Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived The Isle of Saint Maria

The line of blades dispersed as Nox was taken out of their view, ducking into cover behind columns, around the corners of corridors, and in the doors of side-rooms. The return fire from the revenants didn't find its mark, but between that and the wall, it succeeded on halting the rain of poisoned bullets onto Nox. Those blades targeted by the trail of goo attempted to dart away from them, moving clear of the centre of the hall. The lingering heat effectively cut off a section of the hallway, making it difficult for the dozen or so gunmen to get back into position for the time being.

In the same instant, however, the side-doors to either side of the room burst inwards, and more blades moved in from there to flank the group. At their fore, a blade from each of the two doors each lobbed a hand grenade towards the crater in which Nox sheltered, each primed to detonate a bare instant after they landed with a powerful blast. Four more followed after - two from each door, these recognisably armed with Exorcist rifles and wearing bulkier armour clearly designed to withstand the force of the recoil. They levelled their weapons at the cloud of dust kicked up by the hand grenades, and opened fire, each aiming to send a full clip of nine high-explosive rounds towards Nox, aiming to take advantage of his hindered regeneration before the bloodbane's effects could be fought off. They seemed horrified by the crackling visage of the lion, but were evidently disciplined enough to focus their fire on their instructed target regardless.

Finally, a single set of footsteps approached from beyond the wreckage of the double doors that the group had entered the hall through, as a long-haired man dressed in a crimson cloak approached. He held a large, silvery-bladed longsword in one hand - though it looked weighty enough that it ought to have been wielded with two - and in the other he clasped a hefty looking black pistol not dissimilar to a lawkeeper. He eyed Nox and his allies with a disdainful, ruby-red gaze, seemingly unphased by the horrific lion.

As he advanced, he raised the pistol and aimed it towards the beast, clicking a clip of consecrated ammunition into place and unloading several shots in quick succession at the demoness in the time it took him to begin closing the distance.
 
Avacyn, I'll be there soon...Just hold out a little longer for your brother...

The swirling maelstrom that Nox had internalized began to bleed back out into the world, first a trickle, then a splash, before unleashing itself in a torrent of despair and hunger and malevolent cold. If there was no shortcut to take, than it meant that the Caer Patriarch simple had to fight his way through every single room this place had to offer. He didn't care if it meant expending every single living soul he had captured over the weeks. This place would be rubble and his sister would be back in his arms before he let himself fall. For the nonce, he'd forgotten all about the sword.

Still leaking heaping amounts of steaming ichor, Nox would begin to climb out of the pit he had dug. "Zanzi," He'd rumble, voice deep and cascading like thunder practically dripped with power. "Unleash the beast and then draw yourself back in. I want no more harm to come to you than necessary. Ale-" He'd begun to bark, only to have the grenades go off all around him. The heat, the blunt force of the shockwaves, the shrapnel, it burned through him almost as bad as the consecrated Bloodbane had. But unlike that foul liquid, this was a pain Nox knew oh so well. Explosives, that was something he had experienced in spades.

Once he was fully out of the hole, the aura spilling from the gigantic monstrosity seemed to double in strength, the tendrils of corrupting emotions lashing out at any mortal they could find. He couldn't stop the bullets from tearing into his demoness' shadows, but he could out from behind the bone wall, towards the strange man who seemed fearless as he assaulted Winter's Chosen. This stranger would be the first Nox would meet, running at as much of a charge as he could on his slightly ruined, still recovering body.
 
With Nox catching his second wind and Zanzibar protecting him, Corso decided to go on the offensive. His corpse wall now useless, the necromancer re purposed the protective flesh barrier as a weapon. A dozen arms and legs detached themselves from their corpses, fusing together to form a snake-like whip of severed limbs. The flesh chain slithered up to one of the squads of attacking blades and would attempt to wrap itself around legs, torsos, throats, skulls... crushing whatever it managed to entwine itself around. They particularly went for the Blades wielding the Exorcist rifles, as they posed the largest threat to Nox but similarly would be unable to defend themselves at close range. Exorcist rounds were explosive - to fire one at anything within five feet was a death sentence to its wielder.

Of course, there was still so much necrotic material to use. Focusing now on the leftover spines and ribs of his victims, Corso splintered every bone in the leftover torsos into tiny, bullet-like shards. With a surge of magic, the projectiles spewed out of their corpses, blood-soaked, launching in a hail at one of the squads of incoming Blades before they could get too far into the room.
 
Pain! Agonizing pain! Three of the bullets from the newcomer's weapon pierced the gruesome flesh of the mutilated lion. It shrieked in pain as it moved away with lightening speed from where it once stood to avoid the remainder of the volley. Furious eyes gazed upon the new man. But she had heard her master's command.

However, she did not obey him immediately.

She turned to the new groups, the humming increased. Arching flashes of brilliant light began to bounce between the spears on her back to the metal bits around the room before she unleashed her furious storm upon the group closest. Soon after the power had faded, she disappeared into the shadows, melting away into an ichored glop that socked up into the dark void below. Nox would feel her close once again, although more pained than before.

Alek, however, did not hear what Nox had commanded, raising and arm to absorb the flash of explosions away from himself and into his continued work. The cracks that had grown towards the group down the hallway would now spread wider, steam rising up from the broken up tiles as it continued to rise in temperature. The floor in spots would become soft and molten.
 
The screams of dying men began to fill the room as Nox's companions performed their grisly work. The chain of bone and flesh latched itself around the neck of an exorcist-wielding blade, choking the life from him in but a few moments and tossing him like a ragdoll across the room. Whilst one of the men kept hold of his exorcist - in the process of reloading it - the other, the one who had thrown the grenade, pulled out a sword to use to fend off the necrotic whip. The Blade with the exorcist, spotting the likely source of the necrotic magic in the channelling necromancer, turned his freshly reloaded weapon onto him and opened fire. The use of such a weapon on a human foe was questionable at best, but this was the Inquisition stronghold. There were to be no holds barred when the Caer himself was invading.

In the meantime, on the far side of the room, more blades suffered under the rain of splintered bone. Their armour protected them from the worst of it, bone digging into kevlar or rebounding off of steel. They fell back into cover behind pillars and overturned tables, intending to use the time to reload their weapons. They had no such opportunity, however, as Zanzi's storm crackled towards them in a crescendo of thunder, bolts of lightning striking most of them and sending them flying as the electricity coursed through their bodies. Of the three men two seemed killed instantly, catapulted away. The third seemed spared the worst of the blast by his position more separate from the first two, hidden behind a pillar.

Those blades in the hall didn't take long to realise that the crack in their midst was soon to become a much greater problem. Those of them down side corridors split away, moving rapidly away from the widening vent and moving off to find another angle of attack on the room. Those who had taken cover in the pair of side-rooms along the hall had less options - around six men in total. They held their positions, one ducking out from the doorway and aiming a rifle towards the only target he could see - the lion - mere moments before it vanished away, escaping further reprisal.

At the centre of the conflict, the long-haired man did not react to Nox's charge, but to point his weapon at the vampire's face and pull the trigger twice - emptying the remainder of his clip at the monster with surprising speed. But he made no move to avoid the Caer's attack, instead staring him down coldly.
 
The Caer had almost been in lunging range of the red-eyed man when two more rounds of ammunition ripped into his flesh. The first shattered his cheekbone before ricocheting out the back of his throat, and the second just punched a deep hole through what used to be his right ear and his scalp. Staggering and slowed, but by no means stopped, he'd do his best to orientate himself as he feet continued to carry him towards his next meal.

At least this one could bite back!

Rearing up to his full, almost-impossible height, Nox would let out a bitter, mocking guffaw, his massive sickle-length claws descending towards the one so eager to die once he found himself in range. Even if the white-haired Inquisitor retreated, the Caer would be close behind. Hungry, unending, furious, and for the first time in more than half a century...feeling like himself.

"I'll kill you all to get to her!"
 
It was a fool's hope to suppose the Blades would continue pouring their ammo into the party's tank and ignore the DPS in the background. Corso had just enough time to construct a makeshift shield of necrotic energy and hardened corpsebone when the .50 cal Excorcist shell exploded near his feet. The blast which had merely staggered Nox sent the much squishier necromancer flying against the nearby wall, grunting at the impact. Had he not fortified his physiology with potions before the battle, that single attack would have broken every bone in his body - spine included.

Luckily, Corso lived - and the battle had provided him with ample new resources. In particular, Corso focused his energies at the heavily-armored Blade he had choked the life from not a moment ago. As the remaining Exorcist wielding Blades fended off the necrotic whip, they might notice their downed companion rise from the floor, a glow green in his eyes, before levelling his own Exorcist and unloading every round in the weapon at his former allies. The ensuing explosions would rock the entire building, large craters opening up in the floor.
 
The heat in the hallway and the room beyond had become staggering. The floor was glowing and molten, and now the heat was rising into the walls. Glass warped and melted from the intensity. Alek left it as it was, as it would continue to feed off itself for some time, and no one would dare use that end of the hallway for back up for a while. Instead, he drew out his own guns again, raised one up and aimed them towards any remaining forces within the room and pulled the trigger.

Zanzi kept close to her master, preparing to defend him if necessary.
 
The man responded to Nox's slash with a sidestep - unnaturally swift, throwing himself to one side and slashing up with the silvery blade at the underside of his arm in retaliation with equal swiftness. He seemed unhindered by the heavy blade - designed to be wielded two-handed, though he swung it with all the ease of a sabre. He ducked and weaved away from the slashing claws, only taking strikes where there were openings, and otherwise focusing on staying nimbly just out of the vampire's reach.

The two remaining blades contending with Corso's work spotted their fallen comrade rising, and the one wielding his sword reacted quickly. He disengaged from the whip of bone with a slash of his sword, then closed in on the risen zombie. With a growl, he tackled his former ally to the ground, wrestling the exorcist around to try and pry it from his grip. As he did, however, the bone-whip latched onto his ankle. Before it could pull him away, the other blade - having dropped his own weapon for lack of time to reload it amidst the chaos - loosed a shotgun shell into the thing, splintering the bone and blasting the end of it off to earn the other his freedom.

Across the room, the blade who had taken cover behind a pillar ducked out and levelled a pistol at Corso, firing off a couple of shots towards the necromancer before being forced to duck back into cover as Alek opened fire with his own weapons, sending chunks of stone flying off of the pillar. The shotgun-wielding blade wasn't so lucky, taking a few rounds to the chestplate - thankfully none of which pierced through - and being forced to retreat away as well, finding his own cover behind another pillar.

The hallway where Alek's molten magics lurked remained empty - the blades penned into their rooms there by the overwhelming heat. No more reinforcements were likely to come from there.
 
The building rage at constantly being outpaced and outmaneuvered only drove Nox to do better. Every attack would come faster, more precise. His steps were no longer a wild charge, but slowly following a rhythm, a stance, a long neglected but even longer practiced martial dance. For the first time in half a century, the Caer thirdboy was beginning to feel like himself. Feel like he had when his entire family was with him, when he still shared the same world as them. Memories were flooding into him, faster than he normally would've been able to process this.

He remembered being a warrior. Not some...wild beast, but a seasoned combatant, one who relied just as much on raw power as they did presence of mind. He remembered the drills, the twenty eight years of his mortal life, and the first century and a half afterwards. Every day, non stop drills, so many instructors, far too many weekly death fights with his brothers and sisters, the every now and again mutt hunt that sometimes would prove a challenge even for Nox, the years of the Skirmishes! He felt so alive! So...complete! It was all because of her, because of Avacyn, just hearing her voice in his head! He knew it was no trick, nothing could lie to Winter, Winter knew and It told Nox the truth! Avacyn had never died, he had not completely failed, he could still save at least one of them!

Nothing had ever so inspired Nox, focused his might, honed his skill. For now, at least, Nox had returned to his mental prime!

Never before had Nox been so dangerous.

After one more of his charges had been dodged, Nox would sink his claws into the ground and hurl himself forwards towards the long haired man, using his upper body strength to add to his momentum and speed, leading with his right shoulder and his cavernous maw of jaws.
 
The quick-thinking blades would receive no reprieve for their heroism and courage. As the shotgun-wielding blade splintered the bone-whip, he would find the possessed corpse of his former comrade smiling at them both from where he lay on the floor. He clutched a live grenade to his breastplate.

"Agh!" Corso scowled as one of the bullets connected with his shoulder. "Insolent little..." Two of his revenants joined Alek, unloading their rifles against the blade taking cover near the pillar. The necromancer ducked low, jumping into the crater that Nox had formed not ten seconds earlier.

"They'll just keep coming!" Corso bellowed, "we need to close off the exits!" Honing necrotic energy from the multitudinous corpses lining the floor, the necromancer began charging a spell. At once, the doors leading into the room from the kitchen and one of the smaller side doors began to glow with sickly green light. The ground festered, spores and smog belching from the cracks in the stone, choking the entrances in a plague of pestilence and disease. Any mortal who breathed the stuff would likely find themselves suffocated, and any part of their skin which touched the stuff would probably be afflicted with agonizing boils and bubonic tumors. If they remained in the fog for too long, they would die quite painfully.
 
"I've already closed off the one!" Alek growled back at Corso. "You get the next one!"

Alek reloaded swiftly, taking aim at the one attacking Nox. He waited until he was sure he would not hit Nox himself, and took fire upon the paladin with three shots.
 
It wasn't clear whether the Caer Lord's final lunge was just a stretch too quick for the man to dodge, or whether his failure to move away from the descending maw was deliberate, but as Nox's vicious teeth bore down into the inquisitor's shoulder and tore it and his arm off in an explosion of crimson gore, there was no panic visible on his face. There was pain, near-blinding - his eyes went wide and he staggered to the side, bright blood pouring from the wound by the bucket. It was then that Alek's shots struck him dead-on in the chest, launching him from his feet in another spray of red. He landed on the ground on his back, twitching.

But as the next few moments would reveal, this was not the end of his fight.

As the inquisitor's flesh and blood ran down into Nox's gullet, he would discover that it was not only the inquisition's bullets that were flush with bloodbane. The poison flowed through the man's veins in high concentration, burning at the Caer's throat as he unwittingly ingested it. The blood was hot, too - unnaturally so. Where it fell on the stone floor, it sizzled and smoked.

And then the inquisitor moved. His head snapped up, and with a guttural grunt, he used his good hand to push himself to his feet. Ruby light shimmered upon the injury, and before the group's eyes, his missing flesh began to knit itself together and regrow. Smoke poured off of the injury carrying with it the sulphurous scent of foul magic, and the man's eyes were alight with red. A malicious grin split his face, as he clutched his sword with his good arm.

The two blades remaining in the room seemed shocked, staring in horror at their ally for a few moments from behind cover and ceasing their attempts at returning fire for the time being.
 
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