Vlindrel:Just Fucking Die

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Tate: He leans against the stone slab that he just scrambled under, taking deep breaths as he can now that he doesn't feel like he's being crushed. He knows he should be hurrying, but he just needs a moment the collect himself. This is a monumentally shitty day. Loki is rubbing his head agains Tate's shoe, and then pulls it away to scratch his little ears. ...Fuck... Can I just lay here and die? He looks up into the darkness. That seems like a good i- Ow! He pulls his leg away, Loki have nibbled him with a quick sharp bite. Fuck-Fine let's keep... Being alive I guess. He rolls his eyes and gets to his feet, his chest still aching. At least when I'm top-side I can just kill myself... Again... And again...
As Tate stands up, a flickering black moth flutters in the air around him. It circles the boy several times before flying farther into the darkness, shining with a pale lavendar glow. It leaves a trail of tiny twinkling stars that hover in the air. More moths quickly join it and a trail of stars are left in their wake as they all flutter in the same direction.
Tate: He watches the moth for a moment. ...The dark will light my path... Is this what the astronaut meant? He starts to breath more steadily, the claustrophobic panic still having a slight hold on him. After a moment he quickly follows the trail, lingering adrenaline and the stakes outside keeping him moving. Loki runs up his side and jumps into his scarf, the little familiar tries to grab at the stars in his small paws.
As Tate follows the moths, they begin to scatter and the stars they leave dimly illuminate the room. The walls are made of black stone, with large rectangular doors crafted from the same polished silvery metal as the portcullis outside, polished so finely that they almost look like huge mirrors with locks in them. As Tate continues forwards, the moths illuminate someone sitting in a large padded chair against the left wall. Wearing black clothing with gold accents and piping, the figure's head shimmers as the moths dance around it, but it remains completely still.
Tate: He slows down his walking speed as he sees the figure. He whispers to Loki. Maybe he's dead. He walks much more quietly, starting to move to the right to walk passed it.
Anestette: Welcome. She has a heavy european accent in her voice. As Tate looks at her, he can see that she's wearing a polished silver helmet that fully encompasses her head. Part of the helmet is inlaid with an incredibly ornate The helmet is almost featureless, and the face is just a mirror-polished surface that reflects the light of the moths. I am Anestette. Keeper of this Reliquary, and a Pilgrim of the Abyss... Just as you are. She remains motionless for a moment before look up at Tate. Her silver casque has no openings, but she can see him all the same.
Tate: You're not the girl I saw the other night, are you? He eyes her up and down, but keeps his distance.
Anestette: I believe this is the first time we've met. She sits back, staying seated. I have been here for a very long time... The moths flutter about her in circles, seeming to orbit her familiarly. Have you traveled here, seeking dark... As I have?
Tate: I'm looking for a poll axe... Called the Eochiar. I need it to get the hell out of this place.
Anestette: I see... A thin glowing line appears beside her. It slowly lengthens before flashing and creating a circular portal, the edge of which glows with a pale ring of blue light. Within the portal is the image of distant gothic towers set against a huge moon. If escape is what you sought within this sanctum, then let me grant it to you... A pathway to Argyria. Mayhap you return... And seeketh not what rest deeper into the dark... For it is best left unsought...
Tate: He sees the city on the other side, knowing that's where the Fire Keeper said to go. He almost considers it to get the hell out of the Pyxis, but quickly shakes his head. I'm not from Argyria, and I need the weapon to help my friends who are still outside.
Anestette: I should have known you were not from my homeland... Due to your accent... She looks down at the ground. And yet... I smelt within you... Pale blood... That is not unlike my own... She pulls at hems of her gloves and then crosses her hands over her lap. ...But you say that you are not from Argyria. The portal snaps shut with a loud "pop" that's similar in sound to when a light bulb burns out. ...What heresy is it now, in this misbegotten age... That an outsider be gifted with...? She looks up to Tate, her voice now sounding distrusting. If you dare to take that which is not to be taken... Know that you will receive no further aid from me... And that the way ahead is quite treacherous... And quite impossible... So leave this place... Return from whence you came... And sweep all thought of the holy weapon... From thy mind... She looks back down, making it obvious that she will speak with him no more.
Tate: He narrows his eyes at her and then ignores her quickly making his way forward. He whispers to Loki. Keep an eye on her. Loki peaks out of Tate's scarf and looks back at the woman as Tate quickens his pace into a brisk jog that quickly turns into a run, wanting to put distance between him and strange woman and also not wanting to waste anymore time.
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Meanwhile...
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The Knight has since broken out of the ice block and has resumed attacking Barlowe. The two of them have been fighting.
Barlowe: He backs up and conjures several blasts of smoke that explode around the Knight to slow him down. Any sign of Tate!?
Kaali: She's sitting against the slab, her arm on her shoulder. None!
Black Knight: He shimmers and slides across the ground, thrusting his massive blade at Barlowe's heart.
Barlowe: He must've run into opposition! He spins his staff around and several ten foot spines of ice burst from the ground up into the oncoming knight.
Black Knight: As he dashes a veil of humanity infuses him, and he turns completely pitch-black with only a shimmering white outline. As the first spine hits him he pauses in place for a split-second, before it simply explodes away in a shower of powdered snow-crystals. This repeats for each subsequent spine until he reaches Barlowe and slashes powerfully.
Barlowe: His eyes go wide as he sees the Knight power through each spine and he quickly spins his staff, firing a powerful blast of smoke directly down into the ground below him. The smoke explodes and launches Barlowe high up into the air, above the portcullis. As he reaches the peak of his acent a block of ice shoots out from the wall and extends far enough for him to land on it. He slides to the edge of the block, swinging staff down and pointing it at the Knight, a barrage of icy shards rains down around him, all of them converging on the Knight's position as they fall. As before, each shard that lands true expands into a huge chunk of heavy ice that weights the Knight down quickly immobilizing him.
Black Knight: He looks up at Barlowe, staring at him as the veil of darkness fades. As each shard collides with him, his helmet begins to glow brightly and he thrusts his sword up into the air. A pure white light begins shining down onto Barlowe from above, accompanied by a muffled static-like sound.
Barlowe: He watches the Knight. What in the hell is he doing now? He looks up as he sees the strange light shining down all around him.
Black Knight: As that ice expands over his body, inching up to his neck line, a deep voice echoing with power exudes from the previously wordless Knight just as it overcomes his head. Loinnyr. As Barlowe looks up, a huge portal has opened, and through it the Negative Sun hands far above. The black-white sun erupts with a powerful prominence of liquid-white darkness that detatches and spreads apart, falling through the portal and down into the cavern as an apocalyptic bombardment of small shimmering meteors.
Barlowe: His eyes tremble as they reflect the oncoming meteors. ...What manner of power is this?
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Meanwhile...
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As Tate continued after his encounter with Anestette, he's quickly left the hall behind and enters a large chamber, the swarm of moths that are leading him have quickly spread out, leaving their tiny glowing pinpoints of light in their wake to light the room. Running the breadth of the chamber is a wide depthless divide that's about fifty feet across. Though there was once a bridge that spanned it, it has since collapsed and little of it remains other than the indication that it was there at all. Unlike the previous hall, made of polish metals and pristine stone, this chamber looks more mundane, build from more typical materials that were added later, and as such did not stand the test of time as the Loyce architecture has.
Tate: He looks around, looking back at the way they came. He bites his lower lip and taps his foot a little. Well who the fuck put this fucking thing here?! Loki lets out an annoyed growl as he jumps off of Tate and runs to the remains of the bridge. Tate looks around again, then up at the ceiling trying to see if there's a way across before walking nearer to the edge. This is taking way fucking longer than it should've.
As the moths settle on the other side of the bridge, one of them lands on a long-limbed figure, that of a long-limbed dog-like animal wrapped in bloody bandages. It has the same fur pattern and shape as the Hyena Skinwalkers from above, but looks more mutate. It's sleeping, curled up on the top of a small pile of bones and clothes. In the silence, Tate can hear it making quiet growl as it slowly breaths in and out.
Tate: He looks closer to better make out the creature. He whispers to himself. Fucking great, one of those shitty skinwalkers... So when I actually find a way across... I get to get eaten. He looks up and around again for a way to get across the bridge.
There's nothing that would allow him to climb or make his way across, and the only other exit is back where he came.
Tate: He sighs. Think I could Flicker across that if I spam it or something? Loki makes a "Nip!" sound. ...Yeah... It's too far... He looks around some more. This can't just be a dead fucking end, can it? Came all this fucking way just so I could hit a wall? ...Or a cliff I guess... He makes a pouting face. Who the fuck puts so many damn bottomless pits in these places anyway? After a second he sits down on the edge, taking a moment to rest despite being pressed for time.
One of the moths lands on the Skinwalker's nose, and it twitches several times before waking up, the moth quickly fluttering away. The Hyena looks around for a moment, before it looks to Tate with glowing yellow eyes in the darkness. It lets out a low deep growl.
Tate: He kicks his feat over the edge, looking to the Skinwalker. Loki runs up and sits beside him, standing on his hind legs. Mind telling me how you got the fuck over there? No habla ingles? He shakes his head, then looks to Loki. Think I could throw you over there and you could take him out? Loki looks up at Tate with an unamused look.
The Hyena looks around, trying to find a way across to eat the witch boy, making it obvious that he doesn't know a path across either.
Tate: ...Wait a second... Throwing... His eyes go wide and he grabs Loki. That's a good idea! The little ferret starts squeaking loudly and struggles to get free of Tate's hand. Calm down I'm not throwing you. He puts the familiar on his shoulder and then grabs his Chakram. It floats up above his hands and slowly begins to rotate before the center of it glows with a green-blue light. I bet I can clear that easy. He smirks and grabs the chrisened chakram from the air. He takes a moment to eye the Skinwalker. Get ready for a fight Loki! Loki lets out a growl as he glares at the Hyena creature, and Tate throws the Chakram across the divide.
Knowing his intent, the Chakram homes in on the Hyena, who watches the weapon, ignorant to what it is. Seeing its sharpened black edges too late, it attempts to to duck it at the last moment, but is struck across the shoulders by the black spinning frisbee at the last second. Tate vanishes in a quick flash and instantly appears across the chasm, holding the chakram. The skinwalker itself was cut pretty deeply, its fleshy hide having little resistance to the honed edge.
Tate: After practicing for hours last night against Barlowe's big ass knight, he knows how this works. As he appears, despite still being a little disorientated, he immediately turns and slashes hi chakram down into the Hyena's back before it even knows what's happening. This is quickly followed by a glowing stream of Brine that blasts across the skinwalker's face, the salt getting into the creature's eyes and mouth as the crystals quickly build up.
The Skinwalker shrieks a hysterical laugh as it grabs at its back and then its fact. It stumbles back and forth on its long twisted limbs and starts slashing at the build up of salt with its claws.
Tate: He stops channeling Brine and runs forwards and kicks the creature as hard as he can, which is admittedly not very hard at all since he's small and light, but it's enough to send the skinwalker stumbling towards the edge. As he balances himself he charges up his chakram, and a barrage of five glowing blasts of water slam into the Skinwalker, each sending it stumbling closer to the edge before it slips off and falls into the bottomless pit.
As the Skinwalker falls it realizes what's happening and one of its mangled paw-hands draws up and hooks onto the ledge, scratching at it several times before slipping off. There's a far off cry as it vanishes into the dark below. The moths meander towards the next passage, lighting Tate's path.
Tate: He smirks and turns, running for the next passage.
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Meanwhile...
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A huge ice spike erupts above Barlowe to block one of the falling meteors.
Barlowe: Geometric purple shapes descend around him, stacking up into a box and he vanishes, appearing far across the bridge opposite the portcutlis, using the smaller passageway they entered through earlier as cover from the sun's rain. This has gone on long enough! He swings his staff and a blast of glowing purple energy streaks across the bridge, rings of power rippling off of it. The cursed bolt strikes the Knight, rings of neon-purple energy rushing up and down around him infusing into the black plates of his armor, ripping at the material and divine power that makes it indestructible.
Black Knight: As the energy ripples around him a meteor slams into him, instantly burning away all the ice. As the white-hot darkness clears, the Knight is on the floor, looking much less pristine than he has. Though the meteor itself didn't damage him, Barlowe's repeated hits with his ancient spells had already worn away at his plate armor's durability, and the curse had only magnified these weak points. As the block of ice was shattered to more quickly free himself, the heavy chunks also ripped several of the plates off and cracked most of the remaining ones. The Knight gets to his feet and turns to look at Barlowe, a glowing white eye glaring at the old man from a crack in the front of his helmet. The knight raises his sword, and as the portal to the Negative Sun closes, a single ball of blinding white darkness rains from above, falling like an unnatural shooting star, it hits the tip of the Knight's blade, turning it pitch-black. The knight immediately turns and swings his huge sword, sending out an ethereal black arc of energy tearing across the bridge towards the old wizard.
Barlowe: He watches the Knight's attack race across the bridge towards him. ...As tenacious a foe I've ever fought! Violet shapes of energy descend around him, and he vanishes just as the blade reaches his position.
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Meanwhile...
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As Tate continued from the room with the broken bridge and the skinwalker, he came to a spiral stair that went on for several floors before ending in a short hall that opens up into a huge circular chamber, the moths are already down here, spread throughout the upper parts of room to light it with their cosmic guidance. The floor is a rickety set of rotten wooden scaffolding that's been built atop towers of rusting iron catwalks and grates. Between each of these structures runs planks or rope bridges. Far below, at the base of the towers, is a watery pit that glows an ominous blue. Above him, countless iron cages hang from the darkness above, the moths only illuminating them slightly.
Tate: He looks down at the shoddy walkways and narrows his eyes, slowly stepping out onto them. ...The hell is the point of making a jail at the bottom of a pit no one can escape from? He takes it one step at a time, slow as he can to ensure he doesn't fall or break through the floor, while still moving somewhat quickly.
Old Prisoner: An old man's voice echoes out from above him. To keep things that can't be kept. An old and malnourished man, wrapped in old tattered bandages and leather is sitting above him in a cell, his thin atrophied legs going through the bars and hanging there limply. ...You speak colloquial?
Unseen Prisoner: Before Tate can respond, another man's voice rings out from somewhere else above, in another cage somewhere. Of course he does you idiot, everyone speaks colloquial!
Lady Prisoner: It sounds like a nasally old woman, also from a cage somewhere above. It's common tongue you fools! No one's called it colloquial for hundreds of years!
Tate: He stops, grabbing on a post to make sure he doesn't slip or fall, and looks up at the hanging cells. After a moment he calls out in a loud voice. I'm looking for the Eochair, any of you know where it is?
There's a murmur of speaking above him, several voices, not just the three.
Unseen Prisoner: I know where it is!
Lady Prisoner: No he doesn't. She cackles maniacally
Unseen Prisoner: I do! I saw it!
Old Prisoner: Well where is it then, hmph? Tell the boy!
Unseen Prisoner: It's... Well if you let me out I'll show you!
Lady Prisoner: She cackles again. No one's baffoon enough to free you!
Tate: He raises an eyebrow. Do you know where the fuck it is or not!?
Old Prisoner: He leans against the bars to look down at Tate, allow Tate to get a glimpse of him. His head looks gravely misshapened, and the front of it protrudes, almost like he has an animal snout under the bandages.
Lady Prisoner: That's quite rude! Begone tiny thing!
Unseen Prisoner: But free me first! The old woman starts cackling again.
Old Prisoner: The centuries down here in the dark has gotten them, turned their minds to mush...
Lady Prisoner: We can't hear you! She laughs again, quieter this time. La-la-la!
Old Prisoner: Run along now... With haste... No sense in listening to us anymore than you have to... He pulls his head back out of sight.
Tate: He quickly starts making his way across the rickety platforms, making a mental note to keep an eye out for crazy people.
As Tate runs he suddenly falls through the floor, a rotten plank breaking away. He crashes onto a metal grate. The fall isn't quite far enough to cause injury, but it still hurts. Around him are large jars, and hanging dried out carcasses.
Tate: Fuck... He sits up and rubs the back of his hand with his right hand, while rubbing his knee with his left. He looks back up to the hole he fell through. Fucking figures...
Lady Prisoner: Shouldn't have run! She cackles loudly. Should've watched your step!
Unseen Prisoner: You're right fucked now!
Old Prisoner: Food for the dogs... He laughs quietly. Stupid boy...
A few of the clay jars are suddenly slammed away by a huge club. A massive creature, wrapped tightly in bloodied rusted bandages stomps forwards. Her upper body is like that of a woman's, but her forearms have swelled to massive club-like formations that are heavily deformed. Her lower body is like a centaur's in formation, only made of what looks to be two female bodies fused together, with long shapely legs and iron high heels welded into her ankles. The monster stomps forwards and pulls its head into view, which is wrapped up tightly in old leather. She lets out a shriek like a large cat and begins heavily stomping towards Tate. She slams another set of jars out of her path and raises her huge club-like arm to crush Tate into pulp.
Tate: J-jesus fucking CHRIST! He immediately rolls away as the huge arm slams down here he was. He gets to his feet and runs in the opposite direction of the monster.
One of the ropes holding the steel grate breaks and Tate slips, sliding down the slope its made and off the edge, sending him flying over the watery pit far below and crashing through the rotting wood of a nearby structure. It's another room full of large jars and rotting meats.
Misshapen: She roars as slams her huge arms into the side of the structure Tate was just in. She thrusts one of her club-like arms down towards Tate and a bloody tentacle tipped with a bundle of hooks blasts out, directly at Tate.
Tate: What the- He flickers out of the way, reappearing getting to his feet. -FUCK!? He looks around as he runs.
Misshapen: The bundle of hooks latch onto the metal grate. She leaps from the tower she's on and the tentacle goes taut, pulling her towards the tower Tate landed in. She slams onto the grate with a heavy crash that sends the entire tower shaking. Rotten wooden boards fall down around Tate.
As Tate looks around he sees one of the iron cells swinging just outside of the tower, swinging back and forth over the pit, low enough that he could jump onto the top of it and climb up using the chain.
Tate: He bats away some of the falling boards, and puts his arms over his head as he runs to the edge. He looks to the hanging jail cell, then looks back at the monster.
Misshapen: She roars, her head spasming, twitching, and violently shaking, and then rips her tentacle from the grating, tearing the iron apart. She starts making her way towards Tate, stomping to him slowly, her arms obviously too heavy for her four feminine legs to pull quickly. Blood has started pouring from the leather wrapped around her face. She shrieks again, making what almost sounds like a word. MMAH-EYN!
Tate: His eyes go wide and he takes a step back before running and jumping to the hanging cell.
Misshapen: She slams her huge hands into the floor as Tate runs to take his jump, causing him to miss-step right before he jumps. He flies through the air, not getting nearly as much lift as he should've, slamming into the side of the cell rather than on top of it.
Lady Prisoner: Well well... She's curled up on the floor of the cell, and turns to look at Tate. Like everyone else her form is heavy bandaged. She moves her head to face Tate. Don't you look pretty. As she turns to look at Tate he can see several eyes open, all on the right side of her face.
Tate: The fuck is this place man!? He scrambles up the side of the cage and climbs on top, quickly getting to the chain.
Lady Prisoner: She starts cackling hysterically. Come back pretty come back! She cackles again, even louder this time, but it's suddenly cut off and replaced by a loud wheeze.
Misshapen: She shot her tentacle out, intending to skewer Tate, but it instead went right through the Lady Prisoner's chest. The tentacle goes taut and pulls the Lady against the bars with a loud slam. The Misshapen monster digs its iron heels into the grate and begins pulling with more strength, and the entire cage begins to groan and squeak as it's pulled towards the tower the creature stands in. GAHEEEEEEEVE! The chain begins to pull diagonal, making it harder to climb up.
Tate: He grips the chain as tightly as he can, starting to panic. Fuck-this-fuck-this! After a moment he take a deep breath and he continues to climb, trying to keep from falling.
The shackle that binds the chain to the top of the cell suddenly snaps, and the chain Tate's climbing/hanging onto is suddenly send swinging through the air. He slams into another hanging cell, bouncing off of it. The impact weakens his grip on the chain and he's sent flying off of it and onto the floor of another iron tower.
Tate: As he's flung through the air, Loki isn't able to hold on anymore and instead leaps from Tate and to the next tower first, rolling a few times before stopping on his feet. He looks up and makes a loud squeak, leaping out of the way as Tate crashes down after him and rolls over where the little ferret was. Tate just lays there for a moment. Every fiber of his physical being just wants to lay there. Get... Up... C'mon... He moves his arms, then slowly pushes himself up. C'mon move. He gets to his feet and looks back to where he came from before walking away. He has cuts and scrapes all up his arms and he's bleed from a cut on his scalp somewhere, the blood staining his blue beanie and running through some of the hair that hangs over his face.
Misshapen: She rips the cage open, and one of her forearms opens up to reveal hundreds of tiny human molars. It chomps down onto the mutated woman, gobbling her up in seconds. After this the creature looks across the gap to Tate, staring at him for a moment, before turning around and shambling off into the darkness.
Tate: ...Fuck... Everything... About that fucking thing... Holy fucking... Shit... He holds his hands up. With our luck we'll run into that fucker again... He takes a labored breath and looks around. His head is starting to hurt.
This tower has a large iron elevator, but the lift itself is far below at the bottom of the watery pit below, dimly illuminated by blue glow. A lever is to the right to call it up.
Tate: He sighs and looks to the lever, wiping blood from his eyes. Please God, just let this be the end of this fucking nightmare. He a grabs the lever, pulling at it.
The elevator starts to come up, but stops a third the way up, the chains pulling it up catching on something. There's a loud grinding sound and the tower shakes for a moment, then there's a "clang" and the chains release, sending the the elevator crashing back down into the glowing water below.
Tate: He just shakes his head and speaks in a dry sarcastic tone. Well would you look at that... It's completely fucking safe. He looks around and gulps his throat dry. Well... Looks like the fucking chains were catching on something.He looks up and around for the chain, then follows it up and down to see if he can see anything.
About halfway down, the chains that raise the lift have been tangled up with old ropes.
Tate: He gets down on his knee and looks over the edge at the bundled up chain. Well... Looks like you're up... He clears his throat. Get your furry little butt down there and see if you can fix it... He looks at Loki, who is also looking over the edge down at the chains. Loki makes a protesting "nip?" sound. I just tried climbing a chain! He throws his hand back towards the black chain still swinging back and forth. Right there- Remember!? I'm not fucking doing that again... Tate sits down on the metal grate and starts looking over all his cuts and scrapes. Go on... Barlowe and the other two are probably fucking dead at this point, but we can at least pretend like we're in a hurry... Loki crawls down Tate's arm and onto the chains climbing down. Despite the little ferret's dexterity he moves carefully to make sure he doesn't slip or fall. It's obvious that Loki doesn't really want to do this. You got it Loki... Just be careful... His heart is still pounding in his chest as he pulls his beanie off. He looks the hat over, and it's been cut apart in several spots, but the slight padding kept his scalp from getting cut up. ...Thanks... He holds the beanie to his chest and takes a deep breath.
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Meanwhile...
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Barlowe: He appears a few feet behind the Knight and a long thin spike of ice shoots up from the ground and into a crack in the Knight's armor, it continues through and impales him in the back. Barlowe hesitates, unsure of it'll be a killing blow.
Black Knight: The ice bursts from his chest, breaking out of the chest plate. He lets out a deep echoing grunt and heaves himself around, breaking the spike at the halfway point to look at Barlowe. The top-half is still stuck into him and he dashes to Barlowe, slashing down at him powerfully with his massive humanity-infused ultra-greatsword.
Barlowe: The purple blocks of teleportation magic quickly fall around him as the Knight turns to slash at him.
Black Knight: His sword cleaves through the normally indestructible blocks and slams down onto Barlowe, cutting him in half.
Barlowe: His top half flies to the edge of the bridge, rolling there, while his legs simply walk around for a moment before falling.
Kaali: You old fool! She has a genuine look of worry. You should've never gotten so close! She look through the bars them to the Knight.
Black Knight: He turns and looks at Kaali, his left eye shining bright from the darkness of his helm. He suddenly breaks into a sprint and swings for the portcullis, cleaving the battered bars apart.
The Knight's swing never connects with the bars. A hail of ice rains down around him, most of it going straight for his sword atm, and each shard expands, weighing the arm down and causing it to drag across the ground slowly, until it stops against the portcullis with a light tap.
Barlowe: An image of Barlowe is standing over the dying corpse of himself. This image is partially transparent, with a deep pink glow and a skull-like visage peering out of the hood. The ends of his staff have extended into a pronged crescent, and a green ball of energy floats at each end. His voice sounds echoing and ethereal. I said I would resist until my last breath... Kaali, Coty, and the Black Knight see that there's no blood pooling from his severed halves, instead there's ripples of purple portal energy around the top and bottom of each of them, keeping his two halves "attached" as best he can. I meant it, graven Knight. The astral projection swings his staff, and a blast of smoke rushes out of the energy orb at the top and slams into the Knight, exploding on impact and knocking him to the opposite edge of the bridge and over the edge.
Black Knight: As he tumbles and slides over the edge, his free hand darts up, and the claws on his gauntlet stab into the stone bridge, digging in. There's a loud grunt and the Knight pulls himself back onto the bridge with enough strength to forward-flip over the edge and slam his sword-arm down onto the stone to shatter the ice from it. He lets out a deep grunt as he looks to Barlowe's astral body.
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Meanwhile...
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Loki was able to chew through the ropes tangled around the chains, and the climb back up was a lot easier for him than the climb down. He's just gotten back to Tate, who is waiting for his familiar's return to pull the lever.
Tate: Loki leaps into his arms and he hugs the ferret tightly. Thanks Loki. Loki makes a purring sound and snuggles against Tate's jawline. After a few seconds Tate stands up and puts Loki on his shoulder. Let's see if this death trap crap shoot works no. He grabs the lever and pulls.
The lift clinks as it raises. The chains creak and the tower shakes a little, but otherwise the elevator reaches the top without issue.
Tate: He looks over at Loki. Good job you little trouble maker. He steps out onto the lift with one foot, tests it, and then steps onto it with the other. He pulls the lever on the side of the lift and it starts to go down. Maybe we'll get to the bottom, and it'll just be fucking sitting there waiting for me to grab it... And I can just pick it up... And it'll cure cancer and order me a deep dish pizza... He drums his fingers on the side of thigh as he waits for the elevator to reach the bottom. ...I miss pizza... I know we've only been away from home for a few days but... So much shit has happened... Feels like months... Loki let's out a "yip!" of agreement.
The elevator takes some time to reach the bottom, but when it finally does, Tate realizes that it leads to the watery pit that Tate could see from above. Unlike the stack of nightmarish catwalks and rotting planks that made up the initial area, this chamber is serene. The walls are built from clean blue marble, with draconic gold emblems that glow faintly. The floor is patterned light blue stone. A raised circular plaza, about thirty feet across, sits at the center, with a ring of pristine glowing water around it that's only a few inches deep. High above, the rickety iron towers rest on large stone arches that arch back and forth, and a lattice of polished silvery-gold metal.
Tate: He pulls his cut up beanie back on and looks around for a moment, before stepping off the lift. Looks nice. Nice big round room with pretty much nothing in it... Incoming boss fight... Now that I'm beat to shit already... Where's my estus anyway? Loki makes a "mewing" sound.
Sir Torien: His voice, old and gravelly, echoes out across the room. Once come upon in this ancient dark... I fought the myths of godly hearts... Myths from the otherside... That we had no place killing... The dark... As he speaks, Tate can see it coming from the far side of the room, in an alcove that looks almost like a saint's shrine, a shimmering knight in armor sits.
Tate: Sir... He whisper to himself. The fuck was his name- He yells out. Loki makes a "tor-enp"! sound, almost like he's trying to say a real word. Right, Torien- Sir Torien? Is that you? He gulps, but makes his way across the room quickly, not wanting to waste any time.
Sir Torien: ...Sir Torien... Of the First Monarch's Royal Knights of Loyce... Guardian of the vault... Prisoner of it... His head moves slightly. He's clad head to toe in perfectly clean armor that reflects with an unnatural gleam in the dim light. ...A solemn depth in your skin... The mouth of a void from within... Resting beneath the waves of your soul... Has the Sun graced me with its light? ...Has the First Monarch shown me mercy? ...Have you come to take my vigil... Resting beside him is a huge polished pollaxe that shines with the same unnatural reflection of light. The actual blade of the axe looks like a huge key.
Tate: He speeds up as he notices the pollaxe, quickly crossing the room and nearing the shrine. I... I've come to relieve you, to take your burden! He slows down as he get within ten feet of the knight. To take the Eochair... He looks to the pollaxe as he comes to a stop, silently hoping that the knight doesn't get up and attempt to kill him, though he's expecting it.
Sir Torien: ...Chasm Knight... Sent to me on holy negative light... So that I might finally pass unto the light of the Sun's and into the songs of my brethren... He lets out a long sigh of relief.
Anestette: No, glorious knight. This lost child is not destined to take your holy purpose... Tis only a quivering moth... Misguided by a Fire Keeper's flame... Avert thine eyes... For I will snuff out these dark-sodden cinders...
Sir Torien: He lets out a quiet wail of despair, and looks down, covering his helmet with his hands. How much a fool I've become... To be mislead... By the flames of a Keeper... Blessings upon you, Lady Anestette... Your light has never lead me from my sacred station... A wall of dark fog rises up in front of the alcove.
Tate: He whispers to himself, glaring at the Eochair. It was right fucking there! He turns around an glares at Anestette. You're a stupid fucking cunt you know what!?
Anestette: She's slowly walking towards him. A pale blue portal behind her snaps shut with a quiet "pop". I gave thee chance of safe passage. In her left hand is a silver sword, inscribed with golden inlay. I forewarned you of the dangers within the sanctum, and prescribed that thee sweep all thought of the holy blade from thy mine... I know not the missteps that lead thee here, but know that I will not entertain your notions of robbing the Holy Knight of his station. Her sword turns pitch-black and she thrusts it forwards in a lighting-quick motion, fast as the blink of an eye. A thin black beam sings forth and hits Tate's chest, right where his heart is, pushing him back a bit like it's a slight blunt impact instead of a cutting beam as the darkness "reflects" off of his clothing and hits the wall. His Pilgrim's Vestments resisting the dark of Anestette's magic. ...Truly a Pilgrim of the Abyss... She spins her sword in her hand, which is still stained with darkness. Then let us test the dark within us, against itself...
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Meanwhile...
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Black Knight: He turns pitch black and dashes towards Barlowe, shimmering white sparks of energy rippling off of his frame as he swings his weapon down onto both Barlowe's astral form and his physical upper-half.
Barlowe: As he dashes forwards the ice still stuck in the Black Knight's chest expands and freezes him solid. Even though Barlowe knows that won't work, he uses the hit-stop to teleport for him and his halves across the bridge.
Black Knight: He pauses, and then the ice bursts off from around him. He turns to look at Barlowe as the darkness fades. The huge hole in his chest doesn't even bleed, yet Kaali and Coty can see straight through. His eyes glows for a moment, then he turns and slams his huge sword into the portcutlis, slashing through several of the already cut up bars.
Kaali: She grabs her broken sword and raises it up to fight, if only to buy a few more seconds time. Come on then Sovereign Knight! Do your duty!
Black Knight: He thrusts his sword forwards into Kaali. She attempts to deflect, but fails. For whatever reason, in all previous engagements, the Sovereign Knight had no intention of killing her, which is the only reason she could fight him as well as she could. This this strike is a strike to kill, and his massive blade slices through what's left of her short sword and goes directly into her heart.
A spine of ice darts up into the Knight's sword arm, stopping the thrust a few inches from Kaali's chest. When he flipped back onto the bridge earlier and shattered the ice from it, all the armor had been made all the more brittle by the linger effect of Barlowe's curse, enough so that diamond-hard ice could easily pierce it. The ice holds the Knight's arm in place.
Barlowe: We aren't done yet! He raises his staff, and a ringing sound fills the cavern as shards of ice rain down upon the knight and the portcullis freezing it over with a wall of ice. A swath of grey smoke immediately forms from the ice, that explodes with a loud ringing "clang", launches the Knight back across the bridge, ripping his sword-arm clean off as it remains stuck in the wall of ice.
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Meanwhile...
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Tate: He grabs at his chest, then narrows his eyes and looks to the glowing water, immediately pulling a huge orb of the glowing liquid up in front of him with his catalyst. Dumb luck that there's a ton of water down here I guess huh? He fires five blasts of water at the woman, then releases a stream of Brine at her to test how well she deals with his simple magic.
Anestette: She swings her shortsword up into a flurry of quick flourishes, deflecting the first four blasts of water, however doing so is clearly difficult for her and the fifth blast slams into her, knocking her back slightly, however she recovers and seems to "slide" quickly over the ground, causing the Brine to miss completely. Before Tate can sweep the Brine to hit her, she thrusts her sword forwards several times, striking him with three quick beams of dark that bounce off of him and hit random surfaces around the room. Each strike hardly hurts him, but if he's struck enough they will quickly beat him to death, as he's already injured.
Tate: As each strike lands he nearly drops the large mass of water. Stop! His chakram floats from his hand and into the center of the mass of water. It glows bright blue and spirals around the chakram. That's fucking annoying! The water collapses into the chakram and then suddenly explodes in a shotgun spread of twenty water blasts aimed in Anestette's direction.
Anestette: She slides to the side and parries a few of them, but about six blasts slam directly into her and send her sliding and stumbling backwards, stunning her for a moment.
Tate: He throws his chakram, and it collapses into the spinning sawblade formation as it flies towards her. You're up Loki! The Familiar jumps from Tate's shoulder and Tate pulls a torrent of water from the ring around the arena and splashes it all over the ferret. Loki immediately grows to a small otter. Let's fuck her up! Loki quickly scurries across the ground towards her. The chakram tears across her collarbone and Loki jumps around her and then leaps up onto her back, raking her with his claws and biting at her.
Anestette: As the chakram slices across her upper chest she lets out a high-pitch cry, the makes a labored growl that sounds almost animalistic, and grabs Loki by the scruff, pulling him from her back and flipping him over her shoulder and slamming him into the ground. She immediately thrusts her sword towards the familiar and a cutting beam of darkness tears through the edge of Loki's hide, slicing him open. She repeats the action a dozen more times, taking a step forward with each thrust as if to drive each beam to hit its mark, her intent to kill the mystic animal.
Loki: He cries out with a squeaky growl when the first beam hits him, a few drops of blood spurting from his side. He then immediately rolls around and leaps from the path of each subsequent attack, jumping around chaotically to dodge each of them.
Tate: His eyes fill with worry and rage when Loki gets thrown onto the ground and then cut across his side. LOKI! The water that circles the arena trembles, and he snatches his chakram out of the air as it returns to him. You fucking BITCH! His chakram floats in front of him and glows with blue-green energy as he reaches back and pulls water up onto his arms. His chakram releases another beam of Brine from its center that races towards Anestette.
Anestette: She again slides from the path of the beam, sliding forwards towards Loki as he jumps around. As her slide finishes she whips her sword down and slices into the familiar's flesh with an inhumanly quick motion that even Loki can't evade. The attack cuts deeply into the otter's flesh, almost as if her weapon were meant to slice deep into animal hides.
Tate: Loki screams a loud howl of pain and spams, rolling away as blood starts to pool from him. NO! He flickers and appears closer to Anestette, then instantly flickers again, appearing practically on top of her and slamming his water-wreathed fist into her chest. It explodes in a barrage of five water blasts that launches her away from Loki and sends her flying backwards. As Anestette begins to recover, he closes his eyes, and several voices sound in his head:
Morganstern: [...feel the mana flow through your body and into your hands... Visualize it... Like water...]
Tate: The water around his arms ripples and begins to glow with light-purple energy. My dark is gonna fuck yours up. He opens his eyes and fires a barrage of water bolts from his water-wreathed arms like a machine gun.
Anestette: She recovers just as Tate launches his second volley of bolts. She flashes red and vanishes, leaving behind a crimson outline, reappearing to the right. She then slides to the side and does it again, leaving another crimson outline. She reappears to Tate's side thrusting her sword into his side.
Tate: The teleporting surprises him, but he Flickers, knowing she was going to go on the offensive to slash at him like she did with Loki. However the water that was on his hands doesn't flicker with him, and simply explodes in a shockwave of water that launches her away. He appears throwing his chakram at her and it turns into a saw blade as it slices through her, bouncing off, turning in the air behind her and slicing her again on the way back.
Anestette: She genuinely didn't expect Tate's counter-flicker, and the explosion staggers her long enough for both of the Chakram hits to land. They cut deeply and she screams another animalistic scream. This one is loud enough that it echoes through the entire arena. I will keep what can't be kept! Blood explodes from her wounds, and she drops her sword. She hunches over and makes a howling scream that's so loud it forces Tate to close his eyes and cover his ears. The walls vibrate as her limbs twist and wrap, extending and enlarging. Long black claws burst from her silk gloves, and her once clean and well-kept attire tears and rips as her body enlarges and distorts. She grabs her silver casque helmet and rips it off. Her raven-black hair falls around her face, growing longer and more unkempt, a pair of pale yellow eyes glares at Tate as a dog-like snout forms from her mouth. She screams again and breaks into a run on all fours towards Tate, knocking her sword away.
Tate: As he opens his eyes and sees her finish her transformation they go wide for a moment before his expression transforms to anger, immediately remembering what she did to Loki. He leaps from her path at the last moment, rolling away and onto his feet. Fucking monster is easier to kill than a person anyway! He runs away, circling around and throwing his chakram, it turns into a saw blade that slices deep into the monster's hide.
Anestette: She roars as the chakram digs into her, but it doesn't bounce off like before, her hide is too think now, it instead sticks there. She turns and glares at Tate with her beastly glowing eyes. She rears back and then leaps into the air with loud scream, falling down towards Tate.
Tate: He runs to the side and then jumps, burning some mana to Flicker mid-jump and appear safely from the creature's path. He rolls over the ground and grabs Anestette's sword. He thrusts it forward like she does, but nothing happens. Fuck! He looks at the sword then back to the monster.
Anestette: She eyes Loki, sniffing the blood from the familiar. She lets out a deep growl and breaks into a run towards the small, injured, otter, her mouth open and leaving a trail of bloody drool everywhere as she crawls across the room.
Tate: Loki has been laying in the water, which has helped heal him a bit, but he's still bleeding. When the little otter sees the massive beast running for him he leaps out of the water and runs across the slippery floor, moving as fast as he can. Tate grips the sword tightly. Leave him alone! He sprints towards the monster as Loki distracts it, and burns a bit more mana to Flicker to Anestette. He appears plunging her own blade into her side.
Anestette: She shrieks in agony, the sword piercing deep into her body, cutting into her thick hide easily. She leaps away from Tate, and slams into the wall, sliding down and splashing into the water. The wound sprays blood profusely as she struggles to get up. She roars and a blast of blood-tinged air bursts from her mouth and collides with Tate, the small cuts all over Tate spurt with blood as the roar seems to open them a little bit. The force of the impact also launches him away from her.
Tate: He flies through the air and then slams onto the ground, sliding over the wet stone a few feet and leaving red streaks of blood on the stone. He takes a deep breath and bites his lips, feeling the piercings below his bottom lip with his front teeth. I hate this... He slowly gets up, blood running down his face. He watches Loki swimming through the water, getting away from Anestette. He looks worn down, this entire day draining him. This is so... He closes his eyes as Anestette recovers, and again his aching mind wanders to what others have said to him:
Barlowe: [...My feelings tell me that within you lay a great well of dark...]
Nephalias: [There are such fathomless depths within you... A piceous deep, below the placid rippling for your soul.]
Tate: Fucking FUCKED! Darkness ripples off of him and he opens his eyes, which are pitch black with tiny stars of light. He thrusts Anestette's sword forward and a pitch-black beam shoots forth and pierces deep into her neck. STOP- He thrusts it again and another beam pierces into her snout. FUCKING- A third beam goes through her right eye. LIVING! A final beam rips through her head, splitting her mutant skull open.
Anestette: She roars and shrieks with each piercing beam, and then her roar immediately cuts off as the final beam splits her head open. Her body goes slack and she slides down the wall, resting against it as she dies. A barrage of white wisps of light race outwards and towards Tate, forming into a smoke crimson soul that hovers in front of him for a moment, before it sinks into his chest.
The dark fogwall in front of the knight vanishes.
Tate: He takes a deep breath, his eyes returning to normal. The sudden silence feeling strange. He looks over to Loki and quickly runs over to him. He wraps his arms around Loki and hugs him. I'm sorry Loki, I didn't think she'd be fast enough to actually hit you. Loki makes a purring sound and rubs his head against Tate's chest. The water has healed the familiar's wounds well enough that he won't be bleeding to death, but he's still too injured to have participated in the fight anymore. Tate picks Loki up, and the familiar shrinks back down to the size of a Ferret. Let's get that weapon and get the fuck out of here... The walk back is gonna be shit. He starts quickly hobbling over to the knight, closing the distance. As he reaches the Knight he stands up strait, trying to make himself look tall and unhurt, and speaks in as intimidating and stern voice as he can. Are you gonna give me that weapon or not?
Sir Torien: He lowers his hands, looking up to Tate. ...Where is Lady Anestette? My guiding light...?
Tate: That monster ate her. He nods to the beastly corpse.
Sir Torien: Then you avenged her..? He looks to the beast, then to Tate.
Tate: I did. He narrows his eyes at the Knight, then wipes blood from his forehead, as it's starting to get into his eyes.
Sir Torien: ...Then you are fit to take my station... Young Knight... May the First Monarch show you mercy... As he has me... He lets out a quiet sigh and goes slack, his armor tumbles apart, revealing that there's nothing inside. The Eochair falls fowards and clatters loudly to the floor.
Tate: He gasps, half expecting the knight to duel him. Thank you God... He walks back to Anestette's corpse and looks it over, expecting it to be dead since the fog wall dropped, but he's still hesitant. He grabs her and turns her over, ripping his chakram from her back. Her looks at the sword, then the chakram, then to the huge Eochair. Loot two weapons and I don't have the shit to carry them with... He sighs and walks over to the Eochair, he hooks his chakram onto his belt and drops Anestette's sword. He grabs onto the huge heavy pollaxe and heaves it up a few inches before letting it drop. Fuck that's heavy. He looks back across the room at the elevator and pouts.
As Tate grabs onto the Eochair, the sounds of a lock opening is heard, and the Shrine begins to ascend like an elevator, going up and up until it stops in a small room. The the door to the room opens, revealing the first hall, full of polished mirror doors where he first met Anestette earlier. The slab-door is just to the right.
Tate: A short cut! He groans as he drags the huge weapon over the ground behind him. It sparks as it slices grooves into the polished marble. As he reaches the slab he heaves it forwards. This better fucking work Kaali. He takes a breath heaves it again pressing it against the slab.
The slab trembles, and then quickly raises up into the ceiling.
Coty: He looks from the fight beyond the portcullis. Tate!? Holy fuck he made it!
Kaali: The Eochair! She runs up and grabs the weapon from him, pulling it from his weak grasp easily. Despite the weapon's size and weight, she swings it onto her uninjured shoulder and turns, running out onto the bridge. Sovereign Knight!?
Black Knight: He spins and manifests a black long-blade of humanity that slashes through Barlowe's Astral body. The loss of his massive weapon has made him much lighter on his feet and he's consistently evaded almost every attack since Barlowe ripped his right arm off.
Barlowe: Both his astral and physical body let out a deep yell of pain, though his extremely high resistant to magic keeps the Knight's strikes from killing him outright.
Black Knight: He raises his hand to strike Barlowe again, but suddenly leaps from the spot. Kaali slamming the Eochair down where he was.
Barlowe: Be gone wicked knight! As he lands from his leap a huge spike of ice slams into the Knight, impaling him up from the ground. Kaali's attack giving him the space and moment he need to land a spell. A hail of shards quickly falls down onto the Knight, almost immediately encasing him in a heavy block of ice. The huge spine, unable to maintain the weight, breaks and the block falls and crashes onto the bridge, the hail of ice still hitting it, slowly pushing it to the edge until the huge block, with the Knight encased inside, slides off and into the depths of the bottomless dark below. Barlowe lets out a gasp and his astral form immediately fades.
Kaali: She looks to the old man. You fought well, Ahrim Barlowe. She spins the Eochair and stabs it into the stone bridge. She kneels down and looks at him. Infinitely tenacious in your ability, for I've never seen or heard tale of one felling a Sovereign Knight.
Barlowe: His breathing is quickly getting shallow. Whatever spell he used to maintain his power has long run its course, and the portal magic keeping his halves together is quickly failing. Even his green robes have vanished and his staff has return to the shape of his mundane cane, its power completely spent. ...T... T-Tate?
Coty: He pulls Tate's arm around him and helps him across the bridge to Barlowe.
Tate: As they reach him, Tate stumbles forwards and lands next to Barlow on his hands and knees. I went through hell, and I get back and you're dying? He looks Barlowe up and down.
Barlowe: I've been... Dead for a very long time... My son... This passed day... I've felt... Alive... He smiles, a bit of blood running from his lips and down the side of his face.
Tate: I only met you last night, but I feel like... It's been a lot longer... He wipes blood from his face. You're the only person that ever really helped me learn how to use my powers... I would've never got that stupid oversized key without you. He smiles.
Barlowe: He reaches up an pats Tate's shoulder. Ten thousand students... I've trained... But I am most glad to have trained you... Young Tate... His face turns pale and blood starts to pool from the bottom of his torso. ...Do not mourn the passing of an old man... You've only just met. He wheezes one last time, and his eyes close, his hand falls from Tate's shoulder.