So... Guys, are we still sure we can maintain a amicable relationship with God after this? I don't know if the orthodox interpretation and catholic interpretation are the same or not in Quest but if they are i don't think They will appreciate this turn of events. Striking down an Angel isn't a simple matter and that's not considering the fact we are helping what can only be described as a defeated rival of God with this course of action. Seeing as God doesn't want us to worship other gods then collaboration with one probably isn't going to be looked upon kindly as well...
A Night So Deep-(A Supernatural Alt-History Quest Set in the Balkans)
- Thread starter Dapperlad1
- Start date
- Mature
Lets do this right. Stolas isn't a fighter, and from what I know didn't fall during the war of heaven proper. With how big this bastard is...well....I might know who it is, and uh...it's...it's not great. One could say that this is, in face, very suboptimal. Waylon, time to earn your reputation.
[X] Waylon casts his magick, sending a spell more complex than can be imagined towards the angel.
Bind it. Banish it. I don't care what you do, just win
[X] Waylon casts his magick, sending a spell more complex than can be imagined towards the angel.
Bind it. Banish it. I don't care what you do, just win
Last edited:
oh yah we totally are
Warmach1ne32
Machine of War and Quests
- Location
- Indonesia
God teaches us to be tolerant and to treat each other the same way we want to be treated, that includes other religions if I remember my Christian lessons. So helping allies is not a sin.
Last edited:
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Are you sure you are a Christian? Cause that sounds very tolerant and too inclusive for a Christian.
I don't know how to feel on this... I don't want to have to fight God just because I also want magic around.
Last edited:
Well its more, dude summoned a angel that tries to kill a group of beings, those beings don't want to get killed. Who's to say what the abrahamic god wants or does not want until someone or something of sufficient authority on the matter informs us of big G's intentions.
Last edited:
Eh, just don't tell anyone and as long as no "messages from God" or prophets show up and tell everyone we killed an Angel they won't know. Though we can't discount the chance of it happening we have already made our bed, now we must lay in it.
- Location
- his hidden lair
Keep in mind, God didn't choose to send this Angel upon us, Mathias did.
Do I think God probably preferred the Source untapped? Yeah, do I think we're now forever denied our own faith? It's not like Christianity doesn't have big forgiveness themes for a reason. We didn't get all this seemingly divine inspiration on our own and Rome as a nation has been emphatically Christian for over a thousand years by this point.
Cause make no mistake, Albanian god wants to start shit? I'm 100% down for ending it.
The Crusader's brand of bullshit was always fueled off of martyrdom. I highly doubt we were going to get out of this without Corvinus invoking it.
And is it really zealotry when he just wants to keep people safe, and our response was 'Rome will be safe, we've seen to that'. Don't get me wrong, we'll be a-conquering and fighting a lot of the more organized gribblies but it's not like we're going to do much when the Terrasque wakes up and tears through Spain are we? This is very much a case where Matthias might be an antagonist, but he's no villain.
Warmach1ne32
Machine of War and Quests
- Location
- Indonesia
From the words of a priest on youtube himself when some youtubers invited the priest to react to r/dankchristianmeme so you know its too outlandish to be fake.
Lol, I spy the salt from trying, but really—was just flying at the dude with a sword going to achieve any better? Dude had the thing in his hand already, would've been able to crush it before we did anything.
Knew there was something off about him making it this far magically by himself.
- Location
- Albania
- Pronouns
- He/Him
To put it in perspective, doing what Matthias just did is indeed a grave sin. It's rather easier to just point out that God had no part in this, only the actions of man.
Furthermore, with everything out for a hundred miles being dust and ash, the only witnesses to the fight are right here.
Furthermore, with everything out for a hundred miles being dust and ash, the only witnesses to the fight are right here.
[X] Waylon casts his magick, sending a spell more complex than can be imagined towards the angel.
I don't think god would exile us for this because sure there was fanatics in our way but i don't see any of them being chosen by god so even though he maybe doesn't endorse this cause of action i don't think he is against it either
I don't think god would exile us for this because sure there was fanatics in our way but i don't see any of them being chosen by god so even though he maybe doesn't endorse this cause of action i don't think he is against it either
I have one thing to say to you all, I'm sorry. I was in charge of rolling to determine which Angel was summoned, and have doomed us all with my amazing luck. Now lets hope that our gun-wizard can solve our problems before we loose too much of our empire.
[X] Waylon casts his magick, sending a spell more complex than can be imagined towards the angel.
[X] Waylon casts his magick, sending a spell more complex than can be imagined towards the angel.
Don't tell me this is a Seraphim...
I have to admit I find it deeply amusing that this guy pulled out all the stops, damned his immortal soul, and magically nuked everyone with his holy hand grenade…
And somehow failed to take out any of our super important guys.
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
We got rather lucky, but RNGesus seems to have blessed this quest.
[X] Waylon casts his magick, sending a spell more complex than can be imagined towards the angel.
[X] Waylon casts his magick, sending a spell more complex than can be imagined towards the angel.
Dies Romae
- Location
- Albania
- Pronouns
- He/Him
There is no time for second-guessing or hesitation. The incantation leaves Waylon's lips with more speed than he thought imaginable, taking screaming chunks of his own soul with it.
Invisibly, it rockets towards the divine being. Interwoven over and over again into a matrix of unequalled potential, the spell is perfect by its source, a human spirit, willingly given to match an inhuman spirit, willingly summoned. Waylon drops immediately after the casting, pale, shuddering and bleeding from no obvious source.
The Ultimate Trick
A Mortal
Roll=1(I rolled this three times and picked the worst roll in accordance with the angels bullshit modifiers, kill me.)-100(Wondermaker)-150(Soul-Forged Spell)-60(The Source)=-309(Critical Success)
VS
The Angel of Silence
Roll=68-900(Highest of the Seraphim)=-832
Somehow, the human wins.
The angel shudders, it's ineffable light fading away as the magick does its arcane work. The corpse of Matthias shudders as arcane might courses through it. In a moment, the divinity disappears, and that same corpse blinks open eyes of gleaming light.
Reacting instantly, Stolas turns, crying out in a dozen voices that are all shrill, piercing and demented. "In the body!" Roots slam out to enwrap the now standing body of what once was Matthias whilst the very stars themselves falsify prophecy, drawing out new futures into reality.
Prince of Owls
Roll=12-220(Prince of Owls Unleashed)-60(The Source)=-268
Vs
A Bound Divinity
Roll=6-400(Trapped by Mortality)=-394
Yet none of it matters. The roots fade into dust and ash as it speaks, so much quieter now. Stolas drags more grand gems to shield him, but it is a useless effort as he falls apart into salt at the focused strength of the Messenger. A history unfathomable ended in a single moment.
However, the precious seconds bought by that bring a powerful response from the remaining few. The Daughter pours her argent power into Gjon, seeing the truth in the prophecies provided by the late Demon. "We cannot do this alone, muster your strengths as one!" She cries out, crystalline voice echoing over any noise, clearly sounding to all nearby. Victorinus charges with the Kukudh and Muji, having pulled himself free of a deep pit, hoping to buy time for whatever plan his allies have.
Heroes Charge
Roll=26-350(Might Combined)=-324
Vs
Angel of Silence
Roll=31-400(Trapped By Mortality)=-369
The Kukudh arrive first, only to fall apart into points of stardust as their weapons meet flesh and steel. Before their cloud can reach the ground, Victorinus and Muji burst through it, brandishing fists and anger.
Their colossal blows push it back, even causing droplets of blood to come from its mouth, but eventually, it learns, raising a hand to catch Victorinus's hand like one would a babe and with a gaze, forcing his being to detonate into a spray of meat.
Muji lasts a few moments longer, supernatural skill as a warrior allowing him to avoid that fate, but even he is to be overcome. A most beautiful song comes from the animated corpse, glorious in its notes and perfect in its harmonies, forcing Muji to stop in his tracks, mind overcome.
Like a stringless puppet, he falls to the ground lifeless as that ineffable feeling of wrongness which comes when destiny is broken pulses out like a bell tolling. The angel looks around afterwards, seeking something.
Gjon stands, surrounded by death and chaos with only his ethereal ally by his side. The last mortal in this field and the last hope for his people, he makes a choice. The Daughter looks at him with a sorrowful beauty, understanding and pitying. She drifts over to him, placing a hand on his face from which golden filament pierces into his skin.
He screams as they do, seeking deep into the bone whilst the angel simply watches, tilting its stolen head. Gjon's cries are cut short suddenly as his eyes blacken over, only golden pupils distinctive on them. With the weight of sagas, he moves toward his enemy.
His Father's Son
Roll=1(Why)-700(A Deity Manifest)=-699(Critical Success)
VS
Divinity Manifest
Roll=68-400(Trapped By Mortality)=332
Oh no
The angel speaks, but its language falters as it no longer has power in this realm. A greater force presents itself, making the stolen shape stiffen. "Child." Gjon's voice comes out unchanged, yet somehow unknowable, unfathomable and unnerving. "This is my land." The earth heals, cracks forming as grass forces its way free into gleaming daylight.
The world seems to heal all around his embodiment, grass and trees regrowing whilst his own armour reforges itself in gleaming gold. A divinity, dark and ancient by comparison, fueling its advance.
Gjon's march continues forward until he reaches the puppet, blade in hand. It strikes out, but its mortal frame limits its strength, unable to do much more than move Gjon's colossal physique now pierced through with golden filament. He raises the blade and with a finality which ascends beyond a simple act and resounds across all of Creation, he slays it.
The wound spills open with glistening grace that is absorbed into Gjon, bringing a crooked, wrong smile across their face, the unearthly sensation grows as something is birthed, and the balance of the universe shifts.
As the power flows, Waylon shifts, regaining his wits and looking towards the newly created demiurge, realizing what has come to be. Focusing on the mystic working that still lies deeply embedded in that same grace, he awaits the last possible moment, for every matrix to flow into the creature possessing Gjon and settle in just as deep.
As the God enfleshed turns towards the source with utter glee on its stolen face, Waylon speaks, words on his lips driving out whatever fragments of power he can draw on still inside himself. Absolute agony overcomes him, the pain of a soul burnt out with exertion driving him from consciousness and forcing his frame still.
It stops, confused by the feeling of the spellcraft tugging on it. As Waylon shudders, ceasing all movement, the figure of Gjon grows ethereal, translucent and stretched towards the south. Gjon's stolen eyes widen, a roar of hatred coming free from its throat before Waylon's spell drags its soul away, screaming and tearing into its elder prison.
A colossal form, chthonic and terrible, shadows the horizon as it is forced away to the place that shares its correspondent energies. Mount Tomorr shudders as once again, a God is trapped beneath it, this time against its will, iron chains of stolen angelic power forcing it down even as it tries to escape.
Gjon's corpse falls forward only to be caught by the Daughter who gently lowers him to the ground. Turning to Waylon, she walks near his unconscious frame, a coy smile on her face, and leans down, pressing her palm that gleams with moonlight onto his chest, letting it sink downwards and not reappear. He shifts, skin regaining colour, but still unconscious.
In a place of restored earth surrounded by hundreds of miles of ruination, the Daughter vanishes, leaving Waylon alone with the torn open corpse of Corvinus, skeletal remains of Victorinus and, of course, the Source itself.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Congratulations, you've made it to the end! With the Source secured and all rivals of equivalent power dead, leaderless or locked away in a mountain, an epilogue post will decide the last few things that need deciding, but that will be later as I consider as many angles as I can.
Excellent work, questers.
Invisibly, it rockets towards the divine being. Interwoven over and over again into a matrix of unequalled potential, the spell is perfect by its source, a human spirit, willingly given to match an inhuman spirit, willingly summoned. Waylon drops immediately after the casting, pale, shuddering and bleeding from no obvious source.
The Ultimate Trick
A Mortal
Roll=1(I rolled this three times and picked the worst roll in accordance with the angels bullshit modifiers, kill me.)-100(Wondermaker)-150(Soul-Forged Spell)-60(The Source)=-309(Critical Success)
VS
The Angel of Silence
Roll=68-900(Highest of the Seraphim)=-832
Somehow, the human wins.
The angel shudders, it's ineffable light fading away as the magick does its arcane work. The corpse of Matthias shudders as arcane might courses through it. In a moment, the divinity disappears, and that same corpse blinks open eyes of gleaming light.
Reacting instantly, Stolas turns, crying out in a dozen voices that are all shrill, piercing and demented. "In the body!" Roots slam out to enwrap the now standing body of what once was Matthias whilst the very stars themselves falsify prophecy, drawing out new futures into reality.
Prince of Owls
Roll=12-220(Prince of Owls Unleashed)-60(The Source)=-268
Vs
A Bound Divinity
Roll=6-400(Trapped by Mortality)=-394
Yet none of it matters. The roots fade into dust and ash as it speaks, so much quieter now. Stolas drags more grand gems to shield him, but it is a useless effort as he falls apart into salt at the focused strength of the Messenger. A history unfathomable ended in a single moment.
However, the precious seconds bought by that bring a powerful response from the remaining few. The Daughter pours her argent power into Gjon, seeing the truth in the prophecies provided by the late Demon. "We cannot do this alone, muster your strengths as one!" She cries out, crystalline voice echoing over any noise, clearly sounding to all nearby. Victorinus charges with the Kukudh and Muji, having pulled himself free of a deep pit, hoping to buy time for whatever plan his allies have.
Heroes Charge
Roll=26-350(Might Combined)=-324
Vs
Angel of Silence
Roll=31-400(Trapped By Mortality)=-369
The Kukudh arrive first, only to fall apart into points of stardust as their weapons meet flesh and steel. Before their cloud can reach the ground, Victorinus and Muji burst through it, brandishing fists and anger.
Their colossal blows push it back, even causing droplets of blood to come from its mouth, but eventually, it learns, raising a hand to catch Victorinus's hand like one would a babe and with a gaze, forcing his being to detonate into a spray of meat.
Muji lasts a few moments longer, supernatural skill as a warrior allowing him to avoid that fate, but even he is to be overcome. A most beautiful song comes from the animated corpse, glorious in its notes and perfect in its harmonies, forcing Muji to stop in his tracks, mind overcome.
Like a stringless puppet, he falls to the ground lifeless as that ineffable feeling of wrongness which comes when destiny is broken pulses out like a bell tolling. The angel looks around afterwards, seeking something.
Gjon stands, surrounded by death and chaos with only his ethereal ally by his side. The last mortal in this field and the last hope for his people, he makes a choice. The Daughter looks at him with a sorrowful beauty, understanding and pitying. She drifts over to him, placing a hand on his face from which golden filament pierces into his skin.
He screams as they do, seeking deep into the bone whilst the angel simply watches, tilting its stolen head. Gjon's cries are cut short suddenly as his eyes blacken over, only golden pupils distinctive on them. With the weight of sagas, he moves toward his enemy.
His Father's Son
Roll=1(Why)-700(A Deity Manifest)=-699(Critical Success)
VS
Divinity Manifest
Roll=68-400(Trapped By Mortality)=332
Oh no
The angel speaks, but its language falters as it no longer has power in this realm. A greater force presents itself, making the stolen shape stiffen. "Child." Gjon's voice comes out unchanged, yet somehow unknowable, unfathomable and unnerving. "This is my land." The earth heals, cracks forming as grass forces its way free into gleaming daylight.
The world seems to heal all around his embodiment, grass and trees regrowing whilst his own armour reforges itself in gleaming gold. A divinity, dark and ancient by comparison, fueling its advance.
Gjon's march continues forward until he reaches the puppet, blade in hand. It strikes out, but its mortal frame limits its strength, unable to do much more than move Gjon's colossal physique now pierced through with golden filament. He raises the blade and with a finality which ascends beyond a simple act and resounds across all of Creation, he slays it.
The wound spills open with glistening grace that is absorbed into Gjon, bringing a crooked, wrong smile across their face, the unearthly sensation grows as something is birthed, and the balance of the universe shifts.
As the power flows, Waylon shifts, regaining his wits and looking towards the newly created demiurge, realizing what has come to be. Focusing on the mystic working that still lies deeply embedded in that same grace, he awaits the last possible moment, for every matrix to flow into the creature possessing Gjon and settle in just as deep.
As the God enfleshed turns towards the source with utter glee on its stolen face, Waylon speaks, words on his lips driving out whatever fragments of power he can draw on still inside himself. Absolute agony overcomes him, the pain of a soul burnt out with exertion driving him from consciousness and forcing his frame still.
It stops, confused by the feeling of the spellcraft tugging on it. As Waylon shudders, ceasing all movement, the figure of Gjon grows ethereal, translucent and stretched towards the south. Gjon's stolen eyes widen, a roar of hatred coming free from its throat before Waylon's spell drags its soul away, screaming and tearing into its elder prison.
A colossal form, chthonic and terrible, shadows the horizon as it is forced away to the place that shares its correspondent energies. Mount Tomorr shudders as once again, a God is trapped beneath it, this time against its will, iron chains of stolen angelic power forcing it down even as it tries to escape.
Gjon's corpse falls forward only to be caught by the Daughter who gently lowers him to the ground. Turning to Waylon, she walks near his unconscious frame, a coy smile on her face, and leans down, pressing her palm that gleams with moonlight onto his chest, letting it sink downwards and not reappear. He shifts, skin regaining colour, but still unconscious.
In a place of restored earth surrounded by hundreds of miles of ruination, the Daughter vanishes, leaving Waylon alone with the torn open corpse of Corvinus, skeletal remains of Victorinus and, of course, the Source itself.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Congratulations, you've made it to the end! With the Source secured and all rivals of equivalent power dead, leaderless or locked away in a mountain, an epilogue post will decide the last few things that need deciding, but that will be later as I consider as many angles as I can.
Excellent work, questers.
Rome survives.
Our alchemical progress is stunted. We may, may, never exceed the mastery we have now, at least not for decades or centuries to come. But we will perservere.
I wish we could get Waylon to look over the Iroikos program if we had the chance. From what I've gathered from discussions with relevant parties, the primary issue with the program is the spiritual strain, rather than physical. Something that, while stolas has experience with due to demonhood, he doesnt excel at it like others of his ilk. Waylon on the otherhand could very well alleviate some of that strain, or remove it entirely.
At least we've given him something he can rub in merlins face. the bushy bearded bastard's never bound an angel into a god and then used that to bind a god with its own power as the seal in a mystical chinese finger trap of literally biblical proportions.
Our alchemical progress is stunted. We may, may, never exceed the mastery we have now, at least not for decades or centuries to come. But we will perservere.
I wish we could get Waylon to look over the Iroikos program if we had the chance. From what I've gathered from discussions with relevant parties, the primary issue with the program is the spiritual strain, rather than physical. Something that, while stolas has experience with due to demonhood, he doesnt excel at it like others of his ilk. Waylon on the otherhand could very well alleviate some of that strain, or remove it entirely.
At least we've given him something he can rub in merlins face. the bushy bearded bastard's never bound an angel into a god and then used that to bind a god with its own power as the seal in a mystical chinese finger trap of literally biblical proportions.
guys we lost Stolas, how do save scum