What Writhes in Darkness
Elsewhere, Time Indeterminate
If it's a sun he wants... An alien sun green and faceted with eyes uncounted rises in the bleak darkness of the Underworld, as your soul unfurls, a banner of an army against the taint of the maw of the void. It dances, shadowless and bright, intermingling with sacred moonlight of an angel given flesh, someone new and ready to rise. Respect and determination highlighted by the fires of your soul, you speak, in words that were ancient when Death was but a dream and time newborn: "This Circle pays respect to your sacrifice, oh martyr, and thanks you for your warning. Let the light of our souls dispel the shadows of your doubt - know that it is bright enough to find the foes of creation even in this darkness. I am..." though you do not hesitate in voice your mind stops a moment upon the word, the legacy of pride and history only glimpsed, of failings only guessed. "Exalted."
More yet you would have had to say, but you do not get the chance as the flesh of the ancient shakes and not with speech. Maggots the size of school busses erupt from his flesh, mottled slick black like tar and red with eyes of blood, but most horrid of them, hunched and writhing is that they each bear some mismatched feature of the human form, here an emancipated arm there there a face distended over a blood-engorged thorax, clumps of carefully coifed hair growing from under insecticide limbs like.
"NO! No! What have you done? They come! Mouthless Feasters! They come! They Come!" The Nephilim screams with the tearing of his dead flesh and organs once-celestial.
"Brood of Apep, fire shall be put upon thee and a knife shall smite you!" Lydia calls and indeed in one hand she's carrying knife with a curved blade, though it seems far too slender a thing to break the skin of the four monstrosities now rising two from the brow of the corpse-angel, one from his elbow nearest to you and two from his thigh.
For these you know another name:
Mortwights. No mindless beasts these,
oh if only they were beasts.
"Thou shalt bring No Light into the House of the Void!" One screams.
"Thou shall offer no Succor in the House of the Blessed Wretch!" another howls, cruel mockery that fades like the wind
"Thou shat bear no weapons in the House of Eternal Peace!" the last one proclaims, invoking some cruel authority over the living and the dead alike!
"Did you not hear of spirits who dwell in darkness?" you call back in that. "Let go of the shadows of doubt and embrace the
certainty of your own extinction!"
Lydia Essence 4/7 (2/3 Jade Talisman)
Molly Essence 10/18
Tiffany is under the Effect of Impose Stricture Arcanoi: -1 Die for Each Taboo she breaks [Do not make light, do not help another, do not draw weaons]
Duration: 1 Hour, Subjective Time or until the caster is banished/destroyed
How do you fight the Morgrights?
[] Focus on driving them off as fast as you can so you can keep speaking to the Nephilim
[] You are running dangerously low on essence, both you and Lydia can regain motes by dealing Final Death to these horrors
[] Write in
OOC: And here we see the consequences of litterally borrowing into the darker layers of the Underworld looking for antedeluvian horrors, you managed to find the specters using proper Second Age Arcanoi.