Fantasy Eisar: A World Abandoned By God

[LostHaven]

"How many does this make?"

"Three."

"You've been counting? I stopped at one~"

"Yeah, I expected you to do jack and shit. Why do I even think thoughts at this point?"

"I don't want to hear shit coming from a terrorist, you fucking snake."

"Oh, and you were any better, miss Executioner."

"Executor."

"Same difference."

"Hmm, we shouldn't argue~ What do you think, Forever-Man?"

"This is pointless..."

"Ever the nihilist, I see."

"We should be placing our efforts to our work, not petty squabbling."

"Right~ Or else, nothing changes. Once again, our tragedy replays."

"As it always does."

"Hmm. We'll push through this time."

"We'll burn destiny to the ground."

 

[LostHaven]

Da'at

Ah, you're finally awake.
​

"It seems you've met an untimely end."

A blinding light, then darkness. One moment, there was blood in your mouth and pain wracking every inch of your body, down to your bones. Then, in another, it was gone. Instead of the doors to Heaven, or the highway to Hell, you find yourself standing at a withering altar, facing what seemed to be a crumbling statue, that was somehow able to speak, despite clearly being an inanimate object. It emitted a soft, blue glow that offered some respite from the damp and unpleasant darkness. But, upon closer inspection, one would find that they were standing at the end of a long church hall.

Towering pillars, once a shimmering ivory had become tainted with a sick, jaundice hue, and an unwelcoming, harsh light pierces its shattered mosaic windows. Long rows of oaken chairs had rotted away to a damp and diseased black. Faith has long died. This church has been derelict for years, decades, even centuries. Even the talking statue of its 'God' had all but given away, cracked and so fragile that what remained of it looked as if it would dissipate to dust at the slightest touch. But, from what remains of it, the 'God' was carved with a vague, muscular form that more than likely depicted it as male. It was... a generic design, a boring image of perfect human form, as if the people had little idea of the 'God's' visage.

"I have... taken the liberty of putting your souls back together. This is no longer the world you remember." That's right, the broken statue could speak. Its voice was deep, but calm, monotone, even. Where in Hell was this? Purgatory? And who is the entity? Were they here to judge your life and deliver the appropriate sentence? "I am Da'at. And as for where you are... This is Eisar," They don't elaborate further, but does add an additional, though probably obvious detail. "And not the afterlife." Da'at pauses as they ponder what next to say.

"If it is easier for you to understand, think of it as... I believe you would better understand it if I explain your current situation as an Isekai?" The pronunciation was dreadful, but the message was clear enough. "I am sorry for denying you your eternal rest. My time is running thin. Please, listen to this request of mine."

Yep. Cliches all the way through.

PlusUltra ThatWhichShouldBe Cumulonimbus The Grand Fool BFabulous

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Matthew Sanli

---

Death wasn't what he'd expected it to be. He stands before an altar, looking it up and down with curious eyes. He'd expected a heavy-handed judgement, of some kind. Or perhaps, eternal and perpetual boredom in some kind of liminal half-state. The Divine was ever-distant in life, why would death be that much different? But instead, as he listens to the words of the statue, he finds that Death was not an end. Death was a door, and this Statue, this being... they were offering him something. Even as cracked and broken as they were. The storyteller is given a name for the strange entity. Da'at. A word with many connotations, and all of them could mean something. Or it might mean nothing at all. If the Statue was any authority on the matter, this was a whole new world, and what insights from earth myth and esoterica could be applied here?

The young man smiles at the statue, holding up a hand and eyeing it with wonder and joy. Because for the first time in a long, long time... it didn't hurt. No bone-deep pain in his body, no rasping breath or clouded vision. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like. It was... so very liberating. He resists the urge to jump, to dance, to sing in joy, as he turns his attention back to Da'at. An Isekai... brought to another world for some purpose. Was he here to save it? Or to doom it? He'd have to find out.

"... A second chance at a life is a gift is a gift beyond measure. Tell us what you want us to do."

 

[Cumulonimbus]

Actias Luna.

IC post #1 | death would be a welcomed relief

Actias welcomed death, but it did not welcome them.

It was a final release that they did not deserve. And they didn't get it.

Maybe they never will.

They blink. Once, twice, thrice. The darkness greets them.

Then, unexpectedly, their body returns to its senses. They harshly meet the ground with their limbs and they jerk their head up. Sucking in a deep breath, they promptly gag from the taste of the air. Mosaic windows like broken promises surround them, and a jarring light shines through, temporarily blinding them. A deteriorating statue towers over Actias, emitting an eerie blue glow as cold as the ground they’re sprawled over. Actias forces themselves to pull in another breath.

This certainly isn't heaven.

So where the hell am I?

Slowly, they stand up. They refuse to prostrate before this being, even if they are the true god.

They're blind to put me in hell. Did they not see my suffering? Did they not see me give and never take? Did they not see me die with guilt and shame poisoning my body? Actias forces themselves to take a deep breath.

Now is not the time to brood, they think. Yet, they fall deep into a pit of memories they forced down. it feels like they've been brought back to life. Their old life, in which they chose to be a fool and dwell in peace despite all the war surrounding them. It forced them to kill to stay alive. It left them ruthlessly lying in a bed of flowers, hoping and praying that their death would be quick so they could be happy again.

Life is the last thing Actias wants. It’s a two-way mirror. It’s a lie.

Then, the statue speaks.

They speak, tiredness lining their deep, unvaried voice. They speak of madness. They speak of liberty. They speak of eternal rest. They speak of the place they stand in. They speak of the world that no longer used to be.

"This is Eisar," the deity says, their gentle blue glow overriding the tarnished pillars surrounding them.

Actias is no longer the person they used to be. They fought tirelessly. They fought mindlessly. They fought themselves, and they ended up dying. Slowly, painfully, lying over bloodstained petals as red as their rage. The entity introduces itself - Da'at. The air is tense and fragile, hanging with opportunities far too high up to reach. But Actias will reach those possibilities, whether it be through burning the ceiling down or using a ladder.

"My time is running thin. Please, listen to this request of mine."

Do they have a choice? No. Are they intrigued? Yes. Perhaps this is their redemption. Or someone else's redemption and Actias is merely a pawn in the game. They glance down at the gleaming floor - it's checkered, like a chessboard. Subconsciously, they pull both their feet in to fit in the square.

Raising their head up, they swiftly tie their hair up into a ponytail. There is work to be done. Actias nods towards the entity in front of them. Speak, Da'at. They're not ready, but if they wait till they’re ready they'd probably decompose here.

Determination laces Actias’s posture. The feeling is quite foreign to them, but it doesn't matter.

Because at the other end of the chessboard, even a pawn can become a queen.

MOOD: Determined | LOCATION: Elysium Church | INTERACTION(S): Da'at

coded by weldherwings.

 

[BFabulous]

Chrystal could feel the song of life slipping away. The metallic taste of blood then nothing. When she opened her eyes again she took in the visage of the dilapidated church, the overgrowth, the aging windows & pews, and the cracking statue that was now speaking to them directly. At first, Chrystal assumed it was just a near-death illusion and she was actually on the way to the hospital back on earth, but the feeling of the cold stone under her bare hands & feet and the smell of moldy woody told her differently.

Chrystal finally noticed she wasn't the only person Da'at had summoned. She wondered what made them so special. Why did she have to die? But as soon as Da'At implied this was similar to an isekai situation she figure that this so-called god had no power over Earth, if anything it was probably a separate domain. Without thinking she stood up and joined the other two, "I feel like punching something, but I won't use whatever power you gave us to hurt innocent people!"Chrystal wasn't very familiar with the isekai gene of media but she knew the basics. She hoped that this god was on the right side of divinity and wasn't using them for conquer & conquest or for entertainment. Looking over at the two who jumped at the opportunity she fully took in their appearance. Both were masculine in appearance but she knew better than to judge a book by its cover. The first to speak seemed to be excited to be back alive, especially with his words about a second chance at life. The second masculine figure was a bit more straight-laced and determined, without saying a word the person readied themselves for hard work. Flipping her hair she looked towards Da'at waiting on an explanation.

 

[PlusUltra]

A blank androgynous silhouette looked around with confusion trying to piece together what just happened while taking their new alien surroundings. Sure there was some strange guy speaking but they were somewhat preoccupied with how came to be here.

Trying to breathe deeply she went through the memories that led up to this moment. They were doing a stream, then there was a tyre screech, bright light from her side view, a smash and then...they were here?. Blinking the realisation hit them, and they died. but they were here, but dead....but here? wait what did this guy just say?.

Grabbing there head for a moment they seemed to snap to attention and pointy straight at him "ISEKAI?! They saturate the damn market with those things and even in death you can't get away from them?" seeming to fume a while longer with several expletives and weird movements they ended the display with a stomp of their foot.

"Fine! What do you want us to do?! Let me guess, save the world from the demon king?, find a magic wizard to get home? acknowledge god is real? get to Level 100 of a tower?"

 

[Cumulonimbus]

Actias Luna.

IC post #2 | The Barnes Opening

The worst opening an individual can do in a chess game is the Barnes Opening.

The Barnes Opening denies other pieces in the game movement and even compromises the King's safety. Actias feels as though they've been thrust into a chess game where the player, the one with the most control - Da'at - has just played the Barnes Opening. They press their mouth to a thin line - it's a huge assumption that Da'at is the one in control, especially considering their... ah, state. The vessel Da'at resides in has apparently seen better days, the cracks on it a delicate spiderweb, ready to fall apart at a moment's notice. Actias sighs and turns their attention to their surroundings.

Observing the room, they notice some picturesque people scattered throughout - so far, they'd only seen three. A masculine figure with dirty-blonde hair and a tall frame stands confidently, expecting an answer from Da'at. Two other feminine figures stand about and survey the church. One of them has deep mahogany skin and long, striking brown hair, and the other has skin like coffee with too much milk, along with pearlescent hair that gleams in the light. Glasses sit on their nose neatly. Damn, they're all way taller than me, Actias faintly thinks to themselves.

Unfortunately, Actias hadn't quite caught what the three had said due to Actias's senses being completely overloaded. However, their positions spoke a lot about them. The seemingly male person stood straight and ready, while the feminine person with the glasses had a threatening stance, foot choking the ground. Actias nods approvingly - truthfully, they'd felt the same when Da'at broke the ridiculous news but wasn't able to express themselves properly. The other individual had simply flicked their hair back after stating something and now waited patiently for Da'at to continue.

A pack of wildcards, with a lot to offer, I hope. Actias feels something flare up in themselves - fear? Horror? Excitement? It didn't matter. It wasn't the ideal way to meet these people, and whether or not they're worth Actias's attention - well, only time can tell.

"Well, Da'at?" the words didn't feel quite right being spoken, so Actias stops there.

For now, they're going to focus on how to use this disadvantaged opening to their advantage.

MOOD: Curious, worried | LOCATION: Elysium Church | INTERACTION(S): (Observed) Da'at, Chrystal, Clementine, Matthew

coded by weldherwings.

 

[LostHaven]

Da'at

Church Ruins | "My hourglass has all but run dry..."​

In face of the variety of strange characters, varying reactions, the God, Da'at gave little reaction. Or, perhaps, it would be more appropriate to say that its thoughts and motives were far too alien for an ordinary human of Earth to grasp at? There was a tone of desperation in Da'at's voice, that much was clear enough. Yet, in midst the desperation was mixed heavy notes of defeat, of tiredness, as if they had already seen the outcome of this last struggle before they fade to nothing. Were these revived mere pawns on a chessboard, perhaps destined for something greater, or were they naught but the last pieces left, already on the one-way road to defeat?

"Epoch ago, mankind enacted upon Heaven a great 'sin'," Da'at explains. "The price of which is far more grave than they could ever imagine." The writer, Matthew, seemed all too happy to be reborn into a body unmarred by disease and illness. But, unfortunately for him, Eisar itself akin to a body, withered and at the brink of death, and he was but a single cell. A second life was a gift beyond measure, yet here in Eisar, death was a blessing by Heaven.

Next, the girl, 'Clementine Dempsey'. She seemed all too tired of the overused trope that she, in death, had found herself in. If only salvation were so simple as climbing a spire, killing a Demon King, or finding some great and powerful wizard to bring them home. Da'at didn't wish to say it, but even should Eisar be saved, bringing them home was not so simple a task.

Then, Chrystal, ever stalwart in righteousness, apparently. Da'at had forgotten, but Earth really was that kind of place, wasn't it? A far kinder world compared to Eisar, without doubt. She loudly proclaimed that she would never exert force upon the innocent. Too bad. Here, innocence was a sin, a fatal flaw that would only get yourself killed. Kindness was weakness, and righteousness was an obstacle to survival. They would learn that with time, or perhaps, with luck, Eisar would be kinder to them, the outsiders.

As for Actias, well... They lived a life of torment, of anguish. Once upon a time, Da'at may have felt sorry for them. But, they had already seen much, and suffering was all but commonplace. Each dwelled in their self-pity, doubt, ignorant to the fact that everyone else suffered all the same. If there was a Heaven, one's pain and suffering would not tip the scale against their sins. If there was a God, still, they'd probably be numb to human pain. But, perhaps it was their own suffering that let them notice the depths of Da'at's desperation. The God's hopelessness. And yet, rather than empathy, they would only think on how to manipulate that desperation. Turn it to their own advantage against him. Da'at didn't hold it against him, though. For this too, Da'at knew, was human nature.

And well, the last one, Kael, still seemed to stunned to really speak. Their death was a slow and agonizing one, so Da'at allowed them the time to mentally collect themself.

"Heaven has closed its doors to this realm, and so too has the Grim Reaper departed. The church upon which you stand is situated in Elysium, the last remnants of the living. The rest is naught but wastes, ravaged by the tireless undead, shepherded by the Necromancer. Perhaps, it is divine punishment that all life be wiped clean, so that Eisar may restart from a sinless, empty slate. But, to have the living struggle, for neighbors to murder each other just for the chance of tomorrow, it is far too cruel. So, whether to save what remains, or let it all burn, is ultimately your decision." As the statue speaks, the gentle blue glow around it seems to grow ever fainter, like a dying candle, threatening to snuff out.

"But please, I beg of you. Save us."

 

[Cumulonimbus]

Actias Luna.

IC post #3 | not again...

Da'at finishes speaking, desperation dancing around his voice like a King on a chessboard with only pawns remaining on his side.

Reminds me of when I died, thinks Actias. A small flame of rage burns violently in them, engulfing any logic and emotion. Da'at, really? You must've seen what happened in my life. And you want me to do this again? Save something that's going to perish anyway? They force it down, violently shaking their head. They really need to stop thinking about what happened and need to start thinking about what could happen. Actias shuffles awkwardly. If the dying deity chose someone like Actias of all things, he must've been quite desperate. They wonder if Da'at can read their mind. Childishly, they think to themselves: It's pent-up grief, that's what it is - nothing else. I don't mean this anger. Actias rubs their eyes tiredly. Were they really doing this? In a chess game the pawn can only move forward or stay still. They were unsure of what to do. Moving forward is too painful. Staying still is too restricting.

In the war, they'd been cold and calculating - too caught up in trying to stay alive than save others. Looking at it now, Actias thinks it was quite selfish. If they'd known they would've ended up like this from the start, they would've tried to save as many lives as they could. But such is the nature of life. The other side of Actias reasons. It'd be cruel because they all were going to die anyway. But if Actias had looked at it like that from the start, then what was the point of living? The point of living isn't to die. It's to live out experiences. They'd never gotten that chance, but now they could. They should be behaving like the person with the dirty-blonde hair - looking forward to it instead of looking back.

They should be thanking Da'at. But they also want to scream at him so badly. One part of Actias is glad that they were chosen so that the soldiers who fought beside them could rest. The other part wanted to curl up and die if that was even possible in Eisar. Life just happens to be like that sometimes. And maybe death is too.

Save or destroy, Da'at had proposed. Hmm. Actias steps forward. Save or destroy?

They were in a checkmate. Almost. Something in Actias thrums, a distant melody. They weren't sure why they were feeling so restless - but something keeps urging them to move on, to step forward.

Something tells them they're only a few moves away from the end of the board. Their numbers are dwindling, but in this world, less might end up being more.

"Tell us how, and we will."

MOOD: Anticipating | LOCATION: Elysium Church | INTERACTION(S): Da'at (Observed) Matthew

coded by weldherwings.

 

[PlusUltra]

The whispy silhouette of Clementine's face palmed as the being began the flowery explanation, her hand slowly slipping down before taking several more deep breaths with a sigh as she started to listen.

"Ok so translation, Some idiots messed up and people who have no idea what even happened are paying for it, So you picked some random dead people to fix it for them?, Did someone wish for nobody to die or something and then monkey paw did the rest? Since I think your trying to say is life and death got messed up but this Necromancer guy seems like a symptom taking advantage, not the actual cause that needs fixing....anywhere close?"

They die from some idiot crashing a truck through a 5th-story window, she finds out nobody got the god thing right, and now she's being asked to save the world alongside a bunch of other random people. Can dead people get headaches? She really feels like she's about to get one from all this, she hasn't even had a moment to digest all this really before this guy dropped a world-shattering revelation on them right after finding out that yes there was something after death.

 

[The Grand Fool]

Fire That's all he saw. Everywhere. Smoke. Pain. The smell. It was like BBQ. Flashes of faces, smiles, laughter, all laced with mind shattering pain. Happy birthday son, your seven now! The flaming red and orange drifted into darkness. I sorry, but your no fun anymore, we're over! Laughter, pain. Smiles, pain. His lost feeling of his hands and feet. He stopped feeling anything. Honey, I'm pregnant! We're going to have a child. Laughter, regret, smiles, pain. Death.

He looked. It was dark. It was cold. The statute. It was blue. It spoke. Laughter, regret, smiles, pain. Save the world? What world? There is only fire. Wait... There is no fire? Where's the fire? The light? The heat? The pain? Laughter, regret, smiles, pain. Isekai? What? It was vaguely familiar. The word was laced with enjoyment, but... Laughter, regret, smiles pain. Eisar?

His vison cleared. Memories flowed back. He was seven, then thirteen, then twenty, twenty five. The parties. They were what he remember most. Summer, forth of July, birthday parties. The break up. The moment his wife told him she was pregnant at a private BBQ. Wait? When did he marry? Ahhh, yes. She was also a fire fighter. Did they have the child? No... he... died? The ravine, the fire, he burnt to death?

He looked around, the columns, the dampness, the cold, he took it all in. He looked at his hands. They were big and... green? He felt his face, two of his teeth jutted out of his mouth.

"What... am I?" He asked quietly.

He looked around and saw several other people. They all looked human. One looked happy, other sullen, the rest were annoyed or aloof looking. He looked at the statue.

"It would of been more merciful to have wiped our memories of death," he said, glaring at the statue. "Burning to death while having happy memories overlay horrendous pain is very cruel way to come back to your senses with."

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Matthew Sanli

---

The statue was weary, and beaten down. Every word was filled with that sort of desperate pleading, that only those who had lost everything but the embers could speak with. They had to have been powerful, right? To bring his soul, and the soul of others here. And yet... They were spent. Yes, that was the impression Matthew was getting. The writer frowns a bit, as Da'at begins to explain. How desperate did one have to be, to expend what little strength they had... on anyone else but those of their own world? How far had men fallen, in the enactment of their Sin? Was their only hope... that someone else, anyone else, than that of their fallen world could change it?

He supposed it made a certain kind of twisted sense. If the world was so broken that it was but dust and ash, scrabbling beasts in the skin of men... Who here would think to hope? To try for something, anything better? As the statue goes on about 'divine punishment', 'letting it all burn', Matthew... he can only shake his head. Despair was something he had never accepted, not in life, and now? Certainly not in death. Even if this entity, this... god? Spirit? Whatever they were, even if they had all but given up... How could he do the same? Without even trying?

He gives the fading glow of the statue a gentle smile.

"... Rest easy. I don't know about the rest of us. But even though you didn't ask, even though you didn't dare say it... I'll bring this rotten, fallen world of yours... hope. However that has to be done. Whatever trials and tribulations come with it. I expect it won't be a very gentle journey. But then again, what great things in this world come without struggle?"

 

[BFabulous]

Chrystal mulled Da'at's words around in her head for a minute. She hadn't really noticed the green orc, maybe she was distracted by the others asking questions or assumed they were just another moss patch. They were not too happy to be brought back. They, along with another, seemed to be upset that they had been brought back, while Chrystal herself wasn't too upset as she had already made her peace in her final moments, but did have a few people she wish she could have said bye to. Brushing off her own feelings Chrystal walked over to the Orc,"I know this sucks...or a dream. since we lowkey got summoned to clean up some dipshit's else's mess, but look on the bright side? Uh...Umm...?"The young woman pondered for a second and then placed her hand on the Orc's shoulder,"I don't know what you did in your past life, but maybe this is another chance to put some good out in the world!"

Turning back to Da'at Chrystal glared at him,"First off, I understand this world needs help, but you can't beg for help after you have already dragged our asses here! What if we are some sick bastards who end up going to down a dark road? How are we supposed to help this world? Do we get some divine equipment or power, at this moment I don't think I could sing the decay away...Unless I can?"

Chrystal wasn't to happy to go on this adventure but the potential for magic and powers did excite her. Just before she was an unjolly green giant which left her wondering what she could do.

 

[LostHaven]

• In Elysium
• The Necropolis Stirs

• 
  An Abandoned Church
  As expected, despite the 'God's' pleas, the Otherworlders were still none too pleased at their situation, and even less so at the gargantuan labor that had been dropped unto their shoulders without as much as their consent. Though Da'at had said it as nicely as possible, the underlying message was pretty much clear. They'd suffer in this lifeless world regardless of what they felt, and if they wanted out, they're pretty much out of options besides stumbling aimlessly around the place until they found a clue, because as it stands, they probably weren't getting one from this 'God'.
  
  At the very least, their ability to keep a 'level' head was commendable. Most would have probably have crumbled from shock and the like, but one was still nonchalant enough to criticize Da'at's clichéd tale, and another lectured him on the recklessness of their actions. Unfortunately, Da'at was no longer there to hear them. Time unnecessarily speaking out on their own was also precious time burned from Da'at rapidly emptying hourglass, and by the time the Otherworlders had finished speaking, the gentle glow of the broken statue had all but faded.
  
  Had Da'at just simply tired of their prattle and left them to fend for their own? Somehow, even if the thought crossed their minds, the Otherworlders could instinctively sense that Da'at was... well, 'no longer there'. In fact, from the very start, the 'God's' existence had been faint, like a candlelight flickering on a burnt end, threatening to die out at any given moment.
  
  No, rather, it was more akin to a flame relit upon a spent candle, the last gasp of something long overdue for oblivion. Perhaps, it had been a miracle that Da'at appeared before them at all. Faith had long died, and if the fictions of their own world was any indicator, a God without believers was as good as dead.
  
  The Otherworlders weren't given much time to ponder, though. Perhaps, they had been too absorbed in their interaction with Da'at to previously notice, or some sort of magic had been protecting the Church grounds, but the Otherworlders would soon begin to take note of the clamor outside. Cries. The clashing of metal. Unpleasant sounds of bones cracking and claws rending wet flesh. In fact, the 'harsh light' that had been pouring through the shattered stained glass was less 'harsh' and more... red, and unnatural. Next came a loud banging at the wooden gates of the church.
  
  Needless to say, the rotted wooden gates didn't last. At the first bang, the wood shatters to splinters and falls through, revealing a tall, humanoid figure standing at the entrance. It was large, grey, muscular, adorned with a mess of twisted horns protruding from its head and clothed in nothing but a loincloth and a belt with numerous skulls hanging from its hip. A picture-perfect demon, swinging around a large and unwieldly sword. An entourage of imps follow, the large demon's blazing red eyes scanning the Church halls before settling unto the Otherworlders. Then, it lets out a horrid roar that sounded like what could only be described as an enraged lion with a cactus stuck in its throat, sending waves of its foul spit and breath at its to-be victims.
  
  A tutorial boss that was blatantly too powerful for the stage at which it appears at.
  
  Fucking classic.
  
• The Necromancer
  The End of the World | "I see. A reliquary has surfaced."
  
  
  ​
  Tap. Tap. Tap.
  
  Rhythmic, metallic taps ring across the silent, desolate halls. Atop a black throne, the Necromancer ponders as he taps his fingers against the cold, stone armrest of his throne. One, two, three, repeat. One, two, three, repeat again. His eyes gaze off into the distant darkness, the hallway so dimly lit that one could not see to the end of it before pitch black consumes the hall. A loud rumble stirs the Necromancer from his thoughts, however. With a great creak, the towering doors to the throne room swing open, letting light pour into the long chamber. Footsteps follow as a figure slowly makes their way down the long walkway toward the Lord of the Dead.
  
  Behind his mask, the Necromancer's eyes narrow as their vision settles upon his visitor. Long, needlessly flowy bits of pitch black cloth that serve no practical purpose. Hardly modest pieces of 'clothing' that constitutes more as underwear than anything, almost barely covering what needed to be hidden, as dictated by common decency. And, as if it could make up for her lack of body armor, this woman donned the gauntlets and graves of her armor. The Necromancer didn't even need the blackened wings to identify the Death Knight. "Camael. I did not request your presence," he utters, voice utterly cold.
  
  "My Lord~" the fallen angel replies with a smile, offering the Necromancer a deep bow at such an angle that it wasn't even subtle that they were clearly flashing their cleavage. The Necromancer ignored it.
  
  "Speak," he demands, completely uninterested.
  
  "Don't be so cold~ It's important~" the Death Knight chirps, eliciting only a disgruntled sigh from the Necromancer. "There was a surge in God's power within Elysium's walls."
  
  That single sentence causes the Necromancer to suddenly sit up from his throne, now fully alert. "You're certain?"
  
  "Of course~! I know a trace of God when I see one. If you'll allow me, I will immediately investigate."
  
  "Mhmm," the Necromancer nods before once again slumping back on his throne with his head against one arm. "I will have Lance and Aerendyl do so."
  
  "What-!" Camael begins to protest, which was swiftly shot down by the Necromancer.
  
  "Tell Lance to lead an undead horde to Elysium. Aerendyl will enter Elysium and confirm the source of God's power."
  
  "But why not-"
  
  "And what do you plan to do? Charge headfirst into Elysium, demanding that they surrender whatever left the trace of God? You'll be annihilated in a heartbeat by a dragon."
  
  "No I won't-"
  
  "You're dismissed. Go inform Lance and Aerendyl."
  
  Sensing that their argument was futile, Camael lowers her head, visibly frustrated. "I will do so."
  
  The Necromancer lets out a long sigh as the doors to the throne room slam shut, once again leaving him alone in darkness. He pitied the angel - truly. Sometimes, to escape reality, to never have face the bottomless pit one has fallen to, people turn to ever increasing heights of depravity to distract themselves from ever gazing into that abyss. It never dulls the pain, only masks it for a short while. In the end, it never leaves the back of their mind, no matter how desperately they repress and distract themselves from it Angels were no exception, it seemed. Though, sometimes, he wished she had chosen a different pit of depravity to throw herself into. He hadn't felt the cold in a long, long time, and neither did his Death Knights, but Camael could make do with a large coat, for a start.
  
  "But there's no-one left to forgive our sins, anyway."
  

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Matthew Sanli

---

The storyteller watches as the glow fades away, somehow knowing that a chapter had closed. There would be no more words from the heavens. Only silence. Just as there normally was, really. So there was no sense of loss that Sanli felt, as he considered his situation. Just... a sense of mystery. There was so much that yet needed to be explained, but Sanli hadn't the slightest idea how to even begin to ask the right questions. Then came the sound of battle, creeping in at the edge of hearing. The sound of clashing blades, of cries of death, of chaos. Sanli turns, something stirring in him, guiding his hands and feet as he brings them, instinctively, up into a stance. Prepared to fight, if need be, to stand firm and-

When he realizes the colossal size of the demon he was facing, his reasonable mind reasserts itself.

Some fights just couldn't be won.

BFabulous Cumulonimbus PlusUltra The Grand Fool
Sanli immediately turns to the large green man next to him, sighing for a moment. Time to gamble, it seemed. He speaks up, asking her for her aid quickly, even as he himself moves to lift up one end of a pew. His muscles seem far stronger than they once were, bolstered by an invisible force, but he didn't have *time* to consider what it meant. Not right now. They needed to get the fuck out of here, yesterday.

"Hey, help me get the other end of this pew up through a window. We'll use it as a ramp and get the fuck out through there, we can't face that thing. Not as we are now."

 

[Cumulonimbus]

Actias Luna.

IC post #4 | questions unanswered

Da'at's glow slowly fades away, leaving questions unanswered.

Actias grits their teeth. No guidance. Nowhere to go, they think. Somehow, a pang of sadness hits Actias. Da'at was a sentient being - an entity with thoughts. Did they have feelings? Did they hold another close, ever? No matter. Now they have to focus on themselves and the others around them. What has happened can't be changed. But how they act now can be controlled. Lingering hesitantly, Actias approaches the green and bulky person - no, orc - from behind and attempts to start a conversation.

"Excu-"

Actias stops mid-sentence as senses overwhelm them - the screams of death, pain, and destruction. Cries for help left unanswered. Cacophonic sounds pushing them into overdrive, like nails on a chalkboard. Their breath hitches. Then they see the creature towering at the doorway. Twisted, ready to pounce. Despite all that they had went through before death, here they were, caught completely unprepared. Actias' hand throbs. With a jolt of surprise, they realise they've created deep bloody half-moons in their palm. Shaking their head, they notice the person with sandy-coloured hair ready themselves, then stop, as if rethinking their options.

"Hey, help me get the other end of this pew up through a window. We'll use it as a ramp and get the fuck out through there, we can't face that thing. Not as we are now." He was absolutely correct. Nobody knew each other and nobody knew where they even were, apart from Da'at's disturbing description of Eisar. They were in no shape to fight, let alone coordinate as a team. What the hell were they gonna do, throw one of the others at the demon that hasn't brushed its teeth in five years? Actias irritably wipes their bloody hand on their jacket, turning to the man with the sandy-coloured hair.

"Good idea, but the pew looks like it could shatter at any moment. It's not a guaranteed escape, but it's better than no escape."

Actias didn't know if it was possible to die in death itself. But hell, they weren't sticking around to find out.

MOOD: Alert | LOCATION: Elysium Church | INTERACTION(S): (Observed) Da'at, Kael, Matthew

coded by weldherwings.

 

[BFabulous]

Chrystal's attention was on Da'at but she could feel the transcendent being's presence slowly fade. Whipping her head around, the young woman could hear the sounds of war. The visceral screeches of metal on metal, the gut-wrenching screams, and the horrid sound of bones breaking & flesh being ripped apart, but the worst was still to come as the sound of thumping on the wooden gates, which shortly gave way for the creatures to enter. The only thing Chrystal could do is gasp at the very sight of the massive creature. The voices of the other's snapped her back to reality.

"Hey, help me get the other end of this pew up through a window. We'll use it as a ramp and get the fuck out through there, we can't face that thing. Not as we are now."

"Good idea, but the pew looks like it could shatter at any moment. It's not a guaranteed escape, but it's better than no escape."

Chrystal moved as quickly as she could and helped the man lift the pew toward the window,"Right! Somethings better than nothin'! Oh and if we're gonna die...AGAIN, because of some useless god who couldn't even tell us WHAT we could do! My name is Chrystal! It would be nice to survive with yall, so somebody looks for an exit in the back. SMASH THE STATUE!" Chrystal barked as she helped Matthew move the pew. Once in place, she attempted to affix it in a sturdier position, but they didn't have much time to find much of anything.

The Grand Fool Cumulonimbus PlusUltra ThatWhichShouldBe

 

[PlusUltra]

Clementine Dempsey

As the strange being that had summed them began to fade away without any real answers "Oh Common! Divine Power and you couldn't think of writing this down in a tutorial or something?! Hey, dumbass get the hell back here!" The silhouette of the girl stomping her foot in frustration shortly before the world around froze into black and white.

Looking around in confusion a large screen seemed to appear before her in the frozen world with the text "Character Creation" along the top, combined with a myriad of symbols, sliders and more along with a blank template that seemed to mirror her own movements. The girl's brow could only twitch at this, the god really had been treating this like a game, literally!. Turning away from the menu she looked over the rest of the frozen individuals who had arrived with her looking like statues as she crossed her arms, though her eye was slowly drawn back to the screen, the temptation and curiosity slowly grinding her down. "Ugh fine, Ill just make something quick.....".

*Several hours in frozen time later*

"Ok a few shades more and...done!" pushing a button on the screen with a satisfied smile the display finally swapped over to another with a list of classes and more.

*Several more hours in frozen time later*

"And just like everything else, vague bordering on useless tooltips, well guess its all done for now." Giving a final glance across the screen she hits a final confirmation and with a rush of energy, she finally takes on her new idealized appearance, now clad in a fantasy over-designed outfit along with a long blue cane. Running her hands across the new appearance and checking out her work, Clementine was perhaps slightly too distracted to notice time had in fact resumed, at least until a new notification flashed across in front of her.

~Quest Update: Welcome to Eisar, Objective: Survive~

"Wait, Survive?...... Oh please let this not be a Souls-Like...." Beginning to look around her head snapped to the sound of splintering wood in time to see the emerging monstrosity from the newly destroyed door. Looking slowly between the cane in her hand and the monster, then the other people around the room scattering around to escape realising how messed up the situation was,

So while they ran around doing all that stuff they seemed to think the big guy was just going to stand there, which meant somebody needed to distract it...and that somebody was her it looked like. Internally facepalming she raised the cane in her hand to try and do something "Ok....erm...Fireball!" nothing, "Spark?" nothing "Explosion!?" nothing again "Oh common! What the hell is Blue Magic then?, Water?! Ice?! Splash?!" all her shouting and waving around seemed to achieve was maybe drawing the monsters attention. Letting out a nervous laugh while she kept her attention on the creature she took a few steps back "Well. I guess Rolly Polly? I mean a big guy should be slow right?"

 

[Cumulonimbus]

Actias Luna.

IC post #5 | a perfectly pleasant introduction

"Right! Something's better than nothin'! Oh, and if we're gonna die... again, because of some useless god who couldn't even tell us what we could do, my name is Chrystal! It would be nice to survive with y'all, so somebody look for an exit in the back. Smash the statue!" The person with the long, flowy brown hair barks. Actias strains to hear them momentarily, staring blankly at Chrystal, and then bolts towards the back of the church.

"There's nothing back here, we have to use the pew!" Actias yells as loudly as possible. Right now, the pew was sitting comfortably on the wide stool of the church window, illuminated by the stained-glass glow from the window. The window was yet to be shattered for escape. Actias sucks in a breath of air and nearly gags at the stench from the demon. Their attention snaps to the person attempting to distract the demon.

"Okay... erm... fireball! Spark? Explosion!? Oh, come on! What the hell is Blue Magic then? Water?! Ice?! Splash?!"
Actias grimaces. The shouting and waving were distracting the monster, yes, but it was still attracting a lot of attention. As if sensing Actias's concern, the person with the long blue cane spills a nervous laugh and takes a few steps back.
"Well, I guess Rolly Polly? I mean, a big guy should be slow, right?"

"No matter. The pew is mounted, come over! Should I go over the pew first to break the window, yes or no?" They glance at their hand, painted red with blood. It throbs with pain and trembles violently. "I can't get a good grip with this hand to break the window, but if we all throw our weight against it at all at once it has to shatter. I'm Actias, by the way. What a pleasant way to meet," they add.

MOOD: Alert | LOCATION: Elysium Church | INTERACTION(S): Chrystal, Clementine, Kael, Matthew

coded by weldherwings.

 

[The Grand Fool]

"No I got the window," Kael said, snapping out of his reverie. He rushed towards the pew, testing its weight carefully. Shaking his head he grabbed a stone and reared back like a pitcher. With more strength than he anticipated the stone soared through the air and smashed into the window, causing it to smash. "More than a one-stone job," he muttered to himself. Grabbing one that was twice as big as the first one, he threw it again, and it broke the window. It wasn't a clean break, with several glass pieces still in the seal. Grabbing smaller stones, he threw them toward those shards. Whizzing through the air, they smashed each one, with only three stones missing.

"The windows open," he grunted. "We should have the lighter people go first. I'll hold up the pew to keep it from breaking, and go last." A voice in his head screamed at him, saying that he didn't know these people and that he needed to get out first. It was his human nature of self-preservation speaking. Another equally loud voice roared at him to pick up a broken pew leg and throw himself against the demons. It's bloodlust trying to cloud his rational thought. But he fought it off and got under the pew bracing it with his hands, reaching above his head. It would be very close, and he might not even be able to reach the window when he tried it, but if that didn't work, he would just listen to the roaring voice and go out bathed with the blood of his enemies.

 

[LostHaven]

• Oncoming Rescue
• Objective: Survive

• Lord Inquisitor
  "Why do cultists always think opening a portal to Hell is a good idea?"​
  
  Frantic footsteps grow ever closer. Before the panicked messenger could even kick aside the door, Caelan could already practically hear their ragged breathing echoing around his humble office.
  
  CRASH-
  
  As expected, his door almost flies off his hinges as the messenger, a knight in chainmail armor, comes barging in, almost tumbling onto the floor as he does so. "Lord Inquisitor, sir! A sudden Netherworld incursion!" The messenger cries in between raspy huffs as they struggle to catch their breath. However, despite their guest's frantic state, the Lord Inquisitor doesn't so much as look up from the stack of reports spread out over his desk. He raises a hand, palm outstretched to signal his subordinate to slow down before he opens his mouth to speak.
  
  "Time and location," Caelan states calmly, a stark contrast to this knight that was sweating buckets through his helm. Seeing their superior's complete confidence and calmness, the knight seems to gain enough reassurance to tone their urgent shouting down a notch.
  
  "Southeast Section, near the center, sir!" They reply, still far too loud for Caelan's taste.
  
  "That's... where the old church is. Which Devil is responsible?"
  
  "My apologies, we have yet to identify the Devil of worship, sir!" This reply elicits a soft sigh from the Lord Inquisitor. This was already chalking up to be a complete waste of his time. "But we have confirmed that a particularly large one with horns was spotted among the chaos."
  
  Are you serious? 'A particularly large one with horns?' Did this idiot know how little that narrowed it down? Such a generic description could fit anything in between a trash mob to Lord Baal himself. Looked like there was no helping it - he'd have to step in whether he liked it or not. As much as the Lord Inquisitor wished he could just dump this menial task to his subordinates, he begrudgingly pulls himself up from his chair and tears off his fur jacket off the coat stand, draping it over his back in one swift, practiced motion.
  
  "Inform an undertaker. In case the corpses pile too high."
  
• An Abandoned Church
  The ragtag group of Otherworlders adhered to common sense, thankfully. Deciding that the enormous, grey mass of muscle and bad oral hygiene was far too tough of an opponent to face right from the get-go, Matthew swiftly concludes that finding a way out through one of the windows to the side of the church hall was the most ideal solution, rather than rushing through the open doorway that a very angry demon was blocking.
  
  The majority begin to assist Matthew in creating a way out through said window, whilst the girl who was screaming her frustrations at a dead God, who also seemed to have discovered their 'supernatural powers' earlier than the others begins to experiment with her newfound powers by yelling random 'keywords' and 'commands', in hopes of something happening. And as expected, yelling 'fireball', 'explosion', 'fire IV', 'perish song', et cetera would yield absolutely zero results. 'Magic' was far more delicate and complex an art than simply yelling words, even if the one yelling the words was an isekai'd Twitch streamer possibly imbued with the powers of what remained of 'God'.
  
  And, unfortunately, the now very angry demon did not understand Clementine's words, nor did it appreciate the references. In fact, in its eyes, this young woman appeared to be performing some sort of ridiculous, mocking dance routine which just made its rage bubble more than it already was. It lets out another wave of eardrum shattering screams, picking up a nearby imp and throwing it at Clementine like a loud, confused, and possibly terrified projectile, before charging at her itself, swinging its enormous sword with great force in a wide, horizontal arc. If a particular demon, found in a particular, narrow space was any indicator, Clementine would soon come to realize that not only was this a souls-like, she had best get used to using the 'roly-poly' nonstop very soon.
  
  As for the rest of the party, as they slowly begin to make their escape from the old, crumbling church, they would find the outside to be no better. Imp-like demons infested the streets, along with a good number of larger ones, not unlike the one that had barged into the church. Civilians dressed in fantasy-medieval garb ranged from panicked, fleeing, or fighting off the demons with whatever weapon they could grab ahold of, be it an axe or a stick. And some were assaulting other civilians in midst the chaos...?
  
  "Praise be to the Necromancer!"
  
  "Death will liberate us and bring us true life!"
  
  Ok. Clearly mentally unwell cultists dressed like civilians. The most distressing of all however was the fact that knights, law enforcement, or anything else of the sort was nowhere in sight. However, despite the chaos, the corpses that littered the ground were few, indicating that it hadn't been long since the chaos had broken out - a few minutes at most, coinciding with the timing of when the Otherworlders had been brought into Eisar. Mere coincidence?
  
  There wasn't much time to ponder the implications, as a number of imp creatures accompanied by several crazed cultists seem to set their eyes upon the Otherworlders. Whether they liked it or not, they were going to throw some hands, until help arrived.
  

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Matthew Sanli

---

The storyteller runs up the pew with light feet, leaving the demons behind in the abandoned church. He steps out through the window and braces himself for a rough landing, only to find his fall broken by the tattered cloth roof of what had once been a prosperous street stall. He finds himself rolling off it to fall to the ground in a heap, groaning from the impact. He might have survived it with only perhaps a bruise as a cost, but it still wasn't fun, Matthew gets up to his feet, looking around at the chaos with wide eyes. So... This really was an isekai setting, huh? Demons running amok and... What was that about a Necromancer? Who the fuck worships a necromancer? Who's that stupid?

Evidently, a LOT of people, judging from how many cultists were flooding the street around them. Matthew puts his hand on the table of the stall to help himself up, but he feel something... wet. Wet and warm and sticky. He turns to look, and he meets the dead eyes of a young woman, the former owner of this little bread stand. She might have been pretty once, but it was hard to tell with the axe embedded in her face. One eye had burst, her face half a gory mess framed by a shock of red hair.

He looks at that corpse for a moment, the shock of it sweeping over him, as it finally hits him.

These were real people, dying right now. This world he was sent to 'save'... It was made up of women and men and children with their lives being cut short. A cultist pops up behind him, a dagger raised to plunge into his back, but something in Matthew snaps. And a dragon wakes. His leg snaps out, kicking the cultist in the balls, before the storyteller turns about and hits the man in the throat with a chop, crushing his windpipe and leaving the cultist choking to death. There's a tinge of regret, but no time to dwell on it.

Sanli enters a fighting stance he doesn't know how he knows, bringing his hands up, as more cultists and imps make their way towards him. Somehow, he knows exactly what to do. How to dismantle these men and imps like tearing up tissue paper. How to block, deflect, and evade their blows. There's a moment of hesitation. But he sees the death in their eyes and the young woman's corpse and he knows.

He has to fight, because there was something to fight for. Matthew roars out a battle cry, as his hands and feet begin to fly and shatter bone and break skin, and he remembers his own words from a poem he'd written in another world and another life.

The wheel of ages turns the same,
mortal lives cast to ash and flame,
but come the best and come the worst,
a hero charges forth with fist first.

 

[Cumulonimbus]

Actias Luna.

IC post #6 | shattered glass

Actias lingers, and swiftly runs up the pew as gently and efficiently as possible, trailing behind the young man. He had stepped out the window with deadly determination and readiness for what lay ahead - something they could only wish for. They pause on the stool of the window for a moment, and then their body leaps through the hole in the window in an arc, tucking into a roll and embracing the hard ground with minimised pain. Demons crawl the streets - big ones, small ones, some with red splattered on their grotesque faces. Bloody shoeprints trail about as if in a death dance. This is just like before.

"Praise be to the Necromancer!" Desperation stretched out like cotton on a wound. I'm sorry, what? Necromancer? Actias dizzily leans on the abandoned shop. They faintly notice someone attack the young man. He's dead. He's dying. They shut their eyes and try their hardest not to pass out, vision blurring, faith wavering.

And then they feel something cool on their skin, starkly contrasting the anxious sweat on their hands. Smooth, then jagged.

The curve of glass.

Actias's eyes flutter open and they swing. They didn't intend to let go so early, but the half-shattered beer bottle was now fully shattered, using a cultist's head as a catalyst. They glance over at the young man. He was expertly taking down anyone and everyone in his way, a praying mantis ready to strike. Calculated movements, only a minute trace of hesitation on his face. Move! Actias urges themselves.

A thrum of energy encapsulates them. Heightened senses wrap around them. The footstep of an imp, the breathing of a cultist - everything's there, yet to be uncovered. The glass shards feel one with them. How could something so beautiful be so lethal? The memories came rushing back - how hopeless they were with a gun, how they were trained to be espionage instead. The weight of χαρμολύπη, Charmoleepee - Their first glass dagger, created by them, used by them and destroyed by them. χαρμολύπη, A word with many connotations, but Actias had chosen the context where it meant 'bittersweet'.

In a practised motion, they slide across the ground and pick up a long piece of shattered glass. They drive it in the arteries of countless cultists but leave the imps to the young man beside them. Using their short height as an advantage, Actias keeps their centre of gravity close to the ground to maintain stability, while trying their best to kill as many attackers as quickly as possible. This unhappiness - this death and chaos scattered about like litter, lit the wick that lay dominant in them. And they have no idea how to stop it.

Remorse creeps in like a snake at night, but it soon strangles itself and dies, accompanied by millions of other snakes, with no one to rid of its body.

MOOD: - | LOCATION: Southeast Section | INTERACTION(S): (observed) Matthew

coded by weldherwings.

 

[PlusUltra]

Clementine Dempsey

Staring at the giant it was only now that the girl also took note of the far smaller imps around it, creepy creatures crowding resembling what would happen if you gave a bunch of angry toddlers sharp claws and meth, something she got a very close look at she ducked just in time for one of them sailed over her head and crash into the wood behind her.

To make matters worse she only narrowly managed to lean back out of the way of the demon's wide swing, though the force of it alone sent her barreling backwards haphazardly. Ok, it seemed like retreat was definitely the best option at this point, or at least she thought it would be if not for two details that soon became apparent as she turned to the route the others had taken. Firstly, there were the sounds of even more demons screaming outside that she could hear once the window had been broken, some of which were speaking. Speaking normally meant more intelligent, even if they were saying crazy things, and more intelligent meant more dangerous, especially with how many there seemed to be.

The second detail was the fact the earlier imp crashing into the wood, seemed to have actually been crashing into the pew that had been used for said escape. "Aww F*$k me....wait, why is it.....are you telling me there's a god damned profanity filter too?!" her curse word seemingly interrupted with a loud riff noise.

She didn't have much time to dwell on that thought as soon another wide sweep was coming along at her, having her running and rolling becoming much more of a priority, though if the larger creature throwing the imps didn't indicate it before, the indiscriminate cleaving through those that got in the way did confirm it was not concerned for their well being. Thinking it through between jumps, rolls and exploding wood it did give her an option to at least thin out some of the numbers inside after all trying to dance around the little guys was going to be an issue if she wanted to do anything to the bigger guy that now had her trapped.

She had to just try and play to her advantage as few as they were. One, Friendly Fire was a thing, Two the guy's big swings meant he was hitting things far away from him so getting in close as dangerous as it was would allow her to evade around him easier, Three....Maybe Parrays and Backstabs were a thing?. Putting her idea to work she did try and kite him around a bit to try and direct the attacks into friendly fire, in addition to at least trying to do something in return, namely jabbing him in the back every time she managed to roll around to limited effect.

 

[BFabulous]

As Chrystal was climbing the pew, one of the imps came crashing into it, sending her barreling toward the ground. She landed not so gracefully with a slight roll to regain her balance. Through the chaos, she heard another of the reincarnated curse their bad luck,"Fuck you? Fuck me and FUCK THIS! And how the hell are you being censored?"She screeched over the commotion inside the church, although she could still hear cries of pain on the outside.

The imp recovered from their free-flying adventure and lunged at Chrystal with reckless abandon, before the young woman could even react the creature was on her back,"What th--" Chrystal was cut off by the imp punching her in the face. Chrys could taste the familiar flavor of metal fill her mouth, which only sent adrenalin rushing through her body. The already pissed woman grabbed the imp from her back and tossed it into the wall with little effort, but before it could slide down Chrys delivered a spinning side kick. Chrystal didn't take the time to check if it was out or not before turning to the or,"Yo, orco! Any ideas?"

Chrystal hid behind the orc as she took the time to think of an escape plan. They had been blessed with a piece of a god but what does that even mean? If only Chrys could turn into Glenda the Good and summon some bubbles, call the seven dwarves for assistance, or even call a cloak of invisibility,"UGH!! STUPID GOD! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US ANYTHING, DAMMIT!" Chrystal screamed as she ran over to the Da'at statue. As the anger continued to well up within her it gave way to a tingling sensation that started at her feet and scaled her body. just as quick as the feeling had come, it disappeared but now she could feel some fabric in her hand,"T-This i-is the CLOAK!?" Chrystal wrapped the cloak around herself but she could tell it wouldn't last long. From underneath the cloak, Chrystal barked at the others still in the church,"Aye! I'm invisible! This thing won't last long, so get the demon bitch to clear away some of the small fry. When I'm close to you I'll whistle." Chrystal sprinted towards the orc and once he was in the cloak slightly extended to cover him, but Chrystal could feel a piece of her draining. Looking at Clementine Chrystal knew she would be the most dangerous to rescue as she was facing the beast. She whispered to the orc to follow closely behind her as she moved towards the wall. She picked a spot that was behind the demon, so that if timed correctly Clementine could roll past it and get scooped up by Kael, then maybe they could escape, IF the cloak could last that long.