An Age of Mysterious Memories

B 6 C 202: Avant Toutfout le Camp



It just appeared, a whirlwind, a maelstrom, out of nowhere. It’s moving slowly about the battlefield now, but it started by sucking Orthral down into the Worldstorm, almost assuredly sending him to his death, the spin of the hurricane whirling in time with the motion of Curlybeard's, well, beard.

This can't be real. My wife, noticing either the swirl of Worldstorm shaped like Orthral, or her Latent informing her of his demise, calls out, "Beloved Bronze!" and in her distraction, Butterfly capitalizes on the perceived weakness, and dives for Kinzul's head. Butterfly’s clawing and scratching, attempting to rend the circlet from her skull, realizing it's what's keeping Kinzul immune. I hate to admit it. Butterfly’s smart, fast, and strong, and might be able to take my wife’s life if her psychic attacks start working.

Distracted by this, knowing how deadly it would be to give up the immunity, Kinzul can focus on nothing but tearing herself free from Butterfly's clutches, or worse rather, attempting to tear herself free, unsuccessfully. Kinzul couldn't have opened a hole large enough in time for Orthral’s safety, and now she can't focus enough to do it at all. It happened so suddenly. It just can't be real. Wait. Where’d Laombigla go? I was supposed to be fighting Laombigla and Nonnam, not just Nonnam, where–Prinny! No!

Damn it, Prinrin’s getting hammered out there. She’s so tiny compared to these beasts. No, no, no! The larger Prinrin has the smaller one, that means Harlequin has got her, in a flying headlock. Worse, I found out where Laombigla went. No, no no no. Prinny, you have to live. It can’t end like this. I barely roll aside a jab by Nonnam while peppering him with holy halefire crossbow bolts, and void breath. I try to aim my ranged attacks towards Laombigla, now on the other side of our fray, near Prinrin, and use my Honoris Causa to keep Nonnam busy, but I just don’t have the range on my breath weapon, and the crossbow bolts don’t so much as tickle Laombigla.

This is it, she’s done for. My heart’s in my throat. Time slows to a standstill. Laombigla’s closing in, and is only meters away. Even if I could get over there instantly, what could I possibly do to prevent him from touching her? Nothing. I can do nothing but sit and watch as my beloved deviant little old lady is about to have her soul ripped from her chest. Hell, he might not even bother ripping out her soul, she’s in a vulnerable enough position, he might be able to part her ribcage with a single swipe. No, no please no.

Someone, somebody do something! Luni is aghast, trying to keep her focus on playing her tune, the thing keeping us from getting destroyed by Lovelace’s predictions. Lil is trying to get a lungful of air but his sternum is bruised from a mad dash that Sibil took towards him to get away from Lucky, resulting in a head to chest collision.

In a tiny, hopeful voice, one adorable goblin artificer brings a smidgeon of good news, “Barricade’s up and running, Tiger.”

It’s followed by our grumpy librarian, Curator, Nala, offering up, “It’s as best as we can fashion it, for now, Schism.”

At least… At least the feasting hall is a bit more secure. But Orthral is, is gone, almost positively dead, since Kinzul is too busy, and blocked from psychic anything, to have been able to open a safe path down the Worldstorm for him, and now Curly Beard and Devilhound are turning towards Kinzul. I can’t believe this. Everything is going to $h17! I can’t bear to watch, because in this frozen moment, it seems like Prinrin is next. I can virtually feel Miraina’s tears. Pawn, Prinny’s daughter, on our psychic wavelengths, I, I can’t save her. I’m so sorry Miraina. Tears cloud my vision. I’m letting her down. I didn’t protect her mom.

Miraina, sobbing, sniffling, calls into our psychic bond, “Momma, you–,” But wait! Prinrin remembers! The cloak, her promise! With a flash of lightning, she's gone, just in the nick of time, blinding Laombigla in the bright flash, and scorching his face as she teleports up and away. Holy friggin’ crap, that was close. And now… and now Laombigla just obliterated Harlequin, ripped his soul straight out and sent his body plummeting to dash against the rocks of Solace and Solitude in confusion. Ha! Take that, you soul-stealing bastards!

Prinny I love you! Lure that arsehole over to me then get the hell out of here, please! It seems that Prinrin had been building a full charge of her breath weapon while she was held in a vulnerable position. Holy crap look at her go. Kinzul’s breath weapon is charged too, a mighty fine coincidence that the two best friends, eldest dragons, both acids, are charged up right now.

Strategy my love, nice! Kinzul just turned herself into a geyser, breathing straight up, and flying so that Butterfly clinging to her back, neck, and head, would take the brunt of the splash as it came back down! It’s not a fatality, but it sure drove her off Kinzul’s back! Simultaneously, Prinny did a strafing run along Laombigla’s back and wings, leaving gaping wounds on the already wounded Damnation. Way to go loves!

Holy friggin’ crap. Te is soloing two Damnations and two Evil Claws at the moment. What even are her limits any–I’m drawn into a timeless void again, the same image is presented before me. Countless golden threads all end suddenly, parallel to one another, but one microscopic, frail filament extends beyond them all, out into the unknowable beyond. Suddenly I snap back to my body, to the flow of time. Friggin’ hell, what is that? Are the Sisters trying to contact me?

Things are turning around, yes, yes! Te literally knocked Curlybeard’s beard off! Haha! I’ve heard of rocking your socks off, but Te amped up on Luni’s rock riffs is something else entirely. Because of her tossing Mjolnir hard enough to clip Curly’s beard, the whirlwind has disappeared from the battlefield. Whew, way to frickin’ go Te!

It looks like we let one Evil Claw slip through. Boetah and Shiz are about to engage. Where’s Veril? Oh buddy please be okay. Oh whew, Rufflered and Veril are just way off to one side. Seems Veril’s got some lightning scars from when the Blues were ganging up on him, so he lured his prime target away. Good job bud. Farzhis has been on the Green that must be Porkbelly. I uh, wonder if she’s working out some issues she has with Induul, snrk. But no, seriously, she’s really laying into Porkbelly. She keeps igniting his breath any time he tries to catch her offguard with it.

Butterfly’s retreating, trying to break off from Kinzul to use her assets against an easier, unlikely to be immune, target, but our Lady, my wife, is having none of it. Whew. Okay, Prinny delivered a present for me. Hiya Laombigla, remember me? I died in your ear canal while almost killing you. I really, really want to finish what I started. As Prinny is flying straight at me, I’m flying straight at her, we’re each dragging a Damnation, and we’re both much smaller, much faster, and much more maneuverable.

Grinning, we pull up at the same time, leading to a head-to-head collision between Nonnam and Laombigla while Prinny and I spiral upwards chest to chest, eyes locked lovingly. Well, at least my Honoris Causa’s eyes. Prinny isn’t -*that*- small that she’d be humanoid sized in her dragon form, even if she is a runt. Kissing her swiftly, I headbutt her gently, shoving her back towards the far side of the fray, to the Evil Claws, so that I can drop down to focus on the two Damnations beneath me.

Fricklefrack. I need to take advantage of their distraction to help Illy! While Laombigla and Nonnam are recovering from a daze, and a tangle of limbs and wings, with Lovelace and Laughing Drakk in the mix, I blitz through the battlefield to Illy’s side, intentionally diving into the timestopped mist. Come on Reggie, come on. You can operate during a time stop. You’ve done it before. All you need to do is think. Isolate the signals. Stop more of the flow of time, yourself, analyze the signals in accelerated Retrocognition. Ow ow ow ow! I forgot, ow. Retrocognition while my Honoris Causa is manifested hurts like a buggering bugger. Okay, okay we have it though. Don’t let go of the flow of time. Set this up carefully.

I let my Void Dragon form encompass Illy, as well as the sand above her. I nullify the gravity of the sand, costing me a hundred days worth of dragonforce, oof. Further, I nullify the time-stopping signal on Illy. My momentum from before I entered the timestop transfers into Illy as I had my Void Dragon form shoulder bash her towards freedom from the mist, straight into Frostwalker. There goes another two hundred days of dragonforce. Friggin’ hell. Please forgive me Kinzul, Luni. As Illy returns to the normal flow of time, she’s absolutely furious, apparently she’d been able to sense everything going on, because she’s linked up to a mind like mine, well, mine, that can operate during a timestop, so she kept hearing my inane babble.

She knows, she knows we lost Orthral, and nearly lost Prinny. She’s making up for the time she was out of the fight by absolutely tearing into Frostwalker and Bad Dog. Speaking of– ow. Their concentration broken, their combined efforts fade, causing tons and tons of sand to drop atop my head, and me to be freed from the timestop. I couldn’t afford to keep the sand’s gravity nullified for more than the instant it took to free Illy, to keep her from getting knocked down into the Worldstorm. Now I’m plummeting with a hell of a headache, and probably a concussion.

Roll aside and slip out from beneath the sand, whew, easy enough, even if I have a clamoring headache. Focus Reggie, only a couple more minutes. Just, just please everyone. Please survive for a couple more minutes. Less than two now. It looks like we stand a chance, like things are turning around enough that things are going our way as I blitz back towards the now-recovered Nonnam and Laombigla. I shoulder tackle their faces into each other with my Honoris Causa, following through by flying past them, raking their faces with the front, and rear talons of my Honoris Causa. Looks like things are finally swinging our way. Teuila’s out there like she’s born for this, just laying waste to them. She’s incredible. My genre senses say there’s another shoe to drop yet though.

Wait, it looks like all the Evil Claws are trying to break off from their fights. Hell, it looks like they’re regrouping to maybe retreat, as they make a mad break for it in this direction, towards their superiors, the Damnations. Wait. Aura vision. Crank it way the hell up Reggie. What is that trail? Those trails? Friggin’ fuggin’ fricklefracking hell’s bells hellspit and Fel fires! What even is this!? It’s like they’re evolving, like they have a combined super-evolution tether, dozens, maybe hundreds of times more powerful than anything I’ve ever seen, and we made Lil virtually into a god only earlier today!

Their dragonforces are gestalting, shacking up together here over Laughing Drakk. It’s taking a form like an Honoris Causa, a spiritual behemoth of Brobdignagian proportions. It would blot out the sun if it weren’t nighttime already. Can anyone else see it? Oh no. It’s invisible. It’s spiritual. They might be able to sense the commingled dragonforces, but probably not the shape of it. It’s rearing back like it’s about to breathe in the direction of the Onyx Dawn members who’d given chase to the fleeing Evil Claws. All the Evil Claws look physically weaker, strained, drained, I guess that’s why it’s a next-to-last resort, but that hardly matters with the size of this spiritual thing.

Amplifying my voice as loud as I can with my Honoris Causa, I cry out, “Retreat!”

Kinzul can’t hear my psychic rambling that had been noting the spiritual dragonforce coalescence, but the other members are given pause by my brain’s rambling. Kinzul, leading the pack of Onyx Dawn members, hears my cry and stops only barely just in time. A swathe of her chest and neck scales just disintegrate before everyone’s eyes, as the edge of Laughing Drakk’s spiritual gestalt breath weapon laps at her like the lick of a flickering flame.

This thing didn’t just decimate what it hit with those spiritual flames, it eradicated them, erased them from existence. Disintegration on a whole other level. My wife grimaces in pain, and falters. She looks stricken, but she knows to trust me. Teuila glances my way, and I nod, yes, her too. She rockets upwards to snag Lu, and rushes to join the fleeing Onyx Dawn forces. Lucky and Lil only linger momentarily, firing off any last abilities or charge they’d had in store.

Gilmeshtu, freed at some point, by Rubicante’s lack of maintained focus, mutters telepathically, “Was hoping I might see this attack of yours. Best we retreat though. Don’t disappoint the Vivant. Don’t disappoint Orthral.”

Well that twists like a dagger to the gut. Friggin’ thanks Gil. My eyes sting with sweat and tears as I rattle my skull. The constant boom of the Worldstorm’s endless thunderous roars dampen the rampant pounding of my heart.

Fenric adds, “Please Schism. You saved me once. Avenge Orthral. I don’t envy you, but it’s all down to you.”

The last of the Vivant, the deviant little old lady herself, my beloved Prinrin The-Copper calls into our bond, “Don’t die for us Schism dearie, live for us. Live for us, and all of Solace, Schism my sweet. This old runt’s ticker can’t bear to see another Hero fall to these bastards.”

I do want to live, for Prinny, for my inner circle, my wife, my once-paramour-step-daughter Illy, the entire Onyx Dawn. But can I? I know I did the math, over and over, but that was just pure damage, and numbers. Can I survive this? Calling out to Can’Z’aas, using mana when, as a changeling, I shouldn’t be using any? I resolve to shapeshift more, constantly. Perhaps I can set up an internal subroutine to at least shapeshift away from being blue every minute or so, since the wild magic keeps returning my pigment to blue. That’d help with a couple of issues.

Full of false bravado, Teuila comments, trying to assuage everyone, “Relax, my Airhead’s got this in the bag. Just breathe fam. Air’s gonna take ‘em all out in one, ‘natch. Right babe?”

I’m about to respond, when I realize Teuila’s telepathic voice was aimed at Luni, who retorts, “Y-yeah, Reggie will always come home to us. No question. Always has, and always will.”

Smirking, proud of me, despite me having done nothing all that useful yet–Illy raises an eyebrow across our wavelengths, causing me to blush, since I did free her from a timestop–Lil adds, “That’s my pal for ya, need some super mondo mega badass, mega mega mega badass spell or attack to do the job? Aint nobody better than Reggie.”

While I’d like to argue, and try to be humble, my mind floods with all the times where I’ve broken systems and rules of reality in order to cobble together a victory, or at least a survival against tremendous odds. Even so far back as the Night of High Water. If I hadn’t crafted the shell, or duplicated Lil’s flames, I think I’d have died, drowning. If I hadn’t broken even more rules of our world, we would have lost Luni, precious Lu. She’s so important to me, to Lil, to Te, to Lucky, to the very fabric of reality and the prime timeline itself.

Gazing down into the roiling Worldstorm, it’s as if it’s painting portraits for me, of scenes with Luni, showcasing her importance. The clouds bend and twist, despite being violent and dark, they’re fluffy, soft, rounded, and huddle tightly up against one another, like Lu in any number of crevices she’s pulled me into over the years.

Our The-Blue, Farzhis, in her soft-ending-consonants accent pleads, “Hero, Schism, please make i’ true. I can’--, I can no’ do this withou’ you righ’ now, me and Broke One both.”

Agreeing, Veril, sniffling, comments, “Please Schism. I didn’t know. I, I didn’t know. But I do now. Your plans, they’re everything. I’ll always trust you. I’ll never let you down again. I swear.”

My heart aches at Farzee’s need, and Veril’s comment. I want to remind him that he didn’t let me down, that I forgave him for not igniting the gas on my command, since it looked like it would kill me.

Nala, Curator, my favorite grumpy librarian calls into our bond, “Schism, friend Reggie, no one else understands. You must survive, and return victorious, you simply must.”

Immediately on the tail of Nala’s plea, Littlebit, adorable, vivacious Littlebit causes me to chuckle, roll my eyes and blush as she adds, “Yeah Tiger, bring home the V, and show me what else you can do with letters.”

Shield, Boetah, rumbles gleefully, “You brought me a mate, even though I’d only mentioned offhandedly Schism. We should feast so I can thank you. I told you, be happy, eat well, everything else sorts itself out, and I’m happier and more well fed than I’ve ever been.”

Wearing an embarrassed grin, not wanting to think too hard about my hand in Boetah and Atter’s mating process, or about Littlebit’s implications about the alphabet, I roll between wing flaps of continental landmass sized monstrosities, while equipping my lightning-cursed leg-guards. This draws a titanic stream of lightning from the Worldstorm up through the Damnation dumb enough to try to sneak up on me from below. Of course, the lightning hits me too, but, meh, not like I haven’t already been struck by a crapload of lightning today. Though still, ow, friggin’ ow! Totally worth it, heh. Oof, I’ll feel that one in the morning, if I’m around then.

Smirking Shiz thankfully quiets everyone else, “I’m sure Schism gets it. They don’t need any more pressure being told it’s up to them, now do they? Go on, let’s show our faith. A few more of us should head to Solace’s base to tackle the siege.”

My wife, Kinzul, privately, wheezing in pain, must have taken off the circlet so she can admonish me, “Please don’t spend all of yourself. I know what this power costs you. I Administrated it for you before. My love. Please return to me. To us, to all of Solace.”

Thankfully, for some reason, my family, friends, and loved ones are able to evacuate the battlefield, and everyone’s attention turns to me. All the remaining Evil Claws, all the Damnations focus solely on me. I gulp. My wife’s request eats away at my resolve to finish this by any means necessary, but still I persist. Blinking back tears, I rub my eyes and sniffle while dodging swipes of all seven Damnations.

Pawn meekly adds one last comment and query, “Schism, I still need advice, about the other night. I like you, and you help me so much. Can we talk later?”

Ruefully smiling, I nod across my telepathic wavelength to Pawn. Miraina’s telepathic avatar smiles towards mine in response as she drops our connection to zoom off deeper into Solace. Her unspoken confidence in me--that there’ll be a later in which I’m around--well, it’s pretty darn heartening.

When I realize I’m pretty much surrounded on all sides, I facepalm. I let everyone’s parting comments distract me. That--ah, well--is pretty par for the course for Reggie Shellcracker, isn’t it? Yeah, yeah it is. Glancing around, gulping, sweating, and bleeding from reaching out to Can’Z’aas, joking, I pitifully, nervously quip a classic cliche with a Shellcracker twist, “You ah, wouldn’t hit an enby with goggles now would ya?”

Chuckling nervously, I dodge aside a blast from the gestalt. I’m gasping for breath, my breathing labored in almost pure terror. Do I have resistance against whatever that weapon is? It’s going to be turning my way again in a few short moments, and I’ve got about thirty seconds left before my plan kicks in. I can’t retreat, because if this thing’s breath weapon gets in range of the aerie, it could kill everyone in the feasting hall. I have to trust my danger wraps’ senses to keep me alive.

Y’hear that wraps? I’m counting on you more than ever before, and I’ve counted on you nearly my whole lives. This is instant nullification or something. I don’t dare test to see if it’s some element with a cap on max damage, after seeing it just erase Kinzul’s scales. Kinzul’s for crying out loud! The most powerful, eldest scales on the planet!

If only I had some of the magical trinkets and consumables from Stormspire. I kinda wish I hadn’t dumped everything out for Littlebit and Nala to sort through, then again, this isn’t fair. The Evil Claws are spreading out, and this gestalt is only getting bigger by the moment. That’s friggin’ ridiculous. It’s also kind of Lil’s shtick. He ramps up power the longer he goes at a breath attack.

Gorrammitall, several of them have made it to the aerie. I saw the ripples of a thunderous blast, and can tell Shiz retreated with whomever else was on the aerie, now the Evil Claws are balked only by whatever barrier Littlebit and Nala had cooked up. I guess it was a good thing after all. Plus, Shiz blew the Evil Claws off the aerie for now at least. Good job big guy. Hopefully the barricade holds when they regroup again.

Is that.. Is that Induul? What is he doing here, coming from that side of the fight? Where the hell was he ranging? His telepathic response is, “Forget about it Schism, what the f&*( is this?”

I kind of want to say the same thing back to him. Instead, I mirror something he said to me a few days ago, at ShizTinth, “Damnations, flee you fool!”

His response irks me, “Nah.”

Rattling my skull with incredulity, I call back, “Nah!? The hell do you mean nah? You were terrified of them last time, and I’m about to flood the air with literally over a million projectiles.”

Balking temporarily, Induul responds, “Really? Uh, I’ll find some cover then. I figured you had me covered, would take out the Damnations or something.”

His laissez faire attitude about expecting me to be able to protect him from seven whole Damnations at once is equally as irksome as his nah. Obviously I’d try to protect him, but this is messed up. There’s only seconds before my attack unleashes. I can’t stop it now, or we’re all doomed, because there’s no way we’ll withstand the gestalt’s attacks for eight minutes. Fricklefrack!

Indy! I… I can’t. My eyes well with tears. Five seconds left. Four. I have to choose, now, do I stop, so that Induul lives for now, or do I let my attack go off, three, possibly being the one to personally slaughter a comrade if I can’t find a way to keep my attack from hitting him. Not just an order member, a friend. Two.

Like a “best of,” hits-reel, images flash through my mind. Everyone that I’ve come to love in Mount Solace, followed up by the stark reality of seeing Kinzul’s scales disintegrated instantly. If I stop now, Induul’s dead in a matter of moments from the gestalt, and so am I, and so is everyone else. I’ve been dodging its constantly increasing-in-size breath weapon, but I’m tired, my muscles have been leaden this entire fight, because I pushed into my unsafe SP usage for the day. I can’t keep this up for another eight minutes. Even if I could, the gestalt could ignore me and wipe out the entirety of Mount Solace. One.

Fricklefrack! While I was distracted, Laughing Drakk himself landed on the aerie! No no no no! I’m sorry, Induul. I’m sorry. Indy, I can’t… I can’t stop this attack, or everyone in Solace is dead. Please Induul, forgive me. Try to survive, and know that I’m doing anything I can think of so that you do, please. It’s the Damnations, and the Evil Claws. This attack is all I have left that might drive them off or destroy them. If I cancel it now, we’re all done for. I’ll try not to hit you, but I plotted it into the future, without factoring you in the mix. My connection to Can’Z’aas, and my powers from my world begins to manifest, along with the excruciating agony it brings with it.

My appearance flickers in and out of my Backpotter form, and umbral duplicates spring into existence. Blood, life, and light rocket forth from my body, painting me like a tattoo of my circulatory system, my mana residue corruption sickness shredding me along every pathway within my body. The sky is absolutely flooded with enormous spearhead-shaped duplicates of diamonds I put into my inventory I think only this morning. My Honoris Causa is still manifested, and I tried to utilize it to create a void where the projectiles would materialize that would fly directly in Indy’s direction, so that they couldn’t show up. I think it worked, but it cost me hundreds and hundreds of days of dragonforce. He’s behind Lovelace right now, rather near, and a bit behind Nonnam, who’s no longer being propped up by Evil Claws, instead being propped up by other Damnations. When did they switch? Why? My jettison attack launches, like the Gates of Babylon opening to unleash the hordes within.

No. No what’s that light? It couldn’t possibly be… could it? But what else could it be? It must be him, the Manxome Foe, the Bright Lord, somehow. No! No you can’t interfere, you can’t! You bastard! The eyes, they’re doing something. The Celestial Emperor is interfering somehow.

Growling through gritted teeth, I shout, “I’ll make sure this costs you big you bastard!”

Some sort of shield absorbs the majority of my projectiles, and the stark redness in the eyes of the Damnations dims. I roar with frustration, and expand my Honoris Causa as far as I can, attempting to take the Damnations out myself. At least the Evil Claws drop like flies about a bugzapper, and the gestalt dissipates. Most of the corpses fall into the Worldstorm, likely to be disintegrated by the acid within. I think nearly all of their dragonforces reside within Laughing Drakk’s corpse on the aerie anyway.

Annoyingly, though I’m glad he’s alive, Induul quips, “Nice shot Schism, but uh, you missed some.”

I can’t focus on that now. My gamble didn’t succeed, not entirely. The Damnations could still kill any of my non-Shellcracker family and friends if I let them get around and past me. By the sounds of things, Teuila’s stuck behind the barricade, trying to pound her way out. I guess Nala and Littlebit really did give it some oomph. My body is shredded to bits, though that’s disguised by my clothing and armor. As long as I don’t give away to the Damnations that I’m actually no threat, and completely out of juice, nearly entirely dead, I might be able to bluff them into fleeing completely, one last time.

Come on lightning spiritswarm, come on cursed greaves, give me a bit of a boost. I should really, really leave speed to the speedsters, but I have to cover and dissuade all of these continental landmasses from turning around, and circling around past me towards Solace.

Right now they’re fleeing, a familiar sight to me by this point. But there’s something strange about it. Their flight is more graceful, less jerky than it had been. Did their pilot give up some of his control to create that shield? Does that make them stronger, or weaker? The Celestial Emperor has more tricks up his sleeve than I gave him credit for, and I don’t know enough about the Damnations' abilities outside of his influence, to gauge if I’m better off or worse off because of that influence dropping.

Urk. I’m vomiting torrents of blood, and it’s seeping out all of my orifices, more and more as I continue to lightning burst boost my Honoris Causa’s flight in chase of the Damnations, up and down their ranks in their enormity, raking and clawing at them when I can catch up for a split second. Ya’ve said it before, and ya might as well say it again Rej. Leave speed to the speedsters in the fam. Ugh. Everything hurts.

I… I can't keep this up. My vision’s going dim. My brain latched onto the red eyes, the proof of the Celestial Emperor’s control, but also my worst trauma trigger, or one of the worst. I’ve boxed up the panic attack for now, but I’m so weary, and in so much pain. I don’t…


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