logs

Once more the disgusting creature falls, flailing along the way. More of it's churning, bubbling and burning insides spew out like pitch, catching the stone and melting deep rivulets into it. Pockmarks on the usually clean and bland stone. The creature was knocked down by Lorelei, knocked into his discarded pile of jewels and gold.

The molten flesh and rock ran down into it, reducing the gold to a puddle, a puddle that soon rose up around the man, encasing him almost entirely in the metal, His disfigured body was made to look like a shoddy piece of art. All except for the gloves on his hands, the gloves that still seemed to be around even now, even after all this they weren't even singed.

But, fashion aside, the creature seemed to be faltering. It was nearly ready to fall forever. But it needed one final push.
This time the creature seemed to finally bolster. It was surrounded by the gold it cherished even if it came off of him in burning droplets. The ground beneath his feet scorched and cracked and the shards of the mirror that lay around melted under his presence. He fought well enough to scatter almost all of them, but his attention seemed to be focused on Nahele.

With a warbled, pained voice he spoke you. "You have the most greed here, you have the most want, the most need. You wish to eat me? I can see it in your soul, worshipper of the wolf god. You want to eat me? Then eat me." The creature's mouth opened wide, the molten gold running off of him as he pressed his mouth to Nahele's own.

And then molten flesh began to cascade down into her. Burning pink hot flesh that did what previous injuries did not, they tore through Nahele's insides, melting out her flesh from within. The pour continued until it tore through the bottom of her legs and out between the cracks in her armour, leaving her to die in a puddle of her own ruined flesh and body.

The creature, now empty, fell over with a clatter. It was a dead shell, but it had taken someone with it. It still had the gloves on its hands, untouched, but there was the more pressing matter about what to do with Nahele's remains.

(Nahele has perished by the mirror creature's hands)
Despite having shattered the mirror, it seems Lorelei is spared the wroth of the creature as she fights.

Aquamancy clashes against molten cores, scalding steam erupting from the creature as it strikes and as it lashes it--the woman taking great care to skirt along the edges to not be anywhere near the caustic creation that he was. Was Merlyn capable of forging something so terrible? Was Merlyn even the creator of this creature? Was--

No, it had to come from somewhere else. A repurposed torture-tool of Mordred that came to save him? Was it a fate that Lorelei was deemed to become? Was it a fate that--

Lorelei had become distracted, a surging of magma taking her down against the wall as she frantically tended to her own wounds--aquamancy soothing the burns she had accumulated as the creature fell.

...Only that she neglected to focus on everyone else at the time. They could hold their own--they were the Ragnarok! When the creature fell, surely they'd be able to pick up the pieces.

Only there needed to be pieces left to be picked up. As Lorelei came back to her feet, Demicles in hand, she turns to greet Dumuzid and Lasswell and--

--Nahele?

"What--" She had whispered as the molten remains of the glutton fall to the ground, staring wide-eyed at what had become of one of their strongest. A guard let down at the wrong time? Perhaps it was nothing more the glutton's own vice coming at them. Surely it could never have been Lorelei's lust for power itself.

"...Happened...?"

Just as shocked as the rest, she stares upon the corpse and doesn't yet move.

Surely Merlyn grants the bereved time to accept what has occured.
(Lorelei)
He fought -- With every breath he fought.

Durendal cleaved past every blow of this mutated being. Striking into the flesh of this creature as though it was nothing more than a shell needing to be destroyed, his eyes filled with a new sense of hatred as every powerful blow came struck between this duo. Only to be struck down by a barrage of flames once more, this was what would lead to his own body no longer able to resist the constant strikes. His cloak pushed over his body as he finally fall to the earth, not a single scar upon his flesh as the only outcome is to wait and listen for the sound of destruction that continue to ring freely. His own emotions kept under lockdown as the final sound of death push throughout these halls -- It was obvious before he had even come to look.

One had fallen. This much he knew to be true as his body slowly rose from the earth. The look of this abomination before him instantly recognized, the scarred flesh with nothing but ruined tissue held infront of him. His lips coming pursed as his eyes only stare ahead in that moment -- This was the woman who had taken him in from absolutely nothing. Given him this life of strength and power only requesting his loyalty in return. Boots so gently fall to the earth as his body seem to push forwards in that moment. This event had claimed the life of one that needed only to be saved, this dungeon had claimed the life of one that he had vowed to protect and assure stand for eternity itself.

With not a single word -- Water magic pushing over the singing metals. He plucked her from the ground and over his shoulders.

"I'm leaving." Came his only proclamation as his boots began back towards the door that started this all. The hefty armor pushed upwards only by gravity magic -- He no longer held a single reason to stand where he did here and now. No longer did he hold a reason to fight alongside others in this dungeon without this singular woman standing at his side. Every hefty step taken forwards only a reminder of this despair that had attempted to wrap around his heart once more. The end was so close in sight, yet did it matter if he could not share it with this one he valued above all others? With this one he valued above even himself for that matter? It was to continue forwards.

"I have no intention of pushing forwards without Nahele. My goal now is to fix her."
(Lasswell)
"OhhhhHHHH, I AM-- "

The rumblings of the Imperfect run strongly throughout the foundations of the surrounding dungeon. This was the worst possible scenario. Everything lost at once. It was done - none of them could die. They were all generals. It didn't matter how much they demanded their own deaths with their actions! They had to continue on this teetering balance, or the whole 'platter' went down the slope. "I HAVE GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING!" The Imperfect's glare, while usually piercing, couldn't be any moreso now. "YOU DISPLAY PITIABLE LACK-OF-CONFIDENCE IN FRONT OF ME, YET YOU FLEE FROM THAT MINDSET ANYWHERE ELSE?!"

His words are screamed, and the dungeon is soon rivaled in height as Dumuzid's wings grow out and his form expands in size dramatically. The form of the Kaor Lord returns to the world around, so large that it's almost impossible to raise Balaraq-- though he finds a way, cutting through the stone above to raise it simply nonetheless. "YOU'RE USELESS. LORELEI SAID YOU HAD TO DIE, THAT YOU WERE TRAITOROUS, BUT I VOUCHED-- I SAID YOU WERE STRONG IN MIND-- " His rage is palpable. No, not even palpable - it's within them. It is them. To the humans around, even with the dead naked man (if there was a remaining body), their hearts beat to the tune of Dumuzid's lightning in a vibrant, petulant display of his weight upon them.

His skin in this form was jagged and lacked many of its usual pieces, gaps of lightning causing each piece to hover in place.

"I told her that you were worth keeping, that Nahele's hubris was worth it for the battle in the end's victory. I had attachments to you two, and yet I did not admit it for the sake of hiding from my weaknesses-- " Dumuzid growls intensely, and Balaraq glows brighter as a result. "I am DONE." His hands crush themselves around the hilt of Balaraq, and with an anger unimaginable by the entirety of the humanly race, they charge the tempest-blade with a power like no other. "I WILL CUT AWAY MY WEAKNESSES. LORELEI, YOU WILL JOIN ME."

"Everything. I have given my everything to you two and you have both scorned it so royally. Especially you. You think I did not know you stood loyal to Nahele?", he spat, his saliva a virulent combination of static and heated water. "She vouched for you too. You stood on thin ice. And you know what? That ice is gone. It has melted. I hate you, Lasswell. You're the one opponent I don't care about fighting honorably."

"A duel only suits someone that actually deserves one. Get on your knees and accept my blade to your neck, or face Lorelei and I in combat, I don't care-- "

"For once, you'll actually have to follow my orders. You cannot flee out of this dungeon. And even if you would, I doubt you'd abandon the sheath of your dick's body. You have no choice but to bow."
(Dumuzid Balaraq)
Dumuzid Balaraq: *could
And thus the wraith's attention falls upon Lasswell.

Twitch...

The Malpercian's ire is risen, even if her sympathy beats with him as well. Nahele had fallen and it was a grevious blow to them all. He acts in haste--in emotion. Something that even Lorelei can sympathize with, even if she detests it. What Nahele meant to Lasswell was far more then what Nahele meant to Lorelei.

To Lorelei, Nahele was a glutton. She was a soldier. She was loyal. She was strong. To say Lorelei liked Nahele was to stretch the truth to far--but what Lorelei had for Nahele was a great deal of respect. They were not friends. They would share no idle laughs at the bar. They would not attend each other's weddings, nor children's parties. They would live together, and die together, on the field of battle without the slightest doubt of the other's abilities.

It was a respect forged in blood after numerous trials.

Perhaps it was similar with Lasswell--or perhaps he had more carnal feelings in mind. That his mentor had perhaps morphed to one he loved dearly, just like the undead that puzzle so many. Perhaps that was the reason for his overreaction? No--it is Lorelei's chilled and jaded heart that provokes an underreaction.

Lorelei's mouth opens to speak--only be taken aback by the explosion from the Imperfect, literally staggering back as he explodes. "Imperfect--" She stammers out, herself truely afraid of the raging being as well. What had come over him?

Bit by bit, she understood. He was wounded--for once in a long time, he was wounded. It wore at him physically, it wore at him mentally. On this day, he's mortal. On this day, he's weakened. Fearful--and thus raging.

Lorelei wasn't about to be on the wrong side of that blade.

"Lasswell." She speaks, her tone almost diplomatic in the contrast to Dumuzid, doing her best to keep the eyes on the mission--Merlyn! "...I understand. Nahele was a strong soldier. Nahele was a powerful ally. But we lose allies by the day. We gain stronger ones. Those who die die for weakness. We--" It's a test of their ethos. In her words, Lorelei does not truely believe them--

--Nahele should be alive if they were truely correct. It had flaws, and it had it's own flukes of fate.

"--we need to remain focused. Our allegience isn't to each other. It is to Dumuzid. Our strength is our unity. We cannot have anyone backing down. Dumuzid is absolute. The knight is beholden to the king. The soldier to the general. Recant and repent. Obey the Imperfect--and do not think you can hold allegiences above him.

No gods. No kings. Nothing above him.

He is our cause."
(Lorelei)
Hah -- That was what Dumuzid thought? Those were the words he chose?

His actions were one filled with a new sense of hatred. These were the words above all he refused to heed. The darkness that seep from such a weapon only growing more potent now as he stand with his back turned towards these fools, he wished only to forsake everything that was taught only to stand against this Champion as though he believed it was his own right. His neck seemed to crane as Lorelei spoke, his lips curling upwards in a vicious grin as all he could do was look down upon this creature that he had vowed to stand besides for eternity itself. The waters that rushed around his body now twisting and bending to his whim as he continue to bob from side to side as though even now he stood only to act against this creature of Imperfection.

"You never cared for her, did you? You never cared for this woman that took me in. For this woman that allowed me to stand alongside Imperfection." His words rang sharp as a audible click of his tongue echoed throughout this room. He was leagues above all other soldiers, leagues above those that continually thought themselves able to stand against him and this overwhelming power he alone controlled. "Lorelei -- She is a sister to me. You are all my family, yet you wish only to leave her here to rot? To become a forgotten memory? None of you ever cared, did you?" He spoke once more as the winds that swelled throughout this room only positioned him back towards those before him.

"I am the most powerful Loranthis has to offer. Yet, I will leave my fate up to Lorelei entirely. She will be the one to decide if I live or die in these halls, The Judge of Loranthis."

With this -- The rifle he wielded came drawn.
(Lasswell)
There is a lengthy, terrible silence.

It's not boding well that Lasswell didn't have an immediate answer. It, too, does not bode well for Dumuzid that Lorelei doesn't answer after a brief hesitation. She weighs, in her mind, many, many things.

Nerebia comes to mind as she stares upon the blade that Lasswell wields. The goal ahead, too, lingers--could Lorelei and Dumuzid handle the final creature alone ? It--It was highly unlikely. Would they have to abandon? Would Dumuzid fall as well? Her gaze darts between the final corridors--she hopes--and the path backwards.

...There is no path backwards, she murmors to herself. She was trapped there. There is no way but to move forward.

The violet gaze flickers back ahead.

Silence...

It was clear the gears were churning within her mind and that the answer didn't come easy. "...You speak like a madman, Lasswell." Speaks the wraith as she shakes her head--it doesn't seem as if her decision is made up yet, but it's not aiding her. "We're not sisters. We're not brothers. I detest you Lasswell and I know you detest me. Drop the act. We don't become different people as death is at our doorstop. Know that no matter what happens in this room, we all still may die soon."

Again, silence. Lorelei doesn't move towards Demicles, not yet. She simply gazes towards the path ahead. What if she didn't? What was the future like? Dumuzid had already given up that Lorelei wanted him dead--a vulnerability. A strong vulnerability.

To eliminate Lasswell for it was hypocritical--the same hypocritical thinking she hated her old tribes for. Yet as she comes to mature, she finds it all-so-tempting. To eliminate threats to herself before they can take her life. She very much liked living. Was it inevitable to betray her ideals?

"...Lasswell."

It seems she's finally come to speak with conviction. Demicles is brought between both her hands, grasping the weapon tightly as it thunks in front of her chest as she stares down upon the knight.

He was to be judged, as he willed.

"Know this. Nahele was cared for. Nahele was cared for more then anyone else within Lorathis. More then you. She had grown in power. She had earned her power. She had fought for her power. She was given Armageddon. She was given more free range by Dumuzid himself. It is not a matter of care.

For you care diffferently then we do. You're too human, Lasswell. It has always been your undoing. For how prideful you are. For how vicious you are. You are still but human. Your heart beats red with emotion. You cared--no. You loved Nahele. Perhaps not romantically. Perhaps, like you say, a sister. It's the same heart that damns you now that damned you when I called for your head.

For your are in relations with an enemy zombie. For you couldn't be trusted. It's that ever-growing pulsing, caring heart of yours that means you cannot survive here. It's the vengance that will bolster from Nahele's death. It is the anger that will rise from being brough there. Caring is a sin, Lasswell. It fosters the worst in humanity. It fosters entitlement. It fosters bias.

We have always strove to not love. We have slain those who  have loved. Why did the Pale Dragon die, Lasswell? He loved. He was not a good soldier for it. His allegience wasn't to Dumuzid, it was to his family.

Your allegience, Lasswell, isn't to Dumuzid. It's to Nahele. It's to your lover. It's a toxic thing. It's not something I can fault you for--I hear humans don't have a choice in the matter. I know if you could have chosen not to, you would never have dared.

But it is this pox of caring that brings you here. No soldier can defect without punishment. No caring can be given for it means they're above Dumuzid.

Nothing is above Dumuzid. He is our liege. He is our life. He is our everything.

Know that I personally detest you, Lasswell. I always have. More when you failed to take my life when you took the accursed blade.

...Know that I don't say this now for these reasons. I take death of soldiers seriously. I have granted you the proper respect of letting you know why my decision has been as such.

Soldier. I told you, your end would be in Dumuzid's maw, just as mine will be. On that day, you swore you would accept it with grace.

I advise doing so now if your loyalty is still his."

Demicles is brought to bear--leveled against Lasswell.
(Lorelei)