Mistral used her magic to transport herself and the group to a place near the blockade but not so near that they would be able to see the portal. The group then made their way toward the blockade.

 Several marines raised their weapons but a command came to lower their weapons. "They're our reinforcements."

 The man who approached was rough and grizzled with grey hair cut in a high and tight. He was dressed in customary BDUs with the sleeves rolled up way too high. He had both a semi-permanent frown and a rasp to his voice, likely from yelling at people who deserved it.

 When the group approached, the man looked appraisingly at Noah. "Command said we'd be getting a dragon as reinforcements... looks like I owe Phil 50 bucks. So, who's this with you?"


OOC: Include everything you have in your inventory in your first post. If it's not here, you don't have it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:26, Mon 05 Oct 2020.

Note from the person running the monster. No orange text. ALL ooc actions. ALL rolls are to remain hidden. Your roles are to be secret. OOC that would be orange is now PM to ST.

Michael took a step forward covered in weapons and a Kevlar vest. A quiver of many arrows was strapped to his back along with a compound bow. A bandolier of throwing knives was strapped to his left leg. Several wooden stakes were strapped to his right. He carried his six foot zweihander resting on his left shoulder. His right hand carried two extra quivers of arrows. A long ancient rosary hung around his neck. “My name’s Michael, a priest of the church and a Hunter. Some of us have tangled with some of the beasts in that building before. Some are werewolves. I have information that may be of some use to you in fighting them. I can also create an invisible perimeter to help keep them back from getting within range with their teeth and claws. Don’t worry. I’m a home grown human just like you. I just happen to be able to request blessings from the Lord in my battles.” The priest took a step back for someone else to present themselves.

Fate stepped forward with her sound sapphire around her neck and her new trench coat on her back. Tucked beneath her sleeves were her vambraces yet to be drawn and held in her hand was a survival rifle for which she carried extra ammunition in the pockets of her coat. "My name is Fate. I'm a human as well. Bounty hunter by trade and I'm just lucky enough that one of those beasts happens to be my mark. Don't underestimate me, however, I do have a few tricks up my sleeves." She backs away allowing the next person forward.

Sal was wearing the custom armor made by Noah, with the mask in full coverage mode, the googles Noah gave him on his forehead, and a tactical harness loaded with Cold Iron Throwing Knives, 2 clips of 7.62 Nato ammo (16 shots,) his Generic .40 S&W (loaded with 12 shots, silver), .40 FMJ ammo  (50 more shots,) a magic gun, a Box of "Emperor's Tears" spell bullets, a Telescopic Baton, 1 extra clip each of silver pistol and rifle ammo, 5 flashbangs, and 3 tear gas grenades. On his belt were two swords: a katana, and a cold iron estoc, slightly damaged by bandersnatch poison. Hanging from a shoulder strap, his custom survival rifle, chambered to 7.62 Nato, (loaded with 10 shots, silver) hung loosely, as his right hand kept the barrel pointed toward the ground.  "Sal. I'm just here for moral support," Sal said sarcastically.

Prior to departure for the mission, Mistral offered mission-goers to stow any gear that would be useful to the mission but impractical to carry on one's person.  She demonstrated the method on a full carton of fifty 1-liter water bottles, over which she performed a gesture that caused it to refract across dimensional membranes, seeming to fold in upon itself until it vanished.  She then unfurled one of the bottles out of nothingness until she held it in her hand.

Mistral vanished into the amethyst palace to prepare for the mission, and did not reappear until five minutes before the agreed upon departure time.  She appeared in a form-fitted, black tactical catsuit with low-profile waterproof sling-pack and utility belt, plus a long knife secured in a thigh sheath.  The suit was equipped with a cloth face-mask that was presently pulled down around her neck.  Her white-and-blue hair was normally bound only loosely, but was now secured with a distinctive ribbon into a tight bun.  Mistral looked to each of the others in turn, took stock of their readiness, then said, "It is time."  With a circular sweep of the hand she opened a large, round portal ringed in a spiral of glowing vapors and stepped through.

By the time the group approached the blockade and its commander, Mistral had raised her mask to become a featureless shade.  A part of the ambient gloom.  She remained in an unobtrusive position near to Noah as the commander hailed them, but did not offer to identify herself.  Instead she asked simply, "The situation, commander?"

Noah did indeed store something with Mistral. He designed a bomb similar to the one he used the first time. A set of ten mana crystals from a daily shedding, set to liquefy and spray out followed by a trigger to ignite the mana. It was a magical fuel-air explosive. Never mind that it was then put into a small drone that looked like a Bob-omb from Mario. It was a bomb that only Mistral could use as there was no timer so no chance of defusing it.

He did have his armor on which was styled to make him appear like a quad emergency defense unit of the personal protection synth line. The head of it coming apart and vanishing under his neck armor as he dragged a palm down his long face allowing him to Claw Palm. "What they mean to say is that they are not synthetics. You did call about battle synths after all. That being said the only Synth in the group is me. Im effectively a brain in a jar piloting a tank." A true Jar Head.

"The reference to monsters is our classification system. Mook, thug, bruiser, werewolf, demon, dragon, Demigod, and Monday. Monday being the worst as no one wants to deal with a Monday."

He smiled at the idea of a lost bet. "You may take a bit off that. Plasma breathing dragon, not a fire breathing dragon. Though it may help if you know I am Noah, from Ark Co."

He gestured to Mistral as she already asked for an update. It was always a wicked delight to see her in her battle gear.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:22, Tue 06 Oct 2020.

Nefertiti looked at the group as they eagerly stepped into the portal and exited somewhere in the city.  A place where things were happening and a lot of weird machines and men... human men in a militant form.  This was good to see, and if so then Apep hasn't done much damage to the world and is back in his crevice brooding.

When she stepped out she was dressed in normal clothing that she had been in with her Ankh in hand and her Egyptian Crosier also with an Ankh on the top.

She didn't have much items to carry with her for she didn't know much of the things out there.

Standing there she looked at the others as they introduced themselves but she and Mistral were the only two who didn't give their names. She wasn't used to giving such information when she remembered when people gave theirs to her first and she had sages to introduce her to those in an audience.

Looking around she wanted to see if she was able to notice anyone attempting to alter the fabric of reality.

 The man looked at each, waiting for them all to speak. When everyone was done, he spoke. "I am First Sergeant Caraway and if we're using your classifications then it seems we may be coming down with a case of the Mondays. We lost 40 marines in the initial assault. We are unsure of the number or nature of the enemy but they now have enough firepower to equip a small army. We've cordoned off the area but lack the manpower to keep it fully secure. It's only a matter of time before our target slips between a gap in our defenses at this rate.

 Are you sure you're all Talion's personal elite squad... because I'm gonna be honest. You all look a bit more like a bunch of LARPers to me."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:15, Tue 06 Oct 2020.

Noah smiled wide, "We are not Talion's Elite squad. We are the Ark, the group of people that he asks to come in to handle things that he cant." A line he wouldn't have used if Mistral was out in the open rather than covered up. He leaned his head down to get eye level. "Any chance you had helm cam footage?"

 Caraway took them to a ruined building in which they had set up a command center. There, he ordered one of the marines to play the footage. In it, they could see the marines drive up in Humvees. Suddenly, the lead vehicle stopped. Soon after, they were all complaining that theirs wouldn't start.

 Then there was panicked screaming, gunfire, and a man shouting commands over the confusion. However, with the disorienting head movements, there was no clear view of the target they were hunting.

Nefertiti's body shook as if there were things crawling on her.  "This area is filled with tendrils of writhing black spiritual essence and spirit maggots. she watches the ground as if trying to step over the things but also watch as the move and slither under most peoples feet.

"Do you think it is wise to speak in such a corrupted area?  They could be listening and watching to relay such information to its foul master. she gave words of the wise in hope that they would be used.

Michael watched video feed and felt sorry for the soldiers that got slaughtered. He took a step back and knelt down. “Looks like I’m gonna need all my big guns for this one. I shall pray that the Lord lifts the veil from our eyes, so we may see the demons and monsters of this world for what they are. Do not startle Sergeant as what you see is real just hidden from you before.” He placed his sword down on the ground next to him and held the rosary in prayer. The prayers flowed with practiced grace as he asked for blessings from the various Saints including: George, Martin, Epipodius, and Abel. His muscles all over his body expanded with some uncomfortable sounding pops. Shimmering wings of light sprouted from his back and spectral armor overlaid on top of his form. A halo formed over his head, and his eyes glowed with an inner light. The others in the room could see the world around them ripple like the heat coming off the asphalt on a hot day. A simple acceptance and some resolve would all they need to see the world for what it really was. He rose from his prayers and stretched his wings. “I am ready now.”

Mistral smirked beneath her smartcloth mask at the First Sergeant's remark likening their motley band to LARPers.  She quietly went along to watch the disturbing footage of the previous massacre, which was consistent with her own observations of the interior.  She asked quietly, "Is there any indication of what l'ennemi intends?  Does it seek to escape, or is it otherwise engaged?"  She didn't expect that the Sergeant would have a true answer, but a report of its behavior might suffice to make useful inferences.

Nefertiti mentioned the corruption spirit worms, to which Mistral remarked, "I have seen these before, and the experience has not improved.  A moment..."  She began to quietly intone strange syllables, then performed a culminating gesture that forced the corruption spirits to recede in a large radius.  By then Michael had performed an impressive display to gather power of a very different kind.  Mistral looked on at the angelic wings and commented drily, "Subtil, mon ami.  Do you fly?"

Mistral then proceeded to fade into the background for a time as discussions progressed, as she performed some form of arcane examination of the area.

Noah walked up when Michale started casting some sort of ritual. It took him only a moment to identify the hunter's ritual and he then gripped both of Mich's hands and started shaking him enough to start interrupting the ritual on hand. He leaned in close enough that the blast furnace temperature of his breath huffed. "I can see the threads of what you are doing. Think about your teammates and what would happen if someone could see. How massive a breach of some of their social needs would be."

He wouldn't prevent Mich from casting his other rituals but if he tried to cast the true sight on a normal person when there was a dead woman, a vampire, and a dragon in the group... it would get interrupted as that much supernatural would frag someone's life when they tried to report it.

 Caraway looked from person to person as they spoke clearly confused about some of the more esoteric things they were talking about. Michael's wings were not visible to him, nor were any of the more overt of the things he did... and then, Noah began to shake Michael, interrupting the ritual that would have outed every supernatural present to the millitary.

 He took a deep breath as both Mistral and Michael are chanting. "What are you all doing?!? Wait... you know what, I don't want to know. So, you're saying you've seen this before? We can't tell what it wants. If you know anything, we would be very appreciative if you'd tell us."

 It seems he did not know she had been referring to the spirit maggots.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:38, Wed 07 Oct 2020.

Noah was not sure if Mistral wished to be in the spotlight so he errored on the side of caution. "A Monday class threat often goes for terrain alteration or destruction. If it is a Monday class it often has the power to do so. Dragon class has to take their time with it. If you have a really bad case of the Monday's you are dealing with up to Nanite class weapons. But there is tight control on that kind of tech."

"Last time was when they released a chemical agent, looked like raining blood but a bio lab found it to be a form of toxic plant life that we routed. After that, I think it was the bombing of Talions super boat."

Mistral realized that the First Sergeant had mistaken the meaning of her remark, although it reminded her that she had in fact encountered a similar entity before.  She answered, "I have encountered something that may be comparable to this, but I cannot be certain yet."  She let Noah speculate on the possibilities and give some context on past encounters.  Once he was finished she turned to Caraway and stated matter-of-factly, "First Sergeant, my recommendation is to consider this site a high-explosive zone dangereuse and prepare accordingly.  It may in fact come to that resolution."

Nefertiti noticed that the corruption from this area was removed but for how long.  Will it find a way to seep back into this area.  She didn't have the power or spell to cleanse the land but she watched closely as Mistral did.  Taking great consideration on what movements her hand did and the strange syllables.

Moving over to Mistral and speaking a bit low "What ritual did you preform to cleanse the area?

Again she listened to all this talk but still she knew very little about what they were speaking about. High-explosive zone.

 Caraway's mouth formed into a frown. "Detonating explosives inside of a friendly city is not something I can allow without explicit orders. It could cause panic and generate unwanted attention from the populace. Why does a civilian militia even have explosives anyway?"

Mistral didn’t flinch at the rebuke from the military man, and replied coolly, “Consider if the murderer of vos soldats were to escape to the nearest civilian population center.  Panic and public scrutiny would be rather greater for that, I suspect.”  Mistral made for a strange figure clad in head-to-toe black nano-weave, and she did not balk at speaking matter-of-factly to the Sergeant, “Such would be une mesure finale, used only in the greatest extremity of need.  May I remind that it was you who called Monsieur Talion, and he sent us.”

At Nefertiti’s question she answered quietly and simply, “It is a mobile repulsion ward attuned to corruption démoniaque.”

 Caraway nodded. "Fair enough. Now, if you don't mind, we're being charged for your services by the hour and you are very expensive."

 He took one hand and gestured toward the opening of the tent, as if inviting them to leave.

Noah smiled, "That is the kindest 'stop saying things I have to write down later' that I have ever heard." Noah stood up on all fours like a propper dragon and tilted his head side to side. "Time to clock in Ark Crew."

Noah noticed that Nefertiti raised an eyebrow when her called her Arc Crew.  Never had she agreed for such a position but only offering to help in removing the corruption that seeps over the lands.

Letting out a sigh she looked at the others for a moment and wasn't going to be the first to move out, seeing that most were well armed and with weird weapons. She thought it would be best to be closest to the back.  Her Powers were more of a range attack anyways.

Michael nodded and sheathed his Zweihander while taking off his bow. No point in wielding a sword if they start shooting before we even get close. “I will let you all know that if any of you die during this, please get their bodies to me a quick as you can. I have been taught the rite of Resurrection, but it is very draining on my soul. I don’t wish any of us to fall, but know that there is a backup plan.” The Hunter walked out of the command center.

Fate had been in the background of this scene as she had had nothing more to say. When she heard the name "Ark Crew" she too raised a brow, but she brushed it off with the thought of whatever and followed the group when the time came, gun in hand at the ready. Fate would stay behind Noah and Michael.

 The group passed the Marine cordon as they made their way to the ruined building still standing, broken but defiant, in the middle of what could only have been described as a giant footprint. Most of the rest of the block had been devastated, leaving behind only a few blasted shells. The wind-scoured skeletons of what were once buildings.

 There was no path one could take that would keep one concealed... but that also meant that the marines had a clear view of all of the creature's possible exits. It was eerily quiet, with only the sound of the wind around them. A faint howling in the wind, reminiscent of the screams of the damned.

OOC: no actual screams, just the wind with a disturbing affect to it.

OOC2: for those with spirit sight.


 

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
For those of you that could see the spirit world, the ground was writhing with black maggots and the air thick with flies, the rank stench of soured essence hung in the air like the scent of carrion, the screams of all those lives lost here imprinted upon the very soil of this place... and the scent of soured charnel only grows stronger as you approach.

---

Mistral was only too happy to exit the tent and leave the First Sergeant to his fretting.  As they exited she remarked drily, “I wasn’t aware this was paying work.”  Michael’s offer for resurrection raised a number of questions, but Mistral decided they would be better left for later.  “The area is warded, but I haven’t yet discovered what danger it may pose.  I will get us closer to inspect.”  Once out of sight of the military men she opened a mist-limned portal and stepped through it, taking them to a discreet location nearer to the site.

Once all were through she traced an invisible line along the ground and said, “This is the ward’s edge.  If you cross it I am uncertain what will happen.  Any ideas?”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:14, Sat 10 Oct 2020.

"Stick a hand in, and see what happens?" Sal suggests, half-seriously.

Noah shrugged and sat back. He put his hands in a prayer formation and pushed the tips of his claws to the indicated barrier. He had a natural resistance to magic so he figured if he could get in-between the threads he just may be able to open a hole for people to get through. Doing strange dragon stuff was always a flip of a coin. Really it was more Grey doing the moving with the armor as Noah's eyes rolled in entirely random directions. He still had teleportation vertigo but he had a number of fall back ideas. And using his magical resistance did not require he know which way was up or down.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:26, Sun 11 Oct 2020.

Michael observes the edge of the barrier and Noah interacting with it. “At the very least the barrier’s creator will be alerted to the crossing. We should expect retaliation or at least them being aware of our presence.” The Hunter observed the windows of the building as Noah crossed the threshold with its claws.

"Didn't really expect to surprise them at this point, did you, Michael?" said Sal.

He smiled. “A fool’s hope maybe. Just exercising all options.”

 Mistral managed to portal the group into an abandoned shell just an alley away from the destroyed ruin. The building itself offered little in the way of cover... but did allow just enough for the group to appear without breaking concealment.

Noah poked a mechanized claw through the ward but nothing happened. All was eerily calm as the group waited in anticipation of a reaction that did not come.

Sal stuck his own arm in. He wondered what this barrier did.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:25, Mon 12 Oct 2020.

Mistral considered the ward for a time, and said, "The ward is tied to Portes.  Doorways.  I can tell no more from here."  She turned away from the invisible ward and leaned against a broken wall behind the group, just as another Mistral approached from the side.  The replica, which was identical in every respect, said, "I will attempt to draw them out.  Await my signal or sign of danger apparent."

With that she passed through the ward's perimeter and crept toward the nearest entrance to the main structure.  If there was any way to see into the building Mistral would attempt it, and if there was a door she would discreetly attempt to open it.

"Going to be a moment. Grey is about the only thing holding me upright at the moment." And then Mistral mentioned that the ward was attached to doorways so he just hunkered down and let a master do her work. When it came to space magic it was all vertigo and confusion.

 Sal placed his own arm through the ward but found that nothing seemed to happen (he could only really see it due to the visual aide given to him) as Mistral's copy (at least, you think it's a copy) headed into the main building.

Mistral advanced through the unknown ward, stopped, then raised a fist to encourage the others to wait.  She followed a streak of blood that disappeared beneath a trap door, and remarked quietly, "This hatch leads to our enemy, and the atrocités it has done.  I will make preparations, then will open it."  Mistral spent some time carefully examining the portal for anything suspicious, then knelt and focused on a ritualistic work of magic to draw a protective ward over the premises.

If nothing goes amiss, Mistral will then pantomime a countdown to her companions before carefully and quietly opening the hatch.

If your powerset is involved with demons or portals, and can see Noah, roll an awareness for me.

Awareness...
This message was last edited by the player at 22:22, Tue 13 Oct 2020.

Response

PM

Awareness.....

Michael holds the Benedictine rosary that Noah gave him with the cross hanging down. He prayed to the Lord for guidance on where demonic powers might harm his allies.

 As Michael gripped the rosary, it began to emit a soft blue light, not visible in the mortal realm, but one that illuminated the spiritual world. The corruption present peeled back before it, setting the corruption ablaze.

Mistral:
Mistral:
Mistral:

Nefertiti:

Noah:

Michael: Handled by MoD

__________________________________

Inside: There was a shift that Mistral almost did not catch. Something had been moving to try and stay in her natural blind spots which to say she really had none with her mastery of space. The moment it twitched allowed Mistral to see her target like a Christmas display in a Halloween store. The shape vanishing through a wall right next to a door. It was fairly clear that this thing was heading outside to start working on a less problematic target!.

Outside: As Noah is laying down fully incapacitated by his teleportation vertigo the area around him grows excessively dark. There was a flicker as if something was causing "turbliance" for this effect but it was still going off like a good old ford truck that was refusing to give up!

 Darkness enveloped the incapacitated dragon and pressed down into the ground in an all too familiar fashion for Sal, who had once been on the receiving end of such a portal.

 Noah, for his part, experienced both another bout of Vertigo and Deja Vu as he was, once more, dropped through the solid ground.

Nefertiti looked to Michael for a moment "Are you able to shield us from the Corruption?  It is overwhelming and it seems to be effecting Noah more than we can see.

This was all something new to her and she still hasn't discovered the full extend of her own Powers.  But she knew that there was Demons afoot. Her Divine was soon to be tested or destroyed

Michael was shocked to see the big dragon being handled so harshly by the demonic forces. He looks over at Nefertiti and nods. “The corruption is everywhere, but the rosary is burning much of it away. I can try to create a Haven here.” Michael placed his hand holding the rosary upon Noah’s shoulder and whispered the Lord’s Prayer over the group. The halo above his head began to expand slowly burning away a lot of the surrounding spiritual impurities until the halo encompassed the whole building area.

OOC: Bear in mind that, whatever this is, seems to be dragging Noah away rather than trying to enter and it only lasts a few seconds before the darkness vanishes.

OOC: Did Michael's Haven send it off?  And is the Haven having any effect on me?

Checking before I make my next post.

OOC: Haven set time only affect demonic force. Nobody here.

PM

OOC: Michael what effect does your Haven have?

The stealthy attack came swiftly, but Mistral had many eyes on the scene and was swift to react.

Mistral turned away from the hatch, bringing a long blackened blade to hand and taking a ready stance.  At the same moment, Mistral stepped out of the darkness on the left flank performing rapid gestures of binding to create a loop of infinite space to take hold the dragon before he could fall.  Another Mistral rounded a corner on the right flank, black blade in a reverse grip and approaching with a purposeful stride.

The trio of Mistrals garbed in identical full-body catsuits formed a deadly triangle around the conflict, masked and implacable facing down the enemy.

 Chaos erupted as the darkness burst forth, engulfing Noah in a shroud and dragging him down.

 Michael reacted by trying to ward the building... however, before he could even throw down a salt circle, the darkness had already claimed Noah.

OOC: going to see if you continue with your ward



 Mistral reacted by attempting to catch Noah in a bubble of expanded space but the ambush was quick and efficient, sinking Noah into the ground just as her net was finished being woven.

 Noah was gone. His sympathy was gone... and the only individual who had any idea of what had caused this was a copy of Mistral who had seen it run through a wall.

As the darkness had moved too fast, Michael stopped mid prayer and hung his head. “I wasn’t fast enough.”

OOC: didn’t finish the ward if Noah was gone too fast

"Damn it!" said Sal. He looked around with his spirit glasses, while he loaded an Emperor's Tear into the gun Noah had given him for that purpose.

PM

Fate had been quietly following the group until now when she witnessed Noah's capture. She spoke the words load and clear like a prayer of her very own, "Sword of omens give me slice beyond slice." As she spoke these words her blades appeared from her wrists and she held them in front of her in a battle ready stance. She stayed aware, but glanced into the reflection of her blades to see what she could of her surroundings.

It's a longshot, he knows, but Sal will see if he can reach Noah over comms.

Noah was a master when it came to making things, but he was not so skilled as to make something that could cross the planar line to where he was just ejected... but if Sal reminded him later it was likely he could rig a relay station at the shed at some point.

"He's out of comms range. Considering these are his comms, he's not on this plane of existence." Sal deduced aloud.

Looking to Sal "That is not a good sign.  He may be taken much farther than you can imagine. she looked around and tried to see if she was able to determine in what direction any fabric of reality being effected.

"I believe there is more than one Demon in this area.

With the Mistral clone having left the building to set up her cage of Mistrals the original plan the monster had needed to change.

It was clearly up to something and not coming outside.

Spirit side: All the spirits seemed to grow still as if trying to see what was going to come of the fight and who would become a nice snack. However, people who are only seeing into the twilight such as Sal see much more damage to the buildings than is presented in the real world like someone went out of their way to make them systematically

Nefertiti: Without some special power like Lantern of faith, about all you can tell at the moment is that the fuel source of the power was faith based.

Michael looked to Mistral. “Any recommendations on what to do next?”

Mistral spun her spatial web too late to catch Noah before he plummeted into realms unknown, and as he fell she quietly hissed from the mouths of multiple self-replicas, "Merdasse!"

Her expression could not be seen under the full facemask, but the body language of the three visible Mistral copies was tensely watchful as they rapidly scanned all directions.  She tersely said, "Remain on your guard.  Les démons are near.  They have opened spirit-ways through which they can pass but we cannot, or so they suppose.  There is one here, and there, and there.  Mind them."  Each of the three duplicates pointed to the supposed locations of several nearby spirit-doors, although to conventional observation they looked like solid section walls and ground.

One copy of Mistral glared at the place where Noah vanished for a few moments longer before saying, "We can do nothing for him in this moment.  We must press on."  Another replica approached a particular section of wall and began to trace a pattern over it in an attempt to open the way.  Should she manage to successfully open the spirit-door, Mistral would intone, "I will scout the way."  She then took the lead and sauntered through the new opening with deadly and decisive purpose.

Moving to one of the replicas of Mistral as she pointed out one of the spirit-doors and then she focused on the door hoping that she might be able to close it, if possible.

 Mistral's copy began to work her magic and soon seemed to phase into the wall after the creature.

 Nefertiti, following Mistral's guidance, reached out and found that her portal did indeed latch on to just such a portal... and she felt her power working as one of the many gateways closed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:13, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

Michael for his part held the rosary at one end and stood in front of one of the portals swinging the rosary like a chain with the cross on the end like a weapon ready to smack anything that emerged from the portal while Mistral did her scouting and Nefertiti closed another door.

Sal stood back from the unattended portal, aiming his spell gun, ready to fire if anything suspicious comes out.

Mistral backed out of the hidden doorway a few moments later, and though her face was concealed her body language showed that she was shaken by whatever she'd seen on the other side.  It took quite a lot to rattle Mistral, but there was a distinct disconcerted tone to her voice as she muttered, "It cannot be real.  Ne peux pas."  She glanced to the others and reported, "Hell lies beyond la porte, or so it appeared.  I think it must be illusoire, but we cannot pass under such terribles stimuli..."

 Mistral's passage through was brief but the form of her that entered the wall did not exit and her feedback came through one of her copies.

 There was silence for a time. Cold, dead, silence combined with the ever present pressure of being watched... of being hunted.

 But, for now, nothing happened.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:04, Fri 23 Oct 2020.

So at current:
 Real world: Noah has been bamphed away. The group is outside the target building with a number of Mistrals keeping watch. Michaels rosary is ablaze indicating demonic presence. Nefertiti can nearly taste the faith used to power the trap that was sprung. A quiet moment, too quiet.

 The Twilight: People who can see into the twilight through powers, or the perfected silver like Fate's blades and Sal's goggles. There are far more holes in the ruins in twilight than can be seen in the real world. There is a giant hole in the middle that some of you are standing in mid air over because the real world isnt translating what just happened in the spirit world.

 There is a big steel I beam laying under the rubble as if something hit it and kept running as to not be squished by a heavy falling dragon.

There is a dusty foot print in the twilight down there but nothing in the real world as there isnt a hole in the real world.

"When is a hole not a hole?" Sal asked, fighting vertigo, as he looked down.

Nefertiti informs everyone of what she was able to sense the feeling of Faith but corrupted by its maker.  She looked around wondering if she was able to make heads or tails of the right portal to take that took Noah.

"If it is hell then what ever is on the other side will be much stronger there than here in this world.  We must tread carefully. she was concerned that she might not be able to handle what was on the other side, well not yet at least.

"What do you suggest, Madame. looking at Mistral

"If we could step into the Twilight, as I believe it's called, I believe Noah fell into the huge hole beneath us, or rather, that would be beneath us if we were standing in that realm," suggested Sal.

The replica of Mistral nearest to Sal answered him and Nefertiti quietly in the affirmative, "Oui.  Time to step past the veil behind which they hide.  Be ready, mes amies."  Two nearby duplicates looked on as one paced around the edge of the shadow-realm pit and began a darkly-echoing incantation.  This ritual had a primal and uneasy aura about it, and lacked the precision and finely-honed craft of her usual spells of travel.  She gestured for the others to step away from the pit as she worked.

After chanting a full circle about the pit Mistral concluded with a climactic gesture that caused the pit hidden by their adversary to yawn open, now visible to all.  Oily shadows bubbled up around the edges of the pit, and the space seen below was a dim reflection of our world in which the darkness is deeper and spirits roam.

"After moi." a Mistral said, just before dropping down into the pit.

 The first thing Mistral noticed as she opened the bubbling, fetid portal was the rank scent of decay, fundamentally different from the scent of charnel (which, disturbingly enough, she was growing accustomed to) and, somehow, more nauseating.

 Her copy dropped into the pit and was immediately surrounded by choking flies and crawling black maggots... which were no longer insubstantial. Fortunately enough, however, she was currently... though the sound of buzzing and chitinous slithering was nearly deafening in the tenebrous tunnel.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:38, Tue 27 Oct 2020.

Michael stepped away from the portal he was facing. They seemed to find a way to follow Noah. He hopped down into the hole still swinging the rosary in a circle ready to defend himself from anything that would attack.

Sal followed Mistral, "I'm unfamiliar with the Twilight. Its the realm between ours and  that of the spirits, right? Any idea what we should expect, Mist?"

 As Michael leapt into the hole, he stepped into the world of the spirits and rosary transformed into a physical blade of blue fire (treat as a zweihander). Though Mistral's magical field pressed against the tremendous mass of the critters, she found that she facing a great deal of resistance from them as they pushed back against her.

 However, a swing of the mighty divine weapon reduced swathes of the creatures to ash. However, the swarm of corruption was endless and it felt like chopping through jungle just to keep in one place.

 Sal also now found himself in the hole. However, even in this altered place, he recognized the surroundings (while humans and mages may well not). They were in a sewer maintenance tunnel. Here in the spirit world, it lacked the familiar revolting scent (replaced with something far worse) but he could tell where they were regardless.

Nefertiti looked at the portal and she too stepped into it seeing where in the Hells it was leading.  And if it was possible to rid the Universe of one Demon was a boon.

Her head looked left then right and even looking upward for any flying creatures that might think it was able to surprise them.

With her own Holy Symbol in hand and her Faith strong she wasn't going to give up so easily to these foul beings.  Looking at the corruption that covered over everything it was an abomination.

She didn't want to allow her Apocalyptic Form to take shape not yet.

When Mistral leaped into the pit and the Shadow the corruption vermin retreated in all directions, like darkness pushed back by a solitary glow.  Though the slithering things could not approach they strained at the boundaries, pressed inward by the weight of thousands more of their kind.  The Mistral managing the repulsion field was now wholly occupied with maintaining it against the increased strain, so it was the second Mistral to descend who answered Sal, “This is the realm of spirits, mon ami.  We now see la forme physique of the corruption that infests this place.  Our adversaries will be unable to hide in the umbra while we are here, nor will their physical traps affect us.  However, passage becomes somewhat more difficult.  We hunt a cunning foe who hunts us on its own territory.  We must seize every advantage to survive this.”

She turned to Michael, who had just cut burning swathes through the writhing darkness that blocked their passage, then gestured to the footprint that was now visible to all, “We have a track to follow, but we will need to cut out our path.  Will you blaze our trail whilst I push the repulsion field, Monsieur Michael?  Fate, Nefertiti, any assistance in tracing our foe, or otherwise, would be welcomed.  Sal, be ready with that weapon...”

Once all were ready to move, Mistral strained to push the repulsion field forward into any cleared space ahead.

Sal had the magic gun ready. "This gun fires spells, does magic function normally here?" he asks.

 As Sal asked his question, Mistral was busy pushing a giant bubble of magical force against a horde of maggots in a manner similar to a giant hamster ball as Michael brandished a rosary that had sprouted blue fire and was swinging it like a sword, incinerating swathes of them that Mistral might make headway.

 Nefertiti looked around her at the buzzing, writhing abominations covering every conceivable surface of this tenebrous labyrinth emitting a cacophony of chitinous chittering, scrabbling at the invisible bubble of force Mistral had created and seeking to devour anything that dared to step outside the mobile boundary.

 In the physical world, there were only two doors to this tunnel (the one behind them and the one ahead where they are fairly certain their quarry had run (due to the footprint in the sludge)) but, in the spirit world, there was a third passage. It was a hole knocked into the spiritual wall leading into a well of infinite blackness.

Fate was repulsed at the sight of the sludge, but pushed down those feelings of disgust and press forward following the group as they went. She admired how strong a weapon the rosary had proven to be and hoped that'd her weapons proved to be just as useful. When Mistral asked for any assistance Fate bowed her head only slightly, but in shame for all of her studying she seemed to be useless in this task.

Michael held onto the rosary and swung at the edge of the sphere in strong wide arcs to force a hole for them to press on through. This world was unlike anything he had ever encountered before. He fought back disgust at what he saw and focused his efforts on working a way forward. “So door or giant hole?”

Truning to Michael "It would be best to take the giant hole.  I think the Demon is there and has Noah. she wasn't sure but it was logic.

She wasn't sure what she was capable of in the Spirit World and to tracking their foe but she tried whatever she could in sniffing it out or trying to see if it left any patterns in the Reality Realm.

PM

Sal nodded, "That's my instinct, as well, Nefertiti. Fair warning, everyone, this gun is unpredictable. If I need to fire it at something, you don't want to be standing near it. Mist, I hate to ask, but if the situation comes up: should I treat each of your manifestations as if they are the only Mistral? Do you share pain? Are some or all expendable?"

One Mistral pushed into the space cleared by Michael with the repulsion sphere, which was only visible by the squirming masses of shadow-maggots held at bay in every direction.  Another of her just behind Micheal turned to reply to Sal, "If one of moi obstructs a shot at un démon, take it."  Yet another Mistral waved a hand before Sal so that he could see it pass through the weapon in his hands, insubstantial as a ghost though still fully visible.  That copy said, "I will be unharmed."

The Mistral that remained at the rear stood still with a small brass mirror in hand.  The copy ahead said, "Notre adversaire leaves traps.  The most likely path must be viewed with suspicion."  Mistral did not intend to advance anywhere blindly, and so she opted to peek ahead...

In reply to Fate (msg # 91):

PM

"Seems we were left a nice little note, by our quarry I presume." The sarcasm was thick in her voice as she crouched down and pointed at a line across the bottom in front of the door. She uses her blade's reflection to reveal a pad at the end of the thin cable with letters depicting "front toward enemy" on it.

“Do not enter the black porte.  It leads to a realm of deeper shadow that does not welcome visitors.”  The Mistral by the door ahead reported, “This door opens to a ruined subway tunnel, free of corruption démoniaque.”  The Mistral at the rear of the group indicated the doorway behind them and reported, “Behind this door is a partially flooded chamber where sits a living soldier bound to a chair, in the physical realm.  So it appears.  A trap, undoubtedly.”

Fate’s discovery was rather interesting, and the nearest Mistral crouched down to get a closer look herself.  She remarked, “Well that you discovered this, Madame.  It cannot affect us in this realm, but in the other... perhaps more so.”  Mistral studied the apparent trap closer, in hopes of discovering what dangers it might pose.

Michael looked at the black portal and motioned for everyone else to proceed. “Let’s get going. The longer we take, the farther away Noah could be taken.”

Looking to the Mistral at the back "Why do you think its a trap, it has a soldier bound to a chair.  We should try to save him if possible.

Michael considered the situation. “It has become clear that our foe prefers to set traps and separate our group from each other. It could very well be a trap designed to lock the first one that goes through into a room with a beast with no backup. By defeating our foe, it’s influence here will be diminished allowing us to rescue the soldier on the way back.”

"I agree with Michael. The Subway tunnel, then?" Sal says.

Looking at Michael "Do not fear about a doorway being locked.  I'm sure our foe didn't expect me to be along to have the Gift to Unlock it. she said as she looked around trying to see if there was any other options.

"If the subway, she paused as she said the word and then repeated herself subway is the way we should go then lead on.

Mistral answered Nefertiti, "Any thing left by our enemy is a trap, mon amie.  The soldier is likely an unwilling participant in this game.  We can trust nothing."  She considered their options and then said, "Let us visit the tunnel, then.  I will enter first."  The Mistral who had been examining the black portal approached the door she had indicated led to the subway tunnel, then gave it a closer look.  The Mistral at the center of the repulsion field as well as the third copy remained several yards back from the door, and indicated the others would be wise to do the same.

The Mistral on point then made to open the door quickly and step through.

 The step into the spirit realm of the abandoned subway was a breath of fresh air compared to the festering corrupted sewer. It nonetheless contained spirits of vice. Lust, addiction, and envy were rife here and the faded graffiti had become a spiritual neon sign, marking the territory of something else... something Mistral guessed was likely werewolf in origin.

 Michael's glowing blue sword vanished once the corruption had vanished.

Michael followed and noticed the spiritual power of the rosary subside. At least it was a good sign that there wasn’t a huge demon presence here. He looked around and his Hunter experiences told him one thing. “Werewolves. This place stinks of them. Much like the ones that attacked several of us before. Anybody need some silver before we go too far in?”He readied his silver Zweihander and looked to the others.

Sal holstered his magic gun and checked that his rifle was loaded with silver bullets and held it at the ready. "Got silver bullets." He said, quietly.

Taking a moment before the group entered she thought about her weapons and realized that none were of Silver.  Mostly Gold.

Looking to Michael "I can use a weapon of Silver. even though she carries no weapon one can not be sure if she is proficient with any.

"Ready as I'll ever be." Fate says as she still holds her blades at the ready.

Michael pulls a switchblade out of his boot and opens the blade before handing it to Nefertiti in case she didn’t know how to. The blade was indeed made of silver. “Sorry I don’t have something more substantial to give you but it will do more than a sword not made of silver.”

 As the group walked, they could smell, even on this side of the veil, old piss and rotting beer mingled with the sour rank of alcohol induced vomit. Despite that, it was a far cry better than the scent of rotting essence in the sewer before.

 Up the stairs, the group found a pack of large, black dogs on their side of the veil. Their fur was splotched and mangy, their eyes glowed a baleful red and, instead of teeth, the creatures seemed to have syringes filling their mouths.

 They raised their hackles and bared their needle teeth but were unable to approach the barrier Mistral had erected. It seemed as though they were guarding something.

Nefertiti watched as Michael opened the blade and when he handed it to her she tried to close and open it herself hoping that she was capable of this task.  Giving him a nod of thanks.

Then she followed the party and when she spotted the foul large black dogs she looked them over closely.  Allowing her eyes to become Heightened.

---

Auspex: Heightened Senses.

Mistral was wary that this subway tunnel had led them astray, but then the hounds of disease and vice came into view.  She paused, recognizing the beasts' inability to draw nearer, then asked their newer companions, "Are these les loups-garous you encountered previously?  What is it they defend, one wonders."

The Mistral maintaining the repulsion field advanced slowly toward the red-eyed beasts, pushing them out and judging their reactions.  Other copies of herself surveyed the area to understand what they had happened upon, and its relevance to the demons that were their quarry.

 As Mistral approached, the Addiction Dogs were pushed back... but they did not yield their ground willingly. They lunged and snapped, their saliva reeking of intoxicants... and, as they were pushed back and the upper level of the subway came into view, they group could see why.

 The entire upper level of the subway was splattered with fluid which Mistral quickly confirmed was Essence. The corpses of spirit dogs littered the ground in the spirit world, impaled through the chest in the same gruesome manner as every victim you've encountered up until now had been.

 … and, on the other side... in the real world... the skinned and headless remains of men and women dangled from the ceiling, their backs butterflied for the clean removal of the spines along with the head.

 Their shredded clothing scattered the floor but, Michael noticed that the shredded garments seemed to be more likely from werewolf transformation than having been cut off.

 The sense of unpleasantness was here too... the dark feelings that surface in one's darkest moments and lowest points in life. It became ever more difficult to push back those dark thoughts here, in the spiritual nexus of corruption that was a werewolf lair.

 … however, Mistral did notice one last thing... almost missing it amidst the malfeance and gore. A woman hid in a dark corner of the subway in the real world.

"Who... what would do such a thing?" Sal asked, as much in curiosity as shock.

Fate turned to the side at the back of the group and held her stomach as she hunched over slightly. She couldn't much handle this scene. It was too much. She didn't want to think of the nightmares that would come from having seen what was already seen. She had been tough up until now, but her stomach churned wanting to release it's bile.

Mistral could feel the grim spiritual weight of this place, but resolved not to show weakness to these sick hounds.  After all, her strength of will was the only thing holding them at bay.  She hissed with shock at the grisly tableau, and whispered in apprehensive awe as she took it all in, “Quelle horreur...”  She had to wonder to herself how there could be good in a world containing such atrocity.  That notion probably came from the local spiritual malaise, but it was hard to argue against despair just now.

If they were to wait for the shock to wear off they’d never move, so Mistral pressed on.  She tried to clear her mind to study the scene as impartially as one could, in hopes to learn something from it.  As she looked over the vicious slaughter she noticed something, or rather, someone.  The nearest Mistral pointed her out to the others, “We are not alone.  She is on the other side of the gauntlet and cannot see us, save by extraordinary measures.”

That Mistral approached the hiding woman, keeping within the repulsion field, to check whether she was friend or foe.  If the woman appeared to be an innocent, she would begin the ritual to open a road back to the fallen world.

 The two Addiction Dogs snarled fiercely and hurled themselves impotently at Mistral's barrier as she tried to approach the woman.

 Michael had seen similar behavior in the dogs that Jay had kept. As Mistral approached, the woman perked up and looked around. One of her eyes went milky white as she locked gazes with the group that approached... and then dove deeper into the wreckage of the station behind her.

 Mistral caught sight of the needle marks on her arms as she scrambled away, fear muddling the young woman's senses.

 By the way the Addiction Dogs guarded her and the powers she displayed, it was not hard to guess that this woman was a survivor... a werewolf, fleeing in terror like a cornered rabbit.

Michael looked at the carnage before them and sighed. Such horror and desecration. It made what he saw under the church seem tame by comparison. Michael looked to the others. “I can purge this place of these foul spirits for at least a day. It would also prevent the werewolves from coming back to their lair. It would take but a minute unless you wish to pursue her.”

As the woman fled, Mistral spoke a few quick syllables in an unknowable tongue while gesturing, and then stopped.  Something seemed to happen to the local area, though it was difficult to quantify what changed when everything looked the same.  One copy of Mistral stepped forward, crossed her arms, and waited.  To Michael she said, "It may come to that, but I would like to speak to this one first."  The Mistral sustaining the repulsion field remained behind the others.

Several moments passed, and suddenly the milky-eyed addict re-emerged from the wreckage looking rather confused as to how she'd come back to the place she'd just fled.   The Mistral at the forefront kept a safe-seeming distance from the woman and spoke in a level tone that echoed strangely across the gauntlet, "Bonsoir, madame.  We mean you no harm.  We only wish to speak with you, and discover what has happened here."

 The woman paused for a time, looking around her in both worlds. Her voice was strained and hushed as she spoke, fear caressing each syllable. "Then you are already dead. The devil came for them... and now it will come for you too."

 Now that she was closer, everyone could see that something was wrong with her. Her hair had begun to fall out, there were odd growths on her face and her ears were pointed... not that any of those things would be out of place on a werewolf mid-transformation... but only her head was undergoing the change.

Nefertiti remained quiet while Mistral was working her magic on the woman, but she also kept a watchful eye on anything that might move unnoticeable from the naked eye.

Sal stepped back a bit, keeping an eye on the passage they came from.

Mistral took another step closer to the woman, hands empty, and replied matter-of-factly, "Au contraire.  It is we who come for this démon."  She stopped and then added, "What you know may help us to hunt the démon.  Aid us, and we may be able to help you in return."

Mistral glanced toward the gruesomely, surgically, eviscerated corpses and asked, "Did you know them?  What happened?"

 The woman saw you look up, but she cast her eyes intentionally in the opposite direction. "They were my pack. They were my brothers and sisters. The attack happened so fast, most of us didn't even have a chance to respond. Even then, we couldn't see it. We could only react to the scent of blood approaching... but the dead didn't stay dead. They got back up and started biting.

 They were my family. I couldn't raise my hand against them so I hid. That's then the demon started taking trophies. Then it vanished back into the dark. Now I hear screams from further in the tunnel. They sound like my pack... but my pack is dead."

 As she says that last part, the group could hear the echoes of screams from behind them, further back down the subway tunnel.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:20, Sat 14 Nov 2020.

Michael looked back towards where they had come. At least now they had some kind of a description as to what the demon was. He was concerned about what was happening to the woman. “It is not good for you to stay here. You should leave.”

 The woman looked at Michael with that one milky eye. He had seen Jay use this same power before but it was still more than a bit disconcerting given her grotesque partial transformation. "I've tried but every door loops back in upon itself, always leading back here... to the bodies. I'm trapped... and now you're trapped here too."

 The screams grow quiet but the group can hear the sound of rustling... or flapping in the darkness behind them.

Mistral suppressed a chill at the description of the demon’s murder and reanimation of the werewolves.  A single living werewolf was said to be a force to be reckoned with, so a demon-cursed pack of undead werewolves did not sound especially pleasant.  Mistral turned toward the screams and the rustling darkness, though still watched the mangy woman as well.  She asked the survivor, “How is it that you survive, Madame, when your pack was killed so swiftly?  Le démon has afflicted you, yet you live.”

Mistral murmured quiet mystic words, but did not seem pleased with the result, which seemed to be no result at all.

 The woman did not have a chance to reply before the rustling sound was upon you. What came from the darkness was a thing of utter revulsion. Flying heads with wings where their ears once were, trailing the spinal columns... now split into four flailing tendrils. Eyes glowing a baleful yellow.

 They were half-transformed twisted mockeries of werewolves, howling and screaming in a twisted cacophony of agony and unholy hunger.

 The moment they laid eyes on Mistral, Mistral and Fate began to feel their grip on their magic weakening as the sickening resonance of the Abyss reached out. Mistral's copies vanished in a puff of logic as the horrors approached. They could be seen and felt on both sides of the Twilight and one of the heads slammed into Mistral's Repel field. It shuddered and she could feel it weakening.

Michael was repulsed by what he was seeing. “Such blasphemy!”He knelt down and prayed to the Lord to consecrate and bless the area they were in against the vile creatures. In a matter of seconds, a halo appeared above his head and enlarged to cover the entirety of the room and the tunnel to the black hole. He hoped it would be enough to keep the creatures at bay.

04:38, Today: Michael rolled 4 successes using 7d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 10(+9),8,5,6,10(+5),5,2.  Blessed Protection round 3.

04:38, Today: Michael failed (no successes) using 7d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 7,6,2,3,7,3,6.  Blessed Protection round 2.

04:38, Today: Michael rolled 2 successes using 7d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 5,3,5,7,3,4,10(+8).  Blessed Protection round 1.

Cast Blessed Protection of St. Agrippina. Takes 3 rounds to spread 6 yards radius from Michael to cover the room and out into the tunnel. One WP spent. Strength of the Ward is 6 specifically against the demons.

Side note from a side GM: You may want to do only one round at a time. Rolling them all now may commit you to something you dont want to commit to.

Fate held her blades at the ready for one of those monstrosities to come close enough.

Mistral had expected the werewolf spines and heads had been misused for some profane ritual, but she certainly hadn't expected this.  It was more than simple squeamish disgust she felt for these abominations, for their very existence is antithetical to to all arcanum and, by extension, to reality itself.  These unliving atrocities could not be suffered to exist.

Only a single Mistral remained in evidence, and she began to weave strange arcanum.  Those with an eye for the workings of such things might notice there was something different in her method this time.  Something alien, but also strengthening the threads of the local Tapestry.  She concluded her casting with a snatching gesture, and at the same moment several of the horrific flying heads stopped dead in the air as if reaching the end of an invisible leash.

 Mistral weaved the alien geometries of her enigmatic Arcanum as the space surrounding the creatures coalesced, drawing around them like a net. Though she had managed to ensnare three of them, two of them wriggled free of her grasp, leaving only one held fast.

 These winged abominations smashed against Mistral's repel shield repeatedly and, with each impact, she felt the shield crack and weaken until it shattered completely.

 It was then that the remainder of the beasts descended. Two upon each of those who had come down here. Sal's speed and toughness allowed him to evade and avoid the gnashing teeth, as did Fate's magic and her new armor. Michael's training likewise allowed him to avoid the blow.

 Nefertiti was not quite so lucky. One of the heads clamped down on her shoulder. Despite that, the wound was not particularly deep.

 Likewise, Mistral found herself so busy trying to entrap the beasts that she did not see one of the heads fly in and clamp down on her arm.

 The female werewolf clutched at her ears, falling to the fetal position, screaming.

Michael continued his chanting as the halo grew bigger and bigger. Only a few more seconds and the ritual would be complete to drive away the demons. He just needed a few more seconds as he dodged away from the monstrosities.

OOC: I’ll guess this is round two of the rite. Need to go one more round to complete the ward.

Mistral had hoped for a better result from the suspension field, but there was no helping it now.  The repulsion field was shattered, and now there was nothing left to do but destroy these abominations before this got uglier than it already was.

There were no more co-located copies of herself in this realm to lead the gnashing wolf-heads astray, and so it was Mistral's physical arm that suffered its bite.  She glared down at it with disgust, feeling insulted to be bitten by such a loathsome thing.  The pain would come later, after the adrenaline ebbed.  Mistral whipped her long knife from a thigh-sheath and deftly twirled it into a forward grip, then with a flick of the wrist caused blue flames to ripple along the blackened blade.  Then, with one swift motion she slashed at the biter.  The mono-molecular cutting edge met little resistance as it sheared away the upper half of the decapitated head, sending a flaming slab of werewolf skull twirling away into the darkness.

Ordinarily Mistral would be confident that such a devastating wound would be a decisive kill.  However, considering that this was an abyssally-corrupted severed werewolf skull that can fly, she could no longer be so certain.  She glanced back warily at the now-screaming werewolf clutching her head.  Mistral remarked evenly, "We are soon to have another of ces abominations.  Mercy-killing would be a more humane end."

EDIT: Added a little bit on the end about the screaming lady, which I forgot about when posting initially
This message was last edited by the player at 07:25, Thu 19 Nov 2020.

Seeing how effective Michael's holy powers had been so far, Sal  moved away from the thing trying to bite him, and fired his rifle at the creature attacking the holy man.

When the abominations broke through the ward that was protecting them and she spotted two of these things coming in her direction she gasped and then a sudden glow covered her body as it took on a different shape and form.

Nefertiti grew a bit taller and taking on an ethereal figure, her limbs grew as well and her body became lean covered with intricate lines and patterns etched in silvery blue light that shifts and realigns.

Her movement is fluid as her steps are soundless, her feet leave no impression to mark their passing.  Her eyes change like bright sapphires, casting the blue light of the stars.

A pair of wings made of light appear extending from her shoulders.



21:28, Today: Nefertiti rolled 4 successes using 4d10 with the World of Darkness 3rd ed, Specialised system with a target of 6, rerolling 10s.  AF.

 Mistral's blade left the severed beast head burning and writing on the floor, slowly being consumed with the flame from the knife. Sal's shot landed dead on, exploding out the back of the creature's skull, leaving it flopping and flailing far more than should be possible after having been lobotomized via firearm.

 The creatures were fierce but did not seem to be particularly sturdy... that said, they seemed to have a particular knack for finding weak spots. Nefertiti once more found herself on the recieving end of a shoulder bite while she was in the middle of her stunning transformation. Meanwhile, the one harassing Michael as he continued to put up his barrier found a soft spot on the back of his neck to clamp down on.

 Much as Mistral had predicted, the woman spasmed on the ground as her spine began to twist and move of its own accord to the sound of popping bones and tearing sinew. Werewolved were no stranger to painful transformations but this seemed to be far and away more than what her pain tolerance could handle.

 However, as the woman's screaming reached a crescendo, Michael finished his circle, repelling the creatures back to a safe distance. The remaining creatures retreated back into the darkened corridor, their own screams matching the young woman at your feet.

 Nefertiti's skin burned in the presence of Michael's barrier and she felt herself become physically ill as the barrier forced her back into her human form and suppressed all of her powers.

Nefertiti was about to attack the bodyless creature that was attacking her till all of a sudden her skin started to burn and she knew at once what it was.  Her head turned to Michael and in her eyes he could see the pain his True Faith was causing upon her.

She didn't want to risk him taking it down and allowing those abominations to return so she moved to be on the outside of his ring and hoped that it was good enough to keep those beast from coming near her.

Activating Celerity in hope to aid in her defense.

Michael looked confused with what was happening to Nefertiti. She didn’t trigger the rosary’s flame with her presence, so why was his ward affecting her so much? He was glad that at least the demonic abominations had been driven off. This way they could heal up before going into the realm of demons. “Nefertiti, you ok? What is happening to you? Does anybody require healing?”

The attack from the flying werewolf-head monstrosities was brief and violent, though it was not over.  Mistral watched as the heads flitted away screaming into the dark, then turned to screaming at their feet.  The unfortunate woman had been doomed to this ugly fate since before they’d found her, and it was certainly too late to save her now.  Mistral stood over the screaming wretch as the bloody spinal column began to slither free from a torn neck.  She knelt, twirled her flaming knife into a reverse grip and drove it straight down into the cursed creature’s brain stem.  The knife pierced all the way through, then Mistral quickly levered the blade downward, bisecting the head and brain like an onion on a butcher’s block, except with more fire.  Mistral rose to her feet and stared down at the corpse for a few moments longer, expression hidden by her black mask, then flicked her wrist to quench the flaming blade.

Mistral turned to Michael and said, “Une ward efficace.  How long will it last?”  She checked the bite on her arm which stung, but not too badly.  She shook her head to Michael’s question of healing, though she was concerned about the possibility of some form of abyssal infection.  That was when Mistral noticed Nefertiti fleeing at speed, likely from Michael’s faith-ward.  The faith-ward probably repelled a broad swathe of creatures deemed to be ‘unnatural’ according to his faith, and lacked the precision to exclude friendly specimens.  As apt a metaphor as that was, it was rather inconvenient now.  Mistral followed Nefertiti to the edge of the salt ring and said to her, “Do not go too far, Madame.  There are more of these.”

Nefertiti looked to Michael with a sad expression. "It is your faith.  Even the Divine is helpless to anther's True Faith she replied keeping a bit close to the outer ring of his ward and if the abominations came closer to her she would step into the Ward.

"You can't heal me and keep the ward up.  I will survive a bit longer she smiled

Michael nodded in understanding to Nefertiti. “I can maintain the ward and heal as well, but I am concerned that my blessings would have the opposite effect on you.”

He turned to Mistral. “Unless this tunnel collapses, it should remain in place for a week.”

Sal keeps an eye on the direction the things flew off in. If a clean shot presents itself, he'll take it. He says,"Flying wolf heads trailing vertebrae. Add those to the long list of things I never knew I didn't want to see. Well, better we find such things, and kill them, before the... what do mages call them? Sleepers do... Let's just be careful-- I fear that saying about the abyss staring back may have been more literal than the nihilists realized."

 Sal managed to get off one more shot, pegging the abomination as it fled, causing it to explode in a burst of gore on the floor.

 Likewise, Mistral's blade cut cleanly through the woman's head, stopping the unholy spasming and her screams went silent.

 Black ichor seeped from the cauterized wounds Mistral had inflicted, spilling out with a hiss as it touched the concrete floor and evaporating into a black miasma.

 As Mistral explored, she found the path back to the man in the chair and the path back to the charnel chamber.

 … she also found a path leading back out into the sewers. It was now a next of flying heads... several more than the swarm that had attacked you. They were multiplying…
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:37, Fri 27 Nov 2020.

Michael thought about something. “Do you think it’s possible that the bite these things have will try to make us one of them like that werewolf lady almost did? A supernatural infection or parasite of some sort? If so, I might could try to exorcise it.”

"Seems like a good idea," says Sal, as he examines himself to see if he had any bites.

Mistral gestured to the corpse of the accursed woman said grimly, “They multiply, and she was bitten prior to this.  Those of us who have been bitten are at risk of the same.”  She examined her own wound in more respects than just the physical, then began to incant unspeakable words while gesturing with the other hand like drawing out an invisible thread of abyssal corruption.

Fate, too, started to check herself for any bites.

 Michael, Nefertiti, and Mistral had all been bitten. Nefertiti had been bitten twice.

 The wounds had closed to resemble pinpricks but knots had formed underneath the skin as the abyssal corruption began to fester. Mistral managed to bypass the unravelling effect of the abyss and grab hold of its resonance. With a slow tug, she could feel the nauseating corruption being removed from her body.

 Though the infection remained present, the corruption had been removed.

 Having met with success tending to her own wound, she moved on. Michael's wound proved to be easily treatable but Nefertiti's not so much. Time and again, Mistral tried and failed to remove the transformative corruption and time and again she failed.

 After several minutes, she finally managed to remove the corruption in Nefertiti's body... but it was going to leave an ugly scar that may never quite heal.


 Now came the choice:

 Head to the room with the man in the chair?

 Head to the room where the flying werewolf heads were multiplying?

 or head to the room slicked with gore and stacked with the bodies of dead synths?

Sal asked the group, "What do we know about our enemy? It's clearly intelligent, to call it monstrous would be an understatement, and it's ready for us. What else? Does it seek to test or tempt us, toy with us, horrify us beyond reason, corrupt us with the taint of abyss, or simply wear us out before overwhelming us with its power?"

Mistral carefully excised what abyssal resonance she could from each of their wounds, then said, "This will keep our heads attached for now, but these wounds will require attention appropriée once this is finished."  She then answered Sal drily, "All of the above, mon ami.  It knows us, and it toys with us.  It means to weaken us by all means available to it.  It recognizes the threat we pose.  It is for us to prove it right to take such measures."

She rose to her feet and looked toward the swarm of grotesque heads, then added, "If any of you have a means to destroy that swarm, then I can prevent their escape.  Otherwise, let us visit the bound man."

Michael shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t pack any grenades this go around. Still we need to stop them now otherwise they will multiply until we can’t stop them. Think about if they got out and started attacking the soldiers top side.”

Looking to Mistral "Do you have a booming spell? she asked remembering something given to her from that Talion and a wish.

"I'm not able to destroy them as of yet, my Faith is not as it used to be. she stated with a sadden expression upon her face.

Michael thought a moment. “Mistral, if you can trap them then I can create a ward similar to what I just did. With them trapped, the ward will make them no more dangerous than a fish out of water. We could then kill them at our leisure. That should work as long as your barrier holds. Should only take a few seconds for me to set up the ward depending on how big the area is.”

Sal said,"I have flashbangs and tear gas. Not sure they would help much. I can try an Emperor's Tear, or two. I believe at least some of them have a blast radius."

Mistral shook her head at Nefertiti's question, "Non.  What I carry would be too great a booming, as you say, for the circumstance.

Michael's suggestion of ensnaring the abominations within his holy ward seemed viable, though the effects would possibly be redundant.  She nodded once to him, then turned toward the nest of horrors and intoned a few unintelligible syllables.  She finished with a snatching gesture, and all at once the swarm of flying heads stopped!  Each froze in its individual place, still snarling and gnashing and spinning, but otherwise suspended.

Mistral confidently approached the frozen hive and walked an invisible perimeter, pointing it out to the others, "Go no nearer than this, else you will find yourselves ensnared as well."  She found one of the horrible severed heads near to the edge of the suspension field and regarded it with disgust as she drew her knife of perfected meteoric iron.  Mistral took up a reverse grip, then casually plunged the blackened blade deep into the captive monster's forehead.

Mistral then stepped back and gestured to the others to destroy the monsters in the manner that would please them best.

Fate steps up to the area Mistral gestured to and in one swift movement aims for one of the heads with the blade of her vambrace.

 The cowardly creatures attempted to scatter as they were attacked. Most of the creatures were snared but 4 of them managed to escape out into the darkness. The remaining 12 were locked in a spatial distortion, rendering them unable to escape.

 Most were not easily reachable from the edge of the spatial distortion, requiring firearms to reach the majority. However, it did not take long to mop up the remainder.

 Looking around for the survivors yielded no clues.

Michael had chopped up some of the closer demons. With the majority of them taken care of, he motioned to the direction of the bound man. “Shall we?”

"Sure these things won't continue to multiply and be a problem later? We should probably finish them." Fate looked concerned, but never took her gaze from the direction of the darkness in which the beasts were.

Sal prioritized shooting the non-suspended ones, with his rifle.

As the four disembodied werewolf heads fled, Mistral gestured after them and spoke unintelligible words... and nothing seemed to happen.  Having apparently failed to work her will, she cursed under her breath, "Merde..."  Mistral watched to see if Sal might manage to pick the creatures off before they could escape.

Something in the air made Mistral uneasy, and she peered beyond the darkness in an attempt to understand what it was.  Traces of the atrocities that occurred here, or something else?  To Fate's concern, she said distractedly, "Will they continue to be a problem?  Certainement.  To abandon our mission for a snipe-hunt would be to play into the hands of le démon, however.  We must return to the larger problem."

If the flying heads were lost and no other immediate concerns presented themselves, Mistral would move to find the captive soldier.

 Sal managed to snipe one final head beast before they vanished into the darkness.

 They returned through the subway tunnel and back to the room Mistral had seen the captive man.


 The room they now entered was a large, circular, empty room with water covering the floor. In the center, facing away from you, was a man in military uniform tied to a chair.


Edit: As you approached, the man cocked his head to the side. "Who's there?"

 He tried turning in his chair but his restraints bound him. As you got closer, you could see that the chair was trapped with a claymore and the marine had been set directly on top.

OOC: now, before I continue, who among you are still in the spirit world and who is in the physical world?
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:44, Sat 12 Dec 2020.

As the group approached where the soldier was kept, Mistral again performed the darkly-echoing incantation to open a shadow passage out of this realm of darkness and spirits.  The portal edged in oily, dripping shadows yawned open and she strode through, then turned to beckon the others back to the familiar world.  Mistral remarked, “I would rather avoid the sea of corruption spirits.  Now we must mind the physical traps, however.”

They came to the large, partly-flooded chamber with a prisoner rigged to explode in its center.  Keeping her distance and remaining behind him, she said quietly, “Bonsoir.  We are enemies of your captor.  How long have you been held?”  Mistral said to the others too quietly for the soldier to hear, “He is rigged to un claymore mine.  Ideas to release him in one piece?”

"I'm afraid my military career concluded before the advent of such technology," Sal said quietly so the man wouldn't hear. "They only fire one direction, right? Perhaps create a barrier in front of it? Or just portal the mine somewhere safe, let it go off there?"

Michael had a thought. “Can he and the rest of us get sent to the spirit realm at the same time to be protected from the blast?”

Mistral considered, and shook her head at the suggestions from Sal and Michael, "A person or object must move through une route des esprits, as through a Porte.  It would first require separation from the man, if we mean to separate him from the explosion.  Perhaps there are other possibilities, however..."  Silent as a shadow, Mistral approached the chair more closely but still out of the soldier's line of sight.  There she knelt to get a closer look at the claymore mine in hopes of discovering what precisely would trigger it.

 As mistral approached, she noticed that the soldier, while human, had had most of his limbs replaced with military synthetics and his left arm had a broken elbow blade (only his right arm was still organic).

 The claymore was rigged to a pressure sensor, set to explode if pressure was removed... essentially turning the claymore into a mine. This room was particularly sparse when it came to resonance, with only the way they came serving as a portal. This seemed like a place to dump off a threat and leave it there.

 The man in the chair half turned and Mistral could see that half of his face had been replaced too and he had a synthetic eye. "Got no idea. Hour? Maybe a few? Caught a pipe to the head and went down. Woke up in this chair. What are you? Lookin' at you's makin' my arm tingle, like it's falling asleep. Not that it's much good now anyway, busted it up when I stabbed that monster in the face. Got some kinda' cloaking tech. Eye lets me see it though."

Michael sees the tech and the mention of an eye that can see through a creature’s invisibility. “Looks like we got a fellow Hunter. Damn good one if he was able to survive. The pressure plates are usually designed to hold weight. If we can place an equal amount of weight at the same time as his release.”

Sal says, "All that hardware... How much do you weigh, stranger?"

 The man still couldn't see the group behind him. "Y'know, even if you say you're an enemy of that monster, havin' so many people behind me I can't see's a bit unnervin'. Any of you mind havin' this conversation face to face?"

"You were clearly placed here as a trap. How do we know you aren't in league with the monsters? Maybe the claymore isn't even a threat to you, hmmm..." says Sal.

 The man paused for a sec. When he spoke next, Sal could tell he'd upset the man. "You really think I'd volunteer to let myself get a Claymore colonoscopy?! Besides, what kind of target wouldn't get blown to bits from something like that? I mean, that monster we fought up top seemed like it had some kind of armor on but even it would feel a bomb up the ass!"

Michael stepped forward out of bravery or stupidity only the future would know. He faced the man in the chair. “I am Micheal. Which conspiracy do you belong to?”

 The man's face was still covered in dried blood from the blow to the head he'd took. He was dressed in full military gear and looked to have had around half of his body replaced with synthetic parts. His armor was military grade as well and had the haircut of someone in the active military. "Michael, huh? I'm First Sergeant John Randall, National Guard. Never been one for conspiracies myself."

"No? You're missing out. Once you get used to talking to mysterious, shadowy people who won't show their faces, there's foozeball and free donuts!" Sal snarks, hoping to make the man strapped to a bomb feel at ease.

As the others conversed with the soldier Mistral approached and knelt near enough to take a closer look at the claymore mine to examine it and its triggering mechanism.    She didn't particularly mind if he saw her, as she remained hidden behind a full mask.

At length, Mistral arose and walked in front of the bound man and announced matter-of-factly, "I have a means to safely extract the mine and detonate it remotely.  Would you like me to make the attempt, First Sergeant?"  If asked for explanation she would say that she cannot explain the method, but is confident that it will work and that the Sergeant will be safe.  Should Sergeant Randall agree, she would give a single nod and then would say to the others, "It should not be necessary, but I would recommend you exit the room and find cover, mes amies."

Mistral waited patiently for everyone to clear out, then said to Sergeant Randall.  "I will begin.  This should take but a moment."  She knelt comfortably a few paces in front of the bound man, well within the mine's danger area, but seemingly not near enough to directly affect it.  There she began to incant strange words of power, while performing a series of flowing gesticulations that were difficult to follow with the eye.  She continued this way for some time...

OOC:  I'll let the GM inform us if this worked or not :)
This message was last edited by the player at 09:54, Sat 19 Dec 2020.

 John smirked at Sal's attempt at humor, though he could tell that the man was still fairly stressed.


 The man nodded solemnly when Mistral made her offer and didn't question what she was doing until he suddenly fell to the ground, seemingly through the chair as an explosion detonated around him and Mistral, sending flaming debris in all directions... but there was no force, no heat, no sound.

 John ducked into a roll and covered his face but looked up quickly to assess the danger around him... but there was none. There was no longer any sign of the chair. John stared at the place where the chair had been for a moment then looked at Mistral, lack of comprehension on his face. He blinked and shook his head. "I don't have the faintest idea what you just pulled off but it looks like you saved my life. You have my thanks."

 He knelt down and hit his thighs, each with one fist, opening compartments in his legs. From his right leg, he pulled a knife and pistol. From his left came a replacement elbow blade, which he promptly replaced. "You got a name?"

The silent flash of the explosion gave Mistral a startle, despite herself.  By the time the First Sergeant recovered she was composed and in control, like a woman who expected events to transpire precisely as they did.  It was the results that mattered, after all.  She inclined her head and said evenly, “I am called Mistral.  De rien.”  Mistral reported to her companions who had left the room over their earpieces, “All is safe now.”

She noticed Randall re-arming himself from an intriguing set of secret compartments, and remarked, “Rather useful hardware, that.  You said that your eye allowed you to see l'ennemi.  What optics are you equipped with, if you do not mind my asking?”  After that she said, “We were briefed by First Sergeant Caraway, outside.  I expect he would be pleased to know you survive, and to hear your report.”

 John nodded. "Series 4 Synthos Multi-Imaging Optics with Thermal and Night vision capabilities. It may be able to hide it's presence from normal sight but it stands out bright as day if you switch rapidly between thermal and night vision.

 If Caraway's taken command, that'll make everything on this end that much easier. Our biggest problem is that it seems to be able to move through walls. We need a way to pin it in place."

Sal came back into the room the moment Mistral uttered the all clear. "Moves through walls, huh? Wonderful." He gestures to Mistral to move back the way they came in, "Hey, lets get out of this room."

When she and John do, he follows, as he says, "So, have you all been able to hurt it at all?"

Michael emerges after the all clear is given. “Sounds to me that it’s going to take somebody putting that thing in a bear hug with blessed items to hold it down. I might be able to tie it up with the rosary.”

"Sounds like a plan." Fate said staying with the group towards the back.

 John nodded and followed the group. He looked around suspiciously as his surroundings suddenly changed but seemed less-than-perturbed about it. "Yeah, managed to stab it strait through the face and out the back of its head. Let my guard down 'cause I thought it was dead. That's when it caught me across the head with a pipe. Then I woke up in that chair."

 He motioned at his elbow where he had replaced the broken blade and then to the spot on his forehead where there was still the remnant of dried blood.

Sal checks each of his guns, making sure they are fully loaded. "Someone ought to take a look at that head wound, eh? Make sure the First Sergeant doesn't have a concussion," he says.

“I’ve means of halting movement, but I can make no guarantee.  Our enemy’s mastery of space is on par with my own, at least.  It will have unforeseen tricks.”  Just as Mistral finished saying this, the door into the previous corridor was opened from the other side by a second identical Mistral, also in the same black tactical catsuit.  That Mistral beckoned everyone through, “This way.  The other claymore mine has been made safe.”  Indeed, there was little sign that mine had been there at all, and all that remained was a severed length of the tripwire.

The replica Mistral led them back through the way they’d entered prior to the subway detour, and toward the entrance to the demon’s grisly last refuge.  The Mistral who had met the soldier disappeared at some point during the journey.  “We are nearly there.  Make your preparations.”  She herself set to work drawing a mystical ward over the area they were about to enter, in hopes of protecting the space from any further demonic tampering.

Sal drew his magic gun, and said, "lets see how our friend's experimental weapon works, eh? Mist, if the enemy has any more hostages, can you get them clear of any potential blast radius? First Sergeant, you might want to shut off your optics when I fire this. No telling the effect it will have on such sensitive equipment."

Nefertiti didn't have much to say as the group got back together and started heading off to the other room.  She wasn't keen to the things of these new times and still had a lot to learn it seems after watching the John and his unseen compartments on his body.  The weapons these people possess were touched by magic one would think if they saw them.

Keeping herself quiet as she moved along but also she wanted to see this Demon so that she too might have a way of tracking it.  Only needs to see it once.

John blinked for a moment. "Outstanding, I expected the Ninja turtles down here but I end up with outlaw star and a french ninja. If we find a Swedish chef and Disney princess we will be unstoppable." He reached down and broke the chair that held him apart pulling up a leg to ensure he at least had a good stick to win future arguments with.

He gave Sal a thumbs up and started walking with a partly crouched step. It made him quiet but was more friendly to rifle use even if he only had the firearm of habit. "Your show. I'm just here to make the grass grow now." A call back to the USMC chant. "What makes the grass grow, blood blood blood."

 John's hand began to tingle when he saw the second version of the woman who'd freed him and said tingling remained until her twin mysteriously vanished a little while later.

 Mistral made her preparations for several moments before entering the door to the last known room. Upon entering the room, the scent of stale blood, ozone, and decay assailed them immediately. In the center of the room, they could see a blood stained altar, though their view of the room was from the back (as the front of the room was accessed from the ladder above where they started this whole ordeal).

 The bodies of marines lined the walls, sitting with their bodies propped up against their guns. This was all that they could see from this position.

 However, Mistral was aware of the closet a little further in the room and to the right where bodies were stacked. The altar looked to have had something on top of it recently, but drag marks revealed that whatever it was had been moved recently... but that was all that could be noted at this distance.

Michael already had his zweihander out with the rosary wrapped around the hilt. He was prepared to engage whatever creature was lying in wait. The priest looked over at John. “Let us know if you see it lurking anywhere in the room. You might be the only one who can see it.”

John gave Michael a thumbs up. "Trust that the first warning I see her will be the siren song of aggressive violence. Trust that I plan on finishing what I started, I got her face and now I want her teeth. She killed my boys so I am going to make a necklace out of her and get some payback." He smiled at Michael, "I look very fetching in revenge rage." Pray Sal saw her first.

Mistral entered the profane temple with cautious steps, and soon faded from awareness like an unremarkable piece of the background.  She approached the blood-slick altar and regarded it curiously, while another of her went to the row of corpses positioned in a macabre tableau.  She said quietly, "After the wolf-heads, I suspect the soldiers are displayed not simply pour la décoration.  We would be wise to separate them from their weaponry."

The Mistral who had taken a look at the grisly altar circled it, following the trail of fresh gore.  A new sacrifice, but of whom, or what?  She tried not to worry about Noah, or feel guilty that she hadn't done more to rescue him from the darkness into which he'd fallen.  He was resourceful and had conquered worse dangers, but that justification felt a bit hollow right now.

Slowly, carefully, Mistral tried to get a look through the door the blood trail led to...

OOC:  Well, there's at least three things that might spring a trap, so let's see what happens ;P

 Immediately as Mistral approached the Altar, she felt her Ward and Ban activate. Sparks of black demonic magic played across the floor and bodies. The bodies twitched and fell off their weapons, as though they had animated for a split second but then fell inert out of their uniform positioning.

 Then the familiar feel of Arcanum filled the air, as if a portal were trying to open beneath their feet... but it felt as though it was unfinished, only half-formed... and reality rebelled against the incomplete will working.

 John's synthetics immediately began to short out. His eye began to spark and burn, his synthetic arm went limp, and his legs buckled.

 However, the pain was short lived and most of the function returned to his body moments later... but he still felt phantom pains in his replaced limbs from the shock.

 A few moments pass and nothing more happens. It seems the trap has been sprung.


 Following the trail of blood led to a closet with synthetic bodies stacked like cordwood... the victims that the cultists had been abducting from the landfill.

"The hell on God's green earth..." John promptly fell over as all of his arguments turned off on him. His body failing him was not an entirely new situation for him. So he pointed with his hand still made of meat at the ladder exit to the room. "There, on the ladder, three rungs up." Then he started counting assuming that it was taking one rung of the ladder every second and a half. "Fourth... fifth."

He was one arm dragging himself toward's his foe, extremely slowly.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:42, Thu 24 Dec 2020.

Calculating based on the timing of John's counting, Sal fired his Magic Gun at where the foe should be.

 The gun released a spiral of kaleidoscopic light as it streaked forward toward the ladder, striking the transparent humanoid figure, filling it with a blinding flash before reversing course back into the gun. The cartridge was ejected out the back, along with the multicolored light which quickly faded.

 The creature's invisibility faded as it was knocked off the ladder and flat of its back on the floor.


For those that can view the spirit realm
 

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
The light diffused into the other side of the twilight, coalescing into an entity of light with multiple wings and faces as well as darker veins of circuitry running throughout. It made no moves currently, instead only surveying itself and its surroundings intently.

---

Thump... Slide... Thump... Slide... John was working his way forward to his target. He had a score to settle and a body that fried due to the use of magic was not going to stop him. "Gotta confirm the kill. It's not dead till you take off his head and burn the body. She got me once playing dead." Die-hard till the end.

Michael walked over cautiously and raised his sword high to cut off its head. “Is it still knocked out?”

Mistral was put on edge as the demonic traps were sprung, but gladly none came to fruition.  Almost-disasters were rather preferable to the alternative, she found.  There was hardly time for outrage over the pile of murdered synths before Sgt Randall revealed the demon’s location and Sal struck it with a round of extraordinary ammunition.  Mistral watched the conjured spirit for a moment to try to assess its nature, and quickly determined whether it would pose a problem.

The other Mistral focused on the fallen demon and decided that the priority should be to prevent this elusive enemy’s escape.  She stepped forward and commanded with deadly calm, “Reste tranquille.”  She performed a sharp snatching gesture that unraveled the fabric of local space, ensnaring the demon in an infinite void just large enough to contain it.

Sal carefully loaded another Emperor's Tear. He didn't trust that thing to have gone down so easily. He was also a bit concerned about what he saw after the last shot.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:55, Sun 27 Dec 2020.

 As Michael came close to the now-visible monster, he could see that it was a woman with dark skin and what looks like welding gear. Her face was obscured by a welder's mask but that was all the time he had to observe before she whirled at him, a jagged, torn off lead pipe aimed to stake Michael through the heart... but her attack froze midair as Mistral incanted her spell, stopping the assault in its tracks!

Randal finally got his legs under him and stood, reaching up to rip a pipe out of the ceiling so he could have something better than what he had. "Fifty cal, C4, big guns didn't work but a knife to the face and a bit of elbow grease did more work than everyone else."

"Gotta beat this one the old school way."

Nefertiti looked down at the being and was a bit surprised to see it was a female.  One so evil needed to be destroyed and never able to return even by Faith.

Looking at the creature she didn't say a word but all could see that she was staring at her.

Trying to drain some of her life force.  As I could with the Synthetic People and seeing if she was worthy of me Draining her Faith. Trying to drain some of her life force.  As I could with the Synthetic People and seeing if she was worthy of me Draining her Faith.

 The group could see Nefertiti stare than convulse once, hard. Then her nose began to bleed!
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:48, Mon 28 Dec 2020.

Sal holstered his gun and drew his katana as he moved closer to the creature.

Nefertiti falls to the ground as she is being ravished by some unseen force.

"No, no you will not ….. she said as she turns her eyes away from the woman.

Michael brought Zweihander down hard on the woman in the welder outfit trying to end her forever. “Oh no you don’t!”

12:47, Today: Michael rolled 4 successes using 14d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 7,8,4,10(+4),9,5,7,5,7,1,5,9,7,3.  Zweihander attack half sword.

Rosary is wrapped around the hilt of the Zweihander if that matters. Damage is increased by 2 if it hits from Half Sword technique

This welder was certainly not the demon’s native form, but if it had sufficient control to channel its accursed powers then it must be ended.  Mistral slipped in just after Michael with flaming blade in hand and performed a precise slash aimed to separate head from neck.

 Michael brought his blade down on the woman's neck and Mistral sliced through the woman's body with her knife... but they both felt tremendous resistance as their blades struck her.

 Even with all the force behind the two handed weapon and the supreme sharpness of Mistral's blade, their weapons barely cut more than an inch deep... and, the moment their weapons were free, the wounds healed back up!

 Michael had to take a step back as the pipe grew uncomfortably close to his chest even in Mistral's spatial snare.

 Meanwhile, Nefertiti's body was beginning to shrivel. Her skin drawing taught and the storm raging within her body in place of her soul lit up through her veins.

Michael dropped his blade as it seemed that mundane weapons were not going to do anything to this person. He unwrapped the rosary from the hilt and spun it like a chain to sling the cross portion of it right at the chest of the welder. Perhaps contact with a holy artifact might do some damage. The length of chain might give him more distance from the creature as well.

08:38, Today: Michael rolled 4 successes using 9d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 2,5,2,6,10(+1),1,10(+8),2,8.  Use rosary as improvised chain weapon.

John looked at Nefertiti when she turned her gaze. "Ill deal with the trauma later." He pointed at her with his whole hand, all fingers pointed in the same direction. "Mocha mama." He then knife-hand pointed to the door. "If you lock eyes and she is hitting you with that stern gaze, break the line of sight. Hit some good cover and get your feet under you."

The knife hand turned and pointed at the villain. "Bout time you got JoJoed." He didn't swing the pipe, he ran up and tried to get a grip. He was dead set on removing that death grip.

Sal ran over to Nefertiti to help her get up and leave the room. He feared that his own presence in the fight might be a liability, as well.

Fate hesitated only long enough for the other two to leave the room, then she struck forward at the beast with her bladed vambrace.

 Unlike before, the rosary did not burst into blue flame and smacked harmlessly off of the woman's body as she struggled against the spatial trap Mistral had sprung.

 John managed to grapple the woman handily enough as Sal took Nefertiti out of the room and back into the subway through the portal behind them. However, Nefertiti still seemed to be in a bit of pain... even if she was no longer writhing in agony.

 Meanwhile Fate smacked the woman with her blades... to no effect.

 Meanwhile, the woman seemed to be growing faster with each second that she was trapped within Mistral's spatial prison. There was no real telling how much longer Mistral would be able to hold her.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:20, Fri 01 Jan 2021.

There should have been nothing in reality capable of stopping the monomolecular cutting edge of Défaiseur, but unfortunately this foe was alien to reality.

Mistral withdrew the blade, quenching the flame with a deft flick of the wrist and stepped back just as her identical replica strode in with hand outstretched and intoning a dark, unintelligible command of supernal forbiddance.  With an intense, icy calm she demanded, “Partir.”  Mistral projected her will against the demon and forced it to be expelled from this host, and left no room for counter-argument.

PM

PM

 As the others struck against the woman to little effect, Mistral tried a different approach... with mixed success.

 As she cast her spell, Nefertiti's connection to the woman was severed and she could at last take a moment to breathe. However, nothing further was purged from the woman.

Seeing as how his blade and rosary had no effect, he pulled a flask from one of the pockets on his vest and quickly made a circle with it around the welder, intoning prayers to a higher power as he held the rosary to his lips. The circle flared to life trying to turn the creature’s power to its disadvantage.

10:20, Today: Michael rolled 2 successes using 8d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 5,5,1,8,2,6,2,9.  Create ward around woman.

That’s enough to create a 2 meter strength 6 ward around the woman in one turn. If it can’t escape, it’s Presence/Power is reduced by 6.

John with a grip on the things arm moved his other hand to its shoulder. He then lifted as he started to try and rip the limb off as the thing couldnt hit the deck to avoid an arm bar. "There is something here on your shoulder pumpkin." Crack! "It was pain!"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:55, Sun 03 Jan 2021.

PM


Sal re-entered the room, katana in hand.

Fate feels a bit discouraged at seeing her blades do nothing, but she quickly brushes it off and goes for another strike. Hopefully this time it won't miss.

 As they fought with the woman, she seemed to become even stronger and faster than before. John's grip on the woman's arm was broken as she wrestled away from him but the stasis around her held... but for how much longer?

 Once more, the woman shrugged off Fate's strike. However, Sal's broke through and he felt considerable resistance to the strike. The moment he removed his blade to ready another strike, the wound healed.

 Michael, meanwhile, throws salt in a haphazard manner around the slowly flailing woman... to no effect whatsoever.

"She's using vitae to withstand our attacks! She's got to run out eventually! Mist, keep her in stasis!," shouts Sal as he swings again.

John blinked. "What in the fresh hell is Vitae?" Once she broke his grip he wagged a finger at her. "Well if you are going to be eyeballing people with microwave eyes may as well do it right. Let's see how much battle damage stuck, gotta finish my facebook account." And then he started trying to get either her mask off or her head off if the mask was already broken off.

The exorcism had thankfully broken whatever terrible draining grasp the husk had on Nefertiti, but physical attacks continued to have seemingly little effect.  Talion's recommendation to deliver devastating damage without regard for overkill seemed to be on point, but would it suffice?  Sal seemed to think so, and Mistral intended to find out.  She answered him evenly, "D'accord.  Do not let up."

The Mistral who had performed the exorcism stepped aside again as her doppelganger returned to drive a flaming blade into the suspended husk's chest.

 The woman did not grunt or groan as her body was struck. Sal's impressive blow should have cleft her in twain but, instead his blade stopped just as he broke the surface of her flesh, as did Mistral's burning blade... and, despite the blade being covered in flame, the wounds from both blades healed near instantly.

 Just then, the woman wriggled free of Mistral's spatial distortion, swinging the pipe once more at Michael. She would likely have skewered him had John not had her in a headlock, trying to pry her welding mask off... but John found that her strength had grown considerably. It was like trying to hold on to a professional bodybuilder as she lifted him off the ground, still holding on to her neck.

 Still the woman made no sound. No grunts, no groans, no heavy breathing... only a silent drive to kill.

OOC: she's free from Mistral's spell but still grappled for now. Despite all the hacking and slashing, she seems to have sustained a grand total of 0 accumulated damage so far.

Fate could not believe how little she was affecting this creature. For only a moment, Fate questioned the strength of her new weapon, being that this was its first real test, but she stopped herself. These blades had to be able to do better than that. They must. So she tried once again this time aiming to stab it in an opening rather than slash at it.

"Fuck me, she's strong." John rotated around keeping his grip and bending his elbow backward in a way it shouldn't bend. He used the room then to get behind the target and wrapped his legs around her hips, his meat arm locked around her neck; the metal fingers digging in and under the muscle of her collar, and the metal arm into a joint lock. John had turned himself into the most inconvenient human straight jacket in the world. He whispered into her ear, "What makes the grass grow? Blood. blood. blood. To hell you ride with a devil dog." He then started aiming to expose her guts to the allies.

Time to bring out the big guns.
7 lethal
Standing control to spin her around and expose her guts for the others
Grabbing the muscles to remove 2 from her strength to resist.
Sealing the breath to start lowering her die pool.

Dice rolls:

"Right kids, you know the game. Don't stop flogging Molly here till the candy bursts out!" For now, he was the stasis.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:31, Wed 06 Jan 2021.

Nefertiti was sure that she might be of some use and she raced in her mind to see if she was able to determine what sort of Demon that was.  If she did succeed she was sure to aid in this battle and not be such a hinder.

Not knowing if she walked back into the room would she be able to take hold of her mind again.  But she had to do something.

With the little silver blade in hand she moved back to the entrance to look into the room but keeping her eyes away from the Demon to see.

07:26, Today: Nefertiti rolled 2 successes using 8d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 7,5,8,1,4,1,3,10(+4).  Wit + Occ.

Sal gives one more supercharged swing at the woman, hoping she's at her limit, as he's approaching his.

Sergeant John Randall certainly deserved points for relentless determination against a foe beyond his understanding, and despite grievous injury.  He had the husk in a brutal hold that looked to be effective, and now that the suspension field was broken there was nothing else holding it back.  Best to bring this encounter to a swift conclusion.

Both of the Mistral replicas twirled their respective flaming knives in a precise mirror image of one another, and one feinted left while the other lunged in from the right.  She went low and drove the flickering blade at an upward angle aimed to pierce straight through a cheek to exit through the top of the skull.

 Each strike was made with the wet thud of blade against flesh... and, like each time before when they had struck, each blade stopped less than an inch beneath the flesh... but this time the wounds didn't close. Despite that, she did not seem to be weakening or tiring, despite the tremendous punishment you have dished out to her so far.

 John ripped off the woman's welding mask to reveal a woman's face... like you might see anywhere else on the street... save for the missing left eye and the scar over it shaped perfectly like an elbow blade stab wound.

 As she struggled, she reversed her grip on the pipe and stabbed herself through the abdomen and strait into John's body, slamming herself backwards against the wall with great force in an attempt to shake him off.

Michael was confused as the incantation didn’t work. No time to ponder it though as the woman wasn’t held down by magic anymore. The mask removed revealed the scar and missing eye. That might be a weak spot!He held his sword more like a spear and drove the blade straight into the empty eye socket that had been damaged before.

10:56, Today: Michael rolled 2 successes using 10d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 4,1,3,1,2,2,8,8,4,4.  Zweihander half sword attack specific target eye all out attack.

Half sword technique adds two to the damage for a total of 4 damage called shot to her empty eye socket.

The pipe got through his clothing, through his skin, and then pushed his hips back as it connected with his dermal armor. "Quit trying to tickle my liver! It's the hardest working liver in the military!" The hand that had gripped into her shoulder muscle went out, around, under, and gripped her hand holding onto her weapon. With his feet, he twisted them but kept place in an attempt to screw with the muscle structure there. "Friggen sheepdog, hot topic goth wanna be, Fruit cake of pain sharing, Dora the Exploah looking Bitch."



Disarm Opponent – If you get one or more successes your character manages to pry an object from his opponent’s hand. Taking possession of the item is subsequent turns is considered the equivalent to drawing a weapon.

1 lethal, cant invoke full damage because of the disarm.
Standing control to spin her around and expose her guts for the others
Grabbing the muscles to remove 2 from her strength to resist.
Sealing the breath to start lowering her die pool now to -2.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:00, Sat 09 Jan 2021.

Running low on resources, Sal struck once again. He hoped the creature would go down soon.

Looking to Mistral
"Are you able to see that?

It is the entity of demonic, and it may be what we really need to deal with.  Can you contain it?

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Pointing to an entity of light with multiple wings and faces as well as darker veins of circuitry running throughout.

---

 As Michael and Sal both struck, they each felt that now-familiar resistance to their strikes.. but, as John wrenched at the woman's hand, the two swordsmen's work finally came to fruition and the woman's knees buckled. She fell face forward on the pipe, driving it further into her and into John as well. Now the woman lay still, face down on the gore-slicked floor.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:15, Sun 10 Jan 2021.

When the husk went down John did NOT let go. He did, however, roll over to expose the target. "Don't stop till you get her head off. Bitch reanimates after you take her down." At least that was what John experienced after poking a hole in her head.

Sal complied with John's suggestion, aiming to sever the woman's head from neck.

Mistral nodded once in response to Nefertiti’s inquiry, joining the queen in regarding the luminous entity that had been cast out of the husk.  “I am uncertain as yet, but I suspect it to be an amalgamation of the souls consumed by the husk, cast from the body and reforged into something nouveau.  I do know it to be très puissant, however.  Very powerful.  Whether we come to opposition with it will be its choice, and ours.”

By then the men had cut down the seemingly indestructible woman monster, dragging her to the ground and doing their best to assure her end.  The Mistral who was not speaking to Nefertiti stepped in and knelt next to the pinned creature and stared at it, watching for any lingering movement or resonance.  At length she said, “I shall assure its destruction.  Hold it still.”

From the satchel slung about a hip she retrieved a smooth black stone that fit neatly into her palm, and presented it as if in offering.  Mistral spoke carefully and with gravity, “I wish for the utter destruction of the singular entity that lay before me: body, soul, essence and corpus, as well as its every sympathetic bond, pact and bargain.”  As whatever happened next happened she said calmly but with an air of finality, “Partis dans le vide.”

 As John held the woman... who, despite not moving, still seemed to be offering up some form of resistance to their blades as Sal worked seemingly in vain on her neck and Mistral offered up her wish.

 There was a moment where nothing happened and then suddenly the creature began to dissolve into dust. Mistral had seen this before... a spell meant to destroy the boundaries between spaces... now used upon the space within the Husk's body.

 The entire process took only a few seconds until nothing remained and the threads of reality formed back into a complete tapestry, mending the hole her presence had left behind.

 John, upon witnessing the result of the wish, was knocked unconscious, now lying face down in the same place the Husk had been.

Sal sheathed his sword and looked around through his glasses before looking at Mistral, with a slight smile, "Thank you Mist. Was this our target, or one of its servants? Should we expect more resistance on our way to finding Noah?" He asked.

And like clockwork Noah had Grey sent a text message to the network, but being that it was Grey she instead took a picture of Noah at Talion's shed. He was sicker than a dog, laying out gripping solid ground like he was thinking he would fall up, and had a small card on his nose that said if he escapes the abyss three more times he got free icecream.

The mirror images of Mistral watched in solemn silence as the creature crumbled away into dust, and reality closed in to reoccupy the void left behind.

One of the pair knelt by the fallen warrior who had grappled the enemy until his last breath.  There was a strange shift in the area immediately around John, and a different floor seemed to phase in underneath him, weirdly superimposed over this floor.  Both that Mistral and John's fallen form seemed to alter in perspective, and her voice sounded distant despite the nearness, "This man requires medical attention, immédiatement.  You.  Fetch First Sergeant Caraway."  Then, one Mistral, John Randall and the foreign portion of floor all vanished like an optical illusion, and were gone.

The Mistral who remained turned to Sal and said, "That was it, though we ought to assure all is clear.  Firstly, however, Sal has brought a guest whom we must meet.  I will open your sight into the Shadow to see it, if you wish.  Any of you."  If given permission to do so, Mistral swept a hand before Sal's face and spoke an unutterable syllable, opening for him a second sight into the shadowy realm of spirits.  She would repeat the spell for any other volunteers.  A message arrived just then, which Mistral checked on her mini-slate.  She stared at the screen for a long moment before putting it away, and breathed a long sigh of relief.

OOC - for those who wish it, granting a view into the spirit realm, where you'll see this described by the GM previously:

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
...an entity of light with multiple wings and faces as well as darker veins of circuitry running throughout. It made no moves currently, instead only surveying itself and its surroundings intently.

---

Mistral turned to the luminous figure and greeted it in an even tone, "Bonsoir.  We mean you no harm.  I am Mistral.  What is your name?"

 The entity looked down at the group, staring at them with its alien features. Where it touched, the corruption pulled away. When it spoke, it did so slowly... deliberately... and, when it did, the world around it changed.

 "And neither do I you. I no longer have a name to give. I was once called by three names... but I can no longer remember them."

 As the creature spoke, the threads of reality hummed a discordant tune, like the strings of an instrument left abandoned for far too long. Faint changes took place around the group... but they were far too small and brief to take note of, existing only long enough to be noted, like movement in the corner of one's eye.

Sal asks the entity, his tone respectful, "May I ask: What are you? What is your purpose here?"

 The entity looked down at Sal, luminous energy pulsing through the dark circuitry like blood through veins. "I know not. I was once three but now I am one. I was once chained but now I am free. You set me free so, for now, I will serve as your familiar, aiding you in such tasks that you might require it."

Mistral tapped her chin and considered, then offered, "Three but now one, with no name.  May I suggest the name 'Trinity'?"

The offer to serve Sal as a familiar was incredible, and Mistral answered cordially, "We oppose enemies of reality like the one that chained you.  It is for Sal to decide, but I would welcome your help to prevent such atrocities as this, and undo what harm we can."  There could be no doubt this was a being of great power, but lacking understanding or memory of itself.  That could be a great boon, but also dangerous... or both.  Grey came to mind as a perfect example of that very dilemma.  Best to keep it close to both guide it and to keep an eye on it.

Meanwhile, the identical duplicate of Mistral searched through the profane temple for anything else dangerous or otherwise not to be left behind for the soldiers to discover.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:19, Wed 13 Jan 2021.

Michael kept his sword in a ready position but relaxed with the immediate threat gone. The analysis of the apparent celestial being was interesting and its make brought certain religious similarities to mind, but he needed to make sure of its nature and intentions first. “We’re we able to vanquish the last of those flying heads or do we need to track the rest down before they multiply again?”

 The creature paused to consider Mistral's words. "Trinity. Yes, fitting."

 As the entity spoke its new name, the air itself let out a wail, almost like the sound of nails on a chalkboard, faintly audible even to non-mages... but near deafening to mages.

 … and, for a brief moment everyone present experienced a brief visual hallucination... much like when one presses together two fingers in front of their eyes to see a third finger, so too did all objects in this horrid place seem for the faintest moment.

 "The one who chained me. Yes, I would aid you against them."
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 12:19, Thu 14 Jan 2021.

"What can you tell us about the one who chained you, Trinity?" Sal asked, unsure if the thing they destroyed could have chained such a being.

Mistral inclined her head to Trinity in acknowledgement of the pledge of alliance.

While Sal conversed with his new familiar, the other Mistral set to work on clean-up.  She went before the blood-stained demonic altar and announced, "This profane altar and the dead synths will return with us to le palais d'améthyste.  We leave the dead soldiers in the care of les militaires."  With a gesture she opened a round portal limned in bright supernal vapor that looked into the interior of a vast violet geode that served as a containment area beneath the amethyst palace.  She then began to work on the logistics of moving the altar and carrying synth corpses through the portal.

Meanwhile, Mistral who had been speaking with Trinity went to the entrance of the chamber and confirmed what Michael said, "Wolf-heads have escaped us, oui.  Fancy a hunt, mes amies?"  When all were ready to move, Mistral led the hunting party to the tunnel down which the disembodied wolf heads had fled...

 Trinity paused as it gathered its thoughts... at least, that seemed to be what it was doing. "I cannot recall. Much of my memory was stripped during rebirth. I do know that the vessel which you destroyed was not my captor. It was my prison.

 It too was a prisoner, caged and treated as a thing to be feared by my captors. I do not remember their faces or names, but I do remember that fear."

"Wonderful," said Sal, sarcastically. "Trinity, we're off to hunt down creatures that resemble wolf heads with wings. Would you please assist?"

 The entity nodded and prepared to follow Sal.

Nefertiti didn't have much to say but she watched and listened to the entity.  It too has been reborn as herself but it seemed to have more of its own power than she has. It seems that this will take some use to getting being in this form and trying to regain what she lost.

Looking at Trinity for a moment to wonder what it might truly be.  A Power of Divinity or a Power of Corruption.

Mistral set out with the hunting party in search of flying werewolf heads, but finding them in the city’s vast underground infrastructure would be challenging, even for her.  She did not use her eyes in the search, but rather relied primarily on mystical senses to cast her sight ahead and follow the trail of abyssal stains on reality.  They made good time, and it seemed they could traverse hundreds of yards of tunnels in far fewer steps than it ought to have taken.

As the hunt wore on, Mistral grumbled in French, “Aiguilles laides dans de vastes meules de foin...”

Michael tried his best help with the search, but he seemed clearly out of his element down here.

Fate had stayed quiet during this whole event. Her eyes had gone wide when the being "Trinity" was revealed, but still she had stayed quiet. It wasn't until it was time to track down the heads that she really went to interact with anything.

PM

 The group headed back down into the subway and back into the sewer. Once there, they scanned for resonance and began their search. Mistral used her magic to help them traverse distance quickly and, after a few hours, they managed to find only one of the flying wolf heads. They managed to kill it in short order but, by that time, the trail had already gone cold.

 That left Noah to return the long way and explain to the soldiers what had transpired.

 Finally, the long day had come to a close and the group was able to reconvene at the island with the nagging feeling that there were a few of these beasts that got away.


 However, as they arrived via Mistral's portal, they noticed that Grey was now dressed in a miniature tuxedo with tails, wielding a bâton and was leading the synthetics in an impromptu symphony.

https://youtu.be/kbJcQYVtZMo?t=16
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:28, Mon 18 Jan 2021.

Once Noah was on firm ground on the other side again he just tilted over and lay sprawled out on his back. Eyes closed, wings back, just laying there to nothing more than the pure enjoyment of solid land while the world tilted. "So, how did it go? The camera only catches so much and Grey's spy nano's are hers to track and not mine."

As the group returned, Grey stopped conducting the symphony (but the symphony itself did not stop or even falter) and hugged mistral around the leg before climbing on top of Noah's side. "We have guests!"

 She pointed toward the door of the amethyst mansion.

 Inside were 5 individuals, only one of which was known to the group. Alyssa was in the center, surrounded by the other four. The first was a giant of a man, nearly 8ft tall and built like a bodybuilder, with a white beard and white hear, wearing red leather with white fur on the inside with black leather boots. He wore sunglasses on top of his head.

 The second was a slender woman in flawless white leather, trench coat included her hair was dark and her skin seemed almost porcelain white. She wore a white head scarf, white rimmed sunglasses, white gloves and white boots... also all leather.

 The third was a humanoid of indeterminable gender, wearing a loose fitting brown leather coat with an olive green robe beneath and brown boots. The coat had a hood and, beneath the hood was the beaked mask of a plague doctor.

 The last... was a golden retriever. It seemed far too interested in the slate in front of it and manipulated the images with far too great a purpose to be merely an animal.

 For those not familiar with Alyssa, she was a woman with blonde hair, pulled up in a tight bun using chopsticks, dressed in a suit and skirt. She looked up as if to greet those that had gathered but did not speak.

 None of them spoke and, of the 5, only Alyssa acknowledged your presence. Grey pointed at each of them in turn. "This is War, Death, Pestilence, Famine, and Alyssa. They came here to sing with us today!"

Mistral stepped out of the portal into the amethyst sanctuary on the sea and peeled off the smartcloth mask to shake loose a mess of white-and-blue hair.  The gloves and boots were next to go, and she let out a long exhalation, finally able to loosen up just a bit.  It had been a long and difficult hunt, but they accomplished most of their objectives and all returned alive.  That was a success, on the whole.  Well, whether John Randall survived would be up to the military doctors and technicians she’d left him with, but he was in capable hands.

Was that music outside?  With Grey one learned to expect the unexpected, but a symphony in full swing was still rather a surprise.  Mistral came out to listen and went to where Noah had flopped out to recover from portal vertigo.  To Noah’s question she answered, “It went better than it might have, let us say.  A number of disasters averted.  Many were murdered, but an Emperor’s Tear preserved some portion of sacrificed souls in the form of an angelic familiar to Sal.  Some abyssal severed werewolf heads remain at large.”  She petted Noah’s scaly dragon head in the way that he liked and added, “What is that American expression bien tournée?  ‘You win some, and lose some.’”

When Grey came for an endearing leg-hug, Mistral ruffled her silver hair with affection and encouraged the elfin godling, “Très belle musique, ma fille.”  The news of unspecified guests set her back on edge, however.  Mistral warned, “Grey.  Your hospitality is admirable, but we mustn’t invite strangers here without leave.  There are those who would visit with ill intent.  Show us to the guests, s’il vous plaît.”

Mistral looked to each of the guest singers with her usual placid glare, and tried not to look too surprised.  She inclined her head to Alyssa and said, “Bonjour.  Madame Alyssa, it is well to see you in good health.”  To the horsemen she added drily, “We have not met, but... your reputations precede you.  To what do we owe the honor?”

 Grey grinned at the encouragement but pouted slightly at being chided for inviting people. "But Father invited them!"

 Once Grey had made her introductions, she skipped back outside to continue leading the symphony.

 Though Grey had said that they came to sing with her, the four synthetics were not singing. Instead they sat at a table in dead silence looking at each other without batting an eye while Alyssa served them tea.

 When the dog/horseman was served, her form turned silver and malleable (in a manner much similar to Grey) before reforming into a young woman of indeterminate Asian descent, wearing a short black leather jacket, short leather skirt and leather boots with black fishnet gloves and stockings.

 Of the five guests present, it was she who spoke. Her voice had a soothing, sultry tone to it. "Likewise. We have heard much about you and this group. whether you know it or not, you have been making a name for yourself among those who know where to look and what to look for.

 We were summoned here by the Master to assist with one of his experiments. We were gathered to make certain nothing goes awry."

Noah gave Mistral a happy rumble when she came close and answered his question. "Any win is a good win. Kind of surprised by the familiar. True angels have dumb levels of power so Sal, you may have a new McGuffin in your pocket... Awesome." He shifted his head side to side as she shifted scales. It was like itching the spot on your back you couldn't reach without a door or a tree. "Sal, isn't there a vampire type that owns the undersize of New York? They could play spot for the heads thing."

He got quiet when the strangers started talking. He started looking into the local network and making a plan. It was about all he could do.

Mistral narrowed her eyes at the seemingly young asian woman that had recently also been a dog.  She did not like this coyness from an unknown guest in her own place of residence.  Not that they could have discovered nor traversed the secret twists of space that concealed her own quarters from discovery.  “I take it that you are such a personne, who knows where and what to look for.  One wonders what these seekers seek, and for what purpose.”

Suspicions were not lessened by the mention of an experiment they’d come to prevent from going awry.  Mistral inquired concisely, “An experiment, and you’ve come to keep all in order.  Do tell.”

 The woman, who had been introduced to Mistral as Famine, simply smiled at Mistral. "No... but I am aware of many who like to sniff about. Hounds each out for the scraps that fall from the Master's table. The world moves upon unseen currents now stirred by your footsteps... and the shadows you cast have become too large to hide.

 As for the experiment, I was not told the specifics. We are helping Alyssa monitor the synth network for signs of stress or overload."

 She held up the tablet that she had been staring at intently this whole time. It contained real time analytic data that only someone experienced in the field would likely understand.

 The other horsemen, for their part, seemed quite intent on staring at their screens. "Don't mind them. They seldom speak to people."

Fate stepped through the portal following the rest of the group. She continued to stay silent, sulking in the fact that she still hadn't caught her mark and at this rate it might not happen any time soon. She was frustrated and stayed at the back of the group hoping for it to go unnoticed. She didn't like showing her emotions too much. To her this looked like a weakness. She couldn't stand having weakness in her. She looked down at her blades and deactivated them quietly. There didn't seem to be a need for them right now.

Noah blinked from his recovery spot. "Right, I should be clueing in the new people." he didn't point or anything, he just lay there. "Alyssa there is a server unit. By herself, she can connect every synth in a city. She is the reason they all act with such uniform precision. Grey is a microcosm of the same theory."

"Synths themselves operate on the cutting edge of the arcane mixed with technology, one of the reasons normal humans cant look at their code. To that note please do mind casting magic around them. They will take that paradox bullet but whereas you are wounded, it rots at their memories unless they have a backup unit installed, and that is rate until I can set up the fabratory for it."

"Synths like me don't count there. It's a mesh but more meat than metal." That tail wapped the ground twice. "Have you lot thought about using an offshoot of blockchain? If you are just sending out one command each processor just needs to repeat the command is they verify it."

Mistral did not like having hounds follow the ripples of her footsteps (or whatever the metaphor), but it was hard to go unnoticed when working with Grey and Noah.  However, a dazzling spectacle served at least as well for concealment as the shadows, she'd found.

Discussions turned toward technical minutiae of this experiment with the synth network, which was a topic to which Mistral could offer little.  She turned to Noah and whispered quietly, out of hearing of the guests, "We have recovered the corpses of the sacrificed synthétiques, as well as the altar démoniaque.  Both are quarantined and warded in the geode vault, at present.  The synths were divested of souls, but I assumed they would be of interest to you.  I will study the altar further, later."

Mistral waited for a time as the discussion of synthetic networks was had.  At some point the pale sorceress was simply no longer there, though none had seen her leave.  She had returned outdoors to take in the performance of Grey's symphony.

 As Famine and Noah spoke regarding the technical specifications of the network experiment, Talion appeared from the direction of the baths wearing a bathrobe around his waist, leaving the fresh reality-riven scars encompassing his upper body unclothed... likely because they were incredibly painful. Many had reopened while he was in the shower.


Beside him, holding bloodied bandages was a woman in a now bloodstained nurse's outfit.

OOC: For those who were in the Memory Lane thread

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
...and she looked like Emily!

 Wait, not quite. Her hair was different and her facial structure was slightly off... but it could have been her sister.

---

 "This is Melissa. When I recovered Emily's memories from the Collector, I found that what I had taken had not disintegrated. Instead, it had transferred into a photographic memory. I took those memories and, using some of Noah's technology, downloaded those memories into a synthetic."

 Melissa placed Talion's bloodied rags in a bucket before giving the group a slight bow. "Hello, everyone. It's good to see you again... or, wait. I suppose this is technically the first time, isn't it? Hello everyone!"

 Talion walked up to the table and Death gave him her seat. He looked at the slate she'd been holding and nodded in approval before turning to the group. "Thank you, all of you, for your aid in destroying the Husk. I thought I had exterminated them all. In any event, rewards are in order. First, there is the monetary reward."

 He placed burner cards on the table, one for each of them. "The Secretary of Defense gives you his thanks. Next, your reward from me."

 On top of each burner card, he placed a marble. "One wish."

 In front of Mistral's card, he places a small black box. "But your wish is simply a replacement for one I had already given you. For you, something a bit more... substantial. Back when Argentus was assisting us, he requested that I create a way for him to converse across dimensional boundaries. As you know, this is quite difficult... so I set up a transmitter that passes signals through the Observatory, into the Stairwell of Gods, and through the threads of reality along the outside of the planar sphere. Coverage is spotty and it is more of a proof of concept at this point, but it should allow you to cast spells across planar boundaries, with varying degrees of difficulty.

 Mind you, setting up the proper infrastructure for such transmitters to be reliable will take centuries and it will not work in subdivided demiplanes like the Collector's museum of Neverland, but it is the best I can do with what I have."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 06:38, Thu 21 Jan 2021.

After politely greeting each of the newcomers and catching up with Noah, Sal mostly remained quiet as the others discussed matters beyond his understanding... something he had grown quite used to. Still, he couldn't help but feel proud at the recognition of what might as well be one of the real Four Horsemen.

Noah flopped onto his back and spread his wings to sun a bit while he interacted with his own virtual private network. He couldnt keep up with the synths but he could act like a engineer on the Hoover dam of data.

When Talion started handing out payment Noah felt guilty. "My share will go to pocket money for the synths starting with Scar. As for the wish..." He sent Talion an email photo copy of the secondary form Mistral designed. The 80% human 20% dragon. It would make going to cons far more easy.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:53, Thu 21 Jan 2021.

Mistral inclined her head to Talion when he appeared in bathrobe with scars on display from wounds that would have obliterated practically anyone else.  At first she assumed the nurse must have been Noah's synth assistants Aly or Bia, but the familiarity struck her on a second glance.  Mist's pale brows rose slightly at Talion's explanation and introduction.  She said carefully, "Enchantée, Melissa.  I am glad to see you so restored.  You look well."  Mistral narrowed her eyes at Talion as she wondered at his motivations for restoring Emily in this way.  He had quite literally moved time and space to undo the contract that had destroyed her, restoring her to life as she was before their meeting.  It was a powerful and poetic sacrifice.  Yet, here stood a new being with a replica of Emily's consciousness, which now served Talion, apparently.  Had Melissa chosen this, or was she reborn with an ambition to serve?  Would she also 'choose' to rekindle the love Emily once had for Talion?  How could it be known whether such a choice was real or programmed?  It was an ethical quandary of synthetic migration of consciousness, at the very least.  Mistral said nothing, but resolved to speak with Melissa later, privately.

Talion thanked them for the destruction of the husk, and said, "Pas de problème.  It was rather intent upon destroying us as well, so it was in our interest to do so first."  Mistral gestured toward Sal and remarked, "You may be interested to meet Trinity, a being reforged from the souls sacrificed to the husk, its prison.  Its memories are largely lost, but it is aware that its true captor remains at large."

Mistral took the card, the marble, and the black box with a slight bow, and made the former two vanish into a place-between-places.  She examined the small black cube and listened with growing interest as Talion explained its truly extraordinary functionality.  Mistral said, "Merci beaucoup.  The greatest of archmagi would call this impossible, so even unreliable communication between realms is assez extraordinaire."  She followed up with a number of concise technical questions that would make absolutely no sense to perhaps anyone else in the fallen world.  Mistral offered to do her part to expand this trans-dimensional network while making use of it, if allowed to establish new transmitters.

Nefertiti was pleased to see that they all survived the encounter with the Husk, but it did leave a nasty feeling inside of her mind to know that whatever it was, was capable of peering into her mind.  Something she might need to learn how to resist better.

Watching as Mistral opened another portal for them to leave she gazed back at the spot where the body was and wondered.

Shaking her head she then entered the portal to wherever it was leading to. a place better than this.

When she saw the guests from Grey's introduction she gazed at them and it was a sight to behold.  She has heard of the four horsemen but never dreamed of meeting them.  Well Horse people for some looked to be of the female nature.

This was all too much for her to understand especially anything about the Synthetics.  A time way out of her reach.

Then that man walked in that was a bit rude and slightly demanding.  Taking a deep breath she listened to what all was being said but she knew nothing about what he placed before them on the table.  More new stuff that she will need to understand and learn.

Noah smiled as Mistral and Sal got their new stuff. He delighted when people he liked got rewarded for a job well done. He clawed at the air moving through the VPN network and was pulling up a video channel so he could see without the world twisting. "Ah, new people, this is Talion. Owner of Syntros. He is the founder of the academy we met at. An extreme heavyweight in the world of the supernatural and a builder by nature."

"He stood tribunal with us when they called a global council about me and the clear indication that magical monsters are real. Out of respect, I'll let you introduce yourselves as some people don't like their name getting out."

 Talion nodded at Noah as he looked over the specs of the new form that Noah wanted. "Merging a supernal and mortal form together is slightly more complex than a full mortal or full supernal form. Once I am done with Sal's sword, I'll set to work splicing the required genetics to make it work. It may take a few days."

 As Mistral asked her questions, Melissa returned with fresh bandages. Talion bandaged himself where he could reach while she tended to the wounds he could not. "Like I mentioned, it's improvised tech so take great care when using it... but it was the only method I could find for non-archmages to bypass the Abyss."

 Once he was fully bandaged, he donned the upper half of his robe and stood, letting Death reclaim her seat. He took a moment to observe Trinity, who still remained invisibly floating behind Sal. "Recombinant Genesis... I haven't used that spell in a long time. Amnesia is a feature of the casting. It wouldn't do to make a new creature just as hostile as the one you were fighting... though I've never used it to mesh three different individuals into one before. Neat. Trinity will be able to aid you in a variety of things, so long as you maintain a good relationship with him."

 Finally, he turned back to those who had only just met him. "My apologies. I haven't had much rest in recent months and my manners are slipping. As Noah mentioned, I am Talion, the inventor of synthetics. I am a mage. Noah, Mistral, and Sal have been helping me take care of the demonic incursion into our city.

 … speaking of. Mistral, when you used your wish I took the liberty of looking around and winding back the clock for a few hours. I got license plate numbers."

 He slid a piece of paper with 7 different license plate numbers scrawled on it in Talion's spidery handwriting. "We may finally have the means to locate them."

Michael had been watching the whole events unfold after he stepped through the portal. His time in the conspiracy did not prepare him for this. The supposed four horsemen were right in front of him. So many things above his head were being said that it made his head spin. So many people of great power all in one place just chilling. His superiors would never believe him. The priest looked down at the card and the wish. Wishes just being handed out like they were candy.

When he heard introductions were in order, he stepped forward. “My name is Michael Lancaster. Pleased to meet you. Anything I can do to help the Synths, let me know. We have a sanctuary for a large group of Synths that were rescued from a cult in the downtown area of the city. Hopefully, they are still safe.”

Noah smiled wide enough to show he was more amused than anything else. "You know me Talion. If you cant do it I would just encourage you to 'surprise me'. I've done crazy things before and you know I am all about interesting developments. It would be nice to fit through doors among other things. But then again I dumped Grey onto my head without asking a question and she turned out to be the world's greatest mascot."

"Do what you feel is appropriate, I trust you."

He flopped over and smiled at the proxy that took on the memory overflow. "Hello there. I look forward to working with you." She was going to need to form her own preference of recreational activity. She would likely be prone to Deindividuation. Amy would also be likely to need the same treatment before too long.

He smiled even wider when Talion introduced himself. "If a Talion is a mage, then a Merlin is a card magician."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:52, Sat 23 Jan 2021.

 Talion nodded and offered his hand. "Nice to meet you. Grey brought quite a few synthetics to this island from some sort of refuge shortly before you all arrived. They were all armed.

 I'm sure you have many questions. I'd be happy to answer any that I can."

Breaking from her frustration Fate listened to what everyone was saying. When Talion offered the card and the marble Fate took interest in them both. She waited patiently for an opening even if only a small one, then spoke, "My name is Fate and yes I do have a few questions." She looked at the marble for a moment. "I've heard of wishes before, but I have never come across one before, myself. What is the extent of it's power? Is it powerful enough to increase my abilities as a mage? Or perhaps, give me the power to capture and bring in my bounty? What exactly is this 'wish' capable of?"

 Talion sat back into his chair. "It is essentially a single use direct connection to me. If I can do it, the wish would be granted. If you want to increase your capacity as a mage, I have many ways to do that... but if your bounty is part of this cult then he'd have been hit by a freak falling meteor by now..."

Nefertiti looked at the others and listened mostly as they gave their introductions to Talion.

At the right moment she spoke

"I am Nefertiti, daughter of Amenhotep I, Lector Priestess of The Cult of Isis. she paused "It is a pleasure to meet you Talion, the inventor of synthetics. her words were of Nobile standards.

"This is all new to me.  My memories are that of my Goddess but I don't feel my connection to her anymore. there was a bit of sadden expression upon her face but quickly replaced with a sterner look.

"Unfortunately, I kind of figured that. Was just hoping that there may still have been a chance if anything. A fool's hope I suppose... Guess I'll just have to get the next one, though I do hate losing a mark. If there is a way I can increase my mage ability in a way that would help me find and capture future marks or help me find magical items for my order I would be most interested."

 When Nefertiti introduced herself as a priestess of Isis, Talion stared at for an uncomfortably long moment before exhaling in a particularly annoyed groan. "Yeah, no."

 He took another breath and groaned again before shaking his head. "Whatever you want, if it involves Isis or her husband/brother, the answer is 'no'."

 After that, he turned to Fate. "As for you, I know of something that may help you. It will take me a few days to prepare. Hundreds before you sought it out and, in the end, all of them turned it to nefarious purposes. So be aware that if you misuse what I give to you, I will kill you without hesitation... no matter what planet or dimension you try to hide in."

Fate didn't hesitate, though her curiosity was piqued. She simply answered with a, "Understood."

 He nodded. "Very well, then choose an Arcanum in which you would like to grow skilled. You only get one."

Mistral took the slip of paper with the license plate numbers and scanned them, one by one.  She asked, “These vehicles gathered at the location prior to the husk’s take-over?  Très bien.  This, we can work with.”  The plates would likely be registered to false names or shell corporations, unless the cultists (or whoever was responsible for that debacle) were comically incompetent.  Even so, it was a lead.  Mistral handed the paper to Fate and asked her, “Madame Fate.  You have experience as un détective, non?  Have you means to trace license plates?”


Mistral listened to Fate lament the loss of a bounty, which they had suspected might be involved in the husk mission, though they’d found no sign.  She chimed in to offer, “I may be able to assist.  Have you anything physical of this mark?  Blood, hair, or similar physical remnant would be best.  Failing that, any token with a bond to the mark may do.  Information on their recent activities?”  Mistral was tired and still wounded from their ordeal with the husk, so it would perhaps be wise not to begin a new hunt immediately.  Planning, however, would be entirely possible.

Oh yes, the wounds.  Mistral rolled up a sleeve and looked at the abyssal wolf-bite for the first time since their return.  She showed Talion, “Some of us were bitten by the abyssal severed wolf heads.  Timely cleansing and treatment would be advisable.”  She paused, and added drily, “We have seen the ultimate prognosis of such a wound.  Désagréable, to say the least.”

She was pleased to see that her Goddess was still well known in these times to even this mage.  For she was the Goddess of Magic.

Not fully sure as to his response to being Yeah, no.  Something that these people must uses uncommon languages.

"I have no intertest of  you in that matter.  It is something that I must do personally.  I'm sure one of your status understands.


Then she had to wonder what did she want from him.

Still she remained there listening to what was being said and if she was able to grasp the knowledge of anything.

"Time. I think that would be the best choice for now."



Fate took the paper and looked at the license plate numbers. "Yes I might know someone. We'll have to head to the police station."



Fate thought for a moment, "I may not have anything like that on me, but I know where I can get it."

Looking still at Talion "I was told that you might be able to help me unravel something.

I am at a lost as to what I truly am, and trying to find someone who might know is not an easy task.

So I was wondering would you be able to aid me in this matter? she asked.

Michael holds up the marble and offers it back to Talion. “I wish to become the fastest person that has ever existed.” He was uncertain as to whether such a wish could be granted, but he had seen what many would consider a miracle happen today.

 Talion took the marble from Michael with a raised eyebrow. "The fastest man that has ever existed... very well."

 Talion didn't say or do anything else but Michael could feel his body growing lighter.


 To Nefertiti, he stood up and took a closer look at her. "Let's see...
 That's interesting. I wasn't aware one could spontaneously generate a soul facsimile using a vampiric curse, residual faith, and raw essence. I'll have to make a note of that.

 To answer your question... if I were to have to pick a category for you to fall under, it would be 'demigoddess'. Your animating force is not Animus like most living things. It is not Anathema like a vampire, nor is it prime like a synth. Your animating force is Faith, the same thing that fuels the power of angels, demons, and gods.

 You are not a created being and you are not a true god born of essence and desire. Instead, you are a mortal imbued and animated by faith... a demigoddess."

Nefertiti took a moment to absorb the information that was being given to her from Talion.  It was a lot and she knew a bit about some of the things he was saying but still she had never imagined herself as being a "Demigoddess".

She bowed her head to him with respect to his knowledge.

"Thank you Talion. she said as she thought.

Looking over at the others she wasn't fully aware of what she was but now they were aware and could understand more of how she was capable of doing some of the strange things she does.