On the Arc of Oblivion
Sometime in the Age of Heroes, Before the Rise of Valyria
As Ser Richard charges the first of your foes a spell of
translocation seems to trigger independent of it,
laying dormant in the air, attached to some ephemeral ward. The thing is gone, leaving the knight's blade cutting only empty air... from which bursts a bolt of
withering unlife the knight is forced to parry on sheer instinct lest it flay the flesh from his bones. Even Oathkeeper cannot direct it back at a foe that is currently
nowhere.
As the aboleth reappears, wreathed in a
ring of sickly green lightning like an alien crown above its three hateful eyes, impenetrable darkness falls from the hissing breath of the Twins exhaling upon the other Deep One which finds itself seemingly without ward, but this is a place and a time of their choosing, if time the dim twilight could be called. With scarce a thought the enemy erects a wall of
glistening silver false-matter that blackens and shatters on contact, but serves its purpose still.
Lightning flashes once... twice, both bolts aimed at Lya, both finding their mark as she shudders in pain.
Lya takes 24 Damage
Curses swirl through your mind, cold and vicious, but with a single tenor.
Fuck these things and fuck the tide that dredged them from the depths of the world. By intricate gestures and tongue-tying syllables such as have broken many a battle mage of old you summon no mere line of destruction but a sphere, like a black sun risen over a frozen world. "Be Not!"
It seems for a moment the monster had run out of paths to slide on. It looks on in what seems to be frozen horror at the sphere on onrushing oblivion... tries to blink away, but cannot quite time it right.
Fate twists with a lurch that leaves you feeling sick to your stomach like a passenger on a storm-tossed ship and the foe manages to slip away.
"It is not foreseen," the thing proclaims grandly. Another bolt of hidden thunder expands first in your second sight right on top of Lya.
The sea cat pounces...
Crystal flares...
Thunder rolls impossibly loud...
This time Lya is ready. She banishes the thunder before it can tear through her and then strikes the illithid with a fist of
distilled arcane power, able to pass though even its ethereal form. Struck with a blow unbidden the eater of minds reels, unable to find its bearing.
You turn to look upon your first and obviously most dangerous foe. The sphere of darkness again fails to find its mark, though it carves a piece of tainted flesh out at a glancing blow. Thus onto it you wish the hatred more implacable than mortal men or deathless spirits of the Spheres could conjure, the
hatred of nature defiled. Though the power is yours the shape of it is the same one as those spirits of rock and tree who guided you to this place, to this time, to end what should never have begun.
Alas, it is not quite enough to contend with the alien will before you.
"If you would be Ironborn, then drown!" it sends mockingly as time tears like an whirlwind around it and it is gone, vanished into the depths of time where you cannot follow.
It is only as Quburn tears the staff from the illithid's hands before dispelling the shroud that you realize what the aboleth had meant. A
great wave black a midnight is rising from the sea to sweep aside all who stand upon the hill.
It is only then you hear the screams start. The Ironborn are awake and aware again.
What do you do?
[] Fake the Drowned God saving them from the wave with illusion as well as true magic
[] Just dispel the wave and let someone else finish the pledge, the less you meddle the better for keeping time on its course
[] Write in
OOC: This was really complicated to write what with all the swift actions, immediate actions, move actions used for something other than moving and spells hanging midair because they had technically been delayed. Hopefully it's understandable.
