Huh.
If Alexander uses that, I wonder what it'll change for the BK. Reid was an important character to canon CG.
Green Sun, Black Shadows (CG/Exalted)
- Thread starter Alexander89
- Start date
- Crossover
If Alexander uses that, I wonder what it'll change for the BK. Reid was an important character to canon CG.
NSMS
Probably evil, unfortunately.
- Location
- A rapidly widening tear in the fabric of reality
He'd probably still be willing to join, but I suspect he'd have a much larger influence on both the public and the direction the BK take.
Alexander89
Pet the pretty kitty? Y/N
- Location
- Italy
Alright: that, was a good snipYou will not believe me
I planned to have Diethard being a Raksha. I thought it was fitting for his canon love for good stories.
Not really. They don't interest me, and very few people would accept the deal. Even Seyrun thinks its dumb and Akuma are basically the closest things the Yozis would have to Saints (what with them giving up their free will to serve the Yozis, and all).
Ok... I know you came up with a group of Abyssals... is this Abyssal a Bonesaw expy?
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- Location
- Spain
+1. Akuma are boooring.
And we have to take care not to make too many characters anyway.
Frakir's brother
Goodbye.
- Location
- The Sea of Trees
I want making akuma to be an option, but not any original characters.
- Location
- his hidden lair
Not going to lie, Dietrich being a Raksha would be awesome, and I really want to see that happen now. Given how Oramus seems to be great at devouring and destroying Raksha, I'm really curious how he would react to Lelouch once he finds out what Yozi he serves.
Vaalintine
Wild Wondorous Wolfalope
Given how many Yozi seem to have jumped onboard the reclamation after it was underway, I have to wonder if there is a second group of Yozi aside from the canon 5 with their own plan of action. After all, Szoreny did have a plan to get himself & Isidoros paroled from Malfeas by outing TED to Sol in the RotSE book.
Looking at the Akuma...I think they are TOO effective, so much that taking the relatively unreliable Infernals only offers a modest boost over a larger number of Akuma.
Personally Akuma being Exalts Lite would only make sense if they were each composed of a disassembled Exaltation.
Much more likely would be an investiture of the patron's power. Motes permanently committed for the duration of the pact by the patron, in exchange for access to learning the patron's spirit charmset and picking up suitable mutations. Such an arrangement is a lot costlier on the patron's part, and requires a powerful base candidate to even wield the power granted...though they COULD always have their essence capacity greatly increased at a greater investment for a faster burnout.
Personally Akuma being Exalts Lite would only make sense if they were each composed of a disassembled Exaltation.
Much more likely would be an investiture of the patron's power. Motes permanently committed for the duration of the pact by the patron, in exchange for access to learning the patron's spirit charmset and picking up suitable mutations. Such an arrangement is a lot costlier on the patron's part, and requires a powerful base candidate to even wield the power granted...though they COULD always have their essence capacity greatly increased at a greater investment for a faster burnout.
Stark freaking terror.
will408914
(slouching towards bethlehem)
- Location
- California
I agree. Diethard as a Solar is cool, if a bit odd, but he fits as a Raksha so well.
I also had an idea to make Odysseus eu Britannia a Dawn caste and also Expy of Odyssial complete with a sword that adds +1 Essence and faking it as a DB.
Unfortunately, I couldn't write something for him that's as awesome as the snip I wrote Diethard. Canon Odysseus just isn't that interesting a character.
Unfortunately, I couldn't write something for him that's as awesome as the snip I wrote Diethard. Canon Odysseus just isn't that interesting a character.
Would be awesome, but extremely unlikely for him to be a Raksha. He is suited to a Solar-tier Exaltation, though. However, I'm not sure the snippet given is quite in character for him - Diethard is not a good person, and he doesn't particularly care about atrocities. He's not interested in reporting the objective truth, he's interesting in reporting something interesting. He wanted to witness and document Zero's fight against Britannia and to turn Zero into a god to be worshiped. He changes sides to Schneizel eventually because he thinks that Schneizel's plans are more interesting. He would have been the perfect Infernal for Elloge, had we chosen him as our Defiler. If he was going to report Britannian atrocities against Numbers, he'd be doing it
That said, people who aren't exactly good can and do get Solar Exaltations, so it's not impossible for him to get one.
I'm sorry... what? Odysseus Exalting as a Solar is incredibly unlikely. He's utterly mediocre - Lelouch literally calls him "the mediocre prince". While he's technically first in line to the throne, he'd never attain the throne, or would be Schneizel's puppet at best. The guy probably didn't even Exalt as a Dragonblooded, given his apparent mediocrity. As you said, canon Odysseus just isn't an interesting character. Solar Exaltations do not seek out people who are mediocre and uninteresting.
Of course what I wrote wasn't meant to be the objective truth of Diethard's character. It's what he would have his biographer write because he couldn't be bothered to do it himself. I like to think of him as Zenith Desus, and if I have posted his complete sheet it would have shown up in his motivation and intimacy.
It the snippet, objectively what happened is that Diethart snuck into the ghetto hoping to get a juicy story that would land him on a prime time spot. He was tempted to exposed the atrocities because it's a good story. But he was also smart enough to realize it was a suicidal move.
But the Sun made the decision for him.
NSMS mentioned maybe converting a few of said Solars into akuma, which is why that conversation started. It has nothing to do with what you said.
1. It makes a lot more sense that the story is a propagandized version of it, as that fits Diethard more. (though he would write his own autobiography, provided he was interested in telling his own story) It's not clear in the snippet, though. But yeah, Zenith Desus would probably be a somewhat accurate way to describe a Solar Diethard.
2. The Sun can't decide for you if you're going to do something or not. That's not how Solar Exaltations work - Exalts have free will by design. The mortal in question has to make the decision to do something, and then said mortal has to go through with it. The Exaltation then judges them worthy and gives them the extra oomph to succeed where they otherwise are likely to fail. Diethard would have had to have decided he wanted to report the atrocities of his own will. If Diethard decided not to report them, he gets nothing.
Honestly, I think he'd not bother reporting the atrocities (if he even bothered to go film them, as there wouldn't have been anything of particular note to cause him to go to that particular battle) if only because he would find them insufficiently interesting. Nothing much but a few riots would come from airing them, after all, and those would be put down swiftly, and it's not like there's much in the way of interesting characters involved. On the flipside, he's probably pleased as punch about the whole Pureblood conspiracy story, as it's very different from the narrative he's used to telling on the news.
That said, there are opportunities for him to report on interesting things. The Black Knights formed in a very different manner than in canon, with no murder of Clovis to spur Zero's reveal, so he might get wind of the new resistance group and investigate it and end up reporting on Zero. Or he might be interested in telling the tale of Clovis's descent into paranoid madness. Perhaps he might run with a camera in tow to show a battle between two Exalts, risking his own life in the process. Or any number of truly interesting stories and events based on what's happening in Area Eleven.
Personally, I'd prefer for the other exalted to be farther away from us. It's a huge world and we're already concentrating Infernal efforts in Japan, let's not overpopulate the place.
There's also a bit of "one unicorn in the garden" going on as well; if everyone around us is an exalt, then us being an exalt loses its impact.
There's also a bit of "one unicorn in the garden" going on as well; if everyone around us is an exalt, then us being an exalt loses its impact.
NSMS
Probably evil, unfortunately.
- Location
- A rapidly widening tear in the fabric of reality
Nope, not even close. None of them are expies, actually.
Alexander89
Pet the pretty kitty? Y/N
- Location
- Italy
How can you say that? Yuno-chan has plenty of feelings, even for those who hurt her Yuki-kun: annoyance, anger, hate, sadistic glee...
Plus she has this:
This means hat now Yuno-chan is very, very good at making friends!
If they do that, I wonder who will do the work of the gods then...
Why do you think it's extremely unlikely? I mean, he doesn't even have a canon backstory.
Every would be conqueror needs some underlings that aren't puny mortals. I really see your point though, and I will take care to not go overboard.
Anyway, since Enjou's plan ask to get two Pantheon Charms, I have made up a way to characterize Pantheon Souls:
PANTHEON SOULS
Primordials are not merely singular beings, in the manner of lesser creatures. Even lessened as they are, the Yozis are nations, civilizations, worlds in their own right. They are legion. And from the moment of their Exaltation, the Infernal Exalted have taken their first steps onto a similar path. All other Exalts have three souls - the hun, the po, and the keter soul of the Exaltation. The Green Sun Princes have in addition the fourth soul of their coadjutor, the once-demon fused into a synthetic soul hierarchy. Within them, however, they have the potential to expand beyond that.
Charms with this keyword develop an additional nascent soul within the Infernal. Other Charms can synergize with and play off this, and certain heretical Charms may ask for them as prerequisites (for example, Fourth-Soul Devil Domain requires that the Infernal has learned a Pantheon-keyworded Charm before they can build a small world within their soul).
The newborn spirit is mechanically treated as a deva of the Second Circle who descends from the Infernal, and who may not be bound by any other sorcerer. The Infernal's player and the Storyteller should design the newborn deva around the personal themes of the warlock and their personality as interpreted through the appropriate First (Yozi) Excellency and the Charm that created the Deva. Prerequisite Charms to the Pantheon Charms and Charms that use the Pantheon Charm as prerequisite (even if not directly) may be used to expand the deva's themes. It has an unbreakable positive Intimacy rated 5 towards the Infernal - though the precise context of the Intimacy may change.
====
Clear enough? Let's make an example with Sun-Heart Furnace Soul: the deva born from it possess traits the traits of Lelouch that more resonate with the Malfeas Excellency, magnified while the rest is muted, and the Charm itself. Skyfire-Seizing Repast and Insignificant Embers Intuition can also be used to expand the Deva's themes and abilities. Were Lelouch to also learn Rage-Stoked Inferno Soul, it's possible to use it to further expand the Deva's abilities.
Pantheon Souls so formed are the aspects of Lelouch that most resonate with the original Yozi, made manifest. They are part of himself, not something alien stamped into his soul.
I ask this now because I need to know how to handle the two newborn souls: what do you want them to look like? Do you want them as infants, or old and intelligent enough but still emotionally immature? How they see Lelouch?
I believe those are all matters that must be decided between you and me, so I need your input.
- Location
- Wörms, the half continent
Regarding the physical and mental maturity of the souls, I believe that it should depend on how much Lulu expresses the traits. For example, the soul created by My Dark Lady represents the part of lelouch that is cunning, and devious and enjoys plotting. These are all major parts of lelouch, and as such the soul should be more emotionally and mentally mature than a soul created by Sun-Heart Furnce, which would represent the Malfean aspects of lelouch- which are less important than EB's parts- and as such would be more immature than MDL's soul.
Regarding physical appearance, given the souls are metaphysical constructs, the physical maturity should represent the level of mental maturity. To go back to my previous examples, MDL's soul would be closer to Lelouch's age than the infantile SHFS's soul.
- Location
- his hidden lair
I like this sort of method, but I'd like to point out that the Malfean aspects of Lelouch aren't really small or less important than the EB aspects. We're talking about a guy who engineered a world wide war, murdered children, betrayed anyone and everyone who ever cared about him (barring C.C.) all to play out his gambit and create world peace by uniting the world in hatred against him. Like I advocated earlier; Lelouch's malfeasan arrogance/massive ego isn't in direct regards to himself, but in his actions. He justifies a ton of atrocities, alienates almost everyone he cares about, and a whole bunch of war crimes for "the greater good", even with the Zero Requiem Lelouch still saw himself as the good guy doing what had to be done. You can't actually have a character even resembling canon Lelouch without that overwhelming conviction that he's in the right and that the ends totally justify his means. I'd argue while that absolute surety in the righteousness of his cause might be less developed than his sense of cleverness/deviousness it's not small or underdeveloped by any means. And this Lelouch probably has further developed that sense of righteousness than Canon Lelouch would have by this same point.
End of the Road (Nadir and Gyula - Part 4)
[X] Suzaku is alive! Be happy but keep up your public mask.
-[X] "Suzaku..." You resist the urge to stare in shock. It takes a great deal of your will to keep up your carefully crafted mask. Your Essence Sight doesn't show him to be someone else magically disguised, so you're pretty damn sure it's him. You don't know how he survived, but you can catch up with him later, but for now you can't reveal anything that might link him to your secret past. "Well, I have to say I'm surprised, Suzaku. I would never have expected to see you here, but it's good to see you again." You say, smiling honestly. You turn to Rivalz. "Rivalz, have you met Suzaku? He helped me out after that idiot driver in the truck accident drove off with me inside."
-[X] Later when you're assured of privacy (the last thing you want is to give your fanclub ideas) give him a hug, let him know you're glad he's alive. The two of you have some catching up to do, and you're sure Nunnally would love to see him again.
Just doing my democratic duty (half a week too late for it to really matter, but so what?)
Hear, hear. Although with me it is that every omake just becomes so much larger than the previous one. For my omakes on this thread 'Scourge is chosen: 1732 words; Second Breath: 2752 words; Roaming the (shadow)lands: 3623 words and End of the road: 8187 words. To be fair I had said I would be pumping out two more omakes for Nadir and ended up combining the two into one monstrosity, but there you go.
End of the Road
"Okay, so I get that the Yozi Kimbery is handing out orders to further the Reclamation on me by giving me assignments such as taking out influential actors on the world stage. Like Cornelia li Brittania, the Goddess of Victory and the Witch of Brittania, who is an Exalt of her own through her bloodline, somehow. And I get that ruining her reputation as invincible and her status as one of the Empire's favorite daughters could be beneficial in disrupting Heaven's plan with controlling the world through their stooges in the Holy Empire of Brittania. But is it really necessary to destroy every one of her subordinates and every piece of infrastructure that belongs to her army?"
An axe in each hand, Nadir leisurely walked towards the lone farm he had spotted earlier. Over the course of the three days that he had mindlessly traversed the desert Gyula had talked extensively about Malfeas, about the Yozi and how important the mission they had given him was. He talked about Cecelyne, the endless desert who imposed the rule of the strong on all demons, he talked about the Ebon Dragon, Bringer of Night and the primary architect of the sundering of the jade Prison and thus also the reclamation as it is known nowadays. He talked extensively on the patron of nadir's caste, Adorjan, the Silent Wind who was once the River of Torment and the Yozi most feared by those who dwell in Malfeas as well as the one Yozi that Nadir had met already, Kimbery.
Even as he had left the dessert for a scarred and hollowed out mountain range the teodozjia filled his mind with species of first circle demons who were created to fill whatever new niche their Second Circle lords had deemed amusing or necessary.
So it shouldn't come as a surprise that the warlock had both grown more used to talking to his new compatriot, who seemed to truly enjoy answering the questions that Nadir asked him. And the questions he asked had clearly become more complex, another aspect of their budding symbiotic relationship that both the Scourge as well as the teodozjia were clearly quite happy about.
'Because those that serve under her would be able to apply her combat strategies and general tactical acumen even after her demise. So long as her subordinates, of which there are quite a few other Dragonblooded, are able to carry on her spirit she would still function as a martyr figure. Only the complete eradication of the entire division would suffice to end her legend and legacy. The same goes for every last weapon and piece of technology that is used under her command. The lesser gods of those objects glut themselves on the prayers directed at Cornelia, with her own consent no less. It is for that reason that the Sea that Marched against the Flame ordained you to wipe it all out, lest those traitorous Terrestrial gods might continue to grow in power and importance. And it hardly needs to be said that that would come back to 'bite you in the ass'.'
"Which would instead leave us with a legion of 'more powerful than the norm' deities whom we would all have to kill on top of killing or subverting all her troops and destroying all the infrastructure. And I don't even have a way of permanently killing gods and spirits yet." Well, if the job was supposed to be easy the Yozi wouldn't have resorted to bringing back those who made the impossible possible.
The sandstorm that was raging somehow felt even less 'real' than the rest of the underworld, as if the sand hitting Nadir's bare skin was somehow a mirage. Just one more breeze amongst thousands.
His experiences with ghosts had not been pleasant in the slightest, but was that reason enough to forego everything else and just attack those farmers without any provocation?
On the one hand, Gyula has been rather explicit on their worth and Malfeas' stance on the denizens of the underworld and the Exalted that the Neverborn would be churning out was not unknown to him either. Then there was the whole 'release from suffering by death' philosophy that Adorjan embodied. On the other the ghosts themselves had done nothing against him, yet.
He was now barely a hundred meters away from the farm and the two ghosts had noticed him. Well, might as well try the diplomatic route.
'As if they would recognize the honor and act in an appropriate manner. Might as well expect Yu-Shan to not be the corrupt cesspit that it has been since the Usurpation.'
Deciding to ignore his coadjutor for the time being, Nadir had caught the attention of the two ghosts and, with some overly grand gestures, laid his two axes on the ground.
"We don't appreciate you living folks 'round these parts."
When had Nadir crossed the Atlantic Ocean to come face to face with the unliving embodiment of the stereotypically racist and intellectually challenged Brittanian farmer? With a blank face Nadir just quietly turned to face the other farmer.
"Please forgive my grandfather, he is like that to everybody he meets." The other was a somewhat androgynous guy, or maybe a very masculine woman. "Very nice of you to put down your weapons before approaching us." Was it just him or did hir eyes flicker down for a moment? "So, what can we do for you?"
Right, best not to waste too much time here. "As you can see I've been robbed three days ago by a band of ruffians who claimed they were working for the First and Forsaken Lion, left without even the clothes on my back or any means of procuring food for the past three days. I hate having to impose on you and rely on your kindness, but is it possible for you to give me some clothes to wear and food to nourish me? I'd be very grateful."
"Typical living moochers, not even mentioning any compensation." Nadir's skill at ignoring the grumblings of the elderly was still magnificent, which of course meant that his eyebrow was not twitching erratically.
'Perish the thought.'
Thank you, Gyula.
"I am afraid my grandfather is right, sir. We cannot just give food to every stranger that comes knocking on our door. We don't even have enough to cover the important festivities as it is." Nadir couldn't help but glance at the field of wheat that looked ready for the scythe. "We really can't help you. Not like it would be smart to go against the First and Forsaken Lion, even in such an indirect manner." Was that how s/he wanted to play this game?
"It is not like those brigands were truly part of the Lion's forces. For what reason would the Lion require one set of substandard clothing when he never seems to take that armor of his off?"
"No, all we have is the food and clothes offered to us by our descendant's offerings. To give those precious grave goods away would be like spitting in their face and reject our role of guiding them during though times." Nadir was about to open his mouth again when he noticed a glint in the eyes of the younger-looking ghost. Was this what Gyula meant about the rigidity and stubbornness of the deceased? While the hunger wasn't too bad yet, it's not like he could waste all that much more time with what was essentially some petty luxuries.
"I see, I apologize for having wasted your time, then." And with that Nadir turned around and walked back the way he came. He could just feel the smirk of the elder oaf and the disapproving glare of the gender-confused one. Yet they turned around and continued their work like he hadn't even talked to them in the first place.
Sighing he bent his knees and picked up the hatchet in his right hand and the poleaxe in his left.
And then buried the latter in the oaf's head two seconds later, cleaving his spectral body in twain. The hatchet flew out of his hand, decapitating the androgynous one who was sporting as blank a stare as possible.
'Hmm.'
Not even paying attention Nadir made his way to the small farm, even if the clothes didn't fit, they would just have to do. As for food, even if they spoke the truth, he could just eat the grain. He might get a stomachache, but what with how unlikely that would be Nadir would just have to like it.
'Hmhmhmhmm.'
Ugh, fine. You were right and I was wrong.
'Now say it out loud, properly.'
"I'm sorry for ever doubting your great wisdom, oh mighty Gyula. I still need your counsel and my puny mind is like a child's sandcastle compared to one of the layers of Malfeas that yours is. I hereby acknowledge your greater intellect, but unless it knows a way for me to get access to a map to the nearest shadowland without having to converse and negotiate with one of the cretins, that is still what I must do. You happy now?"
'Quite happy, Peer Nadir.'
Ugh, he would find a way of transporting objects from the real world to his mind and the first thing he would do was put a laser light in his mindscape and its light would shine right in front of Gyula and it would draw circles and he would be beyond frustrated that he couldn't catch the pretty light. And then Nadir would be victorious.
Now if only Gyula could stop snickering.
It was a pity that Gyula was not aware of all the minutiae of spectral decorum and haggling methods, because Nadir could have really used a crash course in it right about now.
Tensions had risen quite a bit since he had entered the small settlement. He had first asked a cartographer for directions to the nearest shadowland, but after she had pretended to ignore his questions twice she instead started screaming something about the greenbloods and the barony of forgotten dunes the third time around. Which was then followed up by an entire streets' worth of ghostly pedestrians running into the nearest building, only to then run back out and go in a different building. Three times.
Asking another lead to a pub-wide brawl that mostly involved jumpkicks and cartwheels and the one after that devolved into a discussion/rant on the horrors of traversing the desert on necrotech steeds built primarily out of possums. Possums of all bloody creatures.
Nadir just knew that if he didn't wrap things up quickly the dumb-as-bricks ghosts would band together and try to run him out of the place. And then he would have to kill them and then he would have to listen to Gyula's mocking laughter for even longer. And he has had enough of that for the rest of the day.
There were spots that he hadn't checked yet, small alleys and hidden corners that seemed to house the deviants of the wandering dead, the ones who didn't partake in the sheer stupidity that seemed to have the minds of the others in its firm grip.
He had tucked his hatchet in his waistband and covered it with his shirt and made sure to hold the poleaxe with the bladed end down, the blade itself pointing away from whomever he was talking to. He hoped that that would be enough to calm the ghosts down and assure them of his 'honorable' intentions, but that hadn't exactly worked out for him so far.
Shaking those negative thoughts away Nadir made his way to the streets, the first shady alley he would come across would be the one he would investigate and he would find a sane ghost.
"It's actually quite nearby, sonny." In the blink of an eye Nadir had turned around to face the owner of the voice and was met with a child, couldn't be older than ten.
"Pardon?" When in doubt, be polite. If proven unworthy of such basic niceties Nadir could always get to insulting or attacking them afterwards.
"You haven't exactly been subtle with your inquires, sonny. Shadowlands have only been popping up again for the past four or five years, so it has been something of a touchy subject for those who suddenly found themselves with a portal back to the world of the living in their backyard.
"But yeah, see that volcano over in the distance?" The boy specter pointed at the smoking mountain that Nadir had noticed at his arrival. "The shadowland is about ten kilometers west of it. You'll recognize it by the fairy circles that are spread all over the surface, mostly made from grass and stones but there are other kinds as well. Do make sure that you don't run past it, it is rather small, with a radius of about two hundred meters."
That...that was exactly the information he was looking for. After all the disappointment and ridiculousness it was just thrown in his lap like that.
"Why would you just reveal that information if it is such a sensitive topic?"
"Mostly to get you out of here and back to Creation, so you won't bring even more trouble to this place than you've already done." The kid ghost then turned around to look at the bustling street.
"Do forgive them. A ghost's sense of time is quite different from that of a living mortal, so it will be a couple of decades before they and the rest of the underworld will calm down and accept the way things are."
"You mean something aside from their crazy behavior? Or is that par for the course?"
"The emotions that they held on to with their dying breath has influenced them heavily, so they might not resemble their former living selves all that much. What you should have done was to..."
And just like that Nadir had lost all interest in the affairs of the small village. Without even sparing a thought as to why the underage looking ghost would be so much more composed than his fellow wandering dead or why he would talk about the shadowlands as if he remembered the period from before the Twin Cataclysms, Nadir turned around and walked away.
The unnamed ghost just smiled, the antics of the living was entertainment enough for him. No reason to personally get involved with the shitstorm that was coming.
'Peer Nadir, there is one other thing you should concern yourself with before making plans to leave this realm.'
It was only then that Nadir noticed the new arrivals. Haggard looking, mad glints in each of their eyes, the new arrivals had surrounded him in the blink of an eye. There were over two dozen of them and more were pouring into the streets with every passing second, yet the inhabitants of the town were the ignoring them and were ignored in return.
'Hungry ghosts, the po soul of the deceased left unhindered by the burdens of a greater intellect. When they gather in these numbers and are placid enough that they don't start attacking anyone and anything in sight it could only mean that there is somebody that can keep them in check nearby. Will you be employing your discretion once more, Peer Nadir?'
If he had a good idea of how far away the shadowland was that might have been an option, but out there it was nothing but plains upon plains, not the ideal place to be if you were trying to run away with an army of ghosts nipping at your heels whilst searching for a relatively tiny spot in said wasteland.
'And in return endanger the existence of all the ghosts who live here?' Gyula's question wasn't so much expressing outrage or disappointment, but almost... probing?
Even as more and more hungry ghosts showed up and closed in on him Nadir's posture was still relaxed, nothing about him gave the impression he was worried.
"It's not like they cease to exist if killed, and besides, what about the ghosts? Why should I care about them when I've had all of one neutral reaction from them in a sea of negative ones? Fuck ghosts."
That, and he had a lot of pent up aggression he just had to get rid of and if mindless hordes were presented to him on a silver platter?
The moment he took a single step the ravenous band looked up as one. By the time he had taken the second their guard had been up and by the third they roared as one and charged.
With barely a thought Nadir grabbed the arm of one of the 'innocent' onlookers and threw him at the closest group, only to see him being torn to shreds by ten hands in the time that would have taken a normal man to blink. And then they were upon him.
It was as if they had lost their previous synchronicity, their grabbing hands bumping the others away and ending up in the the open jaws of the others. Nadir didn't hesitate and buried his axehead in the chest of the closest one of them and dug his fingers in the eye socket of the smallest of the five.
His sudden intrusion broke the tangled hungry ghosts apart, one even crashing into a stall. Not letting go of either Nadir kept going forward, trampling all over one of the surprised hungry ghosts, running up the walls of a nearby building. Ignoring the screeching of his two unwilling 'passengers' Nadir jumped of the edge of the roof, vaulting in the air, swinging his poleaxe and letting the gutted, barely moving corpse of a hungry corpse forward.
In midair he landed on top of said corpse and jumped off again. The soles of his feet were bloody and the other hungry ghost was desperately trying, and failing, to get him to let it go, but that didn't diminish his enjoyment in the slightest was he saw the corpse crash on top of the wares of a weapon merchant, the cart creaking loudly under its increased weight.
Just as the other hungry ghost was about to tear into Nadir's arm with its claws Nadir whipped his arm forward, throwing the hungry ghost forward, its squished eyeball thrown away with a careless gesture.
As he landed on top of the ghost Nadir tore its throat apart with a daft application of the poleaxe and at the same time jumped off again. Its body came crashing down like a miniature comet, destroying the town well as it got buried in the underground spring.
As Nadir landed on a rooftop nearly a hundred meters away from the market street he jumped back down to the street level, easily avoiding the attention of any and all ghosts, hungry or otherwise. But as he started making his way down the streets, planning ways to make the mindless beasts and their master fear him as they should fear all of demonkind he noticed something, internally.
"Gyula, is it just me or have my Essence pools been slightly replenished since a couple of days ago? Didn't you say that that wasn't possible in the underworld?"
'What do you mean?' Then it felt like something was ruffling inside of him and Nadir could hear Gyula's murmuring and, was that whistling? After a couple of moments Gyula answered.
'Well, Peer Nadir, you are correct. Your essence pools have been refilled somewhat and, embarrassingly enough, I only now remember the other method that is at your disposal as far as recovering essence is concerned. The Yozi, in their infinite wisdom, made it so that, be it in Creation or its pale reflection, acting in ways that please and amuse them, gets you rewarded, filling your essence pools or reinforcing the strength of your mind and will. Should you grow a bit further in your abilities your patron and the patron of your caste shall bestow new 'options' as it were. The feared Adorjan will bless you with her dreaded winds that shred your foes apart and benevolent Kimbery aids you in healing your wounds. Essentially, doing 'awesome stuff', as the ignorant mortal masses would call it, will be of invaluable worth to your contributions to the cause of the Reclamation.'
"Wait, so is this something exclusive to the chosen of the Yozi? None of the other exalted hosts can do this?" Because if so that would be a massive, possibly crucial, advantage he would have over the chosen of the Incarnae, Neverborn or the Dragonblooded.
'They have access to the same basic 'system', but cannot make use of the Yozi-specific varieties.'
Yeah, he knew that would be too good to be true. Still, this was excellent news.
If they thought he would be easily found and dispatched of, it would only be proper for Nadir to play with his new toys. Too bad they would break.
Let's see if the Yozi give bonus points for interesting and inventive kills.
The vagaries of the Yozi would forevermore be a mystery to Nadir.
Needless to say, Nadir hadn't managed to replicate his earlier 'success' with the seven or so hungry ghosts that he had stalked and killed.
Gyula had advised him to just table it until he could bring it up with his fellow warlocks.
And it seemed like he had finally hit the jackpot.
There were three of them. The two, rather brawny, hungry ghosts were half a step behind their leader who was most definitely not a hungry ghost.
He was definitely taller than the other two, emaciated, with arms that went all the way down to where his knees were, with claws that looked like they wouldn't be out of place on a gorilla-sized sloth. The manic glint in his eyes wasn't that of a mindless beast, no, this was someone whose intelligence would not be outdone, even by a well-educated human, it's just that the only worthy application he had for said intelligence was to hurt and break whatever else it came across. The leather bandages that covered the entirety of his body were just the final nail in the proverbial coffin.
Nadir had found the ringleader.
'Bah, if the Deathlord only sent a Mortwight to capture and kill a Green Sun Prince, he would have killed himself by tripping into the Mouth of the Void from sheer stupidity. Do not think that this is all he has sent after you, Peer Nadir.'
Duly noted, Gyula.
The trio hadn't noticed him, so when they walked by his position Nadir exited the shadow he had been hiding him and swung his poleaxe sideways. Unlike every other time he had used his trusty axe, this time it didn't rip his target apart. Instead the weapon's blade got stuck in the arm of the howling hungry ghost. The roaring, flailing hungry ghost who was stronger than him by a significant degree. Who had just grabbed the poleaxe with its other hand and slammed him against the wall.
Nadir barely managed to avoid getting squashed like a bug, but that didn't mean that he avoided damage altogether. If his exaltation hadn't made him significantly more capable of tanking damage Nadir was sure his ankle would have been broken as opposed to 'merely' heavily bruised.
It was still painful to put weight on that leg, but at least it could still support his weight. The injured hungry ghost ripped the axe out of its arm as its fellow made a mad dash at Nadir.
For a moment it looked like the hungry ghost was going to bite Nadir's throat off, but at the last second deviated from its path, clamping its arms and legs across Nadir's torso and left leg, which would have pulled him down if he hadn't been using the poleaxe like a walking stick.
Which was just what the Mortwight wanted. With a single shriek of pleasure he leapt forward as well, his massive claws pointing directly at Nadir's chest. The other hungry ghost looked on, cradling his injured arm as if it would help his injuries.
Nadir held no illusions on what his fate would be if he didn't stop those claws from tearing his chest apart. So he did the one thing he could still do. He fell.
As he threw himself on the ground he rotated his torso and hips as much as the clinching ghost allowed, putting it in the way of the reaping claws. The Mortwight didn't slow down and without a shred of doubt or regret pierced the hungry ghost's back with all five oversized claws. Nadir barely had half a second to react between the slackening of the hungry ghost's grip and sharing its fate.
With strength he didn't know he had Nadir threw the crippled hungry ghost off of him and jumped backwards. What would have been a death sentence instead was reduced to five wicked, but shallow wounds across his chest. With a quick motion he pulled his hatchet from his waistband and threw it at the remaining hungry ghost. Maybe it was the shock of being attacked when it had thought itself to be safe, but the ghost didn't even try to dodge or defend itself as the axe planted itself in its chest, but it definitely knew that Death has come knocking once more, going by its trashing and screaming.
That...wasn't good. That screaming would attract everyone in the town to this little alley and the Mortwight was already closing in on him again even as Nadir scrambled back up. Ignoring the painful twitching from his chest and ankle Nadir held his poleaxe in front of him. With how little space there was available in the alley he was at a distinct disadvantage with his large poleaxe and he couldn't afford to have this become a battle of endurance and stamina. His decision made him sent a trickle of essence to the skin of his chest, as a safeguard if nothing else.
The Mortwight ran like a speeding bullet, both hands in front of him. Nadir swung.
He overextended and the poleaxe was ripped in half by the claws of one hand. The other tore into the side of his ribcage. But that was what the precaution was for.
The essence had discolored his skin into an amalgam of colors, bright yellow, fiery red, deep blue and a verdant black. Kimbery's famed poison had been bubbling right beneath his skin, waiting for the fool to touch it with his bare body.
The Mortwight's scream easily eclipsed that of his subordinates as he seemingly tried to scratch his own arm off. As if that would be enough to get rid of the tincture.
Let the wretch suffer, was what his instincts were saying. The poison would just have to be enough for the Mortwight. Flexing his pectorals Nadir closed the wounds, but the pain didn't abate in the slightest.
Grabbing his throwing axe from the still corpse of the hungry ghost Nadir ran, it wasn't as if he needed to look behind him to know that there were over fifty enemies hot on his trail.
He just hoped he would hold out until he reached the shadowland.
Before, Nadir had run for three days straight at speeds no mortal man could reach under his own power, with only enough time in between to get his eight hours of sleep. And after that he had been barely winded, in fact, it felt more like he had gone on a spring walk rather than the dead run he had forced himself to.
Now he was wheezing, clutching his chest, feeling the wounds there pulsing, like a slight breeze might split them open again. His ankle was burning.
Nadir had run all the way to the volcano and had actually ascended it for quite a bit before he had stopped.
They were gathering at the foot of the mountain. Dozens upon dozens of hungry ghosts were only barely being restrained from running and climbing up the mountain. There were two Mortwights as well, neither showing any signs of being inflicted with any poison, so nadir assumed that his earlier foe had succumbed to his injuries or was otherwise incapacitated.
Not like it mattered. Nadir was going to die on this mountain. His wounds slowed him down too much. Even with the slight headstart he had had on the ghost force, they had caught up to him. Even if he continued running, the hungry ghosts would catch up and tear him apart long before he could reach the shadowland.
The start signal must have been given, because the teeming mass went forward, climbing over rocks like it was the greatest thing in the world. The one in the back, the only one to be seated on some kind of unholy steed looked at his position, as if assured that this time there would be no escaping for his prey. What had he told the Yozi Kimbery those four days ago, which felt like four decades by now? 'I will honor my mother in the only way a son could: by succeeding.' It only took four days for that vow to be shattered to smithereens. What was that about changing the conditions for victory until you have attained it by definition? That didn't just sound uncool, it didn't even make any sense.
Nadir suddenly remembered he hadn't been wearing any shoes for the past couple of days when he felt a small, cool stream trickle against his bare sole. It was lava.
Oh right, the magic that made him impervious to any sort of damage caused by liquids was still a...
'HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA'
Gyula's hysterical, avalanche-like laughter stopped Nadir's train of thought dead in its tracks.
What in Malfeas' name? Do you consider my demise to be that hilarious?
'Hihihahehahe, do forgive me Peer Nadir, it is just that I was reminded of something I heard about nearly a century ago. You see, when Creation was still under the sole dominion of the then-Primordials, they had built into its very fabric the means for them to change it as they pleased, whether it was to isolate an area from the space-time continuum, bringing life back to wastelands the size of your country of birth or so much more. After the insurrection of the gods it was one of their exalted that discovered the means to tap into this power, naming it Sorcery and even later on discovered other, weaker plateaus of power that their lesser brethren and the gods could utilize.'
This is hardly the time for a history lesson, Gyula. Get to the point.
'There was one such lesser 'spell' that had been created as a mockery of sorts to benevolent Kimbery. A spell that imitated one of her most well-known ways of attacking and slaying her foes, yet cast in the element she most despised, to the point that it is part of her sobriquet. The name given to that spell is 'Magma Kraken'.'
The hungry ghosts had cleared the way for the two Mortwights, each and every one of them docile like a lapdog. It was rather odd how so many that had been exposed to the void of Oblivion became such attention starving, scenery chewing drama queens, but time and time again this proved to be the case. Maybe it had something to do with their belief they had to be even more dramatic and over the top than a regular ghost's passions drove them to be.
"Hihi"
The Mortwights now stood at the head of the band, the false sun shining high above them, the volcano all but announcing their glorious victory that they would dedicate to the Neverborn.
"HIHIHIHAHHAHHEHEHAHEHHAHIOHOHHHAHHHAHHAH"
For a brief second the entire war band stood still as the laughter hit them. For a moment the Mortwights thought that Nadir had finally lost his mind, yet at the same time they were intimately aware of that sensation and nothing about Nadir's body language said anything along those lines. It might have meant that they had been played for fools and had walked right into a trap. But the very next thing that happened all but confirmed Nadir's insanity to his insane crowd.
From the ground sprouted two tiny magma tendrils, barely thirty centimeters in length. And all they did was crash and grind into the earth over and over again, not even trying to attack any of Nadir's bloodthirsty foes.
Nadir continued laughing maniacally even as the Mortwights and a couple of hungry ghosts made their way towards him. Even if they had noticed the tendrils retreating back into the ground, they wouldn't have cared. The ghosts stood back some distance as the two Mortwights flanked the kneeling, hunched form of nadir Yilmaz, Infernal Exalted of the Scourge Caste and soon to be plaything of the Deathlord the First and Forsaken Lion.
They each simultaneously raised their clawed hands, like executioners before the condemned. To their surprise and suddenly newfound sense of dreaded fear, the ground rose as well.
The two would never know, but beneath them the magma had coalesced and formed a rather familiar shape and lifted a slab of earth, curiously enough one who had been weakened at the edges by a pair of magma tendrils.
The slab, holding Nadir and the two Mortwights, had been flung into the air by another tendril, its length identical to its smaller cousins, but in size? Like the Yozi herself had found a way out of the Surrender Oaths to lay waste to all who would dare harm her newest child.
The two Mortwights had lost their balance when they had been flung into the air and Nadir, who had replaced his insane laughter for a truly diabolical grin, grabbed them by their ankles and dragged them along as he jumped off of the airborne slab and into the magma, mouth wide open.
He was the only one of the three to enjoy the experience.
The moment he went underground the prodigious tentacle that he had called forth, which had already been leaning over a small cliff, lost cohesion and fell apart, showering the dozen hungry ghosts with a rain of magma. Their screams were nothing compared to the thunderous roar that the slab made when it crashed down again, the avalanche dragging and crushing another score of hungry ghosts.
The survivors hastily turned around, more than willing to abandon their fellow ghosts and their mission if it meant they didn't have to get swallowed up by the river of lava that was closing in on them.
Then the magma kraken made its return, blocking their escape path even as it came crashing down on the ground, crushing it and making even more magma flow.
What little grass and other foliage that had called the mountain home were burned from mere exposure to the massive heat. Entire sections of the volcano wer torn to shreds, dragging itself and anything on it into the molten depths of the imitation of Creation. And not even the leader, the Nephwrack who heard the whispers of the Neverborn better than any other on or near the volcano, was safe from Nadir's wrath.
Even as he tried to escape a tentacle had thrown him and his ghost horse off, into a pool of magma. His soulsteel plate armor protected him from the worst of it, unlike his steed, but even that wasn't enough to safeguard him entirely. His armor, weighing him down, hindered him from reaching the shore. He ignored the splatters of magma burning their way through his head as he, with a herculean effort dragged himself out of the pool. His otherwise already ghoulish face was half ashes and scorch marks, but that didn't matter to him. The tentacles were gone and there was a kilometer long lake of magma leading away from the mountain, to the west.
Even now he could see a tiny blip stumbling away from the volcano. He would avenge this humiliation soon enough, but first he had to take care of this annoyance.
The Nephwrack was surrounded by magma on all sides, yet the only thing he did was draw his unmarred blade from its equally pristine sheath. For a couple of seconds he allowed his fell essence to cloak his blade as his prayer to the Neverborn echoed through the underworld.
Then, with a single slash, he ripped open a portal to the Labyrinth and watched it greedily suck in the superheated earth like the drek it was.
He ran across the cool surface until he was well away from any other lava-related traps and hindrances. He inhaled sharply, gathering even more of his essence in his mouth and when it had reached its peak, he spat out the black ooze and watched it form into a hulking beast of a shadow-wolf, easily more than four meters tall. Then, without a single word, the mighty beasts shrunk, a shadow sticking to the ground, racing off to find his prey and to keep him in place until its master arrived to kill the filthy living scum; its master close behind him.
Behind them, the last pieces of the volcano's western walls came tumbling down, the gaping ravine spilling ever greater quantities of lava in its surroundings. None would come near the place for the next century.
He was nearing the shadowland.
He was now exactly nine and a half kilometers west of the volcano and was surrounded on all sides by trees. He was slowly making his way forward, looking in all directions to make sure he wouldn't accidentally walk right past his last ticket back into Creation.
He knew he had eliminated quite a number of the ghosts with his little stunt with the volcano, but he hadn't stuck around long enough to see if he had gotten them all. There was always the possibility that the shadowland was crawling with soldiers of the Lion as well, so as long as he could stay ahead of any news that told them of what had happened with the other group, the better his chances of sneaking past them.
'Nadir, suspicious shadow closing in at seven o'clock.'
Nadir immediately saw what Gyula meant. A disturbingly black patch was flitting in between the trees, slithering along vines and crawling in between small cracks that a corporeal being had no business ever being in.
It leapt at him, a lupine maw making up the majority of its head.
Nadir spat lava at it. Then buried his hatchet in its head, forcing the lava further down its body. It still squirmed somewhat so Nadir shot the remainder of the lava he had been storing in his mouth at it and kicked it right where the lava landed.
His foot went right through the shadow creature as it dispersed into motes of essence.
'That was a product of necromancy, a shadow automaton whose sole purpose is to hunt and restrain their prey, killing if possible, but stopping them from advancing while their master closes the distance is their true task.'
"In other words, at least one of my pursuers is still alive. And they can use necromancy, so probably the Nephwrack, correct?"
'Indeed. Battling one of those would have been vexing even if you were at full capacity.'
Yet said master had already made his way all the way to the forest, his heavy footfalls like a stampede of elephants as far as nadir's ears were concerned.
Nadir ran once more.
He drew his hatchet, bent his knees and cut off grass stalks and flowers and leaves and whatever else was in his blade's way, scattering the pieces of foliage all around him, stuffing even more in his pockets.
Then a tree came crashing down beside him.
The Nephwrack had caught up with him and the servant of the Neverborn had clearly seen better days.
Half his face was just gone. Left of his nose was nothing but blackened, cracked bone, which just emphasized his original, ghoulish visage on the right. Clad in hauntingly beautiful articulated plate armor he drew a sword, a roman spatha if Nadir's guess was correct, and with a half snarl the Nephwrack charged right at Nadir.
Even wounded as the Nephwrack was, his swordplay was clearly greater than even the most talented and trained mortal swordsman Creation had ever seen, certainly greater than anything Nadir could have done. But that was only when one didn't include the Excellencies that had become part of his very soul when he had given it to the Yozi and their cause.
'That sword is cloaked in a powerful illusion, Peer Nadir. It is not a mortal sword, but a daiklave.'
Gyula's warning had come just in time. Nadir now heard the wind half a meter in front of the sword crying as it got reaped, now he saw the slight shimmer that betrayed the veil covering the sword's true form. If he hadn't, his surprise would have ended with his lifeless body seemingly hanging in midair.
'Peer Nadir, the daiklave, just like the armor, is made from Soulsteel, a material crafted from ores mined from the depths of the underworld and the captured and smelted souls of mortals. While it is unlikely, the Nephwrack may have attuned the sword to such an extent that he might be capable of using its ability to drain your essence straight from your soul.'
Wait, that sword could drain essence from its victims?
'As I said, it is unlikely that a mere specter would spent such a great amount of essence solely to have the option available, but it is not inconceivable.'
Must. Have. That. Sword.
The Nephwrack turned around, slashing and twirling the oversized blade like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Faking a dodge in the Nephwrack's blind spot, Nadir jumped up a tree, soundlessly sprinting across the branches. A familiar and very welcome smell curled its way into Nadir's nostrils and with a smile he jumped down.
A field that seemed to have sprung up in between the dense forest. Fairy circles made of stone and flowers. The smell of life that Nadir only now realized he had missed so much.
He was at the shadowland and the Nephwrack was right behind him.
Four seconds. That was all the time that Nadir had at his disposal before the Nephwrack arrived and he used the time to cut as much grass and other grey greenery in pieces and then turned around and threw it all in the air.
The slight breeze made them dance in the air, holding them aloft when gravity would have otherwise dragged them back down below.
The stage had been set and just as the Nephwrack entered the shadowland, Nadir jumped.
The servant of the Neverborn would never know it, but allowing Nadir to jump sealed his fate. Nadir's victory had already been set in stone.
Nadir jumped and landed on one, insignificant blade of grass. The moment the Nephwrack found him, high in the air, Nadir was gone again.
The Nephwrack couldn't fly and now Nadir could.
The Nephwrack must have been chasing him ever since he had entered the underworld and Nadir's constant success in managing to avoid them or escape from them must have vexed him immensely. It wouldn't surprise the warlock if his death was the only thing on the Nephwrack's mind now.
And that single-mindedness had put him alone, wounded and half-blinded in a forest against a foe that could be anywhere, even right above him.
Even so wounded he was still too strong for Nadir to take him easily. Even as he moved without sound in corners the ghost could not have possibly been paying attention to he had been deflected by the sword. But that didn't matter.
The Nephwrack hadn't noticed that the both of them had been etching closer and closer to the borders of the shadowland. He hadn't noticed the weightless Scourge landing softly on his own outstretched daiklave.
He didn't notice the tincture filled hand brush against the back of his head.
The pain took away what was left of his sight. It robbed him of his skill and wit and he had left was wild, amateurish swings of the sword, which Nadir could have dodged in his sleep.
He punched the Nephwrack once more in the face, letting loose another dose of the spiteful sea tincture in his empty eye socket.
The Nephwrack swung sideways, hoping to catch his opponent in the chest. Nadir ducked and flew forwards, pushing the both of them over the edge, into Creation.
Ghosts that are exposed to the light of Sol Invictus are left immaterial and starved of essence. Nadir brought the glory of Adorjan once more to the surface and headbutted the somehow still material Nephwrack on its head, forcing another dose of tincture down his gullet.
The Nephwrack was blinded, yet he still saw his foe. The ring-shaped caste mark shining on his brow, the green sun flames draped over him like a glorious mantle, the light of the most hated sun illuminating everything else.
Oblivion had called him and taken his name and life so long ago. Now, with a smile, it took everything else that was him.
With the light of the real sun shining once more on him Nadir could feel his clothes and hatchet disintegrate into nothing.
"And once more I'm left naked. Gyula, please tell me this isn't going to be a recurring thing."
'No, Peer Nadir, I do believe that that will not happen again.'
"What a glorious event it is for one of the Green Sun Princes to finally grace Creation with his presence after his no-doubt terribly important pleasure trip through the underworld." Before the naked Nadir stood a massive grey hound demon, its maw and spiky fur showing sparks of green fire.
"I can assure you, Chernobaalim, that there is very little in the underworld that can be considered pleasurable."
"Of course, Green Sun Prince. It is after all a failing of mine that I was unable to locate your exalted self for the past couple of days, despite that you were so close by. The underworld and Creation are just a shadowland away from one another."
"Enough, Chernobaalim. Are you to escort me to Malfeas for my introduction to the Unquestionables or have you come only to vent your petty problems to me?"
"No, Peer. The althing Infernal has assembled and reached the decision that all Princes must convene in what was once known as the country of Japan, now known as the eleventh area of the 'Holy Brittanian Empire'."
Area 11? And Nadir didn't even know where he was. The Chernobaalim, picking up on the unasked question, continued
"We are currently some hundred kilometers north of the Russian city of Volgograd. I have been assured that there is a fellow Green Sun Prince further into the European territory who is willing to ferry you along." Then he glanced at the soulsteel armor and daiklave that were just lying there. "And will you give me the honor of carrying your spoils of war whilst we make our way to your fellow Peer?" The tremendous lack of desire of the demon to play pack horse was unmistakable. Nadir didn't care.
"You can carry the armor. If my fellow exalt shows an interest in having his own set of soulsteel armor he can have it. If he doesn't I can always trade it for some favors, but pay attention to what I say next, Chernobaalim: The. Sword. Is. Mine. And. Nobody. Else. Touches. It."
The demon nodded curtly and with his tail set the armor on his back.
"By the way, you wouldn't happen to have a set of clothes on you, do you?"
With something that couldn't possibly have been a wolfish grin the Chernobaalim strutted off to a lone, abandoned shovel and scarfed it down with abandon.
Then he turned around, somehow making the armor not even rattle slightly, and from his maw spew forth a cloud of black smoke and green fire, which coalesced into a perfectly suitable set of brass and green clothes that seemed to have been tailor made for Nadir. It even included a pair of shoes!
He got dressed in less than a minute and slid the sheath with the heavy sword in his belt. Without a word said the warlock and the demon started walking.
'We may have gotten on a bit of a false start, but now that we have dealt with that distraction it is time to focus on the true task at hand: the Reclamation and the glory of the Yozi.'
You're right Gyula. The underworld was in the end nothing more than a test run.
It was high time for this Scourge to show Malfeas and the Yozi what success and true victory really looked like.
Nadir Yilmaz the Scourge: Prologue End.
False Edit: Did you know that the text of 'Ichor Flux Tendrils' gives limitations on the length of the tendrils and the distance from the infernal from which the tendrils can sprout, but nothing on their girth (this is the only innuendo I'll be making about the charm, otherwise I'll be able to add another thousand words to the post)? So long as there is a big enough source of liquid around this charm just makes the fight scenes in my head so awesome.
And finally, here are some words that I've been dying to say ever since I posted my first omake: @Alexander89 , I hope you have as much fun with this character as I had, because Nadir and Gyula are now all yours to play with. Have fun.
-[X] "Suzaku..." You resist the urge to stare in shock. It takes a great deal of your will to keep up your carefully crafted mask. Your Essence Sight doesn't show him to be someone else magically disguised, so you're pretty damn sure it's him. You don't know how he survived, but you can catch up with him later, but for now you can't reveal anything that might link him to your secret past. "Well, I have to say I'm surprised, Suzaku. I would never have expected to see you here, but it's good to see you again." You say, smiling honestly. You turn to Rivalz. "Rivalz, have you met Suzaku? He helped me out after that idiot driver in the truck accident drove off with me inside."
-[X] Later when you're assured of privacy (the last thing you want is to give your fanclub ideas) give him a hug, let him know you're glad he's alive. The two of you have some catching up to do, and you're sure Nunnally would love to see him again.
Just doing my democratic duty (half a week too late for it to really matter, but so what?)
Hear, hear. Although with me it is that every omake just becomes so much larger than the previous one. For my omakes on this thread 'Scourge is chosen: 1732 words; Second Breath: 2752 words; Roaming the (shadow)lands: 3623 words and End of the road: 8187 words
. To be fair I had said I would be pumping out two more omakes for Nadir and ended up combining the two into one monstrosity, but there you go.End of the Road
"Okay, so I get that the Yozi Kimbery is handing out orders to further the Reclamation on me by giving me assignments such as taking out influential actors on the world stage. Like Cornelia li Brittania, the Goddess of Victory and the Witch of Brittania, who is an Exalt of her own through her bloodline, somehow. And I get that ruining her reputation as invincible and her status as one of the Empire's favorite daughters could be beneficial in disrupting Heaven's plan with controlling the world through their stooges in the Holy Empire of Brittania. But is it really necessary to destroy every one of her subordinates and every piece of infrastructure that belongs to her army?"
An axe in each hand, Nadir leisurely walked towards the lone farm he had spotted earlier. Over the course of the three days that he had mindlessly traversed the desert Gyula had talked extensively about Malfeas, about the Yozi and how important the mission they had given him was. He talked about Cecelyne, the endless desert who imposed the rule of the strong on all demons, he talked about the Ebon Dragon, Bringer of Night and the primary architect of the sundering of the jade Prison and thus also the reclamation as it is known nowadays. He talked extensively on the patron of nadir's caste, Adorjan, the Silent Wind who was once the River of Torment and the Yozi most feared by those who dwell in Malfeas as well as the one Yozi that Nadir had met already, Kimbery.
Even as he had left the dessert for a scarred and hollowed out mountain range the teodozjia filled his mind with species of first circle demons who were created to fill whatever new niche their Second Circle lords had deemed amusing or necessary.
So it shouldn't come as a surprise that the warlock had both grown more used to talking to his new compatriot, who seemed to truly enjoy answering the questions that Nadir asked him. And the questions he asked had clearly become more complex, another aspect of their budding symbiotic relationship that both the Scourge as well as the teodozjia were clearly quite happy about.
'Because those that serve under her would be able to apply her combat strategies and general tactical acumen even after her demise. So long as her subordinates, of which there are quite a few other Dragonblooded, are able to carry on her spirit she would still function as a martyr figure. Only the complete eradication of the entire division would suffice to end her legend and legacy. The same goes for every last weapon and piece of technology that is used under her command. The lesser gods of those objects glut themselves on the prayers directed at Cornelia, with her own consent no less. It is for that reason that the Sea that Marched against the Flame ordained you to wipe it all out, lest those traitorous Terrestrial gods might continue to grow in power and importance. And it hardly needs to be said that that would come back to 'bite you in the ass'.'
"Which would instead leave us with a legion of 'more powerful than the norm' deities whom we would all have to kill on top of killing or subverting all her troops and destroying all the infrastructure. And I don't even have a way of permanently killing gods and spirits yet." Well, if the job was supposed to be easy the Yozi wouldn't have resorted to bringing back those who made the impossible possible.
The sandstorm that was raging somehow felt even less 'real' than the rest of the underworld, as if the sand hitting Nadir's bare skin was somehow a mirage. Just one more breeze amongst thousands.
His experiences with ghosts had not been pleasant in the slightest, but was that reason enough to forego everything else and just attack those farmers without any provocation?
On the one hand, Gyula has been rather explicit on their worth and Malfeas' stance on the denizens of the underworld and the Exalted that the Neverborn would be churning out was not unknown to him either. Then there was the whole 'release from suffering by death' philosophy that Adorjan embodied. On the other the ghosts themselves had done nothing against him, yet.
He was now barely a hundred meters away from the farm and the two ghosts had noticed him. Well, might as well try the diplomatic route.
'As if they would recognize the honor and act in an appropriate manner. Might as well expect Yu-Shan to not be the corrupt cesspit that it has been since the Usurpation.'
Deciding to ignore his coadjutor for the time being, Nadir had caught the attention of the two ghosts and, with some overly grand gestures, laid his two axes on the ground.
"We don't appreciate you living folks 'round these parts."
When had Nadir crossed the Atlantic Ocean to come face to face with the unliving embodiment of the stereotypically racist and intellectually challenged Brittanian farmer? With a blank face Nadir just quietly turned to face the other farmer.
"Please forgive my grandfather, he is like that to everybody he meets." The other was a somewhat androgynous guy, or maybe a very masculine woman. "Very nice of you to put down your weapons before approaching us." Was it just him or did hir eyes flicker down for a moment? "So, what can we do for you?"
Right, best not to waste too much time here. "As you can see I've been robbed three days ago by a band of ruffians who claimed they were working for the First and Forsaken Lion, left without even the clothes on my back or any means of procuring food for the past three days. I hate having to impose on you and rely on your kindness, but is it possible for you to give me some clothes to wear and food to nourish me? I'd be very grateful."
"Typical living moochers, not even mentioning any compensation." Nadir's skill at ignoring the grumblings of the elderly was still magnificent, which of course meant that his eyebrow was not twitching erratically.
'Perish the thought.'
Thank you, Gyula.
"I am afraid my grandfather is right, sir. We cannot just give food to every stranger that comes knocking on our door. We don't even have enough to cover the important festivities as it is." Nadir couldn't help but glance at the field of wheat that looked ready for the scythe. "We really can't help you. Not like it would be smart to go against the First and Forsaken Lion, even in such an indirect manner." Was that how s/he wanted to play this game?
"It is not like those brigands were truly part of the Lion's forces. For what reason would the Lion require one set of substandard clothing when he never seems to take that armor of his off?"
"No, all we have is the food and clothes offered to us by our descendant's offerings. To give those precious grave goods away would be like spitting in their face and reject our role of guiding them during though times." Nadir was about to open his mouth again when he noticed a glint in the eyes of the younger-looking ghost. Was this what Gyula meant about the rigidity and stubbornness of the deceased? While the hunger wasn't too bad yet, it's not like he could waste all that much more time with what was essentially some petty luxuries.
"I see, I apologize for having wasted your time, then." And with that Nadir turned around and walked back the way he came. He could just feel the smirk of the elder oaf and the disapproving glare of the gender-confused one. Yet they turned around and continued their work like he hadn't even talked to them in the first place.
Sighing he bent his knees and picked up the hatchet in his right hand and the poleaxe in his left.
And then buried the latter in the oaf's head two seconds later, cleaving his spectral body in twain. The hatchet flew out of his hand, decapitating the androgynous one who was sporting as blank a stare as possible.
'Hmm.'
Not even paying attention Nadir made his way to the small farm, even if the clothes didn't fit, they would just have to do. As for food, even if they spoke the truth, he could just eat the grain. He might get a stomachache, but what with how unlikely that would be Nadir would just have to like it.
'Hmhmhmhmm.'
Ugh, fine. You were right and I was wrong.
'Now say it out loud, properly.'
"I'm sorry for ever doubting your great wisdom, oh mighty Gyula. I still need your counsel and my puny mind is like a child's sandcastle compared to one of the layers of Malfeas that yours is. I hereby acknowledge your greater intellect, but unless it knows a way for me to get access to a map to the nearest shadowland without having to converse and negotiate with one of the cretins, that is still what I must do. You happy now?"
'Quite happy, Peer Nadir.'
Ugh, he would find a way of transporting objects from the real world to his mind and the first thing he would do was put a laser light in his mindscape and its light would shine right in front of Gyula and it would draw circles and he would be beyond frustrated that he couldn't catch the pretty light. And then Nadir would be victorious.
Now if only Gyula could stop snickering.
xXx
It was a pity that Gyula was not aware of all the minutiae of spectral decorum and haggling methods, because Nadir could have really used a crash course in it right about now.
Tensions had risen quite a bit since he had entered the small settlement. He had first asked a cartographer for directions to the nearest shadowland, but after she had pretended to ignore his questions twice she instead started screaming something about the greenbloods and the barony of forgotten dunes the third time around. Which was then followed up by an entire streets' worth of ghostly pedestrians running into the nearest building, only to then run back out and go in a different building. Three times.
Asking another lead to a pub-wide brawl that mostly involved jumpkicks and cartwheels and the one after that devolved into a discussion/rant on the horrors of traversing the desert on necrotech steeds built primarily out of possums. Possums of all bloody creatures.
Nadir just knew that if he didn't wrap things up quickly the dumb-as-bricks ghosts would band together and try to run him out of the place. And then he would have to kill them and then he would have to listen to Gyula's mocking laughter for even longer. And he has had enough of that for the rest of the day.
There were spots that he hadn't checked yet, small alleys and hidden corners that seemed to house the deviants of the wandering dead, the ones who didn't partake in the sheer stupidity that seemed to have the minds of the others in its firm grip.
He had tucked his hatchet in his waistband and covered it with his shirt and made sure to hold the poleaxe with the bladed end down, the blade itself pointing away from whomever he was talking to. He hoped that that would be enough to calm the ghosts down and assure them of his 'honorable' intentions, but that hadn't exactly worked out for him so far.
Shaking those negative thoughts away Nadir made his way to the streets, the first shady alley he would come across would be the one he would investigate and he would find a sane ghost.
"It's actually quite nearby, sonny." In the blink of an eye Nadir had turned around to face the owner of the voice and was met with a child, couldn't be older than ten.
"Pardon?" When in doubt, be polite. If proven unworthy of such basic niceties Nadir could always get to insulting or attacking them afterwards.
"You haven't exactly been subtle with your inquires, sonny. Shadowlands have only been popping up again for the past four or five years, so it has been something of a touchy subject for those who suddenly found themselves with a portal back to the world of the living in their backyard.
"But yeah, see that volcano over in the distance?" The boy specter pointed at the smoking mountain that Nadir had noticed at his arrival. "The shadowland is about ten kilometers west of it. You'll recognize it by the fairy circles that are spread all over the surface, mostly made from grass and stones but there are other kinds as well. Do make sure that you don't run past it, it is rather small, with a radius of about two hundred meters."
That...that was exactly the information he was looking for. After all the disappointment and ridiculousness it was just thrown in his lap like that.
"Why would you just reveal that information if it is such a sensitive topic?"
"Mostly to get you out of here and back to Creation, so you won't bring even more trouble to this place than you've already done." The kid ghost then turned around to look at the bustling street.
"Do forgive them. A ghost's sense of time is quite different from that of a living mortal, so it will be a couple of decades before they and the rest of the underworld will calm down and accept the way things are."
"You mean something aside from their crazy behavior? Or is that par for the course?"
"The emotions that they held on to with their dying breath has influenced them heavily, so they might not resemble their former living selves all that much. What you should have done was to..."
And just like that Nadir had lost all interest in the affairs of the small village. Without even sparing a thought as to why the underage looking ghost would be so much more composed than his fellow wandering dead or why he would talk about the shadowlands as if he remembered the period from before the Twin Cataclysms, Nadir turned around and walked away.
The unnamed ghost just smiled, the antics of the living was entertainment enough for him. No reason to personally get involved with the shitstorm that was coming.
'Peer Nadir, there is one other thing you should concern yourself with before making plans to leave this realm.'
It was only then that Nadir noticed the new arrivals. Haggard looking, mad glints in each of their eyes, the new arrivals had surrounded him in the blink of an eye. There were over two dozen of them and more were pouring into the streets with every passing second, yet the inhabitants of the town were the ignoring them and were ignored in return.
'Hungry ghosts, the po soul of the deceased left unhindered by the burdens of a greater intellect. When they gather in these numbers and are placid enough that they don't start attacking anyone and anything in sight it could only mean that there is somebody that can keep them in check nearby. Will you be employing your discretion once more, Peer Nadir?'
If he had a good idea of how far away the shadowland was that might have been an option, but out there it was nothing but plains upon plains, not the ideal place to be if you were trying to run away with an army of ghosts nipping at your heels whilst searching for a relatively tiny spot in said wasteland.
'And in return endanger the existence of all the ghosts who live here?' Gyula's question wasn't so much expressing outrage or disappointment, but almost... probing?
Even as more and more hungry ghosts showed up and closed in on him Nadir's posture was still relaxed, nothing about him gave the impression he was worried.
"It's not like they cease to exist if killed, and besides, what about the ghosts? Why should I care about them when I've had all of one neutral reaction from them in a sea of negative ones? Fuck ghosts."
That, and he had a lot of pent up aggression he just had to get rid of and if mindless hordes were presented to him on a silver platter?
The moment he took a single step the ravenous band looked up as one. By the time he had taken the second their guard had been up and by the third they roared as one and charged.
With barely a thought Nadir grabbed the arm of one of the 'innocent' onlookers and threw him at the closest group, only to see him being torn to shreds by ten hands in the time that would have taken a normal man to blink. And then they were upon him.
It was as if they had lost their previous synchronicity, their grabbing hands bumping the others away and ending up in the the open jaws of the others. Nadir didn't hesitate and buried his axehead in the chest of the closest one of them and dug his fingers in the eye socket of the smallest of the five.
His sudden intrusion broke the tangled hungry ghosts apart, one even crashing into a stall. Not letting go of either Nadir kept going forward, trampling all over one of the surprised hungry ghosts, running up the walls of a nearby building. Ignoring the screeching of his two unwilling 'passengers' Nadir jumped of the edge of the roof, vaulting in the air, swinging his poleaxe and letting the gutted, barely moving corpse of a hungry corpse forward.
In midair he landed on top of said corpse and jumped off again. The soles of his feet were bloody and the other hungry ghost was desperately trying, and failing, to get him to let it go, but that didn't diminish his enjoyment in the slightest was he saw the corpse crash on top of the wares of a weapon merchant, the cart creaking loudly under its increased weight.
Just as the other hungry ghost was about to tear into Nadir's arm with its claws Nadir whipped his arm forward, throwing the hungry ghost forward, its squished eyeball thrown away with a careless gesture.
As he landed on top of the ghost Nadir tore its throat apart with a daft application of the poleaxe and at the same time jumped off again. Its body came crashing down like a miniature comet, destroying the town well as it got buried in the underground spring.
As Nadir landed on a rooftop nearly a hundred meters away from the market street he jumped back down to the street level, easily avoiding the attention of any and all ghosts, hungry or otherwise. But as he started making his way down the streets, planning ways to make the mindless beasts and their master fear him as they should fear all of demonkind he noticed something, internally.
"Gyula, is it just me or have my Essence pools been slightly replenished since a couple of days ago? Didn't you say that that wasn't possible in the underworld?"
'What do you mean?' Then it felt like something was ruffling inside of him and Nadir could hear Gyula's murmuring and, was that whistling? After a couple of moments Gyula answered.
'Well, Peer Nadir, you are correct. Your essence pools have been refilled somewhat and, embarrassingly enough, I only now remember the other method that is at your disposal as far as recovering essence is concerned. The Yozi, in their infinite wisdom, made it so that, be it in Creation or its pale reflection, acting in ways that please and amuse them, gets you rewarded, filling your essence pools or reinforcing the strength of your mind and will. Should you grow a bit further in your abilities your patron and the patron of your caste shall bestow new 'options' as it were. The feared Adorjan will bless you with her dreaded winds that shred your foes apart and benevolent Kimbery aids you in healing your wounds. Essentially, doing 'awesome stuff', as the ignorant mortal masses would call it, will be of invaluable worth to your contributions to the cause of the Reclamation.'
"Wait, so is this something exclusive to the chosen of the Yozi? None of the other exalted hosts can do this?" Because if so that would be a massive, possibly crucial, advantage he would have over the chosen of the Incarnae, Neverborn or the Dragonblooded.
'They have access to the same basic 'system', but cannot make use of the Yozi-specific varieties.'
Yeah, he knew that would be too good to be true. Still, this was excellent news.
If they thought he would be easily found and dispatched of, it would only be proper for Nadir to play with his new toys. Too bad they would break.
Let's see if the Yozi give bonus points for interesting and inventive kills.
xXx
The vagaries of the Yozi would forevermore be a mystery to Nadir.
Needless to say, Nadir hadn't managed to replicate his earlier 'success' with the seven or so hungry ghosts that he had stalked and killed.
Gyula had advised him to just table it until he could bring it up with his fellow warlocks.
And it seemed like he had finally hit the jackpot.
There were three of them. The two, rather brawny, hungry ghosts were half a step behind their leader who was most definitely not a hungry ghost.
He was definitely taller than the other two, emaciated, with arms that went all the way down to where his knees were, with claws that looked like they wouldn't be out of place on a gorilla-sized sloth. The manic glint in his eyes wasn't that of a mindless beast, no, this was someone whose intelligence would not be outdone, even by a well-educated human, it's just that the only worthy application he had for said intelligence was to hurt and break whatever else it came across. The leather bandages that covered the entirety of his body were just the final nail in the proverbial coffin.
Nadir had found the ringleader.
'Bah, if the Deathlord only sent a Mortwight to capture and kill a Green Sun Prince, he would have killed himself by tripping into the Mouth of the Void from sheer stupidity. Do not think that this is all he has sent after you, Peer Nadir.'
Duly noted, Gyula.
The trio hadn't noticed him, so when they walked by his position Nadir exited the shadow he had been hiding him and swung his poleaxe sideways. Unlike every other time he had used his trusty axe, this time it didn't rip his target apart. Instead the weapon's blade got stuck in the arm of the howling hungry ghost. The roaring, flailing hungry ghost who was stronger than him by a significant degree. Who had just grabbed the poleaxe with its other hand and slammed him against the wall.
Nadir barely managed to avoid getting squashed like a bug, but that didn't mean that he avoided damage altogether. If his exaltation hadn't made him significantly more capable of tanking damage Nadir was sure his ankle would have been broken as opposed to 'merely' heavily bruised.
It was still painful to put weight on that leg, but at least it could still support his weight. The injured hungry ghost ripped the axe out of its arm as its fellow made a mad dash at Nadir.
For a moment it looked like the hungry ghost was going to bite Nadir's throat off, but at the last second deviated from its path, clamping its arms and legs across Nadir's torso and left leg, which would have pulled him down if he hadn't been using the poleaxe like a walking stick.
Which was just what the Mortwight wanted. With a single shriek of pleasure he leapt forward as well, his massive claws pointing directly at Nadir's chest. The other hungry ghost looked on, cradling his injured arm as if it would help his injuries.
Nadir held no illusions on what his fate would be if he didn't stop those claws from tearing his chest apart. So he did the one thing he could still do. He fell.
As he threw himself on the ground he rotated his torso and hips as much as the clinching ghost allowed, putting it in the way of the reaping claws. The Mortwight didn't slow down and without a shred of doubt or regret pierced the hungry ghost's back with all five oversized claws. Nadir barely had half a second to react between the slackening of the hungry ghost's grip and sharing its fate.
With strength he didn't know he had Nadir threw the crippled hungry ghost off of him and jumped backwards. What would have been a death sentence instead was reduced to five wicked, but shallow wounds across his chest. With a quick motion he pulled his hatchet from his waistband and threw it at the remaining hungry ghost. Maybe it was the shock of being attacked when it had thought itself to be safe, but the ghost didn't even try to dodge or defend itself as the axe planted itself in its chest, but it definitely knew that Death has come knocking once more, going by its trashing and screaming.
That...wasn't good. That screaming would attract everyone in the town to this little alley and the Mortwight was already closing in on him again even as Nadir scrambled back up. Ignoring the painful twitching from his chest and ankle Nadir held his poleaxe in front of him. With how little space there was available in the alley he was at a distinct disadvantage with his large poleaxe and he couldn't afford to have this become a battle of endurance and stamina. His decision made him sent a trickle of essence to the skin of his chest, as a safeguard if nothing else.
The Mortwight ran like a speeding bullet, both hands in front of him. Nadir swung.
He overextended and the poleaxe was ripped in half by the claws of one hand. The other tore into the side of his ribcage. But that was what the precaution was for.
The essence had discolored his skin into an amalgam of colors, bright yellow, fiery red, deep blue and a verdant black. Kimbery's famed poison had been bubbling right beneath his skin, waiting for the fool to touch it with his bare body.
The Mortwight's scream easily eclipsed that of his subordinates as he seemingly tried to scratch his own arm off. As if that would be enough to get rid of the tincture.
Let the wretch suffer, was what his instincts were saying. The poison would just have to be enough for the Mortwight. Flexing his pectorals Nadir closed the wounds, but the pain didn't abate in the slightest.
Grabbing his throwing axe from the still corpse of the hungry ghost Nadir ran, it wasn't as if he needed to look behind him to know that there were over fifty enemies hot on his trail.
He just hoped he would hold out until he reached the shadowland.
xXx
Before, Nadir had run for three days straight at speeds no mortal man could reach under his own power, with only enough time in between to get his eight hours of sleep. And after that he had been barely winded, in fact, it felt more like he had gone on a spring walk rather than the dead run he had forced himself to.
Now he was wheezing, clutching his chest, feeling the wounds there pulsing, like a slight breeze might split them open again. His ankle was burning.
Nadir had run all the way to the volcano and had actually ascended it for quite a bit before he had stopped.
They were gathering at the foot of the mountain. Dozens upon dozens of hungry ghosts were only barely being restrained from running and climbing up the mountain. There were two Mortwights as well, neither showing any signs of being inflicted with any poison, so nadir assumed that his earlier foe had succumbed to his injuries or was otherwise incapacitated.
Not like it mattered. Nadir was going to die on this mountain. His wounds slowed him down too much. Even with the slight headstart he had had on the ghost force, they had caught up to him. Even if he continued running, the hungry ghosts would catch up and tear him apart long before he could reach the shadowland.
The start signal must have been given, because the teeming mass went forward, climbing over rocks like it was the greatest thing in the world. The one in the back, the only one to be seated on some kind of unholy steed looked at his position, as if assured that this time there would be no escaping for his prey. What had he told the Yozi Kimbery those four days ago, which felt like four decades by now? 'I will honor my mother in the only way a son could: by succeeding.' It only took four days for that vow to be shattered to smithereens. What was that about changing the conditions for victory until you have attained it by definition? That didn't just sound uncool, it didn't even make any sense.
Nadir suddenly remembered he hadn't been wearing any shoes for the past couple of days when he felt a small, cool stream trickle against his bare sole. It was lava.
Oh right, the magic that made him impervious to any sort of damage caused by liquids was still a...
'HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA'
Gyula's hysterical, avalanche-like laughter stopped Nadir's train of thought dead in its tracks.
What in Malfeas' name? Do you consider my demise to be that hilarious?
'Hihihahehahe, do forgive me Peer Nadir, it is just that I was reminded of something I heard about nearly a century ago. You see, when Creation was still under the sole dominion of the then-Primordials, they had built into its very fabric the means for them to change it as they pleased, whether it was to isolate an area from the space-time continuum, bringing life back to wastelands the size of your country of birth or so much more. After the insurrection of the gods it was one of their exalted that discovered the means to tap into this power, naming it Sorcery and even later on discovered other, weaker plateaus of power that their lesser brethren and the gods could utilize.'
This is hardly the time for a history lesson, Gyula. Get to the point.
'There was one such lesser 'spell' that had been created as a mockery of sorts to benevolent Kimbery. A spell that imitated one of her most well-known ways of attacking and slaying her foes, yet cast in the element she most despised, to the point that it is part of her sobriquet. The name given to that spell is 'Magma Kraken'.'
The hungry ghosts had cleared the way for the two Mortwights, each and every one of them docile like a lapdog. It was rather odd how so many that had been exposed to the void of Oblivion became such attention starving, scenery chewing drama queens, but time and time again this proved to be the case. Maybe it had something to do with their belief they had to be even more dramatic and over the top than a regular ghost's passions drove them to be.
"Hihi"
The Mortwights now stood at the head of the band, the false sun shining high above them, the volcano all but announcing their glorious victory that they would dedicate to the Neverborn.
"HIHIHIHAHHAHHEHEHAHEHHAHIOHOHHHAHHHAHHAH"
For a brief second the entire war band stood still as the laughter hit them. For a moment the Mortwights thought that Nadir had finally lost his mind, yet at the same time they were intimately aware of that sensation and nothing about Nadir's body language said anything along those lines. It might have meant that they had been played for fools and had walked right into a trap. But the very next thing that happened all but confirmed Nadir's insanity to his insane crowd.
From the ground sprouted two tiny magma tendrils, barely thirty centimeters in length. And all they did was crash and grind into the earth over and over again, not even trying to attack any of Nadir's bloodthirsty foes.
Nadir continued laughing maniacally even as the Mortwights and a couple of hungry ghosts made their way towards him. Even if they had noticed the tendrils retreating back into the ground, they wouldn't have cared. The ghosts stood back some distance as the two Mortwights flanked the kneeling, hunched form of nadir Yilmaz, Infernal Exalted of the Scourge Caste and soon to be plaything of the Deathlord the First and Forsaken Lion.
They each simultaneously raised their clawed hands, like executioners before the condemned. To their surprise and suddenly newfound sense of dreaded fear, the ground rose as well.
The two would never know, but beneath them the magma had coalesced and formed a rather familiar shape and lifted a slab of earth, curiously enough one who had been weakened at the edges by a pair of magma tendrils.
The slab, holding Nadir and the two Mortwights, had been flung into the air by another tendril, its length identical to its smaller cousins, but in size? Like the Yozi herself had found a way out of the Surrender Oaths to lay waste to all who would dare harm her newest child.
The two Mortwights had lost their balance when they had been flung into the air and Nadir, who had replaced his insane laughter for a truly diabolical grin, grabbed them by their ankles and dragged them along as he jumped off of the airborne slab and into the magma, mouth wide open.
He was the only one of the three to enjoy the experience.
The moment he went underground the prodigious tentacle that he had called forth, which had already been leaning over a small cliff, lost cohesion and fell apart, showering the dozen hungry ghosts with a rain of magma. Their screams were nothing compared to the thunderous roar that the slab made when it crashed down again, the avalanche dragging and crushing another score of hungry ghosts.
The survivors hastily turned around, more than willing to abandon their fellow ghosts and their mission if it meant they didn't have to get swallowed up by the river of lava that was closing in on them.
Then the magma kraken made its return, blocking their escape path even as it came crashing down on the ground, crushing it and making even more magma flow.
What little grass and other foliage that had called the mountain home were burned from mere exposure to the massive heat. Entire sections of the volcano wer torn to shreds, dragging itself and anything on it into the molten depths of the imitation of Creation. And not even the leader, the Nephwrack who heard the whispers of the Neverborn better than any other on or near the volcano, was safe from Nadir's wrath.
Even as he tried to escape a tentacle had thrown him and his ghost horse off, into a pool of magma. His soulsteel plate armor protected him from the worst of it, unlike his steed, but even that wasn't enough to safeguard him entirely. His armor, weighing him down, hindered him from reaching the shore. He ignored the splatters of magma burning their way through his head as he, with a herculean effort dragged himself out of the pool. His otherwise already ghoulish face was half ashes and scorch marks, but that didn't matter to him. The tentacles were gone and there was a kilometer long lake of magma leading away from the mountain, to the west.
Even now he could see a tiny blip stumbling away from the volcano. He would avenge this humiliation soon enough, but first he had to take care of this annoyance.
The Nephwrack was surrounded by magma on all sides, yet the only thing he did was draw his unmarred blade from its equally pristine sheath. For a couple of seconds he allowed his fell essence to cloak his blade as his prayer to the Neverborn echoed through the underworld.
Then, with a single slash, he ripped open a portal to the Labyrinth and watched it greedily suck in the superheated earth like the drek it was.
He ran across the cool surface until he was well away from any other lava-related traps and hindrances. He inhaled sharply, gathering even more of his essence in his mouth and when it had reached its peak, he spat out the black ooze and watched it form into a hulking beast of a shadow-wolf, easily more than four meters tall. Then, without a single word, the mighty beasts shrunk, a shadow sticking to the ground, racing off to find his prey and to keep him in place until its master arrived to kill the filthy living scum; its master close behind him.
Behind them, the last pieces of the volcano's western walls came tumbling down, the gaping ravine spilling ever greater quantities of lava in its surroundings. None would come near the place for the next century.
xXx
He was nearing the shadowland.
He was now exactly nine and a half kilometers west of the volcano and was surrounded on all sides by trees. He was slowly making his way forward, looking in all directions to make sure he wouldn't accidentally walk right past his last ticket back into Creation.
He knew he had eliminated quite a number of the ghosts with his little stunt with the volcano, but he hadn't stuck around long enough to see if he had gotten them all. There was always the possibility that the shadowland was crawling with soldiers of the Lion as well, so as long as he could stay ahead of any news that told them of what had happened with the other group, the better his chances of sneaking past them.
'Nadir, suspicious shadow closing in at seven o'clock.'
Nadir immediately saw what Gyula meant. A disturbingly black patch was flitting in between the trees, slithering along vines and crawling in between small cracks that a corporeal being had no business ever being in.
It leapt at him, a lupine maw making up the majority of its head.
Nadir spat lava at it. Then buried his hatchet in its head, forcing the lava further down its body. It still squirmed somewhat so Nadir shot the remainder of the lava he had been storing in his mouth at it and kicked it right where the lava landed.
His foot went right through the shadow creature as it dispersed into motes of essence.
'That was a product of necromancy, a shadow automaton whose sole purpose is to hunt and restrain their prey, killing if possible, but stopping them from advancing while their master closes the distance is their true task.'
"In other words, at least one of my pursuers is still alive. And they can use necromancy, so probably the Nephwrack, correct?"
'Indeed. Battling one of those would have been vexing even if you were at full capacity.'
Yet said master had already made his way all the way to the forest, his heavy footfalls like a stampede of elephants as far as nadir's ears were concerned.
Nadir ran once more.
He drew his hatchet, bent his knees and cut off grass stalks and flowers and leaves and whatever else was in his blade's way, scattering the pieces of foliage all around him, stuffing even more in his pockets.
Then a tree came crashing down beside him.
The Nephwrack had caught up with him and the servant of the Neverborn had clearly seen better days.
Half his face was just gone. Left of his nose was nothing but blackened, cracked bone, which just emphasized his original, ghoulish visage on the right. Clad in hauntingly beautiful articulated plate armor he drew a sword, a roman spatha if Nadir's guess was correct, and with a half snarl the Nephwrack charged right at Nadir.
Even wounded as the Nephwrack was, his swordplay was clearly greater than even the most talented and trained mortal swordsman Creation had ever seen, certainly greater than anything Nadir could have done. But that was only when one didn't include the Excellencies that had become part of his very soul when he had given it to the Yozi and their cause.
'That sword is cloaked in a powerful illusion, Peer Nadir. It is not a mortal sword, but a daiklave.'
Gyula's warning had come just in time. Nadir now heard the wind half a meter in front of the sword crying as it got reaped, now he saw the slight shimmer that betrayed the veil covering the sword's true form. If he hadn't, his surprise would have ended with his lifeless body seemingly hanging in midair.
'Peer Nadir, the daiklave, just like the armor, is made from Soulsteel, a material crafted from ores mined from the depths of the underworld and the captured and smelted souls of mortals. While it is unlikely, the Nephwrack may have attuned the sword to such an extent that he might be capable of using its ability to drain your essence straight from your soul.'
Wait, that sword could drain essence from its victims?
'As I said, it is unlikely that a mere specter would spent such a great amount of essence solely to have the option available, but it is not inconceivable.'
Must. Have. That. Sword.
The Nephwrack turned around, slashing and twirling the oversized blade like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Faking a dodge in the Nephwrack's blind spot, Nadir jumped up a tree, soundlessly sprinting across the branches. A familiar and very welcome smell curled its way into Nadir's nostrils and with a smile he jumped down.
A field that seemed to have sprung up in between the dense forest. Fairy circles made of stone and flowers. The smell of life that Nadir only now realized he had missed so much.
He was at the shadowland and the Nephwrack was right behind him.
Four seconds. That was all the time that Nadir had at his disposal before the Nephwrack arrived and he used the time to cut as much grass and other grey greenery in pieces and then turned around and threw it all in the air.
The slight breeze made them dance in the air, holding them aloft when gravity would have otherwise dragged them back down below.
The stage had been set and just as the Nephwrack entered the shadowland, Nadir jumped.
The servant of the Neverborn would never know it, but allowing Nadir to jump sealed his fate. Nadir's victory had already been set in stone.
Nadir jumped and landed on one, insignificant blade of grass. The moment the Nephwrack found him, high in the air, Nadir was gone again.
The Nephwrack couldn't fly and now Nadir could.
The Nephwrack must have been chasing him ever since he had entered the underworld and Nadir's constant success in managing to avoid them or escape from them must have vexed him immensely. It wouldn't surprise the warlock if his death was the only thing on the Nephwrack's mind now.
And that single-mindedness had put him alone, wounded and half-blinded in a forest against a foe that could be anywhere, even right above him.
Even so wounded he was still too strong for Nadir to take him easily. Even as he moved without sound in corners the ghost could not have possibly been paying attention to he had been deflected by the sword. But that didn't matter.
The Nephwrack hadn't noticed that the both of them had been etching closer and closer to the borders of the shadowland. He hadn't noticed the weightless Scourge landing softly on his own outstretched daiklave.
He didn't notice the tincture filled hand brush against the back of his head.
The pain took away what was left of his sight. It robbed him of his skill and wit and he had left was wild, amateurish swings of the sword, which Nadir could have dodged in his sleep.
He punched the Nephwrack once more in the face, letting loose another dose of the spiteful sea tincture in his empty eye socket.
The Nephwrack swung sideways, hoping to catch his opponent in the chest. Nadir ducked and flew forwards, pushing the both of them over the edge, into Creation.
Ghosts that are exposed to the light of Sol Invictus are left immaterial and starved of essence. Nadir brought the glory of Adorjan once more to the surface and headbutted the somehow still material Nephwrack on its head, forcing another dose of tincture down his gullet.
The Nephwrack was blinded, yet he still saw his foe. The ring-shaped caste mark shining on his brow, the green sun flames draped over him like a glorious mantle, the light of the most hated sun illuminating everything else.
Oblivion had called him and taken his name and life so long ago. Now, with a smile, it took everything else that was him.
With the light of the real sun shining once more on him Nadir could feel his clothes and hatchet disintegrate into nothing.
"And once more I'm left naked. Gyula, please tell me this isn't going to be a recurring thing."
'No, Peer Nadir, I do believe that that will not happen again.'
"What a glorious event it is for one of the Green Sun Princes to finally grace Creation with his presence after his no-doubt terribly important pleasure trip through the underworld." Before the naked Nadir stood a massive grey hound demon, its maw and spiky fur showing sparks of green fire.
"I can assure you, Chernobaalim, that there is very little in the underworld that can be considered pleasurable."
"Of course, Green Sun Prince. It is after all a failing of mine that I was unable to locate your exalted self for the past couple of days, despite that you were so close by. The underworld and Creation are just a shadowland away from one another."
"Enough, Chernobaalim. Are you to escort me to Malfeas for my introduction to the Unquestionables or have you come only to vent your petty problems to me?"
"No, Peer. The althing Infernal has assembled and reached the decision that all Princes must convene in what was once known as the country of Japan, now known as the eleventh area of the 'Holy Brittanian Empire'."
Area 11? And Nadir didn't even know where he was. The Chernobaalim, picking up on the unasked question, continued
"We are currently some hundred kilometers north of the Russian city of Volgograd. I have been assured that there is a fellow Green Sun Prince further into the European territory who is willing to ferry you along." Then he glanced at the soulsteel armor and daiklave that were just lying there. "And will you give me the honor of carrying your spoils of war whilst we make our way to your fellow Peer?" The tremendous lack of desire of the demon to play pack horse was unmistakable. Nadir didn't care.
"You can carry the armor. If my fellow exalt shows an interest in having his own set of soulsteel armor he can have it. If he doesn't I can always trade it for some favors, but pay attention to what I say next, Chernobaalim: The. Sword. Is. Mine. And. Nobody. Else. Touches. It."
The demon nodded curtly and with his tail set the armor on his back.
"By the way, you wouldn't happen to have a set of clothes on you, do you?"
With something that couldn't possibly have been a wolfish grin the Chernobaalim strutted off to a lone, abandoned shovel and scarfed it down with abandon.
Then he turned around, somehow making the armor not even rattle slightly, and from his maw spew forth a cloud of black smoke and green fire, which coalesced into a perfectly suitable set of brass and green clothes that seemed to have been tailor made for Nadir. It even included a pair of shoes!
He got dressed in less than a minute and slid the sheath with the heavy sword in his belt. Without a word said the warlock and the demon started walking.
'We may have gotten on a bit of a false start, but now that we have dealt with that distraction it is time to focus on the true task at hand: the Reclamation and the glory of the Yozi.'
You're right Gyula. The underworld was in the end nothing more than a test run.
It was high time for this Scourge to show Malfeas and the Yozi what success and true victory really looked like.
Nadir Yilmaz the Scourge: Prologue End.
False Edit: Did you know that the text of 'Ichor Flux Tendrils' gives limitations on the length of the tendrils and the distance from the infernal from which the tendrils can sprout, but nothing on their girth (this is the only innuendo I'll be making about the charm, otherwise I'll be able to add another thousand words to the post)? So long as there is a big enough source of liquid around this charm just makes the fight scenes in my head so awesome
.And finally, here are some words that I've been dying to say ever since I posted my first omake: @Alexander89 , I hope you have as much fun with this character as I had, because Nadir and Gyula are now all yours to play with. Have fun.
frozenchicken
Does not have a custom title.
I'd say around Lelouch's age or perhaps a bit younger. Not infants though, as that would just be boring. Estro's idea about basing it on the soul in question seems ideal.
In consideration to their personalities, I'll brainstorm what qualities are likely to prove relevant for each soul.
The Dark Lady:
-Otherness (always being different to those around him, as he is keeping facts about himself hidden), enlightened self-interest (He's not above working with those he dislikes), warped magnanimity (see his use of the Black Knights), semblance of identity (without doubt), lies (Oh yeah), The Nemesis (He really hates Britannia, and it shows that when he lost everything in canon, he aimed for revenge), turns heroes into villains or reveals to a self-styled hero how his actions were actually villainous all along (Yeah, this is Lelouch all over, albeit inverted), subtlety (Yup. Ham excluded of course.)
-Becoming more beautiful in the dark, causing love and infatuation in others, suppressing temperance in others, has obedient Things Which Lurk in Shadows to always provide background music and can use them to manipulate imagery. Other traits become possible with the three unpurchased charms that branch off from this.
Description of Darkness-chan: Definitely female, and very beautiful. Helps others willingly, because she knows it will make others care for her more and sees how that benefits her. She is an expert manipulator, skilled at disguise, lying, commanding those who serve her, and using shadowy illusions to cloak herself. She always has background music. No seriously, that should be a thing. I'd suggest making it hammy, whilst still being subtle in all relevant ways. Soft piano music and wind instruments.
Can feel a cold rage against those who she feels have earned it, and is willing to make a villain of herself if it will lead to the failure of those she cannot tolerate.
She can always manage to make Burning Heart loosen up and play with Muse-chan.
She will be Lelouch's greatest ally when it comes to keeping her siblings in line and in manipulating others. Her illusions and minions might come in handy too.
As a reflection of Lelouch's massive crush on Erembour at the time of her creation, it is possible Darkness-Chan's intimacy may come in the form of a secret and subtle love for him. Alternatively, given this context and the charms she was born from, she may view Erembour and Lelouch as her mother and father. (Note that she may not see them in that order. After all, Erembour provided the 'inspiration' for her creation before departing, and Lelouch then carried her whilst she gestated).
....Pretty nice as far as TED-inspired souls go, but Lelouch seems to mesh with TED in all the right ways.
The Optimistic Muse
- alien and unknowable (see how he hides his true self away), Existing beyond reality he disregards natural order, adhering to older laws and enigmatic principles only he knows. He simultaneously defines and transcends all boundaries, he shatters expectations and ignores conventions (rather well describes Lelouch's personal ethics that deviate from what his culture and laws demand of him), possibility (Nobody can say Lelouch limits himself to what would be considered possible), wisdom (well, this one is arguable. It'll come with age though), defies all odds and finds solutions none thought possible (as I said earlier), delights in the discovery of new and exciting anomalies, the tang of mystery and the texture of uniqueness. (In canon, Lelouch took to Geass like a duck to water, and he's done well with his exaltation here), rebellion (do I even need to say?), seven (this isn't something Lelouch really embodies, but it's ambiguous enough and likely to come up for Muse-chan, so I'll include it), desperate faith, and he hides all doubts (Lelouch doesn't like to let others see him sweat).
-Being inspired by the impossible and the Wyld, making unique things, gaining derangements (but even each of these is unique), creating things and helping others to create, spreading her derangements as she goes, and as an Oramaic soul, she would likely have some odd quirks.
Description of Muse-chan: Probably female, definitely younger and more childish than her sisters. She has the personality of a creative young kid, prone to flights of fancy and whenever she gets creative and wants to play, she always comes up with weird and insane ways of viewing the world. (In keeping with her tendency to spread derangement) she always manages to get others to play along to her weird rules whenever they have fun with her. It is therefore fair to say she is quite charming in her own way, though others might turn down her offer to play if they don't like that particular game. Lelouch can expect a lot of invitations to tea parties that would make Lewis Carrol think twice (interestingly, because of the alternate history and the weirdness of Oramus, I expect Muse to make a lot of Alice in Wonderland references, and Lelouch and the others to not get them). Despite (or perhaps because of) her apparent youth, she is one of Lelouch's most optimistic and relentless souls. She never doubts or shows reservation and she comes up with solutions to any problem (even if they are absurd, weird or unlikely ones). She is the most likely to disobey Lelouch on principle, as she may come up with weird rules and moral precepts that others would be surprised by, or just rebel if she thinks Lelouch is being too pushy. She loves mysteries, odd or new things, and the Wyld. I imagine if summoned, she might prove capable of deliberately infecting others with Refrain-like symptoms as a prank or defence-mechanism.
She also eats ice-cream cones upside-down. Very carefully and with lack of concern for physics, that's how.
She will be Lelouch's greatest asset when he is faced with a problem he does not know how to overcome, or when he wants help thinking things through. Probably even when he doesn't want the help, but needs it anyway. Her intimacy towards him is likely to be attention-seeking.
Darkness-chan likely always indulges her games, except when she feels motivated to do otherwise, in which case she can easily resist Muse's puppy dog eyes. Muse will ask Darkness-chan for music, though her tastes are always weird and varying. Lelouch's Sun-Hearted soul is probably a bit more standoffish, but will likely indulge so long as the game doesn't seem beneath their dignity.
The Burning-Hearted Heir (at this point I'm just going to call them 'Burning Heart-sama')
-arrogant (yup), given to excessive displays (did somebody A LARGE HAAAAAM?), awe (though he doesn't have Malfeas' saidistic traits, he does enjoy being acknowledged for his greatness), seeking vengeance with indiscriminate callousness to the collateral damage he inflicts on the innocent (he's really not THAT bad...relatively speaking. I'm sure he at least felt bad over some of the events in canon), resilient and strong (he's been near-assassinated, disinherited, exiled, betrayed, near-assassinated again, nearly silenced by the military, etc...), authority (Lelouch has never met an organisation he didn't want to boss around), ostentatious (HAHAHAHAA! Yeah, a tad.).
(Traits from Sun-Heart Furnace Soul and other related charms, including potentially Demon Core Meltdown, Forged in Fury, Insignificant Embers Intuition and of course Skyfire-Seizing Repast)- Can judge the power of those around them. Has an overdrive mote pool. Can use willpower to ignite further strength. Can take essence from energy attacks and electrical sources.
Description of The Burning-Hearted Heir: There are two main paradigms I've thought of for them, each reflecting in the heir's gender and appearance. Basically, the Heir would be inspired by either Nunnally and the many mental associations she bears (including all the emotions, self-righteousness and moral principles that come with Lelouch's hidden past), or by Lelouch's own subconscious views of himself as a Prince (including his Britannian traits, his personal opinion of what traits nobles should have, and also Lelouch's traits gained from being a Green Sun Prince, likely including the rage he learnt from Malfeas). In either case, the Heir would be someone with powerful emotions driving them forwards, tempered by their unwavering determination to live up to Lelouch's original childish view of what nobility should be (and depending on the paradigm, altered by Lelouch's somewhat biased view of Nunnally's cheerful and kind nature). Though not amoral, Burning-Heart would likely be noticeably Self-Righteous.
The soul would have boundless energy, enthusiasm and determination, and would alternately display their munificence by sharing their strength with others, or display their authority by stripping energy from the objects around them and taking it.
They have a never-say-die attitude. and would be thoroughly disinclined to ever give up, sometimes gaining literal might from determination to push on.
This soul would be incredibly hammy and ostentatious, though they would likely pick up enough subtlety from the rest of Lelouch's soul that they could bear to not show their magnificence to those who aren't deserving. Would likely use their natural skiil at judging the strength of others (Embers Intuition) to decide this.
Loves to hear Darkness-chan play music, and can be convinced to dance to it. Fond of loud bombastic tunes. Protective of Muse-Chan and willing to heed Darkness-chan.
They would definitely be one to keep Lelouch motivated when things seem bleak. Their intimacy towards him is likely to be admiring and desiring to make him proud.
This soul might also come into being with strong positive intimacies towards Nunnally and Euphemia.
Edit: Ugh, so many edits. Okay, I think I've more or less finished it. Going to bed now. Feel free to suggest actual names for the characters.
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This means hat now Yuno-chan is very, very good at making friends!
Yup! Though that's always going through the filters of "is threat to Yuki?" and "will try to take Yuki away?" - I have a feeling she'll like Lelouch a lot, if only because he keeps all the other women in the vicinity from caring about Yukiteru at all.
I don't find it likely that a Raksha would hang out long enough working at a TV station to get bored with it. Not to mention the Wyld Hunts would be looking for signs of things like Raksha, so him hanging out that long would probably get him caught. Also he is a graduate of Imperial Britannia Central University's Faculty of Law.
Well, I made my suggestion for characters in a PM to you, but if this is to be discussed I'll make them here as well.
First off, I'll say that infants are boring. You can't interact much with them in a way that I'd consider meaningful for a story. They need to at least be children old enough to interact with. As to the particulars...
For the Muse of Unearthly Delights, I think drawing from Lelouch's strategic brilliance (ability to come up with original plans that shatters everyone's expectations) and competitiveness works. The resulting soul will be a bit odd, as befits the themes of Oramus. I think this one should be a child, because Lelouch can be a bit childish when he gets competitive - see his chess game with Schneizel. He totally didn't have to risk getting unmasked there, but he did. He could have taken Schneizel's king when he made an illegal move and gotten Suzaku out of it, but he didn't because his pride wouldn't allow him to win in such a manner. So, my proposed soul for Muse of Unearthly Delights is...
Shirou Expy!
It fits. Brilliant, competitive, and odd. She'd be emotionally immature, and would probably be a bit clingy with Lelouch, wanting to be the favorite child due to being competitive.
For Darkling Grace Complete, I have what I think would be a good look for her. She'd be based on Lelouch's flare for the dramatic, plotting, deceitfulness, and self-indulgence. This is a more adult aspect of Lelouch, so would look more mature.
Dead Master from Black Rock Shooter.
From that I think it's easy to make a personality befitting of both Lelouch and the Ebon Dragon's Excellency. She'd be more emotionally mature, but not beyond the maturity one might expect of a teenager. I would expect her to have a teasing attitude in some ways similar to Milly, even towards Lelouch himself because Lelouch would never hate her for it.
Now, I think all of Lelouch's souls might view him as their father. Lelouch puts a high value on family that acts like family where they actually care about one another (his sister, his mother, Euphemia, and even Sayoko as a recent addition) and his souls should reflect that. They might tease eachother or bicker on occasion but they would all truly care for one another and never get to the point of truly hating eachother. For example the competitive Muse soul would probably insist she's the big sister due to being the oldest (even if only by a few hours or even minutes) and the Grace soul would tease her for being a shorty, but on the other hand Grace would probably dearly love her older sister, play with her quite a bit, and put on shows with awesome shadow puppets or something to entertain her.