Dorian takes the lead to speak to the Archon.  A small part of Cyan's mind, struggling for control, notes this to be a good idea - better him than her, on the edge of fury.  The bard takes a faltering step back, allowing the sorcerer free reign to speak with the danioti, and turns to regard the battling hoop of water.  "Lexy?" she whispers, glancing to Berd.  Then she nods.  "Yes."

Still wary of the danioti, Berd turns burning eyes upon the distant water-being.

Dorian squints only slightly in the spray of sand and gravel, unwilling to react to the display. Beside him, Galatea grins. Danioti do not slow down when they attack; and his daughter had sense no harmful intent. It had been a risky action to leave his defenses down, but he doubted they would have mattered. In the moments before it stopped, he would have either destroyed or been destroyed. He would have destroyed, had he not been confident of a peaceful approach.

He lowers his hands. "No," he says, "we are not of this world, but we have come to protect this world. We seek friends who made their way to this world, and we seek to defend this world against any who would harm it or its inhabitants. Who are you and why are you here?"

"Yeah," Chance says. "She's not the same person, not really. She's not the general. When she led his army, she was under duress. Her mind was shaped by ... horrible influence. You can trust her now."

Trgiaob continues to spin for a moment, and then moves back a little before flipping over until it is rotating in a horizontal plane.  It descends, until it is laying on the ground, and then rises, suddenly, to a height of ten feet or so.

Trista and Chance are standing where the Archon had been, surrounded by a ring of disturbed mud, sand, and shingle.

From high overhead, there is a sound like a great bell cracking, and hundreds of metal shards rain down from the sky, plunging into the lake and sending gouts of water skywards.  What's left of the broken Archon falls, encased in a sheath of ice, and lands close to the shore...

One down, two to go.

ämi takes flight as Trista appears and wings to the woman's shoulder. Landing there the little bird begins a barrage of whistles and squawks and pecking at Trista's cheek.

The demonic creature's head tilts to one side and Devlin can definitely be seen in that expression and in the eyes. It looks over Trista, and appearing satisfied, turns its attention back to the battle over the lake.

That is when one of the metallic, bladed archon comes crashing to the ground in pieces. In a deep, guttural voice he says, "Whatever that is does not seem to need our help"

Berd puts on his thousand-dagger grin as one of the Archons falls, and his eyes continue to burn, slowly growing more and more bright.

When it becomes apparant Trgiaob presents no danger - at present - Cyan sheaths her blade, eyes continuing to darken toward ruby.  When Trgiaob begins 'offloading', the twisted smile on her face lightens, relaxes, and she nods; many a time has she availed of identical transportation with either Left or Right.  Indeed, Right used to carry her sword in such a fashion, much more safe than a sheath.  As Trista and Chance materialize, she mutters a reply to Devlin.  "That fight is finished."  But a small laugh escapes her at sight of ämi's almost offended reaction, his scolding greeting of the wandering woman.

"And you?" she inquires, with a quick glance to Berd.  The drake turns from the battle to give the bird a disdainful glance - liberally spiced with a touch of jealousy - and settles down to wait to greet his friend.  Another laugh from Cyan, and she scratches his head.  "Egotist."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:01, Thu 30 Oct 2008.

Chance's faceplate snaps up with a click. The helmet then folds into itself several times, with tiny interlocking pieces snapping free and sliding under and around other pieces, until the helmet is gone. "Somehow," he says. "I think I know how the rabbit feels now."

He grins wide at the others, seeing that he is once again among friends, and at least one battle seems resolved.

Dorian holds his gaze steady as Trista and Chance appear, confident that no attack will come, but wary in case one does: a familiar state for him.

He tiny smirk plays across his lips as he looks from Trista to ämi, and then back again. "It seems," he says. "That the little bird is more capable than the warrior guessed. It is good to see you again."

The ghostly girl tilts her head, knitting her brow together in a confused frown. "Rabbit?"

Several sensations strike Trista as the world replaces their cocoon of safe nothingness. The configuration of their friends' proves the most alarming. A little girl replaces the ghostly figure and where Devlin once stood, now resides a dark creature of sharp angles and hard surfaces. Trista grips her knife harder, ready to spring it up to life, but she's not impulsive and logic prevails: the group seems to accept this creature who has swallowed up Devlin.

The creature looks her over, his head tilted in a familiar fashion. Their eyes meet and Trista frowns dubiously. Devlin?

The little bird lands on her shoulder and after a moment, she grins, loosening her grip on the weapon. She's satisfied the creature is Devlin. Her eyes slip to the little bird sideways, “Hello.”


Finally, her eyes to Cyan and she quirks a smile and a nod a the woman before she gives her attention to the dragon sitting on her shoulder. Warmth suffuses her eyes, “It's good to see all of you.” Her eyes take in the sorcerer and the little girl, including them in the greeting.


Armor pivots and slides away to reveal Chance's grinning visage again and Trista arches a brow. “You've got a story to tell the little girl about rabbits, I think. When we're not standing in front of archons, perhaps.”

“This,” she indicates the archon above them, “is Trgiaob,” she didn't hear their exchange earlier or she'd know it already introduced itself, “he helped us get a little girl to safety.” Turning to the gentle archon, she nods her head, “Thank you.”

The new Devlin pulls her attention to the newly fallen creature, but there are two more. Perhaps more on the way. The water archon looks to be in control, but for how long? “That is Lexy or at least a version of her,” she glances at the bard, “her version of Cyan was male.” Her eyes go back out to the furthering battle, assessing the situation. “The archons have targeted this world. Or this area... the worlds bleed into one another here.

She turns her entire body toward the water creature, her eyes focused. Standing by while someone else fights doesn't sit well with the woman.

Trgiaob, starts to rise, spinning faster now.  + WE GO TO ASSIST IN THE PROTECTION OF THIS PLACE.  WE CAN NOT PERMIT ANY OF THE SERAPHIM TO ESCAPE.  IF THEY WERE TO REPORT OUR PRESENCE HERE, WE WOULD BE HUNTED AND DESTROYED. +

And then it is gone, flashing skyward.

Up to were the battle rages on among the lower clouds.  The Archon slams into one of the Seraphim, and the sound of clashing blades from that collision is louder than the thunder, while the sparks from the impact of metal upon metal are like lightning...

The other Seraphim meanwhile, has its metaphorical hands full fighting against the wheel of water, which seems to have very precise control over the elements here.

And something else too.

A tentacle rises from the lake, followed by another two, anbd then still more, until over a dozen are reaching towards the ongoing battle.  At the base of the tentacles, a massive body starts to push up from the lake, as torrents of water flow from its black scaled hide.

Dorian's smile fades just slightly as the tentacles erupt from the water. His eyes narrow. He has seen massive creatures before. After all, the original Dorian is buried under the eyelid of a creature with eyes the size of planets. This is an insect in comparison. The tentacles look organic enough, which means there must be a mind under all the mass, directing them. He launches a mental tendril out, looking for the mind, seeking its intentions. He needs to be sure of which side it is on.

"Sure," Chance says, smiling and looking down at the girl. He wants to ask who she is and why she's with these beings that smash planets like some people crack the shells of nuts, but this isn't the time. A battle rages around them.

He turns to watch it unfold, wondering what he can to help. He's not sure he can help, though.

Small beside Devlin's towering demonform, Cyan replies to Trista with a small bow, unsettling the drake (who squawks indignantly at this further insult).  She feels a stab of relief at the sight of Chance's armor's transformation, revealing the Deathsinger - a faint memory of a different transformation bubbles up, but the bard pushes it aside.  Her sapphire eyes draw back to the conflict playing out, and now both eyebrows rise at the sight of the tentacles.  "Vhuul?"  A glance to Berd.  "Not yours?  Dorian?"  But no, the sorcerer seems focused upon the creature, and his body language indicates neither mental control nor alliance.  A glance at Devlin, a double-take, then Cyan nods, raises her voice.  "Well met, Trista, Chance.  Apologies - this is Devlin."  Given the bird's presence, likely they have guessed, but it's always a good idea to clarify these things.

This sort of battle is outside of her expertise; Cyan takes several hesitant steps forward, keeping her gaze upon the wild war, until she stands close to Trista and Chance.  She bites her lip at the woman's description.  Trgiaob, a Nephillim?  Or unaligned?  And this is not the Lexy she knew, it seems.  "A reflection of me, as well?"  Berd warbles from her shoulder.  "I know, but..."  The bard shakes her head.  Male?


Cat-like, Berd delicately paces off Cyan's shoulder, stretching to step to Trista's, utterly ignoring the presence of ämi.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:45, Tue 04 Nov 2008.

Again the deep resonant voice sounds from the demon form of Devlin, "I do not like being just a spectator."

As the tentacles rise from the water they draw the creature's attention, he has seen the like of them before, deep in the earth. The tentacles of creature's he had once thought to seek out for assistance. If this one was controlled and assisting this Lexy water thing, creature, then maybe the old woman had been wrong. Maybe all the Vhuul were not completely insane... Perhaps that plan should be rethought?

The beast does not comment on Cyan's words, explaining who he is, he simply continues to watch somewhat frustrated at the fact the he has no idea what he might do to help in the battle raging above.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:13, Tue 04 Nov 2008.

ämi is unsettled by the small dragon as it climbs onto Trista's shoulder. He squawks once taking flight and flaps around the drake for a moment. The little bird's head tips back and forth as it hovers in place.

In the bird's mind there is recognition. Though it has never actually met this creature, the memory of it is there, of one of the beings that the man trusts. With another cock of the head the bird wings easily around the woman's head and lands on her other shoulder. Seeming not to be perturbed in the least by the actions of the other, ämi chirps a little song.

Then the little bird's form begins to change. ämi has never actually done this before so the process is a little slower than Devlin's. It becomes indistinct and hard to tell exactly what it is, more of a formless, smokey blob than anything in particular...
This message was last edited by the player at 18:12, Tue 04 Nov 2008.

With Trgiaob's sudden departure comes cacophony and sparks – archon against archon. It's a terrible thing to behold, this battle of metal and water above. It's outcome will decide the fate of this world. And yet, Trista feels very removed as she stands in her fragile (comparatively) skin with no advantage but her own strength and blade. Little good that will do against these creatures. What am I doing in this way?

She knows the answer: she has to do what she can, even if her abilities are child's play next to the others.

Enter a new creature into the play, one who's sheer size will take center stage. Trista's head lowers slightly, her eyes squinting in concentration. Cyan attempts to name it. Vhuul? But it means nothing to Trista. Instead the woman would label it a more familiar term: Leviathan.

A weight, small as it is, gently takes root on Trista's shoulder and the woman lifts her hand toward Berd, but halts as ämi take flight, flapping around the little dragon. Trista's eyes leave the mythical creature of the sea to watch as the black bird takes flight around Berd, flapping and chirping: studying. She grins as he lands on her other shoulder. “You  are both welcome, kinda makes me feel like home.”

Her hand continues toward Berd, a finger gently stroking below his chin as her eyes follow ämi to her other shoulder.

Her attention goes back to the magnificent creatures crowding this world. “Lexy seems to think we should leave in case she doesn't... win. I'm not really much for running.”



Startled by a shifting in her peripheral vision, Trista turns her head to take in the formless smoke sitting where ämi once perched. Do they all change? Every last one of them?

With a howl, one of the two duelling Archons falls, its blades scattering in all directions, some of them hammering into the shingle of the beach, sending pebbles spraying.  Not two feet from Devlin, a piece of driftwood suddenly seems to sprout a gleaming metal protrusion, which continues to vibrate for several seconds, like a sort of lethal tuning fork.

The majority of the creature falls in the lake, though, and the great beast out there becomes enraged as its body and tentacles are slashed by wildly spinning blades.

Suddenly the wheel of water seems to explode into a fine mist, which starts to drift downwards, falling faster as it coalesces into larger droplets, fragments of flesh, whole limbs... until, with a loud thump, A young blonde woman, naked and covered with blood, crashes into the shallow water at the lake's edge!  She curls into a ball then, hands covering her head, and screams.  One of the fallen Archon's blades juts up from her thigh...

Beyond her, the towering mass of water is collapsing, and the level in the lake starts to rise, as a great wave moves towards the shore.

Above, only two Archons remain, and they are engaged in a battle to the death.  One of them must be Trgiaob, still intent on keeping its own part in this affair hidden from Harbonah...

"None of us do," Cyan replies to Devlin, unconcerned by his demonic appearence.  Impressive, yes. Frightening for a moment.  But she has never cared so much for the exterior, and befriended more hideous apparitions.  This demon-creature is only a seeming.  "To stand and watch..."  She bites her lip, shakes her head.  "The creature is not vhuul.  The...ah...'signature' is incorrect, Berd informs me.  More of a beast, I think."

Berd, on Trista's shoulder, turns his head sharply to study ämi as the black bird circles him, hissing once in warning.  But when the bird lands and begins to sing, the drake bobs his head several times before warbling interrogatively.  But then ämi vapourizes, transforming into...what?


"Lexy!" Cyan screams, instantly breaking into a run for the fallen woman, her eyes shading toward pale topaz.  Her Lexy, not her Lexy, it matters little.

On Trista's shoulder, Berd rises up with a startlingly deep roar of fury, the air warping and shimmering above him like heat-haze.  He breathes, and a glittering mist erupts from his mouth, passing over the fallen woman and into the onrushing wave.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:30, Mon 10 Nov 2008.

Perhaps the shore isn't such a safe place as blades land around them. Only one left battling Trgiaob. Adding to Cyan's comments, Trista remarks, “Lexy calls it Leviathan. She woke it to be a distraction, but I don't think -”

Trista's words sharply end as she watches the water wheel lose shape, gain form, and drop to the ground in a bloody heap. Trista says nothing, but puts her feet in motion simultaneously with Cyan toward the woman. Her eyes scan the body, eying the protruding blade in particular. Once by her side, Trista doesn't hesitate to crouch and gather Lexy up much like a child. She's careful to keep the most pronounced wound away from her body so as not to make it worse. With the oncoming wave, priority must be given to getting Lexy out of there.

And so the woman quickly spins and heads to higher ground.

The enormous beast, far from the shore, and yet still seeming to loom over those on the land, makes a sound.  It could be, loosely, described as a roar.  Very loosely.  It seems as though the very sky itself is shattering, as waves of sound slam across the group, forcing them to struggle to stay on their feet.

Tentacles extend upwards, reaching for the fighting Archons, and pulses of sickly greenish light flow over the thing's skin.

Trista picks up Lexy, being careful to ensure that the jagged shard of metal remains in place, and is not jostled excessively by the move.  Then she turns and starts running up the slope, seeking to reach higher ground.

Behind her the wave continues to build, fed by the torrent of water and debris still falling from the sky...

A small sun blazes on her shoulder, Berd marshalling energies which extend outwards, bent by his will to perform his bidding.  One of the Archons begins to glow, its blades becoming white-hot, and its motions erratic.

The wave continues to advance, but its shape is changing, as if something is striving to push it down, and back...

"Archons aren't the tastiest things in the universe," he mumbles, still focused on the enormous beast. "We'll see if we can find you something better to eat when this is done."

Turning his attention to the archons now, he begins to speak, unlocking lynchpins.

The wind is too much for the small creature as it attempts to blow the bits of it away, so it's try fails and it quickly resumes the familiar form of a small blac bird.

Then Trista moves, picks up the injured woman and then heads away from the water. ämi quickly flies after her.

Not finding much of a way to help here, Chance decides the best he can do is turn and follow Trista. He doesn't think he can offer much in the way of medical help, but at least he can be present if something does come up.