Author: Jazrael, Posted: Wed Oct 9, 2019 9:10 PM, Post Subject: Mourning [P][EVENT][R]

The noise of the confrontation taking place behind her caught Jazrael’s attention, and she turned around, realizing that this stranger had appeared and begun to attack a herd of creatures that had been about to get the jump on her. She had a moment where she thought to herself about the fact that it was rather lucky he had shown up when he had, being slightly too dumbstruck to do anything about it other than watching what was unfolding. After a bit, however, it seemed that this stranger had things under control, as he had managed to exterminate all of the creatures and it seemed that there were currently none left.

She found herself rather impressed. Though he was out of breath and appeared to be a bit worse for the wear, it seemed as though he hadn’t had much difficulty defeating the creatures. ”Suppose you’re right,” she said, shrugging slightly as she stood up from the place she had sat down earlier. She made her way towards him, taking another long pull of the whiskey she had already been drinking. When she was a few paces from him, she gestured towards the charred remains of the creatures he had dispatched. ”Looks like Roger and his friends aren’t having the best time tonight,” she said with a rather cheeky grin. ”Suppose I owe you a thank you for that, as well,” she added, offering the flask out towards him.

”I guess you could say I am out here mourning the loss of a friend, as it were,” she said, answering a question that had not even been asked of her. ”You ever have those moments where you wonder, why am I even trying anymore? Having one of those moments too. Also having one of those moments where I’m wondering why I care about things, I never used to,” she added, clearly unaware that her train of thought and pattern of speech was rather erratic. ”You’d think I’d be a bit smarter, knowing the marshes are a foreground for these void creatures, but alas, here I am,” she said.

After a moment, she tilted her head at the stranger. ”I’m Jazrael, by the way,” she said, extending her hand towards him in a way of showing that she meant no harm, and a gesture of good will. ”Care if I ask what you’re doing out here by yourself, just as I’m sure you’re wondering the same about me?” she asked, clear curiosity in her voice. She didn’t seem to think he was a part of a troop being led by one of the offensive teams set forth by the gods. ”Whatever your reason for being out here, I must say I’m thankful you showed up when you did. Might have been dinner for those beasts had you not,” she added.

Author: Sebastian Black, Posted: Tue Oct 8, 2019 6:27 AM, Post Subject: Mourning [P][EVENT][R]

What had at first began as reluctant determination became a roaring inferno of righteous fury.
Tasting battle, it seemed, was the tilt necessary to transform Sebastian from scholarly rogue to crusading paladin. It was not the violence itself, though; he had, like so many unfortunate others, been mired in death before. It was experiencing the nature of the great beast that stalked from beyond the Veil that evoked his ire. Watching so many be consumed to sate a bottomless, empty hunger, only to have the mortal coils utterly perverted into such abhorrent forms was reprehensible…to put it in the most mollifying way. Possessing and devouring the physical matter was not enough, either. He had come across many enthralled souls and corrupted shades alongside the denizens of the Void. He would not stand for such depraved atrocities.

There was even more to the complex web of emotions that snared Sebastian into this conflict. Curiously, his motivations were less about the survival of the world than they were personal, at their heart. Being familiarized with Eldritch unknowns as he was, he did not share the desperate hopelessness that most folk harbored when the nightmare began. Now that assaults were well underway, methods of destroying these things had been uncovered, tried, and tested. Gods in this world could fall, and die. So too could a deity from Beyond.
No. What unsettled Sebastian the most was his initial encounters with the malevolent invaders. They all but ignored him, or in some cases even rallied near him as if he were one of their own. He hadn't perceived it at first, but the energy they gave off was very similar to his own aura. Similar, but not the same. Things had changed now after lashing out at the beings, of course. The legion hive mind that Azhizheth and its underlings operated on now knew of him and saw him as a threat. Perhaps this was an odd detail to be expected, having been marked, and at one time unwillingly used by principalities like the World Eater. If there was one thing he had learned about Eldritch entities, they shared things in common with some intelligent mortal races. Mainly in that they are intensely tribalistic, and intrinsically hostile towards one another. In fact, they are so disparate in kind that the energy of one could affect another like one was a priest, and the other a demon being exorcised.

Such was the reaction these creatures had to Sebastian.

He could have let the over-cerebrated dread stop there, but a burning, morbid paranoia and curiosity had formed around it. His trials had come full circle. How much of his will was his own? Was he even human?



Sebastian moved rapidly across the marshes, running, long dark coat billowing, then kicking up vast amounts of water each time he projected himself forward to tree cover with a blink.
The Mystic had left Jasumin in a rush to be of aid in the Copts when the tide of creatures had stemmed for a time thanks to the efforts of resistance. There were high concentrations of poltergeists, banshees, and other shades in the swamps. These were a threat that Sebastian was more capable of dealing with. He had proven to himself that he could go toe-to-toe with the monstrosities as well though, if need be.

Threats here were often found in small, isolated pockets, and the aura glimpsed in a thicket ahead was no exception. Infestors. Not a surprise.
He was quite taken aback to spot a woman they were stalking though, who had stopped to drown her sorrows away in the bottom of a flask. He could smell the liquor from a league off in his heightened, agitated state. What was she doing out here so far from the settled and fortified areas of the marshes?

Not hesitating for a moment, Sebastian rushed toward the creatures, reaching out with his mind and projecting a blanket of telekinetic energy which sent the arachnid-like things nearest the oblivious woman flying and screeching off in random directions. Some struck trees or rocks with enough force to crush them in, splattering the surfaces in their vile ichor. They quickly converged and surrounded him after recovering, skittering towards him in a mad dash. Quickly, Sebastian withdrew his strange onyx-coated chime from his coat, ringing it soundlessly with intent. Whatever imperceptible reverberation the object emitted, it caused the Infestors to pause and writhe in agony. He took this opportunity to use his flint box, normally reserved for smoking his pipe to create a small flame. Taking hold of the embers psionically, they stoked and grew before being pushed out like an intense wave, consuming the otherworldly bugs in an instant.

Panting, soaked through with the scent of the marsh, with an overgrowth of beard and tattered clothes, Sebastian turned to the woman seated on the rock at the edge of the wetlands. His autumnal eyes had been aglow with a fiery inner light which slowly faded as his nerves quieted.
"Now's not a keen time to be wallowing like a little piggy bereft of mud, dear heart!" he called out warmly with a wry grin, in stark contrast to the intimidating display of power he'd just engaged in.

Author: Jazrael, Posted: Mon Oct 7, 2019 8:18 PM, Post Subject: Mourning [P][EVENT][R]

Since the downfall of Dalanesca, Jazrael had felt as though she had been trapped in a strange version of Limbo, which was rather ironic as it had been her least favorite of the Circles when she had been in Dalanesca’s servitude. Before the events that had ended in the former goddess perishing, Jazrael had been in a bout of trouble with her, and as a result she had some of her demonic powers revoked – including the ability to jump bodies – so she was currently stuck in the one she had been in at the time. Unfortunately, Dalanesca had not granted her that particular ability back before she had met an untimely demise.

For all the run ins she had with her former master, there was a part of her that had truly loved Dalanesca as though she had been family, and she felt the pain of her loss rather deeply. A part of her longed to find a way to bring the goddess back, though she knew that there would be no hope with that – it was difficult enough to bring a mortal back when they had met their end – bringing back a goddess, let alone one that had been killed by another goddess – had to be downright impossible.

After a while, Jazrael had retreated to the newly discovered continent of Onnen. She couldn’t bear to be anywhere near anywhere that Dalanesca’s influence had reached, and Onnen seemed the place to be. No one there spoke much of her, and as long as she was able to avoid those who were hostile towards outsiders, things were alright.

Not long after her arrival, word had spread across the entirety of Revaliir that terrible things were happening, and soon after that she found out that Azhizheth, the eldritch monstrosity that had been Dalanesca’s downfall, was leading an attack on the world – a true world eater. She found out that Copts Marsh would be a location of battle, and it was there that she headed, intent on doing her part in destroying the monstrosity.

She had made her way to the marsh but had yet to find the battlefield. In a secluded area, she decided to take a quick rest before moving on any further, pulling a flask from the belt at her hip and taking a long drink of the whiskey held inside. She had never been a fan of the dark liquor, though she had begun partaking in it after Dalanesca’s death, almost in an attempt to carry on her memory.

Finding a boulder near the edge of a swampy area, she sat down to imbibe a bit further before carrying on. ”Damn you, Dal,” she said softly. ”I shouldn’t care about saving this world… I never cared before,” she added, taking another pull from the flask. She continue to mutter to herself as though she were carrying on with the deceased goddess, not as if she were insane, but just someone still in mourning. Through all her talking, she missed the skittering sound of a group of infesters scurrying up behind her, their spider-like limbs carrying them towards the unaware demon at a rapid pace.