"I don't have to be a Master at Divination to foretell that we will be in front of the Nexus in seven years from now. Too much at stake to let that fall into the control of others." Max replies.
"Uncle Adrian, what can you tell us to give us the advantage to take new ownership of the Nexus protections? Are there any code words for Sallah to recognize?"
During the conversation Grace also looks around, wondering if she can see the other mages.
Each of the mages is represented as a niche with either a statue, a carved symbol, or even a sort of cave painting or petroglyph.
In some of the niches, their are flickers or light, or shadows that move at the edge of vision.
[ooc]How about everyone give me a post about what you are doing. Feel free to beat up some minor demons, roaming skeletons, Great Pumpkins, etc. without rolls.
This Halloween night is unseasonably warm, with temps in the low 70s as a hurricane coming up the coast from the south brings tropical warmth and humidity.
Children flit about the streets on candy quests, adults walk awkwardly in costume shoes, and some of the ghosts glowing along the streets are not costumes.
Max would have loved to have spent a romantic evening with Serena; however, with the veils between dimensions so thin, they expected it to be busy tonight. Until all hell broke loose (hopefully not literally), he had a list of Halloween parties to visit from his various circles of friends from the Claremont Academy, the Hunter Museum, local Harvard alum, and people who knew his identity as Eldritch. He had decided to have a good time tonight for as long as he could, much like a firefighter enjoying downtime.
To outwardly show fun, he was dressed as a character in a classic movie that he had seen several times in college: Westley/Dread Pirate Roberts, complete with plastic sword.
It had been nearly a year since the Church had managed to wrangle Cesarina a spot on Eldritch; finagling her position as a consultant during the Hellqueen Incident hadn't exactly been easy, but considering how close that had come to disaster...it had been easier than some might have thought it would be when the close-knit team first formed.
As she wandered the streets, doing a bit of late night shopping, she couldn't help but be un easy, as she was every Halloween. While no stranger to the celebrations, of course, she couldn't help but wonder every year how many of those masks might hide TRUE monsters, able to come out and play in the open. She had rarely been attacked under such circumstances...but rarely was not "never", and all had been harrowing close calls.
No, the only overt issues tonight were the many people who assumed her Church Exorcist garb was a "costume". Admittedly, this was not her best thought out move, but she couldn't stand to stay cooped up in the house tonight. She felt...something. An itch, a grating against her instincts that told her something would happen soon. Best to enjoy what bit of normalcy there was to be had for the moment, while it was still here.
MeanwhileGracie Whitehall smiled at her reflection in the glass of the door as she reached for the doorbell. The camera in the smart doorbell caught her broad smile, full of teeth, and the more wistful smile of her father.
Gracie was resplendent in her costume. Her dad, Daniel, had downloaded the files and printed it himself, and they had painted it together in their tiny patch of yard behind their Ditko street brownstone. With her short blond hair and glowing sword, Gracie was as close to her namesake as she could be in her 3D printed armor and glowing sword (both a safety feature and an accurate representation).
An attractive older woman, maybe in her 60s, Gracie's neighbor, came to the door, opening it and pouring candy into Gracie's pumpkin bucket. "Oh, how cute, and who are you?"
Gracie stands up straight and holds out her glowing sword. "Good Knight Gracie, Ma'am, her to save you."
Gracie is 7. Her parents moved here just before she was born, looking for more room for their growing family. They bought the place for a steal 7 years ago after something unfortunate happened to the previous owner. Since then, their family had thrived here in the neighborhood. It was strange that his neighbors were perpetually absent, but neighborhood gossip was that it was owned by an older gay couple, quite wealthy, who were abroad and considered the townhouse an investment as much as anything.
Daniel occasionally had a strange sense of the empty house watching him, but he put it off to superstition and reading too many Gothic stories.
But tonight, Gracie bounded back down the stairs to him and he grabbed her small gloved hand. "Ok, Gracie. I think that is it. Time to head home. Mom has chili dogs, and we have a movie to watch..."
Just then, Gracie notices a beautiful woman walking down the street, and beside her a massive man in a sort of Frankenstein costume. The two of them move to the stoop of the empty house and up to the door as though they are trick or treating.
Surprisingly, the door opens at their knock, and the beautiful woman and Frankenstein man walk through the door.
A party on Ditko Street. Not Ozzie's first, second, or third choice but the boys said the spot would be bumpin' tonight. He needed this distraction. If he had it his way, he'd be dragging a keg through Lantern Hill to party with all the spooky witchy girls that he typically crushed on. Instead, it's a rager in a residential. Cops will definitely break it up. Ugh, I bet Stella is at Lantern right now. I bet she'd even be down to hold a seance to reach out to my f...
"'Ey Oz! Get out of your feelings and let's get into this party!"
How does Mitch always know? Oswald thinks to himself.
"Guys, did I really have to be Blanka? Why couldn't Jacob be Blanka, and I could've been Birdie!" Oswald chimes in as he trails behind his friends, pony keg in tow.
"Bro, everyone knows Blanka! Nobody knows Birdie. Besides, I'm a way better Zangief than I am a Blanka. I have Good Rooshian Ak-sent, Ya! Don't sweat it Ozzie, or else your paint'll run."
Jacob's always got a joke lined up. Ugh.
"Jake's got a point, Z. We gotta come through lookin' right. Everyone's gotta recognize us from the jump. Jacob is Zangief, Mitch is Ken, I'm Ryu and you're Blanka. Instantly recognizable. The Boys are Street Fighter looking completely jacked and dead sexy. Girls are gonna love this. Maybe we can find you a Cammy or Chun-Li to get you over that one goth chick that got you in your feels."
Ok, either Isaiah's got the same power that Mitch has, or I'm just that obvious?
As "The Boys" pile into the party, a wail trails off in the distance. "S@+#. Not again..." he mumbles to himself. He quickly crosses the threshold and allows the bass to drown out the hallucinations.
Agreed with the Eldritch team to be on the alert, Grace walks down in her armor and with her sword....
Ah, but these are made of cardboard. She and Win worked on their costumes together, and she is wearing a carefully paper-crafted helmet with styrofoam goat horns and leather, fur, and banded armor--a female take on the Dragonborn from Skyrim. Somewhere at a party that Grace is supposed to check in at later, Win is dressed as Serana the Vampire from the same game. She walks around, half wary, but covering up a sense of unease by singing, "Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red/Who came riding to Whiterun from old Rorikstead/And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade/
As he told of bold battles and gold he had made! But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red/ When he met the shield-maiden Matilda, who said..."
The peaceful denizens of Ditko street are at first confused and then angered by the approaching roar of a gas engine. The street is closed to vehicle traffic, paved in cobblestones, pedestrian only.
An extended custom motorcycle rumbles by before screeching to a halt in front of an unremarkable brownstone. A father grabs pulls his daughter's arm, "Grace, let's get inside." But the girl doesn't move, rooted to the ground in fear.
The rider of the bike wears a skull mask of some sort and a black-violet hood. He dismounts the bike and strides up the stoop of the building. When he places his hand on the door, a bright light flashes and he is thrown backward, down the stairs and onto the street.
He tumbles with the agility of a man who has survived a motorcycle accident or two, regaining his feet and dusting himself off.
Two police officers rush down the street toward him, one with a taser drawn and one with a pistol. "DOWN ON THE GROUND! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND."
The death mask turns toward the cops, and in a husky voice says, "For I have become Death, the destroyer of you." The empty eyes flare and the cops suddenly pale and drop weakly to the cobblestones.
Those with magic or fey senses see a glowing light emanating from Ditko Streek and this building in particular.
Grace cuts her song short as she first hears the roaring engines where they don't belong, and then hears her name. "Calesvol, she intones low, and the cardboard sword in her hand seems to be replaced by mystic steel. Running toward the sounds, she then spots the man and child, the police, the motorcyclist... and the odd light.
She charges forward, trying to interpose herself between the bystanders and the motorcyclist. Her cardboard helmet flies off in the rush of motion, blonde hair flying loose from half-pinned up hair.
The wailing never seems to stop for Oswald. What was once far away feels more "down the street", or even around the corner. It takes him a moment to realize this isn't the same wailing from the far-off recesses of his mind, but the wails of a cop car. "Boys! Boys! The cops! I told you!" He tries to yell over the music, but at this point, The Boys have preoccupied themselves with a trio of colorful masked lady-ninjas.
He steps outside in time to see a cop car in the distance and two cops with weapons drawn on a hooded figure. "Oh sh-- No," he shouts over the din of onlookers outside. Before he could figure out what's going on, his body propels him forward, trampling over cobblestones. He'd seen this image way too many times on TV as of late and he always said he wouldn't allow himself to be a bystander. There's no fear in his body, no thoughts, just action. Halfway to the scene though, he feels something's off. The hooded figure said something, but Oz can't make it out. The cops suddenly drop. Something is DEFINITELY not right, he thinks to himself.
He slowly approaches the hooded figure with a hand reaching out for support. "Bro you strai--" he stops immediately as a woman with a literal ACTUAL SWORD charges the figure.
Little Gracie's eyes grow large as her hero slides across the cobbles, taking a role in front of her. She shakes off her dad's hand and grasps her own glowing sword in both hands. She whispers, barely loud enough to hear, "Good Knight, we got this..."
Eldritch. A heavy name to bear. Max's arcane senses light up with the magical energies released as the Nerian Nexus returns to this realm. This shouldn't be happening. Not now. Not for months. But something has happened. Something has breached the wards of the Nexus.
Cesarina is in the middle of checking out when she feels it.
I knew I couldn't get through one night without some kind of incident. she says, sighing internally.
"Hold these for me?" she asks the store clerk, and without waiting for a response races off as fast as her legs can carry her.
"Sometimes I wish He had seen fit to give me the ability to grow wings and fly." she mutters to herself, legs pumping.
On arriving at the scene, she quickly takes in the situation, and without hesitation throws her power behind protecting the child and her father.
"You will not harm them!" she calls, creating an archway of golden light around them, which extends to the relative safety of the street behind her.
"Move! Quickly!" she calls to the civilians.
It was early in the evening and Max was at a pre-party at a friend's apartment from the Claremont Academy. His friend was more than normal but not at the power level of Max, his girlfriend and her friends were not powered or in the know. It was the Claremont normal until Max's eyes involuntarily narrowed when the effectively blinding explosion of magic erupts from the breaching of the Nerian Nexus.
Conversation stopped to look at Max's obvious discomfort. Bringing his hand to his head, he says, "Sorry. Need to go. Can't kick these migraines. You're back door still clear?"
The Claremont alum's eyebrows arch at the usual passwords. He reaches out to take Max's drink and replies, "Yeah, the back door is the fastest way out. Good luck."
Max heads down the hallway past the bathroom and into the bedroom. He closes the door and says with a magical gesture, ""By the Mystic Moon of Munnopor,” causing his Westley costume to be replaced by his Eldritch costume with his glowing Amulet of the Seraphim.
Then with both hands magically gesturing, Eldritch commands, "Open a Powerful Portal of Portheus," causing a man-sized hole to open in space connecting the bedroom to Ditko street. Then, he steps through closing the portal behind him surveying the scene.
Grace looks around to see the child, in her little suit of armor and sword. As her heart bursts and breaks and she grasps for a response, Cesarina appears and creates the magic archway. Grace looks at the little girl, locking eyes with her and offering an encouraging smile. "Thanks for the help, Squire. I need you to look after your dad for me, alright? Can you help him get through the archway the lady has created there?"
Oswald falls flat on the butt of his khaki cut-off shorts, eyes agape.
A man appears from thin air. A woman waves her hands and luminous barriers wrap across the street. The swordswoman now decked out in armor.
In a minor tizzy of panic, Oswald code switches (something he'd only ever do in the presence of his Aussie family).
"WHAT THE F*** IS GOING ON!"
Little Gracie's eyes grow large as she realizes that her hero is standing...right...there. Color rushes back into her face as she finds the will to move again. Daniel (the father) and Gracie rush through the archway into protection.
This skull faced man with the motorcycle is Angel, short for Angel of Death. He is one of the Devil's Advocates, a foursome who run a powerful biker gang. Each of them sold his soul for power, and so they have powers that line up with the four horsemen of the Apocalypse. Whether the beings whose powers they share are the actual horsemen is a matter of some debate. Their gang also includes hundreds of normal motorcycle gang members.
Angel turns toward Gracie and Cesarina. He seems more annoyed than intimidated by your arrival on the scene. "Listen, I don't really have time to deal with you, why don't you run off and die."
The hooded figure turns out to be the attacker in this scenario. He let the current events mess with his head and he put himself in danger. Worst of all, he's dressed like a fool.
Oh no, I really messed up. I really messed up! What do I do what do I do what do I do...
The screams are deafening, palpable, right in between his ears accumulating like humidity. A cloud of screams, sharp stinging pain shooting like lightning flooding his senses with static. That familiar yet ethereal howl. Two syllables that he spent days trying to translate. ELDRITCH. So loud his vision blurs a bit as he crawls back. The world dims as darkness takes his sight. Yet, with the darkness.... he can see clearly... more so than before? He tries his hardest to get off the ground but fear paralyzes his limbs.
I have to do something! he repeats in an attempt to drown out that strange word.
Angel of Death utters the word "Die", and though not directed at him, he feels a sharp jab to the gut. The pain overwhelms him, as he turns his head away, all the while wishing there was something that he could do.
Unbeknownst to Oswald, an eyeball appears 10 feet above Angel of Death. About 5 feet in diameter, hazy, wisping black sclera with a blood-red iris. The eye makes a quick sweep of the scene before focusing on Angel and immediately erupts in a horrible tangle of blade-tipped tentacles.
Cesarina's mental training alone is more enough to shrug off the vitality sapping effects of "Angel's" power, but her blessings don't hurt...
Gracie is shaken by a wave of preternatural dread and pain, but so recently reminded that others are depending upon her and have faith in her, she grits her teeth and shakes off the worst of it.
Trying to conceal the shaking in her hands, she scowls at Angel. "Straight to death threats, eh? If that's how you wanna play it..."
Hefting her blade she leaps upward remarkably high and comes down toward the biker, sword blazing.
Aiming for show and force rather than finesse she does not connect--but she hopes his full attention is upon her as her allies move in upon the death-masked murderer.
Eldritch arrives next Cesarina down the block from the Nesian Nexus. "The Nesian Nexus has been breached. Its security is more important than that Death biker." He strides forward and UP as if he was climbing invisible stairs in the sky.
"Be bound by the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak," the mage commands to cause red ribbons to spring from his glowing hand gestures toward the Angel of Death biker.
"He was trying to get in!" Gracie informs Eldritch.
Angel catches a tentacle from the eye as it wraps around his forearm. He wrenches it off and deftly ducks under the crimson bands attempting to bind him. He moves with a demonic strength and quickness.
Looking to the sky for a moment, he mutters, "Ok your highness, our hostess isn't here and some of the other guests don't seem to appreciate our attendance."
At that, the air in the middle of the street bursts into flame, and three more motorcycles roar out of the fiery portal. Behind them, appears an attractive woman with red hair and short horns. She wears tall black boots, a red and black corset, and a black cape.
The motorcycle riders are the remaining four horsemen.
Completely unaware of his attack on Angel, Oswald scurries on his hands and knees behind some cover. The cacophony in his head reaches a new peak. Unable to handle the screeching screams from the void he balls himself up in a fetal position as a cold sweat smears his green body paint. Horrendously violent thoughts race through his mind, grisly images from his worst nightmare that send tremors down his spine. Unable to hold on any longer, Oswald passes out.
The demonically empowered foes don't lend themselves to Cesarina feeling particularly merciful, especially given the apparent greater crisis Max says is going to start soon.
The instant the civilians get to safety, she drops the golden archway and instead creates a circle of Light, so bright as to be nearly blinding, around all the hellspawn.
"'More important' or not, we can't just leave them out here to slaughter people! We need to take them down, quickly!"
Hellqueen hangs back at the rear of the formation, saying "Clear the way to the door, advocates. I shall prepare a spell of opening."
Angel charges Cesarina, lashing out with good old fashioned fisticuffs.
Seeing the demonic biker try to charge Cesarina rather than engage with her, Gracie slides in movement along with the demon and keeps his blows from intersecting with the holy warrior.
The death-powered warrior saps Gracie's strength, but she remains standing.
"S-sod off," she manages to mutter, lifting Calesvol to release a blast of light at Angel.
"Ah! Hold on!" Cesarina calls out, touching Gracie on the shoulder.
Eldritch twitched when the Hellqueen arrived with reinforcements. She was powerful in her own right. With super goons, she was a serious threat. So, offense or defense, he wondered to himself.
Defense. "By Phaedrus's Fortified Forms," the mage commands. His glowing, gesturing hands cause a blue, opaque bubble to envelope the front door of the brownstone containing the Nesian Nexus.
Angel looms in front of Gracie in a brawler's fighting stance as Cesarina's light pours over the Knight.
Suddenly, Angel grunts as something takes his feet out from under him and he falls without grace, face to the street. Cesarina and Grace might be surprised to see a spectral hound the size of a horse with its maw around Angel's leg. The beast drags the possessed gangster away from you toward a figure that somehow arrived without your notice.
You see a massive grey horse, like a Budweiser horse on steroids. It is beautiful if unsettling. Its rider is equally massive, a heavily muscled, bare chested man with long wild hair and the antlers of a magnificent stag. He wears a sort of skirt and his legs and feet are wrapped in leather cords. At his side is a short (relative to his size) bronze sword with simple cross guard. In his hands is a massive bow, matching his height at about 9 feet.
"The Lady Knight's death is mine to oversee, Azrael. Keep your battle with the servant of the Nazarene."
Angel scrabbles at the cobblestones, almost whining in response, "It's not my fault, she got in the way."
Hellqueen notices Eldritch blocking her way to the Nexus. "You think your manipulations can keep me from the treasures within the Nexus?! I could teleport past them easily, but it will be more rewarding to cross the threshold stepping over your corpse."
Cueball (War) guns his bike, riding it like an ancient knight on a warhorse. He races toward Gracie, his battle-axe swinging.
Famine and Plague simply roll forward slowly, letting the clouds of their powers sweep over you.
Gracie, Cesarina, and Eldritch must make:
Eldritch blocks the hellfire. Too much practice at that. Then, two clouds roll over him causing him to cough racking his body.
Grace doesn't have time to thank Cesarina before more trouble shows up. Her heart drops to her stomach as Gynn ap Nudd appears, but she tries to keep her cool. "What, you jealous a biker gang might do to me what you're too weak to accomplish? Go back to Avalon, Gwyn. Whatever you're hunting, you'll not find it here." A brief pause as something occurs to her. "Are you why there's a fey glow everywhere?"
War's ax clangs harmlessly off Gracie's magic armor. As the waves of apocalyptic force wash over her she glares. "Great. Now I'm annoyed and I've got the munchies. Make way for Grace the Hangry Knight!"
She steps around War, toward famine and death (), to put herself between more of the bikers and Gwyn. She's hoping Gwyn will keep clearing out the Devil's Advocates to get to her rather than attacking her comrades. She returns an attack to war.