Gylfir tries to get Una's attention.
"Coward, weakling. You couldn't even finish me off properly before running away. Come on!" he shouts, then blasts a jet of water at Una.
Sinclair replies, "That's why we need to respect the storm!"
"Hypnotist, send the dragon against Una! I'll add the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak!" Sinclair creates red bands swirling around Una to make her easier to hit for the dragon.
While the others attack, Gracie one more time tries to blind Una with her glowing blade. "This light can beat your darkness!" Uggh, stick to the fighting, Grace
"Black Dragon, let's take a bite out of this broad!"
Una dodges the jet of water from Gylfir, but dodges straight into the waiting crimson bands of Sinclair's spell. Momentarily immobilized, Una cannot avoid the dragon as its jaws clamp down on her.
Eoten lifts a concrete planter holding a 15 foot tree off the ground and hurls it at Una, but it sails over her.
Seven nods, as though she has made a decision. "Hold her here. I think you can manage. I need to do something."
With a circular motion of her hand and a swirl of amber energy, the young mage vanishes.
Una shakes her head, clearly affected by the blows. She focus her gaze on Gracie. "So, Knight, you want to defend you companions. Let us see if your mind is as strong as your armor..."
She places two fingers on her temple, and emerald energy jumps from her mind into Grace.
Round 8, heroes are up.
Grace flinches as the energy strikes her... but focused upon her duty to protect others, she resists the pain with gritted teeth. "I wouldn't've been given this armor if I wasn't worth wearing it!"
Saying the words aloud, in the heat of the moment, perhaps this is the first time this truth has actually struck her. In a flash, the enormity of her responsibility that has weighed upon her is counterbalanced by an understanding she was given Calesvol and its scabbard for a reason, a reason that wasn't do do with the random whim of a faerie, but to do with her. The energy washes off of her, and she fixes a determined grin upon the witch as for the first time in her life she grasps a real sense of purpose.
Still buoyed by Seven's flight, she lifts her blade and charges the evildoer who threatens her world.
Calesvol slams into a layer of magical force surrounding the Empress of the Netherworld.
"Take her!" Gylfir shouts, bringing the water back around to smack her again.
Pleased with the effectiveness of his spell, he tries another, "Get her big man! Be bound the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak!" Sinclair moves the red bands swirling around Una to make her easier to hit by the giant.
The Hypnotist grins with glee as he lets open his mouth. The dragon parrots, but a ball of flame bursts out.
Una easily dodges Sinclair's and the dragon's attacks. You begin to wonder if your first encounter wasn't with another simulacrum. This Una seems much more competent than the two you have fought so far.
The giant charges the sorceress, smacking his hands together
Una laughs at your fumbling attacks. "Fools, you think that you can challenge Una, the Master Mage of 999 realms, Queen of the Netherworld, Mistress of Darkness."
She smashes her hand down in the air, and a massive hand shaped construct of dark energy attempts to slam down on Gracie.
Round 9, heroes are up
Sinclair frowns at the ineffectiveness of the giant. He tries to help the dead firefighter by timing his magic missiles to the next water jet against Una.
"Let loose the Mighty Missiles of Melf" the young mage commands causing three acid green missiles to streak from his hands towards the invading master mage.
Gracie, definitely slower than she is tougher, gets slammed, but she picks herself up, trying not to show that she is shuddering. She points her sword again at Una and tries one more time to blind the witch.
The Black Dragon swoops through the air as flames dissipate. The Hypnotist steps off of his flying platform, landing deftly on the Dragon. "Una! We're comin' for ya!" he yells. The Dragon lets out a roar, as it climbs to attack the sorceress.
As the Dragon draws closer, The Hypnotist opens his ocular aperatures to the realm just beyond the Dreaming. Black ectoplasmic tendrils emerge, as the good doctor unleashes horrors from the nightmares once more. "Ev'ry body's scared of somethin!"
Una raises her arms to cover her eyes, but is blinded by the pure light of Calesvol nevertheless.
Blinded, the dragon clamp's its jaws onto her, crushing her shields in its bite.
A loud snap or cracking sound reverberates through the space between the towers.
Una reels under your assault, but still floats resilient above the battlefield.
There is a sizzle as Seven reappears above the battlefield. Her black cloak billows behind her. As you look up to see her, you see that she holds something in her hands. It is a black orb, as large as a basketball or volleyball. She cradles it in both hands as if it is heavy, weighing her down with arcane power. She stretches her arms, holding out the grey-black orb that glows with a violet and crimson energy. Focusing her will, she wields the power of the Eye of Balor. The Eye is a black sphere a foot in diameter, filled with a starburst of violet-red energy.
That energy blasts forth from the eye, striking dragon, Hypnotist, and Una alike.
[ooc}DC 35 Toughness check for Hypnotist, Dragon, and Una[/ooc]
The energy blasts forth from the eye, striking dragon, Hypnotist, and Una alike as Una is wrapped in Hypnotist's Nightmare coils. Your vision is seared by the overwhelming light and darkness contained within the eye.
The blast rips through Una's mystic shields as though they were fine crystal, her robes burn away, leaving an silhouette of a woman writhing in agony. The dragon glows from the inside like a painted silk lantern, its scales outlined in light before the energy erupts, blasting it into wet chunks.
But the energy is too much for the young sorcerer to control. The energy flowing from the eye surges between Seven's fingers splayed on its surface. It teases at her gloves first before finding a path to her flesh. Red-black fire crawls up her arms as she howls in pain, the familiar yellow glow of her eyes replaced with the dark energy of the Eye.
The Hypnotist, taken completely by surprise, begins to unravel. The signature colors that swirl about him brighten as the blast of energy tears Mac to shreds. The nightmare tendrils retract back into his eyes. Tattered bits of the Hypnotist first float away, and then return, as if being sucked by a black hole. In fact, that is exactly what is happening. The Eyes truly are a portal, it seems. Unable to stop whatever is happening, he let's out a cry-- "Find me! In Dreams!"-- and POOF. The swirling lights of The Hypnotist no longer shine.
Still reeling from Una's attack, Grace cannot move quickly enough to shield Hypnotist again--and if she intervened, Una could be freed before she was defeated. Crying out "No!" helplessly instead, her attention turns to the source of the forces that destroyed enemy and friend alike, she sees the transformation Seven is painfully enduring. Limping toward Seven, Grace calls out to her. "Seven, you've got to close that thing. You're the Master of Earth, you've got to do this. Eldrich had faith in you. You've got this!"
Una's form continues to dissolve, peeling away in burned flakes as the eye obliterates her.
Seven screams as her lips attempt to form words, but then she begins to pull herself together. With an incantation, she forces the energy of the eye back into its vessel. Her eyes flash with the power of her own magic and then they clear completely. She drops from her flight to the ground, the Eye bouncing on the concrete and rolling to a stop.
Seven seems exhausted.
Gylfir straightens as the last of his wounds close up. His eyes glare balefully at Seven and Una alike. In a flash, he leaps toward the disintegrating Una and attempts to strike a final, decisive blow.
...But his heart's just not in it.
Sinclair watches the scene in shock and horror as first the Hypnotist dissolves. Then, Una and her dragons dissolve. And Seven appears scarred for the efforts.
After many heartbeats, the young mage startles realizing the significant pause that his mind takes to digest what he has just personally witnessed. "Professor?!" was the first word to escape his dropped jaw mouth.
Blinking heavily he commands, "Be bound by the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak" causing red streams to reach out and control the Eye of Balor.
Then, he rushes toward Seven but stops himself halfway as his heroic identity training slams down. He starts to approach her slowly respecting allied social etiquette and whispers, "Seven, are you alright? What happened?"
Dismayed, Seven puts her face in her hands. Not crying, but as if she is trying to block out the whole experience.
"I'm sorry. I thought I could control it. I knew I wasn't strong enough to beat her, but she had Bres try to steal the eye. I thought maybe she did that because she knew that it could beat her. The Eye cuts through mortal magic. And even though Una is...was... a skilled mage, she was still mortal, still just a very skilled one of us. But the Eye...so much power. I couldn't control it. It was overwhelming. And now he is gone. I killed him. I killed him."
The world shudders as Una dissolves into gray dust and the strange mutations her presence caused leech away, leaving only a pleasant early evening.
After a few moments’ rest, the air parts and a door between worlds opens. Beyond it, you can see the twisted landscape of the Netherworld. The hulking orange demon from Una’s palace emerges. Then bows before Seven. “I am Shanmai, chief of Una's palace guard. My queen is dead,” he intones with reverence. “By our law, all that was hers is yours now. The worlds she took. The legacies she left. Without the will of a Dark Lord, our Netherworld and hundreds like it she has claimed will crumble into dust as she has.”
The demon opens his massive fist to reveal a silver diadem. “Our world needs a queen.”
"To the victor go the spoils, as now, as ever. Gylfir says, tiredly. He looks at Seven with not so much contempt or anger, but a vague disappointment.
"I had been led to believe the 'heroes' of this place were meant to be different from those of the past. I see now that this is not the path my atonement must take."
"Dyen," Grace mutters, and her armor and sword disappears, leaving a soggy, disheveled tourist in the knight's place. The burn marks across her flesh, however, begin to cover themselves with new, pink flesh.
She goes over to check Hypnotist's remains, then looks at Seven, folded over herself.
"You might have been right. Maybe it was the only way to stop her. f she'd won, we'd all be dead. I know that's cold comfort, but you may have saved countless lives just now. And you... you didn't mean for it to happen. You've got to... to hold on to that."
As the Demon appears, Grace gawps and falls silent. She has little more to do or say as things keep getting both stranger and more terrible.
Sinclair continues to slowly and cautiously close with his friend Seven and would put his hand on her shoulder, around her shoulders, OR hug her if Seven indicated that she would accept it. He understood the distance of secret identity, but she is also human and must be emotionally devastated.
He stood by her when the demon herald of the 999 realms arrived. In response, the crimson bands of Cyttorak appeared to move of their own will slowly positioning the covered Eye of Balor, such that Seven and Sinclair stood between the Eye and the new arrival.
"Shanmai. Seven is the Master Mage of this realm. Can she take the mantle and titles of Una and stay within this realm?" He inquires.
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The orange demon shakes his head, almost gently, "Alas, it is not so, boy-mage. The Netherworld has been shaped by the will of its Mistress. Without the will of a Master Mage, its reality will unravel. A strong Will must rule."
Seven turns to Sinclair and backhands him, her gloves leaving his cheek stinging. Her voice booms across the park. "How dare you suggest such a thing, worm?! I will take my rightful place as Empress of the Netherworld."
And, in parallel, Sinclair finds himself standing beside the two of them, his face, well, the other him's face, frozen in a ripple from the force of the blow. He glows in a sort of transparent haze, and a similarly transparent Seven, well, actually Serena, stands before him.
She says, "I'm sorry, Max, but it seemed best not to show weakness in front of the hulking orange demon who wants me to be his boss. Max, I'm going to have to go with him. Una rules billions of sentients. If he is right, if they are in danger, I have to help them. Maybe I can change their lives. Remember those people in the town that we saved? I could change that. I have to try. This is not how I saw things going."
For a moment, in this astral between time, the young mage is just a young woman. The hands of her astral form, her truest self, reach out to wrap around Max's neck, gently pulling him forward. She offers him her lips, her eyelids closed over entirely normal not at all glowing eyes.
Whether he accepts or not (I expect he does, but I'm leaving room for consent)"You're a wizard, you'll have to figure out how to come see me. I'll need help to stay grounded." She shudders, "By all the gods and spirits, I need more time with you, there is so much you don't know. First: That Silver Tiger guy, he is from a place called Shambala. You have probably heard of it, but what you may not know is that there is a hall there, a special place, it is sort of in the middle of things. And all of the Master Mages of Earth are there. If Adrian is dead, and his spirit isn't trapped somewhere, it will be there, and if not, you can at least talk to Merlin and the others. And you need to move to secure the Nerian Nexus. Take the Eye there. The League doesn't need it. Lock it away in the Nexus. Adrian's magics are beginning to unravel in this dimension, but they will stay stronger longer there. That's as long as I can hold this moment. I'm sorry, I'm going to have to go."
The two of them snap back into time. Seven steps toward the orange demon.
"You are right, Deadman, this was the plan all along. With you, my minions, I have stuck down the Dark mage Una, and now I claim her Realms as mine own. Shanmai, I command you to escort me to my Realm."
The orange demon rises from his knee, and turns to the rift between worlds. "My Queen, I shall go first and announce your arrival."
And he steps through the rift. Seven turns to each of you, "Friends, Heroes. You have saved Earth from a terrible Fate, and, more personally, you have saved me from a battle I could not win on my own. Adrian is gone, and I cannot be the Master Mage of Earth. Until such a time as a Master Mage arises, you must be ELDRITCH."
And she steps through the portal. The portal closes.
The Deadman concludes this adventure with troubled thoughts. He'd though he'd finally found the path to redemption: "heroics", in the new modern style. Slaying evil rather than aiding it.
But it seemed that even in this modern realm, the old notion of a "hero" shone through. Great men and women were only great in their sense of scope and deeds, not morality.
It had been long since Gylfir had contemplated such notions of right and wrong; pillage and plunder had been a way of life because it was a matter of necessity; such moral questions were difficult to hold in your mind when your people were starving to death. And he had found that as an undead he was slow to change, even when he wanted to. Perhaps it was the dream of oblivion, or seeing the life of an ally so casually snuffed out, but he began to doubt himself once again.
What, truly, was the difference between his actions of late and those he had carried out for centuries before? He was fighting and slaying "acceptable targets", to be sure, but was it for any real notion of justice, or just his inability to change his ways in any but the smallest of increments? Could he ever truly find redemption? And did he even want it, at this point? Should his dream be true, Valhalla was ever beyond his reach, as was anything else. This life was the only one he had. Was the only one any of his victims had. Hundreds, even thousands of souls had fallen before the Deadman over the centuries, and deep down perhaps his own beliefs had made it seem like a less horrific act than it truly was.
The seeds of doubt riddled Gylfir, filling him with a confusing jumble of emotions, stronger than he'd felt in nearly a millennium, since he'd died.
By the time the Church's hunter caught up with him, hot on his trail after the very public battle against Una, he could barely muster the desire to fight back, defending himself against those purifying blasts of Light.
Grievously wounded and weaponless, Gylfir looked up at his slayer from the ground, and felt something crystallize within him.
He did not want to die...but curiously, neither could he bring himself to fight back and end another life to preserve his own. Indecision held him, and whatever shone in his eyes that day sowed seeds of doubt within his pursuer as well. With a puzzled expression she backed away slowly, then left.
Lying on the floor, Gylfir waited for his wounds to heal, like they always had. They did not. Crippled, barely able to move, the Deadman felt that perhaps this was for the best. He felt strangely free. If he could not fight, could not kill...then he didn't have to. He could change, must change. A survivor's instinct turned toward positive self-improvement.
Gylfir spent nearly a year making his way back across the world and contemplating his new lot in life. The wounds left by the Light never completely healed, but closed up enough for him to walk properly and carry himself with confidence again.
Once home, he dug up his treasures...and thought some more. What should be done with them?
The answer came slowly, and even more slowly solidified into something workable.
If there was truly no Valhalla, or even no afterlife at all...the Deadman would make one.
The idea seemed insane, but he'd been exposed to the concept of infinite worlds to travel between. Who was to say he could not make one of his own, and shepherd the souls of the deserving to their eternal reward? It would not be easy. It would take money, research, magical artifacts, and most importantly: time.
But who on this Earth or any other had that resource in more abundance than the immortal Deadman?
After his brief foray into the world, Silver Tiger decides that this chaotic and disordered place is not for him. He returns to Tibet and the Shambala Vale. The Vale is everything you would expect from a meditative paradise. An order of monks live here, perfecting themselves and their arts. And here, hidden within a hidden cave within this hidden Vale in a dimensional fold, lie the Crypts of Karu. Within the crypts, Sinclair (and whoever else wants to come along) finds the spirit of Adrian Eldritch. He is a ghostly spectre, not powerfully present, his image wavering. "Sinclair, it is good to see you. You must realize by now that Una was not lying. She defeated me, but I rest knowing that she was stopped by several that the Master Mages had prepared as champions over the years. You may one day claim the mantle of the Master Mage, but I sense that it has not yet come to rest on your shoulders. Don't panic. The wards and preparations that I have laid over the years should help to hold things together until a new Master Mage is found."
Once Eldritch has answered your questions as best he can, he says, "And now, I have not learned the tricks of maintaining myself her as well as my predecessors. I tire. It may be some time before I can return..."
You stand on the sidewalk on Ditko Street, looking up the stairs at the unassuming door. When you set foot on the stairs, you are struck by a sens of vertigo as the stairs warp and twist. The building collapses in on itself, vanishing without affecting any of the structures around it, magically warping the space together. In a moment, the street appears normal, Eldritch's home disappeared.
Seven's kiss dazzles Sinclair for weeks. Immediately, it relieved his aches and pains of the battle with Una and her dragons. Then, as the physical pain naturally healed, the kiss clarified the potential of his feelings. Maybe as the ultimate long distance relationship. He would need to learn the 1001 keys of Azog, quickly.
When the time was right, Sinclair accompanies the Silver Tiger to Shambala Vale. Before and along the way, he examined Una's book that he stole from her sanctum to develop better questions, in case he found Eldritch. He enjoyed the visit to the mystical vale and evaluated key locations as potentials to return by teleport.
The tears rolled down his face when he finally found his mentor and sponsor. He listened intently to memorize each word. His first, open-ended question fell out with a catch in his throat, "What happened with Una? How did she kill you?"
His next question started his list of things to do, "Serena wants to store the Eye of Balor at the Nerian Nexus. Do you agree? With whom did you leave its responsibility?"
Then, he asked his mentor about the list of duties that needed immediate attention. And, what was the easiest way to consult with the former Master Mage.
Getting that Seven's imperiousness is an act, she says nothing as the young Master Mage does her bit and departs. She quietly asks Sinclair if he's alright.
She also looks around to the group. "You are Eldritch? What... seemed like she was saying that to all of us? What did she mean?"
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There is a small shrine and meditation area outside the Crypts of Karu, 5 pillars at the points of a pentagram with a pedestal in the middle. On the pedestal, three feet off the stone floor, is a pointed hairy skull cap and a clawed hand. These are relics of the first Master Mage of Earth's Dimension, who was in fact not even a man, but a Yeti.
Within the Crypts, the Force Ghost of Adrian Eldritch responds to Sinclair: "To be honest, the details of my demise are hazy. I'm not even sure if this spirit you are speaking to is Eldritch, or some sort of psychic echo created by the Crypts. This place is strange, both timeless and stretched. Having never been dead before, I am not sure if this is what it should be like. The problem will require some study. I wonder if it is possible that instead of being Adrian Eldritch, I am actually some sort of recreation based on a scan from the last time I was here in the Crypts. In any case, I can still be of service to you lot.
"You will not be able to store the Eye in the Nexus. In the event of my demise, Sallah will seal the Nexus and all that it holds. It will not be accessible for 7 years. The Freedom League can protect the eye. Or send it away. Away from Earth its power will weaken. Its power is connected to our dimension and that of the Tuatha."
"I will be here, Max. All of the Master Mages are here. Our ability to interfere in the affairs of this dimension are limited, but we can still speak, share our knowledge, our experience."
Getting that Seven's imperiousness is an act, she says nothing as the young Master Mage does her bit and departs. She quietly asks Sinclair if he's alright.
With a goofy, euphoric grin on his face, Sinclair turns and nods toward Gracie. He definitely does not look like he has been struck in the face or abandoned by a friend or even feeling pain from his injuries in the battle.
She also looks around to the group. "You are Eldritch? What... seemed like she was saying that to all of us? What did she mean?"
"I think it means we're on our own. A Master Mage has been protecting Earth's dimension for thousands of years. When one dies, their personal Pact with various gods and other mystical entities which prevents easy interaction with Earth dies with them. The new Master Mage needs to restore and maintain that Pact. Seven hasn't had time to do that. And, won't be able to do that from the Netherworld. So, Earth's dimension will be without a Master Mage again." Sinclair explains.
"The last time this happened was before Uncle Adrian inherited the mantle of the Master Mage before World War Two. Before that, the Earth had been without a Master Mage since Lady Violet Pennyworth died in 1895 thwarting the invasion of Kar’Kradas, the Whisperer in the Shadows Between Worlds."
"During her brief tenure, Lady Pennyworth created an organization called the Order of Light to help her. The Order connected several European and American occult groups and took the responsibility to protect the Earth in the absence of the Master Mage, such as they could."
"The Order of Light has not been needed on the front lines, since Uncle Adrian started protecting the Earth in 1935. My parents were librarians for the Order of Light before they were murdered by the Crimson Mask. Without the mantle of the Master Mage, we're going to need lots of allies."
"I guess Seven's Order of Light is us and called Eldritch." Sinclair turned to look everyone in their eyes to study their commitment to the cause.
Max nods, "Got it. The Nexus is sealed for seven years. Let the Freedom League protect the Eye, hopefully away from Earth."
At this point, Max starts asking Adrian for the current network of magic-users who might be trusted to help protect the Earth and about safe havens around the world, just in case.
"I guess Seven's Order of Light is us and called Eldritch." Sinclair turned to look everyone in their eyes to study their commitment to the cause.
Grace nods in agreement. "Well, if it's up to us to keep everyone safe, then that's it, innit?"
Upon being explained the situation, Grace follows along, donning her armor as she feels safer in it in another strange realm.
"Hang on. What happens in seven years when this Nexus opens?"
”On that day the Seals on the Nexus are thrown open...Imagine a great whale bleeding into the cold sea. Every shark from miles around will come to feed
"Oh, is that all, then?" Well, you knew when you got this thing, you'd be working for life.
During the conversation Grace also looks around, wondering if she can see the other mages.