Session 0: Hatching (Awarded for 0&1) I wake on the floor, but I'm definitely not alone, all around me are people, they all look so... familiar, avians and... they're all gladiators! That's my mentor from my training days! I can't believe it, he's ... Oh. He comes to greet me, expressing sadness at my falling, but it must've been a truly great contest! For I am here in the halls of the honoured, where true warriors ascend to when they die. It feels like several months in the Halls of The Honoured, but the feasting and partying ends when I see these creatures, made of gnarled wood and twisted beyond recognition, those around me mutter that they are Guardians. They grab me and take me to an arena, grand beyond reckoning, and I'm dragged forwards in front of a throne of bone and ivory. I am to be judged. Mortus isn't happy, he accuses me of cheating myself, and in turn Him, with glory that is owed to him. I reply saying that I made the best of a worst case situation. my sacrifice as a Paladin would motivate and save the city, and when they are evacuated, the story would spread, giving honour to the act that would be engraved into the very being of a civilisation. The Avatar i faced down, what I was meant to become was also brought low, a creature of malice and fury that would work to bring down the very tenants of the god that I had served by dying. He summons something, and a visage of a giant golden hourglass appears in front of me, the sand at the bottom golden and glittering, and above, the sand is blackened and dull. He says that I've deprived myself and by extension, him, of Glory, and that I must now repay that debt to him. With a flick of his wrist, the hourglass slams into my left side, leaving an hourglass, barely visible on my left forearm. Use time wisely and honour Mortus monthly, killing them with honour and dignity. He drags out a statement that I belonged to him, and I fall through the floor. I drop down, free falling through the darkness, into a maelstrom of lightning, bodies, claws and debris. Fighting back against the tide for as long as I can while whirling for what feels like years. I will not break, I will not. I will not break, I will survive. Three years. I fall again down, dropping to the floor. I jerk awake on the pyre Golden hourglass on left forearm, a glittering line shows how filled the lower section, the upper section is... indistinct. So it wasn't a dream. I have work to do. --------------------- Session 1: A Price in Blood "Do you guys know what you're doing here?" Hail turns and looks to us. After a brief amount intense swearing, its established that we're about to have to deliver him. Again. All because someone stuck the mine collapse deathtoll on his head. Frankly he deserves the heat but the powers that be have determined that his continued living is needed. He tries to make conversation, managing to ascertain that Ambella's been able to kill two Titans, and that another of the party has been brought back from the dead, though he knows not which one. That's when Tess walks in with the female dragon from the interviews, bearing the Tiamat sigil on the breast. She looks much less scruffy, with a lot nicer armour. I'm sure Grey appreciates the new look. Obviously Grey and she make a bee-line towards each other. That's when the dragon gets our attention back, spewing out a septal long name, then confirms she's to be addressed as Nahull. We're supposed to take the targeting beacon over there to a meeting, orders coming straight from Tiamat. The details on the datapad have the rendezvous as a moon orbiting a key draconic planet, according to Seth. The only objective is to get there alive. He'd have been sent by portal, but something during our mission on the Red World meant that that's apparently not a viable case any more. There's a brand spanking new EW package alongside with a credit chip. Nahull does make a point of saying we should adhere to our previous missions' levels of flourish and exceeding expectations. So we're definitely a lure or distraction for something else. Hail is very sure that everyone wants him alive, I'm sure he can explain that at length to whoever is coming for him. With nothing to say, and wanting to drop this mission just for the sheer frustration of the trip- a train of thought interrupted when Hail starts talking about how much fun this would be. Tress and Grey head out for dinner, so I hope they have a good night. We'll be shipping out in 30 hours, poor kid's gonna need it. We're taken to our quarters, with Seth being handed a 'special box' which he inevitably scurries off to his room to conduct whatever wizardry that he's becoming famed for occurs. He comes back out with some very nice Tiamat sigil lapel pins. As we're settling in, the intercom buzzes, after a brief game of rock paper scissors, Ambella takes the call, Nuhull asking for Seth. They'd make really weird babies, so it's a good thing Seth doesn't head out. Ambella provides a perfect distraction, with a spell that she wants to test out that's related to mirrors. After the fighting in Nell Frane, I am more than happy to let those two work out details on those contraptions. Wonder if I could dive out a pocket mirror? As we turn in for the night, we're all caught in one dream, a large, lavish parliamentary meeting, where a blue draconic being is addressing the room, but the words are jumbled and unintelligible. That's when we notice each other, the whole team is there. We see Nuhull in the corner, smoking from a rustic, farmhand type pipe, Tress and Hail are both there, watching the whole scene alongside us. Tiamat is over in the corner, almost laughing. Over to the side is a romanesque and made-up man, full on face makeup, i'd describe him as classically handsome for a 14ft being. Next to him is a lion-person in intense concentration, then a horse-headed man next to them, looking bored to tears. Next to him is a stone-faced black and gold crystalline being, sitting next to a high elf in ostentatious elven gear. Looks like a fucking snob. Next to him is Peter Dinklage from the Avengers Infinity War chronicle. A human, surprisingly ordinary, sitting alongside a squidface and an enormous beetle. Four armed fleshy insectoids are there. Then there's an avian Bolton Grimm, the man who's brother I killed, gold tipped wings and in ceremonial gear. That's when Tiamat frowns, looks around and then notices us. That's when the dreamscape shatters and then we all awaken. We try to recall, and every face there is associated with a name. Tiamat’s counsel Celestials Pluto God of Money, owns every damn casino you've ever heard of Drakon Orso thought to have died battling Anubis, Set and Nepthys Feilious Nobo Feline Emperor, thought to be dead Equestrius Lexus, championed to represent the Eques on the council. Aprxisus Larsa LeRouge Elven Enki Mirth Dwarven Norrag Hammergod, Was still on the Council when Terrin died 200 years ago. Human Gand Terrin, the Emperor of the Human Empire, died of old age over 200 years ago Aquatics Moor Acees Insectoids Cleek Hak Avian Bolton Grimm, A notorious avian general. Looking at this list, the dream must've been some kind of recording from almost exactly 200 years ago. But those people would've been spread out over the entire area. These aren't people that should've or even could've been in the same room. But it felt like we were seeing rather than having seen. An omen for Seth to be looking into, with his exact skillset being honed for something like this. Grey relates to us the tales of the Massacres of Atlantis base. It looks like the string of attacks are all tied to the presumed defection of Hail to the Federation, rather than to Tiamat. We grab what gear we need, I find a pretty cute looking distraction projector and , then we head out, heads on a swivel, ready for whatever we run into. ------------ That's when I look up and see none other than fuckin' Negemphrael, the cockroach assassin. He sees us, presumably says 'nah, fuck it,' then walks into a wall and disappears. Guess he assumed he wasn't getting paid enough, and he's normally on the high end of bounty hunters, so there's definitely some money being thrown around. That's when I feel something tickling my psyche, fresh with the irritation that the competition is already after us. It's none other than Ventris. Further out, there are a ton of enforcers, including the rhino-like creatures. No attempt made to keep it subtle for when we're leaving, with the meatshields lighting us up very nicely for whoever is around already. Up ahead is our ride, with what appears to be an Ace pilot, and a high end stealth fighter, presumably at least our short term escort out of here. Nearby is a large Lion man, athletic and at least 9ft tall with a huge stylised rapier, and a four barrel blaster on the other hip. The lionman nods to us as we walk up, addressing us as 'sir' and introduces his partner as Peyton, and himself as Ralph, our protection detail for this bit. They confer a little with Seth as I keep watch on the 'crowds'. Apparently those two have something from their task force work that they've wanted to share with us. Guil, piloting the ship, hits the throttle the second the doors are closed. Poor guy doesn't even know the mission yet and is already panicking. Smart guy. We spend the next few hours explaining our time on the planet, while he pretends to understand. We keep dropping out of warp, switching directions every other hour to blur out as much possibility of being tailed. Guil notes we've got a ton of supplies, so we're probably gonna need it. Once we're en route I check, then double check my room and stores. No way in hell I'm going to get caught with my pants down again. I head into the common room just in time to hear Ralph talking about how his team has been working on a way to turn back the Scorch, as Ambella looks at Seth with a worried look. He goes on to detail some of the stuff they've been working on, but as is becoming pretty cliche, he comments that we seem to walk out of missions that just shouldn't be survivable- Midway through the conversation Guil shouts over the comms to for everyone to brace, and everything not nailed down to the floor goes flying around the room. This is why I always have magboots on. Guil gets back on the comms, bragging about us going over our own warp signature to obfuscate our trajectory that little bit more. Good pilot, can't deny that. We spend the next few hours sparring in the cargo bay with Ralph has us all honing our skills just that little bit more. Over the next four days, we, myself especially, spend pretty much all our free time in the cargo bay running combat drills to pass the time just a little faster. Seth and Grey take the time to try out in the fighters to clock some extra training hours as well. Nine days since we left, we approach a noted pirate zone, taking the better part of a day to pass through, but it occurs without any major hitches, just a single emergency jump to evade an unknown enemy. Later on though, there is a hitch. The gravity is off as Guil cuts the power and tells everyone to be very quiet. A few tense moments as the rest of the crew is merrily floating around, while I'm standing comfortably on the deck. Guil spends the afternoon getting terrorised by Bjorn and his walking arsenal of overengineered accidents. Of course, that's when the leisurely trip finally comes to an end as we make port, with bjorn making special mention of bjorn storing his explosives. As we dock in, we can sense a definite ton of power on the other side of those doors. As the doors open, a group of dragonlings come in to escort us down to a meeting room. In the meeting room, the mere presence of whatever is on this station is enough to set everyone's hair on end. Literally, with the static. After a half hour wait, we're taken down to a black marbelled hall, a very familiar one, in fact. It's the damn one that we all saw in the vision. Hail's finally cleaned up, and escorted by Tress, takes his place at the podium, addressing 'Grand Lady Tiamat' and that he was here to take his place. there's a flurry of nods back and forth, before they head out through the other door. That's when a dragon walks forward, addressing 'mister Hunter' and how our exploits at Nell Frane have not gone unnoticed, and he offers him a commission on the council. Seth accepts and the dragon turns back at the council, and says that this is his bid for the team of Hunter. Tiamat, however, opposes this, claiming Seth is disconnected, asleep and still in hiding, and looks directly at Seth, demanding if anything is going to change on those counts. Classic reply to that of No. He justifies that he's had to sacrifice something dear to counter the attack on Neptor. Sacrifice was necessary to complete the mission where failure would doom the galaxy. After brief questioning of his willingness, Tiamat retracts her objection. We are asked to disarm and disrobe. Ahead in front of us are a set of white robes. Everyone strips, and following the order to the letter, I remove all my worldly possessions, standing in front of the biggest group of powerful beings in area. Stark nekkers. The nobby looking Elf suddenly notices something, addressing Ambella by name. He begins some weird-ass rant about not knowing what she's getting herself into, sounds like a parent. I tele-message Ambella "I've faced worse odds, let me know when." Stares at the guy like he's looking down a scope at dirt. He attempts to try get a private conversation. A few tries of that, and then they seem to blink, and suddenly Ambella is back.. but different. Her eyes are changed, she stands straighter and seems to have an aura of competence about her. Nufull is over to the side, and Orso beckons us all, to present ourselves. I am Quintus Valerius born to the House Hastatus The Protectors of House Atticus, Scions of the Avian Empire, Legate of the Legion, Vampire Slayer of Quin'Gol, Daemonslayer of Na'Guel, Titan Slayer of Neptoor, Revenant of Nell Frane and Knight-Paladin Reborn of Mortus. I go by Corvus. The Avian looks up at us, "Corvus was it? We have unfinished business." I laconically reply, I suspect we do. He turns to Tiamat, and they begin arguing about unfinished business. Tiamat asks what kind, which is when he replies that I killed his brother, flummoxing her just a little. The argument escalates a little until Tiamat shows footage of my fight with the titan, in exquisite detail as the blade is shown to go right through my chest. I keep a completely blank expression as Grimm re-evaluates me from minor nuisance to possible threat. He withdraws his demand to duel me when Tiamat states that should I win, I would take the Avian seat. An apparent dishonour that he couldn't risk. Tiamat goes on to detail our mission. The advance of the scorch has interfered with the teleportation systems of the Federation. Our mission is to fix it. We are dismissed, so we grab our gear and head back out. Several minutes, several long minutes, later, Bjorn comes out with all his gear. Ralph suspects that the enemy took advantage of the portal being opened to lock the array in place. So we have to go back, and to deal with the Scorch, he pulls out the latest generation of anti-Scorch salve. It looks like he put grape jelly in a mayonnaise jar. We're going to be assigned several gallons of the stuff, enough to last long enough for a mission. It is replicable, but it takes samples of scorch, daemon blood as well as pure essence from all of the elemental planes, earth, fire, water and air as well as a pure sample of Morticite from the elemental plane of death. This has been the culmination of, to quote, a long time of research. Talking with Guil, we can't figure out a way that isn't going to take months. And that's not counting the people who've paid to see us be sorted out. Hail, who's not with us is at 2 billion credits, Ambella's at 200 mil, with myself at 150 mil. So if nothing else, the ones being sent after us are going to be of a decent enough quality. We'd gotten used to bjorn's use of the cargo hold as he tries out new runic magic. I wake up one day, and the tattoo is burning on my side. Standing up, I suddenly realise I'm in an endless sea of sand, with a mystic blade in my right hand. I feel like the arm is burning my soul, and I can feel my hand turn to sand. I see a rahuman that I don't recognise, and his arm is marred and marked the same way that mine is. He sees me and screaming in rage and running, I awake with a start to see my sword is embedded in the wall. I go up to the bridge, and describe the scene and Guil says that there's a dustbowl of a planet nearby, that matches the description perfectly. Heading down through the sandstorm strong enough to strip paint to the metal. We notice a ship landed by a settlement, and their captain hails us in the cargo bay, noting that they've got their own priest of Mortus. It seems like this is a known phenomenon. What sort of god have a really shackled myself to. The crews of both ships agree to keep from interfering if the other doesn't. Both crews head off towards the local watering hole, while I make my way on foot to where I saw the fight take place. Summoning my strength, I head out into the dust. I see a shape in the dust, it's the other priest. He stops to pray to Mortus, beseeching in his name. Within a few moments, and as the challenge is clearly made, a dome goes up around the arena, and the wind and dust die inside it. We have a quick chat, this is his first fight against a fellow follower of Mortus, but it is what is necessary for both of us to continue our duties. I enquire into his brand, a twin of the one on my own forearm, he looks surprised that I've be returned from the dead, that his burden was due to the power he was allowed to wield. A most interesting development. I hit a glancing blow, grazing his temple and briefly stunning him for long enough for Tattoo burns for a second, and I'm compelled to take a step backwards. As the fight rages on, I rain blow after unerring blow into the poor guy, tearing flesh and breaking bone, but with him having put up a shield spell, breaking through is something my dagger simply cannot do. I drop it in favour of manifesting my psi-blade, and leading with the hammer to strike again, but it was unnecessary. Within mere moments, simply due to the luck of drawing and striking faster, a priest of Mortus lies dead at my feet. I see the visage of Mortus as I am lifted and thrown into the sky, losing sense of self or location before I'm suddenly in a seat next to the rest of the team. My opponents crew are deathly quiet, some mutter unbelievingly at the loss of their priest, a creature they must've thought unstoppable and could've shielded them from whatever dangers they must've faced in the cold space lanes. I remember the words he told me before he fought, that using the power of the gods come with a price. Something I will remember. I consign his soul to Mortus with a prayer, and his crew gather and hand over the belongings he left in their trust in the occasion of his death. We finish our drinks and then head back to our respective ships. The Death-price has been paid, and now I have another 30 days before another must be found to pay it once more. I hope to face a foe far worthier of this fate rather than what happened today, two chained and desperate beings fighting to continue their life at the cost of the other. This is the price of serving a Death God. Before heading out into the dustbowl to retrieve my dagger, I check my arm, I have another month to live. Belonged, huh?
