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In an otherwise empty void, a platform a few miles in diameter floats, twilight star like twinkling lending a dim light to the platform's surface. A gate that could encircle a football field rises in the center of the platform, its glittering silver surface marked with millions of tiny runes.
This place is called The Cynosure, and it is here that Arinolus has summoned you, his servitors, via the Fenloch'No'ir, devices allowing you to communicate with him and each other regardless of the Realms each of you may occupy. The Fenloch'No'ir have an additional function only Arinolus may activate, allowing you to transport yourselves from any Realm to The Cynosure without using a Luum Gate. Fortunately, in his benevolence, it does not instantly summon you, rather giving you a week to prepare before you are pulled to The Cynosure from wherever you are. You may choose to have the Fenloch'No'ir return you to The Cynosure at any time during this week if it is your preference.
One by one, you begin to appear on The Cynosure's platform or in the void above it.
Upon receiving the notices, Caravalle pops quickly over to the empty platform. Seeing the state of it, she shakes her head. "Oh, this won't do," she says and pops away into the ether.
Shortly thereafter she returns. She gestures and produces a long table filled with a variety of foods. Meats, cheeses and various breads. Fruits from many planes. A variety of beverages from gentle refreshment to serious liqueurs. A pile of desserts that staggers the imagination.
She also waves and spreads greenery over the barren surface. She knows it wont last in the long term, but she chooses to make the place pleasant for their initial introduction.
The First Flame pauses in its flight as it receives its summons, considering. It has not an urgent task at present, and it knows Arinolus would not summon it lightly. Thus, it decides not to delay responding and requests to be pulled to The Cynosure immediately.
It appears above the platform, its Radiance brightening the twilight of the place. It flaps its massive wings once, twice, then gently sets its talons down on the 'ground' of The Cynosure. The First Flame folds its great wings, tiny arcs of flame jumping between its fiery feathers.
The gigantic firebird turns its gaze to Caravalle. I greet you, it 'says', its words falling upon her mind like warm afternoon sunshine. I see that I am not the only one summoned. Have you word yet of the purpose of the summons?
Its words dim, like sun shrouded by cloud. My own thoughts turn towards the End-Flame, but I am not certain.
Evelynda paused in her training when she heard the call from Arinolus. "Slefjafretr," she muttered. She hated to stop in the middle of a session, but He was her patron and she knew it would be important. It was too easy for her to forget about time in this place, where the day and night changed at her whim rather than a measurable number of minutes, and often what had felt like only hours to her was weeks elsewhere. She spoke one of her coded passwords and the animate snowmen that she liked to think of as her "trainers" immediately ceased fighting, little puffs of powder descending to the earth in a miniature snowfall. Today they were dragons, and their serpentine faces looked almost disappointed. "I must go," she explained tersely. "The master calls."
"An' when will ye return, bhean uasa?" The voice came from nearby, where Randgríðr and Radgríðr were hiding. Lyn still couldn't tell the two hags apart, since they were both copies from the same mold, but she suspected it was Randgríðr who spoke, since being slightly older she often took the lead over her twin sister. It always amazed her how harmless and lilting their brogue sounded to her ears, and she was thankful that unlike real winter hags, she could trust that they were not plotting evil at every moment.
"I do not know," she replied as she lifted herself up and began to fly back to Tårnheim, her long pleated gown whipping around her ankles as she took to the air. "Expect me when you see me. Obey Reginleifr in my absence and defend Tårn with your last breath. Prosit." The two women emerged from the scrub and ceremonially saluted her, bowing their heads and placing their fists over their hearts.
Evelynda floated into her solar at the top of the tower, where Reginleifr hovered within the domed structure in contemplation. She chuckled softly to herself at the pun like she always did and nodded to her celestial servant, as she often thought of him. "Did you hear that?" she asked as she stepped behind the screen and began to change into her travel clothes.
--OF COURSE, MISTRESS-- came the words directly in her mind, unsettling and intimate at the same time. As the idea of his voice resonated in her head, he held out each component of her outfit for her to take, and she pulled and buckled and smoothed out the thick fabric. It was silly, her not wanting to change in front of him, but fortunately Reg had never made a big deal about it. As the shadow of an angel, she half-suspected that he approved.
"Well." It was hard to know what to say when the other person did not speak and could read your thoughts instantly. Lyn didn't know why she bothered talking to him, except that it felt somehow more personal. She was sure he knew, but it still made her feel uncomfortable. In silence she took all of her various spell components and magical devices and hid them within her deep pockets. Then she whistled: a short, sharp, piercing sound, and her familiars flew in and landed on her shoulders. "Vertu sæll." She bowed her head and allowed Arinolus's summons to bring her through the portal.
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Alighting upon the platform, Evelynda narrows her eyes. Something was wrong-- the ground was covered in lush, green plants, and there was a banquet table laid in the center of the Cynosure. Two others had already arrived, and she studied them warily as she stepped closer, her hair slightly tensed in readiness. Was Arinolus's domain under attack? Had she been called to defend her master against some kind of faerie threat?
"Who are you?" she asks, in a voice louder and harsher perhaps than she intended, when she is close enough to speak (and both the others and the table is within her reach). A note of suspicion is obvious in her tone, and her eyes flicker back and forth between the colossal eagle and the well-dressed lady.
"I am Princess Caravalle," she says to the two new entrants. "I don't think we need the recital of further titles and honors, but I can if you prefer. I have been called by Arinolus, as I suspect you two have as well."
She indicates the table, "Please, feel free to enjoy the repast. I expect that we will be tasked with something requiring all of our skills, and I think sharing a meal is often a good step towards forming a bond."
Evelynda involuntarily looks at the table when the tiny woman calls her attention to it, and then blinks in frustration for allowing her gaze to be so easily deflected. She inhales shallowly, and is annoyed to discover that it smells delicious. When was the last time she had had anything to eat? Months, at least. Is this woman trying to tempt me?
Her eyes flicker back to the princess and she purses her lips. Master Arinolus would not allow these others to manifest here if they were not His allies, surely. Still, she resents the fact that she doesn't know anything about them. Jealousy, of a sort. She shakes her head and raises an unkempt eyebrow. "A princess?" she says carefully. "And more?"
She scowls back at the table and decides that some decorum is required. She looks over the available dishes but does not touch any of them-- possibly because nothing would fit in her enormous hands. She mutters some words under her breath: it sounds like an incantation but there is no corresponding magical effect that would indicate she has cast a spell. Then she says "I will take water and break bread with you, to avoid giving offense, but I require your word that you will not take advantage of my trust. Is this acceptable to you, Princess Caravalle?" She cannot keep an ironic note out of her voice as she addresses the faerie lady by her title. (It sounds like she might have personal reasons for disliking noblewomen, or perhaps she knows another princess well enough to have feelings about them.)
The colossal firebird turns its gaze toward the newcomer, its eyes two brighter orbs of yellow amongst its fiery plummage.
Its words fall on the minds of the two other beings like the light of a distant star, remote and uncaring. "I have been called many things over the long eons. The names matter not to me. But if you require a name, call me The First Flame.
Its tone softens, the remote star twinkling in amusement, as its gaze turns back to Caravalle. I thank you for the offer of food, but I have no need nor use for such sustenance. Nor, I think, would you appreciate the smoke of its burning at the touch of my throat. I ask your understanding in this thing.
Next nebular dust begins to shroud the star of its telepathic speaking, doubt creeping in to its thoughts. Three are here, and yet does not Arinolus reveal himself. How many has he called? In all my time, I have never before seen more than three called, and I fear what this means for our purpose.
She takes both of the other two very seriously. She puts her clasped hands to her head and her heart. She speaks with the solemnity of an Oath. "I swear to you that I will not betray your trust. Though this is not my domain, I offer this food with all of the courtesy and obligations of a host to a guest. While we dine I will not harm you and I will stand beside you against any outside threats." She will hold until the giantess makes a gesture of acceptance.
When that is done, she turns to the First Flame. "You have my understanding. I have heard of the First Flame and I am honored to be called alongside you. Perhaps one day a song or story will sustain your spirit."
Evelynda nods, as if Princess Caravalle's oath is acceptable to her. She shifts awkwardly, moving her weight from one foot to the other. "I am Evelynda," she says shortly, and adds "I have no titles." She seems to admit this information grudgingly.
When The First Flame speaks telepathically, she turns to regard it with curiosity. No need of sustenance, yes, but no desire either? Was the creature showing off its purity, demonstrating that, like her, it would not be tempted by earthly delights? Did this represent something greater, an assertion that it would not be bound by faerie rules or obligations due a host? Or is it so far removed from society that it simply did not understand the politics of interpersonal relationships? Evelynda chuckles ruefully to herself, painfully aware of her own shortcomings in that direction, but also unwilling to put in much effort to mitigate her general lack of refinement. She realized she was staring without saying anything, like she often did with Reginleifr. It was funny how when someone doesn't speak, everyone else seems to become quiet around them as well.
From her shoulder, one of her three raven familiars quorks a flat note, and mutters "Three. Three. Three." Evelynda rolls her eyes. "Hush, Elle, surely The First Flame meant no offense. Like the logos is part of the mind, you are part of me." Elle isn't talking, she thinks. Is he intimidated? She supposed seeing a gigantic flaming bird put them all on edge. She sighs. "My friends here are Logic, Memory, and Creativity." Best to use their full names, she decides, though she is not sure of the formalities here.
The First Flame inclines its great head to the three ravens. Its voice falls like gentle rays of dawn's light upon them. I meant no offense to you. I was counting the summons, and assumed that you had come at the summons for your friend here. Its thoughts indicate Evelynda.
Its regard turns to Caravalle, the light of its voice still soft. Songs and stories indeed sustain my mind and spirit in the depths of the void. Perhaps there will be time to share them if our task does not prove too urgent, or after if otherwise.
Evelynda nods to The First Flame, and mutters again to her familiars (presumably conveying what the firebird has said in her mind) before saying aloud "There, you see Elle? I told you." The raven makes another quorking sound, as if cowed, and nibbles at its wing.
While they wait for their host, or others who may have been summoned, Evelynda looks around at the changes to the Cynosure. She must admit to herself that it does look more welcoming. "Princess Caravalle, do you often entertain guests on the Master's behalf? I don't think I have ever seen His domain so... green. Is it your magic that transforms it so, or have you maybe brought these things from somewhere else?" She uncharacteristically tries to sound encouraging and appreciative, but there is a quality of disdain around the edges that might suggest she prefers an environment that is less lush and verdant.
"Oh, I did this on my own. I have a little talent for nature magic. I thought it might help us to prepare for this mission. I expect it to be dangerous and harrowing. We shall surely be tested. I like to remind myself of the worlds we protect, the little things that make up our lives. I've known people who got lost in battle and broken inside. As if part of him had been unmade. I vow to stay true to myself and seek the light while fighting the dark."
She also addresses the ravens, "A pleasure to meet you. Please feel free to enjoy the buffet."
Evelynda shrugs to acknowledge the princess's words, as if she expected nothing less than such an eloquent speech. She gestures with her head toward the table, and the ravens don't need to be asked twice. They flap over and settle on three different places on the table and begin to tear into the banquet with gusto. "Corn!" one of them (probably Creativity) cries. A look of annoyance flickers across Evelynda's face. "Stop that," she says irritably. The raven briefly looks abashed.
Sharletta lies upon a sheet of webbing strung between two tall oaks. Hearing the summons she stirs from her slumber, stretching out her body. She is greeted by the bright morning sun and the expansive canopy of green. to her left, she can spot the nearby village, though only the temple of Arinolus peaks through the forest's cover. She had killed a local monster that had been plaguing the village's livestock. In thanks, they had showered her with gifts of local delicacies and fine linen. They would have run scared of me before. But now that I killed what they could not, and showed my strength, they welcome me? What fools.
Answering the summons she blinks out of that realm and into the Cynosure. Before those gathered appears a new creature. Their form is that of a slender elf-like woman but with a spider's thorax and eight legs jutting out from beneath her waist. Her hair and spider parts share the same charcoal colour while her skin is pale and dotted with streaks of white and grey markings.
Her emerald eyes blink at the odd gathering of beings. What is Arinolus up to? You may address me as Sharletta. Does anyone know the specifics as to why we are here? Her wary eyes focus on the giant bird of fire, a small sense of unease in them. Noticing the table piled with food she strides over eyes peeling over its many delicacies. Taking her time she begins to pick at anything she has not seen before revelling in any unique experiences.
The First Flame turns its blazing eyes to the latest arrival. A fourth? Would Arinolus appear now, or were there yet more to come?
Its words light on the minds of all present as the gentle rays of dawn. Greetings to you, Sharletta. Arinolus has yet to inform us of the purpose of the summons.
Storm clouds begin to dim the light of its words. But for such a group of powers to be gathered, I can think of no other purpose than confronting the End-Flame.
"Well-met and welcome. I am Princess Caravalle. It seems that this task will be enormous." Both in the scale of the mission and the scale of her allies.
The Fey court is made up of immortals all seeking new sensations and trying to one-up their companions. Sharlotta will likely find new and interesting tastes in the buffet. Most dishes include ingredients from different but complementary planes.
Evelynda watches Sharletta go over the food, making sure her familiars stay out of the newcomer's way with a series of head nods and glares. The ravens on the table seem to be more interested in making a mess than actually eating the banquet, picking through the various dishes like they are digging for worms.
Volgroruth was in the middle of training with the Hellfire Wolves, his elite guard, when the summons from Arinolus came. It had been a little over a decade since he was last called, as it was not often that the one above all requested the fiendish orc warlord. When he was, it usually meant things were fairly dire.
After wrapping up the day's session, he dispatched the Wolves back to the Black Citadel to inform Bane of his Champion's departure. Willing Slaughterfang to his hand from where it rested nearby, Vol cut a rift in the air, and stepped through to the Cynosure just in time to receive the end of the telepathic message from the First Flame.
"So, it is likely to be war then? A fitting purpose for one such as myself to be summoned. I am Warchief Volgroruth Bloodscream, Divine Champion of Bane, Lord of Tyranny. I am generally brought in as a last resort."
Volgroruth positively towers over the vast majority of mere mortals. He stands taller than even most giants, with colossal bat-like wings sprouting from his back. He wears no armor or even a shirt, but instead it appears that there are hunks of metal, barbed wire, and fragments of rusted weapons embedded in his jet black flesh. His huge chest, some twenty feet wide, massive arms, and the rest of his exposed skin(aside from his face) is covered in eldritch tattoos that glow a faint, sickly green color. His eyes smolder a dark red, and a pair of horns curl around each side of his head. Bone spikes protrude from his jaw, and two small tusks jut up from his mouth.
A palpable sense of dread and doom surrounds the fel orc, and he wields a gigantic, vicious looking axe. A belt of petrified skulls adorns his waist, depicting the heads of humans, elves, dwarves, and even a trio of dragons. Black sapphires have been inserted into the eye sockets, and arcane runes have been carved into the bone. Around his neck hangs an enormous black gauntlet, studded with emeralds. Atop his brow sits a twisted metal crown, bejeweled with bloodstones.
"Well, it seems this problem is even bigger than we thought." says the positively petite princess. She flies a little higher to avoid being stepped upon. "I have refreshments, but I do apologize for not anticipating a wider variety of dietary requirements. I shall endeavor to provide better hospitality in the future."
The First Flame considers the latest arrival with a cocked head.
Its words fall on the Warchief's mind like the troubled light of a hot, newborn star, still roiling in the aftermath of its ignition. Five? And such as you as well as those here already? War may be an understatement, as describing the collision of galaxies as a 'war'.
For a moment its thoughts are the brilliant flash of colliding stars, before fading to the twinkling glow of a distant star through a living world's atmosphere as it turns to Caravalle. My dietary requirements are to skim the atmosphere of a great cloud-world once in a great while. I need only the raw material of primordial creation, and that not in a living atmosphere. Aught else will simply burn to naught before it finishes traveling down my throat. I have no complaints about your hospitality.
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a voice rings out inside your minds.
The gate opens, revealing a space-eye's view of a green-yellow planet with vast oceans and a single northern polar continent about the size of South America.
The planet rotates, and an island the size of New Guinea about 500 miles away from the main continent comes into focus.
You are aware from your previous dealings with the servants of Sporaxus that Gorvet is a title given to an extremely powerful commanding officer among their ranks.
Finally! We can start taking the fight to them. I've had enough lounging around. she wipes away some leftover morsels of food, grinning with a toothy smile and wild eyes. Do we know the Mantle's exact location? How long has this Gorvet been there?
As Arinolus's voice sounds in its mind, The First Flame mantles respectfully. Raising its head once again, it 'speaks', its thoughts as fierce and bright as a blue-tinged titan among stars. It shall be done. The End-Flame shall not prevail.
It pauses a moment, the fierceness of its thought-light softening in wordless agreement with Sharletta's questions. The Gorvet--should we seek their destruction as well, or focus solely on the Mantle? That is, if they do not force the issue themself.
A flare of burning light in their thoughts makes clear the great firebird's thoughts on the subject.
Evelynda nods slowly as she absorbs this information. She considers if she can draw upon anything from her vast stores of knowledge that would be useful to their mission. "I take it this is everyone, then?" she says, looking around at the group. "Good. We should prepare ourselves before we go through the gate-- I'm sure we all have spells and such that might help the group, and I'd very much like to be more familiar with our various capabilities and tactics before we find ourselves under fire or kaiju."
"Let's see, there are time and space. I tend to twist them around. Teleportation, playing with speed, wishing people into the cornfield, that kind of thing. If our foes rely on sight, I can fill an area with fog. does anybody have an issue with that? I throw various energies when we need to hurt people. Oh, and if you call me name, I'll hear your message no matter where you are."
She will also brush against each of you to give you a moment of luck.
Lucky number
Bloodscream grins at the mention of what guards the Mantle. "Ah, there are Kaiju guardians, this is why I was summoned. What do we know of the forces arrayed against us? How many Kaiju guard this isle? Is there an actual army present as well? What are these 'remnant machines' you spoke of?"
Evelynda nods at Princess Caravalle, as if taking this information under advisement. "While we are all gathered here, I will cast several spells that will affect all of us, and I will bind them with runes so that they last indefinitely. I suggest you accept them, and I give you my oath by Arinolus that I will include no curses with these blessings."
With each spell, she gestures and draws a trio of sigils in the air that briefly glow blue before fading away.
"This first will allow you to see through smoke and fog-- which it sounds like is something that may come in handy. Ég, Evelynda, bind umbreytingarúnina við aska brautina!" (enduring ashen path; level 7 transmutation magic, CL 30)
"These five spells ward against energy of all kinds. Ég, Evelynda, bindi rúnina af abjuration við samfélagslega mótstöðuorku!" (enduring communal resist energy: acid, cold, electricity, fire, sonic; level 8 abjuration magic, CL 30 [resist 30])
"By this spell will we all understand and speak any language. Ég, Evelynda, bind spárúnu við samfélagstungur!" (enduring communal tongues; level 9 divination magic, CL 30)
"As the legendary giants of old, this spell will guard you against fear and charm magic. Ég, Evelynda, bind töfrarúnina við hetjulega ákall!" (enduring heroic invocation; level 14 enchantment magic, CL 30)
"This spell will tether your souls to me, so that none of us may die from physical injury, no matter how much damage we take. Ég, Evelynda, bindi dauðarúnina dauðalausa!" (ascendant enduring deathless; level 13 necromancy magic, CL 30)
"And finally, this spell will remove some of the weight of time, allowing us to move faster and act more often in battle. Ég, Evelynda, bind umbreytingarúnina við flýti!" (enduring mythic haste; level 8 transmutation magic, CL 30)
"Ooooh, tingly!" she exclaims as the new magics cover her. "Thank you." Her eyes sparkle a bit more as she is examining the different kind of spellcasting.
While she is still appreciative, she is less excited about the tongues. She also swishes her arm and does a quick spin with the haste, evaluating the effect.
Ah yes, a good idea. Sharletta motions her hands and utters a few words of magic Invenire scientia quaerentium. That should block out others' attempts to find us and let me find them. I can lower this defence if need be.
Detect Scrying
As Caravalle finishes casting her spell on Sharletta, she casts a spell of her own. Allow me, this will make you unaffected by my magic when I envelope myself in darkness. Oh, and you might feel a slight pinch. Patet visus. A moment after you feel the magic wash over you, you do feel a small needle-like prick where her hand touches yours and then a subtle pain that travels up the arm and neck before subsiding.
clearsight
Sharletta then repeats this process with everyone else, making sure to mention the slight pain that might come from her spell, smiling as she does.
Evelynda senses something in the spider-woman's tone. She squints at Sharletta suspiciously. "There's something you're not telling us," she says. "What would cause the slight pinch of which you speak? Is that your spell, or something else?"
"You put something inside us?! Some part of your hive?" She says this with no visible sign of emotion, but an intensity that would leave lesser mortals cowering in the corner. She locks eyes on Sharletta, "I don't think you intended harm, but please explain yourself and all of the ramifications of this - good and bad."
She raises her eyebrow, looking intently at her. "What was that pinch? I don't think it was part of the spell."
The First Flame waits for the answer to the question the others are asking before allowing Sharletta close.
She speaks hurriedly against the accusations. You caught me. It isn't bad, or rather it doesn't have to be. It's purpose is to give me easier access to your body and mind... Wait no! That sounds bad. I intend to use it only for your benefit. To communicate with you over great distances, give you an energy boost, it can even improve your mental defences... at least against others. Sharletta takes a moment to try and calm herself. We have historically used it to dominate, to create thralls, both living and dead. But We no longer exist, only I. Sporaxus consumed all but me! Sporaxus will die! And all of you will help me. I will not harm or control you. I only sought to trick you because I have found it easier to ask for forgiveness after one has seen the benefits. You individualistic species tend to find having another being inside you to be... unsettling. You sense no lies in what she says, only anger at Sporaxus, sadness and fear at being alone, and confusion at "individualistic species".
The warchief easily sees through the spider like woman's deception, and at first he is filled with a violent rage. Not only at how she dared to try and dupe him, but also for 'infecting' him with some sort of insect. So great is his anger that he takes an involuntary step towards her, and his hand starts to raise in order to strike down this insolent whelp.
However, she begins to quickly explain, and while it didn't completely excuse her attempt at lying, it did cool his temper some. "This, *implant*, it can bolster our capabilities, and improve our chances of success in combating the End-Bringer? If what you say is true, then for now, you are forgiven. However, do not seek to deceive me ever again, or I will crush you like the bug you resemble, and your kind will truly be no more. I am no pawn for you to play with, *inscet*." He states with a clear edge to his tone, as he lowers his hand.
The First Flame looks down upon Sharletta with what might be sympathy. The light of its thoughts is gentle and warm, like afternoon sunshine that has heated stones to perfect lounging temperature. I think we must all learn about working together. We are accustomed, each of us, to being peerless, yes? Beings like us are rare indeed in each universe, much less ones that work together. No doubt we shall all find points of friction between us as we move forward, but we must put these aside and learn to trust one another, else the End-Flame shall consume all. We must keep no secrets from one another in what we are doing.
Its thought-light grows fiercer as it turns its burning gaze to Evelynda. You asked of capabilities. I am The First Flame. The fires of the stars are my blood and breath, and I can draw them forth to consume everything from my foes to solid stone. My Radiance can scorch flesh within and without or turn talon or blade into searing blazes. But light also brings life, and so may I. Wounds and illness of all sorts I can burn away at a thought, and even death retreats before my Radiance. You shall also find that my simple presence lifts the heart and strengthens the limb.
It returns its gaze to Sharletta, its light again growing softer. I would be curious if your little creature can survive my interior.
"It is unsettling. But we are here for a purpose and I have no illusions that opposing our Common Enemy is going to always be an enjoyable romp. I'm willing to accept some unsettling to be able to fight them."
"May I examine one?" If so she'll look at it and examine it with her senses. "It's more of a psychic entity than physical. Somehow, that seems less disturbing to me."
Evelynda watches Sharletta carefully. She doesn't want to show it, but she feels some sympathy for the dark spider-woman nonetheless. To be the only remaining member of a race with a hive-mind... how frightening. How alone she must feel. Evelynda continues to frown, glowering at Sharletta though she knows that her own magic is protecting everyone from fear. It might be my own fault that she thought to risk our ire by implanting her drones within us, she realizes suddenly. Fearless, heh.
"Hmm," she says slowly. "I think these beings, these psychic extensions of you, do have detrimental effects as well, but I believe that you recognize your own self-interest in not provoking the rest of us against you. If, for example, they make us more susceptible to your curses and hexes, can you control yourself? Can you swear you will not use their power to harm against us?" She crosses her arms. "If so, with Arinolus as your witness, then I will allow you to place one of them within me."
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GORVET UNCLEUR RAVROS
Gorvet Uncleur Ravros leads the Legions of Sporaxus known as the "Obliviax" and the "Scions of Silence" and has led them on the destruction of no less than 1000 worlds. The destruction of many of these worlds were tertiary to his objectives, being something of a sport among the Gorvets. His usual methodology of engineering this destruction is to send the Obliviax to the world's core while leading the Scions in fulfilling the actual objective, although he has also been known to use the Scions as a distracting force while leading the Obliviax to the heart of the mission for more well-guarded secrets.
The Obliviax are powerful but stealthy agents of undoing, while the Scions are more brutish and numerous, arguably equally powerful in their own way.
Gorvet Uncleur Ravros is a powerful agent of undoing, with vast magical abilities and a couple of legions of followers. Due to the nature of the Empty Flame, much of what has been recorded of his existence has been unmade. Still, whispers, rumors, and secrets of the Verse are yours to gather, and you know he uses primarily transmutation and necromantic abilities, as well as an innate control over the Empty Flame which allows him to erase the existence of those who would dare strike him in personal combat.
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THE MANTLE OF MOORED QUIDDITY
This mantle offers some resistance against the Empty Flame to the wearer and close-by allies. While it is known that absolutely nothing can withstand the purity of the Empty Flame as wielded by Sporaxus, their followers only have access to a version of the Empty Flame which allows them to wield it without burning themselves out of existence. This mantle latches onto that limited protection offered to the followers of Sporaxus and grants it to the wearer and allies within 100 feet per level.
Evelynda casts quickened Hermean potential as she confers with her familiars to see what she knows about these subjects.
or ,
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Evelynda shares the details about the mantle and Ravros and his followers with the group.
Caravalle will add her knowledge to the mix.
The First Flame considers the information, tilting its massive head to one side in thought.
A dangerous/pitiable/terrible foe indeed, as might be anticipated, it 'says', the light of its thoughts cold and remote like a distant star, It seems we would be best served by seeking to swiftly acquire this mantle. We shall wish to be careful with our approach, for these Obliviax may well already be positioned to take advantage of any weaknesses/openings in the item's defenses/guardians that we create. We should gather what information/sights/words we may from the inhabitants quietly first, preferably without revealing ourselves.
Humor touches its thoughts, its starlight twinkling merrily. Unfortunately I am ill-suited to going unnoticed, even in my smallest form.
Evelynda purses her gigantic lips, taking in what The First Flame says and considering. "If they are unremarkable inhabitants, unable to easily see through magic, I could prepare invisibility for you. Or alternatively, I could cause you to appear to be any animal, even something as small as a mouse or thrush." She looks at the enormous bird seriously. "I, myself, prefer not being seen."
"I like being sneaky myself." she says with a smile as she drifts in and out of the shadows. You'll find that she has ways to evade even special senses.
"But I don't think sneaking is this group's overall style. Once they know where we are, I suspect it will running the gauntlet."
Its thought-light still falls like a laughing, twinkling star. No, stealth will be only a temporary/prerequisite measure for a group such as us. But if we can learn a little of the details of the situation, it will aid us.
The First Flame looks to Evelynda, its thoughts steadying to a steady glow. Invisibility should be sufficient for me, I would think. As soon as I use any of my magic/Radiance/Flame, any disguise would be compromised.
Sharletta shows Caravalle one of her drones. It appears as an absolutely miniscule spider and as you guessed it is only quasi real, mostly being made up of psychic energy. With Arinolus as our witness, I swear I will use these only for your benefit.
I am quite comfortable with infiltration, it was this forms purpose before... And worry not about our form, we know many find it fearsome, we have adapted for this. After a moment Sharletta's body begins to morph. Her upper elven-like body shows little change, besides the odd white markings covering it disappear. Her lower body though rapidly morphs into two slender humanoid legs, a skirt which had previously been propped up by her arachnid body now unfurls down to her knees covering bare form just on time.
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Bloodscream grins at the mention of what guards the Mantle. "Ah, there are Kaiju guardians, this is why I was summoned. What do we know of the forces arrayed against us? How many Kaiju guard this isle? Is there an actual army present as well? What are these 'remnant machines' you spoke of?"
"Oh, I have some tricks to help learn about a place quickly." she says with a grin. "You just need to listen everywhere all at once."
The First Flame dips its great head to Caravalle. The light of its thoughts is calm and steady, like the morning sun on a clear day. We shall want to bend all our powers of divination upon our task before we depart, I think. I have none such, however, beyond the sight of my eyes. Most likely we shall find that the most important answers are hidden from divinations... or our enemies would likely have broken through already.
Still, what divinations do we have? The outer defenses at least we should be able to investigate by such means. And perhaps what legends the locals may know of the place. Sometimes the 'ancients' hide clues for the future in such things.
There is a trace of wry humor to its use of 'ancients', acknowledging that it itself could well be counted as one.