Where I can tell that Psions are weaving brain-destroying magics, I quickly grip them telekinetically and fling them into each other, or other mages nearest them, disrupting their spells as best I’m able. I’d like the mobility of the Wyverium chestplate, but right now the Necrosteel is helping reduce the pain my brain takes, by converting the necrotic blasts that hit me, into a very very minor forcefield. I redirect the force’s energy to my cranium as best as I can.
I, I need a minute to think, but my Honoris Causa is engaged. I can’t, I can’t handle a moment between moments right now. I didn’t sleep great on a rocky ledge within a few dozen feet of the Worldstorm, without any of my beloveds. It didn’t help that I was still trying to decide even as I slept, if I could trust Atter. Breathe Reggie, focus. Your eyes are rolling around in their sockets, try to focus. Even without vision, you can do this.
I need something to at least draw a little bit of fire. Grasping Frostburn, and taking a quick swing at the nearest aeromancer, I call out to the elemental plane with my Archsorc staff. There’s a distant longing. It’s big, and it’s headed towards my call. Frostfire Salamanderian is on the way. I just need to hold out for a few more seconds, and offer up the extra S P from within the staff. Oof! No!
The hydragons began knocking stone my way, and covered up my visuals and senses with the shrapnel as they began unleashing combinations of breath weapons. There are three hydragons active from the alcoves. Each one has two different breath weapons. There’s fire, ice, lightning, poison, thunder, and acid, all converging on me from separate directions. I took some stone to the face, but I can’t afford to take all this!
I Q C R into number one and become three ravens, losing my hold on the spell that was calling F F S, wasting the base S P cost of the spell, not having had the time to personally offer them the extra. We wheel, we fly, we are suddenly two, hit by acid, we are suddenly one, hit by ice. We am I, is we, is am are I, one. Disoriented, diving, behind. Would be food, but it hundreds of times too large to eat. I reform as myself, atop the back of one of the flyders. I quickly shunt number one into its Q C R compartment, and prepare to switch out number three for number two if necessary.
While I have the briefest of moments of reprieve, I reach back into the elemental plane, calling for my friend, and thankfully h-she arrives. She’s feeling feminine right now, that’s fine by me. She requires over half more again the mana than the spell would normally cost, but she’s worth it, immensely more powerful than a normal elemental. I pass her a full suit of Valkyrie equipment while I’m trying to catch my bearings. F F S needs to dodge the acid and the thunder, but the poison, lightning, fire, and cold breaths seem to do nothing to her. Huh, just like me. I need to take out those two heads right away, while simultaneously making sure I don’t take too many brainblasts, or they’ll incapacitate me, then I’m just dead meat.
Uh oh, the one from the central table has something else in store entirely. It’s not elements. The necromancers are intentionally rotting one head, while passing its life force to the far head, creating a necrotic and radiant breathing hydracoliche. I jam Frostburn into a crevice in the very center of this creepy flyder’s cephalothorax. Generating as much internal lightning as I can, quickly, with the remnants of the staff that are somehow mingled with my body, I begin passing the electricity through Frostburn into this thing’s carapace, heating and cracking it further along its natural split.
Panting with exertion, I heave all my weight and telekinetic might against it, driving my sword into its brain, I hope. Cephalothorax is a combination head and thorax, right? Regardless, it doesn’t die immediately, but begins responding to shocks as I’m rocked side to side now that the spellslingers have caught on to where I am again. It seems if I lean right on Frostburn, the flyder veers hard left, and vice versa. I guess diving would be forward then! Yep!
I dive the flyder, chelicerae-first into the acid-fire hydra, and send a wave of electricity towards where I hope its spinneret center of its brain is. Thankfully, it works, and it begins its spiraling, entangling dance with this hydragon as I have it veer hard clockwise. I know that F F S is behind cover, so the fact that I’m using this creature to use another creature to spew acid everywhere is helping whittle down and discombobulate the enemy casters. Shaylon is getting closer too, whew.
Okay, these two creatures are fast becoming their own massive bone monument as the flyder uncontrollably produces this calcification web-fluid. I need to get the thunder head out of commission, or better yet, control it to help me destroy the hydracoliche. T K fling every mage that I see pop out of cover now that hydragons are beginning to breathe everywhere in retalation for the chaos I’ve set up. It’s much easier to pick them off and kill them using their own creations, now that I have a moment’s respite. The mages may be mostly dead before— Spoke too soon.
Four kobold necromancers are working to combine at least one of themselves with the hydracoliche. They’re, argh, one of the things their combined work is doing is blocking telekinesis. I hurt my friggin’ brain just trying to grab for them. Elemental Bandolier, let’s see how good your non-empowered daggers are. I toss three daggers towards one of the necromancers while opening fire with my holy halefire crossbow on another. F F S is carefully dashing around behind the thunder ice hydragon, to wrangle its thunder head.
I’m really wary of what would happen if one of the. Oh you bastards. Thankfully, it’s the poison head. A team of aeromancers arrived from somewhere, and worked to slice off the nearest head of the nearest hydragon, and of course two poison dragon heads grew back. That’s fine for me, but will Shaylon be okay? I fish out a wad of kindling from the dimensional pouch, light it, and toss it into the rapidly accumulating poison gas. Thankfully, it is indeed aerosolized enough to ignite in quite the spectacular fashion. The flame even travels up the continuously pouring gas from the twin hydragons’ mouths, and suddenly their heads explode from within. Gruesome as hell, but effective. Other than the necromancer party, most of the mages and Psions left are staying in hiding, behind bone cover.
Crap, speaking of, the other flyder. Ugh, it got me. I’m pinned. My adamantite muscles could probably break free if I had a bit better leverage, but I’m just going to have to Q C R number one and raven-port out. Three are we, and this time, flyder knows us, seeks us. We have less other dangers to dodge now though. Still we are down to two. Now we are down to one. Drat, we are down to zero. I quickly Q C R number one back to its compartment, Q C R to number two, take and hold a deep breath, and T K S L above and behind the flyder, then angle a new T K S L towards its cephalothorax. Ack! It’s too fast! How did it turn so fast?!
Eeeeeeeek! This is fuggin’ traumatizing and phobia inducing! Okay, okay, don’t panic, don’t panic. Whaddayamean don’t panic!? This is the perfect time to panic! I’m in a flyder’s mouthy bits! Ah! Breathe, even panting in exhausted fear is enough. Boom. Its chelicerae couldn’t hold my adamantite bodyweight, I drop onto the back of a lightning hydragon head. I clamber around to its front, and jab my fists in its nostrils, to hang in front of its open maw as it spews lightning. I stab Frostburn through its septum for better leverage to remain locked in place with my right hand.
Now that I’m in a decent position, getting about half of the lightning hydragon’s breath directed into me, I facepalm, and just equip number four, withdrawing Frostburn. Dragging myself atop the lightning hydragon’s face discombobulates it as its own lightning dances up its own snout and eyes to strike me, blinding it. It thrashes in pain of course, and sends me toppling off one side. I take a deep breath, and T K S L back towards flyder numero dos, because the thing frickin’ terrifies me. I try to fake it out by leaping over it again, knowing it’ll turn towards me quickly. It does, and its spinnerets and much of its body are in the direct path of the lightning headed my way. The flyder’s abdomen explodes, showering sticky, fast-calcifying fluid around the room, slowing the motions of many of its creatures. The flyder looses an awful squealing hiss of pain as it flaps about erratically at the shock of the destruction of much of its body.
I regret that I managed to catch F F S with a lot of the bone-growth fluid, as well as the hydracoliche, because it seems to empower the hydracoliche. This could have been a deadly combo on a battlefield, producing more and more bone growth for a nigh undefeatable, enormous, empowered, undead monstrosity. Jabbing Frostburn into the squealing flyder’s face, I unleash the lightning I’d been taking from number four, cooking the creature’s mouth, optic nerves, and quite a bit else. It plummets from the air, spasming, dying. The flyder numero dos lands atop the hydracoliche, just where I want to be while I still have lightning coming my way.
F F S is struggling to contain the thunder head, thankfully, but I make sure to swap back to Q C R number three, as I’m amidst necromancers blasting at me. Pulling out some E S Ps with my offhand, telekinesis on stray lances of bone, and slahing outwards with Frostburn, I manage to end the rest of the necromancers. Except the one that has joined the hydracoliche. Shaylon shows up just in time to see the thing rise off of the table. Crap crap crap crap.
Shaylon activates Aegis, holds their breath, and holds perfectly still, hardening. All spells, and all breath weapons in the area begin traveling to Aegis in a straight line, curving around any member of the Order of the Onyx Dawn. I Q C R from number four to number five as well so as not to disrupt Aegis's ability. This results in hydracoliche being bombarded with breath weapons, since it could only move off the altar table towards our door, putting it right in front of Shaylon. Phew, huff. This is crazy. How the hell am I supposed to know which element will work on which hydragon? I don’t have enough SP for spells if I manage to guess incorrectly even once.
Uh, well, I know one “element” that works, bludgeoning. The hydragons seem to be nothing more than beasts, likely incapable of parsing the G S E illusion limitation. But how do I get blunt force? Would the spell be able to mimic a meteor? That’s a higher tier of magic though. No, probably not. What if I say something esoteric like, “Steeltide,” or, “Boulderdash?” Gravity! Uh, uh, black hole? No, too vaguely powerful. An eighth tier magic spell or lower. Uh, gravity well? Collapsing star? Event horizon? Dark star? Void star? Collapsing void? Gravity fissure? Gravity tsunami?
I think I’m going to have to be a little bit cheesy and a little bit creative at the same time. Something like, “Collapsing ultra-gravity fissure.” Or, “Darkest star’s event horizon.” Hm, coin toss? What do you think F F S? Shaylon? Oh, I bet I know which one--
Shaylon sends me a slithery hissing smile in reply as they state, “The second sounds superior.”
Chuckling, I nod. I figured as much. A few extra ess sounds for Shaylon’s exceedingly pleasant hiss. I get tingles listening to it. I shiver across my whole body momentarily.
Slyly grinning, Shaylon comments with their hissed esses, “Shield seems to not so subtly, or at all, enjoy such as my accents. A shame to be so sure.”
I flash a wry smile across my wavelength as I tell F F S to try to sneak out past Shaylon, and for Shaylon to let up on Aegis and start moving on my signal. It only takes a moment to get into position, to make sure I’m wearing three and five from my Q C R, and I quicken a G S E with the phrase, “Darkest Star’s Event Horizon!” aiming for the center of the room, with a radius that covers the combat area of the room almost exactly. The open area between the support pillars anyway where all the deadliest foes are still amassed.
The hissing and snarling of the hydragons and remaining kobold spellcasters is suddenly muted. It’s a sound I hadn’t even registered during the heat of combat. Focusing my will, my intent, I manifest a small globe of utter darkness, the absence of light. Soon, all light, sound, and indeed, objects and creatures begin drifting towards the center of its forty foot event horizon.
The power is immense, within its radius, it’s an irresistable force. The dark energies threaten to consume everything in their path, the room included. The cavern shakes and trembles as the power takes hold. The spell’s effects radiate outward to its maximum range, and even light ceases to escape the sphere of graviturgical annihilation. At least, for anyone not aware of its illusory nature.
Watching the chaos ensue from outside its radius is fascinating. The hydragons and remaining kobold spellcasters struggle against the spell's pull, their bodies drawn inexorably towards the center while within the event horizon. They claw and scrape at the ground, trying to resist, but it’s no use. The spell's power is too great. One by one, they are drawn into the black hole's maw at its center, their bodies vanishing into the swirling darkness. Even the spun-bone support pillars that hold up the room tremble and groan as the nearest ones within its range too are drawn towards the event horizon. It is as if the entire room is collapsing in on itself, sucked into the spell's infinite abyss.
Shaylon and I slip out the way we’d come and press our backs up against what’s left of the door as a massive implosion occurs, drawing everything in the room to one spot. Things are crushed, compacted against one another, shattered, run through by bone shards, exploded as various breath weapons mingle.
And then, with a final burst of energy, the spell's power fades away. The room is silent once more, its walls and floors and ceilings restored to their original state. But the hydra and kobold spellcasters are gone, vanished into the spell's infinite void. After approximately one minute, a new kind of silence has overtaken the room.
Pshew. Shaylon and I gaze in appreciatively, finding something the size of a large beachball to have fallen and cratered the floor. All of the previous creatures' matter had condensed down to that size. The door falls inward suddenly, landing heavily at an angle atop the ultra-dense creature collection. If they hadn’t been essentially sealed in the center area of a room the exact size that it was, that probably wouldn’t have worked so well. Everything had to walk towards the center, around the weird bone-web support columns, to get into the action, which left them in a tight forty foot radius of one another.
Well, whew. The three of us dragons whistle in low notes appreciatively, while the elemental salamander nods much the same. If any of them had resisted the effect, or seen through it, it would have done absolutely nothing, because the others would have seen one being unaffected. Risky spell, but it paid off again. Oh, wait, to those that are affected by it at all, it’s complete utter darkness, pitch black, an absence of light as light can’t escape. They can’t see others succeeding at seeing the illusions, hah.
Where am I at for the day, one hundred thirty two runes used? I think. Two slow cast Steely Body spells, one quick cast G S E. Gorram was that a good investment. I can’t always use it, but when I’m fairly sure it’ll work, hell yeah it works.
The midnight-sky’s sparkling Iylynila’s beautiful telepathic voice chuckles as she grunts and asks, “What, huff, works Schism?”
I’m so incredibly happy that Illy, and therefore the Dormir, are safely within range. She’d assuredly have opened with either needing help, or an injury report if it were otherwise. I try to put up enough telepathic walls as I imagine Illy, strong, beautiful Iylynila, whose body is as much a work of art as her mother, a sculpted onyx-marble masterpiece. Her raven tresses and midnight-sky skin and onyx orbs for eyes are all ethereally beauteous. I imagine she's alternating between a smaller version of her dragon form, and her human form, to fight her way down the ShizTinth stronghold.
Hopefully my brain doesn't do this again, so that I can let down my telepathic passive walls. It's nice to have them down for quicker communication when people just *know* what you'd like to request of them, or what you expect of them. It does leave me feeling slightly vulnerable and embarrassed sometimes however.
Responding to Illy, trying to wall off my passive outgoing telepathy to anyone else temporarily, I state, “Just a really good spell of mine. I’m glad to hear your voice Illy. I’m only just finished with the third floor, moving up to four. I have the leader of a faction that lives southeast of here as my ‘prisoner’, Attraxiaz the Loud, the Thunderer. I offered her mercy after issuing my challenge, and she surrendered, so we discussed terms.”
Taking a deep breath, and exhaling slowly, I continue explaining to Iylynila, “She is to be protected, so that we can evacuate her clan to Mount Solace. She won’t turn against Terrorzin, but she will flee his control, vowing non-aggression, if she deems Mount Solace a viable haven for her people after a visit. I’ll see you soon. Okay? Stay safe. Drive Shiz and Tinth to me. Atter has asked that I at least try to offer mercy to Shiz as well, and I’ll try to offer it to them both, but with how devoted their followers are to Terrorzin, I’m not getting my hopes up.”
The darkly star-lit, wonderful, beloved daughter of our beloved Lady Kinzul grunts in combat as she responds, “Sure thing Schism, huff. We’re on the eleventh, working our way down to the tenth right now. Sounds like the alarm news is four dragons up top, one puny creature below, so the bosses should be headed your way eventually as long as Shield and Aegis don’t make their presence known too much, or at least don’t leave survivors. Let’s wrap this up and go home. A lot of people are looking forward to seeing you, Hero.”