Burning Heart 7/27 CoD

Far to the north of Theria, locked deep within the mountains, Dun Task and his companions venture. Seeking a man notorious for stealing weapons of great value, head adorned by a brilliant red gem said to appear as if flame. Several times had they nearly caught them, yet not were they able to catch him.

Wastes of white and cliffs of ice were all that their eyes might set upon- the occasional sighting of their quarry in the distance- until at last it seemed as if they had caught up to him. He stood above a large- nay, a massive- hole that stretches wide across the ground. Steam and smoke emanate from its gaping maw, reaching high into the sky above them afore being dispersed.

And then he jumps into it.

Should they approach, they see him fall down, down into the depths- then vanish as he seems to reach the bottom, landing within an ethereal glow of deep orange. Spiritual energy emanates from those depths, nearly palpable to those present who are spiritually attuned.

The group could turn back here, of course- or they could dive after their quarry.

Yet only a fool would jump to certain death.
[21:33] After taking a heavy hit of Sylavanum, Valero was UP, and running once more. In fact, this was the best he's felt in MONTHS! Mostly because the past few months he's been suffering withdrawal, but-

That's then, and this is now!

Which right now meant they were venturing up the mountains in search of some weapon thief to take... Something snazzy from them, obviously. Such is their rights as Therians, and former dog person.

Can't forget about that.

Though it's thanks to that Sylavanum that Valero has boundless enough energy to make the trek up the cold mountain, and towards the quarry. The cold, while annoying wasn't something new to him. He had spent most of his life in Theria, and had become rather accustomed to it.

"Oh hey, it'-" Valero finds himself beginning to speak, as he spotted their target. Only... Only to see them leap down a hole. Which to a rational person would be their signal to call itquits, and go home, but this group of people?

Most of them, if not all of them were batshit insane.

"PFfft. What a fuckin' IDIOT! Bet he thought that would stop us." Without an ounce of hesitation, or fear.. Valero jumps.

Down the rabbit hole he goes.
(Valero Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Dun would pace forth with his remaining arm balled into a firm fist by his side, the elder statesman of Theria moving forth in pursuit of the faint mana signature into the distance with the nose of a bloodhound. With the siege of Theria won, his focus had to return to his project. His remaining years weren't many, and this last gift to Theria would be his most important.

The dogged pursuit would lead to burning crags far north, almost ranging in Barsburgian no man's land in their determination to acquire the Ruby of Ifraheim. Such a creation was one in a million as the cyclopses of Terraheim described, he wouldn't get another chance like this in his lifetime.

When they finally arrived before the man, cornered at last, he jumped down to what would normally be considered a horrifying death. Task, however, wasn't a goddamn fool.

"No fear."

The old man would do a goddamn backflip deep down into the burning depths below.
(Dun Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Always a slave to a dangerous adventure, Hades finds himself joining in on the mission to track down one of the most dangerous spiritually inclined gentlemen that the magical world had to offer. After throwing a glass of wine across the dinner table just a few nights and swearing that he would not come, mind you.

Eyes settle on the suicide jumper and then down into the chasm itself, noting the insatiable depths that they would need to descend into in order to follow him.

The hood of his cloak is brought up to shield his brown locks from their harsh surroundings, and the scholar squats down at the edge of the abyss to make his initial and completely scientific diagnosis of the occurrence before them.

"Yeah, no. That's a deep hole. Guy is probably dead already."

But once the two ears of his hood extend out fully, he adjusts his thesis.

"Nevermind. He knew what he was doing. I can set a r-" Oh. The fearless elder had already leaped down.

Hades takes three steps forward and leaps in after, melding into the shadows as he goes.
(Hades Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 The blistering lack of temperature has taken a light toll on the Imperator's lethargic treading. Though there is certain, implacable confidence in the way he escorts his allies through the dismal peaks, a vacuum of vibrancy looms around his silhouette.

Cold this harsh would only remind him of one person. One who had decidedly stepped down from his charge in wake of his forced retreat and cycle accomplished. One to be the last to potentially call himself the gundog triumvir's equal, now surrendered to his role.

And though exposure to the blizzard hurts, Walter has chosen to bear it as a memento. For it is the only thing that can soothe and fill the endless void left by a critical event. Victory.

What was there to be achieved now? What else to do but to build for those to come.

Alas, they'd reach the mouth to the depths. An orange glow, only made familiar by his own assassinations, soothes as both the twin and antithesis of star shine. Pearl and jade loom over Dun's silhouette, before the elder chooses to fearlessly jump down.

Unlike the rest of his allies, however, he makes no comment as he follows in pursuit, allowing for his weight to carry him down under.

No fear?

Or no purpose?
(Walter Docro)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 {NARRATION} Diving downwards into the pit, the group find the air becoming hotter and hotter- more intense as they approach that ominous glow- the moment of impact comes- the heat surrounding their forms distorting their vision- they hit the orange plane at the bottom of the pit-

And find that their lives are not rendered forfeit.

Sent through what appears as if some sort of portal, the magi come tumbling to the ground. The heat is nearly suffocating now- some moments would be necessary to catch their breath, to adjust to their newfound environs.

They stand upon a long bridge of simple stonework. Below them stretches a sea of seemingly endless magma- above them, a ceiling of crimson fog. Before them? A huge bridge of smooth black stone.

Standing in-front of them- further along the length of the bridge- stands a tall man, wielding a pair of mis-matched swords. Red garb covers his frame, upon his back six spots for various weapons; four different sheathes- two still holding their blades- a large, heavy hammer, and what appears as if a halberd. Atop his head is a horned helm with a large plume, with that brilliant red gem rested in the center.

Their quarry. The thief of weapons of power and value. He brandishes his blades towards them, then speak out in a booming voice- displaying the breadth of his projection skills.

“You are the fools who have chased me for so long! Come, then- it is time to fight like men! And ladies! And ladies dressed like men!”

His form shifts. It looks like he’s walking closer. But he isn’t- he’s getting bigger, his figure swelling to twice its former scale as he shouts out-

“For Gary, IT’S MORPHING TIME!”

Blades shifted around in an intimidating flurry, he gestures for them to come forth.

 "Father - you promised we wouldn't fight anymore Barsburgian mech- oh."

It was no mech. It was Gary, with six arms, a blazing aura, and a body that could fill every slot in a party by himself.

A hand raises up to remove Hades' hood and wipe a layer of sweat from his brow right after, flicking it to one side of the massive bridge - only for it to evaporate before it could get anywhere near the sea of magma.

Not that his attention was focused on anything besides the hulking terror before them.

His free hand reaches back to pull Rinn's Retort from its holster and twirl it about. Once... twice.. and on the tertiary swing, he catches it by the trigger, causing the railgun of a staff to react to the Sanguinary Mittens that were holding it set itself ablaze.

Traces of chronos and raw energy swirl about the barrel, and the shadowmancer's shadow casts itself out just a bit wider than any normal person's should.

"Spencer was right. You can't escape from Crossing Fate. Ready when you are."

He speaks to all three of the other Task Team members, fingers idly playing with the trigger of his shimmering rifle as it aims forward.

This was going to hurt.
(Hades Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 The further down the hole they went the more oppressive the heat got. Which was in a stark comparison to the blistering winds they had been subjected to during their climb.

All the while Valero was screaming like a mad-man. Not out of fear, but the sort of scream that comes out while you're riding a Rollercoaster. Although the best part about all of this is when he EXPECTED to splat up against the ground, and probably die.

He didn't!

Instead he was transported to another realm, probably Ifraheim, but he would refrain from making assumptions for now. Cause y'know what they say about assuming.

"Gah! The heat is... Awful. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it..." He repeats those words a few more times, as he takes a moment to catch his breath, and properly soak in his surroundings. Seems like they were on a stone bridge, and-

Oh fuck.

The guy they were searching for is here! That made tracking him down a whole lot easier.A hand moved towards the hilt of his Ill-Mannered revolution, gripping it's handle tightly as the sword-spear was brought from it's position on his back.

"Oh! OH! Are we fighting?" He responds towards the man's statement with a wide grin on his face. A claw-like hand would make quick work of disposing of his own eye-patch, allowing the strange clock-work mechanism that functioned as his eye, to become visible.

"Clock up."

With that, the man's entire body erupted with violet mana, as the oppressive nature of the occult could be felt surging off of the drugged up Warlord. The violet mana would slowly begin to seep from his own body, and towards his blade.

"No clue who this Garry fellow is, but FUCK 'em, and FUCK you too!"

Such kind, and gentle words to say before rushing someone.
(Valero Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Walter acts out of instinct. As soon as their fall becomes impeded by the appearance of a construction, namely a bridge, the bruteforce extraordinaire takes ahold of the fireblooded's elder with one of his hulking limbs, whilst the opposite arm removes one of three iconic weapons from his back. Namely, the strongest of all three, Yahoel.

"Tch!"

With a cocking sound from the magical flintlock hammer, and a long winded swing cast, a massive current of mana ripples down, creating a shockwave potent enough to slow their descent down from the counter-effect. After which, they'd all see themselves landing in much less adverse variables, now no longer coming to splatter down against the overpass at terminal speeds.

Alas, he lets go of the elder upon making his graceful descent. Nigh colorless hues fall upon the weapons master up ahead. Seemingly, a worthy challenge.

"Spencer..." Ah, the faraway memory of gun nun. What a lovely lady. Thoughts are spared to her wellbeing, wherever she may be. A sneer mutates atop the imperator's features, though not one quite as vicious as he was characteristically known for.

Walter swaps weapons. King Alexander's being the first royal arm deployed for combat, now encased in a vibrant red halo, unlike the yellowy starlight that its mythril may have been normally used to.

Yahoel, formerly used by Queen Serea, is sidelined for the time being.

Would this be a combat between trophy collecting swordsmen?

"Fools?" Smugly said. Walter makes a short pause. "Some of us may even take that title as an honor! Poor assessment of qualities. Hardly trash talk!"

Grinning, the Imperator heeds to his claim, thus charging forward in a similarly radiant halo of light.

"Ah-HAH-HAH-HAH!"
(Walter Docro)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Dun would tumble forth through the great burning rift upon the obsidian bridge, slamming down upon Walter's stone mitt with a clank of his king's silver as he grunted with light discomfort before shrugging lightly. He'd had worse falls, of that there was no doubt. But this one wasn't great. The heat was intense, sure, but he'd been burned alive in Garljing's arrival, so he really didn't feel much of anything anymore.


The hollow, etheric orbs of the old man's visage would stare down Gary with nothing less than draconic avarice as he sensed his quarry. The weight of the Terraheimic Onyx, the frigid chill of the Uraheimic Sapphire, they tingled in his cloak at the mere sense of this realm. As if missing their brother in the elemental rim.

Soon, he thought. Soon he would have what he desired.

"I have done two out of three in that list, and I will let you determine which as we rob you. Square up."
(Dun Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Walter finally does a swift swapping motion. King Alexander's mighty dirk is changed by the Imperator's signature weapon. The atmosphere flares up immediately once it ignites!

"Tcha-tcha-tcha…"
(Walter Docro)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Dun Task says, "No fear."
 {NARRATION} Gary rent a bloody swath. At first, it appeared as if his blows were without true bite- yet as the battle progressed, his booming laugh echoing across the bridge with each swing- it’s as if the hulking man threw his all into the battle, each strike drawing a painful cost.

Yet as he lay locked into combat with Walter, Hades, and Valero, he was not prepared for the surprise the Elder man had prepared- a ball of pure energy striking into his back, sending him flying backwards.

He keeps his feet for a moment, stumbling, staggering before the four warriors- then falls to his knees- his swords stuck into the ground as he attempts to catch his breath. His head snaps up to look at them- and then he looks past them, face twisting to a visage of shock. Releasing the hilt of one of his blades, he points behind the group.

“Look! A pony!”

In the moment they looked away, he stood- dropping a small bomb from his side which explodes into billowing smoke as he retreats further along the bridge. It’s nearly comedic how he appears to be jog-walking. It wouldn’t be hard to catch up to him once he stops, but he moves surprisingly fast for such a big man.
 Hades Task says, "Where's the p-"
 Valero Task says, "Wait did he say-"
 Dun would dance across the battlefield the battlefield as the two swordsman and the rifleman laid down heavy shots and brutal slashes keeping the great thief occupied. It was almost too easy to begin tossing ambient blasts of decaying energy, slowly drifting past the man through the air until the very dimness of the bridge was alit.

And they all condensed forward upon the big man, exploding forth with a payload of decaying etheric energy. The kind of spiritual flame that seared to the bone beyond matters of common fire. It seemed the battle was won.

Until it wasn't, the jog walking giant disappearing as the pony was offered and sprinting across the bridge with an escape bomb. Something he could sense because Dun was blind.

"AFTER HIM, WE'LL LOSE HIM IN A REALM AS BIG AS THIS."
(Dun Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Everything had gone according to plan. Enough time had been spent distracting the weapon thief for their father to land a surprise attack. No one truly expects the old man to do anything, and that?

That would be their downfall.

Not that Valero was even in on this plan. He was far too lost in both his own madness, and his drug induced frenzy. It's okay though, he was having a Hel of a time!

Yet, as Gary lay defeated something he said, would forever change the course of this encounter.

'Look! A pony!'

There was a small portion of Valero that knew there was no pony. C'mon, they were in Ifraheim, there was no way horses were here- Unless fire horses existed.

By GOD did he now want to see a fire horse. So of course... This meant he'd look away, and the moment he did, Garry took the chance to retreat further down the bridge.

Worst of all? There was no fire pony.

"My disappointment is immeasurable, and my day is ruined."

With that said, he'd slip into the shadows and attempt to give chase towards the fleeing fiend.
(Valero Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 "Shit!"

Hades fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.

In a dramatic pivot of his heel, the chronomancer looks around in search of a flaming steed that might be coming to mow them all down. It isn't until he finishes the 360 that he notices the plume of smoke that leads to Gary's semi-speedy retreat to another part of the bridge.

Parts of his attire had been singed blacker than it already was, and it becomes apparent that the eldest Task was anything but pleased by the dupe.

Rather than chasing after him, however, one of his mittened hands reaches out to grasp at the very fabric of the realm before them. The fiery pits of the Spirit Realm are flooded with floating glyphs and runework pertaining to the darkest depths of Helheim, and a gash is made between them and the fleeing dual-wielder.

"No point in sweating more than we have to here. Follow me."

And he dashes forth, carving out the rift into the size of a man - albeit not one Gary's size. Never that large.

If things go according to plan, Hades and those who follow emerge a deal closer to Garymesh, saving them much needed oxygen.
(Hades Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Gary fights like no man. The swirling motions that carry his blade to their targets can only haphazardly be fended back by the two hulking men at the frontline, them being the Therian Warlord and ruler of Osrona. As the monstrous dual wielder picks up his own pace, the entirety of the team finds itself staggered completely at least once.

Yet, via abuse of their strongest faculties, them being Valero's overclocking of mana, Walter's disintegration magic, and Hades' cracks in space and time allowing for ad-libbed, coordinated, unexpected assaults on the visage of the bandit, Gary would find himself pressed enough for the elder Task to deliver a proper tide-turner.

And whilst the imperious kitsune, too, briefly falls for his diversion, he sulks not on it before opening chase. His gaze shoots straight for the alchemist extraordinaire, addressing him with a nod.

"Quickly!"

Roughly cheating, if this were a race. Yet, would Ifraheim's depths of scorch and molten care?

Riftmancy it would be.
(Walter Docro)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[22:30] {NARRATION} It took them not long to catch their quarry once more, yet as they approach he lets out a billowing laugh, his two blades stuck into the ground.

“You are tough! But not tough enough to face me!”

His laugh continues as he takes up his weapons once more- the two lodged in the ground, and the four others from his back as four more arms reveal themselves. Brandishing all six implements of pain towards them, he barks out joyfully!

“Come! We commence once more!”
 Hades Task says, "Where'd you even get those arms fr-"
 Dun would use his time accelerated swiftness and Hades masterful riftery to cut off the fleeing fell thief of Ifraheim. It was readily apparent to the old sorcerer that this six armed sonova bitch wasn't gonna give up the Ruby without a fight.

Luckily, they were sons of Theria and also a dog emperor kingslayer. The fight was all they had.

"Debatable."

The battle began.
(Dun Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 "Now that's what I call evolution."

And in that moment, a great deal of respect is earned for the titan of a fighter.

… But not enough respect to keep him from attacking.

A clip of time-based bullets are loaded into the chamber of the ultra rifle, and Hades prepares for the battle to come.
(Hades Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 "Ah - a show off!" In equal arrogance, the vibrant baritone of the debauchery enzyme contests the weapons master.

Walter's opposite arm flails to his rear, retrieving a second weapon. Once more, Alexander's cosmic dirk. For the purposes of their bout - he would dual wield. Both weapons are swallowed by that same oppressive, overbearing halo of radiation.

"Then, that makes two of us."

He grins, for he is ready.
(Walter Docro)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 From the shadows, and into his brother's portal.

It seemed like the best thing to do really.

"WOO!" The Warlord cheered out, as he soared through the rift, and onto the other side, which turns out? Was really closer to Gary. They had cut the bastard off.

"Am I seeing things, or does he have more arms now? I am high so-"

No. Those were very real.

"Well shit. No fear."
(Valero Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 {NARRATION} It appears that Gary truly was holding back. With all six arms revealed, his blades cut through each of the gathered fighters- blood and flesh rent apart. Blood is spilled in rivers- yet it is not only the blood of the four adventurers that is spilt.

Gary is covered in a plethora of deep rends, the fiery ichor within mingling with that of the occultists, Dun, and Walter- though such only invigorates him further.

Valero is skewered through the leg, sent tumbling to the side of the bridge- nearly falling off, if not for the guiderail.
Hades is caught in the throat by the blunt edge of a foreign blade, stunning him and causing him to collapse to the ground.
Dun is pierced through his chest, armour providing little resistance as the elderly man’s internals are sent astray. He’s tossed to the side, crumpling in a heap.

Walter is the only one left standing, staring off with the hulking brute who has seemingly killed Dun and sent the rest of his companions to the ground. Back against the edge of the bridge, his swings leave him open for the Imperator’s attack- both blades coming up to decapitate Gary-

-only for the man to stumble backwards in a last ditch effort to evade the killing blow. He succeeds, yet-

-he continues to stumble back, falling off the side of the bridge with a flail of his arms and a shout. He falls quickly, as befitting his weight- one of such grand size does not weigh lightly- and is no doubt dead to the magma below, his possessions lost.

Should they dash to the side of the bridge, and look down to where his form is likely melting with the hot liquid- they would find a potentially comedic sight moving away from the bridge at high speeds.

Comedic, if it didn’t mean their loot was escaping.

Upon a great wave of lava, the man garbed in red rides upon a board of rock- surfing away from his hunters. He’d no doubt escape unless they continued their chase, yet…

How would they do so?
[23:36] By the skin of their teeth, and on the brink of defeat, the dreadfront manages to pull a narrow win.

Both his protegees and elder are pitted against narrow, certain death at the maw of the heated depths of the spiritual realm. His brothers edging in on it, Valero on the brink of falling whilst Hades lies wounded and staggered in wake of Gary's assault.

Dun, impaled by one of several glaive-long swords, is seemingly a lost cause.

Yet, these were the moments in which Walter truly excelled. When the odds were stacked against him the most, when it was time to truly represent and restate his plea to dominate like a cry of hunger.

The more wounded and pressed he is, the faster and harder his strikes are. Yahoel, once Serea's weapon, as well as the Cosmic Broadsword, once carried by Alexander II, flail in circular motions, deflecting the armsmaster's own whirling battering. Every clashing of metal resonates across the molten depths like thunder. Air ripples. Something about Walter's often elegant, arrogant trashtalky behavior grows less refined, far more animalistic.

"Die...die...die...die...die!"

They are both at their best. But one is adapting much quicker than the other.

By sheer virtue of speed and density of force, the bearer of the spirit of avarice overwhelms Gary in his own game.

"DIE!"

And though the kitsune charges onward to deliver his coup de grace, narrow luck causes his blow to miss. A near agonizing wail of frustration is suffocated from the root once his prey goes at large again.

"Regroup...!" As the ruler reaches for his healing draught, then immediately blitzes in the vicinity of the wounded elder fueled by little more than adrenaline. "Regroup! Hades... we need another gateway. Tend to yourselves, he's gained the upper hand."

The liquid is slid straight into the fireblooded's mouth.

Walter silently prays for it to make effect.
(Walter Docro)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well now!

Valero was in a whole lot of pain wasn't he? A blade had found it's way into his leg, sending him sliding across the bridge, and over towards the very edge of it, nearly falling off entirely.

"AH! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

Thankfully, he was high as a kite right now, so the pain he felt was rather minimal.

Hurray for drugs!

Thankfully though, Walter managed to push Gary back, nearly killing him, except... Well, he fell off didn't he?

"He keeps GETTING away." The Warlord grumbles, as he pushes himself back up to his feet, his singular bloodshot eye drifts over towards Hades. "Let's put an end to that once, and for all."

As quickly as the man could, he'd begin to limp over towards his brother.

"We got this! Let's fucking GO!"
(Valero Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 As Valero limps over towards Hades, he pulls out an elixir from his bag, and takes a big SWIG from it. Dulling the little pain he felt right now further.
(Valero Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Dun would find that this battle wasn't going quite according to his plans. Chasing down the aggravator had been wise of course, but cornering him, much like a wild animal, meant they were in range too.

Each blast of kinetic energy laden forth from done would be met with another lapping wall of flame, blinding his senses with the excessive amounts of heat and mana as Dun moved to cover his face with his palm.

Leaving him open to a spear right through the chest, his internal organs turned inside out by a brutal riposte without his heavy black plate to stop it as usual. With a sputter of blood from his mouth, the old man would collapse backwards onto the ground in a puddle of blood.

It felt cold. Like Uraheim almost....peaceful. The heat of Ifraheim seemed to dissipate. And though his eyes were gone, for just a few brief moments Dun felt as if he saw Rinn.

So this was the end.

Then Walter had the care and poise to dunk an elixir slurry down his blood sputtered mouth, the brutal wound seeming to leak...just a bit less blood as the warmth returned halfway to Task's form.

Rising slowly, unsteadily, he'd grimace before giving the group a thunbs up, seeing what was planned with a firm nod before he paced forward.

"Well, good thing I don't eat much more than mana anymore boys. I'm pretty sure my stomach is on the ground right now."
(Dun Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Walter Docro says, "You /OWE ME/."
 Dun Task says, "Oh? WHAT PANTS"
 Dun Task says, "ARE YOU WEARING."
 Walter Docro says, "My own, old man. I killed the King for your stinking city."
 Walter Docro says, "You're indebted to me, now."
 Dun Task says, "Pffffft, I armed the entire Family with plate too. Rest in peace..."
 Dun Task says, "Though I hope you don't put too much stake in having a life debt from me, all things...considered."



 Washed like a set of dominos. Like a newborn kitten on a warm Spring day. Like--

Hades stops thinking of comparisons to his injured state and finally rises back to his feet, hand rubbing at the base of his neck. He eventually makes it to the edge of the bridge to see Gary surfing away, and immediately puts his rifle away on his back.

"Another portal? As if it's that easy. First..."

The scholar knows better than to blindly send the group out onto a floating rock in the heat of the fiery Heim.

He gestures for the others to take a step back, then swipes the gauntlet on his hand downward on either side of him. But rather than creating rifts using the cursed language of Helheim, he taps into his talents as an adept time magi and opens up to very blurry green windows.

In the one to his left, the group can be seen leaping down onto a large moving platform and floating for a while, only to sink to the depths of the lava.

In the one to the right, the group slings through a portal and takes a different platform, only for the same effect. An index finger taps his chin repeatedly as his other hand swipes through these other timelines, studying the flaws and successes of the alternate Task Teams.

Just a few seconds later, the chrono-magi finishes his research and tears one rift open.

Rather than hopping into it, he points out a moving platform that was just barely starting to move. It picks up speed, and right when it begins to follow the motions of Gary's terra-based surfboard, the rift is completed.

"Now we go. It is the only way."

And Hades brings his elixir to his mouth and chugs it down, only to lead the chase into the rift. They were going surfing for that which Dun wanted so badly, even in their wounded state.

Hopefully he isn't hit by a cease and desist from the Gun-nun.
(Hades Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 {NARRATION} Hades research was not without fruit. Each platform he witnessed fall into the magma did as predicted- near all except the one he and company stood upon. Gary still holds a mighty lead, yet...

...whether through fortune or skill, they gradually gain upon him- coming close enough to see as he occasionally looks backs towards them- each time faster than the last. Once they come within range of his voice, he turns to face them, shouting out as he now boards backwards.

“You are truly dogged pursuers! I salute your willfulness to succeed! In another time, perhaps we would have been great allies! Yet now is not a time for talk! Victory is within my grasp still!”

A guffaw echoes about the amber sea, and his sextuplet of arms raise into the air- magma rising to his sides, afore he gestures forth, those waves being sent racing towards them!
Bereft of his blades, Gary is no less deadly- in-fact, some could make the claim that he is more terrifying. Waves of magma and flame repeatedly toast the band of adventurers, and even Dun’s deflection does not halt the hulk for long- seemingly only causing Gary to bark out louder laughs, and rain more fire upon the Elder.

The platform they stand upon splits apart in two halves- one which Hades, Dun, and Walter stand upon. The other?

Stands Valero, now the only one within reach of Gary’s own lavaboard. He charges forward, blade singing with the song of death- and rends him in two.

Or at least, that was what was supposed to happen. The blade collides with Gary’s side, and though it cuts deep- he jumps backwards at the last moment, evading sure doom. Mid-jump, his leg comes up and bludgeons Valero’s chest, sending him flying backwards- landing, luckily, onto the platform with his family and Walter.

Laughing in the face of his wounds, Gary stumbles about on his board. Shouting to them-

“It is time we finished this! This is your end, my companions in combat!”

His arms raise high above him- heat being drawn towards the center. A great ball of fire forms above him, nearly as bright as a sun- and just as blinding to look towards. It can be felt from their close distance, and it is without doubt- this much raw power would be enough to, at the least, disable most magi- and they are all greatly wounded already.

Then Gary’s rock-board collides with a spire of rock piercing the sea. Its rent from beneath his feet- the work of magic conjured above him fading to embers in moments- and he...goes…

Flying. Perhaps he should have paid more attention to where he was going.

Without his magical interference, the sea quickly calms- though their own momentums would keep them going long enough to reach the blackened sandy beach where they were able to see Gary land. By the time they reach there, however…

He is gone. Footsteps lead off into the distance, yet it’s unlikely they’d be able to find him once more- he is already out of sight. Yet...upon the ground, where he had impacted- obvious by the great crater in the sand-

Is a brilliant red jewel, reminiscent of the purest flames. Though the thief of weapons remains at large- literally and figuratively…it seems that, at the very least, they have retrieved that which they had sought.

Now they just have to figure out how to get back to Theria.
 {Item} You picked up Gem Of Flame. Dropped by Gary..
 ** Gary has inflicted an injury upon Dun Task. ("Scorched Heart", "Dun's heart was scorched to near-cinders by Gary's blade. The flesh around it healed without true issue, yet the heart is left burnt nearly whole. He'd live- barely- but each beat of his heart would send pain through his chest.", "Permanent", "Severity: MODERATE (-10 Vit)") **



 The lava surfing chase amongst the seas of lava that the depths of Ifraheim contained was as dangerous as expected, truth be told. The kinetic waves of molten fluid had to be deflected. The lapping waves were brutal in their progress, and the heavier it hit them, the more spilled over the sides that needed to be halted.

He was getting too old for this shit.

As a particularly large wave splashed over, Dun's heart was seared by the Ifraheimic, molten heat. It was likely his heart would have actually been melted and destroyed by the assault, considering the chasm that sat in his chest from being impaled by a spear. Yet, it seemed for the first time in his life, his bad luck ended up being good luck.

The frozen curse of Uraheim that plagued his heart ensured it did not smoulder, though the torturous pain was agonizing as each pump of blood through his veins felt like liquid fire. Yet, the old man was acclimated to severe pain, especially burns, and this one would cause him only to wince in severe agony as he paced forth towards his prize...

Leaping upon the shore with severe pain, Dun would slowly fall to his knees upon the ground before clasping the burning ruby of Ifraheim to his chest like a lost child. The black onyx of Terraheim and soft blue sapphire of Uraheim joined them in his hand, and in that moment.

The elemental disk was complete. There was only up and down to go from here.

"...I am in severe pain in just about every definition of the word. This is almost as bad as being burned alive by Garljing, to be honest. But we just surfed the lava of Ifraheim boys, and now?"

Dun would raise the blue, black, and red jewels as they glimmered with realm warping potential.

"Now we go home. We just survived Ifraheim."
(Dun Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 "Don't try it!"

Valero bellowed out, as his grip on his Ill-Mannered revolution tightened. His singular emerald eye stared out towards Garry, glaring at him as he took deep breath, after deep breath.

He stood alone on the platform.

"You... May have the high-ground, but that won't stop me!" The cracked up Warlord screech out, as lunged forward, and somehow against all the odds, he manages to pierce through the impenetrable defense that was the high-ground to cleave the bastard in two.

Kinda like... How Mihalis had done to his sister not too long ago.

Huh. That's a fucked up thing to think about right now. That was either the occult, or the Sylavanum talking. Actually, it was probably both. Whoops?

ANYWAYS!

Everything had seemingly worked out in his favor, but-... Well, he hadn't managed to actually cleave the bastard in half. He had MOSTLY done it, but alas the high-ground was truly impenetrable. For not even a moment later, had Gary's leg connected with his side sending him spiraling towards the platform where the rest of his group resided.

A shame that during his brief flight, his entire right arm would find itself dipped into the molten hot flames of Ifraheim, and well... To say it's in a good shape would be...

So very, very wrong.

Thankfully, his adrenaline was still pumping, that mixed with the Sylavanum he had snorted not too long ago seemed to somewhat dull the incredible pain he should be feeling. Though that's not to say he feels nothing.

He feels nothing but agony...

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Thankfully though, everyone had gathered their STUFF, so it was time to leave. Which meant.... "Ow. Ow... Hades, can you rift us out of here?"
(Valero Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[01:16] Hades snaps out of his feedback trance, feeling himself up to ensure that he was still alive.

Perhaps the myth about spending too much time in the Spiritual Realm was true. Or maybe he was just shaken from the experience.

Whatever the case may be, the scholar looks over to the others without eyebrows and offers a genuine shrug.

"I fucking guess."

The trigger of his gauss rifle is pulled repeatedly, and runes pertaining to the darkest parts of magical knowledge flood outwards.

Rather than using his bloodied hands, the rifle is made to tear open a rift to a snowy land, filled with drakanites and Tasks that they did not know existed until very recently.

"Don't die yet, Walter. You haven't written your will."

He ushers Dun through personally, helping the old timer across the metaphorical street. If Gary was still out there, Hades would absolutely be coming back one day to finish the job.
(Hades Task)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 There are no words. Walter's golden, visor kepi, shot from the cusp of his head, has exposed a second hard-wound upon his visage. Molten matter claims a piece of his priceless silver mien, thus breaking the vibrant, defect-less visage he had worked so hard to hold together.

In the cusp of his apparent youth, at a physical age of not a day over twenty five years of age, Walter Docro lays with a burnt bald spot. His hat is gone, nothing can impede it from being hidden.

Thankfully, he's impossible tall? His chin arches upwards so as to avoid any of his shorter compatriots from ever seeing it.

By Marduk, the shame.

"... die?" He stutters, effectively attempting to swallow the overwhelming surge embarrassment and frustration. "Tch. Tis no more than a flesh wound. A cup of tea and I'll be fine."

His jaw is completely tightened, however.

Walter now carried a grudge. In an attempt to quell dread, he lights a cigarette and makes a feigned jest..

"Everything goes to Olivia. There, that is my will."

Another pause, as he casts his forcefully aloof gaze around. The unbearable heat and redness lain across the backdrop to their quest.

"Rift us back, Hades. This place is making me depressed."

He's reminded of himself, thus instigating further shame. Tragic.
(Walter Docro)