Xaltwind

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

It's fine if you write it about it dying in your post. It's just a mook after all. Don't forget to include the part about, y'know, Yinha's arm being given a very severe indian-burn though...

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

Kaze so angreh! No sympathy for his beloved allies at all! Such a meanie! :<

Meanwhile, Ciel's still the most precious cinnamon bun in the story.

EDIT;

I'm gonna try and have the Church-fight end this week, so we can get rolling with the real story and not get bogged down in the prologue.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

Given that Yinha thought she was safe with her illusions, and moving would most likely have caused her magic holy+fire circle to not work anymore, I think it's fair to assume she thought she was safe and could remain still.

Also, please remember that Kaze doesn't show any physical, outward signs of being blind - in case you were thinking to be clever and just suddenly decide to cast a dispel or cure on him randomly... ;)
You'd realistically have to have Kaze post before Yinha and do something like ...

"RAAAAAAAAAAH! MY EYES! I CAN'T SEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" *topples over and kicks in the air like a baby*

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

Early update, but I wanted to make up for last week's delay.

Some notes though:

- Kaze is now under the effect of "Blind". He cannot see, and the spell cannot be removed by physical means, such as potions or regenerative natural abilities. It's a magic, curse-like effect that will last until either dispelled, or until cured by a Curse-removing prayer or holy magic.
- Atua is not dead, not yet at least. However, she does now suffer from a cracked skull, a cracked neck and the after-effects of electrocution. Since she was being controlled, she wasn't able to use her natural agility and was more rigid and stiff than usual, which caused the blow to have a greater effect than usual.
- The zombie currently holding onto Yinha won't last for very long. Fire and Holy damage do a lot of DPS to zombies. Sadly, illusion-magic is practically worthless on undead that don't use sight. Remember, these are puppets, they're being directed and told where to go and what to do. You could create a thousand naruto-like shadow clones, and they'd still ignore all of them and only go for the 'real' individual. Zombies are really annoying.

But, hey! At least you've managed to whittle down the enemy forces to just one psychotic priest and a handful of bumbling flesh-eating corpses! Progress is being made~

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

At the Church:

The unfortunate thing about zombies, and indeed most all undead, was that they didn't actually see using their eyes. Sure, some higher level cretins, like Vampires or Ghouls might, but low-level minions with rotted eyeballs, or empty eye sockets, didn't have much use for the whole 'sight'-thing. Naturally then, as sight was the primary sense that was effected by illusions, it stood to reason that such magic wasn't very effective against them... Which the high elf angel-summoner would quickly realize.

Outright ignoring her duplicates, and shambling straight for her, it wasn't long efore two of the gentleman in dire need of a dentist, and gravedigger, would pass into her range. Of course, her spell that caused holy damage was effective at harming the creatures of the night, but without any ability to feel pain, such an aura didn't really stop them, and it was hardly powerful enough to evaporate the meandering corpses as soon as they entered the field. What's worse, even though the spell set them ablaze, the walking corpses didn't seem to noitce that either, gurgling and hissing as their already stanky bodies began to emit foul-smelling smoke and the stench of singed hair and flesh. But perhaps the worst part was that the one of the creatures clutched onto the high elf's arm... While on fire... And gripped around it as if trying to wring out a wet rag.

Meanwhile, the male elf's attack on the archer had proven successful! ... Too successful. After having slammed a full metal shield into the woman's head, and added lightning to it, not only had he managed to fracture her forehead, but also crack her neck and caused electrocution. After flying backwards and crashing onto the dusty floor, the woman lay mostly motioneless on the ground, with the occassional muscle-spasm in her limbs. Her bow was dropped though, and from the looks of it, she wasn't going to get back up, so at least that threaty was averted! ... Though, the possiblity also existed that she wouldnt get back up, ever, from here on out...

The lizardman's fancy footwork and increased speed seemed to catch the deranged priest off-guard. The continued flicking aside of his onslaughts and the pararying of his swift, manic blows kept the madman focused and growing ever more and more agitated with his opponent. Spilling out insults mixed with his lunatic ramblings and preachings of nonsensical gibberish, the cleric was cleverly caught in the trap that the berbarian-monk had laid. And when the counter-attack came, it seemed all waas over! ... Except, it wasn't. As soon as the blow came racing towards him, Maxwell somehow unnaturally shifted his decripit-looking form, taking the blow, but having both adjusted himself and rolling with the punch, it didn't quite have the effext Kaze had aimed for.

Sure, the cleric was flung backwards and skittered across the floor like a wooden toy soldier thrown away by a child in a tantrum. But within moments, the priest threw his legs up onto the air, arched his back and flipped onto his legs once more, like he was some kind of monkey-man-acrobat or something. He craned his neck from side to side, made weird, wavy motions with both arms and flexed his struck shoulder, an unpleasnt, crackling, cartirdgey-noise resounding from it. His twitchy eyes flickered over to the beaten-down archer, before returning to look at Kaze. A look that was some kind of mix between disgust, mortification and fury was plastered all across it. Basically, he was looking like even more of a psycho than before.

"In-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n.... INCONCEIVABLE!" The man shouted, slashing around himself with his bony blades, before stopping suddenly, as if freeze-framed. His neck twisted almost 90 degrees as he stared at the lizard. "Enough games. There's no more to see. Heretic. Heathen. Ffffffffffffffffffffrog!" He sputtered, a very annoying sneer spreading across his lips.

And then, he muttered some of his strange, pseduo-latin-sounding words again.

And that was it, for Kaze.

The lizardman could see nothing. He could hear the madman cackling like.... Well, a madman. But he couldn't see. And it wasn't like in those comic books or fantasy-novels you read, where when you lose one sense, your other senses get stronger. Kaze's hearing and sense of smell were no better than before, but he was now blind. Completely blind. Of course, neither the Paladin nor the Mage could actually see any difference, since his eyes looked fine from an onlookers outside perspective, but Kaze had been robbed his sight, struck by a Blind-spell. And as this was neither an affliction caused by physical interference, nor some kind of injury, no matter what abilities the lizardman had to recover from naturally inflicted status-ailments, unless he knew how to dispel magic, or pray for a cure to blindness, he would not be seeing anyhing anytime soon - at least not until he found someone who could remove the effect.

Vani's taunt, meanwhile, did manage to draw one of the zombies towards him. But apart from the one lying a ways away - that had been used as a human(?) shield - and the one that the angel mage's summon had cleaved, the majority of the remaining corpses were still heading for the busty spellcaster, rather than the ragged, worn-down knight.

Meanwhile....

"General!"
"Report."
"Yes, sir! Our forces have managed to push forward and claim the northern gate! We're still having trouble in the south, but it doesn't look like there's much resistance further east. Once we claim the east gate, our forces will be able to pincer the south and-"
"Enough. I know how things will work out, son. You don't need to explain simple tactics to me."
"Y-Yes, General, forgive me."
"Let's just hope whatever's in there is worth all this extra work... "
"Should I relay orders to begin heading for the center of the ruins then?"'
"No, not yet. Capture all the gates first. Make sure there's nowhere anyone can escape outside. By now, I'm willing to bet someone's already found whatever this prize is supposed to be. We'll simply have them hand it over to us when we find them."
"... What if they don't want to relinquish it, sir?"
"..."
".... S- Sir?"
"Then we attain it the way the Empire always obtains what it wants."
"Oh... O-of course, sir."

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

You lot at the Royal Plaza, do you need my intervention? Or do you want to keep talking amongst yourselves? There's no immediate rush, since Team Church-Busters are still busy fighting, but you've all been very silent this week, so I thought I'd check in, just in case.

Overlord: Momento Mori

We don't need no stinkin' police force managing our lives, man!
What we need is a stinkin' council managing our lives, man!

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Overlord: Momento Mori

(Collab with @Enkryption and @The Irish Tree)

Trees are Terrible People

Ashara was surprised, to say the least, when the cultist leapt into the air and - by some means - managed to reach her elevated magic platform. What was even more surprising was when the lunatic somehow managed to shatter and break it, causing the fox to plummet towards the ground, rather than gently and slowly descend at a snail's pace. But perhaps most alarming of all was the proverbial mouth of stoney teeth that now awaited below, and which would surely make a meal out of her in the next few seconds unless something was done.

Really, it was only a handful of seconds, if even that, that Ashara had to decide on a course of action, less she wanted to end up as newly mangled fertilizer for this nutjob and his Tree-lord. Swinging her spear out in arc, aiming away from both the cultist and the stone protrusions, she let out a hurried set of words.

"[Rocket Spear]!"

Instantly, a jet of what appeared to be fire erupted from the butt-end of her spear's haft, and sent Ashara flying sideways. Unfortunately, this skill wasn't ever intended to be used while airborne, much less while falling, and with only one arm holding her spear, controlling the direction and trajectory proved... Difficult.

Difficult to the point that Ashara not only crashed down into the ground several feet away, but also kept sliding across the ground until a sturdy oak-like tree stopped her, with a loud 'thwomp' as she smacked into it. Had the situation been less life-threatening, it might have looked humorous. But there was no time to spend on being ashamed or embarrassed about her mishap, so instead the fox sprung back onto her feet, whirled around and readied her spear with both arms this time. Gromgard was still lying face-down a ways away and wasn't offering any help, and the goblins he had brought along could barely handle the remaining mook-cultists who lingered in the treelines. What was she to do now? Whenever she attacked the Tree, the Tender just leapt in front of her attacks... If only someone else could distract the man, or alternatively attack the Tree while she distracted the man...

"Last I checked, kittens didn't fly," purred a smooth voice, as Ashara's center of gravity radically changed from crashed into a tree to moving rapidly at a significant pace. However, she was securely held by a pair of strong arms, and there was a familiar scent of horse and an equally familiar sound of a horse at work. "Hang on, little kitten," came the gentle, yet firm order. "Volleys at the ready! Explosive Arrows! Ready! Aim! Fire!"

Overhead, blazed a full score of explosive-tipped arrows, launched from horseback, as the Beta Survivors rode through the zone, and maneuvered their steeds.

"It's Ashara, isn't it? Ashara Masamune, little kitten," asks the Overseer of Beta, Alexander. "How adorable a damsel in distress you make." Alexander looked back, "Keep firing! Break it, and expose it for all weakness! Then, crush it! For Glory! For Honor!"

Heeding her order to the letter, the Beta Survivors rode their horse expertly, as trained by Alexander, and fired their composite longbows to launch arrow after arrow in a twenty-man cavalry skirmish; opening the way for Alexander to ride out Ashara and only the Maiden.

The arrows launched by the troops of Beta would find purchase in the flesh of the nightmarish tree, countless faces disappearing amidst a tide of blood and fire that cascaded down the side of the oaken monstrosity, while its Tender would bat away a series of arrows with a swipe of his hand, howling as he saw his precious altar dessicated, his actual physical form starting to bulge beneath his cloak, as if his very flesh was struggling to keep it together. Rampaging, the Tender would approach the Mimic troops at breakneck speeds, decapitating a mimic before suddenly feeling a weight land upon his shoulder.

”My my...such anger. All for a plant. I was starting to think that just maybe you had an appreciation for the finer things...but, alas,” the feline chapter keeper would lament, before raking his razor sharp claws against the grove tender’s back as he leapt away, narrowly avoiding a strike while laying a curse upon him. ”You’re just a madman with a green thumb,” he said with a cheshire grin, the Tender’s vision growing dark as he wildly flailed around, completely blind to the cat slowly encircling him.

Ashara meanwhile, was a bit confused to say the least. She knew not who this person who had picked her up, nor who these people on horseback who had come to her and her companions aid. After all, the fox had never met these mimics before, nor heard - or if she had, she had forgotten - anything about them. As such her initial reaction was that of stupefied surprise and noncomprehension.

However, at the repeated occurrence of being called a 'kitten', when she was most assuredly a 'puppy' did not sit well with the white-haired beauty and her nine tails. Nor did it sit well with her to be called a damsel in distress and being suddenly plucked from the battlefield to be ferried off while others interceded on her part. Not only was it rude, but it was also incredibly disrespectful, and even if Ashara wasn't the smartest lass around, she at least understood this much.

As such, she let out a 'hmph', before pushing herself free of the rider's arms, doing not but a simple yet graceful landing upon the ground, with the bells around her ankles jingling merrily as she touched down upon the grassy surface once more. She looked back at the battlefield, where some of the poor, brave souls who had come to their aid had already lost their lives, and Lord Chompy Bits had finally decided to act. Turning her head back to look at her self-appointed savior, the fox spoke loud enough to be heard, though it was not loud enough to be yelling.

"I thank you for your aid, stranger. But I am no damsel, nor a kitten." The fox said. Though she was typically polite and would smile, Ashara was still under the effects of Chompy's blessing, as well as feeling insulted and having been forcefully removed from her mission momentarily. She didn't sound rude or annoyed, but she didn't seem particularly pleased or friendly either.

Readjusting her haori, which had slightly slid off her shoulder during the snatch-and-grab, she then proceeded to swing her spear around herself and stick it in the ground beside her. She wouldn't need it for what she was about to do.

"[Purgatory: Grand Spirit Sphere]." She said, not yelled, as she held both arms above her head.

Slowly, a small globe of purple and black materialized above both her spread palms, before beginning to slowly spin in a lazy, counter-clockwise rotation. As it spun, it slowly seemed to grow in size, and one could even see the very air and wind bend and twist around it. Within a second, it had grown from the size of a golf ball to the size of your average soccer ball, and it would keep on growing. The fox was betting on that, now with the new arrivals and Lord Chompy Bits having stepped in to help distract the foul Tender, she would be free to unleash one of her more powerful and time-demanding attacks. As a charge-up skill, the Grand Spirit Sphere could be launched at any time, of course, but the longer one waited, the more powerful it became...

As such Ashara just stood where she was, next to her golden spear in the ground, with her robe, tails and hair fluttering ever more violently in the winds generated by the growing magic attack she was about to unleash.

"Oh, ho? Are we doing something special, little kitten," Alexander asked, as she unholstered the Engraved Revolver Ariamis from her belt. "Well, I don't wanna be left out of the fun," she says, before whistling, "Trade up! Revolvers out! We're ending this!"

As a unit, the nineteen Beta Survivors rallied into a large circle, and committed to circumvallation. Sheathing their longbows into their dominant arm, they drew out the same revolver, and extended their non-dominant arm to forge a sphere of magic. Alexander and her Beta Survivors chanted off a series of Arcane and Divine Spells, in rapid succession, before calling out the spell in play: Big Iron Justice Bringer.

The sphere burst into a speed loader, and slammed the bullet into the cylinder loader. "Ready! Lock! Aim!" Alexander called out, as if directing a firing squad at an execution. "For Glory! For Honor! For Gothika! Fire!"

The grove tender’s body was rittled with bullets which, despite the lower levels of the archers, still put a fair dent into his armor as his cloak was torn completely to shreds, with Lord Chompy Bits catching a few stray bullets which mean that a few archers would unceremoniously drop dead from the counterattack curse he had in place. Not that the cat would care. Ashara’s magical blast would be one the tender could not avoid, light engulfing him before the ball detonated, throwing up smoke and red dirt into the air.

Once the dust settled, the group would find that the Tender was significantly damaged, but not defeated, one of his arms hanging on by a thread...quite literally. What had been obscured by a small amount of leather armor and a cloak was revealed to be a body patched together with magic, string, and no small amount of twisted genius to cobble together the frankenstein of a man that stood amidst the grove of madness. ”No. No. No. NO. NO. NO.” the Tender stated, the tree he had so tenderly raised burnt to a crisp by the magical blast and gunfire, countless eyes in place across his body leaking tears as he screamed, flailing madly, savagely as he started to attempt to rip Ashara apart, his careful strikes gone for raw brutality and strength in his madness. ...For those with sympathy, it might be a sorrowful sight. But for those who were focused on victory, it meant nothing more than that he had completely lost his composure.

"Reload! Rearm! Fire!" Alexander commanded. She cared nothing for his tree, his hopes, his dream, or his actions. His death would bring her glory and honor, and that was all that mattered. As everything burned, she simply held a victorious smirk, before she stated, "Ashes, in the end, are ashes, and nothing good comes from wet ashes. So, save your tears for Hell. You'll need them."

As the now-clearly dying Tender lashed out with what remained himself, putting all his strength and ferocity into attacks and swipes that were like those of an enraged and frightening, but sadly predictable, beast that had been cornered, Ashara's eyes went half-closed. Having retrieved her spear right after launching her Grand Spirit Sphere, the lancer-fox was able to block or dodge the incoming, brutal attacks - though the difference in strength was rather apparent. Had the Tender not lost his mind, and instead used this kind of tactic but with more skill and precision from the start, he would likely have been able to beat Ashara handedly simply by the sheer difference in their strength.

However, as things were, he was little more than a powerful animal now, clawing and scratching and flailing with his impending death hounding his heels so close by you could taste it. With the continued firing of the Mimics, pelting the lunatic's body with bullets from behind, it was only a matter of time before he would cease to be amongst them, the living. Not that this... Thing... Could be considered to have ever been alive in the first place, Ashara felt disgusted just looking at the patchwork puppet of a man.

Still, slowly whittling him down and was a rather tasteless way to handle things. Even if he was a creature of pure evil, and lacking any faculties of sanity anymore, Ashara did not like the idea of anyone being killed slowly and painfully. It was cruel and unnecessary. As such, after a particularly heavy swipe, one that could have easily torn the fox-girl's head off had she not backstepped, the spearwoman took the opportunity to finally counter-attack the mad dog.

"I bid you farewell, my adversary. [Impale: Throat]." She said solemnly, in a quiet voice, before she and her spear dashed forward at speed close to on par with the Tender's own, aiming to run his neck and lower head through with her shiny, golden spear.

Impaled would his head be, and yet, the grove tender’s assault did not stop. Whatever supernatural force animated this bizarre amalgamation of flesh was something beyond biology and logic. A hissing sound could be heard erupting from the destroyed neck, as if “something” within the body was retreating further in, the cult leader’s ribcage suddenly pushing out from his torso to grab Ashara from the sides, beginning to crush her with brutal force. It was intent to break the executioner’s spine, ignoring the now combative Gromgard’s efforts to bash apart the being from behind, even resisting his attempts to use fire magic to free Ashara from his crushing hold.

Lord Chompy Bits, seeing this clinging being would sigh. ”Such a sore loser. Much as I’m loath to do a favor for someone else, I wouldn’t hear the end of it if I just stood by and watched you get crushed like a bug. As such…boop,” the feline would say, before jamming his paw to be impaled on one of the ribs holding Ashara, a swarm of feline ghostly images assaulting the corpse and knocking it back. Now leaning with one paw bloodied, the feline would lick it and say: ”Go on then. You all finish it off. I need a nap after this…too bad we’ll have to burn this place to the ground. It would have made such a lovely addition to the nightmare…”

“Move feline,” Alexander says, running her booted toe against Lord Chompy Bits side, and punting him away. “Honorless scum like you have no right to give commands. Take your nap out of my sight, you heathen,” she snarled, rubbing her boot in the dirt, as if the dirt was cleaner, before she picked up the twitching beast. “Tell me, kitten, do you wish to kill this pathetic beast,” Alexander asks. “It did attack you in depressing desperation, after all.”

Now freed from the crushing, Ashara, sitting on her kees, taking several deep breaths and gently rubbing the sides of her ribs through her clothing, looked up at the woman who held the barely moving remains of their enemy. The fox simply shook her head.

"I do not wish to kill anyone, Miss. I was ordered by our Lord Rodias to slay all those belonging to the Masked Ones in this grove, and that is what I- We, have done." She said simply. "I hold no grudge against this poor, miserable creature. It tried to kill us, just as we have been killing it and its allies." She breathed out and got onto her legs, standing once more, albeit a bit shaky. "Holding petty, vengeful spite towards an enemy, such foolishness is beneath me." The woman said, elegant as always, she composed herself and smiled softly once again - the effects of Lord Chompy Bits' boon having seemingly worn off by now, and Ashara having returned to more or less who she usually was.

"Of course, do not let me stop you from dismembering this creature, if you so desire, madam. After all, it appears that is your enemy as well." She added, lightly tilting her head.

“Dismembering,” Alexander asks. “I’m hardly so crass. I have a better idea,” she says, as her chest suddenly opened, and she crammed the twitching beast in. “I’ll take this back to Rodias,” Alexander says. “Perhaps, the Fledgling Lord might impress for once with his decision.”

Ashara simply looked at the woman for a brief moment, before turning her head to look at Gromgard, then at Lord Chompy Bits - who had been unceremoniously booted to the side previously. It seemed neither of them were hurt, not in any greater capacity at least. Gromgard might have a bit of a bruised ego, having left himself open to being punched away, but other than that, they were all still very much alive and in good condition - even if the fox did feel a bit winded and tired from her final exchange with the grove's tender.

Closing her eyes, she used her ability to sense auras, searching the vicinity for traces of any remaining enemies. However, it seemed that the goblins and the newly arrived cavalry had dealt with all the lower life forms that had been around the area, meaning that their job was largely done. Though Chompy had said they'd need to burn this place, Ashara didn't quite understand why. Wouldn't that just put the entire forest at risk of being burnt down? Well, he was a Chapter Keeper after all, so perhaps he knew something she didn't. Or perhaps it was some kind of insurance? It didn't matter, she had no fire-related skills other than her Fox Fire, and it was not suited for setting a large area aflame.

Although she felt this newcomer was being rude towards her master with her final words before dvouring the tender, Ashara had no intention of arguing or chastising someone. Not here, not now. They had been helped a great deal by this woman and her riders, so for now, the fox would show gratitude. That is, until a lot of talking suddenly filled her head.

She staggered backwards a bit, dropping her spear out of surprise. Holding one hand to her temple, she blinked a few times before realizing what was going on. Graft had opened one of his channels to her, and now there seemed to be something going on back at the Chateau? Rodias was asking what to do, and a lot of people were speaking - in turn - but each having, so far, varyng opinions and ideas.

"... It is just like the first meeting all over again..." Ashara murmured, inaudibly, just as Kaldrona finished her piece on the matter.

"Later, kitten," Alexander says, as she headed back to her horse. If Ashara wanted to say anything, she'd have a limited period of time to do so.

"Ah, yes. Farewell, Miss. Thank you for your timely assistance." The fox stated, ashs he lifted her head and glanced over to the other woman as she mounted her... Mount. The fox offered a polite bow, as she typically did, before returning to listening to the discussion in her head.

"Mount up! We ride for home!" Alexander ordered, as she did so herself, and the warband took off.

Nursing his pride after being kicked, Lord Chompy Bits would wordlessly walk away, grinning slightly as he approached the dying tree, the faces on it all weeping as it bled every ounce of mortal life force it had, the cat’s paw laying softly on the trunk before insects poured forth, devouring the whole of it in a matter of minutes, before the cat would silently walk off in a different direction than the Chateau, not bothering to answer the question proposed by Rodias, if he could even hear it.

Overlord: Momento Mori

I need to get a post up, but I feel like I'll miss a few things. Everyone is still around the climax hour talking about what htey're going to do right?

@Archmage MC

Nope. Everybody rebelled and threw Rodias out the window, then they got undressed and started doing the balloon-dance in a conga-line down to the Beast Pens, where they ended up eating Flan with spoons, carved from larger spoons.

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Overlord: Momento Mori

So it would seem. Wow, they've all got really impressive stats. Why does the Chateau even have any other NPCs when Enderall can just pump these bad boys out? :P

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