#toaunlockedcatacombs2021

[aurheatum]

bletsian

@gricencchos @verseandrhyme

So this was to be the stage Rion chose. Her memories, as vast as they now were, still held nothing of his shape except what had been initially shown to her. No matter. She would just have make sure to memorize his dying moments, for that was often the only measure of a man.

Stepping into the pillar of light, Rhea catches the concerned gaze of Seteth and the lowered eye of the Mitama. She opens her mouth to say something but in the next moment there is nothing, white, and in the next after that she stands in the void with the rest of her charges missing.

“So,” she says instead of whatever would have fallen out of her mouth before, “he has separated us yet again. Stay close.”

Up ahead comes the laughter of a child. Her scales are a white, purer than even Rhea’s own and her eyes that crinkle in delight the shade of her father’s pelt. She is speaking but Rhea is not listening.

How much of a fool did Rion take her for? She had mistaken the faceless ghost in the catacombs for her sister, slipping on its blood. But this. So vivid and real was the happy family before her she knew they could not be true. Her son would simply have to step up his game.

“Rion!” She shouts. “It matters not how many forms you choose or what manner of deceptions you display. I will tear the truth from you if I have to,” her eyes narrow and her gaze falls upon the light dragon, heedless of the tiger’s roar of outrage, “let this be the first judgement.”

Rhea rolls a 5 to hit Leto, miss.

Charging forward, Sword of Seiros raised, Rhea aims for the soft underbelly of the younger illusion but as the dragon flies, feathers ruffled in surprise, she sees to look of fear in her eyes. That was real. 

Her sword rings harmlessly off of the tiger’s claws and Rhea thinks perhaps Rion has done a bit better than she first had given him credit for. Gricenchos takes a swipe at her with his other hand and Rhea is pushed back, wincing at the tear in her shoulder.

A particular set of skills, discovered!

When Gricenchos is >= 50% HP, all attacks and counterattacks directed at Leto are absorbed and countered by him with +2 damage dealt

“I shall not miss again,” Rhea breathes out, “and if you want to be the first to fall then so be it.”

[aurheatum]

For every order she gives the shadows they fight against provides them an equally united front. Ignatz has run short of his luck and Rhea tries not to look back his way as she dashes past Hana and Henry. This was what he had trained for.

(Hana stands tall, ever stalwart despite the the fact it is not Rhea who is meant to be her guiding star. And Henry for his part laughs in crimson whether it's his blood or the sick ichor of the enemy.)

"Stay down" Rhea shouts as she leaps in time with the dragon rider's lunge. Her sword and its axe both sing through the air but neither finds its mark. Rhea lands and turns back to look at the battlefield, eyes blazing.

Whoever these enemies were they were certainly not divine or perfect in nature but could she and her students outlast them. No, it was not a question they could dwell on. They would. They had to.

@ignatzlandscape

those closest to the light

ignatzlandscape​:

Ignatz felt like he was on the top of the world with his performance lately. He felt invincible, like nobody could touch him. He confidently drew an arrow and quickly fired it at the Sage.

1d20 + 2 = 8, Ignatz deals no damage to Shadow Sage due to its Serios Shield

“Let me paint you a-” Ignatz’s shouted as he fired the arrow, stopping as the arrow bounced off the Sage’s shield. “Darn, shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up…”

The Sorcerer takes advantage of his disappointment, and fired a blast of magic at Ignatz when he wasn’t paying attention.

Shadow Sorcerer deals 2 damage to Ignatz (8/10 HP)

Ignatz was knocked back, and he slowly got back up and readied another arrow.

@macawbre

Rhea wasn’t in good shape. He was already having a hard time keeping his eyes on all the kids scurrying around, let alone the head of the church. What would a chicken do without its head, anyway? Run itself into the ground? “Hey! Someone spot for her before she goes down! Rhea– Don’t die until you’re dead!” He doesn’t manage to utter the tail end of his sentence before it’s curtailed by a flash of healing light, unsealing the might of her truest abilities… and Mitama’s good eye.

“I’m telling ya, Mitama, you’re a juggernaut!” He thrusted out a salute in her direction before making a full pivot. Had to duck out of the splitting sparks from a sage only to get caught by a double-up from the sorcerer. Oh ho! Looks like they were out for blood too! This could get interesting… Pulling his weight, his hands parsed threateningly, prepared to strike the wyvern rider off his saddle— yet in a stroke of his own misfortune his aim was thrown off. And the moment his arm lowered, the sage rocketed down a bolt of lightning towards the crown of his head and hit him squarely where he would burn.

For a moment, his vision blurred, as the pain from both spells forced his fingers to cripple in sheer agony. “Haaaa!” His laughter, then, was barely that. By whatever force was keeping him up, Henry faltered on his feet, as the crackling darkness picked up clouds of dust and blood. A beggar, he was not. A chooser, he also was not. Shifting like shade, he made way closer to a healer who could clear the spots in his vision. 

Ignatz ate dirt too, it seemed. “Ignatz, hold your head on~!” By the dead and unknown, it appeared as though their section had very well committed to plummeting like stars. A failure by any other man, but on his name he knew this was far from failure. They were fighting for their lives—failure was no longer a sentiment that could played on the board. So either they died successfully or lived successfully. They had no other choice.

Attacks the SHADOW WYVERN RIDER with Mire, but misses. Both SHADOW SAGE and SHADOW SORCERER come in swinging with their spells, dealing a combined 3.5 damage, bringing him down to 4/10HP

“Kill me dead next time! Don’t try to-” THROB. THROB. “Pluck my feathers one by one!”

HIs whole face convulsed, delight and affliction straining the entirety of his being. The exertion was beginning to smart! Breath laboring, Henry shook it off for another round of struggle. Because when it came to war, that was all he knew. Wrestling by the hands of fate, and for what?

Henry breathed in.

To bite the hand that fed him, probably.

@sheerloyalty​

[aurheatum]

those closest to the light

@ignatzlandscape @sheerloyalty @macawbre

When Rhea had first suspected Faolán she had assumed it was information the cardinal thought improper to share with Rhea at that moment not this (whatever this was). That spell Faolán had used, and her words “the will of Saint Seiros” - indeed, she thought wryly, if she had not so recently seen her own blood she may have been tempted to check if it was still there.

(It’s there, she thinks. But is it, can it, change?)

Still, whatever name she goes by, whatever banner she flies, Rhea was made for war. Her students know this reality as well and so when they are so rudely warped out of the catacombs and into the gray backdrop of Garreg Mach’s outer defenses it takes them little time to form teams once more and strike back against the invaders.

Rhea would determine who and what these invaders were at a later time, right now all that mattered was that her sword struck true and that she was here to defend and lead. Four shadowy figures - different from the phantoms of before - face she and her students and Rhea runs ahead to strike at the one in a mockery of bishop robes. The strike lands but not deep enough for her to keep her opponent where she would like and when she pulls her sword back she is encumbered by the magical and physical blows of a sage and wyvern rider respectively.

Gritting her teeth, she shouts over to the rest of her group: “stay together! Do not by any means let them separate you.”

[aurheatum]

crusader’s mantle

@missiletainned @ceaselessblade @alfvangr @verseandrhyme @resurrectionpact

Rhea had been hopeful that Seteth despite his lack of fondness for the Church’s automatons may have been able to keep the children under his protection away from the sentry golem. She had not been anticipating one of those children purposefully antagonizing such a creature.

From there, it is a flurry of action on her part to get over to the other party as soon as possible. While they have already started running from the golem’s path one student in particular remains standing in its danger zone be it in some foolish show of chivalry or better placed fear. 

Owain has not yet drawn his sword, however, and Rhea pulls him by the arm out of the golem’s way, shoving the boy behind her as she does so.

“Stop this at once!” She shouts up at the golem. Though it is not her own it should respond to the crest inside of her and the truth of her heritage, and so she continues, emboldened: “these people are allies of the Church and you need have no quarrel with them. Return to your station at once!” 

The golem’s red tinged gaze settles on her for a moment and Rhea meets it in full. Instead of agreeing to her terms, however, the red it in its eyes flashes and a moment later it advances on Rhea stating not only is she the threat that there is malevolence within her. Rhea is almost too shocked to be riotously incensed

Almost.

(The feel of the mark on her neck tightens as if it means to strangle her.)

Ordering Owain and the others to retreat she joins them this time in their mad dash to outrun the golem’s trajectory. Behind her, she hears Seteth’s scream and forces herself not to look back until the children ahead of her are safe. When she does Seteth has barely managed to pull himself out of the indent in the wall he had been thrown against. The golem, content that Seteth is not a problem, turns on them all.

“How dare you,” Rhea intones, drawing her sword as Tibarn attempts to take the thing by surprise. The hawk king is swatted away but takes the attack without falling from the air and Rhea uses that moment to strike with Seiros’s blade.

[roll to hit, 19! critical!]

“Thou who wouldst cause destruction in the goddess’s name, in Her very halls, fall!”

As she leap to strike with her sword Rhea felt the familiar thrum of the crest in her blood and knew her blade would strike true. The sacred sword cut a line in the golem’s armor and Rhea did not again waver from its gaze even as it struck out at her in retaliation. A paltry attempt, she could and would manage.

“Everyone! Surround this failure of a guard!”

[aurheatum]

nothing is thicker

The world shatters to pieces and in this new white light of nothing (of everything that has been and will be and could never) Rhea thinks ah.

Not because it feels right - no, nothing about this is right; but because she finally was cognizant of what exactly she had been missing.

If she had not so recently seen her own blood she may have been tempted to check if it was still there. How laughable she had been.

She wonder vaguely watching Rion as he smiles, hand toying with the flower most sacred to Sothis, if perhaps she would have preferred him pilfering it from her corpse. She knows she’s died now, in any number of ways (and yet, in only one form - her true one) though the details still remain hazy. It does not matter, really, in the moment, she knows its only her stubbornness that has kept her alive this long rather than the good will of others.

Still. It is fitting for a failure like her to be killed by one of her own children. Funny, she used to be so careful with every drop of her blood. There are accounts since WIlhelm that count every spillage but Rion, son of a saint and unwanted child that he is, she does not remember.

Rhea’s crown has fallen but that only makes it easier for her to touch the gift of oppression he has left her with. Hm. It was so easy to hate the force that she felt tore her apart from the final resting place of her mother.

(”I heard her voice here,” Rhea tells Seteth in every timeline, eyes shining, desperate, and the one thing that connects all those incidents is how truly sad her brother looks when she says it.)

But she had birthed him, in one way or another. Any twistedness in Rion merely reflected that of herself.

Oh, but that did not mean she could not hate. That was her wellspring, her constant.

The world slides back into place and the others are still huddled around her. Hana’s sword remains fallen on the ground. She’s almost surprised to see them, and cannot seem to muster any more emotion than that. Well, perhaps for the best.

Clean up. Contain. Cover up. One of those was sure to come in handy. It’s just as well some of the students she walks past are ghost unto themselves. She needs to speak with Faolan.

[aurheatum]

Of all the people she has set out to find this day, Lady Rhea must certainly be the most difficult! It takes a watchful eye and no small amount of wandering for Maria to find her opportunity, and when she does, she gladly seizes it.

“Lady Rhea!” An idea pops into her mind as she trots over to the archbishop, sprinting a mischievous smile to her face the closer she comes. “I have something for you!”

With a flower held in a curled fist, the little princess clamps her other hand over it to make for it a small cave— or, perhaps, to hold it like a snowball! She giggles happily, revealing the fabric creation for Rhea to see. “I made good luck charms! If it’s okay, would you please take one?”

All of the students have already begun preparing, even her own cohort for their assignment which could hardly be called a true excursion. Still, Rhea fears, such actions are necessary and she has done her best to make herself or one of her most trusted attendants as available as possible, particularly for those going so far north and west.

When Maria comes up to her she expects a question about Sreng or something related to her trip trajectory. She does not expect a gift. Despite this when Maria beckons her closer she bends down to meet her at eye level and lets her gaze fall to a familiar clasped hand.

Maria will be going into those snows again, but this time not to take her ease.

“A good luck charm?” She says, letting nothing but interest show upon her face. Holding her hand out as Maria had once showed her she watches as with a flourish the princess of Macedon produces a hand made flower brooch of fabric and held together by inexpert stich. Nonetheless, once Maria deposits it into her waiting hand Rhea holds it as if it were a treasure.

“I - of course I will accept your generous gift, Maria,” she says, standing but still holding onto the fabric flower. “I fear I have nothing to give you in return, however, besides my prayers for you and your teammates’ safety.”

There is one thing Rhea supposes she can do, as paltry as it is. Gently she affixes the flower to the front of her stole and shows it to Maria. “It is very well suited, thank you.”

Rhea is not proud of the mark so obvious upon her neck but she does not hide it as that would be unbefitting of an archbishop. This change in attire, at least, she can be proud of.

[aurheatum]

"Rhea!" He raced through the bloodied area, almost as if it were mocking his own memories. Hadn't he done this before?

Running towards someone he desperately needed to find alive, crossing through wounded and dead, the stench of blood and fire assaulting his lungs and the raw guilt from allowing some to get into harm's way?

Except now, the harm had been him. All of them actually, fooled by an unknown entity's schemes, but his heart was especially heavy at it.

He could've killed Rhea.

"Rhea...how-" Did she experience it too? The flashes of memories- or was it Seteth's own mind crumpling in on itself? "...are you okay? Did you...?" Did you see it too? Emerald found a lone sword on the ground nearby. Someone had died.

He tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. Part of him wished to just not care anymore and hug her- risk having others question their relationship and, possibly, their identities. No, be mindful of your actions. The sigh that came out of his lips was slightly shaky.

"Seteth," Rhea responded, looking up from where she stood tying her hair back. Faolan had made such a fuss the last time she had shown even the slightest hint of dishevelment and with the loss of one of her hair ornaments it really made more sense to have the lily in the back.

She walks the last few paces to him, curious. He’s running to her across the hard, black rock of the Oghma Mountains but so soon after the world splintered it is as if she is seeing him in fractals. An infinite amount of Seteths, infinitely running toward some goal. The same goal? She did not know about those other Seteths but Rhea was at least relatively sure that in the now this Seteth and her wants aligned.

“I am unharmed,” she assures him and then frowns, following his gaze. “Hana though... I was unable to protect. That I cannot forgive. Your group also seems to have made it through and for that I am glad.”

She tilts her head at the sudden contact. She supposes it is not odd - she has seen many students and faculty huddled together for warmth or comfort. Looking into his eyes, however, there are questions there she cannot answer. This time it is not even that she does not want to. As she is now, she is simply unable.

“I am taking some of students back to the infirmary and plan to meet Faolan there. Our forces remain spread thin, I am afraid, so if you would like to stay here I would not object.”

[aurheatum]

"Um, excuse me." She nervously approached the archbishop before they set for the catacombs. "My name is Tine, I hope I will be of use on this mission." She gave a small curtsy. It was a little nerve-wracking to be going on this mission with someone so important. She hoped she wouldn't be a disappointment.

The group she and Seteth have decided upon for the expedition into the catacombs had gathered in fits and starts before the official meeting time. Rhea herself had been waylaid up until the last moment whether by officials in the Church who would for the first time be without her or Seteth, or the more talkative members of the little group she was joining now.

So it was only right for Rhea to turn her full attention to the needs she may have missed here while away. When the Golden Deer student hailing from Grannvale known as Tine approaches her Rhea makes sure to give the woman her full attention.

“Tine, of course. The Church is indebted to you for your service. Just having you here is a great boon, I assure you.”

Rhea bows, hands clasped together in response to the woman’s curtsy and when they have both straightened she gestures to the hall before them.

“Is there anything I can provide for you before we venture further? Please know I am honor bound as archbishop to support all the students here.”