2020.05.20 - Into the Woods Finale - Part 2
This log follows the story from: 2020.05.20 - Into the Woods Finale - Part 1
The day has come. For some time now, Tenebris has been preparing, setting things in motion, and making ready a number of magical and ritual things, in the surrounding woods and even the city of Port-Au-Feu. Between jaunts to his mistress Mandra's home (and also his own), he has done extensive reading, meditation, purification, and in general battle-readying. This is his wheelhouse, his bailiwick, his thing to do in the universe, and if there is anyone in that universe who does it well, it must be said that it is Tenebris.
So when the appointed time comes, he's dressed in a solid bodysuit that looks like it was wrought from haematite itself: dark, almost black, with a sheen on it giving it an almost liquid seeming. It covers him from the neck down and seems to flow into gloves and boots both. And unlike usual, where there are cutouts and decorative accents, the only accents here seem to be woven strands of metallic red...exactly as if it were made of the mineral named for blood! It hugs his every curve and supports the shapes that make up his form, but more importantly, it looks to be a decent armour.
Not that he hopes to need it. Tenebris also wields a truly formidable-looking whip, which he has held in one hand, the rest wrapped around his arm to keep it close. But it looks as if it were made from a vast rose stem, with terrible thorns all down its length. The appointed time is here, and it sounds and looks like there's a storm creeping over the forest, with black fingers of ruin bleeding into the very air around the gathered champions. The evil is close, and it remains unrelenting in its steady advance.
Lucien has likewise been preparing for this face off against the monsters in the wood. He's obtained enchantments on his knives to allow them to do damage to creatures like the sort that they encountered during their last battle. It's something. He's clad in his usual dark clothing, with combat boots and black jeans, a black shirt, a black jacket that is designed to provide some degree of protection, and he is well armed with his newly enchanted knives. They'd found the locations of the two targets, and he's been studying a little bit of the area where theirs is located. Now, he's prepared, along with the others, to foray into the woods and that looming ominous storm.
In the weeks past, Quentin has had to help with research and reading, of all the witches and friends new and old. Abominations...uncommon, in his experience, and something he hasn't had occasion, or rather misfortune, to face. It must have been the War Witches of Tenebris's line that had handled them all, or perhaps the demons that he so often speaks about. But the witch has prepared for today, and he stands accompanied by very powerful-looking figures.
There are sigils all over these figures, and they appear to be armored for battle, with sigils carved all in the armor itself, heavy and stony-looking. In fact, they are creatures of stone, animated by Quentin's will and with his special gift...and augmented with demonic power. He's rarely had occasion to use that particular discipline, either, but if it will help to get rid of this terrible corruption, then it seems like the perfect opportunity now.
With a somber expression on his face, he looks around at the others. Noah, he figures, must be with the others. Hopefully, the young student mage, still developing, will come out okay. This is really and truly a terrible threat they face.
Otis is...barely dressed, as outfits go. For modesty's sake (not his), he's forgoing being completely naked in favor of a ratty-looking pair of black briefs that look like they've got very little left to hold them together. All the important bits are covered, but the rest of his hairy, muscular body is on full display. He has not prepared for this like the others -- magic as a tool is not in his wheelhouse -- but he's as ready as can be expected. He's no less formidable-looking than Quentin's companions, standing as he does just behind the fae, massive arms folded across his chest as he studies the others. Quentin is the only face he doesn't recognize, but he's here, so he gets a somber-but-friendly lift of Otis' chin of acknowledgment.
This isn't the first time nor the last that Taliesin will walk into battle, but at least this time he planned ahead. He found himself a proper rapier and had Rey give it his blessing so he can actually help out in the fight. He's also wearing leather armor chest piece over a pair of jeans and sturdy boots and has braided his hair so it's out of his face. He sticks by Lucien, as the Fae do like to stick together. "You know, after this, I am taking a vacation from my vacation." He smirks.
"Time to move. Let's go." Tenebris gives a tight smile to those assembled, pausing for perhaps a moment longer than necessary as he looks to Otis. Of course he's going to take in the panoramic vista, but that's not all of it. There's something he's wondering, but he won't allow it to bother him just yet. Once the threat is passed, then he might try to imagine what motivations and meaning the bear of a man has for coming along in this group specifically. "If you have any fears or doubts, leave them behind. There's no mercy for hesitation, and mistakes will cost more than anyone can afford to pay."
Then Tenebris starts to move, in a direct line into the underbrush. The trees don't seem to get in his way, and neither do the bushes. He slips past boughs and doesn't appear to disturb much of the branches and leaves of those plants remaining, on the borders of this thing's existence. "The most important thing to remember is to do damage, as much as you can. Don't give it an opening, and don't show it mercy. It has none for you. If it seems pitiable, it's only because it thinks it'll get you to stop." He glances over his shoulder. "Then it will kill you, or worse."
There's no real threshold to pass, no moment of transition; then everyone with Tenebris is inside a place that looks like a Giger painting blended with some kind of horrifying scrap-booking done by a psychopath. It's technically a structure, but the walls pulse and occasionally bleed. A spiral staircase leads up to nowhere. Darkness seems to be the end of every path. And suddenly, then, mouths appear, humanoid and bestial, and smile to the visitors.
"That's it." Tenebris calls, leaping into action. "If you need me, call my name! But try not to need me!" And at once, things whip out to attack: tendrils, tongue-shaped things, hand-shaped things, talons, even feet. It's using whatever it can create to destroy the intruders, and at times it might seem like the shape changes or isn't quite fast; it's more likely just incomprehensible, and the brave heroes' senses are finding it difficult to fully understand what it's doing.
"Do damage to the thing we're trying to kill or it will kill us," Lucien says a little bit dryly as he follows Tenebris through the underbrush. "I never would have thought of that tactic." There's a vaguely wry twist to his lips as he shakes his head, a knife in either hand, quite prepared to do as much damage as possible to any corrupted creatures they happen to come across. And then they're suddenly inside a bleeding staircase and Lucien murmurs, "I think I've been in this nightmare before. There were face huggers. Please let there not be face huggers." But no, then there are mouths, and hands, and tongues suddenly flying at them. "Oh god, it wants to lick me. And it hasn't even bought me a drink first." Yeah, that's not going to be allowed. Any tongues getting anywhere near him are getting lopped off, as well as any other random body part that decides to opt for non-consensual touching.
Flanked by his two stone guards, Quentin moves to catch Tenebris up. The sigils on them emit a soft glow, and they move with a natural grace to them, far lighter on their feet than their stone-hewn weight would be expected to be. Quentin affords another little glance back. Wasn't Rey supposed to be here? But he supposes the dashing knight will make his appearance fashionably late, inevitably as always. He'll believe in that. And he wouldn't be Quentin, if he didn't worry about all those he cares for.
Especially Rey.
It seems like stepping over a tripwire when the whole vast realm extends around them, and it sets Quentin's teeth on edge. He frowns, stepping back and letting his guards step in front of him, and then suddenly there are things. Limbs. Digits, everywhere, trying to attack. Telekinesis should help as a basic means to deflect, but he'd rather them not get close enough for that. So his stone warriors, moving again quicker than would likely be expected, work to engage them and keep them at a distance. Quentin, for his part, begins to chant in low tones. This will require some magic.
As the group moves forward, Otis shifts, his massive body becoming more massive and bulky and sprouting thick brown hair over his skin. (Those briefs are -gone-, shredded almost immediately.) In a few seconds, there is a massive Kodiak bear among the assembled, its wide nose flaring as it picks up the shift in the surrounding forest and its razor-sharp claws digging into the soft ground. When they cross that threshold, Otis growls a deep, menacing growl at the wrongness of the air and the lack of natural...anything...about what they face. He snuffles at Taliesin and Lucien, a brief warning before the attack begins.
Razor claws are a handy accessory to have, in this instance. They're good for rending at those tendrils as they come close, for skewering feet and talons. Otis is surprisingly fast for his size, as much a blur as anything else in this upside-down, even if he's not quite as successful as his senses tell him. A fact that he signals with a groaning roar of frustration.
Taliesin smirks at Lucien and nudges him in the arm. "Hey, I thought I was the one making all the witty banter!" He laughs as the follow the group. Yeah this is definitely something new and seeing all of the mouths and tongues he pulls out his sword and starts hacking away. "I don't think I've had a dream like this but I've definitely seen a few porns that start this way. I don't recommend them." He smirks, and turns to Otis and smirks when he goes full bear. Damn, he's a huge damn bear. "Got it, stay alive! Or no more mead for you!" It's an idle threat, but ya know, anything to keep his friends in one piece!
The roar of a motorcycle engine announces the arrival of The Autumn Knight, as the Waysmaster suddenly bursts through the outer darkness. The bike skids sideways, the knight kicking off of the ground, and he fixes in place the spear he carries. Flames dance in his opal silver eyes, a grim smile on his lips, as he announces, "Let it be said, clear and true, whatever creature you be--you are unwelcome in this place. Begone!" He lifts the tip of his spear, gunning the engine of the bike beneath him, and rears up on the back wheel, leaping forward. He thunders a second time in that rough, accented voice, "Begone!"
The motorcycle bears down on its target, and the tip of Rey's spear gleams against the dark as he makes his charge, just as a knight of old might be expected--save, of course, for the motorcycle in place of a noble steed--and drives the point of that spear home toward one of those gaping, inhuman mouths, letting the weapon bear the full brunt of his charge, such that it will shatter on impact. The knight leaps from his mount as the Waysmaster goes thundering away back into shadow, and as he lands nimbly in a crouch, Rey draws the Autumn Blade in one smooth motion, its length flaring with unearthly fire.
Rising, the flaming sword poised in his hand, the knight advances, even as the shards of his spear vanish, their virtue expended in the strike against his otherworldly foe. He flicks the blade up into an en garde position, the fire and light in his eyes baleful to behold, and declares, "Creature of the void, denizen of the dark! I say thee thrice, and done--begone! We are the guardians of this place. In the name of the Erlking and the Autumn Court, I banish you! In the name of Samhain of Autumn, I banish you! In the name of The Morrígan, Phantom Queen of war, death, and fate--I banish you! Linger here at your peril, and know now that darkness deeper than what you have yet seen: oblivion neverending!"
He always does like an entrance, after all.
The zone, perhaps accurate to call the Abomination Zone, is wholly wrong. It's also not particularly well-shielded from the energies outside it, which may be ironic to some. It has corrupted so much of the land surrounding it, but that's not to say it's beyond recovery or turned into something that it can't be turned back from. Instead, there's the feeling like natural energy, the energy of this world and this universe, is only waiting to be asked to join the fight.
Unfortunately, just as it started out with the faint, relatively easy attack of hands, feet, digits, even talons and claws and tentacles, it ramps up the assault once it becomes clear things are not so straightforward and it is fighting one of its archnemeses. Mouths appear, suddenly, ready to tear into flesh or simply consume figures whole. Sharp, jagged teeth gleam, rotting away even as soon as they appear. Tongues whip out to knock or pull or wrap around and crush.
Tenebris runs up a wall, with the physics of this place as chaotic as its appearance. He slams a devastating kick into a mouth foolish enough to open near him, then springs off it to bring that whip to bear on another. Both mouths vanish and wash away, but it's like crude oil washing over the surface of already-dirty water.
The feeling of oppressive atmosphere weighs even more heavily, with every second passing inside the zone. Despair, depression, and hopelessness all bear down on each and every fighter here. And it's only likely to get much worse with every second that passes. Even as it cries out, it makes sounds that should never exist. Sounds that will haunt the ears and memories of all who were here to witness it. Tenebris pauses for only an instant, backflipping over a perverse imitation of his own whip.
Then it's creating shapes like cars. Trucks. Lorries, rigs with trailers. A gas truck, all spinning around as if caught in a vortex. Tenebris has to move quickly, and it's on quite literally borrowed time.
Lucien smirks back at Taliesin and the nudge, returning it with a slight jab of his elbow and a chuckle, "You're going to have to step up your game to hold your monopoly there, Tal." Then in comes Rey riding on his mighty steed, with flaming sword, and glinting eyes, and a rousing speech. "Now see? That's a speech," he comments aside to Taliesin, grinning just a little bit in approval, the adrenaline of the situation amping him up a little bit.
The sight of Otis in full on bear form is something to behold and he can't help but mutter to Taliesin, "I am really glad that he's on our side." He doesn't know Quentin or recognize him, but with claws and tongues flying at them, now doesn't seem to be the time for introductions, so he just gives him a nod, noting his floating stone buddies, and focuses his attention back on their attackers.
When Lucien actually moves into action, easily dispatching digits with quick slices from those knives, and leaving a few tongues tongue-tied and writhing on the floor, he moves with an easy grace, a practiced fighter who is accustomed to melee combat. And when the digits and talons are replaced with even larger maws, those too find themselves excised of a few teeth before they can even get close to the fae, his demeanor becoming far more serious and efficient fast.
When Rey appears like that, Quentin cheers him on and can't help swooning just a bit. But when the horrid thing redoubles its efforts, he's forced to refocus on the spell he'd been preparing. "Fende Mandra -- Abyssus profundis invocat!" He's paid attention. Demonic power should be the exact thing to use against this, and his golems of a sort seem to match up well against the things trying to attack them.
For a short time, Quentin gains a bit of breathing room, the power borrowed from the generosity of Tenebris's own mistress proof against the chaotic horror. But then a gaping maw opens underneath the trio, and Quentin scrambles to extricate himself and the two animated stone warriors. The demonic blessing on all three makes the mouth disinclined to eat them, but it still tries to tear at them as carefully as it can. As if it wanted to eat them, but really didn't want to have the experience of having to do it.
Otis is a roaring freight train of fur, fangs and claws. Rey's arrival gets noticed (how could it not?), but the big bear is busy with his own tendrils and maws and things that are getting bigger and somehow more wrong. One of the gifts of the People, however, is a skin that's nearly impenetrable, and while those snapping jaws aren't comfortable, they break more teeth than find purchase, although a few manage to pierce deep enough to get a grunt of pain from the big bear. When things get bigger, Otis lifts to his hind legs, pulling himself to his full eleven feet and offers a roar that, ordinarily, would vibrate through the stone and wood around them, but here in the upside down, it is merely loud and angry-sounding before the bear is back to using his size and claws to tear back at that soul-sucking wrongness.
Taliesin scoffs at Lucien. "If I were to go full bard right now everyone would be too distracted and we wouldn't get anything done." He laughs before Rey comes in getting speechy again. "I mean, he does it well, maybe he secretly wants my job." He knows he doesn't but none the less Rey's words are inspiring. He laughs when Lucien see's Otis' full bear and nods his head. "Yep, really glad I made him dessert that one time." He considers Otis a friend regardless of his joking. When he spots Rey he gives him a salute before he gets to work.
For all of his wit and sarcasm, Taliesin is good with his sword and light on his feet. He is able to easily slice through the tendrils and tongues that come lashing at him. One does manage to get around his leg and while it is a very unpleasant feeling, he manages to hack it off and kick it away. "Oi! No means no!" Not that you can reason with an abomination that is. When they get larger he smirks and cheers with Otis' roar. Right on, you tell them!
The Autumn Blade splits that darkness like the firebrand it is, spun around him as he whirls directly into one of the oncoming shapes. "Your power here cannot hold!" he bites out, flinging up an arm, clenching his fist to pull natural energies to him from the woods beyond this place. As he draws them forth, the knight lets that power flow through him and into his sword, The Autumn Blade shining with nature's fire and fury. Rey does not hold back nor hesitate, instead plunging into the attacking shapes--cars, trucks, shadowy things that ought not be--as though he were himself the sword being wielded against this unnatural foe. As the sword arcs down in a deadly swing, right into one of those shapes, Rey fights his way towards Quentin's side. "You are empty! You are *at best* the hollow left when life fails--and this day, fail *it shall not!*" A burst of fire erupts from the blade when it strikes, and Rey leaps forward in a flip, aiming to turn his strike into a vaulting leap to place him beside Quentin, where he can stand back to back with the golemancer.
A bright, sharp grin crosses his face, and the knight calls over his shoulder, "Hello, darling--I'm terribly sorry if I'm late!" And the sword again plunges forward to bury its flames in the darkness of their foe.
And it seems, for the time being, there is victory to be had, even if it is small. It may not seem small, but when the efforts are redoubled by the thing, it seems to practically achieve an entirely different form. The place they are in becomes disorienting, as if it were in a churning vortex. In the heart of a tornado, with only destruction its barrier. Lightning crashes from above, but it's not natural lightning, and its flashes only instill dread.
The mouths turn to grinders, waiting to decimate anything that it should be able to draw in. And it stops playing even remotely fair, causing disorienting angles to appear and throw the combatants off-balance, it hopes, into one of its waiting death-traps.
And that's not even counting the shapes that appear to have once been the images of vehicles, very heavy vehicles and very dangerous ones, probably volatile and sure to cause tremendous damage if they should impact.
Tenebris leaps, spinning to avoid another series of fingers launched as spikes at him, which bloom into shapes like twisted sea urchins, poisonous and ready to snag anything they can catch. Fortunately, he just avoids them, through miracle and magic and the blessing of his Mistress. He lashes out himself, with the whip, catching one of the tankers in it and spinning to bring it against what looks like a large car, to send them both blowing apart against another mass of mouths.
"You can't banter without going full bard? Come on, Tali, I have more faith in you than that," Lucien quips as he dodges a set of incoming chompers attempting to get hold of his arm. But then everything is suddenly doing a massive toilet bowl flush into crazy lightning, and there's very little to grab onto, so Lucien does what he does when darting through nightmares and city streets. He uses whatever he can find purchase on to launch himself one way and then another. Sometimes it's nearly acrobatic. Sometimes it's just a mad scramble to find which way is upright.
"So, anybody got any idea where we need to hit this thing to stop this mad merry-go-round?" he asks the magical mystery mage in particular, shouting over at Tenebris, since he seems to be the one who "understands" this monstrosity the best.
"Whew! Hello there yourself." Quentin is visibly relieved to be out of danger, and especially pleased to have received help from the best possible quarter, in his mind. The guards even seem relieved, though they're echoing from Quentin's own emotions and control, so that makes sense. "I don't know how much power the demoness Mandra has to lend us, but I just used a spell invoking her. It was immensely effective...just like your Fae magics. Maybe we could team up and take out a larger chunk of this thing. Tenebris said that we just have to damage it enough..." And Tenebris, Quentin can clearly see, is having his own challenges. If they can take away some of that urgency and peril, it may be enough to be a significant help.
While Otis might be able to withstand being within a tornado, he is not built for dodging large objects easily, or for doing well on suddenly shifting surfaces. So the bear does his best to hang on, and not get pushed/pulled into those grinders. He makes a noise that's half confused frustration, half impotent distress as he sinks his claws into the ground to hopefully ride it out without too much damage.
"Am I not bantering with you? I am expertly bantering thank you very much. Rey however is monologuing a soliloquy of epic levels and that takes effort on my part." Taliesin winks to Lucien before everything just goes fucking weird. When the mouths start sucking he furrows and makes a face at it and jumps away, trying his best to keep away from the bastards. "Ya know, maybe I should have invested in a bazooka. Those are still things you can get on the black market right?" He is nimble, and quick, but even he needs to pause, stab his sword into the ground and hold on for a moment, at least until the room stops spinning. "Hang in there Otis!" He doesn't like to see his friend in distress, but he isn't sure if he could hold down a bear that size in a tornado of suck like this has turned into.
"By all means," Rey calls to Quentin, "let's do!" He whirls the sword over his head, then slams it into the ground, sending out a wave of power in a circle around them. At the edges of this circle, flames rise up in a ring around them. He keeps on hand on the hilt of the sword, slamming the other down on its pommel, and sends his own power through the sword and into the circle of fire. "Let us burn it back from this circle, give ourselves a place to work from--then we can push out, trap it between us. We'll grind it to dust between the points of our blades!" It's not much, but it's a start. If they can gain a foothold, then they can begin to properly push back. Raising his voice, he calls out, "Hold your ground, my friends! Dig in, marshal your strength--then we dig back at them!"
"Just keep it up! Fight!" Tenebris shouts back to Lucien. "Keep moving!"
That's the only thing to do in this situation, it seems. There are places to stand, even if footing is unreliable and doesn't last long. It can only keep the tempest in its proverbial teapot going if it's able to consider all the things happening inside of it, so it stands to reason that even this nebulous entity does not have unlimited processing threads, so to speak.
The oppressive atmosphere continues to weigh down on the very souls of all those assembled, but it's not as intense as it was, only moments before. There is some damage being done, clearly, and it's redistributing its resources, such as they are. Unfortunately, that also means that it's particularly ramping up the aggression, trying to just one-shot anyone it can, or trying to make them no longer a problem with as little effort as possible: it lashes out with more of those tendril-tongues and pushes those mouths out, huge and sharp-toothed, to bite at its attackers.
"Oh, I see, I am now duly enlightened on the differences," Lucien says to Taliesin with a bit of a grin in answer to that wink. He is uniquely equipped to deal with the disorienting nature of the place. Accustomed to fighting inside people's nightmares which are often a shifting and nonsensical landscape, he rolls with the changes, and even the disorientation with some degree of finesse and control, save for when things pitch unexpectedly and he's forced to cling here or leap there lest he end up snagged into some horrifying maw. "Okay.. I mean, we can /do/ that but this thing just keeps shifting. How do we tell if we're doing anything to it?" He doesn't need to be told to keep moving. He just keeps moving, launching himself from one place to another. A long tongue snakes out and gets hold of his arm, dragging him nearly off his feet backward toward a gaping maw. A knife blade flickers out, sheering it off, but the thing remains wrapped tight around him, so it takes him a moment to tear it free and hurl it into its own gaping mouth.
With a nod from Quentin, the pair of stone guards start to move in ways completely superhuman, to fight back any advance and establish a circle. A perimeter of sorts, wherein this evil is not welcome and is unable to penetrate. Quentin starts chanting again, syllables and tones, as he arranges his fingers in distinct shapes: the mudra, as it is called by some. He begins to weave the enchantment necessary for a circle that he can use, and slowly, steadily, the earth itself beneath them all intrudes through the barrier...which seems to be weakening. Surely, the tide is turning. Surely, with this assemblage of power, it cannot help but do so.
Unsteady ground that doesn't last long is miserable going for a 1600 lb. bear, and so Otis finds himself jumping more than a bear his size should. His actions are mostly defensive, now, since he's unable to trust his footing to mount any meaningful attack. He manages to spare a second to track where his companions are, having to rely on what he can see rather than scent, because his nose seems filled with the stench of the Abomination's rot. He makes another frustrated, pained sound, sinking the claws of one massive paw into the ground even as he fights off mouths and tendrils that seem to be very interested in his singular predicament.
"One day I'll charm the pants right off of you and you won't know what hit you." Taliesin smirks at Lucien because of course he's going to flirt in the middle of battle, it's his defense mechanism. Sadly he can't flirt with an abomination, even though it's waggling it's tongues at him. He watches as Rey does his magic and does another boisterous speech. "Yeah, working on that." He calls out as he loses his footing again as the ground shifts. None of this was in the books they checked out of library, he's going to ask for a refund. Hearing Otis' noise of frustration he grabs his sword and dashes in his direction as best as he can. Granted one of the tendrils slaps right into his side and knocks him over and reaches for his foot, and he manages to slice it away and get to his knees. It'll take him a second, but he'll at least keep an eye on the bears back so he can worry about the front.
Rey slashes one hand along the length of his blade, clenching his fist and then squeezing out blood onto the clear, natural ground as it begins to appear. Pushing his magical energies through this connection, Rey intones an invocation: "By my blood, let the bond be forged. By the blood of my blood, let the channel be opened. By the blood of our father, I consecrate this gland in the name of the Autumn Court of Faerie. I claim this land. By my blood, I bind it to Autumn. By my blood and blade, let the line be drawn--the fire against the dark!" He rises, drawing the Autumn Blade from its sheath of earth, and with a whirl of one wrist reignites the sword's flames. "Quentin!" he calls out, "Push now, with all your strength!" Taking the sword in both hands, he strides forward, moving into a charge. He can hope that he's given Quentin enough room to move, but now he drives forward again, raising his sword, to try to reach Taliesin and Quentin. If the spell worked as intended, then Rey has hewn out a place to stand against the dark--and bound himself to it. If he can blaze a path to the others, then perhaps he can lend them that stability, give them the strength to make the push needed to win the day.
All of the things that everyone in the group is doing seem to be working. The barrier becomes more threadbare, the disorienting vortex flickering like an old television, and on the other side of it -- just visible -- is the forest outside. Quentin's summoned stones, Rey's Fae power, Lucien's chipping away at threats, Taliesin's swordplay, and Otis's ursine potency all add up to the gradual demolition of this terrible thing that should never be.
And Tenebris keeps practically flying around the place, throwing the vehicles against each other and against the walls, against the giant mouths trying to eat them all or just rip them apart. He's not landed for more than a second before he's sprung off again, flying to meet another tanker hurtling at deadly speed. But the War Witch is in his element now. This is, as stated, what he does: he brings demon power to bear, through secret witchcraft, against the threat of that which exists Outside and should never be allowed in.
Lucien uses the flying vehicles that pass him by to jump and vault off of, propelling himself toward that bit of solid ground that Rey has reclaimed with the earth and his magic. He finds his footing three and then spins to face more tongues and teeth and gaping maws. He grabs tongues out of the air, like gripping onto a whip, and slices them off, tossing their writhing ends back into the mouths that threaten to swallow them. He takes up a position on the opposite side of Otis from Taliesin, working with him to keep the tongues from hobbling the bear, and giving him some maneuvering room.
When Rey gives his order, Quentin draws a dagger from his coat, which he'd worn for some protection, enchanted as it is. But he takes his ring finger on the left hand and pricks it, touching it to his lips and then kneeling to press his hand to the ground. When he does that, the stones rise to provide a more stable foundation. The golem warriors stand still, repelling any attempt to assault and disrupt the circle. He can tap into the earth itself, and that's what he's doing. But not only that, he's also calling upon the blessing of Mandra to, hopefully, combine demonic advantage with his own special gifts. The planet can strike through his power and, with Rey's help, it should be a formidable blow indeed against this monster.
The help of all the Fae is enough to allow Otis to gain some semblance of control again, and when the ground solidifies underneath him, the bear's feet plant and he raises up on his hind legs. This time, the roar that comes from him -does- vibrate through everything, and his eyes are pupiless yellow. Then, he is a whirling dervish of destruction, almost untraceable to the human eye. Trucks and large objects are carved through with claws that are extra-long, and saber-like teeth make short work of tendrils, even if the taste makes the bear spit between devastating bites. Around the Fae he works, clearing a path for the others as they begin to turn the tide. He is fury and death, and it's all for this thing.
Taliesin can feel that he's going to be hurting in the morning, but all of his important limbs are intact. When Lucian joins him in protecting the most potent of ursines he gives he smirks and returns his focus to slashing things that need to be slashed. Rey's efforts are helping to steady the floor beneath them and that really helps to not get chewed on by disgusting mouths. He's seen disgusting mouths, these are the absolute worst. It's obviously working, because Otis is making his loud angry bear noise so they must be doing something right.
Rey falls into place beside Otis, letting the powerhouse bear-shifter blaze that trail while also pushing out that line of power from the circle he forged with Quentin. The Autumn Blade blazes, flashing out as Rey defends Otis' flank and makes his own strikes against the otherworldly enemy. He doesn't launch into another speech. Otis' roar speaks well enough volumes for their purposes--it's a declaration of war, of blood and death, and that is the language that Rey embraces as they battle their way forward. The flaming sword slashes, stabs, and strikes as Rey dances along beside the raging bear. Otis is their powerhouse, pushing ahead, while Rey joins the line of others at his side, churning their way forward through the darkness.
All of this adds together to something that the Abomination, in the end, cannot stand against. The static of the walls begins to flicker more desperately, and then it fades altogether, the churning of the spiral, this ersatz Charybdis, fading too, discorporating. The mouths cry out again, with that horrible sound that pricks at the ears and tears at the mind. Lesser champions might fall to despair and desperation against that alone. But not these braves, not against this entity given shape by the twisted invitation that allowed it to exist here, even for a short time.
"A GRAA ORS!" Tenebris poses, seemingly upside-down on one of the trucks, with his bodysuit seeming to ripple, as if it really were made of some strange mercurial liquid. The whip orbits him like a spiral, like a whirlwind of his own, to answer the perverse appropriation of it by the Abomination. The way he moves, and the way his environment moves him, it's as if he were moving slightly slower than everything around him. "ZNRZA!!"
And then, strangely, there's a burst of intense iridescent blackness, like a shroud flowing over Tenebris entirely. It's hard to make out his figure, with everything moving around them, and then he's impossible to keep track of. He's gone into the whirl. With the magic completed, with the power surrounding them, it all becomes a rush completely opposite almost immediately: now the vortex spins only for the Abomination, and in seconds, it's disappeared and taken all that it brought with it. The corruption vanishes, sucked dry into another plane of existence, where only those things can exist, because they are the only things that can exist amongst each other. And when all is said and done, then Tenebris reappears near to Rey and Quentin, near the stones, looking a little worse for wear.
Lucien winces under the shrieking and howling and the intensity of it all. He doesn't dare let go his knives to cover his ears so he just grits his teeth and bears his way through it, continuing to keep everything off of himself and his side of Otis until the entire thing gets sucked away into a black hole and they are left standing there in the forest, clear of the corruption. Only then, does he let his shoulders slump a little and lets out a breath that he hadn't realized that he'd been holding.
The energy surges, the spell is complete, and then it's over again. Through their combined efforts, the Abomination has been driven out, and it's like it never was here. That's a thing to be thankful for, as far as Quentin's concerned. He hurries to Rey's side, healing his own self-inflicted wound with barely a thought, carefully checking Rey out so that if there's anything needed in that way, he can provide it.
When Tenebris appears again, after seeming lost in the flow of darkness, Quentin sighs in relief, reaching out to touch Rey's shoulders and then, impulsively, to embrace him.
Otis keeps his fury for a few seconds after the Abomination vanishes and the world turns right. His teeth bared and his claws extended, he looks around the forest for more to vanquish. Finding none, he sways on his hind legs, shifting slowly back into the nude form of the big bouncer. There are bloody places on his pale and sweaty flesh where teeth and mouths found purchase, but they already appear to be healing slowly. The big man sways on his feet, looking around blankly at the others before lifting one thumb in a victorious sort of gesture. Go, us.
That sound is terrible, and it makes Taliesin wince. "Oi! These are musician ears! Could you not!" He barks out at the abomination, but it apparently dies, and they apparently win? He holds his sword for a moment longer as he looks at everyone else and it isn't until Otis turns back into a man that he puts it away. "Well, no one died. Who's up for victory sex?"
The fury passes, and the Autumn Knight lets out his breath. Rey wipes and sheathes his sword, then lets Quentin heal his hand. When Quentin embraces him, Rey returns it, holding him close. "Well," he breathes out in relief at last, "that's done, then." Leaving one arm around Quentin, Rey turns to regard the others. "Well done," he says, voice a bit rough. He's expended a lot of energy, even with a wellspring to draw on, and right now what he most wants is to get home and relax in his place of power. "Bravely fought, all of you. Everyone is quite welcome to come to the Sylvan Court to recover, should you like. Food and drink will be on the house, of course." He barks a laugh at Taliesin's suggestion, flashing a grin, and says, "Well, that's always an option, as well, and certainly possible at the Court." He lifts his fingers to his lips and gives a sharp whistle, and the Waysmaster rumbles back up beside him. He offers to help Quentin climb on alongside him, saying, "Shall we be off, then?"
This time, Tenebris smiles broadly, expressive and genuine, heartfelt in his eyes and on his face. Pride brims over, and he lifts a hand to return that thumbs-up at Otis. "Thank you all," he calls out, voice a little rougher, from all the intense bodily exertion and, one imagines, the magic just performed in concert with all the other attacks and all the other champions here. "I tried to direct the energy as best I could. If it turned out the way I wished, the animals and other living things made to suffer through the corruption, or used as pawns by the Abomination, should be restored as if nothing happened. But we're going to have to keep an eye on things."
Rey's invitation renews the warmth of that smile, and the War Witch raises a hand, shaking his head. "I'm going to have to leave you to the bulk of that, because I'm going to have to retreat to the Abyss for a time and recover my energy. This thing was truly formidable, even for an Abomination. You've all done very well."
With a wink, he looks to all assembled and stamps his foot on the ground, firmly, before dragging his heel in a little circle. It flares with a dark energy, and then it rises as he seems to sink into it, and in an instant, he's gone, leaving only the faint scent of some kind of exotic rose in the air, before it too scatters on the wind.
Birds take flight, a nightingale singing for a mate. The insects click again, first tentatively, then a bolder chorus. A little fox darts from one bush to another. A litter of baby wild pigs suckle from their mother. And though night falls while all this is happening, there's sure to be a dawn again, thanks to all those here who stood against the tide of despair and the consummate evil that can only be called an Abomination.
The stars twinkle in the sky, and the Moon looks down on the world. Night blooms again, sweetly-scented and warm.