RP:The Chains of Your Making

This is a Mage's Guild RP.

Part of the Lies Within Us Arc

Summary: Everything comes to an end eventually.

The Mages Guild Observatory, Xalious

The stage is set. The morning sun begins to rise over the mountain's toothy crown and it is met with carnage. Fire and smoke leaks from every window of the Mages Tower. In places, whole chunks of ensorcelled brick have been torn loose as the battle within erupted out into the open air. High above it all, removed from this base squabbling, the Mages Observatory perches like a crystal ball, glinting with polished glass and twisting brass machinery, there is little of the old telescope that remains visible beneath the layers of arcane paraphernalia. As the first rays of sunlight lance through the clouds, The Godmaker begins to sing in response, twisting its brassy muzzle towards Arh'nuk, scorched and scarred with the runes of Haladavar's apotheosis. The shriek of metal tolls the final hour. Our adventure soon reaches its close.

Odhranos curses and in a fit of anger obliterates the iron hatch at the end of the staircase. A wheeling clang echoes down the stairwell, followed by a biting cold wind as the Mages finally reach the top of the tower. Odhranos hauls himself up the last few steps and clears the way for the rest to follow. Two moments later and the final pair of doors hover before his vision, wrapped in steel, at the base of the huge iron birdcage that enclosed the observatory. Odhranos reaches out to take the handle, but pauses. "This is it…" he whispers under his breath. Gritting his teeth, he turns and faces the assembled party of mages behind him. Even without seeing them, he can hear their fatigue in their breaths and footsteps; nothing of this siege has been easy. But to falter now would be to fall with the end just in sight. "I know how tired you are…” Odhranos begins, his voice surprisingly calm under the circumstances as he turns to face his colleagues. “- so I will only ask one more thing of you.” Odhranos lifts his gloved hand to his mouth and pulls it off with his teeth. On the back of his hand, a pale rune glows with dull light that begins growing stronger as it meets the burgeoning daylight. “Grant me thirty seconds of sanctuary once we kick these doors down. I ask nothing more.” Odh’s expression is sombre even as he dredges up a smile. “We can save the rousing speeches for afterwards. Just know that I couldn’t ask for a better group of people to have with me right now.” With a parting nod, Odhranos turns back to face the observatory and steadies his breathing. “Ready!” He shouts, lowering his stance as he confronts the door. “BREACH!” With a horrifying shriek of tormented metal, the doorframe of the observatory explodes outward, cracking the iron cage open like an egg, allowing the wind and Mages to howl into Haladavar’s final sanctuary.

Khitti || Once they reach the doors, the adrenaline that had been coursing through Khitti’s body started to wear off and exhaustion began to set in (getting old sucks, yo). She frowned at it in annoyance and dug through her satchel for one of the few vials of stamina and magic restoratives that remained after everything that had happened on the way up to where the final battle was to take place. Khitti uncorked and chugged both at once like some college girl at a party wanting to get white girl wasted. The vials were shoved hastily back into her bag, her attention settling on Odhranos as he spoke. Butterflies angry enough to rival the likes of Amarrah Facilier fluttered about in Khitti’s stomach, a wave of anxiety crashing over her as she remembered the night Odhranos met Khitt. The terramancer had insinuated that the end of this war would likely be his own end as well, and the thought of it only worsened the frown that had been planted on her face. Up until now, she’d been leaning heavily on her use of shadow magic, but with the ever-growing possibility of defeat looming overhead, it was time to dig into the light magic as well, even at the risk of harming several people in their group with it. With a whisper and a tap of a glowing, holy-enveloped finger within her bag, a strange-looking metal contraption floated out from within. The wootz steel planisphere’s rings, one inside the other, spun differently from one another as small stars of holy light flickered into being around the outside of it. Still unsure of its entire purpose, Khitti eyed the magical implement warily, but ultimately shook her head at it and readied herself, with a ball of shadow in one hand and one of light in the other, for the oncoming storm of battle as the doors were forced open.

Kasyr is admittedly a bit antsy. After all, there was already too many realm-threatening entities cavorting about the countryside- and the possibility that their brief pause might provide their quarry the opportunity to escape is. ...Well, realistically unlikely- but the thought -is- there. Villainous escapes from an evil lair were a trope for a reason. Still, Odhranos' speech is short and sweet- and the request he makes is reasonable enough at it's core. Buy him a window of opportunity, and keep him alive. "Daedria, give us strength." As prayers go, it's succint, and yet- there's a sincerity to be found there. One that makes the process of drawing on the ascendis strength feel natural. Kasyr's intent in this moment is simple enough, to invoke what bits of divine protection he can about himself, so that he can turn himself into a living bulwark for the terramancer- his footsteps carrying him proximal to the archmage so that he's able to intercept at least some of what may wind up being leveled at the man as the Observatory doors come down. "Try not to die, s'il te plait."

Quintessa pulls herself after her companions, her body aching from the trials the lower rooms had brought to them, prepared especially for them by the Ossian Order. Ignoring the twisting pain that began to build as her adrenaline subsided, the changeling reaches on her belt for a healing potion, the last one she had in her possession, and inbibes it quickly to wash away some of the pain that burned like a fire in every inch of her being. Her battle was not over yet, however; they still had the climax to withstand. Giving a solid nod to her new Archmage, Quintessa drops her now empty vial to the floor with a quiet smash and moves both hands to the grip of her katana, her stance indicating she was readying a charge. In the moment of pause before the breach, the hexblade looks around at the others gathered here, at the people who had grown close to her and the people she had considered family. The Mage’s Guild had shaped her life like none other had and now every experience she had with them had led up to this moment. As the crimson light of Arh’nuk spills over the changeling girl, it revitalizes the pool of mana she had expended below, a final gift to the chosen before the final fight started. When the cage cracks open and the sanctum yields to them, Quintessa is there in the front, her shadowy aura spinning like a maelstrom as she joins the vanguard for their final charge.

Lanlan was blinded in a laser lightshow performance, and so travels trepidatiously among a college of vaguely familiar gray blobs, up an invisible staircase. With some effort, he tries to recall Gevie’s teachings that would let him see the aura of magical beings through the opening of his third eye. Prodigious, he was not, and he sees as if through a keyhole. Luckily Odhranos speaks, and Lanlan recognizes his voice. “I could be more ready,” Lanlan whispers to a friendly gray blob. But there’s the breach, and the door is done to pieces as Lanlan jumps in surprise and snaps flat to a wall for stability. Kasyr’s hushed prayer is almost seen as well as it is heard, and he’s tempted to monitor the space for a sign of reply. With the doors now open, his formless allies begin to show themselves with their magic, one wielding two lamps of diametrically opposed forms of magic, beacons in a grayscale. Another enshrouded in a dark twister. Then he should join them. With no time to waste, Lanlan conjures from memory, duplicates of his allies to follow him through the door, with not just a vision of their physical appearance, but even with a copy of what he sees of their aura.

Karasu winces slightly at the first rays of light peering in through the glistening windows of the observatory. The ascent to this point had still been in the dark of night; how long had they been fighting? After this endless nightmare, could this really be the end? The spellblade's body is littered with blossomed bruises from her and Valrae's first fight with the cryomancer. Hopefully the Iintahquohae and the Red Witch not too overwhelmed with those too injured to continue. Like the Catalan, Karasu takes out her own potion and knocks it back as if it were some kind of delicious catnip treat. Magik leans down to Karasu's height as the doors are torn open and warns, "Don't rely on your new powers yet, they're taking too much out of you." The spellblade nods in affirmation. As soon as the acknowledgement is given, the pyromancer is gone in a blast of smoke to move ahead of the group. Heeding Odhranos' request for protection, once the other fighters have entered the observatory, save Kasyr, Karasu presses two fingers to her temple, then draws a line in the air. A thin veneer of pink magic encapsulates the pair, acting as a shield from any magical attacks Haladavar throws their way. Xalious above knew that they would need all the protection they could get. Moving quickly, the spellblade draws her sword and side-steps around the perimiter of the battlefield she once called home. Her steps are light, her eyes occassionally flickering down to be sure not to disturb the arcane hoard that litters the observatory. The moment there was an opening, she would be sure to take it... It was the least she could do for the mages that could never come home.

Ernest didn't have much magic left in him at the moment, but he did still have a few pyrotechnics and more than a few cursed crossbow bolts left. The mummy wasn't able to help with the actual breaching in his current state, but he was definitely prepped to go as the group surged through the doors: one crossbow, readied with both hands and a full magazine, prepared to rapid-fire into whatever threat happened to be ahead of them. It wasn't until they were through the gates and charging into battle that Ernest suddenly felt a twinge of doubt--Haladavar had been described as less than corporeal, and the curses he could cast required physical interaction. This... might actually be trickier than he'd anticipated. Then again, he'd have to become corporeal to hurt them, right? Which would give him an opening, right? ...Right? Maybe this would be a better time to wait and watch for a bit. There were enough mages here that Odh shouldn't be wanting for sanctuary for those thirty seconds he needed.

Haladavar:: As the door was breached, rock and debris exploded and careened toward Haladavar’s rune-scarred back, his attention dedicated to continuing the supervision of his task. Without a motion or apparent effort, the rocks disintegrate, inches from collision. Through the cloud of dust, several of the symbols that tell his story are alight with power, and one by one they dim. Even after this attack, he attempts to maintain his focus on what’s important, a space boulder thousands of miles away. But then, he sighs in resignation. A purely symbolic gesture, his body having evolved beyond the need for breath. “I can see...most of you are here,” he says without looking, “so I’ll ask: What’s a father to do?” And he turns, his mostly placid features, glowing in a magical amber hue, show only the barest hint of sadness, or a mockery of it. “When some of his children are bad and they hurt the ones who are good? I would’ve preferred for you all to witness my vision become reality. Now I know. Not everyone deserves what I have in mind.” As he speaks, his skin again becomes aglow, forming a spell of protection. Not for himself, but for his construction. Magic tessellates almost invisibly around his technology, forming a tight and powerful reflective forcefield, ensuring his process can continue while he erases the mages he supplanted. “This was never personal, but for the crimes you’ve committed here, you must be disciplined.” Behind him, threads of magic rapidly spiral and hum into golden spires of energy. The magic missiles propagate rapidly into the dozens, and then all at once whistle through the air, taking winding and seemingly random trajectories that demonstrate amazing and minute control. Each squadron of projectiles, if allowed to chart its course, will imminently perforate an organ critical to the continued living of every banished mage here.

As the storm of battle rages around him, Odhranos strides slowly into the observatory. With Kasyr at his side and the protective penumbra of magic Karasu has cast over him, all there is for him to do is focus on his task. His ungloved hand is outstretched, fingers splayed as they brush through the air. The rune inlaid on his hand thrums as it brushes through the tangled threads of Robelous magic, seeking the spider's web that shrouds Haladavar’s very being. Odhranos grits his teeth as he searches, straining his mind as chaos unfolds around him. The threads of magic dance and slip between his fingers, denying his touch, skittering away from his control as if aware of his presence. Time is slipping away too fast, so Odhranos changes tack, channelling his inner Lanlan. “Oi Hal! Has anyone ever told you that you sound like a man who hides behind his words!? All this “glorious purpose” and “wondrous vision” talk you fill the air with, makes me wonder what you’re trying to hide with all that prattling?” The web seems to shudder in response, and Odhranos thrills with victory, raising his voice and roaring at the amber spectre with venom. “You spout the words of a visionary, Haladavar, but all I hear is the fearful echo of a man who shakes in the face of his own mortality! A coward so great he would burn the world, rather than let his own light go out!” Even as he cackles in Haladavar’s face, Odhranos’ fingers reach for the furiously trembling threads. “Burn, Haladavar, burn bright and burn fast! The Long Night is patient, but you're burning down what wick you have left, soon there will be nothing left of you. Show me that fire that drove back the primal dark! Show me the rage that would challenge dragons! Rage, Hal! Rage against the dying of the light! Rage and burn and burn and rage with everything that you ever were! I accept your fire and offer you my own!” Odhranos feels the brush of magic on his fingertips and with a savage smile, he clenches his fist around it. He turns his face upwards and grins at Hal with vicious victory. “Burn with me, you son of a b****”

Khitti sneered at Haladavar, both orbs of magic flaring slightly as her anger was sparked. “You made it personal when you took our friend, you bastard,” she said, when Odhranos was finished. Both shadow and light were shoved together now to form one large orb. Shadowfire and shadow-ice glimmered amongst the shadows, while the light shone with the rainbowy radiance of a prism. Neither magic touched the other, the two forever swirling around the other like fighters circling each other before the first attack. Energy crackled here and there where the magics came close to each other, only worsening as Khitti poured a bit more magic into it, both the planisphere and her sword Embershard glowing with their respective magicks. “Now die!” She lobbed the orb at Hal, then set her attention to trying to dodge the magic missiles and summon up temporary shields of shadow-ice in places where needed, in an attempt to keep the other mages as safe as possible. Her hands moved about, first pointed at one mage, then another, and another still as the small blocks of ice were created here and there.

Kasyr purses his lips at the exchange going on between Hal and Odhranos, no doubt due to the combination of the Terramancers provocation, and the growing swarm of arcane death that burgeons into existence. "Keep me alive, he says." The Kensai grumbles, before he extends one hand in front of himself- a surge of electrical energy building up within the limb. That said, it's only when Haladvar unleashes his barrage of magic missiles that the Kensai finalizes his preperations- discharging the accumulated lightning into one of the crumpled remnants of the door. "30 Seconds, he says." Caught within a static web, the slab of metal finds itself inexonerably drawn back towards the Kensai, to essentially be used as an oversized shield against the incoming arcane barrage. And to that end, it serves admirably well- the metal distorting beneath the impacts, and yet failing to rupture entirely. That said, It's not a flawless maneuver- as the erratic flight paths of Hal's missiles allow a few to slip past, leaving the Kensai little recourse but to step into their path- entrusting Daedria's protection to guard his vitals. This is more of a mixed success- as though it fails to pierce through the swordsman, there's the distinct sound of bones fracturing with each meaty impact that ensues. "Et then he decides to run his mouth. Merci."

Quintessa bares her teeth at Haladavar when he asks the simple question ‘what is a father to you?’ memories of what that word always meant for her causing a spike of aggression to surge through her, reigniting the just how personal the slights of the Ossian Order against her really were to her. Quintessa’s father was a disappointment, a constant source of pain and misery, and much like her blood father the promises of Father Haladavor were as empty and hopeless as anything Quintessa hoped to get out of her real father when she was a child. The changeling clenches her fists tightly around her weapon, fighting back tears as her painful emotions shifted effortlessly into a thick, ebon mana that coated her blade like a potent venom. “You’ve got it backwards, I’m afraid. In the name of Arh’nuk- I will punish you!” With a flick of her wrists she wields her sword like a wand, controlling the dark aura swirling around her like a powerful current. “Tarian nos!” With a swing of her blade Quintessa manifests a heavy curtain of the night itself, a blanket of darkness that attempts to choke out the amber glow of Haladavar’s radiance. This wave of darkness however is pierced to pieces by the storm of magic missiles, which in turn fade away to nothing as the icor cloud absorbs the damage that was intended for the Quintessa and the mages that stood around her. Now was Quintessa’s time for a counter-attack. With the maelstrom of shadow that once followed her expended, she moves forward, closing in part the distance between herself and Haladavar as she sweeps her katana low to build momentum. “Toriad…” A pulse of mana flows from her fingertips into the hilt of her weapon, interacting with the magic that already coated it. “Melltigedig!” Quintessa halts and swings her sword like a heavy club in the air, the momentum of her charge transferred into the trajectory of her eldritch blast and an arc of crackling energy streaks toward her target, Haladavar. As quick as the wind and as sharp as a scythe, the maleficent attack ripples towards the amber man’s neck like a deadly guillotine.

Lanlan even with his limited perception, can see the luminous aura of Haladavar like a beacon, shining like a lighthouse casting its oppressive light in every direction. Lanlan wants to barf at how he flaunts himself, “It’s tacky bordering on gauche.” But Lanlan’s dire concern is toward the swarm of missiles now weaving toward he and his allies. Which are going for him? It’s nearly impossible to tell, and they’re nearly impossible to target, because of the way they move. But so was he. To anyone perceiving him he would gradually become less...defined. The gray of his skin blending into the white of his tunic, and into the purple of his cloak, and into the gray of the cobbled stone behind him. Within this blur he was graceful, nearly pirouetting out of the trajectory of one missile, before bending over backwards and crab-walking under another. He rolls to his feet confidently, facing Haladavar with a smirk. Just then he is impaled through the gut by a golden spike. Shock and pain flash across his face, before Lanlan comes up from behind himself and pushes himself to the ground, where he shatters like glass and explodes. Lanlan joins in on the heckling. “Magic missiles? All this power and you use it to make a lot of magic missiles. Haha, you’re not just weak,” says Lanlan laughing. “you’re obsolete!” Every one of Lanlan’s duplicates begins to laugh and mock Haladavar, murmuring insidiously how pathetic he is to make magic missiles. “Spell for babies, wow. What, the second spell ever made, after firebolt?” And yet each insult is actually a curse, designed to attack the psyche, and wear on an enemy’s focus. “And put some clothes on, your wife told me how you embellish yourself, how pathetic. How embarrassing!”

Karasu sneers at Haladavar as he speaks so self-righteously. Odhranos' beratement of him reflects what she wants to say, what everyone here likely wanted to say. She forfeits any chance at stealth in lieu of avoiding the erratic missles. Chalices, spyglasses, runes, scrolls, all are trampled as Karasu rushes into the mess of items, using her balance to hop backwards and fowards. Being a demifeline makes her fast, but not quite fast to be perfectly unscathed; thin red lines appear on her legs and arms as the attacks just barely miss. Seeming to get a glimpse of a breather while perched on the brass frames of the windows, Karasu takes a quick glance around the room. Her shield spell used enough little magic that she could protect one more. Black fire-tipped arrows soar towards Haladavar as Magik appears from the shadows to take as many shots as possible at once, then disappears into smoke before the missles can land, then moves to another area to repeat the process. He would be fine. A quick glance at Lanlan as the drow sticks to the wall. Something has been wrong with him since their arrival, though she has not been able to speak to him to find out what. Quintessa was reckless, but surprisingly durable. So far, it seemed everyone was fine; the time to give someone else protection would come sooner or later. Karasu looks up in time to parry a golden missle with her sword, the concentrated magic angling upwards to graze her forehead. A mountain seagull resting on top of the observatory gives a well-timed screech as the spellblade exclaims in pain. Launching from the windowframe, she aims for Haldavar, her whip sword extending outwards. Blood flows from the gash on her head, dripping onto the various items scattered across the room. The magical chains stretch outwards with trails of magic between the fragmented blades. "Adolbetique!" She shouts, her sword immediately bursting into red-violet flames. Her wrist snaps downwards, and the blades follow, seeking to encircle the ancient elf's neck and head for a proper decapitation.

Ernest cussed loudly when he saw the magical bolts start to fly around the room, because he knew he had only one defense against them at this point. Letting out a dramatic sigh, he flipped open the magazine, dumped one of his crossbow bolts into his hand, and shouted, "One of y'all better be good at breakin' curses 'cause I'm gonna need this one offa me before we're done here." With that, he jammed the thing into his own neck and felt the bubble of antimagic roll over his body--just in time for the magic missiles aimed at him to careen towards him--and promptly fizzle out of existence. Silently, as the curse prevented him from speaking, he grinned brightly--then started diving into the way of missiles aimed at others. Might as well score some brownie points, right? And if you have a bubble of "Nope" surrounding you, a good way of doing that exact thing is to act as a shield for others. As he did so, he made sure to work his way towards Hal's shield. Time to see if it was made of something stronger than these missiles.

Haladavar :: The golden man winced at Odhranos’s words, and exhaled pointlessly through his nostrils. “Your words are born of ignorance, and blindness,” he says, matter-of-factly, consoling himself. “I have no fear, for I have transcended mortality.” Khitti’s crackling spinning orb of unstable magics seems to have caught him by surprise, and lands a direct hit into him, their parts mixing catastrophically and exploding as they come into contact with him. Parts of him are blown off, the force of the explosion causing him to stagger and stumble away from it. Yet he stands on his feet, even with a jagged chunk burned off his face, and an arm that’s been utterly disappeared. And then Quintessa and Karasu step to him, and weakly, he braces his face against one of their swords with his one shiny hand, and he raises a stump against another. Neither his neck, nor his face hold up to the spellblades’ fury, and he’s further dismembered. His head cut into thirds as they cross-cut. You fools, how dare you TOUCH me,” comes his disembodied voice. It’s distorted, uneven, shuddering with rage. “This body was for YOUR benefit. I told you I am beyond mortality. Beyond blood, beyond bones, beyond breath. Beyond...you!” But still, raggedy breath fills the room, as if he was everywhere. “I was going to remove you in the most painless of ways, but you...you are all beneath my mercy.” Suddenly the tower begins to pull apart, the very stones that make the walls and the floor begin to fall away beneath them. “Do you see!? This is nothing to me!” Ethereal blades of pure energy spin beneath where the floor used to be, and beneath that, a spiraling void. A singularity, beckoning death to everyone in the tower, while the ceiling and the observatory magically remain suspended in place. The stones that once comprised the floor are pulled into the swordnado, sliced into bits as they touch the ethereal blender, and spiral into the deep black nothingness.

Odhranos can suddenly see. From the threads of magic clenched in his fist, the observatory explodes into light. Amber apparitions careen around him, Kasyr dives in front of him to intercept the magic missiles that would have speared the terramancer through and Odhranos very nearly breaks his hold to jump forward and grab him. For Sven's sake, he's only been alive less than a day, Daedria would likely not take kindly to his hasty return. However, the Kensai weathers the blow, while the twin spellblade prodigies charge at Haladavar! Quintessa, a reaper from the ground and Karasu, an avenger from the sky. Ernest vanishes entirely, but his silhouette of void seems to vibrate with maniacal glee as he swallows magic whole. Khitti wields light and dark, tearing reason and reality asunder as she casts while Lanlan scoffs at reason entirely and manifests a one man army to cackle at the amber would-be god. Odhranos' heart swells with pride for what this Guild has become and that pride strengthens him as he tightens his grip on the strings of the runic web. Haladavar's corporeal body is torn and shredded but his presence remains, festooned within the magic that weaves and threads through the very air. As the tower falls away from beneath them and oblivion beckons, Odhranos raises his fist into the air, where the Robelous rune glows like an azure star in the darkness. "Oh, but there is something to you, Hal. Something you took great lengths to protect." The rune flashes and Odhranos' sleeve burns, as reciprocal markings spark into light, searing themselves into his skin as his wrist, arm, shoulder all burst into arcane flame. Raw magic swirls around Odhranos' fist before solidifying into a luminous shackle of light, from which chains burst forth, racing out to every corner of the room, where they find runes, hidden and tucked away, the lattice of Hal's soulcage, now being laid bare. "It's only appropriate, the chains you bound me in, now bind -you- to -ME-."

Khitti ’s attention was drawn away from trying to protect everyone from the missiles with her shadow-ice by the light that burned from Odhranos’ hand. As the floor fell away, she shadowstepped closer to the archmage, beams of shadow and light soon poured from her fingertips, twisting and swirling as they made their way to Odhranos and, ultimately, around the chains he used to bind Haladavar, crossing the streams like they were bustin’ ghosts. She wasn’t even sure if this would help Odhranos. She wasn’t sure if this would even harm Hal. But, nevertheless, she channeled her magic along with that of the runes on the archmage’s hand. Her strength was his strength--and it was incredibly obvious that he was going to need all he could get to bind this bodiless jerk.

Kasyr let's out a ragged wheeze, his hold upon the electrified hunk of door wavering in the aftermath of Hal's assault. Still, the swordsman maintains his hold, poised for whatever fresh bout of malarky was sure to come. ...Such as the the floor beginning to collapse away into a yawning vacuum. There's a moment where the kensai lurches forward unexpectedly, one hand flailing through the air as gravity begins to take hold- and then the next he's coming to abrupt stop- one foot sharply colliding against the flat of a swiftly summoned sword. A fresh shock of pain ripples through his chest, and yet- he's at least prevented any further awkwardness. Especially as a figurative staircase of blades coalesceses into existence within his proximity, providing Odhranos and Khitti with unnaturally anchored platforms for their benefit. That said- that doesn't really do much for the others present, with Ernest being a more practical concern. Magic seems to vaporize in his vicinity, after all, which makes a rescue difficult. And yet- it also represents an opportunity. Before Kasyr has time to second guess the logistics or consequences of his action, he adjusts the direction of the door chunk he's clutching, leveling it towards the mummy, before discharging it in his direction. After all, Ernest can't -fall- to his potential doom, if he's busy being cannonballed. And hey, at least this means both Ernest and Kas will get to find out if ramming an anti-mage of sorts into the magical field around the observatory will provide an adequate distraction for Hal. Just don't question the moral logistics of this action.

Quintessa is stuck in a state of utter shock for a moment after her attack cleaves Haladavar’s head clean from his shoulders, a wave of disbelief causing her to hesitate as the trap was set off underneath her feet. The hexblade expected many things from this encounter, but for such an accurate and devastating attack to be amounted to nothing shook her to the core. She staggers backwards, her heels edging closer to where the floor was pulling out from under her like a rug, struggling to come up with a way to respond until- Quintessa’s stomach lurches as she feels herself falling backwards, eyes flickering downward to spot the cyclone of blades that beckoned her to her grave. The changeling wasn’t ready to die, however. Her boots glow faintly from the runic pattern she had inscribed on them, reacting as their wearer swung her left hand out in a frantic gesture to forge a connection with the shadow realm. Like a flat pool of water floating on an invisible surface, Quintessa rips open a weak portal and falls into it, traversing in the dark reflection world for a brief moment before a second portal opens and spits her back out, projecting her towards the metal arches that framed the observatory’s glass ceiling. Gripping onto the decorative frame with her left hand and bracing her boots against them as footholds, her mismatched eyes leer back to the center of the room, searching for a new target. A disembodied voice just wouldn’t do… For now, keeping out of the magical blender was the best she could do.

Lanlan feels the floor giving way, and instinctively casts a levitation spell beneath him. But the pull of the abyss overcomes it, and even draws in the duplicates he made of himself and everybody else. They drift down sadly into the spinning blades and pop gruesomely with a squelch, like they were water balloons full of blood. He’ll be next if he can’t think of anything. Although it might take a while because he’s drifting very slowly. However, he doesn’t give up He pulls on the cuffs of his sleeve, revealing they were empty, and then he flicks his wrist. A glass wand appears and becomes charged with magic. He twirls it over his head, then casts an invisible tether over to the Archmage. He pulls on the invisible tether and mimes his way over to him. Secure as long as Odhranos is, he jabs the point of his wand three times into the air between himself and Odhranos’s chains, creating a triangle with three particular runes as points. Then he floods copious amounts of magic through the triangle, into the chain, and up toward Haladavar.

Karasu gives a primal growl in return to that of Haldavar's cry of pain. She uses the stump of his hand as a platform to launch backwards. "Tessa, hold frame!" She calls out to her fellow spellblade before disappearing into a puff of black smoke. Two pairs of smoke encircle the room as Magik grabs those who may fall into the vortex and those on the glass to place them back in the safety of the entryway, and Karasu searches for a place to launch an attack. She reappears on the glass window's lowest tier, using the brass as a foothold just as the pyromancer takes a grumbling mummy to safety. As she moves to draw her sword, her balance falters as the brass gives away. A false panel inside the wall reveals itself. Carefully, Karasu bends upside down to peer inside. A memory resurfaces, of a school administrator before his possession and demise reprimanding a very cranky student. 'Since you can't be trusted not to set these off early before the Celestial Celebration Ball, I'll be placing these somewhere safe from now on.' Karasu takes a large, colorful cylinder from the wall storage and shouts for attention in one of her native tongues. "Oye, maricón!" Hoised upon her shoulder is a large firework, meant to be launched well above Xalious before detonation. "Brenwyn says hello." With the last word spoken, red-violet fires slip from her maw and light the fuse. The same red-violet fire engulfs her form, and Karasu kicks off the glass to launch the projectile at Haladavar. Struck or not, the room would erupt with a clap of thunderous sound. The thick glass of the room shatters as streaks of colorful flames burst outwards and over the tower. From over the sound, Karasu shouts, "Now!"

Haladavar, whose essence is contained in the soulcage, is bound by the azure chains, and once again to his body, which is suspended in mid air just under the ceiling. Try as he might to become ethereal again, he is unable. So he focuses his attention on Odhranos. “Oh I’m bound to you, am I? No! You are bound to me! Ahahaha!” He cackles madly as he starts to funnel in his own magic to reel in the chains, and Odhranos with them. “You’re all jealous that I’m about to achieve what every mage dreams of! What none of you could ever hope to gain! Except you, you lowly mudmage,” he says as the azure chain that binds him to Odhranos is slowly overtaken. Link by link, the blue tether turns gold. “I’ll absorb you and feast on you for years to come. You can be the one witness. Until the very last bit of your essence is consumed, I’ll keep you alive and conscious.” But the mages aren’t ready to succumb to oblivion just yet, and they pester him with further feeble attempts to destroy him. Only now, as Haladavar was beginning to realize, it was possible. In a fury, he grabs the ethereal chains with his glowing amber arms, and screams madly. “Fine, I’ll take all of you! Every single one!” Khitti’s blend of shadow and light magic does well to stutter his attempt to take Odhranos’s spell from him, but his power still manages to gain ground over theirs. “Wait.” Kasyr flings a massive projectile at him...no! Two projectiles! A piece of scrap metal and a...mummy? “Stop.” At this anti-magic blow, his body dims and flickers, and the Mage’s Guild begins to gain ground quickly against him. “What the phoque was that?” Says Haladavar as the flinged antimagic mummy+boulder combo bounces off his face and into Magik’s rescuing arms. Lanlan too begins to funnel his magic into the big mage collab that was happening. “Stop!” The action economy was turned massively against him, and even if he did have more power in one eyelash than everyone here, it wouldn’t matter. He couldn’t maintain an ounce of focus. He attempts to reassert his dominance, before he’s hit by a firework. He disappears behind a beautiful and vibrant flower of flames. And when the smoke drifts away, he’s limp, and dim. In a few seconds, he’s coming to his senses. But the mages have overpowered him and he’s completely ensnared by the azure chains. He roars defiantly, reigniting his power as he attempts once again to gain control.

Odhranos is nearly pitched into the void, only held back by Kasyr's hastily summoned blades. However, he soon screams out in pain while the chains continue to lash outwards from his body. As Haladavar strains against the magic, he begins to tear Odhranos' very soul free from his body. As the runes spread further, searing across the Archmage's chest and up his neck and jaw, he can feel his grip on his body growing weaker. <"Not on this side of the Divide, you don't!"> A roar from within Odhranos' chest shakes his essence as Serok rouses himself, sinking his teeth into the terramancer's spirit, seeking to drag it back into his body. Still, Odhranos can feel himself slipping, torn asunder by the chains of magic. In a sudden explosion of light and pyrotechnics, Karasu's firework rends the air apart, granting Odh the brief moment of respite he needs. Khitti's magic seeps into the chains and the terramancer himself, allowing her divine magic to bind soul and body together for the few desperate seconds they need. Finally, Lanlan offers the final piece of the puzzle and with a burst of azure light, the chains meet their host. High above in the air, the amber godling manifests at the nexus of the chains. Haladavar's soul, bound up in this cage of chains that anchors him to life. "You're right Hal, I will witness." Odhranos coughs as he climbs to his feet once again, his arcane shackle raised high above him. "I will witness you, right til the very bitter end. Because right from the start, I was always following in your footsteps, picking up the breadcrumbs you left behind. Everything I learned, I learned because you left it there to be learned. So you're damned right that I'm going to see this through. Right to the bitter, painful end." Odhranos grits his teeth and the last stream of runes burns across his face, turning his blindfold to ash and streaming blue light from his blind eyes. "Sever them!" Odhranos cries, as Haladavar continues to strain, only barely held in check. "Tessa! Break the chains! Now!!!"

Khitti ’s channeling faltered as Odhranos screamed in pain, her line of sight shifting towards the archmage. “No!” Tears welled up in her eyes she doubled her efforts tenfold, using up as much magic as possible to keep Odhranos going. She knew what was coming. She could feel it, just as surely as she felt the change in the air--one of impending doom--the day she threw herself off the bridge in Cenril with horrid amalgamation of her sister, Lydia, and Amarrah in an effort to spare Brand, Lionel, and Meri a terrible fate. She felt it and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “Please don’t do this. There has to be another way! There’s always another way!” Brand had told her the exact same during an argument after her rebirth and her memories had been regained. But… there had been no other way. There had been no time to think about it. Her death had been decided by fate, just as so many other aspects of her life. Her tears flowed freely now as she channeled her magic. She couldn’t stop. Couldn’t let up. “What about us…?” Her question lingered in the magic-tainted air as her exhaustion started to sink in again. ‘Us’. She didn’t mean just her and Odhranos, their friendship. She meant everyone. Everyone that was fighting right now to end this madness. What would they do without him?

Kasyr can take a certain degree of smug satisfaction from the after effects of the mummy missile- but only just, the rest of his attnetion focused on ensuring their makeshift sword-based platforms remained firmly anchored in the air, so they weren't at risk of sinking into the yawning void. To that end, it was becoming easier, Hal's caged state currently avoiding anything new being added to the mix- but the Kensai wasn't all that fond of leaving the outcome to chance. "End this."

Quintessa watches the rest of the battle play out upon her perch above, holding frame just as Karasu reminded her too. The changeling knew she was right, that Quintessa need not dive headlong into danger to find an opening, that one would present itself when ready. Then Odhranos called out to her to strike, and the hexblade’s mouth twisted into a cruel, vindicated smirk. “Thank you, my Archmage.” She whispers, her voice carrying like an eerie breeze through the observatory as she moves into action. Without any more words, Quintessa bends her knees against her footholds and launches herself backwards off the wall, projecting herself into the center of the room as she twists and grips her sword with both hands. Then, as the weight of the Jubaku no Kijo’s groundium core pulls her forward with the power of a meteorite, she slashes downward, the mithril-alloy blade connecting with Haladavar’s magical chains in a brilliant flash of opalescent color. As if a reaction from the dark magic Quintessa possessed coming in contact with the magic of the mystical chains, an arcane explosion radiated from the point of impact, snapping the chain in twain and sending shattering ripples throughout the remaining links in a chain reaction, each snap causing another and then another until nothing was left holding them together. The force of the blast sends Quintessa’s body careening into the opposite wall before she sides to rest on the floor below, her body finally succumbing from the abuse she had been putting it through. There she would catch her breath while she still could.

Lanlan could barely comprehend what happened after Quintessa cut the chains. All the magic that seemed to be funneled within them seemed to explode outward, creating a massive concussive force. Lanlan just grabbed onto the nearest archmage and held on tight while everything around him seemed to turn white.

Karasu feels lightweight, and can feel the wind rushing through the shattered windows of the observatory in this strange form. As those specialized in divine magics finish the creature off, she suddenly notices the ground coming up rather quickly. "I'm falling." She mumbles dazedly before a wisp of smoke intercepts her and places her down next to the Quintessa. The red-violet fires extinguish themselves, leaving the spellblade with her face covered in blood from the gash on her crown. A minute passes, and the room grows quiet. "Where... where's everyone? No casualties, right?" Karasu asks, trying to force herself to stand and failing. Instead, she weakly calls out a role-call, though some names are repeated in her fatigue.

Haladavar:: As the chains are cut, Haladavar does finally become ethereal again, as his soulcage, kept hidden up to this point, draws him inside of it. He howls and claws at the sky for an escape, but its futile, he’s funneled into the amber sphere after the conclusion of Odhranos’s spell takes its course. His spells end, the swordnado and the blackhole disappear. The observatory’s protection fails and pieces of it begin to fall without anything supporting it. The soulcage itself falls unceremoniously to the meditation center below them, landing with a bounce. It wriggles once with Haladavar’s struggles. Then once more. Then the magic seems to settle, and it stops.

Odhranos is still shackled to the chains when the chain-reaction of the exploding magic reaches him, tossing him backwards like a leaf in the wind until he collides with a horrible crunch with a brass strut, dropping him to the ground like a ragdoll. The runes tattooed across his arm seem to waver, as if the light from within them is struggling to stay lit. They flicker, then Odhranos groans with pain, curling himself into a ball. In agony, but very much alive. He reaches out and using the strut, manages to haul himself upright, as a beam of morning light falls across his face. He shades his still glowing eyes with his runed hand then turns to look for Khitti. He smiles broadly, a grin more peaceful than any he has shown in this past month. "We live, and we watch the sun rise." He answers, throwing back his head and laughing brightly, a warm and cheerful sound. He pushes away from the metal, taking a slow and creaky step as he moves towards the centre of the room, where he can hear the sounds of his other comrades and friends. "I'm here Karasu, I'm fine-". Suddenly the terramancer's legs give out from beneath him and he collapses to the floor. The light in his runes winks out, and he lies still and silent. At his side, the golden cage hisses angrily, then it quietens, spilling a small gout of sand onto the floor boards as the storm at its heart falls apart, falling completely silent save for the faint trickle of sand.

Khitti was falling. She was falling and all those memories from her second death came rushing back to her. Not again. Please not again. She had so many things to live for now! She had the family she’d always wanted! And her magic was her own now! Her bakery was doing wonderfully as always! She was a bard too, like she always wanted to be as a kid! The flashback of falling and being cleansed--and killed--by Arkhen’s purifying flames was brought forth in her mind and she let out a scream as she fell. This time, however… she actually hit the bottom. There had been no bottom of the ravine beneath the Cenril bridge last time, for she had already been ash well before she had meant to hit it. But she hit the floor of the meditation room with a rather painful thud, and her planisphere clattered beside her, its own magic spent for now. Odhranos’ voice pulled her out of the shadows of her memories. His laughter brought her even the barest remnants of hope. She even managed a smile as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. But the smile faded as the terramancer collapsed and she was quick to scramble to her feet to get to his side. “Odhranos. Odhranos!” She tried to shake him awake, her tears returning. “Why do you all leave me? Just when things are getting good? When things seem fine? When I think I might actually be happy?” The happiness was always short-lived though and today was no different. She tried her best to summon up her healing magic, the rainbowy, plasma-like substance pulled and stretched like taffy as far as it could go--which unfortunately wasn’t much with her severe lack of mana--and placed it over his body. It tried to sink itself into the terramancer’s form, but it dissipated before it could even begin to start healing him. Is this what it was like for Brand and Meri and Lionel when she died? It had been so long since someone she cared about died. She thought she’d be numb to it, but she was sorely mistaken.

Lanlan was essentially blind once more after his senses are overwhelmed by the massive endomagical reaction that just took place. But with effort he manages to crack his third eye open again, and he can see he’s surrounded by familiar auras. “Did we do it?” He asks, not yet remembering what that means. “I think we did it I don’t see Haladavar anywhere. Kasyr, Khitti, I think its over. Where’s Odhranos.” He looked down at the gray, lifeless blob who’s robe sleeve he was still clutching. Not a glimmer of magic aura coming from this. Slowly he uncoils his hands and releases the robes. The ones Khitti was sobbing over. He stumbles, limping, scrambling to his feet to escape the body of his former and once again friend. “Right,” Lanlan says solemnly, regaining a semblance of his composure. “I remember now. This was the plan.”

Karasu smiles at relief at hearing Odhranos' voice, but the smile is quickly gone as she hears Khitti's cries and Lanlan's lament. "What was the plan?" The demifeline grips at the brass frames of the blown observatory, ignoring the stabbing pains from the broken glass under her hands. "Odhranos?" She tries to wipe the blood from her face, but only succeeds in scratching herself further. "Odie?" She gets a glimpse of the lifeless Archmage. Karasu trembles, willing herself to see movement in his body, to see his eyes open, and yet they do not. "Odie...?" Her voice cracks as she lets go of the frame to stagger over to the trio. She kneels at Odhranos' side, her bloodied hands unable to stop shaking. "That's... we did everything right, right? You promised that you weren't going away again..." Tears roll down her face. She vaguely feels a hand on her shoulder and she shakes it off, clutching at Odhranos' robes. This fear was different to the one she felt when she found out her father was a deranged devotee of Vakmatharas, and worse than when she felt her own body teeter on the edge of life and death. "You promised!! We're family, right? Family-- family doesn't break promises, right?!" Karasu raises her voice, slapping his shoulder with an open palm. As other hands grab her to pull away from the Archmage, the light of the sunrise falls on the warriors. The sunlight was warm, but not warm enough to thaw the ice flowing in the veins of the true Mage's Guild survivors, nor was the chirping of the morning skylarks enough to drown out the wails