• Closed • Into The Deep (Graded)

[Patrick]

Oberan's remarks weren't so much as ignored as they were barely reacted to, for he would (and did) feel something housed within now. An entity as ancient as the Guardian however left much in the dark at this point, as the powerful spirit remained intensely silent while the fight began. The real trouble was with the few remaining guards on hand being the focus of the undead's attention, since they remained easy unaware targets in the sudden battle. Patrick's first target had been one out of three that ran towards him, teeth snapping as the feral ghoul hissed and lunged his way. The Rharnian's eyes widened for a moment but after that focus locked them onto the creature, and he made sure to grip the hilt of his sword firmly as he timed a swing.

With a cross-over from his right the blade whipped through the air as it's edge reached pruned skin, his aim timed well enough to hack into the thrall's neck as it closed in. The sword vibrated from the hit and a crunch nearly sickened his stomach in turn, as the blade only managed to cut halfway through the neck where the spine remained. Weakened but still somehow very lively the undead soldier hissed further as it dropped onto it's knees, while the others started to close in on Patrick as he struggled to free the sword. "Fucking dammit!"

Just as he cursed being in this situation Peleus stormed in like the lunatic of a warrior he had to be, a few hard punches knocked one of the two back while the Turkey used his feet and body as well. How on Idalos one man could face ghastly things like this empty handed baffled Patrick honestly, but he respected the fight or flight nature enough to appreciate not being food for the undead. With a boot lifted to kick at the face of the thrall he struggled with, the Rharnian finally released his sword from the neck of the monster; and then jabbed it into a thrust to stab the thrall where the heart should've been.

Right as his sword pierced the chest cavity Patrick heard the creature shriek in pain, his loose head still chomping at air as it tried to grab the blade. "You've got to be kidding me!" He bellowed as his arms yanked to try and pull the sword once more, with a look of fear in his eyes as killing these things already started to seem impossible. Sure enough Crowley and Ellen lent their fire support with arrows and bolts, the both of them hitting targets with enough fierceness to knock down any undead they hit. But no matter what the creatures didn't seem to relent, each time a thrall should've been extinguished they merely rose up again.

And Oberan's attempt to use his Godkey remained another failure, something that perplexed Patrick from the first moment he glimpsed it's occurrence. The one man who could open any lock in the world, suddenly no longer able to do that the moment they reached Orimar's gate? Something was clearly wrong about this place now and they should've paid mind to that, then again there was little choice once Raimeus and his entire entourage showed up. "To dust you return!!" What on Idalos was that?! While Oberan knew first hand what had been said, everyone else in the vicinity didn't hear but feel something pulsate from the Mortalborn.

A pressure filled the air and for a minute a glow emanated from Oberan himself, and sure enough the words of the Guardian became action on behalf of the rest. The undead thralls suddenly froze as the air grew stiff, and with another pulse the glow around Oberan dispersed. The highlights of blue throughout the thralls suddenly brightened, until suddenly each and every thrall combusted spontaneously right before everyone's very eyes. Each and every thrall fell onto their knees in silence as their bodies burned, as though whatever fueled their undead existence burned it's way out their carcasses. Patrick even managed to free his sword yet again thanks to the lack of struggle, and just like that all fourteen of their problems were now a crisp.

"What... the hell was that?!" Crowley called out with Pat's crossbow still in hand, the sleeves of his jacket torn and slightly bloody from the skirmish.

"Oberan, did you cause that?!" Patrick had never seen the man use magic like that before, opening locked things sure but setting fire to the undead? Whatever explanation the Mortalborn decided to share had to be brief, as another high pitched shriek filled the caverns and it sounded relatively close this time. "We need to find Finn and get the fuck outta here!" With a look back over to Peleus who still had the chains on him.... Godkey wasn't working and he seemed to mention the Guardian earlier. That had to mean he managed to get the Guardian to help them out now, even though it prevented him from using his other powers at the moment. "Here, hold out your hands and spread them apart Peleus."

The Turkey seemed a little leery about it, but after Patrick insisted a "Trust me," he seemed willing enough to try. In all honesty Patrick had never done anything like this before, but he figured if he hit it hard enough he'd break the chain between the cuffs. Thus once Peleus stood with arms as far apart as the cuffs allowed, Patrick raised the sword and held it as far back as he could. He needed to hit the chain, he reminded himself, hit it hard enough to break it with the blade. He started to pull but hesitated and exhaled nervously, which made Peleus tense anxiously with eyes closed and his face pointed away. "Don't miss." Patrick quietly cheered to himself as he swallowed hard, another deep breath inhaled briefly before he made the pull from overhead. With the weight of his sword combined with the force of the blow, Patrick directed as much power as he could into that swing.

Ka-ting.

The entire blade rattled which stung his hands in turn but it produced a favorable result, as the metal cut through the chain the moment Peleus' wrists resisted the force. Both looked wide eyed at the impossible chances of success that had to have, and relieved in knowing that they had another pair of hands free for the cause. While that happened Oberan would hear a distant and quiet voice from the direction he came from.

"Scents peculiar I smell, eve's dinner flesh shall be!" It sounded old and quakey, almost like they'd choked on a mouthful of sand. For everyone else though it slipped by unnoticed for the moment, as they all had their gear to retrieve before they could head off after Raimeus, Kleo, and Finn.

"Short with time Half-born, closer now they are. Hurry..." Though his presence still remained consistent, the voice of the Guardian felt fainter to Oberan now.

Off Topic

Round 3!
All thralls have been extinguished thanks to Oberan inciting the Guardian to use its power! Everyone's chance to grab their gear is now, as the bigger threat is literally upon them. Statistics time! 360 was the last number of volunteers alive a couple rounds ago, there are now 316 with their numbers dwindling fast! Some are making a run for the exit sure enough, but a great many more are dying from the denizens lurking in Orimar.

Apologies to Gangui for missing the turn, but Peleus is now free as a result of the fight! Oberan you'll find that a slight amount of your powers are returning, as the Guardian seems to be slowly weakening now. Feel free to 'gear up' in your next post before we head towards the sanctum where Finn is located.

I'll be posting again the night of Saturday, April 20th, so that leaves another week for everyone to get a post in this round.

[Oberan]

The voice of the Guardian reverberated through the whole of his body, the words as easily understood as the Common tongue. Power flowed from the spot the Orimatsun deity occupied, coursing through his being and filling it to the brim. It made its way through the layers and layers, a white-hot searing flash of raw energy that built and built, waiting just underneath his skin for a moment or two, until there was enough to be released all at once.

Oberan’s body released an omnidirectional pressure wave, freezing all of the ghouls in their tracks, and the mortalborn noticed he was emitting an unnatural glow. Whatever it was the Guardian was doing seemed to resonate with him –perhaps it was his divine blood, or perhaps this was normal for anyone possessed by the Guardian, who could say for sure?

He wanted to say something dramatic, some cheesy line worthy of a play, but all he managed to utter was just a surprised swear. With that, his moment passed, his body released a wave of power, letting go of all that had built up underneath his skin. His glow vanished, transferred to all undead shambling about, their blue highlights shining brighter and brighter until they erupted in a flame just as blue, falling to their knees.

Just like that.

Patrick and the others were slack jawed, as was to be expected when faced with such a display of power. To be honest, Oberan was just as awed as they were.

“No, that wasn’t me,” he responded turning towards the camp’s entrance, keeping an eye out for more of those undead creepers. None seemed to be coming at the moment, and the mortalborn took a moment to fish his thieves’ tools from a pouch on his belt. The God Key wasn’t in working order at the moment, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still get rid of those chains—

The sound of metal cleaving though metal tortured the ears of all those around, and the rattling chain was now two.

Oh well, maybe next time then. Oberan slipped the tools back into a pocket, shrugging a little.

And then immediately froze and found shivers running down bis spine as a new voice reached his ears. As far as the mortalborn could tell, the voice sounded just as ancient as the Guardian’s. Not a good sign at all. The hurried prompting of the latter really didn’t ease his fears either.

“Shit, can’t you do someth—” he began, cutting himself off halfway. The voice of the Guardian was weaker. Faded. His presence was still strong, but the mortalborn guessed that he didn’t have much power left to be of much help. One would think that a being such as it would not have burnt through all its power just by crisping a dozen undead… unless it had dealt with all undead present in the ruins. That, and undoing the God Key’s effect. Yes, that would make sense.

Some of his abilities seemed to be returning. There was a glimmer of the connection he was used to. A muffled, dulled sensation, but it was familiar nonetheless. He felt very conflicted about it. Yes to powers, no to a weak Guardian when they needed its help.

“We have to hurry guys! Something big and powerful is coming, and I do not want to be here when it arrives! I think the Guardian cannot stop it, so we’re in deep trouble if we dally!”

He looked at Patrick, wanting directions. Personally he wanted to just dash out of these cursed ruins, but he didn’t doubt that Patrick would refuse to leave Finn behind when he was the one to drag him into this mess in the first place. Oberan didn’t particularly feel like sacrificing the boy so they could escape, even though it would be the sensible thing to do. He liked being alive, but crushing guilt and nightmares he did not.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This was moronic. Downright disturbingly dumb.

“Do you know what’s coming? What is it capable of? Can it stop my powers like you can? Don’t block my powers, by the way. I feel like I will need them. Or at least let me use my trump card at full power.”

It may just be all they had in terms of a lifeline. An unpredictable one, but a lifeline nonetheless.

[Patrick]

The only real explanation for what happened between Oberan and the undead seemed to be the Guardian, which to Patrick sounded wildly outrageous since he'd been under the impression that it was just a figure. An entity that didn't really exist, or if it did certainly shouldn't have anymore since the people of these ruins didn't. Then again they hadn't any clues as to what really happened here, and what exactly lingered within the bones of this ancient city. But Oberan on the other hand? He'd managed to attract the attention of something beyond amazing, which wasn't something the group certainly failed to notice.

Everyone rummaged for gear as men of the expedition seemed to run about in scattered drones, clearly just as eager to leave as the group was even before they saw the burnt corpses in the area. Thankfully none seemed to stop and question the group there, as their lives were far too important to waste time on the lot. Quite honestly Patrick didn't mind that as he new the mass amount of workers were only volunteers, while the mercs that protected Raimeus were just as likely on the verge of dipping out. Well... the ones left alive anyways, even then there was no guarantee they'd all escape.

The Guardian remained silent when Oberan seemed intent to ask if anything can be done, he knew the danger that loomed somewhere nearby and also noticed another fact. The Guardian had weakened somehow even after what could've been a minor display in power, which meant Oberan's new friend wasn't so mighty as he projected earlier. It seemed rather likely that a multitude of reasons could've weighed in on this, and sure enough the raspy voice of their monster quieted as though it grew further distant from them. Oberan's warning that something was on its way didn't fall on deaf ears, as the look on Patrick and everyone else's face changed once more... once another shriek pierced the air as more men screamed at their demise.

"He's right," The Rharnian quickly agreed as he finished strapping his sword to his waist, "Finn's waiting and the longer we wait, the less of Raimeus' men we have to distract whatever the fek that thing is!"

"The Promised were they, until Ascension did they go wrong..." The Guardian sounded more softer to Oberan, also distant as though he were in another room. "Leave you must I, to temple must you hurry!" Strange that the Guardian wanted them to go there, when Finn had to be there with Raimeus and Kleo as well. Even so the immensity of pressure Oberan felt inhabit him swiftly lightened, until he felt completely himself again with no residual connection to the entity.

"Okay, everybody all set?" Patrick called out with a inspectful glance shot to each individual member there, everyone gathered seemed to have all their gear; therefore they were all ready to save Finn and get the hell out of there. "Alright let's go be... fore..." What was that noise?

Click. Click. Click. Click.

It came from the south end of the camp as others ran through, with a soft hiss heard as that god awful smell Oberan whiffed earlier filled the area.

More screams were heard from the repository area as several shrieks seemed to claw at the air, and then finally out of the shadows the first of what hunted the expedition stepped. Terrorized screams came from those who'd were beyond the camps boundaries, as their hopes of making a break for the exit became halted. In the middle of the street stood a monster that was the stuff of nightmares, a cross breed of a woman and spider blocked the runners from their way out. With a eerie snarl of hunger the creature hung her jaw as low as it could go to reveal her maw, which was filled with row after row of razor sharp teeth as blood already drizzled from mouth to body.

Immediately the creature took to pounce on her first victims, as the men quickly turned tail to run back towards the encampment. Patrick as well as his group likely beheld mixed reactions, but it was easy for the Rharnian to admit he was horribly awed by the grotesque monster they'd seen. "Fucking RUN!" He barked aloud as he didn't waste any time in bolting, since the others would've followed unless they wanted to stick around and fight. He'd counted on Peleus being the one to do it, but with a glance past his shoulder Patrick noticed he'd tagged along. The man had a smart sense of survival after all!

As soon as Patrick reached the northern part of the camp where the path diverged, a look to the left revealed another horrid monstrosity of the feminine form. A two-faced humanoid creature with eyes alit in a brilliant red slowly approached, with multiple arms slowly flourishing about and the lower half her legs the pair of a goat's feet. "Va'ak ti shrul maal!!" She seemed to screech as she bent down, her lips twisted into gnarly grins as forked tongues slithered out.

Patrick's face paled at the sight of her, and with a shove for the others to move; he ushered them to move right to cross the tattered bridge. "Go GO!!" As they moved and the rest of those who sought escape just about followed, they found themselves trapped and closed in the camp by these two creatures... Moments after more blood-curdling screams filled the air as the group moved, and they now had an idea of what exactly haunted these ancient ruins.

Off Topic

Round 4
Doing good so far Oberan! The Guardian has left his presence entirely so that means his powers are back in full! And now we have two (technically three) faces to place on our real enemies! We're close to revealing the ancient secret next, hope you're as excited as I am about it. While I'm pretty sure I know how this is ending, I can't wait to see how you affect the turnout of this event.

Statistics time! 316 was the number we left off last round correct? We just now dropped down to 288 men of the expedition, still not counting our five or six of the group, with the few stragglers that have successfully made it out in time. Boo to the poor sods who fell in that trap though.

I'll be posting again the 4th of May which is next Saturday, however since it looks to be just at this point; I'll likely post sooner depending on when you get your's in buddy.

[Oberan]

The Guardian’s presence was weakening faster now, whatever fragment of power it’d had left after nullifying the God Key was apparently only enough to destroy the undead ghouls. Holding onto the connection with the Mortalborn was no longer possible. Perhaps if Oberan’d been ordinary, the Guardian’s hold over him might have been stronger. It certainly seemed possible that the divine bloodline of Audrae’s son was utterly incompatible with whatever the nature of the Guardian was. It might have been draining just to reside within his body. Oberan didn’t know, but it did sound likely.

Not much later, the presence vanished completely, and the Mortalborn’s connection to his gifts was restored. At the cost of a valuable source of information and advice, unfortunately. Oberan couldn’t say that he enjoyed the company of the being, but at least the Guardian had been benign. He wasn’t sure if the entity would have been useful when confronted with whatever these Promised were, but if Oberan’s powers could not affect them, Patrick’s whole group would be toast. Probably.

“He said we should hurry to the temple. The Guardian, I mean,” he said, conveying the entity’s last words of advice. “We don’t have much time to waste.”

Patrick agreed, but before the group could move out, the stench of the phantom fart wafted into his nostrils once again. Screams came from behind them, almost drowning out the ominous tapping sound on the stones. From the shadows emerged a being more grotesque than anything he’d seen before. The bottom half was that of a spider (disgusting to look at), the upper half was that of a woman (quite pleasantly proportioned), but with a meatgrinder of razor-like teeth instead of a mouth. Oberan figured he’d be having nightmares featuring women and that cold-sweat-inducing maw.

He didn’t need to drain Thrill to feel adrenaline course through his veins, standing frozen stiff for a couple moments.

“Fucking RUN!” a voice commanded.

Oberan’s body kicked into gear, dashing after the group as if trying to outrun Death.

Another horrifying creature closed in from the left. Too many heads, too many arms, too many teeth. Forked tongues, goat legs, and the body of a woman. If he didn’t know any better, these creatures were the reason some men preferred the company of men. Hell, maybe he’d never recover from this sight himself, never daring to be with a woman ever again.

She –it –they screamed something in the tongue of the Guardian, but without its aid in translating, Oberan could no longer understand it. Probably something along the lines of “stay still so you can be consumed, gahaha!” or so.

They rushed across a damaged bridge, not caring about it’s feeble state. They either got away, or they didn’t. If they didn’t, they’d get eaten. If the bridge collapsed, at least they’d also be out of the monsters’ reach. Oberan glanced over his shoulder. Was the multi-armed two-headed goat-legged Promised closing in on them?

No, no she –it --they weren’t.

Patrick’s group had managed to slip past them, but a lot of others hadn’t been so fortunate. They had no choice to back up, their path cut off by the aberrations. Death had its hand on their shoulders, and Oberan could only hope they would die quickly. Albeit slow enough so Patrick and company could pick up Finn, and get the fuck out of here. Treasure be damned.

For now, Oberan kept looking over his shoulder, hoping that when the creatures decided to give chase, they wouldn’t know where they were. If they had to search for them, then Oberan and the others had some more time to get out. If not… the Mortalborn prepared to alter the fabric of reality in hopes it would buy some more precious seconds, maybe minutes. Preferably more time, but he didn’t think he’d get that lucky. Worst case scenario; nothing happened, or they wouldn’t be slowed down.

And if that failed, he still could try to sap their Thrill, but that meant getting rather close, which he’d prefer not doing at all.

[Patrick]

The group made it's way across the tattered the bridge and past the rundown streets towards what had to be some sort of ancient square, which sure enough had to be the same direction that Raimeus and Kleo had gone since nearby looked to be the temple. Not long after they had put behind them the remains of the camp the screams of those trapped died out, signifying that the aberrantly twisted monsters had finished off those caught between them. However as Patrick urged the group to press on towards the entrance of the temple, as there definitely wasn't time to admire the glowing runes and markings etched on the stone floor; rattling soon came from south of the square as something stirred from within the debris. From the tight confines found in between broken stones of a building slithered out another twisted feminine figure, a half woman with four arms and her lower half one long serpentine body; the coloration a brilliant cerulean hue as her serpent gaze locked onto them.

"Move!" The Rharnian urged once more as they hurried to reach the temple, even though Peleus seemed a little braver to fight now that there was only just one. But these things... whatever they were they obviously knew how to kill, even when they had remained hidden away beneath this mountain for so long. It then dawned on Patrick that the people who used to live here, there would've been something left behind if these monsters wrought terror upon them. Even after centuries there'd at least be something left behind, skeletal remains of some kind to say the least! But no such things were found here, just the lingering beasts that hunted the expedition.

As she undulated to slither at them with incredible speed, the group reached the stairs of the temple and ran inside. Hopefully they'd find a way to trap it, or her, without them being caught in the process. For the moment though they needed to put as much distance between her and them as possible, as the beast quickly drew close to the entrance to slither inside.... Until....

"Aaaaaaah!" The startling screech led them to halt as the sharp cry of anguish caught everyone off guard, Patrick certainly hadn't expected to see what happened for sure. The moment she'd started to slither her way into the main chamber, the serpentine abomination started to sizzle and smoke rose from her burning skin. "Varteneu skollri ma'arsh!!" She hissed fiercely as she seemed determined to chase them, but the more she tried the worse her condition became. Sure enough she retreated back towards the entrance, with another high shrill made as the abomination had no choice... but to let her prey get away.

"They must not be able to enter the temple," Patrick muttered aloud as he glanced to everyone in the group, "let's meet back up with Finn and then we'll work out an exit strategy." That is if they could actually ever come up with one, thankfully though it would seem that they appeared safe within the walls of this place. The temple must have acted as a sanctuary to keep those things out, and yet even so when Patrick looked around with the rest of the group; still not a single skeletal remain in sight. Just more crystalline tools and artifacts that laid about, as the main hall seemed to lead towards another room ahead. They could even hear voices, two men who seemed to argue as a female tried to cut in on it. "That must be where the jewel is." Not that it mattered anymore, the moment they had Finn back; Patrick intended to get his fellow treasure hunters out of here.

Thus the Rharnian led the way with Crowley to follow, as did the rest with their own pace no less. The doorway they approached led them down a dark stone corridor, and the closer they reached the antechamber where the rest were; the more noticeable were the vibrations that everyone could feel earlier. For Patrick it was different though, as he could feel whatever hummed beneath their feet... sing to the Spark within his soul. It was eerie and unsettling to experience, and while the effect was different for those with Sparks; Oberan felt something else almost entirely unnatural. Whatever or wherever the vibrations came from didn't appeal the same, instead it felt as though he were being sucked inside a never ending abyss; as if the nature of what slept here felt hungry and empty. Sure enough they reached the antechamber, which looked to be an incredibly large round room with a pillar at it's center.

All along the walls were murals almost similar to the hall of stories they saw before, only this time they were far more elaborate as they revealed moments of history. There was one where men danced around a pyre at the center of the square the group passed earlier, and another with a group of seven women lined up at a pillar. The same pillar that Raimeus, Kleo, Tresah, and Finn stood in front of in fact, as Raimeus had shoved a dagger into Tresah's gut with a furious look in his eyes. Kleo had taken to protect Finn as she covered her mouth in horror, clearly mortified at the fact Raimeus had resorted to such action. Sure enough Tresah's body fell and Raimeus pulled a cloth out from his pocket to clean the dagger. "Raimeus why?!"

"Because you know good and well Kleo how useless he really was." The cold and bitter man spat at the body as he turned to look at the group. "And from the looks of it our welcome party's here." Kleo followed his gaze and she looked even more shocked now, seeing as how there were five people at the entrance to the chamber. "Took your time getting here, but then again you likely had your work cut out for you." Just as Raimeus stepped forward Finn bolted towards them, hopeful to get away as quickly as possible until Raimeus reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Ah, ah, ah! Nice try kid." Finn was then made to be his hostage as Raimeus held a dagger close to Finn, as the boy looked at the group with terror in his eyes. Kleo about shouted to protest his actions well enough, but a quickly demanded "Shut it," forced her to remain quiet as she stood near the pillar.

"It's over Raimeus!" Crowley insisted as he held the crossbow up to aim, however Patrick held a hand out to prevent the risk of firing.

"Hardly. You see I'm so close to walking away with my fabled jewel, but we're also a bit stuck on how to reveal it exactly." The devious man snickered as he flashed a grin, until the surrounding pool of water seemed to churn from a powerful vibration within. A short tremor was felt which threw everyone's balance off for a moment, and just as quickly as it went away the intense pressure Oberan was well acquainted with filled the room. Tresah who had been slain and his blood now flowed within the pool, started to stir as though some otherworldly force brought him back; which caused Kleo to gasp as Raimeus looked to see what the hell occurred.

"At last, come has the time to finally end this." Tresah's lips moved and while it sounded like his voice, a deep and foreboding tone accompanied it as well. The man looked alive but his eyes were in a vacant stare, first towards Raimeus's group and then towards Patrick's. "Here you are now, where the end first began."

Needless to say everyone was speechless, as a corpse just literally rose to speak to them.

Off Topic

Round 5
Sorry for the wait time, and for the excessive amount of content to read! I felt the need to really get this plot moving now, as we're in the final stages and you get to determine the conclusion. This is also a very big chance to actually speak and interact with the Guardian!

Statistics time! 288 men were left last round and that has now dropped to 266, the hunt is still on but the important groups are now safe! (But for how long?)

[Oberan]

Just when Oberan thought they’d made it, that they’d escaped the monstrous females, another one appeared. Just like the last, this one also sported extra arms, but instead of goat legs, it had a snake’s tail. Perhaps any other time he’d have commented on the pattern that seemed to be emerging here, but he was a little too busy running for his life. He didn’t know where these freakshows were coming from, where they’d been hiding, or which one of Raimeus’ morons had unleashed them, but he did know that he would kill that guy if he wasn’t dead already.

The gorgon was chasing them as well, it seemed. Oberan watched the serpentine body coil and slither with more speed than he’d have expected. It wasn’t hard to picture what would happen if she caught up. That strong and slim body would wrap tightly around him. She’d stare him down with those fierce yellow eyes. Her tongue would flicker out, tasting the sweat on his brow as her coils tightened and tightened around him-- Oberan didn’t like the part of his brain that told him these monsters would be kind of hot if only they’d lose some of the abomination factor.

It was finally happening. He’d figured it would have occurred during his decade of incarceration, but it was happening now instead. He was finally going completely insane.

Or maybe it was just the fear doing weird things with his mind. Either was plausible.

Into the temple they dove, just in time to maybe reach a spot they could barricade, keep the monsters out. However, that seemed to not be necessary. The gorgon screamed with a deafening pitch as she slithered into the temple, her scales smoldering as if on fire. She retreated, and they kept going, relieved that they were safe for just a little while.

Oberan slowed down a little, catching his breath in between the heaving of his chest. Fire burned inside his lungs and throat, but he was still alive. If they were lucky, it would stay this way. Though to be honest, he didn’t like this temple one bit. Oberan didn’t pay any mind to the murals, instead focusing on the environment. Something was off. The air was oppressive. It was easing away at him, draining … something out of his being. He didn’t want to be here any longer than he needed to. Get Finn, get out. Run like the wind.

A good plan.

Then they found Finn. And that Raimeus. And the woman. And some other guy with a dagger in his gut. The man slumped over and fell, and the benefactor of the expedition calmly cleaned his dagger. There was a pillar behind them. A pillar… a hungry presence… a corpse… Sacrificial rituals? That would explain a lot, actually.

Finn, smart kid he was, made an attempt to get away. It was a good try, but one that failed, as Raimeus realized could use the boy as a hostage. Fuck.

Also… what did he just say? That almost sounded as if he knew what was going on outside the temple, but hadn’t he been in here the whole time?

“Raimeus. Did you engineer this whole mess?” the Mortalborn asked, sneakily taking a couple steps forwards as Crowley kept his crossbow trained on the man. Audrae’s scion didn’t expect an answer, but letting the question drift in the air might alert everyone in the room that they possibly were in way over their heads.

The ground shook briefly and violently, and Oberan stumbled forwards for a couple more steps. Then, a familiar pressure started to creep into the room, building and building and building. It got to the point that Oberan half expected a booming voice to talk in ancient tongues.

“He’s coming,” he whispered to no-one in particular. “The Guardian is coming.”

Indeed he was. The dead man twitched, rising up like a marionette being controlled by a puppeteer. Raimeus’ female partner gasped, and Raimeus turned to see what was going on.

Opportunity knocked.

Oberan seized the moment, dashing forwards a few meters, hand outstretched, just enough that Raimeus was within range. Thrill Control’s hungry tether latched unto Raimeus, draining at a rate Oberan usually avoided. Now was an emergency however. He drained all Thrill, all agency that Raimeus had inside of him, bringing the man very low in one quick burst. There was no warning as all that was transferred to Oberan, no warning as Raimeus suddenly went limp, then collapsed in a heap. Alive, but unconscious. For at least an hour, if the amount sapped was to be believed.

Whatever excess he had within, Oberan quickly transferred to the others around, mitigating the strain on his body. He gestured to Finn, motioning for the boy to rejoin Patrick and company. Then he swept his arms dramatically towards the moving corpse.

“Everyone, I present you the Guardian. Guardian, everyone.” And then, “You can speak Common now? More importantly, what is going on, and what is going to end what, exactly?”

Somehow the mortalborn felt he wasn’t going to like this.

[Patrick]

At the posed question Oberan threw Raimeus's way there did come about wariness among everyone else, as it seemed to be a sudden possibility everyone couldn't shake as the man himself looked uncertain. Even Kleo looked at him with speculation, as the man did his best to keep that calm composure in check when he finally answered. "You think I knew those things were still here?! I didn't. I knew the gem had to be guarded though, so what would be a few sacrifices for something so valuable?"

"Raimeus..." Kleo looked beyond mortified hearing his words, and when the body of Tresah slowly rose... things only escalated from there. Oberan found his chance and stepped in to seize it, the closure between him and Raimeus just enough to sap the Thrill out of the man. Before any action could be taken to harm his hostage, the expeditionist faltered to the ground unconsciously with the dagger dropped into the surrounding spring. Sure enough Tresah's corpse looked all around in confusion, his glowing eyes on Oberan as the Mortalborn introduced him to the crowd.

"To... a... fault?" Indeed the Guardian looked utterly confused at the situation now, clearly a little awkward with the possession of a body deprived of it's soul. "I could grasp the tongue of your kind, when you and I shared a mind but... now I feel like it's slipping away... like life force of this man did." The rest of the group approached the altar as Finn met them halfway, clearly happy to be among trusty friends and not under the knife of a foe. Oberan's question wasn't ignored but it was clear much disturbed the Guardian, much that went beyond their mortal senses as they gathered closely.

"You mean the Guardian's in Tresah now? I'll be Immortal damned." Crowley remarked as they all focused on the Guardian, Kleo still remained close to the pillar where an alcove rested in the middle. In that alcove was some kind of water basin with the glowing essence, the same kind which consisted of the spring which filled the antechamber.

"They're... hunting now. After eras of sleep they've woken, thanks to the door being opened."

"They? They being?" Patrick already had an idea on what the entity referred to, but needless to say putting a name to them sounded great right now.

"The Chosen. Val'ketosh."

"The ancient seers of the city." Kleo finally added in as though the word held meaning. The Guardian slowly turned to look towards her, the stern lips on his face downturned at her sight.

"You... should never have come here child. The moment you arrived, they felt your presence." At that statement Kleo paled with terror, her eyes immediately shot to the group gathered.

"I never knew this would happen. I'd always hoped it real... but I never knew the truth!"

"Truth?!" Crowley questioned with an irked tone. "People are dying Kleo, what truth is worth all of that?!"

Kleo swallowed hard as she looked to Raimeus's limp body, while the Guardian looked to the space above with a vacant expression. "The child just wanted to come home."

Suddenly it became clear... Kleo... wasn't interested in the jewel at all, she was interested in the one place she would've never found. She wanted to recover the lost history of her ancestors, but was clearly never aware of what that history entailed up until now. "No doubt you wish to know what happened... all those Arcs ago." The spring rippled as the water swirled and the air grew heavy, as the Guardian seemed troubled by something else entirely. "Unfortunately we are short on time." The walls shuddered immediately after he said this, as though something massive slammed into them hard. Another hard force smashed into them as chunks of rock broke away, revealing light from the outside as screeches filled the room.

"I thought they can't get in!" Patrick remarked as Crowley and Ellen readied their bows.

"They can't... not yet..."

The wall broke down after one final slam and when the dust cleared, there stood four of the seven monstrosities that haunted the ruins of Orimar. The two faced multi-armed, the abhorrent spider, the serpentine monster, and the other none had yet to look upon; a thin and elongated female form with scythes for arms and slender appendages for legs. All four of them looked down into the antechamber all with eager and hungry eyes, yet none dared to intrude as it required crossing the spring. Why?

"Kes tri'vole mari mori!" The serpentine stated aloud.
"Mari mor vargus!!" The multi-armed one followed, the rest couldn't help but cackle eerily.

"We gotta go! Now!"

"It's too late..." The Guardian looked from them with disgust on his face, his glowing eyes somber as he looked to Kleo. "They await." Await what? Patrick looked at Kleo much like the rest did, as the woman looked from the Guardian and group to Raimeus. The lady then knelt to fish out the chalice from one of his coat pockets, which led to the man groaning lowly as he fought to regain consciousness.

The four outside screeched briefly as they seemed to recognize the object Kleo held, their forms lowered as though they were either crouching or knelt in some aspect. Patrick's eyes narrowed at that sure enough he paid attention to what was left of the murals.... The dancing... The women gathered around the pillar of the jewel... and then those four things. The Rharnian then looked to Kleo as she stood before the basin, the chalice held within as it collected the water that dripped within.

"Mari mor. Rina Wers. Gali ruts Orima." They all chanted this. Together. As Kleo slowly held the chalice close, unsure of whether or not she should. It then dawned on him... The jewel. The Emean jewel. Immediately the Rharnian moved towards her and swiped the chalice, it's contents jumped into the spring as Kleo looked to him with spite.

"You're not going to become one of them to-trial." The four hissed and spat at him for interruption, and when the mantis one threatened to jump in; she hesitated at the realization of what it'd cost. They were still safe in their sanctuary but for how long? The Guardian's glow had dimmed quite a bit since then, and the body of Tresah looked half limp as he stood there just watching. "The Emean Jewel. It's not a real jewel." He said aloud when he looked back to the group. "I brought you all here thinking that too... but now I know." His eyes went to the four with a scowl, as he hated fate's twisted sense of irony. "It's them."

Off Topic

Round 6
And the startling revelation! Meanwhile we've lost 26 more expedition members, leaving 240 alive with a quarter of that amount actually out! Hooray for survival!

[Oberan]

These people, Oberan found himself thinking, are more stone-faced and accepting of the idea of some ancient deity inhabiting the body of a recently deceased man than they have the right to be.

Then again, they had just seen a lot of corpses rise from the dead to feed on the flesh of the living. They’d seen monstrous women with insect and reptile qualities. Granted, at one point or another you just stopped thinking about it and simply rolled with whatever was thrown your way. Snake lady? Sure. Ancient being of questionable morality and power taking possession a dead guy? Whatever man.

Maybe the Mortalborn was simply a bit miffed that the others weren’t being treated with the welcome the Guardian had given him. Oberan had almost shat his pants, spent the next hour or so in a bit of a daze looking over his shoulder believing the Big Brother was watching. Booming voices in an ancient language in their heads, and the complete nullification (which the thief still believed was the cause of the Guardian’s otherwise inexplicable lack of power currently) of any supernatural gifts they might possess --like Pat’s portal magic, or Finn’s hippie fire—would have shaken them to their core for sure. And then Oberan could be all like ‘Oh, yeah, I shared my body with this guy for a little while. Don’t worry, he’s probably benign.’

He crossed his arms and sighed.

Meanwhile, the Guardian spilled the beans on what in the blazes was actually going on here, and wouldn’t you know it, it was Raimeus’ fault. More or less. It was the woman’s lineage that had woken up the monsters, apparently, but since it was Raimeus who had facilitated her entry… yup, totally his fault. Oberan couldn’t blame the woman to answer the call of her blood, to long to see the home of her ancestors. Perhaps rejoin the surviving people of her home. There was a resonance within his soul, which refused to hold her accountable for whatever horrors she might have unleashed. Raimeus had said he’d expected the city to be guarded. He brought her here. He’d told everyone he was willing to sacrifice all his hired help to get to the Jewel. Most likely, if he’d known about the monsters, he’d still have gone through with the expedition. Clearly, if there was one at fault here, it was him.

A tremor shook the entire temple, though unlike the one which evoked the Guardian’s appearance, this one seemed to be caused by the pure force of something ramming itself into the walls. There were only a couple creatures in Orimar that came to mind who could cause this, and all of them wanted to eat Oberan and his companions.

He didn’t like the thought of those creatures coming in eventually.

Four monsters stood there waiting, the Guardian looking at them with disdain, the others trapped inside with fright. Oberan shuffled closer to the walking corpse.

“Can you tell me more about them as quickly as you can? If you can somehow put the information right into my head, that’s preferable, IF it doesn’t make you disappear right away.” He glanced sideways to the corpse, then to the monsters, and then to the Lost Child starting some kind of ceremony. “Would it be possible for you to syphon my power or my energy or whatever, and destroy these Chosen? You did mention ending this, didn’t you?” He paused momentarily. “Unless I am misunderstanding and there is something that needs to be done which you cannot. If it helps us get out of here, just say the word and I’ll give my best shot at getting it done.”

“Additionally, since you seem to have some sway over my powers, do you think you could steer my Shenanigans into a favorable outcome for me and mine? In case we have no other means of escape. Also, I’d appreciate it if you could tell me the quickest way out?”

The Guardian’s glow was dimming, Oberan noticed. His power was slipping away, fading. Soon enough so too would whatever was keeping the monsters at bay. He grabbed the dead man by the bicep, staring him in the eye with an uncharacteristic seriousness. “If you can, feed on whatever divine power flows through my body. Sustain yourself. Guide us. Tell us what to do to end this nightmare, or how to get out of here, or both. Whatever gets us to safety fastest.”

[Patrick]

When it really came down to it all of it was a lot to process before the end of the day. One minute they were prepared to enter an ancient city and then the next, they were fighting for survival against abhorrent monstrosities; all while an ancient 'deity' of the city watched over their backs. Under normal circumstances everyone probably would've had the same legitimate reaction as Oberan did, however with the constant thread of death lingering over them; it also proved difficult to actually dwell in the moment when survival seemed most key. But at the moment of truth? The big realization that what they came here for, was in fact a misguided translation of what had to be a metaphor? A fucking metaphor! "You... You mean to tell me that their the jewel?!" Crowley remarked with inconspicuous resentment, now that it became obvious there wasn't any real 'fabled treasure' involved.

Or perhaps there had been all along... the water and it's mysterious properties... the glowing crystals that decorated the entire city... all of it somehow felt connected in a sense, only nobody at present could really figure out just how exactly. "I'm not really sure how either," Patrick responded with an anxiously disappointed tone. "But looking at the murals and what Kleo was about to do... I think I'm getting a better picture of how the city fell."

"Yes indeed," the Guardian responded in turn, "but the truth is more... abstract than you probably believe." Oberan seemed to suggest an idea somewhat dangerous to the Guardian, as it required a substantial amount of energy and time grew shorter with each passing trill. The bright eyes of the Guardian fell sullen, as the four Val'ketosh still chided and laughed amongst one another impatiently. There was a lot to consider and as Patrick himself listened to what Oberan observed, he then too realized just what exactly was going on as of now. The Val'ketosh couldn't enter the temple here because of the Guardian, however the Guardian wouldn't be able to keep them at bay for too long either.

Therefore they needed an escape plan... "The Val'ketosh? They're nothing but primal savages now, barely holding onto fragments of their previous lives. The flow of the Emadeniri has twisted and corrupted them..."

"Emadeniri? That's the word. That's what we translated as Jewel of Emea." Crowley pointed out with a puzzled expression, as Kleo looked from the group towards the pedestal.

"The flow of the Emadeniri..." She reiterate selectively with her eyes back towards Crowley. "Meaning this whole time we've been wrong. What everyone thought meant to be jewels, turned out to be a metaphor much like other Orimatsun phrases."

"I cannot do that young keeper of keys," the Guardian answered in turn with Oberan's question of siphoning energy, "it conflicts with my entire being; as I'm meant to protect those who enter the city." The entity knowingly then looked more intently at Oberan, as though a subtle reminder therein lied with the statement made.

"The promise." Patrick threw out aloud as he seemed more and more focused on thinking, rather than dwelling on the fact they were still trapped at the moment.

"Correct. Raimeus has broken that vow, but none of you have not; therefore I must protect you all however I can." Somehow he couldn't help but smile in that moment, particularly to Oberan and to Kleo as well before responding further. "I can however... impart upon you the knowledge you seek." Sure enough the waning glow brightened around Tresah's body, and the temple started to shake as pressure rose in the air. The Val'ketosh all started to cover their ears and scorn the Guardian with hisses and short lived cries of anguish. The intensity of the atmosphere built up so quickly that the water itself started to shudder and rise, and in that moment everyone likely felt the same feeling of lightheadedness Oberan did before.

The Guardian's aura enveloped them and within it, whispers echoed all throughout the air and into the minds of every one. All of them. It was a similar experience for all, but the best way Pat could describe it was like trying to walk through a body of water. His mind swam and spun as he felt tingling sensations radiation throughout his skull, and suddenly the foreign echoes suddenly became coherent words that he absorbed. There was more... so much more... All of it came rushing in at once, and it almost felt as though his head were about to burst from all that poured into his mind. It was the same for everyone else also, as they would all come to understand what really happened that dark fateful night....



The temple looked untarnished as the acolytes all gathered everything necessary for the evening, while a massive amount of drums pounded with celebratious beats outside. The air felt full of thriving excitement and possibility as those who were chosen waited, within the confines of the temple as the acolytes prepared them all. Each and every one had been washed from head to toe, painted with the runic symbols of their ancient language, groomed for what would be their ascension within the hour to come.

Seven.

They were all beautiful and pale much like the moons of Cylus, the runic markings painted on them glowing much like the waters which flowed graciously around the city. Tributes arrived from both the gates of the city as their doors remained wide open, with the stone arch nearby alit with glowing runes as people seemed to warp in from someplace else. Out in the square outside the temple was a bonfire at the center, with the tribal people dancing about rambunctiously around to celebrate the coming ascension.

It was a monumental day for these people as these seven women, chosen seers who received the wisdom of their ancient deities, and spread that wisdom throughout the city of Orimar as it once was. Today was meant to be the greatest day for the city, for they felt the zenith of the moons and in their alignment; rapture finally awaited to great them once the ceremony was complete. However...

They had been lied to from the start.

"We take this gift from the gods, join ourselves with the moonflow, so that we may ascend with the gods." The seven declared as they each were given a crystalline chalice filled with the glimmering substance. "May our people find peace and prosperity within the Great Beyond." The pale priest at the center then raised his hands, his eyes rolled back as he closed them to utter the will of their Gods.

"Drink now and rise to join the Gods."

They all did as instructed with no hesitation... Every seer drank from their cups until the contents were empty, as the moonflow they imbibed filled their beings with power. One by one they felt the course of their deities divine will flow throughout their body, and one by one they each fell down to die with the veins of their blood glistening the same brighter blue shade. As they found death though life slowly returned to them all, only a different essence of life that inhabited their beings. Almost as if they had fallen asleep the seers all choked and writhed with horror in their faces, until finally the pain they felt within clawed its way out of their meager forms.

Screams echoed throughout the antechamber that night and when they reached the ears of the people, the drumming and dancing both stopped together with the people banding together. It had been done. The ascension had started.



As the pressure lightened immensely and Patrick felt himself able to stand straight again, without feeling drunk no less, he looked around to see how everyone else had handled what they'd just seen. Truth be told he had no idea what to make of what they'd just learn, much less of the fact that they now could understand the words being said outside. "No mooooore! Make it stop!" Their were crying now as they still clutched at what had to be their ears, and yet somehow Patrick couldn't help but feel sorry for what they became in the end.

"Uh oh!" One look and the Guardian's glow had faded greatly, the faint signs of life still just there inside Tresah's own body; as though the entity hung on with every fiber left of his being. "Don't tell me you're dying!"

"Death comes for all witful one... as you've seen it time and time again."

"Is that what happened to the city? Did the seers kill everyone else?" Crowley and Kleo looked from Patrick to the Guardian curiously.

"After the Val'ketosh ascended many were slaughtered that night, however to save them all there was only one choice I had."

"Which is?"

"I kept the ascended at bay long enough for the priests to finish their ritual, so that those who remained could venture forth into the unknown; deep into the Great Beyond."

"They went to what they believed was paradise in hopes of escaping hell." Crowley fittingly highlighted.

"And... I think I know how we can do the same." Patrick remarked as he looked more thoughtfully about the lingering memory. "Is there anyway we can use the stone archway to get out? From the looks of it the Ori-people were able to use it like warp gate."

"They did indeed." The Guardian sounded approving of the observation. "They often sent emissaries out into world, sometimes using that very gate for greater distances."

"Can we get it to work? How would we make it send us all back to Foster's Landing?"

"You serious Patrick?" Crowley remarked with a look of disapproval. "You want to rely on something we don't even know will work? How are we gonna get there?! The ascended would be right on our tail the moment we step outta here!"

"You forget Crowely that I've got a means of getting there in just that one step."

"Yes indeed," The Guardian answered in turn, "you've an ample supply of Ether to get you there; but be warned as the moonflow's energy empowers it. You risk yourself in trying to warp to the gate yourself... but it could work..." Sluggishly the Guardian looked towards the four monsters as they eagerly fidgeted at the water's edge. "That leaves only one thing left." He looked towards Oberan next and then towards the water, as the Guardian lifted a foot to step forward towards the spring. "Key keeper. You are the one that feels more akin to the place you're friend has named. Therefore I have one last instruction left for you." Raimeus finally stirred but was slow to get onto his feet, a spiteful look at the group as everybody seemed to watch the Guardian walk into the body of water slowly.

"Use a key to open the gate and when you do, focus on where you want it to take everyone. You'll only have this one chance... so make it count."

Off Topic

Round 8
Get ready!

[Oberan]

Too focused on his conversation with the Guardian, Oberan hadn’t really been listening to everything else that was going on. When Crowley spoke in surprise about translations, the Mortalborn did catch some parts of what was said.

“You mean to tell me this whole mess we’re in right now can be attributed to a fucking translation error? Though it’s not funny in the slightest, I do hope you’re joking.”

Some fucktard made an error in their translations, not knowledgeable enough about the Orimatsun language to realize it was meant metaphorically? That was just… just simply too infuriating. He’d come here in search of adventure rather than reward, sure, but he’d rather be on the verge of dying while breaking into an actual treasury instead. None of that metaphor bullshit. Actual gems. At least that way he’d be dying for a decent reason. Now he was just stuck in a fucking temple about to be eaten by monstrosities, and there was not even a bit of treasure in sight.

“You can’t? What do you mean you ca—” Oberan began, cutting himself off as the Guardian continued speaking. Something about that statement felt off. It went against his being, but that did not mean that he couldn’t do it. Patrick piped up as well, remembering the promise made before they entered the city proper.

“Okay, maybe I’m not seeing the whole picture here, but I have no idea what you mean with ‘the promise’. You—“ He jabbed his finger towards the reanimated corpse “—Did not promise anything. This piece of shit here did.” He nudged Raimeus with the tip of his boot, causing the man to stir a little, though he likely wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon. “I seem to remember he would not harm us, but I don’t see why that promise would bind you to protect us.”

Although, he was the Guardian for a reason… But why protect any who enter?

“I am willingly giving to you the means to sustain yourself for a little while longer. Refusing this gift offends me gre--”

Before he could finish his sentence, Oberan’s awareness of his body, of his position in space and even time seemed to fade. He was to bear witness to whatever had caused Orimar to fall. There was a ceremony, promises made and broken. Bodies twisted and remade. Priestesses killed, and monsters birthed.

When he found himself back into the present, Oberan had more questions than before. Who had deceived all these women? Why had they done it? Was this supposed to happen? What was the plan? He glanced over at the Guardian, mouth already opening to give voice to his questions, though his jaw snapped shut the moment he noticed the dimmer glow. Not much time was left.

Evidently, everyone present had been granted the same vision. Patrick asked questions, which the Guardian answered. A way out, an exit to make their escape. But, in the vision there had been seven seers who’d completed the ritual. Only four were present, leaving three unaccounted for. Despite the size of the city, Oberan was certain the risk of running into those three was rather large.

More instructions came from the Guardian, along with warnings. It seemed Patrick’s magic might exact a toll for the use here, or maybe the Rharnian was going to overexert himself. But, the Guardian seemed certain that if they could make it to the archway, Oberan could get it to work. Still, the mortalborn refused to be optimistic. And when the deity purposefully strode towards the fountain, likely preparing to cast himself into it in a last helpful act, Audrea’s son accepted the Guardian could indeed feed on his essence, but refused to because of the promise.

And he figured he could do something about that.

“Right, that’s it. If you’re not going to take what’s been given to you because of one promise or another, then I will make things easier for you.” The Mortalborn sharply turned towards Patrick, who was the closest to him. “Pat, I’m going to cause you harm and break my promise,” Oberan announced half a second before he aimed a blow for the Rharnian’s stomach.