wisp of darkness. It snakes its way into the sky above, gradually fading out of sight and out of mind.
It is only now that the Giant speaks.
"The veil weakens with every day chaos let roam free.
When the veil breaks, a long night will cast itself over the lands and Chaos unleashed. It cannot happen.
Varrach will return, he has been awakened. Continue fighting.
And this, this returns to the Pantheon," the fallen, drained remnants of the Tears of Aegis clutched within the gigantic grasp of man. It had used up its foul energies in the initial ritual by Mariona but now would not be let remain.
Turning, the apparent past Emperor of Meranthe moves over towards Logan and...
Though, there was still time for questions, closing remarks.
(Jokul)
[19:21] Phoenix Altan whispers to Gallade Silvanas: Y-Your gonna be alright Gallade...
[19:22] The obelisk crumbled within Jokul's grasp, scattering the pylon that brought forth much death and decay within the volcanic ruins of Vdalion. With it faded gradually the vile clutches of hollow voices and echoes of the memento mori, no doubt making it clear that they've succeeded in what they had set out to do.
With naught else to watch, and having scored a few injuries of his own from bold warriors stepping forward, Lyseroth turned around and gestured towards his followers wordlessly. Spatial aether ebbed in front of his body, crafting a portal for him to slip through -- bringing with him a captive, and the retinue of the Gluttony's Maw.
Though a final whisper had slid past from his lips,
Telepathic messages directed to certain individuals.
(Lyseroth)