Into Darkness

[Alistair]

77th of Ashan, Arc 719
Continued from here.

Alistair had spent two trials in the Underway. It had been... a truly unique experience, filled with both mystery and inconvenience at all of the pathways closed to him and all of the portions that could not be traversed. Had he not been a Rupturer, it would have also been incredibly dangerous merely traveling through it - and he did not know if it would have even been possible. There were so many large gaps; so many stairwells that simply ended with a hundred foot drop, and bridges that were broken that would have required an astronomical amount of effort to cross... if not for his portal mastery. Fortunately through 'the Pulse' he'd managed to scope out the layout of the place as he took each step, feeling the world around him very clearly. There had not been too many surprises, thus, and what monsters dwelt here he had quickly dispatched.

And now, they were very, very deep underground. Alistair could not even estimate how far they had gone -- he knew he'd traveled miles, but it hadn't all been in a straight downward descent. What he did know, though, was that he had met with what appeared to be the lowest point of the Underway. With collapsed estates all around them, Alistair traversed the finally flat surface of the ground and stepped towards a massive, lumbering and broken castle that overlooked the entirety of the lower area. It was ancient and made of stone, and from one glance the magister knew it must have belonged to House Arkenstone before the Cataclysm.

He appeared to be at the end. Alistair felt almost... cornered, knowing that there were no other venues to follow; the corridors and pathways ended, the last and lowest area rounded out into a clear dome-like cave area with walls adorned with breathtaking stone carvings. It had to have been the place of rulership, not only for the Arkenstones but their leading vassals. And being that this was before the Theocratum, the make of their buildings was notable and incredible; the Nobility then truly had more wealth than the ones now, and far more influence.

Alistair continued to walk across the rubble-covered, dusty floor and Jericho trailed a few feet behind him. The Paragon's emanating glow lit up the contours and details of the buildings as they walked, at least... the few parts that remained. He noted that the style of architecture then was virtually the same as now - grim, stony and telling of a deeply misanthropic culture.

Strangely though, he also noted that there was the faintest blue light emanating from within the castle courtyard, not all too far ahead. Alistair raised a brow before shutting his eyes, projecting his Predator's Purview outward to view the source of the light before they ran into something unfortunate. Once he'd projected his vision, however, it appeared to disappear.

"The light moved forward," Jericho said.

"Forward?" he asked, before biting his lower lip. "Did you note the color of that light? A medium, ethereal blue. It could be something magical - we need to be on guard. In a setting like this, the first one to strike will be the one who wins... assuming it's a man. The Underway is host to many strange things and I would not be surprised if the Arkenstone castle was home to the most dangerous of them."

[Alistair]

And so... they did traverse more slowly. Slowly, and stealthily. Alistair covered himself in a thick black shroud in order to conceal the light he emanated, wearing a golden-embroidered white mask on his face for a similar purpose. Phorcys was stationed outside of the castle as Alistair and Jericho crouched and approached the broken gate, only to open a suitable portal along the side of the wall that opened on the other side. If there were any etheric traps, the mage knew he would rather be cautious in how he roamed so as to not trigger them.

The two men, cladded in black, were incredibly light on their feet even despite their weight. Alistair appeared not to make a single sound with his step, so fine-tuned and controlled were his feet, and Jericho was much the same. Since acquiring human intellect again the Revenant had improved in many ways; he had become what appeared to be closer to his original self in his skillset, if not improved due to the relentless arcs he'd spent mastering himself under Alistair's gaze. Deathlessness also helped; he never grew tired, nor fatigued, nor had to limit his training for fear of death or injury. The two men were not quite equals, but there were few Alistair respected as much in combat and in infiltration as the man crouched behind him.

"Alistair, look," the Revenant called to him. He pointed upwards towards one of the partially broken windows, where the same blue light appeared to pass through. The mage gripped the pommel of his Claymore with his clawed gauntlet, prepared to Scry into the castle corridor and stealthily dispatch whoever it was that appeared to be roaming the palace floor. He could only theorize who or what it might have been; colors blue like ether, moving freely around... was it another mage? Was it some ethereal spirit of the past? Perhaps it was even an object, or a construct...

He could not know. And so he gestured forward with his hands, noting a shattered wall at the corner of the castle exterior that they could use to enter into the building.

"Do you know what this castle was called?" asked the thrall.

"No -- there's not much history around from back then. I'm sure someone knows, but... it appears that people in Quacia try not to remember the small details from before the Cataclysm. Perhaps because they're painful, or..."

"This place reeks of evil," Jericho interjected. He swiped his gloved hand across the edge of a dusty wall as they continued to crouch, stepping through the shattered portion of the exterior only to view what appeared to be a large room with a throne at the end. That was - or so it appeared to be - the place of administration for the old dynasty, though with slabs and messes of dust all across the floor. Courtiers must have roamed here, back then... and a great number of them. The entire castle was truly massive; beyond that of the typical means of Nobility.

"Perhaps it was evil," Alistair replied, late. "We can only guess as to whether the Arkenstones were fair or just rulers -- I know, though, that the Kingdom at least thrived. There are so many places almost... like this in a way; grand and ancient and ruined, spread all across Southern Idalos' West End. The Kingdom used to be wide-spanning, influential and prosperous, with a hegemonic grip on this region. And now . . . it is not. The things that must have changed from then until now -- I can only imagine."

A sound came from above them, in one of the higher floors of the castle. It was resounding and clear: a voice.

Awakening... it first said, in a low and almost exhausted voice. After a brief delay, the voice spoke again more clearly. And, awoken. Who will I judge?

[Alistair]

The two men immediately felt on-edge. A thudding began to sound from above, and it grew louder and quicker in only trills. A section of the palace quite literally began to collapse from what appeared to be a heavy weight recklessly moving across it, and before long Alistair caught the form of a dusted automaton-like entity sprinting violently down the wide staircase from the upper floor. It looked... like a Puppet. In fact, yes -- it had to be. The one that had been lost in the Cataclysm.

"You are being judged!" the automaton yelled, which reminded Alistair of its name and function. Judge, a sort of executioner for the royal family sent to handle scheming vassals and mages who sought to be a little bit more than the Kingdom's lapdogs. And apparently, despite their stealthiness it had already detected them. Alistair immediately rolled across the floor as the entity sprinted toward him at a rapid pace, mentally invoking several Runes across his body in order to surpass the entity's physical prowess. Jericho, with his cat-like reflexes, ran across the room and ducked behind the dusted throne... only for judge to pursue him immediately.

The Runes upon Alistair's skin glimmered brightly for a trill only to fade. They were snuffed out by something, like a candle blown - though he did not know what that something was... until he saw a levitating creature descend across the steps.

It was a man covered in flames of blue ether, and ribbons that wrapped around his limbs almost like a mummy. Alistair did not recognize his particular mutations, of course, but he recognized the magic that he was utilizing - Transmutation. And the snuffing out of his Runes appeared to be the work of Ether Drought, which meant the man knew he was a mage. He must have been an Attuner, who had already garnered Alistair's frequency and realized he was a magical threat.

"By the order of King Arkenstone, surrender at once!" Judge roared in a low, life-like voice. Alistair drew his claymore from its pommel and did the one thing he knew would be best - he went straight for the Crux, the levitating Transmuter before him who had commanded the Ether Drought, as well as the Puppet itself. Swiping forward upon drawing the weapon he immediately sprinted rapidly towards the man, only for the Crux to begin to ascend in height.

Alistair managed to thrust forward quickly enough to lodge his blade into the thigh of the man as he rose, only for the Revealed Transmuter to scream out in rage as he continued to fly without restraint. He disappeared into the upper corridor of the castle, as Jericho continued to evade his relentless pursuer.

Alistair had to find the Crux. His death, in the face of the Ether Drought, was the only possibility for victory against a Puppet. The mage sprinted across the stairs and followed him across the corridor, hunting him down as the Crux's blood ran across the stone floor in a trail.

[Rakvald]

Comments

This was a fun read, for a pre-boss battle. I look forward to the conclusion.

Knowledge

Blades (Claymore): Drawing quickly for a sneak attack
Blades (Claymore): Swiping, horizontal draw
Blades (Claymore): Quick lunge
Blades (Claymore): Going for an ascending object
Blades (Claymore): Skewering
Hunting: Chasing trails of blood

non-skill:

History: The Quacian Underway
Domain Magic: Crux

Loot

n/a

Injuries/Overstepping

n/a

Renown

n/a

Wealth Points

n/a

Experience

10/10 these points can't be used for domain magic.