❪ event ❫ hour of ruin

[natha]

HOUR OF RUIN     Sometime after midnight, after preparations have been put aside in favor of drinks and rest, a thunderous beating of wings shatters the air — the High Dragon Ysverai, once again risen. The sound echoes high off Namarak Mountain, but travels easily to both Wyver and Olympia: scream after scream rends the still night, as though a creature were dying rather than being born again. Having only had days to plan their defense against the creature, Olympia and Wyver snatch up their arms. The Royal Guard and the Knightryders can be seen on their steeds hurrying through the cities, because Ysverai doesn't remain isolated at the mountain's peak for long. There are pictures of Ysverai in abundance throughout both cities, but the creature that circles in the sky looks nothing like the majestic creature spoken of in history books. Even from far below, wounds and lacerations can be seen marring what should be smooth scales, and blood falls with every beat of the dragon's wings. The damage becomes more clear when moonlight illuminates Ysverai, revealing the rotting dragon for all to see. The sight of flesh peeling away and thick blood where it oozes from his cracked, greyish hide is as frightening as the power he possesses. REASON'S TRANSCENDENCE     Mad from the anguish of his forced revival, Ysverai will show none of his renowned wisdom or compassion, mindless and seeking to inflict his pain onto whatever emerges in his path. His very presence creates chaos: animals (Olympia | Wyver) domesticated and wild, flee from the merest hint of his approach, panicked and stampeding in wild droves. The reason is obvious: organic matter exposed too long to his presence begins to rot and decay. A field he lands in rots and lies fallow. Buildings crack and crumble, their supports pitted and corroded as though they've been left in disrepair for years. Even the ground that Ysverai walks upon is tainted; a corrosive sludge bubbles up in his massive, clawed footsteps, the ground beneath him putrefied and toxic, oozing corruption. This sludge can be tar-like, poisonous and sucking people in like quicksand; panic, and you'll only sink faster. Prolonged exposure to Ysverai takes a mental toll on anyone in his proximity as well. Effects similar to those from being near his heart — selfish desires and lowered inhibitions — will begin to fester in those around him. Every time Ysverai roars, pain will run through all those that hear him — a pain not just physical, but of true, anguished heartbreak. Those who hear Ysverai will feel (to a degree of your choosing) a sharing of his pain, the agony of flesh rotting from their bodies, blood oozing from under their skin, and a terrible, incandescent fury — and beneath that, a gut-wrenching sadness. This effect is further enhanced by any exposure to Ysverai's blood, and being drenched in greater quantities will cause one to become more in sync with the dragon. Finally, Ysverai is aggressive, attacking anyone and anything that approaches. He starts by breathing out a smog, acidic and putrefying — characters caught directly by this attack will find that medicine and healing magic of any kind hurts them for hours after exposure. The dragon will ignite the smog to breathe fire, if sparingly. IN WYVER     Ysverai's shadow falls over the near reaches of Wyver first. Upon hearing Ysverai's cry, the dragons in Wyver become completely frenzied, turning against their partners among the Knightryders without the slightest resistance. Those familiar with dragons might deduce that they're in pain, though they don't show any sign of injury. The dragons knock their riders off their backs in midair and dive at citizens, jaws wide. Any attempts to soothe them will be long fought, achieved with great difficulty, and will see them retreat into a cowering state. It's not just the airborne Knightryders taking to the defense of the city however, and people on the ground are mobilizing as well. On rooftops across the city are cannons set to fire harpoons. And if the spearheads alone aren't enough to injure the beast, they're coated with a paralyzing poison as well. Unfortunately, the soldiers stationed on the rooftops are prime targets to the frenzied dragons populating Wyver's skies, leaving the cannons open for ordinary citizens to use should they choose. Left alone too long, and cannons may fall under the control of the few remaining radicals that had opted not to flee the cities to join up with their leader Raysc, choosing instead to wait for an opportune moment to unleash their anger on the people of Wyver. These radicals will need to be dealt with before they can turn the cannons upon Wyver's defenders. IN OLYMPIA     In Olympia, the gryphon partners of the Royal Guard react with immediate hostility to anyone showing signs of Ysverai's influence. Their keen senses allow them to pick up the smell of Ysverai's blood and they attack anyone with so much as a drop of tainted blood on them. Those who bear lingering effects of Ysverai's mental attack and who remain in sync with the dragon after hearing Ysverai's cry are also targeted and must face the gryphons' wrath without mercy or restraint. The gryphons must be disabled, for Olympia will not look upon any injury to their prized steeds lightly. However, the gryphons also show some resistance to Ysverai's cry, which is a great boon in battle against the dragon — gryphons that have lost their riders will be available for use, able to carry two passengers at a time. The people of Olympia aren't planning to restrict their offense to pure brute force, and the mages of the city can be seen across Olympia wielding enchanted chains, using telekinesis in the hopes of restraining Ysverai and assisting in the airborne troops. But like the decaying buildings and wildlife, Ysverai is warping the magic around him, the chains faltering as they approach him, whipping back toward the city instead to cage whoever happens to be closest. It's not just the enchanted chains either, but other magic might behave erratically in his presence, as if the very essence of the spells have been corrupted. VIRTUOUS VERSE     Both cities realize they need to seek survival rather than victory against Ysverai, switching gears to carry out diversion efforts and evacuation plans. It falls to refugees to continue the offensive while the Royal Guard and the Knightryders devote their attention to ensuring the safety of the citizens as they flee. With official forces stretched thin, civilians and refugees alike will also need to step up to help herd citizens toward safety among a maze of collapsing buildings. Others will need to see to gathering resources for the evacuation, and while gathering non perishables is easy enough, it's considerably harder to wrangle livestock into cooperating amidst such chaos. Those fighting may be asked to act as bait for Ysverai. Chatter through official troops speaks of a switch in strategy: the objective now is capture the dragon's attention and draw him away from the populous cities and towards the South Outpost. Whether or not it's possible to defeat the dragon remains uncertain, but there's no question that it will be easier to battle him without worrying about civilians. THE RAGE     Luckily, the dragon is indiscriminate in his rage, and easily lured so long as a suitably infuriating target is before him. It doesn't take long to draw him to the South Outpost, but the trail of destruction he leaves in his wake is vast. Once there, the combined forces are greeted not just by Ysverai, but also by the appearance of Ysverai's master. How bravely you've all come to meet your doom! Great heroes, one and all, ha! I welcome you, bring your best. Show me the power that's protected Olympia and Wyver, all that you have to offer me, whatever pitiful excuse for valor you seek to cling to when the fear has you cowering in your beds. All will be for naught in the face of Ysverai's might! Let history witness the day the glory of war is reignited — the day that Wyver remembers its fangs once more! Come, Ysverai, last and greatest of the High Dragons! Come, and restore Wyver to its rightful place! Come, fulfill the promise as our protector that you could not in life! Raysc lifts a gleaming device as he issues his command. Red lights blink and blood, the same oozing liquid that drips from Ysverai's many wounds, runs in clear tubes through the device. Ysverai rears back as Raysc makes adjustments to a control panel — and then lunges forward, mouth agape. With a single swallow, Raysc meets his end. Raysc's attempt to control the dragon has only enraged him further, spurring Ysverai on to new heights of fury. It's become more vital than ever to face the dragon and take him down here and now. A few effective strategies are learned from research efforts and observed while defending Olympia and Wyver: goading the dragon into breathing fire will hurt him, burning him from the inside out, and attacks to his joints, eyes, wings, and exposed bone are effective. Ice is a natural repellent to dragons and can be used defensively or to weaken the dragon's hide. Healing spells will also react unnaturally to Ysverai's flesh, hastening his decay. However, while concentrated efforts will lock him down, Ysverai cannot be permanently killed in this state — his flesh constantly rots and spawns anew. Attacking him here is to protect civilians, keeping him busy to avoid mass destruction elsewhere. Therefore, the battle is one of attrition, a matter of a race against time. You must destroy his flesh faster than it is able to regenerate to have any hope of victory. Finally, when Ysverai is weakening, little more than bones with a few last vestiges of rotten meat hanging from a skeleton, the pathetic remnants of the last High Dragon takes to the skies. His wings are barely intact enough to carry him, yet desperation lifts him, higher and higher, until he lets out one great, earth-shaking roar. A roar that carries across the battlefield, sending all who hear it to their knees. A roar that shatters the swords in soldiers' hands, that rends apart the very air itself — Ysverai's last act, a great curse upon El Nysa, to bring down the sky. AND THE WORLD STOOD STILL     The terror of Ysverai's destruction hangs overhead — a tear in the sky, darkness pouring through, tendrils reaching down towards El Nysa to swallow up the planet in the dragon's final act of revenge. And yet nothing moves. A halo of brilliant light surrounds the rift in the sky, holding the grasping, hungry tendrils in check. And on the planet, not a creature moves. Not a blade of grass stirs. You're not able to even draw a breath. No matter where you are, not even the heart in your chest is beating. Everything has stopped — time has come to a standstill. In a wash of light, an aurora of transport, you find yourself delivered to Thesa Station. Darma stands before you, her expression solemn, perhaps even grim, though that may just be a trick of the station's harsh lighting. She explains what has happened in short order: planetside, time has been completely frozen. We have seen the birth and end of worlds. The rise and fall of civilizations infinite times over. We have seen all threads of possibilities that could have lead to this very moment... Or should have. Perhaps you might doubt our sincerity when we say this comes as a surprise to us, as well... Special technology has been used to blind us. To this day, we only know of one region capable of creating and utilizing such technology... you will find this technology in a city known as Nadril. We understand that you have created a life down in Wyver and Olympia, but now we must ask that you put that life on pause. We ask you to travel to Nadril and find the original Refugee, and with him, answers. As you will discover, he does not wish to speak to us. It is no matter. By now it is too late to keep the Nysan public unaware of our existence. We commend the efforts of those who wish to protect their comrades on the battlefield below, but a creature like poor Ysverai, twisted and warped, given unnatural life with terrible magic and technology, does not simply go down with manpower. Please, leave Ysverai to us. Time on the planet will remain stopped while we determine how to deal with the dragon. For now, rest and recover your strength. We have returned, and soon, there will be new refugees awakening. Perhaps you might like to prepare yourselves to greet them? I'm sorry that I can't answer more questions, but for now, all our attention must turn to finding a way to stop what Ysverai has wrought. A bank of monitors behind Darma displays the battlefield below: Ysverai's frozen, looming figure and the breach in the sky, and the Natha's halo, holding the destruction back. Though time passes normally on Thesa Station, El Nysa remains frozen, and all Refugees are unable to return to the planet until Ysverai's menace is dealt with. Luckily, with the Natha's return, full functionality has also returned to the station. The lights and environmentals are back to full power, access to all areas has been restored, the cafeteria is serving its normal offerings, and there's no evidence of any glitching or malfunctions. Doubtless, the period of rest is much needed after the hard-fought battle. For now, with time on El Nysa at a standstill, there's little else to be done but enjoy the reprieve aboard Thesa Station. FINAL OOC NOTE     Characters that reach an AC length action thread in this event will receive 2 rep for all factions, including Natha. Note that while these are split up for ease of processing, players may submit for all three. OLYMPIA | WYVER | NATHA Players can expect this event to run three days ICly before everyone is teleported to Thesa Station! From thereon, all characters will be grounded at the Station until the Test Drive Meme later this month. QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs ● bestiary taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp ● quest bulletin calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[nineteenfortyfive]

You've fought dragons in your world?

[Dragons in other worlds isn't too surprising, now, but fighting them is. And Anders, especially. He's a healer.]

[punshots]

[ There's a reason he probably hasn't spotted Alisaie around the station yet, because she hasn't...left their room much. And understandably so. Prompto can only begin to imagine what she'd been through, on her side of things.

But he doesn't want to worry Keith, either. He crosses his arms, shooting a look off into some undefined corner of the room. ]

She's, uh...okay. Y'know, doing a lot of resting, but she made it through unscathed. [ You know. Physically. ] Think she's about to set a new record for napping, though...thanks for asking.

[ He offers a lopsided grin. ]

You hungry?

[punshots]

Don't mention it. Ooor I guess I should say...how do you respond to Sarqso?

[ Teach him some Gerudo, Urbosa! It'll be fun, and a nice distraction for them both. ]

[punshots]

[ Part of the problem here is that Prompto is entirely out of his depth here, and he isn't sure what to do to help her, either. Does she need silence? A distraction? Does he need to be louder than the dragon? He can be pretty loud, but no loud enough to drown out that sound.

He kneels down in front of her, trying to catch her eyes. ]

W-what can I do to help? I-I—if you need a distraction—

[ He's good at those. ]

[punshots]

[ He knows this attitude all too well, and really, he's calling the kettle black, while he's been carrying on in the very same way himself. But at least if he gets her to take a break, he'll be taking one with her, and besides, her song has already left him feeling pretty rejuvinated. They need to be sure a power like that doesn't get spent too soon. ]

Are you sure? You don't wanna wear yourself too quick. Believe me, there will still be plenty of people risking their lives after you take a break, too.

[ But he won't push her into it, if she really doesn't want to. ]

[adelphoi]

[ it's tempting to snap at him again, she is in pain, tired, short-tempered - but she can understand his panic, to a degree. it seems a lifetime ago, but alisaie was once on his end of an accidental maiming, when the plague had addled her mind and she had turned her blade on riza. granted, the damage she had done far outstrips a bullet to the hip, but nevertheless, alisaie can recall how horrified she was, how terrible it felt to know she had caused such harm to someone she cared for.

so she keeps her temper in check, diverts it instead to the courage she needs to do this - best not to wait, just get it done, get it over -

it's no small thing, really, to dig a bullet from your own body, and alisaie inhales sharply, tries to bite back a shout but finds herself unable to. it's deep in the meat, slippery work, and she is no surgeon, but after a few very long, very harrowing seconds she is able to pry the slug free from her flesh, her fingers slick with bright scarlet blood, her breath quick, and labored. just.. give her a moment to stop her head from spinning.

suffice it to say, his hand is likely thoroughly crushed. ]

[punshots]

[ WOW NO KIDDING ALPHINAUD, what a stellar word choice. Prompto can't help the effect it has on him either, and he recoils visibly, his features tensing, a breath catching in his throat. He tries to cover it, by crossing his arms and turning to look down the opposite end of the hallway, but it's harder to mask his voice, which bears a slight tremble. ]

Y-yeah. Guess...guess it is. Things could be...much worse, couldn't they?

[ They could be dead. He could still be dead.

But thank gods Alphinaud survived, and seems unhurt. If Alisaie had lost them both...

Well, it's better not to think about what might've happened. ]

[punshots]

[ He breathes out a soft sigh of relief. ]

I'm...glad to hear that.

[ After the carnage he'd witnessed down on the planet, it's good to think about healing for a change. ]

Kinda hard to run away from him, though, considering he was kinda...everywhere.

[seagoing]

Ooh, Hawke had the right idea there. I think I like that even better. Either way, it's definitely working for you if you ask me.

[Exhausted and relieved to be away from the neverending fight they'd been a part of, Isabela gives him a wink in response to that shy smile she spots on his face. Serious or not flirting has always been something that comes easy to Isabela, and that it lightens the mood makes it even better.]

I think I could go without seeing either again just fine, but especially the latter. I didn't end up with that problem while we were down there, but I did see more blood than I'd ever like to see again in my lifetime. I didn't even know blood was something I'd get queasy over, but...ugh.

[She grimaces just thinking about it, looking back on the things she'd thought she'd seen and the raw emotion slamming into her just facing the giant undead beast. She shakes her head as if to shake the image from her mind and focus on what else Anders was saying. No matter what she foresaw drinking as much as she could until she couldn't think of anything about all of this in the near future.]

That would be nice, but I wouldn't put it past them to tell us just enough without answering anything we've been curious about with all this. I won't say no to doing it since we wouldn't be here without them anyway, but it would be nice to have a better clue of what's been going on. As long as we avoid having to deal with another giant dragon I'll be up for any job they want really.

[adelphoi]

[ ah, he's a fox again.. cute.. but she's able to pick up the pace a little now, urging chobi to a fast walk. ]

Well, livestock is one thing, but I have seen so many cling to material items when they should be running for their lives.

[ she'll.. get back around to that milk thing, eventually. first, she shakes her head. ]

But mayhaps I should not judge. Still, it is difficult for me to fathom.

[adelphoi]

[ it certainly speaks to her volumes of trust and faith in him that alisaie does not hesitate for even a moment before mirroring him, aether already swirling around her feet as she gathers her energy, preparing to join it with his, in however they may weave it. ]

On your ready.

[adelphoi]

[ his answer is far from acceptable, given the way her expression tightens up, and her body language with it, but vaguely "alright" is the best that either of them can ask for, really, given the circumstances. he's coherent, and he has renewed his grip - that will simply have to be enough. ]

We are nearly there. Hold fast just a moment longer.

[ already the rooftops of the outpost can be seen in the near distance, just edging out from the treetops. ]

[adelphoi]

[ she doesn't expect allura to recognize a chocobo for what it is - not only are there so very few here who do, but it has already been well established that they are of vastly different worlds. her surprise shows clearly on her face.

but they can talk while moving. once she's sure allura is properly on her feet, alisaie is quickly picking her way down the rubble of the suit and back down toward the ground again. ]

Most cannot, but this one can. He's a draught bird, there is more than enough room for two.

[ as she'll see for herself, once they draw near enough to see him well. he a big boy.. ]

You are familiar with chocobos?

[adelphoi]

And if that dragon turns right toward you and snaps you up in his jaws? What then?

[ sorry you.. this is the worst mood to have caught her in, but hopefully she will be able to sense the undercurrent of concern in alisaie's harsh tone. taking chobi's reins, she turns at last, leading the chocobo toward you. ]

Where shall I take you? What would your best vantage be?

[ this is not a request!! ]

b!

[smithandwesson]

[This was a mess.

This entire situation was a huge fucking mess. Not that Sanzo didn't expect it, it seemed a single month couldn't go by without some sort of chaotic city-destroying disaster occurring. So in that regard, this was just more of the same really.

No, what was more or less getting to him was the fact that this was being caused by some sort of ancient zombie god-dragon. That was new.

At least he was kind of warned about this eventually happening?

So yeah, he was simply moving around, more concerned with survival than anything else. He was simply doing his best to avoid stampedes of civilians and debris that fell from above thanks to the rampaging dragons.

Or at least that's what he was trying to do. Upon just barely dodging a piece of roof tiling that nearly fell on him he was inclined to look up wearily only to see--]

.... Yusei?!

[What the hell twerp!? What are you doing up there and who the hell are you fighting!?!?!]

[baldesion]

[Sadness overtakes Krile's features faster than she can stop it. Perhaps exhaustion has temporarily filed down the edge of her composure.]

I have. [She's lost a friend today, though she has no detail at all and barely anything else either. Refusing to succumb to grief over it, she straightens up just barely.] But there isn't anything I can do about it now. Double the effort for those of us who are here will just have to do.

[baldesion]

[For a second or two, she wants to laugh. Great company? The very thought is absurd, though not for the reason Prompto might expect.]

I'll be as good, if not worse. I don't intend to deliver a report on your companionship to anyone after the fact.

[For now.

Maybe when he's feeling a bit better.

Most of all he looks like he should not be alone or left to his own devices. That, Krile can do something about. Just one thing first.]

I'm only going to ask once, Prompto. Will you talk about what happened?

[It is not - very clearly not, Krile is exceedingly careful about her tone in this matter - a demand, or asked with intent to prompt him into sharing something he isn't ready or willing to. Rather she wonders if he might one day, or if he thinks he will within the confines of breakfast, or if he wants to but does not know how.

It is, indeed, an offer to listen. An offer that stands from here until such time as he accepts it.]

[willrevile]

Anything had been worth trying.

[ The situation was so much more bleak than any of them predicted. 'Fight it' had been a top contender for the haphazard attempts at plans, but not even those determined to fight had expected they'd be fighting the planet's doomsday.

He smiles at her doing the salute. ] Vulcan is the name of a planet, and the people from it. They were the first alien culture that Earth had contact with, and they kind of ... guided humanity into a better place.

[ Out of the dark, into the stars. ]

A lot of people say 'Live long and prosper' along with it.

[semblant]

[Weird...she definitely seemed asleepish a second ago. Poised for sleep, at any rate. He's idle as she continues to fidget...read as: produces a pouch filled with mysterious liquid from inbetween them, something like that. He's quiet through her presentation-explanation. Equal parts surprised, curious.]

Oh?

[He'll squint at the packaging. It's shady enough for him to draw a few conclusions.]

For me-? And what of you?

[Nevermind that she's voiced explicit concern for him. It's apparent she hasn't been fully renewed. It'd be odd for him to take sustenance from an unwell queen.]

I'm content to rest like this...you know.

[But he won't be able to continue to refuse if pressed; for several conflicting reasons.]

[hedonistic]

Thoooose are at least three separate pies, dude. Gonna need you to pick one.

[sullenstallion]

[No. The last thing he wants is for someone to be looking at him right now. He's not sure what his body is doing, but it's always been intrinsically tied to magic. The magic that bound him to the earth, the magic that transformed him, the lightning that burst from his fingertips. Having it turned against him...he can't even breathe.

It's like his body doesn't know how to keep itself 'on.'

Eventually, he becomes to weary to fight what's happening to him. Lightning dances off of his body as he's forced back into his other state. It's not fun to watch. There's lots of shrinking and bones going this way or that way, hooves becoming fingers. Fortunately for Dylas, the lightning makes it hard to watch, like his body is blanketed in it.

Until he's just a naked dude on the ground, gasping for air and quickly shoving a hand between his legs to cover himself.]

Shit! That...bastard!

[sullenstallion]

[Dylas is frozen. If a horse could ever look guilty, he does right now. Tail drooping between his legs, his pure-red and ominously glowing eyes somehow looking sadder than before. He lowers his gaze as he watches Cain pick himself up. He did this. Shit. He hurt him, this is...this is bad. This is the opposite of what he wanted to do.

He grabs Cain's clothes with his teeth and starts to drag him. He doesn't care if it's more unhelpful or not, it's faster, and he knows Cain is strong enough to at least hold on for a few yards. Once they're at the overhang, though...

...he's pretty sure he won't fit. He tries to shove Cain in there instead, eyes already looking for a way to run off. If he can keep the dragon on him, he'll at least have fulfilled his original goal.

Or. He could quickly change back. But then he'd be...nope. Can't do that.]

[sullenstallion]

[Alright! He gets up first. The last thwap is perhaps the rudest of his all. His tail, still long and soft as ever and reaching almost to the floor, hits Waver right in the face before he gets a chance to turn around.]

No offense, but I'd rather do that than sit around and brood with you.

[He offers a hand for Waver, ready to pull him up.]

I feel like we've done that before.

[sullenstallion]

[Since when has Venom been able to heal?

Dylas is at a loss for words. He reaches out and brushes Venom's hair back into place with his hand, his eyes filled with concern.]

...damn it. I hate that scaley bastard.

[sullenstallion]

Stop talking, dog.

[His ears are entirely fluff, thank you. Fur is different from hair, so he has to use a different shampoo. It's really complicated, and he feels like someone would laugh if they knew how fastidious he was about his hair care. You can't have a mane like his and not work hard to keep it clean.

But playful teasing aside(?), he lowers his head at what Keaton says next. He initially hears it as 'I'm better than Ventuswill,' or 'Ventuswill didn't care enough.' His tail starts to lift and thud against the floor at an increased rate in agitation.]

She cared. And she knew that better than anyone. A bunch of idiots gave their lives up for her without asking, and it broke her heart. She would have come back if she had the choice.

[He can't even comment on Keaton's density. He's a little worked up.]