Cruel Fate (IC)

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Warsman

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Do you even understand...

---

The finer concepts of reality are shorn away.

A gash, not unlike a gaping wound, appears between dimensions. Long ago, he looked upon this reality with contempt. Now it is mere destiny that he should do this. Eventually, it will happen. It is inevitable. Perhaps his future will be determined this day, or perhaps it will be pushed aside for a later date.

It is all according to the laws that all beings prescribe to, even the distant many-angled things hiding between the walls of understanding and conceptual thought.

He approaches.

Dark, lingering on the cusp of corporeal and ethereal, smoking tendrils consuming entire worlds and leaving them as they once were. He uses them as a stepping stone, leaving naught but his shadow for sane minds to contemplate. Maybe he would be worshiped as a god on that planet until its dying day. Or the primitive minds belonging to it, twisted and crippled in agony, would merely be the staging grounds of the Horror to come.

Yet he clawed his way into the CVnU, penetrating deeper into the sphere with every passing moment. His unfathomable universal mass a whisper and a dream, a nightmarish ghoul leaping from star system to star system. He drew closer now, to the gates of magic. Here he would take the plunge into the next phase of his spiteful plan.

However, always were there obstacles in the way of true genius - this situation notwithstanding.

(@below0gaming, @jean_knightfall)

He materialized a body, the entirety of his malleable universe-spanning mass confined to a single entity. Tall, beautiful, and with an emotion on his plaster-white face betraying minor annoyance intermingled with sudden and bold remembrance, he approached the gates of the arcane realm.

No Caption Provided

"Hello again, Jean Knightfall. Have you been well?" he asked redundantly.

"Move aside. I have a realm of magic to unleash into realspace."

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Jean_Knightfall

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@warsman: @below0gamingItalicized text is telepathic communication.

"No."

Now, Hastings. Like I told you. Book of the Vishanti, Chapter 24, Verse 16.

"I am Jean Knightfall. Sorceress Supreme of this dimension, the protector of the realm."

Acathla, mundatus sum...

"The fire of Tiamat burns in my blood."

Mabra, brahoring, mabra...

"Reality itself bends to my will."

Lemarchand, Lament, Lemarchand...

"I know you. I witness you. And I bar your way."

Khornath! Slaaneth! Nurgolth! TZINTCHI!

"We are Wizards! We are the Wise! And we will end you here, for the good of reality."

No Caption Provided

Chapter 24, Verse 16, of the Book of Vishanti is a special spell. It doesn't function like much of magic, which essentially drains energy from you to fuel a spell. Instead, it completes the effect of the spell, and then drains energy, after the spell is completed, essentially functioning as a time-release spell. It has a significant energy drain, but it can be paid at the end of a combat, instead of the beginning, leaving you at full strength for a fight. It's actual effect is also quite interesting, and would seem to be designed exactly for this kind of fight. It seals any number of entities in one place for an indefinite amount of time. However, holding it in place for too long can result in all f your magic being drained, killing you. It is exceptionally useful in keeping Eldritch Abominations and the like out of your universe, but can only be held for as long as a mage has energy left to spare, making time of the essence.

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Maxwell_Hastings

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@warsman: @jean_knightfall:

1 Week Prior

The house had a way of speaking to him, normally through dreams. While Maxwell's mind, like most high level mages, exited his body into the realm of dreams Magic would speak to him through the house. It would show him images of whats to come, premonitions so to speak. This was a night in which it was nightmarish, he saw it all, the crippling of the universe and the layers of magic all melding into one. The next morning he awoke with a sweat, Ming entered his room requesting to know if his master was alright. Maxwell only gave him one response,

''Contact the sorceress supreme, we must prepare."

Now

Prepare they did, even now as they awaited on the cusp of the universes. The intersection of all things in the universe he became visible, a being of immense power standing before him. Upon his back Maxwell carried his Five Staves and in his mind he brought his arsenal. The beginning of their plan involved a spell the Grand Magic Overseer was not entirely aware of until recently, one used against beings such as this. As Jean spoke he also would, using their collective mana to create a sort of ward. It would seek to trap the being inside long enough for them to combat him, this was not all though. Maxwell always came prepared, once the spells cast was complete he reached up to his shoulder. A small silver buckle held the five staves to his back, once it unclipped he took hold of the leather strap and hurled them into the air. Their ends angled and stuck into the ground in front of him. He was now ready to do battle.

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Warsman

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@maxwell_hastings: @jean_knightfall:

Nothing you've done will be remembered...

---

No Caption Provided

The beast hungers.

Its humanoid shape burned away in a plume of smoke, becoming something more than titanic in size. The galaxy-spanning gates of magic became as a toy, left quivering in the wake of the massive abomination. He roared in anger, not agony, as the effects of the spells pierced his body, tying together limbs and binding his very existence to the crust of eternity. The combined might of two of the greatest magi was enough to hold him in place - albeit temporarily.

A ghastly sound emerged from his fathomless body, akin to laughter.

"And do you expect to bind me here for all eternity? While your magic wanes with each passing moment? I am so close to the doorway of all magic," he reached a towering hand forward, dwarfing both of them in size and scale.

His flesh seared down to the bone, reforming in bubbling arcs of energized shadows and blood. He could scrape the details of the archway, even now.

"And you are just mortal beings. Consume all of your magic here, in this one burst of defiance, and you shall be erased. What hope do you have?"

The miasma of his prison contorted around him, bringing the beast's leviathan form back into a distinct sphere of influence.

"I will fight forever. I can never die."

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Jean_Knightfall

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@maxwell_hastings: @warsman:

"No more words."

Jean drew her blade, recited an incantation mentally, and spun it. As it spun, a spark lit on the edge, and travelled the length of the blade to the tip. When the rotation was finished, and the blade pointed at the now-massive enemy in front of them, the spark was already a beam of pure light, blazing at the Warsman.

No Caption Provided

With the other hand, Jean drew symbols in the air, each appearing in a burst of color and disappearing, the magic calligraphy drawing power from around it, and creating something that would have been as much a threat in relapse as the power Warsman brought with him, were they in a populated realm. As it was, the miniaturized black hole created inside of the draconic monstrosity was a realistic assessment of the power needed to defeat him. If it worked, it would cause his form to fold inside itself, and disappear. If it didn't, it would be... unprecedented, to say the least.

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Maxwell_Hastings

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#6  Edited By Maxwell_Hastings

@jean_knightfall: @warsman:

Maxwell Hastings was at his core an anomaly, a man who was never supposed to have been born. He existed only in this time-line, there were no other versions of him throughout the multi-verse, and so he had devoted himself to understanding another anomaly. Magic was it's own beast and he sought to understand it to the best of his ability, now something dared to challenge that. Someone dared to threaten Magic for the second time since his resurrection. The only difference was that this time he was face to face with the enemy, with the being who sought to break it. This would not be allowed, he held no mercy through this fight. He held out both hands, making use of the distraction Jean would pose. Most assumed here the most powerful due to her title but, Maxwell's magic was not to be underestimated.

"Trace On...Gae Bolg."

In his right hand the blue energy known as Mana took shape in the palm of his hand. It solidified into the cursed spear who's very existence reversed the natural order of cause and effect.

"Trace On...Arcane Shackles"

In his left hand large golden chains took shape, the chains who sought to consume mana itself. He wrapped them around the base of the spear, using a trick he had used many times before. It was a deadly combination that made use of two of his most powerful Traced weapons. He planned to maximize it's efficiency in a way he had never tried before, using his now free left hand he would call forth one more weapon.

No Caption Provided

"Trace On...Eagle Eye"

The legendary Black Bow heard his call and his brain recreated it with exquisite accuracy. He did the unthinkable next, notching the spear and pulling the draw string back as far as it could go. He would make use of the bows, natural ability to launch arrows at high speeds for incredible distances to amplify the lethality of his Spear and Shackle combination. His right leg slid backwards as he took aim, the red tip of his spear gleaming in the light of this realm. He inhaled deeply, exhaled deeply, inhaled once more, and then KACHOOOOM.

The cursed spear moved through the air, it's flight path shifting constantly as it repositioned itself. It was seeking the heart of it's target, that was what it did. It was one of the most lethal weapons in existence, it was a nearly unstoppable blade. When used against a target it reverses the order of cause and effect making it so that the cause of it being thrust is that it pierces the heart rather then the blade piercing the heart being caused by the thrust. Couple that with it's edge being sharp enough to slice through indestructible super metals and it was a force to be reckoned with.

This, as with every other time he used the combination, was not the main goal. Rather the spear simply needed to come near him. In such a case the chains would spring into action, if the being was magical in nature they would seek him out, look to entangle him and feed off his magic to make themselves stronger. If he wasn't magical in nature then the chains would still seek to snake around him, they just wouldn't be able to increase their strength. In his own mind Maxwell knew that the base chains would not be strong enough to hold this beast, however if they could feed off of his mana they might just be able to do the trick.

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Warsman

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No Caption Provided

Do you know the extent of your own sins?

Even as the spear pierced into his form, Warsman existed.

And as the eternal vacuum within consumed all matter, Warsman existed.

A reality-spanning chasm into the void beckoned him into eternal destruction, opening within his very core and expanded outward.

Yet he existed.

The darkness, the unfathomable darkness, consumed the spear. His ethereal flesh collapsed and bones snapped under the weight of ages. Eldritch energies burned away all shadow coming to pierce something, anything, yet like all lights - it relied on fuel, fuel that simply was not there.

Magic that devoured magic, yet no such thing existed here. In his infinite form, Warsman did not rely solely on the arcane to power his campaigns of madness. Tendrils of eternal night sprung out from all directions, tearing at the seams once they latched hold of the insurmountable momentum of the device ripping deeper into his heart.

Yet grasp it they did.

Like a silver needle, they pried out from the center of his body, but the chains bound it further into his mighty breast. A thorn growing from thorns, one after another, barbed and hooked as to damage more coming out than going in. Warsman screeched into the eternal void, and it echoed back in kind.

His spine broke as his shadowy infinity bent inwardly. Every part of him screamed in agony, but he yet smiled a million-toothed grin and laughed openly.

"You cannot contain me!"

He dragged his corpse from the void, a thousand eyes darting across the stars so that they locked once more upon the two magi defending all conceptual thought and form.

"Gods be damned! Magic be damned! I am infinite! I AM WARSMAN!"

With a howl that blasted across the corners of all time and universal theory, a resounding thunder beyond thunders erupted as if a volcanic mound emerged on all sides.

A crack in dimensional reality emerged, neither here nor there, and it grew larger.

If he could not destroy the Gates of All Magic, then he would pry it from its place in this realm instead.