Sinclair quickly pulls his Shield of the Seraphim around him deflecting or destroying the thousands of tiny star shapes..
He continues to only see the Crimson Mask as he tries to bring the villain who killed his parents to justice. "Let loose the Mighty Missiles of Melf!" He shouts to reply with his own assault. But his emotions cause them to fizzle.
With the Yowie asleep, the Hypnotist whips his head around to survey the chaos. What he thought was Lantern Hill Cemetary proves to be something more. The Dreamtime. Oh no, he thinks to himself, I didn't clear my thoughts before entering..we've created a Nightmare!. Behind him, a floating chunk of a castle, the Order of Light. The ephemeral walls wisp away, revealing the Crimson Mask and the young mage Sinclair. The two open a portal and appear on graveyard grounds. The Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign take no heed, stuck in an endless loop of chanting.
The skies churn bright blues and purples. Heat lightning sends silver streaks through the night. In the horizon, the edges of this nightmare and the Dreamtime mingle. I must help Sinclair make peace before this gets bigger. Mac wells power from the realm around him, releasing a wave of it's energy through the palms of his hands this time, instead of his eyes.
Sinclair and The Hypnotist's attacks streak through the sky, bracketing Crimson Mask in magical energy, but failing to connect with him.
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Like the wakening of a thing best left dreaming, the Dunwich Horror ominously turns in place as he hovers in the air. All his arms extend like some kind of spider space-station, and a shadow overlaps the crimson enemy. Eight prehensile arms give him their undivided attention as they hide him from sight.
The Crimson Mask laughs maniacally, "Hahahaha, weakling boy, even with your allies you are no match for me, not enough to save your parents, not enough to save yourself..."
He pulls another vial from his cloak, aiming this one not at Sinclair but at the grave dirt around him. Suddenly, Sinclair feels his weight pulling him downward into the wet soil.
Sinclair cries out as he starts to sink into the grave dirt.
"Sinclair! Push past the trauma! This is only a nightmare, a reflection of your deepest fears. You've come a long way, and yet have work to do, but do not allow yourself to sink under the horrors of your past. The Crimson Mask does not hold control over you now, or ever. Fight past it, Mage! Make peace with the past and let it dismantle this nightmare!"
Sinclair suddenly realizes where he is. It has been years since this happened, years since he lost his parents. None of this makes sense. None of this is right.
As he comes to his senses, the dream of the Crimson Mask wavers and dissolves. The cultists cease their ritual and sink into the dirt, and then the dirt itself wavers and erupts into the familiar patterns of The Hypnotist's powers. You are now within the Dreamtime, and for now you are safe.
Sinclair gasps inhaling deeply as the nightmare recedes and struggles out of the grave slowly standing. He trembles in emotional shock. He looks around slowly becoming self-conscious of his personal tragedy playing out in front of everyone. He wanted to be a hero not the teenage victim that he has attempted to put behind him.
The living nightmare ripped open an old wound of the loss of his parents. Despite dimensionally traveling with heroes, he internally regresses to that eight year old who found his dead parents in the library of the Order of Light.
He tries to get himself together. He holds his hand up to the doctor and gives him a thumbs up, despite not feeling at all ready to go.
"You alright?" Grace asks Sinclair. She then looks around. "Everyone all right? Roll call!"
Seven moves "down" toward those who were on (or in) the ground. Her eyes blaze yellow and she seems to be looking at something other than your surroundings.
"That was...strange. I'm glad that we were all able to handle ourselves against our various personal demons. In my case, that was more literal than I expected. Hypnotist, can you get us back to Freedom City from here? Things are not going well there."
[b]"I'm so sorry for, uh, what transpired. If everyone is accounted for, we can now step out of here."[b]
He opens a rift to Freedom City, as Seven asked. While he opens the rift easily, he seems a bit more reserved than usual, possibly ashamed.
Sinclair nods and replies to Gracie, "fine. I'm fine."
But clearly, he's not fine. He still trembles a bit. And gone in his focus on Seven and the situation at hand. He looks like he's in a haze.
You return to Freedom City, but it is not the Freedom City that you left. The familiar city looks like it has collided with the Netherworld you just left. A storm-cloud of orange and violet light churns overhead. The sites seem distorted, stretched, or twisted—sharper than you ever remember seeing them. A low rumble, like distant thunder, drowns out the normal sounds of urban life.
“Oh, you’ve decided to join us, have you?” Una’s voice echoes across the skyline. “You are here before Adrian. I suppose that means he’s... late. Finally here for our duel, child?”
Seven grabs at her throat as though unable to breathe. "She is challenging me. The mantle of the Master Mage is being pulled between the two of us. It is not a pleasant sensation." She spins around as though looking for something out of sight. Then points, "There. She is there. Of course, she has to chose the most outlandish architecture in the city."
She points to Pyramid Plaza. The Pyramid is the tallest skyscraper in the city, actually three separate structures, each a twisting triangular prism. Nestled between them is a park. A monorail passes through it.
Seven continues, "Sinclair, you will take us there when we are ready. I will shield us. The rest of you, prepare for the battle of your lives."
"So.... right." Grace swallows. "This the part where we call our families and say goodbye, then?" She seems to be reaching somehow under her armor. "I hope there's not mud in my phone..."
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"Okay, dat..." he stares at the tripple twisty buildings, "Dat, is pretty cool right dere, I gotta say. I'm jus' sayin'.
So, ah, are we all flying up to the top or are we taking the stairs? 'Cause you know she's gonna be at the top, right?"
Briaereus makes sure his Ring of Aphrodite is still working, but pauses on the Coat of Poseidon until he knows there attack plan.
"I do not fly. Someone once told me I 'jump good' though. The way they said it told me that it was significant."
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Mac takes in the sights. It's not hard to see chaos is coming. He tucks away in an alley, retrieves his phones from his pocket and makes a call to his wife and son. Unsurprisingly neither respond. He'd made it a bad habit to disappear for work without communicating with them. Surely his wife thought he'd run off with another woman. He always said he'd get better at it, and for awhile, he did, but he could never tell the truth. "My love, I'm sorry for the disappearance. This has been a tough wedge in our marriage, and I am ashamed that I've never been able to come out and say it. I know it's stupid of me, but I.... I'm sorry this is best left to a conversation in person. Just know that what you're seeing in Freedom City now... I won't allow it to go on much longer. I'll explain everything once this is over, just the three of us. I couldn't love another as much as I love you and Ozzie, Gillian. Know that to you, I've always been true, but I've not done right by you. I just--- he chokes at the thought of admitting his truth, that he's a costumed hero. The secret nearly claws it's way further down his throat, creating a lump.
"I'll tell you everything in time. I'll see you when this chaos is over. I love you."
"Ozzie, I've not been a good father to you, I will admit that. I've got a lot of explaining to do. Just know that you and your mother have always been at the heart of what I do. 'For a better tomorrow' and allat. M'boy, after this, you'll know everything, the bloodline, the dreamtime-- everything. I'm sorry I've not been present, but I promise everything changes after today. I love you, Oz. I'll see you when this is all over."
Mac stifles back tears, and rejoins the others.
Sinclair eyes narrow in question and hope at Una's opening comments. [i]Before Adrian? Then, he might be alive![/b] The inspiration restores a measure of his confidence and resolve.
He nods to Seven ready to open a Portal of Portheus to take the team to battle Una for the Earth. He takes a deep breath to center himself at the potential consequences if they lose.
The young mage verifies and reinvigorates his Shield of Seraphim waiting for the signal to go.
Grace finds that her calls go to voicemail just as Mac's do. Everyone in the city must be on their phones.
Seven takes a few deep breaths as she surveys the plaza with her clairvoyant magic. "I think she has secured the top of the towers, Dunwich, but she is also vain and thinks highly of herself. Let's not go to her as she wants it. Let's take ourselves into the plaza and see if we can draw her down to us. Not all of us can fly, and it will gain us nothing if Grace and Gylfir are thrown from the top of the towers at the beginning of our engagement. Sinclair, take us to the plaza and let's see if we can provoke Una into coming out of whatever welcome she has prepared for us at the top of the tower."
Seven's inner monologue:Eldritch, damn you for failing now and disappearing on me. You know I'm not ready to be the Master Mage of this dimension. You were twice my age when you won the mantle, and even though you didn't want it, you had a lifetime of experience to draw on. You always warned me that I was more powerful than you, that the blood of centuries of witches ran in my veins. So far, that is getting me nothing. With you gone and the League off in space, all I've got are these misfits of magic. A washed up psychologist, a misogynist Titan, a Knight who is more of a squire, a giant who is as much foe as friend, and a viking whose greatest gift is that he isn't dead.
We are fighting one of your most dangerous foes, who you tricked into defeat. I never could decipher all of your riddles. Thunder says you're a scalpel and I'm a hammer. Let's hope those witches are behind me today. Or everything you ever accomplished is going to be wiped out by a dark lord out of a fantasy novel...
Sinclair encants his spell and you find yourselves in the plaza between the three towers of Pyramid Plaza.
The red gray sky swirls overhead, reflected disorientingly in the mirrored glass of the twisted buildings.
and a viking whose greatest gift is that he isn't dead.
"Una! Come out and face us! You're supposed to be some great witch but you seem just as cowardly and useless as all the rest I've met!"
"Hah, The Deadman is truly looking for a way out. Goad the sheila out of her beehive. Let's all take point, and not stand so ready to receive a fireball!"
Sinclair closes his Portal of Portheus after the titan saunters through.
Remembering his training, he walks a bit of away from the the crowd beyond fireball formation.
He has read about situations like these in both fiction and nonfiction. He tries to memorize the details, in case he survives, and to take his mind off the whole 'end of the world' consequences.
"Win, I hope you get this. I hope... anyway, I'm alright. And we're going to try to fix whatever's happening. Stay safe. Whatever happens stay safe. I plan on seeing you again." She firms her jaw. "That's all I'll say. Now's not the time for ifs. Be good, love. I..."
*boop* She hangs up.
"Mum, dad, I can't get through; you may've heard about something happening in Freedom City. I'm alright. I don't know what's going to happen. I won't tell you not to worry, because there's no point, but don't... don't wallow. Whatever happens, everything will turn out as it should. I love you."
She inhales deeply, then hefts her blade and joins the others. "Right. We're not going to let this all happen without a fight, right? So. Say the word."
And we're all being led by a girl 'bout my age and only half a crumb more of an idea what's happening. But get a hold of yourself Grace. If you give up before you start, then there's no hope. There has to be hope.
She sets her jaw, and any creases of worry in her face are forced away. Her sword emanates a faint light.
Sinclair closes his Portal of Portheus after the titan saunters through.
Remembering his training, he walks a bit of away from the the crowd beyond fireball formation.
He has read about situations like these in both fiction and nonfiction. He tries to memorize the details, in case he survives, and to take his mind off the whole 'end of the world' consequences.
The canyon of glass resonates with Una's voice. Looking up, you see her appear as a green dot 2000 feet in the air. She descends quickly, pulling up about 100 feet above the park. "Fireballs, how quaint. Your ideas of magic are limited to you game of dragons and damsels. Still, the classics are classic for a reason."
The sky sizzles as fire rains down from above, flaming spheres falling all around you. Seven's yellow energy dome appears above you as the fire impacts it.
Gylfir is intensely blasted by the flaming meteors, but remains standing. His wounds sizzle a bit and begin to heal over, but slowly.
"A coward to the end, then?" he shouts back.
Sinclair screams as the fireball turns the air around them into an oven. The natural heat burns through his Shield of Seraphim like paper.
As quickly as the inferno started, it dissipates. He gulps breaths trying to inhale oxygen that was consumed by the blast furnace. The young mage has yet to fell the pain of his second degree burns. So, he has a brief moment to think, is she reading my mind? Did my thoughts about a fireball trigger her spell?
In this spare canyon, he calls out, "By Phaedrus's Fortified Forms" creating a blue-glowing, free-standing shield between Una and himself, so he can take total cover from her effects.
Gracie tries to jump under Seven's shield.
But at the last moment worries there isn't room for everyone and hesitates, resulting in her testing the resilience of her armor instead.
The heat surrounds her, but her armor, mystical as it is, does not heat as metal should.
Ignoring the sensation of singed eyebrows, Gracie glares up defiantly, red from the heat but quite intact. Wordlessly, she points her magical blade at Una and send forth blinding light toward the evil enchantress.
Mac nearly laughs at the predictability as the heat of the fireball sets the tip of his beard aflame. He quickly pats it out under Seven's shield and issues a quick quip. "Nice try Una, but we've got teamwork on our side!" Seeing the young mage and daring knight spring into action, the Doctor zips away on his flight disc and attempts to daze Una from a different angle.
Hypnotist is looking to orchestrate a team attack. He is attempting to hit her with
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a misogynist Titan,
The Misogynist Titan suddenly finds himself running for cover under the proverbial skirts of the powerful mage-ess.
The heat of the explosions find him, however, and threaten to overwhelm even his titanic endurance. Only by pushing through the panic and bedlam, he wraps himself in his amazing arms, and most of the heat fails to find him.
Finding himself still alive and kicking after the armageddon passes, he wanders outside of the shield and looks up.
"Oy! Ya yous! You know what you get if you take away all the magic parlor tricks? Ya, you, now, YOU, you get a scared little girl-Una that wants t' run away and cry.
But I, on the other hand.
Am still a TITAN!"
His arms shoot up and easily make up the distance to the flying evil-doer.
DC 23 attack. Also:
1) Multiattack: If successful, increase the attack’s
resistance check DC by +2 for two degrees of success, and
+5 for three or more. This circumstance bonus does not
count against power level limits.
2) Then Strength or Dodge Resistance check DC 18 to resist auto Grab.
3) If she fails, then Fort save DC 18 or take first level of Grab-based Affliction: 1) Impaired; -2 on checks
A disk of dark matter forms in front of Una, absorbing Gracie's blast of light.
Dunwich Horror's hands connect with Una's shields, but the force of his blow is turned aside by her shields. Still, he manages to catch her in his grasp.
Gylfir staggers from the crouch the fireballs slammed him into, and whirls his axe around his head. Water begins to gather at the head, before launching fiercely in a razor sharp spray at Una!
Eoten stands rooted to the spot and dreamtime and reality shift and ebb. The brute's beady eyes cloud as his mind attempts to process the complexities beyond his base instincts...
As Una's arcane fire rains upon them, he lumbers to the protective canopy of Seven's warding spell.
Emerging with ne'er a singe, the giant chuckles and sinks his hands deep asphalt under his feet, attempting to tear a section free.
With a bellow the hulking brute oten grins, thick hands tearing free the ground!
Seven releases the Magic of Modrossus, trinity of light, law, and order. Triangles of light echo across the plaza from Seven to Una.
Una nearly disappears behind the light of your attacks hitting her magical shield.
"Is that the best you can do, defenders of Earth!" Una sneers,"Barely worthy of notice, but an amusing distraction."
Una reaches one hand toward Dunwich, reaching around one of his arms, and makes a grasping motion of her own. Dark energy wraps around him. "Aegaeon, how long it has been since we tangled."
Round 2
"Dunwich, don't suppose you can pull her down here?"
Grace attempts another blast of light in the meanwhile.
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The ever-surprising titan dodges nimbly out of the way, moving with more grace than any being so solid has any right to.
"Pull her? Nah, she's too strong for that."
A clever grin creeps across his face.
"For now."
A dark energy, the creeping, draining malaise and ennui of Tartarus shudders from Briareus to Una, using his iron grip as a conduit.
Eoten's spade like hands wrench forth tarmac and earth, as he bellows a challenge skyward to Una;
slidorian = slither
clúd = mass of rock, stone
léodrúne = pythoness , sorceress
With a grunt, the brute hefts the mass of stone and sod towards their foe:
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From behind his magical cover, Sinclair surveys the scene. With Seven unable to scratch Una's shields, he wonders how he can. Obviously not directly. So, he considers options.
He thinks about throwing the giant at her, but Sinclair is too slow. The giant has the same idea. So, he decides to try to help it and commands, "By the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak"
Red-glowing ribbons wait behind Una along the trajectory of the giant's projectiles to collect and redirect toward her.
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Una raises her forearm to block the light from Gracie's sword. Distracted, she fails to notice until to late the chunk of earth flying toward her with magically enhanced force. As though the Earth itself is resisting her rule, it slams into her. Most of the force is absorbed by her shields, but the blow is enough to rattle her.
At the same time, her physical resistance is drained away.