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Aion Mods ([personal profile] aionmods) wrote in [community profile] aionlogs2022-08-25 12:10 pm

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

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.

undertheweight: (really now?)

[personal profile] undertheweight 2022-08-29 09:18 pm (UTC)(link)
It is confusing, because it brings to mind being petted. Wrathion just blinks mildly at Anduin for a moment, more coherent thoughts briefly absenting his head. He exhales slowly, then brings a wing forward to help steady the priest again. He knows how heat can be lulling, and better that happens somewhere safe. Somewhere that is not here.

He could say something about the scratching, but Wrathion would find it far more demeaning coming from anyone who wasn't Anduin. (Well. Maybe not Claude, either; he'd seemed to mean well. Claude just isn't in the same category.)

"Maybe it's best I let you go, then. Just...I don't have to warn you to be careful?"

He's sure Anduin would warn him to be careful all the same. Now he makes no sudden movements, picking his head up slowly and uncurling himself slightly, to make Anduin's path easier.

"I will come look for you like this, if I have to. Frightening the citizens or no." Not that Wrathion particularly wants to foment more antipathy towards Aions, but his concern is with one particular Aion.
bythelight: (2)

[personal profile] bythelight 2022-08-29 11:06 pm (UTC)(link)
He blinks as Wrathion uncurls, giving the dragon a slightly woozy frown. The warmth was nice, and he does regret having to give it up. Anduin has the faint sensation of being lightheaded, but it isn't far that he has to go. They'll both be indoors soon.

"... Alright."

Pulling himself together, Anduin moves slowly around until he's infront of Wrathion -- hand trailing along his neck then dropping away.

"... Thank you, again."

For coming back for him. He flickers a faint smile, then Anduin steels himself and begins to move away back towards Godsblood.

The walk is not, at least, particularly far -- although with his adrenaline wearing off it's growing more difficult. He makes his way to their room and snags up his bag, wincing in the process, then searches for clothes for Wrathion. His walk back is slower than the one in, but once he arrives he does manage to awkwardly fish the bundle of clothes out onehanded.

"Here," he says. "I suppose if this is to be a common problem you'll need more spares."

Or else he'll run out of clothing.
Edited 2022-08-29 23:30 (UTC)
undertheweight: (suppose I deserved that)

[personal profile] undertheweight 2022-08-30 12:16 am (UTC)(link)
Wrathion grimaces. It isn't as if he'd intended to come back naked, but when he'd cast off what he'd been wearing, it hadn't been covering much as it once did. And after he'd shifted in it, it wouldn't cover anything at all. Nor was it any use for scraps, because the fabric hadn't had much to speak for it in the first place.

"I hope I don't make a habit of it," he complains. There's already so much he wants to research, and he hasn't even found out whether there's a library or not in Godsblood, yet...he'll have to add this to the list, whether or not he can...retune his shapeshifting to do it with clothes, again.

Once he accepts the bundle from Anduin, Wrathion drops them to the ground. He's hardly ashamed to shift before the priest, though he doesn't waste any time in pulling the trousers on. Awkward as that is when he can't balance from one leg to the other without crumpling. He doesn't bother with the shirt for now, moving forward to slide his arm under Anduin's good one and give him support.

"Thank you for bringing these to me. Do you think you can make it back again?" Wrathion disdains to call the room they've been sharing home. Considers himself lucky that Anduin is as patient as he is. The dragon is far less inclined to be forgiving, but even so, he does his best to gently guide Anduin's weary footsteps back towards Godsblood proper.
bythelight: (17)

[personal profile] bythelight 2022-08-30 01:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Anduin flicks his eyes away once he recognises Wrathion is shifting to his visage, turning to give him some modicum of privacy. He doesn't really know if he cares either way, but it feels polite to do so. The touch to his arm, then, catches him off guard. He blinks at Wrathion, frowning as he flicks his eyes over him -- inspecting him for damage.

"Yes," he confirms, "but we'll need some supplies. Something to disinfect our injuries, some bandages. If you can't put weight on that leg you'll need a support."

All things that Anduin doesn't have. They'll need something to eat, too, to regain their strength -- but he thinks he does at least have some dried meat saved up.
undertheweight: (I'm not certain)

[personal profile] undertheweight 2022-08-30 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, to judge by how swiftly he actually donned his trousers, the dragon had had no intention of flashing Anduin. He is really going to have to work on redressing his Visage in the near future.

No pun intended.

Wrathion's brows furrow, lips pursing in irritation as the priest suggests a support for his leg, and he shakes his head. "If I stay off it when I can, I should be fine. You're right about disinfectant, though. I've been bitten more times than I care to think about, and I'm certain they were undead." Bad enough to be bitten by humanoid teeth, but undead are worse.

"Would you rather come with me to get those supplies?" While Wrathion knows what he would prefer Anduin to do, he thinks that he should not deny Anduin the option. However, he is quietly hoping that the priest just...feels too tired to keep going. He does pause so that if Anduin does decide he needs to oversee the supply-gathering, they don't have to redouble their steps at all.

Wrathion has had some experience with tending wounds, but it isn't even a sting to his pride to know which of them is better at it.
bythelight: (16)

[personal profile] bythelight 2022-08-31 12:49 am (UTC)(link)
He hesitates at that, studying Wrathion. It seems like the options are go with him or don't go, there's none where Wrathion stays and rests his leg.

"... Are you sure you should be walking?"

There's also the other aspect -- he'll need other tools too, and Wrathion can already smell the blood on him. He's likely to be more upset once he's helping him dig bits of arrow out of himself. That is unavoidable, however unless Anduin somehow finds a way to send Wrathion out while he does it with a mirror.
undertheweight: (uncertain)

[personal profile] undertheweight 2022-08-31 01:05 pm (UTC)(link)
No, there is no option for Wrathion to rest. He'll rest later. When they both can. Mostly, he's concerned that Anduin will run out of steam and end up somewhere in Godsblood without the wherewithal to get back to the boarding house. Wrathion doubts that he'll do something to make things worse with his leg, so long as he's not forced to balance on the bad one. He finds that unlikely.

"If I was going to do more damage, I've probably already done it." But the dragon shrugs. He could go into detail, but he honestly isn't out to make Anduin feel guilty for the choices that Wrathion had made. Of course, in his casually arrogant way, he's also sure he'll be fine, given time.

Wrathion has absolutely no idea as to the direction in which Anduin's thoughts have turned, or he would have something to say about it. Assuming, of course, that didn't drive him into a bellowing rage, first.
bythelight: (3)

[personal profile] bythelight 2022-08-31 02:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Anduin is too woozy to keep thinking about this.

"Alright," he says finally, "but I'll need some other things too, for cleaning debris from a wound. Tweezers, small pliers, some gauze for packing. I can heal things properly when I've slept, but just something until then."

He can fix the problem, he just hasn't the energy right now. It's up to Wrathion if he feels confident finding all these supplies alone, or if he wants Anduin to come along. The only concerns he has from staying behind in their room are Wrathion's leg, and his own ability to stay awake. Light, he feels so wrung out. So tired, as if everything either hurts or aches. As if all his limbs are heavy.

Something to dull the pain wouldn't go amiss, but he expects that will be beyond their budget.
undertheweight: (suspicious)

[personal profile] undertheweight 2022-08-31 09:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Wrathion doesn't like the implications of Anduin's list, but he's not about to question it. He knows that Anduin wants him off his feet as soon as possible, so the less he takes issue with any of it, the sooner they'll both be happy. At least, in theory.

"Is there a reason why you should not go back to the room and sleep?" As the priest does have more experience in treating wounds and healing in general, Wrathion doesn't want to argue that point either, but he is curious. Best to ask, rather than assume. There's a part of him that does want Anduin to come along, to be certain that he gets the proper items that the king needs, but...even just reading Anduin's face, Wrathion can tell that he's too tired. It's not surprising, considering what's gone on. Still, he's concerned.

"Do you want me to help you back? I know you want me off this leg, but...you're practically asleep on your feet. I won't be foolish. I promise. Not in this regard."

It's the best he can do, in this situation.
bythelight: (8)

[personal profile] bythelight 2022-09-04 12:49 am (UTC)(link)
"I don't want to sleep until I've done something about our injuries," he says. He doesn't want to leave them in their current state longer than necessary. If he rolled in his sleep he's at risk of doing worse damage, too.

All in all, not a brilliant idea.

"I can make it back, we could meet up back at our accommodation. Or I can accompany you, if you have concerns."

Either about buying the right things, or about leaving Anduin to his fate briefly.
undertheweight: (I think not!)

[personal profile] undertheweight 2022-09-04 03:22 am (UTC)(link)
Both. What if it's both? Still, if Anduin believes he can make it back...then it behooves Wrathion to trust him. He knows himself, and so far, Anduin has given Wrathion the benefit of the doubt, too. The dragon might not like it, but...He swallows once, but gives the priest a nod, reluctant though it is.

After all, and as usual, Wrathion has a plan. There is the woman he'd gotten that jar of salve from. It really wasn't that long ago, but it seems like months, not days. There might even be a chance he can get a loan or something. Worth the risk, he thinks.

"I understand. I'll go. You go back and try to rest, and I'll be back as soon as I can?" It should be clear that Wrathion doesn't particularly want to split up, but he's decided that it will be quicker this way.
bythelight: (5)

[personal profile] bythelight 2022-09-05 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
Anduin considers Wrathion a long moment, then nods. Whatever he finds, if they need something else they'll find a way.

"I'll see you there," he says, and begins to move.

His progress through Godsblood is slow, but persistent. Anduin has determination. He still remembers the pain of recovery from the Divine Bell, the slow progress of strength returning to his muscles, the frustration and misery of weakness.

He can endure far worse than this.

He sits down heavily on the cheap bedding, shuffling things so he can put some behind himself to carefully prop himself up as much as he can without putting pressure on anything. One-handed, Anduin rifles through his bag for some dried meat to chew on to try and give himself some energy while he waits. He could begin pulling things away to get a better look, but he doesn't want to irritate anything too much when he isn't certain how long Wrathion will take to return.
undertheweight: (I'm not certain)

[personal profile] undertheweight 2022-09-05 01:03 am (UTC)(link)
The bell above the door rings when the dragon pulls it open. The room's interior is hung with drying herbs, the scent alternately dusty and green by turns. For a moment, Wrathion wants to sneeze, but staves it off by rubbing his nose. On the shop's counter, a mortar and pestle are left unattended, and Wrathion goes to lean against it, getting the majority of his weight off his bad leg.

He does pause to peer at the mortar's contents, but a three-fingered hand swipes beneath his nose, and he jerks back to look at the shop's proprietor. She glares at him, red eyes boring into his, even as she shakes back the mane of white hair falling into her face with a toss of her horns.

"Wrathion," she offers coolly, and the dragon breaks into what he hopes is his most charming smile. The cervine woman narrows her eyes and folds her arms over her chest, but pauses. There's something in his mien that differs from his usual attitude. Like he'd sussed out Anduin's injuries, her nose wrinkles, and she hauls one of the stools for her usual customers around the counter, patting it even as she glares at him.

"Sit. What happened to you?" At that, he rolls his eyes and finds a finger beneath his nose again.

"Madame Duzhaya--"

"Don't you give me that lip, I saw you limp in here, and you're not that stupid about doing work. It's simple, but you're honest enough for all that."

Wrathion sighs, but relents. "I got into a fight. Actually, I'm not the only one. My friend did, too, and I think he's hurt worse than I am." Fairly sure Anduin is hurt worse than he is, but that seems to show on his face, too. Duzhaya tuts at him, pulling up a small crate from beneath the counter and starts to place items within it, and the dragon's brows fly up.

"I can't pay for all of that--" She stops, then, and drops her chin, which points the tip of her horns straight at his chin, and Wrathion stops.

"We'll work something out. Later. And before you argue with me again, it's not charity. Don't worry about it for now, I'll get recompense out of you." He grimaces, but nods. Neither he nor Anduin want charity, after all.

"If you can't get the tools back to me soon, don't worry overmuch. They're my spares." She glances up at the dragon again, brows furrowed, and goes into the back of the shop, returning with some covered pot and a cloth wrapped bundle. Both of these go into the crate along with the entirety of Anduin's list and a few more bottles, which she directs Wrathion's attention to with a gesture.

"Disinfectant. This one is an external painkiller. This one is internal. One spoonful. Don't overdo it. Now get out of here. The sooner you're off that leg of yours, the better. Let me know how you two do. If you're careful, the food will last you more than a day." Then again, she's seen how he eats.

Even as grateful as he now is, Wrathion doesn't mince words, though he does blurt out a "thank you!" as he departs. Duzhaya simply waves him off.

So, perhaps sooner than Anduin might have expected, the dragon is barging through their door, balancing that precious crate carefully in both hands, and gives the priest a triumphant smile. He carefully lays the chest down (because he's worried he's going to drop it), and then follows it to get off his leg as he'd promised he would.
bythelight: (10)

[personal profile] bythelight 2022-09-05 12:37 pm (UTC)(link)
The crate is a surprise.

Anduin blinks at it, then up at Wrathion warily. It seems like far more supplies than they should be able to afford, which begs the question how he afforded it -- or perhaps more accurately how he came to have it. Did he steal them? Or make some sort of deal? He inches away from the wall, a leaning to peer at the crate warily.

"Where did you get all this?"

Not that he doesn't need it, he just wants to understand the consequences they may face for having it.
undertheweight: (really now?)

[personal profile] undertheweight 2022-09-05 12:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Wrathion probably should have expected that. Not that he can really blame Anduin for asking.

"The same lady I got that salve from. Madame Duzhaya Revain. Some of the work I've done, I've done for her. She does want her tools back, she said. But only once you're through with them. As for the rest, she assured me she'd get her money's worth out of me."

That doesn't particularly concern him, however. Inasmuch as she's sharp-tongued and definitely no-nonsense when it comes to his particular brand of it, the dragon has never had a sense of malice from the woman. So Anduin's thought that Wrathion has made a deal of sorts is accurate. The dragon just feels as if he's in no danger from it.

"I didn't mention you by name, but I did mention you. She might want to meet you eventually, but she didn't specifically say so." Wrathion shrugs a bit at that. "I don't think that would hurt, but I didn't volunteer you, either."