Thegoldenboy2188

Well-known member
[X] I felt I was ready. It was time to begin the war in earnest, and I had a target in mind. Slan was probably the weakest of The Godhand, and she would fall before any of the rest. I had to find a way to reach her in the Abyss.

Let’s dilly-dally anymore. It’s Time For WAR!
 

Brother Nier

New member
[X] However, while I was ready? I could not say the same for Guts. Perhaps I could convince Regill to take care of his training? Whilst I dealt with some other problems in Arlan's Way. I wonder if Irvine had contacted us...

Slan can wait after Guts becomes a Hellknight
 

Guyvercru87

New member
[X] However, while I was ready? I could not say the same for Guts. Perhaps I could convince Regill to take care of his training? Whilst I dealt with some other problems in Arlan's Way. I wonder if Irvine had contacted us...
 
Devourer of the Sun

Gladiator

Well-known member
Chapter 16: Devourer of the Sun

"Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong, between whose endless jar justice resides, should lose their names, and so should justice too. Then everything includes itself in power, power into will, will into appetite; and appetite, an universal wolf, so doubly seconded with will and power, must make perforce an universal prey and at last eat up himself."

- William Shakespeare


"I said it before, didn't I? Have you forgotten already?" I grab for Dragon Slayer, and force it the rest of the way in. The great sword was buried deeply into my chest. "This story will not end in a tragedy! It will be your ascension!"

I do not flinch as I feel my soul leave my body.

"Arlan!" Dragon Slayer couldn't stop it. I wouldn't let it. The eater of souls desperately trying to pull away, but his master would not let him. Guts had been overtaken. The hell hound was in control. "Why aren't you doing anything?"

There was only one way I could save him. I had to confront the Beast of Darkness. I couldn't remove the Brand of Sacrifice before. I had to do it this time. I had to perform another miracle.

I needed to be as close as I could be. I needed to be part of The Black Swordsman.

It was this plane. Slan, The Mistress of Debauchery, ruled over it as an extension of herself. This realm was called The Garden of Gash. Where pain and pleasure became indistinguishable from each other. Where apostles violated all who entered, and corrupted them in every kind of way imaginable. Where people would forget themselves in ecstasy, and revel in the sacrilege.

All taboos were relished, and the most disgusting forms of love were on display. If you could even call it "love" to begin with.

I wouldn't.

The mangy mutt had more power here than it had anywhere else. This close to one of The Godhand? It was practically a demon lord.

Where had everything gone wrong? Perhaps it was my arrogance.

My crusaders did not give in. They fought on even as I met the hell hound on the battlefield. When Guts had been driven into insanity by that sow, and taken over by the parasite. I did not account for it, but I had to deal with it.

Otherwise, this war would end before it could truly begin.

<<X>>
"A way to reach Slan?" The Skull Knight gave me a curious glance. "A behelit could help, and I have a few on hand." However, I could hear a measure of reproach in his tone. "It would be unwise. I have tried it before. You need something that resonates with that member of The Godhand you're trying to contact. In this case I would recommend an effigy of a goddess of fertility."

I had a few ideas already. Nocticula would be perfect. Despite being a demon lord? They had similar domains.

Though Our Lady in Shadow had class. There was a sophistication to her seduction. Slan was just a loose louse who spread her legs for any ravenous fiend, or contemptible rapist. One of them had standards for their paramours. The other engaged in orgies with the whole neighborhood.

"Are you certain about this, Arlan?" The wraith looked at me again. "If you enter her layer of the Abyss? The Sword of Actuation can only bring back a few of your crusaders. The rift it creates simply isn't able to accommodate a whole army." He grips the reigns on his horse. "If you do not win? There will be no coming back."

It would be a death sentence for all of my crusaders. This would be the case even for the angels. That, or they would be corrupted by her apostles.

They knew all of that already though. It was a sacrifice they were willing to make. Just like the angels who sacrificed themselves to become the Wardstones that protected Mendev.

"I believe in my crusaders." I believed in my brothers and sisters. "They will not fail." I believed in my friends.

"..." Gaiseric does not speak for quite some time. "Very well." He turns around to leave, and make his preparations. "Prepare your army, Arlan. I will return in a fortnight."

Two weeks. That's all I had to spare. I immediately think of Guts.

Regill would meet The Black Swordsman.

<<X>>
"Who is the dwarf?" Guts made his a mistake already. He doesn't even have any time to react before a hammer smacks against the back of his head. He clutches the back of his head in pain. It hit him hard enough to draw blood, but not enough to break anything vital. That would have been counterproductive.

There in my throne room? The Black Swordsman nursed the bruise on his head. Glaring at the gnome that hit him. Before snorting as if unimpressed.

"My name is Regill! Paralictor of The Order of the Godclaw!" The gnome frowns in distaste looking at The Black Swordsman. "I am no dwarf. I am a gnome if you must know, and I will be your teacher." He has a vicious grin. "I will be making you into a respectable Hellknight! Just like The Knight Commander!"

"No thanks. I'm good." Guts immediately turns around to leave, but I quickly move to block him. "I already know how to fight. I don't need any help."

"This isn't optional, Guts. There is a lot of potential for growth, and I will not have you waste it." I crack my knuckles. Then I approach him. "Any attempts to leave will be met by yours truly. I promise."

Guts grumbles at that. He hasn't forgotten that out of the sixty-four encounters we had? He had won none of them. That didn't stop him from bringing Dragon Slayer to bare.

I didn't need to do anything though. Regill already disarmed him before I had a chance to. The gnome practically flew through the air, and used his gnome hooked hammer to send the great sword flying out of his hands. It pierced into the ceiling of my throne room.

"That wasn't my idea! No need to take it out on the great sword!" Dragon Slayer complained before quieting down.

"It is as The Knight Commander said. This is not optional." Regill circles around The Black Swordsman. Examining every detail he could see. "I can see it just like he can. There is much more that you could be."

"Yeah, yeah! I hear it from him all of the time!" The Black Swordsman scrunches his face in annoyance. "I don't need to hear it from somebody else too. I don't even know what a Hellknight is supposed to be."

"A Hellknight is discipline personified! He is the sword and the shield! His heart cannot be swayed by emotion! His mission is always clear!" As if to punctuate it? The gnome slams his hammer against the ground, and the earth begins to shake. "He does not break formation! He does not yield! His loyalty to the cause is absolute! He is duty made manifest!"

Guts flinches at that. He wasn't used to seeing this kind of passion in anyone.

"What can they actually do though?" While the gnome continued his oration? Guts reached for Dragon Slayer in the ceiling, and hefted it onto his shoulders.

"What the situation requires of them, but..." Regill begins to focus. "...they are driven by the force of their will. Which becomes somewhat tangible. It manifests in a way that is not dissimilar to magic, and many of us have patron deities. In particular we are hardy, and become one with our armor. In a way just like you have." He gestures towards the Berserker Armor. "It is called Infernal Armor, and through it we become a bulwark. Practically immune to fire and all magic associated with it, extremely resistant to anything arctic, and able to weather the effects of corrosive acid. Our very presence exudes an Aura of Law, which protects both ourselves and our allies, and it is the bane of demons. Whose domain is in chaos. On that note we can also perform a variation of Smite not unlike a paladin, and burn away at all things that hail from the putrid Abyss. We can make use of Detect Chaos to rout any demons in disguise. As well as grant any weapon in our hands an enchantment. Usually axiomatic in nature. However, unholy and flaming burst are also known to be used. The list goes on, and we have access to a myriad of Disciplines. Which grant us a set of magical abilities geared towards hunting demons, or apostles as you call them."

Guts actually looks interested when he hears that.

"Guess I wasn't the only one who declared war against them..." He whispers to himself. "Alright, I will try my best."

"No, you were not." Regill is able to hear it anyway. "I don't want you to try your best. I want you to meet my expectations." He lifts his hammer. "Every time you do not? I will have you lashed."

The Black Swordsman recognized it immediately. "Are all of you like Arlan?"

"It would be more accurate to say I am like Regill." I interject. "He is the one who helped me become a Hellknight after all. He may be one of my subordinates, but he was also my teacher." The most reliable of my companions at that. There is no betrayal or cowardice in a Hellknight. Only loyalty, and obedience. Provided that you stay true to their cause.

They would follow you into the bottomless pit, and not hesitate for a moment to throw away their lives. All for their duty. All for the mission. Practicality always. Sentimentality never.

They were considered to be anti-social by many as a result, and in worst case scenarios they were dismissed as murderously insane zealots. That's not exactly wrong but oversimplifications are a detriment to us all.

"I will begin your re-education today." Regill starts to speak again. He nods towards his perspective apprentice. "This will be an assessment of what you can do, and from this I will determine what is in need of improvement."

Guts grins at that. He knew what they meant. They would have a fight. He takes another stance, and prepares Dragon Slayer.

"Come at me with everything you have, or I will put you down myself!" Regill hefts his hammer.

I make sure to give them some room, and turn around to leave.

"Just don't leave the whole place in shambles! I happen to like it!"

That request of mine would go unheeded.

<<X>>
The days began to pass, and I could feel it. A sense of anticipation. It might even have been excitement. I enjoyed this just like Caelum Vorlesh, my brother, had said.

"A warmonger regardless of where you are." However, the shadow did not say it as a form of derision anymore. He had come to accept it wholly. "At least the cause is a respectable one."

"It always is, brother." I look at the ceiling of my bedroom. Iomedae by my bedside. Bereft of any clothing, and covered in sweat from our foray in the morning. It started in the bathtub. Then continued to the royal bedchambers. There was a pleased expression on her face. I wonder what she was dreaming of.

"A shame she can't fix all our problems." The shadow rises from the ground, and sits at the end of the bed. "I always despised them all."

The gods and goddesses. Their inaction. Their cosmic bureaucracy and red tape. Do away with all of that, and how much could they accomplish?

"It is beyond her. All of the power in the world, and she can't even use it." I shake my head. "That is why I will never become like them. I wouldn't be able to stand it."

I could do it. I could take up the challenge. The Test of the Starstone. I could become a god.

"Pointless. After all, you're already almost a god as is. The difference is that you can act as a mortal. That gives you freedom." The necromancer gives the sleeping goddess a dirty look. "A slave to a cosmic hierarchy that makes no sense. That is what they become by throwing away their mortality."

"I don't think you need to tell her that." I get up from my bed, and begin to dress. "Are you ready to fight another demon lord?" I ask the shadow.

"As ready as I ever will be. The question is whether your crusaders are..."

I pause at that. How many of them will die?

"Too many." The shadow put words to it. The fear that I felt. Not for myself but for those in my care. "Too many will die before this war comes to an end."

"..." In that I moment I understood him. His desire to spurn death, and bring an end to mortality for us all. "As always."

"Don't let Pharasma catch you thinking about something like that. The last time she caught me I ended up at the very bottom of the Abyss being eaten alive by demons." I could feel it almost as if I was him. All of that hatred. The pain.

It was beyond unbearable.

"If the Abyss is ever destroyed..." The shadow looks at the goddess again. "...how will you sate your desire for war?"

It goes unspoken but it was clear. If I did succeed? I would have nothing, and what exactly would it take? In order to turn my attention towards everything else.

"It's not going to happen. Stop wishing for it." I adjust my clothing. "I will die just like any mortal. That will be the end of it." I give him an annoyed glance.

"I wonder about that. Just a little bit." The shadow begins to disappear. "A lot of things can change. Maybe even you can."

Those treasonous whispers in my ear. He really did not want to give up.

"I'm fine just the way I am."

<<X>>​
The day had come.

The Skull Knight had returned. A behelit in hand, and I had already etched the marking into the ground. The symbol of a demon lord that held the same domain as Slan. I just hope Nocticula wouldn't get annoyed by this. I didn't need to fight her.

I had assembled the mortals of the Kushan Empire. My Kushan Empire. I had to remind myself. They stood beside the angels of The Hand, and they were ready to march into the Abyss. They had been equipped for the occasion. Hanarr had kept himself busy. He had forged a bastard sword for Casca. Which I decided to christen as Dawnbreaker. I did make some modifications. In order to make it fit for a paladin. I had granted it the grace of a celestial. A divine aura which hungered to destroy demons and devils alike. The holy blade would become their bane.

However, I decided to keep her from this battle. The young woman hadn't completed her training underneath Iomedae.

What surprised me was that Hanarr had somehow found a way to mass produce the material Frostbite was made out of. Mithril was now available at the forge. Which meant it was also available for my crusaders. After that, I had spared no expense in expanding it. The forge was beneath my palace. Protected by an assortment of wards. In a grand underground cavern surrounded by havoc dragons. Which also served as a place of retreat for the citizens in case Arlan's Way ever fell under siege.

The reinforcements from Elysium made it easy to build quickly. It could fit thousands of people easily, and even my army. Which now including the soldiers of the Kushan Empire? Had numbers that were nearing a hundred thousand.

"This is when we shall truly begin to strike back against The Godhand! They were learn what mistake they made when they played with the lives of mortals!" I rode in on a horse made out of sturdy gravel. A golem that would not fail. "It is on this day that they learn that we are no longer their prey! No, instead we shall be the hunters!" I slam my fist against my chest. As if to punctuate my statement. "It is fear they will know today! It is pain that shall be delivered to them!" I raise my bastard sword towards the roof of the cavern. Frostbite seems to almost glisten in the glow of the luminescent mushrooms underground. "Most importantly of all! They will answer for their crimes! They will know the fury! They will know the bite of justice!"

It was then that my crusaders began to cheer. Somehow even the soldiers that had belonged to the Kushan Empire understood exactly what I said. Which to be perfectly honest was because I may have added a bit of magic to my declaration.

I turn towards the behelit. Which was placed on an altar directly over the sigil. I gathered the magical energies around it, and began to channel them.

Guts stood. Prepared in a way he never was before. The Berserker Armor having become a second skin. Which was obviously the result of mastering Infernal Armor. Even Dragon Slayer felt different. In addition to Grunbeld who now resided inside of the blade? It was wrapped in law. I could feel the power reverberating around them. An aura that was not there before, and which sheltered everyone around The Black Swordsman in axiomatic protection.

I decided to leave the rest of my party, except for Guts of course, in Arlan's Way. Primarily because some of my crusaders had to be left behind to protect the city, and I needed them to lead the citizens to safety in case of an emergency. There were a few complaints but I silenced them.

"Regill had an impact it seems." I address The Black Swordsman. There was confidence before but now I could feel focus. That was very good. He would need that clarity. "That's excellent."

"I lost count of the times he almost burned me alive! I thought I was going to die!" Guts sounded bemused instead of being angry like his words would suggest. There was a note of respect in his tone. "If he was your friend? I would hate to have seen your enemies."

"They also had a habit of becoming my friends. The line blurs sometimes." I smile at him for just a moment. Then I look back at the altar. "Prepare yourselves! The gate is about to open, and once we enter there will be no return until we collect the head of a demon lord!" I point my blade at the rift as it begins to tear at the fabric of reality. "I expect all of you to murder countless scores of these demons! Those blades you have are hungry for their blood! They are a gift from our resident dwarf! Do thank him by relieving these monsters of their lives!"

Glory would await many of them, and death would be the price for others.

None of them would be forgotten.

<<X>>​
Which brings us back to this:

Dragon Slayer having had impaled me.

The battle was in our favor. At least at first. The angels unleashed a Storm of Justice that rained down heavenly fire. Which disintegrated many of their number. The planet we were on, this Garden of Gash, had to be teeming with demons. The Godhand had a limited influence outside of the Abyss. However, inside of it was a different story altogether.

After the initial assault we charged towards the capital. Where Slan was waiting.

That is where things took a turn for the worst. Guts began to act strangely, and I realized too late that through the Brand of Sacrifice? Slan had somehow taken hold of the hell hound.

Which became even worse when I realized that this realm had turned what was once a greater demon into something almost like a demon lord. A few of my soldiers died to him, and even a couple angels.

I didn't have time to mourn for them, and I imagine that Guts would have problems with it himself.

I had died but for someone like myself it wasn't a problem. In fact, I had planned on dying.

If Guts is reading my memoir to you at this moment he will probably say I am lying. Do not listen to him. He is a charlatan. Trust in your flawless Knight Commander, my crusaders.

I had transferred my soul into his body through Dragon Slayer. Using a variation of Death Interrupted. Whilst my body burned to a crisp. When the hell hound figured out how to use the spirit of Grunbeld, and then combined that with those black flames from before? It made short work of my corpse.

"I expected his soul to be a mess but this is something else." As far as I could see there was only a void, and in that void was an inferno of burning hatred. Throughout his life there was only pain. A series of tragedies. That stacked on top of each other, and contributed to the hell hound.

However, there was one memory. Buried deeply within him. The moment of his conception. A birth that came from--

"Death." The shadow is there with me. "He was born of death." He frowns. "I know it well." He looks around the expanse. This primordial nothing that had no end. "A fluke."

"No, it is a miracle." I am quick to correct him. This was something special. "Quite the desire to live." I couldn't hide it. I felt an admiration for The Black Swordsman.

"Only for his life to be fraught with betrayal." The shadow notices another memory. "A lot of it in fact."

"Gambino." I whisper the name. "It's a shame I couldn't flay him alive." I would have enjoyed it. Possibly a bit too much.

"Shisu, Guts. Remember Shisu." I wade through them. His mother. Not by blood but instead by choice. It was completely unconditional. Pure.

In that moment I am reminded of my mother.

That is when I slam into something.

"A gate?" I turn to look at it. It was hard to see in this darkness. "A door?"

"No." Caelum Vorlesh sounded unnerved. "It's much worse than that." He shakes his head. "It was definitely not a miracle."

As I become accustomed to the darkness? I could see it clearly. There were intricate carvings. A wolf that looked like it was about to gorge itself on a star. As well as a language I could not understand. "What tongue is this--"

"Elder Furthark." The shadow backs away from it. I ignore his concern. "It is a language that should be dead."

That is when I see it. That Brand of Sacrifice was hovering in front of it. Probably to serve as a ward. The glyph wasn't there before. It was as if it kept whatever was on the other side locked away. There were chains holding it in place. They were wrapped around the gate.

"Ah, so that's why I couldn't remove it!" I quickly grab hold of them. I pull at them. However, they wouldn't budge. I grumble, and quickly cast Rage. No, still nothing. I frown. Alright, no holding back!

I quickly use Conduit Surge, and cast Transform. As magical energy floods into my being? I could feel my body reverberate with ethereal power.

"Wait, don't!" The shadow just figured it out. However, it was too late.

I break the chains.

<<X>>
The Mistress of Debauchery barely had time to react. It came as a sense of foreboding. Which for someone like her always meant something. The Godhand? They all had a measure of prescience, and could even control probability to an extent. It made it impossible for mortals to act against them. So naturally, the existence of yours truly concerned them.

They could not control my destiny.

"This isn't the Beast of Darkness." Slan scrunches her face in confusion. "What did he do?" What had I unleashed within The Black Swordsman?

That is when the entirety of The Garden of Gash began to crumble. Before a monstrous howl is heard across the globe. The planet cracks as if struck by an asteroid, and in that moment a claw cleaved it in twain.

Those claws did not belong to a dog. It was--

<<X>>
"A wolf."

I barely manage to say the words before before the gate is destroyed. In the maw of the creature I could see the hell hound. It was so massive that even that Beast of Darkness was but a morsel in those jaws. It bites down tearing the hell hound in half, and what remains falls into the darkness.

"Thank you? I guess." The wolf had to be the size of a mountain. "That mangy mutt was giving a friend of mine trouble. Anyway, I have to go now--"

"ᚹᚺᚨᛏ ᛁᛊ ᛁᛟᚢᚱ ᚾᚨᛗᛖ?" I didn't understand that. "ᛞᛁᛞ ᛁᛟᚢ ᚠᚱᛖᛖ ᛗᛖ?" No, I didn't get any of that either.

"He is asking who you are, and if you freed him." The shadow cautiously approaches us from behind. "ᛗᛁ ᛒᚱᛟᚦᛖᚱ ᚠᚱᛖᛖᛞ ᛁᛟᚢ, ᚠᛖᚾᚱᛁᚱ." He gestures towards me.

"When did you learn Elder Furthark?" I frown, but quickly regain my composure.

"When I was doing research on deities of distant realms besides Golarion. Strange though. I thought he would use Younger Furthark. That has more in common with Old Norse." The shadow bows before the deity.

"Wait just a moment." I was beginning to connect the dots. Old Norse. A giant wolf that was locked away. Then something that has to do with the sun. "Fenrir. Why is he even here?"

"Good question, but I imagine it has something to do with how Guts was born. Also, as for your thoughts on the sun? There are several different accounts. Some say he devoured the sun, along with the moon, and others say it was his children who did it instead. I will ask him." The shadow addresses the giant wolf again. "ᚠᛖᚾᚱᛁᚱ! ᛗᛁ ᛒᚱᛟᚦᛖᚱ ᛁᛊ ᚲᚢᚱᛁᛟᚢᛊ. ᛞᛁᛞ ᛁᛟᚢ ᛖᚨᛏ ᚦᛖ ᛊᚢᚾ, ᛟᚱ ᚹᚨᛊ ᛁᛏ ᛁᛟᚢᚱ ᛊᛟᚾ?"

I would have to learn the language myself.

"ᛁ ᚺᚨᚹᛖ ᛟᚾᛚᛁ ᛟᚾᛖ ᚲᚺᛁᛚᛞ, ᚨᚾᛞ ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᚲᚢᚱᛊᛖᛞ ᛏᛟ ᛚᛁᚹᛖ ᚹᛁᚦᛁᚾ ᚺᛁᛗ. ᛁᛏ ᚹᚨᛊ ᛁ ᚹᚺᛟ ᚨᛏᛖ ᚦᛖ ᛊᚢᚾ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛗᛟᛟᚾ!" I had to cover my ears. The booming of his voice nearly ruptured my ear drums.

"He says that he has no children. I guess that part was just a myth." The shadow folds his arms over his chest, but I had the feeling that he was hiding something.

"Oh, really?" That's when a devious idea began to sprout. "Can he do it again?" Which quickly became machiavellian.

The shadow gives me a look that practically screamed: "Are you serious?"

I just smiled back at him, and he immediately realized that it meant: "Yes, I am."

I couldn't wait to see the look on Slan's face.

<<X>>
"My mistress! There is a problem!" A wretched imp crawled towards his demon lord. "The sun! It is--"

"Gone! I know!" Her eye twitches in annoyance. As she began to tear at the tentacles that might as well have been her hair. Arlan Vorlesh! It just had to be him! At least that's what she is thought, and she wasn't entirely wrong.

I did have help though.

That is when the rest of the celestial bodies in her realm began to twinkle before abruptly disappearing. An unnatural darkness enveloping the only planet left. The Garden of Gash would be the last to fall.

I would make sure of it.

Personally.

<<X>>
"Well, if it isn't the most shameless whore in all of the realms!" I carried The Black Swordsman's unconscious body over my shoulder. After that stint he would be out of it for a while. "How are you enjoying Ragnarok today?" I had used Life Giver to grant myself another body to replace the one I lost.

Slan was uncharacteristically frustrated.

"Normally, and I do mean this as a compliment, I would find a person like you irresistible. Forbidden fruit is the most delectable. I might have even made you into one of my consorts. I think you would have enjoyed the orgies."

"No way, you god damn slut! I would have hated it!" The countenance I wore was crooked, and my sneer was genuine. "I already have the best woman in the world, and unlike you she doesn't have every venereal disease in the book!"

"Yes, it wouldn't have worked out." Slan frowns. "A fight it is?" The demon lord rises from her throne.

"A fight."

"You will just die."

I tilt my head. All of the humor disappearing.

"I am The Knight Commander of the Sixth Crusade, formerly The Knight Commander of the Fifth Crusade, and I have already seen to the death of two demon lords. You will be the third, but I promise that I won't remember you." It will just be another notch on my Belt of Discipline.

I gently lay Guts down onto the ground.

"I am sorry that I didn't see that coming." I whisper. The Black Swordsman had the blood of comrades on his hands. It wasn't his fault. It was mine for not taking the Beast of Darkness into account. "Feel free to blame your foolish Knight Commander."

Well, at least the hell hound paid for it. It was gone forever.

A wolf now lived within The Black Swordsman's soul.

I turn towards the demon lord, and the fabric of reality around her began to crack. Before bursting into pieces. This was her realm after all. She controlled every aspect of it, or whatever was left of it. It was a husk of what it once was.

The plane became a writhing pile of naked bodies as far as I could see. Her demons were preoccupied with my army, but I had her all to myself. They tore into each other. Biting, stabbing, violating every new orifice, and devouring each other. Yet, despite that they all shuddered in ecstasy. I glared at them all in disgust. They were people that gave themselves to Slan.

They weren't forced into this. They chose this hell.

Which is why I didn't hesitate.

I make use of Conduit Surge, and empower myself. Then I cast Plague Storm, and a cloud crackling with jade electricity is conjured into being. It grows endlessly in this pocket universe, enveloping the souls given to Slan, and tearing through them. It was an unfamiliar pain that did not bring them pleasure like every other torture. It only made them feel agony. Then as their moans turned into screams? Their spectral bodies disintegrate.

"Those were all mine!" The demon lord looked positively furious.

"Oh, you mean these ones? These souls?" I grab the head of one of the few remaining stragglers, and crush it as effortlessly as I would an egg. "Darn it! I guess my hand slipped!" I give her an innocent look.

I was already prepared when the demon lord lost it, and wildly struck at where I had been only moments prior. I back-flip through the air, and then proceed to land on a platform I had fashioned.

Slan unfurled her wings, and their wingspan left behind a shadow that covered the earth below us. The demon lord rushes towards me. Her unnatural claws extending from her fingertips, and cutting through everything in their way. Almost like the Sword of Actuation? They left behind tears in the fabric of reality. I deftly avoid all of them. I knew I couldn't block them.

I call Frostbite to my side, and grip the handle tightly when it flies into my hand. I channel the power of Polar Midnight, and imbue it into the edge of the blade. It reached absolute zero, and then fell fall below it. Once again breaking many of the laws of physics. The bastard sword meets those claws, and instead of breaking? It endures the assault.

"How?" There was no mortal that existed who could block this attack! No, not even The Skull Knight could do this! "Is it this sword--" The demon lord didn't have the time to be distracted.

It was in that moment that I struck. The bastard sword stopped only for an instant when clashing against an invisible barrier. A form of divine protection. Then it pushed through, and dug into The Mistress of Debauchery.

I had missed her heart, but I had stabbed the blade into one of her shoulders. I quickly pull it out, and with it the limb flew away from her body. I had taken an arm. I had taken her arm.

"..." Slan looks down at the stump. It had frozen completely, and wasn't healing. There was no pain. Only an abstract feeling of shock that made her choke. "A dream. Y-Yes, this is a dream." The demon lord was delirious. "This can't be real."

It had been hundreds of years since anyone had actually hurt her.

"It is no dream, Slan. I have come to make you answer for everything." How many people had she corrupted? How many men and women fell victim to her? How many children poisoned by her touch? Who were violated by her, and made to be like her? Broken beyond any repair? "In the end there is no escaping what you are. It will come to claim you. When you're at your most vulnerable. When you are alone."

"A-Alone?" The word strikes a cord within her. "I am not alone! I have my consorts! I have my lovers! I have my children!" The demon lord shudders. There is terror that grips her black heart. "They all love me! They're all just like me!"

I had cast Frightful Aspect earlier as she was in shock. I became her worst fears. Her insatiable desire for companionship? This sow mistook lust for some kind of love. I felt pity in that moment. What life had she lived that she could not differentiate between the two of them?

"What a miserable wretch you are. A sad lonely girl." Which quickly morphs into disgust again. "Mistress of Debauchery? More like The Mistress of Solitude!" I begin to laugh at her.

"Stop it! Stop laughing at me!" Her fear is buried underneath a rage that was monstrous. "What are you, Arlan? A mortal? You will grow old, and die just like all the rest of them! You will die and be forgotten!" Anything she could use against me she did, but that was her mistake for I had nothing to hide.

"I am!" I say it with pride. "I am just a mortal!" It's who I always will be. "All of my flaws to bare! All of my weaknesses as obvious as can be!" I nod my head. "There is one thing you're wrong about though. I will be remembered." I point my bastard sword at her. "I can't say the same about you!"

The harlot screeches like a banshee, and The Garden of Gash bursts into pieces, the damage Fenrir had done already had destabilized it. In that moment I make use of Heroic Invocation, and my army holds fast. The power of the magic transforming them into something greater even as the planet explodes. I could not say the same for the apostles. They were either disintegrated by the explosion of the planet, or suffocated in the vacuum of outer space.

In the distance I see it. What the demon lord had become in her madness. The seductive beauty had become a mass of writhing tentacles. Thousands of crimson eyes began to open. It could only be measured in light-years, and couldn't even fit inside of the solar system. The Garden of Gash was nothing compared to this.

Whatever reason left her, and all that remained was an abomination.

"Just destroying you like this would be a mercy. It would be no punishment." I should have finished it before it came to this. Oh well, I had to do it anyway.

I clap my hands together, and draw on the ley lines. Not just the ones in this plane, but in all of them surrounding this one. Conduit Surge is ignited. I cast Wail of the Banshee, and the monster's eyes pop out of their sockets. Black ichor fills the primordial void but the creature does not die. It pulls itself back together, and launches countless beams of brilliant crimson light that twist and turn throughout outer space. They chase after me but I cast Walk Through Space, and I phase through them like they are not even there.

The problem was the difference in scale. I decided to fix that.

When I cast Legendary Proportions? I become a titan. A giant flying through the cosmos. I continue to grow until I even begin to rival the abomination in size. I grab one of the tentacles, and pull it towards me. That is when I pierce into it with my claws. My razor sharp nails, a testament to my status as a witch, tearing the beast to shreds. If it could scream? It would have.

"Slan! This is the end!" I crackle with electricity, and in my current state as a colosal titan? The spell that I evoke approaches the realm of the divine. Stormbolts becomes a miniature big bang that causes this universe to burst open like a ripe melon. The second coming of genesis at my fingertips.

The demon lord collapses in my hands. Disappearing into the void.

Just like all the rest would.

[] The shadow had a secret, and I planned on finding it out. It was time to learn Elder Furthark. What was Fenrir's connection to Guts? Who were they to each other? Why was Guts born from death?

[] It was time to celebrate! The world thinks I am some sort of monster, but now with Slan dead? I should have a chance at spreading my own kind of propaganda. The Godhand were weakened by this.
 
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The Son of the Wolf

Gladiator

Well-known member
Chapter 17: The Son of the Wolf

"In another plane? In another time? I wonder if things could have been different. If I could have lived my life a different way. If I did not have to march towards a certain death. If I did not have to say goodbye. In the end this destiny is my own. I have chosen it. I will embrace it. I will die with pride in my heart."

- The Heart of Iomedae


It began with an illusion. When I fell onto my bed after returning from my conquest. A vision of what once was. I had slain another demon lord. Slan, The Queen of Debauchery.

Yet... all I could think of was the past.

The glass jar I was trapped inside of. The unusual liquid inside of it. I could breathe somehow. I was but a babe. An infant looking at that woman. That witch. The Betrayer of Humanity. My mother. My creator. My god.

Her raven hair, her crimson eyes, and her regal features. Only marred by her horns, her wings, and her tail. At this point she wasn't entirely mortal anymore. I looked like her because she had used her blood. It was to be the template for my design. Someone that shared a relation to her firstborn.

I was a vessel. I was to be hollowed out by the shadow, and used to facilitate his reincarnation. It was for that reason I could sense no warmth from my mother. I was just a tool to her. A way to save her child.

That coldness is what I knew before anything else. I wasn't anything to her. If I died then? Areelu Vorlesh would have created another to replace the failure. Instead I lived unlike the rest of her experiments.

I fought, and I won. It was when I tasted victory that I grew to love it. It was the warmth that I lacked. The embrace I never had. The teat that nursed the babe I once was. It would soothe every ache I had. It would be there. When nothing else was!

I thought that would be enough. That I did not need anything else in life. If only I had victory? I would be happy! It was battle that made me understand joy, because through it I could grasp what I desire above else. The spoils of war!

Then I met them. My friends. My crusaders. My children. In the haze of that dream? I began to understand. There was something wrong. I was missing an important part of myself. That my mother never gave me.

Love. It was love, and it hurt. It hurt so much. I wanted to carve my heart out of my chest. I did not want to feel it. It was a constant reminder of what was stolen from me. What I never had because that witch only saw the shadow! She never saw me until it was too late!

The dream became a nightmare. The pain is excruciating. I wake up in my bed covered in sweat, and there is blood everywhere. It escapes from every pore. I was painted red. I vomit, and there is more.

"I thought as much." I quickly cast Heal, and gather the bloody sheets. There was more to my resurrection. The magic behind it had weakened. Just ever so much after I had slain one of their own. There was a connection. "It does not matter." They would all die.

I would have my victory.

<<X>>
"Are you alright, Arlan?" The young witch had come to help. Schierke had not changed since I last met her. The child still had that innocence about her, and Flora had no doubt taught her more. I could feel the magic around her. It had grown considerably. "You look exhausted."

"I'm just tired from the battle in The Garden of Gash." I lie with ease. "It is always a challenge when facing a demon lord." I lean back into my chair. The young girl sat across from me. At the other end of the desk. We were both in the library of the palace. Since the renovations I had made? I had begun to stockpile texts from the Higher Planes. Thanks to some help from my dearest Iomedae.

The shadow had been silent. Which meant I had to look into the problem myself. Elder Furthark. It was not a language I was familiar with.

"How is Guts doing?" He didn't take it well when he discovered that he had murdered several crusaders whilst under the influence of the Beast of Darkness. At least it has been exorcised truly. It would no longer be a problem.

Fenrir though? Well, I didn't know about him. He was a mystery. He could be an asset, or another problem entirely.

"He has been with Elaine." Schierke still called Casca that? I shake my head. "She says he has been training every day. A lot more than usual though. He hasn't been sleeping. I think he has been having nightmares."

Whether it was guilt or the wolf? I couldn't be sure about it myself.

"Now when you say that, Schierke? Do you actually mean you have been sneaking into their bedroom at night, and invading his dreams?" I give her a look of reproach.

"M-Maybe." The young witch fidgets in her seat. "Okay, I have done that." There was a look of embarrassment on her face.

"Don't do it again. That is an invasion of his privacy, and you have no idea how dangerous it is inside of his soul." I didn't know what kind of person the wolf was. It might have been a god, but that didn't mean it would spare a child.

"Sorry." The young witch bows her head. Refusing to meet my gaze.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." I turn towards another book. "Did you find anything?" I open it up, and begin to read.

"Nothing about Elder Furthark." The young girl scrunches her face. "Why can't Farnese help?"

"My apprentice is busy tending to the wounded." There were many of my crusaders who didn't come back from The Garden of Gash in one piece. Quite literally at that. The only thing that could save them was magic. "Her responsibility as a healer comes before anything else."

"I am not so sure about that." The young witch whispers, but I am able to hear her clearly.

"Why is that now?" I ask, before looking through another book.

"N-No reason." Schierke dodges the question. "What did the runes look like again?"

"Why is that now?" I repeat the question. Then I slam the book shut, and give her a look that promised pain.

Did I have to get The Belt of Discipline?

"..." The young girl looked like she was about to cry. "I might have also been sneaking into the dreams of a few other people."

"What exactly did you find?"

"Farnese is trying to revive Serpico's mother."

The young witch says it so quickly that I almost didn't catch it. Necromancy.

That's just positively wonderful. I could hear the shadow now. He was laughing. Oh, he must be enjoying this.

"That magic is too advanced for her." It would be dangerous. "That's not something she should be doing without my supervision. I will reprimand her for it."

"That's it?" The young witch sounds surprised.

"The only thing I truly despise is the undead. There is nothing wrong with True Resurrection. The better question is whether his mother would be okay with it, and whether Farnese will die in the attempt." I rub my temples. "It is very complicated, and requires consent from all parties. If his mother doesn't want to come back? It simply won't work at all." I look down at the aspiring witch. "It is also not a spell that Farnese even knows or has performed before. If she makes a mistake the power of it will reduce her to a smoldering husk."

"Why wouldn't she want to come back?" Schierke looks confused at that. "Anything is better than--"

"The afterlife can be quite pleasant. Pharasma is usually fair in her many verdicts. The only exception being necromancers. She despises them in a way I can't put into words." I could hear the shadow once more. He was complaining about it. "There are realms that are so euphoric that happiness is an assurance. Instead of just being a possibility."

"The Abyss! All just because I tried to free the people from death!" The shadow materializes in a corner of the library. "That death worshiping whore!" He nearly tears his hair out. Well, whatever amounted to hair for a ghost like him. "I hope you're choking on owlbear cocks you fucking blueberry bitch!"

I sigh.

"I am glad you can't hear that." I turn towards the young girl.

"Hear what?" Schierke tilts her head, and gives me a curious look.

"Nevermind."

I was going at this problem in all the wrong ways. I was a witch. I had my magic. Instead of looking through all of these books? I only had to look for one. When I find it?

I smile.

A book on Comprehend Languages. The spell only lasts an hour, but that would be enough.

"This will be perfect."

<<X>>​

"Guts?" I knock on his door. "Are you in there?" I am greeted by silence. I frown, and that's when I force the door open by pushing hard on it. The lock is broken. Oh well, I will fix that later.

He was on his bed, and didn't even bother turn around to face the door. The Black Swordsman was buried in blankets.

I don't hesitate for a moment.

"Get up!" I grab the blankets, and throw them into the air. "This is no time to be laying in bed!"

The young man just grumbles, and covers his head with a pillow.

"I will take care of whatever it is tomorrow!" That's it? I snort, and that is when I force him into a headlock. "Let go!"

"Not until we have a chat with that wolf!" I pull him towards a chair, and force him to sit down. "It's important!"

"Alright, alright!" Guts scratches the back of his head, and gives me a tired look. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to give me permission to trespass on your soul. I could do it without your consent but I would rather not." I think about Schierke once more. I would have to punish her for that somehow. "The Beast of Darkness is gone, but there is something else inside of you. I need to know if we can trust it."

"What is it exactly?" Guts folds his arms over his chest. "Another wraith?"

"A wolf." I answer him quickly. "A god."

"A god?" He gives me an annoyed look. "I really do have the worst luck..."

"Yes, you most certainly do." I nod my head. "Well, what will it be?"

"Do it. It's not like I can do anything about it myself." He leans back into his chair. "Just don't mess with anything else in there."

"Don't worry. I won't, Guts."

<<X>>
The very moment I transfer my own soul into The Black Swordsman? I notice an immediate difference. The void was gone, and it was replaced with a realm I was not familiar with. It had to be something from the memories of his tenant. The place it once called home.

If I were to hazard a guess.

The planet was lush with life. I could see a forest, and there was snow. Correction. There was a lot of snow. It blanketed everything as far as I could see. This place seemed to be stuck in a perpetual blizzard. The frigid wind nearly freezing my spectral body.

"Ragnarök." I whisper to myself. That is what it had to be.

"Maybe not." The shadow decides to speak. "There are some things that are better left alone."

"Is that why you lied to me?"

"..."

The shadow is quiet. He wasn't going to answer my question.

I pushed through the blizzard, but with every step it only got worse. The cold reminded me of Polar Midnight. Only that this effect was a constant across the entire globe. How could anything thrive in absolute zero? I could, but only thanks to my magic. I had cast Ice Body, and I endured the gale.

It only took a few minutes before I found myself near the source. A gargantuan tree that reached all the way to the moon. Yggdrasil no doubt but I had feeling this was just part of it. The rest of it was connected to the other realms. Asgard, Alfheim, Jotunheim, Midgard, Muspelheim, Nidavellir, Niflheim, Svartalfheim, and Vanaheim. All nine had to be accounted for.

This has to be Midgard. Whatever was left of it, or perhaps this was just a recreation from the wolf's memories?

I did not know.

I quickly cast the spell I had learned earlier. Comprehend Languages. It gave me an hour. That was more than enough time.

"Fenrir! I have come for answers!" I shout as loudly as I can. "Who is Guts to one such as yourself? A god?"

I was greeted by silence. I frown at that.

"I will not leave until I know!" I yell into the canopy of the tree. "I think you owe it to me!"

I did set him free.

"I told your brother." That voice was unmistakable. It was the wolf. "What more do you want?"

"He has a habit of keeping some things to himself! I don't believe he told me everything!" The shadow had hidden himself. He did not want to face the wolf.

"I see. Then he is a snake." The wolf snorts in disgust. "Be wary of treacherous siblings. They will be the end of you." The wolf took that time to make an appearance. I had to hold back my surprise. He was not a wolf? Not anymore. He took on a mortal guise. A human being that was a bit gruff. He towered over most people. He had to be at least twice my height to boot. He had a beard. Hair that was unkempt. They were both like charcoal. However, not unlike Guts there was a patch of hair that turned white near his forehead. Enlarged canines. Ears that were like knives. Golden eyes that held a mystery to them. A wolf of a man. Pun intended.

A lot of scars. Too many.

"He is my brother! I can't exactly choose my family!" No matter what you had to live with them. "What did you tell him? That he did not tell me?"

"That I have no children." The wolf looks down at me. "Save for just one."

I blink at that. Then I blink once more.

"That child wouldn't happen to be who you're trapped inside of?" I could feel the beginnings of a migraine. "The Guts I know?"

"That is what he is called?" The wolf smiles at that. It is a wolfish grin. "Guts. It is a horrible name." He looks happy regardless. "Thank you."

"..." I rub my temples again. Oh yeah, there is that migraine. "Is it safe to assume you will aid my friend?"

"No." The wolf is abrupt. "I will only safeguard his soul."

"Why not?" I give him an incredulous look. "He is your son--"

"He is a man! He is no boy!" The wolf had a growl unlike any other. "If aid is what he seeks? Then he must come seek it himself! He is a mortal like you are! Whether he accepts the part of myself that flows through his veins? That depends on him..."

I pause at that. Déjà vu. In order to reach the peak of my mortality? Did I not face this same choice? Between earning my own meager power, or being simply given godhood by birthright?

"Fate must have a cruel sense of humor." I murmur to myself. "Alright, I will deliver the message to your legacy." I turn around, and begin to leave.

"Wait." The wolf appears in front of me. "There is something I would give him instead."

"I thought you said you wouldn't help him?" I grumble in abject annoyance. "What is it, Fenrir?"

"I won't. Not unless he comes here himself." The god reaches for something, and it seems to materialize in his hand. "This has to do with his mother."

"A goddess?" I ask him directly.

"No, as mortal as he is." Ah, the taboo it is. A deity falling in love with a mortal. Just like my Iomedae. "It is all I have left of her."

It was a necklace? No. A locket. There was a weight to it. A sort of magic laying dormant. It was no blessing or curse though. Nor any mighty weapon. It was a memory. A last will and testament? I couldn't be sure.

"I will make sure that he receives it." I grab the trinket.

This last memento of the past.

"When you give it to him? Tell him that her name was Brunhilde."

I nod my head. He deserved to know that much.

"Farewell, wolf." I turn to leave again.

"Goodbye, champion." Fenrir whispers. "When death comes to claim you? May the Valkyries grant you passage to Valhalla." The wolf had seen it. It was an inevitability. I could not be dissuaded from my goal. It would be the end.

A death I would choose gladly. For them. For me.

For everyone.

In duty? Sacrifice. In death? Glory.

In love? Peace.

[] I had to deal with the problem involving Farnese. I couldn't let her recklessly dabble in magic she did not understand. All because of a misguided attempt to fix her mistake. What had brought it on? I thought The Everlight had given her purpose and peace. I had to intervene.

[] I should give Guts that locket immediately. I made a promise to his father, and he should know the truth of his parentage. Who his father is. Who his mother was. What it meant to be a child of the wolf. What he could be if he chose to accept that part of himself, or perhaps reject it entirely.
 
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Gladiator

Well-known member
Relevant.

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The Gnawing Maw

Gladiator

Well-known member
Chapter 18: The Gnawing Maw

"Evil is not an absence of good. It is not a choice. Evil is one of two forces in the cosmos, an agency locked in eternal struggle against its antithesis. Only good and evil exist. And not even a hair's width of space separates them."

- V̸̡̜͚͑̀͝e̶̛͚̚͝c̷̯̥̪̅̕̚n̷̬͉̊a̵͔̦̭͊̎́


I could not be satisfied. Not by living life as a martyr, for they are paraded around. Their corpses nailed to crosses, and existing only as tribute to those who slew them. A gold star for their cruelty. When I took up a weapon in Kenabres? It was not to die that day. It was to bring Deskari to his knees. It was positively mad. A mortal facing a demon lord? It would certainly be suicide...

I lived.

Many it would say that was only because of the timely intervention of my mother, and her beloved pawn, but it was more than that. I had struck a blow against fate that day. It was in that moment that I began to fight against the Nahyndrian Crystal that had been embedded into my heart. It was not the power of a dead demon lord that allowed me to scar the Lord of Locusts with that Midnight Bolt. It was my tenacity.

I had to endure. I had to fight. I had to hate. I had to live.

I had to win.

The pain I felt in my incubation chamber... it had to mean something. My struggle had to continue. I had many enemies. They all needed to die. Every single one of them.

Only then could I--

"Arlan Vorlesh." In front of me stood a god. A lord of the undead. Well, at the very least an avatar or some sort of aspect. Oh, Farnese, I should have stopped you. "I knew your brother."

"..." The shadow is silent, but he was watching attentively. His master had found a way into the world. This plane. The midland we both now called home. "It's been a while, Vecna."

"A wraith, when once you were a great lich. It saddens me to see you like this, Caelum."

Vecna wasn't quite what I imagined. He wasn't some sort of skeleton. He looked more like an emancipated cadaver. There was an epidermis wrapped tightly around bone, and even a few muscles beneath it around his skull. His face was distinctly human, and it could even form expressions. A crease where he would grin, and the tensing of something underneath. There could have been a few maggots squirming around, but I couldn't be sure. Then there was the golden embroidery in parts of his body. They were implanted so deeply that they had to be inserted into bone directly. His stomach was gone. I could see directly through his ribcage.

There was no heart, but that was true in life as it was in death for Vecna.

"If you're here for my protege? I will have to kill you." There is no hesitation. This was just an avatar. In my weakened state I could handle that at least. Farnese was unconscious on the floor. The ritual she attempted to perform had failed. Instead it had brought this abomination into this plane of existence. Straight into the library at the heart of the palace.

Vecna scrunches his face in bemusement. "Oh, I have no doubt. That is not why I am here, Arlan." He turns to look at the wraith. "I am here for your brother. I have come bearing a gift."

"A gift?" The shadow gave him a scrutinizing glance. "That's not like you at all." He knew only hardship under his tutelage.

"This is a special occasion." Vecna almost seems to bow. Almost being the keyword here. "A way for you to return as you once were."

A Lich King born again? As if I would ever allow that.

The wraith actually looks interested at that, but that interest dissipates as quickly as the morning dew. "I do not need your help." His ghostly visage twists into a cackling skull. "I have my own plans!"

"I know you do." The Maimed God turns back to look at me. "The problem lies in your overconfidence."

What was that look?

"It would be in your best interest to convince him." Vecna had a look of seriousness about him. "His ambition grows in a way that is dangerous to us all. Himself most of all."

"..." I glare daggers at my sibling. "What are you planning, Caelum?"

"I am not your enemy, Arlan. I never will be." The wraith had no trouble saying it, but there was something else. "I am her enemy."

Pharasma. Of course.

"A god will destroy you." Not even I could defeat her in the realm she presided over. Maybe if I could draw her out? That would be a different story.

"Not if I become one myself." It is conjured at that exact moment. "You do remember what this is?" Of course I did. It was a Nahyndrian Crystal.

"Slan." I figured it out immediately. He had used the remains of that sow to make one. "Give it to me."

"No, you will break it." He knew me. " I need this, Arlan." There something that sounded like desperation in his voice. He wanted his ambition to come into fruition, but that was not all. There was a fire burning inside of him. That threatened to burn everything around him. A taste for vengeance.

"The goddess has wronged you, but that will make you into a monster." I shake my head. "You do know that?" I give him a disappointed look. "I will not raise a hand against my own blood, but I need that crystal in pieces."

"This is exactly what I feared." Vecna gives another look. A dangerous one. "I will not have competition. If you do not stop him?"

The threat was clear. The Undying King would slay any others. He could be the only Lord of Worms.

I stand in front of my brother.

"I will stop him, and I will stop you too."

"Completely insane as per usual. I have watched you struggle for years, Arlan..." Those undead I had slain spoke to him. They all speak to him. The dead god sounded annoyed more than anything else. "I will return, and it will not be in this form. I will grant you rest." He would come to Midland with all of his divinity intact. Not as an avatar or an aspect, but as Vecna truly is.

A god.

"I will be ready." It was no bluff. I will lose no family. "Demon Lord or God, it makes no difference. You're just another enemy." My countenance twists into a visage of unadulterated fury. "Another body to build into the foundation of my dream!"

That actually catches the avatar off-guard. The rage boiling just beneath the surface of my soul was like that of a god.

No, in many ways it was greater.

The avatar is quick to act: it casts a spell. I could already see what it was thanks to my Assiduous Gaze, granted to me as a Hellknight Signifier. Negative Eruption. A dangerous one that would kill all of us. It was like Harm, but had a wider range of influence. I quickly grab Farnese, and leap out of the way, before immediately casting Hellfire Ray. The infernal flames scorching the library, and forcing the avatar out of the palace. Hurling it through several walls, and then out into the courtyard. I quickly erect a Death Ward around Farnese. Amplifying it with Conduit Surge just to make sure it protected her.

Vecna may have been weakened in this form, but he was still the greatest necromancer in the known multiverse. I could not underestimate him.

When I make my way to the courtyard? The avatar doesn't even look winded. An attack like that was nothing. I expected as much. "I will bury you, monster." It was with a wave of my hand that Frostbite flew to my side. "Just like all the rest." The frozen blade freezing all that it touched. The air itself began to crystalize around us. As temperatures dropped to absolute zero.

Vecna, being undead, was not fazed in the slightest by the cold.

I quickly cast the hex Protective Luck, and prepare for whatever comes next. A black sword appears in the avatar's hands, and he enchants it with Vampiric Blade. He hurls himself forward, and I meet the charge. Our blades clash, and all of Arlan's Way feels it, as an earthquake resonates beneath the soles of our shoes.

I could feel the enchantment on that black blade drawing the very life-force from my body, and directly into the avatar. What minor flesh-wounds it did have quickly disappeared. "Now that is just cheating!" I grumble in annoyance.

"So sayeth the fool!" Vecna retorts. "More powerful than Lolth herself, and nothing but a mortal!" The avatar smirks at that. "However, that will not always be the case..." The bastard could sense it. "How long I wonder before death comes to claim thee?"

I had weakened ever so slightly.

"It won't be here!" There is a resounding cracking noise as I slam my forehead into the avatar's skull. "Not by your hand, at least!"

He knew that victory was impossible in this form. The god just wanted to weaken me.

"Go for the gonads, Arlan!" The wraith whispers into my ear. "It's his greatest weakness!"

"He doesn't have any balls, Caelum!" I feel the sudden need to break his nose. Alas, my brother no longer had one.

"He used to, Arlan! He used to!" The specter on my shoulder seems to grimace. "That's all that you need!"

It dawned on me. "That's actually brilliant!" I quickly gather as much negative energy as I could. Any healing spells would only hurt a member of the undead. I needed to heal him. I cast Harm, and amplify it with Conduit Surge.

In the centuries since Vecna had become a lich? He finally knew what it was like to have genitals again. He looked positively confused and then elated... for all of one nanosecond.

I slid towards him, the pommel of my sword turning upright midway, and that it is when I strike. It was almost like hearing a pair of balloons pop. The Undying King, for the first time in many eons, screeching like a shrill maiden.

"Arlan Vorlesh! I will see you Ŧคɭɭ!"

That fury had to be genuine, and there was power when he spoke. I did in fact fall. It was like I had lost all motor function. My nervous system was fried. That is when the hex saved my life.

Probability churning in my favor for once, and not for the last time. My whole body ignites. It was like electricity coursing through my nerves. The dice had been rolled, and I had hit the jackpot.

Not only had I resisted the effect of the magic? I had reversed it. I am a blur as my fist slams into the avatar's face, my body now coursing with Vecna's power. The avatar flips backwards, head over heels, and onto the pavement. A sickening crunch signaling the fact that my blow had broken something even before he landed.

"How does it feel, Vecna? This is the power of a mortal!" I stand over him, and before he can recover? I gather all of the magic I had absorbed from him, and cast the grand hex known as Lay To Rest. His body begins to disintegrate. This was the greatest spell in my repertoire to use against the likes of the undead, and it was bolstered by the avatar's own magic.

"This is not the end, Arlan..." His glare could pierce through the soul of anyone. "I will have what is mine!"

"No." I grin. "I will have your head instead." Before the avatar can say anything else? I slam the sole of my boot down onto his skull, and grind my heel into his face until it is a fine powder. "Goodbye, Vecna! I will use your bones to build my empire!"

There is silence in the courtyard, and I could feel the shadow trying to quietly make his escape. I grab him tightly before he can leave.

"The crystal, brother." He tugs on my hand with ghostly appendages. "I need it now."

"Oh, come on! This is the only chance I will get!" His cries didn't mean anything to me. "It's the only thing that can save you!"

I frown at that. Vecna did not know him anymore. I did. It wasn't just about revenge or bringing about an end to death throughout all the planes that existed. It was part of it, of course. It was not the only reason though.

"That mortality is a curse." The shadow looks scared at that. Not of me but of the appointment I had with death. "I could unravel it. If only I had that power, Arlan. I could save you."

"I do not need saving." I shove my hand into the wraith. I find what I am looking for. The Nahyndrian Crystal. I crush it without any hesitation. "I die a mortal. No exceptions."

"..." The wraith is crestfallen at that. "How I despise that part of you, brother."

"I would not be your brother if I was not like that." I gingerly grab the closest thing that constitutes as the specter's shoulder, and grip it reassuringly. "This is who I am! Do not try to change that!"

Those flaws made me who I am. I could not be Arlan Vorlesh without them.

"Please, just listen to your little brother. This once..."

Farnese had woken, and behind one of the pillars in the courtyard she was listening. The girl had heard everything, and her mouth was covered. As if to stifle a gasp.

Her master was dying.

I was going to die.

<<X>>
"This must be a secret." I tell her. "It stays between us." I attend to her wounds. "That creature whispered into your ear, didn't he?" I had lain her back onto her bed. I sat in front of her. Just to make sure nothing else poisoned her against us.

"..." The young woman looks guilty at that.

"He lies." I murmur. "Monsters like him always do."

"I'm sorry. I just made more problems for you, master." The young woman manages to finally say something. "I always seem to be a burden." There are tears that begin to well up in her eyes. I wipe them away.

"It's okay. I can't expect you to hold your own against a deity." I lean back into my chair. "That's something even I have difficulty with."

"All you have done for us, and we have done so little for you..." The witch in training grips her bedsheets tightly. Almost enough to draw blood from her cursed hands. "There is no way we would have made it this far--"

"I'm afraid that soon you might have to make the journey on your own. I might not always be there. I will try to be, but my time is coming. I can feel it. After Slan? Who knows how much it will take from me. As every one of those false gods are brought down? I may not even make it to the last one."

I was wrong about that at least, but what came after might be worse for me.

"Can we even do it by ourselves?" The young woman looks worried.

"There is no choice to be had. It has to be done. I will prepare you. I will prepare all of you. I will forge you all into champions. Guts especially." I smile down at her. Just imagining it all. He would be as great as I once was. I just had to teach him.

We all had to.

<<X>>​

Guts could feel it. It was that same feeling during The Eclipse. That haunted his dreams every night. A sense of foreboding. He would feel loss once again. He would lose someone dear to him. He would see them die.

There would be nothing he could do, and in that terror, he heard a howl. A wolf he had never known before calling out to him. Perhaps to comfort him. The mark was gone, the rabid beast had been exorcised, and instead he felt an oddly familiar presence.

One he was certain he never actually met before. Then why did it feel like he knew this person? That he should know! Now that left him sleepless. It made him lose himself, but he was quickly brought out of his stupor by the woman sleeping next to him.

Her dark complexion the same as he remembered it. The same scars. That he could trace, and she did not fear his touch anymore. Not even after he had almost raped her. The thought fills him with disgust. What that animal had almost done? When using him as a vessel?

However, he could not deny it, it had been part of him. The curse just made it tangible. That abomination was him, and now it was gone. In that dark place where the worst parts of himself lived? There was something else inside of his heart. A growing power that need only be nurtured. A spark of divinity, or perhaps the brilliance of mortality unfiltered.

A choice would come.

[] Guts must receive the locket, and remember his mother.

[] Guts must meet with his father and learn of his tragedy.
 
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Gladiator

Well-known member
As for that Lolth comment in the chapter, I already did my research on that one, and even her true form is only Level 35 as of 4e. Similarly to Elminster, the most powerful Wizard in D&D's multiverse, who is also only Level 35. Which means Arlan is canonically stronger than lesser deities like her, and five levels is enough to make it one-sided. It's less clear in 5e, which I am also using for the side-plot with Arlan's son in Baldur's Gate as the PC for BG 3. Which is a bit more complicated since in 5e characters can only reach Level 20. Going with alternate timelines for each edition and them intersecting.

3e is crazier because it has no level cap at all and I am not touching that, but even in 3e Elminster is only Level 35. Which is still insanely powerful by mortal standards, and marks him as Lolth's equal. Essentially making him as powerful as a lesser deity.

Wrath of the Righteous is just completely insane with power levels, because well, Pathfinder.

Though currently due to the debuff from destroying Slan he is more like Level 39 right now. Which might get as low as Level 35 or worse depending on the circumstances.
 
Mythic Path

Gladiator

Well-known member
Chapter 19: Mythic Path

"Time is the enemy of identity."

- Eternal Champion


Wherever Guts had lived? The land was in turmoil. There was strife but never any solace. Only conflict. It was difficult just trying to find a way to survive. Just to have a drink that would not poison him. A bit of food that would not leave him in agonizing pain. The life of a mercenary was all that he knew. On the battlefield he could forget everything. At least for a while. The bloodshed was a comfort. The threat of death all but natural. It was where he was raised. Where his innocence was stolen from him.

He knew a mother's love. He never knew what a father could be like. He thought he had one once. In Gambino, but that turned out to be a cruel trick by fate. That betrayal was the first he experienced. It would not be the one that hurt him the most.

That was his brother. The person he thought to call friend. Who he aspired to. Who he admired. Who he wished to become the rival of. If only because it would mean that friendship was true.

It never was. It was just another illusion. He should have known. Guts should have seen how desperate Griffith was to grasp hold of his ambition.

If he had stayed with the Band of the Hawk? If he had not heard Griffith speak those words that day? Perhaps things might have ended differently. If he bent the knee, and deferred to his lord.

That was the problem. His lord. He did not want to be a retainer or some sort of vassal. He wanted a brother. He wanted to be someone's brother. He had that now:

By my side in Arlan's Way.

I was everything he had thought Griffith was, but who had proven that he was not. I was much more handsome than Griffith was as well. The most dashing and greatest, Knight Commander. Yes, yes, I am not known for my humility.

It is true though. My raven locks would best those ivory ones any day, and if I had my way? The Giant Bird would soon be bald. Bird Man? White Falcon? The Falconer? That fag who hurt one of my crusaders? Oh, I would have my way with him.

Tarred and feathered, driven into the ground naked, as bare as the day he was born, and forced to march into an active volcano. Whilst every one of my citizens threw excrement at him. It would be a wonderful day. A day to celebrate.

I would laugh at him. Then enjoy the smell of smouldering roast chicken when he finally fell into the mouth of that volcano. It would be a day of remembrance. A holiday. The Plucking, I will call it.

"Uh, are you alright? You have been cackling for the last five minutes, my liege." One of my soldiers noticed that I was lost in my musings.

"Nothing to worry about. I am just making plans." I wipe the drool from my lips. Now I had a taste for poultry. "In time, you will grow accustomed to the random bouts of laughter."

"O-Okay." The soldier stands at attention. I was in my throne room, and I was waiting. It was about time that Guts made his choice. I would not last forever, and the crusade would fall without The Black Swordsman.

His destiny had come to a point of divergence. Who would he embrace? His mother or his father? It did not matter which. Only that he did make a choice.

"I will be there for him." I nod my head. Whatever choice he makes? My crusader would have his Knight Commander. His beacon of hope. His morning star. "As every drop of blood leaves my body, and my soul crumbles to dust."

His brother.

<<X>>
In the dream The Black Swordsman found himself frozen. The cold was unbearable. It reminded him of Frostbite. This frigid air reduced all things to permafrost. How many times had he clashed against The Knight Commander? He had lost count, and he had won none of the matches. He felt useless. It was that same feeling from before. All those years ago. When he had left the Band of the Hawk. He wanted to live up to Arlan Vorlesh's expectations.

My expectations.

If he could not? How could he ever face the betrayer? How could he avenge his brothers and sisters? How could he get justice for the Band of the Hawk? That feeling of powerlessness invaded everything that he was. It tore away at hope. It devoured any happiness he felt in Casca's warm embrace. It drove him mad.

He could not be complete. Not until he plunged Dragon Slayer into the heart of that bastard! He wanted to take everything from that traitor. His kingdom. His ambition.

His dream.

Guts had finally found his dream. It was besides these crusaders. It was by following The Knight Commander into battle that he found purpose once again. When before he had nothing! Everything that was stolen from him! His childhood! His innocence! The love that he could have had! He would take it all back! By violence if need be!

In fact, he would prefer it that way. Dragon Slayer was hungry, and so was he.

"Guts! I will help you!" The great sword ignites in the blizzard. It acts as a ward against the storm. The flames were a comfort.

"Grunbeld? I see." The Black Swordsman marches forward into the wilderness. Past the many forests. Deeper into the heart of this realm. This place within his heart. He would find it. The source of that presence. The howl in the dark. "Thank you."

In the distance he saw the great tree. It wrapped around this world, and in the darkness above this plane? Where constellations found themselves rewritten into a great tapestry? Guts saw holes leading into other realms. Those were not stars! They were gateways! Doors to other places.

The great tree, and the many branches of it, twisted and turned, in order to wrap themselves around eight other worlds. The howl grew louder. That's when he could see it.

A wolf.

It was waiting for him. It had always been waiting for him.

"I have been expecting you, pup." Somehow the mercenary understood the wolf. It began to shrink. As that happened it also began to change shape. It took on the form of a giant. A man with scars all over his body. Gleaming amber for eyes, but the same messy black hair that Guts had. "Let me gaze upon you, my son. Now with my own eyes."

The giant knelt down, and his eyes met that of his progeny. His firstborn. His only true son. In those eyes the giant saw the mercenary's mother. The love that he had lost.

"What is going on? Who are you?" Guts backed away from the giant's touch. Unused to this kind of... love. "Where are we?"

"This is just a dream, Guts. My memory of home. It is gone now, and the only place it can be found is here." The giant points towards his heart. "I am all that is left." He smirks. It is a wolfish grin. "Well, barring yourself of course."

Guts was uneasy at that. "I don't have a father." He is adamant about it, but the doubt began to creep in. The man did look like him. "Not anymore." He thinks back to Gambino.

The father that he killed.

"That man wasn't your father!" The giant almost seems to know what he is thinking. "He was just another monster, Guts!" His eyes begin to soften. "What happens to all those monsters you meet, pup?"

"I murder the whole fucking lot of them!" Guts growls. "Every single damn one!" The rage is unleashed. It never belonged to that mangy mutt. It was The Black Swordsman. "I want to hear them beg! I want to see them run! I want to hear their screams as I snatch the life from them! I want to chase them to hell! I want to take their corpses, and hang them from every rafter! I want to nail them to every cross! I want to see them burn! I want to see them cry! I want to take everything from them!" Just like they took everything from him. "I want them to be afraid! I want them to fear the day I come for them!"

"That's good." The giant nods his head. "That's right. That's precisely what is owed to their ilk." The wolf gazes into his soul. "I can help you, but the price is steep. It will be your mortality."

Guts pauses at that.

"I won't become like those monsters!" He reaches for Dragon Slayer. "If you're one of them--" The great sword ready to drink the blood of a god.

"No, I'm not." The giant lifts his hands. A gesture of peace. "I am not a demon, but a god." He tries to placate the mercenary. "The blood in your veins? It is mine too. Not just that of a mortal. I can set it aflame."

A god? Guts remembers Iomedae. He would become like her? A deity?

"Not quite, but something like her." The wolf continues to answer questions before they are even asked. "The power would be great. Perhaps enough that vengeance would be within your reach."

"I won't throw away my humanity for that!" Not anymore. Not now that he has Casca again.

"Then would you throw it away for a friend?" The wolf paces around him. "The person you call... Knight Commander."

"What do you know?" Guts is furious again. Dragon Slayer burns hotter than ever. The cold is banished. This wolf would threaten his friend? His brother? "What is going to happen?"

"Arlan Vorlesh is dying." The giant grabs his shoulder. "The man who saved you all? He is pushing himself past every breaking point, treading into realms that no mortal should, and he has already died before. What is left is a corpse just barely holding on. If this continues there will be nothing. Not even a hereafter for him. His soul will disappear."

Guts drops his great sword at that.

"You're lying!" The mercenary knew that he wasn't. He could feel it. The truth was everywhere. In this place where his heart could be at peace. "He is not dying!" There is desperation now. A sense of loss. He remembers it all. How I was beginning to slow. How I wasn't quite as quick as before. I was growing weary. The weight was not something I could bear alone.

Guts remembers that day. It feels like centuries ago now.

"That's no weight any one person can handle. So, when push comes to shove, you can lean on me!"

How had he failed again? He relied on someone else. He left them to this burden alone, and he was nothing more than a nuisance now! What Regill taught him did not make a difference! It just let him barely survive. No, surviving is not enough.

Guts wanted to win!

No more. There would be no other Eclipse. He would not see that Brand of Sacrifice on his friend.

His brother.

"Do it." Whatever hesitation disappears in that moment. What was mortality worth? If it could not save his Knight Commander. "Just do it before I change my mind!"

The wolf nods his head.

"Don't worry. You won't become a monster, Guts." The giant smiles down at him.

"You will become a wolf."

<<X>>​

A wolf. Not blackened by hate as the hound was. No, there was something else now. The color begins to change. The darkness being washed away, and beneath it a glorious ivory was unveiled to the world. The tuft of hair that had been like snow? Now it had spread. There was not an inkling of the ebony mane he once had. His crimson eyes burning with fury, but that hate was his to control now. It belonged to him.

It carried him this far, and now he could truly call it an ally. Instead of it just being another enemy skulking in the dark.

He had nothing to fear. This was all that he was. Mortal, or immortal, it did not matter! Guts was the son of a god. He was the firstborn of Fenrir. The devourer of the sun. He was human down to the very marrow of his bones, but he was something else too.

Something grander than that.

He would accept it all. If it meant he could save his friends. He would be both. If only for their sake.

He would walk the path of thorns. He would be feared by many, and worshiped by some. Though all demons would know that this was the day that their judge had been born. He was coming for them all.

None would be spared.

There would be no mercy. No clemency. No forgiveness. Only relentless judgement. In Guts, the people would have a hero. They would have a champion against the monsters.

This was the birth of a myth. Of a White Wolf. A beacon of hope.

Just like I was. Just like I used to be.

Oh, Guts. How I wish I could tell you.

I was proud of you.

[] Mythic Path: White Wolf. The journey takes a turn, and through the eyes of another.

[] Legend Path: The Last Song. The journey continues on. Until the very last light dies.
 
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