I would be okay with this as well. We are going to be in shape for when we get to Beorward, I just hope Cyril finds Spherical to his liking. We've also got the possible Storm/Vengeance combo later for when we fight Omerus and have to punch through his magic BS.
Catalyst Quest: Death Defiant & Catalyst Quest: Panacea
- Thread starter Alaric
- Start date
- Original Mature Fantasy Horror
Alaric
⠀
(Alright guys. Got a nearly even split here, but the majority wins out for Mercy+Agri. You know I normally don't do majority vote but since these are all mutually exclusive, that's what we'll go for. Noting all of your concerns as well! At this time I will call for a roll. Give me just a moment to type up the modifiers. Please do not roll just yet.)
Chapter 98: Closing In - Part 2 (Roll Required)
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 98: Closing In - Part 2
>Roll 1d100.
>Because you are blessed by all of the Gods, the best of the first 3 rolls will be used.
>The winning roll will have a modifier of -5.
+40 OVERWHELMING OVERKILL (You and Sloane are literally a force of nature. She's starting to really hurt, though.)
+35 THE LORD OF NIGHTMARES (Totally mitigating Father Wilhelm's pain was a great call!)
+20 FAITH OF A GODDESS (Your golden girl has your back, no matter what.)
+20 MASTERY (Despite the many concerns you have regarding using Mercy's and Agriculture's abilities at a Time like this, you do know how to work with Them better than anyone else.)
+15 CONQUEROR OF THE RUINS (You are in your element.)
+5 BACKUP (Father Pevrel is VERY limited in what he can do without giving away his position, but if nothing else, he won't let Father Wilhelm fall.)
-10 ONLY HUMAN (Your physical limitations are a serious hindrance at a Time like this, and so long as you are invoking Agriculture, they will continue to become exacerbated.)
-20 TRICK UP HIS SLEEVE (You suspect that Omerus is up to no good. Stopping in place is your only real strategy, beyond relying on the power of the Gods. Hopefully it will be enough.)
-50 LAIR OF THE ENEMY (Omerus still appears to have absolute control over your surroundings.)
-60 SOUL ACHE (This malus will continue to rise until you have stopped invoking.)
+35 THE LORD OF NIGHTMARES (Totally mitigating Father Wilhelm's pain was a great call!)
+20 FAITH OF A GODDESS (Your golden girl has your back, no matter what.)
+20 MASTERY (Despite the many concerns you have regarding using Mercy's and Agriculture's abilities at a Time like this, you do know how to work with Them better than anyone else.)
+15 CONQUEROR OF THE RUINS (You are in your element.)
+5 BACKUP (Father Pevrel is VERY limited in what he can do without giving away his position, but if nothing else, he won't let Father Wilhelm fall.)
-10 ONLY HUMAN (Your physical limitations are a serious hindrance at a Time like this, and so long as you are invoking Agriculture, they will continue to become exacerbated.)
-20 TRICK UP HIS SLEEVE (You suspect that Omerus is up to no good. Stopping in place is your only real strategy, beyond relying on the power of the Gods. Hopefully it will be enough.)
-50 LAIR OF THE ENEMY (Omerus still appears to have absolute control over your surroundings.)
-60 SOUL ACHE (This malus will continue to rise until you have stopped invoking.)
WAIFU FLEX!
Lets get through this whole.
Finally! By the grace of RNG,
Chapter 99: Repetition
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 99: Repetition
You have pushed yourself harder than likely any other man alive.
Rather than slow down, your strides are rhythmic.
With all of the chaos raging around you, the strain of the Gods, and the feeling that something is terribly wrong, you prefer to mentally take a step back.
While in this state of mind, you are certain that Omerus is letting you come to him. Perhaps it is because he has done something to Father Pevrel that you are not quite aware of. Things are going almost too well on your end. With the floor stabilizing, it may be your best option to stay put, and do your best to communicate with Nick. After all, something about this entire situation is off.
Your hands work themselves together, almost of their own accord. You need protection.
Mercy...
The corridors you traverse have become increasingly emptier, until you and your allies are all that is left. The heavy sound of your footfalls echoes for what feels like miles around.
Sloane slows her procession. It's likely that her vision is swimming from blood loss, or that she's alarmed enough by your lack of response to try and bring everyone to a halt. You need to fix Father Wilhelm's arm and stitch up Sister Parker before she drops. Your mission will become a whole lot harder if you have to carry your allies to the finish line, but the thought of literally carrying a grown man and woman out of here isn't such a bad thing.
I nearly caved and invoked Flesh just a few minutes ago, didn't I?
Your hands are steady. So is your breath. You are still a demon of speed, underneath it all.
Your eyes trail downwards, for one, horrible second.
Mercy.
The ache in your chest might not be from anguish alone. It could very well be that running at your weight could finally be what does you in. There is little doubt that Mercy has been what's keeping your heart from giving out, between the insane stressors of your life, and the unimaginable strain being put on your body. There is little point in estimating how heavy you are at this point, too.
But the point remains that the fraying edges of your sanity want more.
You could invoke two more Gods.
Even three.
What difference does it make?
You come to a stop, hands to your knees, breathing so hard you can't speak.
Omerus could sweep the floor with me at this point.
I can hardly run.
Sweat drips from your brow onto the granite floor. Your shins are throbbing, your knees feel as if they're ready to blow, and you can't remember the last time your gut ached this badly.
Agriculture is putting your very character in a bad spot. This isn't like you. You want to be in shape when you leave this place. When you arrive in Beorward. When you see Cyril and Ofelia again.
It seems that Father Pevrel and Father Wilhelm have realized that you have stopped following them. The priest of Dream comes to a stop a few hundred yards down the tunnel, and doubles back to join you and Sloane.
For a good, long moment, you consider dropping your invocation of Agriculture. Even with the sheer amount of power and love running through you, you know how bad She is for you. Every conceivable red flag has been waving in your face for the last several months of your life, but you keep coming back. Time, after Time, after Time again.
You long for clarity. Knowledge. Wisdom. And for just a moment, you would like nothing more than for something immaterial. Spirit's name is on your lips.
Sloane— bless her heart— hasn't strayed from your side for a moment. She doesn't touch you. She doesn't lean down to offer you any words of reassurance. The priestess of growth keeps her eyes on the world around you, and speaks to you alone. "Some competition you turned out to be. Are you telling me you've had enough?"
You shake your head. Pollen dusts into the air from your eyes and skin. You barely registered what Sister Parker even said. She is not the real reason you make up your mind, after all.
It's the damn pressure in you. The ache in your soul itself.
It's uncertain who you are speaking to, but you whisper, "I've never wanted to stop."
You laugh bitterly, and stand tall. The pain in the rest of your body is a trifle compared to it. Nothing else could matter more.
You have a life to live. Goddesses to wed and raise a family with. Gods to weaponize. A nation to save. The Catalyst to cure.
You clasp your hands together, bow your head, and pray for forgiveness from the one woman who has always held your heart.
"Mercy."
Chapter 100: The Edge of Disaster
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 100: The Edge of Disaster
The ground beneath your feet shatters in every direction, as the heat of the sun and the weight of the world bears down on Omerus' feeble attempts at total domination. Sloane lunges forward, grabs you by your arm, and hoists you away from the shattered floor. You stagger forward as the ground crumbles away, leaving nothing in its wake but a void of utter nothingness.
You hang on the edge of the precipice, breathing hard, but alive and terribly unwell. A deep-seated conflict between your patron deities feels like it's going to split your skull in two.
You laugh in a disjointed, pained, and unsettling way, stepping away from Sloane and closer towards Father Wilhelm. He looks horribly worried.
"What?" You flex your hands and arms, watching as poisoned, lime green gold pools in the palm of your hands. It feels like the very air you breathe is a weapon. "Don't think I didn't consider worse. This is infinitely saner than the alternatives."
You like to imagine that you've made Omerus pause. Utter silence reigns in the sorcerer's lair for a few moments.
You are awash in a haze of fullness and euphoria that cannot be eclipsed by any other experience on earth.
Sloane and Father Wilhelm simply stare at you for a moment in exasperation, before realizing they have no room to talk.
The three of you all stare at each other for another moment.
It is far too quiet for anyone's liking.
You glance around the corridor, but it is impossible to not pick up on the sight of your body in your peripheral vision. You start to laugh again. Not miserably, or in resignation, but out of genuine love. "We are going to be in shape for when we get to Beorward. I just hope that Cyril finds spherical to his liking—"
Sloane snorts, but seems to be the only one amused by the jab.
Father Wilhelm actually raises a hand for everyone to quiet down. "Do you hear that?"
You haven't really heard much of anything. You've been so focused on sensation, not to mention performing mental gymnastics that would make a priest of Flesh and Spirit weep—
"Shit." It would seem that Sloane has heard whatever it is, too. She tenses, snapping her battering ram in half, and reshaping it into a pair of monstrous, jagged, wooden swords in the next instant. They're cut to intensely sharp edges through the priestess' sheer force of will, and they look cool enough to distract you for a moment longer.
The ground up ahead trembles. You may have not heard an approach, but your attunement to the earth has its motion running through your soul itself.
You pray that Nick is at your back, Storm in front of your allies, and spread your hands wide. A tower shield made of solid light and gold spreads from your outstretched fingers, across your shield arm. You extend your free hand towards Sloane, and from a few feet away, motion for the wound in her side to mend itself shut.
The priestess gasps slightly, as molten metal weaves itself over her skin, painlessly cauterizing the gnarled and twisted injury. You snap your fingers, and the weave of gold interlaces with a spread of a soothing, natural balm.
Sister Parker looks up at you with wide, green eyes, and silently mouths one word: "Thanks."
A deep sigh leaves Father Wilhelm. He gets directly behind you, and waits while you put a hand to his shoulder. "Do you think you'll be alright," your mentor asks, closely watching the hazy and hurt look in your eyes.
There was a hairline fracture in him after all.
You breathe deeply, not wanting to destroy your soul in the name of healing another man's body, but entirely at a loss for what else you can do. Reaching out—
"Richard." The sheer degree of concern in Father Wilhelm's voice actually gives you pause.
The thunderous footsteps in the distance are getting closer. You don't panic, but instead close your eyes, and do everything you can to not get distracted. Mercy is your guiding light. Your beacon. You might not be able to decide how to look after yourself, but you can at least focus on this.
"Please stay still."
If your pleading wasn't enough, the sheer urgency of the situation coerces Father Wilhelm into letting you heal him. Your work runs deeper than the skin. Deeper than muscle and bone. Compassion incarnate winds between the breaks in the man's body, and makes him whole once more.
"Let me see my Relic," you say.
The priest unsticks your locket from his bloody, paint-slick palms, and gives it right back to you. Not a shred of tension or pain seems to run through him. You fasten the chain around your neck with zero difficulty, utterly satisfied. Your tower shield is weightless and can be summoned or dispelled at-will, so you bring it back in a heartbeat, ready to take on the world and whatever this warped wizard wants to make of it.
Sloane's gaze hasn't left the end of the corridor for a second. It doesn't seem necessary, as what approaches is so monstrous, you would have to be blind to not see it.
From floor to ceiling comes staggering a parade of larger-than-life children's toys. At their forefront is a stuffed bear with a yellow and green hat, waving a baton made of human flesh twisted into a ten-foot-tall pole. At the bear's back is a faceless puppet dressed like a jester, with a hat covered in bells and stars that drags to the floor. Bouncing around the pair is a wooden dancer, whose legs are covered in wickedly sharp splinters.
All amusement has fallen from Sloane's face. "You've got to be shitting me."
Glancing from the endless precipice you all are precariously perched upon, then to the collection of constructs dead ahead, a nervous smile works its way across the Father of Creativity's face. "Omerus wants to play," he wryly says.
You dig in your heels, kick off from the edge of disaster, and charge straight at your likeness in the parade. The growl you let out is so animalistic, the animals up ahead almost pause.
Almost. With Sloane and Father Wilhelm hot on your heels, you push through a lethal maze of limbs, dismembered body parts, stuffed animals, and oversized playthings. The teddy bear's legs go up in flames from the sheer amount of heat that your shield gives off. The puppet at its back falls into a fit of hysterics at the sight, and tries blowing smoke and flame your way with a bloody noise-maker, but Father Wilhelm smothers the attack with a wave of paint and clouds.
A tower of building blocks covered in razors comes tumbling down from the side of the corridor, just as your shield is kicked dead-on by the massive doll's wooden legs. You stagger to the side, keeping up your frontal defense, but your entire right arm and side gets shredded by the attack. Every blade is coated with a viscous, black substance that looks like it could eat through anything.
You are immune to poison at Times like this, but this is something far more nefarious. You stagger ahead, almost blindly from the raw and mesmerizing agony the attack caused. The borders of your fried senses register that Sloane is right at your back, beating away a mob of giant wooden knights, deconstructing them plank by plank before they can reach you or Father Wilhelm. The pair of swords she created just a few minutes ago are constantly sharpened as they cut into the enemy, skewering them alive, and ripping them to shreds from within.
Dandelion light and the scent of yellow roses takes away the pain you're in. Mercy amplifies sensation, torment, and a solid sheet of gold that comes between your skin and the acid you've been coated in. It stops the reaction in its place, and your Goddess redoubles your defenses.
Just when you're ready to beg for more, the shield underhand suddenly flares to fill the entirety of the corridor, incinerating half of the wizard's parade, and leaving the rest stunned momentarily.
Your allies covered their eyes, or perhaps their Gods did. The instant he can get back ahead of you, Father Wilhelm grasps you by your right hand. The skin is totally raw in places, still being worked over by Mercy's light, but the priest doesn't falter. He pulls you along, looking completely convicted that he and Father Pevrel are on the right track towards tracking down the sadist responsible for this catastrophe.
Sloane is right behind you, almost walking backwards with how much effort she has placed on covering your ass. You follow suit, essentially reversing the formation so that Father Wilhelm is protected from the worst of the toy parade's assault. Every second that you spend healing and restoring your shield, another moment is spent building on Sloane's offense. The two of you create a blender of living death, between her whips and long-ranged attacks, and your barbed, scalding augments to the worst that she can muster.
It seems as if Omerus can't help himself any longer. The bastard's high-pitched laughter resonates throughout the tunnels. Every toy soldier and demented doll that stands before you doesn't relent in the assault for a second, but their mouths all move in unison, projecting the sorcerer's voice towards you.
"Are you having fun yet, my darling little playthings?"
>A ROLL MAY BE REQUIRED FOR ALL OF THE FOLLOWING.
>WE HAVE RESUMED "NORMAL" VOTING WINDOWS (FOR CATALYST QUEST).
>THIS VOTE WILL REMAIN OPEN UNTIL AT LEAST TOMORROW EVENING (THURSDAY, JULY 21ST, EST).
>A] Be the bigger man in all ways, and don't give into this bastard's attempts to get under your skin. You can keep this up. He's obviously trying to wear you all out, and you are not about to give an inch.
>B] You are going to die if you don't find a way out from this nightmare. Try communicating to Father Pevrel that you need to get these toys off of your ass, even if it wears you all out even more. You have to find a way to regroup, breathe, and let your allies do the thinking.
>C] It's obvious that Omerus is trying to wear you out, but you can't think of any alternatives...
>1] Drop your dual invocation to solely invoke Storm. Destroy everything that comes in your path, up to and including Omerus.
>2] The initial strategy of going in guns-blazing with Sloane is obviously not cutting it. Focus 100% on defense. You know that if you really focus yours, Mercy's, and Agriculture's efforts, NOTHING should be able to touch you.
>3] Ask Father Wilhelm to pull out all the stops. You know he's been holding back to conserve his energy, but you need his best NOW.
>D] You're a clever man. This wizard might fancy himself to be unrivaled, but you're ready to prove him wrong. (Write-in some way to try and outsmart Omerus.)
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C1.
All or nothing.
All or nothing.
- Location
- USA
>A] Be the bigger man in all ways, and don't give into this bastard's attempts to get under your skin. You can keep this up. He's obviously trying to wear you all out, and you are not about to give an inch.
We are indomitable.
We are indomitable.
Alaric
⠀
(A member of the Discord server was asking why you all hate Omerus so intensely, so I figured I would reply here to encourage discussion in this thread!
In short:
In short:
- There have been poisonings nation-wide that were indirectly and directly Omerus' fault. You treated the worst of it in the capital city back in book 3 (Calunoth), which saved the lives of hundreds of people, but fucking destroyed your body and still killed countless innocents. Some of the other poisonings have taken place in Wearmoor, but that's mostly been Tathan's problem. (Brother Tathan Morgan being the leading expert on poison from the Church of Agriculture.)
- You have sworn to Tathan to put a stop to the death and mayhem that Omerus has caused.
- Omerus trained many sorcerers (at least over 80) in the art of Magic, with the express purpose of bringing about the fall of Eadric (your home). These sorcerers created a rip in the fabric of reality, and you guys invoked Time for the first time to try and save the fucking world from annihilation by a demon who could devour stars. That was back in book 8, Light Sentence.
- Of the sorcerers you captured alive and questioned, one of them was Omerus' ex-wife, Oriel Hudson. Her and her children had been tortured under her husband's hands. You gave her a second lease on life, promised to find Omerus, and are sworn to bring him to justice. This is one of the primary reasons that Father Pevrel accompanied you across the country, as it is his job (as the Justiciar of Corcaea) to deal judgement out to criminals in Corcaea.
- Omerus is in cahoots with Morris and Stace, your two greatest human enemies. The two guys who were responsible for your confinement within the Church of Mercy for 8 years, and have sought to make your life unbearable for almost as long as you've been alive. Just by association, you have due cause to dislike this dude.
- The usage of Magic disrupts and destroys what is, meaning the Gods domains, and by extension, the Gods Themselves. Omerus very likely knows that this is the case, meaning every party trick he's pulled is directly hurting your lovers (and the rest of the pantheon) with him knowing full well how much damage is being done.
- He's also just a really big asshole, apparently.
Florin
Priest of Yech
>B] You are going to die if you don't find a way out from this nightmare. Try communicating to Father Pevrel that you need to get these toys off of your ass, even if it wears you all out even more. You have to find a way to regroup, breathe, and let your allies do the thinking.
STRONGLY opposing using Storm.
STRONGLY opposing using Storm.
Alaric
⠀
(Could you please give an explanation for your opposition? I always take these into consideration but the rationale is needed.)
Florin
Priest of Yech
Storm invocations are notoriously bad for us, in our condition they could very quickly turn deadly. We haven't even SEEN our main target yet, it would be a immense investment for literally no gain. It will tank both our health and soul for what are just a bunch of obvious distractions. It is a VERY bad idea and not at all sustainable, especially when our current set up is working. Our coup de grace is Pevrel, our job is getting him to the point where he can actually activate. Right now we are basically glorified test rats running around this maze Omerus made, have faith in our allies and stick to the plan.
>D] You're a clever man. This wizard might fancy himself to be unrivaled, but you're ready to prove him wrong. (Write-in some way to try and outsmart Omerus).
I'm thinking that we should drop Agriculture and tag in Spirit instead. We are lost in what appears to be an endless magic hallway and we can't see where these enemies are coming from. It might be better if we switch to support role to facilitate protection and communication; let Sloane and Wilhelm deal the damage. If we need Agriculture's help we still have access to the Green Thumb.
I'm also reticent to have Storm and Mercy together. She hinted at some issues with him and I'm not sure this is the place to unpack it.
I'm thinking that we should drop Agriculture and tag in Spirit instead. We are lost in what appears to be an endless magic hallway and we can't see where these enemies are coming from. It might be better if we switch to support role to facilitate protection and communication; let Sloane and Wilhelm deal the damage. If we need Agriculture's help we still have access to the Green Thumb.
I'm also reticent to have Storm and Mercy together. She hinted at some issues with him and I'm not sure this is the place to unpack it.
Chapter 100: The Edge of Disaster - Part 2 (Roll Required)
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 100: The Edge of Disaster - Part 2
>Roll 1d100.
>Because you are blessed by all of the Gods, the best of the first 3 rolls will be used.
>The winning roll will have a modifier of -5.
+40 TRANSCENDENCE (Invoking Mercy and Agriculture simultaneously puts you a cut above the rest.)
+35 THE PARAGON OF GROWTH (Sloane is literally a force of nature, and is now totally healed from her injuries!)
+35 THE LORD OF NIGHTMARES (Nice job getting Father Wilhelm back on his feet!)
+15 THE FATHER OF PROTECTION (Playing to your strengths as a healer and master of support is a great idea.)
+15 CONQUEROR OF THE RUINS (You are in your element.)
+15 THE LORD OF SHADOWS (Communicating to Father Pevrel about your hunt could potentially compromise your position, and he might not be able to fully join the fight, but his involvement is well worth the risk.)
-15 ONLY HUMAN (Your physical limitations are a serious hindrance at a Time like this, and so long as you are invoking Agriculture, they will continue to become exacerbated.)
-25 TOYS ON PARADE (Your enemy's twisted sense of humor is no laughing matter.)
-50 LAIR OF THE ENEMY (Omerus still appears to have absolute control over your surroundings.)
-70 SOUL ACHE (This malus will continue to rise until you have stopped invoking.)
+35 THE PARAGON OF GROWTH (Sloane is literally a force of nature, and is now totally healed from her injuries!)
+35 THE LORD OF NIGHTMARES (Nice job getting Father Wilhelm back on his feet!)
+15 THE FATHER OF PROTECTION (Playing to your strengths as a healer and master of support is a great idea.)
+15 CONQUEROR OF THE RUINS (You are in your element.)
+15 THE LORD OF SHADOWS (Communicating to Father Pevrel about your hunt could potentially compromise your position, and he might not be able to fully join the fight, but his involvement is well worth the risk.)
-15 ONLY HUMAN (Your physical limitations are a serious hindrance at a Time like this, and so long as you are invoking Agriculture, they will continue to become exacerbated.)
-25 TOYS ON PARADE (Your enemy's twisted sense of humor is no laughing matter.)
-50 LAIR OF THE ENEMY (Omerus still appears to have absolute control over your surroundings.)
-70 SOUL ACHE (This malus will continue to rise until you have stopped invoking.)