The Silent War

@_dark_knight: @mourningsparrow: @vinicius_corvo: @eddyemmerich: @black_void: @soulsexodus: @maya_liafador:Anyone else :)

Glancing to the left, the Shaytan's confident gaze fell upon the mystical mistress of Madrid, a proud head tilt silently conveying his approval. Often had he theorized that the Liafador's family holocaust had served to sharpen Maya's strategical sense of survival and tactical acumen. Twice now he had witnessed the Hybrid-Goddess implement and execute fundamental plans of action. That if not for the unfortunate intervention of unaccounted heroes, would have chained together a series of successful victories that could have very well redefined the historical timeline.

Quickly, attention was diverted to the right as the unknown Knightfall, identity and motives both concealed by equally innovative means, stealthily appeared amid a wave of surgical speed. The Shaytan looked but displayed no emotion, but instead, snapped his entire posture around in a simulatnious effort to snatch Maya's wrist as he heard her arcane articulation;

“and now…No More Humans”

"Maya N..!"he began but failed to finish. Interrupted as the mild mannered Dr. Emmerich spontaneously exploded into a metaphysical nightmare. Reflexively Nikademus contorted his body, redirecting his attempted grab at Maya, focusing now on the expressionless husk. Seeking to grapple its attire and pull it off their high-rise pistion, hopefully taking them both over the edge and into a spiraling free-fall towards the bottom of the cave.. Unaware that elsewhere the self-proclaimed Raysh and his cult of charlatans had begun to form. Gathering in hopes of bringing the full force of the faux league down upon the True Shaytan as he sought to capture a greater prize.

@supreme_shaytan@maya_liafador@eddyemmerich

Vinicius shook violently, a vein bulging above his brow as he looked on towards the action happening in and around the Dome of the Rock, desiring to be among the beautiful violence that he yearned for.

“Why can’t we go now, hag? By now I could have claimed at least a half dozen lives in the name of the Darkforce.” His face was red, eyes bloodshot. He was a mighty lion, king of the beasts, being held in place by a silken leash.

The demon witch Morna slithered to his side, hands sensually exploring his toned physique as she spoke, an dubious accent coloring her every word. “Vinicius..” she uttered, drawing out every single syllable. “You have come to Shadowland as an attack dog without a master, a sword without a swordsman. It is natural of you to want to strike but...any old dog can strike."

She bit into her finger, allowing dark blood to spring forth and fall to the ground. "You hold in your heart an intense rage, a rage that can burn cities, no, entire continents, to the ground. I have seen the future, Corvo. You are destined to be the Shaytan’s right hand, the iron fist with which he crushes his enemies...and yet...you desire to engage in such children’s games?” Morna stuck her bloody finger out to the group that now did battle at the front entrance of the Temple.

“Child, when the Supreme Shaytan calls, you answer. When The Supreme Shaytan wants, you give.”

With a snap of her distorted fingers, the party of Morna, Corvo, and five shadow wraiths was instantly transported from the rooftops of Jerusalem to what looked like a cave. A glowing pool of green illuminated a pair of bodies that were quickly plummeting from a high point towards the rocky cave floor.

“The Shaytan calls,” Morna hissed. “It's time you answer. Prove your worth.” The monstrous woman and her loyal men dispersed, giving Corvo a fair amount of room to maneuver with.

The Darkforce demon sent a wave of telekinetic energy up towards the pair of bodies, attempting to soften their fall or, if they were ready, help them land clean on their feet. Corvo waited a few seconds before uttering a brief, “Master...I have to come to serve.”

With blinding movement, the Aggressor pulled out his lightsaber, activating its scarlet blade before the movement of his hand had even ceased.. Armed with a wide defensive stance and deadly resolve, he stepped in front of the Shaytan and his companions, ready to stand with them in battle against whosoever looked to stop them.

@vinicius_corvo: @supreme_shaytan:

In the midst of the transformation a series of events unfolded all around Emmerich's husk; events significant enough to change the playing field entirely. At one moment, some girl uttered a familiar phrase. “No more humans.” With that, Doctor Emmerich's consciousness was seemingly completely wiped out. All that remained was the Void, which was struggling to determine where its other half went. Of course its face told no tale of that internal struggle. It's focus was primarily on getting back together, then and only then would it try digesting anything else.

Void felt a rough tug at its clothes as the collar of his shirt jerked him off a ledge with this strange man. Was this Nik? Most likely it was. He was the only voice it heard before emerging from that black prison Eddy locked it in. However this was still not important at the moment, The Void was still collecting itself even as it neared maximum velocity. Suddenly without warning its decent slowed to a crawl as if to help it to the ground. Whatever caused this was of no concern. Void's feet touched the ground followed by its knees, then hands.

While the monstrosity gathered its thoughts it began pounding its hands into the ground to break stone with ease. Within seconds, hundreds of marble-sized stones were within reach. Long, armored fingers dug into the improvised gravel pit to pull out the most jagged stones and shovel them into nearly limitless pockets. Should choice stones run low on supply more were created. Following the gathering of small stones, a few even larger were broken out. Those matched silver dollars in size despite retaining an external jaggedness. Eddy's other hollowed them using what little energy manipulation he had. Small vials were slipped inside his new stones which now contained oxygen destroyers.

Finally the Void felt itself come back together. It was able to focus on the surrounding area. Void and Nik were in a cave. Stalactites and stalagmites were abundant. Various arachnids littered the ground as well near a few puddles. Water steadily dropped from the cave's roof onto the Void's blank head. Nik and some other individual spoke however the husk wouldn't listen. Instead it collected various arachnids and coated its claws in their various venoms. Once it decided it had enough venom the husk returned to Nik.

Eddy's new form moved in an inhuman manner. The movements weren't smooth or elegant. They were sharp and fast. He moved as if a strobe light were fixed on in. Unlike short-range teleportation no level of invincibility was granted. What was granted was the impossibility of plotting his next move based on muscle movement. The nearer the Void came, the more noticeable the trail of black tar was behind him. Even more noticeable was the speed in which it vanished.

“Hunger.”

Somehow a growl and whisper at once. That one word echoed in the cave. If nightmares were capable of speech they would sound like the Void. Its suit remained in perfect shape. Despite destroying stone and arachnids, his suit was unblemished. What was this thing? Only Eddy knew and Eddy was gone.

@naamah_obyzouth: @soulsexodus:@_dark_knight: @eddyemmerich: @maya_liafador: @katraya

The League was met at an entrance with a mixed group of Shadowlanders and Cardinals, who Sparrow tore through in seconds with his rings. The rest would guard the other entrances, oblivious through the illusions of The Liar. "Strike." A hail of arrows fired, led by the Black Arrow. They would be numerous enough to impact every member of the false league. The archers then spread out, covering the rest. His liuetenants would hang back, buffing and assisting Sparrow's troops, while infantry would engage their counterparts in Shadowland, but Sparrow had plans for two. "Katraya, Eufrit. Take the faceless... thing. صائد الظلام, with me." He motioned for the Dark Knight to follow him, as he advanced through the carnage towards Nikademus and the Red Cardinal. He fired a burst of anti magic lightning, expecting a quick follow-up from his ally.

@mourningsparrow: @naamah_obyzouth: @soulsexodus:@_dark_knight: @eddyemmerich: @maya_liafador:

Katraya promptly teleported to the chamber where she saw her target fall over into the deeper parts of the cave. She shook her head and teleported again, materializing in front of the Supreme Shaytan, his faceless ally and the lightsaber wielding one. Katraya was a woman of orders though and she ignored the other two for the time being, though she was keeping an eye on them. The faceless thing moved like nothing she had ever seen before, she attempted to predict its movements but found it virtually impossible. One moment it was in one place, the next it was in another. Curious. When you can't track something, blast the areas around it and force it to redirect or catch it in a blast.

Katraya swapped magazines, replacing her armor piercing rounds with the normal high explosive variety. She removed her second OVK from her shoulder and prepared to fire both if neccessary. For now she focused on the faceless thing and rather than try to predict it she laid down a rapid pattern of high explosive rounds, each one aimed for the floor all around her target. With luck it would be caught in one of the blasts but she was prepared for an altogether different scenario. She licked her lips, thrilling in the sensation of battle as her mental clock counted down the minutes to the ever critical two hour mark. For now she had plenty of time.

Katraya kept her eyes on both the Supreme Shaytan and his light saber wielding companion. If either moved in her direction she had her second gun ready to fire. She sent a neural impulse to her backpack and short metallic wing like structures soon slid out from the protective armor plating that covered the backpack. By putting her jetpack on standby she prepared herself for a swift exit from the scene if things got out of hand or her backup failed to arrive. She could teleport as well of course but preferred the dual options in the event her teleportation was blocked or otherwise failed for any unforeseen reason.

The Mahane Yehuda marketplace was crowded with people from all walks of life. Young, old, able-bodied, blind, and every ethnicity under the sun. Over 250 vendors had congregated to sell their wares, but Aoife was looking for one in particular.

Known only by his first name, Elijah was highly regarded as a broker of a particular sort of antiquities, and she was looking for something specific. The rumor was that there was a dagger, one having once belonged to none other than Judas Iscariot. Within this dagger were runes etched with an ancient and holy power. They brought a suffering death to any who was so much as nicked by the blade.

She tugged the scarf obscuring her hair down over her forehead, ducked her head, and gracefully weaved through the crowd.

A slight jostle shifted her, and she corrected her path and continued on.

She could feel the mysticism steeped in her blood, and drew power from it as it swirled around and within her.

There were certain areas of the world, she'd discovered, steeped in ancient esoteric mysticism that called to her, that empowered her. Lands where ley lines ran in large amounts, lands where great magic had been done, or alternatively, terrible magic.

Jerusalem was a mecca of sorts for mysticism, in very different ways than Ireland had been.

Two children stopped playing with their pup and watched the foreign woman with their curious brown eyes as she continued sliding in and out of the crowd until she found the red drapes that designated Elijah's storefront.

She ducked behind it, taking respite in the cool, shaded interior and breathing in the scent of jasmine.

The air thrummed with mystic energy and she could feel it flushing through her.

Her fingers shook for a minute as she clenched her fist and pushed back the scarf covering her hair.

"Aoife."

She spun, her gaze narrowing on the shaded corner. She'd looked directly there when she walked into the room, which meant he was capable of guarding and shielding himself from even the most astute observer.

"Elijah."

"The one and only, at your service," he replied, with a sardonic tilt of his head.

"Do you have the item that I requested?"

"You know what you're getting yourself into, correct? What this item is, what it will do, and what it will cost you?"

Her eyes went blank for a moment before a satisfied smile pulled at the curve of her lips, revealing for one moment the calculating woman behind her natural demeanor. "I know exactly what it is, what it will do, and have no problem paying the cost required to obtain it, Elijah."

He uncurled his long legs and stood, striding over and infringing on her personal space. He brushed a strand of hair off of her face, his lightly calloused fingers brushing against soft, sensitive skin.

She shivered under his touch, her eyes heating for just a moment before she reached out and pulled the cloth-covered dagger from his belt, spinning quickly away.

Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths as she got herself under control once again, steadying the trembling of her fingers as she gently unwrapped the coarse burlap from around the dagger.

The blade was beautiful. Short and straight, with three vibrant gems embedded in the hilt. She stroked a finger along the flat of the blade, careful not to draw her own blood.

The craftsmanship was perfect, and she could sense the power emanating from it.

She swiftly tucked it into the hilt attached to the belt slung around her waist, and bestowed Elijah with a beaming smile as she readjusted the scarf over her head.

"I'll be collecting in full, Aoife," he rasped as she moved to leave the tent.

"Ach, of that I have no doubt," she drawled in her brogue.

As she reached out to sweep the scarlet curtain out of her way, a wave of magic hit her with the force of a tractor trailer.

Her eyes went pure obsidian as she fell to her knees, her entire body absorbing what was a chaotic wave of arcane magic cast out by the Cardinal Princess, Maya Liafador, in a bid of fractured reality.

She was a siphon, one unlike anything that had come before or after, and the magic instead of seeping into her, flooded her like a deluge.

For one moment of pure clarity, she could feel her brother in her head, his presence stronger than anything else. And it was that moment that her instincts took over, and she blinked from one location into the next.

Painful shudders wracked her body as she appeared beside her brother, momentarily curled into the fetal position on the ground.

Her wolf was fighting with everything to get out, and she could feel claws pressing at her skin, about to burst through her fingertips.

She swallowed the magic down, fought it back, and woman prevailed over wolf as she got to her knees, and stumbled to her feet.

The scarf had fallen, revealing her hair beneath it, her wild eyes, and freckles standing out stark against pale skin as she fed off of the chaos surrounding her.

She had been born to fight. Born for it and then trained for it, and she could feel it in the air around her. The need to draw a weapon and cut into armies surged through her veins, even as she gorged on the mystic energy that hung so oppressively in the air, sending electric surges through her in a manner that made it hard to maintain any semblance of control.

She was finely leashed fury, and she was ready to be set free.

@katraya: @maya_liafador: @below0gaming: @supreme_shaytan: @naamah_obyzouth: @soulsexodus: @eddyemmerich:@mourningsparrow: @AllTheSingleLadies:

"كما يحلو لك، سبارو <As you wish, Sparrow>."

Silent archers of the society stalked behind them at their al Shaytan's command, gracefully maneuvering to tactical positions before waiting for special indication that they should act. As the Sparrow and the Knight approached the Supreme Shaytan and the Carmine Sorceress, Mason unfolded his compound bow, whilst simultaneously drawing an explosive arrow from his quiver. The metallic reverberation of a nocked arrow resounded.

As the Mourningsparrow correctly anticipated, the Dark Knight rose to the occasion of following his lightning with assaults of his own. Behind the ghostlike mask of ivory, his brows creased, exhibiting concentration as he attempted to psychically enforce the paralyzing effects of bloodbendingupon Nikademus, the Red Cardinal, and anyone else that stood with in very close proximity to them.

Should his bloodbending prove momentarily successful, he sought not only to paralyze them to guarantee the success of Sparrow's anti magic arcs of lightning, but to ensure that the combustible arrow released from his bowstring would reach and explode upon them.

@naamah_obyzouth: @eddyemmerich: @soulsexodus:@vinicius_corvo: @black_void: @mourningsparrow: @katraya: @aoife: @_dark_knight: (hope I got everyone, and addressed the attacks. lots going on lol)

Without command or verbal order the Darkforce disciple and loyal arbitrator of the 'True' Shaytan reacted with inherent instinct. Un-apologetically bending gravity's will. Its momentary subjugation allowing the Xsoteric; as well as the mystical medusa, Maya Liafador, to gymnastically hit the ground and roll. Or in Nikademus' case; while in simultaneous concert, hit, tuck, and roll into a crouched deportment. Exploding into instant action, surgically drawing three, three inch interlocking circular sigils directly in front of his path with his third finger (or Saturn finger). 3's, the first perfect number. Geometrically represented in the triangle, spiritually, the third eye of Hinduism, but in more sinister corners, symbolically revered as the hidden signature of 666. And in the Sleeper's case the first spell of the Initiated, a Banishment spell.

As the creature regained its senses, momentarily lost as a result of its human host's untimely disappearance, Nikademus purposely held, paused in anticipation.

'Hunger' the creature gluttonously groaned. The gaze of Nikademus sharpening, as he fired his open palm down into the center of the esoteric insignia before articulating with authoritative pronunciation and centered concentration;

"They exchanged the truth of God for a lie and worshiped the creature rather than the Creator..." - Romans 1:25

In an ignition of magical light the sigils began to glow, the Shaytan's quick incantation seeking to ensnare the expressionless monstrosity in a supernatural banishment spell. Which, if successful, would spontaneously remove the dapper demon from the playing field all together and safely contain him within the arcane walls of the legendary sanctum, Montessi DaBrickashaw. Hopefully until such time as the Sleeper could fully attend to the creatures needs. He wasnt sure what had happened to the Doctor, but he was confident he was alive, somewhere. His research and work were simply too vital to dismiss, and the Shaytan had already theorized the correlations between the human, and the creature. Bring the human back, pacify the devil.

However, regardless of his attacks statistically success or failure, the unexpected skirmish had dramatically impaired the mathematical mystic's preordained time table. The ensemble of ever changing numeric equations that continually filtered through Nikademus' field of vision, had not only been radically altered, they no longer fit. Perfectly illustrated by the machinegun madame's spray'pray attempts to subdue the suit and tie wearing apparition. Her interruption and arrival having been shielded from the Sleeper's precognitive plans.

So as the expected arrival of the usurper and his rebuilt League of Shadows erupted at the mouth of the cave, in what could only be described as anything other then stealthily, the fact that the unforeseen variable had already altered the Sleeper's calculated algorithm of statistical probability had allowed him to be taken by surprise. The small collection of Shadows Nikademus had brought with him were immediately cut down by the familiar, yet visibly evolved visage belonging to the self-proclaimed Raysh aL'Shaytan. And then it hit him, he felt it. He wanted to roar out in protest as his men, his loyal followers were mercilessly cut down. But he didnt. Instead he showed no visible signs of distress or discomfort, nor did he lose awareness as a symphony of simultaneous chaos flooded the subterranean grotto.

Even in his physical prime before the carcinogenic effects of the Black House diminished his acrobatic excellence, Nikademus was never fast enough to dodge lightning. Luckily, he didn't have to. Intuitively dodging Morning's aim, rather then the arsenal fired. Only after his stylish dive to the left behind rocky cover did the Sleeper even realize it was an electrical bolt. Its signed aftermath still smoking where the Shaytan had only moments prior, been standing.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, in-spite of her adjacent position to the True Shaytan, Maya, and Corvo, Mourning Sparrow's winged warrior was not exempt from his offensive onslaught. With arrows sent to assault anyone within close proximity of the group. Nikademus had long since regarded the title of the Shaytan as a curse, as it was intended. Never a badge of honor or glorification. Men of virtue should desire more then a life of the League. Or so he believed. His own guarded reasoning behind becoming Raysh Al'Shaytan would silently remain behind self-conscious lock and key however. Still, having witnessed the opening offensive of the new and supposedly better League Nikademus felt more confident then ever that the title was poisoned.

Suddenly and without warning, a trifecta of unbelievable actions converged as the ivory masked assassin and would be Faux Shaytan unleashed an internal assault via his profound bloodbending talent. The Sleeper's internal alchemy shielding the sensitive fluid coursing through his veins, allowing the antagonistic architect of the arcane to grin in silent defiance. He could only hope his allies were equally adapt at handling the all but extinct art of internal manipulation. The sound of hundreds of arrows plowing into the rock, walls, ground, dead bodies, and even the left shoulder of the mighty Shaytan himself resonated throughout the cave with profound intimidation. But the Shaytan and his council did not balk.

In a dexterous display, Nikademus rose up from his underfunded sanctuary using his good arm to fluently propel his body up and over the apex of the rock. Moving at near-superhuman speed and with articulated rhythm, not unlike the tranquil rhythm of a figure skater, the True Shaytan evaded incoming arrows while setting up his line of sight, zeroing in on the masked assassin and league charlatan, صائد الظلام . Blasting his functional arm forward with untraceable reflexive speed, attempting to cave the assassin's mask inward, crushing his face along with it. Utilizing a similar yet less surgically inclined attribute commonly referred to as TK.

There was no loss of motion nor idol momentum as Nikademus continued to athletically conquer the topographical terrain. Unaware if he had successfully defeated his initial target, bot to him, it was inconsequential. He was sure the Darkforce deacon or the Liafador Legacy would effortlessly transition with tactical intelligence and engage the enemy.

Strategically chaining maneuvers together based off geometric factorization, it was only a matter of time before the Xsoteric closed the distance between himself the the usurper. Or so he thought. A blinding flash momentarily derailed Nikademus' forward progress, forcing him to readjust while taking into account the latest anomaly. "You shouldnt have come here" he stated with exited yet controlled exertion. Grabbing hold of the latest arrival as she surged, driving them both off to the side behind a substantial up-cropping of stone. "But since you are" he deviously grinned. Drawing her attention to the swirling whirlpool of supernatural emanation......

@vinicius_corvo: @aoife: @_dark_knight: @supreme_shaytan: @soulsexodus: @mourningsparrow

Sweat poured down the pristine face of the Red Cardinal her brief “thousand yard stare” the result of corruption, corruption that cause her mind to yield to the Darkness and allow Y-intercept to nearly erase homo-sapiens from existence. Was that brief moments powerful enough to see her fragment come to fruition? Possibly, but the odds were now balanced the reality warping goddess needed to tip them in her favor.

His voice, Nikadaemus; he brought her back; and even as the young teenager battled both the cosmic Y intercept possession, and the inevitable arrival of the phoenix force—Maya prevailed.

Corvo, the newest member to the unholy union sent a telekinetic blast at the falling Supreme Shaytan in an attempt to safeguard him from the pool; though Maya was never able to see the fruits of his efforts, her attention was immediately commanded by Sparrow, Lord of the False League. His lightening strike hit Maya’s negation shield, sending the Reality Warping Goddess spiraling backwards; however the only pain was that of hitting the cavern.

“You fool…do you know what I am!?” Maya screamed, her anger feeding the cosmic foul that seared the fabrics of her once pure soul. As dense golden flames brush off her person, they met with the electrical energies dressing the local setting, causing Maya to take notice.

Friend or foe? Doesn’t matter kill her!

Maya’s eyes glazed over with unsettling darkness, but was soon overpowered again, by the Phoenix Force . Once again, Maya regained control, suppressing the tendril like flares of the Phoenix to avoid hurting her allies.

“We’re not running this time!” She shouted allowing her hands to swirl again with the mystic force before sending her powerful energy plummeting towards the pool itself. As the energy hit the bottom of the pool, Maya’s eyes focused on Shaytan and the new woman. “There’s no time!” Maya’s mirror appeared at the bottom of the illuminated pool relocating the numinous millpond to the Supreme Leagues veiled location. She wasn’t entirely sure they’d receive it all, but they’d receive enough to go forward with Shaytan’s plans.

“Domina, right flank!” one of her injured Cardinals yelled alerting her to the presence of another, the Dark Knight. “There’s a high probability your tricks will not work” Maya spoke, secretly enhancing the possibility that his blood bending attempt would fall short of his desired effects. Not that it mattered, the explosive arrow plowed into the Liafador witch sending her body plowing though the subterranean bedrock. “Hnnn” She grunted. Blood slowly began cascading down her pristine skin, her ornate crimson cowl now bled with the stains of Jerusalem.

“Keep it together” She whispered, as the flames once more flared from her back charring the bedrock into ash. Again she regained control. Moving back into the field of play, The Crimson Sorceress was purposely equidistant from her allies, allowing her to scour the caverns at a moment’s notice to provide supplementary support if need be.

Using the mystic force to pull hanging stalagmites from the cavern roof, Maya launched them at the Dark Knight, in an attempt to gain his attention in her perceived direction. Thinking quickly, the Liafador Goddess teleported behind him and attempted to plow her fist through his chest. If successful, he’d be at the mercy of HER commands.

@naamah_obyzouth: @soulsexodus:@_dark_knight: @eddyemmerich: @maya_liafador: @katraya

Sparrow watched. Watched as the false followers of the Sleeper were cut down. As the Xsoteric dodged a bolt of lightning before it had been fired, and launched forward like a bullet, fist extended. As two of his allies attacked the Dark Knight. He thought.

Step one:

Sub-section: Options.

Option one: Fire at my counterpart again. Result: Failure. He can dodge, perhaps with a sort of precognition, or enhanced vision.

Option two: Strike with a weapon. Result: Failure. Enhanced speed or vision.

Option three: Use Nightbringer to create a darkness, and rescue Sah Ed Valam. Result: Success.

Step two: Deal with the Liafador.

Sub-section: Options.

Option one: Strike with a weapon or use fire/lightning from the rings. Result: Failure. Probability manipulation.

Option two: Quickly defean her with Zero by opening a vacuum that will be quickly filled. Result: Failure. Most of my leaguers will be defeaned as well.

Option three: Psychic attack. Result: Success. If she cannot think straight enough to alter reality, she is powerless.

Step three: Retrieve Nikademus' prize.

Sparrow enacted his plan seamlessly. He leapt over the pit, into the fray, where three leaguers surrounded him, as he shifted his hands similar to the motions of Mason while he was blood bending. A thick shadow was being emitted from one of his rings, and he spread it around the room, obscuring the enemies's vision. He dashed towards his compatriot, the Obsidian Archer, and blasted a burst of fire at the shooting pillars of rock, melting some, but not all of them. He, confident in his fellow Raysh's ability, over on from there, using the low visibility to move nearer to Maya. Another ring glowed, The Liar, and an effect similar to indecipherable whispering would echo in her ears for about forty-five seconds until she would be transported to a world comprised of her inner desires. If she managed to break out of the illusion, she would find that he had disappeared again, to the back of the room. The so-called Supreme Shaytan's target was still out of his reach, with the "Mist of the Gods" behind a wall of staunch Cardinals and assorted other defenders.

@katraya: @_dark_knight: @supreme_shaytan: @soulsexodus: @mourningsparrow:

Entropy. Everything was raw entropy in the cave. Without warning a myriad of powered foes appeared to challenge the small party of Nik, the Sith and Void. Nikademus began some kind of enchantment. The Void was unfamiliar with magic therefore possessed with curiosity. It didn't understand what was going on and curious to find out. In this respect, it was a child-like entity; stopping all activity to understand precisely what it was witnessing. Light appeared beneath its feet, however before the spell would fully activate weapon fire broke Doctor Emmerich's trance.

It lunged to the side onto a nearby stalagmite then instantly to the higher stalactite before the mystery woman finished her weapon fire. Void's claws dug into the cave's roof to provide some leverage for its series of attacks. Concentrating on this female's position, the husk used its immense strength to simultaneously break off the larger stalactites and propel them at his attacker. As the fourth calcium build-up spiraled towards the well-equipped mercenary, Edward's “better” half crushed more stone in its hands. Wielding more disposable ammunition in both hands, Nik's faceless ally moved in that godless way it moved towards the girl. When close enough it lunged towards her; swinging its arms at her and releasing the volley of stones which came at her exactly like dual shotgun blasts from some kind of elephant gun.

That was when things took turn for the worse; a sudden lightning storm exploded in the area combined with explosive arrows and another form of dark magic. The first bolt of lightning was cast aside by the still airborne monstrosity due to its special gloves. The second however, could not be stopped seeing as its speed overwhelmed Void. That blast knocked it down for only seconds. However as it tried to stand up, its muscle movements were removed. It couldn't move. Try as it might. Another barrage of lightning appeared and on an immediate whim, Void's limited energy manipulation constructed ebony tendrils which coiled around its arms to deflect the lightning. At least until everything went dark.

A series of lightning blasts met their mark and broke several bones belonging Doctor Emmerich's husk. The pain was excruciating but not a sound was made. Not a grimace to be seen. Its paralysis finally wore off permitting it to notice a shattered arm. A useless arm that would be of no use at the moment. It wouldn't be able to manipulate energy again on such a scale again for at least a few hours. Void knew the limb would be replaced once it found the Doctor. He would make a prosthetic ergo, the arm was torn off. Muscles separated as tendons and skin ripped from one another. Bone turned to dust beneath the husk's vice-grip. It stared at its arm and tossed it aside into some strange green lake it hadn't noticed before. Likely due to the ditch in which it existed.

Another lightning strike connected directly with the Void's skull. An explosive arrow went off as well and successfully blew the Void into the same goo as its arm. The thing's tattered suit gently sank down. Elegantly, Eddy's corpse sank down into the green abyss mirroring a once majestic ship's sad decent to the deep blue. In the frivolous madness above, this conflict was met with its first casualty.

@black_void: @_dark_knight: @supreme_shaytan: @soulsexodus: @mourningsparrow:

Katraya's eyes widened when the thing started hurling chunks of cave at her and only her speed with her OVK saved her from being pinned beneath rather heavy rock. She fired twice at each of the four calcium deposits thrown her way. The rounds penetrated into the rock and exploded, effectively shattering each impromptu projectile. The broken shards smashed against her armor but otherwise failed to cause harm. The real problem was its follow up attack. She didn't have super speed and was unable to avoid the attack. The strikes lifted her from her feet and sent her flying backward where she smashed into the cave wall.

Katraya groaned, once more happy to have enhanced her durability. Vibranium, simulated or otherwise, was not great at preventing the sort of damage she'd just taken. She moved to get up only to see her opponent blasted apart with lightning. Katraya shifted and forced herself to her feet. Despite the fact she'd not suffered any physical harm thanks to her high tier durability, she'd still suffered the pain of being thrown across the cave and slammed into the wall. It was a strange side effect of her durability gene lock. It would prevent her from suffering harm (to a point) but it tended to only reduce pain rather than negate it. Pain ached through her body.

Someone else got the kill...damn. Oh well. Katraya glanced around quietly at everyone else fighting and smiled a little. The Hyper Mutant once more teleported, this time away from the fighting and up to where the prize was located, the Mists of God everyone had been so eager to get hold of, the pool that had caused all the fighting to this point. With her target neutralized she hoped the others would be too occupied to notice her activities. She holstered her pistol and slung the OVK rifle over her shoulder as she crouched down in front of the pool.

The devout follower of The Tyrant opened a panel in her armor and reached into the actual armor beneath, removing a vial given her for just this task. She closed the panel and opened the vial, intending to dip it into the Mists of God and collect a sample for her one and true master.

@vinicius_corvo: @aoife: @_dark_knight: @soulsexodus: @maya_liafador: @mourningsparrow: @black_void: @katraya: @supreme_shaytan:

Wow, there was a lot of violence taking place in such a small enclosed space. Eufrit thought to herself, as she tried her very best to remain unseen. She had effectively up until this point somehow stayed off of anyone's radar other than Exodus, whom has since then seemed to forget all about her. she smiles at this, its a lovely thing to be underestimated.

She removes the disguise she had been wearing up until this very moment, and tosses the unflattering garments upon the cavern floor. She has had her traditional silk garments on the whole time, they were simply hidden by the bulky wool robes of the farmer. "How can anyone stomach wearing such drivel?" she says in a hushed whisper with a slight hint of disgust, in her honeyed voice.

Then she finds a nice sized rock for seating and she perches herself upon it, Indian style. She can really see everything that is transpiring from this spot rather well. She reaches into her satchel that she always carries, for it contains all of her adventuring affects. She pulls free from its contents, a rather large sack of jagged gravel bits. Then she takes her time, and careful aim. She patiently waits for the right moments to present themselves to her. As her comrades are in battle against their foes, she launches these tiny bits of gravel at the enemy.

With exact precision she launches them to whatever weak points she spots out, which she seems to have knack for. She also waits until these enemies attentions are completely transfixed on more pressing matters, for an example when one of them is blocking an attack of one of her allies. Eufrit the Pirate Queen is laying tiny little painful traps all along the floor, for her enemies feet to find at the most opportune moments. She follows this onslaught of tiny painful booby-traps, with a healthy helping of giggling.

@supreme_shaytan: @naamah_obyzouth: @eddyemmerich: @soulsexodus:@vinicius_corvo: @black_void: @mourningsparrow: @katraya: @aoife: (I pray that I sold these attacks well enough)

The swift, seemingly meticulous convergence of attacks was a threat of the highest caliber. The Dark Knight astutely chose not to linger in one position for too long. Instead, he nimbly maneuvered around the area with the mingled grace and fluidity of flowing water, pausing for a moment as he suddenly detected telekinetic pressure being forced upon his elaborately designed mask. In the instant that it cracked and threatened to carve and crush into his visage, he telekinetically tore it off, narrowly managing to dispel the crushing force just before it cost him his countenance. However, there still remained a few gashes upon his face from Nikademus' attempt.

However, the lapse in motion and diverted attention rendered at the mercy of the masked foe he'd spotted before. Before he knew it, the metal of a spear began to rapidly puncture his the lightly durable material of his uniform, painfully beginning to pierce the flesh beneath. He felt warm blood trickle down his torso - he knew that the threat of impalement and bodily mutilation was imminent. Overhead, stalagmites appeared to mystically detach themselves from the roof of the cave, whistling through the air as they hurtled in the Knight's direction.

But his perception was superhuman, and his movements equally impressive. The injuries sustained from Exodus' spear may have hindered his ability to perform impossible streaks of speed, but just as the spear threatened to truly impale him, Dark Knight pivoted himself to the side, just as the Sparrow's shadows simultaneously permeated the area. Unbeknownst to Mason, however, Maya Liafador had attempted to teleport behind him a split second before his evasion, but unbeknownst to anyone (including Mason himself) this all played in the Knight's favor. For the moment that he moved out of the way (and Sparrow's darkness filled the area), the stalagmites that Maya had launched before would still be hurtling in the direction that Dark Knight was previously located - meaning that, because Maya teleported behind him, she could very well be impaled be her own attack.

@_dark_knight:

“Nice Try!” Maya said flicking her wrist, with such a small motion the force that previously propelled the stalagmites ceased causing them to fall right before her boots. “Kill him!” Maya turned to send another forceful blast at the Dark Knight only to have a spear impale her through the abdomen. “Gah!” The pain, it surge through her body instantly chilling her vessel. Blood ran cloak down her crimson red cowl, hunched over in pain, Maya, began to lose it. The caverns around her, the fabrics of reality, they were no longer woven together. One moment, a beach, the next, a forest, and then a mountain all meshing together; as if space and time converged on one another. “Nikadaemus…I’m losing it” She called out weakly, just managing to pull the collective surrounding back to the caverns.

Fire, dense fire surging from each pore. “What…have you…done?” She whispered into a scream. The moment of explosion, she was gone—perhaps not physically but mentally. “What’s happening…?” She questioned watching as the world around her gradually changes to the palace. “This is a trick” Y hissed, but Maya was heavily embedded. “No…I have transcended time!” Maya replied stalking the hall. Her darkened eyes boiling as she strolled past her family into the nursery.

“What are you doing?” Y continued, only to have Maya’s suffocating silence block her out. “Tassi…” Maya called out, hearing her youngest sister cooing in her crib. “Hello darling…” Maya said offering her little sister her index finger, wagging it playfully to snag her attention.

“How cute you are. It’s too bad…you’ll ruin everything.” Her eyes burned with darkness. “I have to save our family.” Maya’s hands snap around the infant’s neck.” She could hear the garbled attempts at breath, as Tassi’s faced burned a defined plum tinted hue. Maya’s crimson face reflect the purple gaze of her sister; as the infant faded from life, she was sure she’d saved her family.

“MAYA!” Y hissed again. “If you care so much about the present than you do it!” Maya thought literally switching personas.

Tearing the fabrics of reality, The Flower of Carnage emerged “It feels good to be back.” Tactically Y scanned the area, the details of Maya’s transformation rest within Maya’s mind. Maya felt she was still in the fight, when in actuality she reduced herself to a consciousness and forced Y into the mainstream.

“I’ve always wanted to be a reality warping goddess” She teased, using her mind to power the spear from her body. The wound slowly begin to heal, not fast enough for Y; but she damn sure wasn’t about to wait to get in the action.

Her eyes focused in on the Dark Knight. “I’ll show you how it’s done.” Teleporting the distance in between them Y sought to recover from the teleportation with a powerful mystic push (Which is essentially a TK push) followed by using her mind to attempt to light the Dark Knights clothes on fire.

“Let’s see if your d!ck is bigger than my dildo”

@supreme_shaytan: @maya_liafador: @soulsexodus: @mourningsparrow: @black_void: @katraya: @naamah_obyzouth: @_dark_knight: @y_intercept:

As the monster pounded the ground under them, creating and collecting pieces of stone, Vinicius Corvo turned to face it and prepared for the worst. However, the worst did not come from the monster, but from the mouth of the cave overhead, as waves of false league soldiers began to descend towards the unholy alliance. After glancing at his Shaytan to make sure he was fully recovered from the fall, the Darkforce disciple eagerly ran to meet the incoming threat, understanding that this was a significant opportunity to prove his worth to the true League

The SIcilian Slicer lived up to his namesake, tearing through every false league soldier that dare step into his field of vision. As efficient as he was, Corvo knew that the sheer number of fighters, each supernaturally skilled in their own right, would soon overwhelm him. Drawing upon the power of the Darkforce, Vinicius sent a telekinetic torrent out from his body, dispersing the group and even knocking a few of them unconscious with its considerable potency..

As soon as the acolyte of pain finished his attack, his body came under a foreign force that rendered him unable to move. There was nothing the young Aggressor hated more than ceding control. In desperation, the swordsman sent a bolt of dark lightning coursing through his own veins, shocking every blood cell into submission. The pain was immense, but it did the job. The effects of the Ivory-masked knight’s attack began to fade just in time for Vinicius to leap out of the path of the explosive arrow fired from the the enemy's bow.

The false league soldiers sprang forth once more, trying to connect with their rudimentary weaponry of sword, arrow, and lance. The fact that Corvo was the newest member of the true Shaytan’s dark cabal was plainly advantageous to him, for these fools clearly didn't know what they were dealing with.

Corvo stopped his defensive strikes for just a moment, allowing the false followers to close in on him. Timing it perfectly, the Aggressor waited until they were all in position, and once they were, he unleashed a powerful wave of dark lightning all around him. The single bolt dove into one body and then into the next, creating a chain of enlightened, airborne bodies that encircled the Darkforce disciple. Linked by brotherhood these soldiers had entered the holy site, and linked by the burning pain of a million suns their souls would exit.

The scent of seared flesh filled the cave. It was a scent that Corvo had come to love dearly. With his enemies now lying in a heap blackened steak, he focused on yet another enemy, the blonde woman who was currently dipping her vial into a now mostly empty pool. Before he could reach her and unleash his fury, however, he felt a sharp pain shoot up his leg.

It wasn’t the endless army of arrows, nor was it the formidable blood-manipulating mage, but a small, sharp stone, placed perfectly in the bundle of nerves near the arch of his left foot that had caused the dark warrior to topple over in pain.

His eyes furiously turned away from the armored woman and towards another member of the opposing group. On a rock far away from the rest of the action, the dark-haired beauty sat, a girlish smile on her face.

Getting to his feet, the Shadowlander darted toward the seated woman at full force, zigging and zagging to avoid the sudden downpour of stalagmites from the cave ceiling. Once close enough, Corvo thrashed wildly at her with his lightsabers, hoping to connect with her body, knowing that such a connection could split even the most resilient of warriors in half.

“No one mocks the Darkforce, wretched woman!”

@aoife: @mourningsparrow: @naamah_obyzouth: @katraya: @_dark_knight: @y_intercept: @vinicius_corvo:

"Your timing is impeccable."Nikademus irascibly commented glancing out from behind their rocky embankment. Visually observing a mentally projected parade of mathematical possibilities while sub-conscious calculations rapidly highlighted the most favorable outcome. Most who had come with the initiated Shaytan had perished in the entrance. Yet, on full savage display, Shadowland's sabre wielding warrior with no equal to his rage, pressed on. Unbreakable as he surged forward, baptizing himself not only in the crucible of combat, but in the eyes of his surviving brothers in arms as well. Bathed in blood and honored by his idols of galactic worship. Intercepting the Sparrow's machine-gun toting ally as she attempting to salvage what little precious liquid remained. A clever move but one that would require a test of will and fortitude.

But not all of Shadowland's supernatural sultans were fairing as healthily. Sadly, in an apparent forfeiture of the mind, the usurper's attack on the Liafador Legacy had not only cast the reality warping prodigy into a self-caging nightmare, it had inadvertently released the mad madame, Y for Intercept. A carnivorous killer with an insatiable appetite for the dramatically disturbed machinations of a lunatic. A wildcard that not even Nikademus' complex mind could accurately quantify, let alone intuitive predict. Luckily the patch work coalition of unlikely partners had removed the other devilish deviation from the playing field before the Blood Dahlia's arrival. And Maya herself had signed her strategic signature to the battle, maneuvering the mystical pool away and out of the newly risen LoS' reach.

It had seemed like minutes when in reality only seconds had flashed by. Arrows continued to surgically seek out Nikademus and his confederacy. The Shaytan himself now the proud illustration of not one, but three such eagle eyed shots. Shoulder, shoulder, neck. The third and final projectile very nearly ending the wars once and for all had the feral sensory perception of his sister, Aoife, not been there to redirect his head. Narrowly allowing the arrow to graze rather then penetrate. "Can you move? Can you FIGHT?!" he grinned as if getting amp'd, getting excited. "Good, tear that archer apart. I'll deal with his master."

In-spite of the Raysh aL'Shaytan's unleashed tidal wave of blackness, several illuminating attacks launched by his exulted rings easily mapped his movements for Nikademus.

Even with the onyx colored atmosphere lingering throughout the cave, the Initiated were hardly effected. A fraternity of assassins predicated upon the principles of stealth, misdirection, speed, and sabotage lived and died in the blackness, the nothingness, the shadows.

Just as Sparrow had deceptively maneuvered to the back of the room away from Maya, so to did Nikademus maneuver with equally talented elusiveness and graceful speed. The only sound made was that of the Dragon's Fang being freed from its sheath. Its gold soldered clasp breaking open with a metallic reverberation as Nikademus struck with no hesitation. Going straight for the kill shot in an attempt to decapitate Sparrow and claim his head as yet another glorious artifact for his enigmatic collection. Aiming where the bottom of his helmet met the beginning of his armor. That sweet spot right up under the jawline.

@vinicius_corvo: @supreme_shaytan@maya_liafador@soulsexodus@mourningsparrow@black_void@katraya@_dark_knight@y_intercept

The swordsmen who wielded large glow-sticks, came at Eufrit with hatred burning in his eyes. She giggled even harder when she seen him just moments prior to his assault, cripple over in pain from stepping upon one of her jagged bits of gravel. "Boom, chicky, boom, chicky, boom!" She exclaims as he wildly slashes at her with his glow-sticks, she uses her advanced dance moves to avoid being catastrophically murdered, but not without getting some heat-burn to the surface of her body in a few places where it was almost to close. "Behold ye now, the dance of the inebriated were-tiger!" Her eyes were burning like those of a Tigeress in the dark of the cave as she tore off her ornaments, her sandals and her silks and then cast them at Vinicius feet. Raising on her tip-toes, with her arms stretched upward, a quivering line of sun-kissed brown, she cried to the desert wind.

And she danced, like the spin of a desert whirlwind, like the leaping of a quenchless flame, like the urge of creation and the urge of death. Her tiny tan feet spurned the earthen cavern floor and dying men forgot death as they gazed frozen at her. Then she cried-out at the height of the passionate dance. "Pain!" for the jagged gravel bits she used for her booby-traps, were enchanted with strange magics by Inuit Shamans. The reason for the enchantments are to punish thieves, but they serve many reasons now. Once the jagged bits cause pain, the magic is activated. Now only the word pain must be uttered by the casters own lips, and the victim relives the pain yet again, only tenfold. If the victim persists, the word can be uttered yet again, and the pain would be a hundred-times worse than the initial pain felt. The magic involved is powerful, but not permanent for it only lasts for a few hours of its initial activation.

@supreme_shaytan: @aoife: @naamah_obyzouth: @katraya: @_dark_knight: @y_intercept: @vinicius_corvo:

The blade bit into the yielding flesh of Sparrow's neck like a knife through hot butter. He was not decapitated, but instead simply slashed in the jugular vein, causing him to fall to one knee. A surge of heat burst from his hand, cauterizing the wound. The damage was done, however. He should have thought. He should have weighed the options, planned tactically. Instead, his though process was along the lines of "Gargle gargle, I'm bleeding from the neck, gargle gargle." He was clearly in pain, so his lieutenants acted. The nameless monk, master of the winds, moved first, to lift him up behind a line of soldiers. The next was Pestilence. "al'Shaytan, we must act. Should we leave, or continue?"

"Attack..." His voice was stained, and he felt woozy. But the blood flow was slowed, and he stood, resting on one of his allies. Firing a blast of fire as bright as any star, he aimed to clear a path to the pool of mist, only to see-- "No..." It was gone, unless Katraya was successful. "NO! We leave, now." The forces of the SoS and the LoS surged for an exit, planning to convene at a nearby waypoint. The battle was lost.

@maya_liafador: @_dark_knight: @soulsexodus: @black_void: @katraya: @y_intercept: @supreme_shaytan: @naamah_obyzouth:

Though the woman’s careless demeanor was not that of a typical warrior, her graceful movement spoke of an experience and skill that Vinicius had ever encountered. The Sicilian Slicer couldn’t help but pause and take in the view as the giggling lass discarded the rest of her clothes.

“What are you…?” The dark apprentice’s inquiry was suddenly interrupted by a shot of pain, which emanated from where the stone had hit his foot minutes earlier. “Pain,” the witch uttered and pain Vinicius felt, doubling over at the enormous amount of it. Little did his opponent know, however, that it was in pain and suffering that his bond with the Darkforce had been forged.

With the veins in his forehead bulging in an ungodly manner, Vinicius was finally ready to display the full force of his power. With a guttural howl, the Aggressor gripped the very ceiling of the cave with his telekinesis and pulled it down, chunks of heavy stone quickly descending over the area where the dancing woman had been seconds before. Additionally, he gripped the walls of the cave, pulling out huge sections of it in his fury.

As the Shadowland recruit ended his ephemeral rampage, the cave began to vibrate all around the congregated group. The excessive show of force had caused the ancient catacombs to lose all trace of structural integrity. Soon, Corvo knew, the cave would collapse entirely into itself, crushing all who remained within.

With pain still coursing through his veins, and with the false league now looking to be in full retreat mode, the dark disciple looked towards his unholy chieftain, a forced smirk painted on his handsome face. “Shall we make our victorious exit, Shaytan?” the young Aggressor said, confident in the fact that multiple members of the cabal could teleport them out of danger at a moment’s notice.

@supreme_shaytan: @naamah_obyzouth: @eddyemmerich: @soulsexodus:@vinicius_corvo: @black_void:@mourningsparrow: @katraya: @aoife:

The mystical push had dissolved the dexterous Knight's footing, and his form teetered across the ground. Blood had subsequently been smeared across rocky surfaces, and pain routed throughout his torso now more than ever. He staggered to his feet, tensing as flames suddenly erupted upon his adornments. His brain lurched, the primal instinct of survival running its course. His eyes followed his ally forces to the exit just as his vest singed, and clenching his fist, he just barely managed to prevent the fire from utterly overtaking him by chronokinetically reversing its eruption.

"Until next time, Al-Khwarizmi," He spat, not sparing his enemies a glare of disdain before returning his focus to an escape. His frame furled with smoke, his mask lay shattered on the ground. But it mattered not. He hurtled forward, narrowly avoiding debris from the collapsing catacomb. He would vanish amid the midnight clad hordes of allies, intent on following the Sparrow to the desired destination. To regroup, to recover, and to contemplate there next undertaking.

This fight was lost, and the shadow war was over...

Her eyes wince in disappointment, she wanted a fight; but it soon became clear that this battle was coming to a swift end. Maya managed to sober up enough to secure the Mist of God and the false leagues were retreating. “What shall I do with my new found freedom?” She asks as her eyes snap toward Nikadaemus. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you back your “pet” We just have other things to tend too” Y hiss before gradually removing herself from the conflict via teleportation.

In order to keep her place inside the mind of Maya, Y needed to provide a new host for the Phoenix; that person being Valerie Huntington, but before she would do that—there was fun to be had.

@vinicius_corvo: @supreme_shaytan: @naamah_obyzouth: @eddyemmerich: @soulsexodus:@vinicius_corvo: @black_void:@mourningsparrow: @aoife:

Katraya stood as the cavern began to collapse in on itself and capped her vial carefully. She could already feel the effects of her gene-lock abilities begin to wear off and noted that her timer had almost reached the critical ten minute threshold. Sighing Katraya teleported out of the doomed cave system and appeared next to her current employer as he retreated. She smiled and waved the vial at him and then slid it into her armor. The armor took a tiny sample of the already tiny sample and began to scan it for useful information to give to her one and true master. Mourningsparrow would receive his sample and so would her master, though his would be entirely in the form of data. "There wasn't much left I'm afraid."

She licked her dry lips and put her various weapons back in their holsters or on her shoulder. She could feel the cold tendrils of encroaching pain already spreading through her nervous system from some of the more sensitive nerve clusters located in the human body, it was a very uncomfortable experience. Finally her scans completed and she removed the vial from her armor and handed it over to the Al-Shaytan. "Take this. I have to go." She said quickly and teleported away. Miles away she appeared inside of a Typhoon Class Submarine and screamed as she fell to the floor. Medical personnel already on stand by quickly stripped her of her weapons and armor and strapped her to a bed so she couldn't injure herself. The long, agonizing process of the gene locks wearing off had begun.

@aoife: @vinicius_corvo: @_dark_knight: @katraya: @y_intercept:@soulsexodus:

There was a satisfying slick of splattered crimson stains anchored across the back of the wall. A visual certification of Nikademus' successful strike, narrowly ending the shadow-wars once and for all. But demons do not yield so easily and Morning Sparrow had proved to be no exception. His fluent reactionary prowess and keen tactical awareness had allowed for a rapid explosion of illusive momentum, dodging the deadly Shaytan's surgical attack, suffering a serious all but non-life threatening injury in the process. A reminder perhaps, that win or lose, the battle of Raysh's would force them all to leave pieces of themselves behind. No one would get out unscathed.

During the follow through Nikademus had managed to overexert his physical extension, suffering the effects of multiple arrows impeded deep within the muscle and bone protruding from his body as he slouched against the cave for stability. The other Shaytan's strategically withdrawing, the prize gone and chaos ensuing, the risk versus reward was too unbalanced to justify a prolonged engagement.

As the cave began to shake and quiver the Sleeper winced, a surge of intense resolve washing over his strained physique. "NO!" he commanded, attempting to intercept the Darkforce Disciple's destructive expulsion. However Corvo's uncontrolled outburst had already weakened the structural integrity of the cave starting a chain reaction and eventual cave-in. And with one arm completely dismantled, Nikademus was far too weak to sustain enough telekinetic maintenance to hold the cave together, but still he tried.

Firing his good arm forward he collapsed to both knees, fingers contorting with unseen articulation of controlled TK. "We.....are shadows.............anonymity is our.....our greatest assist...." he struggled. Understanding that allowing the Temple Mount to fall into a man mad sink hole of their design would not only expose them, it would instantly paint them all as savage killers no better then the previous assassin based cabals of ill-repute which fell before them. Tactically it would statistically diminish a plethora of prospective possibilities for the future, as well as usher in an unstoppable wave of morally motivated avengers seeking justice. There would be no diplomacy or even do-process. There would be a battle, there would be traitors, and there would be death. The one thing there wouldn't be, justice. For anybody, especially the potential victims should the cave, and by association the Temple Mount above it, be swallowed by the Earth.

"...we.....cant let....it collapse. MAYA! SNAP OUT OF IT!" Calling out in hopes the Liafador Legacy were in control. Together the three of them would be capable of repairing the structural damage, before disappearing into onyx abyss of their namesake. But then;

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you back your “pet” We just have other things to tend too”

"Y!!!!!!!!!!!" the Shaytan raged.

The cavern continued to tremble while up above emergency horns warned off impending danger, police and medical units quickly attempting to clear the packed area of civilians. An impossible task given the location. Again there was a violent shake........the roads briefly showed signs of stress fractures, nothing irreparable, yet......The ground quaked, the cave trembled............the earth shook..........

Sometime Later; Middle East - Parts Unknown.

@mourningsparrow:

Nikademus, full Shadowland regalia encasing his exercised but visually injured physique, left arm bandaged and in a black colored sling hugged closely to his chest, unemotionally surveyed the vast desert ocean before him comfortable seated atop a single humped camel. A gift from a Libyan arms dealer. There was a philosophical disposition resonating off his unemotional resolve as he seemingly waited to be joined, but by what, or whom?

"Thank you for coming alone." he nodded, holding the sheathed Devil's Fang out of the way as he slowly dismounted. Bringing himself before the late arriving leader of the LoS, Mourning Sparrow. "This way." Nodding for the adversarial assassin to follow. Before long the deadly duo once again found themselves navigating subterranean caverns and torch lit labyrinths. Until coming to a large enclosed opening with only one way in, one way out. At the end of the cul-de-sac there stood a throne and atop it, a skeleton gratified with webs and dust. Still adorned in his dated battle attire and even patches of hair.

The Sleeper unveiled his arm as if presenting the fallen warrior as a gift, "Raysh aL'Shaytan, may I introduce you to Ras-Khan al'Shay, the First Shaytan." Removing the Devil's Fang from its decorative sheath and placing it and the feet of the great and mighty Ras, Nikademus then stepped back. "The duty of a Shaytan is no honor my friend, tis a curse. One I would gladly free myself of" silently self-assured that his sister would no longer be plagued by her poor decision to pick up the mantle. "This war will not serve to strengthen the League, in any of its present incarnations and I can not have you interfering in my affairs out of some misplaced sense of vengeance. Shaytan's are not crowned through war, they are anointed by a predecessor. I can think of no greater honor then to kneel before the Khan, and rise as the Raysh." pausing, tucking his good arm behind his back. "We're done here. The war is over" again offering a subtle nod, "Take the sword and be reborn, Raysh al'Shaytan." the Sleeper's words trailing off as he vanished into the labyrinth.

(OOC: Here's the Devil's Fang)

نغ من الشيطان– The Devil's Fang (Blade)

The Devil's Fang is the name of Raysh al Shaytan's ceremonial talwar. Passed down through generations, this curved blade has been gifted to each who has ever held the title Raysh al Shaytan and is as much commemorative as the ring and the throne itself.

The grip of the talwar is cramped and the prominent disc of the pommel presses into the wrist if attempts are made to use it to cut like a conventional sabre. These features result in the hand having a very secure and rather inflexible hold on the weapon, enforcing the use of variations on the very effective draw cut. Like many of its kind, its blade widens toward the tip, increasing the momentum of the distal portion of the blade when it is swung. For this and other reasons, a blow struck by a skilled warrior comes with a practical guarantee that limbs will be amputated or persons decapitated. The Devil's Fang is also spiked at the pommel, allowing it to be used even in extreme close-quarters where the blade may be unavailable - a feature many swords do not have, granting it an additional advantage over many others.

Notably heavy, even more so than the typical talwar, the little-known secret to the Fang's endurance over many generations is that it is forged of true adamantium. Its blade is almost infinitely sharp and virtually indestructible as well. As such, while it is heavier than others of its kind, it is also more effective on a follow-through and carries more danger in a fight. However, because of its differences the Devil's Fang is considered a challenge even for many experienced swordsmen, and as such she could hardly have mastered it in the time since she was inaugurated.

@supreme_shaytan:

Sparrow did not cry. It was not that he was stoic in the face of the blade. It was his eyes, scarred by the rings. His armor thrummed, as he reached for the ancient blade, and he knew, then, what was missing from it. The armor belonging to the first Shaytan had rested beneath a pit of blood, in the monastery. The blade was with Nikademus. And now it was his. The title, the artifacts. He was at last, the one, true leader of the League. he fell to his knees silently, the blade awing him beyond measure.

LoS Monastery.

Sparrow wore not his armor. His fingers were free of the cursed rings. His face felt the breath of air for the first time in years. The only thing that remained of his former appearance was a faint haze around him. Mask or no, the Anonymous Assassin was just that. he stood before a silent crowd, whispers buzzing about. His scars remained, but his sight was intact, and at his side was the blade, prized beyond measure. "My brothers. Behold." He unsheathed is, and slashed a rope, letting a banner behind him unfurl. "The League of Shadows is reborn." A resounding cheer went up.

Victory.