Which is arguably the only reason no one else has done it yet. Big rituals have big payout, but fincky restrictions. plus the chance for someone to mess it up.
Project: Gamer Ver. 2 (Young Justice/Gamer/Multicross OC)
- Thread starter Mister Ficser
- Start date
In general it does seem that the assumption is anyone a Vampire bites rather than a virgin bitten under the darkness of a new moon or something to that effect for the transfer of vampirism. If conditions for the spread of the infection are more difficult to achieve than that for zombie plague then it would also reduce the numbers.
Add in a constant low level of infights and tribe building and it would be easy for vampire society to be incredible small and violent not unlike hunter gatherer societies tend to be with regards to other groups of hunter gatherers.
And thus in turn cull their numbers down and keep the old ones from ever getting to old except for the truly exceptional ones.
Add in a constant low level of infights and tribe building and it would be easy for vampire society to be incredible small and violent not unlike hunter gatherer societies tend to be with regards to other groups of hunter gatherers.
And thus in turn cull their numbers down and keep the old ones from ever getting to old except for the truly exceptional ones.
Since Alchemist is gonna be fighting Zeus, if not some of the pantheon, I was wondering if he would go to the God Of War miltiverse.
I mean, with the release of ragnarok game and the fact that Kratos has been wandering the world (at least Egypt). Alchemist could be given a quest to meet him.
Just an interesting thought though. Maybe he could meet Atreus after ragnarok has passed.
I mean, with the release of ragnarok game and the fact that Kratos has been wandering the world (at least Egypt). Alchemist could be given a quest to meet him.
Just an interesting thought though. Maybe he could meet Atreus after ragnarok has passed.
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Okay. Okay. Okay. Let me see if I have this correct.
The "heal" goes up and down vampiric sire lines. But does it impact the original human lines? So a vampire who was turned gets hit by the heal and is (let's say) only 3 generations removed from Mr Nazi Vampire Man (MNVM) and that vampire has human relatives so those relatives get hit with the heal and the heal continues along those genetic lines? Is that what this is saying?
In which case, are there dead bodies getting hit with a useless heal (can't heal the dead), but using that dead body to go back down generations left within the total 9 generation limit? So then anyone who shared (roughly) a great-great-grandparent with MNVM would get healed. And so on.
Bingo. That's why those people in the old folks home are rioting- They no longer have dementia and want real food!
Giovanni got hit by Heal, so did Zatarra. But he also mentioned his great-grandmother who'd been bedridden for years suddenly getting up and cooking herself breakfast after getting hit.
Getting turned into a vampire might make you a dead-end on the human family tree but your parents still exist and you're still related to them. Any kids you have are going to be folks you turned to vampires yourself.
Lycanthromancer
The Arcane Fuzz
- Location
- USA
They might also have human children prior to having been turned.
Ralyx
Seeking Balance
- Location
- The Realm Between
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Worse, Alec is a Gamer who, for a moment, got tired of playing everyone else's game.
Lycanthromancer
The Arcane Fuzz
- Location
- USA
What would the anti-vamp quest have been if Al had accepted it? And what would Al have gotten as a reward for killing a very large (but so far unstated) number of undead abominations, likely blowing past all expectations that Gaia and her contemporaries had? Will we get her (and their) reactions to that? I imagine they're both amused and annoyed in equal measure, given how well he's working as a playtester, but also with much work they have to do on his behalf.
And just how many did he kill, anyway? Will we ever get that answer? Clearly, it was well over 65k, since the system basically blue-screened and returned an error, but it's unknown just how many got dusted, as yet.
And just how many did he kill, anyway? Will we ever get that answer? Clearly, it was well over 65k, since the system basically blue-screened and returned an error, but it's unknown just how many got dusted, as yet.
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He killed a plethora of vampires. Literally. The system stopped counting, and we can never know, because even if you had tried to do a census on the vampires before and after, it's notoriously hard to convince the undead to fill out government forms, and when you do they keep checking off the "living human" box instead of the "vampire" one.
- Location
- Earth, 3rd rock from the Sun
Poor, ignored House of Secrets.
Alex needs to stop bullying it.
I assume the same way the CSI/coroner folks on TV can look at a corpse and just say "this wound is pre-mortem"/"this wound is anti-mortem"
That there are visual clues about how the wound bruises, bleeds, and the like.
And vivisection is cutting into a person pre-mortem instead of ante-mortem, and would be just as easily differentiated.
- Location
- Earth, 3rd rock from the Sun
I don't think it is 9 up and 9 down, just 9 degrees of connection.
8 up and then their children = 9
7 up + their children and grandchildren = 9
Likewise (for humans), down to children, and then going up 8 generations = 9.
Or doing a see-saw. Child - both parents (to target spouses) - both parents parents and children - etc.
Basically, anything (everything) reachable with 9 connecting links or less on both the supernatural and mortal family trees.
Um, soul and the afterlife. Existence continues.
Targets don't stop being valid links in the chain just because they are dead.
I think it could go up to a dead grandfather and then down to all their children to target living uncles and aunts.
The Heal not doing much to the grandfather (Because Heal doesn't cure Dead), but if Al had used True Resurrection as the base spell, the dead grandpa would have stopped being dead.
- Location
- Earth, 3rd rock from the Sun
The problem with this seems to be it ignores that every new vampire is another new mouth that needs to feed.
That in setting vampire clans do not have family trees that look like that, because they would either run out of food, or become unable to hide evidence of their existence and become public knowledge, or get other vampire factions warring on them for getting greedy and spooling a good thing.
It seems to me this says they can rapid expand to the limit the local food supply can sustain, but that is it.
But that doesn't mean a new vampire would be made by whoever new vampire is available, because vampires used to be humans, and humans are rarely that egalitarian. I think you should look at it as getting knighted, and who has the qualifications to create new knights.
As in, once any knight was allowed to make another a newly minted knight.
And as knights became less warriors and more of a privileged social class, the folks at the top got together and said "We can't have that. This situation is diluting the exclusivity of the knight brand."
And we ended up with only a few high nobles allowed the privilege, alongside some knight orders where the privilege was vested in the head knight-commander of the order.
I just don't see vampires as a society being fine with whoever feels like it making new vampires. Because people in power like being in power. A vampire inducted by a local leader is a vampire that leader has the opportunity to influence.
I'd say a better rulestick for how often the 'generation' count increases is not how often a vampire can make another, but how often a leadership position changes hands.
- Location
- Whadjuk Noongar boodja
Isn't it sad that this is both the most flattering and the most human that I've ever seen/read Giovanni portrayed? He comes across as a stereotypical overbearing, inflexible and distant/clueless Dad in his TV YJ appearances, and I can't recall seeing him anywhere else right now. Plus it's great to see that someone (other than tall, dark and brooding) noticing and acknowledging how terrifyingly powerful and NOT HUMAN Nabu actually is, and that with the wrong circumstances the League could all too easily have to face-off with him.
And again with the 100% nailing of the actual deeper character and motivations of major DC players, no matter how anyone else portrays them. Have you heard The Ballad of Barry Allen by Jim's Big Ego? If not, I highly recommend it to anyone looking for some all too rare insight into his motivations. Plus I also really like the song.
I almost don't want to see Darkseid or any of the New Gods (other than Scott Free and Barda) show up, because every single time I see stoneface he's only got fractionally more dimensions than Lobo. Who has one unfunny joke, told over&over&over again as the entirety of his personality. (Although the YJ comic Slobo was actually interesting for as long as he lasted.)
Oh, GOOD! Looking forward to this, and I'm sure you'll do a better job of the Roys Harper dealing with their trauma, both shared and not-shared.
Clearly Al has had a run in or three with the worse end of the bell-curve in psychology and/or psychiatry in his previous life, and still holds the grudge(s).
This, plus it's definitely the best possible outcome for the rest of the DC Universe. Given his over-achieving monstrosity, it's rather a shame that Han's extirpation was as quick and painless as it was. But at least Al made sure Hans became the only good nazi: A very dead one.
Eris:😈"So much CHAOS~!!!"
Klarion: (pouts in jealousy)
Klarion is Really Not Appreciating being utterly outclassed by someone that wasn't even trying.
Months? Ha! Even the most reckless of them will be hiding and in torpor for at least decades, and the really clever ones will be literally out of sight for a couple of centuries, I'd wager.
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Chapter 234 -Valkyrie Profile-
Project: Gamer Ver. 2 Alpha Build 2.3.4
Disclaimer Me Do: I own nothing you recognize. And most of what you don't recognize, I still don't own.
_________________________________________________________________________
Arriving into a strange place, Gael almost stumbled at the sudden feeling of danger that hung in the air like a pall.
"What is this place?" the ancient warrior asked, looking about himself in confusion as one hand inched its way to his old, rusted blade. "This feeling- I swear I know it!"
He and the mage-knight had arrived in a forested region, the boughs overhead dense enough to nearly blot out the sun.
"The realm of Midgard," the younger man began to explain as he, too, took in their environment. "The mortal realm, nearly the bottom-most of the seven realms, making up the 'base' of Yggdrasil. Only Helheim, the realm of the dead, sits below it making up what might be considered the roots of the world tree. Unfortunately, what you're feeling is probably the approach of Ragnarok, the end of this world."
Gael closed his eyes and breathed, soaking in the feeling of this world. The air was full of magic but it was twisted, torn out of balance. Darkness grew and the dead called, he could feel it deep in his bones.
He turned his gaze down as Alchemist extracted a small, round device from his pocket. It was a simple little thing, a paper thin diamond-shaped piece of material that spun in a little circle of glass. The wizard watched it for a moment, turning his entire body until it matched with the red portion of the device.
"We have a relatively tight time limit," the wizard continued as he took in his surroundings once more. "We're after a small handful of treasures, just three-"
The mage cut himself off as his eyes locked on the weathered grip of Gael's well-worn greatsword.
"...Four. Four locations."
Gael reached up and grabbed the hilt of his sword.
It was a good sword. A perfectly fine sword. It had served him well throughout the countless years he'd used it!
Alchemist had no idea what he was talking about...
"...Very well," Gael said, considering what may be the cause of whatever haste the mage desired. "Where shall we go first?"
"A place called the Solde Catacombs, along the northern coast." Alchemist pocketed his strange little device and turned towards the ancient undead. "We'll need to fly if we want to beat the Valkyrie there."
"...If man were meant to fly, Manus would have given us wings!" Gael could feel his face scrunching up in distaste. He had flown before, yes... But never of his own volition!
"That sounds like quitter talk," Alchemist told him before, in a ripple of light, he was armored in a suit of fine, black plate mail. "Come on, let's go-"
And then that black plate armor morphed and changed, elongating greatly into a great but wickedly thin beast. A pair of wings sprouted from its back, blacker than the armor and speckled with small motes of light.
"No..." Gael moaned, his hands itching to grab at his blade and fend off the beast that Alchemist had become. "Not again!"
But he hadn't a chance before the great creature wrapped both of its claws around Gael's form and launched the both of them into the air, a blue aura surrounding them both as the freshly revealed Dragon took off at speed!
Watching the ground swiftly pass by underneath of them, Gael wondered if he would survive a fall from the lofty heights Alchemist swiftly reached...
And then cursed his undead constitution, knowing that he would be restored even if he did not survive the fall.
-----
A tall woman with long, platinum hair that cascaded down her back beneath the sallet she wore frowned in confusion as she slowly walked through the desecrated halls of the catacombs she'd been directed to. Old, dry bones crunched under foot as she descended mountains made of the nameless deceased. Dust hung thick in the air, choking out what little light found its way into the depths.
She could feel the taint of undeath clinging to the walls, see the lingering spirits dancing about the shadows-
And yet they did not attack. No, in truth they could not do so!
The lesser vampires that once stalked the halls had been cut down, their black blood sprayed across the walls, pooling in thick, dark clumps upon the ground. The dragon servants that defended the master of this place had been run through- Some had even been slain by their own swords!
And the master... black skin and crimson eyes told the Valkyrie quite clearly that she was not alone in searching out the treasures of Midgard for the grand battles to come.
"...Who could have done this?" the woman asked, seemingly to herself as she took in the devastation about the room. Great furrows had been carved through the stones making up the room. Pieces of rock had exploded or else melted, the woman could not be certain as to which.
Looking up, she even found a great, hairy beast had been stuck to the ceiling somehow, its slackened jaw and empty gaze quite telling of its state.
"Someone beat us here," a voice chimed in from the Valkyrie's side as a great bear of a man materialized. Arngrim, a swordsman that boasted a rare skill in long blades during his life and the first of the souls the Valkyrie had claimed as her Einherjar. "And beat whatever had taken over the place."
"The dökkálfar," the Valkyrie explained shortly. "Whoever came here, they slaughtered the drow and their minions."
The woman's eyes slid down from the corpse impaled upon the far wall and over to the chests they had once claimed. Crouching down, the Aesir opened the first and found a crown.
"Well that's odd," a young girl's voice called out as a child manifested at the Valkyrie's elbow. Jelanda, a young princess claimed by the machinations of court. The girl had been fed a potion that allowed a demon to manifest through her flesh, leaving her trapped within the beast as it rampaged and killed her own soldiers. "Why would someone just leave these treasures here?"
"Well, if they want us to have them, I certainly won't complain!" a third voice crowed as the Valkyrie's third Einherjar manifested behind her. A young man in a dark, earthy outfit with a bow held in hand, Llewelyn was useful but the man lacked in potential.
Opening the second chest, the Valkyrie found an Emerald Necklace sitting in place. Clearly disturbed and yet there was no trap within the chest...
"Keep your wits about you," the Aesir scolded as she moved on to the third. "We know not what machinations our predecessors had in coming here. No mere mortal could have handled the dark elves here."
Opening the third chest, the Valkyrie was met with nothing greater than a sheet of paper. A frown marred her round face as she lifted up the white, gleaming sheet-
'Lenneth
A soul still sealed will find no victory in the battles ahead.
Hugs and kisses, A'
Pain tore through the Valkyrie upon reading the last word, streaming clearly up from the hand upon which she wore the Ring of the Nibelung!
The woman frantically tore off her glove and nearly twisted her finger off in her haste to remove the ring, the divine artifact clinking innocently when it landed on the battle-scarred stones at her feet.
"Ominous," her final Einherjar commented as he formed in front of her, already crouched down to examine the ring she'd been forced to remove. Belenus carefully lifted the artifact between two fingers as he held it up before her.
The man had been a widower in life, learning to empathize with the slaves of his homeland. Perhaps he'd even loved the one he kept.
Perhaps he'd just been lonely.
It mattered little when the undead had claimed his life.
"Dangerous," Lenneth hissed as the ring burned against her divine flesh. She did not know if it had been cursed, somehow... Or if she had been. Both were well beyond the reach of mere mortals!
Placing the ring into one of her pouches, Lenneth swore- Whoever this 'A' was?
Their impertinence would not go unanswered!
-----
Alchemist followed along sedately as Gael tore through the monsters that had formed in the Citadel of Flame, an artificial structure that had been dug out underneath of the volcano, Surtr.
Truthfully, he barely had to interfere beyond purchasing a Crimson Ring for the man. It actively healed the old monster with every flame that tried to kill him.
He'd intended for this to be the third dungeon they would visit but he had to change their itinerary when he could literally hear Gael's blade creaking and groaning.
Alchemist hadn't even known that titanite could rust. Or, equally possible, the blade had been corroded by other means. Possibly even by the same corruption that had slowly swallowed Gael's mind throughout the years?
Regardless, it had actually proven beyond Alchemist's ability to restore. The very identity of the old blade had been twisted and warped beyond recovery, rendering the magics that Alchemist tried entirely useless.
"Let's take a moment to rest," Alchemist suggested once Gael had his fill of smashing his rusted sword through the form of a fire elemental.
The wizard hooked his fingers through his freshly made belt as he waited for Gael to make up his mind. It was an intermediary step towards Alchemist's ultimate goal, filling it with the potent factors that existed within the world of Valkyrie Profile. Already he'd placed a number of pieces into it-
-- Belt of Ashen Growth --
-- Experience +1,540%, GP +860%, Mana +300%, Weapon Mastery +1,900%, Gain +1 Perk Point when leveling up --
-including the factors from his ring. He couldn't benefit from multiple copies of the same enchantment, which was unfortunate, but it felt good to simplify things.
The Emerald Necklace was one of the artifacts Alchemist had been after. In the game, it offered whichever character was equipped with it a bonus of one-hundred points to assign towards skills or special attributes. His system translated it directly into perk points.
It had been the first of the four artifacts Alchemist sought. The others would each offer their own, incredibly powerful bonuses... More than enough, Alchemist was sure, to get Gaia to seal off the entire realm from her Gamers who managed to work their way into a jump chain.
"We were in a hurry, were we not?" Gael asked, wiping soot and ash off of his tattered red cloak. "Should we not press onward?"
"Our competition is a bit preoccupied playing with her new friends," Alchemist told the old undead as another Alchemist watched Lenneth from a distance. The shattered soul, under the orders of the one that sundered her, had been busy collecting the lingering souls of the dead to draft into the Aesir's army. "We can take a break long enough to eat."
"...I do not recall when last I ate," Gael mumbled as he placed his rusted, broken sword on his back. "What fare have you to share? Hardtack and water?"
Alchemist, unfortunately, could vividly recall when Gael last ate. And what the man ate.
The dried, black blood of the Pygmy Lords of the Ringed City, gnawed from their withered veins so Gael could reassemble the Dark Soul within himself.
"...A peanut butter sandwich and water," Alchemist told the old man after he got his stomach back under control. He had a lot of other options, prepared meals, MREs, random snacks...
But sometimes? Alchemist just wanted a sandwich.
Accepting the offered food, Gael sat himself down on the steps next to the wizard. There was a moment of silence as the two ate their food before Gael held the sandwich down between his knees, his head tilted down to look at it.
"For what reason did you bring me here, Alchemist?" Gael asked, his sooty sandwich pointed at the mage. "Why did you not bring along your cohort?"
"...Sometimes? I just need a break from people," Alchemist admitted, flopping his sandwich up and down as he spoke. "I love 'em to bits and I trust them with my life but I'm having a hard time relaxing while I'm trying to keep up with three girls."
Alchemist took a bite of his sandwich and chewed, thinking about what he needed to tell Gael so it didn't sound like he pitied the man. Swallowing and drinking a mouthful of water, Alchemist decided on what to say.
"As for you? I figured I should make sure you still knew how to fight." Which wasn't a nice thing to say, at all. But at least it didn't stink of pity.
"Hah!" Gael snorted, almost laughing. "Arrogant whelp, aren't you?"
"Prove me wrong and we'll see, won't we?" Alchemist asked before he crammed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and stood up, grabbing at his black spear.
The difference the weapon mastery factor made was like night and day. Alchemist was still no master, incredibly far from it, but he could clearly see the difference between when he'd started and where he was. His footing had improved immensely and his timing was getting tighter and tighter with every foe he faced!
Together, the two pressed further through the Citadel. They crushed their foes with practiced ease, silencing the mages they faced and dispersing the living flames that futilely sought to burn them.
The final foe they faced?
An even larger fire elemental. Its inability to cause the duo any harm led to its swift demise.
~~ Enemy Defeated: Fire Elemental (L) ~~
~~ Experience + 544,000 ~~
~~ GP + 309,600 ~~
~~ Obtained Items: Bracelet of Zoe x4~~
And it dropped one of the items that Alchemist was actually after. Taking two of them out of the inventory and a fresh belt, Alchemist fused them into it together with his Ashen Belt.
-- Belt of Ashen Growth R1 --
-- Experience +1,540%, GP +860%, Mana +300%, Weapon Mastery +1,900%, Gain +1 Perk Point when leveling up, HP +600 when leveling up --
Alchemist tightened the belt around his waist as he looked to the chests the boss had left behind. Kicking one open as Gael cautiously opened the other two from their sides, Alchemist was met with a sword that was coated, from tip to hilt, in flames.
~~ Infernas: Attack Power - 250, OHKO enemies weak to fire. Does fire damage to wielder = 3% HP! ~~
Lifting the firebrand as Gael examined the contents of the other two chests, Alchemist dug through his inventory for one specific weapon-
~~ Uber Falcon Blade: Attack Power - 55, attacks strike twice when they connect! ~~
and fused the two together.
~~ Infernas: Attack Power - 250, OHKO enemies weak to fire. Does fire damage to wielder = 3% HP! Attacks strike twice when they connect! ~~
"Here you go, Gael," Alchemist said as he handed over the now-improved weapon. Luckily enough, he'd gotten a base Infernas refunded even as Alchemic Bounty activated and he got several copies of the modified blade. "Go nuts."
Dropping the original sword back into the treasure chest, Alchemist looked to the other two and thought on what to do. He'd already used Wish to create a kind of curse that would latch on to and infect an item, targeted towards the Valkyrie's ring. That would help wear away at the seal Odin had placed on her soul...
So, what else could he do to irritate and annoy the woman? What else could he do that would encourage the woman to think for herself?
Alchemist ran his thumb over the Materia in his bracer as he tried to think of something... and then looked down at the Materia, realizing he'd forgotten to do something.
Inhaling slowly and silently calling himself an idiot, Alchemist extracted the Jump Materia that had been mastered a long time back.
He'd been intending to eat that and see what would happen to the vocation system, see what would happen if he consumed an ability he'd gotten through other means.
"How terribly strange..." Gael muttered as he held the burning greatsword in his hands, shaking the blasted thing up and down in a bid to extinguish its eternal fire. "I feel invigorated simply by holding it!"
That... gave Alchemist an idea.
But he needed to finish what he was already thinking before he got distracted and forgot it. Again.
Removing his helmet, Alchemist choked down the Jump Materia-
~~ DANGER! ~~
~~ Mako Toxicity! ~~
~~ Level: 1! ~~
~~ Poisoning! ~~
~~ Minor! ~~
~~ -5 HP/Minute! ~~
~~ Ability Acquired! ~~
~~ Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju- ~~
~~ Error! Ability "Jump" is attempting to overwrite the ability "Jump". Ability "Jump" priority exceeds 255. Ability-Ability-Ability- ~~
~~ Notice: vocation.ext has suffered a fatal error and crashed. A defect ticket has been issued. If you experience further issues, please contact your local administrator! ~~
"...Huh," Alchemist said as a series of System windows cascaded in front of him. He spent several minutes manually closing them, taking note that they were filled with random symbols and numbers that he couldn't really make any sense of.
Opening a fresh window, Alchemist checked his status and his perks. The vocation tabs had all been replaced with a single "-" sign which did nothing when he pressed it.
Still... he didn't feel any different.
But the 'Jump' ability had been moved to his abilities menu, as had Steal and Mug, abilities he'd already consumed before the vocation system had been implemented in the first place.
Alchemist shook his head and shoved that aside. It wasn't as though he really used the Vocation system to begin with. Its loss wasn't really a big deal.
Besides, he still had a few things that needed doing!
Kicking closed the chest containing the Infernas, then doing the same to a chest that had a vial of water, Alchemist picked a decently sized oil lamp out of the third. A flame burned inside, it had since the artifact's creation and it would likely continue to do so until the lamp itself was destroyed.
It was literally called the 'Eternal Lamp' after all.
Stowing it in his inventory, Alchemist opened the shop and began typing. He had an idea.
A terrible, awful, wonderful idea!
-----
Alchemist, alone and invisible, crept through the cold stone halls of a tower that stood next to a city called Flenceburg, a place that focused heavily on the study of magic.
His current goal required stealth rather than combat. Gael was talented in one, certainly, but most definitely not the other. Instead the old undead had been left in Alchemist's demi-plane.
The mage watched in silence as the skeletal remains of a tall lizard-man creature shambled by him, a pair of daggers clutched in its claws. They scratched and screeched loudly as the pitted, dull metal scraped against the ground.
The Tower of Lezard Valeth, a brilliant alchemist, a talented necromancer, a man posessed by obsession and... Quite frankly, Alchemist considered the man to be a brilliant idiot.
Still, Lezard -was- brilliant. The mage had succeeded in crafting a Philosopher's Stone, a tool he'd used to take his arts to heights that even Alchemist hadn't been able, or willing, to reach.
Alchemist pushed forward, carefully avoiding the beasts Lezard had crafted to guard his tower. Pitiful creatures, fueled by rage and magic. Ugly, twisted chimeras formed of wild beasts and dominated by sorcery, their souls bound to Lezard's will.
Checking one room, Alchemist saw an unpleasantly familiar sight. Naked women floated in tanks of alchemically neutral fluid, the contents isolated from the influences of time or decay. Each one had been sculpted into the same shape. Each had a soft, round face and long, platinum-silver hair. If any had their eyes open, Alchemist would bet strongly on them being a dark, brilliant blue.
Lezard's fixation.
Lenneth Valkyrie.
Alchemist carefully walked through the room, each step taken slowly to avoid disturbing any of the tubes or wires that criss-crossed the floor haphazardly. One in particular stood out, the homonculus inside was arrested, still in the form of a child.
It still had room to grow. Physically and, more importantly, spiritually.
Still, it wasn't what Alchemist was searching for. He was after two things, a book and a rock.
A very special book and rock.
Silently closing the door behind him as he pressed onwards, Alchemist did his best to parse the numerous sigils and glyphs that were painted along the walls.
Runes. Some he could make out. 'Space', 'displacement', 'time', 'other' and 'outside'. Others were more esoteric, a full idea that had been condensed into a single symbol. If the wizard had more time, he'd have been glad to take pictures of everything.
Instead he hurried forth.
Eventually he found a library. In that library, he found a pedestal. On that pedestal, chained shut, was the book he was after.
The Secret of Everlasting Life.
He could see the trap the book was sitting atop of. It wasn't anything terribly complicated. Just a depressed lever that would activate if the weight on top were removed. Pressing a finger against the pedestal, the mechanism within was jammed together and locked in place by Transmutation, leaving Alchemist free to collect the book unmolested.
He left something special in its place.
Sallying forth, Alchemist still had one more object to collect. That one, however, required he climb higher up the tower. Normally something that would be quite difficult if one didn't wish to activate the various elevators, alerting the master of the tower to the intruders within.
Stepping into the open elevator shaft, Alchemist had other options.
Looking up, he could clearly make out the ledge of the next landing. Crouching down, he Jumped with incredible force!
And still only just barely made it, latching on to the ledge with his fingertips, Alchemist scrambled to pull himself up-
"Then keep searching!" a nasally voice shrieked from an open door down the hall that Alchemist found himself in. "I know the man is somewhere in the city! Find him! Find him and bring him here!"
A short, squat man with a staff taller than himself dashed out of the room the shouting had come from. One of the numerous wizards under Lezard's command.
The greedy little fool ran towards the elevator, missing Alchemist who'd hidden himself just inside of a suspiciously empty room.
No, that wasn't quite right.
There was one thing in the room. On the floor was a crimson circle, inscribed with the runes that roughly meant 'Go' 'Door' 'Open' 'Travel'.
That... might have been what Alchemist had been searching for, actually.
Stepping into the circle, Alchemist fed it a trickle of magic-
And found himself in another room. A trio of treasure chests directly, enticingly in front of him.
"Yeah..." Alchemist said as he shook his head and held his hand out. "That's not suspicious. At all."
He cast Knock three times, opening each chest from where he stood. And as each chest opened, they released a cloud of freezing gas.
Of the three items that Alchemist found, the Creation Gem, the Ether Scepter and the Timer Ring, he only needed one. Replacing the other two, Alchemist held up the gem he'd collected, the gem he'd been searching for.
It was a dull, misshapen red stone. Cut unevenly, it was unpolished and overall did not seem especially impressive. And yet?
And yet, it would be the key to unlocking much of Lenneth's potential.
Alchemist fused the stone into a simple, unadorned band-
~~ Imperfect Ring of Creation x7 ~~
~~ Transmutation costs -50% MP. Ignore the first 1000 GP of material components a spell calls for to a minimum of 0 ~~
and got something incredibly impressive, given that the gem itself could still be refined to another level of strength.
Taking two of the rings out of his inventory, Alchemist expended a significant amount of Alkahest to revert them both into Creation Gems.
One, he placed back in the treasure chest.
The other, he stowed away in the inventory.
Turning to leave, a grin on his face, Alchemist wondered who would be the first to find the little gifts he'd left lying around.
-----
Freya, goddess of life and death, the right hand of Odin, felt a frown mar her peerless visage as she looked down to the Valkyrie's current expression.
Lenneth was a beloved Aesir, an indispensable tool... But she was no Hrist.
Still, it was a far cry better than when Silmeria had been in residence. Lenneth was foolish and pliant but her gifts of the present were well suited to her tasks of finding Einherjar and Artifacts.
"The heroes you've sent to Asgard are without peer, talented in battle and more than well suited to the tasks we need of them," Freya told the Valkyrie as they hovered high above Midgard. "However it seems you are lacking in sending onward the Artifacts we've sent you to retrieve. Some we understand, they are well-suited to aiding you in your efforts in Midgard."
Freya crossed her arms, her long blond hair whipping in the winds.
"Some can do nothing to aid you, proving naught but dangerous if left in the mortal realm," she continued through the Valkyrie's silence. "Explain yourself, Lenneth. Our patience grows thin."
"...I am beleaguered by an unseen foe," the shattered soul began to explain, each word ripped from her mouth like a tooth. "One who seems to delight in passing me, in leaving behind taunts in place of the secrets I am sent to retrieve!"
Freya frowned in consideration as the Valkyrie reached into her satchel and rummaged about for a moment before coming back up with a particularly thin book. Scrawled across the front was a title and author-
'The Secret of Everlasting Life by Amanda Hugginkiss'
Accepting the book, Freya flipped it open and found but a few words.
'Don't Die!'
'Hugs and kisses, A'
Snapping the book shut with a sniff, Freya was met with a series of sheets of paper held out by the Valkyrie. Ripping them from the hands of the maiden, Freya was met with more of the same.
'I.O.U. one fairy. Link stole my bottle.'
'I killed the kraken and my payment was one lousy coin?'
Those and more, all signed with 'Hugs and kisses, A'.
"Worse still," Lenneth continued as she reached into her satchel once more. She retrieved an oblong tube made of some strange, transparent material. Within it, Freya could see coils of copper wire, strange lenses and a pellet of some kind of black material within the core. "Whoever this is, 'A' or 'Amanda Hugginkiss', they have tampered with some of the Artifacts. This was found in place of the Eternal Lantern-"
Lenneth shook the tube, causing the black pellet to rattle back and forth within the channel inside the core of the tube. After perhaps fifteen seconds wasted under the increasingly critical gaze of Freya, Lenneth aimed the lens of the tube towards Freya's face and slid her finger over a black, glossy switch.
A beam of light, brighter than a torch and far more focused, struck Freya in the face and blinded her.
"Gah!" Freya exclaimed, rubbing a hand over her eyes before blinking away the green spot that now filled her vision! "What sorcery is this?!"
"...I know not," Lenneth admitted as she stored the item away. "It grows dim after a short while but the light it produces can be refreshed with a few moments of effort. It has proven surprisingly helpful."
"...Ragnarok approaches and some fool thinks to toy with us?" Freya asked, turning her gaze to look at the Valkyrie that hovered beneath her. "This is unacceptable!"
"I have yet to see this person in the act," Lenneth admitted, her expression thunderous. "But the Vampire King, Brahms, he said that they were working to their own ends."
"Did the deserter have anything truly valuable to offer?" Freya was fated to one day do battle with Brahms, a former Einherjar who had chosen the curse of undeath over continued servitude. That day was not today, however.
Brahms was considered a peer to Odin himself and, while Freya was confident that she would emerge victorious...
She was not confident that she would survive the encounter.
So long as the traitor was content to wallow in his isolation, though, there was no need to press the battle.
"...No," Lenneth said after a moment of hesitation. "He said little else that was not a boast of his own strength, Lady Freya."
Freya pursed her lips, focusing on that hesitation. A tremor of unease passed through her heart as the goddess looked down to the Valkyrie's hands. Lenneth had been instructed to wear the ring given to her by Odin...
"The ring of the Nibelung, Lenneth. Where is it?" This was shaping up to be a disaster, Freya could feel it.
If not for her other duties, it may well have been time for her to intervene personally. As it was?
They still had a few options.
"...It has been cursed," the Valkyrie admitted, hesitating once more. "I cannot wear it."
No, Freya realized after a moment of consideration.
What she was feeling was the onset of a headache.
"This situation is unacceptable," the elder goddess told her junior. "We are not simply being sabotaged, Lenneth. We are actively being mocked! You will find this fool, Valkyrie, and you shall slay him! Force him into service so that we may show him the error of his ways!"
"Very well!" Lenneth's eyes hardened and her back straightened as she found a bit of steel for her spine. "I will find Amanda Hugginkiss and I will force them into my cohort of Einherjar!"
...Amanda Hugginkiss?
Freya brought one hand up to the space above her eyes as her nascent headache crystallized into something far more painful.
Perhaps, Freya thought as a divinely painful migraine took shape, sealing away so much of the Valkyrie's memories between incarnations was a mistake.
-----
Gael did not consider himself to be well studied in the secrets of the human mind. Never had he been formally educated at any of the colleges of sorcery, nor was he an adherent of the Ways of the White.
Everything that he had picked up throughout his many years had been a matter of need rather than want. Rare was the moment where he was truly idle.
He was uncertain as to how long he and Alchemist had been on this particular journey but Gael would admit that he felt better. They were rarely in any kind of a hurry but they still had purpose.
Direction.
The ancient man had felt adrift ever since his... resurrection? He'd meditated on that, tried his best to remember the state he'd been in when he'd been dead. There were no images, no sounds or smells but he thought he could remember being held, gently, by someone.
He did not know. Gael was no deep thinker. His existence had been one of purpose, following the orders of whichever master he found himself under. And whenever he would outlast his master? Be it god, king or country?
Gael would move on. He would find another that could direct his blade.
Finding himself in service to the Sable Church had been distasteful but they were like him, in a way. They would get crushed, severed and slain yet still found a way to survive. To crawl out of whichever purge they eventually found themselves the victim to.
Through them, he'd met Freid. Through her, Gael had met the painter. The painter...
Gael had never known a creature so pure.
Protecting her, seeing to her needs... Gael had found purpose, true purpose, once more. Even if it had led to his death, he had gladly died to offer her the blood she needed to paint a world anew.
It had been for naught, as so much of Gael's working had been. The girl had been spirited away after his demise, stolen by the same man that stood next to Gael within the woods that stood near a field of white, blooming flowers.
He could feel his nose and throat itch even as he breathed through a thick cloth. The dust in the air, 'Pollen' as Alchemist called it, was poisonous and Gael had declined the man's offer of another piece of equipment that would fully annul the toxin.
Gael would survive, he refused to fall to something so small. He'd much left to do, now.
"...There's a village near here," Alchemist spoke softly, his words only just louder than the winds that spread the foul pollen into the air. "Small and poor. The people have taken to selling their daughters to slavers, heedless of the fact that it will kill their village just as well as their poverty."
Gael remained silent. It was hardly anything that he hadn't seen before.
"Throughout the world, everything is getting worse. Bit by bit. It's a slow decline, too little at a time for the mortals to notice it," the mage continued, some small measure of heat in his voice as he leaned against a tree. Like Gael, his weapon was placed across his back. Unlike Infernas, the black spear did not need a special, enchanted sheath to contain it. "It's been happening for a few hundred years. Crops fail, disease spreads, the walls keeping the realms separate grow weaker and weaker. Corpses rise and demons slip through, there's even a few spots where one can reach towards the heavens of another realm..."
"And through it all, war," Gael commented, his voice full of experience. "Those who have naught will take from those that do. By force, if trickery and coercion fail."
"War." Gael could hear Alchemist inhale slowly. "By design, no less. There are four Artifacts across the various realms. Three of them are in the hands of Asgards, though only one belongs to them. Regardless of what that thieving cockswallow, Odin, proclaims. His Gungnir is one of them, a double-bladed sword in this world as compared to the spear it is described in most others. The Elven Bow in the Forest of Spirits is another-"
Gael remembered the forest fondly. He and Alchemist had gone through it to reach a truly grand tree that sat in the center of the forest, hidden by enchantments the mage had not broken, no, but quietly led the old Undead through.
The tree in the center of the forest, it had been massive beyond words. It was old, older than the world-
And sick. The lower branches drooped dangerously and its leafs were yellowed and withered.
An old dragon, full of ice and poison, was devouring its roots. At least, that was what Alchemist had told the old man when he'd gathered some of the few remaining seed clusters that hung low enough to be seen.
"-the Dragon Orb is the treasure meant to remain within Midgard and the demon sword, Levantine, is the treasure of Niflheim. These are each meant to maintain stability and prosperity in their individual realms. Without them..." Alchemist sighed quietly as a woman made her way into the poisoned fields.
A beautiful woman, if Gael were to judge. A warrior with long, platinum hair. She wore a breastplate, sallet and half-gauntlets all forged of blue-steel.
"Without them, the people suffer. Nations go to war and some rare few are tempered in the crucible of combat to become warriors," Alchemist continued to explain as the woman in the distance seemed to have some kind of seizure. She clutched at her head as tears escaped her eyes, as she looked to the fields, and beyond. "Warriors that are then harvested by the Valkyrie, to be sent on to Asgard to fight and die in the grand wars of the heavens, forged by the greed of the gods."
Suddenly, the woman was encased in a great sphere of magic, the likes of which Gael had never seen before as the moon overhead turned dark. She struggled against her magical bonds, audibly in pain.
The old undead hesitated, his hand reaching up to unseal his sword before Alchemist placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Wait," he told Gael, certainty in his voice as the magic in front of them broke. "This is the only time that all three parts of the Valkyrie's soul will be in one realm at once."
Where before had been a calm and certain woman in blue armor, Gael saw something different as the moon was restored.
The woman had been replaced. Her face may have been the same but her armor had turned black and her posture now carried with it a level of hostility and threat that Gael had only ever seen in the mad dogs of war.
"...Hrist," Alchemist said, naming the soul that now inhabited the woman from before. "The aspect of the Valkyrie most loyal to Odin."
From across the field, another man and woman ran out. One, a shirtless man who wore a gauntlet as his only piece of armor and carried a great sword to match Gael's own. The other was a woman, carrying a staff and literally no other arms or armor.
They were too far away for Gael to hear what they said to this 'Hrist' but it seemed to irritate the goddess. She raised one hand, divine power forming before her palm before it lanced out to kill the two Einherjars-
And Gael saw something impossible.
Just before the duo, just before the brilliant light would strike them, a specter formed. A woman with long, silver hair wearing blue armor.
The Valkyrie's former self.
Lenneth.
She held her hands out as though to shield her Einherjar from Hrist's divine blow and was shattered to motes of light when it struck her.
"And that's our cue," Alchemist told him as the mage began to step out from their cover. The trio of warriors dispersed, Hrist taking to the skies whilst the two Einherjar ran off. "We don't have that much time, Gael. I'll need you to keep watch in case anything tries to interrupt me."
"Very well," Gael agreed in an instant. "So long as I stand, none shall pass!"
The duo tromped through the fields of poisoned flowers until they reached the spot the spirit had been shattered at. Gael uncapped the sheath of his blade and began to extract it as Alchemist, instead, removed an absurdly large sapphire from a pocket that was most certainly too small to have contained it.
When the wizard held it aloft in the air upon one hand and held a much smaller diamond in his other, something about the air began to shift and change. The yellow gem on his right gauntlet glowed and figments appeared momentarily in the air, images of the woman from before as she comforted her Einherjar. As she helped them seek vengeance or find succor.
"What is this?" Gael asked, taking in the sight of the Valkyrie doing battle with an old, hardened mage inside of a great temple. "What are these visions?"
"Lenneth's memories," Alchemist explained as some of the nearby clouds of sight and sound were drawn into the sapphire. It began to softly glow with an inner light as more and more was drawn into it whilst the diamond instead turned to black dust. "Her soul lingers here. This is the only time, without time-travel tomfoolery, that all three pieces of Valkyrie are present on the mortal plane. Lenneth's soul, here. Hrist, within her body and, inside of Brahm's castle, Silmeria is trapped within crystal and beyond the reach of Odin."
"Here, we change the story," Alchemist's words carried a measure of certainty that filled Gael with determination. "Here, we break the chains of stolen Fate!"
-----
Lezard Valeth observed the remains of his work. The man was a brilliant sorcerer, a peerless alchemist and, when the mood struck him, a necromancer beyond compare!
So seeing much of his work left shattered and rotting within his lab left him feeling... a touch irked. Lenneth Valkyrie had found her way to him, drawn by the intentional murder of Lezard's former teacher, Lorenta. The sorceress had been a wonderful gift for the Valkyrie, a powerful mage practically wrapped and ready to be forced into servitude as an Einherjar!
Obviously, the bodies Lezard had made weren't up to the Valkyrie's standards. He was going to have to get back to work, make them better. Better able to mirror his love's beautiful visage!
Stepping around the destruction Lenneth had left in her wake, Lezard felt an odd chill. Pressing his glasses further up his nose, the necromancer stopped and place to look around himself.
Shattered glass, rotting corpses forged from Elf flesh, inert alchemic fluids spreading across the grounds...
Lezard slowly turned in place, listening to his instincts.
Something was wrong... someone else had been casting magic. Someone else had broken into his sanctum!
Placing one hand on the tank containing the mock-body he'd based the others off of, Lezard looked around. He couldn't pinpoint the location but he could feel an enchantment somewhere within his lab...
The madman's eyes locked on to one of his failures, a homonculus that failed to mature out of its childhood. He'd never quite been able to determine the cause but he'd allowed it to remain, a curiosity more than anything else.
Was that the source? He knew that none of his followers would dare try to tamper with his progress, but-
"'Scuze me, pardon me, coming through-" a new voice called in his sanctum. A man in black armor stepped out from behind a ruined container and walked directly towards Lezard. Stopping in front of him, the interloper tilted their head just slightly to the side. "Do you mind? I need to get around you."
"You fool!" Lezard shouted at the armored man. Their presence here was impossible, especially as Lezard could feel no magic coming from them. "Do you have any idea who I-"
Lezard was rather abruptly cut off when a gauntleted fist slammed into the side of his jaw. The mage flew to the side, rolling and twisting through the muck and mire of his lab until he came to a halt against the far wall. The mage tried to stand up, one hand on the wall-
When a pair of gauntlets wrapped around his throat, lifting his struggling form against the wall.
"Yes, murderer," the armored man said as Lezard felt magic wrap around him, sealing away his own spells and enchantments. With his glasses askew, Lezard could barely make out the faceless visage of the helmet of his attacker but he could hear the raw disdain in his voice. "And I know what you would do if left to your own devices. Even now the future is in motion-"
Lezard had tampered with his own soul, testing dark and terrible magics that would loosen the tether between it and his body. Spells that would better allow him to possess others, to better move to a freshly built homonculus.
So when he felt a curse settle upon his very soul?
Lezard's struggling grew very, very still as he looked at his attacker with raw, unfiltered fear.
"-and you will not be the one to determine where it will go!"
Lezard heard a swift *Crack!* before his assaulter dropped him to the ground. Trying to move, trying to get up, Lezard's limbs did not move. He tried to shout and call for help but, though he felt his jaw moving, no sound came out.
He could only watch on in petrified silence as the armored mage walked up to the test body and-
The man dispelled the magic over the tube and Lezard's eyes widened. It hadn't been a test body or model or anything else of the sort! It had been one of his perfected homonculi, enchanted and ensorcelled so that Lezard, nay, all others would simply pay it no mind!
When?!
When had the mage had the time?! When had his lab been broken into!?
The necromancer wanted to rage, to scream in fury at the violation!
Lezard's killer placed one hand against the tube before turning back to look at him. Lezard could imagine their eyes meeting his own, he could imagine-
The necromancer felt a moment of confusion within his pain as the mage raised a device, almost like a crossbow with no bow, and pointed the tube of it directly at him.
The silenced wizard did not even have a chance to try and scream before his world went black.
-----
Hrist, the current Valkyrie, flew at speed to the castle of the Vampire King. She knew not why Lenneth left Silmeria in the traitor's clutches but she would correct that oversight.
Whatever weakness filled her heart, whatever Lenneth had done to press Odin into using his Sovereign's Rite, Hrist could not know.
She dared not so much as try and guess. The Aesir needed a Valkyrie and it would take many, many long years for Lenneth to reconstitute herself enough to be embodied once more. With Silmeria trapped, that duty fell to Hrist. And should Hrist fail...
A shudder of unease traveled through Hrist's heart and down her spine.
She would not fail. She would not falter! Odin would see no need to replace her, she swore it so!
Tearing into Brahm's castle, Hrist readied the sword Lenneth had left to her and began her assault. Vampires and demons alike fell before her, their elders and the succubi quickly following them to the depths of Hel.
She swiftly made her way into the darkened throne room of Brahms, the crystal that held Silmeria drifted overhead, casting the room in a curious blue light.
"Traitor!" she declared, holding her blade out and ready.
"...Hrist," Brahms replied, by his tone she would think he were rather bored. The man sat upon his throne, his chin resting upon his palm and his wine-red eyes looking into her own with...
Pity.
"It would seem I'm rather popular of late," the vampire king continued as Hrist slowly approached. "A traveling mage and his companion, Lenneth and her cohort. What business would you have with me that Lenneth did not?"
"You know why I am here, traitor!" Hrist narrowed her eyes in preparation as she crept closer and closer under the dim light of the hanging crystal. "Your very existence is a stain upon the honor of Asgard!"
"...Honor is earned, Valkyrie," Brahms tiredly stated. "You and the others might proclaim yourselves righteous and just as much you wish. It will not change the truth of your actions."
The woman stopped, rage burning in her heart as she heard people approaching from behind. Keeping her blade raised as she turned, she found only the worthless Einherjar that Lenneth had kept with her. The current incarnation of her once-loyal Arngrim and some woman that Hrist could not be bothered to remember.
"Hrist!" Arngrim shouted upon seeing her, well out of breath. Even his growing constitution as his spiritual form approached that of the least among the Aesir had not been enough to keep apace with her, it seemed.
Still, it was most curious that he was even here. She ought have left him half a continent behind...
Hrist's dark eyes slipped from the warrior to the mage, certain that she was to blame.
"The confrontation between Hrist and I is fated," Brahms said as he stood from his throne. "But what are you lot doing here?"
"Valkyrie was burdened by a false-" Arngrim began to say before he was interrupted by the sound of clapping.
A man in black armor and another in a red cloak stepped into the room, side by side. One bore a strange black case upon his back, magic radiating from it like a flame. The other bore a spear, black as night but familiar in shape. An echo of the false Gungnir that Odin carried into battle before rising to his place as king of the gods and taking the true Gungnir in hand.
Unlike the weapon wielded by his crimson cloaked companion, the spear was truly void of anything. It felt as though a hole had been cleaved into the world, shaped as a weapon and carried by the man in black!
"You'll find your explanation lost upon these two, ghost," the man in black said, slowly clapping as he entered the room. "Still, I applaud you for trying."
Hrist readied her weapon as the man in red unsealed his sheath and extracted-
The burning blade, Infernas?!
How did the man wield a weapon that could burn even Surt himself?!
"...Mage," Brahms greeted the man before his crimson gaze slid over the assembled groups with a loud sigh. "It grows crowded, here."
"I care not what business brings you here!" Hrist declared, frustration in her voice. "But I will not be turned away! I will have justice, Brahms!"
"Oh?" the man in black said as he reached into his blue surcoat and extracted an overlarge sapphire-
Hrist froze as she saw it. She felt it, she felt the presence of Lenneth within!
"But we've a reunion, of sorts." The man chuckled darkly as he stowed the crystal away once more. "All three Valkyries! In one room, even!"
"Who are you?!" Arngrim shouted, drawing his great blade. "What have you done with the Valkyrie?!"
"Gael?" The man said, addressing the ancient warrior in red next to him. "Keep the ghosts busy, would you? Hrist and I have business to attend to."
"As I live..." the ancient man's voice carried with it a promise. Certainty filled every syllable. "There is no evil that will stand!"
Hrist clutched her blade in both hands as Arngrim tore after the duo, raising his greatsword in a heavy, overhanded chop. It struck nothing, the man in black armor simply disappeared whilst the red-cloaked warrior rolled by him, bringing the Infernas up into a strike that Arngrim barely blocked with his gauntleted arm.
And then, impossibly, Arngrim was knocked back by an invisible blow.
Hrist barely had time to process the strange sight before her instincts screamed at her, forcing her to dodge to the side as the point of the black spear ripped through the space she'd just occupied.
She lunged back, her blade coming in low to strike at the black knight's side. The man interposed the shaft of his spear in the way, catching Hrist in a deadlock.
"Who are you?!" she demanded, pushing with all her might. The knight slid back but he did not break his stance. "What have you done to Lenneth!"
"The same I'll do to you-" the man twisted, forcing Hrist's sword to the side and slapping her in the face with the shaft of his spear. She danced back and away from him. "-kinslayer."
The Valkyrie felt her heart skip a beat before it began to pump fury into her veins.
"It shall be engraved upon your very soul! Divine Assault-" Hrist declared as she launched herself at the man. Her blade struck at him, each time slamming into his spear. Each time, a part of her noticed that his footing was more certain, that he was deflecting more and more of the force of her blows instead of absorbing it. Calling upon the magics embedded into her very being, a series of phantasmal spears were summoned into existence. The man struggled harder to deflect them, keeping his attention as crimson wings grew from Hrist's back and lifted her into the air. Motes of bloody light flew from her wings and into her hand, forming a phantasmal copy of the knight's own spear. She twisted the great weapon about as she named her magics. "Nibelung Valesti!"
Flames wreathed the spear, forming a majestic bird as she launched the great weapon at the bound knight!
But it did not land.
From the shadows of the room, a dark chill filled the air and another spear, black but for a head of violet light lanced forth and knocked Hrist's spectral weapon aside.
"...No!" Brahms declared as Hrist landed on the ground. "You cannot be here!"
A haunting clop filled the air, followed by another and then another as a warrior in black armor with a bronze, antlered mask rode a massive war-horse out of the darkness.
"And yet?" Hrist dropped to one knee, her head bowed in supplication as the man upon the six-legged horse spoke. "I am."
The fighting elsewhere in the room stopped, Arngrim and the sorceress barely holding on as the red-hooded warrior fought the both together with practiced ease.
"Rise, Valkyrie," the specter said as Brahms once again stood from his throne. "Rise and let me look upon the fruits of my weakness."
Hrist did as she was bade and looked up as she heard the rider dismount from his horse.
The form of it was wrong-wrong-wrong-wrong-wrong but she knew this feeling. Even if the shape was not right, she knew what it felt like to stand before Odin, King of the Aesir!
Hrist looked up. She looked into the lone, crimson eye that stared out at her from behind the bronze mask. The regretful gaze as-
Pain tore through her chest!
Hrist looked down dumbly and found the head of the knight's black spear had torn through her armor.
"I am so sorry, my Valkyrie," Odin told her, regret clear in his voice. "But this will be made right. This, as your king, I swear to you."
"No..." Hrist weakly cried as she felt the black knight work his wicked magics upon her. "I cannot... fail..."
"Sleep, Hrist," Odin's calm voice did little to soothe the pain of her failure. "And soon you will awaken, who-"
Hrist's eyes closed, the pain faded away as she drifted into a dark, dreamless sleep.
-----
Alchemist's arms were killing him as he wished Hrist's dying form away with Trap the Soul. The gemstone he'd prepared for her, an especially large ruby, shone with an internal glow as the fragmentary soul was swallowed into it.
The goddess hit like a freight train and it had been all that he could do just to keep up without resorting to his buffing spells. Each parried strike had felt a bit smoother, at least.
Then the witch had pulled out her finisher. Stuck as he was between everything else she'd thrown at him, he would've either had to eat it and pray or else teleport out of the way. An option that wasn't especially feasible given that Gael had been fighting with Lenneth's party behind him.
Odin... Alchemist had summoned the god's avatar before the fight had even begun. That the dark god had chosen to linger in the shadows wasn't exactly part of any plan but, being brutally honest, Alchemist's plans all revolved around what was going on outside of combat.
"I will not stand for this!" Brahms shouted, his fists clenched hard enough to draw blood.
"Then sit," Alchemist told the man as he turned around to face him. "I've yet still one more Valkyrie to claim."
Arngrim, Mystina and Brahms alike all looked up as Alchemist pointed towards the ceiling. To the crystal in which Silmeria was entombed. Gael, well aware of what was going on, clung to his blade as he held it ready.
"You'll not touch her!" Arngrim shouted, his sword held out and ready to strike. "Whatever your plans, you won't be allowed to succeed!"
"Hurry, Champion," Odin growled as he reseated himself upon Sleipner. "You've drawn the eyes of my second."
Alchemist locked his eyes upon Brahms's own as he activated his inventory and withdrew a homonculus, one he'd dressed in gleaming armor, made of Zenithium and forged by his own hand.
"My plans?" Alchemist asked as he snapped his fingers and teleported the crystal containing Silmeria down from its post as the chandelier in the room. Brahms lunged, claws outstretched only to run face-first into a Wall of Force. "You've done a fantastic job keeping Silmeria safe, just as she did you..."
Holding the sapphire containing Lenneth in his right hand and the ruby containing Hrist in his left, Alchemist fused them both together with the giant crystal holding Silmeria. The soul within shone with a brilliant light, the power it now held dwarfing all others in the room-
"But it's time for the Valkyries to sleep eternal, restored once more to their true self!" Placing one hand on the massive crystal, already cracking as it struggled to contain the true soul of Valkyrie, Alchemist fused it into the homonculus he'd stolen and then further empowered.
The woman, the completed soul restored from its broken fragments, opened her eyes. She stared unblinking at the black knight-
And then she opened her mouth and screamed. Light and noise filled the room, a literal force that shattered through the defenses Alchemist had emplaced and sent everyone else flying into the walls. Even Odin, faced with such Light against his Darkness, dispelled rather than struggle against it.
Alchemist, unfortunately, had no such luxury. His job was not yet done.
Standing up, he pushed himself forward against the waves of force that threatened to once-again topple him. He pressed onward, one hand shielding his face against the blinding light. Each step was a struggle, each step demanded more from him than the last.
He refused to falter, however.
The true Valkyrie had been restored, yes, but the force that once sundered her could do so again. Alchemist had taken the time to refine the Gem of Creation into the Jewel of Creation and fused both into a simple ring. Fused them together alongside a spell that would safeguard the Valkyrie, the goddess of Fate.
~~ Ring of the True Soul ~~
~~ Transmutation costs -50%, Conversion costs -50%, ignore the first 3,500 GP of material costs, The wearer is immune to effects that target souls or that would be foiled by a nondetection spell. If the wearer is slain, she cannot be restored to life by magic (save by a miracle, wish, or divine intervention) until the ring is removed. ~~
Once the light reached a level of intensity that Alchemist was fully blinded by it, he reached out towards where he thought the screaming woman's arm was. He missed, hitting her hip, but he found her arm on the second try.
As he fumbled for the ring, slipping it on to the index finger of her right hand, Alchemist was left wondering...
Did the woman even need to breathe?
"What trickery is this?!" a new voice shouted from overhead from someone that Alchemist couldn't see.
His entire world was white and loud. He'd barely heard the newcomer at all.
"The Valkyrie is unsealed?! Impossible!" the person, a woman shouted as the Valkyrie's screams began to fade. Alchemist's world went from white to green with black spots that were quickly giving way back to his actual vision. "This affront cannot go unpunished!"
Overhead, a woman in a green skirt and jacket with a jaunty little green cap came into view.
Freya.
Who was in the middle of charging her Ether Blast, an absolutely massive ball of aspected mana, an attack that Alchemist was sure he could survive being struck by...
Once.
But that he really did not wish to test.
"...Nope," Alchemist said, grabbing the insensate goddess and teleporting back towards the wall once Freya flung her massive magical orb down at them.
"Freya!" Brahms shouted as the floor of his throne room collapsed. Dust and mortar choked out the air and rendered what little light was in the room ever darker. "You would dare attack me, in my own sanctum!?"
"This blasphemy cannot go unpunished!" Freya shouted, giving away her position. "So long as you lingered within your castle, traitor, we were content to leave well enough alone! Now, however?"
The dust began to settle as, overhead, Freya held an even larger orb of energy above her.
"Now you shall perish!"
Alchemist knew he couldn't take Freya in a straight fight. Not without causing so much collateral damage that it just wasn't worth the effort.
He could leave. Right now, if he so wished. The quest he'd accepted only demanded that he steal Lezard's Flask, the one he'd successfully crafted his Philosopher's Stone in. It would offer up a twenty point bonus to all Alchemy checks.
He'd already absconded with Lezard's libraries. Every book in every nook was Alchemist's now.
But he'd set into motion a significant enough change and the actors he'd empowered were directly at risk of annihilation. If Valkyrie fell, the world would fall.
So, Alchemist lingered. If he couldn't take Freya in a straight fight?
He wouldn't.
Snapping his fingers as Freya threw her Ether Blast, Alchemist cast Teleport.
On Freya.
"What?" the woman demanded, stark confusion in her voice as she was moved only a handful of meters. She turned around in the air as light descended upon her and came face to face with her own Ether Blast. "What- No!"
The orb exploded upon impact, sending Freya slamming down into the ruined floor below.
"Hey, Brahms!" Alchemist shouted as he leaned down to check on Valkyrie. The woman wasn't responsive, not yet, but her eyes were tracking. She was getting there. "You think you could take her?"
She just needed time to adjust to her new body, filled with new potential.
"Maybe!" the vampire shouted from across the room. "It'd be close, though!"
That was about what Alchemist figured. And it was something that Alchemist could change.
He snapped his fingers once, Berserk. He snapped his fingers a second time, Protect. He snapped his fingers a third time, Haste, and he was done.
As Brahms tore off, faster than Alchemist could see and aimed straight towards Freya.
"Valkyrie," Alchemist said softly as he leaned down until he was eye to eye with the woman. He didn't know her true name. He could guess but he doubted it would matter. "Loki has stolen the Dragon Orb and slain your friend and failed savior, Lucian."
The woman's eyes, once dull, sharpened into immediate focus upon his saying that last name.
"Only you can do something," Alchemist explained as his duplicate began scouring Lezard's tower for his Alchemy equipment. "But that will be up to you. No one else can make this choice for you. No one else can choose your fate."
The mage stood up and began to make his way towards Gael, the old beast was struggling to stand and was actually clutching a wall for support.
Alchemist felt about the same. His arms hurt, his back hurt and his legs were killing him. Just because he could keep getting back up after getting thrown into a wall did not mean, at any level, that he actually enjoyed it.
"...Who are you?" the Valkyrie called as Alchemist made his way around the hole in which Brahms and Freya did battle. "You've no fate. Who are you!?"
"@**&@%$#%, Alchemist, Alec Mist," Alchemist said aloud as he reached down to help Gael stand upright. He couldn't see Arngrim or Mystina at all. "You might know me as 'A', though."
Hopefully they were fine. Alchemist had some fun playing the bad guy, tweaking Lenneth's nose at every turn he could but... it was time to go home.
"Farewell, Valkyrie," Alchemist said in the woman's direction as he helped Gael stand up straight. In Lezard's tower, he'd just found the man's private Alchemy lab. "Make sure your future is bright, alright?"
The woman opened her mouth to speak but Alchemist couldn't make it out over the sound of Freya's screams ripping from the floor below.
With a wave of his free hand, Alchemist inventoried Lezard's equipment-
And disappeared with a loud, obnoxious 'Pop!'
Disclaimer Me Do: I own nothing you recognize. And most of what you don't recognize, I still don't own.
_________________________________________________________________________
Arriving into a strange place, Gael almost stumbled at the sudden feeling of danger that hung in the air like a pall.
"What is this place?" the ancient warrior asked, looking about himself in confusion as one hand inched its way to his old, rusted blade. "This feeling- I swear I know it!"
He and the mage-knight had arrived in a forested region, the boughs overhead dense enough to nearly blot out the sun.
"The realm of Midgard," the younger man began to explain as he, too, took in their environment. "The mortal realm, nearly the bottom-most of the seven realms, making up the 'base' of Yggdrasil. Only Helheim, the realm of the dead, sits below it making up what might be considered the roots of the world tree. Unfortunately, what you're feeling is probably the approach of Ragnarok, the end of this world."
Gael closed his eyes and breathed, soaking in the feeling of this world. The air was full of magic but it was twisted, torn out of balance. Darkness grew and the dead called, he could feel it deep in his bones.
He turned his gaze down as Alchemist extracted a small, round device from his pocket. It was a simple little thing, a paper thin diamond-shaped piece of material that spun in a little circle of glass. The wizard watched it for a moment, turning his entire body until it matched with the red portion of the device.
"We have a relatively tight time limit," the wizard continued as he took in his surroundings once more. "We're after a small handful of treasures, just three-"
The mage cut himself off as his eyes locked on the weathered grip of Gael's well-worn greatsword.
"...Four. Four locations."
Gael reached up and grabbed the hilt of his sword.
It was a good sword. A perfectly fine sword. It had served him well throughout the countless years he'd used it!
Alchemist had no idea what he was talking about...
"...Very well," Gael said, considering what may be the cause of whatever haste the mage desired. "Where shall we go first?"
"A place called the Solde Catacombs, along the northern coast." Alchemist pocketed his strange little device and turned towards the ancient undead. "We'll need to fly if we want to beat the Valkyrie there."
"...If man were meant to fly, Manus would have given us wings!" Gael could feel his face scrunching up in distaste. He had flown before, yes... But never of his own volition!
"That sounds like quitter talk," Alchemist told him before, in a ripple of light, he was armored in a suit of fine, black plate mail. "Come on, let's go-"
And then that black plate armor morphed and changed, elongating greatly into a great but wickedly thin beast. A pair of wings sprouted from its back, blacker than the armor and speckled with small motes of light.
"No..." Gael moaned, his hands itching to grab at his blade and fend off the beast that Alchemist had become. "Not again!"
But he hadn't a chance before the great creature wrapped both of its claws around Gael's form and launched the both of them into the air, a blue aura surrounding them both as the freshly revealed Dragon took off at speed!
Watching the ground swiftly pass by underneath of them, Gael wondered if he would survive a fall from the lofty heights Alchemist swiftly reached...
And then cursed his undead constitution, knowing that he would be restored even if he did not survive the fall.
-----
A tall woman with long, platinum hair that cascaded down her back beneath the sallet she wore frowned in confusion as she slowly walked through the desecrated halls of the catacombs she'd been directed to. Old, dry bones crunched under foot as she descended mountains made of the nameless deceased. Dust hung thick in the air, choking out what little light found its way into the depths.
She could feel the taint of undeath clinging to the walls, see the lingering spirits dancing about the shadows-
And yet they did not attack. No, in truth they could not do so!
The lesser vampires that once stalked the halls had been cut down, their black blood sprayed across the walls, pooling in thick, dark clumps upon the ground. The dragon servants that defended the master of this place had been run through- Some had even been slain by their own swords!
And the master... black skin and crimson eyes told the Valkyrie quite clearly that she was not alone in searching out the treasures of Midgard for the grand battles to come.
"...Who could have done this?" the woman asked, seemingly to herself as she took in the devastation about the room. Great furrows had been carved through the stones making up the room. Pieces of rock had exploded or else melted, the woman could not be certain as to which.
Looking up, she even found a great, hairy beast had been stuck to the ceiling somehow, its slackened jaw and empty gaze quite telling of its state.
"Someone beat us here," a voice chimed in from the Valkyrie's side as a great bear of a man materialized. Arngrim, a swordsman that boasted a rare skill in long blades during his life and the first of the souls the Valkyrie had claimed as her Einherjar. "And beat whatever had taken over the place."
"The dökkálfar," the Valkyrie explained shortly. "Whoever came here, they slaughtered the drow and their minions."
The woman's eyes slid down from the corpse impaled upon the far wall and over to the chests they had once claimed. Crouching down, the Aesir opened the first and found a crown.
"Well that's odd," a young girl's voice called out as a child manifested at the Valkyrie's elbow. Jelanda, a young princess claimed by the machinations of court. The girl had been fed a potion that allowed a demon to manifest through her flesh, leaving her trapped within the beast as it rampaged and killed her own soldiers. "Why would someone just leave these treasures here?"
"Well, if they want us to have them, I certainly won't complain!" a third voice crowed as the Valkyrie's third Einherjar manifested behind her. A young man in a dark, earthy outfit with a bow held in hand, Llewelyn was useful but the man lacked in potential.
Opening the second chest, the Valkyrie found an Emerald Necklace sitting in place. Clearly disturbed and yet there was no trap within the chest...
"Keep your wits about you," the Aesir scolded as she moved on to the third. "We know not what machinations our predecessors had in coming here. No mere mortal could have handled the dark elves here."
Opening the third chest, the Valkyrie was met with nothing greater than a sheet of paper. A frown marred her round face as she lifted up the white, gleaming sheet-
'Lenneth
A soul still sealed will find no victory in the battles ahead.
Hugs and kisses, A'
Pain tore through the Valkyrie upon reading the last word, streaming clearly up from the hand upon which she wore the Ring of the Nibelung!
The woman frantically tore off her glove and nearly twisted her finger off in her haste to remove the ring, the divine artifact clinking innocently when it landed on the battle-scarred stones at her feet.
"Ominous," her final Einherjar commented as he formed in front of her, already crouched down to examine the ring she'd been forced to remove. Belenus carefully lifted the artifact between two fingers as he held it up before her.
The man had been a widower in life, learning to empathize with the slaves of his homeland. Perhaps he'd even loved the one he kept.
Perhaps he'd just been lonely.
It mattered little when the undead had claimed his life.
"Dangerous," Lenneth hissed as the ring burned against her divine flesh. She did not know if it had been cursed, somehow... Or if she had been. Both were well beyond the reach of mere mortals!
Placing the ring into one of her pouches, Lenneth swore- Whoever this 'A' was?
Their impertinence would not go unanswered!
-----
Alchemist followed along sedately as Gael tore through the monsters that had formed in the Citadel of Flame, an artificial structure that had been dug out underneath of the volcano, Surtr.
Truthfully, he barely had to interfere beyond purchasing a Crimson Ring for the man. It actively healed the old monster with every flame that tried to kill him.
He'd intended for this to be the third dungeon they would visit but he had to change their itinerary when he could literally hear Gael's blade creaking and groaning.
Alchemist hadn't even known that titanite could rust. Or, equally possible, the blade had been corroded by other means. Possibly even by the same corruption that had slowly swallowed Gael's mind throughout the years?
Regardless, it had actually proven beyond Alchemist's ability to restore. The very identity of the old blade had been twisted and warped beyond recovery, rendering the magics that Alchemist tried entirely useless.
"Let's take a moment to rest," Alchemist suggested once Gael had his fill of smashing his rusted sword through the form of a fire elemental.
The wizard hooked his fingers through his freshly made belt as he waited for Gael to make up his mind. It was an intermediary step towards Alchemist's ultimate goal, filling it with the potent factors that existed within the world of Valkyrie Profile. Already he'd placed a number of pieces into it-
-- Belt of Ashen Growth --
-- Experience +1,540%, GP +860%, Mana +300%, Weapon Mastery +1,900%, Gain +1 Perk Point when leveling up --
-including the factors from his ring. He couldn't benefit from multiple copies of the same enchantment, which was unfortunate, but it felt good to simplify things.
The Emerald Necklace was one of the artifacts Alchemist had been after. In the game, it offered whichever character was equipped with it a bonus of one-hundred points to assign towards skills or special attributes. His system translated it directly into perk points.
It had been the first of the four artifacts Alchemist sought. The others would each offer their own, incredibly powerful bonuses... More than enough, Alchemist was sure, to get Gaia to seal off the entire realm from her Gamers who managed to work their way into a jump chain.
"We were in a hurry, were we not?" Gael asked, wiping soot and ash off of his tattered red cloak. "Should we not press onward?"
"Our competition is a bit preoccupied playing with her new friends," Alchemist told the old undead as another Alchemist watched Lenneth from a distance. The shattered soul, under the orders of the one that sundered her, had been busy collecting the lingering souls of the dead to draft into the Aesir's army. "We can take a break long enough to eat."
"...I do not recall when last I ate," Gael mumbled as he placed his rusted, broken sword on his back. "What fare have you to share? Hardtack and water?"
Alchemist, unfortunately, could vividly recall when Gael last ate. And what the man ate.
The dried, black blood of the Pygmy Lords of the Ringed City, gnawed from their withered veins so Gael could reassemble the Dark Soul within himself.
"...A peanut butter sandwich and water," Alchemist told the old man after he got his stomach back under control. He had a lot of other options, prepared meals, MREs, random snacks...
But sometimes? Alchemist just wanted a sandwich.
Accepting the offered food, Gael sat himself down on the steps next to the wizard. There was a moment of silence as the two ate their food before Gael held the sandwich down between his knees, his head tilted down to look at it.
"For what reason did you bring me here, Alchemist?" Gael asked, his sooty sandwich pointed at the mage. "Why did you not bring along your cohort?"
"...Sometimes? I just need a break from people," Alchemist admitted, flopping his sandwich up and down as he spoke. "I love 'em to bits and I trust them with my life but I'm having a hard time relaxing while I'm trying to keep up with three girls."
Alchemist took a bite of his sandwich and chewed, thinking about what he needed to tell Gael so it didn't sound like he pitied the man. Swallowing and drinking a mouthful of water, Alchemist decided on what to say.
"As for you? I figured I should make sure you still knew how to fight." Which wasn't a nice thing to say, at all. But at least it didn't stink of pity.
"Hah!" Gael snorted, almost laughing. "Arrogant whelp, aren't you?"
"Prove me wrong and we'll see, won't we?" Alchemist asked before he crammed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and stood up, grabbing at his black spear.
The difference the weapon mastery factor made was like night and day. Alchemist was still no master, incredibly far from it, but he could clearly see the difference between when he'd started and where he was. His footing had improved immensely and his timing was getting tighter and tighter with every foe he faced!
Together, the two pressed further through the Citadel. They crushed their foes with practiced ease, silencing the mages they faced and dispersing the living flames that futilely sought to burn them.
The final foe they faced?
An even larger fire elemental. Its inability to cause the duo any harm led to its swift demise.
~~ Enemy Defeated: Fire Elemental (L) ~~
~~ Experience + 544,000 ~~
~~ GP + 309,600 ~~
~~ Obtained Items: Bracelet of Zoe x4~~
And it dropped one of the items that Alchemist was actually after. Taking two of them out of the inventory and a fresh belt, Alchemist fused them into it together with his Ashen Belt.
-- Belt of Ashen Growth R1 --
-- Experience +1,540%, GP +860%, Mana +300%, Weapon Mastery +1,900%, Gain +1 Perk Point when leveling up, HP +600 when leveling up --
Alchemist tightened the belt around his waist as he looked to the chests the boss had left behind. Kicking one open as Gael cautiously opened the other two from their sides, Alchemist was met with a sword that was coated, from tip to hilt, in flames.
~~ Infernas: Attack Power - 250, OHKO enemies weak to fire. Does fire damage to wielder = 3% HP! ~~
Lifting the firebrand as Gael examined the contents of the other two chests, Alchemist dug through his inventory for one specific weapon-
~~ Uber Falcon Blade: Attack Power - 55, attacks strike twice when they connect! ~~
and fused the two together.
~~ Infernas: Attack Power - 250, OHKO enemies weak to fire. Does fire damage to wielder = 3% HP! Attacks strike twice when they connect! ~~
"Here you go, Gael," Alchemist said as he handed over the now-improved weapon. Luckily enough, he'd gotten a base Infernas refunded even as Alchemic Bounty activated and he got several copies of the modified blade. "Go nuts."
Dropping the original sword back into the treasure chest, Alchemist looked to the other two and thought on what to do. He'd already used Wish to create a kind of curse that would latch on to and infect an item, targeted towards the Valkyrie's ring. That would help wear away at the seal Odin had placed on her soul...
So, what else could he do to irritate and annoy the woman? What else could he do that would encourage the woman to think for herself?
Alchemist ran his thumb over the Materia in his bracer as he tried to think of something... and then looked down at the Materia, realizing he'd forgotten to do something.
Inhaling slowly and silently calling himself an idiot, Alchemist extracted the Jump Materia that had been mastered a long time back.
He'd been intending to eat that and see what would happen to the vocation system, see what would happen if he consumed an ability he'd gotten through other means.
"How terribly strange..." Gael muttered as he held the burning greatsword in his hands, shaking the blasted thing up and down in a bid to extinguish its eternal fire. "I feel invigorated simply by holding it!"
That... gave Alchemist an idea.
But he needed to finish what he was already thinking before he got distracted and forgot it. Again.
Removing his helmet, Alchemist choked down the Jump Materia-
~~ DANGER! ~~
~~ Mako Toxicity! ~~
~~ Level: 1! ~~
~~ Poisoning! ~~
~~ Minor! ~~
~~ -5 HP/Minute! ~~
~~ Ability Acquired! ~~
~~ Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju- ~~
~~ Error! Ability "Jump" is attempting to overwrite the ability "Jump". Ability "Jump" priority exceeds 255. Ability-Ability-Ability- ~~
~~ Notice: vocation.ext has suffered a fatal error and crashed. A defect ticket has been issued. If you experience further issues, please contact your local administrator! ~~
"...Huh," Alchemist said as a series of System windows cascaded in front of him. He spent several minutes manually closing them, taking note that they were filled with random symbols and numbers that he couldn't really make any sense of.
Opening a fresh window, Alchemist checked his status and his perks. The vocation tabs had all been replaced with a single "-" sign which did nothing when he pressed it.
Still... he didn't feel any different.
But the 'Jump' ability had been moved to his abilities menu, as had Steal and Mug, abilities he'd already consumed before the vocation system had been implemented in the first place.
Alchemist shook his head and shoved that aside. It wasn't as though he really used the Vocation system to begin with. Its loss wasn't really a big deal.
Besides, he still had a few things that needed doing!
Kicking closed the chest containing the Infernas, then doing the same to a chest that had a vial of water, Alchemist picked a decently sized oil lamp out of the third. A flame burned inside, it had since the artifact's creation and it would likely continue to do so until the lamp itself was destroyed.
It was literally called the 'Eternal Lamp' after all.
Stowing it in his inventory, Alchemist opened the shop and began typing. He had an idea.
A terrible, awful, wonderful idea!
-----
Alchemist, alone and invisible, crept through the cold stone halls of a tower that stood next to a city called Flenceburg, a place that focused heavily on the study of magic.
His current goal required stealth rather than combat. Gael was talented in one, certainly, but most definitely not the other. Instead the old undead had been left in Alchemist's demi-plane.
The mage watched in silence as the skeletal remains of a tall lizard-man creature shambled by him, a pair of daggers clutched in its claws. They scratched and screeched loudly as the pitted, dull metal scraped against the ground.
The Tower of Lezard Valeth, a brilliant alchemist, a talented necromancer, a man posessed by obsession and... Quite frankly, Alchemist considered the man to be a brilliant idiot.
Still, Lezard -was- brilliant. The mage had succeeded in crafting a Philosopher's Stone, a tool he'd used to take his arts to heights that even Alchemist hadn't been able, or willing, to reach.
Alchemist pushed forward, carefully avoiding the beasts Lezard had crafted to guard his tower. Pitiful creatures, fueled by rage and magic. Ugly, twisted chimeras formed of wild beasts and dominated by sorcery, their souls bound to Lezard's will.
Checking one room, Alchemist saw an unpleasantly familiar sight. Naked women floated in tanks of alchemically neutral fluid, the contents isolated from the influences of time or decay. Each one had been sculpted into the same shape. Each had a soft, round face and long, platinum-silver hair. If any had their eyes open, Alchemist would bet strongly on them being a dark, brilliant blue.
Lezard's fixation.
Lenneth Valkyrie.
Alchemist carefully walked through the room, each step taken slowly to avoid disturbing any of the tubes or wires that criss-crossed the floor haphazardly. One in particular stood out, the homonculus inside was arrested, still in the form of a child.
It still had room to grow. Physically and, more importantly, spiritually.
Still, it wasn't what Alchemist was searching for. He was after two things, a book and a rock.
A very special book and rock.
Silently closing the door behind him as he pressed onwards, Alchemist did his best to parse the numerous sigils and glyphs that were painted along the walls.
Runes. Some he could make out. 'Space', 'displacement', 'time', 'other' and 'outside'. Others were more esoteric, a full idea that had been condensed into a single symbol. If the wizard had more time, he'd have been glad to take pictures of everything.
Instead he hurried forth.
Eventually he found a library. In that library, he found a pedestal. On that pedestal, chained shut, was the book he was after.
The Secret of Everlasting Life.
He could see the trap the book was sitting atop of. It wasn't anything terribly complicated. Just a depressed lever that would activate if the weight on top were removed. Pressing a finger against the pedestal, the mechanism within was jammed together and locked in place by Transmutation, leaving Alchemist free to collect the book unmolested.
He left something special in its place.
Sallying forth, Alchemist still had one more object to collect. That one, however, required he climb higher up the tower. Normally something that would be quite difficult if one didn't wish to activate the various elevators, alerting the master of the tower to the intruders within.
Stepping into the open elevator shaft, Alchemist had other options.
Looking up, he could clearly make out the ledge of the next landing. Crouching down, he Jumped with incredible force!
And still only just barely made it, latching on to the ledge with his fingertips, Alchemist scrambled to pull himself up-
"Then keep searching!" a nasally voice shrieked from an open door down the hall that Alchemist found himself in. "I know the man is somewhere in the city! Find him! Find him and bring him here!"
A short, squat man with a staff taller than himself dashed out of the room the shouting had come from. One of the numerous wizards under Lezard's command.
The greedy little fool ran towards the elevator, missing Alchemist who'd hidden himself just inside of a suspiciously empty room.
No, that wasn't quite right.
There was one thing in the room. On the floor was a crimson circle, inscribed with the runes that roughly meant 'Go' 'Door' 'Open' 'Travel'.
That... might have been what Alchemist had been searching for, actually.
Stepping into the circle, Alchemist fed it a trickle of magic-
And found himself in another room. A trio of treasure chests directly, enticingly in front of him.
"Yeah..." Alchemist said as he shook his head and held his hand out. "That's not suspicious. At all."
He cast Knock three times, opening each chest from where he stood. And as each chest opened, they released a cloud of freezing gas.
Of the three items that Alchemist found, the Creation Gem, the Ether Scepter and the Timer Ring, he only needed one. Replacing the other two, Alchemist held up the gem he'd collected, the gem he'd been searching for.
It was a dull, misshapen red stone. Cut unevenly, it was unpolished and overall did not seem especially impressive. And yet?
And yet, it would be the key to unlocking much of Lenneth's potential.
Alchemist fused the stone into a simple, unadorned band-
~~ Imperfect Ring of Creation x7 ~~
~~ Transmutation costs -50% MP. Ignore the first 1000 GP of material components a spell calls for to a minimum of 0 ~~
and got something incredibly impressive, given that the gem itself could still be refined to another level of strength.
Taking two of the rings out of his inventory, Alchemist expended a significant amount of Alkahest to revert them both into Creation Gems.
One, he placed back in the treasure chest.
The other, he stowed away in the inventory.
Turning to leave, a grin on his face, Alchemist wondered who would be the first to find the little gifts he'd left lying around.
-----
Freya, goddess of life and death, the right hand of Odin, felt a frown mar her peerless visage as she looked down to the Valkyrie's current expression.
Lenneth was a beloved Aesir, an indispensable tool... But she was no Hrist.
Still, it was a far cry better than when Silmeria had been in residence. Lenneth was foolish and pliant but her gifts of the present were well suited to her tasks of finding Einherjar and Artifacts.
"The heroes you've sent to Asgard are without peer, talented in battle and more than well suited to the tasks we need of them," Freya told the Valkyrie as they hovered high above Midgard. "However it seems you are lacking in sending onward the Artifacts we've sent you to retrieve. Some we understand, they are well-suited to aiding you in your efforts in Midgard."
Freya crossed her arms, her long blond hair whipping in the winds.
"Some can do nothing to aid you, proving naught but dangerous if left in the mortal realm," she continued through the Valkyrie's silence. "Explain yourself, Lenneth. Our patience grows thin."
"...I am beleaguered by an unseen foe," the shattered soul began to explain, each word ripped from her mouth like a tooth. "One who seems to delight in passing me, in leaving behind taunts in place of the secrets I am sent to retrieve!"
Freya frowned in consideration as the Valkyrie reached into her satchel and rummaged about for a moment before coming back up with a particularly thin book. Scrawled across the front was a title and author-
'The Secret of Everlasting Life by Amanda Hugginkiss'
Accepting the book, Freya flipped it open and found but a few words.
'Don't Die!'
'Hugs and kisses, A'
Snapping the book shut with a sniff, Freya was met with a series of sheets of paper held out by the Valkyrie. Ripping them from the hands of the maiden, Freya was met with more of the same.
'I.O.U. one fairy. Link stole my bottle.'
'I killed the kraken and my payment was one lousy coin?'
Those and more, all signed with 'Hugs and kisses, A'.
"Worse still," Lenneth continued as she reached into her satchel once more. She retrieved an oblong tube made of some strange, transparent material. Within it, Freya could see coils of copper wire, strange lenses and a pellet of some kind of black material within the core. "Whoever this is, 'A' or 'Amanda Hugginkiss', they have tampered with some of the Artifacts. This was found in place of the Eternal Lantern-"
Lenneth shook the tube, causing the black pellet to rattle back and forth within the channel inside the core of the tube. After perhaps fifteen seconds wasted under the increasingly critical gaze of Freya, Lenneth aimed the lens of the tube towards Freya's face and slid her finger over a black, glossy switch.
A beam of light, brighter than a torch and far more focused, struck Freya in the face and blinded her.
"Gah!" Freya exclaimed, rubbing a hand over her eyes before blinking away the green spot that now filled her vision! "What sorcery is this?!"
"...I know not," Lenneth admitted as she stored the item away. "It grows dim after a short while but the light it produces can be refreshed with a few moments of effort. It has proven surprisingly helpful."
"...Ragnarok approaches and some fool thinks to toy with us?" Freya asked, turning her gaze to look at the Valkyrie that hovered beneath her. "This is unacceptable!"
"I have yet to see this person in the act," Lenneth admitted, her expression thunderous. "But the Vampire King, Brahms, he said that they were working to their own ends."
"Did the deserter have anything truly valuable to offer?" Freya was fated to one day do battle with Brahms, a former Einherjar who had chosen the curse of undeath over continued servitude. That day was not today, however.
Brahms was considered a peer to Odin himself and, while Freya was confident that she would emerge victorious...
She was not confident that she would survive the encounter.
So long as the traitor was content to wallow in his isolation, though, there was no need to press the battle.
"...No," Lenneth said after a moment of hesitation. "He said little else that was not a boast of his own strength, Lady Freya."
Freya pursed her lips, focusing on that hesitation. A tremor of unease passed through her heart as the goddess looked down to the Valkyrie's hands. Lenneth had been instructed to wear the ring given to her by Odin...
"The ring of the Nibelung, Lenneth. Where is it?" This was shaping up to be a disaster, Freya could feel it.
If not for her other duties, it may well have been time for her to intervene personally. As it was?
They still had a few options.
"...It has been cursed," the Valkyrie admitted, hesitating once more. "I cannot wear it."
No, Freya realized after a moment of consideration.
What she was feeling was the onset of a headache.
"This situation is unacceptable," the elder goddess told her junior. "We are not simply being sabotaged, Lenneth. We are actively being mocked! You will find this fool, Valkyrie, and you shall slay him! Force him into service so that we may show him the error of his ways!"
"Very well!" Lenneth's eyes hardened and her back straightened as she found a bit of steel for her spine. "I will find Amanda Hugginkiss and I will force them into my cohort of Einherjar!"
...Amanda Hugginkiss?
Freya brought one hand up to the space above her eyes as her nascent headache crystallized into something far more painful.
Perhaps, Freya thought as a divinely painful migraine took shape, sealing away so much of the Valkyrie's memories between incarnations was a mistake.
-----
Gael did not consider himself to be well studied in the secrets of the human mind. Never had he been formally educated at any of the colleges of sorcery, nor was he an adherent of the Ways of the White.
Everything that he had picked up throughout his many years had been a matter of need rather than want. Rare was the moment where he was truly idle.
He was uncertain as to how long he and Alchemist had been on this particular journey but Gael would admit that he felt better. They were rarely in any kind of a hurry but they still had purpose.
Direction.
The ancient man had felt adrift ever since his... resurrection? He'd meditated on that, tried his best to remember the state he'd been in when he'd been dead. There were no images, no sounds or smells but he thought he could remember being held, gently, by someone.
He did not know. Gael was no deep thinker. His existence had been one of purpose, following the orders of whichever master he found himself under. And whenever he would outlast his master? Be it god, king or country?
Gael would move on. He would find another that could direct his blade.
Finding himself in service to the Sable Church had been distasteful but they were like him, in a way. They would get crushed, severed and slain yet still found a way to survive. To crawl out of whichever purge they eventually found themselves the victim to.
Through them, he'd met Freid. Through her, Gael had met the painter. The painter...
Gael had never known a creature so pure.
Protecting her, seeing to her needs... Gael had found purpose, true purpose, once more. Even if it had led to his death, he had gladly died to offer her the blood she needed to paint a world anew.
It had been for naught, as so much of Gael's working had been. The girl had been spirited away after his demise, stolen by the same man that stood next to Gael within the woods that stood near a field of white, blooming flowers.
He could feel his nose and throat itch even as he breathed through a thick cloth. The dust in the air, 'Pollen' as Alchemist called it, was poisonous and Gael had declined the man's offer of another piece of equipment that would fully annul the toxin.
Gael would survive, he refused to fall to something so small. He'd much left to do, now.
"...There's a village near here," Alchemist spoke softly, his words only just louder than the winds that spread the foul pollen into the air. "Small and poor. The people have taken to selling their daughters to slavers, heedless of the fact that it will kill their village just as well as their poverty."
Gael remained silent. It was hardly anything that he hadn't seen before.
"Throughout the world, everything is getting worse. Bit by bit. It's a slow decline, too little at a time for the mortals to notice it," the mage continued, some small measure of heat in his voice as he leaned against a tree. Like Gael, his weapon was placed across his back. Unlike Infernas, the black spear did not need a special, enchanted sheath to contain it. "It's been happening for a few hundred years. Crops fail, disease spreads, the walls keeping the realms separate grow weaker and weaker. Corpses rise and demons slip through, there's even a few spots where one can reach towards the heavens of another realm..."
"And through it all, war," Gael commented, his voice full of experience. "Those who have naught will take from those that do. By force, if trickery and coercion fail."
"War." Gael could hear Alchemist inhale slowly. "By design, no less. There are four Artifacts across the various realms. Three of them are in the hands of Asgards, though only one belongs to them. Regardless of what that thieving cockswallow, Odin, proclaims. His Gungnir is one of them, a double-bladed sword in this world as compared to the spear it is described in most others. The Elven Bow in the Forest of Spirits is another-"
Gael remembered the forest fondly. He and Alchemist had gone through it to reach a truly grand tree that sat in the center of the forest, hidden by enchantments the mage had not broken, no, but quietly led the old Undead through.
The tree in the center of the forest, it had been massive beyond words. It was old, older than the world-
And sick. The lower branches drooped dangerously and its leafs were yellowed and withered.
An old dragon, full of ice and poison, was devouring its roots. At least, that was what Alchemist had told the old man when he'd gathered some of the few remaining seed clusters that hung low enough to be seen.
"-the Dragon Orb is the treasure meant to remain within Midgard and the demon sword, Levantine, is the treasure of Niflheim. These are each meant to maintain stability and prosperity in their individual realms. Without them..." Alchemist sighed quietly as a woman made her way into the poisoned fields.
A beautiful woman, if Gael were to judge. A warrior with long, platinum hair. She wore a breastplate, sallet and half-gauntlets all forged of blue-steel.
"Without them, the people suffer. Nations go to war and some rare few are tempered in the crucible of combat to become warriors," Alchemist continued to explain as the woman in the distance seemed to have some kind of seizure. She clutched at her head as tears escaped her eyes, as she looked to the fields, and beyond. "Warriors that are then harvested by the Valkyrie, to be sent on to Asgard to fight and die in the grand wars of the heavens, forged by the greed of the gods."
Suddenly, the woman was encased in a great sphere of magic, the likes of which Gael had never seen before as the moon overhead turned dark. She struggled against her magical bonds, audibly in pain.
The old undead hesitated, his hand reaching up to unseal his sword before Alchemist placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Wait," he told Gael, certainty in his voice as the magic in front of them broke. "This is the only time that all three parts of the Valkyrie's soul will be in one realm at once."
Where before had been a calm and certain woman in blue armor, Gael saw something different as the moon was restored.
The woman had been replaced. Her face may have been the same but her armor had turned black and her posture now carried with it a level of hostility and threat that Gael had only ever seen in the mad dogs of war.
"...Hrist," Alchemist said, naming the soul that now inhabited the woman from before. "The aspect of the Valkyrie most loyal to Odin."
From across the field, another man and woman ran out. One, a shirtless man who wore a gauntlet as his only piece of armor and carried a great sword to match Gael's own. The other was a woman, carrying a staff and literally no other arms or armor.
They were too far away for Gael to hear what they said to this 'Hrist' but it seemed to irritate the goddess. She raised one hand, divine power forming before her palm before it lanced out to kill the two Einherjars-
And Gael saw something impossible.
Just before the duo, just before the brilliant light would strike them, a specter formed. A woman with long, silver hair wearing blue armor.
The Valkyrie's former self.
Lenneth.
She held her hands out as though to shield her Einherjar from Hrist's divine blow and was shattered to motes of light when it struck her.
"And that's our cue," Alchemist told him as the mage began to step out from their cover. The trio of warriors dispersed, Hrist taking to the skies whilst the two Einherjar ran off. "We don't have that much time, Gael. I'll need you to keep watch in case anything tries to interrupt me."
"Very well," Gael agreed in an instant. "So long as I stand, none shall pass!"
The duo tromped through the fields of poisoned flowers until they reached the spot the spirit had been shattered at. Gael uncapped the sheath of his blade and began to extract it as Alchemist, instead, removed an absurdly large sapphire from a pocket that was most certainly too small to have contained it.
When the wizard held it aloft in the air upon one hand and held a much smaller diamond in his other, something about the air began to shift and change. The yellow gem on his right gauntlet glowed and figments appeared momentarily in the air, images of the woman from before as she comforted her Einherjar. As she helped them seek vengeance or find succor.
"What is this?" Gael asked, taking in the sight of the Valkyrie doing battle with an old, hardened mage inside of a great temple. "What are these visions?"
"Lenneth's memories," Alchemist explained as some of the nearby clouds of sight and sound were drawn into the sapphire. It began to softly glow with an inner light as more and more was drawn into it whilst the diamond instead turned to black dust. "Her soul lingers here. This is the only time, without time-travel tomfoolery, that all three pieces of Valkyrie are present on the mortal plane. Lenneth's soul, here. Hrist, within her body and, inside of Brahm's castle, Silmeria is trapped within crystal and beyond the reach of Odin."
"Here, we change the story," Alchemist's words carried a measure of certainty that filled Gael with determination. "Here, we break the chains of stolen Fate!"
-----
Lezard Valeth observed the remains of his work. The man was a brilliant sorcerer, a peerless alchemist and, when the mood struck him, a necromancer beyond compare!
So seeing much of his work left shattered and rotting within his lab left him feeling... a touch irked. Lenneth Valkyrie had found her way to him, drawn by the intentional murder of Lezard's former teacher, Lorenta. The sorceress had been a wonderful gift for the Valkyrie, a powerful mage practically wrapped and ready to be forced into servitude as an Einherjar!
Obviously, the bodies Lezard had made weren't up to the Valkyrie's standards. He was going to have to get back to work, make them better. Better able to mirror his love's beautiful visage!
Stepping around the destruction Lenneth had left in her wake, Lezard felt an odd chill. Pressing his glasses further up his nose, the necromancer stopped and place to look around himself.
Shattered glass, rotting corpses forged from Elf flesh, inert alchemic fluids spreading across the grounds...
Lezard slowly turned in place, listening to his instincts.
Something was wrong... someone else had been casting magic. Someone else had broken into his sanctum!
Placing one hand on the tank containing the mock-body he'd based the others off of, Lezard looked around. He couldn't pinpoint the location but he could feel an enchantment somewhere within his lab...
The madman's eyes locked on to one of his failures, a homonculus that failed to mature out of its childhood. He'd never quite been able to determine the cause but he'd allowed it to remain, a curiosity more than anything else.
Was that the source? He knew that none of his followers would dare try to tamper with his progress, but-
"'Scuze me, pardon me, coming through-" a new voice called in his sanctum. A man in black armor stepped out from behind a ruined container and walked directly towards Lezard. Stopping in front of him, the interloper tilted their head just slightly to the side. "Do you mind? I need to get around you."
"You fool!" Lezard shouted at the armored man. Their presence here was impossible, especially as Lezard could feel no magic coming from them. "Do you have any idea who I-"
Lezard was rather abruptly cut off when a gauntleted fist slammed into the side of his jaw. The mage flew to the side, rolling and twisting through the muck and mire of his lab until he came to a halt against the far wall. The mage tried to stand up, one hand on the wall-
When a pair of gauntlets wrapped around his throat, lifting his struggling form against the wall.
"Yes, murderer," the armored man said as Lezard felt magic wrap around him, sealing away his own spells and enchantments. With his glasses askew, Lezard could barely make out the faceless visage of the helmet of his attacker but he could hear the raw disdain in his voice. "And I know what you would do if left to your own devices. Even now the future is in motion-"
Lezard had tampered with his own soul, testing dark and terrible magics that would loosen the tether between it and his body. Spells that would better allow him to possess others, to better move to a freshly built homonculus.
So when he felt a curse settle upon his very soul?
Lezard's struggling grew very, very still as he looked at his attacker with raw, unfiltered fear.
"-and you will not be the one to determine where it will go!"
Lezard heard a swift *Crack!* before his assaulter dropped him to the ground. Trying to move, trying to get up, Lezard's limbs did not move. He tried to shout and call for help but, though he felt his jaw moving, no sound came out.
He could only watch on in petrified silence as the armored mage walked up to the test body and-
The man dispelled the magic over the tube and Lezard's eyes widened. It hadn't been a test body or model or anything else of the sort! It had been one of his perfected homonculi, enchanted and ensorcelled so that Lezard, nay, all others would simply pay it no mind!
When?!
When had the mage had the time?! When had his lab been broken into!?
The necromancer wanted to rage, to scream in fury at the violation!
Lezard's killer placed one hand against the tube before turning back to look at him. Lezard could imagine their eyes meeting his own, he could imagine-
The necromancer felt a moment of confusion within his pain as the mage raised a device, almost like a crossbow with no bow, and pointed the tube of it directly at him.
The silenced wizard did not even have a chance to try and scream before his world went black.
-----
Hrist, the current Valkyrie, flew at speed to the castle of the Vampire King. She knew not why Lenneth left Silmeria in the traitor's clutches but she would correct that oversight.
Whatever weakness filled her heart, whatever Lenneth had done to press Odin into using his Sovereign's Rite, Hrist could not know.
She dared not so much as try and guess. The Aesir needed a Valkyrie and it would take many, many long years for Lenneth to reconstitute herself enough to be embodied once more. With Silmeria trapped, that duty fell to Hrist. And should Hrist fail...
A shudder of unease traveled through Hrist's heart and down her spine.
She would not fail. She would not falter! Odin would see no need to replace her, she swore it so!
Tearing into Brahm's castle, Hrist readied the sword Lenneth had left to her and began her assault. Vampires and demons alike fell before her, their elders and the succubi quickly following them to the depths of Hel.
She swiftly made her way into the darkened throne room of Brahms, the crystal that held Silmeria drifted overhead, casting the room in a curious blue light.
"Traitor!" she declared, holding her blade out and ready.
"...Hrist," Brahms replied, by his tone she would think he were rather bored. The man sat upon his throne, his chin resting upon his palm and his wine-red eyes looking into her own with...
Pity.
"It would seem I'm rather popular of late," the vampire king continued as Hrist slowly approached. "A traveling mage and his companion, Lenneth and her cohort. What business would you have with me that Lenneth did not?"
"You know why I am here, traitor!" Hrist narrowed her eyes in preparation as she crept closer and closer under the dim light of the hanging crystal. "Your very existence is a stain upon the honor of Asgard!"
"...Honor is earned, Valkyrie," Brahms tiredly stated. "You and the others might proclaim yourselves righteous and just as much you wish. It will not change the truth of your actions."
The woman stopped, rage burning in her heart as she heard people approaching from behind. Keeping her blade raised as she turned, she found only the worthless Einherjar that Lenneth had kept with her. The current incarnation of her once-loyal Arngrim and some woman that Hrist could not be bothered to remember.
"Hrist!" Arngrim shouted upon seeing her, well out of breath. Even his growing constitution as his spiritual form approached that of the least among the Aesir had not been enough to keep apace with her, it seemed.
Still, it was most curious that he was even here. She ought have left him half a continent behind...
Hrist's dark eyes slipped from the warrior to the mage, certain that she was to blame.
"The confrontation between Hrist and I is fated," Brahms said as he stood from his throne. "But what are you lot doing here?"
"Valkyrie was burdened by a false-" Arngrim began to say before he was interrupted by the sound of clapping.
A man in black armor and another in a red cloak stepped into the room, side by side. One bore a strange black case upon his back, magic radiating from it like a flame. The other bore a spear, black as night but familiar in shape. An echo of the false Gungnir that Odin carried into battle before rising to his place as king of the gods and taking the true Gungnir in hand.
Unlike the weapon wielded by his crimson cloaked companion, the spear was truly void of anything. It felt as though a hole had been cleaved into the world, shaped as a weapon and carried by the man in black!
"You'll find your explanation lost upon these two, ghost," the man in black said, slowly clapping as he entered the room. "Still, I applaud you for trying."
Hrist readied her weapon as the man in red unsealed his sheath and extracted-
The burning blade, Infernas?!
How did the man wield a weapon that could burn even Surt himself?!
"...Mage," Brahms greeted the man before his crimson gaze slid over the assembled groups with a loud sigh. "It grows crowded, here."
"I care not what business brings you here!" Hrist declared, frustration in her voice. "But I will not be turned away! I will have justice, Brahms!"
"Oh?" the man in black said as he reached into his blue surcoat and extracted an overlarge sapphire-
Hrist froze as she saw it. She felt it, she felt the presence of Lenneth within!
"But we've a reunion, of sorts." The man chuckled darkly as he stowed the crystal away once more. "All three Valkyries! In one room, even!"
"Who are you?!" Arngrim shouted, drawing his great blade. "What have you done with the Valkyrie?!"
"Gael?" The man said, addressing the ancient warrior in red next to him. "Keep the ghosts busy, would you? Hrist and I have business to attend to."
"As I live..." the ancient man's voice carried with it a promise. Certainty filled every syllable. "There is no evil that will stand!"
Hrist clutched her blade in both hands as Arngrim tore after the duo, raising his greatsword in a heavy, overhanded chop. It struck nothing, the man in black armor simply disappeared whilst the red-cloaked warrior rolled by him, bringing the Infernas up into a strike that Arngrim barely blocked with his gauntleted arm.
And then, impossibly, Arngrim was knocked back by an invisible blow.
Hrist barely had time to process the strange sight before her instincts screamed at her, forcing her to dodge to the side as the point of the black spear ripped through the space she'd just occupied.
She lunged back, her blade coming in low to strike at the black knight's side. The man interposed the shaft of his spear in the way, catching Hrist in a deadlock.
"Who are you?!" she demanded, pushing with all her might. The knight slid back but he did not break his stance. "What have you done to Lenneth!"
"The same I'll do to you-" the man twisted, forcing Hrist's sword to the side and slapping her in the face with the shaft of his spear. She danced back and away from him. "-kinslayer."
The Valkyrie felt her heart skip a beat before it began to pump fury into her veins.
"It shall be engraved upon your very soul! Divine Assault-" Hrist declared as she launched herself at the man. Her blade struck at him, each time slamming into his spear. Each time, a part of her noticed that his footing was more certain, that he was deflecting more and more of the force of her blows instead of absorbing it. Calling upon the magics embedded into her very being, a series of phantasmal spears were summoned into existence. The man struggled harder to deflect them, keeping his attention as crimson wings grew from Hrist's back and lifted her into the air. Motes of bloody light flew from her wings and into her hand, forming a phantasmal copy of the knight's own spear. She twisted the great weapon about as she named her magics. "Nibelung Valesti!"
Flames wreathed the spear, forming a majestic bird as she launched the great weapon at the bound knight!
But it did not land.
From the shadows of the room, a dark chill filled the air and another spear, black but for a head of violet light lanced forth and knocked Hrist's spectral weapon aside.
"...No!" Brahms declared as Hrist landed on the ground. "You cannot be here!"
A haunting clop filled the air, followed by another and then another as a warrior in black armor with a bronze, antlered mask rode a massive war-horse out of the darkness.
"And yet?" Hrist dropped to one knee, her head bowed in supplication as the man upon the six-legged horse spoke. "I am."
The fighting elsewhere in the room stopped, Arngrim and the sorceress barely holding on as the red-hooded warrior fought the both together with practiced ease.
"Rise, Valkyrie," the specter said as Brahms once again stood from his throne. "Rise and let me look upon the fruits of my weakness."
Hrist did as she was bade and looked up as she heard the rider dismount from his horse.
The form of it was wrong-wrong-wrong-wrong-wrong but she knew this feeling. Even if the shape was not right, she knew what it felt like to stand before Odin, King of the Aesir!
Hrist looked up. She looked into the lone, crimson eye that stared out at her from behind the bronze mask. The regretful gaze as-
Pain tore through her chest!
Hrist looked down dumbly and found the head of the knight's black spear had torn through her armor.
"I am so sorry, my Valkyrie," Odin told her, regret clear in his voice. "But this will be made right. This, as your king, I swear to you."
"No..." Hrist weakly cried as she felt the black knight work his wicked magics upon her. "I cannot... fail..."
"Sleep, Hrist," Odin's calm voice did little to soothe the pain of her failure. "And soon you will awaken, who-"
Hrist's eyes closed, the pain faded away as she drifted into a dark, dreamless sleep.
-----
Alchemist's arms were killing him as he wished Hrist's dying form away with Trap the Soul. The gemstone he'd prepared for her, an especially large ruby, shone with an internal glow as the fragmentary soul was swallowed into it.
The goddess hit like a freight train and it had been all that he could do just to keep up without resorting to his buffing spells. Each parried strike had felt a bit smoother, at least.
Then the witch had pulled out her finisher. Stuck as he was between everything else she'd thrown at him, he would've either had to eat it and pray or else teleport out of the way. An option that wasn't especially feasible given that Gael had been fighting with Lenneth's party behind him.
Odin... Alchemist had summoned the god's avatar before the fight had even begun. That the dark god had chosen to linger in the shadows wasn't exactly part of any plan but, being brutally honest, Alchemist's plans all revolved around what was going on outside of combat.
"I will not stand for this!" Brahms shouted, his fists clenched hard enough to draw blood.
"Then sit," Alchemist told the man as he turned around to face him. "I've yet still one more Valkyrie to claim."
Arngrim, Mystina and Brahms alike all looked up as Alchemist pointed towards the ceiling. To the crystal in which Silmeria was entombed. Gael, well aware of what was going on, clung to his blade as he held it ready.
"You'll not touch her!" Arngrim shouted, his sword held out and ready to strike. "Whatever your plans, you won't be allowed to succeed!"
"Hurry, Champion," Odin growled as he reseated himself upon Sleipner. "You've drawn the eyes of my second."
Alchemist locked his eyes upon Brahms's own as he activated his inventory and withdrew a homonculus, one he'd dressed in gleaming armor, made of Zenithium and forged by his own hand.
"My plans?" Alchemist asked as he snapped his fingers and teleported the crystal containing Silmeria down from its post as the chandelier in the room. Brahms lunged, claws outstretched only to run face-first into a Wall of Force. "You've done a fantastic job keeping Silmeria safe, just as she did you..."
Holding the sapphire containing Lenneth in his right hand and the ruby containing Hrist in his left, Alchemist fused them both together with the giant crystal holding Silmeria. The soul within shone with a brilliant light, the power it now held dwarfing all others in the room-
"But it's time for the Valkyries to sleep eternal, restored once more to their true self!" Placing one hand on the massive crystal, already cracking as it struggled to contain the true soul of Valkyrie, Alchemist fused it into the homonculus he'd stolen and then further empowered.
The woman, the completed soul restored from its broken fragments, opened her eyes. She stared unblinking at the black knight-
And then she opened her mouth and screamed. Light and noise filled the room, a literal force that shattered through the defenses Alchemist had emplaced and sent everyone else flying into the walls. Even Odin, faced with such Light against his Darkness, dispelled rather than struggle against it.
Alchemist, unfortunately, had no such luxury. His job was not yet done.
Standing up, he pushed himself forward against the waves of force that threatened to once-again topple him. He pressed onward, one hand shielding his face against the blinding light. Each step was a struggle, each step demanded more from him than the last.
He refused to falter, however.
The true Valkyrie had been restored, yes, but the force that once sundered her could do so again. Alchemist had taken the time to refine the Gem of Creation into the Jewel of Creation and fused both into a simple ring. Fused them together alongside a spell that would safeguard the Valkyrie, the goddess of Fate.
~~ Ring of the True Soul ~~
~~ Transmutation costs -50%, Conversion costs -50%, ignore the first 3,500 GP of material costs, The wearer is immune to effects that target souls or that would be foiled by a nondetection spell. If the wearer is slain, she cannot be restored to life by magic (save by a miracle, wish, or divine intervention) until the ring is removed. ~~
Once the light reached a level of intensity that Alchemist was fully blinded by it, he reached out towards where he thought the screaming woman's arm was. He missed, hitting her hip, but he found her arm on the second try.
As he fumbled for the ring, slipping it on to the index finger of her right hand, Alchemist was left wondering...
Did the woman even need to breathe?
"What trickery is this?!" a new voice shouted from overhead from someone that Alchemist couldn't see.
His entire world was white and loud. He'd barely heard the newcomer at all.
"The Valkyrie is unsealed?! Impossible!" the person, a woman shouted as the Valkyrie's screams began to fade. Alchemist's world went from white to green with black spots that were quickly giving way back to his actual vision. "This affront cannot go unpunished!"
Overhead, a woman in a green skirt and jacket with a jaunty little green cap came into view.
Freya.
Who was in the middle of charging her Ether Blast, an absolutely massive ball of aspected mana, an attack that Alchemist was sure he could survive being struck by...
Once.
But that he really did not wish to test.
"...Nope," Alchemist said, grabbing the insensate goddess and teleporting back towards the wall once Freya flung her massive magical orb down at them.
"Freya!" Brahms shouted as the floor of his throne room collapsed. Dust and mortar choked out the air and rendered what little light was in the room ever darker. "You would dare attack me, in my own sanctum!?"
"This blasphemy cannot go unpunished!" Freya shouted, giving away her position. "So long as you lingered within your castle, traitor, we were content to leave well enough alone! Now, however?"
The dust began to settle as, overhead, Freya held an even larger orb of energy above her.
"Now you shall perish!"
Alchemist knew he couldn't take Freya in a straight fight. Not without causing so much collateral damage that it just wasn't worth the effort.
He could leave. Right now, if he so wished. The quest he'd accepted only demanded that he steal Lezard's Flask, the one he'd successfully crafted his Philosopher's Stone in. It would offer up a twenty point bonus to all Alchemy checks.
He'd already absconded with Lezard's libraries. Every book in every nook was Alchemist's now.
But he'd set into motion a significant enough change and the actors he'd empowered were directly at risk of annihilation. If Valkyrie fell, the world would fall.
So, Alchemist lingered. If he couldn't take Freya in a straight fight?
He wouldn't.
Snapping his fingers as Freya threw her Ether Blast, Alchemist cast Teleport.
On Freya.
"What?" the woman demanded, stark confusion in her voice as she was moved only a handful of meters. She turned around in the air as light descended upon her and came face to face with her own Ether Blast. "What- No!"
The orb exploded upon impact, sending Freya slamming down into the ruined floor below.
"Hey, Brahms!" Alchemist shouted as he leaned down to check on Valkyrie. The woman wasn't responsive, not yet, but her eyes were tracking. She was getting there. "You think you could take her?"
She just needed time to adjust to her new body, filled with new potential.
"Maybe!" the vampire shouted from across the room. "It'd be close, though!"
That was about what Alchemist figured. And it was something that Alchemist could change.
He snapped his fingers once, Berserk. He snapped his fingers a second time, Protect. He snapped his fingers a third time, Haste, and he was done.
As Brahms tore off, faster than Alchemist could see and aimed straight towards Freya.
"Valkyrie," Alchemist said softly as he leaned down until he was eye to eye with the woman. He didn't know her true name. He could guess but he doubted it would matter. "Loki has stolen the Dragon Orb and slain your friend and failed savior, Lucian."
The woman's eyes, once dull, sharpened into immediate focus upon his saying that last name.
"Only you can do something," Alchemist explained as his duplicate began scouring Lezard's tower for his Alchemy equipment. "But that will be up to you. No one else can make this choice for you. No one else can choose your fate."
The mage stood up and began to make his way towards Gael, the old beast was struggling to stand and was actually clutching a wall for support.
Alchemist felt about the same. His arms hurt, his back hurt and his legs were killing him. Just because he could keep getting back up after getting thrown into a wall did not mean, at any level, that he actually enjoyed it.
"...Who are you?" the Valkyrie called as Alchemist made his way around the hole in which Brahms and Freya did battle. "You've no fate. Who are you!?"
"@**&@%$#%, Alchemist, Alec Mist," Alchemist said aloud as he reached down to help Gael stand upright. He couldn't see Arngrim or Mystina at all. "You might know me as 'A', though."
Hopefully they were fine. Alchemist had some fun playing the bad guy, tweaking Lenneth's nose at every turn he could but... it was time to go home.
"Farewell, Valkyrie," Alchemist said in the woman's direction as he helped Gael stand up straight. In Lezard's tower, he'd just found the man's private Alchemy lab. "Make sure your future is bright, alright?"
The woman opened her mouth to speak but Alchemist couldn't make it out over the sound of Freya's screams ripping from the floor below.
With a wave of his free hand, Alchemist inventoried Lezard's equipment-
And disappeared with a loud, obnoxious 'Pop!'
A brief summary of Valkyrie Profile-
Makeshift psychopomp Lenneth is running around scavenging battlefields for souls to send to Asgard to fight in the war of Ragnarok. Which Odin caused by being a thief and stealing most of the treasures that kept the various realms operating reasonably well.
Except Lenneth is actually one-third of the soul to a goddess of fate that can challenge Odin.
She eventually remembers bits and pieces of her past which causes Odin to magically put her to sleep so a different third can pilot the body but things don't go right. In the game, some of the lingering souls will go to the necromancer that Al put down and have him put the decaying pieces of Lenneth's soul into a half-elf body. This unlocks some of her hidden power.
Meanwhile, in Asgard, Loki has stolen one of those treasures that Odin made off with and is using it to fuck around and burn the worlds down. Lenneth goes up to fight him and unlocks a greater height to her native transmutation powers, ascending her to the role of Lenneth the Creator.
Cue credits and then the post-game dungeon.
Valkyrie Profile 2 doesn't matter here since Lezard got ganked before he could do some time travel stupidity.
Makeshift psychopomp Lenneth is running around scavenging battlefields for souls to send to Asgard to fight in the war of Ragnarok. Which Odin caused by being a thief and stealing most of the treasures that kept the various realms operating reasonably well.
Except Lenneth is actually one-third of the soul to a goddess of fate that can challenge Odin.
She eventually remembers bits and pieces of her past which causes Odin to magically put her to sleep so a different third can pilot the body but things don't go right. In the game, some of the lingering souls will go to the necromancer that Al put down and have him put the decaying pieces of Lenneth's soul into a half-elf body. This unlocks some of her hidden power.
Meanwhile, in Asgard, Loki has stolen one of those treasures that Odin made off with and is using it to fuck around and burn the worlds down. Lenneth goes up to fight him and unlocks a greater height to her native transmutation powers, ascending her to the role of Lenneth the Creator.
Cue credits and then the post-game dungeon.
Valkyrie Profile 2 doesn't matter here since Lezard got ganked before he could do some time travel stupidity.
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QUESTION:
Does the Belt of Ashen Growth's "weapon mastery bonus" apply to firing a starship's weapon systems?
While wearing the Belt of Ashen Growth, Alchemist could take the Harlock out to the Oort Cloud for some target practice. It'd be smart to NOT do target practice in the Asteroid Belt between Mars and Jupiter, as being too close to Earth risks observation by the Light and the Justice League.
Scene:
Al: (firing the Harlock's weapons)
Al: "Pew! Pew! Pew!"
Jinx: (rolls eyes)
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d7rgHrXqtnc
- Location
- Elsewhere
Flirty notes
Gifts
And even a proposal!?
Alchemist is finally in love!
clonezero
Is it a bad thing if my t read list keeps growing?
Talk about speed running Valkyrie Profile! Wonder when will we see Gael be part of the adventures again. Maybe he tattles to the other Souls warriors and they start pestering Al for jaunts of their own.
Wonder where would be a good place to bring the Nameless King.
Wonder where would be a good place to bring the Nameless King.
- Location
- Ohio
So Brahms basically said he could, but it would be close. As in that he wouldn't get out of it without severe damage and likely being very weak, if not mortally injured.
Then Alchemist decided to cast three spells that shifted the odds to favor Brahms...by a lot, as in he could actually win with maybe some scuffs on his boots. Freya is going to have a terrible time with his strength, durability, and speed boosted...well he went from a near match for her, to where it was more like Ryu vs Dan Hibiki in a death match.
And Ryu can stomp Dan pretty handily...
Then Alchemist decided to cast three spells that shifted the odds to favor Brahms...by a lot, as in he could actually win with maybe some scuffs on his boots. Freya is going to have a terrible time with his strength, durability, and speed boosted...well he went from a near match for her, to where it was more like Ryu vs Dan Hibiki in a death match.
And Ryu can stomp Dan pretty handily...
Red_Faux
私を終わらせる
- Location
- 'Straya M8
Alive don't mean concious. So they could be signs, but also might not be, depending on if the practitioner was just a sadist or actually wanted to learn something only possible with them alive.
Going through another reread: Alchemist should remember mundane utility. His push mower, for example: He should enchant the blades to be sharper and stay clean and such, and Merciful (+1d6 but nonlethal, mowing the lawn doesn't kill the grass but it makes it safer to use). That way mowing would be a lot less annoying.
Lycanthromancer
The Arcane Fuzz
- Location
- USA
That would just bruise the grass, not cut it.
- Location
- Whadjuk Noongar boodja
Don't let Kary hear you say that! You might live to regret it, but more likely you would just very, very briefly regret it a whole lot.