Journal 18

[22:43] Saewyn cants his head, vibrant hues narrowing upon Irkalla. "Well, he was meant to tell you to stray further away from our Territory."

Such including Starfall bridge, though the details hadn't mattered. They were here now, and the tension which lingers between them both could only fuel strife.

"Stick to your side of the woods and terrorize Barsburg. We won't take kindly to you roaming the rest, and should you take this lightly..." He hums.

"I'll do good to provide a more convincing means for your remaining horde to listen to my advice."
(Saewyn)
[22:46] Post-meeting his immediate mission is to seek out Saewyn and start on what Rella had asked of him just before. Patrolling.

It was a lucky change of events that brings him both to the very person, or person(s) he was looking for and for him to come across the very people they were keeping eyes and ears out for.

Demon kind were, as always, full of confidence. And to dwell so much more closely to Myllenoris and the jointed Nysean citizens? Well, it said quite a bit. Avlainn merely takes a floating position next to the water wielding swordsman as he speaks to the invading presences.

"Ah, you."

Irkalla. He remembers them.

"Something tells me you aren't here to share a few pieces of information with us, this time. That being the case, it'd be wise for you and your. . following to make a hasty exit."

The last few who tried their hands were not well received.
(Avlainn)
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[22:52] "Ah... I will go. Yes, but not before I am given something in-return." Their words were carried with an eerie calm to them. The winds rustling in the night were only overcome by the sound of footsteps as the woman motioned before the two.

Raising a hand with palm to the sky, each finger moved like snakes to a dance. Coming to eventually curl into a fist, "My kin... I'd like. Morok back. Yes? There need not be any bloodshed if you abide by this single whim. Hm?"

Crimson hues shifted between both Avalainn & saewyn. One a familiar face in battle, the other a familiar face by word-of-mouth and sight in slaying a comrade.

"Though... You should fear my kind far less than you should. Osrona. Mhm... Ironically? I shall offer a piece of information to you. Osrona looks to enslave us, with their technology. If you move too slowly? You may very well find us all in shackles, against you in the fields of war."

Albeit, a casual tone to the seriousness of what could come to be between the dreadwoods and Barsburg. "Now then... Morok. Yes?"
(Irkalla)
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[22:53] A little tut came quickly from their pouted lips as the group would approach. Their large beady eyes observed Saewyn - the killer of Morok. It was enough to twist their core - disgusting.

How could Morok lose to him, someone they have beaten in the past... But alas, that was years ago - and things have vastly changed. People grew and evolved, and quiet frankly the same could be said about the congealment of slime.

Their body slid over blades of grass in an attempt to get a closer look...

"Well, you can hardly call the woodlands yours, can you?"

Their head twirled around - looking from tree to tree. There was no house in sight, not a single tower. To them, this was no-man's-land.

"Tyranny has not told us of such - but I ask a simple question... Why come all this way if only to give a warning?"

"Are we really worth that much of your time..." A small giggle echoed around them, trapped in the cold winds... "If so, I must say - you are quiet the gentlemen for coming all this way..."

Their body moved to join Irkalla by their side. "If you want us to leave kindly - and to avoid your territory, give back what is ours." The ascended Demon had asked for it already.

They probably wouldn't leave without it.

(Marzanna)
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[22:56] The Teraphim glances, curiously..

Toward everyone involved. He had only stayed in an effort to ensure that everyone else would remain safe, and it was what he would continue to do..

When Irkalla demands back the relic that held Morok, he immediately begins to advance..

On Saewyn. Light began to course, and pulsate around his form before he'd finally reach into the air and pull free a diamond from the aether.

"Once more," he spoke. "Allow the Light to aid you."

Renly was not one for direct confrontation.. Even so, he had no issues with being the guiding hand in matters like this. The diamond in his hand shatters and is breathed onto the Swordsman, as it faded into his essence, empowering it and allowing him to become even stronger.
(Renly Ghede)
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[23:04] "Quite demanding, for a race of beasts that spent their free time making my life a living nightmare. Just as I told Tyranny, it was only a matter of time until you, and yours began to give back."

They were a confident bunch, and perhaps that was for good reason. Though to settle within the grip of fear is not within this magi's intent. He'd steel himself time and time again, and face the possibility of death.

To bleed for those he cared for was not but an honor, one that causes the male's mana to surge, the surrounding air growing ever heavy when it grows saturated with the swordsman's affinity.

"Barsburg is a problem we've acknowledged, for what remains of Morok? It will not be touching your hands. Not in your, or my lifetime. Atleast... Not without you taking it from me."
(Saewyn)
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[23:07] Avlainn seems to remain as he is, silent. Because what more is there to add? Between the lot of them, they all know what is to happen. He is no man who is shy to combat, and he knows the feel of the air, as tense and rigid, ripe with demands.

for something they simply do not deserve. Demon kind, kin as they called one another, were a bunch who tarnished themselves to replicate humanity. Scourges who caused much strife in their lives. For Avlainn and Saewyn and all of their cherished people especially.

The darkened blade of soul-steel and arcanium manifests in his palm.
(Avlainn)
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[23:11] After giving Saewyn a piece of himself, as per usual, the Teraphim feels..

Tired. It felt poor for him to pick one over his own High Lord, buit it had clearly been more efficient. Now, though..

He had no reason to battle, lest the Kaor feel the need to step in as well. Instead?

The Teraphim steps back. No actions are taken until his allies need assistance, apparently..
(Renly Ghede)
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[23:12] "Well... If we are simply waiting on. Your lifetime? I see it being nothing, but a simple endeavor then..." Unlacing fingers to brush back the ashen locks, accompanied with a snap of the fingers.

To reveal to the group. The Animus.

A tome which upon arrival sent waves of visceral magics to lash out in subtlety across the area. Descending before the woman with pages opening. A horrific noise to some, but music to the ascendeds ears.

Smiling as both arms slowly rose to the both sides. "There is nothing, that can't be obtained. Without a bit of hardwork.~ So hear me now. As I call upon you."

Closing their eyes briefly, the reemergence of vermillion hues woult ease out its illumination. The sigil of the dark lord projected over the field. An utterance to words broken & shambled. Gibberish, really.

But it could be felt, as the cries of a warrior defeated by the ascended had been freed from the pages. Shown to be shackled. Writhing in pain as much like the crystal in the druids hand?

They turned to ash, filtering into the air before the three. Flourishing with hel'heims infectious nature.

"Come now... Warrior. Realize. That even, demons... Are unique. Are, different. You will not have your way with me. As you did with morok!"

Hissing, the sight of a hulking Nethradin would take precedent. Rushing forward to meet the warrior down the middle.
(Irkalla)
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[23:12] You have hexed Saewyn

[23:15] Eugo was merely watching for now, It seemed both Irkalla and the Mimic were heading straight towards battle. As soon as the Aniums was brought to bare he knew Irkalla wouldn't let alone Morok's remains.

And part of Eugo agreed but figured it would be best to leave it to the Demoness instead. She had been the most broken by Morok's demise and he left it to them to reclaim that treasure.

Eugo stood off to the side hiding within the shadows as he watched the battles that were beginning to break loose.
(Eugo La Ravias)
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[23:15] "Well... That most certainly won't do."

The shimmering crown of Arcanium on their head would pulsate with a certain darkness. Saewyn's greed was answered with the crowns own. It radiated out from them, manifesting a harsh blizzard that swept through countless blades of grass...

A hand rose, before a single pointed finger came to rest on their lip. "We do not take much of what is yours... Do we? Yet here you stand, holding a relic of one of our own... Now-now..."

Their head shook in disapproval. "No-no.. That won't do. Will it?" As Irkalla summoned forth the Nethradin of Helheim, Marzanna's own hand would swoop forward to summon forth their blades.

Four blades of pure magic - glistening and waving with anticipation around them... "Now then - put down your blade, allow the grown ups to fight, or you too will fall to the cruel bitterness of winter..."

"Just like that Barsburgian."

The blades moved and pointed their sharp edges towards Avlainn. "Now then - it is your choice, dear." Was it really a choice?
(Marzanna)
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[23:26] {Won Dangerous RPB against Saewyn}

[23:26] ** Irkalla has inflicted an injury upon Saewyn. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **

[23:38] Both battles were something to keep your eyes on Eugo supporting his Mistress and his Mimic ally with his abilities, Using the power to witness the future and predict the movements of Saewyn and Avlainn giving them directions of how best to avoid their attacks.

Eugo may have been taking the more supportive role however he was none the less participating through secret means. As those who often dwell within the shadows do.

The opportunity to reclaim Morok was far too much to pass up on after all, There was no chance the Creatures of the Dreadwoods could simply let a man who slain their brotherKin and refused to hand back what was left of them go free.

Giving a prediction to Marzanna the Demon would study Avlainn's movments within the future, Echoing directions to Marzanna to take the safest route to avoid his energy blade.

Then a glance towards Irkalla and her battle against the Slayer...His attacks were unpredictable at most, and even though Eugo could read them it would be hard to define a clear path to defend against his attacks, However through Eugo's strategic advice Irkalla was able to overpower the swordsmen through the use of her Nethradin.

Renly wasn't the only one who could support his teammates both having been defeated by the two monster girls his attention would turn to the Ghede to see what they'd do next.
(Eugo La Ravias)
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[23:40] Rushing forward with both animus & nethradin closely behind. The ascended took to engaging against morok's killer head on. While it could've continued to summon an endless array of soldiers. Maybe the sight of just the demon and the nethradin simply proved how difficult the enemy would be?

To know, it would be forced to rely solely on the single entity that did not perish from a single blow. Nor faltered in the face of defeat.

Reaching into the depths of the animus for more power, the wear & tear throughout the entire battle had begun to show. Where metal & magics clashed. There was only chaos, debris. Left in its wake.

Only the trails where the three continued the conflict.

"You're skilled... Very skilled... I can see now."

They mumbled in the brief instance where weakness was exposed. Blood coughed out, but it wasn't red nor black, but ethereal. Like mist. It barely retained itself on the mortal plane once escaping out of the ascended.

"But I am no mere, demon! I am one blessed by the dark lord! One driven by your kinds ambition. Rivaled only by your countless numbers!"

Their voice screeched into the mans mind, projected through telepathy. The moments where death seemed to take hold were somehow scaled over. With voices pouring into the woman's mind, a mixture of the essence's stolen & eugo. Telling them how to best react, dodging. Bobbing, weaving.

It was an endless dance that eventually saw an end once the woman decided to sacrifice their pristine image entirely. Taking on the brute of the mans strike, cleaved into the woman's shoulder, but...

There they realized the mistake. The woman's figure mutated outward. tentacles scaling out, latching onto the blade just long enough for the woman to reveal a familiar sight.

A signal arm. Beyond beautiful in that. It was a horrific mess? Maybe... The ascended had experimented on themselves at some point recently. And it failed?

"HeheheHahahahahaha!"

Cackling loudly, the depths of their gaze softened as the hand pierced through the mans physical form. Grappling at their soul with sharp digits, like knives. Rattling away at the mans inner-being like a toy. Shaking at them until feeling the tension beginning to battle back. A divine barrier keeping them from further damage.

Only a curse to remain.

Now left to the woman's pale arm, humane at least. Reaching out in an attempt to caress the males features. "You've been defeated. Oh warrior so great, but much like humanity tells me? There's always some else who is great."
(Irkalla)
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[23:44] He stands behind..

.. But it as quick as all others once the battles end. Avlainn is fine, but there's a certain sense of worry as the Champion observes the tail-end of the battle between Saewyn and Irkalla.

Not only had he given a piece of his Light to him, there were simply more important things at stake. Once Saewyn falls, the Teraphim immediately rushes to his side. The hilt of Misery's end is gripped tightly as he shuts his eyes, extending a hand out as his light began to wash over the man, instantly moving to cure any damage dealt. An elixir of healing is also handed to him in the meantime, as though he'd prepared for something like this.

.. And he bursts forward regardless, as light teems off of his form completely-- trying to dissuade the demons from nearing closer to his allies.

"No. Not today, Demon." He spoke, his hands upon the hilt of Misery's End around the handle like an iron grip. The fae were not wont to help him in these situations, as the Demons were known as nothing but trouble, but even here, they had to lend their own aid.

"Back off." The Mistseer spoke.
(Renly Ghede)
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[23:50] Again, every ascended demon poses their own issue. Some were steeped in not but power that fueled volatile magic, and others were elusive to the point the shadows twisted in their favor, warranting not but a chase in which the tenacious mage would take to hunting them down.

For every strike that landed, one could certainly learn as to how the magi had bested Morok, and all the same why it'd been best to stray away from the roaring tides that'd slice through flesh, and magic alike.

Yet just as he wears down his opponent, the same could be said for the magi as he attempted to hold out for just a moment longer. Yet the shadows do tear through his defenses, prompting not but a moment in which Saewyn Falters.

Defeated, and mist his lapse of judgement one could visibly see the magi reach for the relic which hangs from his hear. Grip tense in a moment that'd likely warrant he'd rip those gazing eyes from his lobes.

Though to even fall into her caress, is not something that the magi would find inescapable. Her taunting, it is reminiscent of those that towered over him in his youth.

A reminder of his mortality, a reminder that he was by no means all powerful enough to chase a nightmare unless the entirety of his soul is poured forth into repaying Esshar.

His hand trembles, and certainly does he rip the relic from the flesh it rests within. Yet the pain, along with Renly's voice does wake him from his daze.

"Enough!"

If even only for a split second, his resilient nature brims. The tides rush to an unparalleled height, the great wall of water serving as a means to separate Saewyn from his assailant. To retreat had been his only option, and hopefully as the Teraphim rushed ahead... They'd have no choice but to hope he'd come out victorious should he find a battle.
(Saewyn)
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[23:58] As close as the relic was from being obtained, their gaze fell solely to the defeated expression born on the warriors face as they nearly handed off the item.

So close...

Their hand however, smacked away upon the arrival of Renly. An immediate look of disgust overcame the pale woman's face. Pointed ears cut at the tips, but twitched with every twerk of the brow had.

"Y-Y-You... Would truly come to stand in my way? When you could simply have left with your companions..." Biting at their lip, eyes widening with fury. "It is... A moments lesson."

The mumbled, closing their eyes as both hands came to rest over where their core resided, the trembling coming from nearly having obtained their kindred once more.

But by a twisted fate instilled on the island.

It would be truly as the woman spoke. "There is nothing gained. Without a bit of hardwork…" Raising a hand they looked to swing with an immense force to slap the mans face.

Both initiating the conflict whilst acting as an action to blow off steam.
(Irkalla)
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[00:01] The Teraphim's blade interjects on them, and immediately does the light begin to teem off of their form..

Flowing, and feeling.. and breathing. It manifests as something far more powerful than the fae at his side.

A guardian of light, in the shape of an eerily similar Teraphim of ages past-- Rolim Seira, former Grand Champion of Esshar.

"To teach you a lesson," he declared as the blade is raised. Light bends off of it despite the night being present, a fit of his own magic.. "Yes."
(Renly Ghede)
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[00:06] {Lost Dangerous RPB against Renly Ghede}
[00:11] Light clashes against darkness..

The fae versus the whims of the dark lord, as rainbows fight against a suffocating darkness. He had done this fight so many times before, and he knew how it was always meant to end.

Light would triumph. Light would prevail. Even if he'd given a piece of himself to empower others, he refuses to stand down in the face of the night.

"These lands hold no place for the darkness," he declared, as pulsating waves of rainbows shimmer outward from his form, and send forth deafening blasts of light--

He raises Misery's End, and the spirit-blade grows diamonds on it in an instant. Empowered with the light, it presses on in his eternal battle against the forces of Witchkind, and the Dark itself.

"You would do well to learn never to tread on these lands again," he began, as he vanishes into the light itself in the cold of the night, re-appearing beside Irkalla in what was his weakest moment of battle. A claw, like hers of shadow, strikes forward, and sends her flying back before exploding into a dazzling display of Light.

"'Lest you are not so quick to run again."

He had no more energy, in truth, to pursue from their battle. It was best to leave heavy threats rather than reveal weakness. Even so..

He moves toward Avlainn, and Saewyn. Or whomever remained, to ensure that they were safe before he'd make his own departure as he forced Irkalla out of the area.
(Renly Ghede)
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[00:18] Colliding against the brilliance, it was for this moment it felt to have been growing thus far. A promise since its lesser days, to overwhelm the likes of light. To rival them in the matter of space taken.

Yet, try as they may. The titian acted much like the woman's nethradin. Providing the warrior with a sense of relief, during the state of Hel'heim all over. Sigil & curses cast at the man in an attempt to infect their mind with doubt.

But with every promise, light obscured the promises whispered in torment. "Y-You're... A. Fool..." They growled in the midst of combat, glancing over at the direction where sweayn had retreated. "You could've had your way... But now? I will slaughter every single soul I find. UNTIL I AM GIVEN BACK, MOROK!"

Words howling across the landscape as trees bent from the accumulation of darkness unraveling around the ascended. Consuming the sight of vermillion with octaves obsidian like the darkest nights.

A voice, enraged, but hollowed out none the less. Drained away by the constant assaults of holy magic. But anger still remained in its core. Reaching out for the animus, erecting a barrier as the Nethradin clashed against the man and their titan.

Only able to last long enough for the woman to replenish themselves. As the pale visage pruned like a grape. A literal counter to their existence, but nothing that could wipe them out entirely. Staving off death, while having time to recoup.

The claw caught off-guard, had sent the woman flung from the fields. Forcing the nethradin to give chase with haste. In hope of stopping them from pummeling through trees like a cannon.

But their words would remain, so as long as they existed without the likes of morok in their hands.
(Irkalla)