RP:Azakhaerian Improvisation for Catastrophic Conflicts
Part of the The Ice Plague Cometh Arc
Small Camp
Kasyr , or rather the creature, is not too difficult to track- in part due to the path of seared and blighted turf it leaves in it's passage, but more prominently due to the actual 'pace' of it's travels. If the sheer plethora of mangled armour and ravaged bodies which have been left in it's wake are any indication, the beast has been taking the time to stop and devour just about every giant which has asofar crossed it's path- though, there definitely appears to be a preference for the exiles, and the loathsome deathknights which belong to that faction. Further up along that path, that familiar scent of ozone would begin to grow more pungent, intermingled with the reek of smoke and freshly spilled blood.
Satoshi hardly needs the bloody brick road to show her the way to Kasyr, but it certainly makes the trek easier--as far as walking goes, less so easier on the mind. At least his devouring of his kills spares the magus from having to put any poor soul out of their misery, and thus lets her trudge on with as little glancing from side to side as she can imagine. Satoshi is far from a squeamish person, yet she finds the sights unsettling, if only because she knows the carnage has been wrought by a husband run amok and bestial. A husband she needs to find a way to stop, as much to protect Frostmaw as himself. It won't be long before word gets out and would-be heroes come looking to slay the monster. With this in mind, Satoshi finally reaches a point where the bodies are fresh, the blood hardly beginning to freeze, and it's here she stops. Finding a small mound that's more frost than corpse, the magus sits down crosslegged to rest upon her knee the lyre she's been carrying tucked close to her chest. Almost tentatively, Satoshi plucks at the chords to draw out a handful of quiet notes. Taking solace in the pure ring of the chords, the magus' hands trace out a melody, a nocturne that beckons and coaxes. Countless times she's played the instrument, she knows its every line in intimate detail, but never before has she used it to try and lure Kasyr to her, or for such a vital purpose. She has no doubt he'll feel the notes being played as an ethereal tug, although whether he heeds the beckoning song or not, she'll have to wait and see.
Within moments of that first tentative note, a horrible keening begins to ring through the air- countless voices young and shrill crying out their horror to the heavens, rising to a fever pitch within moments, even as parts of their terrible choir grow strangled and fall quiet. And then the beast's voice erupts into the air, a savage howl full of fury and frustration- drowning out those pleading piteous voices, and leaving none left in it's passing. It's then that a rustling sounds itself through the trees, as something is sent crashing and careening through the branches towards Satoshi. Something fragile, as the sounds of cracking and tearing which emanate from it, are distinctly different from that of the wood it impacts into.
Satoshi's playing doesn't cease even as the crashing comes closer. All that changes is a slight shift in the melody, a command delivered to the bloody snows around her to rear up in the shape of a frozen wall. When the corpse of a Frost Giant child collides into the wall, Satoshi's hands falter on the lyre's chords, momentarily delayed as she watches the broken body slump to the ground. Satoshi heaves a heart-weary sigh then, shoulders drooping miserably. This explains the waves of raw jealousy Kasyr's been giving off. She's not unfamiliar with the bitter taste of envy each time she sees a mother or father with their child, and the revenant's feeling it tenfold in his present state. It taxes what little physical and emotional reserves the magus has. But with renewed determination, Satoshi resumes her song so that the lyre weaves a tune of allure and challenge both, calling Kasyr away from his massacre, inviting him to face her alone.
For a brief moment, that odious beast is free of the Lyre's siren call- and is able to engage in one last bout of savage revelry, free of Requiems' shackles. A low rumbling noise emanates from it's throat as it stalks forward amidst the ruins of the exile camp, it's massive tail lashing frantically behind itself, gouging out tufts of turf with each movement. Somewhere in it's peripheral vision, a mother and her children begin to crawl out from the ruins of a tent, moving towards the cover of the woods. And yet, it's further ahead that's caught the bestial 'felines' attention- at the 'brave' coalition of men and boys which have gathered to protect the largest gathering of survivors. The Black Beast moves to step forward, it's paw digging into the ground before itself - ..and then it feels those familiar shackles of compulsion settle into it's form anew. A guttural howl of fury rips free from it's throat as it struggles against that binding compulsion- but between both the beckoning and the challenge, it can't help but find itself turning towards the source. Seething with rage, the beast strides out of the ruined camp, it's bleak shape slipping into the darkness of the woods to a symphony of creaking wood and crackling ice.
Satoshi hates herself for using the lyre to summon Kasyr in the first place, as such, she has no intention to abuse the binding further than to get him in front of her. It is why, when he appears through the trees, that the magus' playing stops and Requiem is stowed in her coat once more so that she can stand to face him. Small and solitary a figure, Satoshi is unwavering as she gazes at the monstrous form. Last time, she'd greeted him with fangs and claws, rage and bloodlust, and in turn only encouraged him further through their bounds. This time, however, there is no trace of anger in the magus, no shadows or glimpses of that earlier fury. She's determined, lucid, and above all else, affectionate as she extends her right hand in his direction, dangerously close to those jaws. "Kasyr. On y va?"
Kasyr something bristles through that beasts form, a ripple of muscle made all the more disturbing by the darkness which pools about its form. And yet, whether it be due to recognition, the empathic bond Magus and Kensai share or something far less easily descibed, it hesitates- peering at the Magus in a wholly indecipherable manner. Ever so slightly the abberations head tilts to one side, its gaze narrowing as though it seems to recognize the magus- and it really does, to a point. It recognizes it as the the one that shackled it earlier, as the one that issued forth that challenge. But beyond everything, it recognized it as the creature that it had clashed with once already, that vulpine beast which had wounded it. Everything beyond that pales, discarded as irrelevant even as the Caliginous Cats' body grows taut- and it's body heaves forward, jaws parted so that they might come crashing closed about the vixens form.
Satoshi doesn't flinch or evade. In all truth, she expected such a reaction, and in response only shifts herself enough to offer Kasyr's jaws her shoulder rather than her head. There's a reason she chose to extend her right--and secondary--hand. It's the one forged from ice, as is made clear when fangs produce a high clicking sound upon clamping over Satoshi's shoulder. Alongside not only offering her lesser arm for biting, this leaves Satoshi with her left hand free, to now be lifted toward Kasyr. Palm presses to the scale and fur of the beast's cheek, the magus' flesh cold and the wedding band all the colder as she offers a light stroke. "Remember how I used to fear death, until I met you? And how I said I'd rather die than live without you?" Despite the corners of her mouth pinched against the pressure of his fangs buried in her shoulder, Satoshi's expression doesn't change, nor does the empathic aura she's emanating. Where he seethes rage, she offers comfort, jealousy meets reassurance, and loathing will find loyalty waiting. Either suicidal urge, daring, or impossibly huge confidence, something compels Satoshi to lean her head forward then to press her forehead to that murderous maw. "That's when I put this ring on, and so did you. We promised not to leave each other behind, so don't you dare leave me now, you bastard." She'll blame it on snowflakes in her hair melting from proximity to the beast's huge form, but at least a pair of droplets trace along the magus' cheek. She can't quite help thinking Hildegarde would kill her, if the knight saw the reckless methods Satoshi is using.
Satoshi is totes casual as can be, considering a giant, murderous monster is chewing on her.
The jaws of the beast flex at the Magus' touch, coaxing it's teeth into scraping against and further into the ice of her arm, even as the primal aspects of its' mind grapple and recoil at the emotion and ideas vested within her words. With a jerked motion, it wrenches it's head to one side, as though it were disagreeing or attempting to ward off a thought- the motion repeated thrice more before it releases it's jaws, fully intent on sending Satoshi hurtling back. All about its form, that eerie blackness which clings to it begins to roil and churn- like a sea of darkness which was rapidly becoming overtaken by a storm. More disturbing yet is the manner in which its' scales begin to slither and slide across its' form, pooling together about its' forepaws. And yet it doesn't advance, merely staring at the magus warily, a threatening growl hanging low in its' throat.
Satoshi finds herself standing one moment and on the ground the next, agony stitching through where ice meets body on her shoulder. Being yanked from side to side has caused the frozen joint to separate, and it's a small fortune that Satoshi cannot feel pain in the arm itself. But even as Kasyr growls, the magus is climbing back to her feet, sparing only a moment to grimly force the dislocated ice back into place. As if he hadn't just bitten and thrown her, Satoshi advances once more. She's taken a page from the books of Hildegarde and Emielle, not offering resistance or force in the face of Kasyr's snarls, instead carrying a blanket of love and reassurance. A smothering blanket, perhaps, but sometimes you have to smother a fire lest you burn down your home. Armed as such, Satoshi approaches, footsteps slow but steady. "You can maul me, throw me, kill me, if you must, Kasyr, but I'm never letting you go," Satoshi explains, voice carrying clear as a bell despite being no more than a whisper. Again the kit extends her hand toward the beast, eyes blinking against sudden misting. Instinct is screaming at her to either flee or fight, and yet here Satoshi stands, appealing to the nature she knows is buried somewhere within the caliginous monster. She won't believe he's gone, not so long as that bound of rings links their souls. "You promised you'd always come back to me. You came back last time, didn't you? And I told you there's nothing in all the realms that is strong enough to stop you, or change us. So c'mon then, come back home, because I'm not going back without you."
Though the creatures features are all but rigid with the signs of feral outrage, vestiges of other emotions flicker within it's being, phantoms made briefly visible by the pairs bond. Beneath oceans of rage, and miasmic wells of hatred and envy, clear flickers of recognition and confusion exist. And yet, they are brief lived- quelled not only by the revenants unhallowed state, but by darker influences which lurk within his form. These malign presences are foul, sickly things; reminiscent of the Kensai that they rest within, and yet also foreign in a particular and disconcerting manner. Whatever the truth of the matter is, it hardly matters; the beast emitting another growl of protest, before moving to slam one of it's forelimbs forward- fully intent on pinning the magus to the ground should she continue to persist in her advance.
Satoshi stubbornly continues to offer neither resistance nor fight, which only leads to her being neatly caught beneath that oversized paw when Kasyr lunges. Although the eidolon's flesh and bones have, for the majority, been replaced by a more durable blend of snow and ice replicas since her rebirth, that does not mean she is immune to the pain. Nor are her 'bones' unbreakable. By sheer pressure of Kasyr's weight alone, Satoshi is inflicted with internal damage, and it takes every ounce of the magus' endurance to not voice the agony of fractured ribs grinding together, or a collarbone splintering, or left wrist snapping. Instead of crying out, Satoshi clenches her fangs and glowers up at the monster that had been her husband. "Go on then," she challenges, voice surprisingly dignified and defiant considering her position, "finish the job, if that's what you want so bad! Frostmaw stands, and the only other thing that mattered, you've taken. So go ahead!" As Satoshi speaks, the temperatures plunge at an alarming rate until the air itself bites simply to be in its presence, worsened by ice-laden winds and a jagged crystallizing of the snow the darkling beast stands up, needling his paws. Despite her efforts to not combat Kasyr, the lands themselves see fit to do otherwise, acting out in defense of the eidolon without her instruction. As she'd told Svilfon once before, Frostmaw shows its fangs when she bleeds.
That creatures whole body seems to tremor, not from the icy chill which laces its flesh with frost- but rather from the internal turmoil which echoes within its aberrant form, struggling against the blood lust which oozes nigh palpably from the Black Behemoth. For all the odium which courses through the creature, it cannot quite exert any further downward pressure upon the Eidolon, even as it remains so poised to crush her. That violence which it has haphazardly doled upon its surroundings failing to find a release now. There's a darker fury in its features now, one that twists in visage into yet a more monstrous caricature, which brings an odd sibilant echo to every one of the beasts breaths. It's scaled paws flex, even as they refuse to push down further against her.
Satoshi's eyes widen in surprise, those hissing breaths more unnerving than the entirety of the beast pinning her into the snow. "Gospel...?" A spark of hopelessness darkens the kit's features then, for she possesses no means to combat the murderous sentience of that sword. Not even her own kindred weapon can hold its own against Gospel. It's this thought Satoshi dwells on that ignites an idea in her head, fueled by the realization that, despite Gospel's sibilant presence, Kasyr hasn't struck yet. Ignoring the pain of moving her broken wrist, Satoshi wriggles her left arm free, only to lift it and place her hand on the revenant's forearm. When she speaks, it's with a voice that's an unusual blend both pleading and firm, "You're still in there. I know you are. And that means Empera is too." Claws flex to sink into the revenant's flesh, as painless as thin needles, and yet pain is not the goal: Satoshi wants only to make contact with Kasyr's blood, so that she can begin feeding threads of her magic into him in the form of Azure Flames. She means to provide him a cold and determined fuel, to bolster him and repel Gospel with the raw purity of Ice. It may be heavily taxing on Satoshi, mind, body, and soul, but she doesn't hesitate to lend her husband any aid she can muster. "You and me, Kasyr, with Empera. We can take that old serpent. Don'tcha think~?" From somewhere beneath the revenant's paw and Satoshi comes a faint ringing hum, and the flicker touch of another sentience awakening in answer to the conflict.
That vile Obsidian beast rages at the infectious touch of ice, and the thin fractures of azure energy which begin to ripple through its' scales. Murderous intent emanates from that damnable creature, as it forsakes the effort of pushing it's entire paw down upon her, in favor of deliberately driving forward one of it's claws- intent on running her through with that blasphemous blade. And yet, for all its' venomous hate, and those other darkling essences which further fuel it- it cannot stop that familiar surge of electrical energy which runs through it form, the sanctified sentience of Empera which runs opposite of it and is now awake... nor the focused ire of the Kensai which it moves to aid. All at once, that familiar scent of ozone and burnt flesh begins to filter through the air, heralding both a rather unforunate combination of sizzling and popping noises, and something else, like the rustle of scale against scale.
Satoshi may have a monstrous claw buried in her gut, but that doesn't seem to stop her from smirking up at Kasyr with fangs bared, mocking. "That's all you've got, Gospel? Tsk. I've had worse from sparring with Kasyr." Or at least similar. And every time it hurt like hell, leaving her in rough shape for a time afterwards. But that matters little to the magus currently, as she's obstinate in feeding her magic into Kasyr despite what Gospel throws at her. As Satoshi's Flames continue to wind their way into the revenant's form, the humming from beneath his paw intensifies, accompanied now by a burning white light that seeps through the snows. Since being brutally awakened months ago, Ko'tar has stubbornly lain dormant in its sheathe, refusing to answer Satoshi's call, and yet it chooses to act now. Not so much for Satoshi, but for her actions: for what would the Blade of Charity be, if it ignored a soul giving its everything to save another? As such, the katana has lifted its voice to join the endeavour, its pure light threatening to scorch a hole clean through the revenant's unholy paw if he remains as he is for much longer. At first, Satoshi mistakens the scent of burning flesh as Ko'tar's doing, and it's only once the familiar ozone reaches her does realization dawn. Claws sink deeper into the revenant then as the magus vainly attempts to pull herself up towards him. "Kasyr! Don't you dare! Burn that bastard off you, but don't you DARE take yourself with it!" Panicked, Satoshi's will strives to redirect her magic, to halt the free flow and instead construct a barrier around the revenant's core--in a fashion similar to how the Shesryn dragons had guarded the Figments' essences while rebuilding their exteriors into suitable 'employees'. Satoshi'll be damned if she lets Kasyr sacrifice himself again.
Kasyr s' 'core' is technically difficult to locate, since it's as diffused throughout the body as much as Gospel is- the distinction between where one ends and the other begins hazy at best, and further complicated by the fact that his physical form seems to solely consist of that beast at the moment. Still, that process of sifting through the revenants darkness is not one Satoshi has to deal with alone, as she has both Ko'tar & Empera's help...and another essence that is distinctly reminiscent of the Lyre she holds so close to herself. A task which will likely become a bit easier as the claw piercing her begins to disintegrate, talon and scales beginning to flake away in a stream of ashes and spark. A process that is mirroring itself all along the creatures forepaws.
If there is one thing, and one thing only, she's learned from Kasyr, it's improvising. Which is precisely what she's doing. There are no rulebooks or spells that could tell her how to handle this situation, there are no reference guides or fireside tales, there is only instinct, guesswork, and a fair bit of blind praying. Satoshi wants only to banish this monstrous form Gospel has forced Kasyr into, to regain her husband and his proper body, rather than let him burn himself away. Ko'tar and the Azure Flames answer to Satoshi's whims as best they're able, the innate purity of their forms serving as a scalding venom to Gospel even as they attempt to avoid scorching the revenant at the same time, coupled with Empera's holy influences. Satoshi's seen enough times what that lightning-infused knack of Kasyr's does to his body, ionizing chunks of himself, and left to mend afterwards. "...Oh," Satoshi blurts, sitting up abruptly--and promptly swaying from the wash of pain movement induces. But she can't focus on that, not now, not when she's been struck by an idea. It's a gamble, a wildcard, a shot in the Underdark with a blindfold on, no doubt about it... but when -doesn't- that describe Kasyr or her actions? Unfortunately, to do it, Satoshi has to disengage her claws from the revenant, and hope what magic she's fed into him is enough, as the last of it is needed for the spell flitting about in her head. A simple enough trick, albeit the distance, that requires only a rapidly trilled melody to invoke. Nothing seems to happen at first, the surrounding area quiet until the nearby trees shudder and ripple, as if a large form is moving through them, taking the same path Kasyr had. In truth, it is following the revenant's trail precisely, already naturally drawn to him and only coaxed into swifter action now by Satoshi's arcane manipulations: blood, a veritable tidal wave, pulled from the mauled and half-eaten remains of the camp Kasyr had massacred. After all, Kasyr needs a body, and he regenerates through absorbing blood, so maybe, just maybe, dropping a Frost Giant camp's worth of it on him might be enough to create a form amid Gospel's dissolving?
Kasyr is slowly beginning to assert himself, aided onwards by the various energies working within him and Empera's steadying 'presence'. With every passing moment, the Kensai manages to sear away more and more of Gospel, and himself- a haze of energy and ash that spirals off until it's indecipherable from the snow above. And yet, for every part of himself that he reduces to naught, the awareness remains that he cannot be wholly rid of it- nor does he comprehend -how- to alter his state. There's even a brief moment when he considers escape, to retreat to the 'safety' of Vailkrin, before the overwhelming scent of blood washes over him- moments before the sanguine tide Satoshi has conjured up literally does. For one last moment, that impulse of flight flickers through the revenants mind- a thought which just as promptly begins to cue the stirring of flesh around that black beasts shoulders. It's then that comprehension dawns upon the transformed revenant, further spurred on by the hopeful, desperate intentions that his wife gives off in waves. Without further hesitation, the Kensai invokes that primal electrical energy within himself- before he turns it inward, his form rapidly fading away beneath that bloody tide, even as he does his utmost to stubbornly retain his cognisance.
Satoshi has nothing left to give. She's surrendered every sliver of magic she possesses, every ounce of her physical strength and endurance, and every drop of wishful thinking, hoping, and praying that's possible to muster. Thus it's with a half-voiced whimper that the magus collapses, all traces of the Azure Flames snuffed out with the severing of her concentration, and Ko'tar only manage a few more strangled notes of protection before it too falls silent. Dancing on the edges of consciousness, Satoshi can do no more than watch, eyes half closed, and mind struggling to stay present to witness the bath of blood, ash, lightning, and scale.
Kasyr s' formation is brief and violent, a shape carving itself into existance out of blood and lightning, if only to sink down to the ground without further fanfare. It's there that the revenant lies, his crumpled form lying within the ruins of his bestial form. And yet, he's 'whole' once more- for beneath the ichor stains and ashes lies the familiar form of the vampire, only partially covered by the disheveled remains of his clothes. Intact, and yet wholly drained, the only indication of movement coming from his body being the disconcerting manner in which the scaly 'tattoo's upon his forearms writhe and dance.
Satoshi could be made entirely of relief, with how much of the emotion is spilling off the magus once the revenant reappears. It's enough that finds, somehow, enough residual strength to drag herself over to Kasyr. But aside from being close enough that she half-flops on top of him, Satoshi can do no more, and has to be content with what is. "Knew you'd come back." It could be an affection nuzzle from her cheek, or Satoshi simply sinking further against the revenan't side as consciousness escapes her, although it likely matters little presently. Between the naturally protective lands of Frostmaw, its perpetual snowfall, and Satoshi's ever-present cloak of mist, the pair should be concealed enough to not draw immediate attention to themselves while they recover.
The war is won, Kasyr is home. Satoshi can rest.