A Conclusion of Forbidden Gods [OSRONA V. EBONBLOODED]

[Moloch]

Slow though imperturbable come the afterglow of a failed assault upon their foothold on Tarian, the forces of Osrona - as led by the newly appointed king - march in attendance to Stellus Silvia's crusade.

Hail, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy,
Hail our life, our sweetness and our hope.
To thee do we cry,
Poor banished children of Avalon;
To thee do we send up our sighs,
Mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.

Their minds steeled to a faithful mantra, their hearts red and blades sharp. Catapults in tow move by their lonesome, for mysterious gears twisting within give traction and strength. A siege, to lay waste to their carcass; to topple the Obelisk of Naysien for once and for all.

Turn then, most gracious advocate,
Thine eyes of mercy toward us;
And after this our exile,
Show unto us the blessed fruit of thy faith, Astya.
O clement, O loving,
O blind mother of spring.

A stoic, young king peps once, stately and idealistic words:

"We've not started this war,
though end it we will."

TARGET: NAYSIEN'S COAT
OBJECTIVE: THE DESTRUCTION OF THE OBELISK; 

TERMINATION OF THE EBONBLOODED.

[Milly]

"At this point I'm so tired of watching you humes repeat the same things over and over.
Does it not get boring? Tiresome?
Something something definition of insanity?

Try something new for a change."

The Herald peers down upon those catapults that are being put into position, with winged ebony drakes soaring over head.
He does not balk in fear, nor does he hide from the oncoming siege in their attempts to destroy that which is most precious to him.

No...

In his growing madness, he seems to welcome it.

"Come, little boy king. You'll have front row tickets to the finest show in the land:
As I destroy Faustus' sword in front of you all, for Naysien."

The Remnants of the Ebonblooded prepare themselves for yet another stalwart defense of the Coat, and most importantly, the Obelisk itself.

OBJECTIVE: DEFEND THE COAT(?)
DATE: 6/10
TIME: 6PM EST

[GracefulAoife]

"Come."



"Bring every man, soldier, magi, and war-machine at your disposal."

"You may summon a thousand platoons from a hundred nations. You may incite upon Kraus himself. You may plead with Eos to aid you. You can even call upon hoards of undead or demons. No matter how grand you remain nor how far you fall to desperation it will not matter."

The self-proclaimed prophet echos many of the sentiments of the Herald. She stood atop the mountains, watching over the coming siege with an air of purpose about her, as if she had been waiting for this moment for years if not her entire life.

A rotten and decrypted book upon her belt to compliment her increasingly worn revolver, the stench of occultism and sin drifts from her more than ever before. Her very presence turning stomachs and causing weight upon the shoulders of others.

"You will never touch the alter of Naysien so long as I live. So long as my legs remain able to carry this burden you will never know victory."



"For I will kill you all myself."

[Odd]

Osrona's march has been declared for a few weeks now, and with it comes word from the High Keeper himself.

"Mercy is a compassion shown to those who are the least worthy." 

'Our victory in the next battle is unavoidable, and those who remain will be extended a hand of salvation, as well as a fair trial. And, on the day of the conflict, not only will Naysien's Obelisk be destroyed, but also where my father failed? I will be successful.

Don't think for a second that I've forgotten what happened. My father died because of you, because of your blindness. All he wanted was to turn you in, to redeem you. However, it appears that a fresh start is no longer a possibility for you.

Justice shall be served blindly. And when I enter the battlefield? I'll be looking for you, Emerson. Do come, and prove that you're not the coward everyone thinks you are.'

[Moloch]

the skies turn clear

her spectral wingspan vanishing come the shattering of the obelisk.

herald emerson lays dead at the feet of the king of osrona, 

the tip of urias plunging cleanly into his heart.

the first light fights back

with the last of her avatar's strength, naysien immolates the entire coat,

making the hip height of tarian inaccessible - pure molten death.

and with it the remains of their late dragonlord disintegrate.

dawn brought upon the ravaged mountain

though there are scarce cult survivors from the siege, 

they struggle to regroup without her voice.

the north has been ended.

my only regret in all of this

is that we've sent you all to hel.

i have been there before.

and it is not bad enough,

not for you.