In the shadow-dappled underbrush of Jubaqis, arrows carved through the air with lethal intent, their deadly dance a prelude to an ambush. Merely moments had passed since Godara's previous confrontation, yet here he was, ensnared in another volley of arrows and sword slashes, each maneuver a testament to his adversaries' determination to halt his progress. Yet, for Godara, this was not a struggle but a ballet of precision and agility. His movements—a symphony of disarming sweeps, lethal strikes, and evasions—rendered the assaults of his assailants futile. To the unversed observer, Godara's actions bordered on desperation, but in his eyes, their attacks unfolded with the languid pace of a drifting cloud, allowing him to weave through them with the grace of a leaf on the wind.
The warriors of Jubaqis, unyielding and skilled in their martial prowess, launched their offensive with a blend of aggression and defense. Godara, however, recognized the futility of direct confrontation. His respect for the conservation of time, energy, and the minimization of harm guided his decisions. Thus, he opted for a path of evasion, his movements reminiscent of a spectral wraith as he surged forward with a velocity that rivaled the crack of thunder, plunging into the heart of Jubaqis.
After an hour of relentless pursuit, evasion, and strategic confrontations, Godara's quest led him to the coveted Stone of the Matriarch. Guarded by a mere quintet of warriors in a clearing that seemed a throne to nature's own royalty, the stone beckoned. With the swiftness of a tempest's fury, he subdued the guardians and, with a reverence born of caution, claimed the stone.
In the blink of an eye, he retraced his steps using the speed that rivaled lightning, traversing back to the Th'olan within the lands of Th'ikana. Reducing his velocity, he descended gracefully, transitioning seamlessly into a swim as he neared the shore of the coastal lands connected directly to Avelaide.
Dashing into a nearby store, he moved like an imperceptible gust of wind, swiping a white conical hat and mask. Not a man of solid morals, or lackthereof, Godara justified it as a necessary precaution to avoid detection. The storekeeper, bewildered by the sudden gust, gathered the fallen items and closed shop for the day.
As Godara weaved through people, carts, and even cats, he played a high-speed game of chess, moving with haste through the neighboring lands of Ghergeda, and Zimaque before reaching the realms of Maz'Orun. Seeking refuge in a tavern, he paid for an evening and night's stay, where he secluded himself to examine the Stone of the Matriarch.
As he gazed into the stone's, its nature puzzled him. Unlike the other stones, whose energies could be sensed by him to some degree, this stone remained aloof, its purpose and power a puzzling enigma. With a contemplative sigh, he set the stone aside, immersing himself in meditation, a serene substitute for the embrace of sleep.
Morning's light brought with it whispered tales of an audacious assault on Jubaqis, tales of a spectral monk in white who dared defy the Matriarch herself. As these rumors wove through the tavern's patrons, igniting a flame of curiosity and disbelief, Godara remained a silent observer, his mind a tempest of strategy and anticipation.
The mysterious assailant, described with a mixture of awe and incredulity, had breached the sanctity of the island, challenging the might of the Matriarch herself to claim the storied stone. This brazen act had set the tongues of locals and travelers alike wagging, speculating on the identity and motives of this enigmatic monk dressed in the purity of white.
Godara, ensconced in the shadows, listened intently, his presence unnoticed, a silent observer to the storm of speculation his actions had ignited. In the heart of Maz'Orun, the rumors of his deed had taken on a life of their own, painting him not just as a thief in the night, but as an instigating force at the center of a brewing storm, the implications of which were as yet unfathomable to the greater public.
Amidst the swirling rumors and the shadow of speculation cast by his daring heist, Godara remained an unseen specter within the lands of Maz'Orun. As days bled into nights and the cycle renewed, he wove into the fabric of the city, an anonymous figure performing odd jobs in the bustling streets and quiet alleys. His presence was ephemeral, touching lives in fleeting moments before disappearing once more into the the chaos of Maz'Orun.
Each task, no matter how mundane, served a dual-purpose for Godara. It kept him beneath the radar, a ghost among the populace, while also allowing him to hone his skills, his body and mind ever sharpening like a blade against the whetstone of the tensioned atmosphere. In the spaces between, his training grew ever more intense. No moment for idling, or respite being left for time to consume.
Yet, even as he merged into the rhythms of Maz'Orun, he kept his ears open. His senses, ever attuned to even the slightest whispers of the wind and the softest murmurs of the earth, sought out fragments of lore and snatches of conversation that might lead him to the next heavenly stone of power. Each snippet of information, each rumor caught in the bustling marketplaces or whispered in the shadowed recesses of taverns, was a potential lead to a new potential stone of heaven.
@Jonteman93 - Thank you. That was a brilliant battle, enhanced by the linked song! I'll write how Sara and Gidel will escape Alissa after I've written the chapters of the previous battles, if that's alright.
@Tonysparks - Thanks! I'm glad I got back to writing again.
The stone of immortality, by many considered the most powerful of the true stones of heaven. Some even go so far to call it the fourth celestial stone, even though no one knew the true power of the celestial stones, the power of the immortality stone was well known all. The stories told of incredible heroes, and terrible tyrants whom had all gotten their hands upon the stone, many of whom had once been heroes themselves. kings and leaders had waged war to claim the stone but the keeper of the stone, even by themselves, where rarely if ever defeated. Most often the stone was stolen, and its old master assassinated.
And so the stone exchanged hands covered in blood time and time again. Then the last time the stone's whereabouts where known was when Amir's own grandfather, Bhamun Sahul Salagin, faced the keeper of the stone, Amelon the immortal in combat. After a long battle, Bahamun managed to sever Amelon from the stone. It is not known what happened to the stone after that. Most thought that Bahamun had claimed the stone and kept it hidden, other thought it had fallen into the deep lakes, or been buried in the sands. That is - until now.
Prince Amir, by the help of the dark elemantalist, Lali, had traveled to a distant lonely farm. Amir thought he would face the fight of his life, but all they found was an ordinary mortal man. However Amir felt something incredible disturbing about him. His eyes and voice were like thorns of sharp ice crawling through Amir's veins. Lali felt something similar. The man appeared kind, and he wanted to invite Amir and Lali to his home for some coffee. Amir reluctantly accepted the offer.
Inside the mans house, Amir, Lali and the man sat around a table. Each with a cup of coffee before them. Amir look at the coffee when he heard Lali groan. Amir looked at her and found her seemingly terrified. Lali looked down at the floor.
"-six, seven, eight, nine, ten, ten feet below us."
Amir turned to the man. "What is in the base-..."
"I think you should drink your coffee and then leave us alone." The man interrupted Amir looking at him with wide cold eyes.
Lali summoned a dark elemental whom grabbed the man by his neck, but in her distress she accidentally crushed his neck instead. The man fell lifeless to the floor. Lali gasped. She stood up and walked outside. Amir immediately began searching for a door down. After a short while, he found a stair behind the bookshelf. He pushed the bookshelf aside, and stepped down to a room from where the only light was a single candle.
Sensitivity warning:
Amir stood paralyzed in a small room. Before him was a table with a vase
on it which held the stone of immortality in a small socket. Beside the
vase stood a candle and a bunch of letters. Beside the table was a bed
and on it lied what sounded like a girl. She struggled to even make small wheezing sounds.
Amir's eyesight had darkened and all he saw was a single eye staring
back at him holding more suffering than he had ever imagined possible.
The rest of her face was completely black, not from her skin, but old
coagulated blood. Her body was messed up, and her fingers where broken.
Where her used to be was now only a gaping whole which she must have
clawed out in an attempt to die. But she couldn't. That was the worst
but Amir could not take it anymore.
He grabbed the immortality stone in his hand. He channeled the spirits from the nether into his arm and into the stone. He pushed his own soul almost to breaking point. He cried out as he channeled greater magic than he had ever done before. His arm and the stone began to glow intensively. The stone vibrated in his hand as if it tried to escape. Then with a last wind of effort of Amir, the stone shattered. The room shook and the old walls almost crumbled by the impact. Then followed complete silence. Amir took the candle and threw it on the bed and a fire began to grow. Amir then left the basement and exited the house to where Lali sat and waited.
Amir sat down beside her. "This was not what the stones were supposed to be used for." he said with low voice. "Why did we come here?" he asked Lali in denial. Lali did not say anything as Amir already knew. Somehow he had felt it for a long time. Things that had not made sense earlier now did. The two camped for the night with barely any words spoken between them.
Then the following day. Amir had grown a new purpose from the nightmares he had. Revelations perhaps, but his resolve was stronger than ever, and his resolve would only grow stronger as they traveled closer to Solastir. There Amir would decide to destroy the sunstone.
Prince Amir and Lali came ever closer to Sol Amalia,
the land of Solastir - the forbidden land of the lake of Sol where the
sunstone had once struck the earth.
Amir and Lali spent the night at the ancient city of Evalis which hosted some of the greatest temples to Sol in all the lands. Evalis was also once the seat of the king of Sol as the city of Solastir was the seat for the sunstone and the great priestess. That time was centuries ago, and the once vast empire of Solastir broke apart where the largest piece of land was formed into Evali, while other pieces formed some vassal states of Rasfiri, Yuna and even parts of Karaktus and Lun Arelia.
Amir walked through the old city streets and up into the great temple. Along the walls he found multiple images of the kingdom of Sol, it's priests and priestesses, and the multiple monarchs that had reigned through the ages. Almost every one of the images illustrated the sunstone either as a symbol of the sky or at its rightful place at the peak of the temple of Sol in Solastir. But the very last image illustrated the sunstone in the hands of a man, the only time one of the celestial stones had been shown in the hands of a living being. The walls that followed where empty but Amir felt that they would have shown something.
The following day, the prince returned to the temple once again, but this time the image of the man holding the sunstone was gone - as if it had never been painted in the first place.
Amir and Lali continued their journey north towards Abahn as the southern chore of the lake of Sol was mountains and very dangerous to traverse. They resupplied for the last time before entering the forbidden lands. They ventured west towards the lake and as they reached the top of a hill at the very border to Sol Amalia, they set camp for the night. The following morning Lali approached Amir to tell him good bye. Before departing, Lali handed over a small sealed box. Amir felt a strange power coming from inside the box. Lali told him to open it first when he reached Solastir, then she wished him good bye before summoning her dark elemental horse and riding away.
Amir entered the forbidden land and traveled north around the lake. The following morning he arrived at, Jamil, the only inhabited village in all of Sol Amalia. The village was a small temple community and everyone of the two hundred inhabitants where priests or monks trained in combat to watch over the land and the city. Amir expected to be confronted by the warrior monks as he did not possess a true stone of heaven, but to his surprise they not approach him. They did barely even acknowledge him at all as they continued their daily routines. Amir did not trade as much as a word with the inhabitants and instead he just moved on further.
Two days later Amir came to a wide field. As he crossed through he felt how the energy from the box he received from Lali began to resonate with something. Then the souls from the ether began whispering in Amir's head. Voices grew louder from the ether, and soon he began seeing forms and shadows of people. The shadows grew stronger and before long they revealed themselves as humans, soldiers and warrior priests of Sol Amalia. They where fighting a battle fighting other shadows. Then those shadows gained the form of soldiers as well, soldiers of Lun Arelia. The battle was fierce and desperate. Then he saw a man wielding a stone, a celestial stone. The stone grew intensively bright until a storm of light and flame enveloped Amir's mind.
The image disappeared and Amir found himself back on the field. The souls of the ether as well as the box had fallen silent. Amir continued west while he reflected on what he had seen. Was it an illusion of lies, or was it a memory of the souls that had died there?
The following days, the prince arrived at a mountain pass that lead into a valley up among the mountains with the lake still closely beneath a cliff. That evening Amir came around a corner in the valley as he was met by the incredible sight of the capital city of the sun - Solastir. The city was beautiful and looked almost untouched by time yet no one lived in the city anymore as only statues guarded the gate and the city walls. Amir looked up towards the great temple but at the peak where the sunstone should have been, there was nothing. Amir set camp for the night at an old trade outpost. The day after he would enter Solastir.
The morning sun rose from the lake of Sol between two mountains to the east and spread its golden light upon the land and the city of Solastir.
Prince Amir made his way down he pathway past the trading outpost, an old outskirts barracks and lesser shrines that illustrated the celestial deities - the sun, the moon and the stars. He made his way into the outskirts of the city, the districts of the common folk that once inhabited the now empty city. Moving through the streets he sensed a similarity to Monastir and Stellastir even though no lights where burning and no fountains where pouring. There was a feeling of peace and loss. Amir also felt like it was forbidden, not as by law of the Shambakin, but that the city was forbidden by life itself, or something, as if by entering the city, Amir was sentenced by life itself. But sentenced to what? Death? Torment? Exile?
As Amir moved deeper into the outskirts he came across schools, bathhouses, libraries and even hospitals. Amir had heard stories during his childhood about Solastir being the city of the common folk. Never would he have thought he actually live to it true. Not that Monastir or Stellastir did not have schools and hospitals for the commoners, but Solastir proved it through the architecture and city alone. It further increased Amir's desire to restore the city. Would the Shambakin, Monastir, Lun Arelia even allow it?
After walking for for a long time and reflecting upon the city, Amir made it to the outer walls. The great gates stood open but all along the walls stood statues of warriors. Amir drew his sword expecting them to come alive. With caution he moved through the gates and made it into the middle district. The statues did not come alive. The middle district was the district of soldiers and merchants. The streets where well thought out with great paths leading to the marketplaces from the common districts giving a sense of welcoming. Moving past the marketplaces the architecture changed and became more fortified with very few large roads where most where small and meandered around the houses. The main road that Amir walked on was surrounded on both sides by great towers and fortifications.
Amir then approached the second wall which was even greater than the last, and the statues where larger and more numerous. Amir summoned the ether to animate his swords as he moved into the upper district of priests and nobles. Then nothing happened. Amir knew something was not right, there was a dark force there but he could not understand where. Eyes where watching him, phantoms, from the light yet invisible to him. Or was it the city that deceived him? In the upper district, only one big road remained that lead to the great palace temple. Amir walked on, past an opera, hospital, university, library, theaters and a fortress. Not even the fortress showed ant sign of combat, as if the city had fallen from within but without a fight.
Then he came to the great palace and temple. An incredible building as big as a city. Amir entered into a great hallway with a pair of huge stairs that lead up, and with large doors to all sides. All of them open except one - the one beyond the stairs. Amir started by investigating the door, but as he had predicted they where locked shut. Instead he began searching through the other doors. He looked through the kitchen, the dinner room, the many bedrooms, the garden, the celestial sphere room, the balcony, the altar of the sun, the throne room of the high priest or priestess. The hours passed and night had long since fallen over the city when Amir stopped and made camp in a bedroom just beside the garden where flowers where blooming.
As he packed out his equipment and items he noticed the box he had received from Lali many days earlier. Amir sat down beside the bed inspecting the box which was nothing specular, just a black lead box. He opened the box and a cold feeling flew through him. He realized then that much of the strange feelings he had in the city was actually from the box. The box contained what looked like a small stone wrapped in soft leather. From the upper edge of his vision he saw movement. He looked up. In the garden the bloomed flowers began to crumble and wither. Amir picked up the stone and unwrapped it.
The stone was actually an elemental stone of light, however, it was completely black as if the light had been consumed by darkness. But not normal darkness. Amir felt something beneath the stone. He picked it up with his other hand and revealed a black liquid that had sipped down into his palm from the stone. Amir looked back at the stone and realized that it was all wet with drops of liquid falling from it. Amir put the stone back into its box. He then moved aside his equipment to prepare the bed. But as he touched the sword, the runes on it began to glow faintly, as if it was reacting to the black liquid.
Amir did not think about it much more and instead lied down into the bed.
The following day, Amir continued his search. During the entire morning he searched but did not find anything. He went down the stairs into the great hallway. He stopped. He looked back. The great door that had been closed the day before now stood completely open. Amir drew his sword. He walked through the door and down the stairs. Later Amir found himself in a large room surrounded by pathways. There in the other side of the room stood a pedestal and on it was a hand holding the sunstone. Amir stood with wide open eyes. The holder of the sunstone stood up from his throne.
In the relentless embrace of the desert's fury, where hot winds sculpted the landscape with glass-hot sands, a lone figure trekked with a resolve that seemed to bend the very air around him. This was Godara, whose journey through the unforgiving expanse of the desert was not just a passage through land but a pilgrimage through his own soul. The lands of Avelaide, once foreign and merely a backdrop for his quest for redemption and self-proof, had woven themselves into the fabric of his being, transforming him in ways he had scarcely imagined.
Each gust of wind, each grain of sand that clashed against his form, whispered the tales of the people and the moments that had etched themselves into his heart. The storm-tossed night he became a beacon of hope for a dying man, the perilous journey on a train where lives hung in the balance, the countless faces in Maz'Orun who found solace in his strength, and the old fisherman who had become family. These were not mere memories; they were the threads that stitched together the mosiac that was now his new purpose.
Art 1 - Die Gerechtigkeiy by Lucas Kranach, Art 2 - by John Rife in Artstation, and Art 3 - train art from Freepik (no artist listed)
As the sun painted the sky with strokes of sharp crimson and warm gold, casting shadows that danced like specters of a forgotten kingdom, Godara's contemplation deepened. The desert, with its harsh beauty and relentless challenge, mirrored his own transformation. No longer was his heart set on the monastery of his past or the title of Blazing Foot Master. Avelaide had become his home, his sanctuary, and its people, his kin.
But beneath the tranquility of the desert's sunset, a storm brewed—a storm of a different kind. Avelaide, his home, cried out, besieged by shadows that sought to devour its light. Godara knew his journey was far from over; it had merely found a new horizon. The resolve that had once propelled him to seek strength and recognition now anchored him to a more nobler cause— to protect Avelaide, to stand as its guardian against the encroaching destruction he sensed.
In the solitude of a canyon cave, as a scorpion kept silent vigil and the chill of the desert night wrapped around him, Godara faced the relics of his past battles. The stones of storm and mist, symbols of his victories and his power, now served a greater purpose. They were not just tools of battle but keys to safeguarding the future of Avelaide. The stone of the matriarch, mysterious and dormant, lay beside him, a reminder of the unseen forces that shaped the destiny of nations.
The Sun Stone, whispered in legends and cradled in the heart of Solastir, called to him. It was not a beacon of power to be wielded but a guardian to be protected. The once-great empire of Solastir, now fractured and diminished, held the key to Avelaide's salvation or its downfall. Godara's path was clear; he must secure the Sun Stone, not for dominion but for preservation.
As he ventured forth, past the city of Solastir. Its ancient beauty and palpable sorrow, became both a battlefield and a sanctuary. The energy that pulsed through its streets, a blend of desolation and hidden vigor, guided him toward the heart of the mystery. Reaching the city of Jamil futher up North, the warrior monks of Jamil, with their shared discipline and unspoken understanding, became allies in his quest. In their wisdom and their silence, Godara found the strength to continue.
Art by Nele-Diel on DeviantArt
The journey back to the city of Solastir, which he had previously passed due to not knowing it was the place he sought, was not just a physical return but a reaffirmation of his commitment. The city, with its secrets and scars, was a mirror to Godara's own soul—resilient, enduring, and eternally hopeful. The presence that had shadowed him, distant yet familiar, was not just an observer but a reflection of the interconnectedness of all things. In every step, every breath, Godara was not alone. He was a part of Avelaide, and Avelaide was a part of him.
The quest for the Sun Stone, fraught with danger and shadowed by rivals, was more than a mission; it was a testament to Godara's transformation. From a seeker of personal glory to a guardian of a land that had given him refuge and purpose, he had found his true calling. In the heart of Solastir, amidst the ruins of a once-great empire and the whispers of a dawning future, Godara stood ready. Ready to protect, to fight, and if necessary, to sacrifice. For Avelaide, for the people who had become his home, and for the legacy of hope that would outlive them all.
[What...] (We did not go to throw back that spear, not consciously.) {Perhaps it was a vestige our vessel's programming? The will of the stones?} (No matter, for we must move on. The titan awaits.) Seven turned away from Tzhubala and continued the search for the titan. An overcast sky darkened the barren landscape, air filled with the rings and blasts of war. Following the landmarks of the Kolgo giants, the spirits of Seven search for their new quarry.
It wasn't long before they found him - amid bouts of cannonfire and clash of steel, one giant stood unfazed among the crowds. Seven watched as the giant caught a cannonball out of the air and hurled it back whence it came, as if the action were trivial. The telltale glow that emanated from his necklace confirmed the suspicion - the yellow and grey stone of the titan. (First, to remove the interfering ones.)
Taking in energy from the Heart of Iron, Seven began a sprint. While drawing from the stone, Seven began harvesting energy from the nearby battle; swings, shots, force, fire; the shield absorbed all. The purpose now was to create disarray - move the greater battle away from here. Systematically moving around the nearby fronts, Seven struck down enough warriors from each side to cause confusion. While this manipulation was a slow process as troops were redistributed, the interference around the titan was greatly reduced. [Reduced is not enough. We must remove them all.] {This will attract the titan's attention.} [That will be of no matter once it's just us and that one.]
With a burst of speed, Seven ran through the remaining surrounding soldiers, a conscious and efficient train of war.
(Defen-) The titan's glaive stabbed towards Seven at impossible speed, landing a glancing blow on the edge of the Shield and clipping Seven's shoulder plating. {Attention achieved.} [Take him down. There's minimal interference.] Seven went this time to charge the giant, diving directly for the ankle to bring the entire warrior down. Reaching incredible speed, Seven slammed shield-first into the giant -
Not a scratch. Surprisingly agile for a large creature, the titan shifted stance and swung the glaive across, making to slice the metal stone seeker in two. Just in time, they'd dodged, but a follow-up stab was quick to follow. {This one does not make things easy.] Seven reacted in time, stopping the stab dead with the Kinetic Shield. (We end this one's weapon.) Channelling the energy into a punch, Seven went to slam the Forge Stone into the metal of the titan's glaive. Again, the giant was too fast - he'd already pulled the glaive back and spun it around to arc towards his challenger once more.
[Channelling energy through the stone is too slow.] Seven again stepped back, narrowly dodging the sharp tip of the Titan's swing. {Not necessarily. We've done it quickly only a few minutes ago.} (Perhaps it requires a different tech- Seven began to weave out of the way of a flurry of blows launched by the titan, each one packed with enough force to pierce the thickest of armour. (We must let will take over once more. Trust in it and let go of our control.) Another stab clipped Seven's head plating. [Give up control? We'll be destroyed.] It was then that time seemed to run slow as the spirits as one saw the opening they needed, a slight overextension from a stab with the glaive. ({[THERE.]}) A will took over as Seven began to channel vast energy into vibrating the Forge Stone. The movement the stone made was tiny, but its speed was great. Seven touched the stone to the glaive.
Immediately, the metal in the titan's spear became blue and crystalline. But this was not molten metal, and the energy supplied to the sharp tip was great. The brittle spear shattered, leaving the titan the remnants of pole.
Seven again made for the titan, making to sprint directly for their adversary's necklace. But the titan wasn't done yet. A fist came crashing down, slamming Seven into the ground. (Again.) Seven quickly jumped back up to their feet and channelled energy into jumping for the stone. They were quickly snatched out of the sky and hurled back down to earth, a titanic kick following. Seven managed to shield it - [Again.] - and began to run up the giant's leg, again making directly for the necklace. A well-aimed punch later and they were sent hurtling back to the cracked and dry ground once more. ({[AGAIN.]}) Seven drew energy from the Iron Heart to parry the next flurry of blows, and used the energy for another direct leap. Again the iron challenger jumped and again the titan made to take them out of the sky. Seven was ready this time. Propelling themselves off of the incoming hand, Seven made another burst for the stone. Fast as lightning, Seven carried their momentum directly into the Forge Stone and through the titan's armour and necklace.
A shattering shockwave tore through the metal as the molecular bonds tore asunder, leaving the Stone of Heaven dropping in free fall. Snatching it out of the air, Seven immediately made to escape the battlefield, leaving the titan to continue his chosen fight - without his original weapons or armour, that is.
They knew where to go next - Pascal had mentioned, if briefly, the legend of the Solastir Sunstone. Even if not real or exaggerated, this was the greatest lead on power Seven had got, and stopping to consider anything but forward movement was not in their nature. It was this nature that led them to their last finding with the Stone of the Titan.
(This stone's use is to toughen our body to physical blows.) [Seems useful enough. Even at high speeds, landing a blow on that one seemed impossible.] {Say we toughen our vessel against the ground. The strength granted by the stone could cause us to move at a greater pace.} As Seven continued their sprint to Solastir, they began to practice focusing the strength granted by the Stone of the Titan. With greater force applied to the ground, Seven again began their acceleration. Their top speed hadn't been reached yet, and it was the Sunstone that would unlock their full potential. Their purpose.
I'd like to briefly explain the slightly alien mechanics behind my new cards for Seven. They're based on the ruling behind what happens when you cast an extra combat card on your opponent's turn - say, with Quicken and Relentless Assault. It's worded specifically that there is a combat phase after this one, but not necessarily yours. In other words, if you cast Relentless Assault on your opponent's turn, they are the one that gets the additional combat.
This means one of the intended synergies with We'll Take You All On and Seven is that you can force your opponent into multiple combat phases where they must attack you.
The red light of a raging inferno lay its touch across sand and water in the dark of night.
Jamil stands ablaze.
The black dragon Kamurik swipes his mighty tail through house and wall, striking many monks into the rubble. The dragon is grounded by mighty magic of the monks. Two monks dashes forward in unison with blade and spear in hand. A third monk unleashes a green arrow at the rider. The arrow bounces on her armor before it is set ablaze as it falls beside Alissa's burning blade. Alissa strikes down with her burning blade causing a storm of flame before her. The following moment one of the approaching monks descends upon her with blade in hands. Alissa swings her blade towards the monk as she moves backwards. At that moment, the other monk appears from beneath the flaming storm with spear steady in hand.
Flame falls over the houses as Kamurik spits fire at the monk archer. Alissa already moving forward cannot dodge the spear of the attacking monk. Instead as the blade buries into his comrade, she lets go with one hand. With her free hand she slashes with her sharp glove at the monk. The spear finds it mark at Alissas waist but it only slightly pierces her armor. The monk with his eyes clawed out by Alissa, falls to the side. But he find his spear, grabs it, and thrusts it once again at Alissa. But now Alissa managed to move out of the way. She stomps with her full weight at the monk leg, breaking it. The monk groans as he falls to the ground.
Kamurik rams through a set of buildings making them into burning rubble. Soon that is what almost the entire village will be. Yet them monk remain vigilant in their purpose to not let anyone near Solastir who is not meant to go there. Alissa not being given a single opportunity to escape continues fighting the remaining monks. Not until the first light of dawn breaks through does the fighting cease. Most of the monks are dead and the rest are wounded or have fallen into the water drifting away.
Alissa having made certain that the fighting is over can finally remove her armor and begin treating her wounds. While she treats the cut wound at her waist she notices beside a burning building the blind monk whom had caused the wound. He half sits half lies down in a position of meditation mumbling words in a language unknown to Alissa. She thinks for a moment before she stands up and walks to the monk. She wraps a bandage around his eyes and helps him up on his legs. Alissa leads him away from the burning village towards the water. There she leaves him. She told him that the war would soon be over as she would claim the sunstone, but no language she spoke did the monk respond to. Perhaps he did not listen to her, perhaps could he understand her meaning but not her words.
Alissa left the monk and returned to Kamurik who was occupied devouring the monks who had died in the battle. Alissa and Kamurik left Jamil without rest. Alissa felt too similar to the monks to be at ease. They might be at war but these monks did only attack her to protect something. She did not regret killing the monks but it was the first time in the war when her heart was empty from any feelings of hatred.
They flew towards Solastir. Alissa would claim the sunstone, and with it force the Shambakin to kneel, all of Asolamun to kneel. Vengeance fulfilled. There would be peace at last.
Due to request I am prolonging starting the final fight(s) until Wednesday.
So make sure your hero have reached the gates of Solastir, or wherever you feel is a good location to stop. From Wednesday you will be tasked to write a section of your final fight. (if you want to).
The deadline will be mostly up to you (within reasonable limitations) so you could take some time then to also fill in other story segment before the conclusion.
@Jonteman93 if you don't mind, might I ask when this draconic battle takes place in the context of Amir's arrivial, and maybe mine (if after). Pls dm, appreciate it!
@Tonysparks Amir is the first to appear in Solastir.
Beyond that I have not had a particular order in mind. So it is up to you if you when you want to arrive. The same is true for Sara whatever Alissa is still pursuing her or not. (Though she either failed or chose to not take back the stone of the lost legion since the monks tried to prevent her entrance towards Solastir).
Over a week they traveled, Sara and Gidel, until they reached human civilization: A port city next to a great river, which connects a northern sea to the southern ocean. They arrived late in the evening, and stayed at a quiet inn 'til morning. First thing they did was to look for a ship heading to the land where the stones of heaven lie. Gidel managed to track down a captain overlooking a loading of her ship: A middle-aged human woman with long blue coat, cuffed leather boots, and a wide leather hat decorated with white feathers. Her tanned and scarred face cracked a warm smile as Gidel approached her, greeting him as "Avner."
Sara listened from the wagon as they chatted. "Avner" had saved the Captain from brigands almost two decades ago when she was a young lass, and he had been a neighbourly acquaintance to her homestead family back in the wilds through the long years. After a moment of catching up, "Avner" politely asked the Captain if she would allow him and Sara to voyage with her ship to the southwestern land where its headed. The Captain laughs heartily and agrees, happy for a chance to pay back a favor.
After the ship's cargo was loaded from the docks, Gidel's many crates were quickly loaded from the wagon as well. He then sold his mule and wagon to a local stable before climbing aboard "The Wyrmward" with Sara and her dove. White sails rolled open and the ship sailed forth into the sparkling ocean horizon.
Art: Philipp A. Urlich
* * * * * *
Clack! Clack! As the ship creaked and waves splashed, sound of sticks hitting each other could be heard. The human sailors who were not busy checking ropes, cleaning floors, or gazing at the deep-blue horizon, would sometimes watch two elves practice with wooden swords on the deck.
"Don't overswing it," Gidel said in elvish. "Thou art wide open, should thou miss."
Clack! Sara pressed on, desperate to land a single hit on Gidel. He was wearing his old grey gambeson and hosen, moving barefeet on the deck like a cat. On contrast, Sara had her tailor-made traveling attire, crafted specifically to a princess like herself, yet she couldn't keep up with Gidel. His shoulder wound hadn't healed completely yet, but it didn't slow his movements at all.
With a shout, Sara lunged a thrust at Gidel, who didn't parry it that time, but stepped to the side instead. Sara tripped on her own feet and fell on all fours.
"Remember what I've told thee," Gidel said and gestured with his hand to "rise up," and so Sara did. A drop of sweat trickled from her forehead and she breathed heavily, while Gidel stood still like a fox. His stick leaned on his uninjured shoulder as part of his stance. "Keep thy movement tight. Thou wield the sword, it does not wield thee."
Sara assumed Gidel's stance: Stick leaned against shoulder, knees bent, and both hands gripped the hilt. She moved in to strike. Clack! Gidel parried Sara's stick downward and positioned his wooden sword's "blade" before her throat. She gasped and froze still.
"Again."
The first days of the voyage went similarly. Sara's emotions fueled her fighting spirit, but she couldn't control it for long, causing her to overdo it. On a rainy day, she clashed her stick at Gidel's, keeping up with the blocks and parries for two seconds, which to her felt like a minute, until one strike too many sent her stick flying. Clack! Sara backed up with unsteady legs and fell on her back, then her stick landed loudly many meters behind her.
"Keep thy emotions in check," Gidel said patiently. "Thou lose focus otherwise."
"I've had my feelings in control at home," Sara said in a frustrated tone as she went to pick her stick. "At court, ceremonies, feasts, and speeches." She swung her stick to her side and took a high stance. "But merely thinking of my uncle... sipping wine as his slavers ruin more elven lives..." Her boots stomped on wet planks as she charged at Gidel. "... sets my blood ablaze!"
A slash. Clack! Thrust. Clack! Then Sara spun and swung with all her strength. Clack!! Gidel blocked, parried, and with a half-swording hold, stopped Sara's third attack. On that moment, he twisted his stick, controlling Sara's stick by forcing it to a disadvantageous position, then grabbed her wrist with one hand and pointed his stick at her face with other hand. They both stood completely still for couple of seconds, raindrops trickling from their wooden swords.
"Let the fire control thee, and thou will burn to cinders," Gidel said, staring deep into Sara's wide-open eyes. "Think only of the opponent before thee, and focus thy fire to them alone. Thou will never climb back to the throne if thou do not take the steps leading to it."
Gidel let go of Sara's wrist and took a few steps back before assuming a stance again. Sara took a deep breath, waited in her stance until her hands stopped shaking, then lunged at Gidel once more.
Since that day, Sara worked on one combat step at a time: Footing, blocking, parrying, dodging, different counters linked to defensive maneuvers, and techniques to strike past opponent's guard.
"Trahaernan martial styles had been passed in my House for generations afore its abolishment," Gidel's words reminded Sara before each training session. He had only spoken them once during their first session, but Sara remembered them clearly. "As our elder used to put it, my ancestor, the founder of the House, was blessed by a Godlike spirit when he led a campaign to liberate a holy land from creatures of darkness. Already a recognized fighter, he developed styles specifically to combat monsters. The blessing allowed him to realize unprecedented battle tactics of his time to bring down towering beasts and to control surrounding enemies. Like him, thou will learn when to bend like a blade of grass in the wind... and when to stand firm to cut thy opponents."
Clack! Sunset's orange rays sparkled on the waves as Sara and Gidel sparred. He dodged her slash and moved in for a counter, which she deflected. The wooden swords clacked on as the student kept the master's attacks at bay for six seconds until he eventually broke through and poked her shoulder with his stick.
"Still a long way to go," Gidel said and put his stick aside. "... but the warrior's tree within thee had begun to grow."
Sara wiped sweat from her forehead and bowed quickly and deeply. "Thank you, Master!" Gidel nodded, took Sara's stick, and walked to the Captain's cabin, marking the end of the day's training.
They had sailed for three weeks. Sara was sitting on a barrel next to the deck's railing, watching the golden sunset. A rustle of feathers turned her attention to her lap, where the white dove was sitting. Sara gently unwrapped the bandage around its wing, and inspected it carefully, pressed the bones with her fingers, and smiled.
"Land ahoy!" A sailor shouted from the crow's nest in common tongue. Sara's ears twitched, then many other sailors hurried to railings and looked at the ship's destination: They could see a tiny shadowy speck growing in the horizon, right beneath the setting sun.
"There it is," Sara said to the dove in elvish. "Asolamun... The land touched by heaven, sparking hellish wars. And within the flames lie my keys back to the throne and to the safety of Lohtoreth." She placed her palms under the dove and raised it to her eye level. "Would thou think me selfish? For coming all this way to steal treasures of a foreign land to fuel my own desires? Am I doing this for the elves, or just to be a queen, adored by all?"
The dove blinked as it silently looked at Sara, who sighed deeply. "For... I don't know myself..."
Sound of Gidel's marching steps approached Sara, and she slid off the barrel. "At dawn, the ship will dock at a port city called Ikaro, where we must prepare quickly and leave at the earliest convenience," Gidel said. "Thou better rest until then."
"Yes, Master," Sara said, still holding the dove in her hands. Gidel glanced at its healthy wing, nodded, then turned to walk back to the Captain's cabin. Sara looked at the horizon again: The sun had swallowed the land of Asolamun, and the night's veil spread in the sky until the last ray of sunlight quietly vanished.
Next morning, the ship had dropped its anchor at Ikaro's port, and the sailors were unloading the cargo. As Gidel was on his way to get a new wagon, Sara stood at the ship's deck again, looking at palm trees and peculiar architecture of sandstone buildings.
"I will not force thee to come with us," she said to the dove on her palm and stroked its head one last time. "Fly back north and stay safe, pretty one."
Sara reached her hands over the railing, and the dove flapped its wings a few times before it jumped off. It took a dive to the docks below, spread its wings, and glided quickly past Gidel, who stopped walking. He and Sara both watched as the white dove flew magnificently into the bright sky. Salty sea breeze waved Sara's red hair, and she smiled, even though her worries made it difficult.
Silver moon shone brightly in a sea of glittering stars above a vast desert. Its light reflected from a mirror surface of an oasis, where a shadow of a stork stood still on one leg. Countless water lily flowers and pads floated in the water, and tall palm trees stood at the water's edge, along with other green plants. Night's insects chirped under leaves, and the cool air had a refreshing sweet aroma.
Art: Ryan Bliss
A humanoid being sat on its knees near the water. White wings spread wide from its back, each feather shining with the moon. Its armor was partly stained by ash and blood. Long red hair covered half of its face, and tears trickled down its pale cheeks.
"What am I?" the being whispered to itself with a young woman's voice in elven tongue, reminding her of someone called "Sara." Her blue eyes didn't look at the moon, or the distant stork, or at the water, as if she could not see the world before her. Sara shut her eyes tightly and grit her teeth in pain as she held her head with left hand. She tried to remember, but the harder she did, the more it hurt. A scream, and she fell on all fours, white wings stretching towards the blue night sky. She crawled towards the water until she could see her reflection.
"What have I... become?" Sara asked herself as her wide-open eyes stared at the two wings behind her. The unfamiliar weight and strange feeling in her body made her gasp when she moved them like any other muscle.
"Am I... dead? Have I... failed?"
Teardrops fell upon the mirror surface, distorting her reflection. Sara attempted to hug herself, and realized she was holding something with her right hand: A combat mask of silvery metal with bronze leaf-like trimming.
"Master Gidel!" Sara exclaimed and stood up, splashing the water. She looked around, but didn't see him or any familiar glow of campfire anywhere. Holding the mask with both hands, Sara looked at it once more. As she blinked repeatedly, she saw three memories: Gidel riding on his camel, falling off with a bleeding injury on his side, and chains in his hands.
"Oh, Gidel..." Sara whispered, closed her wet eyes, and hugged the mask tightly. More memories appeared in her mind: Elite elven warriors of the King, and leading them, a blonde elf with grim look on his copper face, carrying a long silver spear, and wearing a light armor of blackened steel with sharp trimming. Sara furrowed her brows from discomfort as she kept her eyes closed.
Then she saw an elven lord in a luxurious armor with night-blue trimming and sparkling saphires surrounded by silver leaves. And a silver crown with elaborate twisted vine patterns decorated his head of long black hair. He sat upon a throne of roots, crossed his legs, and when his blue eyes locked into Sara's, his pale face smirked devilishly. She furrowed her brows even more, grit her teeth, and opened her eyes, which were filled with strong desire for vengeance.
"Wait for me, Gidel..." Sara whispered as she looked at the silver moon, then put the mask into her satchel.
When she turned to walk to the shore, she saw a yellow gemstone faintly glowing in the sand. She picked it up, and a memory of a shrieking human lady in fine opera dress flashed in her mind. Few steps ahead, a light-blue gem was glowing, and upon picking it, Sara briefly saw a towering titan looming before her. Third gem further ahead had a purple glow, and as she touched it, ranks of undead spread around her, and a black dragon flew above. Its red-haired rider fiercely stared into Sara's eyes. As she blinked, they all disappeared.
"I won't let anyone stop me now," Sara swore and marched on until she saw a curved longsword sticking out of the sand, and a tiara of faded gold lied near its blade. Gripping the sword's hilt, numerous techniques flowed back into her mind. Sara sheathed it to a scabbard hanging from her belt, then she knelt down next to the tiara, picked it slowly with both hands, and saw her home: The palace, banners of the royal family hanging in its great halls, and from a balcony she could see a vast city below, and its sea of pyramid roofs.
"The stars I hold had fallen from the sky," Sara said and wiped tears from her face, then placed the tiara on her head. "And with the Sunstone, I will bring down the King from the throne of Lohtoreth." The horizon grew brighter as dawn was approaching. "For I am Saramintha, killer of tyrants!"
Sara spread her wings and flew high into the sky until the blinding light of morning sun kissed her. Her face beaming with determination, Sara glided to the west, where Solastir and the Sunstone awaited.
Dawn has arrived. The sun is rising on the day when the claim to the sunstone will be decided by five stone hunters who have made it to Solastir.
The light of the sun is spreading through the streets of Solastir. Benches of wood, lamps of iron, houses of stone, windows of glass, carpets of wool, fountains of marble. The sun's touch brings warmth to it all slowly eating away what little is left of the darkness of night.
A quake shakes the very foundation of the city. The next moment, an explosion of flame and metal obliterates a nearby gate. Through the flames appears a robot with incredible speed. Seven does not get time to move before the cloud of flame is pushed aside as the black dragon Kamurik descends through to cover the robot once again in bright red fire and ash. Seven run against a building and then jumps towards the dragon so that the windows shatter. Alissa with blade in hand meet the approaching Seven as metal clashes against metal with an echo that spreads through the city.
The echo bounces between the buildings through the streets until it meet, like in a dance of violence, the echo of thunder and lightning.
Another bolt of ravaging thunder spread its blinding light from further up the streets. An angelic figure with red hair flies swift yet elegantly through the streets and beneath bridges to avoid the bolts of lightning that chases her. As the lightning strike and rips into the bridge, Sara is quick to turn around and take a detour through a valley. The master of the lightning arrives on top of the buildings seeking around. Then suddenly he feel the wind changes behind him. He just manages to dodge the approaching blade of Sara as she ascend from the valley.
Godara dashes through the air with Sara following. Godara lands at an intersection of streets. Then once again he feel the air change, but this time it is not Sara whom is still approaching him. A wall nearby is blown to smithereens as Seven breaks through. Godara, whom is in Seven's way, dodges to the side and unleashes a storm of lightning at the robot. Seven crashes into a fountain blowing up dust and water.
As Seven stands up he sees only Sara before him. He takes pursue and dashes straight at her but Sara dodges out of the way. Seven grabs a stone and hurls it at Sara who almost loses her balance dodging it. Sara flies away towards the nearby garden where she hopefully can outmaneuver the robot whom takes chase. The robot being faster than anticipated, Sara flies further beyond towards the palace and through the main door, straight through the corridor and down the stairs on the other side.
Alissa and Kamurik drowns the garden in fire and ash as they pursue the lightning monk. Godara releases bolts of lightning at his pursuer but the dragon's scales are tough. Godara runs on into the palace, through the corridor and down the stairs beyond the door at the other end as the dragon approaches behind.
Godara makes it down and into a room with a peculiar warm and bright light. As he enters the room he sees Seven and Sara but hey have ceased their fight. Behind them stands the prince known as Amir. All three barely noticing Godara's entrance as they watch towards the light at the other side of the room. The brilliant light comes from what can not be anything but the sunstone itself. Behind Godara Alissa enters the room now dismounted. She stops sudden as she sees the stone and he whom carries it.
Bahamun Sahul Salagin, the name of the legendary warrior whom disappeared long ago. The same man who's disappearance forced the kingdoms to build the iron horse to fight off the lost legion. The only man whom had faced the titan of Kolgo, and won. The only man, not even the Sambakhin, whom the matriarch of Jubaqis did not dare to deceive. - and all that with no stone of heaven claimed, at least what is known. Now he sits on a throne of cold stone in a cellar of a abandoned city with the very sun in the palm of his hand. His eyes are dark. His body almost motionless. He is as distant a man as the sun in heaven.
Alissa would the first to step forward. She would claim the stone the stone before anyone else got the chance. With blade in hand she approached the man. Flames began to rise from the blade growing in size and heat. She raise it above her head. The man remained unchanged. Alissa struck down at him. The blade stopped still towards the spear of the man. The man had moved in the blink of an eye. Not an inch was given, not a flinch to the flames that fell over him. His eyes remained stoic staring into the nothingness.
Burning blood fell from Alissa's blade. The flames grew stronger and hotter. She withdrew her blade and struck at him once again. His spear blocked the impact once more. Not an inch given. A cloud of wet fire fell upon him, grabbing onto his Armour. Once more and twice, Alissa struck at him with him deflecting the blows. Fire now burned all over him. Yet still he did not give an inch holding his spear against Alissa's blade. Then the flames that covered him began to move and change form. Alissa took a step back. The burning man followed, but the man stayed unchanged. A spirit of fire took form. The avatar of Flame.
During this, Godara saw his chance. He dashed forward with incredible speed. He approached the stone in the hand of the man. As he reached to grab it, the man shining rose out from his own and grabbed Godara's. Godara released a storm of lightning from his other hand at the man. The room trembled by the force and incredible light. Godara once again reached for the stone, and yet again a shining hand blocked his attempt. Godara took a step back. The man shining bright followed him, but the man stood unchanged. A spirit of light took from. The avatar of Light.
Godara dashed away from from the spirit, but as he reached the other side of the wall the avatar of light was already there. The spirit struck at Godara who just managed to dodge out of the way. At this moment, Seven had dashed towards the sunstone, but as he was about to grab it, the avatar of light was already at him. With one strike it blew Seven so he flew into and through a nearby wall down into a corridor beneath. A bolt of lightning flew at the spirit. The spirit barely phased through the bolt and in the next moment came onto Godara. With it's radiant shield it struck Godara so he flew back. Godara quickly rose up and dashed through a door down into the corridors beneath. The avatar of light followed.
Alissa struck with all intensity she could muster at the avatar of flame creating a storm of fire where it stood. The spirit struck back with its own burning spear, and the fiery storm it caused dwarfed that of Alissa's own. The flame even spread towards Sara who had tried an attempt to approach and claim the sunstone. Sara ascended as the flame approached her, but another storm of flame approached directly at her as the spirit struck again. Alissa now attacked the back of the spirit, but a surge of flame blew out from the spirit's shield towards her face forcing her to withdraw her attack. Realizing that she could not beat this burning foe alone, Allisa turned around and ran back up the stairs towards Kamurik. Sara being alone against the Avatar of flame, as Amir did not take any action, saw no chance to claim victory. So she followed Alissa up the stairs and out the streets where her flight could hopefully help her claim victory. The Avatar of Flame followed.
We have finally reached the fights that you will write. In these fights your hereos will not be able to claim victory alone but must cooperate to defeat these avatars.
@Tonysparks & @AxNoodle; Godara and Seven have been forced down into the lower levels of the palace and now you must together defeat the Avatar of Light and make it back to assist Amir against Bahamun who is about to reawaken. You may decided between each other who begins and who ends the writing.
@TenebrisNemo; Sara and Alissa have escaped into the streets where they must fight together to extinguish the Avatar of flame, and make it back to Amir and Bahamun. You may write all parts of the fight but I will add a little story if you ask. I won't decide the ending to the fight however.
These fights will be completely written by you three. Thus you are in complete control until the moment the characters are back for the final encounter against Bahamun awoken where the winner of the tournament and who will claim the sunstone will finally be decided.
The deadline to submit the stories is generally up to you now but to have a date of some sorts I dedicate the 17th of Mars as a soft kind of deadline.
This is also the last chance you have to add any additional stories and cards. So if you have not presented all your cards yet make sure to do so.
The final fight will begin when you have defeated the two avatars and declared your submissions complete. (If the communication is running cold for more than a week however then we'll run with the 17'th of Mars)
There is no set limit to how much you may write nor any methods that you use to claim victory.
You may of course use the other character in your writing (in the same manner as I do since otherwise the contest would be impossible) but make sure that the conclusion is agreed upon between you.
I will not write anything in these fights unless I am specifically asked to do so.
We have gone more than a week now without any activity. I want to remind you that 17th of Mars is the deadline if no activity to the fight (or story in general) has been accomplished in a week's time.
The soft deadline is done so that everyone has the time they need to write whatever they want for the fight, backstory and other. It's not for procrastination, even though that is most often the outcome. Just a friendly reminder.
I am eager to continue the fight and finally reach a conclusion to this tournament. Good luck stone hunters!
Sara disembarked from "The Wyrmward" and finally set her feet on the land of Asolamun: At the harbor of the port city Ikaro. Gazing at the unfamiliar world all around her, Sara began to understand why travellers had called it "the land of sand, sun, and water."
Art: Boris Courdesses
Tall sandstone buildings of different shades of beige spread as far as her elven eyes could see, half of them crowned by shining dome roofs. Nearly every street corner had a fountain: Some humble ones where people could fill their waterskins or dry mouths, and some splendid ones with marble statues depicting heroes and monsters of local myths and legends.
Sara approached one fountain in particular which caught her eye. On a pedestal in the middle of its pool stood a tall figure of a human warrior, carrying a golden spear and a golden shield in a soldierly manner. His traveling clothes had golden reinforcements, pauldrons, and a helmet with a single spike on top, wrapped in coif. The helmet shadowed his eyes and upper face; only his sharp cheekbones and spiky goatee were visible. A beheaded giant's body laid under his foot, and the water which flowed from its throat and trickled from the spear's blade sparkled brilliantly under the morning sun.
A whistle from the street. Sara turned her head and saw Gidel sitting on a new wagon, pulled by a grey donkey. He beckoned, Sara hurried over, and climbed on a seat next to him. Gidel flicked the reins and the donkey slowly pulled the wagon through the streets, which were not as crowded as Sara would have expected at that time of the day.
"Most are at the market district near the city's entrance," Gidel said as he saw the look on Sara's eyes. "We purchase what we need for travel there, but first I'll sell these things so we have some coin to begin with." He nodded at the crates on the wagon, which Gidel and Sara had brought with them all the way from Gidel's home. She remembers asking him about their contents at the start of their journey, to which Gidel had only replied "materials."
Sara expected Gidel to ride to the market, but instead he took a turn to even quieter streets with dirty walls, cracked tiles, and broken fountains. The few raggedy people they saw quickly fled into shadowy alleys or turned to walk to the opposite direction.
Before Sara could ask Gidel where he was going, he pulled the reins and stopped the donkey in front of an old shop. Behind its cracked display window, dozens of bottles with brightly colored contents stood in rows. On a wide blue cloth laid rings, bracelets, and other jewelry with cryptic letters engraved upon them. There were also couple of open scrolls and pages torn from spellbooks which Sara could not read, and believed even if she could, they would crumble on the spot.
"Offer thy hands," Gidel said and jumped next to the wagon's crates. "and help me lift these inside." He gave Sara one of the smaller boxes. As she was bringing it, she noticed an elderly human woman standing in the doorway. Her skin was dark and wrinkly, and her hair gray like ash. She wore dark robes, wooden necklaces and bracelets, and her bony face had eerie face paint: Red forehead, black eye sockets, white spots lining the eye sockets, and white vertical lines on her forehead, chin, and lips of a toothless smile.
The woman cackled, stepped aside from the doorway, and beckoned with her slender finger. Sara couldn't move her legs: The strangeness of the situation overwhelmed her. The hair on her neck began to stand up until someone bumped into her from behind.
"Be polite!" Gidel whispered to Sara in elvish, carrying a large crate behind her. Sara, able to move again, carried her box in the middle of the shop's floor. The air inside felt cold and had a faint smell of gunpowder. The woman eyed Sara up and down with her dark brown eyes, and Sara smiled awkwardly as she passed her and lifted another box from the wagon.
Crack! Sound of wooden planks pulled apart came from inside the store. Sara stopped at the doorway and watched as Gidel opened one of the boxes with a crowbar. The old woman was pleased to see what the elves had brought her, so much so that she dug her fingers into the wheat-filled box herself and pulled out a glass jar full of monstrous eyeballs. A wave of chill spread within Sara's body, causing her to shiver.
We've been carrying body parts this whole time?! Sara thought and looked at the closed box she was carrying, large enough to contain a severed head or two. Feeling sick, Sara wanted to drop the box, but her frozen fingers didn't obey her.
"Stop idling!" Gidel said as he saw Sara standing still again, then opened the other crate. Crack! "There are many boxes left on the wagon." Sara took a deep breath, fixed her posture, and brought her second box into the store while keeping her gaze on her feet to avoid looking into Gidel's newly opened crate. Like a golem, she delivered the rest of the crates one by one, ignoring the surrounding world that was the unpleasant shop.
Is this how the servants feel back at home? To carry out a task ordered by their lords and ladies, no matter how repulsive, and somehow complete it without a word or a pause? How can anyone be so selfless? I am a King's daughter, rightful heir to the throne! I shouldn't waste my time and energy on mindless labor. I'm fated to much greater duties...
When the last crate was delivered, the old woman gave Gidel six leather pouches. He opened one, took out shining gold coins, and counted them as he dropped them back inside one by one in such speed that Sara lost count. Gidel put the pouches into his backpack without opening the rest, confident by their weight and jingle that they had the promised sum. After thanking the woman with a deep bow, Gidel rode the empty wagon out of the alley. Sara pulled her green hood tighter around her head, forcing herself to look forward as she felt the woman's gaze behind her, even when they were halfway through the city.
"They were trophies from monsters which had plagued the wilds during my decades there," Gidel said when he glanced at Sara, tense as a pulled bowstring. "The only people with any interest of buying them off from me are witches, wizards, and alchemists. There would have been potential buyers back in the wilds, but they wouldn't have paid as handsomely as the locals here. Such materials are difficult to obtain around here after all."
"I know," Sara said as she leaned back and stretched her arms towards the sky, trying to relax. "And it was a clever plan. We need all the coins we can get."
Gidel glanced at Sara again. "Thou seem shaken."
"What?" Sara asked with a cracked voice and pointed at herself in faked surprise. "Me? Because of the creepy old hag or the monsters you've cut apart and carried around with us? Ha! As if something as mundane would stir my nerves! The stories I've read under starless nights would laugh if the pages were alive!"
Sara chuckled as she watched the road, her fingers trembling as they squeezed her crossed arms. Gidel clapped her shoulder, startling her. His eyes narrowed and a corner of his mouth tensed from slight amusement. Sara frowned her mouth and furrowed her brows and turned her face away to hide her blush.
@AxNoodle No rush to you, but I might just make an entry soon of what we have gone through if the 9th arrives. My break is ending soon, and I like taking care of stuff as soon as possible.
You can retcon our dialogue at the end at your own lesiure in your version of the entry though
Godara dodged the being of light’s attack by a mere gap, as the being floated towards him with speed unlike he was used to encountering constantly. In just a few moments within getting into the Solastir, surviving the outside skirmish, and making it to the chambers, not only had he just encountered a being that could almost, if not actually mirror his speed, but he had encountered two of them, a realization that hit slightly irked even his usually impassive demeanor, but not as much as not having the Sunstone within safe hands.
Immediately, a train of sheer unfiltered steel, boomed through him, as Seven, one of the figures of impressive speed, rushed to claim the stone where he perceived vulnerability. In almost an instant, the figure of light surged forward, intercepting the sizable being of steel, before delivering a strike that, while blocked by their shield, launched Seven through multiple wall-like structures before landing the metallic being in a corridor beneath the structure.
Godara, almost immediately, brandished his monk's sword, the stone of storms embedded within it. Lightning arced from his fingers, through his body, and through the sword, as he unleashed a burst of lightning that snaked and withered towards the spirit, before harmlessly phasing through. Before Godara knew it (or rather as he knew it), the spirit closed distance and reached Godara. With its radiant shield it struck at the monk, sending him flying.
In the few seconds that Godara transitioned through the air, the world seemed slow, from the side of his glance he gazed at the draconic warrior, and the angelic elf, as they fought a hard battle against the spirit that they had been occupied with, one of fire. Then in a sudden realization, he tucked, flipped, and tumbled. Mitigating and controlling the damage of the fall.
Godara quickly rose up and dashed through a door down into the corridors beneath, where the being of steel had fallen, as the avatar of light followed suit.
Thump walls crumbled, and pillars shattered, as Seven’s charges were met with stern returns from the radiating spirit. Every single dash made, was met with the unrelenting defense of the spirit’s shield. Godara, charged in, lightning arcing from his blade, only to have his strike also countered, equally as fast, and to graze death as he almost received what would surely amount to a lethal strike for most people. Godara attempted another strike, but it was blocked, as he received a retaliatory kick that sent him sliding backwards.
The battle continued for what felt like twenty minutes to the pair, but in actuality was much shorter, due to both Seven and Godara moving at such unimaginably high speeds. They alternated between attacking and receiving hits in an ungainly manner, neither attempting communication. This incoherence only served to prolong the battle.
Then, Godara noticed something. The face, or lack of one, on the mechanical figure took on a red-hot glow. Grasping what must have been a stone of heaven, Godara watched Seven charge with impressive speed. A shockwave expanded from the metal warrior as it slammed into the spirit, causing it to stagger for a solitary moment.
That solitary moment was all Godara needed; in a singular, split second motion, the monk flashed toward and slashed at the spirit with his sword. The spirit managed to catch only a glancing blow as it phased through the sword, grabbed Seven’s shield, and used its momentum to toss the metal assailant at Godara.
Godara managed to block at the last minute, and was sent sliding backwards, before stopping short of crashing through a wall. Getting winded in the process. The spirit began approaching Godara without second thought, as Godara, without thought pulled out the Stone of the Matriarch, at least what he thought it was, and thrust it forward. But then…nothing.
Right when the strike was about to meet Godara clink. Before him Seven stood, blocking the attack yet again. Almost immediately Seven glanced back, and Godara looked at it. And what seemed like a temporary truce was formed without words, or facial expressions for that matter in the case of Seven.
Godara twisted forward, going around Seven, lightning blazing from his feet, as he delivered a powerful kick, sending the spirit back a few inches. Within those short few inches, Seven dashed again without hesitation, pushing the spirit even further, and forcing it to block again. And as if with clear understanding Godara moved even faster than prior before delivering a powerful blow that pushed the spirit even further than before.
The dance continued on, as Godara and Seven moved together like a well oiled machine. Godara became the sword, and Seven became the shield in this battle of speed, as they menaced and disorientated the spirit. Trails of friction, turned to magma, and trails of static turned to lightning, as Godara and Seven charged forward, getting faster and faster as if competing with each other as much as working together.
They zipped and zapped around the spirit, as it was forced toward the center of the coordinated assault, never giving it breath between their attacks, as they attacked as the other evaded, and evaded when the other attacked. Then in a moment of hyper-charged speed and kinetic energy, Seven dashed forward, leaving trails of lava in the now hot ground, their body glowing red hot.
The air screamed as the metal shieldbearer tore through the air, channelling the power of both the Stone of Titan and the Iron Heart. Seven delivered a ravaging blow towards the spirit, launching it back through the air and through a couple more columns within the area. But before it could even begin to attempt a descent, Godara had reached the other side.
With a slight buckle, and utilizing the stone of mists to create multiple mist-like illusions of himself, he hurled himself and all his copies from all angles. Each of them wielding a sword, or rather an illusion of a sword. The Spirit attempted to turn mid air to block, even when being launched backwards at such great speeds, but then the illusions burst, obscuring the entire surrounding air in mist.
From there the real Godara charged through, cleaving the Spirit in half - as the momentum from Seven’s hit, and the counter momentum from Godara’s powerful lunge, slashed the spirit in two, causing it to fragment in a burst of radiant light.
(Don't judge my editing /(T_T)-)
[ Image by DC comics, editted by me (@Tonysparks) with pixlr ]
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Chapter Nine - The Stone of the Matriach?
In the shadow-dappled underbrush of Jubaqis, arrows carved through the air with lethal intent, their deadly dance a prelude to an ambush. Merely moments had passed since Godara's previous confrontation, yet here he was, ensnared in another volley of arrows and sword slashes, each maneuver a testament to his adversaries' determination to halt his progress. Yet, for Godara, this was not a struggle but a ballet of precision and agility. His movements—a symphony of disarming sweeps, lethal strikes, and evasions—rendered the assaults of his assailants futile. To the unversed observer, Godara's actions bordered on desperation, but in his eyes, their attacks unfolded with the languid pace of a drifting cloud, allowing him to weave through them with the grace of a leaf on the wind.
The warriors of Jubaqis, unyielding and skilled in their martial prowess, launched their offensive with a blend of aggression and defense. Godara, however, recognized the futility of direct confrontation. His respect for the conservation of time, energy, and the minimization of harm guided his decisions. Thus, he opted for a path of evasion, his movements reminiscent of a spectral wraith as he surged forward with a velocity that rivaled the crack of thunder, plunging into the heart of Jubaqis.
After an hour of relentless pursuit, evasion, and strategic confrontations, Godara's quest led him to the coveted Stone of the Matriarch. Guarded by a mere quintet of warriors in a clearing that seemed a throne to nature's own royalty, the stone beckoned. With the swiftness of a tempest's fury, he subdued the guardians and, with a reverence born of caution, claimed the stone.
In the blink of an eye, he retraced his steps using the speed that rivaled lightning, traversing back to the Th'olan within the lands of Th'ikana. Reducing his velocity, he descended gracefully, transitioning seamlessly into a swim as he neared the shore of the coastal lands connected directly to Avelaide.
Dashing into a nearby store, he moved like an imperceptible gust of wind, swiping a white conical hat and mask. Not a man of solid morals, or lackthereof, Godara justified it as a necessary precaution to avoid detection. The storekeeper, bewildered by the sudden gust, gathered the fallen items and closed shop for the day.
As Godara weaved through people, carts, and even cats, he played a high-speed game of chess, moving with haste through the neighboring lands of Ghergeda, and Zimaque before reaching the realms of Maz'Orun. Seeking refuge in a tavern, he paid for an evening and night's stay, where he secluded himself to examine the Stone of the Matriarch.
As he gazed into the stone's, its nature puzzled him. Unlike the other stones, whose energies could be sensed by him to some degree, this stone remained aloof, its purpose and power a puzzling enigma. With a contemplative sigh, he set the stone aside, immersing himself in meditation, a serene substitute for the embrace of sleep.
Morning's light brought with it whispered tales of an audacious assault on Jubaqis, tales of a spectral monk in white who dared defy the Matriarch herself. As these rumors wove through the tavern's patrons, igniting a flame of curiosity and disbelief, Godara remained a silent observer, his mind a tempest of strategy and anticipation.
The mysterious assailant, described with a mixture of awe and incredulity, had breached the sanctity of the island, challenging the might of the Matriarch herself to claim the storied stone. This brazen act had set the tongues of locals and travelers alike wagging, speculating on the identity and motives of this enigmatic monk dressed in the purity of white.
Godara, ensconced in the shadows, listened intently, his presence unnoticed, a silent observer to the storm of speculation his actions had ignited. In the heart of Maz'Orun, the rumors of his deed had taken on a life of their own, painting him not just as a thief in the night, but as an instigating force at the center of a brewing storm, the implications of which were as yet unfathomable to the greater public.
Amidst the swirling rumors and the shadow of speculation cast by his daring heist, Godara remained an unseen specter within the lands of Maz'Orun. As days bled into nights and the cycle renewed, he wove into the fabric of the city, an anonymous figure performing odd jobs in the bustling streets and quiet alleys. His presence was ephemeral, touching lives in fleeting moments before disappearing once more into the the chaos of Maz'Orun.
Each task, no matter how mundane, served a dual-purpose for Godara. It kept him beneath the radar, a ghost among the populace, while also allowing him to hone his skills, his body and mind ever sharpening like a blade against the whetstone of the tensioned atmosphere. In the spaces between, his training grew ever more intense. No moment for idling, or respite being left for time to consume.
Yet, even as he merged into the rhythms of Maz'Orun, he kept his ears open. His senses, ever attuned to even the slightest whispers of the wind and the softest murmurs of the earth, sought out fragments of lore and snatches of conversation that might lead him to the next heavenly stone of power. Each snippet of information, each rumor caught in the bustling marketplaces or whispered in the shadowed recesses of taverns, was a potential lead to a new potential stone of heaven.
https://mtgcardsmith.com/view/godara-forked-assailant?list=set&set=70604
https://mtgcardsmith.com/view/godaras-sprint?list=set&set=70604
https://mtgcardsmith.com/view/mind-fry?list=set&set=70604
@Tonysparks - Thanks! I'm glad I got back to writing again.
There your final fight and challenge awaits.
This being the final fight, You will be given the opportunity to write a part of it just as in earlier tournaments.
Good luck stone hunters!
Chapter Ten - Godara of Avelaide
Art by Noah Bradley
In the relentless embrace of the desert's fury, where hot winds sculpted the landscape with glass-hot sands, a lone figure trekked with a resolve that seemed to bend the very air around him. This was Godara, whose journey through the unforgiving expanse of the desert was not just a passage through land but a pilgrimage through his own soul. The lands of Avelaide, once foreign and merely a backdrop for his quest for redemption and self-proof, had woven themselves into the fabric of his being, transforming him in ways he had scarcely imagined.
Each gust of wind, each grain of sand that clashed against his form, whispered the tales of the people and the moments that had etched themselves into his heart. The storm-tossed night he became a beacon of hope for a dying man, the perilous journey on a train where lives hung in the balance, the countless faces in Maz'Orun who found solace in his strength, and the old fisherman who had become family. These were not mere memories; they were the threads that stitched together the mosiac that was now his new purpose.
Art 1 - Die Gerechtigkeiy by Lucas Kranach, Art 2 - by John Rife in Artstation, and Art 3 - train art from Freepik (no artist listed)
As the sun painted the sky with strokes of sharp crimson and warm gold, casting shadows that danced like specters of a forgotten kingdom, Godara's contemplation deepened. The desert, with its harsh beauty and relentless challenge, mirrored his own transformation. No longer was his heart set on the monastery of his past or the title of Blazing Foot Master. Avelaide had become his home, his sanctuary, and its people, his kin.
But beneath the tranquility of the desert's sunset, a storm brewed—a storm of a different kind. Avelaide, his home, cried out, besieged by shadows that sought to devour its light. Godara knew his journey was far from over; it had merely found a new horizon. The resolve that had once propelled him to seek strength and recognition now anchored him to a more nobler cause— to protect Avelaide, to stand as its guardian against the encroaching destruction he sensed.
In the solitude of a canyon cave, as a scorpion kept silent vigil and the chill of the desert night wrapped around him, Godara faced the relics of his past battles. The stones of storm and mist, symbols of his victories and his power, now served a greater purpose. They were not just tools of battle but keys to safeguarding the future of Avelaide. The stone of the matriarch, mysterious and dormant, lay beside him, a reminder of the unseen forces that shaped the destiny of nations.
The Sun Stone, whispered in legends and cradled in the heart of Solastir, called to him. It was not a beacon of power to be wielded but a guardian to be protected. The once-great empire of Solastir, now fractured and diminished, held the key to Avelaide's salvation or its downfall. Godara's path was clear; he must secure the Sun Stone, not for dominion but for preservation.
As he ventured forth, past the city of Solastir. Its ancient beauty and palpable sorrow, became both a battlefield and a sanctuary. The energy that pulsed through its streets, a blend of desolation and hidden vigor, guided him toward the heart of the mystery. Reaching the city of Jamil futher up North, the warrior monks of Jamil, with their shared discipline and unspoken understanding, became allies in his quest. In their wisdom and their silence, Godara found the strength to continue.
Art by Nele-Diel on DeviantArt
The journey back to the city of Solastir, which he had previously passed due to not knowing it was the place he sought, was not just a physical return but a reaffirmation of his commitment. The city, with its secrets and scars, was a mirror to Godara's own soul—resilient, enduring, and eternally hopeful. The presence that had shadowed him, distant yet familiar, was not just an observer but a reflection of the interconnectedness of all things. In every step, every breath, Godara was not alone. He was a part of Avelaide, and Avelaide was a part of him.
The quest for the Sun Stone, fraught with danger and shadowed by rivals, was more than a mission; it was a testament to Godara's transformation. From a seeker of personal glory to a guardian of a land that had given him refuge and purpose, he had found his true calling. In the heart of Solastir, amidst the ruins of a once-great empire and the whispers of a dawning future, Godara stood ready. Ready to protect, to fight, and if necessary, to sacrifice. For Avelaide, for the people who had become his home, and for the legacy of hope that would outlive them all.
(We did not go to throw back that spear, not consciously.)
{Perhaps it was a vestige our vessel's programming? The will of the stones?}
(No matter, for we must move on. The titan awaits.)
Seven turned away from Tzhubala and continued the search for the titan. An overcast sky darkened the barren landscape, air filled with the rings and blasts of war. Following the landmarks of the Kolgo giants, the spirits of Seven search for their new quarry.
It wasn't long before they found him - amid bouts of cannonfire and clash of steel, one giant stood unfazed among the crowds. Seven watched as the giant caught a cannonball out of the air and hurled it back whence it came, as if the action were trivial. The telltale glow that emanated from his necklace confirmed the suspicion - the yellow and grey stone of the titan.
(First, to remove the interfering ones.)
Taking in energy from the Heart of Iron, Seven began a sprint. While drawing from the stone, Seven began harvesting energy from the nearby battle; swings, shots, force, fire; the shield absorbed all. The purpose now was to create disarray - move the greater battle away from here.
Systematically moving around the nearby fronts, Seven struck down enough warriors from each side to cause confusion. While this manipulation was a slow process as troops were redistributed, the interference around the titan was greatly reduced.
[Reduced is not enough. We must remove them all.]
{This will attract the titan's attention.}
[That will be of no matter once it's just us and that one.]
The titan's glaive stabbed towards Seven at impossible speed, landing a glancing blow on the edge of the Shield and clipping Seven's shoulder plating.
{Attention achieved.}
[Take him down. There's minimal interference.]
Seven went this time to charge the giant, diving directly for the ankle to bring the entire warrior down. Reaching incredible speed, Seven slammed shield-first into the giant -
Not a scratch. Surprisingly agile for a large creature, the titan shifted stance and swung the glaive across, making to slice the metal stone seeker in two. Just in time, they'd dodged, but a follow-up stab was quick to follow.
{This one does not make things easy.]
Seven reacted in time, stopping the stab dead with the Kinetic Shield.
(We end this one's weapon.)
Channelling the energy into a punch, Seven went to slam the Forge Stone into the metal of the titan's glaive. Again, the giant was too fast - he'd already pulled the glaive back and spun it around to arc towards his challenger once more.
[Channelling energy through the stone is too slow.]
Seven again stepped back, narrowly dodging the sharp tip of the Titan's swing.
{Not necessarily. We've done it quickly only a few minutes ago.}
(Perhaps it requires a different tech-
Seven began to weave out of the way of a flurry of blows launched by the titan, each one packed with enough force to pierce the thickest of armour.
(We must let will take over once more. Trust in it and let go of our control.)
Another stab clipped Seven's head plating.
[Give up control? We'll be destroyed.]
It was then that time seemed to run slow as the spirits as one saw the opening they needed, a slight overextension from a stab with the glaive.
({[THERE.]})
A will took over as Seven began to channel vast energy into vibrating the Forge Stone. The movement the stone made was tiny, but its speed was great. Seven touched the stone to the glaive.
Immediately, the metal in the titan's spear became blue and crystalline. But this was not molten metal, and the energy supplied to the sharp tip was great. The brittle spear shattered, leaving the titan the remnants of pole.
Seven again made for the titan, making to sprint directly for their adversary's necklace. But the titan wasn't done yet. A fist came crashing down, slamming Seven into the ground.
(Again.)
Seven quickly jumped back up to their feet and channelled energy into jumping for the stone. They were quickly snatched out of the sky and hurled back down to earth, a titanic kick following. Seven managed to shield it -
[Again.]
- and began to run up the giant's leg, again making directly for the necklace. A well-aimed punch later and they were sent hurtling back to the cracked and dry ground once more.
({[AGAIN.]})
Seven drew energy from the Iron Heart to parry the next flurry of blows, and used the energy for another direct leap. Again the iron challenger jumped and again the titan made to take them out of the sky. Seven was ready this time.
Propelling themselves off of the incoming hand, Seven made another burst for the stone. Fast as lightning, Seven carried their momentum directly into the Forge Stone and through the titan's armour and necklace.
A shattering shockwave tore through the metal as the molecular bonds tore asunder, leaving the Stone of Heaven dropping in free fall. Snatching it out of the air, Seven immediately made to escape the battlefield, leaving the titan to continue his chosen fight - without his original weapons or armour, that is.
They knew where to go next - Pascal had mentioned, if briefly, the legend of the Solastir Sunstone. Even if not real or exaggerated, this was the greatest lead on power Seven had got, and stopping to consider anything but forward movement was not in their nature. It was this nature that led them to their last finding with the Stone of the Titan.
(This stone's use is to toughen our body to physical blows.)
[Seems useful enough. Even at high speeds, landing a blow on that one seemed impossible.]
{Say we toughen our vessel against the ground. The strength granted by the stone could cause us to move at a greater pace.}
As Seven continued their sprint to Solastir, they began to practice focusing the strength granted by the Stone of the Titan. With greater force applied to the ground, Seven again began their acceleration. Their top speed hadn't been reached yet, and it was the Sunstone that would unlock their full potential.
Their purpose.
It's worded specifically that there is a combat phase after this one, but not necessarily yours. In other words, if you cast Relentless Assault on your opponent's turn, they are the one that gets the additional combat.
This means one of the intended synergies with We'll Take You All On and Seven is that you can force your opponent into multiple combat phases where they must attack you.
Due to request I am prolonging starting the final fight(s) until Wednesday.
So make sure your hero have reached the gates of Solastir, or wherever you feel is a good location to stop. From Wednesday you will be tasked to write a section of your final fight. (if you want to).
Amir is the first to appear in Solastir.
Beyond that I have not had a particular order in mind.
So it is up to you if you when you want to arrive.
The same is true for Sara whatever Alissa is still pursuing her or not. (Though she either failed or chose to not take back the stone of the lost legion since the monks tried to prevent her entrance towards Solastir).
The Land Touched by Heaven
* * * * * *
Oasis of Broken Memories
Art: Ryan Bliss
Battle for the sunstone
Part 1
VS
Battle for the sunstone
The man with the sun in his hand
Battle for the sunstone
The avatar of Light and Flame
Fight of Light
VS
Fight of Flame
VS
I will not write anything in these fights unless I am specifically asked to do so.
Happy fight'n!
I want to remind you that 17th of Mars is the deadline if no activity to the fight (or story in general) has been accomplished in a week's time.
The soft deadline is done so that everyone has the time they need to write whatever they want for the fight, backstory and other.
It's not for procrastination, even though that is most often the outcome.
Just a friendly reminder.
I am eager to continue the fight and finally reach a conclusion to this tournament.
Good luck stone hunters!
Threshold - Part I
Art: Boris Courdesses
No worries, guys.
It's just a friendly reminder so that we don't run the risk of it being forgotten
You can retcon our dialogue at the end at your own lesiure in your version of the entry though
Cheers mate!
Chapter Eleven - Godara and the Machine
Godara dodged the being of light’s attack by a mere gap, as the being floated towards him with speed unlike he was used to encountering constantly. In just a few moments within getting into the Solastir, surviving the outside skirmish, and making it to the chambers, not only had he just encountered a being that could almost, if not actually mirror his speed, but he had encountered two of them, a realization that hit slightly irked even his usually impassive demeanor, but not as much as not having the Sunstone within safe hands.
Immediately, a train of sheer unfiltered steel, boomed through him, as Seven, one of the figures of impressive speed, rushed to claim the stone where he perceived vulnerability. In almost an instant, the figure of light surged forward, intercepting the sizable being of steel, before delivering a strike that, while blocked by their shield, launched Seven through multiple wall-like structures before landing the metallic being in a corridor beneath the structure.
Godara, almost immediately, brandished his monk's sword, the stone of storms embedded within it. Lightning arced from his fingers, through his body, and through the sword, as he unleashed a burst of lightning that snaked and withered towards the spirit, before harmlessly phasing through. Before Godara knew it (or rather as he knew it), the spirit closed distance and reached Godara. With its radiant shield it struck at the monk, sending him flying.
In the few seconds that Godara transitioned through the air, the world seemed slow, from the side of his glance he gazed at the draconic warrior, and the angelic elf, as they fought a hard battle against the spirit that they had been occupied with, one of fire. Then in a sudden realization, he tucked, flipped, and tumbled. Mitigating and controlling the damage of the fall.
Godara quickly rose up and dashed through a door down into the corridors beneath, where the being of steel had fallen, as the avatar of light followed suit.
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Thump walls crumbled, and pillars shattered, as Seven’s charges were met with stern returns from the radiating spirit. Every single dash made, was met with the unrelenting defense of the spirit’s shield. Godara, charged in, lightning arcing from his blade, only to have his strike also countered, equally as fast, and to graze death as he almost received what would surely amount to a lethal strike for most people. Godara attempted another strike, but it was blocked, as he received a retaliatory kick that sent him sliding backwards.
The battle continued for what felt like twenty minutes to the pair, but in actuality was much shorter, due to both Seven and Godara moving at such unimaginably high speeds. They alternated between attacking and receiving hits in an ungainly manner, neither attempting communication. This incoherence only served to prolong the battle.
Then, Godara noticed something. The face, or lack of one, on the mechanical figure took on a red-hot glow. Grasping what must have been a stone of heaven, Godara watched Seven charge with impressive speed. A shockwave expanded from the metal warrior as it slammed into the spirit, causing it to stagger for a solitary moment.
That solitary moment was all Godara needed; in a singular, split second motion, the monk flashed toward and slashed at the spirit with his sword. The spirit managed to catch only a glancing blow as it phased through the sword, grabbed Seven’s shield, and used its momentum to toss the metal assailant at Godara.
Godara managed to block at the last minute, and was sent sliding backwards, before stopping short of crashing through a wall. Getting winded in the process. The spirit began approaching Godara without second thought, as Godara, without thought pulled out the Stone of the Matriarch, at least what he thought it was, and thrust it forward. But then…nothing.
Right when the strike was about to meet Godara clink. Before him Seven stood, blocking the attack yet again. Almost immediately Seven glanced back, and Godara looked at it. And what seemed like a temporary truce was formed without words, or facial expressions for that matter in the case of Seven.
Godara twisted forward, going around Seven, lightning blazing from his feet, as he delivered a powerful kick, sending the spirit back a few inches. Within those short few inches, Seven dashed again without hesitation, pushing the spirit even further, and forcing it to block again. And as if with clear understanding Godara moved even faster than prior before delivering a powerful blow that pushed the spirit even further than before.
The dance continued on, as Godara and Seven moved together like a well oiled machine. Godara became the sword, and Seven became the shield in this battle of speed, as they menaced and disorientated the spirit. Trails of friction, turned to magma, and trails of static turned to lightning, as Godara and Seven charged forward, getting faster and faster as if competing with each other as much as working together.
They zipped and zapped around the spirit, as it was forced toward the center of the coordinated assault, never giving it breath between their attacks, as they attacked as the other evaded, and evaded when the other attacked. Then in a moment of hyper-charged speed and kinetic energy, Seven dashed forward, leaving trails of lava in the now hot ground, their body glowing red hot.
The air screamed as the metal shieldbearer tore through the air, channelling the power of both the Stone of Titan and the Iron Heart. Seven delivered a ravaging blow towards the spirit, launching it back through the air and through a couple more columns within the area. But before it could even begin to attempt a descent, Godara had reached the other side.
With a slight buckle, and utilizing the stone of mists to create multiple mist-like illusions of himself, he hurled himself and all his copies from all angles. Each of them wielding a sword, or rather an illusion of a sword. The Spirit attempted to turn mid air to block, even when being launched backwards at such great speeds, but then the illusions burst, obscuring the entire surrounding air in mist.
From there the real Godara charged through, cleaving the Spirit in half - as the momentum from Seven’s hit, and the counter momentum from Godara’s powerful lunge, slashed the spirit in two, causing it to fragment in a burst of radiant light.
(Don't judge my editing /(T_T)-)
[ Image by DC comics, editted by me (@Tonysparks) with pixlr ]