Best Of

8/18/2022 at 0:30
Anonymous
Everyone
The Second War of Night, Part XVI: The Shadow Rising

In the wake of Memonaransa, while many scrambled to acquire information on the Sword of Truth and others continued pouring their efforts into developing weapons and defences against the Shadow, the Tarean mountains groaned as the battlefield's southern front found itself reformed by the will of the Earth, narrowed into a deadly funnel intended to bring down the hammer of wrath when next Czjetija's forces made a push forward. Undeterred, Murgraxis stirred from his vigil at the rift and hastily deployed more forces to the front. The Empire, by now well drilled and efficient, mobilised in turn to meet them, and the familiar clamour of armies meeting in battle could soon be heard throughout the world.

Yet something was off about this skirmish. Though the numbers committed by the Shadow General were as vast as any prior effort, the Shadowbound Dragon seemed wholly uninterested in the result, ignoring the clash below as he ascended on wings of black night and dark dread, propelling his colossal bulk west, toward the settlement of Hubride. Countless attempts had been made to evacuate all of the Three Widows villages, but still many workers, townspeople, and villagers remained defiantly behind.

As the Dragon's long shadow fell over the settlement and he boasted of the weakness of Lanos and the doom awaiting Hubride, people flocked in droves to its defence. Spearheaded largely by Enorian, many hoped to save the Trolls even as they shouted angrily in response to the General's boastful claims. But no battle would come. The Shadow Lord opened wide his maw, raining down a flood of impenetrable wrongness upon the settlement below. Shadowrot poured forth from his draconic jaws, foetid flame and sickening fire which instantly destroyed the adventurers standing sentinel. The torrent spread through the village like wildfire, devouring every man, woman, and child that had dared to stay behind, spreading into the mines and over the hills and into every nook, cranny, and crevice it could find.

Smoke and ruin and filth were all that remained of Hubride, and Murgraxis, snapping shut his maw with a crack of finality, simply altered course and drifted back toward his perch amidst once-Sterion. Neither boasting nor prophesying further harm, he fell silent, the calamity wrought in his passing bespeaking all that needed said. With their General's work done, the shadowspawn hordes regrouped in a rearguard formation and retreated back to the Primal Eye.

~ ~ ~

In late Khepary, after the Unbound Lord had taken leave for Spirit and left the defence of Enorian in the Maelstrom's capable hands, sudden pressure radiated in waves from the heart of the Primal Eye, forming a raging vortex of midnight tendrils. The frothing, murderous rampage of Ohlsana's limitless spawn stilled to an eerie silence, the singular will of Immortal Darkness commanding rapt attention from Her copious host as each seemed to turn their gaze toward the breach, the air alive with electric evergloom, crackling in anticipation of something unknown and unseen. Stone and metal screamed in anguished protest, the fabric of reality dividing Prime from Shadow shuddering as the rift-arch, already sundered and profaned by invaders, yielded in full, collapsing on itself with a haunting elegy of defeat.

Whispers spilled from within the conquered breach, a chorus of rasping, preternatural sibilance ceaselessly repeating itself with maddening reliability as the gaping hole between worlds churned like a maelstrom of black waves. As the pressure at the heart of once-Sterion climbed to further levels, the pinpricks of violet fulgence, once tiny specks of blacklit motes, grew. Umbral silhouettes now bestrode the breach, and the stillness of the shadowspawn fell away, the countless aberrations infesting Sapience roaring and hissing and jeering as one voice made of thousands.

Most knew this could mean only one thing: the rest of Ohlsana's Generals were coming.

Legions of shadowbound poured forth from the dark-without, the towering form of a Titan driving them forward. General Diyomexas dwarfed his soldiers, the mighty core of the colossal shadow eld whirring in place of his heart. The Shadowbound Dreikathi scarcely bothered to acknowledge Murgraxis and immediately marched east, his purpose laying beyond the Sapience shores.

Black fire belched virulent smoke into the air with the coming of General Isalemei, the corrupted Djinn accompanied by General Azgon, a fallen Akkari clasping a twin-bladed manta stained black with foul magic. Brief conference with Murgraxis ensued before the two Generals and their forces marched briskly towards Enorian and set about establishing a staging camp in preparation for war.

Next to pass through the breach were Generals Sanaz and Saglozol, each garbed in flowing robes of midnight. The Naga cast a critical eye over the military arrangement in Sterion, while the Memory Eater conferred with Murgraxis in the primal tongue of the Shadow. Apparently satisfied with their assignments and goals, the two Generals turned away from each other and simply disappeared, fading from sight without sound or sign of their destination.

At the head of another host of soldiers, General Mazgal was next to enter the Prime, his rocky Earthen form shaking the ground with each advancing footstep. General Telorach joined the Unyielding Earth, coagulating black matter forced into the monstrous, intimidating form of an Ascended Shadow Beast. Accompanied by their assembled troops, the two Generals spared no time for Murgraxis, immediately taking leave from Sterion and marching southward. Reaching the Dry Plains, the pair quickly established a command post in view of Spinesreach and began organising their forces in preparation.

Some moments of quiet passed before groaning wood and creaking bark resounded from within the breach, corrupted nature lamenting every footfall of General Jokach. The ancient, withered Durdalis moved forward with a ponderous gait, its craggy body swathed in toxic moss and smoking, putrefied vines. Limbs the size of tree trunks supported its bulk, hordes of twisted fauna following behind. It shared only a fleeting conversation with Murgraxis before ambling away, turning its sights on the Ithmias. At the edge of the ancient woodland, Jokach paid little heed to the trees and flora soughing in protest at its encroachment, marshalling troops to a staging ground in the earth.

The next General arrived through a silver gateway splitting the air as living darkness writhed about its outer edges. Reality parted to receive General Agrimarha, the corrupted Ankyrean Adherent. Manifesting the presence of Misery Incarnate, the Adherent glowed with mortalfire, draped in an aura of tangible dread which only deepened as the portal snapped shut behind her. Unlike her fellows, Agrimarha quickly motioned beside Murgraxis, choosing to remain in defence of the Shadow's front lines.

Without warning, the the paean of war sung by the indignant, battle-hungry shadowspawn reached its dreadful coda, the rubicon of a harrowing requiem gasping out its final throes. Murgraxis stepped back beside Misery's Adherent, the gaping maw of Czjetija yawning open ever further to permit the ingress of yet more legions of darksworn soldiers. As the last of this host poured in, the soldiers bore profound and stark discipline, driven by primal fear and unvoiced terror as their eyes trained anxiously whence they came.

As one, spawn and soldier fell to their knees, and for a moment, the breach froze, its motion stilled by an authority indelible lingering out of sight and sense beyond the other side. A glance of trepidation passed between Murgraxis and Agrimarha, and they each took another step back. Entwined streams of black and violet surged forth from without, a torrent of twilit effervescence converging into the form of Shadow General Irgech. Irgech, known by the discomfiting moniker "Angelbane", radiated profane might and terrible strength, a penumbra of nauseating non-light shrouding him in its black embrace. Clad in thick plates of shadowsteel, the General barked commands at both the Dragon and the Adherent, who hastened to obey. Then, as the sky above burned black with his presence, his voice called out in tones of undeniable dominion: "Find it."

While the Shadow's Generals fanned out across the world, Irgech deliquesced to naught but inky blackness, a pillar of evanescent shadow surging skywards at speeds defying perception. His ascension pierced cloud and stratosphere alike, puncturing even the membrane of the firmament like a single violet star amongst a stately canvas of gold, lingering high above the world with unknown but undeniably bleak intent. Low keening pitched from the heart of the Primal Eye, the immense pressure finally relenting in the throes of a turbid, ice-rimed wind. Though calm and order returned in the wake of the Commanders' arrival, it was an eerie, unnatural stillness, pregnant clouds gathering above and about the northern region with ominous, dire portent of battles yet to come.

And come they did.

Mazgal's troops were first to mobilise, their swift deployment a fell tribute to the renowned military minds of the Earthen. Driven forward by the aid of Telorach, they poured into Spinesreach with deadly intent, cutting down almost two hundred hoplites and forty loyal Spirean guards, as well as dozens of adventurer citizens who battled bravely to defend the gates. Though caught by surprise, Strategos Kagura soon rallied the forces and struck back while others hurried to throw the switch on the prime Storm Caller pylon, calling the wrath of Tanixalthas to their aid. The city lurched under a thunderous sonic boom and soon, arcs of brilliant blue electricity tore through the streets, striking ruthlessly at the shadowspawn and leaving none alive.

Isalemei and Azgon were next to organise a sortie, deploying forces into Enorian in order to test their defences. Expecting an attack after the assault on Spinesreach, Sryaen and Benedicto reacted instantly, diverting forces to the Landward Gate and dispatching bell ringers to the nearby belfry. As the clash began, Enorian met them with courage and valour, none more brave than young Everet who fearlessly charged the shadowbound as they invaded his home. Though he fell to a shadowspinner, his bravery shall never be forgotten by his Templar kin. Bells rang out with their righteous peals and tore through the invaders without mercy or hesitation, and the city held, having lost under twenty guards and only four knights.

Duiran was hit next, the corrupted Durdalis Jokach dispatching troops through the western Ithmia and into the Council proper. The fortified Durdalis troops at Duiran's entrance put up an incredible defence, holding the line for far longer than expected while protecting the citizens from harm. Yet, eventually, their numbers dwindled and the line broke, the resultant surge of shadowspawn cutting down dozens of councillors in mere moments. As they faced the mirror, the invaders rampaged, dispatching almost fifty guards and a hundred and fifty troops in their assault. Regrouping with the aid of Enorian, bell chimes once again sounded, and the combined strength of mettle turned back the advance.

As the initial assaults stilled, Sapience's defences held fast, shaken but unbroken. The dust from the conflict began to settle over the lands of Enorian, Duiran, and Spinesreach as leaders took stock of the losses, saw to their dead, and started to prepare for the next inevitable siege. Yet through the invasions and the battles, all remained calm over the Mhojave, the lands of Bloodloch mysteriously untouched by the Shadow's Generals or their soldiers.

In the week that followed, only a minor incursion into Enorian took place, though the cities remained on high alert, suspicious of what was to come. Overhead, all who turned their eyes to the moon observed the long shadow of General Irgech silhouetting the sky-dome. Shaping blackness in his hands, with the coming of the Howling, the sun flickered wan, losing some of its radiance. And when noon arrived, the makings of his dark star imposed a mantle of un-light across the firmament, eclipsing the daystar with its oppressive gloom...

Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 23rd of Khepary, in the year 504 MA.

8/16/2022 at 15:36
Ictinus, the Architect
Everyone
Some changes to: Chocolates, XP Gain, Chalices

Hi folks!

As I mentioned back in post #3359, we've been monitoring things since the removal of caramels and have some more changes to announce today. The intent behind these changes is to reduce the effectiveness of chocolates and the impact they have on PvE balancing (specifically in relation to bosses, dungeons, etc) without negatively impacting the level 200 push too much.

Chocolates
----------

- Hazelnut chocolates now provide +1 to stats, down from +2.
- Fudge chocolates now provide +1 to celerity, down from +2.
- Fudge chocolates are no longer restricted to chocolate boxes and the artifact cart.
- White chocolates now only provide damage resistance in PvE, and will not reduce PvP damage.
- White chocolates are no longer restricted to chocolate boxes and the artifact cart.
- Almond chocolates are now retired from circulation.
* The almond effect may return in some form in the future, we're discussing possibilities here.
- All existing almond and caramel chocolates have been converted into MINT.
* Message me if you would prefer something other than mints.

Experience Gain
---------------

- Endgame races (Azudim, Idreth, Yeleni) now have a passive 10% bonus to experience gain that is in effect at all times and stacks with all other boosts.
* This should offset most of the impact to the 200 push.
* This does affect level 200 races as well, separately to the innate bonus those races have.

Chalices of Knowledge
---------------------

- Newly obtained chalices will now have 3 sips of the Elixir of Knowledge
- Elixir of Knowledge sips now last 8 hours, down from 24
* This should mitigate the issues with wasting chalice time due to the previous long duration, especially considering the cost of chalices compared to other boosts.
* Any current knowledge buffs will not be affected.

As always, we'll be keeping an eye on the impact here and making further adjustments if necessary.

Enjoy!

Penned by my hand on Tisday, the 15th of Khepary, in the year 504 MA.

8/14/2022 at 23:49
Anonymous
Everyone
The Second War of Night, Part XV: Memonaransa

In an age long past, one considered by many to be the halcyon days of the Pantheon, when the Gods were both more powerful and more closely aligned with one another, matters of import were often solved by rite of Memonaransa, the Court of the Gods. As time wound on and the original members of Varian's Pantheon shifted, either through death, reinvention, artifice, or some other transformation, the Gods Court was forgotten, the mountain colonnade which formed its host lost to mortal memory.

In Chakros of the Year 504, following months of turmoil amidst the Second War of Night, Bamathis, the Warlord, resurrected the ancient tradition, informing all of Sapience of His intent to convene the Court of the Gods in an emergency session to discuss the ongoing calamity. Issuing an invitation to all of Varian's children, and to mortals who wished to bear witness, the summit was to take place at the end of Chakros, and all were expected to attend.

The month rolled towards its end, and, largely quiet since the ignominy of his defeat at Kald, the voice of Murgraxis called out again, promising that his forces would find and destroy this 'Memonaransa'. Deploying yet more of their seemingly endless legions into the Tarea Mountains, scouts too were sent forth alongside another monstrous host of darkspawn, tasked with locating the magically concealed mountain. Warleader Bulrok quickly mobilised the Empire's enhanced soldiers as well as his officers and made haste to the front, confident in success after their prior decisive victories and the advancements in military techniques their troops had made.

Others flocked to Kald as a rallying point, meaning to repel the shadowspawn in melee combat. Exarch Aban joined them and, while armies clashed in the north and former slaves-turned-soldiers culled hundreds of shadowbound legionnaires, the adventurers on the front did likewise, the clanging of bells ringing out amidst the carnage of war. Though countless died on all sides, the adventurers rose with fresh resolve and battled on, and Ohlsana's legions replenished themselves without ceasing.

While the battle raged, many of Hubride's citizens fled, seeking refuge in one of the city states. Others, unwilling to flee their homes and wishing to go out on their own terms, took their lives in the throes of despair, miners and villagers and local guardsmen laying dead on the streets. Murgraxis persisted, committing far more to the advance than in prior engagements, and, despite the strategic acumen of Warleader Bulrok and his deputy Rijetta, both ably supported by Bloodloch as a whole, the Empire's line began to break, owing, at least in part, to Primus Dourif who was either distracted or asleep at his post. Murgraxis, bellowing invectives about the failure of Bloodloch, and the inevitable dominion of Olsana (as written in the tongue of Czjetija), pressed his legions forward.

The earth shook, and the entire Tarean range rumbled ominously, mighty quakes protesting the Shadow's claim. As dozens still fought on the Kald front, the hissing and jeering of the advancing troops found itself drowned out by the wrathful roar of the earth, the very mountains splitting asunder to swallow thousands in their craggy jaws. Momentary silence was soon replaced with screams of anguish echoing from deep within the Tarea's heart: hordes of shadowspawn devoured to feed Azvosh's unending hunger by Ivoln's gravelly command. No retort came from Murgraxis, only an eerie, foreboding calm, and the Empire hastened to redouble their efforts in preparation for the next inevitable clash.

~ ~ ~

A short while later, the piping notes of a herald rose from the Tarean Mountains to signal the presence of Bamathis, the Warlord. Declaring that Memonaransa would soon commence, He invited His Siblings to join Him, and extended the same invitation to any mortal with the fortitude to conquer the mountain's ascent. By the will of He Who Is Strife, the cloak of divinely-wrought magic shrouding Mount Memonaransa fell away, revealing a mighty peak that extended beyond even the clouds, a rumble in the Southern Tundra signalling the opening of a concealed pathway to the summit.

Some sixty adventurers flocked to the foot of the mountain and commenced their ascent, battling through rain, hail, snow, lightning, and treacherous cliffs. Dozens fell in the attempt, but it was Valorie Aresti who first conquered the mountain, followed swiftly by Valeria. However, whether through eagerness to prove their mettle in a second attempt or through negligence as to its purpose, the two quickly entered a silver gateway and found themselves returned to the bottom. Once all had gathered, Bamathis paced restlessly about the colonnade, a sprawling amphitheatre at the mount's peak outfitted with majestic, opulent thrones for each of the original Sapient Gods.

Dhar was the first to arrive and take His throne, followed soon after by the Earthen Lord, the two estranged Gods sharing a momentary look. Slyphe appeared next in a haze of salt and spray, and Damariel joined Them, both taking Their seats. Two Chiav flanked Malevolence, Whose gait lacked the usual macabre flair owing to the gaping hole in Her chest. While Iosyne skittered toward Her own throne, a pillar of fire announced Ethne's presence; exhausted from work at the forge, She slumped into Tukuti's seat, grateful for the opportunity to rest. Perfumed scents presaged Corruption's coalescion, a look of sultry curiosity on Her face while She sat. Time stilled and Lexadhra made Herself known, glibly sinking into the throne marked 'Aryon' with amusement. Last to appear was the Manipulator, and Severn simply stepped out of the shadows without pomp or ceremony, taking His throne opposite His Twin.

Ten Gods had answered the Warlord's call, and, after some minutes of awkward silence, it seemed no more would be in attendance. Continuing His restless pacing, the Warlord came to rest behind the throne of Varyan, asking Severn with annoyance about the presence of the Dragon. Shrugging, He casually reminded Bamathis that His invitation was to Varian's children, and that Tanixalthas was not one of them. "Neither is She," interjected Ivoln with a look of disdain towards Lexadhra, who reacted only with a sharp intake of breath. Corruption enquired after Omei, expressing surprise that She would forego a chance to show off, and the Indelible informed the Gods that She was preparing the Astral Realm to sustain life in the event of total loss of the Prime.

Irritation flashed in Strife's eyes, but before He could speak further, the incisive voice of Damariel cut Him off, insisting He speak. Memonaransa had not been invoked for millennia, Truth reminded Them, and He made known His lack of desire to suffer Strife's presence any longer than absolutely necessary, a sentiment supported by a grunt of assent from the tired Ethne. Raising His voice so it carried across the mountain, the Warlord addressed Damariel in formal tones, invoking all of His honorifics as He declared that the Unbound Lord was called upon.

Incensed, Damariel responded with harsh severity, outraged at the notion that He was to be put in trial in the Gods' Court. While Slyphe inwardly bubbled with excitement at what They termed a 'twist', Severn cut off His Twin's attempt to stand in protest with a coolly uttered assurance that He was not called for trial, and a plea to hear Them out. Mollified for the moment, Damariel sat and demanded that Bamathis speak quickly. While Ethne mused on the merit of talk and longed to return to Her forge, Bamathis raised His voice further. The threat of Shadow's General was nigh, He began, and reiterated their primary target with a jabbed finger in Damariel's direction. If Truth fell, He said, then the Shadow would have what they need to free Ohlsana. Pounding His fist on the back of Varyan's throne for emphasis, He gravely stated what all knew to be true: They could not allow that to happen.

Iosyne quipped that it was a shame Damariel had spent so much of His strength to protect, what She termed, one little village, but Dhar immediately cut Her off with His icy rasp. Reminding Malevolence that she was once the Virtue of Inspiration and the Goddess of Strategy, the Underking retorted with scorn that She was now killing Herself to save a single Keep of sinners and thieves. The Goddess was entirely unfazed, coolly replying that the Shadow Keep is close to the heart of the enemy's power, and would be a fine staging point for Their own forces. Irritated by the petty disagreements, Ethne insisted that Bamathis get to the point.

The Warlord ignored the quarrel and pressed on, stressing the point that when all eleven Generals had assembled, they could and /would/ come for Damariel, and that the Gods would not be able to protect Him from them all. At this, Slyphe's face took on a toothy grin, asking if the Gods were scared in a shanty-like lilt while questioning the notion that the Generals could be as strong as Murgraxis and Ati. Ivoln, unimpressed and not sharing the Maelstrom's cavalier attempt at humour, rejected the idea that He was afraid, insisting that the opposition would be brought to heel and that the strong, and the earth, would prevail. Only Irgech was comparable, so said Severn, ruefully informing Them that the one known by the dubious moniker "Angelbane", was stronger than both Murgraxis /and/ Ati, suggesting They should be thankful Ozeroth, by far the strongest and most threatening, had been chosen to hold the Shadow's frontline against Spirit.

"The others would still give most of You trouble," so said the Warlord, confirming the Manipulator's assertion with a remark about unfavourable odds. Demanding He get to the point, Damariel asked what was being asked of Him, and the response was simple: the Unbound Lord would retreat to the Spirit Plane when the Generals arrived, and beseech the Angelic Triad for refuge. Laughter followed from Chakrasul, unctuous and malicious as She declared such a suggestion, such a submission to fear, as delightfully fitting. Iosyne thought the plan foolish, vestiges of Strategy surfacing as She suggested the Generals would simply return to Spirit and assault Him there, asking with disbelief whether Bamathis intended to wage a war of cat and mouse with Damariel as bait until the rot devoured the whole world.

At this, Lexadhra interjected, informing Them of a secondary objective. This key, as She called it, would unlock Ohlsana's prison without requiring the death of Damariel. Severn assured Iosyne that the Generals would not withdraw to Spirit due to the logistical concerns, and Damariel, quiet in the immediate aftermath of Strife's suggestion, now made known His vigorous disagreement with the idea. "I refuse," He stated in tones of anger and rejection, citing Ethne's exhaustion from Her work at the forge and Enorian's need for more than Slyphe alone to defend it as reasons for His denial. He cast a sidelong glance at Haern's empty throne, adding that uncertainty and enemies were now everywhere, while Ethne made an effort to hide the extent of Her fatigue even while grunting in reluctant agreement with Damariel. "I am not weak," thought Slyphe as They watched the exchange, invoking a swift rebuttal from the mind of the Earthen Lord: "Yes You are."

The Maelstrom spoke up then, Their voice a dangerous undulation as They questioned Damariel on whether He thought Them unworthy of the task. While They clasped Their trident with loving care, Their eyes swivelled to regard Bamathis. "Bamathis might be a pissant," They began, "But in this, He speaks sense." Voicing Their expectation of an apology when Damariel returned from Spirit to find Enorian safe and still standing, the Changing God shifted then to regard Haern's empty throne, voicing a half-serious concern about Haern's attempt to destroy Sapience and expressing Their desire to at least know about the Hunter's plan to do so in advance. Iosyne cut in to ask where the Hunter was while gesturing at His empty seat, Bamathis settled the matter of Haern's absence in two short sentences. First, He reminded His Siblings that Haern's actions were the will of Varian, Their Father, going on to add that He would hear no more words against Him, and that His grievances over the affair with the moon were of a personal nature.

While Ethne and Lexadhra harboured thoughts of irritation, Iosyne rolled her ruined eyes but grudgingly accepted the explanation. If the Generals would not turn back to Spirit to pursue Damariel, She remarked, then the move would serve to only reduce Their numbers on the Prime. Before any could answer, Dhar cut in to ask Lexadhra about the secondary objective She had mentioned, confirming the Underking's suspicion that She referred to the Sword of Truth. Arion had it last, so She said, and that it was anyone's guess where it was now, possibly not even on the continent. This information seemed to lock in Dhar's agreement with the idea of Damariel's retreat as He noted the likelihood of the Generals needing to split up, allowing the Gods to divide, and, with Ivoln finishing His sentence for Him, conquer. The estranged Gods of Death and Earth shared a momentary look, fleeting but laden with a weight beyond the simple word They shared.

Returning to the subject of Damariel, the Unbound Lord looked around at the gathered Gods in search of support, eyes passing over each of Them in turn and receiving only blankness in response. Though the Forge Maiden offered Him a vague look of apology, even She did not voice Her agreement. "So be it." He stated finally, His voice rueful and defeated. Nodding decisively as the matter was settled, Bamathis shifted His focus to Chakrasul, Who still wore Her smirk of malice. Strife asked Her of the Court of Chaos, and whether the Goddess could convince Empress Xa'azamit to fight with Them. Chakrasul replied that the Empress does as she pleases, naming Bamathis "little Strife" with no affection whatsoever. If she was provided sufficient tribute, so said Chakrasul, she may be persuaded to lend some of her time. Seeking assent from the Goddess to place the responsibility for this persuasive task in Her and Bloodloch's hands, Bamathis received only a languid shrug, which He took as approval, reminding them that Xa'azamit was not yet as strong as Golotha, but the Court would be invaluable nonetheless.

"There is another resource We have not discussed." This from Ivoln, His sonorous voice magnified by the echo of the mountains. He looked to Dhar but avoided meeting His eye, asking after the Glade with a suggestion that the Underking had held back its souls for too long, positing now as the time to send them forth. The rebuttal was a cold, Kingly "no". The Glade was His realm, Dhar protested, entrusted to Him by the Celestine. Shaking His head from within His cowl, He stated that He alone would decide the appoined time, and that now was not it.

Bamathis looked then to Ethne, making cautious enquiries about Her work on the bell, enquiries laced with concern that Her work would summon Dejaani with its song. Stirred to anger by a combination of exhaustion and the Warlord's demanding tone, Ethne bluntly reminded Him She did not answer to Him, and nor did Her work require His approval. Strife's hand went to His sword at these words, palpable tension flooding down the mountainside, but Ethne's exhausted sigh stilled Him in mid motion. Tiredly telling Him to temper His tantrum, She assured the Warlord summoning Dejaani was not Her intent. Damariel lent the Forge Maiden a nod of support, as did Slyphe, though the former still bristled with displeasure at His forced absconsion.

Haern was the next topic on the Divine agenda, genuine concern in the Warlord's voice as He asked whether the Hunter would be recovered enough to fight. Dhar informed all the Gods that Haern's attention was focused on connecting the pathways to the fledgling plane, but insisted He would fight. Satisfied with the answer, Bamathis summarised the meeting in short order: Damariel was to retreat to Spirit when the Generals arrive, Chakrasul would work with Bloodloch to obtain support from Chaos, and Ethne would continue with the bell with Slyphe and Enorian's aid. To the remaining Gods He counselled only thus: continue to prepare for war, and prepare Their cities to withstand it.

Severn offered to liaise with Tanixalthas and soothe Her pride, to which the Warlord responded with a question about the Manipulator's own plans for Spinesreach. Answering only that they were in progress, Severn had little else to say, and the Warlord accepted the answer while His fellow deities introspectively pondered Their next moves. Calling for any other business, none came, and Bamathis adjourned the Court and dismissed His kin. One by one, the attending Gods faded from view, chromatic shimmers of colourful mist and animate essence painting the mountain in variegated shades with Their departure.

Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 5th of Khepary, in the year 504 MA.

8/13/2022 at 20:07
Anonymous
Everyone
The Glacian Experiment and the Ascension of Teani

While most of Spinesreach found themselves occupied in the newly established practice of fieldwork, eagerly archiving and collecting samples to fill their preservation vaults in the event that repopulating the world is needed, Litrix took the opportunity to go on an excursion of his own. Journeying north into the southern Tundra, the Xorali scientist battled through blizzard and wind, discovering to his chagrin that the advance of the rot had caused a number of freak avalanches. Despite leaving the region in turmoil, the unnatural weather patterns had inadvertently laid bare a secret in the ice: a bunker of some kind, buried until now beneath massive drifts of snow.

Enraged ice wraiths patrolled within, and cloying shadow lingered in the newly-reopened tunnel. Concerned for his safety, he reached out to Teani Stormwill, requesting her aid as a veteran Sciomancer. Despite an initial brush with death, Teani made short work of the wraiths, and the two ventured into the tunnel to explore further. Finding their progress halted by a massive arch, their attention was drawn to a frozen corpse laying beside the opening mechanism, apparently having perished before finding their way in. Teani used her shadow magic to scry for surface memories and, after some experimentation with the strange mechanisms and encouragement from Litrix, managed to open the door. Also discovered was the message "Y-5", lingering in the final moments of the deceased's thoughts. Neither knew what this meant, and they pressed on.

Further they descended, and it became clear that they had stumbled upon some long lost Ankyrean facility, not entirely unlike the other laboratories and bunkers scattered across the tundra. After dispatching more wraiths, their progress was curtailed yet again, this time by a pair of venantium doors, before which laid a deceased Ankyrean, completely frozen in ice. Teani remarked that the facility must truly be ancient based on the corpse on the ground before her and, spotting a strange earpiece that the unknown Ankyrean was wearing, she quickly used that same shadow magic to devour the ice encasing the body. The moment her hands made contact with the device, the doors swung open with a sibilant hiss of shattering sleet on ancient stone, granting them entry into the laboratory proper.

Inside, they found a number of peculiarities, among them various machinery worn down by age or frozen by the ice lining the chambers beyond. Tattered parchment spoke mysteries of catastrophic failure and investigations, yielding little more but questions. Yet another monstrous doorway confronted them in what seemed to be the nexus of the facility, this one decked out with a series of dials and levers suggesting the need for a password to advance. A blank plaque provided to them an infuriating riddle, and it seemed that progress would come only by exploration and deduction, two things for which Sciomancer Stormwill was renowned.

She took to the task eagerly, first examining a weatherworn crossword puzzle which, after some discussion and brainstorming with Litrix, was solved quickly, all the solutions beginning with the letter "V". Uncertain of its position in the door's password yet, they moved from the Archive chamber to a room labelled 'Stasis'. Residual shadow clung to the location, making it difficult to see, and giving Litrix a pronounced sense of unease. Attempting to clear the gloam, Teani leeched parts of it into herself but overdrew, her wind warping under the rapacious element's assault. After a brief period spent recovering, she purged the residue from herself and found a rhythm of leeching and purging that finally prevailed, revealing a strange message on the walls: "My squaree and my doublee aree thee samee as mee." Once again demonstrating her proficiency with word games and puzzles, she deduced that the password's second and fourth letters were "E".

Thus armed with "Y-5", "V", "E-2", and "E-4", only two letters remained. The pair returned to the plaque riddle, and time passed in frustration and discussion as they worked together to puzzle out the answer. After getting nowhere, realisation dawned amidst confusion as it seemed that Litrix and Teani were seeing different lines. From there, the answer quickly slid into place and the final two letters of the password were revealed to be "M" and "A", in positions four and six respectively. "Vemeya," Litrix grumbled. The Kalsu word for freeze. Teani quickly manipulated the dials on the door and, with held breath and hope in mind, gave it a firm push.

The door swung open into a wide chamber, demarcated as 'Cryotheory'. At its centre rested a large pod, connected to machines and devices aplenty. A sudden compulsion overcame Teani and, powerless to resist, she reached out and touched the device, which despite age and atrophy, whirred enthusiastically into motion. Ambient shadow and freezing cold worked as one to ensnare her and the jaws of the pod yawned open to emit waves of icy steam. Within moments, Teani found herself completely incapacitated, frozen solid in a block of ice.

Panicking and afraid for her life, Litrix made several attempts to free her to no avail, and it seemed she was stuck. Teani, however, was not ready to give up yet. Though her body was frozen, her mind was sharp and active. Exerting all of her will, she managed to bring forth a single tendril of shadow, urging it to begin eating away the ice holding her in place. Slowly, painstakingly, the darkness worked against the frost, and, despite falling unconscious several times in the process, the glacial prison at last yielded, shattering in a spray of icy shards.

Yet even with her newfound freedom, something was not right. Ice still crawled in her veins as darkness surged about them. Litrix looked on in horror but Teani wore a look of strange calm even as another sheet of ice formed to surround the aged Ankyrean machinery. Teani closed her eyes, her thoughts drifting under helicals of black ice and bitter cold and gloaming darkness, images of the frozen tundra flickering in her mind. The shadow and the cold collided in transformative union, each breath she exhaled now tinging the air with frozen motes as her body, swept away in a current of winternight, transformed to something other, something greater than before.

Tundral gales rose, icy winds raging in protest at what had occurred. Gone was Teani, and in her place stood Teeh, a frozen manifestation of winter's dark heart: a Glacian, under whose command the ice and the shadow were forced to yield.

Still fearful for her safety, Litrix examined Teeh for signs of harm and, finding none, asked her if she was all right, shivering all the while due to the roiling waves of cold emanating from her newly-rimed figure. Answering in the affirmative, Teeh simply stated "it's not cold anymore," seemingly oblivious to Litrix's bulging-eyed protests. Excited by Teeh's completion of the long-forgotten Ankyrean experiment, Litrix suggested she return home to assuage the worried Spireans asking after her, while expressing his interest in attempting to replicate the process in future.

Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 23rd of Chakros, in the year 504 MA.