Summary:Phoenix and Lucent prepare a plan for their last-ditch assault on Abadis.

XP:L1, P1


< Rotting and Death | Sol Invictus Logs | Unfelicitous Behaviors >

A whole side of the Imperial Mountain ripped away, its stone pulverized into dust, a dark grey cloud hangs over the entire world, the sunlight filtered into a faint and sickly sheen, the blue sky turned dusky orange.

In the cloud of the wreckage, the figure stands: on its own, the elegant outline of a knight errant, standing a thousand feet tall against the orange sky, the tiny details that reveal the dread truth invisible in silhouette, the vast cape knitted of the skins of the dead flowing on a breeze that the living cannot feel in the dead air that surrounds him:

Abadis, awoken but (as yet) still quiescent, not yet taking to battle.

"Mela's virgin asshole," Verbena swears.

Phoenix` tilts her head. "You should reread the sacred texts."

Lucent "Incorrect." Lucent points to the creature, adressing the Solars without looking at them. "Are you prepared to lay down your lives in defense of Creation?"

The expressions covering the faces of the young Solars vary quite a bit. Arathi seems undaunted, perhaps even overeager; Nesula resolved -- one memory too many, perhaps, of past misdeeds driving her forth now -- and distant-eyed; Verbena biting her lip in slightly irritated uncertainty at how best to approach a seemingly insoluble problem;

Swift Falcon looks like he's swallowed a bug -- or perhaps more than one -- while the strange newcomer Nine Dark Thunders remains utterly unreadable.

"It is the honor of all servants of the Deliberative to perish in pursuit of ultimate justice," Arathi says, the air quotes indicating its "literary" origins almost audible in his pronunciation.

(Verbena clearly isn't quite as excited about the possibility of impending martyrdom.)

Lucent glances at Verbena, noticing the similarities... then turns back to Abadis. "Good enough."

Lucent "Creature. If you can understand us, we are here to burn you from the face of Creation. You have no right to exist."

When he had been the Daykeeper, a lifetime ago, the great beast had heeded the words of the denizens of the Blessed Isle, being certain never to step upon even the tiniest soul; but now, whether Abadis understands or not, all that Lucent hears in response is the slow, steady sound of raspy breathing, as the hekaton's massive chest heaves up and down fruitlessly in a mockery of all that lives.

Lucent "Well, now. Verbena, you are a Sorceress. What is the most destructive thing you can do?"

Verbena stares upwards as she does some calculations on her fingers, and then after a moment switches to using her orichalcum chalk to write cryptic notes on the air. "There's the Jagged Precipice of Aching Souls," she says, keeping one eye on Abadis even as she does her calculations, "or the Rending of Ages."

There's a glimmer of jealousy -- associating with masters of Third Circle spells like Zahara and Varanim is bound to stir some up in someone as competitive as Verbena.

Lucent "Assume for a moment that I have better things to do than pour into books to learn what each and every fancy dreary-sounding spell DOES. And that, for instance, I would prefer not to tell you to use a Spell that would happen to sear the flesh from the bones of Phoenix if she finds herself in melee with Abadis. Contrary to popular opinion, the name is not THAT accurate."

"Let me make it simpler, then: the former, unless you consider the risk of accidentally aging five hundred years in a single moment less threatening than possibly opening a chasm that drops us twenty miles into the Earth, in which case, the latter."

Lucent "Is the former going to be of any use against something that is very much DEAD and AGELESS?"

"Oh sure. The blast of raw, glistening life energy is the real important part. The aging is just a side effect."

Lucent "Perfect. We will go with the latter, then the former after we have the abomination pinned."

Lucent "Arathi, Nesula, Falcon, are you able to do anything other than hitting it until it stops moving?"

"Not... in any particularly grand manner of speaking, no," Arathi says.

Lucent glares at Nesula "You CAN burn with sacred fire, at least, or did you let fashionable cynism blind you to your SINGLE MOST IMPORTANT SKILLSET?"

She shields her eyes and looks up at the horrible creature, still elegant in silhouette. "That I can," she says. "That I will."

Lucent nods. "Good. What of the newcomer?"

Nine Dark Thunders raises one hand and clenches it into a fist, where it becomes ringed with dark flames. "I will do what I can," he says.

Phoenix` is quietly holding a conference with !Hu and the other wasps. "In the interest of their continued existence and the Pharmacopoeia of Creation, the wasps have agreed to lend their direst aid."

Lucent "Cute." He reponds Thunders, nodding to Phoenix. "Give them my most humble thanks."

Lucent "So, here is what we are going to do. Verbena is going to place him in a chasm. I shall proceed to throw..." He turns around, looking at the rocky formations around them, until his eyes catch sight of an extremely jagged peak. "... THAT mountain on him. At that moment, when he is pinned, we must all strike. That includes the aging. Phoenix, Nesula, Arathi, we are to strike at his heart."

Lucent "Crow, call the forces. Lead them to charge together with the remaining Solars. You are to kill his Horse. Their lanterns will be reflecting my light." He shines as bright as possible, enveloping them, separating them from the world. They were part of HIS Creation now. "That will allow them to strike like Nesula. And he cannot cut the air that I protect. He cannot just kill you all with one fell swoop while you are under this light."

Lucent "Verbena. You are to attempt to age Abadis alone, not his horse. And do so until your will is gone. And then some. Worry about breaking him. I will be there to protect you. He will go through me to kill even a single soul."

Lucent "Questions?"

"Yeah," Verbena says. "Are you expecting any of us to live through this plan?"

Phoenix` "A moment," Phoenix murmurs, and a cloak of Essence settles about her. When she is but a flickering silhouette carrying in each hand a white-gold corona of dancing sunlight, she nods. "I await your word to strike."

Phoenix` To Verbena, "Of course he is. Lucent is always the paragon of the positive viewpoint. I, personally, will be pleasantly surprised and proud."

Lucent "Yes. You are not here to die."

Lucent "I am."

Verbena swallows loudly. "I suppose we'd best get to it, then."

< Rotting and Death | Sol Invictus Logs | Unfelicitous Behaviors >

Page last modified on July 04, 2009, at 01:17 AM