Dare to Accomplish Wonders [Isekai Quest] <Birdsie Quest>
- Thread starter Birdsie
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
Enerael
We Shall Wake to Sanity
With the timing... I am quite sure now that the Pope is not an adversary pawn playing a long con.
Could there be two Saviours perhaps?
We should probably brief the Pope on Adversary and the danger this world is in later.
Inform the paladins that the possessor is not demonic, but something else.
Something worse.
Could there be two Saviours perhaps?
We should probably brief the Pope on Adversary and the danger this world is in later.
Inform the paladins that the possessor is not demonic, but something else.
Something worse.
Chapter 12: Licking Your Wounds
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Chapter 12: Licking Your Wounds
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Warning: This chapter contains squeamish descriptions of vomit, and moderately graphic, but nonetheless disturbing descriptions of death. If you wish to avoid reading, then skip towards the next section (marked with a triple, center-aligned "#." The situation is summarized there, without any details, only showing the end results of what happened.)
The warning is here because while, personally, I do not find the chapter too offensive, I am aware some people might not have the stomach or taste for this extent of violence. Please, let me know if I went overboard, so I can remain advised in the future. I also want it to be clear that I am in no way glorifying violence or death. Thank you.
###
"I'm not s-sure," she stammered, still trying to wrap her head around the situation going on right in front of her.
Lazara felt as though she was seeing it from far away; looking down at people on a plain from the top of a mountain, even though it was happening here and now.
She looked at the paladin with fallen eyes. "It possessed him while he was exhausted and using drugs to keep going warding everything." Her gaze developed a questioning tincture. "Can dad be saved?"
The paladin, armored may he be, looked uneasy with the question. He hesitated to speak, but finally relented, "I can't promise that."
Lazara nodded, then laid there for several seconds, breathing and recuperating. She could feel her bones and cracked ribs, snapped into place, slowly mending. The sensation was rightfully disturbing, but she felt no pain from it.
The paladin kept his hand on her shoulder, a steady stream of faint, yellow energy passing from him and into her.
He began to explain, "You may already know this, but: Healing magic is not a perfect solution. It is never perfect, and most bodies often reject outside healing magic, or even their own healing magic. The new tissues will be softer for some time, not everything will be healed instantly, and you shouldn't do anything strenuous for a month or three."
She nodded, calmer now that everything was fine.
The paladins behind the one healing her seemed to have a lid on things, keeping Adversary contained under some kind of bright, holy forcefield. They seemed to slowly be snuffing out his essence, like someone putting a bucket on top of a candle to cut off oxygen, but with a forcefield and a manifestation of pure assholery.
She snorted internally, then decided to try something, even if it didn't work. Lazara tried to mumble some incantations to add her own magic to the group chant, but she couldn't find anything. Her own thoughts seemed to slip through her hands like sand, when she tried to grip them.
Lazara decided to just rest, letting the paladin do his work while she laid there for around half a minute. Then, something unexpected happened.
She felt a pulse of something. Lazara's eyes shot open in sudden horror, recognizing the feeling from somewhere.
It felt ancient and distant, but she knew it. It was so familiar: the sensation... she almost remembered talking to someone, in a realm of thought. The memories slipped away when she gripped at them, but she realized the only important fact:
He was gazing at her.
Light exploded behind the paladin's back, causing Lazara to look over his shoulder, and for him to spin around.
Adversary cursed the paladins. Death, hollowness, end, silence.
Lazara never felt so much wrongness from anything. She felt dirty just feeling him exist.
It was like his very essence was looking at her from behind a window, sneering, lashing out in hate, and yet it felt hollow. How could something be hateful and hollow at the same time? It was a mix of these two passions; a concept that doesn't exist.
How can rage and resignation be combined, when they seem the opposite? The paradoxical creature in front of her emitted that very idea.
The paladins wavered, but kept in a tight formation around Lord Lightbrook, shields upraised and halberds pointed; washing him in holy light as they spoke prayers.
Lightbrook screamed, his mouth opening and his jaw breaking and falling off, to reveal a tunnel of searing, white light, burning through his body. A tongue of the light came out of his throat like a tentacle, moved about by its own, malicious sentience. It was about thirty feet long, and kept growing gradually.
It lashed out. Most of the paladins dodged by falling prone, supine, or jumping back, but two of them didn't make it. The tentacle cut straight through their shields and armor, bisecting them effortlessly.
Lazara felt a demon grip her heart, as ice ran down her veins. She could feel the heartbeat in her neck, pulsing uncomfortably and threatening to burst out.
The broken Lightbrook - was he alive at this point? - opened his eyes, revealing two abysses of purple light, washing everything in the area. In milliseconds after seeing it, Lazara felt sick to the stomach: she could tell it wasn't normal light. It was a dark, violet, hateful wavelength, combined with something else, beyond the usual spectrum. Something with more energy.
She was sure her father couldn't do any of this. Adversary was burning his soul up; squeezing it with an iron fist, like a lemon, to get the last bits of power and raze it at the same time, while also using it to break the body. To break everything around him in an explosion of violence.
Her father's energy, spirit, and affinity for magic, but with the Adversary's experience, ruthlessness, and desire to inflict pain.
Lazara stood up and bolted behind cover, behind a pillar, while the paladins chanted and interrupted his malign spellwork.
The light from his eyes disappeared for moments, before he opened them again, twice as intense. Black residue built up on the walls hit by the light.
She heard a swish of the light tentacle, and several paladins fell down again.
Lazara pulled off Snake from her shoulders, to his chagrin, then settled him on the ground behind the pillar, for his safety.
Lazara hazarded to look from behind cover and saw that Sylvester was creating shields and healing paladins as hastily as he could, using one-time healing spells, instead of that constant healing light the paladin taking care of her used.
The bisected ones were finished, but the ones puking up their guts due to the light could apparently be saved, as Sylvester focused on them.
Belladonna was casting barriers of her own, trying to contain the purple-pink maelstrom, but her fields broke as soon as they were created, the light tearing and searing through.
Lazara didn't see Timory and Matrim anywhere, thankfully.
One of the paladins decided to take matters in his own hands, grasping his halberd in reverse. He hurled it at Adversary's heart, but the whip of light burned the flying halberd, then took the paladin's head in revenge without hesitation or mercy.
The purple light began to fizzle out, weakening, even as paladins fell.
One of them ran near to where Lazara was, threw off his helmet and began to puke blood. It was all over his face; coming out of his nose, eyes, nose, even ears; painted on a face that endured suffering and horror. After a moment, something gelatinous and red came out of his mouth as he screamed in terror. After that, his features became blank, like a corpse's and he stared forward for several long seconds. Then, he collapsed; dead or unconscious.
The paladins were scattering. The few ones still alive were clearly smarter, more competent, as much as it hurt to admit. They took cover wherever they could, focusing their magic to form personal barriers on top of their magical tower shields.
They were hoping to wait this out, wait for him to lose his power, or call backup.
After a few seconds, Lord Lightbrook fell to the tiles with a splatter of blood, a trickle of red hatred oozing off his corpse before fading away.
Lazara stared for what felt like minutes, shaking and disbelieving.
Father?
She stepped out from behind the pillar, feeling numb.
There was no hate, or fear, or even anger in her anymore. No more shock or concussion left to worry about. Just numbness.
She approached where her father laid, with a stupidly gormless look on what was left of his half-melted, jawless face. A look unbefitting of the perpetually regal Lord Lightbrook.
Lazara fell to her knees, still numb. A part of her, somewhere near the lungs, wanted to laugh for some reason. Maybe she was broken? She rejected that idea, just staring emptily into space.
She didn't even notice as water began to gather in her eyes, before lines of tears went down her cheek. She began to croak inside her own throat, trying to bite down on laughter and whimpering of any kind.
But she couldn't.
She cried, and cried, and cried, for what felt like several, full minutes. Several minutes of nothing but her crying, tears streaming out of her eyes as she felt a deep void take root in her heart, then spread to her chest, and the rest of her. Thoughts of unfairness and hate swam through her thoughts, then back out as soon as they appeared, replaced by more crying and whimpering.
At some point, she forgot what she was crying for. Or maybe she wasn't sure. Was it her father? The loss of her perfect life? The fact she didn't prepare better? It didn't matter.
She had lots of reasons to cry, so she cried, all the while feeling numb and sick and void in the bowels.
Then, she bent over and puked out a mixture of vile yellow and red; bile mixed with her blood and partially liquefied innards. Whatever that light did, it was nasty, but she didn't care right now.
She wasn't in pain, or in shock. She didn't feel anything except numbness.
And somehow, that numbness was worse. Somehow, that numbness was killing her.
Lazara punched the ground with her fist several times, ripping skin and flesh. She didn't care for any pain, because it was drowned out in the numbness. If anything, the fact that the ground refused to care about her punching it; refused to shatter and move aside, was more painful.
She kicked with her feet, punched with the bottoms of her fists and cried, wanting to puke again but keeping it inside.
"Why? Why, why, why, why? Why me? Why us? I never wanted this," she cried to herself.
Snake, who had been silent behind her for a good minute now, was unsure of how to proceed. Hesitantly, he started, "We... I... Child, I'm... I'm..."
"Shut up," she answered with venom, clenching her fists so hard it hurt. The answer was without hate, but radiating fury.
Lazara looked up, pushing her hair aside, as she determined the situation.
The paladin who'd stabilized her was dead, his head lying a foot away from his body, his armor painted in rust and pitch. His expression wasn't the peaceful face of someone who died surrounded by comrades and proud to do his duty, but rather the face of someone full of fear and pain.
Why? That's just not fair...
Sylvester was halfway unconscious, lying on the ground with his head craned sideways so he could puke and spit out blood even as he breathed and stared blankly.
Belladonna was gripping her stomach and sitting with her back against the wall, her clothing covered in shades of yellow and red, freckled with bits of blood. Most horrifying was the partly dried cone of red that started near her collar and expanded down her clothing. She puked red, green and yellow onto her clothing just then, showing how it became so.
The paladins - or whatever alive ones were left - were also there, but they weren't moving. Or maybe they were, but she couldn't see because of the armor.
Lazara didn't feel any post-battle adrenaline, or hatred. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe she should be screaming more.
Right now? She felt numb, and just wanted to see someone she loved. Timory or her mom. Anyone. Just... anyone.
Lazara felt the desire to vomit again, pushing strongly despite her resistance. This one, she couldn't stave off by careful breathing or forcing her throat to close. She respectfully angled away from her father, then let her innards loose.
Something gelatinous, red like blood, fell out of her mouth alongside a stream of stomach gunk.
I hate this, she thought through her tears. This is nothing more than an annoyance. Can we be done with it already?
She felt dizzy as she stood, and more than a little light-headed. The numbness was still there, and she doubted it'd leave her for a long time.
A part of her wished there was a God she could blame, but blaming Paladine for this didn't feel right.
She wasn't sure even a deity could help much.
She could only help herself.
But how? What to do now?
Actions:
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] Cry some more.
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] Cry for me.
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] Your dad is never coming back. Cry me a river.
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] You're pathetic.
[] Write-in.
###
Savior Panel
"..."
Savior Panel
"..."
It's 24th Goldleaf, 1310, in the late evening, roughly 19:40.
You've won, at a price.
Lord Lightbrook is dead, and even a resurrection spell from a very competent priest is unlikely to make it otherwise. All of his internal organs, including the brain and heart, were melted, burned, and partly vaporized: your father is not coming back; the Adversary made sure of that.
Due to rapid blood loss, you're feeling dizzy and lightheaded, but there's no longer enough vertigo to prevent you from walking. You aren't in any pain, but your throat feels parched and dry from screaming and vomiting up bile and blood, to the point where speaking hurts. Your knuckles and fists are a little bruised and have tiny lacerations, but didn't come in contact with vomit. Other than this, you're fine, and can even theoretically cast magic; though the numb mindset might make that more challenging.
Your body is also saturated with the spiritual concepts of "hate," "decay," and "death," which promote these three notions to take place. Combined, they are causing you to vomit up blood, and other symptoms may begin showing soon if you don't purify yourself, use anti-magic, or wait for the effect to run out of mana.
Timory and Matrim aren't present, and the same goes for your mother, so they are presumably safe.
Belladonna and Sylvester aren't looking so hot, but probably aren't much worse than you. Belladonna is conscious and will respond if you talk to her, but is likely to have difficulty speaking due to her state. Sylvester is on the fringe of consciousness and unlikely to respond but might crane his head and eyes to look at you if you catch his attention.
Out of the paladin group that came here, only seven are left alive, three of whom will die within minutes if not given medical aid and/or some sort of ritual to purge the concentrated concept of hatred from their bodies.
The four remaining paladins are on the brink of life, somewhere similar to your own health state, but have gone into shock at seeing their comrades (trained for years to deal with this specific type of situation, and with a considerable amount of experience) get slaughtered like cattle: you will have to help break them out of their despair first, if they are to help you.
Ironically, you and Snake are in the best state currently. Mostly because Lazara ran for cover very early and got affected the least, as she could tell the light had malignant effects just form seeing it, thanks to her specialty.
If anyone's curious what Adversary's purple light was; it was a mixture of high-energy thermal light, a little bit of ionizing radiation, and a fuckload of astral conceptual magics, mostly related to hatred, decay, death, and other nasty ideas that Adversary likes to weaponize. The radiation itself acted as a sort of "trigger" for the effect that the conceptual magic is having on you, right now. You'll experience symptoms similar to acute radiation poisoning, only nastier and they will set in quicker.
Actions:
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] Cry some more.
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] Cry for me.
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] Your dad is never coming back. Cry me a river.
[] Stand there, feeling pathetic.
[] You're pathetic.
[] Write-in.
No supplementary actions may be taken at this time.
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- Location
- PA
[X]"Hatred, Hollowness, Pain, Decay, Death. These are your weapons Adversary. I, Savior answer them with this: Life, Healing, Soothing, Memories, Love. May your curse be banished and take no more from us!"
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
Hrrm. I'm...Unsure how to wield Savior Power into our spells, and that might very well kill us right here, we've already lost our father and a large group of Paladins so I suspect that the Adversary got a very big win out of this unless he blew alot of power here...
Problem is there's that kid-Pope, and possibly also that Dragon-kid who took cheats off him, and even if we mobilize them they're going to have a rough time if the Adversary pulls the yoink trick on them, so we'll have to figure out an answer.
I bet the Savior can in fact disrupt their powers if it's Adversary-based though, and thusly we can warn them the power isn't their own, and allow them to compensate for it.
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
Hrrm. I'm...Unsure how to wield Savior Power into our spells, and that might very well kill us right here, we've already lost our father and a large group of Paladins so I suspect that the Adversary got a very big win out of this unless he blew alot of power here...
Problem is there's that kid-Pope, and possibly also that Dragon-kid who took cheats off him, and even if we mobilize them they're going to have a rough time if the Adversary pulls the yoink trick on them, so we'll have to figure out an answer.
I bet the Savior can in fact disrupt their powers if it's Adversary-based though, and thusly we can warn them the power isn't their own, and allow them to compensate for it.
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ThatGuyWithIdeas
Treize died for our sins
- Location
- Romania
[X]"Hatred, Hollowness, Pain, Decay, Death. These are your weapons Adversary. I, Savior answer them with this: Life, Healing, Soothing, Memories, Love. May your curse be banished and take no more from us!"
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
It's easier than you think.
In order to send so much of his own intent over the link he had with Pholion Lightbrook, he did in fact have to force a hole into the wards that were on the grounds. He's not debilitated, but he lost much more power than he expected to, and that he would have otherwise.
If that helps.
- Location
- US
- Pronouns
- She, her
[X]"Hatred, Hollowness, Pain, Decay, Death. These are your weapons Adversary. I, Savior answer them with this: Life, Healing, Soothing, Memories, Love. May your curse be banished and take no more from us!"
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
[X]"Hatred, Hollowness, Pain, Decay, Death. These are your weapons Adversary. I, Savior answer them with this: Life, Healing, Soothing, Memories, Love. May your curse be banished and take no more from us!"
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
- Location
- Earth
[X]"Hatred, Hollowness, Pain, Decay, Death. These are your weapons Adversary. I, Savior answer them with this: Life, Healing, Soothing, Memories, Love. May your curse be banished and take no more from us!"
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
- Location
- PA
I don't think so? I half-think we provoked this fight/screwed up by talking to dad about it and distressing him when he didn't have much strength left to begin with, and more prominent ly, the best way to expel him was to put Savior power behind the attempt, assuming that would work- if we were faster on the uptake, I think we would have done it with much less casualties.
Good news is Lord Pholion was clearly possessed, or at least played into that narrative, and thus I think people can/will believe us. The problem is we now need an answer to possession- wards aren't enough, and while Pholion was exhausted...That might have been the Adversary being wary of expending so much power for unknown gain, because I suspect our would-be allies are going to be pretty freaked out about the idea of having their souls squeezed dry of power like a lemon before they get popped. Versus just staying at home and being safe and leaving the fight up to the Savior.
Pity that was not known earlier, that way plans change taking that into account sigh.
She going be in a bloody mess either way.
[X]"Hatred, Hollowness, Pain, Decay, Death. These are your weapons Adversary. I, Savior answer them with this: Life, Healing, Soothing, Memories, Love. May your curse be banished and take no more from us!"
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
Is still possible to resurrect our father even if it takes heavy penalty?
Felt a sense of guilt over this.
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ThatGazzer
Minds Eye Bind
- Location
- PNW
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X]"Hatred, Hollowness, Pain, Decay, Death. These are your weapons Adversary. I, Savior answer them with this: Life, Healing, Soothing, Memories, Love. May your curse be banished and take no more from us!"
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
- Location
- US
- Pronouns
- She, her
Failing that, maybe we can resuscitate the priests who aren't ashes. But we are answering death with life...
- Location
- Poland
- Pronouns
- He/Him
A slightly different take on the leading vote:
[X] "I see what you are, Adversary. I see this Hateful Emptiness you want to drag us all into. But I REFUSE to let you take anyone else! I, the Savior, will fill this void with Calm, Hope, Healing, Life and Love!"
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
I wish to attack the Adversary more directly, through conceptually denying his existence- filling the emptiness with light.
[X] "I see what you are, Adversary. I see this Hateful Emptiness you want to drag us all into. But I REFUSE to let you take anyone else! I, the Savior, will fill this void with Calm, Hope, Healing, Life and Love!"
-[X]Cast a cleansing light, to heal yourself, the Paladins, your allies, everyone you can save.
I wish to attack the Adversary more directly, through conceptually denying his existence- filling the emptiness with light.
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Chapter 13: The Savior
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
Chapter 13: The Savior
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###
Lazara felt numb, standing there, feeling pathetic and useless.
People around her were suffering. Moments ago, they weren't suffering. They weren't even here, or expecting any of this.
Earlier today, she was trying to record her dreams to remember her past life. She'd read a response message from the pope, who apparently deemed it prudent to attach some sort of security spell to the letter. And then, she spent the afternoon observing Matrim and Timory spar against each other; bond, even.
She talked to her father for the last time. That happened, too.
How did such a normal day turn into this? Tears streamed down her cheeks again, cold and numb against her cold and numb skin. Lifeless.
Is that it?
What her life will be? Was she destined to suffer, because of some ancient evil's preconceptions about her existence?
So numb.
She felt so empty, so hollow, so unloved. Not by anyone in particular, just the universe in general.
Is this what my life is going to be? How it all ends?
The feeling of vacancy was familiar, oddly enough.
Lazara blinked, realization dawning. The last streaks of her tears went out of her eyes, and she wiped the rest away with her cuff.
That's what you are, aren't you? You're this feeling. You represent this, she thought, gulping and beginning to retake the reins on her own emotions. She wouldn't allow herself to be smothered by the emptiness that caused this.
I reject you. I reject this numbness.
Lazara looked around herself.
He used hatred. He used hollowness, and pain, decay, and death. Those were his weapons: his side of the spectrum.
If she was supposed to be his antithesis, she'd need to take control of her own side. A Savior's power wasn't some inherent sparkling power: it was the ability to realize this fact, to become his opposite. To save what the Adversary tried to break. Salvation as opposed to damnation.
He mentioned a lack of greed; she recalled now, with stark clarity.
The Adversary gave her options, in the beginning. Tempted her with shiny powers to make his defeat certain, which was, in reality, a bundle of treacheries sprinkled in glitter. By choosing not to partake in that, not to sully herself, she'd gained something. Something integral and precious, both a proof of purity as well as a catalyst for further growth. An essential element to being his enemy, beyond opening up to his manipulation.
She began to think alongside those paths, tracing her own mind. For once, it was surprisingly pliable, willing to cooperate. She could recall her own birth with enough clarity to remember it as if it were yesterday, and she could remember other things, before that.
She remembered what the voice told her, or tried to tell her. The message that it tried to relay to her advantage.
'This world cannot judge the Savior, and because of that, the Savior mustn't be of this world.'
A soul interpreted beliefs and thoughts in the mind into reality; into the Weave. Magic was instinctive on many levels, but instinct can only go so far. That's why incantations are a necessity, why even the omniscient mind has to convince itself that it desires: Because instinct isn't capable of being meticulous.
Lazara was positive what she was about to cast would be the strongest spellwork she'd woven yet. Because she was never as certain of anything as much as she was right now.
"I promise here," she said out loud, closing her eyes and breathing in sharply.
My love against your hatred.
My hope against your hollowness.
My calm against your pain.
My healing against your decay.
My life against your death.
Her justice to clash against his evil.
For a moment, Lazara felt the universe in tune with herself, thrumming inside her soul. It responded to her realization, singing through her, desiring her to get rid of this wrongness.
She'd happily oblige. A Savior's job is to save.
White is the color of every color put together; all colors unified. Black is the anti-color, the shade of the very absence of color. Saturation against desaturation. Light against darkness. Savior against Adversary.
The color that entered Lazara's hand wasn't blue, nor was it white. It was much more than a frequency of electromagnetic wavelength to be interpreted by human eyes; it was an idea, interpreted as color by the universe. Everything interpreted as an electromagnetic anomaly.
The primordial power of the cosmos, resonating across multiple levels of reality, directed by a sentient idea: to right wrongs.
It was white, because it was every color, and it was blue because it was meant to save, and it was many other things: a riddle that cannot be deciphered.
The light washed over the area, righting wrongs.
Petty hatreds were purified. The decays of entropy were cast away and replaced with the light of creation.
The light wasn't effective enough on its own, so Lazara shifted mental gears. The light shifted in response. Instead of washing over everything, Lazara put her hands together to create something similar to a fireplace of the light.
Streaks of light came out of it, like patterns of spiritual energy. They didn't hesitate, weaving across the air to enter the battered and broken bodies of her comrades. As soon as it entered their wounds, the light intensified and transmuted into flesh and bone laced anew with love and truth.
Healing.
One of the paladins stood up straight, bewildered by what was happening, looking at his hands and clenching them to test his new strength. Previously, he'd been bisected at the neck. Now, he stood alive, calm, and without a shred of despair in his mind.
He knelt before her and prayed, tears of joy going down his face.
The other paladins followed soon, not shadowed by doubt. The entire platoon was healed with extraordinary ease and began to pray and gush her with profuse, yet quiet thanks.
Sylvester, once he realized he wasn't feeling like shit, looked up at her and cried, then began to pray for himself.
Belladonna wasn't very religious, but she knelt even quicker than the old man, her forehead almost touching the ground.
Her father's jaw attached itself back to his skull, and he took in a sharp breath, followed by coughing. He didn't open his eyes but she couldn't force him to get up. Lazara could see his soul - her power translating it into the light she could read - and saw that it was broken in many ways. His mind wasn't holding up too good, either; shattered and fragmented.
He's going to be lucky if the coma lasts less than two decades, and if he has more than a scant few memories of his past life when he wakes up.
A problem for tomorrow, she thought. But today...
What now?
[] Write-in.
###
In another room, an old butler - Johann Aloisi - began to scratch the skin on his forearm to get rid of the last bits of dry blackness, not too indifferent from the bark of a tree.
He looked around the scorched foyer, confused and scared, even though some presence was flowing into his mind and assuring him everything was alright.
He blinked in sudden realization that his life had been spared.
Acting on instinct, he knelt and began to pray to whatever force saved him, not knowing if it was one of the gods, or something else.
###
In another layer of reality, the Adversary felt a physical force repelling him away from the Lightbrook mansion.
Even through the force, he could spy, reach out with his senses. What he saw - that his work had been undone so easily - made him seethe and rearrange several backup plans.
###
Somewhere, kilometers away, a young boy in white-gold robes smiled and put his mirror away.
He took a sip of exquisite tea, brewed with mint leaves from a desert country far away. He savored its taste on his tongue, the liquid feeling warm in his mouth.
He swallowed after a few moments.
"Oh, man," he said, with a mirthful expression and closed eyes, "and they say I'm controversial."
###
Trait Gained: Savior.
Trait Gained: Enlightened.
###
Savior Panel
"Excellent work. How are you feeling after sleeping so long, Savior?"
Savior Panel
"Excellent work. How are you feeling after sleeping so long, Savior?"
It's 24th Goldleaf, 1310, in the late evening, roughly 19:41.
You've awakened to your true nature! Congratulations.
As a minor funfact: you've genuinely hacked the system into giving yourself a pseudo-cheat skill. How so? Let me explain:
Other than extreme resistance to the Adversary's influence, and the ability to confer that resistance to your own magic - a Savior isn't supposed to have special abilities. That, and meta-knowledge that an Adversary exists in the first place.
However, by giving so much meaning to the idea of directly opposing the Adversary, and the sincerity of your belief that this is how a Savior operates, you've pretty much convinced your soul to go: "Yeah, sounds about right. Let's kick his ass!" and unlocking a bunch of its inner mechanisms for you, free of charge.
Technically speaking, anyone could do this. That's what the Enlightened Trait represents.
This is the equivalent of training as a Buddhist monk for several decades and reaching Nirvana, or Golconda, or what have you: being in tune with one's inner self; with one's soul. Anyone can do this to reach their apex, you just did it early by mashing the: "I'M THE SAVIOR AND THIS IS MEANINGFUL" button so fast and hard that your own soul began to accept it as the truth. The fact that you've been reincarnated, are an entity called the Savior, and are in emotional turmoil caused by an entity in opposition to you are three things that gave this process the edge that actually allowed it to happen, where it wouldn't happen for anyone else.
The fact that the universe wants the Adversary to be expelled helps, too.
Anyway, you can now shoot off Conceptual Magic like no one's business. And speaking of magic, it's going to be much easier now, on every level. The Enlightened Trait, or at least the kind of Enlightenment you've gained, represents something like forming a direct gateway with your own soul and being in tune with it.
In practice, this means you won't have to speak incantations anymore. You might have to think them, for more complicated spells, but speaking them out loud is only required if you want to reach some nebulous ham value. Generally, magic is even more instinctive now: If you think, "I want this guy to fly as far as I can make him," and mildly concentrate, your soul will take that as the green light for generating enough kinetic energy to throw him from California to New Jersey.
On top of that, elemental affinities and methods don't matter. Or at least, a lack of them doesn't matter. Think of it this way: You were bad at water, slightly bad at earth, average at fire, average at wind, and very good at light.
Now, everything that was bad is average, everything that was average is good, and everything that was very good is excellent. There are no "bads" anymore in that equation. Your soul isn't afraid of water because of past-life trauma anymore. If you encounter such a block, it will be self-imposed, and easier to get rid of.
As for methodology, you could probably spec out into physical magic enough to give Timory a good scare.
Continuing on what spiritual enlightenment offers, elemental affinities aren't the only thing.
Every school of magic or school of magic-related thought isn't a concern anymore. If you know what effect you want to achieve, without knowing how - you can still cast the spell. Your soul will just go: "Oh, I see what you mean," and auto-complete the process in a way it considers appropriate.
That said, I still wouldn't try casting complicated spells without research. The "way it considers appropriate" will most likely also be the "way of draining all your mana in the most magically inefficient spell known to conversion tables." And using this method to resurrect someone? Ouch, that could have some unnatural consequences. What I'm saying is: You have the power, but be careful playing with it.
If you do something that's too grandiose for your soul's understanding, you will drain yourself in one spell. This is part of the reason why mages often repeat the same low-level spells before moving onto more advanced versions: it gives their souls time to learn, not their minds. The fact that this limiter has been removed doesn't mean that the reasons it was there in the first place aren't there anymore.
Last but not least, you have the equivalent of multi-layer ESP (detecting magic, detecting auras, detecting spirits, detecting shit in the ethereal plane, retrocognition, precognition, reading psychic impressions, understanding magic, communicating with souls, a bunch of others,) and eidetic memory, because communicating with your soul means it can feed you any data it picks up, including any memories it decided to store (read: all of your memories.)
That said, don't take this as, "every upgrade box in the skill tree that was there has been bought," because that's not what this is. This is more like, "we now have a shortcut to temporarily scrabble up a jury-rigged version of any upgrade box we want, at an increased cost. Plus some extra rare perks and several unlocks in the 'conceptual tree.'"
Be careful. I don't like to drop sudden death on my players, but using this advantage trivially ("let's create Cthulhu ex nihilo!") is a good way to make me change my mind pronto.
However, by giving so much meaning to the idea of directly opposing the Adversary, and the sincerity of your belief that this is how a Savior operates, you've pretty much convinced your soul to go: "Yeah, sounds about right. Let's kick his ass!" and unlocking a bunch of its inner mechanisms for you, free of charge.
Technically speaking, anyone could do this. That's what the Enlightened Trait represents.
This is the equivalent of training as a Buddhist monk for several decades and reaching Nirvana, or Golconda, or what have you: being in tune with one's inner self; with one's soul. Anyone can do this to reach their apex, you just did it early by mashing the: "I'M THE SAVIOR AND THIS IS MEANINGFUL" button so fast and hard that your own soul began to accept it as the truth. The fact that you've been reincarnated, are an entity called the Savior, and are in emotional turmoil caused by an entity in opposition to you are three things that gave this process the edge that actually allowed it to happen, where it wouldn't happen for anyone else.
The fact that the universe wants the Adversary to be expelled helps, too.
Anyway, you can now shoot off Conceptual Magic like no one's business. And speaking of magic, it's going to be much easier now, on every level. The Enlightened Trait, or at least the kind of Enlightenment you've gained, represents something like forming a direct gateway with your own soul and being in tune with it.
In practice, this means you won't have to speak incantations anymore. You might have to think them, for more complicated spells, but speaking them out loud is only required if you want to reach some nebulous ham value. Generally, magic is even more instinctive now: If you think, "I want this guy to fly as far as I can make him," and mildly concentrate, your soul will take that as the green light for generating enough kinetic energy to throw him from California to New Jersey.
On top of that, elemental affinities and methods don't matter. Or at least, a lack of them doesn't matter. Think of it this way: You were bad at water, slightly bad at earth, average at fire, average at wind, and very good at light.
Now, everything that was bad is average, everything that was average is good, and everything that was very good is excellent. There are no "bads" anymore in that equation. Your soul isn't afraid of water because of past-life trauma anymore. If you encounter such a block, it will be self-imposed, and easier to get rid of.
As for methodology, you could probably spec out into physical magic enough to give Timory a good scare.
Continuing on what spiritual enlightenment offers, elemental affinities aren't the only thing.
Every school of magic or school of magic-related thought isn't a concern anymore. If you know what effect you want to achieve, without knowing how - you can still cast the spell. Your soul will just go: "Oh, I see what you mean," and auto-complete the process in a way it considers appropriate.
That said, I still wouldn't try casting complicated spells without research. The "way it considers appropriate" will most likely also be the "way of draining all your mana in the most magically inefficient spell known to conversion tables." And using this method to resurrect someone? Ouch, that could have some unnatural consequences. What I'm saying is: You have the power, but be careful playing with it.
If you do something that's too grandiose for your soul's understanding, you will drain yourself in one spell. This is part of the reason why mages often repeat the same low-level spells before moving onto more advanced versions: it gives their souls time to learn, not their minds. The fact that this limiter has been removed doesn't mean that the reasons it was there in the first place aren't there anymore.
Last but not least, you have the equivalent of multi-layer ESP (detecting magic, detecting auras, detecting spirits, detecting shit in the ethereal plane, retrocognition, precognition, reading psychic impressions, understanding magic, communicating with souls, a bunch of others,) and eidetic memory, because communicating with your soul means it can feed you any data it picks up, including any memories it decided to store (read: all of your memories.)
That said, don't take this as, "every upgrade box in the skill tree that was there has been bought," because that's not what this is. This is more like, "we now have a shortcut to temporarily scrabble up a jury-rigged version of any upgrade box we want, at an increased cost. Plus some extra rare perks and several unlocks in the 'conceptual tree.'"
Be careful. I don't like to drop sudden death on my players, but using this advantage trivially ("let's create Cthulhu ex nihilo!") is a good way to make me change my mind pronto.
In other news, the current crisis is averted. Everyone in a 125-meter radius has been revived and healed using Conceptual Magic, but you are out of mana. That said, everyone's prayers are imperceptibly improving your current rate of mana recovery.
Within roughly 10-20 seconds, you will get a splitting headache; the equivalent of your soul calling you an idiot for using up all of your energy in one casting.
Your father's not too hot, even though he's alive. His previously liquefied organs have been made solid again, but his system is very delicate and tender right now.
His brain hasn't healed properly at all, on a mental level: physically it's fine. The neurons are all there, but they're barely firing and there's not enough neuroplasticity for the brain to properly rewire itself into working order. From your best estimate, he'll be in a coma for the rest of his life unless something changes or he's very lucky. Even then, when he wakes up, he won't remember even a word of his past life, mostly because his brain hasn't been as much returned to how it was, as it was recreated into working order.
Ordinarily, his soul would step in here and provide his brain with his old set of memories (souls store memories of past lives and the current life,) but his soul has been utterly wrecked by the Adversary, and currently, your Conceptual Magic is too weak, and you're too dim on the subject, to fix souls. You could definitely try, but please remember what I said about letting your soul auto-complete anything more complex than bending spoons.
Well, I'm exaggerating a bit with the spoonbending, but you get the idea.
Right now, you are standing over your father's body. Sylvester and Belladonna are at your feet, praising you, the universe, and just about everything else in a moment of epiphany. The paladins are behind them, also on their knees, and praising; you and their gods, but mostly you. Pretty sure you could start a religion out of this.
Through the link with your soul, you can feel your mother, Timory, and Matrim. Clairvoyance has never been this easy!
The latter two have fled to the main courtyard, where Matrim is healing Timory's injuries. Both are safe and will heal in time.
Your mother is rushing down the main stairwell and will probably start talking with the butler who got scorched about what happened. You project that they'll meet up with Matrim and Timory afterwards, and then rush to your current location, in roughly 2-3 minutes.
You can feel through the link with your soul, that Adversary's presence was still strong after your father died, but he is escaping now, in fear of your light. Also, someone was scrying on your location up until now: most likely the pope.
Are there any Supplementary Actions you wish to take?
[] Write-in.
[] More of... [specific situation/character; next update will contain more related content in favor of other content. This isn't an interlude, merely less abbreviation and more detailed interactions]
[] System change... [write shorter or longer updates, change the rules, something else? Currently, aiming to write less than 4.5k words per update, but more than 3k]
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Lack of knowledge. We should practice on other people who have less injured souls and learn more first.
- Location
- PA
Wow.
[X]Relax, possibly collapse because that was an effort.
-[X] If you don't pass out from exertion? Just say that Pholion might be alive but he won't wake for two decades unless someone heals him- and before anyone asked you blew about all your mana healing everyone here, so you'd like to go lie down now.
[X]Relax, possibly collapse because that was an effort.
-[X] If you don't pass out from exertion? Just say that Pholion might be alive but he won't wake for two decades unless someone heals him- and before anyone asked you blew about all your mana healing everyone here, so you'd like to go lie down now.
DeepWaters
No one will be the wiser.
- Location
- Land of Spiders and Shipping Charts
[X] Go see your mother, if you have the strength. Someone needs to tell her what happened, and you could really use some support right now, maybe a shoulder to cry on.
-[X] If you don't have the strength, just sit down somewhere and try not to pass out until she and the others get here.
-[X] If you don't have the strength, just sit down somewhere and try not to pass out until she and the others get here.
Well
Indications seem to point to the data loss becoming more permanent over time? Could be reading it wrong
Birdsie
Sharp Talons Cleave The Worthy
- Location
- Poland
The data is lost already: his memories are scattered to the void. The best you could do is infuse him with your own memories of who he was, but that'd hardly produce an accurate image of Pholion Lightbrook. Alternative methods should be sought if you desire to accurately recreate your father's memories.