Mortal Intervention

[Rayse Valentino]

Semi-closed to Bloodrose and Caden Law. All bunnying approved and all that stuff.

Two weeks ago...

"Damn it!" cursed a bruised Rayse, his hands clenching the dirt below him as sweat poured down his face.

"I haven't been waiting around for thousands of years just to crush an insect like you," said a casual voice.

Hovering in the air above rayse, a man named Stefan Tyray crossed his arms in disgust. With long, curled hair that reached down to his hips, a pair of sunglasses and a mean-looking stubble, this man was one of Rayse's targets in his last job at Salvar. Floating away, his long brown coat swaying in the breeze and his shiny oxford shoes landing on the ground in front of Rayse, he lamented not having an adequate challenge.

"You know, I was the one who gave that laundry list to Fatman. He knew what I'd do to him if he ever told anyone. Funny, he feared death from me a lot more you."

Rayse pulled himself up, clutching his side and grinning, "What's funnier is I don't give a damn."

Suddenly, he felt the air in his body violently escaping through his wounds and doubled over in pain.

"Hmph," sneered Stefan. "You got one more chance, weakling. I'll be waiting."

* * * * * * *

The present...

In the darkness of night, only one man could be seen on the cracked streets of Knife's Edge. With its former inhabitants long gone, the city seemed like a ghost town outside from the religious and military presence in the more prominent parts. With a cigarette in his mouth, Rayse kicked some rubble around to try to see if his place was intact. This entire residential district was totaled, so what used to be a line of small apartment buildings was now a bunch of rocks. Still, Rayse's apartment was downstairs, and Neil was a great landlord who kept good care of the place, so maybe...

He felt something sneak up on him and turned around quickly to see Teric Bloodrose approaching.

Shrugging, he turned back around and faced the Cathedral, "You don't have to sneak around, you know. Even the rats wouldn't be caught dead in this part of town anymore. Man, they really did a number on this place."

Knowing Dan and Neil, his former business associates, they likely fled to the countryside and would definitely come back to the city once all this nonsense is over with. Still, to think that all trade was virtually dead in this city was hard to fathom. It was chilly in Knife's Edge. Rayse couldn't feel the cold, but everything around him did. The long winter had taken its toll on the city's streets and structures, and the constant icy wind prevented any new life from flourishing. The city was known for its harsh winters, but this one seemed never-ending. It was only recently that Rayse learned the cause:

Denebriel. Not only responsible for the cold, but the entire war as well. She destroyed Rayse's business, his contacts, his damn house, everything. It was about time to get some good old-fashioned revenge. However, his plans didn't end there. The city was still his home, and after this war ends, he was gonna live here again. Rebuild his business, and base The Company out of these streets. Before he knew it, Caden Law had arrived.

"Great, the gang's all here. Let's get this party started, shall we?"

Caden tossed him a strange-looking compass that resembled a stopwatch. It was made out of glass with gunmetal black markers for direction, a candle glow indicating the holder's desired destiny. The idea of a 'desired destiny' was odd to him, but he didn't question the nature of magical devices. He faced a massive structure in the distance. Only its shadow could be made out of the darkness, but it was the Cathedral. Rayse had been there once before when he was captured during his last job here, but now he was going in willingly. The golden needle was pointing in the same direction he was facing, and it gave off a strange aura as he held it. Last time he tried using this, he transported himself and a chunk of forest half a mile forward in an instant. However, if he concentrated, he could determine exactly where to go. He felt that the compass could detect the presence of his enemies, and once he locked on, he let his fiery abilities take care of the rest. He took the cigarette out of his mouth with his free hand, blowing out a plume smoke and flicking it into the remains of his home.

Engulfing the trio in a massive orb of fire that wrapped around them in a circular area, they all disappeared in a flash. The next thing he knew, Rayse had exited the orb in a momentous fashion and landed on something soft. The fires disappeared, and The Contractor found himself on a bed. It seems he was in Denebriel's grand bedchambers, but there was no god in sight. Getting off the bed, he looked around the fancy room- adorned with a big chandelier, a large personal bathroom, and various rich tapestries all over the floor and walls. Rayse sincerely hoped that his desired destiny didn't involve Denebriel's bed. He checked his belongings, and it looked like the Damascus longsword strapped to his back was still there, as well as the pouches attached to his sides that contained Damascus throwing knives and mini-molotovs.

"See!" Rayse proclaimed proudly. "I told you guys that I wouldn't cause any injuries this time!"

[Bloodrose]

I hate magic!

Teric opened his eyes underwater, his whole body jerking reactively as the supply of readily available oxygen around him was replaced with cold water. The liquid got in his nose, was sucked down his throat as he inhaled, and soaked his clothing in an instant as the mercenary kicked and grabbed wildly. The veteran's fingers closed on the first solid object they came in contact with, and Teric pulled himself up instinctively.

Spitting and coughing water, the grizzled old warrior quickly identified the watery trap he'd found himself in: a bathtub.

"Shit."

What seemed like just seconds ago, Teric had been standing in a cold, empty street in a ruined area of Knife's Edge. Then, in the blink of an eye, Rayse and one of his new acquaintances had collaborated to engulf them in flame and deposit them...here.

Wherever here was.

"I swear, if he wasn't blood..." Teric grumbled about Rayse under his breath, stepping out of the tub and taking stock of his situation. Water ran off his clothing in a deluge, and the warrior paused in the middle of the room - bathwater pooling at his feet - to wring out his shirt with both hands. The floor under that growing puddle was finely cut white marble running into matching walls of the same material. The ceiling was plated in gold, and the entire room was equally appointed with beautiful trim and trappings. I think we must've ended up in the right place - this is certainly a bathroom fit for a God. The mercenary thought as he finished his sentence, "...I'd kill him."

When Rayse had told him that he had a plan to get inside St. Denebriel's Cathedral and bring the winter's-long siege of Knife's Edge - and this damned civil war - to a close, Teric had scoffed in disbelief. Always one to talk a bigger game than he played (or so Teric had felt when he'd first met the younger man), the mercenary had originally dismissed the notion as folly.

"Can't be done, I said." Teric mocked his own words as he fetched his sword out of the wash closet sink and his satchel bag from beside the toilet. "The Cathedral is protected by magic, I told him." Yet, unsurprisingly, Teric found that he had a lot to learn about magic. Whoever this third cohort Rayse had brought into their typical arrangement was, he seemed to know his way around the arcane.

"Injured, no." Teric retorted coolly as he stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, his sword half drawn in case of trouble. Rayse was standing on the bed with a grin plastered on his face. It was obvious that the younger man was quite proud of his accomplishment. "Uncomfortable, yes."

They would have to move fast and careful now that they were actually inside the lion's den.

"Where's your friend?"

[Caden Law]

Jingle, jingle, was the sound above the bedroom, accompanied by the clink, clink of chains being jostled about. A few muttered obscenities and then this lovely bit: "Shit!"

The chandelier dropped dead center in the bedroom floor. About three hundred tiny crystals, each one containing permanent wisps of light rather than mere candle flames, shattered. It was spectacular, slightly disorienting, and above all else: Loud. At the heart of the warped metal frame at the center was one busted looking Wizard, his glasses hanging lopsided, his Hat tilted and slightly sagging, his limbs spread out all over the place. The man looked rather uncomfortable.

"Could've been worse," he said to himself, pushing his glasses up into place. "Either of you ever heard of 'splinching,' by any chance?" Baffled looks. "Well, see, it's this thing where your skin ends up one place and your organs end up another and your skeleton appears about half-way between the two and your bodily fluids-"

"Enough," either or both of them said. Didn't really matter which. Caden shrugged, adjusted his gear and stood up, then adjusted it again for redundancy's sake.

"Are we in?" he asked, having never actually set foot inside the city of Knife's Edge before today -- nevermind getting into one of the most heavily protected rooms in one of the most ridiculously overprotected buildings within the city's borders. He took a deep breath, scanning the area with a Wizard's senses...and almost threw up from the amount of background magic radiating through the building. It took Caden a few seconds to catch his breath and fight the urge down. He hadn't experienced such a harsh, magic-saturated environment since the battlefields of Raiaera; even Icehenge's power was at least natural, easy to take in and digest. This was just overkill.

He drew out his wand with one hand and his bowie knife with the other, leaving sword sheathed and rod holstered for now. Caden wasn't expecting a whole lot of room to maneuver, even if this particular chamber was so big you could cram one of his hometown churches in and have room left over.

"Yes. We're in. Fantastic work, Mr. Valentino. Now let's go kill a Saint," he said, gesturing to the door and taking point behind Teric and Rayse. Somebody had to bring up the rear and he could at least throw spells around the other two if need-be.

[Rayse Valentino]

Rayse sighed as a downright soggy Teric exited the bathroom, "This is no time to be taking a bath, old man. And I'll be damned if I knew where--"

CRASH! The chandelier came down, sending bits and pieces of crystals everywhere. Sticking themselves in the richly-adorned walls, the room lost a little of its royal glow. They passed through Rayse harmlessly, leaving small trails of flame as they exited his body. The only reason he thought this entire operation was possible was due to his exorbitant amount of power. He didn't quite understand where it all came from, but it seemed to be some sort of side-product from the medication he was taking the past few months. Building up day by day, he now the potential to be ten, maybe even twenty times as strong as he normally was. However, he found that this power was limited. Once he used it all up, it would be gone forever. He would be back to normal. He didn't let on to the other two about this, as the idea of Teric thinking his nephew was stronger than him might make him challenge Rayse. He knew the old mercenary well now.

Teric wanted- no, needed a challenge. A normal mercenary would be long-retired, but he persisted in an almost ritualistic manner to improve himself. Rayse had no interest in pointless tests of power, so it would be better for both of them if he kept the temporary surge of fiery goodness to himself.

Rayse looked at the door, wondering why nobody had come to inspect the loud crash. More to the point, where was the target? He looked at the compass, and it was pointing forward. Turning it on its side, he found it was pointing downward. So, either this thing was busted, or she was below them. Luckily, he and Teric had visited this fine establishment before, so they knew how to get downstairs. Opening the door, The Contractor looked around the grand hallway and determined that there was nobody there.

"Well, I guess it makes sense that someone like her wouldn't want any humans anywhere near her room. Let's go find where else she doesn't want us to be, shall we?"

Stepping outside, Rayse calmly walked around, staring at the marble walls and thick doors. It was probably too late to go back, but he couldn't help feeling apprehensive about this whole thing. Unlike the other two, he got his ass kicked by one of her lieutenants, so he knew what they were dealing with. However, the thought of worry passed quickly as he spotted a wandering guard and slammed his right fist into his left palm in front of him.

"Outta my way, I got a god to kill!" he yelled, charging at the man and planting him into the wall through his torso with just his right fist.

With the others behind him, he tried to find his way throughout this place. While the front was a lot like a cathedral, this entire structure was more like an enormous base. No other place aside from the king's palace could boast as many rooms. However, Rayse decided not to squander this opportunity. If he saw anything of note along the way, he wouldn't hesitate to take it. Running down another hallway, he turned a corner and slowed down when he noticed a large group of people talking amongst themselves. There were various people in military uniform and some clergy walking around. Maybe they knew where Denebriel was. He signaled for the others to stay put for a moment and took out a cigarette, lighting it by snapping his fingers near it to produce a small flame. After taking a drag, he exhaled upwards, and the thin, wispy smoke traveled across the ceiling and into the closed meeting room. Inside, many man were arranged around a round table.

One of men in military uniform spoke up, "We can not wait forever for Saint Denebriel! We must act before The League recovers from this winter. I propose that we devise stratagem in case The Lady does not come through for us."

"Blasphemy!" a clergy man stood up. "Our progress so far has been entirely due to the blessed return of Her Holiness! To forsake her now would make our efforts meaningless! We must await the completion of her grand spell. She will surely strike down the infidels for defying her."

The military man retorted, "That may be, but how much longer must we wait? Why is it that we must do so little? Even now we are losing ground. Our clear advantage has now become a standstill. Say what you will, but I think doing something is better than doing nothing. Would you fault us for action in the name of The Lady?"

The priest sat down, contemplating the response. There was certainly no harm in military operation, even though he felt it was ultimately fruitless.

Nodding his head, he reluctantly agreed, "They are your armies, General. I have no objection against striking fear into the hearts of our enemies. Form your contingency plan if you must, but know that you may gain the ire of Her Holiness."

Rayse had heard enough. After all, he could hear anything in the vicinity of his smoke, allowing him various eavesdropping opportunities. Stamping out the cigarette after dropping it on the floor, Rayse almost turned around to find some other path but he heard something else.

"Where is Her Holiness, anyway?" someone whispered.

"Shh!!" another whispered in reply. "The Lady is in the lower structures, and we are expressly forbidden from even going near it!"

Lower structures, eh? He remembered something like that when he was last here. Could it be the same place? Calling them The Catacombs, they seemed to be a series of maze-like hallways under the sewers that looked brand new despite how apparently old they were. After informing the others of what he heard, they set off towards the entrance to The Catacombs. Although it didn't look like they were getting there for free, as along the way a man seemed to form out of the stone walls themselves and step out into the hallway in front of Rayse and the others.

"Yo," he waved, his purple mohawk an unusual sight in this place. Wearing nothing but black vinyl pants and a green vest, he definitely looked out of place. "Some noise you made back there. I take it you're the intruders I was told about, huh? Well, if you don't mind I'd like you to die real quick-like so I can get back to my nap."

Rayse felt it. This man was one of Denebriel's lieutenants. He didn't know much about them aside from Stefan Tyray, but they orchestrated several important operations under her orders. There was always the chance that he was as strong as Tyray, so The Contractor was alert. However, he didn't want to reveal his abilities in front of the others.

"Looks like we got one of Denebriel's personal lackeys to deal with," Rayse told Teric and Caden. "They're no joke, so be ready. More might be coming, so I'll go on ahead and find the entrance to the underground. Cover my back, won'tcha?"

Disappearing into streams of fire, Rayse passed through the lieutenant and appeared on the other side, breaking into a sprint and turning the corner. He didn't let it bother him, but if it what he was saying was true, then someone told him about the mission. But who? None of the humans seemed to notice them. It was possible that the rumors were true. Could Denebriel see into the future?

Denebriel's servant didn't seem phased, "No worries, no worries. I'll get him later. I don't like chasing people around anyway. Not without a good warm-up, at least. Don't you agree?" Putting his hand to the wall, several stone cubes came jutting out of the walls and floated in the air. With a wave, he sent them flying at Bloodrose and Blueraven.

[Caden Law]

Teric was the senior swordsman, but Caden had done the magi war-dance often and hard enough that his reactions were, in this case, just that little bit quicker. Rayse left them, the lieutenant remained, Teric made ready to attack and Caden was already bullrushing around him wand-first. The air warped in front of the pair and the lieutenant's opening salvo of stone cubes slammed into a spherical blender; gravity and anti-gravity colliding with one another.

What came out the other side -- what came out every side -- was a spray of pebbles and dust. The Wizard dropped his attack just as quickly and Yelled, "Hit him!" His Voice actually had enough force to clear some of the dust from Teric's path. To his credit as a warrior, soldier, and all around grizzled veteran, the old man was already surging forward of his own accord. He moved faster in a few measured strides than Caden had ever run in his life. His swordsmanship was like watching a silver symphony flickering through the Catacomb torchlight.

To his credit, Denebriel's lieutenant managed to keep composure well enough to draw out more stone blocks, even though Teric buzzsawed right through them in seconds at a time. By the third or fourth block, the old mercenary had finally lost enough steam to shout, "Little help here, pencilneck!"

"Ah, right. Right." Caden gulped. And then he reached out with his finely trained sense of geomancy, and basically shut the other mage's cube-a-pult routine down by forcing the blocks out of Teric's way or shoving them right back into place as soon as they'd been drawn out. For all the lieutenant's effort, he was only able to get out one more stone block before Teric was point blank.

"Bloody shit, you crazy geezer!" the lieutenant screamed.

And then Teric slit his throat, stabbed through his heart and both lungs, bisected his torso straight to the spine and spiral cut one of his legs straight to the bone. He finished it all with an inelegant backhanded buckler bash across the back of the mohawked mage's head, toppling him in a gory, horrifying mess that almost made Caden vomit at the sight of it.

"Was that really necessary?" the Wizard asked.

Teric flicked blood from his saber, gave a roguish grin that spoke of far too many battlefields for Blueraven's liking, and was probably about to give an amusing anecdote about how weavers of the dark arts are difficult to put down and keep down. In all likelihood, it would've implied something to the effect of, So I wonder how much effort it'd take to kill you, eh? which would've been followed by a properly roguish laugh and Caden becoming even paler than the pasty skintone he already suffered from.

Except for the part where Teric's hunch was proven correct and the mage got right back up, laughing like a maniac as his wounds knitted themselves shut.

To which even Teric replied, "Eugh."

"Denebriel must give her Death Lords a better healthcare package," Caden noted.

"Somethin' like that," said the lieutenant, who finally got around to introducing himself as a matter of course. "Name's Daedalus Arkham. Pleasure to meet you, now I'll defeat you," and just like that he was conjuring an arming sword from nowhere.

And then he stopped with the tip of Teric's saber sticking out from between his eyes.

"No, no you won't," said the mercenary.

Daedalus made some argh, uck, uck noises and dropped his sword. How he remained standing was anybody's guess.

"Hate magic," Teric muttered. "Well? Do your thing, Wizard."

"Do what?"

"How the hell should I know? You're magic, he's magic, you kill him, we go catch up with Rayse," Teric answered with a shrug.

Caden thought about it. Thought about every way he knew to kill someone, how to reanimate them, how to keep them from getting up again, and he knew what he would have to do. The Wizard grimaced and said, "You don't tell anyone what I'm about to do."

"I don't even know what you're about to do. What would I tell them?"

Caden stalked forward, put his wand back in its place on his belt, replaced his knife and picked up the arming sword. It was plain steel. Nothing to write home about. Probably alchemist's work, transported from one of the armories littering the city. He'd have to burn it later.

"Daedalus Arkham. I'm sorry."

And just like that, the Wizard stabbed the sword straight down through Daedalus' neck and shoulder, into his chest, stomach and maybe as far as his pelvic bones. Then he pointed to the ceiling and geomanced a few runes into the stonework.

Then the Wizard performed Necromancy. He drained the life right out of the lieutenant's body, channeling it up into the rune on the ceiling and allowing the Church above to act as a grounding anchor for the discharged energies that were allowing Daedalus to regenerate. It was all fairly simple work. Close enough to Thermal magic in principle that Caden could lie to himself to justify it.

The process of murdering the lieutenant down to his soul took a few minutes. It ranked up there as one of the more disturbing things Teric had experienced in the past few years, if only because the metals in his own blade were like a lightning rod, absorbing just enough of the necromantic discharge that he could feel a chill to the bones of his hand. When it was all over, the mohawked mage simply collapsed into a pile of leathery skin and bones wearing strangely pristine clothing -- if you could get past the bloodstains.

Caden held the sword for a few seconds longer.

Then he very calmly, very deliberately set it against a wall and used some well applied geomancy to snap it into tiny pieces, throwing the broken hilt into a nearby torch.

"...think we'll have to do that to Denebriel?" Teric asked, sooner or later.

"No. Probably worse," Caden answered, sneering a little when he said it. "Let's go. Rayse probably needs us. And I'm sure there are more of her lieutenants idling around here needing a good killing."

[Rayse Valentino]

While Teric and Caden were dealing with one problem, Rayse had found a few problems of his own.

To be specific, three of them.

Standing in front of a closed golden doorway that resembled an arch were a trio of lieutenants. Rayse was visibly annoyed. The hallway he had followed had lead to a grand room with a spherical ceiling with three more oddly-dressed foes.

Wearing a tan-colored full suit of armor with thin purple seams around the joints and a sentinel helmet to obscure his head, a seven foot tall knight-like lieutenant laughed at Rayse's misfortune, "Baw haw haw! Looks like Daedalus let one get by! How shameful for a servant of Her Greatness! Baw haw haw!" His voice, deep and full of echo since it came from inside the helmet, had made his words loud and obnoxious. His name was Ezekiel.

Another one shook his head in disgust and replied, "You fool! Don't you see? He let this one get by so he could have the other two all to himself." Pushing aside his long dark hair that was obscuring half his face, but ultimately fell back to the same position, he continued. "Let's finish him off quick then get to the other two." He was wearing a chainmail vest with leather pants and black boots that went up to his shins. His eyes were pure black. He was called Relent.

Rounding out the group was the last one, who was very quiet while staring down Rayse. He was wearing silver half-plate armor with no helmet, and a red knight's tunic that stretched down to his shins. His white hair was in a ponytail, and his eyes were a light shade of scarlet. He was known as Arbetus.

"Look," Rayse started, his palm firmly pressed against his head. "I don't have time to deal with you clowns. If you could calmly get out of the way..."

Ezekiel burst out into a fresh laugh, "Baw haw haw! Vermin sure are confident these days, aren't they? We would've never had such a display back in our day! I'll deal with this one myself!"

Reaching into a sheath strapped to his side, he pulled out a golden longsword. Ezekiel enjoyed his appearance. Even though Denebriel commanded her servants to appear and act like Salvic Humans, wearing armor over his demonic form was enough to not only terrify, but make them think he was still human. Rushing at Rayse with his sword held up high in one hand, he struck down and The Contractor deftly dodged to the side, avoiding the blade that plunged into the ground like it was butter. One hit from that would quickly make two Valentinos from one. Quickly making a break for the door, Rayse pulled on the handles, pushed on the handles, and did everything he could to open the door.

Ezekiel pulled his sword out of the ground, "Haw! The door is guarded with a magical seal! You'll never get in! Not even Her Greatness could bust open a door with a seal on it like that!"

"Don't," warned Arbetus. "Don't say another word or I'll kill you myself."

"H-hey!" Ezekiel reeled back, trying to hide his fear for the other lieutenant. "Who cares if we're just gon' kill him anyway? Hmph!"

Rayse started to wonder how these guys could be considered fearful thousands of years ago. As Ezekiel charged at Rayse again, he disappeared into flames and reappeared back in his original position before the first attack.

Ezekiel stomped his plated boot into the ground, "I hate jumpy little gnats like you!"

"I'll take care of this," said Relent, flicking his hair to no avail. He motioned his hands in Rayse's direction and suddenly several knives appeared in the air and flew at him, missing their marks. Rayse dodged them handily, but what came next surprised even him. Relent was above him punching downwards, and as the fist flew past Rayse's head, Relent's body shifted in mid-air and delivered a kick to Rayse's torso, sending him flying into the ground several feet away. Rayse got up quickly, holding his chest. These guys were certainly no joke, but...

"Is the guy I left back there as strong as you?" Rayse asked, feeling around for any broken bones or bruises.

Landing on the floor and taking up a provocative pose with his finger on his mouth, Relent replied, "Our Lady's Children are mostly the same, with some exceptions."

Ezekiel interjected, "That damn Tyray avoided getting sealed up so he never got weakened by the captivity! It always ticks me off!"

"Will you hurry up and kill him already?" an annoyed Arbetus said, shaking his head. "His friends should be arriving soon. If The Lady sent us to deal with this, clearly she thought Daedalus would be defeated. Let's not let them join up."

"Heh," chuckled Rayse. Arbetus was clearly smarter than the other two. Not only was he right, but that confirmed Rayse's suspicions: Tyray was unusually strong for a lieutenant. The Contractor knew his next course of action. "So, how do you open that door?"

"We ain't tellin' a worm like you!" yelled Ezekiel, charging again and taking several swings at Rayse. Normally this would be no problem, but Relent joined in as well, using his superior speed to try to catch his prey. He came in from above but Rayse threw down a lit mini-molotov, the explosion creating a wide field of smoke that covered the entire room. Although, as fast as it was created, it disappeared, with Arbetus taking responsibility with his strange magic. As Rayse kept moving, a knife flew past him and nicked his shoulder, causing a small cut. He couldn't keep this up forever.

Rayse jumped back and said, "What, are you scared of me beating you? Is that why you won't tell me?"

Ezekiel pulled his sword out of the wall and laughed, "Haw! For your information, even if you did know, it wouldn't mean a damn thing!"

Arbetus's eyes widened, "Ezekiel! Don't!"

"It's a seal that's based on gatekeeper's life over there!" he said, pointing his thumb at Arbetus.

Rayse smiled, "Thanks for the info."

For a moment, he concentrated. Dark tattoo lines began appearing on the sides of his arms, his hips, and legs. They moved toward each out and converged at the center, creating an abstract pattern of dark lines all over his body. His body became covered with a thick yellow flame that burned brighter and brighter, turning blue due to the heat.

"I've been saving this for later, but I won't need much to deal with you three."

Ezekiel and Relent were a bit taken back, but ultimately they ignored the warning. Arbetus, however, began preparing a complicated spell. Rayse suddenly disappeared into blue flames, reappearing in front of Ezekiel and grabbing his helmet with his right hand, shoving it back into the wall. With a flash, his hand created a great explosion that incinerated the helmet and everything inside.

Relent's face was covered in genuine shock. Rayse stepped back, allowing the headless armor to fall limply to the ground. However, it didn't last long as the head and helmet appeared to form out of nothing. Ezekiel stood back up, his laugh as strong as ever. Rayse guessed that even for these guys it wouldn't be too hard to survive as long as they did with that kind of insurance. The only way to get rid of them for good was to burn into nothingness. Ezekiel charged again, but this time Rayse did not move. His blade passed through Rayse as if he was ethereal, and The Contractor put his hands on the armored demon's shoulders and poured as much fire as he could into the armor. With a roar, geysers of fire erupted from every joint in the armor. After several seconds, the armor itself began to disintegrate, and soon there was nothing left but a burnt husk of a lieutenant.

Several knives flew at Rayse from Relent's direction, but they also passed right through him. He planted his foot into the ground, creating a growing crack that made its way over to Relent, who saw what was coming. Rayse had obviously put his fire into the ground and was gonna have it erupt under his feet. As the crack reached the long-haired servant, he jumped back only to have Rayse appear further back with a kick to his spine, sending him back back forward into the stream of fire that rose all the way up to the ceiling. The fire was so intense that nothing came out the other side.

As Rayse was about to move for the last one, he suddenly felt everything turn... blue. The eruption of fire seemed to be stuck in mid-air, the flames suspended like in a painting. Not only that, but he couldn't move at all. Try as he might, it was like he had chains all over his body.

Suddenly, he heard a voice in his head, "You shouldn't of given me all that time, trespasser." On the other side of the room stood Arbetus, finally smiling for once. "Thanks for disposing of that trash. Her Greatness forbids us from infighting, so you gave me a good opportunity to cleanse the weaker ranks. I've partitioned off a portion of space, creating this field that exists outside the scope of time. Although I do not have many combat techniques to speak of, I was invited as a lieutenant due to my unique ability. No matter how strong you are, if you can't move you're as good as dead."

Struggled as he might, it looked like Rayse was trapped. It turned out that Arbetus was actually very talkative once he had someone in this blue room of his.

"It's strange. Our Lady predicted all of this, so does that mean she willingly sacrificed her servants? I don't disagree with culling the weaker herd. We don't need pests in our new age of glory. I'll deal with your friends in the same way too, so don't you worry." He would've kept talking for an eternity, forever torturing Rayse with his drivel, but he noticed something odd about the air. "What's this misty stuff floating around? It's the smoke from before. Well, no matter... Huh?!"

He noticed too late. When he created this space, Arbetus captured everything in the radius of the room. Rayse didn't just have control over the fire in his body. He could channel it through the smoke he creates in the room as well. With a mental nudge, the entire space was engulfed in a bright flash of light. Before he knew it, Rayse could move again, and a heavily-burned Arbetus was in the corner.

"That... that isn't fire magic..." he stuttered out, his consciousness fading.

Rayse replied, "No, it isn't. I am not a fire mage. I don't know any spells, incantations, or enchantments."

Arbetus realized too late from the lines all over Rayse's body, "You.. you're a living rune! That's... impossible... !"

Rayse noticed that Teric and Caden Law were catching up, judging by the sound of footsteps in the hallway, so he ran up to Arbetus and put his palm up to the charred lieutenant's face.

"Do you think... My Lady... predicted my death as well... ?" Arbetus asked, trying to form a smile out of his burnt skin.

Rayse replied coldly, "I don't care."

FWOOSH! After a few moments, there was nothing left of Arbetus but a dark stain on the floors and walls. Rayse relaxed, letting the runes disappear back into his skin, and opened the door finally. As the others made it into the room, Rayse appeared sweaty and tired.

"Could you take any longer next time? I had to deal with one of those bastards myself. That thing wouldn't die until I burned off every last piece of it."

Inside the door was a grand, winding staircase downwards. The walls seemed adorned with gold, and the steps themselves appeared shining. Along the walls were small cubbyholes with a trapped wisp inside to provide light. The staircase appeared to descend forever. As Rayse started his way down, he thought about what the servant had said. If Denebriel could see in the future, what chance did they have? Was all this already determined? He had to change his destiny somehow, and fast.

[Bloodrose]

Without the purple-haired lieutenant to impede their forward progress, Teric and Caden caught up to Rayse in a short amount of time. It was hard for the two to mask their coming, as the mercenary's iron-shod boots rapped out a steady cadence on the stone floor. Warrior and wizard rounded the last corner into the dome-shaped grand room with sword and wand drawn and ready for trouble, but it seemed they had arrived late to the party.

"I'll be sure to ask the next guy if he could die a little quicker for us." Teric quipped, lowering his sword and striding slowly towards Rayse and the golden arch on the opposite side of the room. The air in here smelt heavily of burnt flesh and vaporized metal, and even the magic-wary veteran could feel the traces of the arcane left on the air like a physical fingerprint. Caden, with his obviously more developed senses for such things, paused at the entrance to the room to sniff the air appreciatively, casting his eyes about as if trying to identify the magics used here.

Teric could take a guess.

Great black scorch marks scarred the floor in a couple of places, and Rayse's mention of burning things gave the mercenary all the hints he needed. Last he'd seen of his nephew, the Contractor had only been dabbling with the fiery magics he'd mysterious developed. Judging by the aftermath in this room, Rayse was using those skills for a little more than lighting cigarettes these days.

Is everyone in this damned world using magic but me? The mercenary pondered. His distrust and general phobia for developed magic had always kept him from pursuing the subject to any great length, but more and more Teric was beginning to realize that magic was going to be the dominant weapon of choice in this battle. For the first time, the veteran found himself feeling like a blunt tool brought into an Aleran gun-battle...

"You guys hear that?" Teric whispered loudly as the trio mounted the stairs descending into the earth and made their way cautiously down. As they went deeper and deeper - and deeper they went as the stairs circled around on themselves for what seemed like forever - there was an audible hum on the air that seemed to vibrate right out of the stone walls around them. Even the wisps of trapped and glowing fog set into the recesses of the wall seemed to dance and move with the hum, the light flickering rapidly.

After descending for what seemed like an hour, but could have been little more than several cautious minutes, the trio found that the staircase deposited them onto a flat landing cut into the very bedrock of the earth. While not nearly as grandiose or majestic as the rooms they’d encountered thus far, the landing with its low-slung ceiling and rough hewn walls was nonetheless unnerving and impressive in the same breath. Deep set runes carved into the grey stone glowed with an ethereal light that served as the only illumination. Even in the dark, however, it was easy to see that path straight ahead was blocked by an immovable wall of stone and daemonic looking glyphs. Instead there were two separate tunnels - one branching right, and one branching left - that snaked off into the darkness.

"I suppose the obvious question is: which way do we go?" Teric spoke first. His grip was tight on his sword, his shield readied as well.

[Caden Law]

The obvious answer would have been "We smash right through and keep going," which Rayse tried to say, and Caden cut him off with a clearing of the throat. All eyes fell to the Wizard, who spent a moment looking uncomfortable before explaining, "Not smart. Just from reading the spell on the front, I can tell you this is a nasty piece of work. Probably the heaviest set of wards I've ever seen in one place at one time. And that's saying a lot, actually."

"Define a lot," said Teric, while Rayse simmered (not quite literally) behind them. "I saw a barrier spell splinter three ton iron-cored ballista bolt once. Could it do that?"

"...day and night until the owner gets bored or the army starves to death," Caden replied. "And it'd vaporize the bolt in the process. Follow me for a technical spiel?" Nobody objected. Poor bastards. "This is...basically it's pretty simple. Just really, really, crazy powerful. And redundant. I'm counting three or four spells just in the runes, maybe some base enchantments on the stone itself, probably more spells on the other side and that's not saying anything about runes that could've been shaped inside the material use metals. Judging solely off of what I can see without risking touch or 'mancies, there's a built-in repulsor spell that would basically blow away any attack we make with lethal force. Kiss your sword, arm, shoulder and most of your chest good-bye, and that's before you land in a messy heap about thirty yards back that-a-way. Try direct attacks with magic and we'd just get burned to death.

"But at the same time, there's another spell -- this one here, to be exact -- that's absorbing energy and accelerating it; like water going downhill and picking up speed and power as it goes. If I'm right, again just from looking-"

"Stop looking," Rayse said. "You're a Wizard. The compass says Denebriel's not too much further ahead of us. Crack this shit open and let's go."

Caden grimaced. Teric gave him a look agreeable to Rayse. "Alright," he said. "Stand back and do whatever I tell you to. We might be here a little while."

And so it was that the Wizard began to Work his magic: Runes shaping themselves into the floor and ceiling, and the previously untouched frame of the barrier-clad stone wall. He ducked down both side passages for minutes at a time, continuing his efforts by Rayse's candelit fingertips and Teric's constant vigilance at the door. The mercenary accounted for at least three Catacombs guardsmen on his own time while Caden and Rayse were busy, and all of them went with hardly a gurgle.

When he was done, Caden returned to the barrier and did his best to ignore the bodies. He explained it to them like this: "I've laid the framework for a spell that will basically cut off the barrier's proper energy flows and cause it to overload. The stone should collapse on its own after that, but it might get messy. Stay behind me."

Once the warrior and the fire-mage were safely out of the way, Caden took a deep breath and reached out with his wand. Swish, flick, and then stomp left, stomp right. He whipped the wand into a circle that trailed ghostly blue feathers from start to finish, and then he Spoke a single Word only barely audible to anyone listening: "Collapse."

It was old fashioned Wizardry, unmodified and unadulterated and all too subtle once the feathers had fallen. For a few seconds, nothing happened at all. Teric and Rayse even exchanged morbid looks in the dark while they waited.

And then all those runes began to glow blue at the same time that the glyphs on the stone stopped. What's more, the runes on the frame of the door began to shift and move in conveyor-belt fashion from left to right and back again, until a visible wall of blue feathers swirled in front of them.

Caden draw back his wand and thrust it into that wall of feathers. Less than a second later, it wall gone and the tunnel plunged into darkness to the sound of ancient stone crumbling and metals bending, tearing and breaking outright in the process. When it was all over with, Rayse lit up a fingertip and Caden responded in kind by casting a pale light from his wand. The way ahead was clear now. Darkness awaited, but torches could be seen lining the walls a suitable distance ahead of them. They burned cold and yellow-green, and even at this distance Caden could hear voices coming from them.

He grimaced in spite of himself.

"I should add, gentlemen, that we're dealing with a Forgotten One. Denebriel is a Wizard, a Sorceress, and a Necromancer."

"Which tells us dick-all," said Rayse as he took the lead. Teric fell in at the middle and Caden brought up the rear.

"Saint Denebriel is one of a select few survivors of something called the War of the Tap. She has a line directly to the source of all magic. But, judging by..." they neared the torches enough to see ghastly faces burning away inside. "That. Judging by that, I'm guessing she's using necromancy to power her access to the Tap. Basically the opposite of Xem'zund, taking the power through trickery and guile instead of being given it by a higher power," or earning it the hard way, the Wizard did not say.

"Common, please," Teric said.

"She's eating the souls of the dead to make herself a demigod."

"...I'm glad I'm wearing brown pants," said Teric.

"Basically, yes. There's more to it than that. Belief of the masses probably factors into it. The point is, I might be able to cut her off from her power source. Knock her down to the level of merely being a powerful mage instead of a minor god."

"I like that," Teric said. "Mages die pretty easy if you stab them enough."

"How do you know so much about this, anyway?" Rayse asked.

Caden merely pointed to the Hat and said, "Salvic Wizard. Denebriel might be a Saint, but she still started out as one of us. The first of us. The codifier for what makes a Wizard a Wizard in the lands of Salvar. She might be hard-lining against magi now, but she still wrote most of the books I studied as a boy. We have common ground and from there...not too much of a stretch."

This was, of course, an explanation that neatly omitted the fact that Caden really did have a lot in common with their enemy. As Teric had seen, he had at least some Necromancy skills in his own right. As neither of them had witnessed, he was also a Sorcerer. A few thousand years ago, in another time and in a place very much like this one, Denebriel herself might have lead a raid on some forgotten tyrant of the arcane.

The hallway seemed to continue forever after that, though the torches eventually grew close enough that the lighting improved. So too did the condition of the hall itself: Stonework became increasingly polished and well maintained, until the trio actually happened upon a particularly wretched little man tasked with cleaning them. Teric dispatched him in short order and they kept moving. The hallway expanded out to either side, and the ceiling grew higher as well, until finally they came upon a grated steel gate.

Teric looked at Caden shrugged at Rayse gave the thumbs-up to Teric who in turn broke the gate off its henges with a few precise saber swings. It helped that the steel, at least, hadn't been very well taken care of. Given what lay beyond it, the trio couldn't really question the dead wretch's reasoning.

They entered into a cavernous chamber now, circular and consisting of stark white walls, a domed ceiling reminiscent of aurorae on a cold night sky, and a floor that was suspended above a pit of molten silver glowing a hundred feet beneath them. Within the center of the room was a great metal chair, like a blast furnace reshaped into a throne, and sitting within was a huge figure with icy blue skin and a thick, snow white beard to match a wild mane of hair. He wore violet silk woven with glowing silver sigils and glyphs; a toga all the way to his knees and pants and sandals beneath that. He held in one hand a sword, a thing of war that glowed dutifully even in the bright light of this chamber. It was bigger than all three would-be assassins put together.

And as they entered, this contradictory giant opened eyes like diamonds and glared at them.

"Who seeks to disturb the Sainted Lady?" he asked, his Voice grating like icebergs gone to war.

The trio exchanged morbid looks, and immediately began pointing at each other. The dichotomous sentinel was not amused.

"You," he said, pointing to Rayse. "Go forward. You are expected. You," he said, pointing to the warrior and Wizard. "Die here."

"I'm almost jealous," Caden mumbled.

"Don't be," Rayse told them, and went forward without much more than a backwards glance.

Teric sighed once the fire mage was out of sight. "Either I'm going senile, or I've done this before," he said to himself, then yelled, "Wouldn't have any relatives in Scara Brae would ya?"

"The Etherspite Guardian knows no family," said the giant. "Commissioned from a time before modern memory, I-"

Caden hit him with a lightning bolt.

This did absolutely nothing but piss him off, and the entire chamber rattled with how loudly he Voiced his disapproval. At this, the Wizard finally drew his rod. "So, yeah. Not my brightest move."

"Indeed," said Teric as the Guardian charged them.

[Rayse Valentino]

In the great silvery furnace chamber there were three exits. One was the ruined gate the trio had come through, another was the door that Rayse was heading to, which resembled the golden archway he saw earlier but was silver. The last door was the same, and Rayse could only guess that this guardian's life was keeping it closed.

As the great door creaked and slid open, Rayse informed the others, "If you take care of this guy before I'm done, go on without me. I got a score to settle."

At this point, The Contractor had ditched them twice so they wouldn't see him fight. Hopefully after this next one, he could join up with them in earnest and not have to hide his abilities. As he stepped in, the doors closed behind them and left an eerie echo of their slam throughout the new hallway. After walking for nearly a minute, he reached a similar door that was opened for him in the same ghost-like manner. Stepping inside, his expression turned serious as he saw his target.

"Finally, we're alone," smiled Tyray, pressing down upon his cane in anticipation. "I hope for your sake that you've improved since we last met."

It was a room similar to the last one, but plated in a strange type of shining gold that provided a large amount of light in the room. The floor was solid, but the gold on it seemed like it was painted on, with some spots scratched. The circular ceiling had paintings and inscriptions on it, like it was telling some sort of forgotten history. At the end of the room, Stefan Tyray stood in front of what looked like a king's throne, padded coverings and all. These underground structures were starting to make sense.

"Is this... some sort of palace?" Rayse asked, looking around.

Clothed in a long brown coat, a ruffled tucked-in shirt and black dress pants, Stefan looked like an aged, relaxed businessman. His long hair was filled with curls and almost seemed to float in the air as it swayed between movements. His eyes were a shallow blue, almost glassy in appearance. He had a long, pointed nose and around his hands were fingerless gray gloves. Of all the lieutenants, he resembled a normal human the most with the exception of his eyes. Anyone who knew him well enough could look into them and see a monster.

His deep, jovial voice echoed throughout the room as he spoke, "The ancient structures under Knife's Edge played an important role in The Wars Of The Tap, but I assume you're not interested in that sort of thing."

"Damn right I'm not."

"It's a shame I didn't get to see Teric. We had some good times, but that's another story you do not care for."

"Since you apparently know me so well, how about we get right to it? I've been waiting to try this out," he mentioned casually. "You should be honored. It took all of my thread to wrap this up."

The thread was the special spidersilk that he procured from one of his allies on a job a while ago. Especially reactive to magic, it was the perfect tool in Rayse's arsenal. He snapped his fingers with his free hand to produce a flame on his right thumb, which he rubbed across the blade, setting the threads on fire. Although, it was a strange fire that immediately started burning intensely despite not reaching more than an inch beyond the blade. With both hands on the handle, he pulled the sword up above his head. Stefan Tyray remained motionless at this action. He was somewhat curious to see what the young man was up to. With a strong heave, Rayse swung downwards, stopping just short of the floor as he angled the blade towards his side so that it stopped behind him. In the arc of the slash, a flaming crescent raced towards Tyray, who disappeared and reappeared several meters away as the crescent hit the wall and exploded, spreading a cloud of smoke throughout the room that was quickly dissipated by Tyray's magic.

Denebriel's servant lambasted Rayse, "You'll need to do better than that to hit me, child."

Disappearing into several streams of flame, Rayse reformed behind Tyray and swung at his torso, once again producing a flaming crescent as Tyray dodged to the side using his air manipulation. As the crescent hit the wall and exploded, Stefan pointed his palm at Rayse and released a torrent of highly-pressurized air in his direction, sending the young man flying backwards in pain and slamming into the ground, knocking the sword out of his hands.

"Damn!" groaned Rayse, slowly picking himself up. "Feels like I got hit with a train on that one..."

"Of course!" Tyray raised his arms, palms pointing upward. "The unseen is my ally. I simply suck out all the air between us, then forcibly fill it back up. Causing you pain is but a trifle."

Then I'm sure you actually need to see me to be able to attack me. Rayse fished into his side-pouch and pulled out a small tar-based mini-molotov. Lightning it with his thumb, he tossed it at the ground between Tyray and himself. The black, choking smoke immediately filled the room, but Denebriel's servant didn't move an inch. He turned around and pointed his palm into the smoke. Suddenly, the smoke dispersed from around his palm and once again Rayse hit the floor violently after using his fiery teleportation trick. The rest of the smoke vanished as well.

Tyray sighed, "You probably thought I needed to see you, right? You are beginning to tire me. Where was that power I saw?"

Rayse picked himself up again, but now he had a few streams of blood dripping down his face. This wasn't going anywhere. Was this the extent of his ability with that storehouse of power? Regardless, he couldn't afford to not use it anymore. He was already dipping into that power for all those body relocations. The tattoos formed all over his body once more, and he ignited like a match, burning softly with an blue glow.

"Ah, there it is," Tyray smiled. "Now! Show me what you can do!"

"With pleasure," Rayse smiled back.

[Bloodrose]

"Can I count on you to watch my back?" Teric asked the wizard next to him hurriedly as the Etherspite Guardian closed in on them.

"Absolutely," Caden nearly beamed, his smile was so wide. "as long as you keep your back between him and me."

Cute. The mercenary wanted to retort, not entirely appreciating the wizard's joking nature, but at the same time somewhat relieved by his cool confidence. The Salvic wizard had demonstrated thus far that he was as useful and resourceful an ally as any, so Teric found himself hopeful that that same resourcefulness would come into play here.

Any further conversation between the two was made impossible by their hulking foe, however, as any further delay in action would have made them sitting ducks for the giant's massive greatsword.

The veteran warrior charged straight at the approaching giant, his preternatural speed catching even the otherworldly Guardian by surprise. The blue-skinned hulk raised his sword with both hands in a massive overhead chop, but the weapon fell too late to catch the cat-like mercenary as he ducked to run between the Etherspite Guardian's legs and come out behind him. Sharp bits of stone ricocheted behind him as the huge sword shattered the stone surface of the platform where it struck.

As the Guardian recovered from the colossal miss, Teric made to hamstring the brute with one precise cut of his blade. Unfortunately for the mercenary, trying to hack through the Guardian's pants turned out to be akin to trying to cut through dragonscale. In fact, given the generally supernatural appearance of the giant's silver-runed garb, the pants likely were drangonscale...

So much for that idea. The veteran thought dismally, giving up quickly on any hopes of crippling their opponent early on. He contemplated running in a bid to open up some space between himself and the Etherspite, but it turned out that fleeing wasn't entirely necessary. As the Guardian made to pivot and face the much smaller mercenary, a pillar of stone shot up out of the floor right behind the behemoth's right shoulder. The giant literally turned into a pillar that hadn't occupied the space behind him just seconds earlier, and the resulting collision - which looked for all the world like a big man walking right into a door jamb - was almost comical.

Pests! The Etherspite Guardian roared, a massive hand coming up to rub it's face appreciatively where it'd struck the pillar. Granted a moment of inactivity, Teric cast his glance towards Caden questioningly. The wizard was busy running around the outside edge of the stone platform, his wand and rod swirling and dancing with ethereal blue feathers through the air as he ran, the tip of his hat flopping this way and that as he went. Since the spell slinger wasn't just standing around looking bored, the mercenary could only conclude that the fortuitous act of geomancy had been his handiwork.

The next couple of minute proceeded in similar fashion to the one that had just lapsed. Using his speed to keep just out of harm’s way, Teric would wait for an opening and then attempt to press the advantage, launching several barrages of attacks only to be turned away by the Guardian's thick skin, runed-clothing, and massive blade. More than once the veteran found himself staring down the wrong end of that greatsword, only to be saved when a pillar or a wall of stone jutted up out of the arena floor to stand between the two combatants. Caden's apparent skill with manipulating the earth was proving incredibly useful, and by the time the Etherspite Guardian had to break down the seventh pillar or crush through the third wall, frustration was beginning to register on the ancient giant's bearded face.

I will crush you for your insolence. The behemoth announced, his voice even deeper and more imposing now that his ire was raised. He kept pushing forward, despite the stone barriers constantly butting into his path, and since he couldn't seem to retaliate in any meaningful way, Teric was forced to keep giving up ground. The edge of the platform loomed several paces behind him, and the mercenary was saddled with the unfortunate mental image of being pushed over the edge into the molten silver below...

No... The mercenary thought idly, ducking as another swing of the Guardian's soared rushed overhead, the force of its passing creating a gust of wind like a mini-hurricane. It’s too simple. It'll never work.

Etherspite roared, visibly angered now - a sharp contrast to the cool, even downright ice cold demeanor he'd possessed when they'd first entered. As his prey ran out of platform, the monster raised his sword over his head once more and was about to bring it down on the mercenary's head like a rockslide when in the blink of an eye the smaller man was gone. Teric reappeared a dozen paces to the right, well of out harm’s way as the floor beneath the Guardian's feet shot upwards like a catapult, the surface of the manipulated section angled steeply towards the open air above the molten pit.

Had it not been deep enough to pass for a mountain grunting, Teric would have guessed that the giant yelped in surprise as he physically launched into open air and over the edge of the platform. Looking to the center of the battleground, the mercenary found Caden just standing there, wand and rod poised as if he'd simply been waiting for the right moment to send their foe toppling into oblivion. With the knowledge that the wizard was safe, Teric then stepped gingerly to the edge to cast his gaze down into the silver below. There were no ripples to indicate where the giant had fallen, but then again, liquid metal didn't exactly ripple like water when disturbed.

"You know," Teric called to Caden, his tone almost hopeful, "that seemed just a little too easy."

[Caden Law]

The look Caden gave Teric after he had spoken was the somatic equivalent of a ninety page essay of ways to tell someone to not tempt fate, most of which would roughly translate as an unspoken but strongly conveyed shut the hell up! The Wizard actually shuddered a little bit as he pointedly did not say any of this, mostly from anger but also from sheer justifiable eccentricity. After all, Caden was one of those rare people who had enough experience to know that when you tempt fate, or the gods governing it, somebody listens.

Teric stared at him with a shrug, took one last look to the molten silver below and left it at that. There was the din of a bona fide firefight from the exit that Rayse had taken, and work obviously still remained. The mercenary didn't sheathe his weapons and didn't let down his guard.

In all likelihood, this experienced paranoia was what allowed Teric to get out of the way when a torrent of molten silver shot towards the ceiling as if it were merely a foreshock of the vengeful scream that followed it. The room shook so violently that every single wall cracked, and the midnight ceiling burned and crumbled to bare stone where the molten silver hit it. For a few seconds after that, there was nothing but a rumble; intense but otherwise quiet.

And then a hand the size of an ordinary man's chest lunged up out of that molten metal, crushed onto the nearest ledge where the Etherspite Guardian had fallen, and gouged a set of trenches into the floor as its owner struggle for purchase. The other hand followed suit. Metal slicked and dripped off after a few seconds, each square inch exposed to reveal skin that was still icy blue and very nearly unblemished, but for a few oily black cracks here and there. Seconds ticked by as Teric and Caden both ran through a few evolutionary forests' worth of plans, contingencies for when the plans failed, escape plans for when the contingencies failed, and relatively painless ways to commit suicide when the escape plans didn't pan out. Neither one actually tried to escape, which may or may not have been a credit to their characters given the only exits available: The Guardian's hands held tight near the first entrance, the door to the room Rayse had vanished into was smouldering from gods only knew what, and the actual exit presumably lead right to Denebriel herself.

"I should've kept my mouth shut," Teric admitted after one of the hands lead to a forearm and elbow getting purchase on that ledge.

"Yes," said Caden, as the no longer bearded Guardian's head plunged up into view. "You should have."

The thing positively roared this time, its Voice billowing the two adventurers' hair and clothes and forcing their knees to shake from the sheer pressure of it. Its lips were cracked, its eyes had turned glossy and black, and its teeth were all chipped and ruined like the edges of a conqueror's sword; fully functional and all the more barbaric for it. The Guardian gave one last heave with its other hand and pushed itself back up onto the platform, covered in leftover blobs of silver and otherwise completely nude; which was how Teric and Caden learned that it was without a true gender, for which they probably should have been grateful.

"ENOUGH!" it roared, stomping once and thrusting out one arm. At once, its sword returned to grip, tumbling end over end until it met a jarring stop within the cracked giant's hand. That impact alone was loud enough to register like a dozen hammers striking one gong, and jarred loose yet more silver from the creature's body. "Let it be done!"

"As death threats go, that one was lacking in originality," Caden noted in the kind of detached calm that true terror brings.

"Don't s'pose you've got any aces up your sleeve?" Teric asked.

"Keep him distracted for a few seconds."

The mercenary didn't waste time asking questions after that. The Guardian took one huge step towards them and cracked the entire floor doing it. Teric charged forward, practically dragging his saber behind him, and Caden sidestepped while putting away his wand in lieu of the old conscript's sword that had seen him through so much.

"Old dog," the Guardian spat, bursting into a run of its own. "Wretched old mongrel!" It lead with one foot sliding sideways to a stop, sword thrusting, and Teric dodged it the same way he would've dodged a battering ram. He hit the floor rolling from one shoulder to the other, from the other shoulder to the adjoining elbow, from elbow to hip to knee and finally back up to his other foot with a dancer's twist that saw him narrowly avoid a kick that sent up waves of dust and debris in its wake.

"Do you really think the same tricks will work twice?" asked the giant, and Teric was keenly aware that its footing was surer now, and the terrain was no longer prejudiced in his favor. Frenzied with pain and humiliation, unhindered by the subtle manipulations of Wizardry, the Etherspite went from being almost comically awkward and avoidably slow to brutally precise and blindingly quick. Teric didn't even have time for a wisecrack as he tried to flank the monster and found himself dodging a blind kick from it. He ducked under the back of its sword-hand and leapt into a tumble that cleared him of its grasping fingers. The mercenary sprang to his feet as the Guardian took its great sword in both hands and stomped forward once -- hard enough that the floor beneath Teric's feet actually shifted against him for a change.

"Now is the hour of your death, mongrel!"

The Guardian swung.

Three tons of solid stone went flying on impact, scattering into the adjacent wall enough force to leave a tapestry of craters from floor level to the base of the ceiling, and taking out part of that as well. Further dust swept up in a tidal wave-like cloud, rolling hard into the wall, the ceiling, and even that molten silver pool below.

The old warrior's buckler shield rang across the floor to Caden's feet, clattering thrice and then stopping.

The Guardian stood still for but a moment, surveying its handiwork with the grim satisfaction of inhuman age and hatred, until at last it noticed two things wrong with the scene before it: There wasn't so much as a drop of blood on the ground and the tip of its sword felt a bit too heavy for comfort. The Guardian turned a stunned eye to look-

"No," Teric said to it from where he crouched, both hands clasped to his saber's hilt, the blade fixed neatly against the former leading edge of the Guardian's weapon. "It's not."

"DA-"

There was a crack like an Alerian rifle firing. Teric was gone one moment, tumbling shoulder-first to the Guardian's other side the next, his saber leading the way in a somersault that would've done any gymnast proud. As he passed, the Guardian's face and a part of its shoulder both erupted with roughly patterned cuts that, had they connected in the same spot, would've formed a crude X. The misshapen strike was still enough to tear off the thing's nose and rob it of its upper lip and a few teeth, sundering the shoulder clear to something that looked passably similar to a glass bone. When the Guardian screamed this time, it was positively deafening.

Teric hit the ground skidding, rolled a few times and barely stopped himself short of going over the edge to the silvery grave boiling below. He shot a look towards the mage now, expecting some sort of miracle for his efforts.

The Sorcerer Blueraven did not disappoint him.

Caden Screamed, and magic quite literally erupted from him as he thrust that plain conscript sword forward; pushing it along with the handle of his Arcanist's Rod. In front of him solidified a blade of raw force, its outline marked in transparent blue feathers and a million tiny dancing stars. As the blade's tip pushed forward, it grew longer and slightly wider, until finally a guard appeared behind it and then a fully formed hilt, clasped in a fully formed hand, leading to an intricately detailed pommel. Between this sword and the Guardian's own body, there was as much of a size difference as the one that existed between the Guardian's blade and either Teric or Caden put together.

Already wounded and distracted, the Guardian didn't stand a chance of dodging the spell or coming up with a way to counter it. Caden's Sorcerous construct plowed into the thing's midsection and drove it clear off its feet, pinning it to a wall before the tip ever managed to pierce the Guardian's cracked, icy hide.

"YOU!" the Guardian howled in a rage, beating at the ghostly weapon to no effect. More cracks spread out from the point of impact as it struggled. "YOU WIELD THE POWER FORGOTTEN! A SORCERER LIKE-"

The blade pierced the giant's body at last.

The Guardian actually vomited oily black all over itself, matching the viscous fluid pouring out around the conjured sword as Caden gave another push and sank the weapon in to its hilt.

"Not even close," Blueraven Said, his Voice causing a shudder to go through every loose speck of dust, puff of smoke or glob of melted silver in the room.

Twist.

The Guardian's body split in half, midsection falling into the metal below with a limp splash. Its wounded shoulder broke next, and the silent upper half fell away as the blade faded out of existence. Whatever its age, endurance, determined resolve and the powers animating it; the Guardian did not come back for another round.

Caden waited for a few seconds before he lost composure, and by then he was wheezing puffs of blue aether, the first breaths of which turned to feathers before dissipating as they neared the ground. He spent a few seconds more sheathing his sword and then leaning on his rod, not exhausted or even close to collapse, but visibly winded all the same. It was like any athlete being given an unexpected break after a few seconds of wicked exertion, and it showed.

Teric watched this whole display rather mutely, taking his time to recollect his senses before he reacquired his buckler. He and Caden stared at the door to the room where Rayse, presumably, was still settling his own affairs. There was a silent, but mutual, agreement to honor their fellow's wishes and press forward without him. As they turned towards the heavy gate leading to the last stretch of their journey, Teric finally, carefully asked, "Could you have done that at any time?"

"Yes," Caden answered, truthfully.

"Why didn't you?"

"I was saving it," said the Sorcerer. "Trying to keep that power undetectable by any of Denebriel's security measures. Hopefully she didn't hear that big idiot screaming, or pick up on the spike of power involved."

Teric was silent as Caden went to work dismantling this next gate. He was actually scribbling plain runes on it this time, using a worn down pencil from Gods only knew where. Magic or alchemy must've been why the letters and sigils, runes and whatever else he sketched became thicker, more visible. The Wizard completed his Work and took a few steps back, prompting Teric to do the same.

"Could you have done that...that...flash-step-swing-whatever thing sooner?" Caden asked.

"Maybe," spoke the warrior.

"You must've been one hell of a fighter in your younger days," Caden said with a tone of near-reverence.

Teric smirked. "Probably."

A few seconds more spent in silence. Caden put away the pencil and again took out both Wand and Rod, giving each one a twirl. Teric spat off to the side and both men breathed deep.

"It's been an honor," one or the other or both said.

Blueraven pointed his wand, triggered the spell, and the door collapsed with as little drama as possible. One last hallway greeted them, plainly let and virtually undecorated, leading to a simple pair of doors that would've gone well on a small town chapel. They already hung slightly ajar, and bright white light issued from beyond with neither shadow nor silhouette nor vaguest detail to show for it.

"We've been expected," Caden noted. "Although I can't say I'm surprised."

"True. It'd still be a shame to disappoint her," Teric replied, shouldering ahead and leading the way.

[Rayse Valentino]

The tense feeling of pressure from the power that begged to flow out of his body caused Rayse's muscles to turn stiff and constricted. Although he wanted to relax, this unnatural excess of fire made him feel uncomfortable. Putting his hands up and making them into fists, he pulled his fingers inward so his knuckles were facing Tyray. If he was feeling tense, then clearly he needed to loosen up. He started jabbing the air, his motions swift and his body moving along with the motion. While he was not a master of waterdancing as Teric was, his combat motions have always been fluid and putting the full force of his body behind every hit. He started bouncing up and down, alternating which foot is raised in a motion resembling a boxer. Tyray observed this action with curiosity, and with every punch to the air he was wondering what Rayse was doing.

However, it started to become apparent when Denebriel's servant felt something hit the spherical air shield that surrounded his body and gave him the magical defense that Rayse couldn't penetrate no matter what he did last time they met. It was a small burst of blue fire that hit the shield and quickly dispersed. Tyray looked over to Rayse and immediately deduced what had happened: he was emulating the trick with the sword from earlier, except this time he didn't need the magical thread as a catalyst. Rayse threw more jabs out with his left from across the room, causing little explosions to hit Tyray's shield. Now feeling confident in his swing, The Contractor tossed out a strong right hook, causing a bigger explosion to hit the shield. A wind blew from the impact, ruffling Tyray's flowing locks but otherwise giving him no additional worry.

Tyray glared at his opponent, "Child, you should know already that my shield is impenetrable. The air around me is so thick that nothing can pass through."

However, this didn't stop Rayse, who kept punching like the air was a sandbag, his swing becoming fiercer and fiercer. Then, he felt it. Like a building pressure in his body, it was the uncontrollable force that slept in his body while he was plagued with the magical illness. With a quick left jab, he tossed a right punch with his body behind it, letting loose a force so strong that a tiny bit of it punctured through Tyray's shield and hit him in the cheek, causing him to reel back a bit. Just enough of it had gone through to feel like a real punch.

"W-what? How?"

With Rayse now fully in his element, he let loose a barrage of punches with little bits and pieces going through the shield and assaulting Tyray directly. He finished it off by jumping into the air, spinning around and kicking the air in Tyray's direction with both legs before landing sharply on one knee. The last kick almost went through the shield completely, causing a fiery explosion right on top of Stefan that blew him into the wall. Regaining his composure, the air magician retaliated with several scathing gusts of wind that momentarily put out Rayse's flame and knocked him around like a pinata.

"Impressive!" Stefan wiped away some blood on his lips. "Clearly you've learned to draw out your power correctly, but it is not enough! It took ten thousand years for me to feel this kind of excitement again. For this I will award you a glimpse of the afterlife."

Rayse reignited his flame, breaking free from the winds and jumping into the air above Tyray, pointing his right index finger downwards and quickly rubbing his thumb over the ring on the aforementioned finger, the reaction of which created a stream of fire that careened downwards toward Tyray, who dodged out of the way once more, leaving only a wispy after-image. The ring on Rayse's finger was much like the thread; it amplified his abilities on use. The explosion this time filled the entire room with smoke and left a smaller crater in the floor. Rayse landed, but before he could get his bearings he was hit by a powerful impact of air that nearly knocked him off his feet. The smoke in the room cleared momentarily, leaving the two warriors once more. Tyray was unharmed, but Rayse was clearly expending his power and getting nothing in return.

A rumble coursed through the room. Neither Rayse nor Tyray seemed surprised. Tyray had set the room up to be airtight so The Contractor couldn't escape, but the force of Teric's and Caden Law's battle reached them anyway.

Rayse didn't particularly care why Tyray didn't seem surprised, but he decided to ask anyway, "Don't care that they're gonna reach Queen Bitch before we're done here?"

Tyray laughed, "Hah! I am aware of that wizard's ability. In fact, I know more about him than you do. Were he born in a different era, he would be among us. Of that I'm sure."

Rayse smiled, "Then I guess that just makes you unlucky."

Reaching into his pocket, The Contractor pulled out another tar-based mini-molotov and allowed the fire around his body to light it. He threw it on the ground between him and Tyray to once again create a thick, choking smoke throughout the room. Tiring now of the same trick, Tyray dispersed the smoke and expected an attack from behind, but to his surprise Rayse had not moved an inch from his spot. He was pointing his right index finger at Tyray and released the same stream of fire as before. This time, Denebriel's servant did not have the time to dodge, so he put out both his hands in front of him as fast as he could and created the strongest air shield in his arsenal. The resulting explosion sent hundreds of blue rockets of fire all over the room, creating an array of lights that resembled fireworks. At the end of it, even Tyray was winded, but still standing unharmed.

"I am sick of your insolence!" Tyray steamed. That was the closest he had ever come to dying in ten thousand years. He wasn't going to give Rayse another opportunity like that.

Pooling all the air from the room, the sorcerer created a tornado with high speed winds. Pushing it towards Rayse, the winds were like high speed knives that threatened to cleave him in half. Gritting his teeth, The Contractor tried to disappear into flames to reappear near Tyray again, but he found that he couldn't disperse his body. The air that Rayse's fire was consuming was completely gone, replaced by this vicious magical wind. He was even finding it hard to breathe. Had Tyray finally nullified his power? Concentrating as hard as he could, he stood still as the winds passed through his body harmlessly, leaving light trails of blue fire. He was trying to make his body ethereal for as long as he could, so that the winds couldn't harm him, but it was one of the most mentally tasking things he could do. He slipped up and a wind cut across his back. The pain sent him to his knees and Tyray seemed pleased. He decided to have fun with his prey and turned the cutting potency of the winds into a force of impact, hitting Rayse but not slicing through him. In the new few moments, The Contractor almost lost consciousness as he was hit hundreds of times by the tornado of wind. Then, the tornado faded and Rayse was left on all fours, his body bruised and his arms almost giving way to the pain. The tattoos all over his body were starting to fade.

[Caden Law]

Double duty this round: Teric's out with the flu. I'll post twice.

Caden and Teric had both seen places and things of splendor and grandeur alike. They had seen cities that glittered during blackest night, dungeons that were entirely silk and mental, and mazes without walls. In a combined seventy or eighty years, these two men had seen more than some immortals ten times their collective age and experience.

Denebriel's private sanctum arcanum blew all of that straight out of the water and into low orbit. Like most of the catacombs beneath the Church, the sanctum took up more space than should have been physically possible. The height of the room alone meant that its ceiling would've elevated the streets above by another ten or eleven feet. From wall to wall, the width of it could've probably accomodated a city block with room to spare. Everywhere were shelves, most of them too tall to see the tops, and every single one of them was positively choked with books, trinkets, fetishes, idols and more besides. Rack after rack of focii -- staves, wands, rods, glimmering daggers and ornate spears and scepters -- littered the place at random. The space between shelves was the width of a street, and there were desks scattered here and there for convenience's sake. Many showed signs of recent use.

The ceiling was like the interior of a grand chapel, lined with lanterns that burned gold, and a great chandelier that was like a solid blue diamond shaped to hold candles.

Fine art lined the walls and the decorated the exteriors of the shelves; great tapestries that hadn't seen sunlight since the days when Knife's Edge was a tent city basking in the fallout of a magic war. Some of the pictures were animate, maddening things to look at. Others were age-old stick figure renditions of moments so historic as to be forgotten.

...and there were people in here.

Men and women in white and gold finery, like priests, monks and nuns, all smiling placidly as they studied and experimented with no notice of the two interlopers. Drifting above them were people made out of congealed light in the rough likeness of people, their actual features rendered androgynous and blinding. Ribbon-like trails followed each one, coming in rows from the shoulder-blades. They all had hoods and modest clothing besides. Caden, at least, recognized them immediately from stories he read as a boy -- the ones he could never quite bring himself to ignore or forget.

"The Ethereal Sway."

Teric grunted something indistinguishable. Caden took it as an excuse to say, "The Saint's Blessed Angels," and, "Her Holiest Messengers."

"Yeah," Teric said, looking to the nearest attendant and calling, "There's another way in here, isn't there."

The young woman was dumbfounded for a few seconds. It didn't seem to occur to her that the two of them were actual threats. Maybe Denebriel's equivalent Death Lords lost the ability to sense danger during their tutelage, reacquiring it later on the way that men and women learn to like coffee or specific kinds of chocolate? Either way, she told them, "Oh, certainly. You could have simply petitioned Father Fortnight, or if you're newly Beatified Novitiates, you could have taken the side door from the Lady Saint's room."

Teric stared at her.

He kept staring at her.

In point of fact, Teric stared at her so hard that she caught fire out of sheer embarassment and confusion. A few seconds later, he turned to Caden and spat every single godforsaken syllable: "I. Hate. Magic."

"...which is really funny since you almost had a Wizardly Voice just n-shuttingupnow," Caden replied, looking away lest he suffer the same fate as that poor little librarian.

High magic environments have a tendency to be empathetic. Caden was having enough trouble keeping himself under control as it was, and didn't at all want to provoke Teric into making things worse. It was fortunate that he looked away when and in the direction that he did though: His eyes fell upon a specific weapons rack located close by. It was one of the only racks in the entire room dedicated to swords, and Caden recognized each of them from experience: Either using them, being cut by them, or simply being chased with them.

There was a Coronian broadsword, similar to the Conscript Sword given him at Eluriand; Dheath greatsword, little more than a meatcleaver the size of a human body; Akashiman katana beside a Raiaeran fluteblade, set tip to tip for art's sake; a Haidian torchsword, its blade glowing hot orange in the shape of a jagged flame; a Fallien horseman's saber, curved to the point of impracticality for any use outside of a saddle...

..and another sword that Caden recognized all too well. Because it was one he really had seen, up close and personal, and there was a one-in-twenty-or-less chance that it had tasted his blood before.

"Hate magic, do you?" Caden asked, grinning that awful Wizard grin as he strolled right up to the sword rack and plucked off his weapon of choice. There was no consequence; no security, nothing to stop him at all. Denebriel's lack of foresight showed here and now, perhaps more than anywhere or anywhen else in this little jaunt: She never expected anyone to make it this far with hostile intent, and as such she had no preparations whatsoever to stop them.

"Eh?" Teric sounded.

Caden turned, then threw him a weapon.

The old warhound of a mercenary caught it with his buckler hand, staring for a few seconds before finally asking, "What the hell is it?"

"That," said Caden with a dramatic flourish that fell woefully flat. He was trying too hard. It was worth the effort. Here's why: "Is a Magicide Blade. Enchanted dehlar. Solidified anti-magic. That you can kill people with."

Teric stared at the weapon long and in silence.

And then a smile very slowly, broadly forced itself onto his face.

"Y'know something, Law? You're good people."

Another attendant came calling. Teric hacked her head right off without even deigning to look. True to the Wizard's word, the Magicide Blade simply broke the magic in the young woman's body, negating and distorting and outright annihilating it in a spectacular geyser of rainbow sparks from her neck stump. The corpse collapsed to the ground and the third attendant finally made the connection that, "We're under attack!"

Teric looked at him in a way you might associate with a rampaging postal worker. The man hurled a fireball at him and Teric sundered it to nothing with one swing. "I'm going to enjoy this way too much," he noted.

"We're under at-"

The fun stopped before it could even begin. It did so with an abruptness not unlike hitting a brick wall covered in velvet. The attendant stopped his cry in mid-sentence, recomposed himself without another word, and went about picking up the mess of scrolls he had dropped in the previous frenzy. Teric look at Caden shrugged at Teric gave his newfangled sword a twirl and stopped short of going for the kill. The doors they had taken to enter the sanctum slammed shut. A hundred more opened up in thin-air, and one by one the attendants all left.

She came just before the attendant in front of Teric could depart.

There are certain expectations of divine beings, whether they were ever mortal or not. Simply put: Saint Denebriel met or exceeded all of them. She was tall, elegant and sensual in the same breath, so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her and so regal that her mere presence almost demanded a bent knee and a bowed head. She was the model for what Salvic women wished they could be; she was the living, moving portrait that Elven women couldn't hope to envy. So pale her skin almost glittered in the sanctum's light, her hair like polished silver, her eyes gold at the iris and all the more dazzling for it. She wore white robes that were practically tailored from the concept of elegance and femininity; mostly silk embroidered with exotic metals and decorated in jewels that didn't have names. The only leather on her were sandals, the straps of which ran to her knees.

And she walked on air, descending from some point high in the room as if idling her way down a flight of stairs. By the time she reached ground-level, she had drawn out a grimoire and tucked it almost daintily beneath one arm. The other, she lay about the attendant's shoulders and Said to him, "Go, Daniel. I will call you when it is safe."

He moved to say something. She hushed him with a finger to his lips, then ushered him through the doorway and shut it afterwards. Only thin air remained, and the silent Sway watching from on high.

A glance to Teric. She dismissed him without so much as a sneer or a blink. He didn't even warrant that much to her. A look to Caden, and one perfect brow arched just a bit higher as she Said, "I feel I should know you, Wizard. You're the one who cut off my intake spell."

"You didn't exactly make it hard," Caden replied, his voice only slightly shaking as he stared down a demigod. "Your work was powerful, but it had all the intricacy of a rank amateur." He met impassiveness with a snide smile, and Denebriel rolled her eyes.

She was probably about to say something when Teric more or less blurred into view behind her, his boots squealing like tire rubber on the sanctum's marble tiled floor. He took a swing with the Magicide Blade-

Denebriel threw the book at him.

To Teric's credit, he managed to cut it in half.

To his misfortune, he managed to cut it in half.

Magic collapsed in on itself and detonated. Denebriel shaped the explosion with the slightest of efforts, and Teric took all of it. The impact was like being hit by a moving brick wall, and the mercenary went flying back from it without so much as a scream. Twenty feet later, he hit the floor. Ten feet after that, he came skidding along to a stop at the foot of a shelf. In the same instant, ice formed into both a ten foot tall halo above Caden's head and a waist-high ring around his legs; the Wizard drew in power so hard and fast that it literally froze the air around him, and he already had it channeled and ready before Denebriel had even finished with Teric.

The spell he threw was raw energy shaped like a flaming red raven, its core a livid blue-black, trailing feathers that scorched anything they touched.

Magic Missile or Thermal Lance -- whatever it truly was -- the spell struck a few inches short of Denebriel and exploded in a tidal wave of arcane fire that rolled right over one of her shoulders and set fire to a tapestry on the side of shelf several rows down. The shelf itself went undamaged. Denebriel went undamaged.

The halo crashed down into the ring and ended as a pile of ice encircling Caden's feet. The Wizard grimaced.

"If that's the best you can do," Denebriel told him in an honest tone, "This will not end well for you."

"We're just getting started," the Wizard told her.

[Caden Law]

It took him a full two minutes to do it, but Teric finally fought himself awake. The first sound that greeted him was an echo of ravens crowing, and the second was the loud whump of an explosion underwater. Both things made no sense whatsoever in a vast underground library that already broke the laws of physics just by existing, but that was just one of the lesser reasons why Teric hated magic.

"RAU L'ARCANUM!"

"Falling back on words of power now?"

The awful sounds of magi Voices were another. There was something simply irreconcileable between a mage's Voice and the laws of nature. It was unnerving.

Whump and a scream. Teric eased himself up to his feet in time to see the Wizard spinning around a corner, the floor seeming to shift and twist beneath the soles of his boots just so that he wouldn't fall over. Arcane fire -- purple and pink and black, so very black -- whipped madly around him without actually touching his body, skin, clothes, anything else. For a moment, Teric didn't know whether the spell was Caden's own or Denebriel's. And then the Wizard shattered it with a thrust of his wand, and Denebriel was right in front of him from nowhere with a of solidified light twirling in her hands and a serene look on her face.

She struck.

Whatever spell triggered with the impact, it was too loud to actually hear it. The shockwave actually knocked books off of their shelves from one end of the library to the other. Teric shielded himself with an arm as it happened.

When the light faded and the sound levels dropped again, there twirled the Saint on one foot, six inches off the floor like an otherworldly ballerina. Her staff was gone. She pirouetted back to the ground, and there stood the Wizard Blueraven, covered in the same light that Denebriel had been wielding just a second before, completely frozen in place. Teric grimaced this time, drew his sword and took a running start-

Denebriel staggered him with a look and a word -- a command: "Awaken."

Staggered him. She didn't stop him.

"Awaken!"

Teric rasped for breath, struggled for control over his own limbs, and powered forward. For a few seconds, this actually amused her; but everyone knew the Saint to be fickle and furious. It didn't take long before she outstretched one glorious arm and pointed, the way that sovereign authorities do when singling out that one person whose destiny is to live on as a cautionary tale for small children. Her face contorted in fury. Her eyes glittered like tiny stars.

"AWAKEN!"

"No."

Teric thrust his newly acquired blade forward. He was too far to do anything more than nick her finger, but that was all he needed to do. Enchanted dehlar met centuries old flesh, and the metal won out. Teric drew first blood and the effect was instant: A ripple passing through the air, the shaking of earth, the musical cries of distress from the Ethereal Sway...

The suddenly manic grin on the old warrior's face.

"You bleed," he noted. "Gods. Don't. Bleed."

A tremble ran through her arm. Her jaw clenched. Her hair actually began to rise up, as if billowing on some unseen breeze or being carried by currents underwater. Denebriel stopped breathing, as if she had only been doing so to keep up trivial appearances. Rage literally sparked through the veins beneath her skin, each one visible and the Saint herself uglier for it.

"Unforg-"

The light behind her shattered, and there stood the Sorcerer, spinning from foot to foot as ground ripped up and imploded into the shape of a colossal fist, magic seeping into every last crevice from knuckle to wrist and fingertip alike. He took a backhanded swing and the fist orbited in kind, slamming into Denebriel from the side and hurling her all the way across the library. Caden willed more magic into it, until a thin layer of black glass-like material congealed over it.

"Lapis Caestus Arcana!"

And then he thrust the Arcanist Rod forward and launched the thing like a cruise missile. The explosion to follow blacklit the entire library, sending shockwaves of hot and cold, pressure and electricity in every direction. One of the Sway lurking too close was simply obliterated outright, while no fewer than four shelves were partly transmuted into black glass and collapsed into the explosion. Teric and Caden rode it out behind what cover they could find, with the Sorcerer wheezing from effort and the warrior feeling defiantly out of his depth.

Denebriel screamed.

It was not a pained scream. Just an angry one.

"Don't think this is gonna work," Teric dismally noted. "Should've brought an army with us. A group at the least."

"Little late for that now," Caden said, putting away his rod and wand. The blacklight was fading now. One of the Ethereal Sway was hovering dangerously close to them, shaking in a rage of its own. Teric prepared to cut it down, but the Wizard stopped him with the words, "Remember the spell I used in the maze."

Teric was about to ask what the Wizard meant, but he didn't get much of a chance. Caden took a running start, jumped up and had the Sway by the ankles. A second later, there was a macabre dark green light swirling around where his hands met the creature's feet, and it cried; like a violin weeping. Caden yanked it down then, slamming it to the ground and then mounting it with a hand clasped around its throat and his other trying to defend himself. The Sway struggled, hard and bitter and incomprehensible of what was happening to it -- and then it became a young woman who actually knew what was happening, and who died too quickly to do anything about it.

The Wizard stood, his own veins now standing out in blue contrast to pale skin. Denebriel was storming clear of the blast zone now. Caden drew his hands back, thrust them forward and screamed. Raw power flooded from his hands, blue and green and black all over; an energy beam made out of ethereal gallows birds. Shockwaves rattled the shelves in passing, along with a stream of feathers that rotted the wood and destroyed the paint and polish of whatever they touched.

Denebriel met the attack head-on and ate it.

A few seconds later, she stood still with her wounds -- minor as they were -- completely healed. Not a single scratch from the best and worst Caden could throw at her. Not even a drop of blood from Teric's sword. Even her clothing seemed to mend itself, and she took a moment afterwards to straighten up for no other reason than because she could.

"You're completely outclassed here," she informed the Wizard, her anger dissipating as quickly and fickly as it'd come.

"Sorry. I don't have a witty or inspiring comeback for that one," Caden admitted with a shrug. Fists clenched, the air behind him completely froze in the likeness of two massive wings; each of them collapsing to the floor and shattering in kind. The temperature in the whole study was starting to drop. "All that I can tell you-" Another deep breath, two more wings formed at different angles and again shattered to the floor. "Is that this-" Once more, they arced up this time. "Is the end for you." Wand and rod alike flew into his hands, two more wings formed, arcing clear to the ceiling and falling apart just like all the rest. Caden jumped forward and landed knee-deep in a nimbus cloud of ethereal feathers.

"One more time!"

Denebriel laughed and obliged him, though without need of a nimbus to do it. They charged one another to the very center of the room, with the Wizard launching volley after volley of spells and the Saint bashing, smashing, or outright dodging them in kind. Point blank and Caden shot straight up towards the ceiling, with Denebriel barrel rolling after him. She finally counterattacked with a spell that the Wizard had never even heard of before -- a beam of raw, unrestrained chaos and entropy, one that sanded the nimbus away at a quantum level, and would have done even worse to the man riding it.

Assuming Caden hadn't pulled a jackknife dive right off the cloud. He hurtled past her so quickly that the Saint didn't even realize it until after the fact.

Denebriel froze in place as Caden neared the floor and started to slow down, reshaping the stone to better absorb his landing-

...and there was Teric, leaping off the shelf behind her.

Enchanted dehlar passed straight through ancient flesh, muscle and bone like a hot knife through butter. Denebriel screamed and bled the way that no true godly being ever should, while the mercenary crashed into another shelf and succeeded in causing a domino effect: He didn't have magic to slow his fall, so Teric resorted to massive property damage instead. Roughly half of the sanctum arcanum was obliterated by the time he made it to the floor.

"Nicely done," Caden said after scraping himself up.

"I try," Teric replied with a shrug.

Denebriel finally lost control of herself and collapsed a few seconds later, toppling from near the ceiling to the floor just a few yards away. Her severed arm had, by that point, decayed completely. The stains from her blood were congealing far too quickly for anything normal or natural.

"It's done, by the way," Teric added.

"Excellent," Caden said, pointing his rod and asking, "Did you hear what the gentleman mercenary had to say, little Saint? It's over for y-" Caden ducked. The air above him blurred and the wall several hundred feet back imploded in the shape of a handprint the size of a small carriage.

"It's not over," Denebriel warbled, her Voice breaking for the first time in civilized memory. She looked exhausted now. Beaten. The stump of her arm was already rotting with age. "M-my pendant...my pendant!"

A pile of rubble on the far side of the room exploded. For a split second, there was a crude iron pendant hanging in mid-air, a black stone glistening at its center. Then it rocketed towards the Saint's outstretched hand...

...and Teric impaled the thing straight out of mid-air. Power erupted away from the tip of his magicide blade, disintegrating several tones of fallen wood with no kickback or sound whatsoever. The old warrior looked back at the fallen Saint and said again, "It's over. Wizard?"

"Don't mind if I do," Caden said crossing his rod and wand, and then reaching out with his senses. A split second later, Teric's crude copy of Caden's severance spell -- a much, much larger version of the magic Caden had used to cut Denebriel's power flow off earlier -- lit up on every wall and several parts of the floor. The spell's shape was off, but the lines were deep and sturdy, and the intent behind them was solid and focused. It didn't take a lot of effort.

Almost as soon as the spell was triggered, the power literally blinked out of the room. It went from being the highest magic environment Caden had ever seen to being desolation incarnate. The lights all flickered, and a few only stayed on because they had their own power supplies. Only the Sway remained, all of them glittering high and in total shock at the defeat of their mistress. Gods aren't supposed to fall. This one did. And all she could think to say, as she fell over in a pool of her own congealing blood, was a choked "How?"

"Want the honors?" Caden asked.

"I couldn't explain this shit if you paid me," Teric answered, brutally honest to a fault at this point.

Caden shrugged then told her, "Cutting you off from your intake earlier was just the beginning. No more power means that no matter how much energy you've got stored up in this place, or anywhere in these catacombs, it's still finite. Once we got here, I just focused on burning off as much excess energy as I could," and here, Caden actually wiped cold sweat from his brow. He had never thrown around that much heavy-duty magic for a prolonged period of time. It showed. "Not only did it keep you distracted, but it forced you to draw more on your own reserves to keep from being harmed. And while you were distracted and we were blowing through as much energy as we could, Teric carved in the same spell I used earlier -- except bigger. Big enough to cover this whole sanctuary and nullify most of the power left in it after we'd had our little throwdown."

By this point, Denebriel's eyes were starting to lose their lustre. She was breathing again, and not at all well.

"You lose," Caden told her. "To a vagabond hillbilly, a guy who didn't even know what he was doing, and someone who wasn't even here. It didn't take an army to stop you. All it took was-"

"Idiot," Denebriel rasped, her blood suddenly rising up in a great scabby, barely opaque wall between the Saint and her killers. Teric spat obscenities, Caden remained calm, and the Sway suddenly began to spiral overhead.

"Oh," said the Wizard. "Oh. Shit."

"What?" Teric asked. "What?"

"Break the wall. Kill the Sway. It's been nice."

Teric knew better than to ask questions by now. He sundered the wall to bits with one good swing, but by then the first Sway had dropped. In mortal life, it was probably a man. In this existence, it was nothing more than a snack, compressing itself to fit in the Saint's mouth and vanishing down her throat as a glow that burned bright through her skin and clothes. Caden wasted not time in diving in, forgetting his rod and wand as he went. Teric followed suit, cleaving the next Sway in two and reducing it to a spray of glittering gore that evaporated before it could hit the floor.

Caden jumped onto the Saint, hands to her throat, and green light darkened gold but she laughed anyway. Another Sway made it through, even as Teric cut down the one accompanying it. The Sway lurched around Caden's head and neck, dove into Denebriel's mouth and glew down into her belly. The stump exploded open and a brand new arm, coated in pinkish-red blood, shot out of it, arced up and took the Wizard by the neck, drawing him down to eye level as another Sway dove into her mouth and disappeared.

"It's not over. Does the Truth hurt, Wizard?" she asked with a grin.

"That power is useless against me," Spoke the Wizard Blueraven, who had endured the trials of Icehenge seven times, and conquered every single one of them; who had seen the worst possible future, and who had resolved to stop it by any means necessary. As horrible as Denebriel's Gripping Truths could be, they were nothing compared to the things that Blueraven had already been through. There was literally nothing left for her to throw at him.

So Caden's grasp remained strong, and even as Denebriel devoured her own Ethereal Sway, the Wizard Blueraven used his own powers to absorb energy from them; to diminish whatever gains she made; to keep her a Saint Sorcerer instead of a true demigod. By the time it was all said and done, the Wizard was wreathed in putrid dark green light, and the air around him positively stank of corpse blossoms and carrion birds. The Saint beneath him wasn't phased by it in the slightest.

"Get off of me," she Said, throwing him away like so much refuse. The Wizard went skidding across what little clean floor remained, all the way to the far side of the room, but he did not die. He wasn't even any worse for wear, aside from what you'd expect of a ninety foot skid on polished marble.

Teric struck then, and something funny happened.

Denebriel dodged it.

Admittedly, she did so by sliding gracefully between his legs, backflipping to her feet and taking several dainty steps away, but Denebriel still dodged an attack that wouldn't have even killed her. She held out her hands, and swords erupted from the wreckage; a Raiaeran saber and a Haidian torchblade, and the Saint held them like she knew how to use them.

A lesser man might've been perplexed at having to match blades with an ancient conqueror. As Denebriel veiled herself in an aura of Sorcerous might, Teric just grinned and crossed his saber and blade. A few seconds later, the battle was joined.

[Rayse Valentino]

"What?" asked Tyray. "No witty retorts? It amuses me to no end to see you so thoroughly thrashed."

Rayse's arms shook as he tried to pull his legs up. His muscles felt like they were about to fall out as he stood up, his hands grasping his chest in pain. Hunched over, he dug his fingers into his skin, but bit his lip to divert the pain and straightened up his posture. Tyray would make a pretty good torturer.

"You know," Rayse said between breaths. "All this toying around with me is doing you no good, old man. By now, Denebriel's powerless and getting her ancient ass kicked."

Tyray shook his head, "Is that what you think? What do you think I've been fighting you with this whole time, eh? It's The Sway! Created by Denebriel before her exile, and built up to what it is today through generations! All her lieutenants have access to its limitless potential."

Rayse couldn't believe it. Even though Caden mentioned it earlier, his explanation didn't make any sense. After all, how could you eat souls? That was just stupid.

Tyray continued, "You want to know why I didn't kill you before? I wanted you to bring someone to seal off Denebriel's connection to the Eternal Tap! While she's been missing all this time, I have been right here in Knife's Edge, honing the power of The Sway and making it my own. Now that you've sapped her of her main source of power, I am far more powerful. Once I've taken care of you, Denebriel, and your friends, I will proceed to take control of Salvar myself!"

As the tattoos faded, Rayse felt sharp pains all over his body. Yet, there were unusual pains. They were even coming from places that hadn't been bruised or cut by the wind. Every time his tattoos pulsed in and out of existence, he felt it. Maybe he wasn't running out of power after all, maybe there was something else going on.

"I can't believe how well this has worked! Centuries of waiting, wondering how I could possibly usurp her, and you come along and do it everything for me! It's been hard to contain myself until now! Hahahahaha!!"

Something clicked in Rayse's head, and then he turned back to Tyray and gave him one of the most confident grins of his life.

"Yes, I get it. You're some sort of super genius that's going to rule us all. That's great. Now shutup."

The tattoos disappeared fully from his body, but he caught fire again. The fire burned hotter and hotter, turning from yellow to orange to blue and finally... white. Engulfed in a semi-transparent white fire, he saw his wounds disappearing. Filled with a new adrenaline, he felt positively invigorated.

Tyray was interrupted from his cackling by the new development, "Hahaha! Ha... Hmm, what's this? Is this a new trick? White fire?"

Rayse pointed his right index finger at Tyray again. It was a familiar gesture, but the moment he did it a white-hot beam of fire shot out from his finger. The next moment, there was a huge explosion of volcanic smoke and ash. Tyray appeared on the other side of the room, his hand on his heart. He... he almost didn't make it in time! How did Rayse's attacks get so fast? Why couldn't he extinguish the flame before it reached him?

"What's going on here?!" Tyray demanded.

"Oh, it's simple," Rayse replied. "I simply took what was left of my excess power and turned it into this fire. The flame that surrounds me is the last card in my deck."

Tyray was jovial again, "Hahaha! So you've given up! Once I extinguish that flame, you'll be helpless! Well, I must say it was entertaining, but I have a kingdom to conquer." With both palms pointed at Rayse, Stefan let loose one of his strongest winds yet, surrounding Rayse and piercing through his flames but not hitting him. After a few seconds of this, Tyray's mood was broken once again. "W-why? I sucked out all the air from around you! What is that flame feeding off of if not air?!"

Rayse smiled, "Simple. It's feeding off my ambition."

Tyray was flabbergasted. How could that make any sense? Whatever, it didn't have to! All he had to do was take him out and be done with it. Clearly he needed more power to douse that fire, and he had plenty of it with The Sway. In a manner similar to Denebriel, he summoned the wispy, almost transparent souls of the dead and consumed them whole, creating a spiral of Ethereal Sway that went into his body.

The resulting chaos filled the room with fiery cyclones and burning winds that threatened to devour everything in sight. Tyray could barely keep the flames at bay. All of his own attacks were backfiring on him. Every now and then, Rayse would pierce the canopy of wind and try to land a punch in on Tyray, but he was always just barely evaded. After every attempt, however, he would throw down one of his Damascus daggers down on the spot he landed on. However, while Tyray's supply of power was nearly infinite, Rayse did not have that luxury. Eventually, even this flame was starting to go out. It didn't matter though, because his plans were already in motion.

"Your flame is sputtering," Tyray noted confidently. "You made this quite a challenge, and for that I thank you. I bid you farewell!"

Putting his hands together, he channeled the power of the ethereal spirits into his being. Anyone who got near him for more than a second would be vaporized, but a second was all that Rayse needed. Disappearing from his spot and reappearing in front of Tyray, Rayse snapped his fingers and below him a flame moved along the ground in several lines. From dagger to dagger, these lines formed the shape of a star around Denebriel's would-be usurper. When he threw those weapons earlier, he was actually forming that shape with some thin spidersilk attaching them end to end. When he said it took him all his thread to wrap up the sword, he was lying.

Suddenly, Rayse's fire turned into an enormous upward beam of light, completely engulfing the room and piercing the ceiling above them. After all, the strings amplified any magic that came in contact with them and the shape allowed an upward momentum of said magic. With Rayse at the apex, this was his most powerful attack yet. For how old Tyray was, he sure was arrogant. Thousands of years without a challenge and a feeling of superiority over the world only helped to fuel his ego. His greatest mistake was not thinking that Rayse would use the same tricks he used before with his brief burst of power. Only someone with everything handed to them would think they could win just through sheer force. That was the difference between them. It was why Rayse hated the nobles. It was why he left his noble family to build who he was from the ground up.

"Do you feel it now, Tyray?! This. Is. My. Ambition!"

Rayse, engulfed in the beam itself but able to withstand its heat, could see Tyray's form chipping away until there was nothing left. The white beam of light tore through the ceiling, reaching into the street in Knife's Edge above. The beam continued into the sky. When it stopped, Rayse's white fire was gone and he was standing in a crater where Tyray had been. Wiping the sweat from his face with his shirt, Rayse felt like he was just in an oven. Was he back to normal? It sure seemed like it. Before he could celebrate, however, there was one more task to be done. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the golden compass. Moving it around a bit, the arrow was pointing towards a section of the wall. It's about time to make my flashy entrance.

After gathering up his equipment, he walked to the end of the room, opposite from where the arrow was pointing, and broke into a run following the arrow. After concentrating for a moment, he threw out a punch and disappeared into flames.

The next thing he knew, his elbow had connected with Denebriel's face, and she was sent flying across her spellchamber. Rayse landed and pocketed the watch, looking about the mess created by his colleagues.

Grinning, he looked at the exhausted Caden Law and said, "Can't you two do anything without me?"

[Bloodrose]

Teric couldn't even begin to comprehend half of the things he'd been witness to since setting foot in Denebriel's private quarters. So powerful and so otherworldly were the powers that Wizard and Saint wrought as they dueled, that Teric had long ago given up on being afraid. Truly, magic in general was the grizzled war veteran's single phobia, but the energies being slung around by ally and enemy alike were of such a caliber that it didn't even make sense to fear them. What point could be served by cowering in a corner in hopes of avoiding harm when one wrong look from either magus could melt flesh from bone and leave a man as little more than a darkened stain on the ivory floor.

Given the circumstance, it didn't make much sense being afraid.

Up until this point, Caden's constant barrage of energies both his own and those stolen from the dying corpses of the pitiful Sway had been the only thing keeping Teric alive; or at least insofar as the mercenary could tell. With her full attention constantly focused on the greater perceived threat, Teric had been able to contribute to the battle-effort in a support capacity, doing what he could to help despite being well out of his element. Whenever the wizard Blueraven slipped - a failed spell here, being frozen there - the veteran was there to distract Denebriel just long enough for Caden to recover. The magicide blade he wielded at this point was a boon, and probably the single greatest weapon Teric had ever come across in his entire life. Whenever the Saint did deign to throw a spell in his direction, Teric simply killed the magic in flight with the enchanted dehlar blade. The stupendous instrument of magic's destruction had even allowed the mercenary to inflict the only real physical damage either man had done thus far - although a lot of good that had done them...

"Vermin!" Denebriel hissed, all facsimile of calm irreverence gone at this point. She rose up from the floor, eyeing Rayse - the relative newcomer to the battle - dangerously. The Saint was visibly pissed off, and who could really blame her, considering the situation. In the last few moments, a young wizard and an old man had caused her more harm than she had likely sustained in generations, and the slow realization that these two foes would not die easily was wearing heavily on the demi-god's composure. The appearance of a third foe only made the flagging matriarch’s situation all the more dire.

I suppose I should be glad she's insulting us like a child. Teric contemplated as he rushed the Saint, choosing to engage her for a change, rather than wait for her to make the first move. She wouldn't have even bothered with such petty words before...

The echoes of clashing metal sang throughout the sanctum as duel-wielding titans met in a whirlwind of steel. Cuts, thrusts, and parries flew at an alarming pace as both combatants used their preternatural speed to try and outclass the other, but it became apparent very quickly that Denebriel was quicker. Glimmering with an aura that simply oozed power, the Saint moved in ways that made the human eye question what it was seeing. Her arms less moved and more teleported as they brought her blades to bear.

Speed however, was about the only advantage the Saint enjoyed.

The Haidian torchblade, enchanted to be constantly alight with flame, did not fare well against the countering touch of the magicide blade Teric wielded with great delight. The first time the mercenary countered flame-steel with magic-deadening dehlar, the bright orange flames flicked and went out for a moment before rushing back to life like a candle to long deprived of fresh oxygen. The second time those two blades met, the flame died a little more, and the third clash snapped the torchblade in half as its enchantment was extinguished completely.

Down a weapon, Denebriel's speed allowed her to avoid the unpleasant touch of the magicide blade (which she gave a wide berth), but not counter in any way that gave her a meaningful offense.

And then there was Caden.

Teric mistakenly tripped over a loose piece of rubble on the floor, and for an instant it looked as if his slip might spell the end, but the winded wizard was not long in rejoining the battle. As Teric fell, a great pillar of green, blue, and black energies ruptured from the floor; an ethereal geyser fueled by what energies Blueraven had siphoned off from the souls Denebriel had devoured to rebuild herself. The dread fountain of necromantic energy filled the air around it with a corrosive, sulphuric odor that registered somewhere between a volcano and an open grave. Caught in the brunt of it, Denebriel screeched and reared away as quickly as she could manage; only not quick enough. The ripples of black that whipped amongst the green and blue magic tore at the Saint like razor blades, flaying her flesh raw. By the time she half-retreated, half-stumbled out of the geyser, the once beautiful demi-god had the complexion of a ruptured blood sausage.

"You'll die slo-" The demi-god almost managed to finish her threat before a body of flame slammed into her flank, landing a brutal, fiery elbow to the matriarch's already bloodied face. Denebriel flew like a ragdoll into a smoldering, magic-charred stack of shelves and disappeared under a pile of rubble as the contents of the shelves rained down atop her.

"I think the wizard and I have done plenty." Teric remarked snidely to his young, impulse driven nephew. While he wanted to wonder just what had kept Rayse for so long while he and Caden had been battling giant immortal guardians and lethal demi-gods, Teric had to admit he was glad to see the flashy contractor. Despite their apparently growing advantage, the mercenary wasn't about to count Denebriel out just yet. A third body would be useful in making sure they put the wannabe goddess in the ground for good.

"I think we'll just back and let you wrap things up from here." Teric flashed his blood a coy smile.

[Rayse Valentino]

I'm leaving the whole dream sequence out of this thread. I thought about it and a) it would take too long and b) the content could easily be enough for an entire thread of its own. For the sake of finishing before the deadline, we're ignoring the content of the dreams.

The room looked like some kind of wrecked magical library, with various furniture and paper floating in mid-air as chaotic magical energies swirled about. The whole place looked like it was coming apart like someone poured a vat of the craziest magics in here. Caden himself sported a new green aura and he had the look of someone trying to tame a beast. While Teric was running around all willy-nilly in this dangerous room Caden must've been holding it together, keeping all sorts of mystical harm from come to them. Tyray's words about Caden seemed more real, but for now the wizard was an ally, and that was good enough for him.

Rayse had apparently interrupted the festivities, as he found Teric staring at him with anticipation.

The Contractor was incredulous at the request, "Wrap things up? What am I, a decorator?" It occurred to him that he had, in fact, hit a woman just now. Generally, he was quite chivalrous and tried to avoid such unmanly actions, but he figured that Denebriel stopped being a lady a long time ago. However, it seems that his actions today had given off the wrong impression to Teric: namely, that he liked to go off and take care of nuisances himself. He didn't; he would much rather let someone else handle the dirty work, but circumstances prevented him from staying too close to the others. However, it would be even more suspicious if he did anything but comply now.

After all, how hard could it be? It looked like they already beat her down to an inch of her life. A final boot to the face and it'll all be over, right?

"I'll do it, but don't make a habit out of making me clean up after old men."

It seemed eerily quiet for a moment, but slowly Denebriel rose up from the debris. She looked like someone that had fallen into a river filled with dirt and blood. Her contemptuous glare was only slightly less sinister than her new, somewhat calmed demeanor. She didn't attack immediately, but instead seemed to be in deep thought.

For the longest time, Denebriel had used the abilities that likened her to a goddess. Before she was a Forgotten One, she was merely a sorceress that managed to reach into The Eternal Tap and draw out as much power as she needed. Since then, she saw no need to use the costly, often life-threatening magics that got her to The Tap. However, it became apparent that despite her amazing abilities and control over her own creation, The Ethereal Sway, Denebriel The Forgotten One could not win against these miscreants.

On the other side of the room, Rayse seemed relieved by her appearance. She hardly looked female at all anymore, which made hitting her a lot easier on his mind. Despite having all his weapons from the previous room, he reached down, pulled up his left pant leg, and pulled out his trusty knife, Kapteyn, strapped to his leg. Since he was back to his normal self, he should fight the way he pleased. Caden nodded at Rayse, implying that he would take care of any magical tricks Denebriel might try, and The Contractor charged out at the would-be goddess.

She only had her Raiaeran saber now, but it was enough to deflect Rayse's knife over and over again. It was clear that she was much faster than him, but she hesitated in counter-attacking. Caden watched intently, trying to figure out why she wasn't trying anything tricky. Suddenly, she attempted to stab Rayse but it the blade passed right through him, and he used the opportunity to run his blade across her neck as he jumped backwards and allowed the part of his body that turned to fire to avoid the blade solidify. Denebriel held her neck as blood poured out, coughing for a few moments before apparently mending it back to normal. Rayse was having a much easier time than anticipated.

In the times of The Tap, it was hard to survive without strong a strong will. In a world where either you were a magician of The Tap or the slave of one, many tried to find alternative means to fight back. Denebriel the sorceress had a tumultuous history as a slave to a powerful Tap-user. Only by mastering the most forbidden of magical arts could she ever hope to overcome her circumstances. She took great strides to destroy the person she once was, as did all of the other Forgotten Ones, but she in particular knew of the severity of her knowledge. Even the Thaynes would hunt her down if they knew of what she was capable. In fact, that was the primary reason her previous arts were abandoned. The Eternal Tap, The Ethereal Sway, and her own wizardly were mere substitutes.

Although, now feeling that her life was truly threatened, she was left with no other choice. If the Gods themselves saw fit to pursue her after this, then so it shall be. She readied her saber, putting Rayse on the alert for some sort of enraged attack, but instead she cut across her wrist, letting blood spray out into the air. The blood spun around like a whirlpool in the air, tainting the very air and turning it red. Rayse backed up a bit at this development. He thought she had gone completely off the deep end.

Caden, however, had a different perception of the incident. At first glance, it looked like some sort of blood magic. If it was, it would be an odd choice this late in the game. Blood magic was a forbidden art in most, if not all, magical schools of thought, as it bypassed conventional magical defenses to control minds and used the user's own life force as a catalyst. It was a much weaker art, however, to the likes of The Eternal Tap and even The Sway. Even if he was nullifying her main sources of power, they were still far more effective than blood magic, or so he thought.

Rayse was getting sick of the show and disappeared into flames, reappearing right in front of Denebriel and plunging his knife into her heart. He jumped back immediately afterward, pulling it out and wiping the blood off on one of the magical book pages floating around nearby. However, it didn't seem to cause her any pain. From the wound flowed out blood, but it too entered the air and dispersed, slowly painting the entire room scarlet. Rayse blinked for a moment and during the time he was blinking, Denebriel slammed the remnants of a shelf into him and sent him flying back at the other two. He landed on his back, but quickly recomposed himself. Something that fast reminded him of Tyray, but without his extra power he couldn't dodge in time. He hoped that this was enough to convince Teric that he wasn't stronger than the mercenary.

"Watch it," Caden warned. "Don't play around with this. Let me deal with it."

He looked at the other two for some sort of response but there was none. The were standing completely still, which didn't seem so strange given that Caden was behind them, but as he walked up in front of them, he was shocked to notice a blank look in their eyes.

He waved his hands in front of them, "Hey! Anyone home?! ...Great."

He looked back at Denebriel, whose eyes were glowing bright red and her body covered in thick streams of glowing blood. He sensed a disturbance in the air around him, and it was like nothing he had ever felt before. The mere pressure would've choked him if he wasn't surrounded by a protective aura. He was alarmed by how it penetrated the minds of the other two so fast, and without his notice. He had never seen this kind of blood magic before.

Denebriel's voice was not godly, nor was it demented like in her anger. It was now something insidious; a deep seductive, yet demonic speech, "Many an age was spent covering this up. Eons of being forgotten... all for nothing."

Despite all his efforts, Caden could not dispel the entranced conditions of his allies. A magic that could not be detected, could not be affected... he thought something like this didn't exist. If it could get past him... then he realized why she hadn't used this type of magic until now.

"The Thaynes... this magic would work on them, wouldn't it?"

Denebriel ran her hands over her body, little sparks following her fingertips, "Mmm... you are boring me, mortal."

This spell in particular was one that exploited ties between people. Since Teric and Rayse were related, their shared consciousness was the target of her spell. It was an insidious spell that threatened time itself, for it changed the personal histories of those involved. After all, people are defined by how they're brought up, so changing their histories would change them. If the drastic change to their past changes how they turn out in life, then it becomes permanent and they cease to exist in this timeline. Usually, this was an instant spell since it existed outside of the scope of time, but she was rusty and thus there was a still a small chance that they could break out of the trance. However, until then one thing was clear.

Caden Law had to stop her by himself, while at the same time protecting the other two. This battle was far from over.

[Caden Law]

"Any last words?" Denebriel asked, fickle enough to gloat even this late in the game. It was a weakness. It was time. It was the only advantage Caden had left, as he was still struggling to try and contain the raw necromantic energies he'd taken from her earlier.

It was like eating a mouthful of nuclear peppermint while buried in arctic snow as a volcano erupted about one inch behind your bellybutton. He felt fevered, frantic, furious and at the same time, calm, detached, almost zen in his focus. Even as thousands of ancient souls clawed at the edges of his sanity, Wizard's reason held strong. Presumably because you're already insane if you're wearing a hat like that.

"Yes," Caden rasped with a Voice that was all lightning and icy echoes. The whites of his eyes were turning a wretched purple and green, and the aura surrounding him was finally starting to resemble the bird motif that had shown in his magic since Icehenge. "Why didn't you hit me with whatever spell you just used?" he asked.

Denebriel grinned. Prior to the battle, it would've been a stunning expression. Now, with all the blood and violence of the past minutes or hours or however long the fighting had raged, it was just a little bit horrifying. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Here, Caden learned a valuable lesson: Never rely on the fickleness of a woman. You don't know -- women don't even know -- when their mood might change.

Denebriel raised a hand, snapped her fingers, and sent a fireball right at Caden's face. By the half-way mark, it more resembled a flaming violet skull with green teeth and yellow stars blazing where its eyes should've been. Battered as he was, Caden still counterspelled, manipulating necromancy as he would any barebone arcana and getting roughly similar results: The fireball imploded at its nose just a few feet shy of its intended target. Denebriel's grin became a sneer. "I think I'm going to eat your soul after all the trouble you've caused me, Wizard."

To which Caden naturally replied, "Better than you have tried, witch."

Energy is energy.

Denebriel snapped her fingers again, both hands this time, and sent four of those same fireballs hurtling at him. Caden twisted all that necromantic power into geomancy, throwing the floor up into the flame's path. His barrier was annihilated in short order, but the fires never touched him. Denebriel tried it again and Caden didn't even have to use a solid wall; he just sent spikes right up into each spell and detonated them from below.

"You're starting to annoy me," the Saint muttered, holding out a hand.

"Then do something about it," Caden replied with a fierce little grin. The veins were standing out all over him now. He looked pallid, sick. Awful.

Another sword erupted out of the rubble on the far side of the library. It tumbled end over end, finally crashing to a stop in the Saint's sanguine hand. Coronian arming sword, by the look of it. Masterwork weapon, pristine condition, probably worth more than Caden would see in his lifetime. It was also a pointed reminder of the fact that Denebriel was running low on power by now, and a hint that maybe...

"...your blood magic doesn't work on me."

Denebriel sneered again.

"Your spell, the one you used on Teric and Rayse doesn't work on me."

"It's a Causal Working," Denebriel Said. "Retroactively affecting Time."

"Do you have any idea how stupid that is? How many paradoxes that could cause?"

"Says the timetraveller," Denebriel replied. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Wizard. I could smell it on you the moment you set foot in Salvar. It's almost as pungent as the scent of Thaynes at play. Unfortunately, it also means that you can't be erased or rewritten like your companions. Don't worry though, it just means I'll have to kill you the old fashioned way."

And when Denebriel said old fashioned, she meant it. The Saint lunged forward, drawing on her reserves to cover the distance, and Caden barely avoided having his heart skewered. He drew his sword in kind, but it was almost a moot point. Caden was an above average swordsman, but he wasn't anywhere in Teric's league and there was no chance he'd ever be able to vy with someone like Denebriel. It was all he could do to keep from being vivisected every three steps; he gave ground not because it was strategic, but because he had no alternative.

"Look on the bright side, Wizard Law!" Denebriel laughed as she drove him back, away from the blank-eyed Teric and Rayse. "At least history will remember you, even if it's only as a propaganda piece!"

Clang. She nicked his cheek. His neck severing. Clang. She slit his collar. His head on a pike atop church doors. Clang. A cut to his hand. His family being hunted down. Clang. A cut above the eye. Evernorth burning. Clang. The leg. It was over. Clang. Beneath the eye. It was-

"THAT DOESN'T WORK ON ME!" the Sorcerer raged, his Scream literally shaking the entire room as he threw down the sword and ducked Denebriel's blade. Power erupted out of him like a blast furnace and Denebriel leapt back, twisting like a ballerina and slowing her fall to a graceful landing on the tips of her toes.

"Saw through it, eh?" Denebriel asked, holding her sword as if it were a dainty little thing -- as if she were a dainty little thing. "Truth can be slow, creeping in-"

"Stop talking wench," the Sorcerer spat, and his aura changed with his Voice. Mingling with the purple-green were blue feathers now, and the aura had finally taken a shape not unlike a great bird -- a colossal raven. Denebriel just smiled.

"Careful, little Wizard-Sorcerer. Your body and spirit are at their limits. You've not had the time to recover properly, and even if you did..." She shrugged, though her blade was now wreathed in a crimson fog; bloody vapors, cold to the touch.

"I know a God who owes me a favor," Caden replied, and the aura changed. The wings became limbs, the beaked head became a vaguely human one in a tall, pointed hat with a wide brim.

Denebriel went slack-jawed.

"Any last words?" the Sorcerer asked, grinning like an absolute maniac.

"Yes, actually."

"TOO BAD!"

Caden reached out and the aura-self reached with him, its arm stretching until it neared Denebriel. The fingertips burst open to reveal claws -- translucent claws, like those of a bird. The Saint dodged away, and Caden stalked after her, his other hand reaching out and warping into a dome around Teric and Rayse. Denebriel conjured up a nimbus of her own, no longer able to simply fly in spite of gravity, and tried to escape.

She tried to escape.

The living god that Caden had spent his life worshipping, praising, cursing and sometimes praying to, was running from him.

Wizards live for the rush of adrenaline that comes with power over something; over nature, over other people, even over themselves. Sorcerers do too. But this was on a level that Caden didn't have words to describe.

He reached out once more, grabbed Denebriel and slammed her to the ceiling and the ground. Shockwaves rippled through the air and dust and rubble at each impact, and as he dragged her up and began to drag the Sorcereress -- his old Goddess -- along the walls, carving trenches into them face-first, the Sorcerer Spoke again. He called out to a new god.

A god that owed him one.

"I CLAIM THE BOON OF THE WILD QUEEN, Y'EDDA! LET US ALL SURVIVE THIS!"

There was a thin, light blue aura shimmering around them all then, as Caden hauled Denebriel to the middle of the room and clasped his mortal hands together. Their Sorcerous counterparts did the same. And then, with one last Scream that lit the whole room blue, purple and green, Caden shunted all of his power -- Wizard, Sorcerous, necromantic and otherwise -- into a sphere around Denebriel. His last words were simply, "Siege Arcana."

The power turned black, its details lined with red until it looked like a glowing ball of obsidian feathers.

It collapsed to the size of a marble, Denebriel still inside.

And then it exploded.

The shockwave scythed straight through the walls, straight through every one of the spells binding Denebriel's catacombs to the pocket dimension that kept them from overflowing into the sewers and the streets and the church above. The chain reaction caused a spacial paradox that erased the sewers beneath the church, caused the streets to explode upward and brought the building itself tumbling down. Here is where the miracle happened.

For all the tons of debris, for all the broken glass, the magical violence, nobody died. Against odds that were literally incalculable, there wasn't a single fatality due to the church's collapse, the catacombs' eruption, or the exploding streets that came with both.

And when it was all over -- when the dust settled and the sky overhead revealed crisp, clear daylight -- all that remained of Saint Denebriel's Cathedral was a great ring of debris settled on the pristine marble floor. Twenty feet high, plenty of gaps, plenty of survivors wondering what in the hell just happened and why they now had a bird's eye view to the scene playing out at its center.

There stood a Wizard, ragged and slack-jawed with exhaustion. A Conscript's Sword stood just in front of him, its tip stabbed into the ground. There was an old man, and a young man, both standing near him; perhaps in a daze, perhaps not. There was a woman -- maybe it was a woman -- standing in the air behind all of them. A huge woman, stunning and beautiful, ethereal and truly divine. A woman wearing a cloak of golden wings, each one studded with tiny stars plucked right out of the night sky. Her arms were crossed, and she was smiling.

Well played, for the most part, she Said, and there wasn't a soul in the city who didn't hear it. But this was not the proper hour, and your wording was imprecise.

Which is why, as Caden collapsed to lean against his sword, Denebriel appeared again. She literally clawed her way out of a pinhole-sized point in mid-air, screaming in a Voice like daemon hags and worse. She collapsed to the ground as well, falling with none of her grace or beauty, landing as an ugly, flayed, mutilated thing without hair or skin or clothing of any sort. She didn't even leave behind blood stains at this point, and it was only through sheer, awful force of will that the Saint was able to call up more power now. Enough to replace her skin, to grow new hair, and to conjure up shredded clothing for what little modesty a self-professed god feels like having.

She stood up like a drunk, which is to say that she fell to her feet and only stayed upright with her hands on her knees.

And then she laughed. Bolting upright, the Saint of Salvar laughed.

"Well done!" she called to the Wizard, clapping with clumsy, exhausted enthusiasm. "You almost had me! I don't think I've been that close to death since dear old Podë thought he could take me head-on with an army at his back!"

A deep, huffing breath stilled her laughter. Denebriel wrung her hands. "But...I would say that this is the end for you. Good-bye, Wizard. Know that you have, if nothing else, earned my-"

Someone threw a half-brick at her. It missed, but that wasn't the point.

"What's all this then?" Denebriel spat, looking sharply at the little boy who threw it. "Go back to your prayers immediately, lest I flay the soul from your body."

"Don't," Caden rasped. "Don't! She's not a God! She's not even a freaking demigod, let alone a Saint."

"You shut up!"

"She's just a witch," Caden said. "Just like all the people she's had burned at the stake. Denebriel is a witch."

"Shut up!" No longer deprived of outside energies by the null magic array, Denebriel practically inhaled power from the air around her. It was a very flashy display, very impressive, but still terrifically mortal -- and risky, since magic was basically the only thing keeping her alive now. "Shut up!"

"Rayse. Teric." Caden grinned. "Kill this bitch."

[Rayse Valentino]

As Caden said those words, the silhouettes of Rayse and Teric phased in front of him and a loud cracking sound was heard. After just a moment, both of them had switched placed in relation to Caden, but they were all the way behind Denebriel, forming a triangle with her. Their eyes were shadowed, their bodies still as they held their blades out after striking her. Caden had seen this move before, but it was only performed by one person: The Flash Step. With two of them, the effect was gruesome.

Hundreds of fiery patterned cuts exploded all over Denebriel's body, Rayse's cuts matching Teric's to form crosses everywhere. With all the magic rushing into her body during this, the fire mixed with the magic and in a sense, ignited it, reaching way up into the sky and lighting it up for a moment. When it was all over, a statute of Denebriel fell forward from the inferno and crumbled to dust on impact. All of that magic she was absorbing became her tomb.

The intensity of the attack left Rayse's body in shock. All of his bones felt like they were going to burst out his body. He had honestly no idea what he had just done. He felt compelled, like his instincts took over. The blade of his knife changed as well; It was now pure magicide. How Teric had managed to do stuff like this lately perplexed him. There was no way he was this good in his younger days. For all the alleged hate Teric spewed out about magi, his own abilities seemed magical in itself. The fact Rayse could even come close to matching him spoke volumes about his own potential as well. He was starting to think they weren't human, or that something was up with his ancestry.

Regardless, he finally got out of that dream. It felt like days in there, but it only confirmed his resolution. Denebriel could change their history, in a way she could predict their future, but this time she was wrong. Who he was, who he grew up to be... these things were inevitable. Changing his past didn't stop him from becoming the man he wanted to be the moment he could think clearly. It had no effect on Teric, either, although Rayse wondered if they saw the same thing.

His body had finally relaxed from the attack and he walked over to Denebriel, taking a good look around the place. It looked like a huge bomb had gone off here, with church debris and upturned streets everywhere.

A small glass eye rolled out of the pile of dust that was once Denebriel and stopped at Rayse's shoe. He picked it up and could... see something inside. It was hard to tell, but it looked like his little group was back at his old apartment, enjoying some drinks. He passed it off as some side-effect of stress.

It occurred to Rayse that congratulations would have to wait, as they were apparently not only above ground, but in danger of being exposed. The last thing he wanted was to become a target for anyone who wanted to test their mettle against an alleged God-slayer.

"No time to chat," he said, taking the compass out of his pocket. He had just enough juice left to get all of them somewhere. Gathering them all together quickly, he looked to where the compass pointed, and they were all engulfed in a sphere of fire and disappeared.

The fires disappeared as Rayse found himself back in his old apartment. Apparently, it was still intact under all that rubble. Although, the watch pointed him here, and he saw himself here in the glass eye. He looked into it once more and still saw himself drinking, but the bottle was half-empty now. Was this eye some sort of remnant of Denebriel that could see into the short-term future? He decided not to tell the others about it.

Although, the watch was missing. He was holding it, and now it was gone. Did it finally give way and disintegrate? Maybe it was still left back at the remains of the church. Either way, he was done with it. He didn't need some little watch to dictate his fate.

"Teric's been here before, but Caden, this is my place. It's under that rubble we were standing on at the start of this. There's something I kept here for special occasions."

He walked over to a small cabinet and took out two wine bottles with dated elven markings on them. Normally, wine only aged to a certain extent before it became vinegar, but these had special enchantments on them to make them last thousands of years. Popping them open without regret, he poured some into three glasses and set them on his table.

Picking one up, he said, "Gentlemen, what we did today was nothing short of impossible. However, this is our reticent glory. History damn well better not remember us for it, because I want to be known for better things." He raised his glass. "For becoming the best damn Mob Boss in all of Salvar-- no, the world!"

[Caden Law]

It all happened too fast. Caden gave the word and his childhood idol -- one that he'd very rarely allowed himself to actually believe in -- died. It wasn't particularly messy, so much as it was loud and ironic and, in a hauntingly nightmarish kind of way, artistic. Denebriel spent several seconds just standing there, trying to hold herself together on sheer force of will while sucking in power to help sustain the effort. The cuts formed black lines through her skin first, and her clothing fell away in squared patches at the same time. Then they started to glow, like cigaratte flames dragging in tiny fire-lines across her body. It snowed all around her, all around the whole razed battlefield.

And then she went up like one of the Saint's Pyres burnt in effigy back in Evernorth. It happened in a dozen flashing, spreading rings that torched her from the inside out. Denebriel didn't even scream when she died. What remained of her, less than two seconds later, was a statue of ash and ruin.

It collapsed.

In full view of hundreds, maybe thousands of witnesses, it collapsed.

Silence reigned for a moment, or maybe that was Caden failing to hear anything Rayse and Teric said or see whatever they did. The Wizard braced himself on his sword and pushed up to his feet, standing unsteady and exhausted beyond words. He craned his head, looking back to where the Wild Goddess still stood. In mid-air. Divinity, gold in wing and grin. Unfathomable, ineffable, undisputable. An instant bane upon those who would try to continue the Saint's worship.

She cocked her head to one side. Maybe she was about to say something. Maybe not.

The world flashed red and orange and hot, hot, hot. Caden's sword nudged up out of the ground in the same instant, landing with a clatter at the same time his dirty boots hit Rayse's hardwood floor. The Wizard stared about himself in a kind of numb shock as the realization finally hit home that, "We just killed my country's god."

A few seconds later, Caden repeated, "We just killed my country's god."

Rayse was saying something. Caden didn't hear it. Absentminded in the most literal sense, the Wizard picked up his sword and sheathed it again, then patted himself down to make sure everything was still intact. For the most part it was. There were still veins standing out on his hands, and his skin still looked a bit sickly, and he couldn't get the taste of peppermint out of his mouth but...

Caden was alive.

The final, actual, undeniable realization of this fact prompted him to completely ignore Rayse's offered glass, swipe the bottle and chug it in one go. Salvic tolerance for alcohol was the only reason the Wizard didn't vomit from the intake; two or three glasses in one long gulp, followed by the actual glass and then another sip just to be on the safe side.

(At least the peppermint taste was gone after this.)

Caden almost slammed the bottle back down on Rayse's table, clapped both men on the shoulder and finally seemed to register what Rayse had been saying. His belated response was, "Hail to the Chief Thief Efreet in the Land of Spite and Sleet!" followed by a slightly high-strung cackle and a tipsy little stagger to the door. "May your legbreakers carry diamond hammers and-and-oh. I think I may've drank too much," Caden said, shaking his head a few times. "Either way, it's been fun, but I think I've got a boat to catch," and by this point he was already at the door. It was a seemingly futile gesture, trying to get out of the apartment. Rayse had said it was buried. And it was buried.

But when Caden threw open that door, there was nothing but putrid gray grass and dirt in front of him, along with the towering form of the Wild Queen. He had just enough time to sputter, "Oh, striking-" and then he was gone from the apartment. It was like the whole world visibly moved beneath his feet to get him through that doorway, and then it slammed shut behind him. The impact actually echoed like passing thunder.

Opened again, that door would just lead to a cramped but perfectly useful tunnel down to street level. The gray waste that Caden had been called to, the Wizard himself, and the bona fide God who did the deed, were nowhere to be found at the Heart of War. Retribution had dawned elsewhere.

Mortal intervention was necessary, and there ain't no rest for the Wizard.

Spoils: As a consequence of being forced to dabble so heavily in it, Caden's skill at Necromancy is now on par with his standard skill at Wizardry, including an improved version of Leech Arcana (subject to a namechange). His heavy use of it has resulted in minor physical changes (especially vericose veins on the hands). He has obtained functional mastery of Blueraven's Siege Arcana, including several minor variants.

Caden has also gained the ability to conjure up a Nimbus Cloud for limited flight. This is primarily an Arcane ability but requires Sorcery to use in a standard environment (re: background magic doesn't make people combust with a glare), and will fall within the general parameters of those powers during the next character update.

[Bloodrose]

Words couldn't accurately describe the almost out of body experience Teric underwent as the battle dragged itself forgivingly to its conclusion. One minute they were buried underground in the Sway's richly magical sanctum, and the next they were standing in a marble-paved crater under the grey, overcast winter sky amongst the skeletal ruins of the Cathedral. Whether by magic, exhaustion, or some other interfering force, the mercenary's sense of time seemed to skip by what seemed like hours - but could have been only seconds - until Caden's final declaration almost physically forced the timeline back into place.

"Kill this bitch."

The words echoed inside of Teric's head as he almost instinctively moved with Rayse to flank the struggling demi-god on all sides. As if viewing himself from afar, the veteran watched on as he and his nephew worked in tandem to dissect the magic-inhaling Denebriel with lightning-quick, surgical precision. In some strange sense, the swordsman fully expected it to be a futile gesture.

He'd watched Denebriel with his own eyes conjure forth magics not seen since time immemorial. He'd borne witness as she constantly seemed to rebuild herself and adapt to her injuries. The Saint had been beaten, fried, cut, blasted, and endured any number of other combat-adjectives with little complaint, and always come back for more. Even then - right near the end - Teric had watched the would be God pull herself clawing and screaming from a magical singularity.

Even with Caden's endorsement, Teric didn't truly believe that the demi-god would be felled by a few sword cuts. Luckily for everyone involved, probably, Teric's beliefs had a habit of proving false.

Denebriel - the only true power in Salvar for centuries - fell to the ground like the fine ash off of a cigarette butt. There was no rolling thunder or bright lightning overhead - no grand display as the magical essences keeping the Saint alive were stripped of their mortal shell. The demi-god simply disintegrated into the chill Salvic wind and was gone...

Teric blinked and they were on more familiar ground; namely, the dining room in Rayse's apartment. The jarring shift in location was offset by the numbness clouding the mercenary's mind, and almost absently Teric could see it affecting Caden as well. The truly profound impact of what they'd just done was lost on the veteran until Caden put it into words - and even then Teric couldn't quite wrap his mind around the concept.

"Not my God." Teric heard himself say, not really sure if he said it out loud or not. "Not a real God."

Teric instinctively reached for the glass Rayse poured for him, but the wine was flavorless in the mercenary's mouth. As a man so accustomed to boiling situations down into their lowest common denominators, the veteran was trying so hard to find a good analogy for the events of the last couple hours that he could even process the bittersweet bite of the alcohol - nor did he notice Caden move for the door. Numb, perplexed, and very tired, the mercenary didn't even register the presence of another God - Caden's mysterious helper - as the wizard was whisked to places unknown by a power unfathomable to the mortal mind.

It took a minute for Teric to finally move past the blockage in his head and finally say something.

"Well," he said, almost in disbelief, "that was... interesting."

Rayse gave him a look that might as well have said "Really? That's all you can say?" The Contractor was obviously proud of himself and their accomplishment, and in a strange way Teric envied the younger man his natural confidence. While certainly his brash and boisterous swagger could be grating on the stoic, reserved mercenary's nerves, Rayse's almost unshakable self-image as this hugely powerful figure in the world was admirable. To look at him, one could tell that the Contractor suffered no self-doubt. It was as if the younger man had known from the start that they would surely conquer Denebriel on her home turf, and the fact that they had succeeded only cemented their grandeur in the young man's mind.

There'll be no living with him after this. Teric realized wistfully. He could only imagine what effect their god-slaying would have on the Contractor's already brazen ego. At the same time, though, the mercenary couldn't really fault his nephew for that ego. He'd certainly proven himself capable of backing up his talk with action...


Spoils requested:
-The "Magicide Blade" Teric's been hefting around most of the thread. An enchanted, masterwork Dehlar longsword that can nullify magic. Due to the obvious powergaming/trouble inducing implications of a weapon that can completely cancel out magic, I'm going to propose the following restriction if granted:

Restriction: The Magicide blade can only be used in threads with other PC's with the express permission of all thread participants. Meaning that if I want to use the weapon in a battle or non-solo endeavor, I must ask my opponents/fellows for their consent before using it.

[Rayse Valentino]

In the end, three Salvarans had come back to their home to solve a Salvaran problem. However, the city they had returned to would never be the same as they remembered. The entire country was forever changed, and what it truly meant to be a Salvaran had changed as well. They did not know what to make of their home.

As Caden turned his doorway into a magical portal to places unknown, Rayse stared at his back with suspicion and a tired look in his eyes. This was it. His last chance to prevent another Denebriel. After this, there was no telling what the Wizard Blueraven would become. He did not have the energy, the motive, nor the will to do anything about Caden leaving. He just sat there, drinking down every drop of his glass, and afterward pulling out a smoke, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. If he becomes an enemy, then so be it. Until then, he's cool in my book.

The wizard disappeared, his portal vanishing as well, and Rayse's guard fell slightly. It was like his desire to not appear weak in front of others was manifesting itself as adrenaline, keeping him from truly feeling the effects of what he had done. He was looking ahead; far ahead of himself, but he was running out of things to look at. Suddenly, their victory had become bittersweet. They had stepped into a realm they were unfamiliar with, and it was uncomfortable.

It was only Rayse and Teric now, as it had been from the start. There were still many unanswered questions, but The Contractor felt that Teric had none of the answers. Normal humans could not have matched their deeds. With nothing to talk about, they sat by in silence, emptying the last of the two bottles until finally, Teric made his leave.

As the veteran mercenary walked to the door, Rayse leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table, smoke slowly seeping out of his mouth from the almost-spent cigarette butt, "Don't die on me, old man." He didn't mean for it to sound sentimental, but he felt his emotional guard slipping as he said it.

Teric smiled and opened the door, momentarily suspending the exhausted look on his face, "Not planning on it anytime soon." He walked out the door and took a left, looking up the stairs. It was mostly clear, but near the top some rubble was jammed. He pulled out his new sword and after a moment, from inside Rayse heard a crashing sound.

Teric started up the stairs now that the way was clear, moving past the cold Salvic air that flooded Rayse's room from the open door and sent a chill down The Contractor's spine. He leaned back too far in his chair and crashed onto the floor, but quickly got up and ran to the open door way and looked up into the sliver of sky not blocked by Teric's ascent.

"I..." Rayse stammered out, his voice caught in his throat. "The cold, I can feel..." He looked at his hands, and the familiar chill ran through his body. Ever since he was tainted with magic right before the war, he could not feel any sensation of cold. That sensation kept him grounded, and without it he felt like a stranger everywhere he went. The cigarette butt fell out of his mouth and hit the ground, sending a final spark into the air. For the first time in nearly a year, he felt... home. He fought back the tears, turning back into his apartment.

Teric stopped his climb for a moment, his own long-dormant emotions rekindling for a brief moment, "When I come back, I hope you've got work for me." He continued up the stairs until he was out of sight, leaving Rayse alone.

The Contractor closed the door and slowly made his way back to the table but almost collapsed, saving himself by slamming his hands onto the table. Now that they were all gone, his body, his mind; they were all acting up. What exactly... had he just done? He was home now, and back where he started. Everything outside his door was different. He the Salvar he knew was... He took out Denebriel's glass eye and put it on the table. He didn't need it. What he wanted was clear in his mind. The future was his and his alone. After all, he defeated a God! His ego started flaring up, as it was the only way he could deal with this stress. There's no stopping me now. He would be above them all, he wouldn't stop until everyone was bowing at his feet.

A darkness filled his eyes. His intentions were not noble, his desires were not moral, and his dreams were nightmares to others. I can do anything... He picked up the glass eye and clasped it in his hand. All I need... is for someone to watch.

Notes:
-Golden Compass of Destiny: I'm letting this go at Saxon's discretion.
Spoils:
-Magicide Upgrade to Kapteyn- The blade of Rayse's knife now has magicide properties. Nullifies magic. If this is a problem you can apply the same restrictions as Bloodrose.
-Denebriel's Glass Eye- Ability to look into the immediate future.
-At some point, I want an HQ. I can discuss this with the region writer or Judge. I'm waiting until after the events of At the Edge to see what I can do with it.

[Amaril Torrun]

Mortal Intervention



STORY

Continuity ~ 7

Setting ~ 8

Pacing ~ 7 The story began with a hurried sense of purpose that kept me reading. Once you guys hit the fight against Denebriel however, your writing tried to sustain the same level of urgency for too long, making the battle seem a tad too drawn out.


CHARACTER

Dialogue ~ 9

Action ~ 10 The pip squeak NPCs didn’t take too long to die, so that the fighting that did take a while was against the appropriate big players. It effectively showed the levels of strength that not only your own characters possess, but also the strength of their foes. As an action packed quest, I couldn’t have asked for any more than what you did here.

Persona ~ 8


WRITING STYLE

Technique ~ 8 In post 14, your usage of the word “obliterated” seemed a bit odd in describing Teric’s landing. Having used the word already just before that, when the Sway was destroyed, it stuck out awkwardly the second time. When using somewhat bigger words more than once, many readers tend to imagine to word describing the same thing or situation. It is just a small thing, but there were some instances like this where a different word or way of portraying something would have worked better

Mechanics ~ 6 There were several tense issues and a few other grammatical mistakes during the course of the thread that were a little distracting at times.

Clarity ~ 9


MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 7 This was by no means a literary masterpiece, but it was fun and at times thrilling to read. The bit about the lightning bolt not being Caden’s brightest move made the person in the other room ask what I was laughing about. All three of you have a knack for throwing in quick humor like this without it overtaking the story.


TOTAL ~ 79

Rayse Valentino earns 4722 experience for a FQ thread

Caden Law earns 4746 experience for a FQ thread.

Bloodrose earns 4119 experience for a FQ thread.


Your spoils are temporarily granted until your next updates, where our fellow RoG staff will read through the finer details you provide.

Both the magicide blades are granted with Bloodrose's stated restriction.

Denebriel's Glass Eye may be used for story advancing purposes, but will need further description at your next RoG update before you can use it freely.

Since Caden's ability spoils will take up update room, he also earns 200 gold that a grateful witness to his deeds must have slipped into his pocket at some point before catching his boat.

I'm afraid I don't have any authority or enough knowledge about HQ business to tell you one thing or another.

[Taskmienster]

Exp and Gp added.

Caden levels to 8!