Sura looked confused. "If you bring up my past in an attempt of some sort, you have failed. My memories are shakey at best of the old days." Sura grew impatient. He was being tied up on both fronts - his realm and here. This was not going well. He had one option.

Sura

"Hrrrm," said Hierophastus, his eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it is the truth. Perhaps old Sura Al'Amun of the Silent Desert has lost his scorpion's sting. Do you still believe yourself the worthy Lord of Tushmuthut? Your strength of will and," he smiled, "relative honesty has impressed me. We could use sorcerers like you in the Sphere of Force and Fire. Of course, regardless of your intent you will need to take the Invocations.. without them, you are nothing to us. You hold no right. No right, Sura."

Pitcarn

The sun above was very hot and fierce. Somehow Pitcarn had begun to sweat before his appearance in Tushmuthut, and now he was drenched in his own juices. Even in the shade it was much too hot. He was standing beneath the shattered rubble of two far-reaching spires, made of white stone and shattered by some unseen cataclysm. They collapsed together, forming a small, narrow cave, otherwise surrounded by kilometers of broken masonry. Behind the spires was the never-ending sand; ahead, much further ahead, the remains of a tiny city - Tushmuthut proper. Pitcarn vaguely saw shadowy forms marching far in the distance. Rubble surrounded him, a wasteland of damaged stone.

Pitcarn began to make his way towards to city proper, traveling as fast as possible, while still trying not to make too much noise, and remain a little stealthy.

Sura let out an apparent laugh at the thought of impressing Hierophastus. "I am no Lord of Tushmuthut. Osiris-Ra has that claim. I only strive to be reagent of this great city." Sura thought back to the defenses of Tushmuthut, he was wasting time. He turns to Hierophastus, "Tell me, what can you offer to the security of Tushmuthut? We must prepare it for an attack."

Sura

"I have learned word, as I mentioned, of possible Conclave invasion," said Hierophastus. "Strategically, it makes sense. The Conclave might be the pioneers of cutting-edge scientific technology, but when it comes to weapons of mass destruction.." He smiled. "I have brought the utter culmination of everything the Temple of the Razor within the Sphere of Force and Fire has worked towards. Our own technology. A weapon capable of leveling entire armies. I call it.. the Eye of Ra."

Hierophastus gestured to one of his men, one of a handful standing inconspicuously in black robes within the distance, and he carried a large golden chest towards his master. The chest was bound in protective seals, inscribed with sacred invocations to the sun, branded with the mark of Osiris-Ra. It was chained and locked and chained again.

"I can contribute up to a thousand men, in addition," said Hierophastus. "But I cannot accept you as Regent of Tushmuthut until you take the Invocations of the Sun as proper."

Pitcarn the Sneaky

Pitcarn soon came unnoticed to the edge of the deeper ruins of Tushmuthut. There, shattered monuments lay resting within spoiled fountains, obelisks were crushed, solid white stone scattered everywhere. Pitcarn saw three Cultists patrolling along one of the surviving - yet probably structurally unsound - balconies deeper within the battered city. They were the only presence he saw, besides the troops training to the far east.

Not five hundred meters ahead of him he saw the surviving city, surrounded by a small wall that had been smeared with the black hands of Osiris-Ra. They were ominous, somehow.

"No superweapons until its the last resort... unless it has no effect on the realm or city?" Sura was curious about the super weapon. "And i don't need you to accept me as regent. I need you to defend our Lords sacred city."

Feeling foolish for having just paradoxed it away, Pitcarn again finds his diamond rifle, and aiming carefully, sends a volley towards the three patrolling cultists. He aims not for them, but for whatever supports the balcony they stand on, hoping that their death will look like an accident.

Not looking to see the results, Pitcarn made a quick, hopefully silent dash to the wall, looking for a crack, about the size of a fist. He paradoxes the 3 Grenades he received from the Chalybis struggle, in case he can blast a hole.

Simultaneously, he looks for anywhere he might be able to climb or jump over. The blast may simply act as a distraction.
Sadly, he feels, sneak may soon have to be exchanged for force. Time is running out elsewhere.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:07, Wed 21 July 2010.

Sura

"No affect on either," said Hierophastus. "It was designed by Ra himself, before the melding. Only now, a thousand and something years later, have we received the technology to build it and make his eye manifest. It is a strange, mechanical object, to be worn in the eye socket. It allows hyper-divination in the present sense as well as for the user to manipulate the sun's deadliest rays - lasers, some would say. I have brought it as a gift to your efforts."

He frowned.

"And I said I would defend the city," he said. "Not in person, of course, but a thousand of my best men are yours."

Pitcarn

Pitcarn, despite never using a diamond rifle before, is incredibly proficient with it. A hail of diamond-splinters, the crackle of the nanobots, and the crash of the balcony proceed. All three of the Cultists scream as they fall to their deaths, crushed as they were by the whitest stone. There is yelling in the distance, further within the city.

By that stage Pitcarn has found the wall, but there are no walls within. It is incredibly smooth, perfect craftsmanship, perhaps designed by the Dread Lord himself.

He could not jump the tall wall, but perhaps he could fight his way through one of the four cardinal gates that dot the Third Boundary of Tushmuthut.

Quietly, Pitcarn questions the SUIT: "SUIT, unless you can grant me temporary flight enough to get over this wall, find me the direction of the closest gate into Tushmuthut."

After hearing the result, Pitcarn begins to run, staying as close as he can to the wall without touching it to try and avoid detection, ande stopping once he comes within sight of the defensive towers beside the gate.

Sura

(repeat)

"No affect on either," said Hierophastus. "It was designed by Ra himself, before the melding. Only now, a thousand and something years later, have we received the technology to build it and make his eye manifest. It is a strange, mechanical object, to be worn in the eye socket. It allows hyper-divination in the present sense as well as for the user to manipulate the sun's deadliest rays - lasers, some would say. I have brought it as a gift to your efforts."

He frowned.

"And I said I would defend the city," he said. "Not in person, of course, but a thousand of my best men are yours."

Pitcarn

Accessing mapworks..
Gates at 3.45, 6.7, 9.1 and 0.0.

Pitcarn understood exactly where the four gates are. His vision was augmented with a minimalistic map of the Inner City of Tushmuthut with the four cardinal gates. He knew he was closest to the west gate. He is very close to the entrance, however, when four guards assault from the cluttered wreckage of the side.

The first swings his curved Scimitar of the Sun at Pitcarn's head, while the second attempts to assault him with a poisoned blade at the rear. One is running for assistance towards the gate, yelling that he'd found Pitcarn, and the other is back within the wreckage, twenty meters away, muttering incoherently and reading from an ancient, faded scroll.

Dodging the blades, Pitcarn ignored the fleeing cultist and sent a volley from his rifle towards the chanting wannabe mage.

He drew one of his vibroblades, and faced the attackers, hoping to keep moving around them and ensure that only one could physically fight him at a time.

Using the Vibroblade to ensure that the cultists stayed out of arms reach, he fired the diamond rifle from the hip, hoping to cut down the followers of Osiris-Ra with out being too close.

"Quite a powerful weapon in deed. No doubt it will play a key part in this battle." Sura kept his thoughts on Hierophastus not staying personally to himself, he knew it was not wise to push the issue. "With your contribution, our chances have significantly increased." Sura looked out towards the city which he loved so much. "I will not see it fall so easily."

Sura

"No," said Hierophastus. "Neither would I. I am afraid.. it is time for me to leave. The men will arrive ready for battle shortly enough. Will you be keeping the Eye of Ra? Simply place the orb within your own eye-socket and it will do the rest.."

He smiled pleasantly and manically towards Sura. "And Sura," he said. "You might want to remember that he who tries to survive within Tushmuthut, but has not taken the Invocations of the Sun, is doomed to failure. There is a certain sentiment that you are scared to take the Invocations - that it is fear that stays you. I cannot say myself what it is, but know that if ever you find the Scepter.. it will kill you immediately if you are not worthy. You need to Invoke, friend, and quickly. Before it is too late."

Pitcarn

Pitcarn felt the first blade pass close by to him as he dodged the second one, and was satisfied to see the sorcerer fall down in a hail of gunfire. The second and third cultist fell easily after that. Pitcarn saw a dark mass of people ready themselves at the gates - and yelling from above the wall. Yelling in the distance, behind him, too. He didn't have much time to make a move, or to adapt his strategy if he needed to.

"Yes. I will have to renew my vowels of course.. If i survive this. Farewell then, Hierophastus. No doubt you will hear the result of the coming battle." He then turned and looked for Khor.

Pitcarn charged towards the gate, but instead of attacking the cultists in an honourable fashion, Pitcarn pulled one of his Conclave issued grenades from his robes, and (provided that the cultists have assembled outside or in the gateway) throws the grenade at the mass when he feels that he is close enough to do the most damage. After ducking into cover for a moment during the blast, Pitcarn covers his own advance on the gate with the Diamond Rifle as he runs towards the gates, praying that they do not close before he gets there.

Sura

Khor had gone.

Sura noticed - rather, heard - a commotion at the western gate. An intruder, perhaps =- this wasn't unusual. There was the scraping of metal blades and the yells of the faithful. Sura knew that Khor would be with them.

He heard a large blast near the western gate - possibly a grenade. Surely the Conclave couldn't have rallied already.. ?

Pitcarn

Pitcarn threw the grenade, and saw the robed cultists scatter in organized fear. The blast shook the gate, chipping stone, but only one cultist was killed - though three or four were wounded. It was as Pitcarn was firing and finishing off several of the slower enemies that he was attacked by a large black figure from above, throwing him to the sand and cackling like a madman. He held his murderous grip on Pitcarn's neck, a vicious ceremonial blade - tinged with red - in his teeth and a manic glint in his eyes. He wore all black, and was incredibly heavy. Pitcarn felt the grip tighten as they hit the sand, with the attacker on top of Pitcarn..

Sura quickly rose into the air, sand flowing all around him. He quickly flew over to the fighting. He hoped that it was not the Conclave... Tushmuthut is far from ready.

Fear gripped Pitcarn, but also a flash of clarity. He knew a path from this.

He punched the relatively unprotected underarms of the god, then, as he lost some of his tension, Pitcarn slipped his wrists inside the god's elbows, pulling the head of the unidentified divine towards him.

Pitcarn felt that the divine would only use the position to leer and gloat as an egotistical Cultist, and squeeze tighter in his neck.

As the weight dropped on his body, Pitcarn grabbed both his grenades and with one in each hand pulled the pins with his teeth and wrapped his arms around the divine's neck.

Sura and Pitcarn Awesome Team

Sura rose in a gush of sand and saw the burnt corner of the western gate, surrounded by broken stone - the work of a grenade or similar explosive. There were Cultists scattered nearby, but it was not clear where the enemy was..

--

Pitcarn felt the grip tighten around his neck. The maddened Cultist began to cackle loudly, manically, even through his teeth. as Pitcarn punched the first underarm, he felt it snap back, half of the grip gone. Before he could attack the second arm, however, the Cultist's fist returned to smash Pitcarn against the cheek. He felt himself be crushed towards the sand. He still managed to get his arms behind the lunatic Cultist, however, and managed to spring the two grenades..

There were several seconds of struggling as the Cultist attempted to reach for the blade at his teeth..

A strike, strangling, sand in eyes and ears and mouth..

White light and a deafening roar.

Pitcarn felt his life fall from him, felt the paradoxes in the other realms waver and remain, felt himself gain power even as he met death for the first time..

--

Sura immediately heard the second blast; it was farther down the eastern side of the wall. Who could.. ?

Sura rushed to the second explosion. He had his fears..

with his death, Pitcarn's manifestation here vanished

Sura

The sand about Khor of the Knife was blackened and twisted by the force of the explosion. Pieces of shrapnel along with disembodied, charred limbs surrounded him. His own robe had been destroyed in the blast, and thus he was nude save for tattoos and the murder knife in his teeth. His torso was covered in blood and black ash. Hot pieces of twisted metal had been embedded painfully in his flesh and he was groaning in soft agony when Sura reached him. The enemy had been killed in whatever blast had occurred.

His eyes were afire with some unseen madness. The murder knife itself was cracked, dark red, almost broken. It had taken most of the blast.

The Cultists watched on from a distance. They were fearful, reluctant, curious.

"Murder.." cried Khor softly, reaching out for Sura. "I need.. murder.."

Sura became concerned. Khor is a danger to all cultists and himself. He acted quickly and rushed down to the remnants of his foe. He quickly divined, hoping to for a name and location of the person who attacked. It was his plan to send Khor to this persons realm to achieve his murder.

The magic came with a little difficulty. Such a simple divination was hampered by the unstable vacuum of the Urge.. which Sura felt changing. A crash would come soon. Magic would rip through the sky. It would return..

Nevertheless, a name: Pitcarn.

A Realm: Bilbligh, and directions were given.

"Murder!" screamed Khor to the heavens, lashing out at one of the Cultists stupid enough to approach him, to tend to him. He slit the throat of the stupid cultist, drinking the blood as it poured, and still screamed his rage. "Murder!"

Yes, Khor of the Murder Knife was very cross.

Sura quickly span around to Khor and opened a portal to Bilbligh. "The one who attacked you is beyond this portal Khor! Head there to sate your hunger!"