Synopsis: A collection of Celestials gather in Isus to unite against the Deathknight Necrosis. Necrosis crashes the party.

Players: Azami, Alseia, Minus The Bear, Orduin Of The Tools, Metin, Judicious Fist.

Run By: Lytek

 

Minus the Bear is usually known for being unassuming and polite to those weaker than he, but today he bears his power like a cloak. With guile and honeyed words he drew forth a small army of Heaven's Chosen and now he speaks before them. "My peers," he says firmly, voice resonant, "I bring you hear to speak of a dreadful threat to our world - a weapon unearth that is a dagger held at the throat of not merely our countrymen, not merely our countries, but our very world."

 

The Senate chambers at Isus. Orduin had studied them, and unfortunately noticed that it'd be trivially easy to watch those within. "Someone will have to explain the design of these places.." Orduin murmured under his breath, but remained at the sidelines until prompted to offer forth technical details of the situation.

 

Metin is currently taking up three of the rather fine chairs of the senate as he stretches out - boots on one and elbows resting on the arms of another. "Does he always talk like this?" he asks of the room at large, taking a bite out of the apple he holds.

 

Judicious Fist sits still as the marble stone which makes up the floor if the chambers, mountainous orichalcum hands clasped before him. He is the model of the First Age Dawn, powerful and regal, the threat of a sword and the promise of a shield. He square in middle of the row of seats, taking everything in.

 

Azami sits at the edge of the great table laid in the center of the council chamber, her arms wrapped about her stomach as if cold, a wide silvery scarf wrapped about her shoulders like a mantle. She's dressed as she's rarely seen outside of Isus, in a tailored dress of purples and ivory raw silks, her long white hair worn long and unbraided down her back. She watches the others with her eyes, but her lynx's ears are constantly flickering here and there, listening for any sound that comes not from the assembled.

 

Minus the Bear continues. "Many of you have encountered the Deathknights, and perhaps wondered or feared at their might. Even those of you who have not have surely heard the tales. Entire cities emptied, leaving nothing but corpses. Plagues sown like rose-petals. Terrible necrotic engines of destruction that rend city walls asunder." He pauses. "I do not rally you here for some vague future promise of danger," he snaps curtly. "I am not a politician who seeks to win influence over you through fear. I am here to inform you without exaggeration that one of the deathknights has acquired a weapon originally forged to kill worlds, and he is inclined to use it."

 

In addition to Azami, ten identically masked figures pore over the walls and windows, examining under crevices, seeking and killing flies where they find them.

 

"Theatrics aside.. He's not kidding." Orduin speaks up. "The weapon has an range to strike anywhere within Creation's borders as well as Yu-Shan. It was designed.. And from the few intact records, does indeed.. Strike down Primordials. In short, cities, nations, armies, gods, Exalts.. Everything this thing can target, and everything this thing can bring low. We seek allies to knock it out of comission and hopefully end the one who made it."

 

"So point me in the right direction already," says Metin, rocking upright fast enough to nearly unbalance his chair. "I've had enough of this petty worry over sad ghosts already, I could use a /real/ fight."

 

Judicious Fist clenches fists that could crush granite together, face darkening into a grim mask. "I stand besides you," the man says, standing from his chair so his voice can be heard, "And I can think of no reason any would avoid this fight. Save your theatrics: Tell us where we might strike, instead, to destroy this enemy of Sol."

 

Minus the Bear says, "Patience, Metin. You'd be well served to let us serve as your shield-bearers, and guard your approach from the monsters that guard this weapon so you can conserve your energies for the more worthy foe who waits within. Fist, Metin, your ardor does you credit. Our concerns are that it may not be possible to destroy this thing without firing it, and that, worse still, it may already be prepared to fire at the deathknight's command. The deathknight in question, Necrosis of the Soul, has... a flair for the theatrical, and may merely be delaying the first strike for a dramatic moment.""

 

"No need to bore them with technical details." Orduin held a hand up. "We get in, I dump new coordinates in, we try and bring down Necrosis Of Original Names." The Twilight said simply. "There's no elaborate planning in this, apart from -getting- there. It's the Vir Sidus Shadowland. Down a hole."

 

Metin gives vent to a bark of laughter, muttering "Do I /look/ like I use a shield?" before turning to Orduin. "Then what are we waiting for. He wants a show, let's give him ring-side tickets."

 

Judicious Fist grins despite himself. "If we can find our way to this enemy, if we can locate him and his weapon, then there will be nothing he can do to save himself. I promise such before my brothers and the Sun."

 

Minus the Bear says, "Orduin: your face only speaks truth and good sense. Do us the favor of providing a short description of what we might face there."

 

"You both must be awfully brave," Aza murmurs, and glances between Fist and Metin. Short as she is, her bare feet swing just a bit above the polished marble floor, peeking out amid the layers of her skirts. With her arms still crossed over her stomach she looks directly at Minus as if to say: And you brought this here.

 

"Alright. Everyone here has some undead experience. There will be zombies, ghosts, and likely Hungry Dead." Orduin explained simply. "But there's worse. This guy's mastered some new breed of necromancy I'm still trying to categorize. Imagine playing mix-and-match with body parts from the corpses of anything you have or can grab. Graft on soulsteel and make living.. Well, undead.. Weapons. They'll be there. We'll face Necrosis himself, whose probably packing some spells. And then there's the question mark; if he's gotten new pals, we might face them as well."

 

Judicious Fist nods, raising a great hand to cups his cleft chin in thought. "So he has many resources. We must find a way to stack the odds in our favor. Do we dare lead troops? Will they be of aid in the coming conflict?"

 

Minus the Bear says, "My only troops are the... My clan of demons. They are strong fighters, worthy of clearing the dross from our path lest we tire before the main event. They should be sufficient - I think we lack the resources to lead a large force in to the den regardless."

 

"I fear any army we massed would only anger Vir Sidus and tie us down before we reach the target, delay us so the weapon is perfected, and give more time to spy on us and learn how to do the most damage to us." Orduin, in the back of his head, is trying to hold back thoughts of what would hurt him. Necrosis blamed him personally, after all... "Then there's the whole 'Sheer cliff' thing. Armies fare badly there."

 

The doors open and shut once again, and Alseia enters the room, tucking down the hood on a gray cloak she was wearing. Her bright eyes scan the area, looking for people she recognizes, and noticing those she doesn't. Everyone gets an amiable nod, and she joins Azami, folding her hands in front of her.

 

"Armies would just slow us down anyways," says Metin, speaking up again. "We go in, we kill them, we destroy it. It's simple."

 

Azami greets Alseia quietly, her green eyes going to the other young woman before returning to their task of restlessly moving about the room, her ink-tipped ears turning this way and that. Ozin sits just below where her feet dangle over the floor from where she sits on the edge of the great council table.

 

Clap. Clap. Clap. The sound echos through the chambers like thunder. "Theatrics you say?" comes the voice of Necrosis of the Soul. "No my freinds. I do not have a 'flair' for dramatics. That I rightly left ot Choices in Darkness." The sound of bootsteps is heard the man bravenly walks into the council chamber and walks toward it's front. Turning he eyes thr assembled celestials. "All of you. For me? I am surely touched." Clasping his hands behind his back and raises an eyebrow and looks over the Celestials there. "You are no doubt wondering, why is that stunning good looking man here, and what is he planning with the Magnificent Heavenly Bombardment of Burning Destruction?" He holds a hand up. "All very good, intellectual questions." He points a finger to Judicious Fist. "I'm impressed. It's like you are learning." he claps his hands again.

 

 Looking at Alseia Necrosis Continues. "But. The matter at hand. Creation!" he spreads his arms wide. "Look at it's splindor! Look at the way these.... Mortals..... Cling to life like some sort .... Hope. But what is life?" he gestures casually to Azami "She has seen the wonders of the Underworld. Seen what those who no longer cling to the flesh like so much meat can accomplish. Wonderous cities. Wonderous deeds. Some by your past lives." he spreads his hands again. "I have created the vessel for which I will speed Creation to it's next evolution, and I invite all of you here to join me. My Master," the last word is said with some obvious distaste, "wishes you all to be given this chance. To join him at his citadel. Dine with him. Speak not words of war, but words of peace and of the future." He clasps his hands behind his back again and tilts his head in thought as he listens to upcoming ranting.

 

"Then we intend to move with urgency, good." The Judicious Fist's voice rings in warm caramel tones across the marble. "If we gain nothing by waiting, then we should plan our journey immediately."

 

Minus the Bear holds a hand. "Metin, Fist - if you attack him, he'll spirit himself away somehow. Save your sword."

Judicious Fist clenches a fist which bursts into a roaring flame. "You speak the truth, Minus--yet if he spirits himself away, then I shall no longer have to listen to him. What say you, Metin?"

 

Alseia tilts her head to one side. "I'm not sure he's actually here. Ten shekels says it's some kind of projection." And then she tests her theory by producing a slender knife from somewhere on her person and hurling it with devastating precision towards Necrosis' head.

 

Metin shrugs. "To what, did you say something?" The young solar stands, stretching, leaving his back to Necrosis. "We were planning to head out for the shadowland, weren't we? Why are we waiting?"

 

Minus the Bear smiles. "I like your style, Metin."

 

"Hey, it's that ugly fool. Got another of those half-functioning Bonestriders for me to take apart again?" Orduin raised a brow. "Why indeed." Orduin rose from his seat, starting to walk. "Try to keep up, kiddo. And remember how badly this went the past two times. Now I've got signifigantly more firepower." A wink.

 

Necrosis of the Soul tsks at Judicious Fist. "See. Here I thought you ahd learned something from our last encounter, be still and listen, you may leanr somehting useful child." The Dagger flies and sticks into Necrosis' chest. He looks down and raises an eyebrow. "Princess.... That was... Most unlady like." The Dagger then ejects out of his boddy and clatters to the ground.

 

Minus the Bear says, "Perhaps you'd care to come watch, Necrosis, and critique our technique? Surely you could provide us with much needed guidance, as a wiser elder."

 

Alseia blinks. "Hey, I'll be," she says, surprised. Necrosis' jab doesn't even elicit a sneer. "I lose some money this time. You guys would rather ignore him than force him to spend essence? If we're headed straight there, advantage is to us."

 

Minus the Bear says, "No, I'm inclined to see how the decanthrope handles him."

 

The ten masked faces raise their masks as one, revealing murderous grins.

 

Metin mutters, "You and your demons. It's not healthy."

 

Azami remains silent through all this talk... and when Necrosis' voice booms out cultured and clear in her city's innermost sanctum she does not look entirely surprised, though she lowers her eyes and exhales quietly. Her lynx's ears tilt back and her lips thin to a line. In that room full of Solars, the Lunar is wordless, listening, watching, her short tail swishing pensively behind her.

 

"I'm afraid I'm a slow learner, Necrotic one. Perhaps you should remind me again why I should stay still and listen?" Fist slams one flaming fist into the palm of his other hand and martials his essence about him.

 

Necrosis of the Soul raises an eyebrow. "I'll be frank. I'll dismiss them." Points a finger to Fist says SImply "Kill him. Becuase he's too stupid to let live. Gene pool. You understand." Then points a finger to Metin, Alseia "Attempt to get her to do that move she did in teh barrel last time. /such/ a lovely view of her Creation it still gives me pleasant dreams, Then Orduin will and Minus will do their Creatures of Darkness attacks and I'll dissipate." He shrugs. "/Such/ a waste of time. I'll still be at the Magnificent Heavenly Bombardment of Burning Destruction, because I'm a stubborn bastard."

 

"Your theory is pretty good. You beat us there by sorcery. Um, just one problem. What if this wasn't what it looked like?" Orduin asked politely. "Say, some vital detail was being faked, because it was obvious you'd be watching?"

Necrosis of the Soul smiles and sighs in delight. "See. Conversation. Is that too much to ask for?" he looks to Orduin and holding his hands in front of hims says "Well Orduin of the Tools, I would be pleasantly surprised."

Metin gives an overly-large yawn and starts walking for the door.

 

"We really must be going. See if you can figure it out! It's like a puzzle-box. Ever get one for Ascension Day?" Orduin walks on. "You're a smart guy. You have to figure out how I've beat you to the punch."

 

"Ozin," Aza murmurs down to the little blue cat. "<C'mere.>" She reaches down and gathers him up, sliding down soundlessly to her feet as she does so.

 

Alseia doesn't turn her back on Necrosis at any time, but quietly follow the rest of them out, her eyes flickering towards the demon briefly.

 

Judicious Fist lets the fires around his hands go out, wisps of smoke trailing towards the sky. "One of these days I will close your mouth with my fist. Until then, this shall have to do." Marshalling all of his willpower, Fist grins at the abyssal and walks from the room.

 

Laughing, Necrosis spreads his arms again. "Creation will burn Children of the Sun and Moon!" He laughs again. "You have been offered a place by my master's side in the new order." he looks at the retreating Solars and chucles once more. "I had hoped to spare some of you, until we meet again in the Valley of Shadows." Then he lurches forward and collapses, features melting into that of a different person who gags, as blood pools out of his throat and onto the floor.

 

Azami straightens as the others walk from the room, settling the blue cat onto her shoulder. She does not move toward the door, nor stir from where she's been the entirety of the debacle, but instead rests gazes at Necrosis evenly and listening to the sound of the Solars footsteps as well as the laughing words.

 

 When the face of the man whose body Necrosis stole is revealed she casts her gaze up to the cieling briefly, then steps forward rather more sharply and goes to close the sightless eyes.

 

Alseia pauses in her trek out the door, and kneels beside the victim of Necrosis. She breathes a single mote of her energy onto his forehead, where it blazes, then fades, the body instantly consecrated. There is a darkness in her eyes now, a tiny fragment of a terrible grief, and she meets no-one's gaze.

 

As she is closing the man's eyes, Aza's fingers stray over his forehead and pause. She takes something from the skin there and turns it over in her fingers thoughtfully as the body is sanctified in flame by Alseia. "He was probably already dead," the young woman says quietly to Alseia, and tuck the fly into her palm.

 

"It barely matters," mutters Minus, rubbing his forehead. "I should have known he would come. I'm sorry I brought this to your doorstep, Aza'ni."

 

"I doubt it, the blood would not have run so freely," Alseia suggests sadly.