Ebeli Quest: How to Manage your Plot Devices and Save Creation

[GreggHL]

[X]Get Autochthon out of Elsewhere

Join Battle:
(Ebeli, 10 dice, 6 successes)


Everything is silent, calm and still. The desert itself seems to hold its breath, as Ligier laughs, drawing from his scabbard the simple brass daiklave. It flares out with emerald flame and it curves, lengthens. The filigree of fire trails it and the hilt itself doubles in length, going from simple daiklaive to grand daiklave in an eyeblink.

He raises it with one hand and points it at the old master. The Crucible of Brass and Iron does not react. The Blood Apes bow their heads, honoring the presence of the greatest weapon in all existence.

"You honor me with this combat, Crucible. We are kin, and fellow souls of the Demon Emperor. A greater opponent than a circle of Celestial Exalted, and they compare to you as mortals compare to them." Flame works its way up the blade, writing glyphs in Old Realm. "To nobility!"

"To victory," the old man says.

Oh that doesn't sound good. You take a step back, behind Sky. "Let us battle, Suntarankal. My sublime work against your martial arts." He takes the sword, and holds it at attention like a fencer's blade. "Behold! The Sword of the Yozi!"

"Behold."

The old man seems to flicker with a halo of brass forming behind him, and appears in a lunge directly in front of Ligier.

"Four Halo Golden Monkey Palm."

The speed at which he strikes means that you see it hit after it actually does. But it does- the old man's fist strikes with supernal precision at the root of Ligier's valor.

Which is to say, his crotch. The impact rocks the boat. Ligier lets out a sound you had not yet heard before, am not sure anyone had heard before. His eyes cross and for a brief moment, the grip on his fabled sword loosens.

"Dirty pool," Ligier says.

"All fair," Suntarankal responds, before flipping into a kick to Ligier's jaw. Ligier launches into the sky and Suntarankal follows.

Then the blood apes roar, Hatachi roars louder, and the demons charge onto the ship with their weapons drawn.

"Ebeli!" Sky slams his foot down onto the plank in front of him. The plants fly up, sending two of the charging blood apes into the air, back into their kin. "Can you banish them?"

"If I do they'll appear instantly," you respond, hands on his shoulders, "I can't banish the Hellstrider, it's not actually a demon per-se. If they appear instantly they can spread word about what we're doing and we'll lose the element of surprise!"

"Kill them all?"

"Except Hatachi?" you say with a shrug.

Then Ray descends upon them, having climbed up the mast to gain a vantage point, her starmetal claws blocked by her sister's blade. Another swing and her sister becomes wind, the swing passing through her, lopping off a blood ape's aim when it goes wide.

Sky swings and the railings on the side of the deck break. Several of the blood apes go flying back onto their ship, their armor scored, one disintegrating as its material form gives up the ghost.

You turn the dial on the brass bracelet on your left wrist and tap the glowing nimbus of white essence and shout,

"Get out here!"

It takes a brief moment. A single tick.

Then a burst of lightning opens into antitime and nonspace, and with complete nonchalance the brass encounter suit steps out. Nonphysics and unlight wafts off the metal, and the facet eyes turn to you with a glance.

"Yes?"

"We're being attacked by blood ape sand pirates lead by an Infernal. They have a Hellstrider."

The facet eyes rotate.

"An Infernal? What is that?"

Okay. You weren't expecting that?

"You had those in the Orrery?"

"The Orrery has been running on a predictive model for the past five millenia, give or take a century due to the Time of Cascading Years. I should return to the Primal Forge at some point though to check on further project-"

"They have a Construct!" Hatachi yells, "Hellstrider! Fuck it up!"

The hellstrider roars, leaps over between the boats and charges you. You duck behind Autochthon, as he is eight feet tall and made of metal, and he turns just as the powered oscillator bears down on him. Then unravels, the vitriol treated metal unfurling like a ribbon and falling to the deck.

"Attacking me with technology? Well aren't you precious." He waves his hand. The essence lance on its left arm sparks and drops to the deck. "No. None of that either. And what's this? A pilot? Not anymore."

The chest opens and the blood ape launches with a yell, probably landing somewhere in the desert near Florivet. More armor falls off the hellstrider, servos and magitech and artifacts and sensors. "This is a remarkable amount of technology you've fitted this with! I must say, I would mistake this for a warstrider at first glance and hm yes wait is this a demon? And what is this?"

Something yanks out of the back of the hellstrider's neck, floating over to the Great Maker's hand. A brass, fitted set of spikes with vitriol etching.

"Ah. An Inhibitor."

Then the Hellstrider- or, the giant demon that was converted into a hellstrider- roars, grabs Autochthon by the ankle, and begins slamming him again and again against the deck. You backed out of the way before so you could avoid being pulped.

The battle itself goes silent save for the sounds of the wood and glass bone deck of the ship snapping under the weight of the brass encounter suit. At least until Sky sweeps by and with a flash of his sword cleaves the monster's head from its body. The encounter suit drops into the crater on the deck, the bone and wood snapping back into place as steam wheezes out of the joints.

"Great Maker!" Sky runs over and helps the encounter suit up. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes, this is fine. I am unhurt." You then look up. The blood apes stare at you, as one.

"The Great Maker," one Blood Ape asks.

"Autochthon has returned?" another asks.

You and Sky step aside. Autochthon extends an arm. "Yes. Demons! Kneel before me, for I have returned! I, primordial! I, the King of All Craftsmen! I, who-"

"FUCK HIM UP!" And the Blood Apes charge.

As one, two dozen blood apes pile on the encounter suits, dragging him down and kicking him with artifact boots, whacking him with artifact maces and gauntlets.

"No! No! Unhand me! Stop hitting me!" Sky levels his blade and begins blasting them with holy sword beams. You begin shaping Light of Solar Cleansing while the Blood Apes focus on the encounter suit.

"Get your filthy paws off me you DAMNED BLOODY APES!"

You let loose the spell and the rest of them burn away. The deck of the ship itself cracks and bleaches and the ship itself groans. It may require some repairs, you realize with a sigh. Autochthon lifts himself up from the deck, visibly dented, breathing eternal vengeance on every blood ape he sees.

Then you hear a sound much like a steam engine pouring up. You recognize it- your own essence sight picks up the tell tale signs of the overwhelming excellency of the Black Boar.

"Oh no," Autochthon breathes.

"Oh yeah!" Hatachi yells, and barreling past you, slams Autochthon head first into the deck with a perfectly executed flying suplex. Head and shoulders buried into the deck, the hands and feet of the encounter suit twitch. Hatachi flips back up and pumps her fists. "Another victory for the Reclamation!"

And then Ray appears out of nowhere and knocks her sister unconscious with a punch to the back of the head.

[ ]Check up on the fight between Suntarankal and Ligier.

[ ]Interrogate Hatachi.

[ ]Make sure Autochthon isn't too pissed.

[ ]Write in.

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Make sure Autochthon isn't too pissed.
-[X]Introduce him to the concept of Infernals and the Orrery type Alchemicals/Penitent Star.


Ray hefts up her sister and carries her down into the hold. You and Sky grunt, hefting the encounter suit out of the deck, and Sky places his hand on the suit itself. The dents hammer themselves out, the loose facet eye fixes itself back into place, and the varied scratches and scores from the two dozen blood apes getting cheap shots in on him disappear.

"I've been learning craft charms," he says with a shrug.

You both help the encounter suit up. "Are you angry?" you ask.

Might as well get the important parts out of the way first. Last time the Great Maker got angry, Creation ended up with the Underworld. I mean, what's the worst he can do? But you know what the worst he can do is. Make seven hundred unstoppable superweapons that drop a continent into the Wyld for shits and giggles.

"Absolutely livid." The facet eyes rotate. "However, I shall put this towards constructive use."

He begins walking towards the door to the hold. You nod to Sky, and he places his hand on the deck to fix the damage. At least that will save you the headache of Florivet coming back to a wrecked ship.

You follow Autochthon into the hold. Ray has Hatachi tied up to one of the support beams and is smacking health back into her sister. At the center of the hold, Shell sits in lotus position, the distorting field of her magic masking her presence, and more importantly Ruvelia's.

Homkora gives you both a wary glance, her whip sword out.

"So," you say, gesturing at Hatachi, "Hatachi is an Infernal Exalted. Please don't dissect her or vivisect her, because she's Ray's sister."

The encounter suit stares at her for long moments. The facet eyes flicker, registering new colors. "Interesting. And clever, I will admit as much."

He turns back to you, then walks over to a table in the hold. "The Exaltations can potentially host Primordial charms. During the war, they did not because Gaia was officially neutral, and the nature of the Incarnae are not completely compatible with Primordial. Hence needing further charm architecture for a Solar Exalted to learn Primordial. Save maybe the Eclipse."

You nod, leaning against the table. "The Orrery had Infernals. We brought one with us. His charms are a version of Theion's."

Autochthon nods. "Definitely possible. As I said, it was a predictive model. I am not enthused by the prospect of my kin once again re-purposing my inventions but I am being constructive in my anger."

"Ebeli." Shell raises a hand. "If the Great Maker was going to act in anger, he would just force me to deactivate the field that's masking myself and Ruvelia."

You turn from Shell to Autochthon. "But Cecelyne would already know you're here."

"Cecelyne is apathetic to my presence. The return of Ruvelia would gain the interest of most, if not all the Yozi. However, like I said, I am being constructive in my anger. I am attempting to work outside my themes. I am not very good at it, however."

He turns back to the workbench and draws two objects out of Elsewhere. One is a bracelet made out of fine, worked brass. Filigrees of emerald run through the band, weaving essence through it. Autochthon picks it up, and walks over to Ruvelia.

"This is a collaboration between myself of Ligier, from the Times of Primordial Glory. A predecessor to the Exaltations in thematic, if not in deed."

He hands her the bracelet. She accepts it with a smile, placing it on her wrist. "It is wonderfully crafted, Great Maker. What does it do?"

"To those attuned to it, their essence will register to those that view such things as that of the Green Sun."

She smiles, placing her hand on his. "Thank you."

He walks back to the workbench and picks up the other item. A brass sphere, with a crystal set in the front. White essence glows at its heart, and two handles, just big enough for your hands, flank the open core. It also rotates or maybe its shadow does when you look at it. Like other inventions made directly by him, it seems to always be a particular shape or direction, never changing by such things as people moving it.

"This is for you," he says, "I am not a combatant. This will alleviate that. It does not require attunement. Open it and it will summon a powerful machine spirit to your side that will aid you."

You pick it up. Already you can feel the electricity off of it, the purity of its essence. "Thank you."

Autochthon nods. "I will return to Elsewhere."

With a flash of lightning, he's gone. You walk over and nod. Ray whaps her sister on the head, and the tied up Hatachi wakes up.

"My boys all gets shots in on Autochthon?"

You nod.

A single, proud tear runs down the Infernal's cheek. "They are going to get so much demon pussy when they pop back up."

"Glad to see you're priorities are straight." You click your tongue. "What's the Reclamation?"

"It's how the Ebon Dragon maintains an erection nowadays." Oh you did not need that image. "More or less like, six or seven of the Yozi metaphysically getting into a circle and sort of working each other for some reason. You know, bopping, twisting, friction. They want to get out but, you know, day that's named after an Incarnae."

You rub the bridge of your nose. "Do you report to any of them?"

"Adorjan. She don't care. Isidoros. He don't care. Kinda work for the Ebon Dragon but I don't, cause the best thing to do when dealing with the Ebon Dragon's to not deal with the Ebon Dragon?"

You nod. "Right. We'll talk later." Ray then bops her on the head again to knock her back out.

You walk up to the deck, followed by the others. Your Sorcerer's Sight tells you that yes, Ruvelia's own essence now registers as the Green Sun. Saves some trouble down the line but you realize that you'll have to make sure she doesn't lose that bracelet.

"So Suntarankal is fighting Ligier," Homkora says, "And Ligier did not open up with green fire?"

Wait. Yeah. That is odd.

The answer comes in the form of the night sky igniting with green flame. "I'd say that he was waiting to put some distance between us and him."

Green flame trails down, further down. It hits the sand like a comet some hundred yards before you, sending a geyser of molten glass into the sky. It rains down but a wave of Homkora's hand turns it into a translucent dome, and you hear the faint pings of the glass drops.

In the distance, you can see the two- Ligier, with his sword, and the Crucible of Brass and Iron holding a blackened, wooden staff.

[ ]Fight by Ligier's side.

[ ]Let Ligier deal with the Crucible.

[ ]Write in.

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Where the Hell did you leave the popcorn? You know you had some prepared?


Academically, you know conflicts between Third Circle Demons involve armies, infrastructure. They are less physical conflicts and more aspects of a Yozi's personality coming into direct competition with each other for dominance. A Yozi does not decide. Instead, choices arm themselves with arguments, and battle it out until only the strongest is left standing in an arena of fire.

That is academic, however. You've never seen two Third Circle Demons engaging in an actual battle before- without servants, without infrastructure, without anything but their own personal powers, and you absently bring the popcorn to your mouth while you watch. The dome of cecelyne glass provides a safe zone for everyone to watch, and the steps of the deck provide ample seating.

Through the flame and fire, you see the Crucible weaving through blades, twisting himself through old martial arts charms which you have no name for. You see silhouettes and after shadows, forms through the flame of the sword and wielder and the staff and its master.

You still understand that, for the sake of this contest, both of them are holding back.

The flame for a moment clears. You watch the old master dart forward, twisting himself around a lance of viridian fire. Where there was one Suntarankal, you can see many. You see ghostly chains trailing him. You see him moving like a mantis going for the kill. See him striking like an uncoiling snake.

Each strike, the sword parries. To the Crucible's credit, you can see visible effort on Ligier's brow. A faint crease that shows he is trying- perhaps more than he lets on.

Suntarankal hops back. Infernal essense flows into him, and his form becomes a hulking, darkened beast. Leaping towards Ligier, he hammers down blows upon the Green Sun. The impact shakes the ship and sends sand flying up in a storm around them, obscuring your view of the battle. Impact after impact shakes the ground beneath, followed by the sound of brass upon flesh.

Then the flame clears. Several paces from each other, the two demons stand. Ligier sheathes his sword, and Suntarankal idly examines his nails.

"An excellent match, Lord Ligier."

"Indeed, Master Suntarankal. It has been too long since I have been so tested."

The old master nods. "So what are you hiding?"

Suntarankal folds his hands inside his billowing sleeves. "I observed as much when we fought. You purposely allowed me to connect two blows to your person to launch us both away from the ship; and the Sorcerer you have been bound to. You waited until we were away before unleashing your flame."

Ligier nods. "Correct on both counts."

"Both uncharacteristic of you. You never hold back to such degrees. Honor is too important for you." The eyes of the old master wander to the boat. "So you are hiding something. Or some one."

Then Ligier extends his hand at Suntarankal and the world goes white. You don't see the flame incinerate Suntarankal's human form. You don't see anything at all. But all of you, save Ruvelia, yell out at the sudden burst of light and heat that turns the sand from where they stand to where the boat rests to blue glass.

When your vision clears, Ligier has made his way back to the boat.

"It will take him some time to re-form his humanoid avatar," he explains, walking up the gangplank, "He will be owed apologies."

Quizzically, he stares at Ruvelia. Then glances at the bracelet, and nods in approval. "A collaboration."

"Indeed," she says, "Though, if Malfeas himself lays eyes upon me I do not know what deception it will manage."

"We will avoid him where we can," you say, climbing to your feet, "Someone should get Florivet? Then we should continue."



It takes five days to travel the Endless Desert. Even the Great Maker cannot get around that, and well he wouldn't because he helped establish that in the first place. There were no further interruptions, and the remaining three days were spent studying the artifact Autochthon handed you, as well as interrogating Hatachi about her employers.

Which may be a complication, as her declaring a 'Victory for the Reclamation' was technically a prayer, but most of the Yozi she works for are apathetic or insane and won't be a bother. You would keep on guard, though.

The artifact that Autochthon handed you was a powerful one, but had a very specific purpose. From observing it, it seemed to have two particular properties:

First, it would always be observed the same. This seemed to be a common factor in anything he directly created. It stands to reason that if you found the Eye of Autochthon, it would do the same.

It's other property was that there was a potential link between it and something or someone else. If and when you activated it, the link would actualize and pull the other party into the artifact. Essentially a maximum powered version of that charm that spirits have that lets them appear somewhere when you pray to them. And also possibly instantaneous.

You had no idea yet who it would summon. Hopefully you wouldn't have to use it.

A palanquin was waiting for you at the gates of Malfeas, with lead allow on the outside so the eyes of the Demon Emperor could not peer within. Quickly, you all piled in, and set off towards the libraries of Orabillis.

Homkora had set up an appointment. She was, as she explained, his organizer, his intelligencia, his secretary. While she was not entirely sure of the plan, it was easy to tell that while essential and powerful, Orabillis was not the most well liked of the Unquestionables. Better to be feared than hated, apparently.

So after some time traveling through the demon city, the Dancer in the Crystal Treasury lead you to the doors of one of the many glass libraries. They open for you, and she leads you in. Standing before the immaculately arranged secrets and mysteries and lost knowledge of ages gone is a man clad like a noble of a lost time. Azure glass finery decorates his fingers, cerulean reading glasses before his eyes.

He seems at once both a man and a figurine, a subtle wrongness about him that you remember from when you first bound him.

"Sorcerer," he says, with the inflection that makes the word sound like a gum disease.

"Orabillis." You smile, faintly. "You will accept being bound for a task and tell no one of this task."

The End of All Wisdom adjusts his reading glasses.

"And why would I accept?"

"For one, he will order you to." You gesture to Ligier.

"Must I, Sorcerer?" the Green Sun asks.

"You must." You raise a second finger. "Secondly, it will net you a great secret. And thirdly, it will keep you from dying, right now."

The Unquestionable narrows his eyes. "Is that a threat?"

Then Elsewhere opens behind him. As was agreed upon. The End of All Wisdom turns to the entrance to the Antitime and Nonplace, and sees the immense rotating maw of soulsteel blades extending out. When asked what it was, Autochthon summed it up as such:

Mechanical God Separator.

"Orabillis," the voice of the Great Maker booms, "I have returned!"

Lightning lasers connect the spikes into an infinite horror combine harvester.

"FOR YOU."

And it all becomes worth it when Orabillis, the End of All Wisdom, possibly the most dangerous demon to bind in all of Malfeas, trips over his own rug and scurries away from the immense horror machine while screaming like a little girl. You step out of the way, watching Autochthon gobble up chunks of the office, consuming scroll and book and decoration.

"Do you accept the binding?" you ask, bounding up and down on the balls of your feet.

"YES!"

"I can't hear you~"

"I ACCEPT! I ACCEPT!"

(Orabillis waves willpower on binding roll and accepts binding. Orabillis is successfully bound.)

You turn to Homkora. "We need the essence of the binding as a pearl." Homkora nods, quickly forming one of her glass pearls in her hand. You turn to the magitech harvester, clapping your hands. "We got it!"

"Excellent. Let me know if we need to do this again."

And with that, the harvester returns to Elsewhere.

"That. That was Autochthon." Orabillis does not stand. Does not move. Possibly he does not want others to see how he has soiled himself.

"Mm hm."

"He has returned," the End of All Wisdom adds.

You lean down. "And here's the secret you were promised." You lean in to his ear. "He works for me."

With that, you and your entourage leave.


[ ]Use the binding and Servant of Ineffable Location to figure out where Hunhow is.

[ ]Find some more Third Circles to terrify into binding.

[ ]Write in.

Author's note: While we did bind Orabillis, we have also used the binding to create the arcane link we will use to track down Hunhow. If we wished to bind him again, we would have to go through the ritual once more.

Autochthon making a third circle shit themselves in terror causes the demon to wave the willpower roll and need for the ritual, agreeing to the binding out of fear of their own existence.

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Find some more Third Circles to terrify into binding.
-[X]Bind Utprerak, the Fastness of Shattered Suns, into protecting Creation and Hell from the Engine of Extinction.


It was decided that Orabillis was a right asshole and deserved what he got, and you would make it a point to bottle what you felt when you saw him shitting himself in terror because it would corner the market on Semtex. On the other hand, you worked well with demons because you respected them, and didn't want to get a reputation for terrifying them into compliance.

Homkora's task completed, she was released from her binding. You did have the pearl you would need to track down Hunhow, of course. But first, you had another demon you wanted to bind.

Third Circle Demons were on on the level of Celestial Gods. The most powerful of them comparable to the Incarnae. They would prove invaluable in protecting Creation against the forces of the Engine of Extinction. So, you did a bit of research and determined which one you'd summon and bind.

"Ebeli? I just want to say that I have full confidence that you know what you're doing but this is still terrifying."

Shell maintains her shield around them, all of you standing atop a great brass pillar. Sky stands to your other side, sword already drawn. Ray has anchors on the pillar to keep it steady, constantly flowing essence through them to keep the pillar from being drawn in. Ligier- well, Ligier just laughs. Ruvelia watches silently but with a smile- this one was among the first to fall on her world.

You can't look directly at it, but the effects are obvious. Much of this area, for hundreds of miles around are drawn in, superheated and stretched into molten brass and light. It surrounds the immense form in a mantle of crimson and white, and there is nothing that can stop the devastation it leaves in its wake.

You cannot look directly at it, for there is no light escaping from it. All you see is what it does to the Demon City. Its colors are the stretched and burning remains of city blocks. Its smells are the crushed and torched remains of countless beings that were beneath, above, and before it. The only sin of its shape are the immense, nation-sized hoof prints it leaves in its wake, and you know exactly what this is.

The Antarch Stampede. The Collapsar That Walks. The Traveling Lens. The Singularity Jouten.

The Black Boar that Twists the Skies.
Isidoros.
​

Curiously, you wonder if the spell and ritual made him redirect to here so you could summon his sixth soul. Maybe? It would definitely be an accomplishment. But the ritual is done, and you extend your hands towards the event horizon of the Yozi. It comes ever closer- you can tell because the light begins to turn blue.

"I invoke the Sign of Separation. Hear me, for I open the gate.

"I invoke the Mudra of Victory, and remind you of the oaths your progenitor once swore.

"I invoke the Black Boar that Twists the Skies! Isidoros, Unstoppable, I call forth your Sixth Soul!

"Hear me, Fastness of Shattered Suns! Come forth and be bound-

"Utprerak!"

Your own power forces down against hers- burning it down to something manageable as you grind your teeth to your own conviction to see it through. Power meets power- will meets will. You have your companions and loved ones by your side, and you will not fail at this task.

(Ebeli, 20 dice, 8 successes)

(Utprerak, 10 dice, 6 successes)

(Ebeli, 16 dice, 2 successes)

(Utprerak, 10 dice, 3 successes)

(Ebeli, 16 dice 8 successes)

(Utprerak, 10 dice, 2 successes)

The blue shifting becomes brighter. Brighter still. But you can see through the glow something disengage from the event horizon of the Black Boar. An immense dreadnought of black crystal hovering over what you guess is the boar's head. It flies over to you- escaping impossible gravity and hovering above you. Innumerable armored eyes scan beneath the armored plate, and the league wide floating fortress shines a light down upon you.

Before you appears an elder woman with tan skin and in shadowed, glass armor, cloaked in burning clouds.

"I am bound," she says, "What task do you bind me towards, Sorcerer?"

"The Engine of Extinction exists in another universe and has used the Well of Udr to access this one," you state, completely straight faced, "You are bound to defend the Well from anything that attempts to come through- and if necessary, to take the fight through it, to the Engine itself."

To your credit, the third circle demon says nothing for long moments. Even as the Black Boar gets closer. And closer. And closer. Shell's eyes widen with concern and Ray keeps pouring essence into the chains holding the tower to the ground.

"Understood," Utprerak says, "You have claimed the Well, I take it?"

"Erembour's currently managing it," you respond, "So you should go so we can get out of his way."

Utprerak shakes her head.

"Not yet. He wants to talk to you."

She vanishes, and the dreadnought flies away, flying up and into the malfean sky. You turn, and look up, and notice the blue shifting has stopped. Because there is something before you. Something immense which you can't look directly at.

You harbor the Great Maker. I do not care that you do.

The voice hits like something seismic.

The shield ripples- it can defend against anything but the tower beneath you still shakes.

I know he seeks to challenge Malfeas. He always has. But Malfeas will win, for he is King.

With that, the Black Boar turns and continues on his way, pulling the remains of a city with him.



You secured a townhouse in one of the nicer layers- not in Ligier's layer itself- as a home base. That way you could work without having to worry about Malfeas' eyes being too intent on you. He could technically see through Ligier's eyes, but he would not do so without cause, and Ligier made it a point to not look directly at Ruvelia while they were in Hell.

"So we believe Hunhow is in Creation," Ruvelia says, "And the pearl will serve as an arcane link to find him."

You nod. "I've contacted Mara and she's going to help me steal his shadow, as well. It'll give us a better idea of what he's plotting.

You pocket the pearl, shoving it into your amulet. Autochthon is still in Elsewhere, working on something. You have that artifact he gave you on the belt of your dress, and it seems to have no weight, which is odd. But still. Though, for the most part this visit seems to be going well.

"Of course, from what we know he intends to somehow destroy or despoil Creation. Perhaps a visit to the estates of the Infernals is in order?"

You perk your ears at that. "The what?"

"The Infernal Exalted," Ligier explains, waving it off, "I know only the barest details about what the Yozi intend for the Infernals, but most likely any breaking of the prison involves irreparable damage to Creation. As short-sighted as it may be."

You nod. Sky is seated in one of the easy chairs of the sitting room, and Ray idly sips her tea. Shell finishes cleaning her beamklaive, sitting on a set of pillows.

"Sounds good," you say, "Anything else?"

Then, a set of immense, and very familiar black claws puncture the ceiling. The brass screams, tears off, and the top level of the townhouse flies off. It flips end over end, flying off into the city, and you look up.

For a brief moment, you see the emerald light of the Green Sun shining down.

Then the shadow blocks it and the Ebon Dragon looks down, announcing his presence with a jovial and giddy,

HEY KIDS WANNA SEE A DEAD BODY?!

[ ]Scream.

[ ]Spend one willpower to not scream.

[ ]Demand to know how he snuck up on you.

[ ]Write in.

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Join Battle
-[X]While Screaming


You raise your staff, forcing down the need to scream at the presence of the surprise Yozi. "How did you sneak up on us?"

Fuck you, that's how.

Well you're not going to get a better answer than that. Sky is already up, sword drawn. Shell has her beamklaive at ready. Ligier steps between the Dragon's line of sight and Ruvelia, and the Dragon's eyes wander over towards the Green Sun. You raise your voice- a Yozi could probably see through the bracelet and that would be bad.

"What do you want?"

The yellow eyes of the Ultimate Darkness turn back to you with a giggle. You hear a faint scream, and one of the Dragon's hands comes back into view, depositing a skewered first circle demon into his maw.

What do I want? My face tattooed inside the eyelid of every newborn child, so my smiling visage is the first and last thing they ever see. But as for what I want now?

He leans in. Miles long whiskers of shadow wave in the air.

I want you to bring out the crippled retard.

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

"Who?"

Darling, I invented lying. Do you really think you can play innocent with me?

"He's got you there," Ray says with a shrug.

You sigh. "Alright. How do you know?"

The shadowed mouth parts, exposing smiling, yellow, rotted teeth.

Other than Isidoros lacking an indoor voice? Because an Infernal who's learned my charms slammed that fat fuck head first into Florivet's ship and sent out a prayer. So bring. Him. Out.

His eyes are on you. Good. You put distance between yourself and Ligier. Distance between yourself and the others. "You know what Malfeas will do if he sees that Autochthon is in Malfeas."

It's the sort of amazing satisfaction I haven't had since I watched the Primordials geass the Incarnae. And the best part? I barely have to do anything.

"Fair enough." You shrug, reaching for your bracelet. "Anyway. One question. This is the second time I've been to Hell in the past few months and the second time you've shown up. Is it because I'm a redhead? Because I'm the grand daughter of the Empress?"

The Ebon Dragon spears another first circle demon and pops the screaming neomah in his mouth, before buffing his talon.

Honestly, the relationship to your grandmother is a turn on, but I'd have to have your mother involved. And all of your sisters. Your husband would come to. He'd keep me lubricated-

Then Sky swings, channeling essence and mastery into Stone Splitter. The light becomes a wave, becomes a greater sword, becomes a mountain cleaving strike. All of you clear your eyes, and the light clears to the sounds of Ligier's approving clapping.

You look up. The hand is still there, save for the top of the finger. The rest of the serpent is there. But everything above the neck of the Ebon Dragon is gone, vaporized by the sheer force of Sky's blow.

"Did you just one-pump the Ebon Dragon?" Ray asks.

"Yeah," Sky says, and sheathes his sword. "No one talks about my girl like that."

"Excellent blow," Ligier says with a bow, "I approve of the motive, if not the timing."

Sky nods, hand on the hilt. Then there is the gurgling, like wet meat above. You watch as the shadows gather, and the tendrils of oil and black rise from the neck, forming into the frame and filling with the ill intent. It fills up like an oil can, first a solid silhouette, then definition.

As it solidifies, the jaw works and the neck stretches, and the eyes of the Ebon Dragon peer down directly at you.

You. Little. Shit stained. Self righteous. Meatsacks.

The talons grip the sides of the townhouse. The brass tears and the walls are gone.

I don't usually get my hands bloody, but what we have here is a rare opportunity for me to make an example.

With that, the eyebrows of the dragon burst into green flame. You can tell then that the Dragon is mirroring Ligier. Your staff up, you grip it tightly, thinking of options. Fighting a Yozi? Out of all of them, the Ebon Dragon is probably the one you'd want to fight in an actual battle- it is more to make him run away.

But he is angry. He may know things. And...

"Here's a better idea." You smirk, and pull up the sphere, grabbing both handles. "You wanted me to bring out Autochthon? How's one of his spirits, instead?"

You pull, and you feel the device, the artifact, activate. Old machines deep within churn and twist. Light buried within shines, and something- a tether, long slack, goes taught. So many laws, natural and magical are violated in that snap instant and the artifact rises from your hand.

The handles fold back. The light shines brighter, the plates around it rotating into a not a matrix-

But an eye.

Elsewhere opens around it. Lightning of the nonspace opens in rifts below it, and flowing from it comes artifacts and panoply. Very, very familiar panoply. But brass instead of black. The eye glows blue instead of red. Standing twelve feet tall, it touches two toed feet against the floor of what is now the roof of the townhouse, and looks up.

At that moment, you are rewarded with a sight you will always cherish. A memory which will stay with you for the rest of your days.

The look on the Ebon Dragon's face when he realizes he's fucked up.

Oh no.

"You know each other?" you ask.

"The Serpent entered Nullspace during my imprisonment to poison the mind of the Great Maker. He escaped once. He will not do so again."

The left hand snaps out and ignites into an immense obsidian beamklaive. "Oh hey, introductions all around," you say, gesturing to the Dragon, "Allow me to introduce Traveller. Or, as you probably know her, Viator of Nullspace."

Join Battle:
The Shadow of All Things
The Ultimate Darkness
The Ebon Dragon

​

[ ]Help Viator rip the Ebon Dragon a new asshole.

[ ]Guard Ruvelia and your own Autochthon-summoning Bracelet from whatever tricks the Dragon has in play.

[ ]Write in.​

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Guard Ruvelia and your own Autochthon-summoning Bracelet from whatever tricks the Dragon has in play.


Four harpoons fire from Viator's waist, jamming into the floor. The purpose of them soon becomes obvious when the eye glows red and a beam of crimson light lances out. The recoil makes the entire building shudder, makes the floors buckle, and drags great furrows in the floor.

It also blasts a hole through the Ebon Dragon's neck, glowing red hot. The Yozi gasps, sputters, and responds with a gout of emerald flame which deflects off of Shell's shield.

Plasma jets ignite and harpoons disengage, and you watch Viator of Nullspace- the weaponized former Fetich of Autochthon- launch herself at the Dragon and drag them both into the Malfean sky.

You pull the bracelet off your wrist and toss it to Ray. "Ray, go invisible and keep close to Ligier! Ligier, the Infernal Estates! Are they safe?"

Ray catches the bracelet, ties it on, and whispers something into it, nodding. She then vanishes. "They are safe," Ligier says, "However, only the Fetich Souls of the Yozi or their Joutens can enter. I do not believe Ruvelia could enter without Malfeas being alerted to her return."

"We don't want that," she says, "Not yet."

You nod. Then turn your brain- your expert demonology brain- towards the situation at hand. "Why would the Ebon Dragon want to reveal your return? He doesn't reveal things unless they're hurtful."

"Malfeas would learn of a version of himself that was not humiliated, who's Ligier dies in glory and honor rather than subjugation, and who was not imprisoned and locked out of Yu Shan."

That's legit. "Oh yeah, that would piss him off." You grab Ruvelia's wrist. "You come with us. Ligier, stay with Ray. We meet at the estates of the Infernals. Go!"



The former Fetich Soul of Autochthon was fighting the Ebon Dragon in the skies of Malfeas. There was no way this was not drawing attention. Thankfully, it was drawing attention away from you- that was, two Solars, a third circle demon, and an Alchemical- that were running along the brass streets of the demon city and beneath the serpent.

From the sounds of it, the Dragon was not winning.

"Do was it me or did the Ebon Dragon sound like he was scared?"

You half turn to Sky, still walking. "It did," you respond, "Although makes sense. He had nowhere to run."

Shell laughs. "Before I met you, if you told me I would be happy to see the Viator, I would be very skeptical."

You shrug. The four of you push into a crowd of demons gawking at the battle up on high. You can hear the yelps and screams of the dragon, the shrill blasts and unlight slashes of the Viator's blade. "So, is our Dragon different from yours?" Sky asks.

"No, they match up," Ruvelia answers.

"So there is no chance that there aren't traps all over the place?"

Ruvelia hums an agreement.

Shadows flow and wrap around the top of a nearby building. Talons atop the roof, tail whipping across the cityscape, the Ebon Dragon stares down at you. More in particular, stares directly at Ruvelia. In that moment, you see it- the realization in his eyes of the sheer chaos that could be caused. The joy and wonderment crossing his face is the closest you think you will ever see- ever want to see- to the Ebon Dragon's 'O' face.

So hey, anyone ever hear the story about how the Primordials once found the Great Maker's son and took him apart like a cheap toy?

The crimson beam pierces the top of the Dragon's jaw and comes out through the lower jaw, demolishing the building and sending black blood spraying over the streets.

The Viator appears, grabbing the Dragon by the whiskers, and hurls him into the sky once more before launching herself after him.

"That was so intentional," you breath.

Then you bring up your staff to deflect the first black sword that flies at you. From the black blood of the Ebon Dragon, they appear- black swords, thin and long that fly freely from the droplets and hurling themselves through the air.

"Swords of Policy!" you yell, "First circle demons of the Ebon Dragon!"

Sky is in front. He swings Stone Splitter in practiced motions, like that time you ran into Grasscutter in the Chaos. The streets bend and weave, and you form a line behind your husband. The solid rain of blade swords abates, and you see the street has split- one road leads to a white tower in the distance. Another leads to a rusty forest of brass.

"Ebeli?" Sky asks.

"The brass forest is probably Hrotsvitha. We do not want to go in there," you say, and point to the white tower, "I have about five candidates for that one and they're better than any forests!"

You run past the piled bodies of impaled demons around you. The streets give way to another block- filled with onlookers watching the battle up ahead.

Ah! That was my favorite dick!

Something massive and black slams into a nearby tower and collapses it, but none of you look. At least, until a black sword flits by you and skewers an anglykae to a far wall. "More swords! Shell!"

Shell spreads out her arms and the prismatic shield unfurls, blocking the onslaught of swords that...don't bounce off? That don't actually try to hit the shield?

You watch the swords flit past you. Not hitting all the demons, just certain ones. Narrowing your eyes, you tune your senses to supernal, and you blaze your caste mark and let the Eye of the Unconquered Sun reveal all secrets before you.

(Perception+Awareness, 9 dice +6 autosuccesses, 22 successes)

Nothing is hidden from you. You trace the paths of the demonic swords. Watch as they sever cords and puncture drums. Watch them cut the vocal cords of shouting demonic missionaries. Break the azure tablets of cecelyne priests.

All random, at first. Then you catch it out of the corner of your eye- one of the harpists, one of the anglykae, seemingly rising from where she was impaled for a brief moment.

Before the corpse is carried off by a silent, invisible wind to somewhere only the Yozi know.

"They're targeting the musicians and noisemakers!"

[ ]Defend the demons.

[ ]FUCKING RUN.

[ ]Write in.​

 

[GreggHL]

Because Ebeli has a 15 dice demonology pool

Subsouls of the Ebon Dragon:

Fetich: Unknown
Asking may get Orabillis to throw you into the sky.

Elsaileff, the White Tower
Second Soul of the Ebon Dragon
Those brave enough, heroic enough, determined and doomed enough to wander the shadowed depths of the demon city may find themselves at the base of an enormous white tower that shines like a beacon in the darkness. This is Elsaileff- the White Tower. The Beacon of Champions. The Matron of Heroes. Upon entry, they are greeted by her other form, a beautiful woman with alabaster skin and hair of shadow, who offers them a place to rest, food and drink, and supplies for their long journey. She listens to their stories and gives them hope for their struggles, and sends them on their way, for she loves all who are doomed in their heroic ways.

Those who know her are surprised to find she is a third circle of the Adversary. But it is in the Ebon Dragon's nature to oppose, and the closer one comes to his heart, the more the souls oppose him. Elsaileff has always opposed him- she loves him for he is doomed as she is doomed, and she represents his own love of doom. Since the Times of Glory, perhaps even before, she would be the beacon to all who opposed his villainy and his plots, for she sees beauty in doomed heroism, of the striving of those with will to change the world. She embraces her own doom, for she knew it would come.

However, it never did. When the Primordial War ended, the Unconquered Sun himself descended to destroy her. Instead, he spend a week and a day within her tower, binding her. He has not returned since. Many years later, a champion, born of sun and shadow, departed the tower to seek his way to Creation.

Motivation: To guide heroes to their destinies and dooms. She has intimacies towards doom, destiny, heroism, and light.

Second Circles:
-unknown


Valrath, the Apocryphal Dragon
Third Soul of the Ebon Dragon
Where the souls of the Ebon Dragon oppose him, his third soul opposes them. Valrath, the Apocryphal Dragon, is the closest the Ebon Dragon has to a true ally and second. In fact, many tales of the Dragon appearing to mortals and exalted outside of his prison, in lesser plots and tales, are of this demon, for he takes a form much like his progenitor. An immense serpent of shadow, he takes a form more suited for combat- with an immense, flaming maw and great rending talons that suck the light from the world around it.

Where Elsaileff is his love of doom, Erembour his love of shadows, and Marsilion his love of secrets, Valrath represents the Ebon Dragon's love of villainy. Ever plotting, ever scheming, the Apocryphal Dragon seeks to increase his own power and standing. Yet he is himself a brute- his own scheming is his own weakness, for in his focus on power he opens himself up to his own death at the hands of his own Progenitor Soul, the Heretical Dragon, who may usurp him.

Motivation: To conquer, to seize, and to have all bow before him. He has intimacies towards conquest, power, villainy, and schemes.

Second Circles:
-Valkyrion, The Heretical Dragon, Progenitor
--The Swords of Policy (first circle)

Marsilion, the Eidolon of Shadow
Fourth Soul of the Ebon Dragon

Second Circles:
-unknown

Erembour, That Which Calls to the Shadows
Sixth Soul of the Ebon Dragon

Second Circles:
-Mara, the Shadow Lover, Defining
-Alveua, Keeper of the Forge of Night, Expressive
-Makarios, the Sigil's Dreamer, Warden
​

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Defend the demons.


Sky goes to the front, parrying one sword into the ground, grabbing another by the hilt and swinging it into another flying blade. "Did I hear that right? Is he baiting Adorjan?"

"Who's Adorjan?" Ruvelia asks.

Shell slices one sword out of the air, throwing her shield up to deflect the blades from a frozen troupe of Anglykae. "You don't have her where you come from?"

Ruvelia shakes her head.

"We should visit sometime," Shell says, "Ebeli? Suggestions?"

"Defend the demons," you say, stepping out in front, "Shell, as many as you can. Sky, I need you to inspire them. I need them making noise. I'll banish the swords!"

You form the Seven Devil's Rebuke with your hands. Solar essence flares around you. You've never banished a demon inside Malfeas, but in theory it will just send them to where they're supposed to go. Which will hopefully be another layer or maybe inside the Ebon Dragon.

You can hear Sky atop a brass pillar, shouting orders to the demons. You can hear the roar of Shell's colossus form and the spark of the starmetal dome expanding around as many of the demons as possible.

You make the Mudra of Victory, and the swords still fly past you- you are not their target. They are not here to kill. Only silence.

You make the Calibration Denying Sign, and the spark becomes a storm within your hands, and you extend both hands towards the spilled blood of the Dragon.

"I invoke Adamant Circle Banishment!"

With a thundercrack, the swords, the blood, the filth, is gone. Sent to whatever layer of Malfeas it originates from, or to its progenitor. You don't care. But you turn when you hear Ruvelia's voice raise in song, joined by Sky's incitement. The music resumes and the songs play, the voices of cowering demons raising in unison with hers.

Voices raise from the buildings around you, along with the music of demonic instruments and more base sounds of banging pots and pans and swords against shields.

You look to the distance, and see something red and airy retreating, and let out a held in breath. "Let's go."



You can hear the sounds of battle- in the distance, like echoes. The Ebon Dragon retreated into the shadows with the Viator in pursuit, and from every shadow in Malfeas you could hear the sounds of the cathartic beating of the Shadow of All Things. It was wonderful, and you must bottle this feeling to sell it on the open market.

You still had problems, though. The white tower was gone, as was the brass forest. Instead, your options became brass streets and a swamp- and you knew better than to brave Metagos.

Ligier could see everything- his light shined upon all of Malfeas. But the shadows of the Ebon Dragon could block his light, and they were. Much of your path was shadowed by the dragon intentionally, and you walk through the musical and loud streets of the demon city with your companions, always waiting for the next shoe to drop.

The geography of Malfeas quickly made no sense, but you had a Yozi with a grudge against you so that was to be expected. One block lead to another on the ceiling layer of the layer you were just on. You were trying to get to Ligier's layer, where presumably he could then guide you to the estates of the Infernal Exalted. There, presumably, you would be safe.

But again, the Ebon Dragon had a grudge.

Indeed I do.

Hours after escaping the ambush of the swords of policy, a stomach bottle bug glows with unlight, channeling the power of its progenitor. It stands at your feet, smiling.

I must admit, I planned mostly for you coming with the Great Maker, but this will do as well.

You kick the bug out of the way and continue on. The insect pops, unable to contain the power of the Yozi, and is no more.

In the skies above, the Ebon Dragon emerges.

That was rude!

From above, the Viator descends, sweeping down upon the Dragon's eye with her beamklaive, but hits nothing.

Missed me!

And the Dragon retreats into the shadows, whooping the entire way. The Viator follows.

"So what happens if she kills him?" Sky asks.

"Hope she doesn't," you respond with a shrug and a sigh, "If the Dragon dies, all his subsouls die. That includes Mara and Erembour and the others who don't deserve death. More than that, the Dragon's own themes mean he could be as bad as an undead Autochthon."

Ruvelia nods. "The Engine made it a point to avoid consuming the Dragon. Even in his hunger he realized the folly."

You step across the boundary of another block, and the landscape again shifts. Now the music gets louder. You grip your staff tightly and peer around, finding yourself standing in a plaza. An open plaza of brass plants and great rivers of something liquid, all palatial and grand.

"Remember, the Dragon set this up thinking that we were bringing the Great Maker with us," you state, walking cautiously with your fellows through the park, hearing the sounds of music and clapping feet, "Keep this in mind. So..."

Oh.

Oh this feels familiar.

Oh shit.

You see it clearly, clear as day. Most likely Ligier does not, as the Dragon masks it from his vision. But across the clearing, clear enough for you to see, and accompanied by many a first and second circle demon and dancing in oblivious joy-

Is the Brass Dancer.

[ ]Write in.​

 

[GreggHL]

[X]Distract the Brass Dancer by challenging him to a Dance-Off


You could not be seen by Ligier's light, but at least he was a member of your entourage. Thought did not need line of sight, so you simply send a message that way.

Ligier, we're standing in front of the Brass Dancer.

I am en route.

Well that was succinct. Now, how to distract the Brass Dancer from the return of his lost Fetich? Ah, yes. You tap your staff, grab Sky by the hand, and the nearest musicians take the hint to start a slow waltz tone.

The joyous tapping of feet becomes the steady, clockwork motion of countless couples spinning along the brass park, winding through like gears of a great machine. Through music and motion, you watch out of the corner of your eye as Shell whirls with Ruvelia, keeping her away from the twirling Brass Dancer, who dances alone at the center of the great cog of motion.

At least until the shadows part and the head of the Ebon Dragon slams into the center of the park, narrowly missing the Brass Dancer and sending the demons scattering in a panic.

Everything past the head is burnt off, and the Viator stands atop the snout. Her beamklaive is embedded in his third eye, and the yellow eyes on either side of the shadowed head simply twinkle with merriment.

So you're a woman? Tell me, do you have red hair, too? Because I would be exceptionally aroused if you didn't cut off all my genitals!

"Be. Quiet." And for effect, the Viator stabs his eye again, making the dragon laugh. Except, not at the Viator. "Stop. Talking."

I'm not apologizing.

The Ebon Dragon laughs. But not at the Viator. Instead, at- hoshit.

Hello, Your Majesty! Sorry to drop in so suddenly on your dance, but look who's back!

The Ebon Dragon opens his mouth, giving the Brass Dancer a clear view of Ruvelia. There is a grinding. A sudden, loud grinding. You look up- up and up. Further up, as far as your supernal senses will let you, and you realize- yes. Yes, indeed.

The layers have stopped. For that moment, the infinite layers of Malfeas have stopped moving.

Outside of yourselves, the head of the Ebon Dragon, and the Viator, the plaza is now empty. Completely, and absolutely empty. You look past the Dragon's rotted teeth and see even the Brass Dancer is gone.

"I hate you."

Say it slower you slut.

You feel it before you hear it. You turn- all of you turn. Something comes down from on high. You hold your staff fast, and Sky draws his sword, and Shell ignites her beamklaive. The Viator rises from the Dragon's head, her eyes flickering crimson, and she takes a step back.

On six wings, he descends. Unfurled and casting shadows the green sun's light cannot penetrate. Veins of glowing vitriol run beneath brass skin that is cast like armor, glowing runes etched along him to tell the story of majesty and the fall.

He lands and dwarfs you. His very presence makes you want to kneel. The horns atop his head form a crown of flesh and brass, sloped back into a broken halo, and three emerald eyes stare down at you with burning rage. His face shadowed by the helm, so all you can see are the eyes and trembling teeth.

Folding back his wings, they form a cloak, and a brass blade stabs into the plaza. Emerald flame erupts around it, sealing you in.

"Is that Malfeas?" Sky asks.

You nod. "It's the Devil Tyrant. One of his Jouten."

Sky nods, idly twirling his sword.

You dare insult us like this.

The voice shakes. It shakes the brass beneath your feet. It makes the city tremble. You realize at that moment that there are two reasons the layers have stopped moving. First, because Malfeas is experiencing the existential equivalent of blind rage, and because he wants to give the demon city a show.

Fuck it, might as well.

You step forward and raise you staff.

"Demon Emperor, this is no insult! We did not come here to remind you of your greatest failure!"

Phrasing!

The Viator stabs the Ebon Dragon again. The ground tenses. Everything is an extension of the massive Devil Tyrant before you. You come up to his ankle, maybe, but right now you are buying time. "It is only through the treachery of the Ebon Dragon that you had to be reminded of this. We came here to prevent a great enemy from befouling existence- it was the Dragon's grudge that lead to this at all."

The three eyes narrow. The blade, embedded in the ground, twists. He cuts himself, like he grinds his teeth.

And yet you stand before me, with an effigy of the snuffed out sun that your forebears executed.

You turn to Ruvelia. "Take off the bracelet."

She nods. "Is that wise?"

You shrug. "Honestly? We're making this up as we go along."

She undoes the clasps of the bracelet and takes it off. The emerald flame around her shifts, flickers, and ignires into blue. She rises, and around her the corona of the cerulean star spreads, her own human form becoming the white, winged visage. You turn, and see the sword pull out of the ground, and the Devil Tyrant take a step back.

How is this possible?

There is anger there. But also sadness. Disbelief.

"We met an impossible price," you explain, "We used a great work of Oramus- the Well of Udr- to reach across to another universe to meet it. She is bound, but she is not entirely here. She is no resident of the Demon City, but like any who are summoned she is-"

Malfeas interrupts you in a fashion that is purely Malfean. That is, by roaring, the Devil Tyrant's hand lashing out with speed belying its immense size to seize the White Lady, to claim her once more and to become what he once was. Flame blocks his way- not the Cerulean Flame, but the Emerald Flame, for Ligier appears between his progenitor and his sister.

"Sorcerer," Ligier says, arms folded and the Sword of the Yozi floating between himself and the Devil Tyrant's hand, "I would be upset, but the Ebon Dragon is most likely responsible for this."

And happy to accept credit-

The Viator stabs him again.

You betray me. You all betray me.

Ray appears next to you. You feel the ground shift- the layers of Malfeas once more moving. Not their steady sort of rage, either. Oh no, that's not the sort of rage this is. This is extreme even by the standards of Malfeas. You see layers passing overhead, you hear screams of panicked demons all around.

Ray brings the bracelet up to her mouth. "Okay! Showtime!"

You turn to your circle sister, eyes wide.

"Ray. No."

And then Elsewhere opens. An immense gout of white lightning opening to the antitime and nonplace, but much, much bigger than the usual one. Out of it steps the encounter suit- but not the man sized one, oh no. This one is bigger. This one is heavily armored.

This one is the size of the Devil Tyrant.

"Ah, Your Majesty," Autochthon says, bowing, "My apologies for the sudden arrival, but it seems that you could use some inventive redirection and I would like to discuss-"

The Devil Tyrant roars, his attention redirected from his own traitorous fetich, and seizes Autochthon by the throat with both immense, clawed hands.

[ ]Write in.​

 

[GreggHL]

So, between Ray, Ebeli, Ligier, Ruvelia, Viator, and Autochthon, there are several Non-Neverborn ideas for dealing with the Ebon Dragon.

Viator and Autochthon both like this one, but they can be spiteful bastards:

Shove the Dragon's Jouten into Elsewhere.

The thing to understand- and which we understand- is that each Elsewhere is Instanced. Elsewhere is not one place. When you put something into Elsewhere, it creates a new Elsewhere. The reason, for example, that the Dragon was able to go to Autochthon's elsewhere was because of the Seal of Eight Divinities. The terms of the Oaths means that the Yozi cannot go anyplace that leads to Creation, and at the time Nullspace did not lead to Creation in any way shape or form.

But to the point- shoving the Dragon's jouten into Elsewhere wouldn't imprison him. No, the prison would be the encounter suit that the Elsewhere leads to. The encounter suit would be a 6 inch tall brass serpent made in the likeness of the Ebon Dragon, but would not have access to any of his attributes or abilities. But could be modified. The encounter suit is the prison- and if the Dragon wished, he could escape. Into the elsewhere pocket that the suit leads into. And if he escapes from the Elsewhere pocket, well, the elsewhere pocket is tied to a fixed place in Malfeas, so he's right back where he started.