[Fern]

This thread will have event announcements for the last public bits of the plotline I've been running for a while now. All of the events in this thread are publicly accessible.

You can also read the previous recap threads to be kept in the loop/context of things if you desire, but it is not mandatory. They are listed below:
 
RECAP 1 THREAD

RECAP 2 THREAD

CALM BEFORE THE STORM THREAD

FINAL ARC

---

  
CHAPTER 1: A SCATTERED MOMENT

"The time to draw your weapon has come. Do not hesitate. Fight... it is the only choice left."

 

From Karaten to Chaturanga, Kysei territories bustle with life. Adventurers sharpen blades, ready supplies in preparation for the final assault upon the Black Falcon-- it's heart, Castle Leistung. Men and women gather for glory, for looting, for the bounty on the 'Kings' head.

 

In remote spaces from prying eyes, a group has been witnessed bear an insignia with a bright, white spear. Rumors state it to be those aiding Cerin Rachal, and are ex-falcon soldiers. A group ready to act as the vanguard spear and penetrate the fortress with insider knowledge.

 

And within Chaturanga, stands tall in wait the Makhai Corps and its Black Knights. At the frontlines stands a pack of men and women, a small group under 12. The Kings Gambit takes a stand. Both led to battle by their General Kai Izumi. An old face familiar to many in the army awaits within Leistung's heart. Ready to be the primary force taking the brunt of its assault for the others to infiltrate.

 

All converge with a final goal in mind all the same; the Black Falcon will fall. Then Strega, shall be next.

   

OOC INFORMATION

  

Date: Sunday, June 13th

Time: 4 PM EST

PVE: Yes

Event Character PVP: Yes

Player Character PVP: Optional

Raid Bosses: Arael Schlager (Fern), Lieutenant Teleftea Statis (Hanzo)
 

Miscellaneous: Once Arael Schlager is defeated, players will have the option to either take his life or try to bring him out for any reason (I.E saving, wanting to give him a particular punishment, etc.) You will be allowed to fight each other for your choice if you desire. This does not change anything but the ending- this will be his last appearance. This is completely optional to do.

 

As per usual, the parties that are interested in fighting the raid bosses can enlist with a 1d20 Roll (performed by the Party Leader only) in order to determine the order of teams fighting that enemy. Anyone not fighting the bosses can choose to fight mobs or watch, as always.

 

The location of the event space will be shown the day of the event itself. Anyone can enter and participate if they'd like.

 

Credit to Ignatius/Stenzio for writing the IC text above.

 

BONUS: GOOD BYE, MY FRIEND

 A recent conversation in regards to the incoming battle...

 

"That was a pretty good wine, party boss. Good taste... as always."

  

---

  

 

CHAPTER 2: PRELUDE TO THE FINAL BATTLE

"This is the price you pay for being a meddlesome swine."

In Kysei's corridor did battle wage. Blood stained, black smog writhing from every inch near and far, sundered apart by blade. Where once stood the bastion to the Black Falcon becomes hollow, and its 'King', no more. Men lost from Karaten, to Chaturanga, to traitor white lances who besieged a place once called home, to the common adventurer with various desires at their helm. The casualties small from combined effort, for the operation boded well. Dead though few still mourned whilst being laid to rest by family and friend alike. In the end Arael Schlager and those loyal under him were brought down in mass. Whom remained after his death, in majority laid down arms to come peacefully for interrogation, or tried for any crimes had. Sorrow raked winner and loser whom left Castle Leistung's heart. What happened within left for those to tell the tale, for the moment, it remains in their minds and hearts.

 

The victory foreshadowed by a lingering horror now left for them to handle. Cornelius Schlager gave show to wrangled control over Mother, the Dusk Queen; she whom birthed the Grief Parasites-- the 'Dusks'. An artifact wrestled her underneath his will, and the pair flew out crashing through Castle Leistungs ceiling to make way for the final act. Any ready to stop his escape? Forced to fight the infamous Executioners whom stayed to solely bide time.

 

Where the pair have gone? Remains under question.

 

Rumors have led insinuation cast upon Alstalsia, where stories have grown rampant. Tales of countless being laid low, slaughtered, or worse taken under the canopy of night never to be seen again. What ghost stories spin foretell a description resembling the Executioners, in foreboding. Paranoid, scared masses there speak of one village in particular being stalked by one. A good portion of residents have already fled for safety in fear for what's to come.

  

Whether this all yields truth or fantasy, one question waits to be answered from this madness newly brewing as the final chapters await to be written...
 
What is this all supposed to mean?

   

OOC INFORMATION

   

Chapter 2 is going to be a series of mini-events leading up to Chapter 3, the final event. Most of these mini-events are intended to be fully publicly accessible, but they're also meant to be small, so don't expect anything TOO big! Just several smaller things. The first mini-event I'll be doing in regards to Chapter 2 will be in around Friday, June 25th at about 5:40 PM EST, somewhere in the Alstalsia overworld (you'll know it when you see it.) Credit to Ignatius/Stenzio for writing the IC text above! It is recommended to read the Calm Before the Storm recap's Executioner segment linked at the top of the thread if you haven't already.

 

---

 

 

 

CHAPTER 3 (FINAL): LEGEND

"I have rejected my humanity and obtained a power far beyond mortal comprehension!"

  

Ominous figures, dressed in pitch black with singular red eyes have been appearing all throughout the world in remote locations, visiting small villages and homesteads to preach of a 'day of judgement'. They claim that anyone siding with a vague 'Him' will find freedom and salvation from this miserable world, while any who oppose 'him' will be cast into eternal flames, banished or killed, never to return even to the Maze of Lazarus. While they target remote areas and small isolated gatherings, they have occasionally been caught and apprehended, though they provide little to no additional insight, even under pain of torture and interrogation, nothing but mind-addled homunculi down to the last.  
 
Those who have been keeping up with the current ongoings of a particular organization would realize these preachers seem to be speaking about Cornelius Schlager and his plans to break into the Godly Stage and seize true power. The reason that these preachers were sent out is unknown, perhaps a challenge to any who might oppose him, or maybe simply to strike fear into people's hearts.
 
All that matters is that in the coming days, Cornelius will soon make his move, one that he blatantly advertises to all. His dreams, his goals, his life's ambitions have all lead up to this singular point, and all the world will be the audience to his actions upon the Godly Stage in a story that's been retold for generations, and now Cornelius has brought about a new cast of actors, with himself set as the star for a brand new retelling. Whatever the cost, whatever the price, it all ends here one way or another.

   

This is the end... the final showdown.

  

OOC INFORMATION
 
Date: Saturday, July 10th
Time: 7 PM EST
PVE: Yes
Event Character PVP: Yes
Raid Bosses: Cornelius Schlager (Fern), Mother (Dystopia)

Rewards: 5,000 Murai, 500,000 EXP

 

Miscellaneous: This is the final battle that wraps up the plotline I've been trying to finish for 4 years. There are a few things that are very important to note:

  

1) Those enlisting to fight Mother will follow the usual standard raid boss system. Party leaders that want to fight Mother will have to roll 1d20 to determine their turn order in the list.

  

2) Those enlisting to fight Cornelius, however, will not follow the same formula. Instead, I will be deciding the turn order manually, allowing those that have been the most involved with him to have their fights be the last ones in the list. This is merely to perform a better narrative, and anyone that hasn't been overly involved with Cornelius can still enlist for him so they can fight too, of course. I will be going off party leaders when deciding the turn order. However, anyone fighting Cornelius must consent to major injury risks being likely, as he will be a Demigod and it's very unlikely one would get away from a battle with him unscathed. This does not necessarily mean your character is guaranteed to lose an arm or a leg, even if it can happen, but more so consenting to the IC that you are battling an extremely powerful foe.

   

3) We request that you please do not bring IC alts to the event, so as to not accidentally give you a reward twice.

 

4) It is highly recommended (not obligatory) that you bring potions and food.

 

5) As a heads up, the event will likely be long (probably 4 hours minimum.)

 

6) Mother and Cornelius will not be fought in the same area, because Cornelius will be in Zera's God Grave. Those that want to enlist for Mother will do so before anyone reaches Cornelius. You cannot register for more than one raid boss in this event.

  

7) We suggest turning off your Marching Bands if you are about to fight a Raid Boss, as they have their own songs!

 

8) The event area will be a map of its own located within the Alstalsia overworld. You cannot go past the gates until we say it's time!

 

9) If we ask you to pause your posts for narrative downtime (I.E we're about to post an important narration), try to refrain from filling up LOOC too much while that happens. We'll let you know when you can post/talk as normal.

 

10) If you meet a HP threshold against Mother or Cornelius, your party will have a 1 round grace period to emote retreating (this can be done individually.) Anyone that stays will face IC consequences. This is in part so other people can have their turn at the boss.

    

With all that said, have fun. Credit to Dragonruby for helping write the IC text above!

[Fern]

EPILOGUE

---

   
A triumphant cheer overcomes the Great Six.

  

As news flows from the Heavenly stage, Zerans across Alstalsia rejoice regarding the final eradication of the threat to their most sacred of holy sites.  Toasts in the shadow of Bycoast's statue guarded battlements, quips in Fairweather about adding to the Begrabnis der Gotter, and jubilee in the streets of Evenstar, all under the auspicious, starlit skies that announce victory.

  

Further afield, the Empire finally breaths a sigh of relief, men stand a little straighter as they leave their homes to work their days, emboldened by news that the last twisted remnants of the Falcon were put to rest. The smile of children? A little brighter, perhaps.

  

The news even comes to reaches further out, the mountains the Phenex call home, the frigid town of Hyoya. Even a few Kael of Egwyn hear of the news from incoming merchants.

  

Cornelius Schlager is dead. The Black Falcon and Strega, no more. The Godly Stage having been host to a great battlefield of power, light and sound as those within it fought valiantly, losing many but securing the fate of not only Alstalsia and the Promised Land, but the entirety of the Great Six.

  

Yet in spite of this, not all are pleased.

House Echor and Zelag have moved promptly to seal the Keeper's Terrace, no longer permitting access to the Heavenly stage, and to conduct a thorough investigation into the means by which this threat was able to bypass the numerous defenses of land, sea and air that existed to prevent an intrusion.

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

    

  

Regardless, for most...

The story had finally come to an end, and they could know that their part, big or small, had shaped the history of the world.

 

OOC INFORMATION

  

The Black Falcon/Strega plotline is over.

 

You can post in this thread with an aftermath of your character if you'd like. You can write about what they've been doing ever since the final battle wrapped up, their thoughts on everything that has transpired, etcetera. There's no need to worry about formats - feel free to be creative.

 

Credit to the participants for the pictures above. Thanks to Whitender and Detty for helping fix the recordings as well as DerpyMcPandos for the IC text!

 

Thank you for coming to my events, and thank you to everyone that has helped get them going.

[Whitender]

Hour 6, 1/12/359
End of the Chaotic Suffering
OOC Note: Do know this is John's Perspective outside from God's Grave in their own Path. And John's Part time Aftermath. Due to some Plant allowing me to do.
But it might sound kinda dark, but it's his own way. Please don't read it if you don't want to get spoiled unless you want to become John for around 13 minutes of insanity.
Yes this might be flawed, but anyways uhh.. Enjoy reading this even it doesn't make sense.
POV: You are John but you question your life from start to here.

---

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nV_NHvEEVvw
"Man, it's finally over, that I am proud of our friend's workload against terrorism."

John said to himself while following their same lifestyle of their ghostly happiness while traveling under their own path to where they are going, blinded with the future only. Nowhere to see. But the truth itself

"Though it feels off at the same time. Friends lost, friends obtained. And even the ones that causes wars."

"At the same time, if only I had fought against Cornelius Schlager, I would protected out friends from this crisis."

He would stopped. As they think to themselves, as their possibly mindset is telling the something.

(N̴e̸v̴e̴r̵ ̶t̸h̵i̸n̸k̵ ̸y̴o̷u̵ ̸a̷r̶e̴ ̵a̶l̷r̷i̶g̵h̴t̴ ̵J̷o̶h̶n̸,̷ ̵Y̸o̷u̵ ̸a̸r̴e̶ ̵y̷o̵u̶r̵s̸e̷l̴f̸ ̶b̸e̷c̸a̶u̸s̵e̷ ̵y̴o̶u̷r̷ ̸m̵i̷n̶d̷s̶e̶t̵ ̶i̴s̴n̶'̶t̸ ̶f̸i̶n̴e̴ ̶a̸ ̴t̶h̸e̵ ̶f̶i̵r̴s̴t̶ ̷p̴l̸a̸c̵e̴.̵)

"No wait, if I died for my friends there, Sigrogana would then be in danger. And no more Miracles for my friends, thus it equals out."
For a small thinking process, they remind themselves back from the camp.

"I should do something better for myself, though Prosthetics sounds fun to study."

"Yea, I gotta do my studies! And a Celebration too! But I might need to make more plushies of myself."

(More memories, More Happiness for others. Right? RIGHT?)

Then John had to do one thing for themselves, Summoning out their Guillotine Blade to themselves pointed to themselves.
Prepared to aim to their face with a minor scratch under a clean cut! But not too far to the neck

Spectre Man takes 77 Darkness Damage! (Goodbye (Guillotine))

*̶S̶t̶a̷b̷*̶

John would do that one scratch to themselves, blood to remind themselves of what he would endured to their face.
Pointless, but in a sense that no one will understand out of nowhere, leaving a reminder.

"Now I feel happier. Just like my old self from a long adventure, to lecture and possibly! Uh, making a Family..."
"...If only I didn't drag myself from there."

And so, John Continued on to spread their wisdom. And under a Puzzled Mindset of Society.
Quited at first, but changed their mind and kept going for what's best before terror grows again. But not for long...

 “Every Enduring Fighter, will always have a way to change Society”
“Proud of Everyone. E̶v̸e̶n̶ ̷o̶u̷r̷ ̷e̷n̴e̵m̴i̴e̸s̷ who did for honor.”
“But I'll never forget what I had to do.”

“And I am myself, John.”
“John Etherbound.”

John would said those thoughts to himself, trying to keep being positive as they make their way out completely to Alstalsia, and to the Mageguild.
Crying internally from their happiness, and then screaming from their forever fate of lost souls that their allies died for our Inner Rage.

[DerpyMcPandos]

North of Chaturanga

The Deal:

---

Flowers are blooming.  The wind is blowing.  A temperate day awaits not long after the fall of a demigod, granting a moment of peace to those warriors who'd pursued him.


One such Warrior sits in a wheelchair-  Pushed by an attendant to meet with a dear friend and comrade in this path.  Despite his injuries, his permanent losses...  A lack of function in three of four limbs-  He found relief in the result they'd earned.  In a moment so tainted by death and suffering...  He felt released.  Seeking to share this moment with one who'd sought their foe just as long as he, his attendant brings him ever closer to a vineyard in Northern Kysei;  Seeking a man in white.

The trek through the Estate was an easy one, a well tended for and manicured demense. Though naturally, some difficulties were presented in scaling the wheelchair up the marble mansion stairs to the 2nd floor.


The Ashen-haired man awaited, a leg splinted and bandaged, sat in a cushioned chair that had been carried out onto the air of the semi-circular balcony. Next to him, a small round-table, with a few wine glasses and a bottle of Greywald 345 Red, a rather prized year's vintage. His crutches were left to the side, abutting a marble railing as he quietly surveyed the Kyseian countryside.

The Shaitan looked about, but in fact, it was his friend escorting him that spotted the reason for their visit, first.  They approach, a word is given....  And as the shaitan parks at the round table, his attendant departs for a moment.  No time is wasted as he leans one arm onto the table.

"...Walter."  He speaks.  "I wasn't sure you'd talk to me, now that our work is done.  I'm glad you invited me today."  The shaitan has a hint of an amused tone in his voice.  "...Kinda amazing that it's finally over."

"Well," Walter grabbed the bottle, a grimace to his features as he tightly worked the plug, before it comes off with a faint pop. "I could have not bothered, but I'd be remiss to have not."

A hand raises the bottle to indicate its state to the Shaitan before him, as he then settles the opened beverage back on the table. His eyes go to the fore as he speaks next, "It really is. It was messy and beyond our control, but we still did it."

Maksim turned a smile ahead as the man spoke-  Turning to face Walter, instead, as the beverage was set down.  "...I think we did right by her.  A lot of things are still unanswered, a few loose ends are hanging...  But honestly?"  He lifts the bottle, pouring out a generous serving into two wine glasses.  "I'm alright with that.  The three of us took him down."

With the wine poured, he placed the bottle back down.  He didn't go to grasp the glass immediately, though, instead coddling his bandaged left arm with his right arm.  "I imagine you'll be quite a bit less busy, now.  What endeavours are you embarking on next, old friend?"

The Alabaster Wanderer brings his hands together, not yet taking the glass, but letting his digits intertwine in his lap. He tips his gaze up, giving a slight sigh. What would he do now? He had performed illustriously throughout his time, in medicine, as an adventurer. He had entered the hallowed ranks of those who could claim to have killed a demi-god with some veracity.

"Well," The Alabaster man notes, head tipping down and smiling,  "For me, at least. I have a wedding to plan for."

"Do you plan on continuing your Corrupted philanthropy?" He'd then turn, querying.

The Reaver leaned back, satisfied enough with the man's answer.  He, himself...  Had been steadfast about his plans, but the man recognized that was in good part due to his simplicity.  "Make it a good one.  I'm sure more than a few people are excited to see you get hitched."  He snickers.  "At the very least, settling down should keep you out of my bar at two in the morning."

"Of course I will.  As long as the Dark Zones exist, and as long as Iahsus hangs, people who need me will exist.  Many won't take it from me-  And many more still, will find their own path or be picked up by someone else.  But as long as I live, I plan to give a home to any Corrupted who needs it."  He takes the wine glass...  Tentatively sniffing it, before tossing back a good sip-  and giving a good "Ahhh~"  After swallowing.  "...To us a certain someone's words.  I suppose it'd be 'my life's work'."  he gave a low-pitched chuckle.

"The locals have a word for that, Reason for being, I think it translates." Walter chimes in, he finally grabs his glass, giving a soft, subtle scoff himself.

"Ah...." A wistful note escapes him, "Remind me of the last time we talked about building homes and life's works. That dark spot in Alstalsia's wilderness. Back then I called you a fool or something of the sort, didn't I?"

"Ahhhh...."  The man smiles, thinking back on that time fondly.  "I remember that.  I believe you did...  Not that I ever disagreed with you.  You know, She told me that being an idiot was my strength."  He chuckled.  "...You were never all that clear about your 'reason for being', so to speak."  He turned forward, looking at the vines about them and sipping gingerly from his wine.

"...Man.  I've really caused you quite a bit of trouble, thinking back on it...  haven't I."  The Revolutionary's smirk only seemed to widen as he said that, though-  thinking back on all the times Walter's had to reign him in or pull him out of trouble.  He came to look back on the man dressed in Alabaster.

A nod, followed by a wave of a hand, "Mine? A story for another time."

"And yes, that you did, Maksim. Dont forget for a second that I remembered your actions. You're only loyal to yourself and your goals." He takes a draught from his own glass, "-You even courted the Falcon for the hope that Arael would institute a system that would give the scions of the Hanging Star an inch more recognition in the Empire."

"But...You're making me forget the point, Maksim." He'd look over, a grin drawing on his features, "After what we saw, I'm slightly more inclined to believe your goal isn't as foolish as I first thought." He would watch expectantly, a more measured gaze hidden by the smile. The offer was being laid.

"Now, now~  It seems like it worked out in the end, and my membership was quite beneficial to you in many ways, wouldn't you say?"  He hummed at that;  Truly an irredeemable man.  The world had never truly uncovered the specifics of his crimes-  Nay, the story many were told is simply that he was a 'suspect', and that he was apprehended for miscompliance after killing the criminal, Abaddon.  Walter would be one of the few people who knew the details of this man's deeds.

"...But, I'm surprised to hear you say that."  He raises an eyebrow at the man.  "I suppose we know it's not impossible...  But you always seemed too strict for such a thing.  Too straight-laced."  The Shaitan tested him-  Determining if this was something real, lain before him.

"Well, everyone has their wants, their dreams, no?" Walter adjusted how he sat in the chair, a sniff as he took in that summer air, "I have one, one that I'm free to pursue now Cornelius is nothing but stardust."

An exhale, "But, I cant do it alone, so I suppose you I'm asking you a favour, You help me, I help you."
The glass extends across the gap between them, an offer of a toast, "How about it, one last adventure?"

"..."  A silence came over the man.  He turned away, frowning properly for perhaps the first time in a while.

"...You know, I never thought of myself as an 'adventurer'.  I kept people safe by exterminating pests-  And made good money for it.  That was my job."  He takes a short sip.  "....My adventures...  I don't intend to travel far from home much, anymore, unless it's something I can get done in one big trip."  He glances towards Walter again.  "...I'll support you.  And when it comes down to it?  I'll be right beside you, backing you up.  But if this turns into a goose chase, I'm leaving you on your own.  Got it?"  He waited for an answer to that...  Before raising what was left of his glass to the man.

A slight shrug, but the smile didn't leave Walter, "If it's any solace. I'll be gone and out of your hair by the end of it."

"Cheers, Maksim."

"Ahh, that'll be a little boring...  But alright.  Cheers."  He clinks his glass to the man's.  "...To victory."

[MakeshiftWalrus]

Everywhere across the lands, the people of Alstalsia looked to the skies. Hundreds of thousands of eyes, finally reunited with the prospect of hope as the gentle streaks of light raced across the dark above, like sparks from a grindstone set against metal. It was the mark of victory, to the people. There could be no doubts in this sensation that their people had remained strong, and seen their tribulations through like their duties had required of them. Duty, that had seen the majority of those send dead, or permanently unable to serve from injury.

One life, bright, and powerful did not return from the battle. Anne Krank, the Signifier, had given her life in the battle against Cornelius, ensuring their troops remain unwavering against constant threat of the ever-rising number of monsters. They found her kneeling against a still-standing banner, her one remaining hand still attached to it, forcing it upright. Even in death, she had refused to yield, just as well as most of the troops that she had commanded.

Over the next few days, she would be buried near her home in Dragonfield, laid to rest upon a bed of thousands of white, and purple flowers, ever, and always remembered.

And yet, despite the cheers the survivors received when they returned from battle, not all was well in Alstalsia.

The defense had been a failure.

The Dominator's throne had been reached, this was a fact.

The Arbiter had spent the next several days looking over reports with the High Council, and several more in intense dialogue with them. When the meetings finally came to a close, a decision had been reached that all parts could agree with: Arbiter Kraus, and the Sturmuhr would be no more.

The Nest, the headquarters of the Sturmuhr would begin a rapid disarming of their collected war-utilities, and each clan would collect their equipment to return to their own lands where they could once more be used. War beasts rode in long caravans for territories beyond the walls, and finally, soldiers began to depart from places they had almost called their second home. Dissent was a given after what had just happened, but the former Arbiter himself quelled most doubts.

It took but three weeks for the monument of unity to be completely abandoned, standing as a testimony to Alstalsia at its strongest, and also at its weakest.

And so the closing chapter of the Sturmuhr came to an end, dying along with the foe they had fought desperately against.

[Autumn]

Awakening I hear the sounds of a climatic battle, the muffled shouting of a worried comrade, I can understand them, they call my name out, as well as the Mercalans nearby.

It feels as though they healed my wounds, so why can I still not open my eyes? I exist here in pitch blackness, steadily listening for any sign that the conflict was over, with a few cheers
it would appear as though it were. I let out a sigh of relief and call out for a status check, my comrade says that with some great effort we appeared to have made it through.

I lay back against the nearest wall for rest, I feel exhausted, I can barely move any muscles and it feels as though my insides are rotting away. I suppose this is the price I must pay for
what I subjected myself to, those thoughts invade my mind once again, the ones just before the decision that would assure my doom:

"You control a power even the gods once feared, you still have a chance, do not hesitate, Aryan."

It was then I decided I would throw everything away, now I remember. I'm sorry my love, I have made a very foolish decision, I promise you I will make it back to say my goodbyes, as
soon as I can open my eyes to see you again. As soon as I can open my eyes, I re-iterate this phrase over and over, but they still won't open, I feel over my face one more time.

My eyelids are open, my fingertips trace over where they should be. They're still there, I realize now just how doomed I was. I lay there, apparently the skies are lit up by starfall,
I laugh quietly to myself as my comrade heavily worries over my condition, I am unable to see whatever this star-lit sky is, the bright future that I risked everything to assure. I'll never be able to see it.

To fade away into nothingness, that was and always has been my fate, who was I ever to try and deny that?

[Maksimum_Fire]

PART 1

At a construction site in northern Kysei,  one of the self-proclaimed 'heroes' that brought down Cornelius rests, licking his wounds.


Almost deflated, he'd seem-  As though unsure of where exactly to go, what exactly to do, now that his quarry had fallen.  The end of an era.  With nothing to distract him...  His mind could only drift to the fallen.

Those true heroes- or villains, in some cases-  who he admired deeply, who he'd sought to support, who he'd aspired to stand beside.  Delusions of grandeur had carried him to where he truly walked alongside them-  But now, he found himself as a last man standing, of sorts.  When all the wings were cut off-  Only he'd remain.  Only he had escaped final judgment.

...One such man he mourned, throughout this week, had climbed from nothing- aimed for the same lofty heights that the Reaver had.  And achieved them.  He was inspired by that hero-  No, that legend of Sigrogana, and done all he could to push him, to aid him along the way.



Now...  That man was lain in a casket.  He who was left behind couldn't find anything poignant to say...  Simply mourning the death, the loss, of such a man.  With the sun's waning, so too did his energy...  And he fell to sleep.

PART 2 

A few days later...  He who was Left Behind awoke with a start, at the crack of dawn.  Loud thuds were heard just nearby.  He pulled himself together, grabbed his gun, and went to investigate.

...Everyone was safe.  Nobody knew what'd happened.  No assailant, or burglar seen.  But, still nobody knew from whence the ruckus came.  An unnerved feeling came over him as the Reaver began to search.  He came to the casket his friend had recently lain in...  And noticed a disturbance.  The lid had shifted just slightly off.  Could that have been the noise?  He approached, staring into the coffin...

The Reaver was struck with disbelief at what he saw.  He brought a hand to his mouth...  Mind racing.  Even with all that he thought about, he could only utter two words...

"....It's empty...."

[Ozionian]

So. It's finally over.
We can rest, if only for a time.

If only.

The World is one of chaos. Despite the fall of a Demigod, danger still roams the world. The lives of innocent will continue to be threatened. 

Despite everything, we must continue fighting. But not all can continue to fight.

In a song and dance that changes the course of history, lives were lost in the blink of an eye. From soldiers one may never learn the name of, to close friends that fought for their lives. 

Never forget their names, please.

But what if one could not remember?

For an Ancient Knight by the name of Seron, the gift of life was torn away, if only for a moment. 

It was their life goal to protect innocents. They would have gladly thrown away everything. Throw away everything they did, throwing themselves in front of a Brimstone Witch in a desperate effort to protect the Mage of Fire from the onslaught of Cornelius. The Knight was torn apart.

In an act of defiance against the Demigod, they had attempted to shield himself against the final blow. Despite a successful parry, the raw force of the Demigod tore past the Knight's shield, cutting into the old set of armor, reverting them to a pile of smoldering armor.

For those familiar with Dullahans, they are beings of pure willpower.

With a touch of luck, and bounds of resilience the Brimstone Witch he attempted to protect threw away their image, their energy, preforming a forbidden ritual. Whether the ritual truly worked, or if their focus was given to the Dullahan to allow them to hold on may never be known. 

With the immeasurable healing prowess of a Mercalan High Priestess, the Knight was dragged back into the world with a burst of sulfur-smelling fire and a cacophony of agonized screams. 

While the Knight may have been lucky, granted a third chance to live, all miracles come at a cost.

The gift of memory was stolen away, reverting the Dullahan to a simple state of mind. Memories, friends gone from their mind, reduced to a Knight with a burning desire to protect the innocents of the world.

Despite the misery of losing the gift of memory

Other poor souls were not as lucky.

Seron may not remember their names for a long time, but perhaps one day these beloved memories of names and experiences may return.

But for those lost, returning to the world is not an option.

~

For those lost in the Divine Struggle on the Godly Stage.

Remember their sacrifice.
Cherish the gift of life.
There is no guarantee you will see it to it's end.

[Kyro]

"Still can't believe that it finally came to an end..."

Those were the words whispered by the man under his breath as he came to a halt, looking over his shoulder to gaze at the sunrise to remind him of the future that everyone worked for, the wind furling his coat and the flowers he kept carrying in his hand. But he had to go, pressing the grass under his boots as he resumed moving forward and let the sun warm his back, hurrying to reach his destination once he recovered from the decisive night just enough to stand up. For once the man looked exhausted, but a content smile behind his scarf was still present with each step he kept making, his muscles still feeling sore and begging for rest.

But he didn't listen to his body, the goal set in his mind and unwavering against his fatigue... till he finally reached the checkpoint he aimed for. A graveyard full of blooming flowers revealing all of their beauty to freshen this noir place, pressing forward as the dull click of his boots against the checkered tiles resonated throughout this place along with the waterfall keeping this place alive with sounds as the gray haired man reached the site, two statues standing tall, one of a fully robed, masked individual as he came to it first, kneeling before it as he reached with his hand into his coat's pockets, pulling out a doll which resembled the statue, but it was hard to discern for the amount of cuts, bruises and just how ragged it looked, several inscribes of some notes along it's back, the only one being 'Return to him when I'm ready to be one' recognizable enough from the many it had. His hand struggled for the few brief seconds to contract it, pressing the doll against his chest as he gave it a small hug with a coarse sigh coming from the giant as he sets it down on the pedestal along with one of the bouquet he prepared while adjusting the few rocks which were there for a while.

And no words were shared with the grave, just a small gesture of his head bowed down, pressing his forearm along his own chest in sheer silence for a good minute as the man pushed up onto his feet once he was done, his soft smile returning to his face as he looked up at the statue one last time before he turns to the side.

Each step was growing heavier to make... till he faced the second statue, the resemblance of a man in a chataran uniform standing confidently to gaze up at the sky, he dropped to one knee with a loud thud as the martial artist sighed out loud, his eyes falling down to look at the pedestal which was decorated with some badges of a long forgotten academy, battered and worn down to time. He was one of the few last standing to roam and continue doing their duty. And one of them could be considered finally done, the man's arm lowering down to set the second bouquet on the pedestal along with the badges as he spoke up weakly under his breath.

"I did all I could there, even if I didn't go for the greater threat... the younger ones had it handled, they had the strength they needed, even if it came to a cost of some lives being ended abruptly. Not everyone can be saved, that's what he told us in the beginning of our teaching. But the more important matter regarding for us is that... She is finally dead... they were avenged."

His words came with a struggle by the end, his fingers squeezing onto the bouquet as he chuckled weakly... before it began growing louder, punching his chest with the side of his fist as he pushed himself back onto his feet, the strain and fatigue that he had seemingly to be gone for that brief moment as he had one of the biggest smiles he had on his face.

"But that's not the main reason why I'm here! I did it! I was able to keep the promise! I WAS ABLE TO GIVE THEM HOPE IN THE HEAT OF THE BATTLE!"

His voice echoed throughout the graveyard, yet the pitch of his tone still kept growing, pushing his vocal chords to their limits MAXIMUM! Looking up proudly at the statue's face as he continued shouting.

"And I'm going to continue keeping it! They still need someone to depend on! They need a pillar to lean against! Someone that gives them the feeling of that everything is going to be okay because I'm here! So continue resting, you deserve it... father."

The last word was hesitated at first, but the fighter came to an end to finally say it out as he bowed his head down to the grave, a tear rolling down the man's face as he turned around to fix his scarf as he began finally heading away, leaving the two graves in peace as he uttered under his breath a few last words.

"What a nice morning for it to be raining."

[Blissey]

The news of Cornelius Schlager's ascension to demigodhood, and his prompt execution thereafter, did indeed reach the ears of the Church of Mercala in Lispool, the faithful, and the town of Lispool as a whole. Even so far as to reach Lispool's sister city, Hyoya, did this news go. Although the Church did not immediately address the novelty, eventually was a statement released -- an in person announcement not provided by The Voice of Mercala or Bright Vajistra, but by High Priestess Mavis Haemin. 

"It is true that the events that transpired upon the holy grounds of the Keeper's Terrace -- the Godly Stage where Zera was felled -- did happen. It is of great importance that this not be kept secret from those who were not present, for in the end, the tale would permeate through history. I have lived very.... very long, as many of you are aware; and never have I witnessed so much folly condensed into one man -- though the hubris... The hubris I have seen it time and time again, and I have seen the results. The results in which came ten fold, the demise of Cornelius Schlager, dreamer of usurping the God of Domination's power. It always ends the same way...

He was not chosen. This would not be a tale like Ryart, the Gold Dragon, whom with the love and pity of Our White Lady did he rise to deliver a definite blow to Zera. Cornelius was a fool, utterly drunk on his own machinations on how this world should be seen, viewed, and operated. He thought becoming a despot would solve so many intrinsic issues; that he could control all. Our White Lady does not agree, for She knows hegemony is one way to lead us mortals to damnation, ruin, and squalor. For She knows that binding us and vanquishing us would cancel all that mortals have worked for, all that we of the Church have worked for, to better this world. Cornelius thought he could challenge this, and we answered. Not just the Church, but everyone answered.

Even with Our White Lady guiding us, and this world, through Her scions -- we, the Mercalans --, we must remember that we live, ultimately in a mortal world. And that we operate via mortal means. And that although Our White Lady's blessing is great, She recognizes that we as mortals must rally together and help each other grow -- buttress each other in the face of inimical adversity and dangerous callousness. That we must answer the call when it comes, to better the world, ourselves, and our neighbors. That we must be tempered, patient, kind, loyal, and true. That we must not solely depend on divinity, but also on one another-- that we should look to divinity when the way must be shown, for that is how we as a people evolved and learned all we know. That divinity exists to guide, not to stifle, not to subjugate. Our White Lady would never wish for such a time to pass where Her children would be castrated from the freedom to make mistakes, and learn from them -- to grow. To be pressed under an unyielding, unforgiving thumb. To be capitulated by complacency.

Our White Lady is known as a peaceful, merciful protector -- but even She recognizes that such mercy has its limits, and no amount of mercy is enough to repair an indelible scar upon this world and our people if such evil is left to age.

Let it be known that we should all learn from Schlager's mistakes -- his greatest being his own complacency in pursuing that which is divine so churlishly. That we should all learn from Strega's foibles. That we should all seek to abjure the vindictive virulence of Black Falcon, that we should abate the innermost evil that seeks to seduce our hearts. That through conquering our worst personas can we blossom and proliferate into that which is holy -- into that which is love, and progressive for this world. And that Our White Lady would not have it any other way. And that Our White Lady would not wish to stifle and control, but guide and nurture. That free will, not one governed by a false god just as flawed as we, is imperative to our continued ascension into that which Our White Lady believes we can become.

A people who loves each other, seeks to keep life sacred, and our future bright. That manifests in countless ways, and no such ways exist under the rule of a despot.

And let it be known that no such power that Cornelius thought he could wield would ever manifest properly in the hands of those not chosen or anointed. For such power has only ever truly manifested in the sacred Mehana bloodline -- in Her Radiance, The Voice, in Bright Vajistra, and in those Our White Lady has chosen to help better lead us to a path away from the darkness that seeks to cloister the light within.

He was doomed from the very moment he ever dreamed of grasping divinity and becoming its master.

Heed not the example Cornelius has set for the world to see. Heed not his hubris and misplaced pride, his utter dishonor upon these lands -- upon the Alstalsian people. And heed not the possibility that such beings like Schlager seeking to eclipse this world and restrict all that grows here, all that is, would not be dealt with.

And remember: this hubris, this sacrilege Schlager and his co-conspirators caused... All due to complacency. Complacency that which should be curbed. Complacency that must needs be brought to a heel.

Praise Mercala. Blessed be."

The address would not end with any cheers nor special proceedings -- just a reminder where true divinity lies, and what the consequences could implicitly and explicitly be if one were to try to overplay their hand and rely too keenly on that which should never be taken for granted.