"Asch, fine then. If things go south we can join in. But I was planning on that anyway, with the card game."
"Hey, anyone need to be healed after that fight? Eben says it's free to use his magical sunbeams," she says, hooking her thumb back at the beach as she traipses up to the battle scene again.
Krathanos booms. "I grow impatient of your tiny meanderings, tiny ones. What will you offer me for my belt? How will you show me you are worthy of this key to the Library of Last Resort?"
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Tanith breaks away from the huddle to address the booming titan.
"We have enough trinkets to trade for your belt", the big man offers. "But the legends told of Krathanos the Conqueror not Krathanos the Trader. We propose a challenge instead - a contest of strength. If we win, you surrender the belt to us. It should be a simple task for the titan that claims to have out-wrestled Kord himself."
Krathanos's eyes sparkle. "Ah, a wager! Now you're in the rhythm. Much more interesting. But do you think you can succeed where Kord failed, little godling?" He rubs his chin. "If you win, I will gladly give you my belt. But should I win, I will take your little belt--" He points to the Champion's Belt. "--his sword--" He points to Kelmarchen. "--and his blasphemous head." He points to Eben. "And then I will lend you my belt."
He rises twenty feet off the ground. "Force my feet to touch the ground, and I will yield. The same goes for you. Neither will rise higher than this point. Do we have a deal?"
He also recognizes that you do not intend to honor the deal and seems unconcerned with your chances. He's concentrating rather intently on something.
Tanith alternates pulling his massive arms across his broad chest stretching his triceps. "You're on Krathanos."
"Uh, Astraden. Do you have one of those not-quite-flying spells?"
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Tanith looks to his companions briefly and then kneels for a prayer.
"Mighty Kord, Lord of Strength and Conquest,
Let this place serve as a holy arena, in it I am your champion,
To face a titan who claims to have bested you in battle,
Yet in my heart, I know your prowess remains unmatched.
Bless my limbs with speed, my heart with valor,
Guide my maneuvers, Mighty Brawler, to never falter,
In this contest, my triumph shall be clear,
With your blessing, o' Kord, the Titan falls here.
Grant me victory, oh God of Battle's call,
For on this day, I wrestle on behalf of us all,
And when I do claim victory by skill and by might,
Kord's name will be praised and his glory shine bright."
"Just to clarify... when you include my 'blasphemous head' as a prize, you are talking about the dragon head, right?" Eben chimes in before any actual combat can begin. "And Cuetz, are you good with Kelmarchen being on the line?"
Krathanos grins. "Perhaps it will depend on which is annoying me more at the time, little bard, but by all means keep prattling."
"Wait, let me do a proper prayer, too. There is a pretty strong deity named Kord/One time he got drunk and in bed with a board/But then when he woke up/His wood was all scuffed/Olidammara helped him get it restored." Astraden takes off her mask and presses it into Tanith's left bicep, leaving a black-and-white tattoo. "Don't worry, it'll wash off."
"Well, since my head may be on the line, best of luck!" says Eben, after quickly muttering a spell under his breath and clapping Tanith on the back to transfer the effects to him. "Don't mind me, I tend to get voal when I'm cheering people on..."
Krathanos rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes, cast your little spells. I'll just pretend I don't see them."
His form shimmers, blurs, and shrinks. The titan reduces in size until he is exactly three inches taller than Farrukh. He throws his head back and gives that manic laugh. "If you think you need them, by all means."
"Oh. That's a bit easier. But by all means, cast some spells on yourself too," Astraden says with a shrug.
"Uhh...yeah, sure, totally cool..."
Carina steps up to Tanith as he rises from his prayer and kisses him on the lips.
"For luck."
Krathanos's eyes glitter. "As a matter of fact, I have been doing just that. Sanette?"
There is a brilliant flash of light from above, a rip in the sky itself. At first, it seems like another meteor--but no, this one is descending much more slowly, and seems to be doing so under its own power. Another angel.
She reaches the party's level within a few seconds. This gray-skinned woman has diaphanous cyan wings, four large eyes—one pair under the other—and a tangle of night-blue hair. As she touches the ground, fiery-orange paints spread across the earth and stone, forming the images of chains.
"Krathanos," she hisses, "you parasite."
"Sana! What a pleasure to have you at court again."
"Four more of my siblings--"
"Ah, were those from your plane? What terrible bad luck." He throws back his head and cackles. "How is Ysgard, by the way?" He holds up a hand as Sanette readies a retort. "No, wait. I'll be seeing it soon enough with my own eyes, I would like to be surprised. Now, normally I'd prefer to summon a protean--so much less self-righteous--but today I seem to be in need of a... moderator."
Her eyes glitter. Translucent eyelids flick sideways over her upper pair.
"Yes, and I don't care to pay a protean at this moment. So here are my terms: Watch over this match for foul play. Should my fine friends here," he sweeps a hand over the group, "play in good faith, and honor the accord, our deal is completed. What luck for you! But if they should violate the deal, you will assist me to the best of your ability in eliminating them."
Sanette gives a short laugh, looking at the party. "Do you truly think I would ever--"
"In exchange, I shall sever my little 'tap' into Ysgard, and the azatas I have, ah, 'parasitized' will be released of their fealty to me. Your siblings will be freed. Is that not wonderful?"
Sanette freezes.
Krathanos smiles. He reaches into his hair and pulls out a strange silvery strand. It glows and glitters, and the party realizes it's a delicate chain of pure light. "Do we have a deal?"
The azata is silent a moment.
"This I will do for you," Sanette says at last. Her weary gaze turns to the party. "Forgive me. I do not... I have no quarrel with..."
She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Ugh, f~~! me. The boss would be so pissed if she knew about this. And, you know, worse, disappointed. Hi, Forzamele, by the way. Been a bit." Her nose wrinkles. "No offense, but you look terrible. Holy s!~!."
Eben blinks. "Wait, you know my bowstring?" he asks incredulously, before being cut off. "No, she knows the sentient lock of the archlillend Willorenth's hair." There's a slight pause, as though the inanimate object attached to a bow were turning away from the silly human it is reprimanding and facing the azata. "Why, hello yourself, Sanette. I apologize for not recognizing you right away myself. I must say, most uinuja who go up a few sarong sizes look terrible, but... you pull it off nicely." The bowstring... sighs. "Well, as you can see, I'm hardly being allowed the opportunity to shine, here. I could have been woven into a gossamer necklace, threaded with cloth of gold into a diaphanous crown, embroided a pattern of commesurate beauty upon the cloak of a high priestess... instead, some centuries back, some wizard who fancied himself an arcane archer said, 'Oh, you know what would make a really neat accessory for my weapon?' Well, we all have our misfortunes to tolerate. Yours sound significantly worse."
"He could have strung you on a viola or something, at least. Willorenth always had such a sweet singing voice."
"Hm, true, though at least in this form I can still invoke an aspect of her glory, although this one barely understands the nuances of using a string to send small shards of heaven through the air. I've been trying to tutor him, but... well, mortals. Eben, show Sanette how far you have to go." Eben looks more than a little peeved at the notion of being put on display like a child that has finally learned how to spell C-A-T, and opens his mouth to retort, but then gets a curious look on his face, then nods and plays a few basic chords.
Astraden fist-bumps Cuetzpalli in the shoulder. "Hey, Kord can cast spells, right? He'd be fine with buffing himself, I'm sure. Unless he was fighting some weirdo who didn't have any magic at all."
"Well, how fortunate for us that we wouldn't dream of violating our deal, then." Eben responds, out loud, to Krathanos after Forzamele and Sanette have their mental conversation. He does keep fingering the strung bow, producing a few more notes of music.
<Uhhh, yeah, sure, I can do that...>
Farrukh starts trying to remember how to do that, it's pretty complicated.
Krathanos has watched this conversation bemusedly. Now he raises the chain above his head. "Then let us make it a deal."
The chain snaps, and something like an audible sigh rises across the beach.
Sanette's shoulders seem to slump. She looks over at the party. "That's all that matters. Good luck with the rest."
Krathanos claps his hands. "Now, enough chitchat!
Astraden nudges Clunk. *clonk*. "You want to bet that Tanith'll win?"
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Cuetzpalli looks to the sky, laying one hand on Kelmarchen's hilt, he earnestly prays "Lord, lend us, your faithful servants, your mighty strength. Use your man Tanith to bring about your will, here and now. Amen."
Muscle by muscle, Tanith stretched meticulously for what was certain to be the greatest battle of his life. Between his friends' magics and Kord's blessings, he was certain he was ready for this challenge.
He watches curiously as the powerful azata arrives and is recruited under the titan's duress. It sounded like he held more of the celestials prisoner. The big man is about to voice his concern when he's interrupted by a passionate kiss from Carina.
Tanith's bearded face splits with a grin ear to ear. "I appreciate it Red. A little extra luck never hurt anyone."
Suddenly the battle begins. Tanith answers Krathanos's challenge with a hearty laugh. "Prepare yourself for the gift of battle titan!"
The big man's massive legs pump as Tanith climbs into the air hiking up on unseen footing. He moves like a blur moving past Krathanos's shoulder and wrapping an arm around his neck.
Bolstered by magic and the might of prophecy behind him, Tanith tackles Krathanos in midair. The demigod and the titan go tumbling above the beach, the air beneath them crackling with chaos magic from the twin air walk spells active--Krathanos's and Olidammara's.
Krathanos's eyes bulge in rage. "You upstart!" he howls, and swings for Tanith's chest. The strike is casual, almost feather-like, but it packs a punch.
Against any other foe, the blow might have swatted them into the dirt. But Tanith carries the divine blood of Kord, the magic of his colleagues, and a conviction in his destiny that any other foe would lack. The casual, feathery blow is careless--a sign that Krathanos is not taking things seriously.
Tanith does not let go.
Krathanos's eyes glitter spiderlike in the twilight.
Krathanos throws back his head, but instead of his booming laugh, a feral roar escapes him--the roar of long-extinct predators, the howl of gods throttled between his fingers. Magic and god's blood or no, Krathanos is a
And he is taking Tanith seriously now.
As Krathanos roars, Tanith feels powerful magic tremble and burst apart in his grasp, like every window of a church shattering at the same time. At first, he thinks his own supportive magics have been dispelled. Then Krathanos begins to grow. Krathanos's titanic form returns in full, and the colossal Shackled Conqueror grins at Tanith with pure, raw glee.
Tanith raises an arm in time to fend off a powerful but clumsy blow when Krathanos retaliates. He's less prepared for the magics containing the titan's true form to come unraveled and he grunts in surprise as Krathanos's body rapidly explodes in size, shifting his grip from his opponent's neck, to his shoulder, and finally down to his wrist.
But a good wrist lock was enough for a trained wrestler and Kord's champion was a divinely talented wrestler. He swings from the titan's arm with all of his strength, extending his opponent's shoulder joint in the wrong direction and uses the leverage from the maneuver to angle their air-bound momentum down towards victory.
Krathanos thrashes and flails, but his titanic strength is no match for the combined might of Kord's blessings, the companion's spellcraft, and Tanith's sheer muscles. Tanith's grip is like iron as he drags Krathanos lower and lower.
Pure adrenaline gives him terrible strength, and Tanith must strain to keep hold, to keep moving down, to keep Krathanos from reversing the grapple entirely. Perhaps if Krathanos had slightly better leverage. Perhaps if Krathanos had taken the battle seriously from the start. Perhaps had he not threatened the lives of luck gods mere hours before.
But Tanith is the better wrestler.
And Krathanos howls in rage as he comes crashing down to earth. He hits the ground like a meteor, sending dust and sand everywhere. A nearby hoodoo topples to the ground, nearly crushing Clunk. An elsewhere-extinct shorebird that had unwisely decided things seemed to have quieted down takes off in panicked flight. The thundering impact echoes in everyone's ears. The magic around Sana flickers. "oh thank the Charm."
Krathanos is silent as he lies there. Slowly, he sits up to regard Tanith, his expression impassive.
"Ha."
There is no amusement in his gaze, no rumble of mania to his laugh. There isn't defeat in those eyes, either. Instead, there is something like...respect. Or shame. Or resentment. Perhaps, to Krathanos, they are one and the same.
He reaches down and unbuckles the Belt of the Shackled Conqueror. "You might be able to end my imprisonment after all," he says, and throws the belt bitterly against the cliffside. The rocks shatter on impact, and the belt falls into the sand. "Well played, Tanith Kordson."
Carina watches, star-struck, as Tanith does what he does best--wrestle massive things to the ground and bury them.
A gleeful grin shows on her face as she turns to Sabir and points to him.
"I'm going to bear that man's children one day."
Sana laughs. Sabir, who has been extremely quiet, avoids Carina's gaze. "Are you now."
"Did we need to know this?" Krekie mutters to Eben.
Eben- who's been doing his best to be a proper bard and shouting out enthusiastic comments that provide a certain tangible circumstantial effect upon one's performance- concludes his one-man cheerleeding section with a whoop of triumph on Tanith's behalf. "Top notch, Tanith, I never doubted you! Eh... Farrukh, nevermind what I said about 'inevitable'. Just pretend I was talking about Clunk..." he adds in an undertone. His face does blanch a little at Carina's own comment, and he nods sagely to Krekie.
Farrukh gives Clunk a puzzled look and leans over to talk to him.
"What's got you so tense?"
Cuetzpalli goes full bro during the competition, cheering and gesticulating next to Eben. When Tanith defeats the titan, Cuetz is reduced to simian hooting and chest thumping for some time. He runs up and embraces Tanith in a brief bear-hug. "Kordson!!!! KORD-SON!!!! Hail, Kordson!"
Clunk's gaze shifts to Farrukh, but only briefly. "However personable they may seem, azatas are as much agents of chaos as demons. It is this unit's duty to minimize their entropy in the Material Plane."
"Oh, 'cause you're such an agent of law, right?" Sana snorts. Her wings shimmer a dusty autumn-orange. "I've heard of you, Clunk. Funny, though, I would've thought they'd be expecting you back in Mechanus by now. A chaos spirit like me might almost assume you're procrastinating on it."
Clunk gives a sound like grinding metal. "There is little you could understand in the workings of the Gears of Mechanus, uinaja."
"Yeah? So you're going back soon, then?" Sana's eyes and wings glimmer with fire. "You excited to skip on back right after this so they can eras--"
Krathanos says coldly. He makes a tearing motion, and there is a crackly sound like bubbles popping.
Sana smiles at the party and gives an ironic--but not unfriendly--salute. Her form explodes in butterflies. They scatter in all directions, and in seconds, it is as if the azata was never here.
Krathanos turns to the party. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he growls. "You have one last trial before this prison is shattered, do you not?"
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Cuetzpalli comes back to reality and composes himself. "Much as I hate to admit it, he's right. Let's get out of here."
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"Right, so... off to find the Doomshroud and silence its 'mournful song'. That creepy forest we flew over on our way down here might be a good place to start looking..."
"Yeah, I heard a lady singing a funeral song there. To the forest!"
Feeling his opponent's body hit the ground and the titanic impact that follows, Tanith's heart nearly beats out of his chest. Flush with glory, he flexes his enormous biceps in victory. If Krathanos had somehow bested Kord in the past he had redeemed his patron's honor with this win.
The moment of glory is just that and passes a few seconds later. He joins his friends in brief celebration and then air-steps down to retrieve the belt. Tanith dusts it off and slings it over his shoulder before air-stepping up again midway Krathanos's form to offer a hand.
"Well played Krathanos. Once this business with the world ending prophecy is wrapped up, what would you say to another round?"