Deposited into the room, the Jaffa were naturally startled, confusion evident on their features as they were confronted with the robots that Martin had arranged for his defense. They swiveled and reacted, staff weapons at the ready even if it wouldn't make a difference against what he could bring to bear in that moment. then again, they were Jaffa. Being expendable was part of the job description.

Soran shook his head, doing his best to be stony faced in the presence of such a bewildering array of defensive contraptions. "You have the word of Lord Ba'al that you shall not be harmed, so long as you do not attack the Goa'uld Empire. I am here to arrange the terms of your asylum, wherever you wish to conduct the negotiations."

@supertinyking

@thewizardguy@Tyki@Absolis (Keith may or may not also be here)

At the appearance of a storm, Mithias had ordered his company to press onward, assured of the sturdiness of the ship to endure, but little did they realize what they were getting into. Quickly, maintaining a course became a battle. The hull creaked ominously as it strained between the force of the engines and the force exerted on it by Alucard. They all knew that nothing natural was afoot here over the ocean. This was indeed the place the enemy was hiding.

Mithias put a hand on a console to steady himself. "How much longer could we theoretically endure this?" He asked his men, trying to make an educated decision. The shields were holding, the ship had plenty of power, but stability and visuals were an issue.

"Commander, we're being drawn downward, into the center."

"Resist. We only want to fly over it." The vampire hadn't expected this phenomena.

"Increasing output to 80% of maximum... 85."

The ship lurched as the force pulling them was inconsistent. The crosswinds, the electrical interference, and the irregularity were causing damage. There was too little they could gain by being here. Alucard, or whoever else he was working with, had surrounded themselves with quite the defense.

"That's enough. It's too dangerous here. Let's get out." Mithias gave the order to leave, but soon fonud it was impossible.

"95% maximum output. We're not getting anywhere. It doesn't want us to leave."

Mithias twitched. Much to his dismay, it seemed he was going to get everyone killed, and he was mentally scrambling to avoid that scenario. His men struggled, expertly maneuvering the ship, but their direction always changed. Swarms of flying Tyrannid appeared outside all around them, just behind the clouds, or were they the clouds? The sensors were flashing red.

Finally, Mithais had a crazy idea. "Alright. Forget leaving. Alucard has given us seven days, so he's not going to destroy us now. Conserve our power and fly into it. In a storm this big, chances are the center is more survivable. I see it as our only option." He really hoped he was right.

But the marines of the black dragon chapter obeyed his order, trusting in the wisdom of their leaders who for some reason had them following orders from this human-like vampire fellow. They were fully dedicated.

The ship turned and the power output cut down. The sound of flexing metal subsided significantly, and they soon broke out of the clouds into a clearing, the eye, where the pillars of fire shot up and began their intertwining dance around a grotesque platform, a mockery of what it had once stood for.

And there he was at the center of the platform, the fiend known as Alucard, with his glowing red eyes and sharklike grin. Mithias would never forget it. And with that vision and his heightened senses, Mithias felt once again the call, nay the command, to kneel. It was stronger than before, and the ironic part was that it felt right, it felt just. It was as if every cell in his body was telling him that this was the peace he sought. He would give anything for this being, this vampire, his king. For a moment, he reflected. Why? Why not give in? Join Alucard, be a slave to him, die when he tells you to... And he would have, except for one question that was still left unanswered. For all his power and ferocity, there was a glint of regret in Alucard's eyes.

Mithias shook his head to find nearly all the black dragons were staring at him. "It's alright. I'm fine. I still have my own will." And indeed he did. There was no control over him. Any decision he made would be his own, his choice. If Alucard won, it would be because Mithias had willingly conceded. He stared at the image on the screen and felt Alucard watching him, right before he delivered his speech.

Another entity was in range, conversing with Alucard.

Mithias ignored Alucard and spoke only to his men. "Dave, have everyone start collecting data. I want to know everything we have the capacity to detect and learn from this place and that being on the platform. Also, scan that other entity. If it's Alucard's master, then I want to know everything about it. Scan the depths of the whirlpool, magical connections, psychic energy, and start transmitting every gigabyte to Vulkan. If we don't get out of here, then this mission will not be in vain."

Crewmen quickly went to work at their stations. Mithias stood glaring at Alucard and Xelrath and clapsed his hands behind his back. They still had an arsenal of weapons, boarding capability, and a teleporter. "Let's see what this other being does before we make any more moves."

@Flamelord @thewizardguy @Wraithblade6 @Tyki

Martin raised an arm, the robotic defense force quickly lowering their weapons. He smiled a bit, and exited his own combat suit, which closed up, and walked away. Martin was confident. He saw the fear in their eyes. He saw the terror his machines put in them. This showed they knew that killing him would be foolish, and further, that they could feel fear. The sense of self preservation, the feeling to ward of stupid actions involving the dangerous, and unknown.
"Good...Good...Err..do you all like tea? Maybe coffee, or hot cocoa? I've most kind of Nanostream drinks..If..that's ok. Also, I'd like to get into Gou'ald space quickly, as to avoid the imperium just dropping bombs on my station..which if they do, expect me to react badly towards them, I warn you." Martin states. moving his station deeper into Asian space, slowly, sending a video transmission to the ship where the Jaffa had first appeared from. Transmitting the talks, and to show what Martin's intent was by moving into Gou'ald space. However, he notes the turmoil happening in the distance....
"..It appears some sort of anomaly is happening near by...damn..I'm sorry, but this will have to wait. As a parting gift..some tech I got from the imperium." Martin tells them, as several robots equiped with the mechanical parts of the Servitors he had taken apart appear, and bow. "They'll obey your orders, mine over yours of course..but do feel free to study them. In my short time of owning them, I've already used my extensive tools here to discover how they work. It's barbaric in my views..so maybe you'll get more use out of them, than I." Martin tells the Jaffa. "But for now..we must discuss later my asylum. This anomaly is worrying, and I'm detecting the strange fortress that was just here, there, and it's causing some odd readings to appear...I have to see what is happening...but should I not return...be cautious if you come looking for me. I've no idea what you might find." Martin warns. "Return to your ship..I'll return shortly."

@Gentlemanvaultboy@supertinyking@thewizardguy

Damien responded to Firebrand with avid interest. "Yes, I did feel something like that. There is a willful entity at work here. It was trying to make me forget why we came, forget everything in fact. We seem to have repelled its influence, for now, but I expect more of the same as long as we are in its domain. We must push on quickly."

About then, Ozo started screaming. Damien instinctively took a step behind Firebrand and raised his hands in preparation of a defensive spell. It looked like Ozo was about to lose it, and if needed, Damien would defend himself. Somehow, Ozo was able to ask for what he needed to resist the mysterious control that threatened to overtake him, and Firebrand quickly obliged.

"Magic or matter?" Damien then asked as he stepped out again, hand crackling with electricity. "Then here, eat this." He pointed at Ozo and sent a lightning bolt forth that would have killed lesser creatures. It was the quickest spell he had at the ready, one refined for speed in case of emergency. Summoning a spirit or a corporeal undead would certainly have taken ore time, so Damien had fed Ozo straight magic.

@Wraithblade6 @Gentlemanvaultboy @thewizardguy

Ozo opened his mouth wide....

It was the perfect storm......

So many different factors coming together, causing a moment like this to be a one in a thousand....

Ozo's mouth clamped down, as he consumed both the magical bolt, and the magic resistant sword shard. Normally, the sword shard would of simply sat in his gut, unable to be broken down by his magical digestion. However, this was not a normal situation. With the combined boost from both Firebrand's talisman, and the burst of energy from Damien's lightning, the sword shard melted down almost instantly, the burst of energy being to much for even such a thing.

Upgrade gained: All forms. Innate magic resistance. Level?: Unknown.

Ozo then stopped acting like he was in pain..the voices drew quieter. No longer did it feel like a battering ram against his sanity. Simple, whispers that did nothing to sway him...or..maybe not. Maybe they were simply digging slower..to slow to notice..fast enough to worry about?

"Oh.....I feel better....oddly hungrier....but...better..." Ozo says, smiling a bit, burping up some blue flames. "...Well, thank you! That did the trick..."
With that, Ozo quickly takes off the talisman, handing it back to Firebrand. "Thanks for letting me borrow that. I'll need to use that again at some point." Ozo says, jokingly.

@supertinyking@Wraithblade6@thewizardguy

Firebrand started to put away the other shaft of anti magic metal, looked over at Damien, then decided it probably wasn't necessary if he had helped handle Ozo's problem. He took his talisman back from the creature and slipped it back under his armor. "Something doesn't want us here, but it's being subtle about it. No monsters. No big flashy spells. No violence. Enough to get us to go away, but not enough to alert the factions to its existence. Ozo." He said, turning to him. "Whatever it is you did to get us here, we shouldn't try it again unless we're desperate. Its seen the trick we used to break in, and if it's hiding like this then just us getting back out could ruin whatever it's doing. We should assume it's watching, and need to make sure we don't show it all of our tricks before the time is right."

He beat his wings mightily and lifted off from the ground. "I'm going to get the lay of the land. It wasn't just a tower, there were tubes running out across this entire land. I'd rather not trod in one if I can help it." With that he flew up, higher into the sky, giving the area a good looking around. He tried to remember the position of the pipes he'd seen during the brief flash of what was really in this place, and searched for any indication that they were really there.

@Flamelord



"The Imperium does well, and I hope the Goa'Uld share such prosperity." It certainly seemed like they had the profit margin to dress out their HQ in style. Not that Abrams could really call them out on it. The Imperial Palace of old had been clad in gold and adorned with the skulls of warriors. The latest in Imperium style. Regardless, considering the previous interactions with the Goa'Uld it was important to set the best foot forward in regards to negotiation. "There has been strife between our factions, but in the light of recent events, the leaders of the Imperium of Man have decided that cooperation is the best course of action. We come here in order to ask for your assistance in the endeavour of removing the Tyranid threat from this planet, and counteracting the plans of the individual called 'Alucard'. But first...."

With a gesture, Captain Abrams sent one of the marines forward, who held on his hands a velvet cushion. Removing a cloth from the cushion revealed a long staff forged from a pale grey material, similar in appearance to titanium. It was topped with an image of a dragon's head, each eye embedded with a large ruby, and it's scales each hand-crafted from a strange green metal. The marine holding it stepped towards the throne, and then knelt down for one of Ba'al's lackeys to retrieve the gift. "This staff was hand-crafted by Vulkan. It contains a dual force field generator capable of withstanding even artillery fire, and will protect you from all but the most powerful weapons. It can also be used as a powerful weapon, redirecting the energy from one of the shield generators into a powerful las beam projected from the dragon's eyes. A symbol of power and protection, and a symbol, hopefully, of the Imperium's cooperation with the Goa'Uld." The symbolism had been chosen carefully, of course. An aquilla would have been too blatant a symbol of the Imperium. Instead a salamander, Vulkan's personal crest, allowing for the association but also a symbol of power in it's own right. The gift was truly valuable, a weapon far beyond the standard equipment wielded by the Imperium's super soldiers.

After seeing how Ba'al received the gift, Abrams continued, smiling as he continued on a more technical note. What followed was a lengthy explanation of the Tyranid plans of attack and biology. The Tyranid would attempt to convert any biomass they could acquire before the full battle began, and as such locations such as forests and cities became key locations. In addition, creatures known as genestealers were well known to implant humanoid creatures with special DNA-altering substances that would leave the host largely unaffected, but for a psionic connection and subservience to the Tyranid hivemind. As such he recommended regular genetic scans of all troops who came into contact with Tyranid forces, especially as infected individuals tended to possess significantly increased intelligence and combat prowess such as to better serve the Hive Mind. Such sleeper agents had been known to lie in wait and spread for years, steadily infiltrating the higher echelons of their native society, and taking command of a planet's defences. Needless to say, he also detailed the basics of their weaponry and numbers, advising the use of scorched earth tactics and not to go on the offensive. The only real way to defeat a Tyranid force was to destroy the Hive Ship, the main production chamber for the Tyranid forces. This would require a coordinated offensive from all factions, as the Tyranid were likely to array their full forces around this hive ship, and Alucard would most likely guard it in person. The main reason for the Imperium's plea for cooperation was in order to ensure that all of Arcadia's military forces would strike at this hive ship at once, a vast armada of ships to temporarily punch through the Tyranid lines and destroy their mobile HQ.

Of course, in exchange, the Imperium was willing to negotiate for a variety of permissions and land-colonialisation rights, although Abrams maintained the narrative that both factions required the assistance of the other in order to overcome the Tyranid threat. But the Imperium was also well aware that the Goa'Uld had... expansionistic tendencies, and agreed not to meddle with any further colonialisation efforts regardless of whether the Goa'Uld agreed to join. Not that the Imperium had the spare manpower to go patrolling the universe, looking for illegal Goa'Uld emigrants.

@Wraithblade6@Tyki

"Hmmm? How interesting. It appears that you discard fear in favour of ignorant arrogance." Alucard smiled slightly to himself, coolly looking over Xel'Rath and his spawn. They were unsightly creatures indeed. Neither monster nor human, some form of abomination from beyond the stars, this was one creature he would have no objection to destroying. A being who devoured all in it's path in the vain name of science, and yet knew nothing of the true nature of the universe. Pathetic. But useful, perhaps. "Allow me to re-introduce myself. I am Alucard, Lord of Vampires, Herald of the Eighth." He extended his arm, and crystaline growths began appearing along it's lengths. Amber crystalline veins formed over his skin, and expanded until his entire arm seemed to be encased in a smooth amber-coloured layer. It was a rather odd change, but far more worrying were Xel'Rath's non-visual senses. For this arm appeared to suck up background radiation, psionic energy, and even the very ambient life-energy that Alucard appeared to radiate. In fact, it appeared to function exactly as Xel'Rath's own power did, at least from a superficial examination. "Thank you, Xel'Rath, for your contribution to the war effort. In return, allow me to grant you the knowledge you no doubt desire. You are hereby forbidden from exiting this planet's atmosphere. You will act as an observer to the events to come, as I wipe out the lesser races. Perhaps I shall even leave you alive to witness the rebirth of my master, and the end of all you know. It's certainly a beautiful time to be alive." He dismissed Xel'Rath with a wave, and the entire pavilion appeared to disappear from view, along with the unknown space ship that he had glimpsed nearby. No amount of searching would reveal this pavilion again, and Xel'Rath would soon find himself inexplicably back on the route to Hawaii.

---

Meanwhile, Alucard bemusedly observed the Space Marine cruiser. It appeared that his kin would not make the first move. As such, Alucard reached out with his newly gained arm. The ship seemed to tremble in the air as, slowly, it's void shields seemed to get sucked off of the ship itself. What was previously a barely visible purple orb of force was pulled into an oblong shape, before breaking apart into a series of energy streams flowing into Alucard's arm. Not an exact copy of Xel'Rath's powers, but a close approximation. He would certainly get some use out of this toy. The cruiser soon found itself losing power, the very heat being pulled from it's engines and the power being stolen from their laser batteries. Smiling, Alucard played with the ship as a child might with a house in a snowglobe, shaking it just to see the pieces fly about.

When he spoke, amidst the chaos, he could clearly be head. His voice echoed through the chambers of the escort cruiser, even as alarms blared and space marines shouted damage reports. "Now come, foolish children. I will show you now the error of your return. One who would confront their enemy unprepared and poorly armed is not a worthy adversary. I will put you out of your suffering, and turn you into a warning for the fools who sent you not to intrude upon my domain." A purple glow encased his hand as he allowed the ship to once more regain it's energy, barely righting itself before he chose to administer it's death sentence. "Jigen Tou: Dimension-Cutting Blade." As he spoke the word, his Youki manifested as a sort of interdimensional chainsaw, an immense blade slicing down from the heavens, scattering the atoms of anything struck into multiple dimensions. An unstoppable attack that could cut through anything, the ultimate technique of Touhou Fuhai. This was the weapon that could end the world, and even the meter-thick armour plating on the cruiser was nothing before it. The thin plane of purple energy would bissect the ship, slicing it neatly in half to fall into the Tyranid-infested waters below.

But, even as this weapon streaked towards them, slicing the very air apart on a subatomic scale, Mithias recognized the attack. What he would do with this revelation, or the tingling familiarity in the back of his mind, was up to him. But if he did not act his followers would soon be dead, and he himself lost to the mercy of the beasts in the water far below.

Shooting up, Firebrand is treated to a wide panorama of desolate and empty landscapes interspersed with clumps of plant life both familiar and alien. A copse of trees stands less than 100 meters away from what appears to be a giant scaly mushroom with teeth. But despite this there is no indication of either the massive branching structure that he had previously observed, or in fact any signs of life. It's clear at this point that something is messing with his perception, but nothing could prevent the strange niggling feeling at the edge of his thoughts, as if he could only just see something large and metal from the corner of his eye. But any time he tried to focus on it it was gone, or turned out to be merely another grey human structure. After a bit, though, he manages to spot the very landscape shifting in an interesting manner. He notices an entire area of the land seemingly.... bending, twisting around without ever truly moving. Soon it becomes clear what is the reason for this strange phenomena, as Firebrand spots a figure clad in blinding silver marching through the wastelands. Despite moving in a straight line the figure is constantly turned around, ending up walking the wrong way, and no amount of self-correction is enough to get back on track. As if the very fabric of space was bending to misdirect the figure.

Closer analysis shows the figure to be clad in thick silver armour in the style of a crusader, but with none of the typical marks. A large greatsword is slung over the figure's back, and their armour is covered in seals and small decorations. Scrolls of parchment and severed heads hang side by side on the warrior's belt, contrasted against the shiny silver plate mail. The warrior also seems impossibly large, two meters at least, and walks with a slender grace that shouldn't be possible in that much armour. This is all secondary to a completely different odd feeling that assaults Firebrand's senses as he observes the stranger, a strange tingling across his skin as if he was conducting a light electrical charge. By the way the figure tilted it's head towards him he had been noticed, although admittedly he himself was not overly stealthy, a giant red armoured dot flying through the clear blue skies.

---

Meanwhile, Ozo found himself recovering from the voice attempting to overrule his sense of reason. Unfortunately, his blessing came with it's very own curse. Even as he managed to surpass the strange weapon's anti-magic field and digest it, he feels a presence observing him. As if a pizza-sized eye had opened right besides his head, glaring at him. He felt a cool breath upon his neck, and the scent as if something long and slippery were crawling across his back. It was an unpleasant experience, but more unpleasant was the knowledge that this action had managed to attract the attention of something that felt both large, and old. The gaze of an ancient deity. For the moment he could feel no active interference, but being in the sights of ancient and powerful beings very rarely ended up going well for just about anyone involved, with the possible exception of that deity's personal super-zealots.

Observing a blasted landscape like this evoked a feeling of unexpected homesickness in Firebrand. The horrible mushroom would not look out of place sticking out in the Ghoul Realm, but it was the glint of silver that caused the demons heart to leap into his throat. Upon closer inspection, however, it appeared the silver knight was not whom he believed it to be. Still, he observed the large warrior and the enchantment he was trapped in for a long while. It was something he had seen before, the sort of warping of space his late master Astaroth had used to defend his holding from invasion. No matter how far you plunged into the Demonic Village you would inevitably end up back at the start. Was it just nostalgia that was causing this feeling, this strange static that seemed to permeate his body?

The knight was observing him. Firebrand shared a long look with him, then circled and spiraled back down to earth.

"Not much to report." he told him companion. "No sign of the structure or its extremities. Clump of trees that way, near a monstrous mushroom. There's also a giant knight caught in an area of weird space that won't let him continue no matter how far he walks. No idea if he's hostile or not, but he's the only living thing I saw out here. We could just press on the center of the continent, try and fumble out way into this mystery. Personally, I'm going to meet that knight."

@thewizardguy

https://youtu.be/Y0FT-5JLCAY

"What is that other creature?"

"A xeno. Has never been encountered before. Appears to exist by a form of energy manipulation."

"Are we recording thier conversation? ... Wait, what the hell is he doing with his arm?"

The lights dimmed randomly. It was apparent that Alucard's energy drain was affecting them as well. Mithias stood in the middle of the control room staring unflinchingly out the front. He could hear every word Alucard said, like he was right next to him, and unlike the others, he could acutely feel with his own senses the unimaginable energy Alucard was manipulating. It was beyond astonishing.

"The creature's gone!"

"Commander, he was teleported... half way around the planet. The energy used was twice what would be expected. Alucard did something else to him as well."

A herald of eight, a master's rebirth, and some kind of contribution made by the strange xeno, a war? There was so much more yet unrevealed. This mission had only begun to scratch the surface of understanding what it would take to save this world, and there was so little time.

All too quickly, with Xelrath vanished, Alucard had naught left to focus on but the Imperial cruiser. His glare belied death itself and shook Mithias to the core as he beheld it. For the first time in a long time, Mithias felt like the chances of being about to die were greater than the chances of survival. He swallowed hard, bracing himself for whatever moves he might have to make and an end that would undoubtedly be painful.

Without further adieu, Alucard pointed that weird arm of his at the space cruiser and the whole contstruct began to tremble. Shields streched out and shredded themselves, power failed, stability failed, and marines scrambled to strap themselves down.

"Commander! Should we return fire?"

"All weapons are down!"

Mithias answered, "Lieutenant, that would be a negative!"

The ship was getting royally fucked up, but finally the shaking stopped. Power began to return. Alucard was finished making his point about how powerless Mithias and his company were against him. Mithias looked up again, picking himself up off the deck, as Alucard made his final threat. He was 'putting them out of their misery.' Mithias cursed. Time was up, and he couldn't believe it. Whatever had driven him to come here hadn't answered his prayers to become clear before they all died. What the hell was it then?! What was this rediculous gut-feeling he had that told him Alucard wouldn't kill them? Because it was wrong! Had there been some good to Alucard, some inkling of regret, or had that all been merely wishful thinking? Where had he remembered Alucard from? Because he needed to figure it out right now.

Mithias's heart raced, if it could have raced, and he held up a hand as if Alucard could see him within the ship. "Alucard, wait! Listen, you don't want to...." But it was too late. His pleas fell on deaf, dead, ears.

A lightning-fast line of purple energy shot through the split-center of the vessel sparking a white-hot glow where it had cut through the solid metal hull and other internal structures. Mithias deaftly stepped back with his right foot and turned to the side just enough that the Jigen Tou attack split the tips of his hair in its wake inches beside him. That attack... Mithias did recognize it. In fact, knowing what it was and what was coming, even on a subconscious level, had forwarned him to side-step in time to save his life, or limb. But it sent him into a spiral of vague recollection that cost critical, precious moments.

The ship was severed perfectly. It took a total of 3 whole seconds before the two halves began to fall apart to the sides. The fractured engines exploded in the back of the ship, hardly causing any movement of the two weighty halves, and debri from inside fell loose and rained down to the waters below. Space marines fell, unable to even fight on the way to their deaths. Many attempted to cling to something, for any last fighting chance they might take a Tyrannid or two down with them.

Mithias was frozen. As the floor fell out from beneath him, he was still frozen, suspended mid-air by his own telekinesis. In his mind, out of desperation, he was in another place.

A father in red, fighting to save an unconscious child, his father... A monster with wings of flame attacking from above, a purple blade in his own hand as he moved to attack the monster. He heard his own voice call out the same technique as Alucard had, and he remembered himself using the dimensional tear to transport himself to a position behind the monster, as if his body and the weapon were one. Death imminent, a beloved friend, a soulmate, appearing to sacrifice himself to save him... That was the one who had taught him the technique.

Mithias snapped back to reality, the ship halves were still just beginning to fall on either side of him. Quickly, instinctively, and with no forethought whatsoever, Mithias telekinetically grabbed them and strained with all his mental might. A name came to him, the same name that he had almost called out before when he had first seen Alucard. He called it again, unknowingly, hoping for aid, for help, against all probability.

Barely, Mithias was holding the two halves of the 200 meter long ship suspended in air above the churning whirlpool. The marines that hung on were still inside, just realizing that they were no longer falling. Mithias' eyes glowed red and he bore his fangs. He was using all his telekinetic power to accomplish this feat, and clearly he wasn't going to hold out for long. On the broken ship, Dave rallied the troops and ordered them to escape pods and whatever else they could use to attempt to board the platform below.

Seeing their feed dangled in front of their waiting mouths tauntingly, the Tyrannid below became angry. Those that could fly flew up in a swarm, while other climbed out atop each other from the water, forming a gaint arm of 'nids that reached up and attached itself to one of the ship halves. No longer warded by shields and an intact hull, they were boarding the ship in droves, adding weight, and eventually, Mithias lost control. The remains of the Imperial cruiser came crashing down into the infested waters, one right before the other. "No!" Mithias screamed, hating what was happening, hating how he couldn't deny it, and hating that it was all his fault.

Half falling, and half stumbling, Mithias landed himself on the platform. He had failed miserably, and the pain of that regret stabbed him deeper than any weapon. All those space marines, Vulkan, they had trusted him and look what he had done. He had wasted their efforts, their hopes, and now he was alone and surrounded by the enemy. Everything they had given him had been wasted. How could he have been so stupid? He pounded a fist against the twisted platform wishing he could have kicked himself or worse.

Dave... Mithias focused and suddenly realized Dave was on the platform not far from him with a small squadron of survivors. The Tyrannid were attacking them relentlessly as they struggled to maintain formation. He got up and ran toward them, drawing his blades. "Tsukune!" Mithias began cutting through and TK-throwing Tyrannids off his allies as quickly as possible, trying to get to them, but the waves were endless. "Stop! Let them go! They are innnocent. I brought them here. It was my order!" The scent of human blood was making Mithias salivate and that fact was sickening. But the giant alien insects kept coming, until Mithias had the displeasure of seeing every last space marine dead. Even Dave had his head bitten off, leaving Mithias truly, utterly alone. At that point, the creatures relented and backed off. His punishment had been harsh, and Mithias was left shaking.

Mentally and emotionally shredded, Mithias stood panting and faced Alucard. No one was there to help him, and without them, he knew, he had no chance. Keith was probably fish food somewhere beneath this platform. Where was his Alliance? The Conablum Labs? The Goa'uld? Mithias would even take some dog-man in a robot suit at this point, but even altogether, would they actually have a chance?

While most of the world had received a smattering of superpowered individuals, a larger than normal number of them found themselves concentrated in New Zealand. Across the planet, there were several groups of individuals from diverse universes who decided to work together in small settlements. Not quite factions, but something more similar to the city-states of old. These groups either had not encountered the main factions, or had decided to maintain their neutrality, often to protect themselves from inter-faction conflict. The former applied to the pretentiously named Darkblood Camp. It had been formed (and named) by the all-powerful Queen Darquesse, or at least that's how she demands others refer to her. Through brute force and sheer sadism she had forced the unwilling to cooperate, and instituted her own little dictatorship. Fear of her wrath meant the inhabitants remained peaceful and obedient, even as their tyrant queen surrounded herself in luxury. Those few that had dared rise up against her had soon discovered the extent of her power, and the depth of her sadism. Dissidents were forced to fight to the death in arenas, slaughtering their former comrades and allies, matches orchestrated to maximise suffering. Only one was allowed to leave in such tournaments, the rest had their mutilated remains decoratively placed around Darquesse's mansion.

Of course, even in the darkest corners of the world there is light, and not all of the residents of Camp Darkblood are evil. In fact, very many are kind souls, pushed into silent toil by Darquesse's oppressive rule. She required little of them, besides their stated obedience, and that they obey her vague laws. And so they simply waited, more people gradually gathering in this small camp. They either popped into existence, or waded here across the ocean from the land on the horizon, with no memories of why. But of course there was nothing there worth anyone's time, so people overall ignored it.

@thewizardguy

Unfortunately for Kyoko, she had no such luck in avoiding her tenure at Darkblood camp both due to the intimidation of the guards and the sheer fact of not knowing where to go, she found herself trapped there for roughly a week, her powers going haywire for the vast majority of the first day, forcing her to hide away from the population at large. Kyoko had been ripped, or more accurately slapped, from her rather mundane life as an office clerk by an odd being 'gifting' her wither her newfound and rather unsightly powers that she'd thankfully gotten under control for the most part though she could definitely still use work by most standards. Things had been going as well as they could be in the camp up until the moment the guards had rather suddenly realized that they'd never seen her working despite scurrying about around the place suspiciously, her hood up to hide her face and her shorts boyish enough to diguise her gender via androgyny at the very least.

It wasn't that she couldn't work, on the contrary she was quite capable, Kyoko's issues simply arose due to not knowing what to do in terms of work due to all neccessary jobs being filled in camp, leaving her as merely a stray that had wandered in and had yet to wander out. She also didn't help herself by attempting to run from the guards when she was stopped, fearing them despite most likely being far more powerful just simply due to their weaponry.

@Gentlemanvaultboy@supertinyking@thewizardguy

The young necromancer was, as usual, frowning. Damien held aloft a rosary made of bone and sinew, yet seemed to find no spiritual response. Disappointed, he glanced at Ozo with growing concern. He could tell something was still irking and haunting the ungainly fishlike creature. He heard Firebrand's news of the knight and the large mushroom, yet didn't appear to make any decision on it.

Damien glared daggers at the location where the unseen entity was harassing Ozo. No, he could not see the eye of the ancient deity with his human eyes, but he knew... a necromancer just knew. "I've had enough of this haughty, willful presence." Damien took a stick and began tracing a circle around them in the sand. "Step inside, unless you fear you have any conflict with the God of Law." Hiding a sadistic grin under his hood, he let Ozo and Firebrand decide if they were willing to offer their obedience to Asmodeus or not. Only the worthy were rewarded by their masters in Hell, and the worthy, made their own decisions.

He finished the circle with a pentagram on the inside and stood in the center, glaring askance at the others so that they did not marr the lines he had just drawn as they entered the circle. Satisfied, he crossed his wrists in front of him and stated his prayer. The words he spoke were in a language unfamiliar to Ozo, but to Firebrand it was fairly accurately recited Infernal. Damien was calling Asmodeus' sight to this place, inviting his attention upon them, as the great god wills it, of course. As the most powerful deity, Asmodeus would have the wherewithal to oust any other spiritual force from that circle and from those that were now HIS by being there. Whatever forces and magics, particularly diving or spiritual, would be dissipated.

Damien opened his arms and bowed. "It is done. We should be able to move about peacefully now. My lord demon, I will follow you. I would offer myself to be carried, but our new ally would certainly be left behind, and I do not yet know what part he is to play in the master's plans. If you would but give me a moment, I must take one further precaution."

Knowing he was a weak and still flesh and blood human, Damien had to work extra to bother preserving his own life. It was a chore, yes, and one that he would rather have been rid of, but he did not yet have the means nor the approval to become a lich. So he had to work.

Raising his arms again, his eyes reverting to a softly glowing ghostly white, Damien summoned a terrifying subject, a large, floating spectral wraith with a scythe, from within the circle. The air dimmed and grew cold around them as it appeared. Its very presence sparked an instinctual fear to run away... least your soul be eaten by it. Yet none of them ran. Fortunately, It seemed bound to Damien's will and wasn't going to harm them, but oh the look in its undead eyes screamed that it wanted to.

"We're not exactly friends, now are we?" Damien said to himself about the wraith as he ordered it to take invisible form. The horrifying thing opened its skeletal jaw as if to roar in protest, but only a chilled wind blew instead as it vanished. ... The air was still cold around them, and it was unnerving as hell not knowing exactly where that thing was. God help them if Damien lost control of it.

"Now we may go." And Damien started walking.

There were no 'guards', in the traditional sense, in Darkblood Camp. Darquesse was too powerful to require guarding, and possessed nothing of sufficient value to be worth stealing, considering the inevitable consequence of such. The people were 'policed' through a series of spies, the populace turned against one another as each knew that every other could be working for Darquesse. Undoubtedly it had been one, or several, of these spies that had spotted and reported Kyoko. But these spies were not tasked with retrieving anyone. Often Darquesse would deal with dissidents personally, but for lesser issues she had a group of 'Cleavers', grey-robed silent figures who strode forth from her mansion wielding scythes. Little was known about them besides that they were inhuman, absolutely loyal, and really damn fast. On the few occasions that they had been engaged in combat, it had been swift and brutal. It was these mysterious figures that apprehended Kyoko one fateful afternoon, and dragged her bodily to the mansion in the center of the camp.

She was pulled through the streets by a pair of cleavers, guarded by two more, and the citizens of Camp Darkblood parted and whispered as the procession passed through. The front of the mansion was a gory sight indeed, and there was a reason nobody lived in the nearby houses. The tall white walls were splattered with dried blood, several flayed corpses hanging from shackles brutally slammed into the rock. They writhed jerkily, mouths devoid of teeth opening and closing with empty, gurgling croaks. They thrashed, bleeding, not allowed to die, serving forever more as a reminder of what happened when you crossed Darquesse. Some fates were worse than death. It was not a reassuring sight, and might be the last thing Kyoko saw as she was prostrated before the massive wooden doors. With a heavy thud and creak they opened, and she was tossed inside with surprising strength. The wooden doors slammed shut behind her, and she could hear the lock clicking into place. It was a sensation not unlike being swallowed by some immense creature.

The inside of the mansion was surprisingly well-lit. A large chandelier boasted countless tiny crystals, which glimmered and shone in the light of the candles hung among them. Large windows let plenty of lights into the wooden hall, although from the silence she could tell they were designed to be soundproof. Two spiralling staircases lead up to the second floor, which looked out imperiously over the entrance hall. Where previously one of the bedrooms had stood, in the center of the elevated second floor, someone had torn out the walls and door to allow one to look out towards the entrance from the room below, which had been retrofitted into a makeshift throne room. The entrance was lit by two equally makeshift braziers, being someone's barbecue pit welded onto a set of metal pipes that were clearly not intended for this purpose.

Kyoko flew up the stairs, not of her own volition. She simply lifted off of the ground and seemed to float there on a solid carpet of air, like a leaf on the wind. She was deposited in just that throne room, about a meter from the glorious chair the room was named after. It was a fancy chair, with spikes and candles and a bunch of improvised additions, but it really paled in comparison to the figure who occupied it. Darquesse was about 18, based on her physical appearance, but there was an inhuman quality about her. Her skin was pale and unmarred, almost dollike, while her black eyes seemed to dig into Kyoko's soul. Her nails were perfectly manicured and dyed black, and she wore a surprising amount of make-up. She wore no 'clothes', technically, but was rather shrouded by a twisting cloud of shadows, a second skin of solid darkness that shifted and wriggled at her slightest thought. The shadows seemed to grow deeper as Darquesse looked down at Kyoko from her slightly elevated position, and the lights grew as the flames burned twice as tall. "My pets are wonderful creatures. They do the dishes, launder the clothes and walk the dog, as well as bringing me little treats like yourself. But they find themselves unfortunately lacking the brainpower to speak, even to their lovely mistress. So please, tell me, what got you dragged here? And don't bother lying, I can tell when people lie." The look Darquesse gave her was not malicious, but rather bored, as she absentmindedly played with a coil of hair. But a hint of a smile spoke of the dark possibilities in Kyoko's immediate future.

@thewizardguy

While Kyoko was a timid girl, her time as a nurse had left her with quite a bit better of a stomach than most and while the tortured souls on the walls were gruesome and quite frightening, she at least had the proper disposition to not leave her stomach contents at the door upon viewing them. Her passage into the house was not particularly voluntary or easily won as she did struggle quite heavily once caught and depending on the strength of the cleavers may have broken free swiftly though was simple enough to corall into an area she could not run in and detain via restraints. Upon landing within the house she writhed on the floor briefly, breaking from her restraints with vastly inhuman strength no matter the material available however she was helpless to resist the gust that had taken her from her position and brought her to the throne room, most likely dumping her unceremoniously where she lay at the foot of said throne.

"I don't know, really... some giant thing started going on a rampage and I guess i got hit trying to save a friend. Next thing I know I wake up in this place but no one will tell me where I am or why I'm here." She replies to the darkness enshrouded figure before her as she stands, her strength enough to either crush the floor beneath her or break through any force attempting to hold her down. In terms of magical sense she had an odd something about her, but otherwise appeared to be nothing more than the average person however her soul seemed oddly vacant of it's normal position if the Darquesse had such senses, denoting that she most likely came from a place without any magic of any sort and was left entirely a physical entity, incapable of learning or wielding the mystical machinations the Darquesse herself wielded as idly as breathing in any method, which might seem like quite the drab and sour existence to one such as her. Her words hadn't been the entire truth, however they had been true which was in line with a summerization of events rather than a complete retelling of things which would most likely bore her to tears and take at least hours of talking to fully go through. Physically Kyoko appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary human girl on the surface with her clothes denoting a more modern and peaceful life than what might be found on Arcadia, though it was easy to tell from the dirt as well as wear and tear apparent that she'd been here for at least a little bit, most likely no more than a week or so. However, her inhuman strength was sorely lacking control and was thus easily apparent in everything she did which seemed to frustrate the girl, meaning she'd likely gained it only recently and had only just learned to stop crushing EVERYTHING she touched. Though the look upon her face betrayed that she most likely didn't quite grasp the power she had on hand which left her still cowed by the Darquesse despite most likely housing enough power to at least equal her own on a physical level.

"Interesting. A shadow of a shadow, or perhaps even further. But it seems that you interacted with yet more shades from beyond your own realm, did you not? Certainly, there is a reason you know that name." Alucard floats down, smiling down at Mithias. The world seemed to have conspired to bring these shadows together, and Alucard briefly wondered if this was more than mere coincidence. Perhaps it was destiny that had brought this exchange to pass, that confronted him now with this shade. It was this thought that spared Mithias' life as Alucard looked him over, head cocked in silent contemplation. The seething swarm of teeth and claws that had devoured the Third Company was silenced, and tension filled the air as Alucard heard Mithias out. The words interested him little. He knew all he needed to know. "You chase shadows, and yet you are confronted by the real thing. The one you seek is dead, and has lain dead for a long time. You will not find him here. Although, perhaps, in this multiverse of shadows, perhaps you could have found him once more. Certainly you have wasted your chances in mistaking me for him, little vampire."

"You have come here of your own volition to confront me, despite my warnings. Your life is in my hands, and I am not known for my mercy. Indeed if I were merciful I would kill you now, it is certainly within my power. But I shall deign for you to continue your futile little struggle, and see how well you fare when destiny is arrayed against you." Alucard raised his fingers to his lips, and cut the tip of his index finger on one of his sharpened incisors. "I am not known for games either, so appreciate the exception I make here. If I am to end everything, I might as well squeeze what joy I can from the world's dying breath. I hereby condemn you, Mithias Vladomere, to slaughter all you hold dear. To wander, and fight, and struggle until you can no longer, and then to end the lives of your petty lords by your own hand. This shall be your curse." Like a flash of red Alucard streaked forward, and stabbed his hand through the younger vampire's heart. Mithias found himself impaled, but worse yet he could feel Alucard's vile blood mingling with his own. Just a few drops escaped into his bloodstream before Alucard drew back his hand, but he had seen first hand what even a single drop could do. Even now his body twisted and squirmed on the inside, his vampiric immune system struggling to fight off this foreign contaminant. "You will remain yourself for as long as you face me, Mithias, until the end of the world itself if you so please. But the moment you falter, in death or in dishonour, my touch will devour you, and twist you into the agent of your allies' destruction. I will watch you, always, with your own eyes. And I will enjoy seeing how long you last, how long preached morals and principles will keep you on your feet." Alucard allowed himself a chuckle, as if he had just said a bad joke. Then, the world went black.

An unknown amount of time later, Mithias would awaken on a beach unknown to him. The wound in his chest had closed, but a blackened scar reminded him of the infection that now festered within. It would grow inside of him and drive him insane, before turning him into a monster like the one that had first chased him out of the Atlantic. Or perhaps something worse. This was his fate, and the only way to escape it was to overcome the impossible and defeat Alucard. Of course, first he would have to figure out where he was.

(I leave the choice of where Mithias awakens up to you, Wraith. Pick any continent/faction/country).

---

It seemed that whatever mysterious presence had taken a liking to Tiny was not so easily dispelled. It seemed strange for a divine being, unlike the divine entities that Wraith was familiar with. It seemed old, unspeakably old, perhaps older than magic itself. However, the small ritual did seem to push it away, although it was clear that this ancient deity still had some claim on Ozo. Perhaps it was the shard of the magic-defying sword in Ozo's metaphysical gut that kept them tethered, or perhaps this entity was simply not impressed by Asmodeus, with beings such as this it was hard to tell. Perhaps, in the strange realm of Australia, even Asmodeus was not able to act to aid a loyal follower. Certainly, this place didn't seem keen on obeying any of the other rules laid out for it.

The group, heading towards the silver knight, found themselves encountering the same problem. They walked in circles despite knowing the way, occasionally crossing entire expanses of land that simply had not been there before. At one point it seemed they marched through the same damn forest area over a dozen times, each time with a subtly different landscape. As if they were being taken on a pretentious tour of all alternate versions of this small patch of trees. It was soon clear that if they were making any progress it was slow and impossible to measure, even taking to the air was often more disorientating than helpful. The group was forced to camp for the night, and continue their journey in the morning.

Early the next morning, as the group was waking up and packing their stuff (undoubtedly Damien had been able to conjure up a magical tent or two), the camp was approached by the figure they had been aiming to meet. Standing at a solid two-and-a-half meters, they were far too large for a normal human. However their heavy armour showed no skin, and it's formless nature betrayed no hints as to what form of creature might lie beneath. More telling was it's aura. As it approached the gathered adventurers found themselves strangely excited, emotions and thoughts shooting through their head at high speed. Sudden bursts of grief invaded into their minds, depression worming at the corners of their heart interspersed by bursts of unadulterated joy, sadistic glee and even love. Emotions running the full gambit of extremes coursed over them like sprays of water, an effect that made it profoundly hard to concentrate, or even form solid thoughts. In fact it was rather hard to decide how anyone felt about anything around this strange silent figure. What most certainly did not help was the constant sense that another was observing, some unspeakable entity was looking over the silver giant's shoulder, grinning at all of them. It was not the friendly kind of grin.

"Greetings, mortals. You should not be here, in this realm of mystery. But I suppose it's secrets are up for grabs." The figure's voice was like a whispering torrent, a cascade of whispers in a hundred voices singing in unison. Hoarse screams of pain and melodious orchestras conspired to assault the listener's ears, and in fact their very sense of self. This disorienting choir voiced the being's thoughts, but it was clear that this creature was not physically speaking, as much as projecting it's thoughts into a physical medium magically. "And yet, in this party walk disciples of different gods, from different realms. How interesting. You carry your false deities with you like a plague. I had not intended for this to become yet another game of chess." An emotional wave like a frown washed over the area, briefly simplifying the creature's confusing aura. But then it started up again, as it continued unabated. "This land does not welcome gods or mortals. But my brother is not the only one who can keep secrets. Tell me, mortals. What is it you seek here? Tell me what you desire, and I might grant it to you."

Examining the pitiful little girl in front of her, Darquesse considered an intimate and personal testing of it's apparent strength. Clearly it's abilities were significant, but it possessed no control, no skill with it's newfound powers. That lended credence to her story, quite probably she had only become eligible for whatever phenomena was sucking people into this place the moment she gained these powers. And in that very moment, she was whisked away to Wonderland. Fighting her would be no challenge. Perhaps once she had figured out how to throw a punch proper she'd rethink the offer, but for now she had far more important tasks to complete. She had no time to mess with random kids, unless.... hmmm. Well, she did need a 'volunteer'. Originally she had thought to use more Cleavers, but they lacked the willpower to serve her purpose. And it's not like anyone was expecting this girl to exit this house alive. There would be no issue if she just disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. Not that it night, but whatever.

"What a stunning oversight indeed. It appears you've just been scrounging by, not a clue where you are or why. Allow me to remedy that for you, shall I not? You're currently in my little sandbox, and someone's been messing with my toys." Darquesse smiled, and gestured broadly outward. After a moment it became clear that this gesture was meant to encompass Darkblood Camp, if not the whole world. "I'm not entirely sure who it is, or why, either. You're here because I would like your help solving that little mystery, no? And don't bother considering the offer, I'm not exactly asking." Darquesse gave Kyoko her sweetest smile as she stood up, and a gesture launched Kyoko onto her feet, willing or no. "But first let's see if you qualify, shall we not? I'm going to need to get you into proper shape if we're going to be doing anything. After all, while throwing lemmings into a meat grinder is certainly amusing, it's not exactly productive. Unless you're trying to grind lemmings, I suppose." Laughing, Darquesse whisked Kyoko of her feet, and before she knew it she was in a completely different area, with no knowledge of how she'd gotten here.

The new area was large, underground, and dark. The air was filled with the rotten scent of corpses mixed with a strange chemical smell, like ammonia. The ground under her feet was hard-packed earth, and illumination was provided by a few fireballs floating around the place. The ease with which Darquesse moved around in the shadows showed that these fireballs were there for her benefit, rather than anything else. "One of my favourite arts is the art of Necromancy, as I'm sure you've heard. So I could just cut you open, stitch you back together and call you a cleaver. But the task I want you for requires a bit more... autonomy. Good news for you, I suppose." A passing fireball illuminated a set of long white tables, likely looted from a hospital, upon which lay several stitched-up bodies. Single corpses, with wires and vials plugged into them and several runes carved into their flesh. Some of them were moving, and a rack of grey overcoats made clear that this was where the Cleavers were made. As for where the 'materials' were gathered.... who knew. "So, tell me about yourself. What's your favourite food, what was your job, star wars or star trek? Oh, and, can you actually fight? Like, even a little bit? Cuz if you can't you'd better pick it up fast, girl. It's a dangerous world out there." Darquesse winked at Kyoko, even as her hands quickly opened up a nearby corpse to remove several organs, and then stitched it back up.

@thewizardguy @Wraithblade6
((I was approved to do this by Wraithblade6.))
Martin arrived, abit to late. Having driven after where he had least gotten reports of Xelrath, he arrived only to find blue ocean waters. "..Damn it all! I needed to find that blue moron....That coc..wait...what's that? Suzzie, scan for lifeforms in the water. I think I see someone..." Martin says to the station's A.I. And indeed, a singular humanoid figure came up on the shallow scans, which ignored the many microbes which inhabited the sea. Quickly, a robotic drone flies down to capture this man overboard. After dragging the vampire back onto the ship, Martin was taken aback by just what Mithias was, upon closer inspection.
"..A..vampire..." Martin says, his breath rattling in his chest, fear taking hold. Space Station 13 had seen its share of vampires. Terrifying undead monsters that could destroy even the most well armed Sec-Force. However, this one was different, the sun didn't reduce him to a crisp, and neither did the waters below. This thing, was unlike the vampires he knew. This terrified him, but also, excited him.
Three mechs, Riply mechs, slow, but very powerful, watched over the sleeping vampire, each one equiped with a grabbing tool, to restrain Mithias if need be, and on the other hand, a small chaingun, able to pump out 12000 rounds every minute, double the fire rate of a modern minigun. These three mechanized sentinels watched over him, as both protectors, and as jailors for the moment. As did Martin himself, holding a flask of holy water, and a cross.
"....Wakey Wakey princes..." Martin says, gently having one of the mechs nudge Mithias in an attempt to wake him.

Firebrand quickly stepped out of the circle as Damien carved it into the earth. "The first thing every young demon learns is that it's always better to be on the outside of one of these." He said, while straining his senses to catch whatever it was that Damien had picked up on. He wasn't picking up on anything, but leave it to a magic user to see the unseen. It was reassuring when the human announced that whatever presence he had felt was being suppressed, and strangely reassuring when he summoned what looked like a Skeleton Murderers older, nastier cousin. The spectral wasn't welcome and the thing assured them with presence alone that when it got free it was going to fillet the lot of them and feast mightily upon their immortal souls, but that was part and parcel for any bound spirit. Expected. Honestly it was just being professional.

"Right behind you." Firebrand said, setting out after Damien. "Hopefully we don't end up like that knight."

---

There was a loud CRACK that resounded through the pathetic patch of trees as another tree came crashing to the ground. Firebrand wiped his forehead and then fell upon the fallen thing like a demon possessed, knocking his head against against the fallen wood to until it was cracked into manageable chunks. He had heard humans sometimes knocked their heads against things to work out their frustrations, but he had done this five times tonight and it was not working. He gritted his teeth as he ran out of tree to murder, and kicked the smashed wood into a pile with a growl. "Damnable Arthur, do you best me even now?" he said under his breath. "What am I doing wrong?"

He had no idea how Arthur hadn't gone insane, but then again the man had to have been half mad already to have invaded the Ghoul Realm by himself. All day they had been caught in this looping weird space, with no idea whether or not they were making progress. What trick had his nemesis used to beat this? He'd killed an lot of things, but there was nothing out here for Firebrand to kill. He'd broken a lot of things, so Firebrand had started breaking the occasional tree or big rock searching for some sort of "power up" or key. That had also come to nothing except perhaps some strange glances from his companions. He certainly hoped Arthur hadn't forced his way through the spell with the power of love alone, because that meant Firebrand was out of luck.

He scooped up the wood and brought it back to the meager camp site they'd been forced to set up and the raging fire he had built in the center of it. It wasn't the most subtle thing in the world, but it kept the damn specters chill off and watching it burn made him feel better. He dumped the wood in a pile unceremoniously beside the fire and threw a few more in, watching the flickering flames and thinking about how he should have taken a greater interest in the land he and his troop had been protecting. He hadn't paid much thought to Lord Astaroth's spell at the time. It kept people out and that was what mattered. Now he was kicking himself for not knowing the mechanics behind the magic. He probably wouldn't understood, not having a mind for that sort of thing, but anything he remembered would certainly be of help now.

"Hmmmm..." he grumbled. "Magic." He looked around for his companions. "Well, now that we have a moment." He got up, the pleasant heat of the fire quickly fading even a little ways away from it as the cold of the night and the specter smothered it, and made his way over to Damien. "There's something I want to show you. Ozo! Come here a moment. You too." He said, withdrawing from his armor a old and weathered scroll. He unfurled it, showing the blank face to the human and the fish. "This is Ghoul Realm vellum." He explained. "It's a container for holding magic. All you have to do is open it and it will cast any one spell inscribed within, no matter how complex, all on its own. Then it will go blank again and be ready to receive the next spell. No idea how they're made, but they're rare where I'm from. I've got five of them."

He closed the scroll. "Most demons don't expect even a legendary Gargoyle to attack them with proper magic. My species isn't the scholarly sort. It makes for a nasty surprise." He held the scroll out to Damien. "If you can scribe anything you think might be useful then we can divide them up. I'll keep two. Ozo can carry two. You can carry one for emergencies. What do you say?"

---

Regardless of what happened the previous night, the rising of the sun brought with it the Knight. He was even more monstrously impressive close up, but while the mental assault was overwhelming this armor wasn't nearly as intimidating as the one they had faced only yesterday. Firebrand wondered for a moment if there wasn't a little man, comparatively, in this one as well. But this he doubted. More than likely they didn't want to know what was in there.

What was more intimidating was the area just behind the knight. He hadn't been able to feel what was watching them yesterday, but something was definitely looking now. He wondered if that meant it had stopped trying to be subtle after being found out yesterday, it'd stopped being subtle because its enforcer was present, or whether this was an entirely different entity. Nevertheless, it was only watching. The Knight was speaking. Firebrand stepped forward. He'd wanted to meet this man, so he didn't intent to waste an opportunity. "It's a good thing, then, that I'm neither god nor mortal." He said, resolve pushing its way through the torrent of emotions swirling with him. "I'm not here on behalf of god or lord or any of the great powers of this world. I felt something change. I want to know what, and get ahead of it if I can. I was given a promising lead I followed to this place."

"Now that I've given you my answer," Firebrand continued, folding his arms. "It's only honorable to receive yours in turn. What is it you seek here? You certainly seem to be in a similar situation to us from what I saw yesterday."