EVENT #6: BY HEAVEN OR HELL (WRAP-UP)

[aionmods]

By Heaven or Hell

THE SNARE (cw: gore)

Above Achamoth, blow after brutal blow is rained down upon the Sanctifier. It's fiery wings have been drowned by the abyssal waters of Childe's corrupted voyager, and its chest torn open by the Regent's power. Though it tries to flee, it is assailed from all sides, tearing away scales and burning flesh, its eyes blinded with blood and infection. Even its roar has been torn, the damage to its throat leaving its thundering voice strangled and broken. As Childe's lance drives through the top of its skull and out the bottom of its jaw, it seems that its demise must be imminent.

Yet, this is a creature of the Pleroma. Fueled by a force that fights for life at all costs, the Sanctifier is denied an easy rest. Fitting, perhaps, that its host refuse just as vehemently. Within this ravaged body, Estinien Wyrmblood still struggles, even as each breath is choked by blood and blinding pain. He refuses. He's not ready to be mourned. He's not ready for the fight to end. Himeka, Abel, Hayame... he'd told them... he'd told them he would stay by their side...

On faltering wings, the Sanctifier makes a final effort. The Pleroma responds to Estinien's resolve, and the fire within it ignites in a desperate burst, driving it to escape this city and defend its comrades. Estinien will feel his soul seared with the intensity of his wish, burning him up in the overwhelming light of this undying sun. All the while, the power of the Innocence holds his spirit close, as if hoping to shield him from what is to come. It pleads with him to relent, as it knows this course, and he will not return the same.

With that surge of light, it seem for a moment that the Sanctifier may actually accomplish it, that its wings might ferry it away from the shadows that bite at its heels. However, it's not to be. Not with the trap that's been set, but he Kenoma and their master.

Darkness swells at six points around the city. Six void-dark spears, deposited by the Regent's most trusted followers, activate as the Regent aims their final shot. Six rays of the abyss pierce Achamoth's sky, each one piercing through the Sanctifier's core, stopping its desperate effort before it can truly begin. Though the bolts of darkness seem to stretch for for miles at first, gradually the blur of shadow fades, resolving in the great dragon's body run through by spikes of purest Kenoma. The Sanctifier crumbles, the light of its form dissolving, one last broken cry of agony escaping.

The arrangement of spears holds true with the shift of its form, and as the light of the Pleroma leaves him, instead there is only Estinien. Instead of a colossal dragon, one man bears the wounds of the Sanctifier, his torso ravaged by the spears piercing it and the Regent's power, held in place despite the futile twitches of his battered wings. Just as the Sanctifier was missing a claw, he is missing a finger, and blood pours from his forehead where a lance just was, down through the bottom of his mouth. Ichor drains from one brutalized eye, the other opened wide with shock despite its visible pains.

Estinien tries to speak, but cannot. His hands struggle to pry a spear free from his chest, but he finds no purchase. His broken body hangs above the city for several seconds, as if on display, before an orb of void envelopes him and he disappears.

A FINAL BENISON

After the agonizing end of the Sanctifier, the presence of the Innocence will linger around the spirits of the Pleroma for a short time, as if allowed to disperse in the absence of the creature it was sustaining. There is a mournful weight to its essence, and softly, the Pleroma will hear it speak:

I failed... I have failed you... Again...

The presence is already beginning to fade, but those already touched by the Innocence will feel its power flare up within them, like a new candle lit from one almost burned to its end.

Please... do not despair... continue on... and find the peace I could not give you...

With that it goes silent, disappearing along with its host.

[OOC: Several characters will be receiving PMs regarding this.]

REGENT'S REPRISAL

The protective light of the Sanctifier fades, and the Pleroma will find themselves prematurely awash in a furious Achamoth, their enemies having multiplied from from a mere two dozen Aions to hundreds, if not thousands of Horosians. The military, having been rendered helpless for most of this struggle, are eager to pick up the slack, firing with what offensive magic they hold and alchemy enhanced weaponry. Even civilians, furious and humiliated by what they perceive as Pleroma tricks, will begin to lash out, throwing what improvised weapons they might have and shouting abuse; anything to help destroy these invaders.

The shadows of the city, having been swelling since the beginning of the Sanctifier's fall, will seem to chase the Pleroma through the streets. Like violent ghosts, specters of darkness pursue them, lashing out with intangible claws that feel like shocks of cold torment. Sometime, they may even land small physical blows, like claw marks and bruises left by unseen spirits. These malformed spirits shriek with suffering and discontent, but only Aions seem to perceive them. Those with Tier 2 attunements will have the clearest gaze of ethereal forms, like the wretched, half remembered remains of people and creatures long past.

FROM THE SKIES

As the void swallows Estinien, Seekers & Visionaries of both sects are hit with a series of images flashing through their mind; thick green forests, a tall mountain sitting apart, a golden eye barely concealed by smoke. Red scaled lids close once only to sharply pull back as the eye widens swallows all around it. The vision fades in an instant.

A chorus of unfamiliar roars and screeches echo across the Citadel. Where one dragon once stood, dozens now swarm the air above the gathered Aions. These dragons appear in all sizes and patterns, some with scales hardened like wood or stone while others appear feathered and nearly birdlike. Any Pleroma who have spent time in Greentruth may recognize the shapes as shadows that have passed in the canopy overhead even if they have not crossed the paths of these dragons before. Reinforcements.

A little too late.

The dragons descend upon the Citadel led by a familiar figure; Tehri of the Deep Mists rides atop one of the largest of the dragons as they all come to land on the stony ground at the Pleroma front. They will provide cover for those looking to leave the battlefield and a flight back to Greentruth. If there are Pleroma who are staying to fight longer, a few dragons will wait around the edges until all battles have ceased. They are only dragons, so they could come under fire by the Kenoma should attacks be made.

Tehri stays on the largest dragon as it rears its head above the siege of the ire of the dead. She stands tall atop it, extending her arms as a cool blow envelopes her hands. A rush of cold air pushes forth as a thick mist forms in the courtyard, obscuring vision for all but a few feet in front any person. The Regent's malformed spirits are left confused and without direction, but will attack any Pleroma they do manage to find. The mists linger for several hours after the last Pleroma has fled Achamoth.

WRAP-UP

Returned to their homes of choice, each Aion will be free to recover and carry on with their daily affairs. Word of the assault on Achamoth gradually spreads across Horos, prompting startled reactions its populace. Has the Pleroma truly been so brazen? Had the dragon in the sky truly been as grand as they say? Had the dragon of the wood truly answered in turn? The raid will eventually be a hot topic of discussion in every corner of the continent, though there were few non-Achamite eye witnesses. It can be expected that the details will be exaggerated, understated, and misunderstood wildly.

❖ IMPORTANT NOTES

◆ REGENT'S RESPONSE: After the Pleroma have left the city, the Kenoma will receive a communion from the Regent whether or not their shards are exposed. Their multi-toned voice will express contentment with the outcome of the struggle, explaining that they have successfully captured the Innocence and its host. With this link to its power claimed, they have what they need to end its threat. Kenoma will be welcomed to join them in their throne room to see this done a few days after the battle, but attendance is not mandatory. There will be a short NPC log posted to cover this, though we will warn that the Innocence's 'execution' will be fairly gruesome, so if you have a more uncertain Kenoma whom you don't want to scare off the path, it may be best to not have them attend.

◆ DRAGONS ENGAGED: As the majority of the PVP and PVE finishes up, there are dragon NPCs available to battle against at your discretion. We will not thread these battles, but if any Kenoma would like to try to take out one of the dragons, they can reply below and we will do a mod roll for their success. Any killed dragons may be dealt with as desired in Achamoth. There won't be a Kenoma knock out mechanic for this, unless players specifically want to be mangled by a dragon.

◆ STATE OF ACHAMOTH: Achamoth managed to avoid any irreparable mass destruction as a result of the raid, though there were some 'presumably Pleroma' assaults on civilian infrastructure that will be highly talked about in coming weeks, including the looting of a few houses, attempted arson of a church, and the attempted destruction of a factory. While the Sanctifier was not purposely attacking Achamite civilians, its battle with the Kenoma did result in some casualties among both the military and civilian population, while other soldiers were slain by the Pleroma on the ground. (Or, in one case, one of the Kenoma?) Multiple watchtowers were destroyed by the dragon's throes. In general, Achamoth is furious about this, and more hateful towards the Pleroma than ever.

◆ RECONVENING IN GREENTRUTH: Once back in Greentruth, Tehri will send a communion to all the Pleroma and ask them to attend, if they can, the first Aion Council meeting in early Sekiseri. She encourages all to take the time to heal both physically and mentally in the days to come. The council meeting Tehri is requesting will take place in September. This will be offered as part of a mini-event log where characters will be able to discuss with one another and speak with Tehri directly.

◆ VALLEY OF THE INNOCENT: Any Aions passing through the Innocent's Shrine will notice that, following the Innocence's 'execution', the once lush valley's plant-life is starting to die off in what is clearly a non-seasonal manner. Locals will say that the valley is generally in a state of eternal spring, and this is the first time they've seen it suffer like this. The death of the flora here is not complete or immediate, but it is devastating considering the valley's former state of perfection.

◆ SEKISERI: There will be no game-wide event in September, but there will be some NPC activity of various flavors. Players will be free to plot their own activities as they will.

Comments

[vapour]

[ Thankfully, he's in a better place where he can at least appropriately appreciate Makoto's comments, and there is a swell in the feeling of comradery towards the other on Childe's end, too. He knows very few of the Kenoma can actually afford to call each other much of anything with how fickle what is or isn't important to them seems to be, so the praise and the feeling he gets from it are something desperately appreciated. ]

I'd like to hear more about what you did back there. It was quite impressive that you not only went right through the beast, but you managed to stay on its back to do further damage. You were just as vital from my standpoint to this success, and I look forward to fighting alongside you . It's time to show the Pleroma that there is plenty for them to be in fear of regarding the Kenoma. [ they've had it too easy, gotten away with too many things that made the Kenoma aions look as little more than small-time bullies picking fights where they couldn't hold their own despite it being the furthest from the truth. The traitors have only made that image worse. The Innocence Entity perhaps made them too complacent and bold this time.

Today may finally be the start to the change they all deserve.

Childe nods to J, but unfortunately there's little personality to be had or seen while in his armor, so the demon will have a pretty boring reply (which is just as well since J is truly preoccupied) ] There is always time for that.

[ ... J sure does like to make mental noise right now, which is very obvious to Childe as a 'go away, this isn't the time to be chatting here' type of effort, but it's good that the other is watching after his... 'hubby,' if he is remembering correctly the name used to refer to Makoto before.

Despite the mental racket, Childe turns back to Makoto. ] Let's speak later. I imagine you have a busy schedule still. [ From J's demands of him getting himself treated for injuries, if nothing else.

Childe will turn to leave and pause only to add one more thing. ] —We are of the same Legacy; reach out at your leisure and I will answer.

[ He intentionally leaves it vague, but he means that he'll make time to talk with Makoto at a later point regardless of what's going on should the other contact him via communion. It could mean other things, too, although if the other ever needs assistance in a matter, he will respond to that is implicitly given. It's not said or even technically communed, but there's a projection of feeling that such a thing might as well been said through their legacy connection that Makoto will have no problem picking up on.

Without another word, he'll wait for J ( who's now having escalated to making real interruptive noise, it seems) to make his current lap around the two of them and pass Childe before he himself walks out of the imposed circle to retreat into the citadel further. ]

[affal]

( would there be any other time? makoto did not have the perspective granted to one by the onset of centuries. regardless of how he acted and wanted others to believe of him, he was still a scant twenty years old himself, and having spent the last four or five of those actively or indirectly courting death of several different shades and hues and with varying permanence, he doesn't really see the merit in keeping one's eyes pinned on the temporal horizon. this whole, blasted, rotten universe of theirs was crumpling and falling to pieces. they were not owed tomorrow — hell, from what he's seen and experienced here and now, they're not owed the next hour. so he wants to take risks. he wants to douse himself in his wants, fears, and desires, and burn as hot and as bright as he can, for as long as he can possibly manage.

such an approach would have been anathema in hell, where clever minds and silver tongues commanded with iron fists. but they were no longer in hell.

he maintains his attention on childe, smiling widely; the expression is rather ghoulish, smeared on all sides as he was by drying blood that still held fast to its faint luminosity. ) Likewise. It seems that several among us hold hidden depths. That is just as exciting as it is to me as it should be disconcerting to them.

( morale was a powerful force upon a battlefield. it might have been easy for the Pleroma to fight in achamoth beneath a mammoth beast ensuring passivity towards them and theirs, instilling terror and awe among the Regent's followers, but now that it was battered and broken and gradually being undone altogether? the tide once again ebbs, and it turns in their favor. now they would show these upstarts that their brazenness in attacking the seat of the Regent's power was foolishness rather than bravery.

though, at the brief exchange between childe and J, largely (and seemingly intentionally) held at makoto's expense, he looks over his shoulder to glare a red-hot knife in-between the eyes of his master before continuing in a voice that was overly-placid (a red flag, for any who knew makoto): ) But, now. Let's not get carried away.

( it is true enough that there is still much to do. the Pleroma are still within their city, even if their avatar of defiance has fallen. he nods to childe as the man turns back towards him, expression carefully poised between geniality and interest. ) We both have much to do until this attack is driven completely from these streets. ( and if J is going to insist on him sitting through some healing, like a helicopter parent insisting on first aid attention to a scuffed knee (he is way more injured than a scuffed knee, but he doesn't want to see it that way), then fine, but it will only delay him getting back out there to do what he feels like he must.

he does pick up on the vague communicative sense that childe passes to him, aided especially by the Firaseri moon causing such empathy between those that the Firebrand has blessed to be that much stronger. he nods. ) I will keep that in mind. Until next time, then.

( and after the other man leaves to continue his own efforts in the city, makoto turns back towards J, the line of his lips etching downwards into a frown. he heaves a sigh. it seems that focusing his attention on others, on conversation, elsewhere in general is distracting his thoughts away from what the abyss had instilled in him. it's still there, slithering through through his spinal column, but it feels easier to ignore it (for now). so instead he regards the demon with customary faint irritation, saying, ) Really, J. We're no longer in Hell. I hope it's not going to take you another seven hundred years to learn to just say what it is you want rather than making a whole ordeal out of it... ( you're embarrassing him in front of the neighbors. )

[tohell]

[ All the campy, asinine foolishness J has cast over himself like a garish costumed performance the last few moments falls away once Childe chooses to make his exit. Mercurial as the weather, J's expression smooths out to a stony indifference. To him, most of their compatriots are merely pieces on a chessboard, with no more intrinsic value to him than someone else's toys. Humans have been instilled in Hell's society as objects for as long as any known demon have existed, so the rare few that caught J's attention were those who proved themselves worthy of it. So his interest in Childe drops off a cliff the instant he's out of earshot, which allows J to focus on Makoto's present condition.

Disastrous, is one way to describe it.

When J had cushioned Makoto's earthbound fall, he'd taken notice of his ward's numerous injuries. But in the aftermath of such an event, with his own deleterious state splitting J's attention, even noticeable wounds had not sunk into his consciousness with the focus they now do. The caustic nature of the Sanctifier's blood is the most visible issue, when it's presently eating away at Makoto, upon every inch that it settles. A grotesque stripping of flesh, best revealed by hands that look as though the outermost layer of skin has been burned or melted off. ]

Interrupting your adorable little bonding moment by making a scene was me doing you a favor. [ J simply reaches to take hold of Makoto's shirt and haul him close under the shadow he makes, looming down over him like a threat. But where there seems to be the approach of violence, he digs for something in a pocket to produce a handkerchief. And with care to not add any pressure that might further scrape away skin or push the abrasive liquid deep into the tissue, J wipes at the blood by dragging it from one corner of Makoto's face to his chin in steady, precise strokes. ]

You should thank your lucky stars that I allowed you time to postpone that to a later date. [ There's no convenient canteen of water stored on either of their persons, or a nearby foundation to douse the fabric with fresh water. That being the case, J improvises. If he has to wet a portion of the handkerchief by pressing a corner to his mouth before applying it, to loosen up the oxidized blood, he does so without an ounce of shame. All the while, the demon remains careful not to put his mouth upon any place that's already touched Makoto's skin, in the event it could do internal damage that healing may not easily remedy. ] Or would you have preferred that I simply carry you off like an unruly child to find a healer?

[ His free hand lifts to comb away any loose strands of Makoto's hair back from his filthy face. Once those stragglers are drawn out of the way, he holds them up within a light press of that hand to prevent them from tumbling into his face to obstruct J's work. ]

But if you'd rather have my demands voiced outright, all right. Let's play that game, shall we?

What I want is for someone to examine you. [ At times, two eyes exposed to the casualties of war can see too much. A third now feels like an additional curse, when it hovers on the state of hands that are beyond any remedy J can provide. ] I want to hear with my own ears whatever you used against that monster, and the consequences you've reaped, left only superficial wounds that require no further treatment than this.

[ A loaded request, if not an outright trap, when Makoto's injuries at the very least require a modicum of downtime and more than a bandage or two. ]