#ranek

Reality Rating: 1 (Jaspar can and does occasionally summon echoes as mounts, but wouldn't be interested in a race, nor would these echoes be very suited to one)

Jaspar can bring forth echoes of animals from parts of them, and he's been known to use antlers in the past. While those echoes are temporary until the life left in them is consumed by the magic, they can be pretty versatile, and it's not difficult to imagine Jaspar switching to a few different echoes along the length of the race. That is, if he cared any about all that. Or if they were fast enough to compete, they're mostly as fast as the animals they're summoned from the echoes of. Though they are tireless as long as they last.

Ranek

Reality Rating: 2 (I'm sure Ranek has built an extension to the Stormplate for speed at some point over the last couple centuries. And if he's not, he might if he heard of the race, could get there and thought it a fitting test. He did not actually participate in the race.)

Ranek already has his Stormplate, which is closer to a mech suit than a typical suit of armor. Given his tendency to create magical wonders, the Stormframe Sprinter is an extension to it built for speed and maneuverability. Likely able to shift the bipedal gait to a more effective quadrupedal one for bursts of acceleration. It would be a fearsome contestant in any race it entered, leaping to speeds on par with wheeled vehicles on the road but able of much more agility in rough terrain.

Ranek, who is fond of occasions to prove himself, might even have joined the Grand Prix... But he's currently desparked, mostly retired, and living back home on Kaldheim. He might not have heard of the race, or not in time, or maybe he simply didn't have a ready Omenpath to join it, or lacked a team... Whatever the reasons, he didn't show up for the event.

Jibea

Reality Rating: 0 (Any tech Jibea might have to help their gravity magic would be wearable, not a vehicle, this tech doesn't exist on their home plane anyway, and they'd be unlikely to want to participate in the Grand Prix, even if they might watch it)

A Gravity Slider is designed to help you maneuver while in freefall, and survive any collision or landing. Maximize and minimize terminal velocity both depending on what you want at any given moment. The idea is to redirect gravity into whatever direction you want to go and simply fall towards your objective. Different parts are also designed to minimize or maximize contact friction with any object that passes by (typically the ground). Using the mass of a plane and gravity as its propellant, no fuel is required besides the magic that shifts those forces, that usually comes from the pilot. Something Jibea would very much be able to do, along with using their magic to mess with nearby contestants (or their weaponry) that are NOT made to handle shifting gravity fields.

With that said, as was mentioned in the Reality Rating, this kind of tech doesn't exist on Jibea's home plane, and they certainly didn't have it custom made elsewhere either. They're not really a racer, and there isn't much of a point to participate in those races for them, so it remains very much in AU territory. They do value the display of it and of all these different techniques and technologies and have followed the Grand Prix when possible. They were keeping an eye on the Endriders in particular, sharing some of their plights.

Madaya

Reality Rating: 1 (The Mirage Machine may have existed, though it wasn't a racing Vehicle, and would have likely been sold off at some point. And Madaya isn't a racer)

Back in the days where she was a magician (as in, a stage magician), Madaya may have bought or commissioned the mirage machine from one of the many ambitious inventors on Avishkar. Both something to store her equipment and something capable of projecting room-spanning illusions for her to integrate into some of her more involved spectacles. Sadly, times became rough, she might have had to live off of her mirage machine for a bit, then when the situation became untenable, she likely had to sell it off years ago, before she hit rock bottom and sparked.

The attendant at Sinfall was apparently well-informed, or at least, not so poorly informed that they got things backward. It didn’t take the Cay and Ranek very long at all to start seeing signs of the recent fighting on the ground once they got far enough from Sinfall proper: trees with the tops sheared off, scattered burnt or burning bodies in wildly varying conditions; if either of them had been familiar enough with the Ember Ward to notice it, they'd have recognized several of the ruins had been ruined even further, smashed into and through. The airborne phoenix easily made out an alarming number of what looked like laser burns in the cracked dirt and in the various piles of rubble they passed over, and Ranek passed through.

Ranek, in particular, noticed there was precious little movement to be spotted on the way to the Scorched Crypt, and absolutely none once he was within sight of the wall of the first terrace. Even in the Ember Ward, there was the occasional scuttling of hardy insects or emaciated birds, but here? Nothing at all.

He kept his Worgen snout down, keeping track of scents to filter and catalogue, though there were precious few to be found in the dirt. As they got closer and closer, the red flags came in waves; no signs of life, no sounds even by the standards of a crypt. At least this was a good sign for hunting a powerful predator.

Cay couldn’t help but be impressed by the damage from their bird’s-eye view. They didn’t know you could make the Ember Ward any worse, but the rampaging beast had done it.

Their feathers itched, and the closer they got to the crypt, the less it felt like itching than a somewhat insistent pull. Magnets under the skin close to magnets outside, but the polarities didn't quite agree, but they still wanted to be near one another, and GOD, that's uncomfortable...

The crypt should have been crawling with condemned Venthyr and feral souls seeking shelter from the oppression of the Light. Where was everyone?

"Good news, Ranek! If- if Terry's feeling anything like- like what I'm currently experiencing, n-neither of us will need to get hurt. F-follow me, I- I know exactly how to find him."

Ranek didn’t look directly up at Cay as he advanced, the sheer destruction blowing his mind. This was something far more dangerous than he’d expected, even with the briefing they’d been given. He simply nodded, gesturing that he would follow.

The scene within the walls of the courtyard wasn't much more comforting. The silence for the pair was almost as brutal as the heat for the condemned, the lack of movement in the air leaving them with the discomforting feeling that time had stopped. Pits and gouges were everywhere, torn into the dead grass and cracked dirt, easy to trip over and occasionally as long as Ranek's shoulders were wide. Many of them had pale, yellowish puddles at the bottom of them, not unlike muddy water in carriage tracks. Except for the lack of horseshit (or anything else, really) in the smell of it, kinda made a Gilnean lad think of home.

Thinking about it... the lack of smell and the lack of movement was one thing, that was starting to become normal pretty fast. But now, there was a lack of bodies, too. Plenty of wreckage to be found, but no... well, pieces. Ranek found a scrap of tattered cloth hanging from a tree branch after a minute of dedicated searching, but nothing more substantial than that. He gently tugged the scrap down, inhaling the scent–finally, a SCENT, if only a little bit of one–to get a proper clue to begin searching for their target.

To Cay, up in the air? Something moved. Somewhere. They weren’t sure what or where but something definitely moved. Right? Maybe it was just Ranek. Except… Ranek was over there, and the movement had been over here, and– Something moved again. What. They let out an anxious keen and shifted their flight, spiraling upwards in hopes of getting a better view of the situation, looking for more movement or anything that wasn't Ranek. "I saw –something, be alert."

Ranek’s head snapped around as Cay spoke. He strained his ears to find some sort of sound to focus on.

As they both shifted their focus, they saw a shift in the ground, though it was hard to tell what it was. A small animal? An errant breeze? No bodies to spot, though, nothing small scurrying about, and certainly nothing big. Maybe something invisible? No, there were no footfalls, either; Ranek would have heard them, or at least seen the prints forming in the dirt.

What had at first seemed like spatters and puddles of dirty water revealed itself to be something else entirely, shifting and roiling in the various places where it lay until it trickled down walls, slid across the bumpy dirt, and slithered through dead grass. From above, Cay could clearly see that all the individual puddles of fluid were all moving toward a single point, steadily growing brighter and brighter as they converged on Ranek.

Ranek, of course, could see an awful lot of creepy brownish-gold shit snaking toward him at high speeds... just not all of it. His ears swiveled at the sounds of the moving liquid, too late to see them begin to pool in his general direction. He was looking for a more solid target, a humanoid shape instead of flowing liquid.

"Anar'alah, is he water?" Caythaes immediately shifted back to elf mode in a burst of flames, slowing their descent the magical way and throwing a bubble as soon as they were close enough to Ranek to do it. The bubble startled the Worgen, causing him to erupt in growling and fighting against it before seeing the puddles and scrambling backward instead. SPLAP! Several of the "puddles" chose that moment to lunge up toward Ranek only to hit the shield with a wet, sticky smack and cling on.

A few more reached their destination before he was done fighting against his shield, and Ranek could see them joining together as they met. Other puddles found him faster due to his frantic scrambling, approaching him from all directions, but they didn't seem to be quite able to accomplish much besides obscuring his view. Yet.

Cay, from the outside, could see the unsettling horror show unfolding, though thankfully, their bubble seemed to be holding. Slowfalling gave them a few seconds not only to stare at Ranek in utter dismay, but also to try and figure out their next move. Unfortunately, the instant their feet touched the ground, several blobs veered off. Beelining straight for them, they sprang up and off the ground once they got within arm's length, aiming for the face!

Caythaes threw up a bubble with a squeal of terror as the blobs launched. Well, when all you have is a fire… They did not want to blast things with fire so close to their face, but that was just what they were going to have to do. Squeezing their eyes shut, Caythaes turned their face away as they threw out their hand, sending a blast of fire exploding from their palm.

Ranek, at a loss for other options, rushed toward Cay to at least try and stand back to back with them. The large mass on Ranek's bubble eagerly clung along for the ride, stretching out with unsettling, stringy tendrils toward the one forming on Cay as Ranek brought them closer together. Right about that time... his bubble began to sizzle audibly, and cracks spiderwebbed across the magical barrier. He wasn’t sure what would happen once the shields fell off, but it probably wasn’t good.

Fire near the face was nobody's favorite, at least not when they're in their right mind, but no one can say it doesn't get results. The water, or liquid Light, or whatever the hell it was recoiled from the blasts, finally relenting with a gurgling squeal not unlike Cay's own voice a moment ago. Just. You know. Wetter.

Peeling itself from Cay's bubble, the mass hit the ground with another dull splat and began slithering away. Seeing the gooey sludge slither down their shield filled Cay with a primal sort of revulsion, and they cupped a hand over their mouth as they dry heaved. For all the horrible scenarios they came up with while getting ready for this fight, this was so much worse. What the fuck did they even do?

Well, stupid ideas worked the last time, so Caythaes swiped a hand through the air and pulled back, Yoinking Ranek the rest of the way to join them. They hoped that if they got all the blobs together, it'd form an easier target to fight.

Ranek’s arms flailed for purchase as he was Yoinked. "FUCKING FEL, CUT IT OUT!" This was vastly out of control, and he was at a loss for what to do, and he hated it. He growled, losing his footing and rolling to a stop. He jumped almost immediately back to his feet but stayed put once he saw the slime on the move.

"Sorry!" Caythaes squeaked, reaching out a hand to steady Ranek as he landed and cringing back as slime flew everywhere. Anar'alah Belore, they wished they hadn't had so many teacakes before this.

The squelching horror seemed to be mocking Ranek, throwing his words back at him in squishing, burbling pops and hisses for a moment as it impacted upon itself with Cay's help. Ever played with slime as a kid? Put two big hunks of it in your hands and clap, then peel them apart? It was like that, but with speech. And then it was just like that: the mass mashed into itself with an almost gleeful fervor, rolling and surging across the ground in a cacophony of wet, semi-organic noises.

Rolling, surging... and growing. That... that was a lot of goo. There was more coming down from the main crypt up the hill, too; it seemed like it just took a while for it to get down to this level. Thankfully, none of it was paying attention to Cay’s bubbles anymore, though Ranek had much too close a call. As the last dregs of his gooey assailant loosed from the magical barrier, it failed, fizzling out as the goo plopped onto his boot and burned a hole straight through it before letting go.

A string of curses came from the Gilnean, enough to peel paint off a whorehouse as his boot was partially melted, the protective cover gone from the top of his right foot, including fur and some flesh. It was a unique searing pain that made him bite down but not howl, only angering the Worgen.

"Th-that definitely worked, though. We- oh-" they look down at Ranek's boot, their ears drooping sadly. "I- I think we just have to, uh. M-make sure we don't touch any of that."

"No shit, but how will weapons work if it burns that hot.. or melts. Either way, I am going to have to be a lot more careful than you."

While they watched, trying to keep their stomachs from turning themselves inside out--would the result look like the mass in front of them?--and trying not to think about their partially melted tootsies, the slimy blob began to form itself into something more solid. Or at least more solid-looking; who knew? Eventually, limbs formed, and a humanoid torso at the joining of them, enormous and barrel-chested. A great, pointed head rose from the top, sharp, angled ears jutting out from it and brilliantly white fangs popping out of a muzzle as it was still taking shape.

As its feet and hands formed, it fell forward into a hunch, hands thudding audibly into the dirt and coming to an end in wicked, dull claws. Top-heavy and gorilla-like, save for that wolfish face, the beast began to dry out, then heat up, glowing like clay in a kiln until it's almost too bright to look at, white and tipped in orange.

A roar like a great flame erupting from a fissure in the earth, more sensation than sound, almost enough to blow out the eardrums, clipping in and out of audibility from the depth and volume alone, exploded from a now foaming maw as Terry finally reformed, fifteen feet tall and glowing like lava.

Anar'alah Belore. Cay's ears drooped even farther as the blob kept getting bigger, and then... turned into a Worgen so much bigger than they were expecting.

"H-hi Terry," they whimper, popping up another pair of protective barriers for themself and Ranek.

"THAT is Terry? Light above, that is a big Worgen." He planted his feet despite the pain and summoned a pair of blades made from pure shadow.

 "Y-you go left, I go right?"

Ranek nodded, darting left and moving to flank the beast. At least one of them would be able to strike.

It was hard to tell which way the beast looked unless he moved his head; the eyes were merely another point of light in a Worgen-shaped sun. Once the pair got far enough apart, though, it became clear that he was watching Caythaes, and Ranek could see him dig his claws into the dirt a second before he launched himself after The One In The Dress. He raised one enormous meathook of a hand high, clearly intent on either smashing the elf, or impaling them.

POONK! Terry's hand hit Cay's shield, shattering it on impact and sending them flying sideways with a sound like kicking one of those red rubber playground balls from elementary school. Cay's brain did that near-death-experience thing where they experienced slow motion and had time to realize Terry’s hand was big enough to wrap completely around their torso.

This is fine. Caythaes trusted their bubble to absorb the worst of the hit, and they skidded to a halt as they started singing to themself. Motes of darkness appeared around Terry's massive head, coalescing into an orb before exploding outwards. They hoped the shock from the spell would disorient Terry long enough for Caythaes to get off a more powerful one, or Ranek to distract him, or both. Anything besides being murdered was a good option, really.

Almost on cue, Ranek came in at a dead sprint, aiming a vicious slice at Terry’s hindmost leg and ripping a nasty gash across his calf. Terry was prevented from any meaningful follow-through by the explosion around his head, and that well-aimed slice ripped a furious howl from him as he spun to face the more direct threat. 

The Gilnean watched as both of their strikes worked, but the speed with which it swiped Cay and turned to face him made his mismatched eyes widen. 

Bringing both hands up above his head, Terry curled his fingers in as far as he was able, and brought them down like a haymaker from hell.

As those hands came up, Ranek swallowed hard. "Shiiiiiiiit." If he went back, he could get hit. Left or right, the beast could swipe him. So…the only logical choice was closer. He leaped forward to roll on the ground and make more slices at Terry's legs. Ranek's gamble paid off in a couple of ways: first, he didn’t get absolutely flattened into the dirt, though he did feel the impact and nearly stagger from it. Second, he could see the first wound he left on Terry's leg, an ugly, dark mark that slowly filled in with white-gold and eventually shifted back to the same color as the rest of his body. The final color seemed just a bit less white and a bit more orange now, overall.

Caythaes was grateful the only thing they had to worry about getting hit with was the ground for the moment. Too dazed for any real spellwork, they took a deep breath, letting out a dissonant scream, hoping to scare the beast away from Ranek and buy them both some time. It didn't quite frighten the monstrosity, but it did force him to bring his hands back up and cover those radar dish ears of his, stomping forward and away from Ranek, but in a vaguely Cay-ward direction. 

The shriek did affect Ranek as well; clamping his eyes shut and growling loudly at the noise, he just thanked his lucky stars he was out of harm's way for the moment.

That was… the exact opposite of what Cay’d been hoping for. Their ears tipped back as they pulled desperately at the ground, tendrils of red anima rising up and wrapping around them. Ranek, spotting Cay’s escape attempt, moved back to Terry's side, slashing away at arm, flank, and leg; if it was close enough, it got a knife in it. Anything to pull attention away from Cay for the few seconds they needed to sink into the ground.

Taking the doggo's toy away made him a very angry doggo, and he snarled furiously at the space where Cay was, only for that sound to twist up into another pained yowl. Ranek ripped right into his distracted ass one, two, three times before he swung his arm blind, clipping the smaller Worgen's right arm with all the force of a speeding tram.

The clip was more painful than a straight hit from a Tauren, Ranek’s right arm feeling like it was torn from its socket. He howled in pain and anger, focusing on his left-hand blade while the right slowly got feeling back. He swiped again and again, his attention primarily focused on Terry's clawed hands.

A pool of anima opened up directly behind Terry, and Caythaes rose out of it, throwing another blast of fire at the giant lava-gen's back. The fire seemed to push him down more from the force than any actual damage; Cay finally realized that heat wouldn’t do much good. Cay also finally spotted the effect of Ranek's wounding, the dark rips that filled with molten gold and faded slowly to match the rest of him. After that many rapid-fire blows, the overall color of his body was noticeably less bright.

Oh.

"Ranek! St-stop trying to protect me and- and just keep hitting him!" they shout, throwing a volley of three fireballs at Terry to draw attention back to themself. "I- I can't hurt him; only you can! You- you have to trust me and- and focus on- on getting as many hits in as you can!"

"What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?!" He had a small laugh to his voice, owed to the pain in his arm and his frantic darting in and out of Terry’s range.

After a little pause, Cay shifts their attention to shout, "Hey TERRY. SHEDWYN misses you and- and- andandand wants you to come home now!"

Shalassian coming out of a mouth lined by gleaming white stalactites in a snout that glowed like beaten steel was a trip, but he very clearly roared "MON CIEL" directly at Cay, spittle flying from his mouth. It was a bellow of possession, a roar of challenge, of affront; how dare they speak her name at him? And yet, he didn't get a chance to act on his mad outrage, occupied with batting away the flurry of slices at his big ol' mitts. He put up with this for a few seconds before snarling something undoubtedly much less poetic and reeling back for another haymaker on poor Ranek.

Caythaes sighed in exasperation, throwing a shield at Ranek before switching languages and shouting again. Their Shalassian was nowhere near as poetic as Terry's, but they were hoping the sound of it would be enough. "[Your sky is worried, Terry! She has searched the Shadowlands for you, and she will not rest. Come back to Shedwyn. You can finally stop fighting.]"

Ranek did not understand the words between Cay and Terry, but the momentary distraction allowed him to stab deep with his good arm, twisting the knife until he looked up to see the haymaker coming. He already had a wounded arm, so he turned to take the hit on his right side. He could hear something pop, most likely his shoulder or a rib. The blow lifted him up and off his feet to land in a slow roll. The shield Cay had given him had, at least, prevented his death.

Ranek now sufficiently dealt with for the moment, Terry turned his attention fully on the impudent little shit that kept speaking of his mate.

Then he bent down, picked up the crumpled Worgen's body, and hurled it at the elf.

Caythaes hit the ground with an "oof" as all the wind was knocked from their lungs. Ranek was jarred to semi-consciousness when he impacted Cay, but the blow made him see stars all over again. With Ranek stunned, this would be a lot harder than they'd like, but they were not about to let this be the end yet. They put another barrier on Ranek as they got back up, but this one felt different before– if Caythaes could get their spell off in time, healing en–

Someone started semi-yelling about parties and getting ready to die, and it took a second for Cay to remember that they’d changed their comm’s ringtone recently.

Why the FUCK was their comm going off? Okay, new plan; Caythaes used their other Door of Shadows to get behind Terry again, dragging Ranek along with them.

"I can stand…sort of." Ranek struggled to his feet, breathing heavily, and manifested another blade in his left hand. The Worgen curse allowed for faster healing, but it was nothing that could fix his body during this fight. Cay's aura helped dull the pain enough to let his right arm dangle at his side and focus on using his left.

Finally, Cay answered the call. "If- if this is anyone other than Belore, Eonar, or Shedwyn, I'm- I'm a bit busy trying to, uh. Not die right now."

"I don't know who any of those people are, but if you want to keep your tongue long enough to explain that at a later date, I expect you to keep this channel open." The Accuser ... was probably smiling when she said that, but gosh, it was hard to tell.

Terry's footfalls were awfully loud when they weren’t being interrupted by shouting, roaring, or blows landing, and they were coming closer.

He could almost certainly take a simple leap and close the distance without effort, but he was stalking them, eyes fixed unblinkingly on them while they babbled into a rock. Steam curled up from between his teeth as his body slowly cooled further, now a dull orange that was both better and worse than the white-hot he started with. The various slices and cuts Ranek had given him–as well as dozens upon dozens of others crisscrossing his entire body–glowed an angry red that was much more visible now.

"I don't suppose you still have need of that Sinstone, courtier?"

"O-oh, Madam Accuser, I didn't- one moment-" Caythaes pauses to press a hand to Ranek's side, giving his shadow magic a little boost to help numb the pain. "Okay, I'm sorry, I'm- I'm putting you on speaker, p-please do the thing!!"

One button later, Caythaes held the comm out towards Terry like a tiny shield.

Terry was... understandably puzzled, for a moment, by the small thing holding up a rock at him, and for a moment, he actually laughed, before the Accuser's voice exploded out of it. She was in full oratory mode, and it was a great and terrible voice that announced, "LET THE SINS OF TERRENCE SAMUEL AMBROCE BE KNOWN HENCEFORTH..."

Immediately he was done playing, letting out a horrific snarl and charging at Cay and Ranek.

Welp, Cay was out of Doors, so it was every person for themself. They gestured to the ground at Ranek's feet, throwing down a rune that would grant him a quick speed boost before doing the same for themself and darting to the side. They continued to–they paused to turn the volume up on their comm to full blast before continuing to hold it up.

Buy some time. Ranek charged forward to meet Terry halfway. The blade dissipated, and instead, he focused on the very shadows at Terry's feet, springing to reality a chain between the two Worgen. Ranek ran to the side, pulling tight on the chain to at least unbalance Terry and steer him away from Cay.

"Whose desire for adoration and glory saw him forsake his familial bonds…"

The commstone crackled with the red energies of Revendreth's anima as the Accuser spoke, and Terry's lip curled higher as he found his claws raking across only dirt and rock instead of elven flesh and bone.

"Whose arrogance saw him bargain for and with bodies, lives, and lands that were never his…"

The chain hissed and began to heat rapidly where it held him, and he had little time to do anything about it before he was staggering on one foot, arms wobbling almost comically before he regained his balance.

"Wow," Caythaes whispers as the Accuser speaks, scooting away as Terry staggers, trying to get out of crushing range should he fall.

Ranek held the chain tight and tugged hard, though with Terry's full attention shifted, he had serious doubts he could go toe to toe. But distracting and wounding were his only priorities. Believing the chain to be burning the great beast instead of the other way around, he held on as long as he could.

"Whose hatred was so unreasoning and vast that he saw no value in lives that were not human…"

"Oh, y-yeah, Leon did mention he- he was kinda racist, so-" That sin didn't surprise Cay much.

He'd been cooled rather a lot by now, but Terry was still too hot for metal to touch him and not get a glow-up. It still did an excellent job of frustrating him, even as he got his wits enough to snap his caught leg back and drag Ranek toward him. Stupidly, Ranek kept hold, so he was launched forward. He growled in response, charging Terry in a foolish attempt to slide between his legs and take the monster down with him.

"Whose pride allowed him to atone only for what he deemed a worthy mistake…"

The crackling around the commstone solidified into an ominous red glow, pulsating with the cadence of the Accuser's words.

"Sh-should I throw the comm at him? Or do we- is this when we start hitting him again? I've- I've never been to- to a Sinstone reading before." All the rituals they’d attended were the ones that involved fighting oozy sins made manifest.

"Who refused the hands that would save him, over and over again, even as he destroyed those he loved and lost himself..."

Terry grinned a vicious, evil grin as Ranek flew toward him and bent double. The sound of one Worgen slamming headfirst into the skull of another was an incredibly satisfying, coconut-like CLONK, but also it hurt way more than the friggin' giant seemed to be expecting, and they both reeled. The collision instantly knocked Ranek out, and like a puppet with its strings cut, Ranek dropped on the spot. He would not find out till later that the gamble worked.. just nowhere near how he expected it to work.

The glow around the commstone intensified, and anima manifested around it now, swirling around Cay's hand and then snapping out toward Terry. The Accuser's voice rose to a dull roar, despite her speaking with the same cold, dignified authority that she commanded at all times.

"Knowing his debts and their unworldly weight, he has yet to see them paid in full!"

Binds of furious red curled around Terry's wrists, dragging his arms back and preventing him from mauling Ranek any further.

"Faithless and heartless, this wretched soul stands destined for the Maw, lest he accept our final outstretched hand!"

Three more binds appeared on his ankles and finally around his massive neck, then practically threw him to the ground like Cay had snapped his leash. With a final angry flash, a glowing red muzzle clamped down on his snout, and he thrashed wildly, but to no avail.

After a few seconds of silence, the Accuser cleared her throat. "Well. Either that worked, or all of you are dead."

Terry hit the ground, and Caythaes stumbled a bit, then decided fuck it and just plopped down on their ass. Anar'alah, that sucked.

"G-given that I'm sure Ranek and I p-probably have a few sins to work off, and the fact that - that we're already here? I- I think we wouldn't go far, if we died. Th-thank you, he's... well, he's definitely not going anywhere, but uh- I- I don't know how we're going to- to get him over to Ardenweald." They paused to eye Terry over. "He's very... Big."

The Accuser clinically explained that the bindings she created lashed the soul directly to the sinstone, regardless of distance. It wouldn't do much for his weight, but that turned out to be less of a problem the longer they waited; as the body cooled off more and more, Terry seemed to be losing mass, excess material cracking and crumbling off of him like wood burning too long. The crumbly ez-bake-Worgen finally settled somewhere around nine and a half feet tall. He was still god damn huge, but not uh. That. Anymore.

"I'll send a few attendants with a carriage as quickly as they're able. If I can secure one or two stoneborn, it will of course be much quicker, but they are frequently occupied with more important matters, I'm afraid. Once the soul is safely within Sinfall, I can inspect it more closely." A brief pause, then, "In truth, I'm delighted that this worked at all. He was never dead, and the sinstone was a forgery, so... a bit dicey, hmm?"

"I- I don't think he's going anywhere, so. T-take your time. I- I appreciate everything you've-" They paused and exhaled a soft sigh. "I know there's... so many things of- of a higher priority, but- but I am very grateful for- for all you've done, Madame Accuser. I- I don't think we could have done this without you."

"Yes, I know; I am amazing, magnanimous, and extremely good at my job. But you are welcome. Let me know if anything changes."

Caythaes glanced over to Terry for a moment, figuring they could probably float him to make loading him into a carriage easier, then looked back to Ranek.

It took some time before Ranek blinked his eyes open again with a loud groan of pain. Now that Terry was no longer able to kill anyone and Ranek was groaning, Caythaes got up and walked over to him, squatting down at his side.

"Gods... who was blabbering their mouth?" He rolled his eyes. 

"TH-that was the lady who saved your ass, b-be nice to her, or- or she'll probably rip you a new one," Caythaes deadpans, shaking their head as they end the call and add whatever number the Accuser called them from to their contact lists. Wonder if she'd like cat pictures?

"Congratulations. I have- I have a skinned knee and probably a- a bruised hip."

Ranek groaned loudly, looking up at Cay. "G... good. Everything hurts. Wait.." He took a second. "Nope. My right hand is numb. Thought it was fine. Are my fingers wiggling?" They were not.

"I- I think you dislocated your shoulder. Do- do you want me to set that for you? I- I am very angry with you, by the way."

Ranek took a few breaths. "Dislocated shoulder, cracked rib or two. That head butt didn’t crack my head.. though my neck hurts." He chuckled softly, which became a cough. "Oh, don't get high and mighty. You made as many decisions to put yourself in harm’s way as I did. We did a good job protecting each other, so just.. leave it at that."

"A-anyway, even if I did, I- I somehow managed to- to come out relatively unscathed, didn't I? Y-you ever hear of dodging?" Shaking their head, Caythaes very gently rested a hand on Ranek's chest, humming as they pumped enough healing energy into him to stop the internal bleeding and make it safe for them to move him. "S-sit up. I'm- I need to pop your arm back into place and bandage it."

"Ah.. well. Glad she helped." He sighed, slowly sitting up with a pained grunt. "I dodged plenty. If I had taken any of those.. except for the last, I would be dead, or close to it." He looked up at his dear friend and patted their cheek with his good hand. "You did great. And for the record, I was luring Terry into a false sense of security by charging him. I had to do something." He laughed and nodded. "Set it."

Caythaes gave Ranek a look that clearly showed they disagreed, but they let it be, shaking their head as they shifted positions. Taking Ranek's dislocated arm with one hand and bracing against his shoulder with the other, they pulled until the shoulder bone moved and popped back into place. Then, Caythaes pulled out the bandages they were sent with.

"P-part of me wants to believe that, if I make you heal manually, th-the pain might make you reconsider your choices, but-" they grumbled as they bound Ranek's arm in place and fashioned him a nice little sling. "I- I also feel like, if you haven't learned by now, y-you're not going to. But I'm still annoyed, so- so I'm not going to be nice."

A bit more bickering and shenaniganery passed on the way back to Sinfall to meet up with the Accuser and figure out what to do with their quarry. By the time they'd all gathered again, the oversized Worgen had hardened into something not unlike twice-fired clay and gone inert. It was blissfully quiet but very disconcerting up till it was confirmed that he was, in fact, still alive in there. The Accuser was... rather put out, to put it mildly, once she'd been given a more detailed explanation of just how half a soul had ended up like this. Among far harsher terms, she'd referred to Eonar as incompetent. Once her temper had settled, she set about figuring out the best way to separate the soul from the wierd, wierd body.

After about an hour, she just had a dredger hit him with a hammer and chisel while she held a soulkeeper at ready. To her own annoyance, it worked just fine, and she almost spiked the thing like a football before passing it off and all but pleading to get that absolute headache out of her sight.

Reassembling the soul pieces is somebody else's problem.

Also it turned out that comm number Cay had saved was for the dredger that’d asked for everyone’s teeth if they’d died. Good news is, Muckle does like cat photos.