Log of Final Bal'met Event

Upon His chariot of immortal horses, Neraeos, the God of the Sea, skims the
surface of the ocean from the distant east. Clad in raiment of battle and
adorned with the trophies of His victories in distant lands, He flies swiftly
to over Sapience to land once again in Garden of the Gods.

The winged form of Vastar, God of the Sky, descends from the highest clouds to
the Garden of the Gods. The Garden grows cold at the animosity still present
between He and the Lord of the Wine-Dark Sea.

Stirrings of armies of atavians in the clouds and tritons in sea shows that
some peoples will not unite, even in the face of oblivion.

Radiant as the sun, golden beams streak across the heavens. At their heart,
Aurora, the Lightbringer appears on the firmament above the Pillars of Heaven.

Sweeping the Staff of the Elements through the space before Them, Agatheis
whispers words in the ancient language of the Divine. With a sharp cry, He
pierces the seal placed by Sartan over Nishnatoba.

The calm, calculating voice of Agatheis, the Elemental Lord, resonates, "This
cannot be! His ties to the Fire Behind the Flame are too strong!"

The calm, calculating voice of Agatheis, the Elemental Lord, resonates, "Aeon,
in His boundless vision, has prepared this path for You, Lightbringer. There
lies Your foe. Strike Him down!"

Aurora's face glows with the certainty of victory as She pushes the Sword of
Dunamis deeper into Bal'met, and the Devourer of Gods writhes in torment upon
the blade.

Bal'met's strength dwindles as the screams of Dala'myrr ring out in a
cacophonous riot.

Suddenly a swell of energy courses through the ebbing form of Bal'met, and the
inimitable blaze of the Fire Behind the Flame surges within Him.

With a shout of despair, Aurora is thrust backward from the portal, the Blade
of Dunamis still gripped in Her hands. As She falls She is consumed by a
searing flame of pure ivory, disappearing from sight.

The calm, calculating voice of Agatheis, the Elemental Lord, resonates, "The
Fire! The connection is simply too strong! We have no chance unless it's
severed."

After a moment's hesitation, the ancient blue eyes of the Master of Elements
turn hard with resolve. Agatheis readies His staff and advances upon the
portal, hurling Himself through to Nishnatoba and closing the way behind Him
with a deafening crack of thunder.

Your surroundings bend and shudder, warping your vision as you detect an abrupt
change in the fabric of reality, as though some grip upon the world has been
released.

Agatheis, the Elemental Lord has succumbed to the terrible fury of Bal'met.

The stormy heavens rumble, you suspect as a byproduct of unseen lightning. The
shuddering grows more distinct, and you realize it is not thunder, but the
clamour of the Gods upon the Pillars of Heaven.

The firmament burns with white-hot fire as the pure, baritone voice of
Deucalion calls out, "Aeon restored Aurora to Us. He was confident She would
turn the tide. She wields My sword, and all those faithful to Good stand ready to march at Our call. This is the hour of Bal'met's defeat."

Oneiros, God of Peace thunders, "Caution is called for, Deucalion. History is
replete with examples of prophecy misinterpreted. Fate is cruel to those who
manipulate her. No one knew this better than Aeon."

Arlanda, Egand, Gwyddon, Aeden, Terra, Marina, Vansittart, Vilifay, Kard,
Phelia, Ezekiel, Krypton, Tulliana, Feron, Caoimhaen, Imaji, Alrena, Tanaar,
Eurulis, Kroac, Xadzia, Dida, Mako, Erikka, Rangor, Sorantia, Nim, Skye,
Achilles, Adet, Nixxe, Kalexei, Gio, Athanei, Cooper, Vaxarn, Kaden, Kairuni,
Maethros, Trevalyan, Gwawr, Traxtin, Valnurana, Neraeos, Xae, Garlan, Mina,
Hyano, Arionna, Veldrin, Noristae, Rohn, Hart, Mephaos, Hiroma, Chani, Tesha,
Champion, Jasaadi, Elaina, Alarke, Asmodron, Beatrice, Aovul, Lukis, Gauthus,
Hong, Nenaile, Hegua, Corina, Orina, Bluef, Adalie, Sable, Ashlog, Vyldrix,
Thaumas, Hideyoshi, Eilethil, Entaro, Kray, Farran, Reptilios, Azor, Shihai,
Katzchen, Kenway, Dracot, Jarconma, Arryn, Pollus, Kyrra, Kybrae, Emergo,
Zephyros, Aruha, Bahram, Kuei, Ayleth, Lianca, Koe, Dunn, Sanek, Bhayn,
La'ramhis, Velyse, Gerard, Teela, Darklyre, Stuart, Shandria, Ilena, Quei,
Kohinoor, Extrum, Alexius, Areigna, Ephram, Ramzi, Searnla, Umbreatum, Avto,
Xeran, Ryanna, Aidyn, Zuko, Beneficia, Kazu, Drefan, Trayu, Ginmund, Voc, Sidai
, Aerek, Dorn, Prydwyn, Phaestus, Salindera, Desini, Vastar, Leota, Exelethril,
Ksenia, Jacen, Ranun, Mindry, Rheve, Bellator, Ravien, Iocun, Namino, Payne,
Farcus, Tynil, Averi, Artemis, Lodi, Sherazad, Zutar, Wronic, Saibel, Ardelia,
Thoth, Scarlatti, Desmera, Azuhi, Hurisean, Amitation, Goraidh, Arabeth,
Cynlael, Agathon, Yen, Clark, Leiri, Siena, Eld, Hermaldo, Shahai, Torrent,
Vasha, Kaiu, Athanasius, Arador, Eilona, Kii, Jack, Friedrich, Maximillian,
Amram, Lycienne, Koria, Sultani, Aliara, Cahin, Mariel, Avonela, Bal'met,
Ripley, Brym, Alaric, Ognog, Haldor, Oujia, Nijias, Coord, Trey, Xith, Skual,
Syth, Amorie, Verily, Andrea, Shista, Arcite, Huntre, Anaidiana, Aurora,
Ryukishi, Oryius, Jhui, Daemian, Zincor, Hannah, Masaryk, Aeryllin, Karai,
Ahrehn, Salvar, Illyose, Wyverex, Tyehr, Ferdaus, Daslin, Elianon, Caleth,
Ourania, Barrons, Danika, Ysebelle, Novak, Swadryt, Keiden, Pandora, Alazne,
Zenui, Arkailus, Sena, Zaki, Jhaeli, Krognak, Abernathy, Lyr, Cinya, Xorot,
Jain, Firien, Lacertix, Garao, Mariya, Amunet, Daitya, Cesarina, Faolin, Davio,
Julius, Kohilo, Tzond, Sivartes, Nolsae, Skegonga, Artus, Akia, Friztic, Twil,
Favonius, Rovelda, Kayeil, Garis, Texel, Akemi, Dascha, Mithaokhta, Crono,
Odhrin, Aoklin, Daklore, Haldon, Arubus, Zbaco, Kyriella, Canasius, Beladera,
Karron, Oneiros, Indilwen, Josoul, Tirac, Babel, Tasleus, Hayte, Alcinae,
Hanley, Mioswen, Knucker, Archeas, Verias, Malec, Champion, Selira, Sykes,
Tarkor, Drahil, Mathonwy, Laila, Senoske, Learyn, Boosteya, Daine, Roroan,
Samakhulis, Layna, Raelynn, Oceana, Barudflunkus, Liros, Alim, Shekal, Lynara,
Tukio, Silviarae, Orik, Darqiss, Shunsui, Nicia, Arua, Santar, Inara, Rispok,
Ruth, Taldem, Tagg, Halos, Mosr, Erlan, Rotose, Sohl, Anmacrix, Finchy, Sanaki,
Traelor, Ysera, Rasloe, Baatti, Melodie, Minxie, Nicator, Prospero, Xer,
Tenevriel, Rixie, Savira, Rollanz, Vasriia, Inc, Kaevan, Trilliana, Lydia,
Amanu, Dracunos, Cobault, Jinnean, Naomh, Baptiste, Cecee, Zeon, Rugnar, Aegis,
Kilic, Sardaug, Elerwinna, Anarwaen, Dortheron, Muokr, Tiarna, Perl, Atalkez,
Amira, Serendi, Moriana, Sheetaa, Shaol, Yuna, Jorox, Niks, Talonia, Chryenth,
Nalitia, Pontus, Laytron, Mhaela, Beya.
Plus another 99 whose presence you cannot fully sense.

Across the battlefields and plains of Achaea, the voice of Aegis, God of War
resounds like thunder, "Even You cannot believe there is a peaceful solution,
Oneiros. We cannot leave Bal'met caged on Nishnatoba! We must strike!"

Your spirits soar as the voice of Vastar, the Skylord rumbles through the sky,
"The only way to face Bal'met now is directly upon Nishnatoba. Do you not
realise the risk? We lose all advantage the moment we step foot upon that
battlefield."

Ringing through the ether on a resonating harmonic, the voice of the Great Bard
resounds, "We would be little more than mortals facing certain death."

The sweltering heat of the forge spills out across the land as the rumbling
voice of Phaestus booms, "It's now or never. Agatheis broke Bal'met's hold over
the Fire, but he'll wrestle it back sooner or later. We have to move."

The silken voice of Lord Twilight emanates from the shadows, "You can try Your
hand. I'll not take part."

The moans of thousands of souls echo from the grave as the cold, silken voice
of Thoth, God of Death resounds, "I am sure none of Us are surprised at Your
apathy in this. We need You not."

The ethereal whisper of Valnurana, Goddess of Sleep and Dreams, drifts across
the realm, "No. This cannot be done by a selection of Gods. That plan has
failed over and over. This requires the force of the full Pantheon together."

Rich motes of lucent clarity suffuse the skies as the Lightbringer evokes, "We
must all commit, and We must commit fully. Nothing can be held back. There can
be no more contingencies, no more fall backs."

Thoughts of Fame and Fortune fill your mind, as the grand voice of Prospero,
the Merchant Lord booms, "You suggest a gamble based on Aeon's foresight, which
even He lacked at the end! Remember, the last of Us who gambled everything saw
His luck run out."

The earth rumbles ominously as the voice of Artemis, Goddess of the Cataclysm,
booms across the firmament, "I agree with Aurora. If this is Our end then let
Us face it. I will not hide, cowering in the shadows, waiting for Bal'met to
claim Me."

The words of the Gods revert once more into the incomprehensible tongue of the
Divine as They debate the course of action now set before Them.

Graceful and majestic, the silhouette of the Great Grey Owl is cast upon the
thundering clouds by intermittent flashes of lightning.

The owl soars across the heavens upon silent wings, keenly observing all of
Creation and taking in the full extent of the ongoing turmoil wrought upon the
world.

Washing over the world is a palpable aura of uncertainty as the owl banks and
turns, rising on an upward draft to disappear among the stormclouds.

Smoothly descending from the cloudbank, the Great Grey Owl reappears upon the
firmament, circling above the Siroccian Mountains before wheeling and landing
upon its highest peak.

The warm, clear voice of Maya, the Great Mother, rings out from beyond the
Veil, "Now is the time for all, mortal and divine, to put aside their
grievances."

The warm, clear voice of Maya, the Great Mother, rings out from beyond the
Veil, "Come, gather at the Shrine of Ascension, for the fate of the world lies
in your power."

[Moving.]

He is a radiant immortal and is clad in simple traveling clothes including
sturdy leather sandals, loose brown pants, a simple grey shift and a dusty
brown jacket. He is completely naked.

Cooper added this for a room desc: http://pastebin.com/SQKAJamw

Maya looks around, Her eyes filled with concern for the fate of the mortals who
stand before Her.

Maya, the Great Mother says, "Gods of the Pantheon, and cherished mortals, you
are summoned to bear witness, and to attend a cry for help."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "For two centuries and more have I borne the torch
passed unto Me, raised by the Logos to uphold the balance betwixt Creation and
Destruction."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "But even these forces do not rule absolutely.
Transcending and underlying all is the Fire Behind the Flame, the foundation of
every aspect of our existence."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "The Fire has been touched by the hand of Bal'met,
who has drawn its power away from the world and unto Himself."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "And so Yggdrasil ails. The immortal Gods suffer
mortal fates. The very planes come untethered."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "And Bal'met grows stronger."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "Not since the dawn of humanity have we faced a
fate so grim; nay, not since the beginning of time."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "The Fire Behind the Flame must be renewed and
purged of its corruption. It can no longer burn untended, and requires a
guardian of singular purpose: a creator to unmake the wrongness that has taken
hold of it."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "Great is My power, but this is a thing I cannot
do."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "The mantle of Supreme Creator must pass from My
shoulders, to be taken up once more by the Logos."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "Only He possesses that immeasurable knowledge
with which the Fire Behind the Flame can be restored and preserved for
eternity."

The Great Mother looks to the Logos, who remains still, clouded in thought as
long moments pass.

At last Sarapis nods.

Clasping Her hands together, the Great Mother's eyes close, and She is wreathed
in radiant light that emanates from within Her very being.

The resplendent corona flickers about Maya's regal form, intensifying until it
is nearly blinding, and a faint, shadowy contour is all that can be seen of the
Great Mother amid the brilliance.

Maya outstretches Her arms toward the Logos and takes His hands in Hers. Slowly
the blazing light passes from the Great Mother to Sarapis, encompassing them
both as a sudden gust of wind stirs the Shrine of Ascension.

Gradually the light begins to fade around Maya, but even as it vanishes from
the Goddess it more brilliantly illuminates the Logos, until it is He who is
nearly obscured by the radiant display.

Maya, the Great Mother says, "So it was, so shall it be."

Sarapis, the Logos says, "So it was, so shall it be."

As the words of the Logos echo upon the mountaintop, He is consumed in the
corona of light and disappears.

Awash in stillness, the mountains seem lonely with the sudden absence, and Maya
looks off toward the twin peaks of Mount Sinope and Mount Callisto, Her eyes
sombre but filled with wisdom and clarity.

Maya, the Great Mother says, "Truly, the Logos has an arduous task set before
Him. But He is not alone, and the Gods labour to defeat the threat to our
world."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "So, too, must you."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "You must travel to Nishnatoba, where you will
stand with the Gods against Bal'met."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "Many are the ways to reach the distant battle,
but heed Me now."

Forcefully gesturing with both hands to the ground at Her feet, Maya spreads
wide Her arms and a pool of swirling water bubbles up in the centre of the
plateau. Tongues of primal fire lick over its surface, burning improbably above
the churning basin.

Maya, the Great Mother says, "Enter this pool, hold fast to the strength found
within yourself, and emerge upon Nishnatoba not as a mortal..."

Maya, the Great Mother says, "But as a mighty Demigod."

Taking a deep breath, X steps into the whirling pool and disappears
beneath the surface.

Rangor says in a deep, rumbling voice, "So, where is that bastard."

As you are pulled within the swirling vortex, your body and soul expand and
contract, twisted and thrown about as if by a turbulent gale. One moment it
seems your soul is torn apart from your body; a second later your body seems a
heavy weight lying deep within your soul.

Always moving forward, you are spun and woven through the fabric of reality,
and the tempestuous journey seems to last for eons before all is suddenly calm.

You find yourself standing in a small cavern; at its centre stands the
grey-cloaked figure of Sarapis, the Logos. Solemn and consumed in thought, he
stands before a column of primal fire, pondering its innate existence as it
burns endlessly across time and space. Aeyr flanks the inferno's other side,
his gentle, grey eyes locked in concentration upon the enigmatic flames.

With slow, deliberate movements the Logos moves his hands, drawing filaments of
the Weave from the ether and shaping them carefully, adding them to the Fire
Behind the Flame and releasing them to burn in glorious union with reality.

Suddenly, without warning, a spark leaps out from the Fire Behind the Flame,
making contact with your chest and throwing you backward with a forceful
discharge of energy. Rather than landing on the ground, however, you find
yourself once again tumbling through the ether within the maelstrom of
Creation.

For another eternity, you are tossed about, but slowly the spinning subsides
and you find yourself standing, alone, within a quiet grotto.

The voice of the Great Mother whispers, "Since your first cries I have watched
over you, My child, as I have done for all mortalkind across the planes. You
have grown much, and achieved even more. And yet... your time is only just
beginning."

Your heart races as you swell with tremendous power and your mind expands, a
burgeoning source of willpower and endurance welling up deep inside you.

The voice of the Great Mother whispers, "Long have I enjoyed immortality, but
the time draws near for Me to seek a mortal end. With My final blessings I
grant unto you a portion of My own Godhood."

Divine fire flares about you, and you feel capable of tapping into the Weave
itself, bringing forth a torrent of power so vast it could instantly vaporise
any mortal being.

The voice of the Great Mother whispers, "Take this gift and fulfil your
destiny. The streams of Time must once again flow freely. But be warned that
this newfound immortality will not last forever."

Your race is now that of Demigod.

The voice of the Great Mother echoes in your mind, "Your transformation is
complete. Go and do what must be done."

Flashing with amaranthine lightning, black smoke rolls over Nishnatoba, rising
to form the recognisable images of gods lost to the raw power of Bal'met.

One by one they appear, loathsome and corrupted beyond measure: the many-armed
shade of Indrani, the darkly beautiful form of Selene, and the enraged,
armoured shadow of Matsuhama, and more... twelve dreadful figures rise with the
horrifying will of Bal'met.

[Everyone trying to kill the shades.]

Between the flickering mesh that comprises the thin Veil of Creation can be seen glimpses of
Nishnatoba, the legendary battlefield, aswim with Dala'myrr as they rove across the endless plain.

Within the heart of the battlefield rises a towering plateau girded by seething clouds of oily black
mist. Cruel and imperious, the terrifying god Bal'met looms upon the elevated stage, the would-be
Worldreaver bent on utter domination.

The din of clashing blades and dying screams echoes across the planes as the armoured figure of
Aegis appears upon Nishnatoba, His eyes focused upon Bal'met.

Humming softly in the air, a tranquil note heralds the stoic form of Oneiros, and War and Peace take
Their places upon the battlefield.

Stormclouds gather and swell, rumbling with thunder as Vastar, the Skylord, reclaims their command
and appears upon Nishnatoba. Lightning flashes and strikes at His side, igniting a spark that erupts
into a fiery cyclone, revealing Artemis, Goddess of the Cataclysm.

Fleeting images of a great cave break through the Veil, and the cowled figure of the Logos is
illuminated within. Beside Him stands Aeyr, God of Magic.

Together with calm determination they toil over the Fire Behind the Flame, binding Creation together
even as it breaks apart.

The vision of the Fire Behind the Flame wavers and fades, replaced once more by the sprawling land
of Nishnatoba, where Neraeos, God of the Sea, now coalesces from a fine mist, stern of face and
resolved in purpose. With equal aplomb the luminous Goddess of the Moon, Ourania, appears in a swirl
of celestial light.


A plume of thick black smoke billows upon ruined Nishnatoba, churning with eldritch fire as it parts
to reveal Babel, God of Oblivion, as He moves into place. Even as the smoke disperses, cold white
flame rise up, burning brightly and leaving in their wake the pale form of Valnurana.


Golden light streams over the ancient battlefield as the bloodsworn Gods Aurora and Deucalion
manifest in measured unison, Their gaze directed singly upon the Worldreaver.


A thrill of wicked anticipation strikes deep as Pandora, Goddess of Mischief appears, Her spirited
laughter followed by the rumbling chuckle of Prospero, God of Wealth as He steps upon Nishnatoba.


Poignant notes of an ancient harmonic reverberate gently, augmented by the bold ring of a forging
hammer as Scarlatti, the Great Bard, and Phaestus, the Smith, appear among the gathering Gods.

Sudden chills wash over the planes and two shadowy forms appear upon the field of battle: Twilight,
God of Darkness, and Thoth, Lord of the Dead. Nodding solemnly to each other, they move apart and
take up their own positions.

Daemonic howls rise from the Inferno as Sartan, the Malevolent takes His place among the Gods. His
appearance draws wary glances from His brethren, but all remain in place, allowing Him to join the
unified force.

Caustic laughter utters from Bal'met as the Gods form a ring around Him. Throwing up His arms, the
oily smoke that billows beneath His terrible form churns and rises, twisting into horrifying
reflections of Himself, identical in every way.


With baleful intent the reflections spread out, and Bal'met moves among them, milling about and
roaring with laughter until it is impossible to determine which is real.

Across the battlefields and plains of Achaea, the voice of Aegis, God of War resounds like thunder,
"To battle!"

Fiery arrows are unleashed from the bow of Artemis, while powerful meteors soar at the command of
Ourania. Lightning is hurled by Vastar the Skylord, blasting one of the forms of Bal'met to
nothingness.


Deacon Alynna, the Avatar of Keresis shouts, "Vengeance, Vengeance. Wreck BLOODY Vengeance!"

A powerful paean is taken up by Scarlatti's baritone voice, the notes of His kantele rousing the
martial prowess of the Gods.

A reflection of Bal'met lashes out with an appendage of raging fire, gripping Aegis about the wrist.
With a growl, the God of War hacks off the appendage with His axe.


The lightning-injured shadow of Bal'met hurls itself at Sartan, the Malevolent.

The titanic God-Eater engages with the God of Evil for a short time, and fiery purple tentacles wrap
around Sartan, who howls in fury.


Strange, otherwordly claws emerge from a rift, and Babel, God of Chaos, uses His empowered servants
to rip the shadow-form of Bal'met away from Sartan and into the Void.

Sartan glares at Babel, who glares back at Him. All is not forgiven in the Garden, despite the
common enemy.

Carried forth in the sky upon His chariot, Neraeos of the Wine-Dark Sea raises the ancient Trident
of the Seas toward His foes. The form of Bal'met that was initially hammered by meteors now begins
to liquify, its form turning to a cloudy purple water.

Deucalion slashes into the liquefied form, which shatters into a sea of water that flows across the
battlefield.


The immortal horses of Neraeos' chariot are instantly slain by a sword-like hand from a shadow of
Bal'met. The God of the Sea falls from the disintegrating chariot and plummets to the ground.


The white-robed Oneiros, God of Peace, deflects many of the strikes of Bal'met through His will
alone. The many shadow forms of Bal'met begin to focus on Him.


Pandora, in the distant sky, begins fashioning a gigantic puppet of Bal'met.

One of the forms of Bal'met instantly turns into a solid gold statue. The sudden transformation
reflects the bright light of Aurora to blinding levels. Prospero, sitting plumply upon a palanquin,
laughs in glee as His ploy works.

The great golden statue is toppled by two of the remaining shadows of Bal'met. Pitching over, it
falls to the ground, causing an immense earthquake. Prospero is instantly crushed by the falling
statue, embracing the gold which He loves so dear.

The golden statue twitches somewhat, indicating that the God of Wealth is not quite so dead as
believed.

Uncaring, Sartan steps on the statue and moves onward, grasping the limbs of a shadow of Bal'met and
wrenching it completely off. He wields the arm like a club, bashing to and from with His new weapon.

Flickering across the firmament, again the vision of a dark cave appears, and Sarapis labours over
the Fire Behind the Flame. The God of Magic guards Him with concern in His eyes, looking into the
distance with growing horror.

With a shout, Aeyr is overcome by a throng of shadows, bestial minions sent by Bal'met. Holding them
back as long as He can, He cannot hold out, and with an enormous outpouring of energy He releases
His full essence across the multiverse, slaying the shadows in the blast.

-
Your spirits soar as the voice of Vastar, the Skylord rumbles through the sky, "I cannot find the
true Devourer!"


Six shadows of Bal'met surround the embattled Oneiros, who deflects as many of the attacks as He can.


Thoth grabs one of the shadows of Bal'met by what He presumes to be its neck, and rips out its soul.
The smoke that comprises the body of the shadow dissipates almost instantly.

The moans of thousands of souls echo from the grave as the cold, silken voice of Thoth, God of Death
resounds, "Its soul is alien! Real yet not real!"

An embattled Artemis drops Her bow and plunges a hand into one of the shadow-forms. She withdraws
nothing but smoke; the act does not appear to even slow the creatures down. They close in on Her,
and Artemis' form disappears among a cloud of shadow. They pull Her down, biting and chewing upon
Her.


At last one dark shadow of Bal'met breaks through the powerful barrier of utter Peace that Oneiros
had raised about Himself. With the collapse of Oneiros' power, the five shadows of Bal'met begin
tearing the God apart, His divine entrails spilling, His flesh torn and his visage rent.

A pool of inky blackness appears below one of the shadows of Bal'met, and Twilight, the God of
Darkness, pulls one of the figures into the pool with His mighty power. The aspect struggles as
Valnurana lures the shadow form into a torpor. Finally Ourania slams it with nine powerful meteors,
and the shock drives it the rest of the way into the pool of darkness, which Twilight then seals.

Pandora finishes Her puppet and puts a firecracker in its head. The puppet explodes, as does one of
the shadow-forms of Bal'met.

Executor Zephyros, Squire of Xenomorph yells, "Slay them all save Master Sartan Bal'Met! Do our
bidding inadvertantly so Evil may rule all of sapience."


Deucalion decapitates one of the shadow forms, then impales another.


Zephyros has been slain by the might of Sir Daklore Le'Murzen-Sparrow.

The firmament burns with white-hot fire as the pure, baritone voice of Deucalion calls out, "Where
is the true Bal'met?"


The heavens shiver with foul portent as the rumbling voice of Babel resounds, "Use Your eyes."

Artemis emerges, battered and bloodied, from the haze of Bal'met forms. Her form is barely
recognizable.

Babel unleashes a multi-coloured coruscade of light, revealing a shadow god as nothing more than
smoke.

As the gruesome likenesses fall to the Gods, They draw nearer and nearer to the true form of Bal'met.
 Finally, Bal'met stands alone amidst the ring of encroaching deities.

Across the battlefields and plains of Achaea, the voice of Aegis, God of War resounds like thunder,
"You have managed the one thing that has never happened before, Bal'met. You have at last united all
of the Gods in a single purpose: Your defeat. Sartan cast you into Nishnatoba, intending it to be a
prison. Now it will be your grave."

Furiously the Gods hurl fire, lightning, and myriad magics unknown to mortal apprehension. Lighting
the skies and shaking the planes, They act with one accord to divert Bal'met from His terrible
purpose.


Beautiful and awesome in Her growing power, Aurora stands alone, unmoving and focused. Once more She
wields the Sword of Dunamis in Her hands, and hungry fire courses down the blade's length.


With murmured words Deucalion begins to direct the prayers of the faithful into a shining shield,
standing beside Aurora and protecting Her with His arm extended.


Nodding to Deucalion, Aurora advances, the Sword of Dunamis extended as Her own arm.

Booming with laughter, Bal'met lashes out at the Lightbringer, cracking whips of force that tear at
Her like seething whips of pure pain.


Aurora continues Her assault, augmented by the unwavering attacks of the Gods that surround Bal'met,
and Deucalion cries out in pain as He takes His bloodsworn's wounds upon Himself.


Rich motes of lucent clarity suffuse the skies as the Lightbringer evokes, "Aeon has foreseen your
fall. By Our hands you will be unmade, and His vision will come to pass."


Drawing back the blazing Sword of Dunamis, Aurora lunges forward and buries it in Bal'met, and a
ghastly chorus of a thousand wailing voices tears across the planes.

Unforming and writhing upon the blade, Bal'met claws out at Aurora with devastating brutality, but
She stays firm, holding the hilt steady as the Gods strain, overcoming the diminishing god with the
strength of Their combined powers.

With an ear-splitting cry that shakes the foundations of every plane, causing the seas to swell and
the skies to weep tears, Bal'met is forced to relinquish His grasp on reality.

Held hostage by the Blade of Dunamis, Bal'met perishes in agony, utterly destroyed by the magnified
power of the Pantheon.

(Gods): Sarapis says, "You all deserve much credit, for without your efforts the Gods would not have
had a clear path to Bal'met."

You feel a great weight lift from you as your soul is summoned from your body, to be brought before
the hooded and inscrutable form of Sarapis, the Logos, resplendent in His power.

Though you cannot see His face within the shadows of His grey hood, you need not look upon the
visage of the Creator to know that the words He speaks require no base, thrumming physical material
to create the sounds that form in your head.

"Achaeans. My children. This is the last time I will speak to you."

"The bright sun will dim to cool embers and the stars that wheel in the night sky will disappear
before My task will be done."

"When there was no time, no spacial dimensions, nothing but Myself as Ayar, there was the Fire."

"Created as the first and greatest of My works, it was through the Fire that all else was made
manifest, from time and matter to Gods and Dragons."

"But by doing so, by giving form to My power such that it be something other than unfocused, raw
capability, there was a cost, that I paid willingly - no longer was I all that was, and thus no
longer did I have knowledge of all that was and would be."

"I know what it is to experience the limitations of lesser forms. I experienced all that Proteus did,
 and in the end I absorbed His experiences into Myself."

"Since that time, I have greatly relished watching Creation and all its myriad parts, for a part of
Me has been able to appreciate the incredible struggles, the glorious victories, the ignominious
defeats, the treacherous betrayals, the great love affairs, the eternal rivalries, and the rest of
the ebb and flow of your daily lives."

"And then came this Bal'met, whose existence I did not forsee, and whose threat I did not appreciate
until it was nearly too late."

"It is not that I wished harm on the many that perished, Divine and mortal both, in this devastating
war to end all wars."

"But ever have I been content to let my Creations play out as they will. If a God dies, it is part
of the turbulence of existence. All returns to the Fire from which it was ultimately conceived."

"Destroying Ashaxei set the Fire into a state of less than perfect resonance, but even then, I was
content to watch, for this did not yet threaten the foundations of existence."

"By the time Maya and I realized what Bal'met truly planned, and what His aims had been all along,
we were nearly too late."

"Through Aeon's sacrifice and the courage of the many mortals and Gods who fought to defeat Bal'met,
we have saved all that has been, is, and will ever be."

"But Maya, whose sacrifice you must never forget, for She gave up the Divine to save all, was
correct - only I can repair the immense damage that has been done to the Fire."

"All My will must be bent to this task, for already it is only through My exertion of power beyond
your ken that the Fire still burns."

"It shall take Me nigh unto a very lonely eternity. I must go beyond Creation to where the Fire
itself resides in all of its immense grandeur, and there are none who can join Me."

"It has been an honour surpassing any that I conceived of to have been witness to your stories and
to, occasionally, even take a small part in them."

"I shall miss you all more than you know."

"Goodbye."

A sense of overwhelming loss floods you as Sarapis, the Logos, departs Creation.

Your soul fills your body and once again you find yourself within the corporeal world, the final
words of the Logos ringing in your ears, perhaps never to dim.

A sense of overwhelming loss floods you as Sarapis, the Logos, departs Creation.