Feel my love!
Joined: 18 Oct 2002
Location: Mage's Guild, Ansteorra
|Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 1:14 pm Post subject: The Towers' Fall
|The blonde haired femme placed her paw over the crystal scrying ball, feeling its smooth surface across her palm. She seemed frazzled, as if sleep had been denied for many nights. Around the circular stone room stood other mages, dressed in heavy combat robes, each attuned to their own scrying ball.
"Grandmistress Alouette. Alert the Archmage that he is to release the thread in three minutes."
Alouette nodded, giving no verbal response as her voice was elsewhere, giving an update to the Archmage in the field. A spell like this had never been attempted before, at least not to the memories of any who still walk the surface of Feanor, or the ancient tomes of power that yet survive from the days before the Lich King's War. A thousand master mages stretching and pulling the weave itself to weaken it around the City of Towers.
One of the basic laws of the Weave is that it tends to an equilibrium. If a region is too threadbare, it will tighten up, and a thicker region will loosen. A careful mage can even measure the effect as even the simplest spell is cast. Today, this effect is taken to an extreme: snapback.
Pytch's power has stretched a hole in the weave in the city itself, leaving a dark blot where reality itself is weak, and Voidkin can spawn freely. The rituals that had pulled against the weave the the past year or so only helped this along, until the Weave itself could not handle it any longer, and had to relax. This final ritual was all that was needed.
The Archmagess Kitzibeth stood at the cliff face in Ansteorra, looking out over the Crescent Sea to the north. It was a moment that she'd hoped for and dreaded ever since that vile Heretic returned on the coattails of Thelmin's demise. Those in the group around her had only the barest glimpse of an idea as to what could be happening to the very fabric of reality around them.
Tekarin Hertzold turns and squints through the mist, trying to see whatever it is that Kitzibeth sees. "Snapback?" Her ear pivots a bit when Dirk speaks and she turns back to face him. "I was just.." What she was doing wasn't really important so she decides to drop it. Whatever in the world Kitzibeth was talking about on the other hand sounded pretty durn important. "The snapback'll reseal the Heritic?" She was such a lost cow..
Kitzibeth shakes her head. "I don't expect you to understand. Suffice it to say that if everything works perfectly, the City of Towers will be destroyed, but the Heretic will be sealed. It is a terrible trade off, but .." She trails off. "..It is necessary."
Devon Neilan's eyes widen slightly as he turns to look at Kitzibeth, "They're to seal Pytch? Who?! Who would dare attempt to enter that city again?!" His expression has gone from casual to concerned as he turns from the Archmagess and northward to the small point of mist that everyone seems to be focusing on.
[#] Off on the distance, what seems to be a bright dot of the purest white light shines in the darkness. Brighter than even the brightest of Tallus' Shards, it flashes for a short second, and winks out, fading ever so slowly as an afterglow against the retina. Almost without a pause, what appears to be a clear, shimmering glow radiates outward spherically, rapidly expanding at nearly the speed of light itself, reorganizing the weave from the air to the ground beneath, stretching, flexing, bending reality in its wake. Within moments it seems right upon the city, having traversed the nearly 300 miles to the City of Towers in almost no time at all.
Kitzibeth shouts to the assembled masses. "Get down!" As she drops to one knee and sheilds herself with one arm crossed over her forhead. Her lips shout something interminable as the wave crosses
Tekarin Hertzold winces and raises a hand to sheild herself from... From what she did not know! She also steps back a bit, but doesn't look away for a second. This was incredible... Better than any fireworks she'd ever seen! Of course she also realized how tremendously important it was, now that her memory had been jarred, but "Look at the pretty fireworks" was still the first thing that came to mind. As soon as Kitzibeth dropped though she hit the dirt hard, grabbing Sung and Dirk, pulling them down as well.
Dirk Felis blinks for sveral moments "Huh... so that's it...." apparently underwhelmed at the equivalent of a nuclear device, though at Kitzibeth's shout he's on the ground as fast as somebody who'd been shot. When
Kitzibeth shouted a heads up... well... thinking it over was generally a bad idea.
Sung Kwon was pulled down with Tekarin, his hand grabbing Amyra by the wrist to bring her down as well to protect her. He curled up to make the smallest target he could out of himself, Arms criss crossing over his head, held rigid to make a strong martial artist's block to protect himself from what was happening.,
Amyra stares in awe at the events that justtook place. Falls with Sung and shivers furiously in confusion and fear. She has her hair cover her hair, so she can not see what will happen next.
[#] For note, the city of Towers is nearly 300 miles away, well north of the Crescent sea, and the explosion was -that bright-. Take that into account
Devon Neilan's eyes widen, and he finds himself promptly blinded by the flash. More or less unable to react, the gazelle throws himself to the ground, particularly down to one knee. Grinding his cloven hooves into the ground as his cape flows wildly behind, his first reaction beyond this is to shoot his blurred gaze to the side and take a look at everyone's condition. He had no time to cast a protective shield from the blast, and he could only hope to the Primes above that none were injured.
[#] Kitzibeth's spell, [7/7 Vacuus] for those keeping track, envelops the entire crowd in a strange wispy reality. Around them, it seems as if for only a few seconds, things seem less 'solid', less 'real', as if all of reality was a sweater that had become stretched out and nearly unraveled. But that momentary oddness ends abruptly as the wave of clear energy passes over. In the instant of passage, everything seems -more- real, and solid. Those who sense magic or cast spells would feel a sort of magical strangulation for a mere instant, like being squeezed through a very very very small turtleneck. And then.. nothing. It is as if nothing happened other than the fading spot on the back of one's retina had they seen the explosion.
Dirk Felis very, very slowly begins to sit upright once whatever protective shielding passed over them. The cogs of what had just transpired turning to a conclusion about as quickly as the rise and fall of the tides. "... what just happend?' he'd blearily inquire, his mind internally unwilling to accept reality, even against better logic.
Tekarin Hertzold pushes back up to her feet and checks to see if everyone is alright. She puts the strangeness of Kitzibeth's spell out of her mind and once she's checked on everyone looks back over the sea. ".....Did it work?" It certainly looked like something had happened alright.
Sung Kwon moved his arms out of the way then leapt to his feet. Sometime during the spell he had equipped his "Wrist Claws," since it sounded, from Kitzibeth's warning, that something was going to happen. There could be a fight, or something at least. Best to be prepared, since the "Wrist Claws" didn't restrict movement of his hands and didn't get in the way.
Amyra move the hair from her eyes. She looks around as millions of thoughts run through her head. "I-is it over?" She asks with her voice trembling. Her eyes show she feels lost and confused. Her hands won't stop shaking, its as if she has lost complete control of them. She begins to cry because of how confused she is.
Kitzibeth stands up quietly, brushing a bit of snow from her paw, which, to the watchful eye would look red and raw from where the snow touched it. "If that didn't work.. I'm unsure as to what could." With a flourish, she touches her temple and closes her eyes for a few moments, mouth closed, but her jaw obviously shifting slightly in a some sort of silent speech.
Devon Neilan takes a moment to catch his breath slowly. He swallows hard and blinks his vision back into focus. He raises his voice as best he is able to those present, "Is everyone alright!? No one is hurt?! My good Archmagess, are you quite alright?" He pulls himself to his feet, the plating of his armor shifting a bit as he places a hand on the femme's shoulder, the Templar's focus then shifting about to those others present who hadn't yet stood. He makes his way over to help them each up.
Kitzibeth's eyes pop open at Devon's touch, and she slaps his hoof away sharply. "Better than I'd hoped. Almost the entire city. And if you interrupt me while I am in conference again, I shall remove your antlers from your head and reattach them to your eyes, Paladin." She glowers at the not quite as tall as he seems furre.
Dirk Felis frowns briefly at the lack of response... though eventually the barkeep's brain makes a conclusion. "Oh... wow...." standing up in a slightly unsettled fashion as he only begins to comprehend the destructive force necessary for him to have -felt- the shockwave from this far off. "Well... let's retire to the tavern... shall we?" his voice faintly shaky. "I need a drink..."
Tekarin Hertzold steps forward to the railing and grabs it with both hands, staring out over the ocean. She'd never known that magic could be that powerful...
Amyra looks across the sea, and wonders. Her brow furrows, and she moves her hair out of the way, putting it in a ponytail. She does not speak, unsre of wat to say. She stopped crying, her paw has stopped shaking, and her stance is firm. It is obvious that she is thinking of her past now.
Amyra several moments past. She takes a deep breath and wanders off to the tavern. She shows no emotion at this point, nor does she notice anyone. It is as if she is a ghost. She is humming softly, it sounds like a lullaby.
Tekarin Hertzold lets go of the railing, the snow trapped under her hands crumbling away. She turns and heads off as well. Nothing else was going to happen and she needed a drink. Dirk had the right idea.
Devon Neilan nods to himself as everyone appears to be regaining their composure. At Kitzibeth's comment, the Templar casts a sharp stare in her direction, "Really, now, rather. I was only showing a bit of concern, there is absolutely no need for you to be rude. And, you may take note, I really have very little use of your threats, either, Archmagess. You would do well to keep them to yourself, I have no ear for it."
Kitzibeth: "Go celebrate, Paladin. Your life has been spared one more day to draw breath." With that, she vanishes in a poof of brimstone.
1) 89% of the City of Towers has been destroyed by the relaxation of the Weave.
2) Pytch's Voidkin armies have been mostly wiped out.
3) Any of the Crystal Guard that did not evacuate have given their lives to the common good.
4) Pytch survived, and has not been sealed, however, his sphere of influence and power is greatly diminished.
Sirum Hest: [It reads: It's great to be smart 'cause then you know stuff.]
Sirum Hest: [.. >>? It lacks a '- Kitzerina']