by YourNewOverlord » Fri Nov 07, 2014 10:38 pm
Chaos. The battlefield has become sheer chaos. Zonoro has flat out turned away from the Army of the Dead to deal with Highlich's army, and Xstar is standing some distance away, as if in a trance, with several warriors and The Ghoul advancing on his unresponsive form. The Ghoul ensures that is one fight I want to stay as far away from as I possibly can.
The Army of the Dead, unfortunately, seems to be recovering from Zonoro's attack, and, with the other two targets occupied, they seem to be turning to me. The Shadow, The Demon Lord, and Paradox all seem particularly focused on me, and the dead are advancing.
I turn towards Highlich's army, running straight towards the lesser of the two threats. One overpowered psychopath with a grudge against me is certainly better than three. As I go, a plan begins to take shape. We have absolutely no chance of beating this army. We might, might, take some of them with us, but we would lose eventually. Maybe... maybe I can use that. But if this is going to have a chance of working, I need Zonoro's bells. Which means I'll be heading right into battle with Highlich hims-
Panic. I'm sprinting faster than I ever have before, in a new direction, and I'm not sure why. Before I can take a second to figure out what's going on, there's a searing pain on my arm and,
A new direction, fear guiding my feet. Running from something, arms bleeding. Have to get
Limping. So much pain. I don't understand
Renewed energy. Something is burning nearby, and one of my swords is soaked with blood that isn't mine. I've used spells, but I don't know what-
Still running. Close to where we defeated the Avatar. Something is affecting my memory. How did I get here?
"Enough!" I shout, putting up a magical shield around myself, trying to think. What could possibly be doing this? What could be attacking me? I turn in a circle, but I don't see anything...
I have an instant of warning- the breaking of my shield, but it isn't nearly enough. There's a faint sense of pain, of warmth. My hand goes away to my throat, and comes away, red and wet.
I try to say something, but I can't. It takes a second to realize what's happened. Someone has slit my throat.
I'm about to die.
I fall into the river of the dead, blood running down the front of my armor. For one split second, I get a view of a small child with long hair and dead, soulless eyes, knife slick with blood that's probably mine, and I remember all the things that had been taken from me- seeing it coming, fleeing, getting attacked, trying to fight back, finding out that magic is useless on it.
Then my head is under the water, I'm starting to drift away, and none of it really matters. There's something funny about getting killed by a small child, but then, it isn't really a small child, is it?
There's something metal in my back, and I wish it would just go away, let me drift down the river, but it's rather insistently caught on my cape. Why can't it just let me die? Absentmindedly, I reach down, try to tug it away.
It's a piece of pipe- organ pipe? - and the last part of my mind that isn't gone realizes the significance, lets magic flow down into my hands, reactivate the pipe.
It starts by degrees, a trickle, but little by little, I start to come back from death. The cut on my throat closes, the blood drying. I tighten my grip on the pipe, flood it with magic, and just like that, the Avatar's broken soul pipe floods me with the spirits of the dead, healing me. I get to my fight, pipe still in the river, drawing strength from the souls of the
There is a knife in my stomach, with an armless hand still attached to it, and my sword is slick with someone else's blood again. I pull the knife out, not quite sure of what's going on, letting the wound heal. All I have is a sense of satisfaction and relief. There's a trail of blood leading away from me, but it's being swept away by the river, and I have no urge to follow it.
Walking slowly, a knife coated in my own blood in one hand and a soul-draining pipe in the other, I continue down the river, back towards Highlich's army. I have a plan now, at least. This needs to succeed.
The dead are catching up with me, of course. But, as it turns out, the pipe and the knife make for very good weapons. A swift jab from the pipe absorbs the entire animating force of a dracolich, while the slightest touch of the knife causes the dead to fall apart in pieces. Some kind of antimagic? I pick up the pace, knowing that, sooner or later, something I can't defeat so easily will catch up.
I hit Highlich's army, cutting a swath through them, moving towards where I had last seen their master. I need to get those bells and get away from all of this, as soon as I can, before things spiral into a situation I can't control. If one of the masters of the precincts were to be killed... the upheaval that could cause would be disastrous.
As I think about it, I come into a clear spot in the army, stop short. My breath catches in my newly-healed throat. This is about to be an interesting battle.
To the side of the circle stands Mechanecromancer, looking worried. That expression quickly turns to anger as he recognizes me.
A few feet away, Zonoro's bells lie on the ground. I'm so close... but of course, it can't be that easy. For, a few feet beyond those, holding the staff of Vez'nan, stands Highlich Morgaeron, looking very, very angry, and very, very dangerous.
Ideas whirl through my head- he's beaten Yrael, I shouldn't kill him, the power vacuum would be too great, I've killed him before, I should do it again...
Then I realize it doesn't matter. I either kill him, or I die. My plan has to succeed if I want to get out of here. I ready my knife and pipe, and charge.
So what'd I miss?