Moving through this threshold was not something alien to him, there was a time where self-preservation would tell him to avoid venturing out, slipping between the dimensions into that turbulent stream of chaos and raw sorcery. Yet in a way, it was the closet thing to home he had ever experienced, his earliest memories ones of chaos and confusion as he was sent careening through this twisted maelstrom and had to fend for himself in the Abyss. That first excursion would certainly not be the last, and as he floated through the Ether he was at peace even as those confusing images wrought his mind. Each flash was something he could experience, something he felt as real possibilities that had happened or could occur - yet it was not something he could feel for long, as he drifted away from those timelines and they became impossible to achieve they were severed and erased completely. Once more this was all terribly irrelevant to his main goal, but in the few seconds he traversed this dangerous gateway he had moments to reflect on such things. Whether or not it built upon or eroded his sanity was anyone's guess.
When he blinked into the mortal realm he was greeted with darkness, his form adjusting as he looked down at his hands and curled his fingers and twisted his wrists. The cell wasn't necessarily unfamiliar to him, but it was a new place to be sure. The various scattered items and details were not that important to him either, as he craned his head toward the surface with those entities in the middle of battle. "Hmmm... Why this one? Is it to meet an end by these demon slayers? Or am I to question the one in hiding?" he asked himself, floating just a few paces to the cell door as he slowly raised his hand. The air reverberated from his palm, vibrations twisting and turning and registering like a wave of rolling heat - a slight visual representation of the extension of his mind. It was a mere physical object, and it would bend to his will with the slightest amount of effort. Where he could render it into its constituent parts by blasting it apart with his mind, he decided to go for the more silent and artistic approach. The locking mechanism inside the door was carefully manipulated, the prying wisps of air moved by his mind functioning as an invisible key before it clicked open, and with a simple telekinetic push it swung open for him to float through.
"Do I wait? Hm, no. If I hesitate surely they will retreat elsewhere. But they are together... Waiting could allow me to make more personal connections. Hm, perhaps? No, I must make contact now while I still can. I cannot see many timelines where I perish. Or was I already meant to be dead at this point? Nonsense." he rants to himself as he floats out of the cell and into the outside world.
Those streams and eddies of time seemed to meet at a crossroads here, this exact point in space, this exact moment in the fabric of time. Destiny awaited, and he drifted closer and closer with a calm gait as he moved past the cultists and soldiers alike. Time stood still, and when they began to spot the completely alien presence the chaos of battle might have seemed insignificant for just that moment. As one creature of the Abyss died in the Admiral's grasp, another loomed above and stared directly at him. He opened up his arms as countless tentacles spread with them, their points looking at each and every pair of eyes that stared upon him. He was silent, his right hand lazily curling to extend a finger as he pointed at Mannfred.
"You." he spoke, his voice absolutely aberrant and nearly impossible to grasp. Several voices male and female, adult and child, pure and angelic, and corrupted and demonic all spoke at once, but not in the words he uttered. They spoke backwards and in different languages, that single word reverberating as an echo that gnawed at the backs of their minds in the most unsettling of ways. And yet, there it would be processed - the assail of chaotic sounds translating into a perfectly clear language that spoke back to the listeners in their native tongue. An equivalent to subtitles in their heads. "What is your purpose?"
Niakoma, Blitzwave
Yarah simply shrugged and began to undress fully for bed. She tossed the clothes aside onto the floor and crawled into the bed, adjusting the pillows around her to get comfortable. She was all settled in when Kahleen knocked on the door, and when Jager answered it the succubus made sure to smile and wave at Kahleen when the woman glanced into the cabin. Once the door was closed again and Jager returned to his seat, Yarah flopped back down onto the bed and fell asleep.
---
The two support craft set off from the submarine and made headway out into the dark waters of the sea, bound for Cattapoli. Outside of the safety of the port, the waters here were choppier and stronger. In the far distance, some lights could be see along some of the islands from coastal towns and villages in the highlands that were visible to the sea. It would take about half an hour to cross the channel and sail up around to the bay in Cattapoli, but they would make it there eventually. These waters were not dangerous, but the ships would do well to keep close together just in case.
Cattapoli, Eye of Horus
The Nameless stared at Karam as he spoke, and the smokey form they took on trembled when he finished. "Excellent. She must die. We will return when it has been done. Her soul will become a delicacy to be feasted upon."
Its voice trailed off as the candle started to flicker again. "We must flee now. Danger. Danger to us. More visitors. The watchers will be displeased. Perform this task and you will be a step closer to freeeeedddoooommm..." its multi-voice form hissed before starting to dissipate. The temperature of the room was near freezing, but gradually it started to work back up.
As fast as they had appeared, they were gone. The Nameless - the very same from the legends of old, or something different? It was hard to say for sure anymore what was right or real. All that could be done was pick a path and follow it to completion, and the Nameless had pointed out a very clear one.
Cattapoli, Graves
"We are of no concern here," the Omaen responded harshly, her whiskers twitching as she stared up at Graves. "Humans with guns concern the locals. Bad for public safety, you see. Be gone from our alley. We are weary and have traveled much today."
A few of the nearby beastfolk nodded and grunted affirmatives, all glaring at the band of humans at the end of the alley. Some of them had their hands and entire arms entirely concealed in their robes and rags, making it difficult to tell if they were hiding anything or simply keeping well-bundled up. They didn't seem particularly hostile, but they weren't happy.
At that moment there was a muffled and quiet sound of an explosion, more of a light rumble, that drifted in across the city. From the streets and alleys of this district it was impossible to see the explosion, but its low intensity meant it must have been not very far away. The beastfolk in the alley stirred slightly when this echo reached them, and more eyes fell upon Graves and his men.
Cattapoli, Consulate
The vantage of the docks from the hill the consulate sat on provided a fair view of the explosion down that way - a red fireball rushing upwards before bleeding away into the night as black smoke replaced the initial burst. It seemed like everyone was cursing and the marines from Brunswick were looking around for orders. The sergeant started bellowing for the men to hold their ground as their objective was to protect the consulate from any threat, and that whatever was happening down there was up to the others. A young marine was sent down as a runner to get an update on the situation, and a troop of Cattan guards with spears made haste down the main avenue to reinforce the docks. Already, a few citizens were poking their heads out from windows and doorways to see what the ruckus was all about.
Norrys gathered his band of troops and they also made haste to the docks, hot on the heels of the Cattan spearmen already headed down there. By now, the initial grandeur of the explosion had died down as everything that could burn was reduced to flames, and much of the oil slick ground was on fire along with the wooden docks which were sure to burn for a long time. Already, a couple small sailing vessels were on fire. As they got further down the city and to the docks, people were crowding around near the market to observe this sudden catastrophe, but many more were forming bucket brigades and chains to pass water to the docks. A large wagon with a huge barrel laid out in the back was bounding down the cobbled road, followed by beastfolk wearing uniformed short caps. A fire engine, apparently, and not an impressive one.
Thankfully, the Buttero was already near the docks and several high pressure hoses were angled at the inferno. Men and Cattan were swimming to the ship and being pulled in, while others were flocking to other rescuers.
Cattapoli, Nita and Spaghetti
The only two visible beastfolk, both Vulkaine, eyed Jack and the others closely as they slowly exited the wagon and laid down their weapons. Nita remained behind, the staff continuing to glow brighter - any longer and it would be visible from all angles that something within the wagon was glowing.
"Hands on head, bodies on ground. Quick quick," the voice from the alleyway commanded, and for good measure the beastfolk holding onto Spaghetti tightened their grip on him and the knife glinted in the moonlight as it was pressed closer to his neck. With the already two dead soldiers, they weren't playing around.
Then, in their own language, the voice called out to Nita. "Whore-bovine, leave the cart. Toss out your witchery staff first. Any tricks and you will all die here."
Cattapoli, Problem Child
Margaretta finally broke the embrace and wiped her tears away with her hands, shifting away from Yves and sitting beside him. Her eyes were still damp and her face slightly flushed.
"Farryn?" She asked, somewhat surprised. "You speak of the Blood Thirster, yes? You have spoken to this terrible man? I... I didn't know he was alive. I've been trapped and only able to see from my painted worlds, and from some of them I have learned that Raum is returning. I tried so hard to find a soul to help, and after searching for so long I found you."
She clasped her hand to her head and had to wipe away more tears. "I'm afraid I know little else of what is happening in this world anymore, monsieur. I'm surprised you know of my past, but I am glad you do. Though to have heard it from... Farryn..." Margaretta shivered slightly. "Is he here? Somewhere nearby? I don't think I sense him but there are others..."
Her eyes widened slightly as she extended her mind. "So many others! Monsieur, where are we?! I can sense gods and demons and so much... mon Diue! This is so all strange!"
Cattapoli, Eisenstrasse
The airship lit up brightly from all the spotlights and other illuminating sources as it relocated itself away from the burning docks. With many lights shining on the bay, most of the men who had fallen in the water had the benefit of being well lit with spotlights. Dark bay waters weren't comfortable to be floundering around in, and with the help of the spotlights the wounded would be much easier to find as well.
Spotlights from the Buttero escort ship mixed in with the airships, but the small boat didn't have such a full vantage. Efforts were underway to get a medical team and the small boats off the airship and to the docks to assist.
Down in the mess hall, the Kobolds were in an elevated state of excitement with all the commotion, but to their credit they weren't panicking. They were a pragmatic people and they realized there was little they could do here to help aside from keeping out of the way. Gawain adjusted his cap and hurried after Ephraim to join him on the Magpisk, while Kass and the kobolds loitered around the mess hall and near the observation windows to watch all that was unfolding below.
Veranhal, Mariner's Boon
Andria shifted backwards on the bed as Tobey sat close to her, eying her sternly. She didn't seem comfortable, but at least she was talking.
"Rifts are unprotected portals. They can be natural or not, and they always damage the ground near them. Ryza was a sorceress who explored these portals. This was long ago in the ancient days and eventually she disappeared, never to be seen again. When rifts open up, the energies within can transform the stone around the portal. These magically imbued stones are called Ryza's Tears. These rocks are... rare enough, but I... know some people who have some. They can be used to help with sorcery."
Cattapoli, Dagger Rock
A lot was happening at once. Some of the surviving marines were helping each other out while a couple readied their weapons on the cultists, and at the same time Vunor had adjusted his focus and managed to further the ice spell towards them. As all of the cultists were standing in the water, the ice trapped their feet and kept them from moving. Some of them were sitting or had fallen in the water when the screeches of the dying demon stunned them, and they were more thoroughly trapped.
Krantz and Varadi were relatively unharmed and back on their feet, while Fontaine kept mostly down after having been sent sprawling a few times.
The water demon made an awful gurgling sound as it died, its arms weakly thrashing at the admirals body. When it finally died, he simply tossed it aside and sat up. Mannfred looked slightly annoyed, but his expression changed entirely when another demon appeared.
This new arrival stunned everyone in the chamber, as neither side had expected its entrance. No one was sure whose side it was on, too. It spoke in a difficult to comprehend voice, leveling a finger at the admiral. Mannfred's expression was one of pure hostile annoyance, the look of an arrogant soul which had just discovered some new affront. He seemed otherwise unfazed by the demon speaking to him, and as he pulled himself up to his feet, he leveled a finger back at it.
"Be. Quiet."
He turned his gaze to the cultists, stepping towards them, and he raised his left hand with his palm open and fingers splayed out. He then made a clenched fist.
All of the cultists made some expression of alarm - either gasping or dropping their weapons. Many clutched at their chests and sank awkwardly to their knees, looking panicked and stricken. Their eyes started to turn red from internal hemorrhaging and some coughed up blood. Within a mere minute, all of them were dead. Fawnstar simply sat where he was, encased in ice, looking bewildered at the bodies and chaos around him.
"Donnovan."
"Sir!" The sergeant called out cautiously, he and the marines watching this new demon carefully with their weapons trained on it.
"Secure the Consul."
"Aye, sir!" The burly marine motioned for two more men to join him, and the trio carefully but quickly made their way across the ice, not sparring the floating demon another glance.
Finally, the admiral stepped away from the dead cultists and looked up at this newly arrived demon. Mannfred's turtleneck sweater was filthy and torn, a seemingly fatal gash in his side no longer bleeding but visible. More cuts from the tentacles and the demon's claws marred his stomach, chest, and arms. Survivable, potentially, but he should have been unconscious at the least. Not walking around. For those that were ever observant, the admiral had stopped breathing again and his face seemed a little... sharper.
"My patience is at its limits, stray. You will answer me first and foremost. Why are you here, and what are your intentions? Speak quickly." His tone of voice was harsh as he glared at the levitating demon. Even when wounded or otherwise in a tough spot, the admiral had always been collected and calm. Now he seemed angry, and his expression was not comfortable to behold.
His left hand was resting by his side, but still in a fist. When his arm started to tremble he stuffed his hand into the remains of his coat pocket, but it appeared that his fingers on that hand were also slightly... sharper.
For the demon, it would be clear that there was an incredible amount of Etherial presence radiating off of the admiral, but it was bound tightly to his form and difficult to perceive. While many demons, magical anomalies, magical items, and similar had auras of energy, Mannfred had a peculiar one. Many demons and sorcerers had powerful auras where their hearts were located, and often times they left a trail wherever they went. The admiral, however, had no such thing and was entirely concealed like a mortal who had no touch of sorcery - except for subtle waves which surrounded him like the heat distortion seen around a hot surface. There was a spike of energy around his concealed left hand, and his eyes simmered. This was all notable because there was no way of deciphering what this meant exactly, or what he was. A powerful mortal sorcerer or something else?
Fallensteller listened quietly as the Messenger spoke, silently absorbing the information and hanging on every word. When the Messenger had finished, she had more questions. "At Campo Diablo, when you first appeared to us, you said that Admiral Mannfred was a servant of Raum..." she thought hard to remember the exact words. "You said he used to be 'honest.' Is that what's happened here? Did Mannfred betray the Lord? And more importantly... he's sailing this sea claiming he's going to find a way to finish Him off. I'm assuming he can't do it alone, because then he wouldn't have bothered bringing the rest of the fleet. But he is powerful... I've only seen a fraction of his abilities and to be quite honest, he terrifies me. How do we stop him?"
Jäger grunted and smiled as Yarah fell asleep. His eyes shifted towards the notebook infront of him. A feather as white as snow was dipped into the inkwell. Jäger moved his hand to the notebook.
Captain Wilhelm Jäger
Mannfred Expedition
Beastfolk,. Sorcery and the War Between Gods
-----
"Keep your eyes on the water, lads!" Yelled one of the deckhands onboard the Raven. Kahleen watched as the sailors moved about on deck. Spotlights were ignited, rescue boats were readied and small inflatable rafts were piled up along the railings.
Kahleen spoke up. "Corporal."
A Gothian marksman standing nearby, Corporal Dahl, turned around. "Ma'am?"
"Are the men ready?"
Dahl nodded. "Yes ma'am, men and vehicles are ready to step ashore once we reach Cattapoli. Torsson and the rest onboard the Falcon have also given their signal."
Satisfied with the answer Kahleen nodded. "Once we make landfall we will secure a perimeter around the adjacent streets and ensure that our allies can do whatever it is they need to do."
Dahl nodded. "Understood."
The two soldiers fell silent and simply watched the sea and the raging fire far in the distance.
At the demands of the admiral he lowered his finger, faceless gaze moving into a nod as he placed his hands behind his back and waited patiently. The demon at least appeared to be agreeable, and he made no movements as he lazily hovered in the air. He was able to observe what Mannfred had done to the cultists, the tentacles aimed at their heads slowly going limp as their organs failed systematically. Such an incredible waste... Those 'freed' tentacles then retreated toward his back, starting to move like half-tethered strings in the wind in their idle state. The others still trained themselves on Mannfred and his men, like vipers ready to strike as their points looked to be as sharp as daggers, aiming right between all of their foreheads. The admiral had the honor of two of those odd extremities being pointed at him.
Once it appeared like his business was finished and the attention was back on him, the demon's hands met one another and the fingers began to stoop as they gently rolled and tapped together. He was not afraid of the threats in the least bit, or the several weapons pointed at him. "Hm. I see. Your purpose is to give orders." he surmises, mind racing as he observes the odd changes to the being before him. "Or is it greater then that? Such a natural leader - skills gained in the field or through other means? Experience that... outlasts that of other humans, hm? A prodigy of your kind! Unless..." He stopped himself, actually catching on to the fact that he was derailing and ranting, though the questions he asked were things he was asking himself it would certainly be a boon if the Admiral chose to answer any of them.
"You call me 'stray'. Apt. I suppose that is one way to describe me, yes. Ever since I came into being I have searched for purpose. My intentions? Hm, indeed. I seek to gain that purpose, and my quest for yet more knowledge has led me directly to you." he speaks. The hands open and one moves out to his side where the other rests against his chest, the demon performing a rigid and alien bow that seemed to be formal. "Perhaps we can make an arrangement. I have seen the events to come - I can aid you, but you must aid me."
Krantz and Váradi looked on as Mannfred promptly killed the cultists with a simple gesture of his left hand. Were they even needed here? They then turned their attention to this new demon that had appeared during the fighting...and was leveling numerous tentacles at each and everyone being the room. Things were getting stranger and stranger, but at least Fawnstar was unharmed in all of this.
As Mannfred and the demon talked, Krantz emptied the spent cartridges from the revolver and loaded a few more silver bullets into it. Just in case. Váradi did the same, but was using conventional cartridges.
Once Krantz had finished reloading Mannfred's revolver, he looked back and noticed Fontaine was sitting on the floor. He stepped over and offered his hand to help him up.
---------------------------
As the crew of the Eisenstrasse did everything they could to assist in the efforts below, Von Strauss looked to one of the other officers on the lower bridge. "I need to step away for a moment. You have command till I return." she said. The officer saluted after a moment of hesitation, and Von Strauss departed from the bridge.
She arrived back at her quarters after a few minutes of travel through the airship. Once inside, she shut the door and locked it.
Then, the giggling started again, and it only took a few moments to escalate into pure joy-filled laughter.
When she finally stopped, she sighed and looked into the mirror nearby. Her eyes were a searing yellow, and she bore a wide grin. "Wonderful!" she said simply. She couldn't wait to sleep tonight, so she could talk to the little doll about what had happened. But for now, she had to contain her excitement. Lest the others start prying.
Fontaine got up on his feet, ears still ringing somewhat, but he felt fine. He wondered why Manfred even bothered bringing them along if he could just handle this situation on his own, but then the second demonic entity showed up adding more questions to the pile. He didn't bother raising a weapon against it. He had a feeling it wouldn't matter for this one.
---
Karam nodded as things in the room began to return to normal. The door banged as someone was yelling from the other side begging to get his attention. Opening the door revealed one of the officers from the bridge
"Sir, I've been banging on the door for the last five minutes. Did you not hear me?"
"I was...preoccupied. What's wrong?"
"Did you not hear the explosion bellow?" The man stammered "Half the city must be wide awake by it by now. Someone blew up the docks and it's now a raging inferno down there. We pulled out to avoid getting caught in the fire and going up in flames."
"Well don't just stand there like an imbecile then! Organize men to go down there and help with putting that fire out! If our men down there are alive and well, they should be doing the same. You don't need me to tell you this." Karam scolded the officer. He closed the door to his quarters behind him and started walking to the bridge. He stopped and turned around "Well? Get to it, man!"
---
Graves was about to answer to the cat's cheeky answer in the same way he answered many smartasses before her when he heard the explosion. The company men turned heads to see where it came from. It was obvious. The docks. Something was happening and he didn't know what. Was the consulate the next target? He wondered. His gaze returned to the beastfolk now looking at him as if he was the one responsible.
"I'm sure whatever made that sound is interesting. Want us to escort you there to see?" He didn't wait for an answer. He knew what they were going to say. "No? Well, I'll make myself more clear then. Boys!" The company men got over their confusion rather quickly and aimed their guns towards the beastfolk "I was rather unclear before, I guess. So let me speak in a language that everybody can understand. You will come with us. You will tell the guards what you were doing here. Or I will drag you there kicking and screaming if I have to."
Ephraim, Gawain and the Eisenstrasse soldier, who was sent to retrieve the former, quickly arrived in the cargo bay, and began the proper deployment procedure for the Magpisk, as it was obvious that they wouldn't be able to just drop him into the water. Lanzo and Dagobert also arrived, the latter due to the former's insistence, as the former knew that Ephraim would get involved.
The five, joined by another soldier for a total of six, quickly got to attaching the appropriate ropes to the points on the dinghy that they've previously attached the rope to. Ephraim, Gawain, Lanzo and Dagobert got on the Magpisk, and it was lowered down to assist retrieving those soaking in the sea, with the ropes being detached once the boat touched water.
Vunor walked over the ice towards Fawnstar, eyeing the new arrival with caution. Another demon? Yet it does not attack... he thought to himself. He quickly shook his head and focus on his
main task: the consul. It was his primary duty at the moment to ensure the safety of Fawnstar. "Consul, are you alright?" Vunor asked almost without breath.
---
Nita waited with abated breath for Jack's signal, which she probably guessed would be the start of a fight. She gripped her staff tightly until her knuckles turned white.
Jack in the meantime furrowed his brow at the enemy before very slowly lowering himself. "Alright... let me just... get down... NOW!" he yelled before quickly moving the pistol in his sleeve to
his hand and firing a shot straight at the head of the cultist that held Spaghetti with a dagger. Just as quickly, Nita tossed the revolver toward Jack's general direction, hoping it would reach
him or one of his men and leaped out of the carriage and pointed her staff to the alleyway. "Hyrrá."
In that moment, a large untamed wave of flames released itself violently from the staff's end, filling the alleyway with flame.
Abyss, Raum's Cathedral
The Messenger was silent for a moment after Fallensteller had spoken. He looked away from her and glanced over the body of Raum on the table, before motioning for her to follow him back outside of the room and into the grand hall. Once outside, he gestured for her to pull up one of the wooden chairs from the table while he sat down at it. His pale hands fidgeted slightly as he seemed lost in thought, before finally he turned to look back at her.
"This... is a far more complicated and longer story than we have time to discuss. My original intention of visiting that mansion was to sow discontent, doubt, and fear into the hearts of all of those who were gathered. At first I saw you all as fuel for our lord, but I noticed something more - you, and a few others. I had glimpsed into your soul, Sabine, and from that moment I knew that you needed our lord, and that he needed you. The words I spoke to Mannfred were true, partly, just as your assumptions are partly true. You are very clever. This story, however, is perhaps better explained through memory rather than lecture. Give me your hand, Sabine."
He held out his left hand, palm upwards.
"Simply put, Mannfred did indeed once serve Raum. For a short time. This was right before the outbreak of the war, but the time was no less bloody, no less depraved and deplorable than it would later become," he explained somberly, but with some distaste.
Once Fallensteller had placed her hand on his, the Messenger lowered his other hand onto hers and clasped it gently. "You will become ill from this. A glimpse into a mind to view memories is a tiring process for both, but you, my dear, are still young and inexperienced. This is not a long memory, nor will it explain all of this entirely - but you will understand more. Close your eyes now. And relax."
As she did so, barely enough time passed for her to take a deep breath before reality shifted changed.
----
It was raining. A fire was burning in the central stone fire pit of the wooden building, which creaked as the winds outside grew in strength. The shutters rattled violently with thunder, and lighting could easily be seen flashing brightly through the cracks. It was not the season for these kind of storms, nor did they ever come on this fast. In the afternoon it had been sunny but not too warm, and a good day for outdoor labor. But this storm came on so quickly that all were caught unaware, and a number of farmers had already gone missing when the fields started to flood in the lower valley.
Over the fire was a small roast, some animal being cooked slowly over it. From the smell, it was well-seasoned and near completion. Lanterns illuminated the long house and were kept away from the windows so that if the shutters blew out, then there was little risk of a lantern being toppled and catching the building on fire. The floor was simple wooden slats, but there were plenty of furs and fabrics all throughout.
"Taurus?" A voice called out urgently from outside, followed by footsteps trudging through mud. "Taurus!"
The door to the building was kicked in and a figure loomed in the doorway, drenched in rain and covered in mud up to their knees. In their arms was a young boy who was severely wounded, with cuts to his arms and chest. He had long silky black hair and his eyes were wide with anger, but his face was expressionless as he simply stared into nothingness. His clothes were torn apart and ragged.
The man holding the child looked bewildered, his eyes wide not in anger - but in panic. He also had long dark hair, but it was pulled back into a high and tight ponytail, bound with braided and colorful leather. His irises were pitch black. Still, his facial structure was... rather familiar. Fallensteller had seen this man before.
"He killed Lucria. He fucking killed Lucria!" The man shouted, hurrying towards the center of the room. He was followed by a man that was immediately recognizable - Farryn, looking equally bewildered, with his white hair a mess.
"I... he... he did what?" An old but firm voice responded, which was much louder and clearer - the speaker from whom the memory belonged to.
"He killed Lucria," the black-eyed man responded, setting the young boy down by the fire. "We found him out in the woods with Lucria's mutilated body at his feet. I've... I've never seen anything like it. Her sword was reduced to just the hilt, I don't even know what happened to the blade! Her entire body is just... shattered. Her limbs are broken entirely, her bones snapped through the skin. Entirely decapitated... and her eyes, Taurus, he clawed her fucking eyes out!"
"Oh... oh no, no, no... Raum, what have you done?"
Taurus, from whom the perspective of the memory was from, hurried over and knelt beside the boy. His eyes were still staring blankly ahead with utter hatred and contempt and what appeared to be wounds on his hands and arms weren't his - it was blood and gore from Lucria. He was entirely unresponsive and would have appeared unconscious had his eyes been closed.
"He's in some kind of shock from the battle, he won't speak, blink, or move."
"Calcifer, I'm going back out there, I need to make sure they aren't coming," Farryn interjected, taking the arm of the black-eyed man. "We can't stay here long."
"Go, go, I'll be right there with you shortly!" Calcifer responded, and Farryn hurried back out into the storm.
Taurus snatched up some cloth near the fire, as well as a basin of water that was being heated for tea. He soaked the rags and started to clean the boy's face off.
"You... are certain Lucria is dead?"
Calcifer was standing and pacing the room. "Her body, yes. Soul - I don't know. Its the cause of the storm, thats for certain, but I don't think it was a clean kill. He made her suffer."
Taurus nodded, cleaning away the blood and filth from the boy. "You know she deserved it," he said after a moment.
Calcifer stopped pacing.
"I know she deserved it. I know. After what Lucria did to him and his sister, what she forced him to do to her, I know... but I didn't think he would take the Leap. I didn't think he would go and find her, and then kill her like that! Damnit, Taurus, he's going to start a war! Her warband will stop at nothing to find and kill him. They'll burn everything down in their path!" Calcifer shouted. "Apocryhpa will come for him, too. There's no denying that. I don't know who will be faster, but when they find him - when they find us - it'll be bad."
"What will you and Farryn do? You both were the ones who saved him from that hell at Kasar Carn. You have no love for those gods. If he doesn't recover and they find him, I... I can't imagine the unspeakable things they will do to him," Tauraus said softly. "You have to help him. I don't have the power to fight alone."
"I know, damnit, I know! The balance is already fragile enough, once one god is murdered it will all spiral out of control if we fight back. If they kills us all, thats the end of it - Raum is... is a god now, but he has no followers, no base, no nothing! Its just us. Lucria is one of the four gods of war, Taurus, you think her followers are just going to... do nothing? They're going to go mad, if they haven't already! And Lady Apocrypha's laws have formed the foundation for our very civilization! Raum didn't duel Lucria, he didn't defeat her in battle, he murdered her!"
Calcifer looked irritated, but it was apparent he also cared for the safety of the boy. The gravity of what he was saying was heavy, and even Fallensteller, without fully comprehending the context of what was being said, could feel the fear, uncertainly, and seriousness weigh upon her mind.
"This was going to happen sooner or later, Calcifer, and you know it. If it wasn't Lucria's brutalized hordes, it would have been someone else's, and if it wasn't Raum, if would have been another tormented soul. Even you and Farryn have played most dangerously. The Landeshi have always been vicious but honorable swordsmen, Raum and Valentina no exception. They were inseparable. But they ended up on the wrong side, just like so many others. Lucria's penchant for mass executions and torture have ruined so many. Its clearly taken a toll on the boy if its driven him to become a god for revenge. We have to stand our ground. For justice. Not the justice that Apocrypha stands for, or Lucria's Chosen, but for real justice! The justice to live without being the playthings of gods. There have been revolts in the past, this won't be the first."
"And they've all failed, Taurus! Don't you understand, I don't even want to revolt! What reason do I have to be apart of this now other than by simple association? Farryn and I - we aren't soldiers, we're scholars! The things we do is for knowledge, for understanding. We've stayed here far longer than we should have."
"So you are going to abandon him?"
Calcifer went silent, his hands balled up into fists. "I didn't say that. We'll fight... for now. We all loved Valentina, but even she would say we're walking into senseless slaughter. Farryn and I won't fight to rebel, we'll fight for her memory. No more."
Both of the men said nothing for a moment as the storm continued to rage outside. Calcifer dropped to his knees beside the boy and took his hand into his tightly. Raum remained silent and unresponsive, but his eyes still showed fire within. With much of the blood and grit cleaned off of his face and upper body, it was clear he took very few wounds from his fight with Lucria - a large gash ran across from his stomach to his side, and his shoulder had taken a hit hard enough to crack his collarbone. The fingers on his left hand were broken and there was a long thin cut across his cheek.
"How many other Landeshi are in this village?"
"Only two, but there is another a village over."
"I'll go get them. They'll heed the call. Three Landeshi are enough against normal troops, but against even a single god... I don't know. Its better than nothing. Any of them old guard?"
"I think you know the answer to that, Calcifer. There's been nothing but young guard left for years. There is only one older than Raum and his sister, the rest are all younger."
The black-eyed man shook his head. "Child swordsmen. This is ridiculous."
"And still one is more than a match for a dozen men," Taurus responded. "They'll fight for Raum."
Lightning struck not far away and the ground shook, one of the shutters finally being torn off from a window. Cold wind and rain swept into the back of the long house.
"This storm won't go away any time soon, either. If its being fed off of Lucria's dying soul, then it will get worse. Much worse. Had he killed her cleanly all we would be dealing with is a crater or an Ether snap. Now her soul is bleeding into the land. He didn't kill her like a Landeshi, he killed her like a savage. It doesn't matter anymore - I need to go. We'll return later when we can, but if the wind gets any worse we'll have to retreat to the mountain temple. The river's already gone over its banks and the fields are flooding, so expect refugees up this way."
Calcifer said nothing more as he simply looked down at Raum, before turning and making for the door. It nearly came off it's hinges when he opened it, but he stepped out into the storm and managed to close it shut behind him.
---
The memory ended there with another sudden snap, and the Messenger let go of Sabine's hand. Her mind was spinning and a trickle of blood was seeping from her nose, and it was difficult for her vision to focus. The emotion from the memory had flown into her all at once, barely giving her body time to react and process it all. It was no simple thing to take on the sensations and emotions of another person, especially when you had to deal with it all in such a short amount of time.
"You've handled this better than I expected, but now you know a little more. The beginning of it all. Mannfred - or to use his real name, Calcifer - was there at the start. There is more, of course, but you will begin to suffer unduly if you were to take another dive."
[page break]
:thinking:
Cattan Channel, Blitzwave Transports
The two small ships made fair time as they powered across the dark open ocean to the main island of Cattapoli. Even in these channel waters, the bioluminescence of sea creatures occasionally swam by the ships at varying depths. Serpents and eels were closer to the surface of the water and made strangely hypnotic motions around the ships, while larger beasts were much deeper in the water and only appeared as passing smears of color.
Soon enough, they were sailing along the coast and coming up on the bay. The raging inferno which had engulfed a portion of the docks was easily visible now, the flames stretching dozens of feet into the air. The largest concern was stopping it from spreading into the bay market, as well as the rest of the docks which stretched all the way along the bay. Right now it was confined to a large concrete pier which jutted out from the market area, but it could easily continue along the dock - or worse, the fire could spread into the market and catch buildings on fire.
The Buttero was near the docks and spraying them down with high pressure hoses. All around it was smaller wooden boats with men fishing out those who had fallen or dived into the bay, while other small craft were attempting to put out the fire with smaller pumps intended for internal ship use. It was hard to say if the fire was contained, but it hadn't spread much more yet. Somewhere out in the water was the Magpisk, picking up survivors.
A few small ships which were in the docks were burning, and some sailors had cut their mooring lines loose and shoved them off into the bay so that the hulks wouldn't obstruct the firefighting efforts, along with their eventual sinking causing issues for later ships in the docks.
Cattapoli, Alleyway with Graves
"Saladeem!" The female Omaen shouted when the guns were aimed at them, and several of the nearby beastfolk threw flash powder bombs at the humans. They had been holding onto them within their clothes and only had to flick their hands out to toss them. These little orbs exploded on contact with the ground, causing a terrifically bright flash and putting up a lot of smoke. However, it quickly became clear that there was more to the flash powder bombs than just smoke and light - something mixed in was causing the eyes to become scratchy and irritable. Just a single breath of the smoke was enough to make the throat sore as well.
Some had already gotten off some shots - either accidentally or purposefully - as the beastfolk charged the smaller human band. Knives and daggers were appearing in their hands as they tried to overwhelm and rush the gunmen, slashing and stabbing at them. Already a couple had gone down from being shot, and those that were initially attacking were down to using only one hand as they were adjusting their turbans and veils over their faces to protect from the irritants in the smoke bombs.
The wind was not in the favor of the humans as the smoke carried into their group, and it all lingered in the street as the walls kept it in.
Cattapoli, Nita and Spaghetti
Jack's sudden shouting alerted the two cultists, but the first one barely had time to get his blade up before a bullet tore into his skull. The other cultist tried to use Spaghetti as a shield from getting shot, and in doing so, had ended up dragging his dagger across his upper chest and collarbone. He forcibly shoved Spaghetti at Jack, and then took off running into the alley.
Nita was fast as well, and as soon as the second pistol landed on the ground with the other men, she was out of the carriage and aiming her staff down the alleyway. Her eyes were a little more adjusted to darkness, and she could now see two figures running away in the opposite direction. They didn't make it more than a few dozen feet before her staff shot out a large jet of wild fire, igniting the two unarmed cultists who had been hiding in the dark and giving orders. They both collapsed to the cobbled ground, shrieking, as their fur and heavy clothes made excellent material to burn.
Trash and junk in the alleyway was also ignited, along with the shutters of one of the buildings that made up one side of the alley.
Cattapoli, Dagger Rock
Sergeant Donnovan and his two marines were breaking the consul out of the ice and helping him up. The Heran was unharmed physically, but he was clearly shaken. He grasped Vunor's arm as the shaman approached and he glanced between him and the floating demon. When he spoke, it was in their native tongue.
["I owe you a great debt for my life, Vunor - I don't know what to say,"] Fawnstair said heavily. ["I... I cannot believe what has happened tonight. I barely understand what is happening now. Another demon? It doesn't attack, but I feel ill just looking at it."]
The admiral listened to the demon speak silently, his lips curled into an unhappy snarl and his eyes glaring. His left hand remained in his jacket while he gestured with his right.
"Your arrival at this time is far too convenient... but I can tell you aren't quite what I think. A stray of your nature... you aren't even Abyssal, though I can sense that upon you. I can see that you are terribly lost as well, though perhaps your interruption can be forgiven," he explained, finally taking a deep breath after what had been minutes of not breathing. His face softened, though he still looked annoyed.
"If you even wish to step foot out of this place and among my fleet, you will need to make adjustments. Your form is far too... unkind to the eyes."
A marine with a submachine gun and a slash across his cheek made his rounds, checking on Krantz, Varadi, and Fontaine. He looked the three of them over. "Are you gentleman alright?"
The demon's form was indeed confusing and alien, yet it was not the cause of sickness or confusion that many observing him were experiencing. His presence was assailing the mind in various ways, gnawing at it in a most unsettling fashion to those who were grossly under-prepared for meeting face to face with it. It was the kind of discomfort and pressure one might feel with a headache, yet waves of dizziness and a sensation akin to insects writhing beneath the skin and inside one's head weren't terribly uncommon. It all seemed to be amplified in the vicinity of those tentacles, as if their ominous pointing was the direct cause of all of this. What was their purpose? Surely if it was meant to be a lethal strike going for the heart was better, slipping through the rib cage far easier to do than burrowing through the skull. Yet it was deliberate in choosing to point them at their heads, a choice that would lead to a chilling realization if looked into further.
Thankfully, the demon continued to seem cordial despite the Admiral's underhanded insults, experiencing an emotion close to humor yet likely unable to laugh. "Aah, perceptive! Yes, my origins are... complicated. The details I possess hazy at best, indeed." he comments before rising from his bow. "Convenient. Interesting - an observation with a double meaning, perhaps? Should I desire I could no doubt kill you in your weakened state, a being as powerful as yourself is certainly strained from the battle that just took place. Hm. Do I see myself killing you? In some timelines, yes. Yet those events end much sooner than the ones where I extend an offer of alliance. Or do they? Hrm..." the demon rants on. At the mention of his form his faceless head scans the expressions of those around him, not needing to look at them directly to know their presence yet now able to look into the finer details. Disgust, fear, confusion - it was all so very palpable and he did enjoy it a great deal.
"Adjustments..? Possible. Potentially, certainly. My form is difficult to manipulate, its ability to change into new shapes rudimentary at best and unstable at worst. A feeble skill I have not felt the need to improve upon, or even considered, yes. However, hiding one's true form from the prying and curious eyes of mortals can certainly be taught... Perhaps a tutorial is in order?" His manner of speech was difficult to 'listen' to in the first place, let alone pick up on emotion on contextual clues to his speech. However, that last question he uttered had the slightest hint of smugness, indicating he knew more than he was leading on. Or did he?
"Thirty seconds!" Yelled one of the deckhands as the Raven and Falcon aimed for a smaller pier a stone's throw away from the main docks. Inflatable rubber pillows at the bow of the landing craft were filled with air, causing the collision with the pier to be less violent.
A pair of ramps deployed and collapsed onto the pier with tiny metal claws on the underside keeping them in position. Engines roared to life and accompanied the sound of boots rushing down the ramp.
The two trucks accompanying the assault forces parked on the pier. Teams of three marines each pulled down the grey tarp covering the rear compartment to reveal a quad heavy machinegun bolted onto the flatbed. Once the defenses were in place Kahleen and Torsson split up.
Two convoys were formed with each one being led by one of the command jeeps. Kahleen and Torsson directed their drivers as the vehicles entered the city. In the backseat their respective radio operators were busy relaying orders and directives.
Torssons convoy eventually stopped at the main street, blocking off all of the lanes. The vehicles were parked in a semi-circle with the roof gunners scanning for possible threats. Around the vehicles Gothian marines in trenchcoats and their signature plate armor stepped out to form a perimeter.
As Torsson barked out orders Kahleen's convoy reached the docks and parked on the outskirts of the market, keeping it between them and the docks. Like on the main street a perimeter was formed around the vehicles with Gothians forcing off bystanders to clear way for those actually helping with the fire efforts.
Kahleen, followed by Dahl, made their way towards a squad of marines from the Revenant. Kahleen rushed away a strand of hair from her face. "Soldiers. Report."
Fallensteller doubled over when the vision ended, one hand clutching her head while the other was propped on her knee, keeping her from falling down completely. When the pain began to subside, she wiped the blood from her nose away onto her arm and forced herself to straighten up.
There is more, of course, but you will begin to suffer unduly if you were to take another dive.
"That's quite reasonable," she rasped, catching her breath a bit. "But... as enlightening as that memory proved to be, there's still one, glaring, unanswered question." She looked up into the void where the Messenger's face should be with a frightful determination. "How do we stop Mannfred?" It was obvious that Fallensteller knew she was playing from an underdog's position, and that she still had far less at her disposal than the enemy. This place, with all its magnificent architecture and divine splendor, had not gone to her head. She was well aware of its stillness, the total lack of vivacity and charm. Yet she was undaunted regardless, determined to restore it to glory.
---
Returning to the channel aside Cattapoli, the glow in the distance changed from mysterious to menacing as Dobbs, Ackermann, and the guard detachment in the Vice Admiral's skiff began to realize what was happening at the concrete pier ahead. Seeing the inferno lick at the starry sky and the desperate effort to contain it, Dobbs stood and accepted a pair of binoculars from his accompaniment and observed the chaos up close. "My God," he said quietly. "Men, get us there as quickly as possible. They need all the help they can get!"
Ackermann, sitting not on the seat but down in the floor of the metal boat, his arm cuffed to a rail and his foot in a ball-and-chain shackle, grimaced as he realized, same as the Vice Admiral, that such a large blaze in that location probably wasn't an accident.
"Out of the smoke! Out of the smoke! Get out of the damn smoke!" Graves shouted at his men. "Keep your front facing them. Don't give them a chance to flank you!" Half of them were protected by their facemask and could focus on the attacking cultists, but the other half were too cocky not to. Damn amateurs. Still it was not like such an event was predictable. Not everyday you meet a bunch of fury cultist in a dark street that throw smoke bombs.
He was quick on the draw to unload his sidearm into the cultist. A quick glance around allowed him to spot what the rest of his men were doing. Those not coughing were already dealing with the attacking hoard. He reloaded as quickly as he could and could make out the next few targets.
---
"I may have a minor concussion from that brick hitting me, but I've had worse." Fontaine rubbed his head where the brick smashed into him "Thank you for your concern, admiral."
He listened to the demon ramble on. This might have been a new record of loathing someone.
["I am doing what is required of me, sir. You do not need to owe me anything."] Vunor replied back in said language as he helped Fawnstar to his feet. He looked back towards Mannfred and the new demonic arrival with a frown. ["Stay close to me. Just because it does not attack does not mean it isn't here without malicious intent."] Vunor said as he walked towards Mannfred. He did not trust this entity that has invaded the area, and was very much on his guard, especially with Fawnstar in the area.
Vunor planted his staff on the stone ground as he stared at the admiral intently. "Admiral Mannfred, I suggest we bring Fawnstar to a safer location as quickly as we can. There's no telling how many more accomplices there may be working against us and we should not tarry here longer than we have to."
He quickly glared at the demon, before looking back to Mannfred once more. "And why is this... thing, here?"
---
["Hah! Eat shit, assholes!"] Nita yelled in her native tongue at the burning cultists. She watched intently for a moment, making sure there were no more before focusing quickly back to the fire on the building. She motioned her hands toward the flames on the shutters, before bringing them next to her: "Hyrrá mar hyrroiru."
The spell drew the flames away from the building, summoning them into a form that resembled that of a hound, containing the flames into a single entity. "Go, see if you can find any others nearby." Nita whispered to it, to which it perked up and ran away like any normal dog would. She then walked over to the captain, taking a look at his wound. It certainly looked nasty, but it shouldn't be life threatening at the moment.
"Eh, you'll be fine." she said to Spaghetti before turning to face Jack. "There might be more around here. We should keep moving."
On board the Magpisk, Ephraim concentrated on helming the boat, steering as Lanzo and Dagobert concentrated on getting people out of the water. Gawain meanwhile made sure to keep the survivors in order, with those intimidated by the skeleton (if they were unaware of him, such as would be those from these lands) reassured by Ephraim that Gawain's here to help.
Krantz and Váradi nodded in the marine's direction. "We're fine. Here. Give these back to the Admiral." said Krantz, handing over Mannfred's revolver and the ammunition he didn't use. He also handed off the submachine gun he had got from the drowned marine before.
Váradi, meanwhile, was rubbing his eyes with his fingers. A migraine had set in, caused probably by that demon's presence. Krantz could feel it as well. Was it the tentacles? They were all leveled at everyone's heads after all.
Cattapoli, Gothian Perimeters
The two separate convoys hurried into the bustling activity of the city, now awoken from the terrible inferno which had been set off at the docks by a terrorist attack. Rumors were already fast spreading and fear began to permeate sections of the city no-where near the docks, as other attacks from cultists were thought to be coming. Cattan guards were turning out in force to bring order back to the streets. Most were the visible guardsmen with the light armor and cloaks, but some real soldiers - with shields and heavier plate armor - were appearing at certain locations, such as near the Consulate, a university, the main forum, and a bank. Citizens were also turning out en masse, but while there were just as many going to help put out the fire, there were plenty more who were awake just to see what was happening. A few small cafes had reopened and people soon flocked to these for food and drink.
Torsson's convoy caused some trouble moving into the main avenue which branched off as it got closer to the bay and towards sections of the dock and the bay market. There were hundreds of people out already and seeing the soldiers and their vehicles caused a mixture of alarm, fear, and annoyance. Many people started to crowd around the perimeter, unable to go past or unable to ask what was happening because of the language barrier. Some hurried off to other streets which went around, but many were shouting at the soldiers. It was difficult to tell who wanted to help or who wanted to gawk at the excitement.
Kahleen's convoy settled into the bay market and took up a wider, sparser perimeter to cover a portion of the marketplace. It was a large square surrounded by smaller offshoots, and had dozens of different entrances. Not all entries could be monitored without atleast another convoy, and even then, the movement of the crowd here was far more erratic as it was much closer to the fire fighting efforts. Two more "fire engines" had shown up and were parked in the marketplace, which were simply wagons with massive water barrels on the back, and a hose which was hand pumped by a team of two or four men. Most of the cattan here flat out ignored the Gothian perimeter and slipped through and around if not stopped.
A group of marines and sailors from the Revenant were nearby and directing a portion of the efforts. Most of them had stripped their jackets off and were down to their short-sleeves beneath, which were drenched in sweat or water. The heat from the fire even at this distance was uncomfortable.
One of the men was a marine lieutenant, and his helmet and jacket was still on, though his collar was popped and unbuttoned down to his chest. Soot stained parts of his clothes.
"A cultist rode into the docks with a cart full of oil and kerosene, saying they we're just delivering to the warehouses, apparently. Well they made it into the initial cordon before something went wrong, and the cultist broke the wagon and all the pots fell out and broke. She then tossed a lantern or a torch into the oil and," he just shrugged and gestured at the inferno. "Damn thing went up fast. The pier is concrete, but the smaller docks around it are all wood. Fire is mostly contained right now but a shift in the winds could send it this way into the market."
There was a single gunshot not far away, and the lieutenant frowned. "Some of the Cattan officers wanted our troops to stop any looting, or shoot suspected cultists. We've already shot maybe three or four. These cultists are usually pretty identifiable, they wear a lot of clothes for some reason. That doesn't mean everyone dressed up is a cultist, and it doesn't mean all of them do it either. But keep a closer eye on those that are."
Cattapoli, Alleyway Fight
The smoke from the bombs was thick and hazy, making vision even without a mask difficult. Those men who didn't have their masks fully on suffered the most from the smoke as it was mixed with irritants, causing the eyes to water and burn, along with the throat. Lanterns and torches were the only sources of illumination, and it played hell on everyone in the smoke. The light did little to pierce the haziness, and for some with the gasmasks, vision was further disorientating as they were limited to the eye holes of their masks. Some of the cultists were coughing as well, but they seemed to tolerate the irritants far better than the humans.
There were about two dozen of them in the alleyway, all rushing right out at the humans. Already about seven were down from having been shot, but the casualties for Graves' party was at about four as men were either stabbed while they couldn't see or breath, or were otherwise attacked by two or three Cattan at the same time and stabbed repeatedly.
In these close quarters conditions with poor visibility at night, it made both shooting and stabbing a risky endeavor. A cultist could easily emerge from the haze and be shot by an alert soldier, while a man could look one way and be stabbed in the back without knowing someone was there.
Graves had experience on his side, and he held his ground firmly. Two of the dead cultists were by his hand as he dispatched them as they came rushing through the smoke.
Cattapoli, Nita & Spaghetti
The two burning cultists died fast enough, their bodies fully engulfed in the fire. Nita's spell to draw away all the flame into a singular canine-like entity extinguished their bodies, which were just seared and blackened husks. The little fire-dog ran off to search the surrounding block for more cultists.
All of the commotion here had woken up some of the residents, a number of which were fearfully looking out from windows or rooftops to see what was happening. From down the street, three Cattan guardsmen with lanterns were hurrying over, spears in their hands. They came alongside the party and looked over the bodies, panting from their run.
["We heard the gunshots and came running. We knew it must have been another attack, is everyone here alright?"] One of the guards asked in the native tongue, glancing over the dead human soldiers.
Cattapoli, Magpisk
The waters were rather rough with all the action going on, and plenty of men and Cattan were being pulled up out of the water. Most were a little startled at seeing Gawain, but were too tired to be worried so long as the skeleton was helping. Many of the sailors said nothing except for long strings of foul curses as they wrung out their uniforms. One man had a badly burned arm and was being attended to by some of the other survivors, and it was clear the Magpisk was filling up fast. The Buttero was the closest ship to drop survivors off at, but they'd like have to be moved around again elsewhere and the medical care there was uncertain.
Further out into the bay, a smaller skiff was fast approaching from the direction of Veranhal.
Cattapoli, Dagger Rock
Nodding, the marine took the pistol, ammo, and submachine gun from Krantz but loitered nearby as the admiral spoke with the demon. It didn't seem worthwhile to interrupt him over his revolver.
Mannfred was silent for a moment as the demon spoke to him, rambling on and speaking of timelines. "You place too much faith in reading strings and tethers. You will become a liability if you do not adjust yourself to focus on the present, and I will not tolerate having an unstable danger joining my fleet. We certainly could use more assistance, but my obligation to help you only stems from mutual cooperation," he explained, calmer now. It seemed the vague threats and talk of timelines didn't bother him really at all. "And if you cannot voluntarily alter your appearance to be more human, then I will force it upon you."
The admiral glanced over at Vunor as the shaman approached, and he nodded. "I agree, we need to move soon. I doubt this will be the end to all of the excitement."
He looked back up at the demon. "Make your decision now."
Abyss, Raum's Cathedral
"Stopping Calcifer will be no simple task. There are... numerous potential methods, and with few guarantees," the Messenger said, tapping his pale hand against the ashen table. "First and foremost, you must understand that he is a greater demon. This puts him on a level with gods, but the scale of power is not linear or exact. Either could be stronger or weaker than the other. Regardless - this makes him effectively immortal to most traditional means of killing. I do not doubt that my arrival prompted him to have to explain more than he desired, so if he has spoken about greater demons, I suspect he made it clear that they cannot be killed? A lie, of course, but like all good lies there is some truth to it. The most practical method to dealing with demons of his nature is banishment. You would have to know his real name, which we do - its Calcifer. However... he is unique among his kind in that he has claimed ownership of his name. He has overcome the curse that all demons suffer from, which is that they can never own their name. Its why they can be summoned, bound, and banished. Calcifer broke the bondage forced upon him and became free."
"He is, however, in a weakened state. He's hidden his form and powers well and was invisible to the Ether and Abyss for centuries, until he started making expeditions into the Lost Sea. Silver and other imbued materials will hurt him, naturally, but he'll manage. His facade as a sorcerer will alleviate many questions to members of the armada, I suspect. Clever. The best method I can see to stopping him is simply sabotage and slowing him down. He means to stop Raum before he has fully risen, but once he has, then he should be able to slay or at the very least, somehow banish Calcifer into the Abyss. Of course... I do not doubt that Calcifer is well aware of your antics, Sabine. He's keeping an eye on you because he can see you. If he were to remove you, then he wouldn't know where to look until signs of corruption, as they all call it, appear again. Use that to your advantage, but I warn you - don't force his hand. He will do whatever is necessary. You don't know just how ruthless he can be."
The very air rippled in a state of a flux at the admiral's demands and criticism, perhaps that was the closest this creature could come to laughing. Nevertheless it was no less uncomfortable or unpleasant, each wave battering the people around him with a pounding pressure that stung at the sides of their heads and rushed to the back. Yet soon it faded and calmed down, all of the trained tentacles withdrawing to a limp state as they hung out of his back and slithered against the ground. The nausea and headaches were fading, leaving only that slight gnawing feeling registering in their brains. The demon steeples his fingers, tapping the tips together gently as he slowly lowers his hover to ground level, preparing to speak.
"Faith? It is inaccurate to say that I rely on faith. It is a concept lacking in research, one built of hopeful dreams and vague assumptions. Like you, I rely purely on knowledge... sorcerer." he says with yet another purposeful hesitation. "My mind is advanced, beyond the comprehension of yourself, beyond the understanding of my own being to certain degrees. What I see is not entrenched in faith, but fate - destiny and fate are tools that I can wield and shepard to the proper outcomes. Such a task is simple once all of the tools are obtained, yes? You and your crew are but one piece of the complex puzzle." The demon's feet touch the ground, though there is a slight issue of balance as he wobbles from side to side just a bit. Has he never walked before.
"As yet another proverbial olive branch, I will heed your orders once more. I have been an asset to many, and you'll find I am more than capable of proving my worth." he says, prying his fingers apart and putting his hands to his sides, arms bent at the elbows as they remain above his midsection. "I do have a solution, and it shall not require input from your no doubt incredible powers." With that utterance all of his tentacles dragged themselves off of the floor, reeling in to curl behind him before forcefully embedding their ends into his back like a series of tubes in a machine, slotting inside and curved between both ends. The air around him began to ripple, a strange warmth starting to be felt in all of the prying eyes and confused minds gazing at his garish form. "While my form is difficult to manipulate and contain - your minds prove much more malleable." There was a sudden implosion of the air around him, from his back sections of flesh separated into gruesome ribbons materialized and started to coat his body entirely, the robes seemingly grafted to his form dissipating in burning blue embers. The skin continued to envelop him, the features of a face starting to push out of the flat and pale surface of his masked head. Meticulously yet rapidly, a set of Victorian clothing wove itself around his bare flesh stitch by stitch, strands of hair emerging from his scalp. In a mere matter of seconds he had taken the appearance of a middle-aged scholar, flicking out a pair of round spectacles from his sleeve as he put them on.
"There." he said, his speech normalized to one voice and his lips mouthing along with it. To the uninitiated he would appear to actually be speaking, the illusion so great their brains tricked into associating direction and origin to the words in their heads. The voice itself fit the body he was portraying, at least, but there was a certain raspy tone to his voice that gave a certain alien appeal to his speech. "A rather archaic memory adapted to the waking world of today, yes? Is this serviceable, dear admiral?"
Vunor scratched his chin roughly. "The consulate guard is compromised, we don't know how many more throw their allegiance with the cultists. The city is none safer as well as of
right now, if I were to guess." Vunor stated bluntly. "Perhaps we can use one of your vessels for shelter? Temporarily, of course." Vunor asked of the admiral and to the captains in the vicinity.
---
["Yes, we're fine. Bastards tried to intimidate us."] Nita replied. She looked up to see residents in the area observing the situation, unsure of what is happening here. ["Everything is under control! Stay in your homes and lock yourselves in for the time being!"] she yelled to the people above. ["We're trying to get to Dagger Rock. The Consul's been taken hostage there by traitors and cultists. Can you help us get this blockade out of the way?"] she explained to the guards as she turned back to them.
Kahleen nodded. "Understood lieutenant. We'll try to cordon off the area as best we can." After returning to her soldiers Kahleen issued the order to engage looters. She also authorized lethal force against threats to the Gothian vehicles.
As the radio operator inside the jeep got to work Kahleen gathered the others. "We'll cordon off this area the best we can. We will work in pairs. Anyone not carrying a bucket or wearing a guardsman uniform is to be stopped from entering. The last thing we need is more bodies incase those cultists return with a bigger bomb. Move out."
The soldiers nodded and paired up. Soon they were spreading out around the market edge. It wasn't airtight but at least it would give them some control. Kahleen, accompanied by marksman Dahl, moved about to supervise incase there were any stubborn locals.
---
Back on the main avenue the Gothians grew increasingly nervous as the cityfolk more or less surrounded them. Torsson grunted. "Fucking civilians." He gestured at the vehicle gunners. "Use the spotlights!"
Soon the gunners turned ln their powerful spotlights and directed them at the surrounding civilians. Torsson started to yell. "Military business! For your own safety please remain indoors!"
"Graves, there are too many of them!" One of the company men yelled out as he fired into a cloud of smoke. He saw a shadow and took a gamble. Let the gods decide if he was right. "We're getting fucked over here!"
Graves took another shot at a cultist. His man was right. If they stayed here for too long, they were going to get overrun. But they didn't have to stay in one spot.
"Together now! Back to back! We're leaving this alley!" The company men began to group up together. Most watching the front where the cultists were, some observing the flanks and others looking at the back. They began to move out of alley. "Keep your wits sharp, this is far from over." He wondered if the sound of gunfire had attracted the attention of the guards and Manfred's men. If not, he had one final idea on how to do so if needed. He glanced down to his belt and breathed a minor sigh of relief. The flare gun was still there.
"You make it sound as if we don't have a plan beyond waiting and delaying," Fallensteller replied, still recovering from the vision. "And if Mannfred, or Calcifer as I should say, is truly aware of my progress then I might as well be moot. If I oppose him, I'll be destroyed. If I quietly attempt to gather strength, sooner or later, the same result. The only course of action left on the table is to send other actors in my place." She wiped the last trickle of blood away from her nose. "How do I have anything left to bleed after all that..." she remarked to herself with a cynical sense of humor. "I'll get to work immediately."
Tobey raised an eyebrow as Andria mentioned sorcery. "in what ways, exactly, can they be used for sorcery?" he asked, with a more neutral face and continued curiosity.
When the fight drew to a close, Jack marched over to Spaghetti and hauled him up to his feet, making sure to steady his employer. "Careful now. Looks like a painful nick. Little pricks probably had their daggers laced with poison." Spaghetti grabbed Jack's hand to calm himself, to stop the shaking. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a bottle filled with alcohol. "Sumptuous work, simply magnificent. You and the cow, you make a good team. Perhaps act a little quicker next time, I've never been a fan of agonizing death." Spaghetti uncorked the bottle and poured the clear fluid onto his chest wound, taking a sharp breath in when it touched flesh. He glanced over to the guardsmen as they came running in- but Spaghetti caught a glimpse of the charred corpses and clenched his hands, unable to look at them for more than a second. "I... Don't mind me, dear Lorimer." He pushed Jack away unusually cold, heading back towards the carriage to collect his guns and rest for a bit, but not before tipping his hat to Nita. "When you're ready, heifer."
Jack looked towards the corpses of his men, slain before they could react, then towards the dead cultists. His expressed changed to a snarl- rather than speak to the guards, he went over to the one of the husks and stamped on its brittle head. "Shame I couldn't snuff you out myself." He spat on the corpse and ventured over to his own men, intent on whipping them into shape in case of another ambush.
---
Yves took in Margaretta's words as if they came from a parent- he couldn't help but grin, when she spoke. He raised an eyebrow when she mentioned Farryn with trepidation, and his smile faded when she showed some fear towards the dead god.
"He is nearby. Une petite partie, at least. My admiral owns his skull. It his how he summons him to life." He clasped her arm gently. "I'm sorry, I did not know he had such a reputation." He looked down to think for a second, furrowing his brow as he did. "Maybe Mannfred shouldn't know of you. He is a blood sorcerer, something terribly powerful. I've seen some of it. I've watched him die and come back to life, I've seen him battle with magnificent magic, yet... yet it seems that he uses it for good, rather then to damn the world. But who knows what they will do to us. To you..." He could feel himself squeezing Margaretta tightly as he spoke. He released her arm and paced around her, putting a hand up to the blank canvas where she appeared through and tracing his finger downwards.
"We're some distance into the Lost Sea, my lady. Raum is intent on claiming all of us. From what I've come to learn, we stand on the precipice of great change, and what we do here may be written into history, for good or for bad. This sea is his domain, and if I'm right, we're heading towards the heart of it. I cannot fathom what we will find there." Yves turned to her again when she mentioned gods and demons, interest piqued by the power that was coming back to her.
"You can sense others? Gods and demons. What kind of demons...?"
Krantz and Váradi watched the new demon shapeshift, changing itself to mimic a male Victorian scholar. Disturbing, to say the least, but at least the tentacles and headaches were gone.
Cattapoli, Dagger Rock
The admiral quietly listened to the demon's philosophical speech, his eye examining the creature as it transformed itself and continued talking on. His earlier anger had subsided into visible weariness and he was starting to look somewhat uncomfortable - either from how he was feeling or the situation itself, it wasn't exactly clear. Perhaps both.
"Faith can be useful in the absence of knowledge, but when one substitutes faith for knowledge then trouble begins to arise. I've seen that more than enough," he said lightly. "You say you can see many threads and futures, yet we both know they are ever changing. Putting too much trust into any of those threads is the same as putting faith into an entity of uncertain design. Outcomes are expected at various probabilities, and people look to the most probable for what will occur. That's faith."
Once the demon had transformed fully, Mannfred nodded. "Quite serviceable, demon. All thats left to provide... is your name."
When Vunor spoke up beside him, the admiral was silent for a second before nodding again. "That can easily be arranged, though I wonder how the city will feel seeing the Consul retreat to the safety of one of our vessels. It may be wiser to maintain the consulate and have him return there. More troops can be dispatched."
Cattapoli, Nita & Spaghetti
Nita called out to the curious civilians, and some ducked back into the houses while others continued to peek cautiously at the people outside from behind their curtains. Already a few houses were illuminated by lanterns and candles now as the occupants were unable to go to sleep.
The guards beside Nita motioned for some of the other soldiers to help them, and the group began to push the cart out of the street. It was a larger cart - a stone mason cart again, actually - with a sturdy reinforced wooden bed and large broad wheels. They were unwieldy when used on dirt roads and were mostly only used within the city, while smaller carts had to be used in the countryside. In some places where these large carts were frequent, ruts had been rubbed down into the cobble and stone streets. It took only a minute to move the cart out of the way and into a side alley, but it was exhausting once finished.
["Good luck to you folk, then. I hope the Consul makes it out alright,"] the guard said to Nita, stepping aside so they could get moving again.
Once all the humans were back in the cart they'd be able to get back on the road and carry on. The two bodies of the soldiers left behind were in the custody of the guards now. While riding through the city, the distant sounds of a gunfight was audible.
Cattapoli, Alleyway Fight
Graves' ruffians fumbled through the smoke and haze to group together, keeping their backs covered by each other. Figures darted around in the smoke and it was hard to tell friend from foe at times. The night time mixed with lantern glare in smoke was a nightmare for visibility. A few more humans were snatched away by claws and stabbed while they were pulled down, but more beastfolk were going down now as the humans formed together. The cultists had the numbers in the close quarters yet as time carried on, their bodies started to pile up as the guns wrought a heavy toll. The initial charge and surprise of the smoke and irritants had carried them to a promising start. Now they were faltering.
A heavier rifle fired at the opposite end of the alleyway. It was followed by shouting of other humans, and another heavier rifle fired again. The slow rate of fire and the distinctive thump of the report revealed the guns to be Marian rifles. Inevitably, the gunfight several blocks from the consulate had attracted attention.
Still, the cultists continued to fight on, though some started to run when more soldiers showed up. A few were dashing up walls and climbing into windows to escape.
Cattapoli, Gothian Perimeters
The marketplace was still a flurry of commotion as night seemed to turn to day. Dock workers were shouting and heading for various piers and docks, working to move important freight away from the fire while fishermen rushed to their small vessels to free them. For some, these little wooden boats were their livelihood, and a number risked the flames to make it to their fishing boats. More casualties had been brought from the fire and about three dozen humans and cattan were laid out in a triage area, all suffering from various burns. Some were conscious and groaning in pain, while others were eerily silent. Medics and volunteers were attending to them to the best of their abilities. Fortunately for the Old World soldiers, burns weren't an uncommon wound to deal with. For those who had seen flame throwers in action during the end of the Colonial War, the sight of many burn victims was chilling. The smell was sickening.
Kahleen and Dahl came across some angry locals who wanted to cross the defense line and go to their stores further into the market that was closer to the fire, which by now was starting to slowly break containment and creep closer.
---
The large spotlights on the vehicles irritated some of the Cattan, who threw their arms up in alarm and shielded themselves from the harsh industrial light. Not many could hear what Torsson said, and less knew the language well enough to translate it. A few chattered to those near them and some began to leave to find other ways around, but it seemed a small crowd had formed just to cause a ruckus.
Veranhal, Mariner's Boon
"Ryza's Tears are imbued objects. They have... potential, is the word I think, to help strengthen magic. They store energy. Some spells can be made stronger when channeled with a Tear, and sometimes magic can be drawn directly from them and not the Ether around us. That means mages who can nullify the Ether can't easily nullify these Tears because the magic is coming from the objects, not the air itself," Andria explained. It was hard to exactly pinpoint what these Tears were by her description, but they sounded almost like magical batteries, in a way. They could possibly make spells stronger, and could cast some magic even if the source for casting was cut off.
"They can be... discrete. Non-sorcerers can sometimes cast with them, so long as the Tears still have essence. Instead of needing a trained mage, you can have a weak mage instantly for as long as the Tears last. Its not a very long time though, unless you have more."
Cattapoli, Problem Child
The canvas Yves touched again felt familiar, but it lacked life anymore. All canvases had a somewhat rough feel to them so that the paint could settle into the fabric, but this one was a little smoother than usual. It felt like a canvas, but it lacked... spirit. A strange feeling that only a painter who was intimate with the brush and canvas could recognize. It would be noticeable like the difference of painting on brick compared to tile. Similar objects to most people, but subtlety different to those who knew.
Margaretta crossed her legs on the floor and rested her hands in her lap as she watched Yves walk and pace around.
"Yes, I can sense some. Its like I can smell, see, and hear again. I can sense... a few demons, yes," she nodded as she closed her eyes as if in thought. Her earrings jingled lightly as she tilted her head back.
"Some on the islands, spread out. That seems normal to me. They've always lived among mortals if possible. There is a stronger one further away at the very edge of my senses, a..." he copper-skinned face blushed slightly. "... succubus, I think. Its very faint. But she is recent to arriving here, like me. She stands out just enough but I suspect I won't be able to see her in a day when the aura weakens. Right now the air looks all excited, as it does here, but that fades in time."
"There are a couple in the water, I think? Or on boats. I cannot tell easily. There is... a stronger one. No... no, two stronger ones on land! Not very far away. One is like... the sun, trapped in a cage. The other is like a steady candle. They are very near each other. Everything I can sense is weaker than these two, but that doesn't mean they aren't strong as well."
Raum's Cathedral
The Messenger looked a little more intently at Fallensteller. "You are fast to assume. Perhaps my perspective has slowed down from remaining here for so long, and I have forgotten that mortals are so quick and prone to rash judgement. The folly of youth, I suppose. There are many plans, Sabine, and much to say. But where we all currently stand, it is difficult to say which plan to pursue. Simply because I say it may be best to delay Calcifer and wait for our master does not mean we will be idle, but it is a safer method certainly. If you were to go up against him and lose, then we lose our most valuable servant in the mortal realm. Calcifer would be free to advance with little to hold him back until our few assets can be adjusted. Prematurely pursuing the incorrect plan could yield unfortunate and disastrous results."
He was silent for a moment to allow her to think this over before continuing.
"There is a place known as Kadesh. It is a large island with a scattering of smaller ones around it. There live remnants of the Ardeni, ancient humans who survived the war and live on only as the Kadeshi. These people maintain their worship to Raum through porxy by putting their allegiance into idols and their spiritual leaders. Greed, lust, and power have of course corrupted them so that they are not true followers, but their religion still serves our purposes. In their possession are some artifacts that have guided their existence and facilitate their religion. One such object is a goblet, known to them simply as the Divine Chalice. Drinking from this goblet has assuaged their souls and minds, making them most susceptible to the... motivational efforts I have sent their way. Simply said, they are pawns. A civilization of pawns."
"If the admiral goes to these islands, as I suspect he might, then you should seek out the Sun Spear. Is is a curious device, a series of lenses which focuses the light of the sun and magnifies it. The Sun Spear is enhanced by magical properties and items. The metal which holds the lenses has been tempered from meteorites, rocks which have braved the expanse of space and have fallen here on this world. Silvered mirrors assist in the reflecting of the light, and a series of crystals help focus it. It is a potent weapon, but the Kadeshi of course do not know this. The Sun Spear rests atop one of the mountain peaks of the island in a place known as the "Sol Tak'andar" or Star Nursery in their language. It is a temple of sorts, one which studies the heavens and sky above. The Sun Spear was there long before they came to settle the island, but they see the location as holy. I have kept them from destroying it and so they protect it."
"The Sun Spear cannot be moved, as its size is far too great. It is mounted upon the ground and the temple it resides in. However, that does not mean it is useless. If these peculiar lenses were focused upon a god... or a greater demon... then some significant damage could be dealt upon them. Permanent damage. It is unlikely they would be fatal but one can hope. If you come upon this island, then you will do well to secure this device. It can be rotated and turned on these gears which allow one to focus it in almost any direction desired, including down upon the capital city and surrounding countryside. There are also lenses within the temple which help one see far away, though I suspect you already know of these devices. Telescopes."
"A potent weapon which can strike from afar. At the very least if it does not kill or seriously wound him, it may force his carefully crafted disguise to be burned away," the Messenger laughed, his voice like sandpaper. "A secret like that once revealed will undoubtedly yield curious results, I would think."
"Regardless, you credit him for knowing too much and being capable of even more. He is strong, certainly, and he is intelligent, that is also certain. He is also cautious, deceiving, and arrogant. He cares far too much about those he holds dear to him, which can also be used against him. He projects callousness to hide his true feelings, if he even has such things anymore. You also must understand the nature of detection in the sense I speak of it. The Ether, which makes up all things sorcerous, appears to demons like light in darkness. The gift you have allows you to see the surface, auras and energies which permeate objects. For demons and gods, it is as obvious as a candle in the blackest depths of a cave. A sacrifice as you have done before would appear like burning embers. It is not particularly notable. It is easy to overlook, and even when spotted it can be difficult to pinpoint. I return to my example - a candle in a cave is easily seen, but how easily can you judge its distance or what is between you and it? Is it flat ground? A hidden chasm perhaps? Maybe the candle is a reflection from an unseen source."
"With experience it becomes easier to judge these things. Calcifer already has reason to suspect you after our first meeting on the mortal plane, but he will not act unless you do something truly dire - summoning powerful demons of your own, for example, would draw his attention easily. Though you can very likely summon lesser creatures. Not all at once, mind you, but over time perhaps. Your home, your Zuflucht, is already permeated and shielded by the ambience of your practices and objects. It shields you as readily as it reveals there is some connection to the Ether. And yet that alone is not necessarily damning evidence. Calcifer sees the world differently from us, just as you see it differently from other humans. All perceive things differently. The Ether is an infinite existence. It can be interpreted in many different ways. You may think your ship having an aura is evidence of your association to Raum - to Calcifer, it may simply be residue from any number of things. Contamination from the Lost Sea itself? From other demons? The gods which are near his fleet? The mind and soul of a mortal influences the Ether around them, Sabine. A lot of scared people in one place can stir things up, so to speak. For the living, emotion is a natural strength and weakness."
"If there admiral is not traveling to Kadesh, then you should inform me. I know not know every location he intends to travel to. But if you keep me informed of your travels, his actions, and things which occur, then there is much I should be able to reveal to you. His wards and protections are focused against myself and Raum. You are our bridge, Sabine. Dreams can easily pierce such barriers, but dreams do not always reveal what is needed - nor are they always entirely accurate. Imagine a dream as a traveler. They set off pristine from home, and may arrive weary and ragged at their destination. To influence dreams in a place such as the Lost Sea is no simple feat. Contacting you in such a fashion may be inefficient, but a sacrifice, for example, would strengthen our connection temporarily. Souls make excellent sources of energy and power."
The scholarly demon crosses his arms behind his back, face showing no expression and unblinking as he stares on at him. It was clear that he was not familiarized with what makes humans appear more human other than on the surface level. What reason would he have to concern himself with such trivial details? In truth he was rather annoyed that he would have to take such precautions for the sake of the admiral and his precious crew. If they were not prepared to be enlightened by his form they had no business being on this voyage, or even in this region for that matter. Regardless, he would bite his nonexistent tongue for now, for there was much to plan and postulate now that he had gained his spectator position in the fleet.
"Oh, you needn't give me a lecture on that. Time can indeed be fickle, but the threads and strands I see are finely woven, interlaced in a map that I have been actively deciphering." he states, standing stiff and motionless in that pose he had chosen. The illusion he had created was simply an image projected over his true form, something he had carefully implanted into each and every mind around him, and would continue to place in new minds that would come in his vicinity. "There are certainly outcomes and timelines that I would personally like to see more than the others, but I am not too attached to any of them, as there is often better opportunities for manipulation or favorable outcomes waiting along the way." the demon finishes explaining, just as a name is asked of him.
"My name? Mmh, yes. A rather necessary convenience given for the purposes of clearer and more express communication, right. Yet there are certain dangers to giving it so freely, I am sure." he deliberates, hand moving up to his chin to tap it with a finger. Was this sorcerer asking for his true name? He could tell his alien nature from the start, perhaps he was hoping for there to be a certain amount of ignorance to go with that alien nature. Fortunately he didn't need to look into the future to understand what would happen if he were to give it to the admiral, and him passing it out willingly was an astronomically low chance. He would not be bowing to anyone anytime soon. "This is not my first expedition into your realm, so I will simply use what I have been called by in the past. You may refer to me as Therasmus."
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