Ah, yes, a "pinned post"? That seems doable enough.
I usually don't announce my quirks but...
- I can and will bite the hell out of anyone I choose
- I "swear" and/or use "inappropriate language" (as if fancy names stopped me at all)
- and I may juat threaten some if I please
If you do not like that...
GET OUT OF HERE!!!
Oh, also, if any of you happens to find a certain individual (usually has some form of stripes over his eyes?) could you help keep him away from here?
Disclaimer: they generally have little care for anything except themselves and those closest to them; if your blogs are not related to PK (i.e. shades vessels the whole shebang) they might be too difficult to handle
Also also; their dialogue will be red (as demo-ed) so that anyone wishing to avoid such knows :3
shit I forgot-
This is run by @shinysaremine
This particular one is based on my take on the Grimm Troupe, and may reference violence, alcoholism, able-ism, and/or massochism.
PSA about me
Also tags that'll be used cause ✨organization✨(is great)
kindling - general asks
low burn - short rb clumps
a pit grows - vessel interactions/mentions (may include references to sensative things!!)
burning bright - rp threads
flame to blaze - threads that became (at least partially) serious
ashes to ashes - ooc or just me yapping
fyre crackles - in character yapping
smoke signal - visual description shit (or drawings if I end up doobling smth)
Arc/Story Tags!
under the firelight - Steelwyrm stuff
the broken days - Father. / what was and what is - HIM.
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*The post is simply a video, though it is extremely old...*
*In the primary foreground is Fyre, who was, at the time, mildly bleeding void, as another bug, a wasp or cicada of sorts, tries to offer her help to them, murmuring,*
"Here, just-"
*But they interrupt, growling far more harshly than anytime they'd spoken here,*
"No. I don't need your claws to get my ass up! Piss off already, Rosé!"
*As they decide to snarl such, they also swat away her claw with their own, nearly swiping her arm in the process as they get themselves up and just take a few steps away from her before whipping around and bolting off, form fully coated in flame all the while.*
My best memory of my 'childhood' (if one could remotely call it that) was moreso being under Father's claws and attempting at purity. Or, rather, being pure enough for him.
Toss up between that and actually managing to make a proper friend... *They trail off, sounding oddly uncertain.*
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*all is peaceful. all is quiet. all is as it should be as those who have earned victory celebrate or rest, relieved that this is finally well and truly over. at long last, the Steelwyrm had been felled and his city turned to rubble. slaves and nobles and surviving Sentinels all stand, confused, lost, without purpose, without home, and the heated rubble where the Pale King had speared the ground with endless nails of soul sits there smoking, a stain left behind
...
until it moves. the pile shifts, rocks falling to the side as a single grey hand pierces though the mess, bloodied and broken. the Steelwyrm crawls free, maskless, amrourless, and completely and utterly defeated. he crawls up, shaking with agony and effort, his voice a rough slurred growl*
You.... haven't won..... I... am the one who... wins!!
*Glacier steps on the Steelwyrm’s head, pin in their hand*
*They won. The person who harmed Pane, their father, and who knows how many other is at their mercy. If this was only a few months ago, maybe they’d consider a peaceful approach, a pacifist way to end this, but now? Now, when they’ve seen so much loss, killed so many people?*
*…*
*Their throat is closed up, and yet…*
H…e..he…h…
*They laugh. The sound isn’t a true laugh, more of wind echoing through ice in a sound that slightly resembles a laugh, but it gets louder, more joyful (or crazy). They fucking won*
Dryya punches Xero to the ground and kicks Glacier down from the Steelwyrm's head. She was not going to stand for torture. She bows down and heals the injury Xero caused.
"If you're in this army, you adhere to our laws! If you lay a cruel claw on him, I will fucking kill you! Baldwin, make sure nobody hurts him. The order to execute is the Pale King's, until then he's a prisoner of war and shall not be harmed!"
..It's over. The fight is over. Blood is on her mouth and paws, and her fur is matted and stained, paws (claws? they were unsure) gripping the ground. There is a few seconds of silence from them, heaving breaths from something further than just exhaustion - staring down the Steelwyrm, waiting for any sense of him still being a potential threat.
Something in them hurts. Not a "what have I done" hurt, more of internal wounds from getting electrocuted and also shot at several times.
In the back of their mind, the moon was a crimson red. In the back of their mind, they wanted to rip further, but the pain of several wounds forced her to reconsider.
They still stand. They want to see their kin again.
They snap teeth at Steelwyrm, hissing out words that came half-formed and not at ALL comprehensible, wincing every couple of steps as they turn and just... walk away. Where are they going? Only they really know. Preferably somewhere quiet.
So THIS is what the once great Steelwyrm has been reduced to. Pathetic.
Dew turns toward Dryya.
“…Execution? Execution is too kind a mercy for this thing. It deserves to slowly, painfully bleed out as the light leaves its eyes.”
They turn back toward the collapsed Steelwyrm, glaring at it.
“I used to fear you. Growing up, I heard tales of the horrifying Steelwyrm who ripped Zenith District from us and maimed or killed many Gods of Steel. Your mere presence exuded a suffocating pressure that would kill any normal bug, or so we were told.”
And yet, you were defeated. By mere mortals. How more pathetic can you get? What was it all even for, huh? To obtain a mate that you knew would not last? That you knew despised you? I believe that is what the modern bugs call “Incel Behavior.”
“Like I said earlier, execution is too kind a mercy for you.”
Dew blinks, and one of his eyes glows yellow.
“But we’re sure whatever painful death the king comes up for you will be far worse than if we had simply killed you here and now.”
Dew blinks and his eyes return to normal. He stands up and glares at the Wyrm one last time before walking back to the others.
*All they leave, ironically, is silence, before they take their sibling from their shoulders and place them next to Dryya, simply telling her,* Keep them away. They needn't hear this.
*Then, with every ounce of void in them taut as a bowstring, they stalk up to the Steelwyrm, glaring down at him with undisguised hatred, before they just allow first their tail and hind limbs to gain flame, which spreads rapidly until they are covered from horns to tail tips in said red.*
*Just as promptly, a single claw is flameless and allowed to drag across the wyrm's exposed back (belly?) not quite burning, yet certainly feeling hotter than it should be, as they hiss coldly (yet inaudibly to anyone else save Steel),*
I have seen the fall of many a kingdom, caused a great deal of death and destruction myself. Yet... stood in front of a mirror, I see nothing but impurity.
I may have managed to convince others of a persona, displayed plenty of myself, but you... your exposed yourself the moment you attempted to assasinate the second king, likely even before.
... I can only hope you see your grand failure and feel nothing but shame for what you have wrought.
*Then, scraping the blunt side of all four claws along his body, they stand proper and walk away, flames vanishing.*
*fragile it looks. small. shaking. in pain. the Steelwyrm finds himself feeling a sliver of regret. finds himself feeling a fragment of pity for it, a slice of empathy as the Whitewyrm almost sways on its feet, eyes unfocused behind the clouds of dancing veils draped over its dimutive form. not long now though. no, not long. not long until he has claimed his deserved reward. not long until he can finally own his mate of old. Delphinium, that root, that stupid moth... all of them have lost and he? oh how he has won! how he has claimed victory! how he has—*
We did not think one would show ones face here. After all, is it not painful to see one's mate take the hand of another?
*the Steelwyrm steps forth, looking down from the grand stage at the gathering of pathetic little morsels headed by the moth who, by all accounts, should be rotting on the ground somewhere. persistent little mite, isn't he? and his friends too. a rough shove has the Whitewyrm positioned behind him, out of sight out of mind, but that damned dream drenched mortal simply stares him down, practically vibrating with rage so hot it could melt the very metal his city is built from. well, this'll be a bit of entertainment for the crowd...*
So... that's how it is. Very well. Fight well, Our friends! May glory guide your souls unto oblivion! To the visitors, I offer the first blow!
[Steelwyrm health 1000/1000]
[Pale King health 100/1000]
*the crowd erupts into cheers louder than ever, echoing through the eletric air, breaking the tense silence with revelry untold. this is it, the grand finale!*
*there he is. there! right there! dressed in a gown so artificial, so stifling, so unlike him that for a moment Lurien barely even knows its his Strelitzia, His Beloved. he looks... thin, broken, he doesn't even respond when shoved, he doesn't even look towards him. void below what has this shitworm done?!*
[Lurien health 300/300]
[Lurien rolled 5d20 to attack! 20 + 20 + 12 + 14 + 13; total 79 damage!]
*he leaps into the air, his wings spread in a flash of vivid blue but his pin strikes in an arc of gold; glimmering and perfect and almost sickly. almost like a memory of the infection that destroyed Hallownest. he jabs and slashes at the Steelwyrm in a frenzied furious flurry, the blaze of dreams at his command fueling him even further*
Dryya remembers the advice Pieris had given the group. The bastard could burn, huh? See if that'd do him good. Dryya summons in her hand the only spell she knew besides Focus.
Soulfire, a white burning plasma of Soul harvested from the Blackguard. She winds up and tosses it straight at the Steelwyrm.
Holy fucking shit, and here i thought that i was surrouned by the biggest bitches and morons in the world, but now that i have meet you, i can see i was wrong on both of those.
Did you really think that you could take our bitch from us, then you must have severe brain damage.
I'll ignore how comically evil you are, which by the way you must be compensating it for something.
I'll say this too, a face that not even your mother would love, and dressed like that, you must think that you are the most beautiful thing around, but i have seen roadkill from a stag prettier than your face alone.
Fucker is so ugly you should be put in a show about animals, just need some old geezer doing a voice over.
I can't even remember what your kid said, but i can see that your ugly ass got the least protective shell i have ever seen, and already know what i should do.
Xero arm changes and he starts shooting fireballs at the ugly freak.
I was going to say this is going to make you prettier, but not even you being born a different person would make you that.
[Steelwyrm rolled 10d20 to defend; 143 total; total defence 243]
[Steewyrm rolled 5d20 to heal; 52 total]
[Steelwyrm health 909]
*he simply dodges and walks around most attacks, the pathetic insults rolling from him and the flames of soul and Xero's fireballs licking at him but he hardly seems to give a care, almost laughing as he rips soul from the Whitewyrm cowering behind him, the poor thing screaming in pain as he does so*
[Pale King health 95/1000]
You are good, but, not that good We are afraid.
[Steelwyrm rolled 10d20 to attack; 80 total]
*a slave bows before him and with a swift motion, a single touch, their body is torn asunder, their shell reforming, their limbs snapinng, as they become a blade for their master. with a sick twisted laugh the Steelwyrm dances through his enemies, slashing and stabbing. Lurien, Dryya, Baldwin and Xero take 20 damage each!*
*Glacier is shaking with rage, staring at the Steelwyrm. How dare he first take Pane, weak and suffering, to get close to their dad, and how DARE he hurt their dad, break and harm him, thinking he's on top of the world?*
*The temperature around them drops slightly, the tip of their pin becoming coated in ice. Their throat feels closed up, but they don't mind. They don't need breath after all*
*The Steelwyrm's weak to fire, they know this. They should be at a disadvantage, since ice is their weapon as well as their pin. But they can help their allies by cooling the Steelwyrm down, no?*
I swear... with every fiber of my being... you will pay for everything you did... for Dad... for Pane... I will make sure you die!
*They stab the ground, causing giant icicles to erupt from the ground in the Steelwyrm's direction*
[20 + 20 + 13 + 19 + 13 = 85 damage! (since it's a big attack I'm using all the dice for it)]
*Initially, the ironically familiar larger vessel's eyes widen, shock and annoyence fighting for dominance all the while, before they force neutrality and coldly (ha the irony) state,*
Well. Short time no see, steel problem.
*Before both their 'hands' clench and gain flame and, with both, they two massive fireballs are sent directly at the shit- Steelwyrm.*
*Though, once thrown, the tension in their partner is quite obvious, as they just nudge their sibling, who glances down and immediatly murmurs a "oops" while slightly retracting their claws.*
(Combat Rolls! 6, 12, 14, 18, 19, 69 damage!)
(Total HP: 300/300)
The air shifts, dropping a few degrees in temperature - the only warning before The Biting Wind -shatters- the veilstep that was shrouding them. That was their target, their focus isn't even on the Pale King (though, seeing the state he was in… it only made their blood boil more.)
This ends HERE, is the only screaming thought in that mind of theirs, the fury alone biting at their mouth, demanding they bare their teeth early.
They do not. Instead, they charge forward, only opening their jaws to try to catch the blade-arm to mitigate further damage. Reckless? Yes. Was there a plan behind that? Also yes.
The only actual sentence from them was a violent warcry in words that only they knew.
BANDU THORIBAS! CUT HIM DOWN!
[Steelwyrm rolled 10d20 to defend; total 127; total defence 227]
[Steelwyrm health 816/1000]
*a barrier deflects all but the flames, with a hiss the Steelwyrm shows signs that his defence is starting to waver! but, his rage, his fury, his willingness to attack has not*
[Steelwyrm rolled 15d20 to attack; total 200!]
*the blade forged from slave is driven into the metal at his feet as he raises both hands to the sky. as if summoning down the unseen and distant stars shimmering glitter begins to drift down before, sudden, violent, the Steelwyrm drops both hands, bringing down a storm of lighting. each party member takes 16 damage!*
[20 + 16 for Lurien, Dryya, Baldwin and Xero]
Strelitzia... I believe you have sat idle long enough. Come, show them that you are not bound by mortality. Show them how powerful you truly are!
*for the first time, he moves. lurches. like something on a string. like a ball jointed doll with loose limbs. like someone half-starved and fully mad. he staggars and sways up to stand besides the Steelwyrm, the too long veil draped around his wasting form billowing out behind him*
[the pale king The Steel Bride rolls 5d20 to attack; 20 + 20 + 19 + 18 + 18; total 95]
*without hesitation a single pale hand grips at his chest pulling free something brilliant, something blinding. a blade forged from the purest of soul. and once again, no hesitation, no signs of free thought in his head, he lunges, the blade blazing with soul fire as he attempts to slice Lurien's head clean from his shoulders. black leaks from his mouth, clearly this action pains him more that he is allowed to voice*
The few memories of him she had flashed before her eyes. Mostly, they took place in his workshop, or the White Palace.
He was never a great father. But he clearly cared.
... And now, here he was.
Battered. Clearly worse for wear.
... And then he was attacking his own... Watcher? She did not know his relationship with Lurien, nor did she especially care.
She didn't even care about the lightning(?) that struck her.
She simply walked forward, interposing herself between the moth(?) and the Wyrm, and then grabbed her father, Silk flying from her spine as she attempted to mend the King's wounds.
(4 + 5 + 8 + 11 = 28 healing for the Pale King)
... And then did her best to restrain her father and keep him from harming anyone else
(17 to tie him up. Uh. You get to determine what effect, if any, that has).
*Herrahs eyes widened when she saw the pale king. She had always seen him as pathetic, weak, not worth the worship he gets. she always saw him and revolted in disgust as she does to all pale beings... but now when she looks at him she just feels... pity. Sad, even. Why was that?*
*she snarls and rushes for steelwyrm, claws bared. She came here for battle... to support Lurien... but she felt more purpose behind her attacks now. She didnt understand why or where it came from, but she would fight to the end regardless.*
The feeling of the Void within the king is... palpable.
... He cannot say, from this distance, whether or not he can cure the King for certain. But he is almost certain he can't. He can MAYBE by the King a little bit more time before being completely killed by moving it away from the King's vital organs. Perhaps, if he were to spend every waking moment with the King and then never ever sleep, he could keep the King alive for... a year? A month? A week?
But he would just be delaying the inevitable.
He's not even going to try to heal the King. It seems like, er... The small one with the Silk, and... the one with the hammer... have it covered...
Uunvraxis doesn't know these bugs' names. The only name here he knows is that of Lurien.
So, Uunvraxis turns to the Steelwyrm, and he says,
"My ancestors wielded the darkness that lies deep within the bowels of the earth.
"I am the first in generations to wield this nothingness as well.
"I understand it better than almost anyone else here.
"It is the scourge of all life. Including your own.
"And it is only deadlier with a will to compell it.
"You cannot hope to win this fight so long as I am here. And here I stand; here I'll stay."
Using all of his might, enhanced by the Shaman Stone, Uunvraxis casts Nightfall Spear, the Void-based, Soul-infused projectile hurling itself at the Steelwyrm.
(2(5 + 10 + 12 + 17) = 88 damage received (OOC: OH MY FUCKING GOD THAT IS NOT ENOUGH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)
... And then, with a flash of Soul along his shell, Uunvraxis heals his own wounds.
[Steelwyrm rolled 5d20 to defend; total 63; total defence 143]
[Steelwyrm health 762]
*the pimpillos blind the Steelwyrm for a moment, enough time for Herrah to make a dent in him, enough time for the Nightfall Spear to hit, but he recovers, growling but not at the party, at the other Wyrm*
How pathetic is one to accept heals from the enemy?! Strelitzia; I once considered you my better but no longer! Act your part!
[Steelwyrm rolled 5d20 to attack the Pale King! total damage; 45]
[Pale King health 102/1000]
*the Steelwyrm drags his 'mate' away from the troublesome moth before striking him hard across the face, knocking him to the ground in a heap of limbs and silks. for a moment, he simply lays there before slowly pulling himself up. the look given to the Steelwyrm is proof enough there is still some of him left in there, buried under the murk. in his rage, the steelwyrm forgets who he is fighting and neglects to attack!*
[Lurien rolls 5d20 to defend; 20 + 19 + 17 + 16 + 10; total 82]
[Lurien health 251/300]
*he's able to dodge the Steelwyrm by flapping his wings and dancing out of the way, no problem, he's smaller and faster and smarter than he is, even the soul lightning isn't a bother as he takes the chance to dive out of the way, but, that's when things start to go wrong
Strelitzia moves. and he moves quick. quicker than Lurien does, he knows that for certain, they have fought before. he won by dumb luck but here, when its real, when its so very real, its all he can do to block as many swipes, his shell crackling under the heat of the soul flame wreathed blade*
Love. Love its me, I'm here, I came for you I'm here I'm here. Please please hear me. Look! Look even Herrah came to save your rear! Even Hornet came all the way from Pharloom! You don't want to let her down, do you? Come on, you... you know me... You know me...
*his words don't seem to make a difference... for now*
Dryya had been smacked and struck by lightning, the aftermath of which still tingled in her system. But she smiles at the wound over her side. The blade had cut through the armor and dealt damage. Nut well, that'd be something for Thistle to look at.
(264/300)
Dryya stands up and rushes at the Steelwyrm again, clambering up on his back and attempting to saw through his armor to slice his throat.
*This time, upon registering the events, the larger vessel (with the small one holding on for dear life-) just looses a vast majority of whatever composure they had, giving a wordless, flat-out angry scream and lunging for the Steelwyrm themselves, arms ablaze as they swipe at him with both sets of blazing claws, as the general vicinity has suddenly begun to heat in spite of the prior cold.*
*(Why is there smoke coming from them? That is unusual...)*
(Combat Rolls! 17, 8, 19, 4, 18, 66 damage!)
(Total HP: 284/300)
The lightning bolts from earlier find purchase into North's fur, slicing clean. The only noise they make is a furious growl, feeling their blood already matting their fur.
They need to keep adding pressure, hackles bristled and already feeling their fury roil underneath both old and new wounds and thick fur. Cut him off from the Pale King, RIP HIM APART, was the current plan. And when they see an opportunity, they take it.
North swings back around, and snaps teeth again at the same blade, trying to put themselves between the Steelwyrm and the Pale King, baring teeth to the gum and ears so pulled back they could be possibly considered as part of their fur, keeping themselves almost firmly in place.
They aren't moving out of the way. They WON'T MOVE, watching almost too intensely.
Dew is knocked back by the lightning strike, just barely avoiding lethal areas.
I see now.
Hmm?
It’s Soul Manipulation. The Steelwyrm is using him as a Power Source.
Without an Extractor? He thought only beings of the Void could do that. Hell, even the Gods of Steel needed to use Extractors to get to Soul out of someone.
The Steelwyrm has an awesome amount of power. I have no doubt it figured out a way to do so. And it did so in a terrifying way as well. Look at the Pale King. He doesn’t even look alive. He might as well be a walking corpse.
…So then what do they do?
Isn’t it obvious? We kill the king. Cut off the Power Source, weaken the Wyrm.
WHAT? DIDN’T THEY COME TO SAVE THE PALE KING?
The others came to save the Pale King. We are here to kill the Steelwyrm.
Can’t they try to bring reason to the Pale King?
I have seen the way the Steelwyrm is able to break those in its captivity. The Pale King is gone. We’re putting down a shell.
But Lurien-
Will come to understand someday. The lives of millions of innocents are not outweighed by the life of one broken king.
Dew pauses. And then, he does something he has not done in a long time.
“…May the gods above forgive me for what I am about to do.”
And then Dew spins around…
…Turning his weapon right onto the Pale King. He fires, once, twice, thrice, four times, and then charges in to strike with his nail.
[Dew rolled 50 to attack the Steel Bride (9+18+7+9+7)]
[Steelwyrm rolled 5d20 to defend; total 61; total defence 121]
[Steelwyrm health 626/1000]
*his armour is beginning to weaken, it won't hold much longer, it can't hold much longer but, upon seeing one enemy raise their weapon towards his conquest, towards his bride, he growls in fury, whole body shaking with it, but... he is too late to defend it. he is too slow to block the blow. instead he howls, a great warbling screech that shakes the ground spilts the very sky. it sounds like the promise of utter destruction...*
[Steelwyrm rolled 20d20 to attack; total 400; each party member taks 33 damage unless blocked]
*he raises up to his full height, an imposing terrible thing, all sharp corners, all trembling rage. and his maw splits open, jagged and cruel, head raised to the heavens and with a scream, louder than before, terrible, enough to quiet the cheering crowds and again rains down a storm of lightening bolts, more powerful than before, searing bright and angry. so very angry. you should not have done that...*
*Lurien cries out, an anguished pitiful thing, as the shots jerk him left and right before the nail knocks him down. but once more, he raises, jittery and shaking and... his eyes, black, glassy, unseeing, unfeeling snap onto a new target now. the one who dared to harm, dared to injure, dared to... dared to... in its confusion, the Steel Bride attacks the Steelwyrm*
[The Steel Bride rolls 5d20 to attack; 20 + 19 + 15 + 14 + 10; total 78 damage!]
*hands raised, a five gleaming nails are summon and shot towards the Steelwyrm, shattering into millions of razor sharp shards upon contact, becoming a whirlwind of cutting blades. when it is finished, the Bride doubles over and vomits black onto the ground*
Maybe Uunvraxis should have blocked the attack. Maybe he shoud have.
But he didn't.
He was one of this team's best weapons against the Steelwyrm. He would not let them down. He would trust the others to heal him when necessary. He would not fail.
Just in case, he began inching closer to the Pale King, who was currently vomiting Void (that perhaps Uunvraxis could use his Void control on at some point) and surrounded by the other healers who, if Uunvraxis was lucky, would spare some time to heal him. He hoped. He sincerely hoped.
Uunvraxis did, however, spare some time to heal himself, at least.
(13 = 13 healing received)
Then, he reached out his hand and cast Razor Shadow.
Sharp tendrils of Void emerged from his palm and fingers, huge and lashing, before slashing at the Steelwyrm
*neath his feet the city trembles fiercely groaning and screaming and... it sways, lurches, enough for the whole stage to shift to wobble, enough to knock him off his feet, a sharp clawed hand daring to reach out towards the Whitewyrm but he is too far away, too distant, and he fails
below, something... happens. the legs buckle under the force of several large explosions, their joints melting, tearing, shattering but those flames, foolishly set, put something else in motion. the army, the legion that has done war with his own soliders, they had won, they had shattered the gate and slaughtered their way through the sentinels and they had injected into the very pipes and corridors of his beloved creation a gas. poisonous... and explosive
those bombs create a spark, a flame, one that mingles with the gas, one that causes a chain reaction, one that rends the city of steel once and for all
the Steelwyrm panics, flapping his wings but is unable to take off as his home lists to the side, sending hordes of nobles sliding and skittering through the city streets, upending buildings, shattering all he's created. he howls for it, mourns for it, is unable to escape from it...
*Lurien panics. because of course he does, what else can he do, what else is there to do? he panics. he panics and like the Steelwyrm he lunges for Strelitzia. but unlike that bastard, he is fast enough, mobile enough, close enough, to reach, to grasp, to feel his heart thump in his chest as finally, finally, he can wrap his arms around him, as he can shelter that pale face in his shoulder, as he can hold him
at last. at last... its over, isn't it?*
I've got you love. I promised I'd save you, didn't I? I've got you now, it's done, it's over, I'm here.
*and he means it. it truly is over, the end, because Lurien despite not having the blessing of foresight knows that there is no way any of them are surviving this. killed in the explosions. crushed by rubble. dead and gone and—
a hand balls in his robes, one not his own, one with clipped claws, small and thin but strong enough to tear the fabric, strong enough to tell him his thoughts are stupid and that he's an idiot for giving up so easily
he looks around as one by one his allies, friends and strangers both, vanish in flashes of shimmering silvery light, safely taken away from here, safely saved from the crumbling city around
he stares at the falling buildings, flaps his wings as hard as he can to slow their plummet into the awaiting doom and for a moment, the world, it goes white...
and Lurien, his allies, the Pale King, even the support group, even the slaves and living nobles, all safely find themselves in the bloodied sand of the surface below with the Steelwyrm nowhere to be seen...*
*the sand. the cold. the air. the breeze upon his shell. the arms holding him tight. the solid reality of it all. the way it slams into him, more real than anything has ever been, more real than anything he's felt for... too long. far too long. far far too long. his claws twist in Lurien's cloak, his breath comes fast, fast fast fast, burning in his throat, stinging in his mouth as he gasps, ragged and real
so so real*
"I have you I'm here it's okay you're okay you're here I'm here everything is fine everything is okay—"
*Lurien is practically wrapped around him like a scarf at this point, mumbling repeating nonsense like it makes sense, like it makes it real but... he can see the way this all ends so clearly now, like glass, like a mirror, and all it does is make him sink his claws in, all it makes him do is cling even harder but—
a sound
a shuffle
the Pale King lifts his head from where it is buried in Lurien's shoulder as the battered form of the Steelwyrm crawls out of the smouldering wreakage of the city. with a snarl, the broken lord stands. that snarl becomes a scream. the scream causes the ruins to heave and shift. those ruins become form, the form of limbs and torso and head, the form of cannons and weapons and punishment
as the Steelwyrm rises as a hulking behemoth of metal and war, the battle has not ended but now, now... he is free to fight*
We talk later, thou all shouldst ready thine claws to end this once and for all!
Dryya is not doing too well. She had been hit by lightning twice, the second of which had knocked her out. Now, she was awake, dust in her armor and lungs. But, she sits up, because they had won.
Until they hadn't. The Steelwyrm rises as a hulking mass of metal, and Dryya is so over it. She just wanted to go back home.
So, she pushes herself up and conjures two flaming masses to toss at the beast.
Bold words from a dead man. Ones mother must weep for having a wretch as a child.
[Steelwyrm rolls 25d20 to attack; 261 total! all members of the part take 20 damage!]
*the mechanincal suit the Steelwyrm resides within whips its tail left and right in rapid motions, compartments on the side of it clicking open with small hisses of steam before a barrage of missiles shoot out, peppering the battlefields with explosions that ring out in the heavy silence*
*They stare up at the Steelwyrm, anger still coursing through them. Their throat gets even tighter, more restricted, the air dropping to a freezing temperature, as they summon more icicles to stab into the Steelwyrm*
*They just... stare for a moment, processing all that happened while very much forgetting to defend themselves and tanking the explosions (lucky them; they've a resistence to such) before just rushing the Steelwyrm once more, though this time, their arms and tail are both on fire, as they not only slash at the legs of the mech, but tail whip one while moving back away.*
*(No more smoke... for now.)*
(17, 18, 12 -> 47 × 2 -> 94 damage dealt!)
*All the while, their partner in arms- sibling decides to use the opportunity (and soul gained from taking hits) to heal both of them.*
*fragile it looks. small. shaking. in pain. the Steelwyrm finds himself feeling a sliver of regret. finds himself feeling a fragment of pity for it, a slice of empathy as the Whitewyrm almost sways on its feet, eyes unfocused behind the clouds of dancing veils draped over its dimutive form. not long now though. no, not long. not long until he has claimed his deserved reward. not long until he can finally own his mate of old. Delphinium, that root, that stupid moth... all of them have lost and he? oh how he has won! how he has claimed victory! how he has—*
We did not think one would show ones face here. After all, is it not painful to see one's mate take the hand of another?
*the Steelwyrm steps forth, looking down from the grand stage at the gathering of pathetic little morsels headed by the moth who, by all accounts, should be rotting on the ground somewhere. persistent little mite, isn't he? and his friends too. a rough shove has the Whitewyrm positioned behind him, out of sight out of mind, but that damned dream drenched mortal simply stares him down, practically vibrating with rage so hot it could melt the very metal his city is built from. well, this'll be a bit of entertainment for the crowd...*
So... that's how it is. Very well. Fight well, Our friends! May glory guide your souls unto oblivion! To the visitors, I offer the first blow!
[Steelwyrm health 1000/1000]
[Pale King health 100/1000]
*the crowd erupts into cheers louder than ever, echoing through the eletric air, breaking the tense silence with revelry untold. this is it, the grand finale!*
*there he is. there! right there! dressed in a gown so artificial, so stifling, so unlike him that for a moment Lurien barely even knows its his Strelitzia, His Beloved. he looks... thin, broken, he doesn't even respond when shoved, he doesn't even look towards him. void below what has this shitworm done?!*
[Lurien health 300/300]
[Lurien rolled 5d20 to attack! 20 + 20 + 12 + 14 + 13; total 79 damage!]
*he leaps into the air, his wings spread in a flash of vivid blue but his pin strikes in an arc of gold; glimmering and perfect and almost sickly. almost like a memory of the infection that destroyed Hallownest. he jabs and slashes at the Steelwyrm in a frenzied furious flurry, the blaze of dreams at his command fueling him even further*
Dryya remembers the advice Pieris had given the group. The bastard could burn, huh? See if that'd do him good. Dryya summons in her hand the only spell she knew besides Focus.
Soulfire, a white burning plasma of Soul harvested from the Blackguard. She winds up and tosses it straight at the Steelwyrm.
Holy fucking shit, and here i thought that i was surrouned by the biggest bitches and morons in the world, but now that i have meet you, i can see i was wrong on both of those.
Did you really think that you could take our bitch from us, then you must have severe brain damage.
I'll ignore how comically evil you are, which by the way you must be compensating it for something.
I'll say this too, a face that not even your mother would love, and dressed like that, you must think that you are the most beautiful thing around, but i have seen roadkill from a stag prettier than your face alone.
Fucker is so ugly you should be put in a show about animals, just need some old geezer doing a voice over.
I can't even remember what your kid said, but i can see that your ugly ass got the least protective shell i have ever seen, and already know what i should do.
Xero arm changes and he starts shooting fireballs at the ugly freak.
I was going to say this is going to make you prettier, but not even you being born a different person would make you that.
[Steelwyrm rolled 10d20 to defend; 143 total; total defence 243]
[Steewyrm rolled 5d20 to heal; 52 total]
[Steelwyrm health 909]
*he simply dodges and walks around most attacks, the pathetic insults rolling from him and the flames of soul and Xero's fireballs licking at him but he hardly seems to give a care, almost laughing as he rips soul from the Whitewyrm cowering behind him, the poor thing screaming in pain as he does so*
[Pale King health 95/1000]
You are good, but, not that good We are afraid.
[Steelwyrm rolled 10d20 to attack; 80 total]
*a slave bows before him and with a swift motion, a single touch, their body is torn asunder, their shell reforming, their limbs snapinng, as they become a blade for their master. with a sick twisted laugh the Steelwyrm dances through his enemies, slashing and stabbing. Lurien, Dryya, Baldwin and Xero take 20 damage each!*
*Glacier is shaking with rage, staring at the Steelwyrm. How dare he first take Pane, weak and suffering, to get close to their dad, and how DARE he hurt their dad, break and harm him, thinking he's on top of the world?*
*The temperature around them drops slightly, the tip of their pin becoming coated in ice. Their throat feels closed up, but they don't mind. They don't need breath after all*
*The Steelwyrm's weak to fire, they know this. They should be at a disadvantage, since ice is their weapon as well as their pin. But they can help their allies by cooling the Steelwyrm down, no?*
I swear... with every fiber of my being... you will pay for everything you did... for Dad... for Pane... I will make sure you die!
*They stab the ground, causing giant icicles to erupt from the ground in the Steelwyrm's direction*
[20 + 20 + 13 + 19 + 13 = 85 damage! (since it's a big attack I'm using all the dice for it)]
*Initially, the ironically familiar larger vessel's eyes widen, shock and annoyence fighting for dominance all the while, before they force neutrality and coldly (ha the irony) state,*
Well. Short time no see, steel problem.
*Before both their 'hands' clench and gain flame and, with both, they two massive fireballs are sent directly at the shit- Steelwyrm.*
*Though, once thrown, the tension in their partner is quite obvious, as they just nudge their sibling, who glances down and immediatly murmurs a "oops" while slightly retracting their claws.*
(Combat Rolls! 6, 12, 14, 18, 19, 69 damage!)
(Total HP: 300/300)
The air shifts, dropping a few degrees in temperature - the only warning before The Biting Wind -shatters- the veilstep that was shrouding them. That was their target, their focus isn't even on the Pale King (though, seeing the state he was in… it only made their blood boil more.)
This ends HERE, is the only screaming thought in that mind of theirs, the fury alone biting at their mouth, demanding they bare their teeth early.
They do not. Instead, they charge forward, only opening their jaws to try to catch the blade-arm to mitigate further damage. Reckless? Yes. Was there a plan behind that? Also yes.
The only actual sentence from them was a violent warcry in words that only they knew.
BANDU THORIBAS! CUT HIM DOWN!
[Steelwyrm rolled 10d20 to defend; total 127; total defence 227]
[Steelwyrm health 816/1000]
*a barrier deflects all but the flames, with a hiss the Steelwyrm shows signs that his defence is starting to waver! but, his rage, his fury, his willingness to attack has not*
[Steelwyrm rolled 15d20 to attack; total 200!]
*the blade forged from slave is driven into the metal at his feet as he raises both hands to the sky. as if summoning down the unseen and distant stars shimmering glitter begins to drift down before, sudden, violent, the Steelwyrm drops both hands, bringing down a storm of lighting. each party member takes 16 damage!*
[20 + 16 for Lurien, Dryya, Baldwin and Xero]
Strelitzia... I believe you have sat idle long enough. Come, show them that you are not bound by mortality. Show them how powerful you truly are!
*for the first time, he moves. lurches. like something on a string. like a ball jointed doll with loose limbs. like someone half-starved and fully mad. he staggars and sways up to stand besides the Steelwyrm, the too long veil draped around his wasting form billowing out behind him*
[the pale king The Steel Bride rolls 5d20 to attack; 20 + 20 + 19 + 18 + 18; total 95]
*without hesitation a single pale hand grips at his chest pulling free something brilliant, something blinding. a blade forged from the purest of soul. and once again, no hesitation, no signs of free thought in his head, he lunges, the blade blazing with soul fire as he attempts to slice Lurien's head clean from his shoulders. black leaks from his mouth, clearly this action pains him more that he is allowed to voice*
The few memories of him she had flashed before her eyes. Mostly, they took place in his workshop, or the White Palace.
He was never a great father. But he clearly cared.
... And now, here he was.
Battered. Clearly worse for wear.
... And then he was attacking his own... Watcher? She did not know his relationship with Lurien, nor did she especially care.
She didn't even care about the lightning(?) that struck her.
She simply walked forward, interposing herself between the moth(?) and the Wyrm, and then grabbed her father, Silk flying from her spine as she attempted to mend the King's wounds.
(4 + 5 + 8 + 11 = 28 healing for the Pale King)
... And then did her best to restrain her father and keep him from harming anyone else
(17 to tie him up. Uh. You get to determine what effect, if any, that has).
*Herrahs eyes widened when she saw the pale king. She had always seen him as pathetic, weak, not worth the worship he gets. she always saw him and revolted in disgust as she does to all pale beings... but now when she looks at him she just feels... pity. Sad, even. Why was that?*
*she snarls and rushes for steelwyrm, claws bared. She came here for battle... to support Lurien... but she felt more purpose behind her attacks now. She didnt understand why or where it came from, but she would fight to the end regardless.*
The feeling of the Void within the king is... palpable.
... He cannot say, from this distance, whether or not he can cure the King for certain. But he is almost certain he can't. He can MAYBE by the King a little bit more time before being completely killed by moving it away from the King's vital organs. Perhaps, if he were to spend every waking moment with the King and then never ever sleep, he could keep the King alive for... a year? A month? A week?
But he would just be delaying the inevitable.
He's not even going to try to heal the King. It seems like, er... The small one with the Silk, and... the one with the hammer... have it covered...
Uunvraxis doesn't know these bugs' names. The only name here he knows is that of Lurien.
So, Uunvraxis turns to the Steelwyrm, and he says,
"My ancestors wielded the darkness that lies deep within the bowels of the earth.
"I am the first in generations to wield this nothingness as well.
"I understand it better than almost anyone else here.
"It is the scourge of all life. Including your own.
"And it is only deadlier with a will to compell it.
"You cannot hope to win this fight so long as I am here. And here I stand; here I'll stay."
Using all of his might, enhanced by the Shaman Stone, Uunvraxis casts Nightfall Spear, the Void-based, Soul-infused projectile hurling itself at the Steelwyrm.
(2(5 + 10 + 12 + 17) = 88 damage received (OOC: OH MY FUCKING GOD THAT IS NOT ENOUGH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)
... And then, with a flash of Soul along his shell, Uunvraxis heals his own wounds.
[Steelwyrm rolled 5d20 to defend; total 63; total defence 143]
[Steelwyrm health 762]
*the pimpillos blind the Steelwyrm for a moment, enough time for Herrah to make a dent in him, enough time for the Nightfall Spear to hit, but he recovers, growling but not at the party, at the other Wyrm*
How pathetic is one to accept heals from the enemy?! Strelitzia; I once considered you my better but no longer! Act your part!
[Steelwyrm rolled 5d20 to attack the Pale King! total damage; 45]
[Pale King health 102/1000]
*the Steelwyrm drags his 'mate' away from the troublesome moth before striking him hard across the face, knocking him to the ground in a heap of limbs and silks. for a moment, he simply lays there before slowly pulling himself up. the look given to the Steelwyrm is proof enough there is still some of him left in there, buried under the murk. in his rage, the steelwyrm forgets who he is fighting and neglects to attack!*
[Lurien rolls 5d20 to defend; 20 + 19 + 17 + 16 + 10; total 82]
[Lurien health 251/300]
*he's able to dodge the Steelwyrm by flapping his wings and dancing out of the way, no problem, he's smaller and faster and smarter than he is, even the soul lightning isn't a bother as he takes the chance to dive out of the way, but, that's when things start to go wrong
Strelitzia moves. and he moves quick. quicker than Lurien does, he knows that for certain, they have fought before. he won by dumb luck but here, when its real, when its so very real, its all he can do to block as many swipes, his shell crackling under the heat of the soul flame wreathed blade*
Love. Love its me, I'm here, I came for you I'm here I'm here. Please please hear me. Look! Look even Herrah came to save your rear! Even Hornet came all the way from Pharloom! You don't want to let her down, do you? Come on, you... you know me... You know me...
*his words don't seem to make a difference... for now*
Dryya had been smacked and struck by lightning, the aftermath of which still tingled in her system. But she smiles at the wound over her side. The blade had cut through the armor and dealt damage. Nut well, that'd be something for Thistle to look at.
(264/300)
Dryya stands up and rushes at the Steelwyrm again, clambering up on his back and attempting to saw through his armor to slice his throat.
*This time, upon registering the events, the larger vessel (with the small one holding on for dear life-) just looses a vast majority of whatever composure they had, giving a wordless, flat-out angry scream and lunging for the Steelwyrm themselves, arms ablaze as they swipe at him with both sets of blazing claws, as the general vicinity has suddenly begun to heat in spite of the prior cold.*
*(Why is there smoke coming from them? That is unusual...)*
*fragile it looks. small. shaking. in pain. the Steelwyrm finds himself feeling a sliver of regret. finds himself feeling a fragment of pity for it, a slice of empathy as the Whitewyrm almost sways on its feet, eyes unfocused behind the clouds of dancing veils draped over its dimutive form. not long now though. no, not long. not long until he has claimed his deserved reward. not long until he can finally own his mate of old. Delphinium, that root, that stupid moth... all of them have lost and he? oh how he has won! how he has claimed victory! how he has—*
We did not think one would show ones face here. After all, is it not painful to see one's mate take the hand of another?
*the Steelwyrm steps forth, looking down from the grand stage at the gathering of pathetic little morsels headed by the moth who, by all accounts, should be rotting on the ground somewhere. persistent little mite, isn't he? and his friends too. a rough shove has the Whitewyrm positioned behind him, out of sight out of mind, but that damned dream drenched mortal simply stares him down, practically vibrating with rage so hot it could melt the very metal his city is built from. well, this'll be a bit of entertainment for the crowd...*
So... that's how it is. Very well. Fight well, Our friends! May glory guide your souls unto oblivion! To the visitors, I offer the first blow!
[Steelwyrm health 1000/1000]
[Pale King health 100/1000]
*the crowd erupts into cheers louder than ever, echoing through the eletric air, breaking the tense silence with revelry untold. this is it, the grand finale!*
*there he is. there! right there! dressed in a gown so artificial, so stifling, so unlike him that for a moment Lurien barely even knows its his Strelitzia, His Beloved. he looks... thin, broken, he doesn't even respond when shoved, he doesn't even look towards him. void below what has this shitworm done?!*
[Lurien health 300/300]
[Lurien rolled 5d20 to attack! 20 + 20 + 12 + 14 + 13; total 79 damage!]
*he leaps into the air, his wings spread in a flash of vivid blue but his pin strikes in an arc of gold; glimmering and perfect and almost sickly. almost like a memory of the infection that destroyed Hallownest. he jabs and slashes at the Steelwyrm in a frenzied furious flurry, the blaze of dreams at his command fueling him even further*
Dryya remembers the advice Pieris had given the group. The bastard could burn, huh? See if that'd do him good. Dryya summons in her hand the only spell she knew besides Focus.
Soulfire, a white burning plasma of Soul harvested from the Blackguard. She winds up and tosses it straight at the Steelwyrm.
Holy fucking shit, and here i thought that i was surrouned by the biggest bitches and morons in the world, but now that i have meet you, i can see i was wrong on both of those.
Did you really think that you could take our bitch from us, then you must have severe brain damage.
I'll ignore how comically evil you are, which by the way you must be compensating it for something.
I'll say this too, a face that not even your mother would love, and dressed like that, you must think that you are the most beautiful thing around, but i have seen roadkill from a stag prettier than your face alone.
Fucker is so ugly you should be put in a show about animals, just need some old geezer doing a voice over.
I can't even remember what your kid said, but i can see that your ugly ass got the least protective shell i have ever seen, and already know what i should do.
Xero arm changes and he starts shooting fireballs at the ugly freak.
I was going to say this is going to make you prettier, but not even you being born a different person would make you that.
[Steelwyrm rolled 10d20 to defend; 143 total; total defence 243]
[Steewyrm rolled 5d20 to heal; 52 total]
[Steelwyrm health 909]
*he simply dodges and walks around most attacks, the pathetic insults rolling from him and the flames of soul and Xero's fireballs licking at him but he hardly seems to give a care, almost laughing as he rips soul from the Whitewyrm cowering behind him, the poor thing screaming in pain as he does so*
[Pale King health 95/1000]
You are good, but, not that good We are afraid.
[Steelwyrm rolled 10d20 to attack; 80 total]
*a slave bows before him and with a swift motion, a single touch, their body is torn asunder, their shell reforming, their limbs snapinng, as they become a blade for their master. with a sick twisted laugh the Steelwyrm dances through his enemies, slashing and stabbing. Lurien, Dryya, Baldwin and Xero take 20 damage each!*
*Glacier is shaking with rage, staring at the Steelwyrm. How dare he first take Pane, weak and suffering, to get close to their dad, and how DARE he hurt their dad, break and harm him, thinking he's on top of the world?*
*The temperature around them drops slightly, the tip of their pin becoming coated in ice. Their throat feels closed up, but they don't mind. They don't need breath after all*
*The Steelwyrm's weak to fire, they know this. They should be at a disadvantage, since ice is their weapon as well as their pin. But they can help their allies by cooling the Steelwyrm down, no?*
I swear... with every fiber of my being... you will pay for everything you did... for Dad... for Pane... I will make sure you die!
*They stab the ground, causing giant icicles to erupt from the ground in the Steelwyrm's direction*
[20 + 20 + 13 + 19 + 13 = 85 damage! (since it's a big attack I'm using all the dice for it)]
*Initially, the ironically familiar larger vessel's eyes widen, shock and annoyence fighting for dominance all the while, before they force neutrality and coldly (ha the irony) state,*
Well. Short time no see, steel problem.
*Before both their 'hands' clench and gain flame and, with both, they two massive fireballs are sent directly at the shit- Steelwyrm.*
*Though, once thrown, the tension in their partner is quite obvious, as they just nudge their sibling, who glances down and immediatly murmurs a "oops" while slightly retracting their claws.*
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*the distant revelry of the crowd drifts through the empty city, the sound of countless voices all crying out in a joy barely felt between these metal walls and scraping spires that scream up at the sky. Pieris stands directly in the street, her staff in hand, held before her like a life line, like she needs it to keep herself up. and she waits.
this fleeting crumbling world, this monument to cruelty and pain... how had she ever called it her home? the nobles laugh at misfortune, prey upon the weak, live upon the bones and broken bodies of the less fortunate who live upon the toil and agony of slaves and stolen. and at the heart of it, at the centre of that writhing rot her father rules supreme.
cruel and cold like the howling winds that surround, a wicked thing, a wretched thing. a thing that believes itself the apex of all creation. a thing that believes itself owed everything it wishes for. she had bowed before it. swore fealty to it. had been sired by it unwillingly.
her fingers tighten. her breath is harsh in her throat. and many footsteps approach...*
So you have come; I knew you would...
I should warn you poor lost things, I will not fall as easily as that automata of metal.
*its... her? Lurien, leading the charge, skids to a stop but despite Pieris' desire to do battle his hand does not drop to his pin. she knows, as he knows, as he can see and tell, that she does not have the strength to truly attack him, she does not have the willpower to fight. especially when he sees her take a tiny almost unnoticeable step back. she fears, as she should, she remembers their last fight, as if he could forget it. he stares her down, all three eyes glaring hard*
You fell pretty easily last time if I recall, or at least you surrendered without complaint. Do you really want to fight? Now I've come with allies? If I was enough to defeat you what hope to do stand now?
Look; last I recall the Steelwyrm had tossed you like garbage, why not help us instead?
*Pieris seems to consider that, her head tilted in a very familiar way, tail swaying behind her, wings opening and closing as she mulls the thought over. yes, father had discarded her and her sisters, yes he is a master most unkind, but he is still her father, he is still deserving of her best... is he not?
but then again, her sibling, the one that saved her, saved Emilia, saved Baptisia, they plan to fell the gods it seems, or remove their power, or destroy their rulership. wouldn't offering what help she can, wouldn't aiding these fools in killing her sire help in that matter? ...it seems her choice is made. her stance relaxes*
I will neither fight you nor fight with you. But I can offer what information I hold. Ask your questions; lingering here ere long will only make me doubt myself further.
Dryya crosses her arms, pondering what to do next. There was so much to say, but the cheering civilians practically shook the city.
"Hell, what I need to know is how I kill him." she was blunt, direct, but nervous under all her armor. She had more to lose than just her life. Not that that would be a problem, she recognized the vessel standing by the Daughter of Steel, the same one who brought her to life. It glanced at her and nodded in greeting.
A fair question and one even I, his daughter, do not know for certain. His face bears scars, this I can say, so he is not entirely without weakness or beyond the ability to be harmed. Burns, I would guess, an ugly heinous mess. But such injuries were caused by another Higher Being, and you seem to lack one of those unless you can convince the Whitewyrm to fight along side you.
Blades and spells, claws and teeth. And luck. A bounty of luck.
I value my life. And what gave you that impression? This city, its slaves, the power he commands, the countless brides he's taken and killed in a fit of passion? Truly a statement for the ages.
No, I have already said I will not help you further than this, and, these questions and answers that follow will aide in his ending, if such a thing can truly end.
If it is alive, if it bears any glimmer of light within it then, yes, the void itself surges up to devour. A ripe meal he would be for your powers; afeared of them too in truth. He would think twice about attacking should you show such might.
Dew’s hands still tremble, but this time he steels his resolve. He’s not running this time.
Wait.
Hmm?
Let me talk to her. Perhaps another god talking to her will help.
But what about your cover?
It already knows we are here. There is no longer any point in staying hidden.
Dew closes his eyes.
“…Chalybs.”
A small whisper. But even that was enough. When next Dew opens his eyes, the one on his left was a bright gold. When his voice speaks, another seems to boom lightly in a whisper.
“Listen. Pieres, is it? We understand your fear. The Steelwyrm is an incredibly strong being feared even among the Gods of Steel. In a fair fight, it would most likely kill some of us.”
Their eyes narrow.
“But even it is not indestructible. As you said yourself, its face is scarred. That means it bleeds. And if something can bleed, then it can die. And especially with these fine and skilled warriors, one of whom has felled a god herself, I am sure that even it shall die.”
Dew blinks, and both his eyes and voice return to normal. He stumbles a bit, before regaining his balance.
*for a moment, Pieris startled. her name spoken despite introduction; the bug before her is more than meets the eye it seems…*
Bleed the Steelwyrm can, be cut and be burned and be broken, true. But in this fight it is not just the Wyrm you would fight; tis the very city neath our feet. He is intertwined with it in ways which disgusts and reviles; he is the city and the city is he.
But you speak of a god slayer? I would assume that is you?
"I am, indeed, the God Slayer, but it is really the Void that killed her, for that was the plan. This furthermore suggests that the Shaman's Void control is our best weapon against this Wyrm."
Ha! It is but one tool you have, a good one, but it will take more than that. Will his void be able to consume all, this city, its sins? I doubt it. You will need more than just that no matter how under control it is thought to be. My father may fear that darkness, he may keep his distance, but fear does not work forever... if it did you would not have a traitor in your midst, would you?
I would say traitor is a rather strong word, I am simply supporting whomsoever is effective.
I may technically be bound to the Steelwyrm and his kin due to the fact that I can't shed the title of Blackguard, but I sure can assist one of his daughters in killing him.
Who said I was drawing blade? This is the third time I have declined to face my father and I will not repeat myself again; should any of you ask I shall turn on my heel and reject further questioning.
The air displacement shifts, then fully collapses on itself for The Biting Wind to fully appear. Despite the distinction of an echoing voice - about as steady as someone who would really like to bite something right now -, the only physical movement regarding their jaws is their teeth baring into a snarl.
As far as I have ever been aware, your… leader, parent… some form of that role, has caused enough threat to everyone else here. I am doing this for the safety of my kindred. I do not know about how much they- Their snout swings across the main portion of the main group- care about survivability, but I can assume it's a great deal. I am doing this for a similar reason, if not my own then the rest of my home group.
I will not force you to fight alongside us - I do not know you, and more importantly what your limits are. I will, however, ask of any important information be sent our way.
And then, they fall nearly completely silent again, watching very patiently. Strained patience, but patience nonetheless.
Threat he may be but father just as much; no matter the pain called there is still affection held. As I have said, upon matters of importance, he is connected to this city in ways mortals, gods and other beings may not truly understand; he is both it's beating heart and its lord. It is both his body and his fortress. He commands the very walls, the buildings, the weapons, the bugs, the blades; he commands all. And he will use it. Some may think him a coward, imagining that he sits upon his throne and does war from up on high, but trust me when I say he leads his armies in person and he is far from easy to take advantage of.
He's clever, quick, underhanded, and will be angry. You need to bring your best.
*Barely before his time to exit backstage, yet again, the sentinel re-appears, this time dragging a duo of chained... creatures(? they both almost smell like Strelitzia-) with them while declaring,*
Sir! I hate to interrupt, but I found these two slinking around within the Underworks!
*more of the Whitewyrm's void spawn? how many young does that thing have? the Steelwyrm motions for the Sentinel to follow him and bring the captured prisoners to the side away from the empty eyes of their parent. or at least he assumes all that, these ones absolutely do look like its children*
Good work, Sentinel, far better work than others of ones kind it would seem, one may be permitted a moment of indulgence on this most joyous day instead of being sent down the surface to war with ones siblings.
Now, little void spawn, We are most aware of ones allies within Our city and what they would want to do. Does one believe that ones so small can truly offer salvation?
... I do not. They lie- hiss, adding, However, the former observer does.
Wh- hold up! Grumbles the smaller of the two, trying to move around the larger (though they cannot as they are harnessed + leashed to said larger 's tail). I thought you mentioned something about the fatso-!
*This ask has the possibility of being a jumpscare. Write whatever you want in character. You're in the City.*
Urgh... not even a cycle and we're already lost...
They just growl to themselves, their shoulder partner unhelpfully declaring,
I thought I mentioned sticking with the group!
Yes, well-! Egh, no matter!
Before either can say much else, the taller of the two just finds a darkness-less spot and sits frustratedly, their companion leaping off of their shoulders in order to avoid getting pinned between them and the wall as they just grumble,
So, what now?
We rest, that's what. I'm at least half exhausted just from walking.
Hmph! Fine.
They retort while sitting heavily themselves, only to be surprised as their sibling picks them up and places them in their lap while murmuring,
Just, stay here for now, alright?
... fine. They huff grumpily, but give their sibling the satisfaction of seeing them decide to relax in their lap.
*Lurien looks up, into the rolling smoke, into the clouds, up at the twisting incomprehensible shapes of the City before him, his feet sunk into the soft ground, his own blood still staining it. his hand strays to his chest where he swears he can still feel the blade of the Steelwyrm pierce his shell. he had been afraid then, he is afraid now, of the same thing yes, but there is one key difference. last time he had something to defend. last time he was alone. last time he had not accepted the truth of his situation
now... he has nothing he needs to protect, no frail failing body to put behind his back. he has allies. he has accepted his fate and the fate of all things and... he isn't afraid of the Steelwyrm. or his armies. or his city. or anything else. there is no way he can lose. no way he can't win. he turns slightly, looking over his allies gathered in the scarce comfort of their camp... there is no going back...
he strolls up to the edge of the overhang, his cloak fluttering behind him in the too warm breeze blowing by, his voice sails upon it, loud. clear. commanding*
Allies of Hallownest! The time is upon us! The towering structure of metal and suffering before you is none other than the fabled City of Steel; a cruel invention of the Steelwyrm, the very city we intend to see felled! Our mission, simple as it may seem, will be dangerous! Those of you who will not be drawing blade, drawing nail or pin or claw or weapon of any kind, you've the task of taking out any external weapons the city has that you can see from a distance or, if the task suits, some may join us within to disable traps and weapons within!
We must be quick, we must be brutal, but we must also show mercy to the slave bugs I have been warned of withing for they have committed no crime, in fact, I do plan to liberate those slaves if we are able! stars above know that Hallownest needs more bugs
We will fight! And we will win! ...Let's move...
*Lurien has only just barely finished his speech when series of loud booming... shots? gun shots? fire off close by and he has but a moment to dodge out of the way to avoid being hit*
[Lurien rolls 3d20 to defend: 14, 17, 19 = 50!]
[Lurien health 300/300]
*from the dust and steam rising from the landscape a large shape emerges. its body is long, smooth and slivery, equipped with a long segmented tail not unlike a scorpion and two large pincers. it moves with clanking grinding metal limbs and absolutely is not a real living bug. the City of Steel is well defended, and its gate guard has deemed it suitable to welcome its visitors...*
"Oh well. That's interesting." Dryya says and draws her weapon, furiously jumping from the cliff, sliding down the slope and attacking the mechanical beast with all the fury she could harness.
Xero starts to run, and starts going faster, and faster, until he jumps, and starts flying, coming full speed with two nails and slashes with both of them
*the Steel Automata reels from the blows, a mechanical whine screaming out over the dusty plains, loud enough for the ground to shake. it moves, quicker than its bulk might suggest, large pincers snapping out three times at random members of the party*
[The Steel Automata attacks Dryya, Glacier and Fyre!]
The Hunter had been selected as the one to front during the fight. She had brought her Silkshot, her Tacks, her Poison Pouch, and a few other tools. She was ready.
She drew her Silkshot from her cloak and fired upon the automaton, peppering it with shots.
Within moments, they juat allow their entire arm to gain flame, swatting the mechanism away before said fire (hah) comes right off of their arm and hits it.
*the automata curls into a ball, it's tail whipping around to deflect some of the shots*
[The Steel Automata rolls 17 to defend!]
[Steel Automata health 490/600]
*the automata screams, raising itself up, countless legs unfurling like a great flower of metal, each one buzzing with electricity before it slams into the ground twice, a shockwave of sparks and dust spilling out towards the full party*
[The Steel Automata rolls 11 + 2 to attack the whole party! total damage 13!]
This isn't right, this City is much smaller than it should be. And something feels off about all of this, where are the guards? What happened to the shifts? Did the City really change that much while he was gone?
Was he the reason everything changed?
DEW, MOVE.
Dew notices the shockwave too late and is knocked back by it.
[Dew rolled 2 to defend]
[Dew: 289/300]
Dew, now is not the time to break down. Focus on the battle.
Dew growls, quickly getting back up, raising his cannon, and firing it at the Automata twice.
*the automata weaves this way and that, body a fluid motion despite its size and bulk before it stops, head turning this way and that with mechanical clicks and clacks, its large glass eyes blinking out of sequence*
ASSESSING... THREAT...
SEEKING... PERMISSION... FOR LASER...
PERMISSION DENIED...
EXCECUTING FUNCTION...
*seemingly denied the action it wishes to take the automata charges at the nearest grouping of party members... that being Baldwin, Uunvraxis and Pablo!*
[The Steel Automata rolls 2d20 to attack 16 + 20, total 36]
You would think that the guy who can literally teleport and has an armored shell on his head, not to mention is covered in Void armor gotten from the Void itself, would be excellent at avoiding or withstanding attacks...
ooc: i am confused but i will treat this like a block, you'll take 11 damage total
[The Steel Automata rolls 20 to defend!]
[Steel Automata health 431/600]
*rearing up an almost shimmering shield of energy seems to surround the automata before dissipating, blocking some of the incoming damage but tanking the rest, even as it hisses in a manner that could almost be called... angry... vents on its sides click open one by one and with a great howl of steam, it targets Uunvraxis and Lurien with a blazing gout of burning gas*
*he's able to take flight as the wave of sparks and dust rolls towards him but in his foolishness he neglects to look out for the blast of steam, taking a face full of scalding heat*
[Lurien rolls 2d20 to attack; 20 + 20, total 40 damage]
*despite the heat he is able to twirl his pin around, digging it into the joints between the metal monster's legs, feeling something crack, and for extra measure he seems to almost glow a brilliant golden orange before releasing a brilliant laser beam of pure sunlight with a pained roar. nothing, not this, not the fucking Shitworm, nobody is standing in his way!!*
(ROLLING! 2d20, 15 defense roll - shockwave dodged, 6 attack roll!)
The scent of blood alone was enough to hone on the hunt. And oh boy. Oh BOY.
There is nothing but the feral clawing of metal and a screaming, violent howl that sounds more wind than what it properly is. Luckily, the lack of visual does not last long, as the dust settles.
There is a blur of fur, claws, and teeth, as they charge directly to face the automaton, and the teeth are specifically aimed at legs and claws - they're looking to minimize the threat's movement.
Like they were truly hunting.
*the automata reels backwards, joints screaming, the stench of melting metal dripping from its ruined legs where Lurien had struck. it stomps around, mimicking panic, tail lashing to and fro*
REQUESTING... USE OF... EXCESSIVE FORCE...
...REQUEST PERMITTED...
EXCECUTING FUNCTION...
*as if possessed, the automata lifts itself upwards, the front of its body opening up to reveal a huge cannon, screeching with energy as its whole form shudders*
[The Steel Automata does not attack this round as it is building energy]
Dryya had dodged and parried all attacks up to that point, except some of the dirt. It irritated her lungs and made her eyes water. [Don't remember what I rolled on the dice but it combined to 25.]
As she forced them open, she stares right into the barrel of a giant gun. She squeals and tries to get out of the way, cutting into a leg as she did.
Hornet fired off another shot with her Silkshot (20 damage), before approaching Uunvraxis and Baldwin. Silk flared from her as she healed Uunvraxis (Heals 5) and Baldwin (10).
After a moment and some decision making, Fyre just decides to deal with the damage they took earlier, each claw seeming hotter than branding irons for a moment before they fling more flames at the automata.
*Lurien looks up, into the rolling smoke, into the clouds, up at the twisting incomprehensible shapes of the City before him, his feet sunk into the soft ground, his own blood still staining it. his hand strays to his chest where he swears he can still feel the blade of the Steelwyrm pierce his shell. he had been afraid then, he is afraid now, of the same thing yes, but there is one key difference. last time he had something to defend. last time he was alone. last time he had not accepted the truth of his situation
now... he has nothing he needs to protect, no frail failing body to put behind his back. he has allies. he has accepted his fate and the fate of all things and... he isn't afraid of the Steelwyrm. or his armies. or his city. or anything else. there is no way he can lose. no way he can't win. he turns slightly, looking over his allies gathered in the scarce comfort of their camp... there is no going back...
he strolls up to the edge of the overhang, his cloak fluttering behind him in the too warm breeze blowing by, his voice sails upon it, loud. clear. commanding*
Allies of Hallownest! The time is upon us! The towering structure of metal and suffering before you is none other than the fabled City of Steel; a cruel invention of the Steelwyrm, the very city we intend to see felled! Our mission, simple as it may seem, will be dangerous! Those of you who will not be drawing blade, drawing nail or pin or claw or weapon of any kind, you've the task of taking out any external weapons the city has that you can see from a distance or, if the task suits, some may join us within to disable traps and weapons within!
We must be quick, we must be brutal, but we must also show mercy to the slave bugs I have been warned of withing for they have committed no crime, in fact, I do plan to liberate those slaves if we are able! stars above know that Hallownest needs more bugs
We will fight! And we will win! ...Let's move...
*Lurien has only just barely finished his speech when series of loud booming... shots? gun shots? fire off close by and he has but a moment to dodge out of the way to avoid being hit*
[Lurien rolls 3d20 to defend: 14, 17, 19 = 50!]
[Lurien health 300/300]
*from the dust and steam rising from the landscape a large shape emerges. its body is long, smooth and slivery, equipped with a long segmented tail not unlike a scorpion and two large pincers. it moves with clanking grinding metal limbs and absolutely is not a real living bug. the City of Steel is well defended, and its gate guard has deemed it suitable to welcome its visitors...*
"Oh well. That's interesting." Dryya says and draws her weapon, furiously jumping from the cliff, sliding down the slope and attacking the mechanical beast with all the fury she could harness.
Xero starts to run, and starts going faster, and faster, until he jumps, and starts flying, coming full speed with two nails and slashes with both of them
*the Steel Automata reels from the blows, a mechanical whine screaming out over the dusty plains, loud enough for the ground to shake. it moves, quicker than its bulk might suggest, large pincers snapping out three times at random members of the party*
[The Steel Automata attacks Dryya, Glacier and Fyre!]
The Hunter had been selected as the one to front during the fight. She had brought her Silkshot, her Tacks, her Poison Pouch, and a few other tools. She was ready.
She drew her Silkshot from her cloak and fired upon the automaton, peppering it with shots.
Within moments, they juat allow their entire arm to gain flame, swatting the mechanism away before said fire (hah) comes right off of their arm and hits it.
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*the climb is slow, at least for Lurien. the closer and closer he draws to that small cave exit where the winds and dust blow in from the barren wastes above the more anxious he becomes, stomach twisting in knots. he pauses, wings flapping behind him as he supports himself, as he hovers there like a leaf caught in a wayward breeze. the City is just above, waiting on those endless gray plains, along with his captured love. he glances behind him at his companions, happy to see they've managed to scale the cliffs
with a shaking breath, he flutters forwards, landing on the stone, pushing aside old crispy roots and pushing himself out into the wider world
the sky is dark, choked in endless plumes of smoke, the great heaving steaming body of the City of Steel looms like the shining edge of a guillotine. he tries to bear it no mind as he skurries in its shadow, motioning for his companions to follow close behind all the way to that rocky overhang where he had last been with his beloved, where he had fought those daughters of steel
*fairly soon, a duo of vessels appear on the spot in a burst of flame that vanishes as quick as it appeared, the familiar, taller one bearing a channeled nail this time while the smaller clings tightly to their leg as though it were a lifeline whilst using it as a sort of crutch (as they seem to lack a left leg)*
You requested an audience? Or, as I personally would put it; what's up?
*declares the vessel- Fyre from a darkened corner*
@eternal-voidbound-fire
*Lurien is stood at the chalkboard. a circle with a big ? in it is labelled as the City of Steel while the surrounding area seems to be mapped in a bit more detail. cliffs, valleys, plains, and another much smaller circle indicating the cave which he and the Pale King used to reach the Surface. he turns when he hears the voice*
Ah good. I have begun to finalise plans on how we're actually going to pull this off. I do have someone who has been inside before so I'm waiting on them to see what they know about the internals. What I currently know is that the whole place is elevated so we'll need a way in, and that it seems completely made of metal and glass.
Hm... has there been consideration of teleporting into it? I can do so, after all.
*they suggest casually, then add*
Although, we could see if there is a way to un-elevate it. Last I checked, metal parts and blunt force usually act like a chain reaction; collapse occurs.
Not all of us can teleport, and, I am unsure if the City has protections against such things... collapsing the City is an idea but then, I worry for the innocent bugs inside. For the slaves and the poor, and most importantly, for the King.
However, if the City does not have defences against teleportation then we may be in luck; you and any others in our group who have such power could enter and find a way to get us up. If I recall, and bear in mind I only saw it for a few moments, the underside of the City was wreaked by the Pale King when he fought back, but some of it may have survived?
There has to be a way the citizens got in and out.
Recently I have seen none of your siblings in person, have only exchanged words written I am afraid. So no, no I have not seen this lost Vessel. I am sorry.
That means the bread roll (as I like to call the Loungester) has been missing for quite a while... according to Tyke, they hadn't been seen-... ironically since a few time cycles after the steel fortress arrived. Hm...
*they hum upon musing over their own words, pondering before adding,*
Wait, you mentioned over text? Did one happen to mention food in their "typing"?
Hm... I can think of one way to find a route, but it's tricky.
*they reply, sounding like he's forcibly swallowing their disappointment as he continues*
We could attempt at recreating a dreamgate, but... I am not entirely sure how functional it'd be... unless you could force another bug into the realm of dreams..?
*they add in suggestion, tilting his head questioningly all the while*
We could. It would behoove us to have practive before hand. As a moth, and with my unique circumstances, I hardly think it'll be much of a challenge although one would usually need a dream nail for such a spell, which I do not have. But... well... I have not needed one before to do all the things I have done.
*the things... he has done. like blinding the Queen, like almost killing His Beloved twice over, like being unable to truly properly control it, like burning up from the inside out. strange. if he were to blaze and hurt like before then now, now of all times, shouldn't he? he shakes those thoughts away*
Right. So. All I'll attempt to do is set one here and send you a floor down maybe? Now, bear in mind I have never done this before, or even thought about it so I may get it a little wrong, my apologies if so. It may come to pass that we don't even need this but it could come in useful for an escape out of there rather than getting in.
*Lurien stands and tries to focus. all the times he's used this magic, this power, things have just happened without him actually trying to make them happen. but, a couple times, during his fight with those steel warriors, he was able to control it. he was able to use what he'd been given. he presses his hand to the ground with a dramatic flourish, his fingers digging into the tiles and leaving behind a gleaming golden dream-catcher*
*about ¾ of an hour (aka 45 minutes) later, they stir, shifting with a mild huff of half-disapproval, half-triumph, as they mutter somewhat disoriented-ly,*
I found it. It is nearly directly beneath the city.
*Lurien is on his second drink by the time they awake, this one fresher than the last. he tilts his head in confusion*
What is directly beneath the city? I was simply trying to send you one floor down through the Spire to test if this even works. I've not a clue what you've been doing but it is clear to me something I did did not go as I intended.
I see. Well, at least we know that but not if the dreamgate actually works the way I wanted it to. I meant to test if it could teleport you to the floor below this one but it seems I need more practice in that. A bother.
