Jakob Posted July 31, 2001 Report Posted July 31, 2001 As his strength begins to return, Jakob fumbles in his pockets once again... Looking towards Peredhil, he gives the old mage a knowing wink, letting Peredhil know that he has considered the same plan as well and is ready... Jakob pulls forth a small crystal that glimmers with an inner light... muttering a small cantrip, he releases the magic power stored within the mana crystal... As the power flows outward, an aura of pale verdant light surrounds the withered mage and his eyes begin to gleam a bright emerald hue... Once suffused with power, Jakob makes his way towards Peredhil, touching each of his companions and adding his healing powers to their own... Taking his place alongside the Polite Mage, Jakob rests his hand on Peredhil's shoulder, bolstering his magic powers and letting him know that it is time... "I am ready... if you are..."
Peredhil Posted July 31, 2001 Author Report Posted July 31, 2001 Struggling to hold the Name, Peredhil is unable to stop his Aura from resonanting with each healing Jakob performs, amplifying and accelerating the regenerations, each one draining him slightly. with the gasping effort of a distance runner passing the race baton, Elrond grasps the hand resting on his shoulder. Turning his head to the aged ear, he feels the lining of his throat tear as he speaks the demon's Name to the waiting mage, immediately collapsing into Guido and Nuncio's arms. A hoarse wracking cough expelled blood from his lacerated thoat. Spellbinder screamed in impotent fury as the transfer was completed. "Nooooo! Sssstop!" The True Name staggers Jakob, prepared as he was. This was one of the Greater Demons the Planeswalker had so casually summoned to their destruction! Knowing and willing to pay the price, he braced himself and turned to face the Demon.
Zadown Posted July 31, 2001 Report Posted July 31, 2001 Knowing that he can't stop the Binding, bound to Meatgrinder so that movement or escape is impossible, Spellbinder waves the demon soldiers ahead. They rush forward, lowering their polearms for charge, aiming for Jakob.
Guest DoctorEvil65 Posted July 31, 2001 Report Posted July 31, 2001 The ghostly figure stares at the the broken casks of ale on the floor, shaking his head in disgust and can be overheard grumbling, "......demons and planewalkers are always cute, until innocent beer gets spilt.......' Gazing about the room, the apparition glances at the shattered husk of the huge red dragon. A small smile comes over his face as he mutters "Hmmmmm......necromancy has always been the Doctor's speciality......let's see how those beer-spilling demons like this...." The wraith-like figure of DoctorEvil begins to chant in an ancient, guttral language, making arcane gestures over the enormous corpse of the great red. Slowly the remains of the beast begin to move....... Edited by: DoctorEvil65 at: 7/31/01 9:05:46 am
Jakob Posted July 31, 2001 Report Posted July 31, 2001 Recoiling from sheer horror, Jakob steels himself to hold the True Name at the foremost of his mind... He takes in the sight of an undead dragon advancing on Meatgrinder and the demon-warriors making their way towards him... In an effort to spare the Polite Mage from harm, he places himself in front of Peredhil and raises both of his arms... Slowly at first, then with increasing cadence, Jakob begins to incant... The spell he has begun is recognized by many of the Phantasms as Temporal Stasis Field... a spell that was learned by Jakob at great cost... As he finishes the incantation... a soft blue light engulfs the demon-warriors, slowing their movements, each step taking minutes instead of seconds... Satisfied, Jakob turns his attention to Spellbinder... He pulls a small metal object from his pockets... a small four wheeled object of mettalic blue... large fins extending from the back of it and two small lights on the front... He presses a small button on the back and two piercing, cerulean beams of light project towards Spellbinder... where the beams touch the floor, a Wall of Silence is created blocking any enchantments that Spellbinder may cast towards him... Jakob turns towards Peredhil and grins... "I knew this Cadillac Fleetwood would come in handy for something..." Quickly, Jakob begins his enchantment... " Sic friatur crustulum! Nolite sinere nothos te corruere!" The words of power stumble from Jakob's lips... His brow furrowed with the effort, he names Spellbinder... "I claim power over thee, you foul creature... Zeernebooch... by knowing your True Name, I claim dominion over you... Heed my mastery or suffer my wrath!"
Zadown Posted August 1, 2001 Report Posted August 1, 2001 The demon soldiers next to freeze, unable to break the powerful enchantment. Their twisted faces start the slow change from snarl to impotent rage. Spellbinder responds quicker, but its scream of torment as Jakob binds it is as useful weapon against the archmages in the room as the demonwarriors' new mien. It halts and trembles as it tries to wrestle free, but it is bound with the most powerful method there is, its True Name. Eliminating the spellcaster as a threat doesn't stop Meatgrinder, however. It rips and tears the armored form of Zadown of the Rogs, who fights back with dwindling strenght, not even sparing any for snarling any more. The massive demon isn't having it easy, though - an impressive series of long and deep axe cuts in its body show the work of the Treeburner. Still, the mithril armor of the warrior is pierced from many places, and sprayed blood colors both the floor and the wall next to the combatants. Zadown crashes to one knee, starting to slip away, to death, when a shadow crosses over the pair - the undead dragon joins the fight, biting one of Meatgrinder's arms off and scoring deep clawmarks on its thick hide. The moment of defeat and victory hanging in the air gives strenght and speed to both the demon and the warrior, and they both strike mighty blows - the last ones from the brink of death. Meatgrinder opens Zadown's jugular artery with a sweep of one of its longer clawed hands and dark blood fountains out - Zadown sinks the two-handed axe Treeburner deep into the form of the great demon, crushing its spine. Both fall down, dead.
Jakob Posted August 1, 2001 Report Posted August 1, 2001 OzymandiasT posted, Motionless and forgotten by the wall inside, Ozymandias' metallic skin fades to a sickly yellow color. Rivulets of sweat course down his face, soaking underclothes and robes in short order. His jaw grinds thin layers of powder from his teeth. His eyes are still shut tight in concentration. Those with ears to hear catch the tortured whisper, " i can still feel him..." El Jakob posted, A shudder of effort courses through Jakob's body. The sheer force of the battle of wills between him and Spellbinder is obvious by the look on his face. A gasp of pain escapes Jakob lips as he finally establishes control over the demon... "Ahhh.... Now, it is complete. Spellbinder, I command you to call for your former master. Summon him here. Tell him you have established control and need his presence. Once he is here, you will hold him. I wish to try an experiment."
Zadown Posted August 2, 2001 Report Posted August 2, 2001 Spellbinder cackles drily. "aIhh chaaall shimmm? hAndh hholhdh shimm? Ash youh wisssshh, mastahh.." It starts to weave a spell of calling, using so much magic that the lines of the spell leave shining traces in the air - the weave starts to resemble a beautiful web of light. Then the lines turn away from this plane, vanishing one by one but each one leaves a certain ripple in the air. The ripples form a circle, in the middle of which a pair of eyes appear, looking deep blue first, then turning to blood red. They survey the area quickly as Spellbinder starts to hiss again: "Mastahh..." That is how far he gets in his speech before the eyes blink once and vanish. The demon stops, perplexed, and turns to look at Jakob. The tableau holds for a second - a cloaked demon looking at the old mage and the old mage looking back, both realizing that things didn't go quite by the plan. Then a massive stone statue of a female warrior (chain mail, winged helm, a few spears in a quiver and a sword and a shield held ready - the woman herself of an unearthly beauty) hits Spellbinder, appearing from the thin air just above it at high speed. A sickening crunching sound signals the end of the great demon. The statue, standing slightly slanted on the remains of Spellbinder, seems to be smiling more widely than when it appeared...
Guest DoctorEvil65 Posted August 2, 2001 Report Posted August 2, 2001 Ozymandias the Elder posted, Rasing fists to his sides, Ozymandias focuses all his will into one fevered mental shout through the magic of his sword. WHERE ARE YOU, PLANESWALKER? I, TOO, HAVE TRAVELED THE BOUNDARIES OF OUR REALITY AND BEYOND. I KNOW WHAT HAS HAPPENED, AND WHAT IT HAS DONE TO YOU. HEAR ME AND FACE ME, MAD ONE! FOR I CHALLENGE YOU, AND I SHALL QUELL THE CHAOS THAT EATS AT YOUR SOUL OR KILL YOU TRYING. YOU WILL REAP NO MORE DESTRUCTION IN THIS REALM OR ANY OTHER. YOUR KING COMMANDS IT! Dropping halfway to his knees in exhaustion, Ozymandias gasps for breath. He is crouched for several long minutes before he can again straighten. If he comes, there will be no time to summon the others. But they would learn soon enough. With these final thoughts, the man who once styled himself a god digs deeper, deeper into his psyche than he did even in battle with Death. Deeper and deeper still, until finally, his questing inverted mind finds what it is looking for: a wellspring, wondrous, luminous, and fairly vibrating with power. Any telepathic intruder at this juncture, had he the senses developed from countless years of training and combat, would hear, within a thought, within a thought, within a thought, plumbed from the darkest recesses of a human soul, a grim voice: I only pray it's enough. DoctorEvil65 posted, The ghostly figure watched as the undead Dragon finished dispatching the slow moving demon warriors. He turned to check on the magic-stealing demon just in time to see the warrior statue appear and dispatch it. Slow he shook his head and muttered "Too many people, too much wild magic....this is not good" Gazing at his new necromatic lackey, and seeing that it's work was done the apparition waves his arms and begins chatting. A gray mist envelopes the draconic undead and it disappears from sight, presumably to some secret dungeon. Suddenly, he hears a voice speaking words of power and turns to see the one they call Ozymandias "Dear lord, he's trying to force the Planeswalker back here.....will these people never learn" Shaking his head, the ghost slowly disappears from sight........ [Edit due to misreading the previous posts ] Edited by: DoctorEvil65 at: 8/2/01 6:20:38 am
Peredhil Posted August 7, 2001 Author Report Posted August 7, 2001 The statue drops, the Demon dies. Unseen but felt is the released outwash of demonic Nether essenses and sudden raw unbound power. All the gathered magi have shields that reflexively protect them from such formless energies, knowing that it is the processed energy of a spell wherein the true danger lies. In the corner of the room, the energy parts as it washed harmlessly over the Faerie Dragonic Ring protected Guinea Pigs. It crashes off the Elrohir's refined Phantasm protections, rebounds off Elladan's more basic innate resistences and hits Elrond Peredhil. Who closes his spirit as best he can to the essenses and opens his being to the power. The Pain is intense as the chaotic energies flux and flow through him. Even knowing the dead Demon's True Name and grounding most of it through his Ring, the magical resistence is enough to cause the air around him to coruscate purple-black. One... two... three seconds he is able to hold himself open before he lets his innate shield snap closed. Face and hands show painful blisters, but his mana has been most recharged even though he was able to absorb only a tithe of the energy the Demon had had bound. That the Planeswalker had so effortless controlled and casually slain the creature helped to cast a sense of proportion on the magnitude of his power - And perhaps the depth of the maddening torment he carried. Elrond was hit with the sudden reality of how far he was in over his head: The powerful Magi who he'd known and socialized, accepted as equals, where no more than splinters from the Planeswalker's psyche. Closing his eyes tightly against the pain and the strain, he reluctantly opened them again to observe the room's situation. Somehow this would have to be peacefully concluded. The alternatives might make Armaggedon seem attractive. Edited by: peredhil31 at: 8/7/01 6:28:56 am
Yui-chan Posted August 7, 2001 Report Posted August 7, 2001 The travel of Peredhil's eyes as they drift over the room, taking in the details of the carnage left in the wake of the demons' presence, was stopped by a subtle ripple in the air. Frowning and bracing himself for the trouble he feared, he gazed at the point in space until, a second later, a shadow with a golden halo popped into existence... Blinking in surprise, Yui gazed at the blank wall of the Conservatory for a few heartbeats before she turned her head, looking around in confusion. It took about ten seconds before the realization made it past the muddle of thoughts and impressions and questions that the short jaunt into the Dreamer's mind had left her with. I'm back in the Conservatory. The Huntress slowly turned, then, barely seeing the room around her as her thoughts stayed fixed on the experience she had just had, playing and replaying the images, sounds and feelings she had found in the Dreamer's mind. Another moment passed before her distraction-glazed green eyes fixed on the double doors that lead to the complex's main hallway with a semblance of recognition. Weariness swept over her, and her feet began to move almost without conscious thought... As Peredhil, Jakob, and the others watched in wonder, the young woman began to cross the room with the strange detachment of a sleepwalker, oblivious to the mages around...
Peredhil Posted August 8, 2001 Author Report Posted August 8, 2001 Unable to move quickly, Peredhil nods to Elrohir, who nods back. Elrohir moves to follow Yui-chan the best he can, and protect her until she comes back into herself - for she seems not to be enchanted or in pain. Supported on Nuncio's furred arm, Elrond begins moving around the room, healing any who need healing. Guido starts by sheepishly cleaning all the large Guinea Pig dropping piled where they'd stood, and then begins cleaning up the mess. Elladan slumps wearily into a chair. It looks as though there is a lull in action. From the wary expressions in the room, no one thinks that the Incident is over...
Jakob Posted August 8, 2001 Report Posted August 8, 2001 It takes a few moments for the shock of Spellbinder's undoing to wear off. Jakob's mouth still hangs open with incredulity... "What in bloody blazes happened?!?!?" He grumbles at the somewhat inexplicable turn of events... With a slight shake, he looks around and quickly moves to the aid of the other mages in the room... "M'Lady..." he offers a steadying hand to the Huntress "Oh my dear, I am terribly sorry. In my current agitation I have forgotten that you have asked me not to address you so. Yui-chan. Here, allow me to help you, my dear... Careful. That's it... sit here..." Deftly, he snares a chair with an outstretched foot and pulls it near for her to sit upon... With the help of Elrohir, he guides her to it and allows him to seat the dazed Huntress... Turning from Yui-chan, he surveys the rest of the battered room. With a determined look on his face, Jakob comes to a silent decision... Turning, he makes his way towards the wall nearest him. As he approaches, he is heard to say one word.... "Arch!" With a whispered hiss... a large, emerald-hued metal archway appears in the wall. Enclosed within, shimmers a pool of silver light. With a last glance back into the room, Jakob steps through and vanishes... to be followed immediately by the disappearance of the strange arch....
Zadown Posted August 8, 2001 Report Posted August 8, 2001 Mist starts to form in the room, obscuring the floor, slowly. Traces of it had been there already some time ago, but nobody had been looking then... And then, in one surging movement the mist rises and thickens, slightly chilling everyone in the room with its cold touch. In the middle of the forming mist, next to the bodies of Zadown of the Rogs and Meatgrinder, a shape appears, flickering, shimmering and swirling - Inhumatus is here. It surveys the room slowly, and everyone who meets its gaze feels far more chilled than the mere mist can make them. The dark spots the spectre has for eyes speak of pain and loss. Then it lowers its head and turns to stare at Zadown's torn body. It holds that pose for a moment, growing more substantial, powered by the death of one so close to it. Then it rises its head and starts to wail like a Banshee - a wailing, keening scream of death and desolation, of eternal pain without release and of the bleak certainity of no release. It sings its envy of the living ones who can die and powers it by the emptiness of existence without meaning, both paying homage to those that fell in the battle and inflicting pain upon those who remain purely out of spite. After minutes that stretch to feel like hours for all those who are hit by the wail, it stops and draws its spectral no-dachi, Pain, the same sword that the Dreamer himself used, to salute the fallen.
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