Empyrean Reveal - Stellar Frontier

The Avatars of the Pantheon

Gizula the Iron Deceiver, the leading figure of the Wr'noctur, sits in a swivel chair before them. After a long, useless squabble with Celine, she leans back into her chair, eyeing up the other crew who have yet to speak up. Some have been at the end of their wits trying to figure out how not to die in such a situation. Others are fueled by their contempt and dismay of her appearance. She is the bane of this crew, the one who is the direct and indirect cause of death and deception across the galaxy.

She awaits the crew's response, gleefully, "So...do 6 of you want to become the avatars of the Wr'noctur? You all have such potential! Say...Cerbyn for example! Grommash would love to fuel a lust for your keen sense of death and killing! Oh how you would be able to murder as much as you want with him! Or perhaps Koh Myo who already knows so much about our cause? You would be another perfect candidate. Why don't you give it some thought? We can provide you more and more power, you will never have enough!"

Khold holds his weapon at her chest as an act of intimidation. Coyly, she tugs on Khold's blade, easily pulling him despite his iron grip. "And why don't you join me?" Her face morphs several times, as if she was a glitch in the worldly system, until her body replicates that of Ripper. Khold's mind skews in a burning hatred, yet he does not lift his hand. He...and everyone knew that messing with this woman could be a more than deadly mistake. Of course, she knows it as well. He only grimaces in the "face" of his deceased lover. His mind is in jumbles until a cool breeze washes across his face, and when he looks up, he sees the undeniably real Ripper descend upon the room. She sneaks a soft look in his direction before laying upon Gizula a fierce slap to the face. The slap echoes loudly, leaving a shocked expression on Gizula's morphing face. The glowing Ripper hisses, "That's my face," and dissipates. Khold looks up into the void, thankful.

"Thank you for doing what I couldn't...I could never bear to hit that pretty face anyway." The potent essence of Valgorin lingers in her absence and Khold strengthens his resolve. Gizula looks up, surprise fading.

"Ah...so you are already the avatar of a God. Valgorin, I suppose. Well it's too bad you only have one supporting Patron amongst you. You can go sit in the corner then, do I have any other takers?"

Celine sneaks up behind Khold and whispers loudly, "Should we tell her almost all of us are the avatars of a god? Is that a good idea? I think we should-"

Gizula scoffs, "Hah! Celine, I told you already, you are a pathetic liar. You already tried to trick me once, but I do this for a living you know?"

Celine pauses to look in her direction, "Who ever said I was lying?" She closes her eyes and focuses her power and Ellon's memory into her rapier. Her rapier radiates an intense energy as she lunges forward to stab Gizula. Oozing black blood is spilled to the floor, bubbling and bursting - Gizula screams when hit with this searing pain. The ways of old Elven combat are still just as effective today, it seems. Yes, she is taken aback once more, but returns to her smug attitude. "Corellon is just a NOBODY! Right, now you have 2 supporting Patrons, so what? Two is still no match for me, please. It's not like all of you can be backed by the pantheon. You can join Khold in the corner. Now...isn't anyone else interested in unlimited power?"

It is at this point, Apache's muffled giggles burst into a hearty laughter. Impressive for a construct. His loud laughs fill the room until he composes himself.

"Ahh...you don't have a clue, do you?" Apache says, almost giddily.

All he needs is one moment of concentration and faith to generate a thread as thick as steel which instantly binds Gizula to her seat. The threads' movement was almost imperceptible, and it wraps her body whole. For a moment, her eyebrows furrow with trepidation. She puts on a convincing smile, but her eyes give away her worry. "Okay, so you have Thredius too...I can still take 3 of you without an issue..." He tightens his grip on the threads, further restricting her movement. Apache carefully draws closer to her, being sure to not let her run free of Thredius' absolute grasp. Fate is not so easily escapable after all. At this point, it is not too difficult to put together that she was not aware that most people in the room are already in the pantheon's list of avatars.

And in the meanwhile Cerbyn had a cute idea...a very, very devious idea. She begins to manifest energy...slowly accumulating it while Gizula is overwhelmed, one-by-one, by the crew. First, Khold and Valgorin, next Celine and Corellon, Apache and Threadius, Cerbyn and... who should she choose? Of the Pantheon left, there are 2 to choose from, Io and Selendis. Cerbyn ponders for a moment. Io is too incredulous, it would be hard to pull off given her history. Selendis it is. Selendis...Selendis...Goddess of Knowledge, Union, and the Arts...ah. She smirks.

"I realize now, there is no longer a point in hiding it," she says as she strides over to the right of Gizula's chair. "You will not tear apart our crew with your feeble words of deception. Our union is not so easily broken - how foolish." Cerbyn lets her energy release, it is deceptive and dark, yet overwhelmingly bright. The brightness drowns out the shadows to which then Cerbyn begins to float. The power of "Selendis'' emanates from her small body, her eyes glowing. Wings of light spread from behind her back and envelop the room in brightness.

Gizula cowers, biting her lips, palms sweaty, and her shaking intensifies. "No....No! It can't be! Selendis is DEAD! How is this possible?!" Her thoughts are raging at the realization that not one, not two, but 4 avatars of the pantheon have been revealed in just...one crew.

Cerbyn gazes sharply downwards, "You don't know anything."

Gizula's eyes dart around nervously, even more so than before. She is still shocked from Cerbyn's spectacular showing. "There is no way, you...you have all 6?!" She looks at Khold with pleading eyes, "K-kh-khold....please, please tell me you'll help me...? I promise you anything, no- everything you want! Just let me go - I don't want to go back to that place!" He only stares coldly in response.

Koh Myo makes a great leap to the swivel chair, and aggressively spins Gizula to face him. She is startled by the sudden force and her body would have been tossed like a ragdoll if not for Apache's thread.

"Not sorry to burst your bubble, but you've haven't even seen it all yet." Koh Myo isn't usually a show-off, but this seems like a good time. He punches his fists together to create a spark of light. He draws all of his ki where his fists meet, creating a pure orb of concentrated power. It is dazzling, bright...and not to mention, very large. Although it may pale in comparison to Cerbyn's gleaming wings, the implications run just as deep... This crew has 5, or more, supporting Patrons. His veins glow as he concentrates his energy further and further until he unveils his right palm to reveal Chang Cheng's symbol of faith - he is the True Sword of Chang Cheng. His strong fingers come together in his palm as he crushes the ki concentrate into dust. A shock wave of ki bursts and covers the room in a shimmering, energy-filled dust. Gizula's skin morphs...even paler than the last.

Finally, Ter enters the room. His heavy footsteps ring louder than any other. His claymore hits the solid floor of the cargo ship with a loud thunk. His words are simple and imbued with Justice, "And I...the avatar of Io."

Gizula shakes her head, "No no no no no no...why is this happening, I can't believe this...You have one less of ALL the pantheon's gods?! THIS CAN'T BE!" As she lets out a shrill cry of desperation, the ki dust left behind by Koh Myo's energy, the spirit warriors of Khold, the threads of Apache, the utter presence of Cerbyn and Celine, and Ter's imposing sword of Truth banish Gizula into where she should have been from the beginning. Nothingness.

Cerbyn gently lands as her godly presence fades. Everyone else's energy slowly dissipates back into "normal." Things calm down in the now (mostly) empty cargo ship. Now it is time to rest and exchange information. Secrets unveiled, truths exposed, this moment will come to an end the same way it usually does: with some extra strong liquor. Now they drown in their grief, or perhaps their happiness before reaching the eye of the storm.