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Fantasy The Worst Pantheon: Live and Reloaded (IC Thread) (OPEN)

OOC
Here
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Original The Character: Action 1
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Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, a young woman clad in a black cloak and carrying a basket of unknown contents ran through the woods, leaping over felled logs and undergrowth as the sounds of the villagers grew louder behind her. Cyan blood mixed with sweat poured down her face as she dashed through the thorny branches, the pain from which elicited little more than a whimper as anything louder would assure that the villagers would be alerted. A gunshot rang out and her heart skipped a beat. She turned back to see how close they had gotten, and yet not ceasing to run. Unfortunately, the young girl, being distracted, wasn't able to see the particularly thick branch that smacked her in the side of the head, knocking her to the ground and causing her enough shock that she shed her disguise as she fell. She, or rather, it landed face-first in the mud, dropping the stolen basket of provisions and almost definitely alerting the angry mob in the distance to its location, although said angry mob was strangely silent, their chanting of "burn the witch!" calming and the clamor of pitchforks no longer being audible. Still, the Doppleganger was mostly certain that it was doomed to die at the hands of its human pursuers, though it was not quite willing to give up yet. Slowly and painfully, the tall, grey-skinned and skeletal creature rose to its feet and staggered over towards the basket, which itself carried only basic supplies and provisions stolen from the villagers, enough to last the pitiful thing a week at best. Though, curiously, it saw that the basket in question was gone, with only a depression in the mud-puddle in which the Doppleganger had fallen to show where it had been previously. Puzzled, the alien-like thing looked around, wondering what could have made off with the supplies the doppleganger had nearly died to obtain. As it turned around, it noticed the villagers had gone totally silent, and dared to hope for a moment that they may have lost its trail, up until it felt a gentle tap on it's shoulder, which caused the doppleganger to leap forward what must have been three meters and once again splay out in the mud, desperately scrambling to its frog-like feet as Original laughed like kefka on a bad sound system.

"Woah there buddy! What's the rush?"

"P-Please don't hurt me! I was just hungry! Okay! I'm not a monster! Or a witch! P-Please just let me go!"

The doppleganger's skeletal grey body was curled up into the fetal position, it's head disproportionately outsizing its body and slowly turning to what the doppleganger likely thought was yet another angry villager, however this assumption was soon proven wrong when the creature's globular black eyes locked with those similarly colored and ichor-stained eyes (Or eye, if you want to talk semantics) of Original. The doppleganger froze, only able to muster a single telepathic word in the face of what his people knew to be-

"G...God?"

"The one and only!"

Original twirled his cane and gave a sharp-toothed smile, extending said cane to help the doppleganger to its feet. The creature reluctantly took the cane and rose, easily standing at least twice the height of Original but, upon noticing this, immediately took a knee.

"So what's an upstanding gent like you doin' lookin' like he went one too many rounds with an orc of unusual girth?"

"I, um... I was posing as a traveler in that village, you know, to steal food and such... But, uh... the elder, he saw me change, and they must've thought I was a witch or someth- wait, what happened to the villagers? Did you do something to them?"

"You mean did I kill them? Not at all! Just sent'em on a bit of a good 'ole goose chase back there, I'm a master of hide and seek and my servants are all the same!"

The doll he had sent for Ickol appeared by his side once again, now peppered with bullet holes.

"Thank you! H-How can I ever repay you for this? I-I'm just a scavenger! I don't have a penny to my name! Uh, would you like a sacrifice? I can make you one of those!"

"Well not at all my good man! I only need one thing from you!"

"I-I'm a femal-"

"Just tell me one thing! What went so sour with my chosen people over my leave that y'all ended up in such a sorry state as this! Your kind are meant to be kings! not some sorry band'a scavengers and thieves!"

"Well, I... can't really be sure... I've only ever met a few other dopplegangers... I know some live in tribes and such, and some try to live among humans. I tried to do that once, but since it's so hard to avoid the inquisitors now I've to stay on the run. I'm sure if we were more unified things would be better, but-"

"Say no more! I got just what you need! Your kind need to pick 'emselves up by the bootstraps! Band together 'n take charge! How's that sound?"

"O-Of course my Lord! But... I don't know how! I've not seen another of my kind in years!"

"Well I got a quick fix for that don't you worry! You'll get a tribe of your own'n soon enough you'll be a king! You better be at least!"

Original vanished into black pixels, and the Doppleganger's vision went dark. It awoke once again, certain that it had just had a vision, but unable to process events surely before looking up and seeing something that made the creature's eyes widen. There were others. No more than twelve and no less than eight, but definitely dopplegangers, each one with a subtle difference in color in comparison to the original, which was grey in contrast to their light shades of green, blue and pink. Before the doppleganger could speak into their minds, one of the others, the blue one, spoke to it.

"Are they gone?"

"W-What? Who are you?"


"How hard did you hit your head? We were all trying to steal from that town, but those villagers chased us off, remember?"

"Oh... I see..."

The doppleganger understood the gift it had been given. A tribe, the first of many Doppleganger tribes which would seek power wherever they could. In reality, they were only a number of duplicates created by Original, their memories fabricated, however to this doppleganger, they were the first opportunity in their lifetime to return to the purpose of their race, and fulfill the mandate of their god, and to rise beyond mere scavengers. To become a race of kings. Or queens, given that the doppleganger in question was in fact a female, and presumably most of her tribe short of the one genderswap counterpart were as well, but regardless, the goal was the same.

"Hey... Everyone?"

"Yeah?"

"I just had the craziest dream... and I think I've got an idea for how we might never have to steal bread again."

"Oh yeah, and what might that be?"












Meanwhile...




The envelope contained a card, made of some kind of ultra-thin white parchment, with the front of said card being covered in heart designs and hyper realistic depictions of fluffy animals. Opening the card, she saw it to be blank, however curiously, the paper began to sing.

youtube.com/watch?v=lA__rwBKzSw


Ickol almost let out a snort, but stopped. Maybe if it was someone else, but she refused to be amused by that little pest’s antics. She took the card, and ripped it into pieces, the speaker within crumpling like a tissue in her grasp. She crushed the remains of it into a powder, and burned the letter, before shaking her head and continuing her descent. Once she thought she was completely alone, she started to hum the song. It wasn’t ska, but it wasn’t half bad. She’s definitely going to have to keep an eye on that twerp, though. No need to let prying eyes be on her.
 
Action 2
Call it paranoia, but Ocaeril has been increasingly worried about Yimor's words from cycles ago, as well as his warning about the Nightbringer- That being Zyr, in his last moments. While Ocaeril in no way understood why Yimor acted so retardadly to seemingly stop a threat he could have stopped alongside the other gods, and in no way forgave him for any of the crimes he committed against his children and the other gods, he could, at the very least, see that the worry in his eyes was genuine. The Nightbringer was dangerous, and if his latest action wasn't one to prove that...Ocaeril's feelings and the lore that Yimor gave him was one to prove that.

Years have passed, and no soul has arrived in his afterlife, the land of nature and memories getting increasingly empty. And from what he could tell, the other gods had the same problem. Souls not going to where they dreamt of going when they die- And going somewhere else. Zyr's words then became apparent- He was going to restore the afterlife. Not his, but everyone's. Make them all stagnant, and steal their worshippers from them. The prayers- The cries from help from another land, they were but a whisper, Ocaeril barely hearing them, nor understanding them. Were they happy? Were they suffering? What has he done to his children?

Growling, Ocaeril could feel rage and hatred boiling inside of him once more- a semi demonic energy appearing around him as he floated above the skies, as his teeth became much sharper.

...Then, he calmed down. Don't let her have her way with you. Principally when Inqui is right here with him...

Ocaeril finally calmed down, before an idea came from his head.

Each god had a weakness- An ultimate tool able to defeating them nearly instantly. He never gave much thought, but he knows they're useful things. And he's sure that in case Zyr shows his 'true' colors, he can indeed defeat him. After all, a god of life vs a god of death isn't exactly a good match. Even if another large scale battle occurs like Yimor's, it'll be tough, and he's afraid the damage might be permanent.

As such, Ocaeril wavered his presence, before reaching out to his followers.

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Somewhere within the Empire, away from any major cities and on the heart of nature, stood a humble shrine. That shrine was one of the many, small Ocaerelian shrines scattered amongst the world, created by Druids, for Druids-- And all other worshippers, as well.

Inside that shrine, stood three figures. Two males, and one female, all of them different from one another.

The first one, with snake-like eyes and yellow pupils, wore a long white and purple outfit and possessed long hair. He had an air of grace and beautifulness around him, but at the same time, he felt creepy, even his nose being mildly snake-like.

The second one had white short hair and a massive grin. He seemed slightly older than the two and had red painting scattered all over his body, wearing a similar outfit as the first man, but with two daggers by his side, and seemingly shirtless. The sun seemed to glow into him as he absorbed its heat.

The third one, a woman, was incredibly beautiful. With a modest figure and bust, and red eyes that seemed like rubies, and long blonde hair. She had a little dot-shaped as an emerald in the middle of her forehead, and seemed to be the 'youngest.' The symbol on her forehead was one of power.

These were the so-called Tree Great First Students- The first students of Niohorg, Xerneas, and Yveltal each. Oraya, Laressa, and Jirai. No last names- travelers who were lucky enough to find them only knew that of them. Their names, and their incredible powers. Prodigies among prodigies, druids among druids. Many believed them to be heralds from Ocaeril himself, due to their incredible power on Chakra, and all else.

Currently, however...They were playing cards.

Jirai was seemingly screaming at Laressa for 'cheating again', while Oraya, the more Eastern of the two, simply shuffled his cards around, not really minding the discussion between the two. His eyes then shifted, however, as a small snake came from under his outfit, before coming closer to his ear- and seemingly...Whispering him something.

"...You two, shut it."

"Eh--?! What is it, Oraya? Do you wanna fight as well? Hey-- Is that one of my cards?!"

"Not now, Jirai. I'm getting a message."

"A message? From whom?"

"Hey- You bitch! Don't change the subject like that! I almost got broke again because of your cheating!"

"Eh?! The hell you called me, deer-face?! You're one to talk! You waste your money on girls and booze!"

Sighing, Oraya put a hand over his other hear, as he kept trying to hear what the snake was saying, before sighing.

"It's from our masters."

That single phrase made the two shut up indeed, as they looked at Oraya with wide eyes.

Their masters had gotten a direct message from the heavens above- their creator, Ocaeril, told them to send a message to their strongest students up to date, with the exception of Indra and Ashura, unless absolutely necessary. The words he said were worrying for the three masters, and the three students as well. So much so that this message was sent to them with Ocaeril directly evolving their communication to ensure nobody heard it, aside from them.

They were to travel. Travel far as they've traveled many times before. To find knowledge- Knowledge on the Nightbringer, the brother of Yimor'abaoth, Zyr'abaoth. They were to find his weakness, the tool necessary to slay him. The three were suspicious and a bit took back by this, but once they knew of the stealing of the souls of the afterlife, they were more inclined to agree. When Oraya asked them how they were able to do that, they were responded with a blessing that could become a curse.

Immortality. The resistance to nearly any and all diseases- and higher mind and knowledge. They were to live forever so they didn't fall on Zyr's hands upon death, but as such, the process could not be reverted. However, it could be worked around. They would be given schematics for a unique spell, similar to Planar Shift, where their mind and essence would go out of their bodies and towards Ocaeril's afterlife. As Ocaeril was not a god of magic, he could only gift them with the idea for it. It would take time to make it, but given their ability, he was sure they could do it, principally with all the time in the world.

Oraya had immediately accepted the deal, smiling at the thought of infinite researches. Jirai was a bit more skeptical, but when he realized it was for the good of the people, he also accepted. Larassa took a bit more to convince, but the thought of riches soon got into her mind. But, deep down, Jirai knew she was scared- but also wanted to help people truly.

As such...The three were blessed, and with their magical abilities gifted to them through Evolution, their presence became minuscule to try and make sure Zyr wouldn't notice them. As such, the search for the Nightbringer's weakness would begin.
 
Zyr’abaoth Action 2
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The Nightbringer, after deep thought, concluded He had too little information after His long imprisonment. To remedy this, He took a perfectly human shape. A little too perfect, but it worked. He then began to read histories, lore books, grimoires and books regarding a certain spear that He had once seen. He had found its twin, the Lance of Cassius, but that was an inferior weapon to the Dragonslayer.

He also sought any remaining copies of the Book of the Dragon, which contained things He did not want exposed.
 
Inqui wakes up from her nap in fear as she pops out of the basket cover and look at Ocaeril ( Celestial Speck Celestial Speck ).

"Hubbie! A spear! Power to kill me! I don't wanna die! Get it please!" she said in this slow yet panicked tone as she pointed to the location of the Dragon Slaying Spear, the weakness of Yimor that Inqui inherited
 
Inqui wakes up from her nap in fear as she pops out of the basket cover and look at Ocaeril ( Celestial Speck Celestial Speck ).

"Hubbie! A spear! Power to kill me! I don't wanna die! Get it please!" she said in this slow yet panicked tone as she pointed to the location of the Dragon Slaying Spear, the weakness of Yimor that Inqui inherited

"Wha--Huh??"

Ocaeril looked behind him, finally back in his original form as he was flying across the skies before he stopped to look at Inqui. What? Spear? What was going on? Was she in danger? Despite her slow tone, it all happened too fast, too fast for his liking, as he shook his head, and looking at Inqui, but soon going to the direction she pointed at, but not before hiding his presence again, becoming fully invisible. "Okay, okay! I'm going, I'm not letting you die, okay? Can you explain what this spear is about? Is it your weakness or something?" It was odd, given Ocaeril never heard of it. It seemed as if he didn't know that Inqui inherited Yimor's weakness, as well.

Ocaeril was fast, teleporting a few kilometers upon kilometers, following Inqui's direction towards said spear.
 
"Wha--Huh??"

Ocaeril looked behind him, finally back in his original form as he was flying across the skies before he stopped to look at Inqui. What? Spear? What was going on? Was she in danger? Despite her slow tone, it all happened too fast, too fast for his liking, as he shook his head, and looking at Inqui, but soon going to the direction she pointed at, but not before hiding his presence again, becoming fully invisible. "Okay, okay! I'm going, I'm not letting you die, okay? Can you explain what this spear is about? Is it your weakness or something?" It was odd, given Ocaeril never heard of it. It seemed as if he didn't know that Inqui inherited Yimor's weakness, as well.

Ocaeril was fast, teleporting a few kilometers upon kilometers, following Inqui's direction towards said spear.
The Arctic waste at the southern pole was freezing. It was a lifeless, primordial place.

Borealis glowed in the night... but they did not move. No winds blew, no snow fell, and the ice was clear as glass. The illusions left by Yimor’droth had grown warped and wrong, and strange shadows hulked in the distance.

Far below the surface of the ice, a shard of black was visible.
 
The Arctic waste at the southern pole was freezing. It was a lifeless, primordial place.

Borealis glowed in the night... but they did not move. No winds blew, no snow fell, and the ice was clear as glass. The illusions left by Yimor’droth had grown warped and wrong, and strange shadows hulked in the distance.

Far below the surface of the ice, a shard of black was visible.

As Ocaeril traveled in the southern ice sheet, he couldn't help but feel a certain sense of dread. He knew this place like the back of his head. After all, it was his own body. It was a part of him- He knows if anything major changes happened here. But this was...Something. He never felt so sad looking at this place. He never felt so sad looking at himself.

Ocaeril closed both his eyes, as his third one opened once again. The Rinne-Sharingan, the primordial Doujutsu, was a mutation caused by him as he received Chakra. Technically a Kekkei Genkai, it had many abilities. Mostly to copy other Jutsus and Ninjutsus, as well as other human's or humanoid being's movements, but never another Kekkei Genkai. It also had the ability to see through Genjutsu, those being the pretty term for Illusions in the Chakra World. He hoped he could see through them, given they were probably weak with Yimor being 'dead.'

3b191da14672c6a0409cf802307bca49.png

Ocaeril then focused the Rinne-Sharingan on the black shard, trying to see what it was- before going towards it, forming a massive chakra hand in case he had to dig the thing out.
 
As Ocaeril traveled in the southern ice sheet, he couldn't help but feel a certain sense of dread. He knew this place like the back of his head. After all, it was his own body. It was a part of him- He knows if anything major changes happened here. But this was...Something. He never felt so sad looking at this place. He never felt so sad looking at himself.

Ocaeril closed both his eyes, as his third one opened once again. The Rinne-Sharingan, the primordial Doujutsu, was a mutation caused by him as he received Chakra. Technically a Kekkei Genkai, it had many abilities. Mostly to copy other Jutsus and Ninjutsus, as well as other human's or humanoid being's movements, but never another Kekkei Genkai. It also had the ability to see through Genjutsu, those being the pretty term for Illusions in the Chakra World. He hoped he could see through them, given they were probably weak with Yimor being 'dead.'

3b191da14672c6a0409cf802307bca49.png

Ocaeril then focused the Rinne-Sharingan on the black shard, trying to see what it was- before going towards it, forming a massive chakra hand in case he had to dig the thing out.
Ocaeril was overloaded with sights, sounds and smells. The Lance hated Yimor’droth, hated Zyr’abaoth, hated Yinqui, hated... something far more powerful than both combined. Something light, dark, hot, cold, evil, good, a shredded rift in reality, a strobing fire, wings, eyes, claws, horns, scales, life, death
OEN’ABADROTH
THE GREAT MOTHER
 
Ocaeril was overloaded with sights, sounds and smells. The Lance hated Yimor’droth, hated Zyr’abaoth, hated Yimqui, hated... something far more powerful than both combined. Something light, dark, hot, cold, evil, good, a shredded rift in reality, a strobing fire, wings, eyes, claws, horns, scales, life, death
OEN’ABADROTH
THE GREAT MOTHER

...Ocaeril closed the Rinne-Sharingan instantly, as soon as he heard that name.

Abadroth...Isn't that Yimor's and Zyr's names combined?

Softly landing on the ground, Ocaeril stared at the lance, slowly digging it out, and staring at it, before gently picking it up. If nothing happened, he would simply stare at it, then at Inqui again. This Lance...Had story. It was something made to defeat Yimor, and possibly Zyr, and whoever this 'Oen' is. Perhaps Oen was Zyr and Yimor's mother? Perhaps it was some Outsider who popped these two catastrophes here?

A lance to defeat an error...

"Looks like we have something in common, Dragon Slayer," Ocaeril muttered, smiling softly as he held the spear. "Will you accept the planet itself as your wielder?"

He didn't expect a reply, but...He felt the need to ask.
 
...Ocaeril closed the Rinne-Sharingan instantly, as soon as he heard that name.

Abadroth...Isn't that Yimor's and Zyr's names combined?

Softly landing on the ground, Ocaeril stared at the lance, slowly digging it out, and staring at it, before gently picking it up. If nothing happened, he would simply stare at it, then at Inqui again. This Lance...Had story. It was something made to defeat Yimor, and possibly Zyr, and whoever this 'Oen' is. Perhaps Oen was Zyr and Yimor's mother? Perhaps it was some Outsider who popped these two catastrophes here?

A lance to defeat an error...

"Looks like we have something in common, Dragon Slayer," Ocaeril muttered, smiling softly as he held the spear. "Will you accept the planet itself as your wielder?"

He didn't expect a reply, but...He felt the need to ask.
This Weapon Is Not Ocaeril’s To Bear. Wield This Weapon At Your Own Risk.

When Ocaeril picked up the rusty Lance, it wobbled and flakes of black rust marked his hands.
 
This Weapon Is Not Ocaeril’s To Bear. Wield This Weapon At Your Own Risk.

Ocaeril let out a little laugh, wondering who could bear such a weapon. Maybe he'd know one day. Many of his children exist- and he knows many of their names. Perhaps, one day, he could return the lance to its rightful owner. Though...It was surprising to hear a reply from such a thing. Really, really surprising.

Looking at Inqui behind him, Ocaeril then thought of the many people on the planet. The many people suffering because of Zyr, the many people who suffered because of Yimor, and Ocaeril could almost feel a hatred similar to the spears. A hatred for those who hurt his children...And for his children, his family, his brothers, and sisters, his wife, everyone he ever cared about...And even those who don't deserve it fully, he'd take this risk.

"I may not be your wielder, but I shall take that risk. For the future. Perhaps one day I can return you to your rightful owner. Please bear with me until then."
 
Ocaeril let out a little laugh, wondering who could bear such a weapon. Maybe he'd know one day. Many of his children exist- and he knows many of their names. Perhaps, one day, he could return the lance to its rightful owner. Though...It was surprising to hear a reply from such a thing. Really, really surprising.

Looking at Inqui behind him, Ocaeril then thought of the many people on the planet. The many people suffering because of Zyr, the many people who suffered because of Yimor, and Ocaeril could almost feel a hatred similar to the spears. A hatred for those who hurt his children...And for his children, his family, his brothers, and sisters, his wife, everyone he ever cared about...And even those who don't deserve it fully, he'd take this risk.

"I may not be your wielder, but I shall take that risk. For the future. Perhaps one day I can return you to your rightful owner. Please bear with me until then."
This Weapon Must Be Claimed In Blood.
The Lance jerked and thrashed, slicing open Ocaeril’s hand. Blood dripped, filling unseen runes.
 
This Weapon Must Be Claimed In Blood.
The Lance jerked and thrashed, slicing open Ocaeril’s hand. Blood dripped, filling unseen runes.

Ocaeril didn't wince as the weapon cut his hand, but he was, indeed, surprised. He hoped Inqui wasn't seeing this- He didn't want to worry her. Allowing some more blood to come down from his hand, Ocaeril then closed the wound when he felt like enough came out, seemingly not minding it that much. Though, he had a feeling most mortals wouldn't survive the process of that amount of blood coming down. Principally on this impossibly cold place.

Just what do you have in store for me, Dragon Slayer?

Ocaeril then held the spear, awaiting this little 'ritual' to be completed.
 
Ocaeril didn't wince as the weapon cut his hand, but he was, indeed, surprised. He hoped Inqui wasn't seeing this- He didn't want to worry her. Allowing some more blood to come down from his hand, Ocaeril then closed the wound when he felt like enough came out, seemingly not minding it that much. Though, he had a feeling most mortals wouldn't survive the process of that amount of blood coming down. Principally on this impossibly cold place.

Just what do you have in store for me, Dragon Slayer?

Ocaeril then held the spear, awaiting this little 'ritual' to be completed.
Woe To He Who Uses This Weapon Foolishly.
The Lance fell silent, save for the occasional wobble in Yinqui’s direction.
 
Woe To He Who Uses This Weapon Foolishly.
The Lance fell silent, save for the occasional wobble in Yinqui’s direction.

Watching as the spear fell silent, Ocaeril held the lance back from Yinqui, before nodding once. A moment of silence fell, before he tightened his grip once more, before twirling it around, and testing it. Seeing how its capabilities- and how it works. If he could learn its powers, its potential, then perhaps...Perhaps he can use it to defeat Zyr, in case the day ever comes. To stop this 'Oen' from returning.

O' blade, show me your power.

...Asking nicely could always work, anyways. The lance seemed alive in some way, and if he could work with it, in a genuine manner, then perhaps it could be truly his partner, one day.
 
Watching as the spear fell silent, Ocaeril held the lance back from Yinqui, before nodding once. A moment of silence fell, before he tightened his grip once more, before twirling it around, and testing it. Seeing how its capabilities- and how it works. If he could learn its powers, its potential, then perhaps...Perhaps he can use it to defeat Zyr, in case the day ever comes. To stop this 'Oen' from returning.

O' blade, show me your power.

...Asking nicely could always work, anyways. The lance seemed alive in some way, and if he could work with it, in a genuine manner, then perhaps it could be truly his partner, one day.
A hissing crackle, and black rust-rot dripped onto the ice. Searing, chemical smells rose from the ice, and a ringing noise filled his ear.

...Ice wasn’t meant to rot.
 
A hissing crackle, and black rust-rot dripped onto the ice. Searing, chemical smells rose from the ice, and a ringing noise filled his ear.

...Ice wasn’t meant to rot.

...Wow.

Ocaeril quickly took a few steps back, those 'few' steps being enough for him to cross 3 football fields in just one go. It was best to be safe and hear Lance's advice about its power-- as it was certainly great. It was clear it somehow affected the chemical composition and the very base that formed the ice, either through magic, science, or most likely, a combination of both. Ocaeril felt as if it's true power was nowhere near to being revealed, and he might be wrong, but the spear showed great power already.

A part of him was tempted to evolve it-- but he held it back. It's best to play safe, in case absolutely necessary.

Opening a portal with Space-Time Ninjutsu behind him, Ocaeril smiled, before looking at the spear.

Thank you.

Giving Yimqui a pat on her head, Ocaeril then disappeared behind the portal...
 
Zyr’abaoth Conversational
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The Stygian Hunger stalked through the Camelot Demiplane library, dark eyes scanning the shelves. Not seeing the Book, He phased through the wall and into the next isle. At last! The Book of the Dragon!

The cover was of nondescript leather, gold tracery illustrating a dragon coiled on the cover. Zyr’abaoth opened the book, delicately flipping through the pages... until He saw the Ritual. With a hiss, He Voided the image from existence and started running with the book out of the library.

Celestial Speck Celestial Speck
You don’t have to respond yet, but I decided to post this while it was fresh in my head.
 
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Zyr’abaoth Conversational
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The Stygian Hunger stalked through the Camelot library, dark eyes scanning the shelves. Not seeing the Book, He phased through the wall and into the next isle. At last! The Book of the Dragon!

The cover was of nondescript leather, gold tracery illustrating a dragon coiled on the cover. Zyr’abaoth opened the book, delicately flipping through the pages... until He saw the Ritual. With a hiss, He Voided the image from existence and started running with the book out of the library.

Celestial Speck Celestial Speck
You don’t have to respond yet, but I decided to post this while it was fresh in my head.

Zyr, in fact, could not pick up the book. Much less void the image out of existence. Somehow, it seemed that this book, containing his weakness, existed entirely outside of his influence.​
 
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Zyr, in fact, could not pick up the book. Much less void the image out of existence. Somehow, it seemed that this book, containing his weakness, existed entirely outside of his influence.​
Zyr cursed.

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Zombie thrall!
Zyr resurrected a person, chosen for a willingness to help, who would pick up the book and carry it with him in exchange for living again. He would also function as a manservant, carrying stuff and generally helping Zyr.
 
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Zyr cursed.

Action 3!
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Zombie thrall!
Zyr resurrected a person, chosen for a willingness to help, who would pick up the book and carry it with him in exchange for living again. He would also function as a manservant, carrying stuff and generally helping Zyr.

The zombie was instantly incinerated by the demiplane's magical defenses. This may end up being more complicated than Zyr initially thought...​
 
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The zombie was instantly incinerated by the demiplane's magical defenses. This may end up being more complicated than Zyr initially thought...​
Zyr hissed.

...No problem, calm down, don’t exPLODE!
A shriek echoed through the corridor of the Library, as the Nightbringer stamped His foot.

Calm dark Void, calm dark Void...

Think, think... aha! Zyr summoned a set of tongs from a forge in Camelot, and picked up the Book.
 
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GM Update:
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Zyr hissed.

...No problem, calm down, don’t exPLODE!
A shriek echoed through the corridor of the Library, as the Nightbringer stamped His foot.

Calm dark Void, calm dark Void...

Think, think... aha! Zyr summoned a set of tongs from a forge in Camelot, and picked up the Book.

The tongs lift the book off the shelf, although moments after, the entire, skyscraper-high bookshelf begins to rumble, a few ancient tomes falling to the ground at terminal velocity and putting decent-sized dents in the metallic floor. The sound of metal on metal could also be heard as turret-like devices sprang out of the ground, magical staves rising from the defense towers to fire magic missiles at Zyr, which themselves inflicted little less than a slight stinging sensation, along with warmth as a number of similar defense towers began spewing magical flames in his direction. Momements later, a number of rolling metal spheres could be seen approaching the shrunken-down Nightbringer, unfurling into golden golems of various sizes and shapes, all distinctly aggressive-looking.

iu


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Meanwhile, in the palace of Camelot, an enchanted bell, engraved with dozens of runes, began to ring as though it were the bell of a clocktower, alerting Tanya and her servants to the presence of intruders in the Library. It rang five times, signifying the power of the being within. BlackCat-055 BlackCat-055
 
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GM Update:
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The tongs lift the book off the shelf, although moments after, the entire, skyscraper-high bookshelf begins to rumble, a few ancient tomes falling to the ground at terminal velocity and putting decent-sized dents in the metallic floor. The sound of metal on metal could also be heard as turret-like devices sprang out of the ground, magical staves rising from the defense towers to fire magic missiles at Zyr, which themselves inflicted little less than a slight stinging sensation, along with warmth as a number of similar defense towers began spewing magical flames in his direction. Momements later, a number of rolling metal spheres could be seen approaching the shrunken-down Nightbringer, unfurling into golden golems of various sizes and shapes, all distinctly aggressive-looking.

iu


iu


iu

Meanwhile, in the palace of Camelot, an enchanted bell, engraved with dozens of runes, began to ring as though it were the bell of a clocktower, alerting Tanya and her servants to the presence of intruders in the Library. It rang five times, signifying the power of the being within. BlackCat-055 BlackCat-055
“Holy Me.”

Zyr began to run through the maze of books, bolts of Void striking the golems. The Nightbringer retained his mortal guise, but the robes He had stolen weren’t so lucky.

Cursing all the way, Zyr blasted the doors of the demiplane open.
 
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GM Update:
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GM Roll: 15

“Holy Me.”

Zyr began to run through the maze of books, bolts of Void striking the golems. The Nightbringer retained his mortal guise, but the robes He had stolen weren’t so lucky.

Cursing all the way, Zyr blasted the doors of the demiplane open.

The void-bolts seemed to have little effect on the golems, them clearly having been shielded against even extremely powerful magics so as to withstand even those of a god's avatar. Still, some of the smaller, spider-like constructs stagger and crumble into assorted components upon being struck. The turrets, however, continued to fire at Zyr, at one point managing to knock him off his feet as the Golems continued their approach. Most, however, were slow enough that Zyr could return to his feet without them gaining much ground, however upon reaching the gates of the library and blasting them open to reveal the portal, he realizes that the tongs he carries are empty, and that the book had fallen a few meters behind him, with the golems gathering around it and one of the spiders picking it up in small pincer-like claws.​
 

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