Renew the Pact: The Hand of Asumit, p16

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Log Info

  • Title: Renew the Pact: The Hand of Asumit, Part 16
  • Emitter: Whirlpool
  • Characters: Cesran, Seldan, Cryosanthia, Serene, Karelin, Aya, Merek
  • Place: The Ethereal Sea of Mana
  • Time: Tuesday, August 24, 2021, 8:48 PM
  • Summary: The grace of Eluna shines down on the Sea of Magic, and the battle occuring therein. Her light crystalizes and shatters the tendrils of undoing, allowing the defenders to surge to strike. Tapping into their respective strengths, divine, magical, and martial, they attack. Cryosanthia is a fury, striving to embody the Tyrant Maugrim in her frenzy, though her many attacks only lightly injure it. Aya is more effective in her blows, selecting spots and shadow striking. Cesran, with Ral-sara, delivers an unparalleled Polar Ray. In service of his goddess, Seldan and Reunion smite with silvery light. Karelin quietly hews through the abominable beast, wreaking the devastation of war for his god, Kor. Serene, struggling to control Discord, sees a second blow is not necessary. Asumit's construct is broken apart, dissolving into and being carried away by the waves of Magic, leaving the unsettling question: was this his plan all along? Ravaged, the defenders of magic open gates to return whence they came, stumbling through as the temporary haven dissolves and the mana eats through them from inside. It is victory! At a price.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Serene       6'2"     175 Lb     Eldanar/Charn     Female    Glacier meets granite meets strawberries.
Cesran       6'1"     185 Lb     Human             Male      A tall dark-skinned man
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Seldan       5'11"    187 Lb     Human             Male      Ginger-blonde human in armor wearing Eluna's symbol.
Aya          4'7"     105 Lb     Shadow Elf        Female    Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing.
Merek        5'10"    215 Lb     Human             Male      A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes.
Karelin      6'2"     256 Lb     Human             Male      Tattooed Korite warrior. Tall, dark and scarred.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=  NPCS of Note   =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Griva Brassbringer               Khazdi            Female    Head of the Alexandrian Chapter of the Resurrection Society
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
     
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=  As the GM   =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Whirlpool    5'0"                Otyugh                      I am stinky!
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

Previously

The skies part, and the light of Eluna shines down, filling those who are pulling in the Sea of Mana to empower the ceremony with the ability to endure the pain. But not before Cryosanthia screamed a prayer that traveled back through her bloodline, which is answered by a distant ancestor. Cryosanthia is transformed.

Cryosanthia is a Dragon!

The sudden appearance of a White Dragon in their midst takes all by surprise, though Cryo is recognized as her former self by her markings and position. Seldan, Serene and Aya struggle with the powers flowing through them and continue the ceremony to drive the void creature from this reality. Everyone feels a lingering touch, from Merek. His death was not in vain, his sacrifice protects them all. Cryo is disoriented from the change, and uncertain until she realizes she must stand in to represent the Dark Dragonfather, Maugrim, as a true descendant.

The moon strikes the creature, destroying it's threads of unravelling, and everyone knows: Strike now. Karelin charges, driving his blade deep. He is followed by Aya, who delivers a flurry of blows. Cesran unleashes his most powerful spell through Ral-Sara, as Cryo-as-Maugrim launches herself to close to claws, blasting a cold breath across. Seldan, with a prayer and trust in his goddess, overflowing with mana, strikes at its heart.

Serene feels the call like everyone else.. if she hesitates, it's not out of a lack of conviction or a sense of doubt. It's the tactician waiting for her moment. It's the warrior steeling her resolve. Discord finds its way to her other hand, and then, moments, barely even seconds after her allies have charged in, unleashing the very hopes of their living world upon the creature in an act of very violent protest against its existence, Serene is following suit... first running, then the summoned wings upon her back beating down in a powerful thrust to propel her straight at the Eater of Worlds. The holy sword Promise is drawn in her other hand, then, and she thrusts them both forward.

Dark and light energies dance between the two, an unwillingness to share the same space... the dark sword Discord screaming in the paladin's mind to unleash it, to drop the dragonier-forged holy weapon and give herself over to it... the holy avenger, non-sentient perhaps, but driven by pure purpose to end everything Discord seems to stand for. Two opposing forces, repelling each other. But that repulsion is overwhelmed by the flood of mana and divine energies coursing through Serene as she calls upon more than perhaps even she can contain. Until she appears as nothing more than a sharp spear of light, lancing into the heart of the beast.

Now

GAME: Serene rolls reflex: (13)+28: 41
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls reflex+4: (16)+12+4: 32 (+4 Charmed Life)
GAME: Karelin rolls ref: (15)+16: 31
GAME: Seldan rolls reflex: (3)+23: 26
GAME: Aya rolls reflex: (6)+17: 23 (Improved Evasion)
GAME: Cesran rolls reflex: (4)+18: 22
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 20d6: (74): 74
GAME: Serene casts Paladin's Sacrifice. Caster Level: 20 DC: 24 (On Cesran)

The combined power of the blows through the creature have left it reeling. There's an eruption from it, a cataclysmic shower of arching nothingness that lances out in all directions. For the most part, you're able to avoid it, even as it descends on you in razor sharp, wriggling threads that rain on you. Some of you are able to avoid it entirely, but others are going to take at least some of them, feel their very souls being gnawed at by the bottomless hunger that the Unraveller represents.

While the light of the moon still stares down on you, a nod towards Eluna's efforts in the sea of mana perhaps, there's a ... tremor.

A sense that you may not be able to tarry here longer.

The creature is breaking apart but raining death down on all.

Seldan says, "We need to open up with all we've got and kill this thing quick."

Welcome to the big boys' table, Cryosanthia.

Nothing on this thing looks more unusual, vulnerable, or otherwise more interesting as a target than anything else. A churning mass of random horrors, mouths, eyes of unrecognizable species, staring blindly. Blinded by the light of the fading moon.

<OOC> Aya says, "I will repeat the last, which I believe is nearly the last of my ki. Flurry, Abundant Step swarm."
GAME: Aya spends TWO points of KI POOL.
GAME: Aya rolls weapon0: (15)+24: 39
GAME: Aya rolls weapon0+4: (16)+24+4: 44
GAME: Aya rolls weapon0+4: (4)+24+4: 32
GAME: Aya rolls weapon0+4: (18)+24+4: 46
GAME: Aya rolls weapon0+4: (3)+24+4: 31
GAME: Aya rolls weapon0+4-5: (13)+24+4+-5: 36
GAME: Aya rolls weapon0+4-10: (14)+24+4+-10: 32
GAME: Aya rolls weapon0+4-15: (12)+24+4+-15: 25
GAME: Aya rolls damage0: aliased to 2d10+6: (16)+6: 22
GAME: Aya rolls damage0: aliased to 2d10+6: (13)+6: 19
GAME: Aya rolls damage0: aliased to 2d10+6: (10)+6: 16
GAME: Aya rolls damage0: aliased to 2d10+6: (4)+6: 10

With no alternate indications from others aside from the sensation that it is time to strike, Aya strikes. With such an amalgam of ...features, no one appears more vulnerable than another, so it is simply a target-rich environment. She vanishes once more from her perch to appear adjacent to the thing, then adjacent elsewhere, and so on, relocating between strikes. This seems to aid somewhat, even if it may have more eyes and limbs that she has locations to appear. Afterwards, she returns to her starting location, panting from exertion as well the minor loss of a portion of her ...self. Soul? Power?

"..that's it! You're ending it!" Griva's eyes blaze blue for a moment. "It's breaking apar!

There is a pause.

"It's breaking /apart/. Oh no."

Oh no indeed.

<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I flew down to it so I'd like to full attack."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "is it immune to cold?" (Whirl - No, include cold die)
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "did my draconic reserve absorb mana? (Whirl - Yes, include mana die)
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "My Amulet of Mighty Fists has phase locking."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Targetting whatever anchors it, if possible"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "if any blindsense a good perception roll, or k/arc helps me to tell where the anchor is"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "forgot to do acid arrow last session, and it'd run out this session, rolling now."
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 2d4: (7): 7
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 2d4: (5): 5
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "dragonform 2 makes me large,"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I've got a cloak of the fangs to increase my bite damage, and a str boost"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "It will be, Bite, 2 claws, 2 wings, 1 tail, then bite again because of haste."
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+20: (7)+20: 27 (Cryo Bite)
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+20: (2)+20: 22 (Cryo Claw)
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+20: (17)+20: 37 Cryo Claw)
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+20: (12)+20: 32 (Cryo Wing)
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+20: (15)+20: 35 (Cryo Wing)
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+20: (17)+20: 37 (Cryo Tail)
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+20: (10)+20: 30 (Cryo Bite #2)
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d8+2d6+10: (8)+(11)+10: 29
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d8+2d6+10: (7)+(11)+10: 28

Cryosanthia flies at the swirling maw of chaos, intent on fulfilling her role in the performance. She was born and raised in a swamp, has spent time living among elves and fey. She often presents herself as cultured, elegant and graceful. These are not attributes associated with the Tyrant. However, under it all she has a brutish streak. Weak, small, it is an uphill fight for survival for every white dragon going up against its kin chromatics. In her method acting she taps into that fury. It's visceral, a fear and anger where she holds nothing back, and funnels all the agony of her life into destruction. She wants to feel flesh ripping under her claws, taste its poison, wear its blood on her scales.

Perhaps a whitescale would best represent the dark Dragonfather here after all.

"Show me the Anchor!" Maugrim orders. Tyrants do not make polite requests. They do not repeat themselves, even one command to die was an indulgence. Their will should be known, anticipated.

Karelin, Aya, Seldan, Serene have all struck and and sliced into the beast. Cesran seared it nicely. Maugrim will go further, trying to dig into the very beast. The bite does not land, both times, a claw slips, as does the tail. Only the wing and claw find purchase, tearing a deep gorge. Impressive, but ambition does exceed ability.

Perhaps a whitescale is not the best.

Yet there are wounds.

<OOC> Cesran says, "I'm going to direct my two Hand spells to catch as much of the Unreaveler pieces that they can."
<OOC> Cesran says, "I'm going to cast Polar Ray at it."
GAME: Cesran casts Polar Ray. Caster Level: 20 DC: 32
GAME: Cesran rolls 1d20+15: (4)+15: 19
<OOC> Cesran says, "And if I can continue the ritual"
<OOC> Cesran says, "Do I do any extra damage now that I'm infused with Raw Sea of Mana energy?"
GAME: Cesran rolls 20d6+10: (78)+10: 88
GAME: Cesran rolls 1d6: (6): 6 (Sea of Mana bonus)
<OOC> Cesran says, "The extra 1d6 is for if I get the bonus from the sea."
GAME: Cesran rolls 1d4: (4): 4 (Dex 4 Drain)

Cesran continues to hold out his staff as he continues the ritual. Even as pieces of the Unraveller fall up on him. He does try to get out of the way but there are so many and he has to continue with what he's doing. As he mentally prepares himself for the pain as the strands touch him he feels Serene's spell take hold and shift the damage from him to her. He gives a nod of thanks to her, "Thank you Serene."

Cesran turns his attention back towards the Unraveller and he reaches into his spell component pouch to take out a prism. He points it at the void monster as he cases a spell. A blue white beam springs from his hand and lances into the side of the beast. Ice crystals form on Cesran's hand as his skin is glowing with the energy from the sea of mana as it pulses brightly through his veins. The hands of force that he had summoned he now puts to work trying to catch any errant pieces of nothing to prevent them from going into the sea of mana.

The ritual continues as Cesran is relentless with it, "Go back! Go back to the Nothing that you spawned from! You do not belong here! Go back into the Utter Darkness! Go back into the Forever Night!"

GAME: Seldan rolls reunion+se+pa+haste: aliased to weapon1+charisma-4+1: (13)+24+8+-4+1: 42
GAME: Seldan rolls reunion+se+pa+haste-5: aliased to weapon1+charisma-4+1-5: (19)+24+8+-4+1+-5: 43 (THREAT)
GAME: Seldan rolls reunion+se+pa+haste-5: aliased to weapon1+charisma-4+1-5: (2)+24+8+-4+1+-5: 26 (Not confirmed)
GAME: Seldan rolls reunion+se+pa+haste-10: aliased to weapon1+charisma-4+1-10: (3)+24+8+-4+1+-10: 22
GAME: Seldan rolls reunion+se+pa+haste: aliased to weapon1+charisma-4+1: (20)+24+8+-4+1: 49 (THREAT)
GAME: Seldan rolls reunion+se+pa+haste: aliased to weapon1+charisma-4+1: (10)+24+8+-4+1: 39 (Confirmed)
GAME: Seldan rolls reuniondmg+padmg+sedmg+3: aliased to 1d8+9+8+8+3: (4)+9+8+8+3: 32
GAME: Seldan rolls reuniondmg+padmg+sedmg+3: aliased to 1d8+9+8+8+3: (5)+9+8+8+3: 33
GAME: Seldan rolls reuniondmg+padmg+sedmg+3+reuniondmg+padmg+sedmg+3: aliased to 1d8+9+8+8+3+1d8+9+8+8+3: (7)+9+8+8+3+(8)+9+8+8+3: 71

It's breaking apart. Destroy it, now, before it destroys us.

In every fiber of his being, with all that he is and all that he has, Seldan can feel the surge of the Sea of Mana in and around him, the cooling touch of Eluna and the fire that burns through every inch of him from magical overload. The blood from his eyes near-blinds him, and it's a feel thing, more than the ability to actually see, that guides his hand and his blade. He can't really see the celestial runes that blaze silver-blue across face, hands, skin, runes that are normally only black in sunlight.

He breathes deeply, unable to see the magnificent dragon or spells or the unleashing of total fury from Karelin. All he can do is his bit, and that is pull the Sea of Mana straight through him, and _focus_ it, through Reunion and through his own body. Reunion lashes out, again and again, the final blow sinking hilt-deep into the biggest of the pieces. "BEGONE!" he shouts, ripping the blade free with a twist and a battle cry.

<OOC> Karelin will PA/FF/Haste full attack
GAME: Karelin rolls 1d20+44: (4)+44: 48
GAME: Karelin rolls 1d20+44: (20)+44: 64 (Auto CRIT)
GAME: Karelin rolls 1d20+34: (6)+34: 40
GAME: Karelin rolls 1d20+29: (15)+29: 44
GAME: Karelin rolls 1d20+24: (4)+24: 28
GAME: Karelin rolls 1d10+46+2d6: (6)+46+(7): 59
GAME: Karelin rolls 2d10+92+2d6: (6)+92+(7): 105
GAME: Karelin rolls 1d10+46+2d6: (3)+46+(7): 56
GAME: Karelin rolls 1d10+46+2d6: (3)+46+(8): 57
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Karelin and Seldan are able to finish. destroying the core."

Karelin has something to hit, finally, and he sets to with glee. "Witness," he whispers, 'cause he doesn't need to yell with a godly presence right there. His cuts are precise, powered by impeccable technique, and rather horrible to stand in front of. As it turns out, the Unraveller lives up to its name when the strands of its being are cut.

Between the sheer amount of force arrayed against this physical manifestation of anti-reality.

The light of the moon seems to intensify above you, silvery rays seeming to burn away the shards of blackness that dissipate beneath it...

But not all of them. Still others seem to spread out, pulled in all directions buy the sheer raging force of the Sea that has been held back too long. You can feel it too. Burning your insides.

As though the Void is diluting itself in the Sea of Mana, seeping into all magic, corrupting it.

Lost in a character, lost in herself, the rage wipes the whitescale's rational mind clear, and fills it with fear, survival, and a restless hunger for order. The tyrant's pride cannot accept it needed assistance to renew the Great Seal, and that here, re-enacting, even more is required. Order is being challenged, his order. Maugrim thrashes, snaps, tears at pieces, leaping and twisting at fading fragments, clawing and biting at chunks that melt away. A lashing whirlwind of remorseless fury, like a cat chasing a laser pointer.

It is over. The fight is won. The play is done. Her eyes return to sapphire slices, no longer pools of primal darkness. The rawness of her ravaged heart is wrapped, comforted. Cryo lets go of that which gripped her. It's just a role, not me, I was acting. Even if a malignant seed is there. Or is that the Sea of Mana with its lingering corruption, burning through her. In the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, Cryosanthia is feeling the weight of her new body. Immense, clumsy, she flies awkwardly seeking a safe place to land.

The whitescale has a passing plea: Ceinara, I hope you were watching, the novelization won't be nearly as good.

Karelin looks at the ravaged edge of his sword, and at the wreckage of the Unraveller around him, fading away. He takes a moment to lift his chin to the silver light, blood leaking from his nose and the corner of his mouth.

Serene watches the End brought to the manifestation... then looks in the direction of the moon, closing her eyes briefly as she welcomes its light within her while doing her best to ignore, or at least shunt aside, the pain of the Sea of Mana attempting to disperse her into its depths. Then she releases it in another invigorating boost of positive energy before descending and alighting upon one of the stone islands. "It is time to go. Gather up so that one of our arcanists might get us home."

Cesran is left panting as he finally finishes the ritual and he leans heavily on his staff. He's never felt so exhausted and he winces as he feels the raging forces of the Sea of Mana starting to pull at him. He looks up towards the light of the moon and gives a smile before he bows his head, "Thank you White Magician for watching over us." He looks out at the threads of unreality as they seem to spread out by the sheer power of the Sea of Mana. He looks over to Serene as she heals them, "Thank you again. Yes I have a Gate spell ready. Everyone please start to gather around."

It is over? Aya remains suspicious of the thing that splits apart. It did something similar a moment ago, and the detritus spalling off of it seemed to burn her to the bone, or beyond. Or is that the raging Sea below them? Above them? A sense of direction is a bit harder to track when there is a great deal of EVERYTHING in all directions along with a large chunk of NOTHING that tries to spread out on all directions. Seared souls, flesh, eyes? There's also the small matter of utter exhaustion atop that.

Aya blinks somewhat owlishly and rises fully upright to start moving towards the beckoning. She is a survivor, first and foremost and never one to let something like UNLIMITED POWER coursing through her to make her change her mind. The surge of restoration does help significantly, especially in the realm of seeing where in the hells she's walking. "Yes. No hurry..."

Like sands in an hourglass, bits of fallout slip away, avoiding grasp physical and magical. The construct may be gone, but the implications of its pollution being 'carried out to sea' are clear. This was a pyrrhic victory. Was this Asumit's defeat, or only the setting of his true plan into motion?

A question that will linger and to haunt those who witnessed it.

The surge of healing does help, but Seldan is still definitely looking rough. Blackened skin, covered head to toe in blood - except for armor that glows quietly at the touch of moonlight on it, pristinely clean. Still, though, those runes across his skin in the celestial script, the blue and silver glow only now beginning to fade. He says nothing aloud as he joins the others, only murmuring some quiet prayer to himself with his eyes on the moon above. A paean of his own to the Seeress, no doubt, whispered amid utter, tearing exhaustion and pain - but they have done Her work this day, of that there can be no doubt. That fragments dissipated into the Sea of Mana bothers him, though he says nothing of it.

Cryosanthia is an ominous ruin. She burns, her scales blackening then drifting off like ashen remnants of paper. White scales appearing underneath and repeating the process. Her wings trail a dark smoke, and she is streaked with discharge from her eyes, ears, all over. In appearance, not dissimilar to the her other self. Therein lies the unsettling uncertainty. Is this the good resolution?

The silvery light encompasses her, soothing, and is matched by an inner glow of the power still coursing through. She is shrinking, layer after layer burning off, as if she's shedding scales and aging in reverse. No longer in danger of stepping on someone, she still occupies significant space.

"Um..." Cryo says with effort, "I'm landing, watch out, I dont have good control."

GAME: Cesran casts Gate. Caster Level: 20 DC: 31

Cesran takes a moment then the prepare himself and he starts to cast the spell that will let them travel from here. His skin starts to glow again as the magic from the Sea of Mana, fill his veins to power the spell. He's not tapping directly into the Sea, but it seems to be an after effect of having done so. He opens the gate to let them travel back to where they started, to close the loop. "All right we have about 2 minutes for me to keep this open." He looks up at Cryosanthia, "Just keep it steady and relax, the body will know what to do, just trust it's instincts." He says trying to coach her into a safe landing.

Karelin looks up and around, then starts to move out of the way, wheeling up into the air to clear the landing for the dragon. The not-that-confident dragon. Definitely something to give a wide berth to. He dabs at his eyes, blinking away bloody tears. "Fucking sea of mana."

The shadow above him entices Seldan to interrupt his prayer to look up. "Wings are not made to move vertically," he calls to her, taking several steps out of the way. "Come in at an angle, and arch your wings. It will help slow you."

Despite her call for the withdraw, Serene watches several of the unraveller pieces speed away, eyes hard.. her lips move silently, again, then she shakes her head firmly and steps to the summoned gate. She does not step through. Instead she stands to the side, sheathing her holy sword but keeping a firm grip on Reunion's twisted reflection of a sword.

"The body is tired and wants to sleep." Cryo answers Cesran, and telling herself, two more minutes. She's generally on good terms with her instincts, but her body feels bruised, and burning, her reference points constantly changing. She lurches in elevation with every downsweep, until Seldan's advice, which seems to help. "Thanks... yes, thanks."

It's hard to see, Cryo is not even sure what she's landing on. One of her back feet touches, she tries to stand bipedal and this doesn't work. She pitches forward onto all fours with a heavy thump. "Uff."

Everyone seems to be waiting, she looks at Cesran, then Serene, and Karelin hovering out of the way. "Okay, going through. Thanks Selran." She sounds drowsy.

Cryosanthia tucks in her wings and crawls through the gate.

The stones start to crumble, bit by bit, and Griva blinks her eyes.

"Time to go!" She begins to cast a spell, slowing down long enough for people to gather to her as needed.

Adrenaline still coursing through him, from Her face, from battle, from the rush of wielding near-limitless power in Her name and for Her ends, Seldan holds on near Griva's portal, Reunion still in his hand, waiting for everyone else to go through it before he, too, turns and flees through it.

Those passing through, though, might hear a nasal female voice, twisted in concern. "Seldan, remember your promise to Zeke. You need one now."

"I know, Fallia. I will honor that promise - as soon as we return." Pain lances through the voice, blackened skin cracking as it moves.

And then he, too, is headed through, on his way home, to honor that promise.

Karelin turns, as everything starts to crumble, and darts for Cesran's gate. No time to be picky about what kind of extra-dimensional transport.

Cesran waits for the others to go so he can be the last one and close the Gate behind him. He watches the others make their way through and he waits to make sure Griva can make it through her own. He gives one last long look up towards the moon that's in the sky above the Sea of Mana. He bows his head again reverently before he steps through and closes the Gate behind him.

Aya could remain and enjoy the deteriorating view a bit longer. Probably shouldn't, so won't. She did not voluntarily channel the Sea of Mana, though involuntarily as part of the ritual is not much better. Also, as fast as her blows where, she directly struck the Unraveller, and much like Karelin's sword, its contact strove to undo her.

Force of will and her own connection to primal darkness sustained her, but not without cost. There is an arthritic ache to every joint, as if all her softness was burnt away. A sacrifice the Mul'niessa accepts. No weapon wielded here escaped without cost. She can't see it, can't feel it through the rest of the ache that holds her, but Maugrim's mark is no more. The brand burned with each blow, spreading across her neck into vitiligo illegibility. She has a white spot now.

The dragon is occupying Cesran's gate. Aya could shadow-step home, she is certain, but better to arrive with the group. She appears beside Griva's portal and steps through after Seldan, wryly replying to Falia, "No he won't."

Reverse psychology perhaps?

Serene hesitates a moment longer, then casts a sharp glance at Cesran. "Go!" One word, but it carries weight. Then, Discord still in hand, Serene moves purposefully towards Griva.

Between Griva and Cesran's magic, escape is possible. All reappear in the crystallized lands they started in.

An unsteady moment passed and then each one of the group starts to feel it: violent sickness. Mana poisoning.

Everyone is gonna be SICK and WEAK for a while.

Upon arrival back... home, one might suppose, in the loosest sense of the word.. Serene staggers, then lowers herself to one knee, the sword being driven point first into the ground to help support her. She spends several moments there, motionless save for her expanding and retracting chest, rising and falling shoulders, breathing.

Karelin lands onto solid ground, and starts vomiting blood and mucus. It's not pretty, not in the slightest.

Cesran staggers as he gets back. He unrolls the carpet of flying and manages to get it up and flying before he lands on it and just lays there. "I have a Greater Teleport to get back to the City." He says panting and groaning as his whole body feels like it's on fire again.

Cryosanthia feels a lurch in her stomach, a sickness that makes her curl up and moan. She closes her eyes and wishes the pain away, but that wish is not granted. Her scales smoke, a great cloud of white rising off her as she sublimates away as the mana drains from her. Her makings pulse darkly. There is is the taste of ash and ozone in her nostrils.

They have prevailed. Maybe. At what cost, Kravar and Merek, magic itself? Her future, her soul? Was playing the tyrant too much of a taunt, and bring his displeasure down on her. Eluna's grace was real, but she is not the Dreaming Dragon's, and Ceinara...

... is only interested if it's entertaining.

"I need some help." Cryo murmurs, and passes out.

They will be ill, every one, violently ill for days. Their success was not without cost, the damage will remain. All suffered exposure to the radiation of the Sea. Aya, Seldan, Cesran the most, from their roles in the rite. Cryosanthia, transformed by the energy she struggled to contain and the role she accepted. Serene suffers worst of all, having struggled with the empowered blade snatched from beyond time. Karelin, the ravages of unprotected war against the unknowable.

They will live, the ones that made it out. Not all did. The sacrifices were not in vain. The desperate need drew the attention of the divine, convinced them to bend the rules just a little, o defend magic, to defend the multiverse itself. An imperfect effort, to be sure, and the fallout remains to be seen, but for now, an enemy of magic is vanquished.

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The Mark
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