Broken Sun - The Mandate of Anarchy (PG-13)

[strategiser24]

OOC: I'm trying not Godmod on this post, so thats why Tariq suffers during the post and collapses at the end. Say something if I still did.

Tariq the Archeops
Scarwell, Azmarax, Under Siege

Tariq! Take a flying battalion with explosive barrels, fly over the Abyss army, and drop the barrels on their heads, don’t die, Kraxel ordered Tariq.

Tariq listened and rallied what flying soldiers they had left and flew to the harbor. Dropping the barrels over the ships, they exploded on contact, sending soldiers and debris everywhere, but it seemed like they sunk more ships than they helped. From the sky, the Abyss's army seemed smaller than it was before, but by now, most of their army defenses were gone with them; time seemed like it was running out. "Do you have anymore ideas Seer?!" a Pidgeot asked, frantic.

Tariq spotted the large flying unit approaching the city, well armed for air attacks that could cause massive damage. "I might have one, but...well, I don't know if it'll just kill me, or if it'll even work," Tariq replied, looking down at the wall, spotting Kraxel right in the line of one of the airstrikes, Kraxel! Tariq yelled.

Tariq dived done without warning to intercept the attack dropped by a group of Skarmory, but the attack already hit the wall and crumbled it to pieces. Kraxel went flying and quickly was buried in the rubble. Tariq hit the ground, taking a hit to his left foot, while the rest of the group followed. "We can't hold the line!" a soldier shouted in distress.

Tariq hurried to move the stones burying Kraxel, luckily, he wasn't buried too far; he was still breathing, but seemed unconcious. Everything seemed to be happening quickly, hours seemed like minutes during the battle, and it looked like now was the final hour, for either them, or the Abyss. "Everyone! Abandon your posts!" Tariq ordered, "Fall back and defend the Palace! Now!!"

Tariq slung Kraxel over his shoulders and made a run for it with the rest of the army. Looking up, the Abyss's air units seemed more numerous, now, than their ground units; explosions and attacks dropped everywhere around them, destroying buildings, killing soldiers, and even civilians. After an eternal 5 minutes, Tariq and most of the Defense had reached the City Center and Palace. Tariq threw Kraxel on the marble floors of the Palace and motioned for soldiers to come over. "This was your brilliant plan Seer?!?" a soldier asked, fighting outside shaking the Palace.

"Just make sure Kraxel lives!" Tariq ordered, trying to keep them in line, "I still haven't even started yet!"

Tariq rushed outside to see the defense repelling the advancing Abyss army, but they were still suffering losses, and the Abyss had the upper hand now with their air units; hoping there was still hope, Tariq rushed down the steps and frantically dug into the bag over his shoulder, ignoring most of the supplies, he reached for the bottom and pulled out a large scroll, the same one he'd 'borrowed' from Mount Houan's library before he left. Laying it vertically on the remains of a podium, at the bottom of the Palace steps, Tariq quickly prayed that this would work. "Someone keep the Abyss off of me!" Tariq yelled.

"This isn't the time for reading!" one of the commanders yelled, "What are you doing?!?"

"...Finding new recruits," Tariq replied.

Opening the scroll, Tariq stared at the old paper; written, like most of what he'd already encountered, in the ancient language of the Unown, he began to read what was wirtten. The soldiers guarding him couldn't have any idea what he was saying, but saw the scroll he was reading begin to...glow...as the light emitted began to grow stronger. "...And crush my enemies," Tariq finally said out loud.

A strange light and thunder filled the sky, as the scroll continued to glow; Tariq went to his knees and kept his hands together as fatigue and pain shot through him. Out of nowhere, the Abyss air soldiers shrieked as the light slowly faded. Time itself seemed to stop as the bombardments stopped; the Defense was in shock as the siege seemed to suddenly stop, but the war cries and charges of the ground forces cut their hopes short. Realizing they'd let their defenses down, they hurried to get back in order, but the Abyss had taken the opportunity the overwhelm their barricades and set-ups. "Tariq!" a familiar voice yelled, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!?"

Tariq ignored Seryl's question as he continued to remain focused. The aAbyss air units shrieked again as they prepared to attack again. "EVERYONE! GET BACK!" the Duke yelled, now outside watching the Abyss overwhelm the square.

Soldiers rushed out of the Palace to see the Horde no further than a hundred yards from the Palace; hope escaped from everyone as they saw Tariq continue to...mediate...or pray...but their fading morale suddenly stopped as two explosions completely obliterated the group advancing to the Palace. "What the hell was that?!?" someone yelled.

The Defense army looked up; in complete awe, they watched as the AByss's flying army attacked their own allies on the ground. The Abyss's ground forces did not seem to be fazed, but the sheer number of the flying units began to kill more than they could move in to replace. "What on..." the Duke mumbled, glancing at Tariq, "Forget it! The AByss is losing their progress! Push forward!"

The Duke rallied the remaining army, thei morale now slightly renewed, and charged over the hills of dead bodies back towards the walls. I knew this would work! Tariq said to himself.

However, his joy was quickly broken by the increasing pain he was beginning to feel from everything the scroll was doing. He began sweating quickly as his heart rate picked up, making it difficult to keep balanced, even on his knees. The wound he'd sustained in his foot began to hurt even more as the pain was magnified from his fatigue. Feeling as though he was fading in and out of consciousness as the long minuted went by, he wondered: How much longer can he keep control over the air units?

_______________________________________

The corrupted Archeops scryed the battle in his mind, watching as the Abyss's air units turn on their own army. Shocked, he scryed around the Palace for an answer, and spotted Tariq, using an Abyssal Scroll, an item said to have been created by the Ancients to bind the Abyss to their will; the knowledge it contained would allow one to bind an Abyss minion, or minions, to their will, but at the cost of their own life energy. He's proven himself to have a strong will. Most without one would either be controlled themselves by the Abyss, or die trying, the Archeops said to himself, He knows he can't keep his grip on our soldiers for long...Perhaps I can help with that.

Using his mind to communicate with Tariq, he began to speak in a dreadful voice, You claim soldiers of the Abyss as your tools of war, but did you ever think that meddling with immortal affairs wouldn't claim YOUR life?

He could see Tariq was in pain and fatigued from keeping control of the soldiers. You have...no power...over me...Who...are you?...

Ha! You think I have no power over you, but I AM you!...I am Zashar, and I am your sins Tariq, and I know everything about you, including your order; the Irfan have no power over the Abyss, members of your order have tried the same thing as you did, to further their own goals, and now their souls serve the Abyss...As will you in time... Zashar replied, laughing.

Tariq's pain froze as he heard those words; it was his Fallen, but he had no idea what he meant by the Irfan having tried 'the same thing.' However, his pain quicly returned to him as he felt himself become cold, shivering in the hot sun of Scarwell; he was beginning to get hypothermia, and his heart rate was beginning to slow down. ...You will not win this war... Tariq muttered.

Tariq, with shaking hands, opened the scroll further. Reading the final part of the scroll, the scroll glowed once more, as he used his little remaining energy to kill the flying AByss soldiers he'd taken control of; by now, they must've have destroyed more than half of the horde after catching them off guard. Their shrieks could be heard from outside the city, as they crashed to the ground.

Tariq broke his focus and the glowing light soon stopped afterwards; he was quickly warmed by the sun, but collapsed where he was kneeling. Some of the soldiers left to watch the Palace hurried to Tariq's aid. Tariq felt his body return to normal slowly, as his fatigue caught up with him and caused him to fall asleep as they brought him back into the Palace. This is not over Tariq, you may have survived this battle, but you have not survived the war, Zashar said, withdrawing from his mind.

Tariq said nothing as the soldiers tended to his exhaustion and wounds.

 

[Necros]

Melanthios Malachi the Sableye
Sartaras, Victakan

Melanthios snickered as Syrat started throwing a hissy fit about the two of them, the Sableye Seer a lot more present than he looked. Plus he couldn’t help but cackle at a line that was so blatantly easy for him to take advantage of like that.

“Well, seeing ghosts is hardly surprising, after all, you’ve got one standing right here. WoOoOoOoOoOoH!” He wiggled his clawfingers mockingly as his eyes glowed, grinning at Syrat.

Then he turned his attention towards Jax, sensing the other’s efforts to hide his discomfort, also perking his ears up at the information that his Fallen was in the area too.

“Oh <dear>. That could prove problematic. If both of us were to engage the other’s Fallen, we would still be at a loss because their injuries would be inflicted upon our own bodies. It would be up to Syrat to <finish> things…” he said, trying not to spook the Pachirisu too much, but honestly, it could come down to them relying on the only non-Seer member of their group, and he wanted to make sure the little guy was up to the job at least.

And then the Doombringer Tank made its appearance. Melanthios took one look at it, broke into a wide smile, cackling as it trundled its way towards them. Oddly the moment matched perfectly when Jax laughed Zydrax, so the two Seers were rather eerily laughing in unison. Then Melanthios stopped, his face twisted into an expression of insane joy.

“<Good.>”

It might’ve seemed that Melanthios was unusually happy about all the danger surrounding them. It might’ve seemed that he was putting on a brave face, or a façade of indifference to the entire situation. Those that were aware of the different levels on which this game was being played might have surmised that Melanthios was genuinely unafraid or indifferent because they believed he could just retreat off the game board, call it a loss, and move on. But the truth was something far simpler.

Melanthios wanted things to get this bad. He almost craved it. After all, what kind of Magus of Misfortune would he be if he simply just avoided every threat by sneaking around it? No, he needed to get his heart beating and his blood pumping, figuratively speaking, if he was going to really show everyone what it meant to be able to withstand any misfortune this world threw at him.

“What’s thiiiiissss? You’d send a war machine to deal with me? Kyahahahahaha! How quaint! I remember seeing something like this in a museum!” he called out, both with his voice and mind, laden with disdain. His body was already moving, the Sableye streaking directly towards the Doombringer Tank, weaving his way through the torn up tarmac street as if he were made simply of smoke and mirrors. There was nothing illusory about the way he scraped a handful of jagged pieces of rubble from the ground, though. Nor were the blasts of energy he directed at the tank, the dark pulses ramming into each of the mounted cannons. Obviously he wasn’t expecting to damage them, but he was hoping that the force of the blasts would knock them off course. That would protect the other two from simply being blasted at while he engaged the attention of whatever force was directing the tank. And if he could get enough speed and energy up, he could phase through the outer shell of that corrupted metal and make the tank destroy itself from the inside. No doubt there were many gears and mechanisms that could be jammed and sabotaged. That was, of course, what the rubble was for.

Honestly, the idea of a large machine against a ghost of any sort was laughable. Sure, it might not be weak to fear and psychological trauma, but slipping through the cracks and wrecking the inner workings of the constructs of man was just what beings like Melanthios did. Every engine failure, every inexplicably broken part, every crucial failing of a weapon when it mattered the most…all of that could be blamed on a ‘ghost in the machine’. Melanthios was just fulfilling the role of that ghost.

“Kyehehehehehe! Eat thiiiiissss!” he cried, launching himself up as high as he could as the Doombringer Tank bore down on him. His body became slightly transparent and the air seemed to grow tense as the two forms were on the verge of colliding…

***​

“…He’s not going to make it.”

“Wanna bet~?”

***​

Melanthios wasn’t actually sure if he’d made it at first or not. The reason for this was as soon as he’d collided with the Doombringer Tank, his entire body exploded with a pain that felt strong enough to make him vomit if he let it. It was as if every nerve inside of him was being stimulated to receive pain and nothing else. He yelped and writhed and thrashed around, swearing rather impressively, churning out a number of complex, varied, and crafted insults as his teeth clenched tightly together. He retched a few times, his eyes tightly shut, honestly unable to perceive whether he was being crushed to death by the tank or if he’d been thrown into the Abyss and was being tortured. The bile kept rising to his throat, but he choked it down, forcing his mind and will to engage, to think and push through all of the pain. With a tremendous effort and extraordinary amounts of determination, he opened his eyes.

It was very, very dark. That was the first thing he noticed. Of course, being a Sableye, darkness was just one slight shade below daylight for him, and his eyes glowed brightly to compensate, penetrating into the shadows. This enabled him to see the second important thing of note: he was surrounded by vast amounts of machinery. There were gears and pistons and pulleys of all sorts, but in addition to them were fleshy, dripping black protrusions, ligaments, and vein like tubes of foul liquid, stretching on for as far as he could see. The third thing he noticed was the sheer amount of noise around him. A deep, resonating rumble was shaking the entire chamber he was in, followed by several more higher pitched clankings and whirrings ranging from tinny to almost squishy sounding.

“Ugggggggh…guess I’m in…” he moaned, trying to stand, clutching at his stomach, the pain still crackling over his body, the ache taking an incredibly deliberate amount of time to fade. He felt dizzy and light headed, and he had to brace himself against a sturdy metal cylinder in order to remain upright. Then he suddenly stiffened, grabbed onto it for dear life, went and pitched his head over the rim of it, and let out something foul and black that’s probably best left to the imagination.

“Yech. Hope it gunks up something important,” he shuddered, wiping at his mouth a little. That was probably going to be one of the last times he tried to jump through corrupted metal, if he could help it.

Fortunately for Melanthios, he had otherwise survived his reckless action relatively unscathed. The same could be said of his chosen instruments of sabotage, as the pieces of jagged tarmac and metal lay at his feet. Smirking to himself, he began gathering them up, looking for places to jam them into for maximum damage.

‘Hey Jax…I’m inside the tank. Think I’ll start breaking things. Tell me if you see anything happening I should know about outside. And if you can, once it’s down, try and burn a hole in its hide or something. I really don’t want to phase through that stuff again.’

And with that the Sableye began going about his work, finding gears grinding together and wedging a twisted hunk of metal between the notches, or actually going over to one of those tubes and biting it with his gemstone crushing teeth until it ruptured, sometimes even getting bold enough to start firing his own energy at bits of machinery that looked vulnerable. He was still in large amounts of pain, so the work was slow, but his determination was unwavering.

“Where’s the good old <self destruct> button when you really need it?” he cackled to himself, staring around the place, whistling while he worked.

***​

The Cathedral to Corruption was, to put it mildly, immense. Especially from ground level. Nevertheless, the masked Raichu standing before it seemed utterly indifferent. This was causing some consternation amongst the two Cohorts standing guard in front of the main doors, who did not like the look of this living Pokémon no matter who or what told them it was an ally of theirs.

“…your defenses are horrible. I’m sorry, but honestly, this is the best you can come up with? I know you were pressed for time and all, but logically this just doesn’t make sense. Were you Abyssal even trying?”

This elicited some growls and dark looks, but they were unable to do anything to the Raichu. The rules forbade it. And besides, they had a strange suspicion that the masked and cloaked rodent could easily take both of them down without breaking a sweat if it came to that.

“What you should have done was focused the bulk of your defenses here, made this place utterly impregnable to the living. In fact, you should’ve taken the three Brothers of Despair and moved them straight to the Abyss, where the Seers can’t reach them. That would’ve been checkmate right there. But no, you keep giving the other side the advantage. Do you think just because you have the superior numbers that you can win? That’s utterly naïve. Your victory conditions are actually much harder to fulfill than those of the Indigo Seers. Want to know why?”

It paused, as if expecting them to answer, but then continued before either of them had made up their minds one way or another.

“It’s because you don’t win until you’ve subjugated every single piece on the game board. You have to defeat every single member of the living or else it’s just a draw. So you have a prophecy that says you will win with ‘certainty’. What good is that? It doesn’t say how long it will take until you win. It doesn’t say what losses you will incur in order to win. It just says that you will win eventually. But that could be thousands of years from now for all you know. And in less than a fraction of a fraction of that time, the Indigo Seers can turn the entire game around and wipe out that prophecy. Understand~?”

“…We AgReE wItH yOu. We DoN’T UnDeRsTaNd oUr OrDeRs,” mumbled one of the Cohorts, who had actually been thinking thoughts of a similar nature. The other one hurriedly shushed him.

“Exactly. Just think about that for a while,” said the Raichu, smirking a bit under its mask. The Abyssal truly were a bunch of idiots. Either they were drunk on ambition and power without any brains to back it up, or they were just mindless grunts like these Cohorts. Even the Fallen were a joke, driven by their own personal goals or plots. The entire Abyss was just a big, unorganized mess. Any skilled player could defeat them. It was a testament to the Raichu’s Master that they hadn’t already been defeated.

Without acknowledging the guards any further, the masked Raichu barged its way past them, into the Cathedral of Corruption. It would wait for Melanthios there, as ordered. And it would destroy him this time.

Completely and utterly.

 

[Avenger Angel]

OOC: Your post is fine, strategiser. No worries.

Jax the Lopunny
Sartaras, Victakan

Mel... must have been insane to charge right after the Doombringer. Either that, or he had nothing to lose, which was another viable possibility. But in the meantime, the Scourge and the Cohorts of Chaos came upon Syrat and I. Syrat readied one of the knives I had dropped earlier, while I decided to resort to the short sword. I was going to need for them to keep their distance. Five of them at once while Mel was busy handling the tank was a whole other issue.

AVARICE ISN'T GOING TO DO YOU ANY FAVORS, JAX.

Zydrax was becoming more annoying than threatening. But I could sense he was only a short distance away, and truthfully, I didn't even want to look at him. At that moment, one of the Scourge, a deranged and rabid-looking Breloom didn't even wait until he fully came into my view before striking.

His attack, however, was pre-emptive, initially hard to dodge and evade, but I found with his arm outstretched and his jagged weapon thrust forward, I had plenty of open area to strike him with the sword. Making a quick selection, I went for his neck, and with a quick swipe, his head rolled off his neck, and his headless body stumbled over and collapsed. Still, I was only sending him back to the Abyss to regroup. But it was satisfying, nonetheless.

"Naahhhh!!!" Syrat shouted as a battle cry, jumping on the back of a Scourge Machoke and stabbing him again and again in his jugular vein, spraying black blood everywhere.

The muscular Pokémon tried to grab the squirrel, but he couldn't reach him in time, and Syrat evaded the creature's hands with deft evasiveness and tricky to predict spidery-like movements. It wasn't long until the Machoke fell to his knees, blood all over his chest and back as his head was barely able to stay attached to his neck, held on mostly because of the dagger's inability to tear through the spinal column. Syrat, saturated with black blood, leapt off the dying Machoke, once again coming to my side.

"Never knew you had it in you, Syrat," I told him, finding his combat skills seemingly improving dramatically.

But then, out of the corner, I had been attacked by a Weavile, one of the Cohorts of Chaos. Turning around at that last moment saved me from a lethal blow to the neck, but I took it to the shoulder instead, and I could feel the sting of pain as the claws lacerated their way through my fur and skin.

"I fINd YoUR pAIN oRGaSMiC!!!" The Weavile screamed with shrill, unholy laughter. "LooK aT tHE rIVeR oF BlOOd! SloWLY dYiNG! SLowLY dyING!!!"

Unfortunately, the short sword was too large to get a sufficient strike on the Weavile with him being in such close proximity. His movements were also very evasive, and after taking two swings and hitting nothing but air, I held back. A losing strategy was not worth pursuing until I got lucky. But, I tried to pretend the short sword was the only weapon I had. Right now, the Weavile, in his hubris, believed I was at a disadvantage.

"Like it, eh?" I asked him, taking a glance at the bleeding gash. "It'll scar well, I'm sure. I've had worse, you little prick. Come on, hurt me more! I've been waiting for this pain!"

He smiled with his blackened, infernal grin. He lunged at me again, jumping from a pile of rubble, reading his claws to burrow into my neck. He knew the short sword wouldn't be enough to stop him, but the dagger I slipped into my other paw would. The one he never saw.

"HHHAAAAA!!!" He screamed with sadistic, blood-drunk delight.

And then I quickly threw the dagger, whose journey ended in the Weavile's mouth, lodged in his throat while the Weavile's teeth clamped down on the hilt of the blade. Suddenly, his vigor had gone weak, but at his body sailed through the air, I crouched and slashed at the Weavile's body, horizontally dissecting him in midair.

Moving out of the way, his body crashed into a pile of twisted metal, which lacerated and impaled his face. The amusing thing was... he wasn't even fully dead yet, but in his maniac jittering, he was losing massive amounts of black blood.

A Garchomp Scourge had tried to avenge his fallen comrade, but I hadn't overlooked him either. Unlike the Cohorts, the Scourge were not as battle-skilled. Since my blade had been busy gutting the Weavile, I used my foot to strike the Garchomp in the stomach, causing him to stumble backward. He struck at me with one of his claws after he recovered, a rapid attack that lacerated my arm. However, I quickly drove the sword into his neck and while I couldn't decapitate him as easily as the Breloom, I twisted the blade around and tried to tear through as many veins and nerves as I could. However, in the process, I had broken the sword, but did a significant amount of damage to the abomination's neck. Black blood was gushing and squirting out all over himself, and like a fool, he grabbed the broken edge of the sword and ripped it out, causing even more bleeding.

I had no weapons left now, but the Garchomp was growing weaker, his eyes becoming lifeless as no blood was reaching the creature's brain. He tried to attack me in one last lunge, but another fierce kick to the chest sent him head over heels onto the ground, where he simply couldn't find the energy to get back up.

Meanwhile, Syrat had impaled and severely lacerated the last of the Cohorts, a Raticate that had managed to cut and bite Syrat in a few places, but in the end, the electric squirrel proved victorious against his fellow rodent. Before long, the Cohort Raticate slumped over, stabbed a tremendous amount of times in the face, chest, and back.

"That..." Syrat winced, trying to fight off the stinging pain. "That... the last of 'em?"

"Far from it..." I told him, knowing Zydrax and many other Abyss soldiers were still out there, just waiting for us.

Meanwhile, Zydrax didn't seem the least bit worried. And he knew... somehow he knew I just couldn't even bring myself to look at him. The defenses here were minimal, but it seemed there was a reason for that. The Abyss had sent out its legions to occupy as much ground as they could. They realized the Indigo Seers were a threat only later on, but I could tell, they thought the assassins and our own personal Fallen would be enough. It caused Mel and I to flounder in the presence of them. And sending Syrat after Zydrax would likely only send the inexperienced squirrel to an early grave.

Hey Jax…I’m inside the tank. Think I’ll start breaking things. Tell me if you see anything happening I should know about outside. And if you can, once it’s down, try and burn a hole in its hide or something. I really don’t want to phase through that stuff again.

I sensed the surrounding area, and without a doubt, Zydrax was there, watching the whole spectacle like all levels of achievable victory weren't going to matter. There were others, more Scourge and more Cohorts. Never did I think simply crossing the street would be such a trial.

"MURDER HIM NOW, AND I'LL PAY HIM A VISIT IN THE UNDERWORLD. THERE, WE WILL CREATE A GRAND FORSAKEN."

Or so he thought. In the meantime, the Doombringer was experiencing internal dismay, its two drivers having no idea why the tank was suddenly malfunctioning as Mel continued to sabotage its vital mechanical parts.

Zydrax... my Fallen, is out there with you. I can make a strike against the tank, but against him...

I didn't want to admit I couldn't handle it, but it was the truth. All of a sudden, the Doombringer came grinding to a halt, its infernal engine block far too dismantled to continue. However, its weaponry was still operational. What had been a tank now turned into a turret. No longer mobile, but still dangerous. I had one chance to pull this off, and if I didn't, it was likely going to reduce me to pieces.

I noted that the tank had not been prepared, and its crew was in shock at the disabling of the vehicle. I took that into account and dashed toward the tank, preparing a furious Fire Punch attack to strike at its vulnerable side. In a panic, one of the gunners fired a tank round at me, and it just barely missed by inches as I could feel the wind and the heat sear my fur and skin. A little more to the right, and I would have been gored to oblivion.

There was no chance of him getting in another shot. Behind me, the shell exploded, causing an already dilapidated building to fully crumble to the ground. But as the dust and smoke surrounded us, I struck my fist into the tank, smashing a hole open with a powerful Fire Punch. My fist ached, but I still found the strength and adrenaline to rip open the metal, and expose the helpless crew inside.

"Eragh, kill 'em all!" Syrat shouted, sending in a furious Thunderbolt into the cabin of the tank.

The crew inside was spared no mercy, electricity surging through their bodies until even their brains melted into goo and oozed out of their nose and ears. In the meantime, the tank was reduced to nothing more than a massive piece of deadweight metal.

Aching all over, I stepped away from the tank, not feeling up for another fight. But it was then that I had laid eyes on Zydrax, my Fallen, only a few hundred feet down the street, with a squad of Cohorts and Scourge behind him.

Nooo, damn it, not him!!!

I felt weak in the knees, and my heart and stomach twisted up in a knot as I beheld Zydrax, the source of all my darkness. Guilt, it seemed, was still a powerful poison inside me. I couldn't even bring myself to lift an improvised weapon against him. But really... could I really depend on Syrat to attack him? A civilian against a Fallen!?

"YoU LOoK PaTHeTIC, JaX!" Zydrax laughed, pointing at me in ridicule. "YoU KnoW, AS AppEaLinG aS iT ORiGiNaLLY soUNdeD, I ChaNGeD mY MiND aBoUT beComINg a FoRsaKeN wItH yOU. I DeSerVe BettER tHAn tO bE stUCK wItH a LowLY CarCaSS LikE yOU!"

"Condescending maggot," I muttered, feeling too weak in the heart to stand up straight.

I tried to rise above it, but it was proving difficult. I either had to find a way to fight, or get the hell out of here. And right now, both of those options seemed miles away from my grasp...

 

[Agent Tectonic]

So, R.I., I took the liberty of expecting Seng to arrive and continued it a bit after our meeting as I doubted there would be anything else that would hinder our meeting into two posts from you.

Zix Dragontamer: Typhlosion
Synata Desert → Esteran Rainforest

I thank you for your reply. I will hide in the rainforest, stalling the toxic plague as much as I can without revealing myself or my presence. When you near the edge, please contact me, and I will find you. I pray your travels bode well.

It pleased me to hear that this female Seer was still alive although there was a hint of some kind of anxiety within the message, but I could have been fooling myself. Regardless, the flight was going to take a few hours, so after surveying the area and path of flight for any enemies, I took a quick nap.

Not even in sleep would I find solace though. A shadow that wasn't natural skirted across my subconscious. Once, I was able to pin it within my eyesight – a decision regrettable. A ripple of an indescribable evil, hate, and despair washed over me. Waking was impossible, my breath began ragged heaves, a cold sweat enveloped my body. I didn't need to guess what it was any more: my Fallen. Just before it left, a grin to wide on any possible face I could picture broke through the shadowy veil before departing from my nightmare.

Awaking as if from an exorcism, I glanced around my surroundings. Dawn was on the brink of rising and the desert was below us with the rainforest quickly coming into view. Braze had shot me a few worried glances, but I merely smiled back in return as we started descending. In the meantime, a cast a projection of the world before me in efforts to comfort my fears of Scarwell. A slight fear gripped me as I saw the aerial view of Scarwell. The battle was shifted slightly to the defenders, but the cost of it was more than I had expected. I cycled my view to find Blitz along with the other generals to find that Gruef was the only one to have fallen from the Scourge. A swung my attention to Kraxel and Tariq to find them inside the palace nursing the former back conscious, but Tariq looked like he had seen better. I end my scrying as we had touched ground on the desert. Braze gasped a sigh of relief, as the desert heat must have affected him more than me. He ventured a slight ways into the forest to quench his thirst as I sat under the base of a towering tree and slipped into finding this female Seer.

Alright, we have touched base at the edge of the rainforest. I am accompanied by an Altaria and we are currently, I projected a map of the world again with my position on it, on the outskirts of the rainforest. I'll be making my way to the denser part of it shortly, though alone. I doubt my Altaria transport will be able to fit into such quarters. See you within the hour. Mmm, and I don't think I've got your name yet milady. I added in a playful manner at the end.

Braze had returned from his search looking much more rejuvenated. Unfortunately, he couldn't continue with me, but I knew I might need him for transport out of here. I told this to him, and gratefully, he agreed with my suspicion as he told me that he wasn't a tree mon anyways and preferred his more suitable range of mountains. So, with a quick good-bye and giving him one of my rings with a message enchanting so I could contact him again, I ventured into the forest, watching my step and scrying for traps and enemies. It was taxing to say the least, but I handled it well enough. Luckily, the Abyss hadn't very many around and most patrols were closer to were miles behind me or far into the rainforest. In about thirty minutes time, I noticed the trees becoming much more exotic and closer together along with the humidity taking a huge spike of an increase.

Deeming my spot a suitable place to wait for my soon to be Seer companion, I propped myself up against atop of a low-laying branch and balanced myself against the trunk of the tree and the branch beneath and meditated. I needed more practice with my Seer powers and began stretching my understanding of them: slight levitation, touching the minds of others, stuff like that. I accidentally delved to far into one mind and was greeted with an extreme amount of grief of lost loved ones; I opened my eyes and found a Grovyle, dressed in a black garb and silver bands on her wrists and ankles, drawing closer to me and mused that I must have entered hers. I also realized that this must have been my Seer friend that I was to meet and quickly felt embarrassed and said that, “Oh, that must have been you I felt. Sorry if I prodded to far into your mind. I've been trying to better my Seer abilities. However, I'm glad to officially meet you Miss. . .?”

I studied the Grovyle in front of me. Her body was quite gaunt, but I knew right off that it was a ruse to fool others as her muscles were quite honed for quick movements. What through me off were her eyes, an odd silver color, that brought more mystery to her though beneath them I saw the grief I felt earlier. She hid it well, but when your past self studied the personality of others, it was with an expert eye that I saw this emotion behind those prideful eyes. Also, when one has seen the grief of close loved ones die, on two separate occasions, it seemed to easy to see it in others. I started developing a sense of respect for this individual; it wasn't often that I see someone whose endured so much and look unbroken these days.

 

[Flash Sport]

OOC: Because I’m a bit impatient, I’m gonna go ahead and move along. A tiny bit of graphicness ensues…

Liechi the Whimsicott
Dysan, Kanat

“My beautiful boxes!”

Liechi watched as Doctor Dyne cried and fussed over his contraption, actually appearing close to tears while Salut stood aside. Never mind the state of the grungy whimsicott who brought it to him. She winced at his loud whine as it sent a sharp pain through her head. Maybe it would have done her good to be deaf a little while longer. The three of them were in his study in order to block out the noisy celebration on the other side. As Liechi had suspected, many knickknacks and gizmos covered his walls and cluttered his floors. Even his door was an odd case, a thick metallic obstruction that hummed mechanically. When she inquired about it, he informed her that it was Walker-Through Stopper; a door built to keep out Pokémon and any other creature that could walk or float through walls. Obviously, privacy was top priority. Not many, if anyone were allowed in the room aside from him and Salut. The whimsicott supposed he had come to like her well enough to allow her entry.

The corners of Liechi’s mouth twitched painfully in a very weak apologetic expression as she eyed the punctured box stained with blood. “I tried not to let them get beat up too bad, but that’s kind of hard when under attack.” It was more or less the truth and she wasn’t referring just to that battle with the mandibuzz either. Even after the massive explosion, the battle wasn’t over. The Scourge, who were out of range of the explosion, swooped in fast. They struck hard at the dazed and deaf rebels, picking them off easily. If it weren’t for that mismagius, she and others most likely would’ve died. After meeting up with Gaius, she asked the gabite to keep an eye out for the ghost Pokémon and to not be alarmed at his appearance, adding that the stranger was an Indigo Seer like her.

Doctor Dyne made a dismissive gesture and Liechi quieted. Without anyone talking, excited whoops and other varying cheerful sounds permeated the strange door to the doctor’s study. The rebels were celebrating big time and rightfully so. They managed to take their home back, but the war was not over. Far from it in fact, and Liechi sighed dejectedly at the thought. She would undoubtedly end up in even more battles like the ones she was in today. Weariness swooped in and Liechi closed her eyes while rubbing her head. Spotting this, Salut hurried over and checked on her.

Though the doctor was still put off by the extensive damage done to his precious invention, puzzlement had grasped him as he closely eyed the hole. “That’s strange. It seems there’s blood coming from the inside.”

“It’s from the fearow,” Liechi told him. “Its entire beak was covered in blood.”

The psyduck shook his head, the muscles between his eyes knitted in response to his increasing confusion. “No…that’s definitely coming from the inside.” Liechi sunk to the floor with Salut’s help as the doctor went to his desk, rifling through it for something she really didn’t care to know about. She just wanted to feel better and to have a nice bath. Her ailment gradually abated thanks to the audino’s healing pulse, but a good long rest is what she really needed. The clink of metal against metal drew their attention and Liechi watched Doctor Dyne return to the pierced box with a ring of keys. “I hope the locking mechanism still works.”

Liechi watched the doctor flip the box to find the key slot. Curiosity was slightly gnawing at her since the first two boxes held machinery tools and actual weapons that were many times the size of the container. She also came to find out that he called the boxes the Dwindling Material Centurial Receptacles. The locking mechanism turned out to be a little stubborn and took several grunted turns to finally unlatch. It failed to open in a lotus like manner like the other ones, leaving the doctor to manually pry the item apart. Halfway open, two things occurred. Firstly, Doctor Dyne cursed harshly and snatched off his clunky eyepiece, which he carelessly threw to the floor. Secondly, something must’ve clicked inside the item for the box threw itself open, disgorging a brilliant, bluish white light. If it were functioning normally, the box would have automatically opened and spread itself flat, revealing vitreous cubes that held diminutive items like ships in glass bottles. A simple press on one of the cubes would release the object in a single bolt of light to its full size. That was not the case for this particular box. Instead it randomly shot bolts around the room, hitting surfaces like lightning.

Liechi and Salut shielded their eyes and covered their heads as the blinding flash continued. Seconds later it ended. Her heavy breathing allowed her to get a large whiff of putridity that was so strong it made her stomach heave. At Salut’s shocked gasp and Doctor Dyne’s unrelenting curses, she opened her eyes. The thrill of victory disappeared completely. Liechi couldn’t stop the bile from rising and splattering onto the doctor’s workroom floor. She coughed mightily as the acid burned her throat and soured her mouth.

“Those bastards…those ignorant bastards!” All the doctor could do was shout, much too stunned to do anything else. “Idiots! Morons! These boxes weren’t made for this! They weren’t made to hold and protect Pokemon!” Liechi rubbed a paw across her mouth, willing herself to get under control, but her mind was shutting down. Pokémon. Dead. Some emaciated. Others eviscerated. The smell was overwhelming and suffocating. She couldn’t breath. She needed air—now! On her heels was Salut, most likely needing air as well and both bolted out of the room into the hall. Salut stopped just outside her father’s door, but Liechi didn’t. The grass Pokémon hurried through the corridors as though being chased and the first vent she found, she crawled into and hid.

That was the box she used to defend herself against the fearow. She considered cutting the straps many times over. She should have left the boxes in the tower. Then they would have never known…would never have seen…

Liechi sobbed into her knees.

She did it again. She got someone killed again. And not just a few, but many. Were there families inside? Babies? What had she done?

As Liechi wallowed in the pall of her despair, elsewhere, someone else smiled and chuckled at her sudden increase in strength.

-----

By the time she had emerged from hiding, the bodies had long been inspected and disposed of. Only three Pokémon survived inside that container and were taken to the makeshift infirmary in the bunker where they were recovering nicely. Dysan recovery efforts were moving along nicely. Time had flitted by in a blur and the Battle of Dysan had become nothing more than a sobering memory once the rebels discovered the cause of the stench that wafted from the doctor’s office. Currently, she stood outside that very door. Doctor Dyne had requested her presence an hour or so ago and that’s exactly how long she lingered outside his office. The door was closed and Liechi was too scared to even think about knocking, afraid that she would glimpse the bodies that once carpeted the floor despite having been told they have been removed and cremated. She supposed she could look on the bright side; she didn’t have to worry about what karma held for her in the future because it already struck.

Its messenger was Monty. Salut told her he stumbled into the bunker, gripping an enormous wound on his side that bled profusely, asking for Liechi. He persisted in asking for the whimsicott who, as they tried to tell him, was not in the best of health until finally he collapsed from blood loss. Salut said that before he passed out, he became delirious and kept repeating, “How could he do this? We were best friends.” The audino spoke cautiously at that point and tried to make her feel better by saying that she highly doubted that Nelt would attack Montezu. However, Liechi knew better. She knew the moment when she saw her brother what had happened. It was just a matter of when he would end up succumbing to the dark poison. A part of her hoped that he was strong enough to overcome it, that he would win out against the damage done to his soul, but he couldn’t. No one could withstand the after effects of a soul-wounding blow by a cohort. No one…except those in Utopia who also possessed the power to mend a wounded soul.

The hum of the door drew Liechi from her thoughts and it opened to reveal the scowling Doctor Dyne. “I was beginning to think you ran away.” Liechi didn’t respond. At least he seemed to have recovered from the shock. He swung the door open a little further. “Come in.” Silently, she entered and the doctor closed the door behind her. Liechi’s taut chest loosened as she exhaled in relief. No bodies. Doctor Dyne waddled past her, motioning for her to follow him to his desk, which had been organized and cleaned up. Liechi stood by as he seated himself on a short stool. The two stared at each other, the doctor’s expressionless face examining her weary one. “Do you have the right to live?”

The unexpected question brought some life back to Liechi as her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “S-Sir?”

“That’s what you’re asking yourself isn’t it? ‘Do I have the right to live?’ Do you think you should die?”

Liechi looked down, not really feeling much of anything. “Yes, sir.”

“Why? Because a few innocents got caught in the crossfire?” Liechi bit her lip. She couldn’t tell him…she couldn’t tell him that she used that box as a shield. If she hadn’t then more of those Pokémon could still have been alive. What would her family think of her if they ever found out? There was a soft clink and Liechi lifted her head to see the doctor holding out a thin, cylindrical shaft, but the blade was missing. The doctor pressed his thumb against a button she could not see and out shot a silver blade. It appeared to be about three feet in length and was made to be a stabbing tool, evident by the weapon’s smooth, conical shape, which tapered to a fine point. He purposefully sat it on the edge of his desk and said nothing. He really couldn’t be serious could he? When she failed to move after a long while, he spoke. “Stuck in a limbo aren’t you? Too afraid to live and too afraid to die. A maddening predicament isn’t it?” Liechi’s eyes were downcast again.

“You know,” he started, sounding a little less grave as he eyed his inventions. “There are laws in science and a particular one about motion comes to mind. To every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction. However, it can apply to life. There will always be consequences with any decisions you or any of us make. The risks were steep in taking back Dysan. Lives were going to be lost. It’s an inevitability in war. Despite that, they still went. You still went. The larger the risk, the larger the consequences. The bigger the battle, the more lives that will be lost. Even those who do not participate are not safe. They think that their level of involvement dictates their chances of survival. Granted, in some cases it may, but the fact of the matter remains that everyone is equally susceptible to dying, especially in times such as these. There is a chance hiding can increase the chances of survivability, or make them this.” He motioned to himself. It took Liechi a moment to get what he was alluding to and exploded with laughter once she figured it out. Laughter felt like cool water after a long trek through the desert. It never felt so good.

Doctor Dyne waited until she calmed down, the hint of a smile on his face. “Feeling sorry for yourself will not help in any way, Liechi, and your death will not stop this war. It’d merely make the Abyss excited to know that there is one less Seer they have to worry about.” The duck slid from his stool and onto his feet. “War never is and never will be easy and the future most likely holds even more gruesome things in wait for you, for Gaius, for Pokémon worldwide. Some of these things you can prepare yourself for while other you cannot, but you cannot give up. There is no rest for the weary anymore. Only the dead are granted eternal rest, but even now that is threatened. To truly immerse yourself in this war and strive for victory, you will have to steel yourself against the unspeakable and maintain a clear mind in any situation. Do you understand?”

Liechi nodded, feeling a bit more rejuvenated. “Yes sir, I understand. I won’t quit. I won’t give up. Everyone is counting on the Seers to come through, which includes me. I won’t lie and say that I’ll never become depressed again or will be able to effectively handle what comes my way, but,” She balled her paw into a fist and smiled determinedly at him. Her energy was slowly returning, amassing into the relentless spirit that defined her. “I promise you, I won’t give up. I will help to stop the Abyss. The Indigo Seers and Talandra will be victorious!”

Doctor Dyne nodded before searching his desk. “Good…now that I’ve got you out of your pity hole, you can return the favor.”

“Say what?” Liechi’s mouth parted slightly in disbelief.

“That lecture took a lot of my time. Not to mention you used my box as a shield.” Liechi’s mouth flapped wordlessly as he eyed her. “I know things.” The whimsicott’s shoulder drooped.

“He did have a point. Not to mention he did help a lot in taking back Dysan.” Aloud she asked him, “What is it you needed me to do?”

“I need you to pay a visit to the Darkane Mountains for me, specifically Houan Peak if it’s still there.”

“Darkane Mountains?” She remembered the cluster of mountains from her geography lessons. It lied on the southeastern portion of the Victakan-Azmarax landmass. The area was beautiful with some of the highest peaked mountains Talandra had to offer, but rugged and treacherous for novice adventurers. Even the winds coming off and through the mountain were dangerous. Or so she read. “That’s all the way on the other side of the map! Why there?”

“Because I need something that can handle powering my latest creations.” He moved away from his desk after having removed the ring of keys from one of the drawers. She followed him to another door that he unlocked and opened to a tunnel. After securing the door behind him, Doctor Dyne waddled down the narrow tunnel with Liechi following close behind. The corridor was dim, but the doctor’s light makers gave enough light for them to see by. The tunnel turned out to be a winding one, with so many rises and dips that Liechi wasn’t sure if they were heading towards the surface or deeper into the ground. “Can you tell me,” the doctor began, his voice echoing ahead of and behind them. “what Houan Peak and the surrounding mountains are known for?”

“You sound like my obnoxious teacher,” Liechi said, her tittering bouncing loudly off the walls. “The area’s known to produce a variety of stones. Houan Peak supplies Talandra with some of the most beautiful gems and rare minerals than any other known area. Evolutionary stones are also included.” She stared at the back of Dyne’s head. “So you want some of the stones to provide energy for your inventions.”

“Bingo kiddo. The gems those mountains produce are three times stronger than ordinary boosts like that item called miracle seed.”

Liechi inflated her cheeks in offensive. The miracle seeds were a well loved commodity in Lakeville. “Do you think residents of Houan, if they’re still alive, will be willing to spare gems? From what I’ve read and heard, they aren’t exactly the most friendly bunch.”

“You’re living atop a goldmine of power and the world knows it. Think about it for a moment.”

“Good point.”

“But there’s no need to worry your fluffy head. I have a colleague there who’ll be more than willing to help out.” They finally reached a small door, which he unlocked and pushed open. Liechi went through the door and emerged into an expansive room. She didn’t know how expansive until she hopped onto the railing of the elevated platform onto which the door led and looked down. Machinery nearly covered the entirety of the floor with clear paths weaving in and out like a maze.

“An engineering facility?” she questioned as she followed him down the stairs to the main floor. She kept close to him, so as not to get lost within the mountains of machinery.

“This is the place afforded to me by Dysan before I got demoted to mad scientist. It’s my personal playground.” The last part he said with such strange enthusiasm that it made him sound like a young one. Before long they reached a lengthy sheet of metal, which was really five panels set close together. Setting a webbed paw atop a knob, Dyne looked at Liechi. “Ready to meet my children?” A single nod prompted him to press the button. Gears whirred mightily as hidden lifts pulled the metallic panels upwards. Setting back into a skillfully carved recess were five mechanisms ranging from something like a hulking block to a lithely, small contraption. The largest one appeared to be about eight feet tall and extremely heavy. The thing that stood out about their shape the most was that each of the five mechanisms seemed to vaguely correspond with a legendary Pokémon. Liechi wondered if that was blasphemous.

“Now that…is-like-the-most-awesome-thing-I-have-ever-seen!” the whimsicott excitedly said as she bounded over to the machines, examining them. She didn't know much about how to build things like robots and watches, but she knew when something looked cool.

“I’m glad you like them because they’re going to be accompanying you to Houan Peak.” Liechi stumbled. “Since there’s a distinct possibility that you may not make it back, I want you to take these with you. They’ve never seen the light of day and have lived only for five minutes at the longest. I want them to be able to go out and see the world.” She was tempted to ask him if he knew he was talking about a bunch of tin cans, but didn’t feel like getting cursed at. He handed her a small stack of booklets. “Here are their biographies. Read and study them while you’re on your way so you’ll know what makes them happy.”

“Uh…thanks…I guess.” Liechi looked up at the machines. “But how am I supposed to get all of them there?” As if he was waiting for that question, Doctor Dyne lifted a single black box by a strap. It was slightly smaller than the three she managed to rescue from the tower, and appeared to have been built with much more care. “The black boxes are the Dwindling Heavy Material Receptacles. These are capable of holding items over nine hundred pounds. The box may not feel like much now, but it’ll be weighty once the machines are in it.”

Liechi took the box he handed to her. She really didn’t want to travel all the way to Houan. It meant that she’d end up even further away from home, but she did say she wouldn’t give up. She did promise to defeat the Abyss and make up for the pain she caused and the lives she sacrificed in cowardice. Unfortunately, that also meant she wouldn’t be able to search for her brother like she wanted. “When do you want me to leave?”

“Right now.”

 

[Tasslehoff]

Kraxel the Bisharp
Scarwell, Azmarax, gaining the foothold

A stroke of consciousness finally hit me, I opened my eyes and at first, saw nothing but the hazy form of a doctor standing above me and lights.

“Where… am I?” I inquired the mon.

“You are in a make-shift hospital wing inside the palace, your friend Tariq carried you here, we were starting to lose the battle until he did some kind of “magical trick” and the flying Abyssal military turned on their ground forces, quite enchanting sight to watch I might say so myself.”

Finally starting to gain my focus, I propped myself up on the bed that I was rested on and took in my surroundings, multiple beds were in the room, most filled with injured or dead mons. The doctor, noticing my movements, chided me for propping myself up.

“Get down, you aren’t well enough to—”

“I AM FINE!” I shouted at him.

Standing up, a sharp pain shot through my shoulder, “Doctor, is my shoulder dislocated?”

“Perhaps, I haven’t had time yet to fully check you out, I noticed some scrapes on your metal plating, but I didn’t do a full body check, here hold on.”

The doctor walked over to me and told me to do some exercises that required moving my arm, struggling to even raise it over my head, the doctor said that was enough.

“Here lay down real quick.”

Already knowing what was going to happen, I layed down and waited for the jolting pain of my shoulder being forced back into socket. He pushed his leg as hard as he could into my arm pit and I felt the pain of it popping in and winced from it.

“Thank you doc, now I will be on my way.”

“Kraxel you should be—”

Cutting him off a gain, I calmly stated, “there is a war out there, I am not going to coward in here just because of my shoulder.”

Dashing outside to the battlefield, I noticed Tariq lying on the ground with soldiers around him, noticing that there were people around him, I paid him no heed and knew that help would be given to him. Turning forward, I was surprised that the Abyss was fleeing back to the inner part of the city and that we were pursuing on their tail.

Taking a squad of the soldiers that stayed behind, we made a break for the market place, I wanted at least most parts of the city reclaimed that we had let fallen. Encountering some resistance, we slew them with no trouble for they were surprised to see us, not the other way around. Opening my mind to the other soldiers inside the city, I sent them all a telepathic message.

Everyone this is Kraxel, one of the seers here in Scarwell, the Abyss is trying to regroup most likely, not flee; they are fighters, not cowards. Take a square or some place in the city, set up traps, and let them come to you, we will win this battle.

“Kraxel,” one of the soldiers said breaking the concentration, “we’re here at the marketplace.”

“Set up traps on the ground, and scavenge any weapons you can and get on the roof tops, any living we find will serve as ground fighters.”

My squad was the size of about thirtyish by the time we reached the market place, I had twenty on the rooftops providing sniper support and the ten on the ground were to use attacks or just slow down the Abyss while the snipers picked them off.

“Kraxel, did you forget about me? Thanks to your retreat, your hope is little to nothing, and thanks to one of my friends and Sartaras, I have acquired four pretty little tanks to accompany me on the journey to here.”

“I still haven’t learned your name yet, fallen.” I said, trying to act as calm as possible.

“Zoroki, King of Minacen, fallen to the ambitious Kraxel, kyahaha!”

“Well then, Zoroki, come and get me.”

“O do not worry about that Kraxel, we already have.”

Recommend Listening to This

The sound of the street getting tore up around us filled the evening sky. All of fell to our knees covering our ears trying to block out the horrific sound, it was as if hundreds of people were being torn open and the only thing they could do were scream. Some of us, finally recovering from the sound, rallied our men and prepared for battle.

On all four corners, tanks appeared; massive, metallic wagons, at least two stories high, made of corrupt, black metal with thorns and sickle blades surrounding it, all blood-splattered, a massive, burning cannon was out in front, with two smaller cannons mounted on its sides, with white bone-crushing treads moving the abominable mechanism along.

“Tell me Kraxel, do you honestly believe that you can hope to defeat the Doombringer, one of the Abyss’s prize weapons of ground warfare?”

“It’s worth a shot you maggot.”

“Does your confidence run as deep as to even fight your fallen too? Kyahhaha!”

Just then, my blood turned cold, not trying to let it distract me though, I readied my weapons and prepared for the battle, “EVERYONE, ATTACK THE TANKS!”

I hopped off the roof I was on and dove into a roll to break the fall. Running to the nearest tank, I drove my blades and axed-head as hard as I could into it, leaving metallic wounds on the side on the tank.

The drivers, turning the two machine guns in my direction, started to fire at me and the building behind me. I dropped into a prone position and crawled towards the tank to dodge the guns, relieved that they couldn’t fire down; I climbed onto the ledge with one of the machine guns and slashed at the electrical engineering of the turret. After a few minutes of slashing through the metal and finally hit the electric cords, the turret powered down. Looking back up, I saw the canister of a Doombringer across the street targeted at me. Ironically, to fire at me would also hurt this tank; not wanting to ponder on the idiocracy of it, I ran across the ledge I was on and hopped off the back side of the tank. I heard the sound of the canister shell being launched and an intense heat filled the square, the smoke filled my lungs and I was finding it difficult to breathe, each breath became toxic.

Now, the other machine gun was locked onto me and I turned my body so I was back behind the tank, starting to climb up, I was searching for air that wasn’t poisoned by smoke, climbing up onto the other ledge of the tank, I found it was not great, but the air was at least fairly cleaner than the other side of the tank. Running up towards the next turret, I drove my blade through the barrel, front flipped, and twisted the barrel upward, disabling it to fire safely without an explosion.

Wiping the sweat that had formed on me, I looked around at the market place and realized that only one tank so far had been completely disabled and that ten of the thirty men I commanded laid dead on the ground in a twisted look on their face between horror and a scream. I climbed to the top of the tank and found the hatch that led inside, lifting up the heavy metal, I dropped down to the two surprised Abyss soldiers. The command room of the Doombringer tanks were actually quite large, almost the size of a bed room. The two Scourges stood up quickly, I dashed to once before it was able to draw its weapon that way the odds here were at least a bit more “fair”. Turning to the other and just shaking my head at his disadvantage, I waited for the typical mistake that these untrained soldiers did, they were like men drafted to the Army, and they were always expendables. He came rushing at me and with a quicker reflex than him; I shot my hand out and broke the hand that was wielding the jagged sword. Putting him next into a chicken wing, I lifted his arm far enough waiting to hear the dislocation of the shoulder from its socket. After hearing the pop, I drove my axed-head into the soldier’s spinal cord and watched as he twitched the last few minutes of life out of him.

Kicking the corpse out of the way, I sat down in the driving seat of the tank and moved the canister barrel around trying to see what was going on outside with the camera attached to it. It appeared that the rest of my squad was taking on another tank but the fourth one was firing at them, deciding that they could probably take the third on their own, I pointed the canister barrel at one of the machine guns and shot at it, luckily, it was a hit and the turret was completely blown off from the tank itself. The full attention of the Doombringer was now on me, the now lone machine gun was firing hopeless rounds into the metal plating of my tank and they were loading a canister shell of their own. Regretting the decision I made of disabling the machine guns on my tank, I ran to the back looking for another canister shell hoping that two could take the life out of the fourth tank.

Nearly falling on my face, the shot fired into the tank had a high impact inside; I grabbed a nearby chair and fought the concussion blast. An overhead light turned red and warning symbols came up on all the monitors.

“DAMMNIT!” I shouted, pounding my fist on desks.

Climbed outside of the tank holding a canister shell and jumped onto a nearby roof, it was nice being already two stories in the air and not climbing the building. I ran across the rooftops and found a sniper lying on the ground with a one of my soldiers ripped to shreds, most likely from a machine gun. I jumped onto the tank that had hit me, luckily for me, when I climbed out of the tank, there was smoke covering me, so the enemy tank presumed I must have died, and now were targeting my comrades. With this helpful stroke of luck, I opened the hatch, threw the canister into the hole, and shot the “bomb” causing the inside of the tank to most likely heat up like an oven.

Regrouping the rest of everyone, I was shocked that some of us were actually alive, thirty men against four heavy-armored, overpowered tanks, and nine came out alive, I was pretty impressed.

“KYWAHAHAHAHA! You must think this… victory was amazing don’t you Kraxel, but the true test has not even begun yet!”

“I can take anything you can throw at me Zoroki!”

“Can you take your fallen? Who we all know is more powerful than what you could ever be!”

The thought hurt, and I knew he was right, fallen’s were all the sins that we were and all the sins we have thought, and I, I am very sinful. The evening sun went down across the sea and the eternal night fell across the battlefield of Scarwell; except this wasn’t an ordinary looking night, instead of black colored sky, it had a tint of red, like the night sky itself was bleeding. Then, my blood ran cold, Zoroki was here in the marketplace, and I knew, that a worse fight than these four tanks was coming. . .

 

[strategiser24]

OOC: Sorry for slight delay, have lots of things this week with Band Concert on Saturday.

Tariq the Archeops
Scarwell, Azmarax, Siege Broken

Everything seemed blurry and dark as Tariq slowly regained his clarity of thought. He was no longer cold, but he could still feel his slow recovery was from his irregular heartbeat; he could feel his heart changing rhythm unpredictably, and could hear faint voices commenting about it. All he could see was the blurred figures of the soldiers helping, and the sky of late afternoon. Fatigue racked his entire body as he slowly recovered. The wound he'd sustained in his foot began bleeding slowly; he could feel soldiers bandaging it as the blurred figures came into focus. And then, out of nowhere, Zatrash's familiar presence reentered his thoughts. You're more impressive than I thought you were Tariq; to do what you've done, to surprise us all by turning the tides and living to tell about it...Ah, but what am I saying? I am you, and your skills aren't far from mine...Keep that in mind for the rest of both mine and your friends...

Tariq forced himself to ignore what was happening around him and to not let Zatrash get the better of his fatigue. How did...Who... Tariq said, trying to collect his thoughts, ...What do you mean that the Irfan have 'tried' controlling you before?

A few...friends...of yours know the answer, Zatrash replied, almost letting out a laugh, They may not realize, or want to believe it, but their by-standing may have had a part in leading to disaster...

How do you know this? Tariq ordered, growing angry in his mind, How do I know this isn't a trick to turn me on my friends?!?

Everyone talks...with time, Zatrash answered, unfazed by Tariq's tone, ..But you have other problems to worry about at the moment...I'm eager to see how your Bisharp friend handles Zororki...I'm hoping that at least one of them will run in terror of the other...but, I think I'm setting my standards too high...

Zatrash withdrew from Tariq's mind without warning; Tariq had no idea what his Fallen was saying, but he knew one the meaning of one thing he said: Kraxel was going to need help.

Tariq suddenly felt a shock of energy surge through him, causing him to pass out briefly before being jolted to clarity a few seconds later. "AH!" Tariq yelled, getting up suddenly, "Stop shocking me!"

"I told you that would work," a doctor said, standing next to Tariq with a defibrillator, "His heart rate was out of rhythm and...Hey! Where are you going?!?"

"No time, I need to go help the other Seer!" Tariq said, already halfway down the road, "...Remind me to thank you for helping me recover quickly,"

"But your still bleeding!" a soldier yelled.

"I'll walk it off!" Tariq yelled, barely hearing what the soldier was saying.

Tariq, with his renewed energy, stretched his wings and flew over the rows of buildings; they were still sore, but thankfully, he could sense Kraxel wasn't too far away. After a few minutes, Tariq spotted him with several other soldiers, surrounded by two Doombringer tanks...and two more in pieces. Tariq watched as Kraxel took down the other two; the soldiers with him were, no doubt, shaken after the endeavor...but things didn't seem to get any better once their greatest enemy emerged from a dark alley: Zoroki, Kraxel's Fallen.

 

[R.I. Saraibre]

OOC: Uhg, short post is short.

Seng the Grovyle
Esteran Rainforest Edge

I continued going from tree to tree, gathering up as much information I could about how to go with this assault without looking like it was Seer’s with the help of nature itself. As I did, I felt the flow of information stop when something else came to mind.

Alright, we have touched base at the edge of the rainforest. I am accompanied by an Altaria and we are currently, on the outskirts of the rainforest. I'll be making my way to the denser part of it shortly, though alone. I doubt my Altaria transport will be able to fit into such quarters. See you within the hour. Mmm, and I don't think I've got your name yet milady.

Knowing the other Seer was there I darted off in the direction of the rainforest’s edge, knowing the sooner this was started, the better. He was correct though, I had not given my name, as I did not do often. My real name was something to be given only to those that had my complete trust, as I carried the name of my family to keep them alive. As I continued I felt something else in my subconscious and I had no doubt that it was the other Seer. I could tell this individual was not always what he once was, but had turned into something better. I wasn’t going to go further into my evaluation until I met this other Seer in person. I wasn’t going to take one Seer going into my mind personally; I had nothing to hide in that regard.

Soon enough I found myself closer the ground again, walking into less fogged and humid areas with more light, to find a meditating Typhlosion, no less sitting on a branch. This interested me, for I wouldn’t of expected such a thing from that kind of Pokémon, but then again such expectations were often shattered by the individual differences of each soul living their life. As I came closer I noticed that the fire Pokémon was aware of my presence, and must have realized it was my mind he was inside. I was a bit amused by his embarrassment.

“Oh, that must have been you I felt. Sorry if I prodded too far into your mind. I've been trying to better my Seer abilities. However, I'm glad to officially meet you Miss. . .?”

“No need to apologize. It’s not often one can get into my mind like that, so your practice is well garnered.” I spoke. “My name is Seng. It is nice to meet another Seer such as yourself Zix.”

I bowed my head a bit, as I did with my usual formalities. Looking at Zix I could tell he went through very hard times quite recently, and despite those hard times he made it over here to assist with this difficult task of stopping Delath, or at least delaying his plans long enough. Time may as well have already been up a few days ago. We needed to move.

“Delath no doubt has already started poisoning the forest closer to this temple hidden in sharp spires on a mountain range that looms over the forest. We need to stall the plans he has to turn this forest into a dead swampland and go towards this temple, all without giving any of the Abyss reasons to believe Seer’s are at the fault of the misfortunes we are going to be giving them.” I explained quickly. “The trees and the wind have done their best to assist me with what can be done, and it must be done in a very stealthily manner, both advancement towards the temple, and stalling anything we find along the way. I’ve been told the Abyss squads move in groups of five, and are all over the forest. We don’t have much of any time.”

It was an incredibly difficult task, but it had to be done and done as soon as possible. I knew that having Zix was going o be a tremendous help rather than doing it on my own.

 

[Flash Sport]

ooc: Rushed post...

Liechi the Whimsicott
Dysan, Kanat <En route to> Vora, Victakan

So hooray, they were on their way to Azmarax, though finding a vessel to get them across the ocean was no easy task. Her departure got off to a really rocky and depressing start. Rebel Pokémon had been combing the beach and docks for a vessel that wasn’t either splintered, capsized, or filled with holes. They had found none that was perfectly intact. The storm of Abyss that came through had destroyed much of what lied on the coastline. From the way the beach was scored and debris was charred, it looked much like the work of a gyarados. It was probably just one, however, considering Dysan wasn’t completely obliterated. When the search for an undamaged boat failed, they decided to adopt a small steam pinnace that needed some mending and engine fixing. Doctor Dyne and a few other engineers volunteered to fix it the best they could, though the former grumbled they wouldn’t know how to put a two-piece puzzle back together. In the meantime, she had went in search of someone capable of using teleport and was directed to the young abra with whom she conversed. Unfortunately, even that prospect turned out rather dim when he revealed he could not teleport her any further than Meranfal, Victakan due to a lack of experience at teleporting large distances. However, things did eventually turn out for the better.

Currently, the reassembled engine was putt-putting away, smoking like a chimney and gurgling like a drowning mon as it pushed the boat through the rather choppy waters. They were traveling at a nice speed, but Liechi guessed the boat would have faired much better if they had more time or if it weren’t damaged in the first place. Glancing behind her, Liechi called over her shoulder, “How’re you doing back there Rycero? You’re looking a little green!” The kecleon gave a dry laugh of sarcasm as he continued steering the vessel. He was one of three that were adamant about and successful in tagging along, the other being Salut. Montezu was the third, but his injuries still hadn’t healed all the way. Liechi could still see his face, scrunched in pain and eyes filled with determination. Try as he might to convince her that he was well enough for the travel, Liechi wouldn’t have it. Her brother was already lost some place and she didn’t want to lose a close friend. Instead, she suggested the task of returned to Lakeville to inform her family and others of her whereabouts, and to update them on the happenings. He appeared rather dejected, but obliged.

“Many apologies for my inability to be of better assistance,” came the telepathic voice. Beside her appeared materialized a yellowish, biped with the head shaped something like a fox. “I’m afraid I lack the mastery of teleporting that my parents and ancestors possessed.”

“It’s alright…no big deal,” she reassured him. “You didn’t have to come along if you didn’t want to.”

“I felt I should at least do something. If we get at least halfway there, I will be able to teleport all of you to Vora.” Liechi nodded thankfully. If only Meranfal wasn’t under Abyss control, then they wouldn’t have to worry about crossing the sea by boat at all, but it was something they had to deal with at the moment.

Liechi refocused on the open receptacle spread flat before her. Its vitreous cubes shimmered in the light despite the overhanging clouds. Slowly rotating inside the center cubes were Doctor Dyne’s mechanisms, less than the size of a joltik. As she had read from the provided documents, the machines were known as Pokémon Combat Shells. Although versatile to some degree, each of the five was built to specialize in a particular thing. The two hulking ones, called Def and S.Def, were built to withstand heavy blows many times over and fire off powerful blasts as well. The next smaller ones, called Atk and S.Atk, specialized in attacking. They were more lightly built than the defensive variants and are able to better augment the pilot’s powers. The last and smallest shell turned out to be built for swift maneuverability. Because of its light build, it contained instruments that would allow for precision strikes in order to take down opponents before the machine would sustain severe blows.

Liechi smiled. “Who else would have come up with something like this except for the crazy doctor?” Aside from the cubes that contained the shells, few others held items such as weaponry, tools, and medic packs. Three elemental gems, provided by the doctor, also rotated inside the cubes. Those were the only three the doctor had managed to get from Houan Peak before the Abyss arrival. While they would give the machine phenomenal power, the gems were quick to burn out and needed to be used sparingly.

“So…how long until landfall?” asked Salut as she approached and seated herself beside the whimsicott. Spotting the box, she added. “He’s really creative isn’t he?”

“Very much so,” Liechi responded, closing the contraption and locking it with the key. “We’re about halfway there, but Baba said he’d be able to teleport us to Vora when we reach that point.” She had inspected the land prior to their departure and saw that while Vora was mostly evacuated, it remained untouched by any significant Abyss forces. Hopefully it would remain that way long enough for them to make landfall. “If you don’t mind my asking…how exactly is Doctor Dyne your father?”

Salut giggled. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind. I get that question…well looks a lot. He’s my adoptive father. My parents died in, what he guessed, was a raid by a pack of Pokémon. He found me when I was really young, just a hatchling. At first, he said he was going to leave me there and let nature ‘run its course,’ but he decided to bring me along after I started crying.”

Liechi didn’t know whether to laugh or scowl. “Geez…that old mon is really something else.”

“Yeah…but he’s really kind at heart. He tries not to show it so openly.”

“If that’s the case, then he’s really good at it.”

“Sorry to interrupt you girls’ bonding time!” called Rycero from the helm. “But we’ve reached the midway point. Now unless you want to sail to Meranfal, I suggest we get moving before a gyarados or some other equally vicious monstrosity happen to pass this way!”

Liechi stood and slid the box onto her back before she and Salut headed in his direction as he released the anchor. “Why Rycero, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were scared to be on the water,” the whimsicott teased.

“I have no reason to deny or refute the fact that I am very much at a disadvantage on the seas and as such, am a bit unsettled by our defenselessness, but to say I’m scared to be on the water is incorrect. To say that I’m a little on edge about what may emerge from its depths is a bit more accurate,” he riposted. Liechi laughed and shook her head. Each of them checked their packs to make sure everything was there. Liechi watched as Rycero removed a knife and kept it close to his side before nodding. The group surrounded Baba.

“Is everyone ready?”

“When ever you are,” Liechi told him. They all touched Baba’s shoulder as his body swirled with a multitude of pastel colors. Liechi felt the energy tingling through her arm first and then through the rest of her body. In a moment as swift as a blink, the sea disappeared and the group found themselves in Vora, a ghost town. Evident by the statue behind them, it was obvious they landed in the town’s center, a rather open spot. Each of them gave a quick inspection of their surroundings for danger, but found none.

“Is anyone here?” Rycero questioned, keeping his voice low.

“Maybe, but I think they’re in hiding,” Liechi told him before turning to Baba. “Thanks for your help, Baba. We really appreciate it.”

“Just wish there was more I could do.”

“What you’ve done is well enough. Be safe on your way back to Dysan. See you around I guess.” The abra lifted a clawed hand and gave a single departing wave before disappearing in a minor flash of light. So they’ve made it to Victakan. She wondered how long it would be before they ran into trouble here. Shifting the receptacle on her back to a more comfortable position, Liechi motioned for them to get moving. She conjured a tailwind that swirled around each of them before swiftly heading off.

 

[Necros]

OOC: I am soooo sorry for being so late, RL's been getting me down. Hopefully this mediocre post will do.

Melanthios Malachi the Sableye
Sartaras, Victakan

Zydrax moved closer and closer to Jax, watching with insane glee as the Lopunny struggled and weakened from the effects of his presence. Jax did his best to withstand the onslaught, but it was like a sandcastle built on the beach. No matter how strong you make your castle, your fortress, it will inevitably be beaten down and washed away by the rising tide.

Jax spat out an insult. It was the most he could offer in way of resistance. Zydrax just kept sneering, savoring the moment, enjoying how weak his so called ‘better half’ was.

“YoU’VE trIEd So hArD. It’S bEEn fUn. WeLL dOnE. YoU wErE AbSOlutELy UsELeSS. AnD gOOdByE!”

As he made to separate Jax’s head from his shoulders, something suddenly exploded between the two of them. Both Lopunnies were covered in an abundance of dust and dirt, blinded for several seconds as they scrambled to recover and move away, stumbling a few steps back in each direction.

When the smoke cleared and Zydrax looked up again, he found his gaze filled with a bright, malevolent, gleaming grin. Barely a centimeter from his nose was the tip of an amethyst shard, a harsh glow from its owner’s eyes blazing off the sides of it.

“<And Good Day To You!> I am Melanthios Malachi and I will be your opponent from here on out.”

…A short while ago…​

By the time Melanthios had recovered from the trauma of passing through corrupted metal, he was covered from head to toe in splatters of grease, grime and other substances of questionable nature. But the damage to his beautiful purple physique was proportional to the damage he had wrecked on the Doombringer Tank’s insides. Ruptured pipes sprayed gouts of steam and oily substances, gears groaned and creaked and popped off of their mountings, loud crashes reverberated through the entire hull.

“If that doesn’t stop it, then dress me up in a brown suit, give me a proton pack and call me Peter Venkman,” he said, wiping an excess of slime off of his forehead. “Kyehehehehehehehe…”

Sure enough, the movement of the massive structure seemed to have halted, and the muffled bursts of canon fire were slowly becoming less and less frequent. Gears Melanthios hadn’t touched were stopping, pistons going still, lots of steam being released, slowly beginning to flood the room. While not necessarily harmful to the Sableye, it was getting rather uncomfortably hot. Definitely not the kind of sauna you would want to stick around in. It was clearly about that time to exit, but unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be an easy way out of the massive thing, save from phasing through the metal again, and Melanthios wasn’t stupid enough to try doing that when there was Zydrax and who knew what else outside just lying in wait to ravage his weakened body. If only Jax would hurry up and-

Something akin to an explosion ripped through the hull of the Doombringer Tank, tearing a gaping hole in the far and high end of the chamber, allowing for the steam to start escaping, air to flow in and little wisps of fire to start licking at the edges of the torn metal.

Well, that settled that problem. Grinning gleefully, the Sableye made his way across a sea of broken cogs and oil, practically skipping as he went, the exit getting closer and closer-

He was interrupted yet again by a sharp crackling noise. Syrat’s thunderbolt to the cabin clearly had been very strong, and was unfortunately conducting through the metal with ease, sending waves of electricity throughout the chamber. Melanthios was forced to perform a series of rather inelegant maneuvers just to ensure he wasn’t caught by a stray shock, grunting and flinching and dodging from side to side, unable to move any closer to his exit and the (relatively speaking, of course) sweet air of freedom.

“Okay, now you’re just being <mean>,” he tutted, clicking his tongue and snickering boldly, even though he wasn’t entirely sure he had a way out of this situation.

Then he paused, sniffing at the air a little. There was some sort of new, acrid burning smell, quite apart from the mélange of foul scents from before. It wasn’t coming from the torn hole either. Turning around, Melanthios’ jeweled eyes widened when he saw that a raging inferno was starting to swell inside of the tank, fed by the numerous substances leaking from the various machinery, even causing small explosions when it hit certain combinations. And it was heading towards him. Fast.

There wasn’t time to make a break for the exit. There was barely any time to think of a plan. The most Melanthios could do was grab a large hunk of thick metal lying around on the ground and brace himself, holding it out like a shield towards the blaze. A stupid and impulsive move with little chance of actually doing any good.

It was the kind of thing Ledumos loved to see.

Just before the flames reached Melanthios, gritting his teeth and bracing himself against his makeshift shield, they reached a rather large pile of chemicals. And this pile of chemicals was rather more volatile than the previous few batches. So much so, in fact, that the mere contact of the heat from the flames caused what could only be described as a terrific, localized explosion of enormous proportions.

Said explosion sent out a shockwave of force that collided with Melanthios’ shield and sent it flying back out of the hole…with the Sableye clutching onto it for dear life.

‘This seems to happen to me quite a lot,’ grumbled Melanthios inwardly to no one in particular as he sailed through the air, slight pain catching at the tips of his ears and sides, some of the fire having traveled with him. Below him, the Doombringer Tank shuddered and groaned, muffled explosions coming from its interior, tearing itself apart.

This time, Melanthios tried to at least realize where he was going to crash land before he actually did so, using both his eyes and mind, only needing about a split second before he groaned.

“You are so doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

…Back to the present moment…​

It hadn’t been easy, composing himself in the space of a few moments, not to mention the fact from the way his ear tips were still searing with pain indicated that at least one of them was probably still on fire. Still, he couldn’t show weakness now. Hell, the fire might have even made him look more badass to the Fallen Lopunny. So he quickly brushed himself off, put on his best maniacal smile, and thrust his shard forward at the Abyssal coward.

To his credit, Zydrax only flinched a little and took a few steps back before struggling to regain his composure. He didn’t know much about Melanthios apart from what he could see in his Fallen, and that kid scared him in an entirely different way. So it was only natural he was wary of this new, smug Sableye that looked like he was entirely ready to take him on and the squad of Cohorts and Scourge behind him. Even though it was completely ridiculous and impossible…and the Sableye Seer must have known it…this guy honestly was daring them to attack. Certain that he could succeed.

Even if it was suicidal insanity, it terrified Zydrax. It was a concept he couldn’t comprehend, no matter how he rationalized it. So antithetical to his own cowardly nature of making sure the odds were always stacked in his favor.

The squad held back, unsure what to do. Their commander wasn’t giving the order to attack. He wasn’t attacking the Seer himself. And the Seer wasn’t attacking them…save from the way he kept smirking and staring at them malevolently, captivating their attention.

It truly was a sight to behold. Was this the power of the future Magus of Misfortune?

***
​

“Not on your liiiiife~!” cackled Ledumos hysterically in response to something that had come before. Was it the last sentence?

Necros scowled. “These Fallen are so useless. Useless pieces, useless wastes of power. Utter cowards, every single Abyssal. Useless, disgusting, scum. Ahhh, to be stalled by something like this, what a waste, what a waste~”

It was unclear who was mocking whom in this comfortable setting where the two Magi looked down on everyone on the gameboard.

Each other?

The pieces?

Or someone else entirely?

It was perhaps one mystery that would never be given an answer, save for only this: Every word has its purpose, and every line its objective.

 

[Agent Tectonic]

Zix Dragontamer: Typhlosion
Esteran Rainforest

The Grovyle in front of me introduced herself as Seng, a name I knew rather well, but only because of the once living tribe this Grovyle was apparently affiliated to. It was slightly surprising to see one of their members alive; however, I couldn't dwell as she continued on why she needed help:

“Delath no doubt has already started poisoning the forest closer to this temple hidden in sharp spires on a mountain range that looms over the forest. We need to stall the plans he has to turn this forest into a dead swampland and go towards this temple, all without giving any of the Abyss reasons to believe Seer’s are at the fault of the misfortunes we are going to be giving them. The trees and the wind have done their best to assist me with what can be done, and it must be done in a very stealthily manner, both advancement towards the temple, and stalling anything we find along the way. I’ve been told the Abyss squads move in groups of five, and are all over the forest. We don’t have much of any time.”

“Hm, well in regards to stalling the poison, I'm afraid I have no knowledge on how to do it unless you can give a rather brief but informative rundown on how to do it, it may be best to continue whatever it is you have already done. Now, in regards to Abyss patrols, I can lend assistance there. I'm sure whatever it is you do in halting the poison that corrupts this forest, it must cost you much of your concentration. As such, I propose that you lead the way to wherever Delath is hiding as your kind have a natural affinity to navigating dense forests than I do, all the while halting the spreading corruption, while I keep my senses attuned to patrols and traps. With luck, we can navigate a path that eludes as many traps and patrols as possible and arrive at Delath's temple without detection.”

That was the best plan I could come up with as I didn't see any way else to get inside Delath's temple unseen. No sooner had I explained my plan, I was already considering the problems: getting inside, actually keeping ourselves unnoticed, one or both of our Fallens showing up, our strength; particularly mine; once we get there, and a few other complications. This was not going to be a good trip. Before we started off, I concentrated my mind and focused only on traps and Abyss movements and projected a map in my mind of the immediate area of the Esteran Rainforest. True to her word, it seemed that this regiment of troops did prefer squads of five and were heavily guarding Delath's temple located slightly southeast from where we were at. However, they couldn't cover the entire perimeter of it as it wasn't long before I detected a much less Abyss presence on the western side of the range, but it was also riddled with a bit more traps. We were to far out for me to recognize what kind of traps Just before I returned my thoughts to reality, a shadow danced around the corners of my vision. I turned to locate it, but it left as if it weren't there, yet as it did, there was small proof that it did exist, and I wasn't just going crazy. A rather toothy, malign grin escaped it and left me paralyzed to the core. It lifted once it left, and I no sooner did it leave that I expanded my virtual map and hunted down who I knew that was. I didn't find a trace of him, and it was then a rather cryptic message penetrated my thoughts, How far should I let you play your little game? Should I kill you now, or . . .no I like that idea better. Enjoy the spoils of victory while you can my pet.

My strength was still ebbing even after my Fallen left me to my fears. I didn't know what he was talking about; however, right now was not the time to raise any alarms, and so I banished all thoughts regarding him and finally returned myself to reality.

“Well, it looks like our best bet is to infiltrate from the western side of the range as there are less troops but a few more traps. It may be our best interest to come in from there; however, it does expose us as there is little forestry to hide in. Otherwise, we could take a more direct and stealthy approach from the north and hope that we can slip through the patrols while hiding among the foliage and trees. It's your call.”

 

[Tasslehoff]

OOC: sorry for the delay Strategiser and everyone, I have been busy.


Kraxel the Bisharp
Scarwell, Azmarax

Deathly minutes went by, the rest of my men scavenged our dead and the Doombringers to try and restock on more ammo and get better guns. I sat in the center of the marketplace meditating, I was trying to extend my consciousness of where Zoroki was, the only complication, somehow I couldn’t satellite his location or even look through his eyes, I could only communicate with him telepathically The sun finished its descent into the sea and night approached. The square suddenly got very cold and the men were no longer talking, we were all searching for our new enemy. After the Doombringer tanks were killed, I informed them my fallen was coming, after explaining how powerful a fallen can be, everyone was a little discouraged to fight, but they were loyal, and they new the job they signed up for, life in the military was practically signing your death warrant.

Not wanting to speak, afraid that Zoroki was close enough to hear, but hopefully not to see us yet, I gave off a string of military hand codes to the men, ordering them to go into specific location giving us a slight advantage over the approaching enemy.

Something was eating at my soul though; perhaps it was my fallen being so close, but it gave me a sense of fear I had never known before, I was not however to let the soul crushing fear of my fallen be my death, I would overcome this.

A dark, shadow-like movement in a nearby alley caught my intentions, an alley I told one of my soldiers to go, I started to sneak over towards it to see into the nighten-alley. I was relieved to see that it was the just shadowy form of the ‘mon I sent into the alleyway, I was about to turn back to where I was, but as I was turning, a completely black hand shot out from behind a crate. The ‘mon let out a blood-chilling scream, all I could do was stare in awe, Zoroki had his hand inside the ‘mons chest. The two walked out of the alleyway, most likely Zoroki wanting everyone to gaze at him, a fear tactic.

Zoroki grabbed the unlucky ‘mon’s neck, and pulled its heart out. Squeezing the still beating heart and then letting fall to the ground, someone finally summed up the courage to shoot, and then, hell broke put. Zoroki, ending his little show, squeezed the ‘mon he captured neck and ran into a nearby building.

Not wanting to run into the building and having a similar fate as the soldier now lifeless, I decided to taunt Zoroki. “C’mon Zoroki, you tried so hard to widdle my forces to nothing, come and face me like a man!”

“KrraAAkkeEElll, I couLLLddd deeSSSttrRRooYYY YYoooUUU noWW if I sOOOOoo chOosEEE tooo, whhYYY noootttt hAAvve A Shoooowww, AyyyeEEE?”

On a rooftop to my direct right, another scream cried out into the night and the head of a Raichu fell to the ground, blood pouring down the building into the street. Someone shotted, “He’s turning back, what do we do Kraxel?”

“Follow him! He most likely believes that we will not follow, he might try a flanking run, I need three ‘mons on me and the rest to stay behind, yell if he comes back!”

GOD DAMMIT TARIQ, WHERE ARE YOU?! Zoroki, my fallen, is here, and has a bloody-thirsty appetite.

Running from rooftop to rooftop, I tried my best to search for the shadowy form of Zoroki in the night of Scarwell, we came to another square in which multiple buildings were in a blaze and slowly coming down, in the middle of the square, sat Zoroki, waiting for us to come.

“AhhhHH KraXXeelll, YooUUrrr… PriiddDDdee, is ver FoollLLLiiisshhhHHH. ForrrRR nowwww, ItttTT wilLLll be ThhEEE dDEEaaatHHh of Youuuu.”

“Zoroki, despite your strength, you are still out numbered! I am still a seer, stronger than the foes of the Abyss! and I have powerful friends here as well.” (Not allowing him to know that my friend was another seer)

“Ahhh Kraxel, you are very foolish indeed, has it ever occurred to you why I can speak telepathically, you are a seer true, but I am the opposite of you, lets just say, the Abyss has its own version of the Indigo Seers, however, our versions are only made by the living seers, and the most powerful of us are the ones who are not necessarily the “best” living seers, there are only a few I can think of that are as strong, maybe stronger than me, but sadly, their names escape me.”

“You are a monster Zoroki, prepare to die!”

“It is… amusing, that you are so ready to kill your fallen, so ready to give up your dreams, I know your dreams Kraxel! I can help you achieve them, join me, kill these weak fouls, kill your “friend” that will most likely come to your aid, and join me, we can rule together!”

(The thought came amusing to me, however, Zoroki knew to much about me, he knew how to let my guard down, his promise was nice… but it occurred to me, was this just a ruse to try and get me alone, so that I may die?)

“Soldiers, FIRE! Kill this son of a *****!”

I tried to move closer but the fear was getting to strong, a cold sweat ran down my face and it was as if an invisible wall was holding me back.

"What’s wrong Kraxel? Where’s your high and mighty bravado now? You aren’t strong enough to defeat me!”

To Tariq: GAHH TARIQ! Where are you, I need help, I can’t defeat Zoroki with the few amount of guys left here.

Unable to really do anything against Zoroki, I pulled out my dagger and threw it at him, hoping that it would at least do something, it hit him the shadowy being in the wrists; a large gash also however appeared on my hand and crimson blood oozed out from a wound where no weapon had hit. In no mind of consciousness to ponder it, or even really notice it, I hid myself behind a canister on the rooftop and waited for Tariq to come and help me, hopefully, it would be before Zoroki found me, and hopefully, the soldiers I was commanding at the moment could at least prove useful as a distraction for

 

[strategiser24]

OOC: Before you flame me, yes I have permission to do this.

Tariq The Archeops
Scarwell, Azmarax, Winning the Fight

Tariq stood on the rooftop for several minutes, watching the events unfold. As he watched another vision came to him, one of a darkened city with a towering buildings in the distance. Shifting his view downwards, he could see both a Lopunny and Sableye fighting two very similar entities. Suddenly it hit him: it was Jax and Melanthos, both fighting their Fallen, and things seemed grim for both of them; all he could do was hope that Syrat or some other force could help them. However, before he could think of some kind of way to help him, another image flashed through his head. His view shifted from Jax and Melanthos to the towering building again; suddenly realizing he was scrying Sartaras, he watched as his vision flew to the Citadel's interior. In side one of the rooms sat a corrupted black Archeops and other Abyss soldiers. With all due respect Zatrash, what have you been doing with those maps for the last few weeks? You haven't been planning any defenses or offenses, what are you using them for then? the Abyss Flygon asked.

You're the FOURTH one to have asked me that question in the last week...but I guess I shouldn't expect you to understand something like this, Zatrash said, angry, trying to calm down, ...I'll tell you if it stops these interruptions...Answer this: Have you ever heard of the number Phi? The Divine Proportion?

The Flygon scratched his head, confused where Zatrash was leading him. No sir, I haven't...I've never heard of Phi or a Divine Proportion...

The Archeops turned to the Flygon, looking disappointed. 1.618, remember it, Zatrash replied, That number was the ratio that the Creator himself used to make the world...and left it as a reminder of himself for all of us....All of nature follows His proportion: the proportion of your chin to your to your upper lip, the proportion of the rings of a tree, to even the world itself, all of these follows the Divine ratio of 1.618...Those that are wise enough to see this can understand some of the clues that the Ancients left behind will find that they'd help win the war for them.

What do you mean? the Flygon asked, intrigued.

Our Ancestors, after trapping us in our Dead realm, chose to hide them at certain points in the world, ones they would remember later, Zatrash continued pointing to the map on the table, The Black Coming realized this, and found the Golden means of the world[, when they went there, they found that the stories were true: Their Ancestors left behind the Divine artifacts, but left them at Golden Ratio points in the world, in honor of Utopia saving them...the Citadel is built on one...

Do the Seers know this? With it they could find what they need to contact Utopia, the Flygon asked.

I doubt they do, their fear and panic puts things like a simple ratio in the back of their minds...Even if they did, they'd only find one of them, here at Sartaras, the only city that exists on a Divine Ratio...but I know that the other artifacts they need are somehow contained in the Divine Proportion...one way or another, Zatrash explained, ...Why are you still here? You got your answer. Now, leave me in peace!

The Flygon hurried out of Zatrash's chamber, frightened by his quick change in mood; Tariq focused on what Zatrash had said to the Flygon: Finding points in the world using the 'Golden Ratio', and the other strange group he mentioned, the 'Black Coming.'

Tariq snapped out of his thoughts and refocused. Turning around and making the flight back to the Palace, Tariq continued to think about everything: Zatrash, the Irfan, the siege, and everything else. Soon, he arrived back, things had calmed down significantly with the balance of power having shifted in their favor. Outside, Seryl was addressing a small group of 'mon on the steps. As Tariq landed and walked up the steps, the group went off in another direction leaving Seryl by himself while the battle continued in the outskirts of town. "Tariq!" Seryl said, spotting him, "I'd honestly thought that you'd have...I just didn't think that you'd be able to...well, I suppose if you didn't take the chance, we would've all been dead by now..."

"Seryl," Tariq asked, ignoring his regards, "What do you know about 1.618, the Divine Proportion?"

The old Torkoal looked at Tariq in puzzlement. "That's an...unusual question..." Seryl replied, "...All things in nature follow that ratio, like the growth of a tree and its branches, or the size of your upper body in proportion to your lower body...Why?"

"I think I know where to find the artifacts of Utopia: Their locations connected somehow to the Golden Ratio," Tariq explained, trying to clear the headache he'd recieved earlier, "...Its complicated, I saw it in my visions, but I think it'll work, I just need a map of the world to start,"

Seryl remained quiet for several moments, but then motioned for Tariq to follow him inside the Palace. Tariq obeyed, and after some walking, they reached what appeared to be a large war room in the Palace. The room was mostly devoid of other people, except for the guards outsid; no doubt, the others were out pushing the Abyss out of Scarwell. Pulling a map off a pile on a table in the corner, Seryl handed it to Tariq. "There's a calculator in one of these drawrs..I think...Look, I think know what you're trying to do, I can help," Seryl told Tariq.

The two of them searched the drawers for one, and found one in storage cabinet, along with different measurement tools. The two were then hard at work at drawing the Golden Ratio points on the map. An eternity seemed to pass as they worked continously, constantly being interrupted by curious soldiers. Any ordinary person would have lost patience after only a few minutes, but if this was going to help save the living from damnation, then that's all someone would need to keep them going. "Tariq...you mentioned Sartaras was on a ratio point...I don't see it," Seryl asked.

http://i43.*******.com/nlylaw.png

Tariq paused for a few moments, Seryl wasn't wrong. "...Lets try ignoring the oceans on the edges of the maps,"

Redrawing the same grid using the same formula, they cropped the edges of the map, that way, the calculations wouldn't be thrown off by the map's 'extras' on the edges. "How on...Tariq, you were right!" Seryl commented, looking at Sartaras.

http://i44.*******.com/33tj7nb.png

http://i44.*******.com/xvm93.png

Tariq did his best to remember what he saw in the vision of Zatrash's work. "...Lets try using this on Sartaras's city limits," Tariq answered, ignoring Seryl's reaction.

Taking a general area of Sartaras's borders, they, once again, drew another ratio grid. The results were surprising; the bottom-right of the ratio points lied right on the spot where the Citadel was located "...That can't be a coincidence," Seryl said, looking at the map, "I've heard legends of an 'holy and powerful artifact' being hidden in Sartaras and that its location would be revealed by 'divine numbers'..."

http://i40.*******.com/16rtqw.png

Tariq wasted no time in opening his mind and searching for Jax's and Melanthos's presence in Sartaras. Jax, Melanthos, I think there's something the Abyss is hiding in the Citadel that we need...I think its an ancient holy artifact left in the world by Utopia in ancient times...I can't explain much right now, my head is strained from some 'events' that have been happening in Scarwell, but I know that its a powerful, spiritual artifact that can help us defeat the Abyss...I don't think it can be used as a weapon, and frankly, I don't even know what it is, but I have a feeling the Citadel is tapping into some of its power to keep it standing: If you can find and...use it somehow...I think the Citadel would be easier to destroy, if it doesn't collapse then...or something...

As Tariq finished relaying the message, another message suddenly jerked Tariq away from Jax and Melanthos. GAHH TARIQ! Where are you, I need help, I can’t defeat Zoroki with the few amount of guys left here!

"DAMN!" Tariq yelled out of nowhere, "I forgot! Damn visions!"

Tariq sprinted out of the war room, knocking over papers and tables on his way. "TARIQ!" Seryl yelled, trying to catch up, "What's wrong with you?!?"

"Kraxel needs my help! I forgot he was fighting his Fallen with the vision I had! He needs help!" Tariq said, his voice fading as he ran down the main hall and out of the Palace.

Tariq quickly spread his wings and bolted for the sky, hurrying to the market. Taking only moments, or what seemed like moments, Tariq reached the source of Kraxel's distress message, spotting an injured Kraxel behind a canister, and his soldiers taking on Zoroki. Thinking fast, Tariq landed in a pile of rubble of what was left of a building and grabbed the largest rock he could in his talons, straining them as he took off again. Quickly spotting Zoroki again, he watched as a thrown knife struck down a soldiers. The others looked in shock, only to look back at Zoroki and see him charging full speed at them. "Catch this you ba****!!" Tariq ye;;ed, thrwing the 25 pound rock as hard as he could from the sky, with adrenaline-induced strength.

Zoroki looked up suddenly to see the giant projectile being hurled towards him. Barely, he dodged it, but the rock throw struck his right arm as he moved too late. "GAH!" he shrieked, grabbing his right arm.

Tariq landed in front of the amazed sodiers in the alley. Grabbing a knife from his cloak, Tariq taunted the hurt abomination. "So you hurt like the rest of us?...That'll be nice to know before I send you back to the depths!"

Zoroki looked up, seemingly unfazed by Tariq's entrance. "I ShOud'Ve KnOwN ZaTrash WoUlDn'T Be AblE to KeEp you DoWn froM HiS LaZy RoOm in SaRTarAs!" Zoroki said to Tariq, picking himself back up, "YoU CaNt sToP mE!"

Zoroki disappeared into the shadows suddenly. Tariq looked around frantically, searching for Zoroki. "Kraxel, get up!" Tariq said to Kraxel, "We can't do this without you either! You're the one who's best at seeing things in the shadows!...Just...try not to be afraid,"

Tariq hoped Kraxel would get up, but even he knew that asking someone to be fearless against their Fallen was like asking someone to stand still while a fire is being lit under them.

 

[Avenger Angel]

Jax the Lopunny
Sartaras, Victakan

I never felt so pathetic in my life. Any pathetic bastard I could fight, easily. No problem. How was Zydrax any different, really? This... fear, I couldn't understand it. It really had no logical reason to exist right now, but it did.

"YoU’VE trIEd So hArD. It’S bEEn fUn. WeLL dOnE. YoU wErE AbSOlutELy UsELeSS. AnD gOOdByE!”

He then moved in for the strike, but suddenly, something exploded between the two of us, and I was forced to shield my face and shut my eyes from the debris and dust flying in all directions. I managed to stay on my feet, although when I opened my eyes again, I saw Mel, just staring into Zydrax's face.

"<And Good Day To You!">" Mel teased the Fallen Lopunny. "I am Melanthios Malachi and I will be your opponent form here on out."

Mel looked like hell from the disaster with the Doombringer tank, but he still seemed confident and like a live wire, totally against backing down. The gall that Mel displayed... it even surprised Zydrax. He had never seen this kind of insanity, or bravery as some people might have mistaken it for. From what I could tell, if there was something Zydrax hated, it was an unpredictable opponent. Someone like Mel. Someone unlike me, who he could follow and surpass at every moment.

I was hoping Mel would have just struck him down where he stood. Get the nonsense over with. But maybe, there was a whole other plan to this.

Handle this one...

Zydrax's cohorts went after me instead, leaving him with Mel. I lost sight of Syrat, but he was probably somewhere around here. Regardless, as one Scourge Quilava leapt toward me, I quickly struck him in the stomach with my foot, throwing him back seven feet, although it was far from a lethal blow.

I hated being without weapons, but that just meant I needed to improvise. The streets of Sartaras were littered with rubble, but I knew a few things scattered around could be used as weapons. As another Scourge, a hideous and grotesque Hypno, attacked me with another jagged sword, I stepped back and found a dusty glass bottle still intact despite all the havoc that had been caused. He swung wildly, and I ducked in time before swinging the bottle into his face, smashing it into pieces and causing plenty of broken shards to be thrown in all directions.

Unlike the sword, however, the strike was far from lethal. Even after burying the broken bottle into his face, he was still alive despite the agony. I then robbed him of his jagged, bladed weapon, and quickly rammed it through his chest, running him through with the edge of the blade ripping out his back.

However, seconds later, my hands were burning, searing with a newfound pain that I hadn't felt before. As I suddenly learned, the living could not use the Abyss's weapons.

And then suddenly, I felt another sharp and horrific stab of pain in my chest. I looked down and there it was, my chest was bleeding, from an injury that had no reason to be there. I growled from the pain, but then, all of a sudden, there was another spike of pain, and another wound appearing there for no good reason.

I stepped back, and vomited blood. Only when I looked up did I see the reason. Syrat stabbed Zydrax in the chest. Twice. And as he raised his dagger yet again, it plunged in a third time, sending a murderous spike of agony through my torso. For a moment, I felt like cursing Syrat for his bad timing, or his inability to pick a vital spot to get it done quickly. When Zydrax noticed him, he yanked the dagger away from him, stabbed him in the chest, and then struck the squirrel with ferocity, throwing him across the street. As Syrat lay there completely still, I truly had to question whether he was still alive or not.

A Scourge took advantage of the distraction, and took a hungry bite out of my shoulder. With adrenaline in full kick now, I turned around, bitter with anger as I saw a deranged, vile Primeape sinking his gnarled, infected teeth into my flesh, trying to clamp his jaw around the bones to try and wrestle them out of my body. With no weapons, I could only grab his head, and with all my might, I twisted his head and broke his neck, but in my anger, pain, and rage, I couldn't stop, couldn't stop until the head was twisted around and around and around until it came off like a bottle cap.

But in the meantime, I was dying, and I truly hated it. It felt so pathetic, so weak, like a forced surrender. A Cohort of Chaos Dragonite approached, looking savage with hunger. His eyes were bloodshot with a craving for soft flesh. With no weapons, I threw the severed head of the Primeape at him, causing him to at least flinch from the morbid surprise.

I then tried to move in for the attack, but the pain, the spike of agony in my chest struck me in mid-motion and I was forced to fall back with the precious little time I had left, using what could have been an attack during a well-timed distraction to instead fall back, cowardly like a little, stupid dog. Damn it, this was so unlike me. I hated it.

"ThE sHAdOW oF DEatH CreEPs oVeR tHe LOst," He chanted some incoherent dogma. "DaRK oNE, Is yOUr SouL aS sWEeT aS thE MeaT pUppEt iT OncE rEsiDeD iN?

I looked around and found nothing. Nothing but a trash can, broken stones, and newspapers. Nothing at all useful in the slightest. Meanwhile, the Dragonite wielded a dark and unholy sword that was unlike anything the previous bastards used. This weapon actually looked respectable compared to the travesty of a weapon the others carried.

"Do nOT aNSWeR wiTH yOUr ToNGUe, onLy wITh yoUR taStE..." He commanded, ready to swing the weapon through my heart.

I had only one trick left. On the ground, I found a pile of ashes, and with them, bones. The macabre remains of a Pokémon. As the Dragonite approached, I grabbed a handful of the ashes, and a few of the blackened ribs, and at last a femur bone.

"nOw DIEEEEEIEIEE!!!"

He brought the sword up, but I quickly threw the ashes into his eyes, blinding him. He held onto the blade and began to swing wildly while wailing obscenities, trying to keep me suppressed and not come close in his moment of disability. In the meantime, I used one rib bone, and sent it spiraling into his forehead. The blackened bone half-buried itself into his head, causing blood and other cranial fluids to start oozing out all over his face.

I thought I would have enough energy to beat him to death with the bone, but I just didn't have it in me. The adrenaline was dying off, leaving me with a weakened state. More of Zydrax's cohorts were closing in, and I questioned my ability to fight even just one more Scourge.

In the meantime, I was still losing blood, and there wasn't a doctor or a herbalist for hundreds of miles that could help. The medicines I had would only suppress the pain, and only offered a slow means of healing. But in a constant warzone like this, where there was no place to find rest or a place to recover, they were near useless.

Mel had to kill Zydrax. Syrat was probably dead and I sure as hell couldn't even look at Zydrax, never mind fight him. If he couldn't, then this was where I would die. But if that had to happen and these bastards would overcome me... I would at least give them hell before they did.

Jax, Melanthos, I think there's something the Abyss is hiding in the Citadel that we need...I think its an ancient holy artifact left in the world by Utopia in ancient times...I can't explain much right now, my head is strained from some 'events' that have been happening in Scarwell, but I know that its a powerful, spiritual artifact that can help us defeat the Abyss...I don't think it can be used as a weapon, and frankly, I don't even know what it is, but I have a feeling the Citadel is tapping into some of its power to keep it standing: If you can find and...use it somehow...I think the Citadel would be easier to destroy, if it doesn't collapse then...or something...

One last zombie of a Pidgeotto flew toward me before I struck the unholy stuffing out of it in the face with the femur bone of whatever unknown charred Pokémon I had come across. The blow was enough to rip the beak and a good portion of his face off, leaving nothing but an ungodly hole of misery that bleed black and gray pus, along with an unholy stench that nearly made me vomit. It fell to the ground, gargling, trying to hold itself together. But with no hands, all it could do was accept death... yet again.

Tariq... he didn't realize Mel and I were chewing on death's scythe at the moment. He mentioned a spiritual artifact, but I knew, there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell we'd be able to look for it. Zydrax could possibly kill Mel, although Mel had the advantage that Syrat had stabbed the wind out of him. I knew... because one of my lungs was clearly collapsed. Mel could use that to his advantage if he used that weakness well.

I'm losing it... Tariq. We... we're in deep. God, this is so unlike me. I... I really h...hate it.

I had to break the link when I felt more blood in my throat, and I had to puke it out, letting it splatter all over the ruined tarmac road. Damn it, this was awful. And I knew what would happen if I died. I would fall into the Abyss, and either be stuck there as a victim, or come back as the same, ungodly abominations I've been trying to kill this entire time.

That was a fate worse than death...

 

[rotrum]

Kawahira the Mismagius
Dysan, Kanat -> Sartaras, Victakan

After the defeat of the abyss at Dysan, Kawahira was rather glad, having come out relatively unscathed from the ordeal, even that last attacking cohort failed to do that much damage. It was surprising, despite the strain he'd gone through lately with little time to rest, he still somehow managed to regain his strength, for the first time in a while, he was going into this war with his full power. It took him a bit before realizing why, and he quickly wondered "Aloud" whether or not it was on purpose or not. In fact, only one other being in the world could hear him, and that would be a certain shadowy figure...

---

A black mismagius floated gently between a squad of abyssal healers, known for unreal healing ability, that would corrupt the purest of souls. His body contorted and shifted randomly, unwilling to reflect any light, despite being bathed by light as the healing energies washed over him. He opened his eyes, smirking a bit at the words that seemed to wonder across his consciousness. The black figure looked at the healers, bowing his body a bit, before fading away into the shadows, leaving the servants somewhat confused, left without orders. They hastily made the trip back to Delath's castle, their job done.

"Hn, I wonder how this shall play itself out" A bodiless voice spoke once the abyssal servants had cleared out.

---

Kawahira made sure the residents of Dysan were fine, leaving them a small store of highly potent medical supplies, and making a short rounds around the resistance's current central area. Deeming it safe enough, he returned to the exact center, using some materials that he didn't have on him, that he had requested the resistance salvage from the city, and a decent amount of his own resources, running out of a few of the ingredients in the process. He sighed, it was the only way he'd be able to travel and reach anywhere in time to help with anything. According to the Risk-Style map, the city of Sartaras had loads of men still present, as opposed to a mere three seers and allies, two of which were in critical condition, judging on how their pieces lay on the ground. Oh, how he loved board games. He shook that off, grimly looking aorund other parts of the map and realizing that they needed help everywhere. He sighed. He had already decided on Sartaras, and it wasn't going to be changing anytime soon.

He took a last fleeting look at the fireworks dispaly he'd been maintaining for the celebrating resistance members, before letting the last bright specks of light fade away. He closed his eyes, meditating over the massive spell cirlce he had crafted with the help of telekinesis, as it had to be perfectly aligned. All of this was just to teleport one person, as he really wasn't the greatest expert in magic, no matter how much he exerted the presence of someone who, for example, knew what they were doing with confidence.

IN a flash, he disappeared, the spell circle being blown away by an imaginary wind, the last bright white specks of energy disappearing within seconds.

---

Kawahira appeared a hundred feet above Jax, who had been his object of concentration; other seers were easy to concentrate on, and thus kept him on track and not fifty feet underwater on the wrong side of the world. Yes, that would've been rather unfortunate. The sight below him was shocking. Syrat, the little electric pokemon he'd seen when he first met the group, was laying, bleeding horribly and his status as alive or dead was questionable. Mel looked like he'd just fought the entire Abyss and won, and Jax lay there, the last bit of good food in a feeding frenzy of abyss.

He didn't flinch, even if he didn't expect it to be this bad. No. This was all the more reason to make a show about it. He pointed his khakkhara downwards as he flew towards the earth at amazing speeds. The six blades began to glow, before three different attacks came down, one immediately after the other. The first wasThunderwave, a weak electrical current that jumped from Abyss to Abyss, hitting but not truly effecting the fallen of Jax. In fact, Kawahira trusted Mel to deal with him, and he was just keeping them from getting back-up and from further maiming Jax. The next blade fired off twenty will-o-wisps. The last glowed purple, before that purple jumped off the blade, dividing into a very specific number and striking almost all of the scourge and cohorts within a decent radius. These pokemon glowed purple once, before an intense pain burned through their bodies, causing most to collapse, which a few persistent ones continued their attacks. A deadly Hex.

In all of this, Kawahira said three words. "Thundara, Firaga, Doom." before landing on the ground. He'd only manage to clear a small radius-since he was not only dividing his power among numerous attacks, but he was also doing it from a distance at first. For the moment, he kept the attacks off. Now satisfied at that any scourge nearby with a status effect was death, cursed to death, he let off a quiet Heal Bell. It's healing abilities were rather pathetic, doing only th bare minimum for real wounds, and mostly having to do with burns, poisons, and frostbites, he still used it, only briefly and quietly. Just, in case they were alive, to keep Syrat and Jax up a little longer.

Then, of course, he realized he was on a battlefield. He happened to realize this as a scourge's claws dug into his back, his reflexes kicking in a bit too late, only phasing through a small part of the physical attack and largely getting hit despite himself. Not good. He stabbed the offending scourge, not even taking a second glance at it afterwards, six times, drilling a khakkhara-diameter hole in it before going onto the rest fo his opponents. Jax's fallen had arrived well prepared.

The next oncoming enemy was a cohort, a Forretress. While he wasn't sure how effectively it could wound he soul, he refused to take any chances, the blades of his khakkhara spinning around once more, taking on their familar drill position as his focused his telekinetic abilities. Sakuras quickly span around the drill, adding to the cutting power as the stabbed it into the oncoming cohort. The cohort counteredby using it's own spinning move, a powerful rapid spin. And, in fact, if it had been going in the opposite direction, it would've wounded Kawahira, however the spin simply caused the forretress' armor to be pierced sooner. This, however, posed a problem in itself.

His blades were stuck. He ussed the forretress-staff as a makeshift shield, blocking a fireball, however the added weight made telekinetically wielding the weapon difficult. However, he refused to let go of it, keeping a small part of his brain occupied with keeping it floating with him. He cursed, the ground turning into a massive chessboard. Illusions were his strong point, not meleee combat. He pulled off the same maneuver as before, the rook-king switch, he never had learned what it was called. Another fireball slammed into him, simply burning up a large pawn piece before Kawahira appeared a mere few feet away, as far as he could escape in a moment's notice.

A massive white knight suddenly dropped on a nearby scourge, before dissipating into pink, as the body, sliced into an unrecognizable corpse, fell to the ground. The blob of pink was suddenly incinerated by a fireball, and Kawahira turned his attention to a Charmeleon scourge that had been bugging him for a while. Another fireball made its way for him, and he fired a shadow ball in response, which, in midair, became a massive white rook piece. The main purpose of these giant pieces was because it obscured other's vision of him fron different angled everytime he brought one into play. Beyond that, there was one overarching reason why he decided to fight like this.

Because, otherwise, he'd lose for sure. Treating battle like a game was something he learned a long time ago, simply because it is more relaxing, not that he can truly relax, but it keeps him from becoming tense, or letting the overwhelming odds beat him. Battle was just as mental as it was physical, and a person who doubted his victory was destined to die. This was, simply put, his way of making the mental part of fighting more visible. Like a game of chess, you have to keep going, expend any pieces you have to, to protect the king, by any means necessary. For when the king is taken, the game is over, and your strategy has failed.. He was reminded that injury mattered just as much as capturing a piece in this game, however, when a shadow claw sliced across his side, sending him to his right, an energyball pawn firing off in the direction of the hit. He let out a breath, floating upwards again.

He took a brief sideglance towards Melanthios and Jax's fallen, before quickly going back to defending Jax's body, after being pushed away, and leading his way back with a bolt of lightning turned into a knight. He didn't bother paying attention to how many were left, he just went for the closest one. Perhaps not the best chess move, but this was more than just any old game.

 

[Necros]

OOC: Hope this post is alright. Also Rotrum, just so you're aware, Mel's Fallen isn't there with them, he's just somewhere in Sartaras.

Melanthios Malachi the Sableye
Sartaras, Victakan

Zydrax was in over his head. Melanthios could tell. It was obvious in every decision he made. Especially when he had ordered his subordinates to deal with Jax while he faced Melanthios alone, something that any idiot could have figured out was possibly the worst move he could make. Zydrax was utterly unintimidating and had no power over the Sableye, and Jax could stand a chance against the lesser Abyssals as he wasn’t so directly exposed to his Fallen’s influence. If he’d only switched his tactics around, so that he was attacking Jax and Melanthios was fighting the subordinates, he might have pulled through.

Nevertheless, Melanthios held off on attacking Zydrax straight away. The reason was simple, he wasn’t sure he could finish him off in one blow. If he attacked him and merely injured him, then Jax would also suffer and likely end up making a fatal mistake as a result, as he could tell the Lopunny was currently in a fight for his life. For the battle to be won and this ressurection to work, he had to make sure Zydrax died before Jax did.

Plus, it was immensely fun to watch the arrogant Fallen squirm and squeak in fear.

“Is that the best you have to offer, Zydrax?” cooed Melanthios, cackling wildly as he danced out of the way of several furious, panic induced kicks and punches. “Not good enough! Not nearly good enough at all~!”

He grinned, but his eyes narrowed and internally he was deathly serious. Jax had just pulled away from fighting a Scourge. Now was the time. Gathering up energy around his claws and opening his mouth, Melanthios prepared himself to massacre Zydrax. He was literally intending to bite and hack and slice and burn his way through the Lopunny’s body. Perhaps tear out his vital organs and throat all at once. Those fangs were sharp enough to pulverize gemstones after all, they should have no problem slicing through sinew and bone and flesh, no matter how foul and corrupt it tasted. That was literally how far Melanthios was willing to go to win. No, not to win. Zydrax wasn’t necessary to kill to win. Even staying in this battle wasn’t necessary to win. Melanthios could’ve taken advantage of the confusion to head straight to the Cathedral while the bulk of the enemy forces were positioned here. But he didn’t. He confronted an unnecessary danger head on for another’s sake entirely. A mere piece named Jax. And if his Master or his opponent didn’t like it, then too bad. This was his moment, his path to ascension, not theirs. He wouldn’t become like them. His ascension would be born out of a victory for everyone who struggled, not just his own personal escape from this prison.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Zydrax’s eyes widened as he looked into Melanthios’. Seeing the immense depths of those shimmering diamonds, the all-consuming abyss within them that put even the Abyss itself to shame. Seeing the willpower that stayed brightly burning even within that maelstrom of darkness, focused so intently on him. He wasn’t just going to die…he was going to be obliterated.

And then…tragedy struck.

Syrat, perhaps in his eagerness to prove useful, perhaps to truly repay the debt he owed to Jax, or even in just a fit of poorly timed bravery and determination, had launched himself onto Zydrax and stabbed him repeatedly. Melanthios could only watch as the Fallen Lopunny snapped out of his shock, snarled with fury, snatched the dagger out of his hand and turned it back on Syrat. The Sableye saw the little body go flying through the air as Zydrax tossed it irritably off of him. He saw a glimpse of the Pachirisu’s face, wide-eyed, open mouthed, the color slowly fading from him.

And he turned his gaze back on Zydrax.

There was something resembling a thunder boom that resounded across the entire area. It was unclear what caused it. It could have been Melanthios releasing a wave of energy to launch himself forward. It could have been Kawahira making his entrance as he made to defend Jax. Maybe the Doombringer Tank exploded further.

Zydrax didn’t know. He didn’t know because all he saw when he turned was those eyes and teeth gleaming an inch from his face.

And then he didn’t see anything more. He just felt.

***​

“Hoh.”

“Wow.”

It took quite a lot to surprise Ledumos and Necros. Yet the two Magi were staring down at the game board, their expressions fully attentive for the first time, neither smiling nor mocking.

They were…impressed.

***​

Melanthios stood quite still, breathing heavily. From head to toe, his body was utterly black, dripping thick gobs of gore from his fingertips. Corrupted blood ran down his form in small rivulets, spreading into a small puddle beneath him, the rest of what had been in Zydrax’s body strewn in every direction around what little was left of him.

To Melanthios, everything was utterly silent. The only things he heard were his own erratic heartbeat and the steady soft dripping of Zydrax’s blood from his body. Even Tariq’s message went in one ear and out the other, figuratively speaking.

There were a couple of Scourge that had retreated towards their Master when Kawahira appeared. These Scourge promptly halted and backed away from the Sableye in genuine fear, despite the fact he was completely vulnerable.

“H-h-h-hE fIgHtS mOrE tErRiFyInGLy tHaN aN AbYsSaL!”

“W-whAt iS hE?”

“M-MoNsTeR! MoNsTeRRRR!”

They shrieked and ran. Melanthios hadn’t reacted in the slightest.

He just stood there, gore drenched, seemingly paralyzed by shock. At his feet, the remains of Zydrax slowly evaporated, their existence having been denied. The blood was taking a bit more time to melt off of Melanthios’ form, but eventually it would be gone too. No trace of any of Zydrax would ever remain. The Fallen Lopunny had been obliterated completely.

Melanthios closed his eyes. He inhaled gently and then exhaled fully. He allowed his attention to venture outside of his own body. To begin to take in what was going on around him.

But he couldn’t quite do it yet. There was something so deeply rooted inside of him, so knotted up and twisted it was blocking his breath. His heart. His insides. He couldn’t move. Not until he’d gotten rid of it.

So he grinned. His bloodstained fangs gleamed white and black as his lips pulled back as widely as they could. He gripped at his stomach as he felt that blackness start to rise and spread through him.

“Khhhh…Kyeh…Kyehehehehehehe…Kyahahahahahahahahaha! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!”

And he laughed, and laughed, and laughed, growing louder and more wild with each breath, shrieking like a wild animal, throwing his head back and howling with unbridled emotion.

 

[Avenger Angel]

Jax the Lopunny
Sartaras, Victakan

Stab. Kill. Exhale. I was literally using my last moments of life to slaughter the Abyss, an action that I knew in time would mean nothing as they revived again like the damn travesty of an army they were. It was pathetic how freely they were allowed to fail and suffer barely noticeable consequences.

And then... Kawahira the Mismagius appeared.

"Thundara, Firaga, Doom," was all he muttered as a Thunderwave attack jumped from one Scourge to another, leaping through the Cohorts of Chaos as fiery will-o-wisps smothered them with consuming, purple flames. Then, a burning pain shot through the rest of them, the Hex that Kawahira insinuated was "doom." It was an entrance that could be appreciated, although it made me obviously feel like less of a warrior.

Following that, he used a Heal Bell, which, for the most part, barely didn't anything. Really only the burns on my hands were healed. But it wasn't long before he was attacked, and had the join the rest of us in the killing frenzy of the undead. He saved my ass, but I wasn't keen on saying anything about it. For all we knew, we might have just been delaying the inevitable.

Zydrax, as it seemed, underestimated Mel. If there was anything I knew about my own Fallen, he was arrogant, over-flushed with pride and haughtiness that I admitted was my stumbling block. He had sent his legions after me thinking Mel was just another puppet in the way. As I could sense, Mel was nearly laughing about his oversight, and that if he had gone after me and sent the legions on him instead, the outcome would have been different. But apparently to Zydrax, he thought the outcome would be exactly the same.

I saw it played out in his mind. He imagined himself eviscerating Mel, and letting his legion of dogs on me, leaving me in a near-death state. When the fight was all over and Syrat and Mel were dead, he'd look over me and laugh, laugh because I lost and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. He wanted to play with my hopelessness. It was something every bastard Fallen enjoyed to do, and Zydrax wouldn't be without it. All before he hijacked my essence and kicked me out of the driver's seat. In his mind, all of that... the pain, the agony, the dark victory... it was orgasmic...

But then came the sound of rolling thunder, an explosion that I never really got to see what it was, where it came from, or whatever. In seconds, I saw only a cyclone, a lacerating whirlwind of all-consuming destruction that spared nothing. Nothing, as it tore apart the wind with its violet and black anomalies and distortions.

If this was how it was all meant to end, I figured I could at least be satisfied it was from something respectable in force and power. As Zydrax was rapidly chopped into tiny, more manageable pieces, I never thought pain and agony in such rapid succession could be so... numbing. Because it was nearly a nirvana when it was all over with.

* * *​

Zydrax... was reduced to nothing but black goo that slithered off of Mel's body. As it seemed, Zydrax's arrogance was his downfall, a mistake that the Abyss was guilty of making quite often. I was... lucky they were still making that idiotic mistake. Because I didn't want to imagine how differently this would have played out if that wasn't the case, and Zydrax would have skipped the games and nonsense to just infest my body and soul the second the opportunity opened, which was ages ago. Instead, he wanted to play this out like some kind of tragic, macabre story, only in the end, he wasn't the winner like he thought he was.

And while Zydrax had been obliterated into liquefied pieces, I had been reborn... sinless, angelic even. An... elite of Utopia... a Paladin, even though I didn't know squat about the place or had even seen it. Instead, I had become pure, my now white fur resembling how "clean and unsullied" I had become, physically and spiritually. Two white, angelic wings now outstretched from my back, all while a soft and radiating glow emanated from me. In a world so ravaged with darkness, it was literally the feeling of like being the one candle flame in a dark room when all the other lights went out.

And then, what I heard was... oddly profound...

"H-h-h-hE fIgHtS mOrE tErRiFyInGLy tHaN aN AbYsSaL!”

“W-whAt iS hE?”

“M-MoNsTeR! MoNsTeRRRR!”

They fled for their dark souls as Mel stood there, splattered with gore, just smiling and relishing the moment. But as all traces of Zydrax slowly vaporized into nothing, he just grinned. For the first time, the Abyss had suddenly learned how bitter fear was. And as they gorged on their first taste of demoralization, Melanthios Malachi laughed, screaming and shrieking with delight that was both glorious and disturbing at the same time. As if the dark nightmare had become a beloved fantasy, even though nothing about this dark mirror had changed anything.

I stood up from the ground, reborn again, suddenly free from the temptation of being a greedy jackass. Really, money... what worth was money now? It was almost laughable. And this, as I realized, as the realty of Utopia. Upon becoming a Paladin, I had seen nothing in Utopia, but I grasped the meaning of it all. Nirvana came with the feeling of purity, and desiring nothing else because to you now, it made earthly things seem pathetic in comparison. All the lavish, material desires were nothing if you were still an obese pig far too ugly and disgusting to be admired. I was literally reborn to just outright despise evil, and send it all screaming back into the pit where it slithered out from.

I had walked to Syrat's body, and sensed he was on the verge of death. Compelled, my first action as a Paladin was reviving him, holding him in my paws, drawing his soul back to his mortal shell, and saving him from becoming one of them. I carefully removed the dagger that had been so forcefully rammed into his chest, and using my new abilities, closed the wounds, and healed the damage. Suddenly, he gasped back into life, as if breathing in new air after being close to drowning.

"Oh ho... holy crap!" Syrat exclaimed, suddenly opening his eyes and looking at me. "Jax where... holy... what on earth happened to you!?"

"He's dead," I told the Pachirisu, setting him on the ground. "Or more like... gone, really. Mel... not sure what he did, but there wasn't enough left of Zydrax to even bury him in a lunchbox. As for me... no longer having a Fallen... feels like it's the best thing that's ever happened to me in this cesspool."

And Syrat turned to the Sableye, still laughing, still relishing the moment as the Abyss's warriors were far off in the distance now, feeling for their souls.

“Khhhh…Kyeh…Kyehehehehehehe…Kyahahahahahahahahaha! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!”

Syrat's eyes grew wide as the screams of laughter echoed throughout Sartaras, piercing the night. For a moment, he questioned if it was really safe... or if Mel had completely lost his grip on sanity. It could have meant anything for all he knew...

But from what I could sense, the Abyss had suddenly realized the severity of the situation. As an Indigo Seer and a Paladin, I was suddenly aware of everything the Abyss was doing on Talandra and even in the dark realm of the infernal underworld itself. If only Mel, Kawahira, and Syrat could see it now. It was simply... sick. Deranged. Twisted.

The situation was worse than they thought. Even as the Magi at their game table stared in awe at what Mel had done, the Abyss had done the same, realizing how dangerous the Indigo Seers truly were. And now, they had one that had become an Utopian Paladin, the spearhead of the thorn in their side, and a serious danger to releasing Utopia's battalions upon Talandra... and everywhere else the Abyss was hoping to infest.

"uP tHE aNTE," Meiun, the Fallen of Lugia, commanded. "DeVOuR tHEir HopE. TeLL... NoxAN aND ScYAsTA tO JoIN mE. I wILL nOT hAVe tHE AbYSS's LeGIOnS FlEE fROm MeRE MorTAlS!"

Like twin thunderbolts, the dark, shadow entities of Noxan and Scyasta sliced through the fabric of realty, two twin dragons born from the boiling pits of the Abyss. Noxan... the Fallen of Latios, and Scyasta, the Fallen of Latias, the SIBLINGS OF SORROW. Meiun, it seemed, was completely unwilling to allow us to get anywhere even close to the Cathedral to Corruption. For he knew the stakes were now high, and the hope of the resistance was higher than he would have liked. Mel was an unknown fury to him, a fury that could not be allowed to exist any longer. And I was Utopia's agent, the only one they had beyond the barrier that kept them contained. They only needed one, just one, and the rain would come down on his parade like there was no tomorrow.

And they were that fast. Before long, Noxan and Scyasta were already in the air above us, followed by their commander...

Meiun himself.

As I opened my eyes, I saw them before me, yet felt no fear or hesitation.

The ground shook, the land twisted, and the air grew foul and fetid as the massive, Fallen Lugia slammed his blackened, soul-slicing talons into the Talandran ground, which grew macabre and black. His black wings were fully spread like light-consuming shadows of pain and agony, while his head and face resembled the traumatizing nightmare of a laughing, toothy grin of sadistic anarchy that never leaves an innocent child's memories, a horror they hold for life. Everything about the first of the two leaders of the Cohorts of Chaos was foul, furious, and horrid.

Besides the hulking abomination that resembled all of Lugia's darkest sins, Noxan and Scyasta floated besides him, two dark dragons that resembled nothing but ceaseless woe and sorrow, the very opposite of the cheer and optimism shared by the two eon Pokémon. Their draconic bird-like bodies were black and gray, as if all the color and life had been squeezed and strangled out of the two siblings. Around them, all trembled and despaired as dark, almost vacant stares of lifelessness painted the picture of two faces that not only never knew joy or happiness, but sought only to flush it away and send it screaming under the tide of sadness, woe, and never-ending grief.

Meiun, the Fallen Lugia, then looked down upon us and smiled. And for one dark moment, he saw a fresh harvest of souls... a banquet for the abominations.

"I aM thE dARk SoNG tHaT SiNGs oF yOUr NoW dEAD CRUsAde," Meiun laughed, sounding even more horrid than even Mel's previous shrieks of delight. "SaY YoUR fiNaL EPiTApH beFoRE I mAKe YoU aLL ChoKE oN UnHOly PuKE!!"

Meiun's taunts were followed by the monotone, hollow voices of Noxan and Scyasta. Even more disturbingly, they weren't deranged like the rest of the Abyss's, but seemed to be harnessed out of the pure hopelessness of all as everyone's woe.

"They have no place, they have no face..." Noxan and Scyasta spoke in unison as their hollow voices sent chilling feelings into everything and everyone around them. "For they accept the choking hand of doom, a promise of ending the mild agony for an unending, perfect plunge into darkness...

...it will play out again...

...they melt into woe...

...and they become a part of the dark city, the building blocks of agony... the cruelest of fates..."

...

The Abyss, it seemed, truly hated losing. And I could see where they fell into the escalation of commitment. They kept playing the game until they won, and made each loss seem like it was meant to be a bait and switch in the first place. Because as it stood, the way they wrote the rules, it wasn't so much as a game as it was a theatrical performance where they decided how the acts played out, and what the end of this tragedy truly was...

It was what I hated most about them...

 

[Tasslehoff]

Kraxel the Bisharp
Scarwell, Azmarax


"Kraxel, get up!" Tariq said to Kraxel, "We can't do this without you either! You're the one who's best at seeing things in the shadows!...Just...try not to be afraid,"

“Haha, that’s a good one Tariq, I’ll work on overcoming magically-induced fears,” I laughed sarcastically.

Overcoming the pain I had in my wrist, and now in the shoulder of the same arm, I walked over to Tariq, searching for Zoroki in the night streets of the square we were in, laughter broke out all around us.

“KyyWWhhahaHHHahahHHaaAAAaAa, KrraaAAaxxXxxeLLll, TTtaaarRRRiiiQQQq, do YOuu reallLLly HooPPPeeeEEE to DeefeaT meEeeHHHh! IIIiii AamMMm theEE ProteCCtor of the ParCChhhMMennnTTTsss, the one the AbyssssSSSs tRRussstsSSS to GuuuAArdDD the TiiiDDDeeEEEsSSS of this WaaarrRRRR!!!”

Remembering a seer ability that I had found when I committed my great heists, I enhanced my vision to see heat signatures, everything gave off some form of heat, Zoroki was no exception to this. Searching the area, I looked in the most obvious places, the alley ways, not seeing anything in any of them, I looked scanned the windows of the buildings, still nothing.

“Tariq, I can’t find him, I can not see any signs of heat signatures, other than our own, in this whole area. Despite him being a shadowy form, there should be at least negative signs of heat, where it is colder than the places around it.”

The fear was still lingering in the air, because of this; I knew Zoroki was still in the area, just hiding. He was a great tactician, he lured planned this whole invasion, destroyed most of Scarwell, and has the upper hand in this battle.

“Kraxel, you know I am right, there is no hope of defeating me, embrace the Abyss, rise to the glory you have sought for so many years. Why do you distrust me so? I have been with you since birth, in your mind! When WE killed your parents, when WE killed the gang, I have kept you strong, I led you here! IT IS YOUR DUTY TO REPAY ME!!!”

These mind attacks started getting more intense, parts of my mind was breaking; was it true? The evidence seemed so logical, evil thoughts have always protected me since the deed of killing my parents, with the voice in my mind since childhood, has Zoroki really been shadowing my whole life, making his plans slowly, tactfully; leading to this scenario?

“Zoroki, I will never embrace you!”

“This is your choice; now watch your friends die! Experience hell!”

Two screams were let out behind me; they were the soldiers that had followed me to this spot. I just stood there in complete fearful awe, gazing at the gruesome, bloodied bodies that I looked upon. Zoroki had plunged his bladed hands through the back of each of the ‘mons head’s with a claw coming out of each eye socket; the worse part was, they were still alive, he pulled his hands out of their head, and the now zombied ‘mons started to attack us.

“Tariq! We have another problem!”

I was about to rush the two newly Abyss soldiers, but Zoroki charged me, and he and I flew through the wall of a nearby building. After the aftershock of the charge, I came to find Zoroki, leaning over me, licking the blades on his hands.

“AAAHhhHHH KrrraAAXXeeElll, your BlloodDD tastEEsSS, OOrrGGaaSSmmIICCC!!! I HHaaaavvveEE never TasteDDdd such A tasTTtee in Myyy lIIffeee!!! Kywhaha!!!”

Searching myself over, two gaping holes were in my abdomen, bleeding all over the floor, I couldn’t even pull myself up. Breathing heavily and just laying on the floor, I tried to concentrate on the spinning world around me.

“AhhhHHAaaHHaa Kraxel, how does IIttt FFeeeell To know ThhAAttt you Areee gGOoiiiNNNggg toooo DDIiiiieee?!”

“Haha quite amusing actually Zoroki, there’s one thing you cannot predict, you know I will come after you after I wake up in the Abyss!” I struggled to say, hoping that my taunt had at least shaken him down alittle, I needed all the time I could gain right now.

“ThhhaaatttsSSS soomMMeee BrraAAveEE woorrddDDsss Kraxel, If only SoommmeEEonnEE was here to Write ThemmM down.”

Still focusing, I watched as Zoroki seemed to hesitate for a brief second, then a disappointed look came across his face; my guess, I was assuming I was going to live to see another day. I drifted out of consciousness, before I was out though; I felt a sharp pain course through my body, starting from my arm. I let out an excruciating shout, and blacked out from the amount of pain.

********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
A few seconds ago, in the viewpoint of Zoroki

“ThhhaaatttsSSS soomMMeee BrraAAveEE woorrddDDsss Kraxel, If only SoommmeEEonnEE was here to Write ThemmM down.”

“Zoroki! Do not waste time with Kraxel, this plot of your own can wait! Get to Minacen as quick as you can! A Utopian Paladin is now in Sartaras, and I am sure they will go after to Parchments of Fate next! Protect the parchments with your life! This is your new orders!”

“Yes Meuin! Your timing is quite, unfortunate… but the Parchments are a high priority, I will be back in Minacen soon; however, it is clear Kraxel will follow me, and I am sure his companion, Tariq will follow him.”

“Then kill both in Minacen, your disappointment is no bother to me, I am your colonel and you will obey me!”

“Not for long Meuin, it has come to my attention that Zaiaku and Xov are finding new favorites among us Fallen, and they are finding an interest in me, and soon Zoroki will strike fear among even the Utopians!”

“Well for now Zoroki, you still serve me!!!!!!”

Our conversation ended, and not wanting to piss off Meuin more than I already had, besides of the amusement I have from his fear of me rising to any actual form of power among the legions of the Abyss, I would still obey his commands, it would please Zaiaku in the end.

“WWWeeeelLLLL Kraxel, iTT appPPEeEearrSS you HavVVeee BeeeNNN sppPaarRReeDD by my MasTTeerSSS! HeRRReeE is A PartIInngGG giFFTTTttt.”

I walked over to Kraxel, grabbed his injured arm, dislocated it at the shoulder, shoved his elbow the other way hyper-extending it, breaking his wrist backwards, and destroying his fingers. He let out a scream of pain, a scream I was shocked that any mortal could actually utter. It was quite amusing; the orgasmic sensation of my fleshy rival in extreme pain was beyond any form of happiness I could feel.

I ran up a nearby staircase, sprint across the rooftops of Scarwell, and dematerialized and rematerialized in my throne room in Minacen.

 

[strategiser24]

Tariq the Archeops
Scarwell, Azmarax

Tariq watched as Zoroki stabbed and brutally broke his arm. Tariq gave chase as Zoroki retreated, but Tariq proved to be the lesser as he disappeared from sight. Returning to Kraxel, he slung on his back as he flew him with haste back to the Palace. There, activity had began to pick up as wounded were being brought back; victory had come, but at a high cost. The siege started with their entire defense army, but now, they'd been reduced to less than half. Had Tariqq not taken control of the AByss's flight units, there would've been none. That result was clearly expressed by the casualties returning by the hundreds. Now, more than ever, everyone knew they couldn't keep fighting a defensive war. Their victory will mean nothing unless they can use the time they've bought to gain the upper hand: the hand of Utopia.

Taking Kraxel to the inside of the Palace, Tariq laid Kraxel's unconscious self over a make=shift hospital bed. He was still breathing, and his heart was at a relatively normal pace. Thankfully, the major wound Zoroki inflicted was shock, and how Kraxel acted before he was knocked unconscious definitely displayed that. Taking some of the medical supplies from his bag, Tariq stopped most of the bleeding in Kraxel's chest, but his grossly disfigured arm was what he was most concerned about. Zoroki had dislocated most of the joints, not broken them, they could be treated...at least, Tariq hoped this was the case. "You," Tariq said to a passing Chancey, "I need help, can you treat his stab wounds?"

The Chancey quickly agreed and went to find some bandages. Surveying Kraxel's arm, trying to figure out where to start, the Chancey returned and began the process of cleaning and bandaging Kraxel's wounds. Taking a deep breath, Tariq reached for Kraxel's arm. "I'd be careful if I were you," the Chancey warned, "If he breaks into consciousness, he might react...in a unique way..."

"He's just had to fight his Dark Side, he lost, and he might be having violent dreams," Tariq answered, "...Yes, he's probably going to stab me if I'm not cautious,"

Tariq took Kraxel's arm and straightened it parralel to his body. The points were the joints had been dislocated were clearly shown by the disfigurement Zoroki had done. Taking his upper arm, Tariq aligned it with Kraxel's shoulder, and began rotating it 90 degrees, gradually working it back into place. After time had passed, Tariq heard a discrete sound as Kraxel's upper arm reattached to his shoulder. Taking his elbow and wrist, he repeated the same proces; luckily, since Kraxel was unconcious, the pain he would've felt would've been much worse if he was conscious, if he was feeling any pain at all in his current state. After making several more careful movements, Kraxel's arm had been fully relocated, looking like little had been done to him, but things were not over yet. "He might need to not use that arm for a while as it heals...thankfully, our next 'endeavour' shouldn't force him to use it," Tariq said to the Chancey.

Sitting next to Kraxel's unconcious body, Tariq waited for him to wake up as Seryl entered the room. "I'm guessing you didn't make it in time?" he asked.

"I probobly stopped his Fallen from killing him, but I could've made it earlier," Tariq replied, concerned about how Kraxel was going to be when he awakes.

"Everything comes at a price," Seryl said, "You may have come late, but you were able to make the discovery in Sartaras with the Golden Ratio,"

"I suppose you're right...but that could've been done later," Tariq answered, "...Once he's able to travel, I'll take him to Snowpooint Fortress on the north coast; even he realizes that we can't keep fighting forever like this: We need help"

Waiting for a long ten minutes, Tariq's patience wore thin as he waited for Kraxel to regain conciousness. Hopefully, he's still strong like he was before Zoroki attacked him. .

 

[Necros]

Melanthios Malachi the Sableye
Sartaras, Victakan

It took a long time for Melanthios to calm down to the point where he could be considered rational again. Even then, his movements seemed slow, his words carefully deliberated, as if it took him several seconds to make any sort of decision at all, physical or mental. He stumbled towards Jax, Syrat and Kawahira as if in a trance, still chuckling softly to himself in a slightly unhinged way. Those eyes of his displayed his inner conviction though, looking over both of them with gratitude and happiness.

“Heh…Look at you, mister Paladin!” he grinned at Jax. “Looks like he fixed you up nice and proper…heheheh…and you…you’d make a good Magus,” he said almost drunkenly to Kawahira.

Melanthios was dimly aware of Syrat looking at him in apprehension, but he honestly could care less at the moment. Jax seemed to be staring at him with a newfound appreciation as well as some measure of pity. Perhaps with such a clean soul now, he could sense the maddening duality of Melanthios’ blackened soul yet utterly pure heart. His fragmented existence. And his desperate desire to break free from it.

Then he suddenly became aware that they weren’t exactly alone anymore. Turning again after a brief moment, he saw Meiun, Scyasta and Noxan arrive before them, the Fallen Lugia slamming into the ground, smugly glaring down at them while the two others floated by his sides. Melanthios, along with the others, was treated to a full dose of despair and woe simply from the presence of these three Fallen…but it seemed not to affect him much at all. To be sure, he wasn’t flinging back ridicule at them, but neither did he seem particularly uncomfortable amidst the tide of hope crushing influence.

“I aM thE dARk SoNG tHaT SiNGs oF yOUr NoW dEAD CRUsAde. SaY YoUR fiNaL EPiTApH beFoRE I mAKe YoU aLL ChoKE oN UnHOly PuKE!!”

Meiun proclaimed this quite proudly, even though there was a slight twitch of annoyance in the fact that he was reaching, at most, two of the four mortals assembled. Jax had become too pure to succumb to such taunts, and Melanthios seemed to be paying attention to something else entirely.

“Epitaph, huh? How did that go? ‘My beloved hometown, the sweetfish river running through it. You who seek the Golden Land…’ oh. Whoops. Wrong game. Kyehehehehehe…See what I did there? It’s <good>, isn’t it? Tell me it’s good. Go on, indulge yourselves, have a laugh!”

Noxan and Scyasta just kept droning on with their monotone dutifully, but Meiun was having a hard time concealing his irritation. The Sableye in particular was grating against his nerves. He wasn’t taking them seriously. He was acting like an utter lunatic…or perhaps he was just completely detached from reality…but no, he was responding in a way. What was he trying to accomplish? Was he afraid? Was he trying to laugh off fear? Was he trying to make himself out to be stronger than he looked? After all, there was no possible way he had much fight left in him after using all that energy up in destroying Zydrax…was there?

“Mild agony, they say. Mild agony. Hah! You don’t even know the meaning of the word!”

Melanthios didn’t sound so spaced out anymore. Meiun’s eyes narrowed. This wild Seer was up to something. He could feel it.

“What is it you consider agony, you three? Physical pain? Torture? Or perhaps you’re a bit more philosophical than that. You go for concepts like mental pain…the agony of loss? Am I getting warmer? Oh please tell me if I am. I do like to understand the significance of my opponents’ taunts if I can.”

This was insane. There was no point to any of this. Why were they wasting time letting him talk back to them? He was just a desperate mortal trying to cling to whatever he could that would keep him alive. Meiun knew it. He’d heard it before. Anything and everything was said just to keep life intact. It’s what was so disgusting about mortal creatures.

And yet…why was he so calm? Was he suicidal? Was that what this was about? No matter which way Meiun tried to reason Melanthios out, he just kept running into contradiction after contradiction. Even the act of wiping out this one single little Sableye made him pause. What if that’s what he wanted him to do? It didn’t make sense, none of this made any sense, why was it confusing him so mu-

The Fallen Lugia barely twisted his head out of the way in time. A nasty blast of dark and ghost energy went sailing through where his eye was only seconds before. Hissing in fury for nearly being distracted into making a mistake, Meiun roared and lunged, intending to make Melanthios pay for his arrogance…

Except Melanthios wasn’t there anymore. Meiun glanced around wildly, trying to find him, cursing the crazed little ghost’s uncanny ability to duck past his psychic senses. It was just his luck the unpredictable one also had to be the one with the type advantage against him. Still, he doubted whether Melanthios could do any damage to him at all.

“I’m curious, Meiun. What sins exactly has Lugia committed?”

The Fallen Lugia stiffened. That voice was coming from right behind him. No, it was coming from on him. The Sableye was sitting on the back of his long neck.

“Oh I’m sure there’s a long list of things you could spout out. Killed some people for trespassing too far into his ocean territory? Maybe caused a bit of devastation when he got too overenthusiastic with his power? Something like that, I imagine.”

“InSoLeNt bUg! LeT gO oF mE aT oNcE!!!” thundered Meiun, thrashing around, trying to throw Melanthios off of him…who ironically wasn’t doing anything but just holding on to him and talking.

“See, that’s the funny thing about sinning,” Melanthios continued calmly, even as his voice sometimes shook with the thrashing neck he was gripping. “It all really depends on how you look at it. Lets say, hypothetically, that the Lugia you came from ended up wiping out an entire village, costing hundreds of lives. Surely a sin worthy of a powerful Abyssal, a mighty Fallen. But now, look at it this way. Suppose that the same village was guilty of the slaughter of all of Lugia’s children. Suddenly, there’s a dilemma. Is it a sin because he is merely taking revenge? Or is it what the righteous call ‘justice’?”

“StOp TaLkInG!” Meiun roared again, completely beside himself with rage towards the little, insignificant Pokémon that continued to cling and whisper to him.

“Let’s disregard that situation for the time being. Suppose the village was completely innocent. Suppose Lugia, in a moment of madness or grief or overwhelming emotion, lost control. He snapped and managed to wipe out an entire village before his rationality returned. Did he still commit a sin? Even though he wasn’t aware of his actions? Even though he had no control over himself?”

“GeT oFf! GeT oFf, GeT oFf, GeT oFfFfFfFfF!!!!” shrieked the Fallen Lugia, suddenly taking to the skies.

Melanthios clung to his neck for dear life, his claws digging into that dark feathery flesh, probably even piercing it a bit. Meiun kept trying to shake him off, spiraling and twisting through the air, but the Sableye was stubborn and wouldn’t let go. He also wasn’t in a position where the Fallen Lugia could just slam his body against something and hope it crushed the Sableye, as the neck was too vital an area to expose to large amounts of trauma. Perhaps, if he’d been thinking clearly, he might have flown towards the sea and plunged down into it so as to drown the other, but Melanthios’ words had the effect of completely driving out all rational thought.

As for Melanthios’ grand plan…there really wasn’t one. He wasn’t a match for any of these Fallen in the state he was in now, and he knew it. The most he could do right now was serve as a distraction, get their attention to focus on him rather than the very real threat of the newly ascended Jax. He had no idea whether Noxan and Scyasta owed any loyalty to their commander, but hopefully the incident would at least give them pause before they attacked the other three.

Besides, standing back and letting the others take the spotlight while he recovered just wasn’t his thing.

“Shall I tell you, Meiun? Shall I tell you what true sin really is?” he called, cackling as they sped round and round the sky above Sartaras. “Go on! Ask me! Ask me! Ask meeeeeee! Kyahahahahahahahahahahaha!”