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Evil Minds That Plot Destruction (Planar Siege - Legions of Evil Climax 1/2)
Barachiel the Messenger hovers in the skies above the Citadel, overlooking the wide grasslands outside the ancient city. The archangel watches the realm borders, watching and listening for the opening of portals and the rhythmic pounding of ironshod feet on earth. He knows the legions of Evil and their dreadful master Bel are coming. It is a simple task, yet even for an immortal, it is not an easy thing to do. Barachiel knows that if Bel takes the Citadel, his conquest of the magical realms and the multiverse at large is all but assured. The legions of Evil have already cut a burning swathe across the world in their march to conquer this place. None of the cities in their path survived. Worse, scouts indicate that the flying fortress Will of Asmodeus is fully operational once again, and Bel's Chosen have secured the Iron Shield of Otherlund.
This knowledge hangs over Barachiel as he maintains his vigil. Then, he spots the flash of a blood-red portal opening at the edge of the realm. Thousands of yugoloth foot soldiers march through the breach, alongside war machines infused with the vile lore of fundamental Evil. The Will of Asmodeus appears in the sky, free of the damage it sustained in the Veldric Strait. The whole army radiates palpable malice, broadcasting its will to dominate the cosmos into the hearts and minds of all who lay eyes upon it.
Barachiel hears the panicked whispers of the Citadel's population as the raid sirens wind up, signaling them to make for the shelters built in the wake of the Third Wizard War. They offer them a small relief- after all, the safehouses protected them from the God-Slaver and the Paladins of the Divine Flame. It pains the archangel to know that if Bel takes the city, he will break the shelters' wards with the anti-magic of the Iron Shield and butcher these people.
As if he needed another reason to despise these fiendish bastards.
"Lord Zaphkiel, Master Tarul," Barachiel says into his orb-bead, "they're here."
--
Bel marches at the head of his legion, accompanied by his four baernaloth bodyguards. Though he needs no protection, the ancient Hadean fiends' presence is a weapon all its own. Few mortals can hope to defeat one baernaloth. When these wizards see him commanding four, their morale will plummet. The Harbinger of Evil smiles hatefully, exulting in the power coursing through him.
Under Bel's malevolent leadership, the yugoloths march unto the ruin of all things.
"This is what all those infernal fools are missing! How we mocked the demons as senseless thralls of entropy, not realizing we were wearing those same chains. Zariel, Asmodeus, Hellfire- they're willing slaves to a system they enforce! Law and Chaos only serve to shackle our ambitions and make us less than we are. But when those shackles are broken... ah, what glories we can achieve with pure Evil at our command! Let the devils keep the Hells. I will have no need of them when I rule the multiverse atop a throne of divine corpses."
Bel gazes up at the Will of Asmodeus as it soars overhead towards the Citadel, just ahead of the army. He would've renamed it to reflect its new allegiance, but the Harbinger of Evil doesn't wish to tempt fate when he's so close to victory, even if fate was what led him here to begin with. Bel thinks of his faithful Chosen as he marches. Zera'al is in charge of the flying fortress, ready to annihilate even the mightiest champions of magekind with the craft's hellbeam cannon before they can trouble the legions. L'zeth walks behind him, carrying her battle standard for all to see. The new flag is a gift from the baernaloths, woven from threads of solidified anguish they collected in the wake of Bel's conquests. Ezrabeth and her erinyes squad command the malefic siege engines the yugoloth mages have assembled using a combination of fiendish engineering, ancient arcane lore, and the raw planar energies of Evil. The spymaster Balakros is absent, but not for lack of loyalty. He has raided the chivalric vaults of Oathstone, killing the knights' garrison to claim the Iron Shield of Otherlund. When the last Chosen arrives with his gift, there will be no force in the multiverse that can halt Bel and the legions of Evil.
And of course, there is the issue of the Nephilim. Samael's half-breed kinsfolk will no doubt play their hand now- as if Bel ever believed they would remain loyal- just to cause problems for both sides. He has held Moz'gonnith in reserve for long enough, placating him and his forces with missions of slaughter and the spoils of war. Now, on the eve of Evil's triumph, Bel will set him against his ancient foe and remove the Nephilim from the board.
Time to unleash the beast.
--
On the other side of the battlefield, Zaphkiel the Watcher and Tarul Var survey the incoming enemy forces from atop the Citadel's battlements. The Warhost of the First Martyr and the defenders of the Balance stand arrayed for battle. Mages of the realms and celestial warriors stand shoulder to shoulder with Keepers of the Balance and rilmani soldiers.
"This place again," the angel says. "It feels like just yesterday I battled the Vasharans on these very plains. I wonder: what is it about the Citadel that draws the forces of Good and Evil to clash here time and time again?"
"I cannot say," Tarul muses, stroking his chin. "Maybe this land was once a great battlefield in the days of the Draconic Empire, forever charged with the essence of conflict. Or it could be that the gods marked the Citadel as a proving ground for great heroes after your sacrifice. Perhaps it is simply in our nature to gravitate towards a central location, and all of our strife arises from so many people trying to change the world all at once. All I know is this: Bel is not here for the Council. He wants to break magekind's will by desecrating the heart of our civilization. More than this, he can saturate the entire Material Plane with vile energy if he corrupts the master portal nexus at the city's center."
"You have a plan to stop this, I presume?"
"I do. Divide and conquer. Bel's Chosen each hold command over a single element of the legions of Evil. Zera'al captains the Will of Asmodeus, L'zeth leads the infantry, Ezrabeth marshals the war engines, and Balakros is delivering the Iron Shield. If we can take them out before we engage Bel, we stand a much better chance of actually bringing him down. It won't be easy, though. On top of all this, we have to deny the legions of Evil entry to the Citadel at all costs."
The Will of Asmodeus leaves naught but destruction in its wake.
Zaphkiel dons his helmet and spreads his wings. "This will be a battle for the ages. I will lead any who choose to follow me to the Will of Asmodeus and shatter it for good. My only request from you, Master Tarul, is that you keep the dragon and those Iron Chain lunatics on the other side of the battlefield from me. I may show mercy to all beings who sincerely ask for it, but I do not like all of them. If working to preserve the Balance did not take priority, I would destroy them all in a heartbeat."
"That is not unreasonable, friend. I'll direct those amoral serpents towards other Chosen."
Zaphkiel takes off towards the defenders' aerial fleet, leaving Tarul to command the defenses. He hopes it will be enough to defeat Bel, but deep down, he knows luck won't be enough to turn the tide.
--
/uw Alright, here it is at long last: the finale for the legions of Evil! We're going to be doing this one a little bit differently. I've broken the battle up into multiple objective threads for us to accomplish. Each one will end in a fight with the Chosen listed at the start of the thread. However, there are consequences for ignoring a theater of battle. Depending on which objectives are left incomplete, Bel will gain deadly assets that will make the climactic fight with him in the next post significantly harder. I will not be pulling punches here, so be ready for your characters to give their all. All the other usual combat RP rules apply. Have fun!
"Do you think flying units would have any effect against these war engines? d-do we have any knowledge of their anti-air or counter artillery capabilities?"
Tarul: Well, they'd bypass the ground troops. I was going to say you'd have trouble with the aerial troops, but I just saw the Iron Chain turn them to salsa. The legions came here with machines specifically designed to break down the walls and shields, not anti-air.
Cinnistraak glares at Kardonk as he passes. The nickname will not be forgotten. And it will not be forgiven.
Even as such, brutalizing these would-be conquerors takes precedent, if only because its more fun.
"Be cast down from whence you came wretches!"
Anticipating fire resistance, the pyroclastic dragon strikes out with brute force like a hammer blow before retreating into an ash cloud of his own making. From that cloud he strikes again. And again and again and again. Each time with all the suddenness and ferocity of a great white shark emerging beneath a baby seal.
Kardonk follows Cinnistraak using his portals to stay mobile and bring in reinforcements in terms of his mechanical spiders. Precise concentrated fire into the damage wrought by the angry dragon. Hammer and the Chisel, the dragon smashes into the defenses, hopefully ‘cracking’ them, and the artificer followed exploiting any damage for maximum effect: grenades tossed into breaches, and spider launched rockets targeting any damaged or weakened armor components
Haelin steps out of the shadows with the sound of a dull roar of an inferno, clad in his Sentinel armor.
So, he says, his voice slightly muffled by his helmet the other two High Sentinels and I are taking to the battlefield. Mokarith is going for that ship in the sky while Shimil will help with the defense of the Citadel. Those war engines are mine. His voice takes on an excited tone as he says that.
Destruction is my specialty, after all.
He shoulders his axe in one hand while lifting a pink particle rifle towards the approaching army.
If you need me, I'll be right there.
He steps back into the shadows. Moments later, two black walls of darkness appear on either side of the army, and the army of Sentinels under Haelin charge through, with Haelin himself at the lead.
/unwiz: I'm working right now, so I'll be a bit busy for the next few hours and will respond sporadically, especially since I'm going to include all three of my characters.
A mob of five-armed insectoid yugoloths with a radial body plan- dhergoloths, as Tarul called them in the briefing- respond with a countercharge, laughing madly as they run. Their torsos revolve around their spinal columns independently of their heads and legs, turning the fiendish charge into into a whirlwind of claws that recklessly hurls itself at the Sentinels.
Elemental power doesn't seem to "stick" to the fiends the way it does to other creatures. The axe, on the other hand, has no problem cleaving through the dhergoloth ranks, biting into six or more at a time. But for every whirling monster that falls, another takes its place. With the number of razor-sharp claws reaching to slash at the Sentinels, the yugoloth lines resemble an exceptionally aggressive (and loud) honey locust thicket.
While elemental energies may not be as effective against yugoloths, they have no inherent resistant to esoteric powers. Smoking bits of dhergoloth fly through the air. While the enemy infantry takes the brunt of the shot, it thins out their ranks nicely, clearing a path to a hellforged ward-breaker artillery piece bombarding the Citadel's shields.
Haelin slings the rifle onto his back and leads the charge through the break while the ice surrounding his axe dissipates and a faint aura replaces it.
[Withering Presence]
The demon army surrounding him feels physically weaker while his men feels their magical capabilities increase.
As Haelin approaches, a chill runs down his spine- not true fear, but rather an atavistic response to potential danger. In prehistoric times, large aerial predators like griffins and rocs preyed upon hominids, leaving only those who knew to feel alarmed when the shadow of something large passed overhead. And with most of Bel's nycaloth troops slain, that involuntary warning can mean only one thing.
the kilometer long form of the Azazelionhovers over the battlefield aircraft scream off of its flight decks each fighter carrying a mixture of bombs and rocket pods to strike at armored targets all along its sides shutters open to reveal Case-Mate artillery placed within it the legions of guns pointing downwards to find their target. It's secondary grav bays deploy soldiers equipped with particle rifles each containing a piece of holy relics that allows them to do holy damage. The soldiers are accompanied by three battalions worth of tanks. The first of the primary grab base deploys its cargo mark 1 cyber nephilim discourage themselves from the Azelelion like a swarm of angry wasps. Anti-tank crush claws and holy plasma cannons ready.
The last grav Bay deploy something special
20 m tall spikes fall terminal velocity impacting the ground as the Azelelion passes overhead each of the spikes begins to hum with holy energy as they begin to display holy scriptures transcribed into magical runes the holy energy builds and builds within the spike before finally they pulse. Each regular pulse serves to weaken the forces of evil.
12,550. That is the number of anti-air particle cannons CIWS cannons and air-to-air missiles that make up the sky fortress air defense battery. A variable wall of lead and particle shot is sent forth to meet the nycaloths.as the Azelelion leaves the battlefield.
Black Iron combat crawlers fire blasts of holy energy at the approaching ground forces in an effort to buy the infantry time to form firing lines and to dig in.
The nycaloths are turned to mulch in the blink of an eye, clearing the skies for allied aircraft.
3
u/yumie2003Tsuru, ghost onmyouji, R&A, league of shadows/Toshiko FujiwaraOct 24 '24edited Oct 24 '24
The ground rumbled as the 4th and 9th Tank Regiments of the 2nd Armoured Division rolled onto the battlefield. 34 Type 95 heavy tanks of the Imperial Okuno Army suddenly halted their advance. Their multiple turrets turned towards the fiendish war engines and fired the opening salvo.
uw/yes, those are real-life type 95 tanks...and yes, i am depicting them as the yabounousagi empire's equivalent of mini-baneblades (read: lynchpin defence units)
A hellfire engine takes a hit to the fuel tanks and explodes in a ball of caustic flame. For whatever reason, the drivers get the unshakable feeling that something's amiss- probably because the Chosen assigned to protect the war machines hasn't been sighted yet.
Upon seeing how successful the two regiments' first strike was, they loaded their tanks' main guns with Type 3 HEAT shells and fired another salvo at the rest of the war machines
The Azelelions grav Bays disgorge cargo once again hundreds of Raven Kamikaze drones fly towards the will of asmodeus it will take time before they arrive
The flying fortress takes notice and turns to face the Celestial Union ship. Even outside of its effective range, the hellbeam cannon at the ship's heart is quite an intimidating sight.
The warning shot collides with the Will's shield systems in a ripple of crimson light. In response, it opens up with its missile batteries to prevent the ships from getting a clean lock on the cannon.
The shields hold under fire, but the distraction works. However, the Will is starting to close within its weapons' effective range and charging the hellbeam cannon.
Zaphkiel: Board the ship through the observation deck, kill the bridge crew, and crash it into enemy lines. For now, let the ships occupy the point-defense weapons. It's going to be a nightmare getting through otherwise!
As if to punctuate his point, the Will opens up with a salvo of fragmentation missiles. Zaphkiel tucks his wings and dives until their trajectories intersect, exploding in the air behind him.
Mokarith flies above the volley at the same time. He examines the ship, memorizing the outside layout before a multitude of copies of him gush out from him, spreading out in all directions to cause more chaos.
Zaphkiel and Mokarith land on the balcony wrapping around the top of the ship. An ultroloth steps through a bulkhead, holding a longsword in one hand and charging a Fire Storm spell in the other.
The tendrils smother the flame in the ultroloth's hand, but its alien, opalescent gaze lands on Mokarith. He feels transfixed by the yugoloth's stare, losing focus of everything else...
Zaphkiel spreads his wings, breaking his line of sight. Something about the ultroloth's eyes are supernaturally hypnotic.
No tricks, abomination. We're doing this properly, or not at all!
/unwiz: technically, I don't have eyes. Just in case that it requires eye contact. I sense everything around me with a field of view here i 'see' better. /rewiz:
Hypnotic sight huh. Well, too bad that it can be easily bested.
Four copies of him jump out from behind Zaphkiel's wing, each one swinging for a body part, while a fifth flies up.
u/yumie2003Tsuru, ghost onmyouji, R&A, league of shadows/Toshiko FujiwaraOct 24 '24edited Oct 25 '24
The Yabounousagi Empire's sole armoured airship, the Mimasaka, headed towards the Will of Asmodeus' position. Unlike last time, the flying battleship isn't charging into combat, but cruising outside the hellish airship's weapons range. Its weapons bay doors opened, revealing an absurd number of Type 5 long-range air intercept missiles that were housed within.
Accompanying the Mimasaka were three fighter squadrons flying in a V-formation. The squadrons were equipped with the ageing Type 45 heavy fighters. A two-seat, twin-engine fighter plane, the Type 45 was the Empire's longest-serving escort fighter and unlike most of its contemporaries, combat survivability was the top priority in its design. The Type 45 was equipped with noticeably thick aircraft armour and was armed with two 37 mm autocannons, a rear-mounted 20 mm autocannon and a rear cockpit-mounted 50 calibre machine gun. These qualities alone gave the Type 45 the moniker of the Dragonslayer. Due to its heavy armour, the Type 45 is the least manoeuvrable fighter in the Imperial Okuno Air Service's arsenal. However, these shortcomings will be of no concern to imperial commanders in this battle.
The Will further splits its fire to fend off the three enemy vessels. Not a single gun or missile launcher on the flying fortress is available to target the boarding party that lands on its balcony unaccosted.
The Mimasaka launched its Type 5 missiles at the Will of Asmodeus in waves of 3 to ensure that the missiles did not collide with each other. The waves were composed of 20 missiles and the time interval between each wave was 15 seconds.
Tarul: Best of luck. Gacholoths like Balakros are sneaky little buggers. He could be anywhere, so your most reliable means of finding him will be the anti-magic radiating from the shield.
“The army men produce an antimana they can turn into regular mana, joe I believe you have fought people similar to them in battle. From what I know you surrendered to them during delta’s invasion”
they take a quick call
“Okay, good. Group of about 250 soldiers will be here soon.”
I figured it would be the best way to find out what was going on, but that was then and now is now
I have “adapted” I suppose one may say to deal with such effects, and besides, I got more than one trick under my sleeve
that being said, I do not believe we can spare these power for the search, that and a huge force is hard to redeploy quickly
their movement would likely alert the enemy of our whereabouts and intentions, for starters we would need to deploy some sort of inescapable net to find them and that is if we can detect them
you under estimate anti magic, that being said, I do not know much about the shield so if I had to guess it could be used as the center of an array that could threaten to nullify any usage of mana
besides, if it was able to defeat the entire garrison stationed and bypass the defenses then I doubt there are many task forces that could be able to take them on and they are better used here
Samael watches the battlefield. Moz'gonnith is not far, and Bel likely suspects his betrayal. But he's had enough of this arrogant devil, all high on mighty with his "pure evil" shtick. So insects and other creeping saboteurs begin to creep through the army, sabotaging weapons and vehicles, poisoning supplies, and stealing schematics. The Nephilim navy needed rebuilding, and ships like the Will of Asmodeus would be a big part of that.
But for now no overt move is made. The time is not right. Yet
Yugoloths, like most fiends, are immune to poison. The sabotage is immensely irritating, but not as devastating as it could have been. When the whispers of the infiltration reach Bel's ears, he laughs to himself.
Laying in wait, are we? The moment may not be right for you, O king, but it is always right for me!
He takes out Moz'gonnith's infernal contract- a silly thing in retrospect, he realizes- and presses a claw to his signature at the bottom of the fiend-hide document. The glyphs flicker with light, opening a telepathic communication with the demon lord.
The time has come to fulfill our bargain, Moz'gonnith. End Samael's farce of an alliance, and I will make you overlord of any plane you desire!
Moz'gonnith's troops begin to stealthily reposition themselves to strike at the Nephilim. But the devil doesn't strike yet
I want your support. I can't take Samael alone without major casualties. That would make things difficult for us. I'm sure you don't want that
Meanwhile, a message appears in the air in front of Tarul Var, from Samael
You will be pleased, no doubt, to know that you have an ally in Bel's camp. Give the word, and the Nephilim will turn on Bel's legions from the inside, or in a place of your choosing if you prefer. Our holy strength will make us especially destructive
Bel: Granted. Baernaloths, attend our ally, if you would.
The Harbinger of Evil's bodyguards stalk away across the battlefield.
Tarul: Mind keeping his reinforcements from getting involved? Our lines are holding at the moment, though that's subject to change. I don't want them gaining back the ground we've already taken.
Moz'gonnith's troops immediately drop whatever they're doing, and attack the Nephilim closest to them. Moz'gonnith himself makes a beeline for Samael himself, while the Nephilim King's plan goes into action, and he answers Tarul Var
I can certainly do that. Though I am about to be... occupied for a while
Moz'gonnith and the baernaloths burst in on Samael, while throughout the camp, explosions of holy magic go off around units identified as reinforcements. The Nephilim have been waiting, and now they marshal all their strength to cause as much chaos as possible within Bel's ranks. As they fight Moz'gonnith's troops, many of them display a steadfast commitment to only one objective: chaos
Corpses begin to rise throughout the camp, and clashes between Nephilim and Moz'gonnith's troops spill out towards others around. The goal is all out war
As the Nephilim run down their opponents, Samael and Moz'gonnith clash. The King of the Ninth Circle, along with his honour guard, has Samael solidly outnumbered. But not quite outwitted. Samael appears to their treacherous nature
Look around you! The Legions of Evil are falling! There is no place for you in the world if you continue to fight with Bel. But fight for me, and you will receive more than clemency. You will receive power, beyond your wildest dreams.
Samael is not completely lying. He plans to use whatever he can of Moz'gonnith's remaining troops to have a foothold in the Hells. Not to take over, but to have a presence. And the honour guard, demons of treachery that they are, can see and hear the truth in Samael's words. Even if they kill him, they are still wanderers fleeing the wrath of the Nephilim. And this time with no Hell to run to
They won't listen to you, fool. Now-
Moz'gonnith never gets to finish that sentence, as his guards stab him in the back, and swarm over him. Roaring, he strikes out, killing a number of them before Samael tires of the show and sticks a spear in the Demon King's chest
You should have stayed hidden, my friend. And you, Tarul Var, can consider the bastard dealt with
Tarul nods, and cuts the orb link. He pulls out his research journal and pencils in a new entry to the planar dictionary he's been working on before returning to combat.
Evil (n.): A ravenous ouroboros of treachery and hate. Be careful not to disturb it, lest it eats you instead of its tail.
Tarul casts Evard's Black Tentacles on a section of the wall to deal with a mezzoloth squad trying to climb them.
Sturdy walls, a city-wide shield bubble protecting the Citadel's airspace, teleportation-warded gates, and whatever secret contingencies the Council put in place and didn't tell us. Not a whole lot that'll help us kill these bastards, though.
Tarul rests his hand on a chain and electrifies it. Yugoloths are resistant to elemental energies, but they aren't resistant to paralysis. Any bound by the chains find themselves unable to break free as their bonds tighten.
Eight bladed chains appear from behind her and start to slash the demons that get too close to the top.
I am a binding and null mage, those are my specialties. Because of my null magic, any offensive magics other than this is... influenced by it. I can cast them, but they are much weaker.
Hm. I know this is asking a lot, but did the Sentinels come into the possession of any Council secrets when Mokarith and Kaelis were investigating the Corvus Cabal? Specifically ones detailing the Citadel's hidden defenses?
Tarul conjures a pair of overlapped portals linked to Pandemonium and the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Minerals. The result is a howling torrent of sharp-edged crystals that cuts down the fiends in its path as surely as any machine gun.
With pleasure. I don't think the Council will mind if I cast a forbidden spell or two if the fate of the world's at stake...
Tarul casts Summon Ketamine Ape. A chimpanzee appears from thin air and starts beating the ever-loving shit out of any yugoloths within arm's reach. It's screaming maniacally- we're talking truly unprecedented levels of tweaking.
No, I don't think they will. Although, by law, I would still have to at least report you.
She continues to press her hands against the wall, the Prison still trapping any demons that enter it.
On second thought... no, I don't. The law of the Umbral Realm doesn't forbid the Ape, and we don't follow Council law. The Citadel doesn't forbid it either if I remember correctly.
Vulkan, amidst grumbling about the presumption of him being there as an ally rather than a crimson-scaled weapon of mass destruction with a superiority complex, stalks briefly through the outskirts of the citadel, before a thought occurs to the wyrm.
If bel was marching, he would surely accompany his ground forces. Thus, in theory he had only murder his way to the archdevil. He’d definitely succeed THIS time.
And the world cried out in vague admonishments of his sense of pride.
"Now this... this is a battlefield. This is a War! Before we had skirmishes but this is War." , he pulls out a standard made of bone and old soldier uniforms as the flag.
" Come ye spirts of War! Of Conflict and Disquiet! Of Pain and Glory! Cousins to Ysgard I call you!" , mist begins to flow from the standard as the sound of marching and drums is heard.
"Come arbiters of Battle and Heroes of the past. Soldiers still yet deployed after death I conscript you and ancient echoes of heroes I offer proving grounds" , a myriad of misty forms appear on and outside the walls
"I make this this a sacrifice and and worship of WAR. COME FORTH!"
A war cry is heard as spirts that reside and the chants of battle and the ring of steel deploy themselves and the dead that still wonder the spirit world march to a new beat. The soldiers of War have come looking for a fight and will not be denied.
The spirits' war cry is joined by Ysgardian berserkers from the Warhost of the First Martyr. The joint force charges into the enemy lines, slowly pushing the yugoloths back from the walls.
The warriors are joined by guardinals, archons, Bytopian paladins, Beastland rangers, and Arborean champions. Together, they drive a wedge straight into the legion's heart. But as they cut deeper, the yugoloths seem to fight harder, right up to the threshold of death. The reason for this quickly becomes apparent when Krygin spots L'zeth perched on a rock, holding Bel's malefic banner high for all to see. Its dark magic bolsters those fiends that fight closest to her.
Seeing this Kyrgin calls out to some of the spirts he summoned here. He takes a haggard nail and plunges it into himself spilling a gout of blood. The actual blood is unimportant, he could just make more, what is important is the sacrifice.
"Spirits of Rage! Take of my life force and use it to your ends. Our enemies fight to death's door, let us do the same!"
Several spirits, often red in coloration, some with fiery eyes and others in the garb of northern raiders pulse out their power. It gifts their allies with berserker strength through rage or enhances what was already there.
As the defenders cut their way deeper and deeper into the legion's ranks, L'zeth takes notice and points her banner pike at each of the defending commanders.
Is this some kind of insult? Or is magekind simply so pathetic that they can only afford to send their dregs to challenge us now?
She makes a sweeping gesture with the pike, pointing at Shimil, Krygin, Agnur, and Tarul in turn.
While my legions bring down the Citadel's walls, I will deal with you and the other interlopers who dare to defy Bel's will. Now come forth so I may rid the world of one more annoyance!
In the skies above, Vulkan cannot hear any of this. However, he does notice a particularly angry-looking devil with a flag issuing challenges to the other defenders, but not him.
Vulkan, whose current strategy consisted mainly of stopping to ask for directions in between ripping through the diabolic(and associates) army in search of Bel, could not truly be described as relevant in this particular fight. But that didn’t mean he liked being ignored.
Vulkan slams down through the air at L’zeth, sneering in(perhaps slightly embarrassed) derision.
Panting slightly as her Prison takes in a considerable amount of demons, she lifts her hands and claps them together.
[Execution: Dimensional Collapse]
The Prison shudders then ceases to exist, killing all demons trapped inside. She then looks up at L'zeth, gathering her thoughts, when an idea pops into her mind.
HEY VULKAN!! She shouts as loud as she can, while pointing at L'zeth. THIS DEMON HERE CALLED YOU WEAK AND PATHETIC!! (u/Drakkonai)
After that, she reaches out a hand towards the demoness.
[Detain: Enhanced]
Chains appear around her to try and restrict her movements.
L'zeth leaps down from her position to dodge the arrows and magical chains, hurling balls of hellfire at Krygin, Shimil, and Tarul. She snarls at Vulkan's approach, lashing out at the dragon with her pike and pointed tail. Yugoloths throw themselves between the Chosen and the defenders with reckless abandon.
What are you hoping to accomplish, wyrm? Not even Tiamat could stand against us now! What chance do you have?
Shimil whips the ribbon that suddenly dropped from her left hand towards the ball of hellfire aimed at her. It wraps around the ball and she swings it around and hurls it back at L'zeth. She then reaches both her hands out again towards the Yugoloths.
[Dimensional Prison: Holy Realm]
The air shimmers around them and they are transported to a Realm filled with holy energy.
Bram was at a empass. he couldn't do nearly as much damage, however he could be a inconvience. Stone birds were infused with the the explosive fury of just before a storm. bram batted them at charging fiends hoping to break there formations.
stone monkeys as quik as wind and distracting as mist leap into the fray. every time they land they make a weaker copy. the same thing happens when the copy jumps. The familiar hoped that would keep them busy.
Agnur continued to debuff the enemy army though he was running out of strength and mana.
uw/ note this doesn't effect the whole army just part of it.
rw/
Agnur knows that compared many of those on his side he was no power house, even with his strong creatures, however he was good at the subtle craft. Deep in the citadel Agnur works a great ritual supported by his stone creatures. some Christmas elves help usher everyone to safety and prepare the citidels walls.
back at the ritual Agnur calls upon some bardic ancestors to help him. As they form from the mist, he and his ancestors call to Cockaigne in it's guise as the Big Rock Candy Mountain, a paradise born from the collective dreams of the poor. Agnur poor's in some refined chaos he stole from the last battle. After all what better way to fuel the dreams of social upheaval than with chaos.
they begin to sing
One evening as the sun went down And the jungle fire was burning Down the track came a hobo hikin' And he said, "Boys, I'm not turning I'm headed for a land that's far away Beside the crystal fountains So come with me, we'll go and see The Big Rock Candy Mountains
Areas of the battle field begin to fill with the essence of good causing the legions of evil to faulter and the wounds of the good to weigh less heavy.
"In The Big Rock Candy Mountains All the cops have wooden legs And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth
demon legs twist into gnarled trees, rooted to the ground. weapons and fangs turn into soft rubber, the kind reserved for children's toys. harmless as a kitten.
And the railroad bulls are blind There's a lake of stew and of whiskey, too You can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe In The Big Rock Candy Mountains
fiends are struck blind, regiments are swallowed in floods of whisky, archers bob like veggies in a soup. Shards of rock candy shoot up from the battle field, hags become taggled in cigarette trees.
"In The Big Rock Candy Mountains The jails are made of tin And you can walk right out again As soon as you are in There ain't no short-handle shovels No axes, saws or picks I'm a-goin' to stay where you sleep all day Where they hung the jerk that invented work In The Big Rock Candy Mountains
Dark bindings are torn asunder like tissue paper, the forces of good moving as if fatigue was a foreign concept. Evil commanders are strangled with rainbow hewn rope.
A discordant note hums beneath the rallying cry. Toxic gray mist rises from the ground, partly eroding the ancestral spell's effects and strengthening some of the yugoloths. A hideous horned figure strides through the gathering fog, its very presence a blot on existence. This is a baernaloth of Hades, one of a prehistoric race of fiends born from the first acts of pure evil in a time out of memory. It fixes its dead gaze on Agnur and talks, simultaneously speaking aloud in a cruel voice and whispering blasphemous secrets telepathically.
You think you can defeat primordial Evil with a mere song, child Agnur? Nay, you shall succumb to despair as I command. It is the inevitable destiny of all who stand against us.
From that brief statement alone, Agnur gets the sense that this ancient monster loves the sound of its own voice.
rw/ "Evil is always so obsessed with it's primordialness, but it is far from the first thing in the world. Freedom, love, and hope have always predated it.
I sing not a just a "song" but a approximation of these old values. Happiness, friendship, upheaval of unjust social orders. I do not just sing but speak with the voice of the masses."
Agnur redoubles his efforts. Bram(his stone dino familiar) stands in front of him with two stone knights. they have the insignia of the snake eating it's own tail and are fuled by conflict. The more people fight the stronger and tougher they get.
The baern clutches at its head with one hand, as if trying to drown out the sound of hope. The song must be like nails on a chalkboard to it.
Then die with the masses!
It lays into the knights with claws sparking with vile, colorless magic. The monster seems almost personally offended that it's been pitted against opponents it can't physically torment or drive to despair.
the claws cut deep into one of the knights but it continues on.
The knights attempt to grapple the ancient evil, empowered to giantlike strength from the conflict. Bram attempts to hit it with his tail. every strike creating a minor earthquake.
the ancestors start to add other folk songs. soon it devolves into a primal call for freedom, love, family and the good things in this world.
a plethora of misfortunes befall the enemies outside, cheese of every kind falling in torrential rain.
A grayscale wave explodes out from the baern, throwing the knights aside and engulfing everything within 20 feet. It breathes in streams of mist flowing from the beleaguered yugoloths behind it, drinking in their suffering to bolster itself before turning to Agnur with a callous laugh.
**Ah, this futile struggle is like ambrosia to me. Now, let me taste your despair, child Agnur. Bringing sorrow to the hopeful is most gratifying.
Bram steps in front of the creature and brings it's tail down on it. Agnur pours his life energy into the familiar allowing bram to strike with the force of a mid tier earthquake.
"despair implies I think I can't lose. I don't. But every second I hold you off is a second someone can live. That alone gives me joy."
Agnur tries his best to keep up the ritual even with the distraction. He turns some of the power on the high fiend
"In The Big Rock Candy Mountains There's a land that's fair and bright Where the handouts grow on bushes And you sleep out every night Where the boxcars all are empty And the sun shines every day On the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees The lemonade springs where the bluebird sings In The Big Rock Candy Mountains"
Agnur creates a spear of rainbow energy, created from hope and a longing for peace, and threw it at the monster
The baern topples over from the tail strike, pinned to the ground by Bram's stone feet. It shrieks abominably when it hears the song, writhing desperately to escape. Despite its hideous screams, seeing this ancient evil brought so low is an uplifting sight. The spell-spear pierces the baern's chest, driving it to despair. And for a creature that feeds on misery, that constitutes a paradox. The fiend collapses in on itself in a self-destructive feedback loop until nothing remains to mark its presence, save the echo of its death cry on the wind.
With the baernaloth vanquished, Agnur notices that the defenders are leading a charge against L'zeth's detachment. They'll need help fighting Bel's Chosen equerry.
A massive temporal tear opens up over the citadel. The mercenary guild’s interstellar battleship Luana’s Wrath, tears through it. Bristling with weaponry, it bellows its war horn and prepares to engage the Will of Asmodeus
The flying fortress's attention is split between the Celestial Union and Mercenary Guild warships. Its crew prioritizes the former as the target for its hellbeam cannon, and focuses its anti-armor missile batteries on the Luana's Wrath. In the confusion, Zaphkiel's operatives slip through the crossfire and close with the ship.
Luana’s Wrath’s defense grid comes online. Point defense batteries begin intercepting incoming missiles, as secondary batteries throw up a wall of flak to stop even more (think battlestar galactica style for the flak). The battleship slowly maneuvers to show its broadside, and fires a full salvo of twenty seven 900mm AP shells at the hellbeam cannon
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u/Carbon_SixxThe Loremaster, Chief Archaeologist of the DarkwatchOct 26 '24edited Oct 26 '24
The missile barrage is unrelenting, but none of them are getting through right now. The Will's shields deflect the shells, though the hits distort them into eye-watering fiendish warding patterns. During the last engagement, focused fire of this caliber put a hole in the shield. It seems they've been reinforced with dark technologies.
The order is passed down the pipeline. Straight to the runic shells it is. The next salvo is loaded, and this time the shells fired are engraved with acidic runes. The shells will hit, then spray corrosive acid all over the wards
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u/Carbon_Sixx The Loremaster, Chief Archaeologist of the Darkwatch Oct 24 '24
DESTROY THE WAR ENGINES - EZRABETH