The Final Battle (Part Seven) New
The Final Battle (Part Seven)
Floating high in the air, Lyria Serrat, the Mystic Path's mistress of illusions, watches her puppets dance. You wonder if she believes any of the stories she crafts for them. Does she truly see herself as you saw her while you were caught in her web?

"Do you think you could get close to her, Jana?" you ask. You don't know how she can be immune to the illusions that seem to be affecting everyone else, even some of the mightiest mages in Creation, but you're not about to question it. Not now, at least.

Jana puts on a grimly determined expression. "I can try."
"I'll do my best to make it easier for you," you promise her. There's no time to waste. A delay of even a few seconds could mean the death of someone you care about.

Fortunately, you already know what weapon you're going to use. Sound magic is rare and unusual, almost as much as portal magic, although presumably not for the same reasons; you can only hope there isn't a member of the Mystic Path who specializes in sound magic and has been murdering everyone else who knows how to use it. Because it is so rarely used, few mages bother to develop their defences against it. Admittedly, the magical defences they keep woven around themselves would probably protect them from most of what you're about to do, even if they're not specifically designed to defend against sound magic, but the ears are such delicate instruments that you only need to do a tiny amount of damage to them to cause significant harm. That's something Lyria won't be able to ignore.

You can't remember who originally taught you how to use sound magic, but you suspect it might have been Belle. She has dabbled in many different magical arts, purely out of scientific interest – and you're certain she'd like to learn about portal magic, if you ever have enough time to teach her – even if her primary areas of interest are necromancy and healing magic. Or it might have been Mishrak, who taught you all sorts of things he thought you might find useful, even back when you were a small child who had no idea of the power he was sharing with you, which could have had disastrous consequences if things had gone just a little differently. Or did you learn on your own, extrapolating from what you had been taught by others? Whoever it was, you're grateful. And you pray that this plan will be a success. Whether they know it or not, everyone is relying on you.

Lyria's illusions are shattered, scattered and torn to shreds by a piercing shriek that only she can hear – you've made sure of that – and for a moment she falters. In that moment, your allies realise their peril and ferociously counterattack, knowing that this might be their last chance of survival.

While Fyralio is still gazing gormlessly at her, Samaya conjures one of her portal blades and neatly decapitates him. In this vague, insubstantial place, his severed head seems to tumble through the air in slow motion. Perhaps for that reason, just to make sure that he's definitely dead, Samaya bisects him as well, slicing from neck to groin. There is a spray of blood and gore, cascading like a waterfall, oddly beautiful in a way that it surely wouldn't be if this wasn't at least partly a dream.

"I could kill you a thousand times and it would not be enough," says Samaya, tonelessly, discarding the dead man's scattered remains. "Nevertheless… this will have to do."

Then, she seemingly forgets about him and goes over to where Raef is still floating in the air, barely conscious, and focuses instead on tending to him.

On the ground, Lavokthagua rears back, snarling and ferocious, but unable to withstand the ghastly power of the Blood Sword. Everrarc Ninefingers laughs to see him beaten back. But then, as if it had grown out of the shadows, an enormous wolf appears behind him and seizes him in its jaws, worrying him like a rat.

"Forgot me, did you?" asks Hrolmar, who is somehow able to speak clearly despite the fact that his mouth is full. "Not a mistake you'll be making again in a hurry."

"No… I won't," says Everrarc, thrusting the Blood Sword behind him and managing to impale Hrolmar with it.

Suddenly, Hrolmar is both giant wolf and monstrous man, holding Everrarc in a death grip and refusing to let go. The Blood Sword remains trapped inside his body and cannot be extricated. The two combatants are flailing and thrashing about in a deepening pool of mud, blood and filthy water. Lavokthagua looms over them, holding back for fear of hitting Hrolmar by accident.

Elsewhere, you see Red Ruin, Yasaj, the orcs and a few Quellonian knights engage Sandalaimon's mutated monstrosities, cutting them down as if they were naught but scarecrows. In spite of everything, the Coalition army is still holding strong, led by Gelfavar, whose shadow is a wolf as huge and horrible as Hrolmar has become.

In desperation, Artaxas seems to absorb all of Jerrandiun's flames into himself, leaving his evil former master weaponless, for a few moments. Green Flame is similarly disarmed, but she reacts as stolidly as a professional soldier should. Her magical fire has vanished temporarily, but is replaced by long, chitinous claws. Striking as fast as a scorpion, she leaps at Jerrandiun, seizes him and begins to tear him apart.

Meanwhile, out of the corner of your eye, you see Jorantul push Nerya out of the way of the device Hurondus threw at her – and Sildar tries to pull him back – but then it is too late. There is an explosion. Nerya escapes unhurt, but there is nothing left of Sildar or Jorantul but a few glimmering fragments. You can't see that anything of them has survived.

"Are they dead? Yes," says Hurondus, cruelly. "They died for your sake. Foolishness..."

Nerya's face is contorted in a snarl of rage and hatred. Wranolf and Hengiadys suddenly appear next to her. Together, they will exact a horrible vengeance upon Hurondus.

You turn your head, searching for Belle and Drukhalion – how are they faring against Luth? But wherever they are, you don't see them.

Lyria turns to you with rage in her eyes. That stern, majestic, beautiful face is set in a silent scream. Blood drips from her ears. You wonder if that is a genuine consequence of the injury you've given her or if it's been distorted and exaggerated by the dream this place is merged with.

As she floats closer to you, you are made to feel the full effect of her powers of illusion. Your world is turned upside down. You feel wretched and wormlike, knowing that you have dared to stand against someone so pure and noble – more than that, you dared to attack her, as if your hands were worthy of touching her – and you are made to helpless cringe in the knowledge that you will be deservedly punished. There is nothing you can do. She is a queen, greater than any goddess, one of those who will save the world from frauds and false idols, who will uplift humanity beyond the stars, whereas you… you are nothing.

Somewhere in the back of mind, a part of you remains conscious and self-aware, despite Lyria's best efforts. That part of you can't help but wonder: does she believe her own lies? Is she trapped in her own web of illusions just as much as you are? Did she ever truly have good intentions, before she joined the Mystic Path? Or was that always a sham?

You are utterly helpless. You are about to be punished. There is nothing you can do. She is... There is a dead girl behind her.

Jana stabs her in the back. Again and again. Her cold iron dagger pierces through Lyria's illusions, revealing the truth that lies beneath.

Grievously wounded, Lyria turns on Jana. You know… you're aware that… you have but a moment to save your best friend's life.



What will Elys do next?
 
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My mind defaults to "portal cut" after Samaya's display, but I don't think Elys can do it in the Dream.

We haven't used Dragonbreath or Forcefields yet in this fight. Maybe we can combo them to fry her?
 
You can't remember who originally taught you how to use portal magic, but you suspect it might have been Belle.
Portal -> sound?
"I could kill you a thousand times and it would not be enough," says Samaya, tonelessly, discarding the dead man's scattered remains. "Nevertheless… this will have to do."
Yes, that's one!

Green Flame is similarly disarmed, but she reacts as stolidly as a professional soldier should. Her magical fire has vanished temporarily, but is replaced by long, chitinous claws. Striking as fast as a scorpion, she leaps at Jerrandiun, seizes him and begins to tear him apart.
Godspeed, Green Flame. Tear him apart. Show him who the real powerful one is when the magic's turned off.

Nerya escapes unhurt, but there is nothing left of Sildar or Jorantul but a few glimmering fragments.
Oh no... maybe... maybe their god has them?

We haven't used Dragonbreath or Forcefields yet in this fight. Maybe we can combo them to fry her?
I think maybe exactly right now is the time for brute force. We jump her and bite her neck, we grow fangs and sink in. We have dragon strength within us, we should crush her bones.
 
Yeah, I've made a few edits to the above chapter. Let me know if there's anything else I've missed.

We haven't used Dragonbreath or Forcefields yet in this fight. Maybe we can combo them to fry her?
How would that work? I mean, dragon breath on its own might work, but how would the force fields help?

I think maybe exactly right now is the time for brute force. We jump her and bite her neck, we grow fangs and sink in. We have dragon strength within us, we should crush her bones.
By calling upon Mishrak's power, you could do that, for sure.
 
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Forcefields to make it so she has no where to run from the Dragonbreath on the open side.
So we don't cook Jana with her, honestly. They're standing right next to her and this is an indiscriminate attack. Also, if she tries to run she can't just run at Jana.
Heh. Those are all good reasons. I admit I didn't think too hard about what you might do.

All right, what happens next depends on whether you want to hit Lyria with a dragon breath or partially transform into a dragon and then savage her to death. 'Turn into a dragon' seems like the most popular choice so far.
 
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The Final Battle (Part Eight) New
The Final Battle (Part Eight)
You are utterly helpless. You are about to be punished. There is nothing you can do. She is... There is a dead girl behind her.

Jana stabs her in the back. Again and again. Her cold iron dagger pierces through Lyria's illusions, revealing the truth that lies beneath.

Grievously wounded, Lyria turns on Jana. You know… you're aware that… you have but a moment to save your best friend's life.
You're sure that if Lyria wasn't slowed by her injuries, she would have unleashed a deadly curse that would have frozen Jana's blood or flayed the flesh from her bones – or something like that. Fortunately, you are able to react faster than she can.

Calling upon Mishrak's power, you begin to transform, taking on dragon-like qualities, becoming something rather like Catharne – although you don't bother to transform all the way – you don't want to waste any time. And so, even as you throw yourself at Lyria and seize her head in your elongated jaws, your shape is still at least partially human.

There is a sickening crunch as your teeth bite down into her skull; then, her neck snaps and you hear a last, forlorn exhalation. The taste is… you try not to think about the taste. It's strangely sweet and has a creamy texture.

And then, she seems to fall out of your grasp. It is as if you were trying to catch smoke in a net. Her body crumbles and fades away to nothing before it can hit the ground. For a moment, you are gripped by worry that this is another illusion, that the real Lyria has escaped and you are trapped once again. Will you ever be free of such suspicions? Perhaps there will always be a nagging fear in the back of your mind that nothing in your life is real, but merely the creation of a cunning illusionist.

But then it occurs to you that there is no death in the Dreaming World – not really – merely the trappings of such. There are skull, bones and all kinds of morbid symbols, but anyone who dies here is sent somewhere else, like a forgotten character from an old children's tale. Just like what happened to Fyralio. And then Sildar and Jorantul. And now Lyria.

"Are you... are you all right, Jana?" you ask.

She nods, mutely.

Glancing around, you survey the battlefield. Bellona and Drukhalion appear to have defeated Luth; he is nowhere to be seen, while they are both still standing. However, Belle appears is leaning heavily on Drukhalion and both appear to be wounded. Green Flame has torn Jerrandiun apart; there is nothing left of him but dwindling specks. As far as you can tell, Artaxas Quin has been reduced to ashes. He sacrificed his life to defeat his former master.

Your father appears behind Everrarc Ninefingers, who is still being grappled by Hrolmar, although the werewolf appears to have lost much of his strength along with the blood that is seeping out of his terrible wounds.

"You killed my friend," says your father, sorrowfully, and you're unsure of whether he's referring to Pelathyne – whom Everrarc killed more than a decade ago – or Hrolmar, who is on the verge of death, here and now.

"I've… killed a lot of people," says Everrarc, with a savage grin. "More than you can count. Now… they don't matter anymore. Their lives… and deaths… are just a part of my legend."

"Just another story. One of millions. You're nothing special," your father replies, dispassionately. "You'll be forgotten just as quickly as any of them."

A blade appears in his hand. Before Everrarc can summon the strength to reply, he is stabbed through the heart. His body vanishes, just like all the others.

You dither for a moment, considering whether or not you should rush to Hrolmar's side and try to heal him, but you suspect it is already too late.

The old werewolf's eyes are misting over. "Gareth. Take care of Izzy. And Belle. And Elys," he murmurs. "All your girls. I never had any children of my own, but… I..." His eyes close. He says nothing more.

"Thank you for everything, old friend," says your father, sadly, as Hrolmar disappears.

By this time, having been robbed of his chance to strike back against Everrarc, Lavokthagua has turned his attention to the few mutated monstrosities and remnants of the Battalion of Torment that still remain. They don't put up much of a fight.

High in the air, Hurondus barely manages to dodge a gout of energy from Nerya Fair-Hair. By now, he must know that he is in deadly danger; his portal magic are greatly weakened here in the Dreaming World, he is surrounded by enemies, and all of the other members of the Mystic Path who came here with him are now dead.

He manages to create a twisted mockery of one of the impossibly sharp disks that appear to be Samaya's favoured weapon, launching it at Wranolf, cutting a deep gash into his side. As Hengiadys rushes to heal her wounded comrade, for a moment it seems that Hurondus is facing Nerya alone. Then, Raef and Samaya join the fray. And after that, the twinkling dust, all that remains of Sildar and Jorantul, seems to coalesce into an enormous carrion bird with steely eyes, bladelike talons and wings of sheet metal. The crashing sound of its wingbeats is almost painful to hear.

"What's this? It seems like the battle's almost over," says Mawroth the mercenary god, whom some call the Father of Crows. "What a shame."

"Fight for me," says Hurondus, pleadingly. "I'll pay you a king's ransom!"

"No deal," says Mawroth. "You killed my boys."

"They've died before," Hurondus points out. "Soon enough, they'll come around, in a field somewhere, with only vague memories–"

"Even so. I've got standards," says Mawroth.

"You leave me no choice," says Hurondus, pulling what looks like a blood-red gemstone out of his pocket. "Come forth, Imryl Mamnioch, greatest of the Demon Lords!"

A tall and shadowy figure appears, barely more than a distant silhouette, like a shape in the clouds, towering over the battlefield and all of the combatants. You feel its burning gaze sweep over you and all of your allies. Is Hurondus trying to summon an army of demons? Can he possibly succeed?



How will Elys react to these developments?
 
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This might be the time to call on the full power of Mishrak and blast Agon before he has a chance to succeed. With all the other present Path members dead and clean up of the Aspitis in hand, Elys probably won't be needed for the rest of the fight.

I'm not sure whether Mamnioch will show up, because it involves going into the domain of a very powerful god who has killed one of his peers in said domain, but better safe than sorry.
 
But then it occurs to you that there is no death in the Dreaming World – not really – merely the trappings of such. There are skull, bones and all kinds of morbid symbols, but anyone who dies here is sent somewhere else, like a forgotten character from an old children's tale. Just like what happened to Fyralio. And then Sildar and Jorantul. And now Lyria.
Sent elsewhere...? Are they dead, or just... elsewhere?
A blade appears in his hand. Before Everrarc can summon the strength to reply, he is stabbed through the heart. His body vanishes, just like all the others.
Heck yeah good job! Backstab for the win!

"Fight for me," says Hurondus, pleadingly. "I'll pay you a king's ransom!"

"No deal," says Mawroth. "You killed my boys."
His boys!!! Aw, his boys...
How will Elys react to these developments?
I think the time for vicious fighting has ended - the time for words is now. We could say to Mamnioch, quite truthfully, that Agon Hurondus is his enemy - that he skipped town with his prize and allowed Mamnioch's compatriot to be torn to shreds. That he is just using this debt to save his own life, and were Mamnioch to sit back and do nothing, or choose to fight ineffectively, that the debt he owes Hurondus could be wiped away with his life.
 
Sent elsewhere...? Are they dead, or just... elsewhere?
Split between the real world and the Spirit World, probably.

To be honest, I'm not sure how good these recent chapters are. I feel like I'm rushing to get to the end.

It really is just one thing after another, huh? XD
It's been a lot easier than it could have been. Each of Hurondus's fellow Masters of the Mystic Path could have been a major boss fight in their own right if you hadn't brought so many powerful friends. :rolleyes:

Basically, I've reached a point where the 'allow readers to make decisions' aspect of this quest conflicts with the 'tell a good story' aspect. If this was a novel, the final battle with Hurondus and the other members of the Mystic Path would be monstrously difficult, cause the deaths of most of your allies and go down to the wire, trying to keep the readers in suspense until the very last moment. However, because you prepared a devastating trap and got so many powerful allies on your side while taking advantage of your enemies' hubris – you did everything right, more or less – I think it would be unfair of me to cheat you out of your well-deserved victory. But that doesn't mean I'm going to make things easy for you.
 
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Basically, I've reached a point where the 'allow readers to make decisions' aspect of this quest conflicts with the 'tell a good story' aspect. If this was a novel, the final battle with Hurondus and the other members of the Mystic Path would be monstrously difficult, cause the deaths of most of your allies and go down to the wire, trying to keep the readers in suspense until the very last moment.
Perhaps, were this a novel, the Moon would have been the climax, and we'd be in the rising action of book two right about now, and Hurondus is about to escape, cludge together what remains of his allies, and start plotting actively while Elys rebuilds an Aspitolm that doesn't suck.

Alternately, this is a huge climax for people like Samaya, for whom this is immensely personal and who has been fighting for her life since about the moment she stepped out of the shadows here, or Gareth, who is losing most of hus friends today, and who just got his long-awaited revenge on a personal enemy.

Split between the real world and the Spirit World, probably.
"Probably" is a worrying word when it comes to life and death.
I think that is just how big battles feel, the sheer enormity of it contrasts with how swiftly these things tend to move.
Agreed, unless the sides are hideously unbalanced.
 
The Final Battle (Part Nine) New
I like how the ending of this quest rather neatly mirrors the ending of A Hedge Maze Is You.

*

The Final Battle (Part Nine)
"You leave me no choice," says Hurondus, pulling what looks like a blood-red gemstone out of his pocket. "Come forth, Imryl Mamnioch, greatest of the Demon Lords!"

A tall and shadowy figure appears, barely more than a distant silhouette, like a shape in the clouds, towering over the battlefield and all of the combatants. You feel its burning gaze sweep over you and all of your allies. Is Hurondus trying to summon an army of demons? Can he possibly succeed?
You glimpse the vague suggestion of a cruel and handsome face, high above the Dreaming World, spread across the darkening sky. Then, Mamnioch says, in an impassive voice: "Hurondus. What do you want from me?"

"Come forth! Bring all the Demon Lords to this battle!" cries Hurondus. "Repay your debt to me!"

"He's asking you to die," you say, using sound magic to make your voice much louder and clearer than it would otherwise have been, drowning out any would-be distractions. "You and the other Demon Lords. Do you really owe him that much?"

Hurondus glares at you. He's met you before, of course, but you see no sign of recognition in his face. Perhaps he's so self-centred that he barely noticed who he was talking to when you spoke to him on the Moon.

You're sure that your comrades – Nerya, Raef and Samya especially – would like to take advantage of Hurondus's distraction by attacking him while his guard is down, but they're wary of doing anything that might cause Mamnioch to come to his defence. If he and the other Demon Lords were to join in this battle, the consequences would be… complicated, to say the least.

For now, he doesn't seem inclined to do anything more than talk. "You make a good point," he says, softly, regarding you with interest. "Now that Zora Alishanda is free, the Dreaming World is a perilous place for me and my kind. Melphior discovered that, to his cost."

"He was a fool," says Hurondus, with a contemptuous snort.

"Indeed." Mamnioch gives an indulgent nod. Then, his gaze sharpens. "And yet you expect me to be just as much of a fool as he was. Or is this your attempt to lure me and all of my colleagues into a trap? I see the Chosen of Four Seasons are here with you – with the Chosen of Suriyende standing in for that of Astran – as well as an Avatar of Mawroth, an earth dragon and…" He looks curiously at you. "Someone else. The representative of someone powerful, no doubt. If my colleagues and I were to enter the fray, we would have to face at least six greater gods, including Zora Alishanda herself, who on her home turf might possibly be a match for all of us at once. Is this your plan to rid Creation of the Demon Lords once and for all? In which case… I'm sure everyone here will appreciate your noble sacrifice." He sardonically claps his hands together, but there is no sound; the image that appears before you, superimposed across the sky, is just a projection.

"You could bring an army of demons with you. Enough to overwhelm them with sheer weight of numbers."

"I suppose it's possible. The barriers between the Dreaming World and the Underworld are soft enough that if I were to expend enough of my power, I could open a rift through which a horde of demons could invade. But I would be severely weakened in the process. And there's no guarantee that we would win. Zora Alishanda has armies of her own and many allies she can call upon. No, I think it's more likely that we would be defeated and driven out." Mamnioch pauses. A smirk spreads across his face. "How amusing it is that we appear to have switched places. Now, you are the one who is trapped and relying on me to transport you. Following your example, shouldn't I exact a high price for my aid?"

"You owe me," Hurondus insists.

"Exactly how much do you owe him?" you ask, voice resonating just like before. "Enough that only your death – and the deaths of all your colleagues – will suffice to repay it?"

"Not that much. Not nearly that much," says Mamnioch. "You ask too much of me."

"Well…" The expression on Hurondus's face is hateful, regretful and humiliated. Even before he says anything, you're very much aware that he doesn't want to say it. "You could open a… rift… just for me. So I could escape."

Raef and Samaya grow tense, ready to attack Hurondus and snuff out his life before he can escape, but they manage to restrain themselves; even though Mamnioch doesn't seem inclined to fight, they're wary of provoking him.

"I suppose I could. I owe you that much, probably," says Mamnioch. "But why would I want to?"

"You need me. Without me, your demonic hordes will be trapped in the Underworld," Hurondus insists.

"The only reason why there are no other portal mages I could hire to do the job is that you killed them all. Otherwise, you would just be one of many. Besides, it is a lost art that is constantly on the verge of being rediscovered, as a natural extension of other magical arts – scrying, astral projection and so on – which only remains undiscovered because you have been so determined to eradicate anyone who stumbles upon it. Perhaps I should encourage some of my favoured servants to look into the matter. Actually, I'd be surprised if Zhordros hasn't already begun the process. It will take some time for anyone else to attain your level of knowledge, skill and expertise, but… never mind. We have nothing but time. We'll get there in the end, even if it takes us thousands of years." Mamnioch heaves a weary sigh. He gazes over the battlefield: at Hurondus shaking with rage, at Raef, Samaya and the Chosen hovering nearby, at the remnants of the two armies spread across the plane, at the dead and the dying, those who have been distorted by the world of dreams and those who were monstrous even before they were brought here. "We all rise up. We all fall down. And still the Wheel keeps on turning."

Desperately, wretchedly, visibly, Hurondus swallows his pride. "Save me! Take me from this place!"

"I despise you – did you know that? It brings me enormous pleasure to see you defeated and humbled," says Mamnioch. "There are many who would say… I am a monster. I have done monstrous things. I have caused innumerable horrors and miseries. They would say I have surrounded myself with deluded lies, but… I always believed I was doing the right thing, that someday I would free all the souls that have been trapped here in the cage they call 'Creation'. You, on the other hand… I wonder if you've ever done anything that wasn't entirely selfish."

Hurondus tries again: "I will do anything! I will be your servant!"

"I have no need of servants such as you. My colleagues and I… We never needed you. The only reason we hired you was because you were convenient. And now you have ceased to be convenient."

In a few moments, Mamnioch is gone, leaving behind a few scattered clouds and a sky like a vivid purple bruise, lit only by the last dying rays of a sun that has already fallen beneath the horizon. You hear his mocking voice, one last time, before he disappears completely: "Do what you will."

Before he can say or do anything else, Hurondus is blasted by Nerya, pierced by Samaya's portal blades, and struck by Wranolf's lightning. His last few remnants are picked apart and squabbled over by Mawroth's crows. After that, there is nothing left of him.

That's all, folks. Quest over, I guess. Everything after this will be the denouement.

I'm planning on showing what happens to Elys and her family, and then an epilogue featuring Sildar and Jorantul. Is there anyone else you'd like me to write about?
 
"I suppose I could. I owe you that much, probably," says Mamnioch. "But why would I want to?"
Baller move, frankly. Can't owe him if he's dead!

Before he can say or do anything else, Hurondus is blasted by Nerya, pierced by Samaya's portal blades, and struck by Wranolf's lightning. His last few remnants are picked apart and squabbled over by Mawroth's crows. After that, there is nothing left of him.
I love how full circle this has come. It feels like we can finally put the specter of Hedgy to rest, with this.
I'm planning on showing what happens to Elys and her family, and then an epilogue featuring Sildar and Jorantul. Is there anyone else you'd like me to write about?
Well, of course Cadre 1f, Green Flame, Raef and Samaya and Peels, Nerya... honestly I'd like a farewell to what remains of Elys's parents' adventuring party. The destruction of Aspiti aristocracy, of course. Anybody you think would never come up again, if you were to write in the future of this world some day.
 
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Suck it asshole, that's what happens when your contracts are none binding, hahahahahaahahaha!

Anyway great stuff, I love that in the end it was our diplomatic skills that won the day, very nice twist!

Also my own research into religions has made the ideology of the demons rather fun, IE, they're Gnostic!
 
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