This Topic is for Team Five (Cirice, Kvasir, Veliky) to reply to the main Sol Stone topic.

What the hell...?

The incomprehensible slurry of sights, sounds and sensations washes through Veliky like the first throes of sickness - the first hours of denial before its hold becomes unshakeable.

"Is this a dream?" Her voice is little more than a whisper as she tries to understand the things she sees. The bots... there are more of them, now. Many more, actually. 'Again? This can't be real...'

Wide-eyed, like a lost child, Veliky backs away from the empyrean horror that towers in the void. The ground... there is none. Her steps feel unsettlingly wet, even through her boots.

And then it comes, that burning in the side of her skull: that presence that cannot be mistaken, blinding her in ways that the eyes couldn't suffer. She can feel her throat tightening, her eyes boiling. He's here.

"You deny what you are too weak to face." His words are as grim as powerful as the storm, yet as close and intimate as a whisper. It sends pins and needles across her skin and mind. "It is real, Veliky. You cannot wish it away."

'Real, real, real,' the word repeats in her mind a hundred times. Yes, it is real.

Around her, the desperate struggle has already begun. Her eyes dart between the duplicitous Scern and the countless adventurers trapped here, alongside her. They're fighting, they're giving their all... But she's just standing. The bots are waiting for her to say something, to take them to victory, yet she has no words. And as her breathing becomes more and more laboured, she looks upon the sight that cannot be ignored - that anomaly in the abyss, whose hair flows like the rivers of Fate.

"Raguel?" She can hardly speak toward her wheezing breaths. "What is that monster?"

His voice harbours no pity.

"Ziev, Stranger to the Sun and Moon; God of Space, Time and the Emptiness Between the Stars."

She nearly stumbles. A god? That can't be... How could she possibly fight such a thing? Tightly, she closes her eyes, hoping that the nebulous black could offer some guidance...

As if hearing her doubt, the voice returns. "There is no time for weakness! This foe is beyond you; you cannot destroy him, but you can survive! Survive, Veliky!"

He's right. Opening her eyes, she can see some of the strongest adventurers in the world, gathered here. They might not be able to kill him, but they might just be able to live. She just needs to do what she always does: play the odds. Icy resolve suffuses her as she turns a frigid gaze to Kvasir and Cirice. She doesn't know who the hell they are, but that's a question for later, or perhaps never. Right now, they're factors - and so is she.

"You two! Fox, elf, with me!" she shouts with near-divine authority. "You got here somehow, right?! Let's see what you've got."

The lost child has all but vanished. The little woman, here, is a voice of absolute command. At her words, the countless constructs raise their weapons and adjust their stances. Where she points, arrows fly; where she walks, the mechanical militia follows. Her will is a bastion against the chaos.

As she raises a gloved left hand, vein-like streaks of holy white creep across her skin and down her arm, and she points at omnipotent Ziev with a power divine in its own right! Her voice is the voice of the heavens, her will is the will of justice, her demand is the demand of cosmic law!

"No weakness, no fear! God or not, he's still your enemy! And this is still your fight!" Leather squeals as she clenches her fist! "So FIGHT!"

Her words shine like the dreadful sunrise, imparting its scorching rays unto her allies and filling them with power unwavering^[1]! 

Then, as the light drains from her veins, she raises her right hand to her mouth. "Desperation!" she shouts inexplicably, yet causing a sigil of arcane blue to appear on the back of her hand, encircling a pictograph of a humanoid keeled over. She extends that same hand, and a debilitating pulse of mana detonates around the deity^[2]! Will it work? Veliky doubts it, but this is exactly the sort of battle that demands everything she has.

---

(Hey so this is normally when I'd just sort of let the minions exist in the background, but that ain't exactly an option in this fight. And, honestly, narrating them in any proper fashion would actually be far more confusing. So here's just a full recount of the actions taken by each of Veliky's minions. Hope this isn't too silly.)

BF-02: Going to maintain a dodging stance {Defensive Action} while just generally trying to annoy and distract Ziev by running around and occasionally biting/barking at it {Debuff Action}.

Bishop-11: Shoots Knight twice in the chest {Offensive Action x2} (This'll make more sense when you read what Knight does).

Cherub-01: Has yet to be summoned

Knight-02: Drinks the Witch's Brew (A.K.A. Blixt™ Kandy Korn), granting itself the ability to cast Soul Shackle {Buff Action}. Then casts Soul Shackle on Ziev {Debuff Action}, and lets Bishop shoot it twice. Hopefully this will transfer the damage directly to Ziev.

Lag Switch-06: Gonna be annoying as heck {Debuff Action} and maybe even take a bite out of the big guy {Offensive Action}.

Moonlight-01: Has yet to be summoned

Pawn-03: Will do exceedingly little, except for maybe run around and act as distraction {Debuff Action} while trying to protect its own artificial life {Defensive Action}.

Rook-13: Turns invisible {Buff Action} and poises itself near Veliky so that it can scoop her up and out of danger if need be {Defensive Action}.

ROUS-01: Does nothing

Silent Night-01: Casts Heavy Blizzard near Ziev {Offensive/Debuff Action} (Heavy Blizzard only harms enemies, if its description's to be believed) while maintaining evasive maneuvers {Defensive Action}.

Tropos-01: Shoots Ziev with two Lightning Bolts {Offensive Action x2)

---

1. Inspiring Presence {Buff Action}
2. Desperation {Debuff Action}

Bringing Minions
Bishop-11 (Warlord/Master Marksmen & Novice Stealth, Heavy Crossbow with Dashing, Surface Scaling)
Knight-02 (Warlord/Master Blunt & Novice Shield, Whip with Magic Blocker, Kite Shield)
Rook-13 {Captain's Badge} (Warlord/Master Stealth & Novice Alchemy, Invisibility, Cat's Grace, Major Healing Potions) (Carrying Sword for Dummies)
Tropos-01 (Sky Domain Apprentice)

Bringing Pets
BF-02 {Sleigh Bells} (The Goodest Boy)
Cherub-01 (Gargoyle Rook, does not take pet slot)
Lag Switch-06 (Ashlands Jackal)
Moonlight-01 (Ghastly Lantern, does not take pet slot)
Pawn-03 (Scarecrow Squire, does not take pet slot)
ROUS-01 (Door Mouse, does not take pet slot)
Silent Night-01 (Snow Owl)
Skoll and Hati (Dancing Chain x2, does not take pet slot)

To say Kvasir Sigurros has a tenuous relationship with divinity would be an understatement.

He is hardly pious; he is aware of the gods, respects them the way most do, offers a prayer or two to Solaria in thanks for the gifts that flow readily through his gold-stained veins, but his heart is rooted to this mortal plane more than it is to the heavens, nestled comfortably beneath a garden of earthly tethers. As far as he knows, it has always been that way, though he knows better than to trust his own memory; his semi-indifference toward deities is hardly helped by the sulfur-eyed parasite that settles in his soul, the one that scratches out his memories like they're mere pesky inaccuracies in some particular historical document.

And yet, for all his indifference and brief reverence and burning hatred for divinity, for Niloufar and Kasra and for Solaria and all his celestial council, no feeling surges to mind as Kvasir stares up at the fathomless, star-spun, infinite form of Ziev himself, divine features unveiling naught but steely apathy for the fragile mortal playthings that have fallen into his garden of stars.

He glances around him, a frantic energy surging to life beneath his skin, electric as Avasha's cruelest tempests-- there are silhouettes all around, some familiar, some not, but they all feel indistinguishable beneath the weight of what towers over all of them. Caedes and Gerhart are out there somewhere, he thinks. A few others. Cirice and some unfamiliar woman stand by his side, but it does not matter. They are ants, fragile and tiny and meaningless in the eyes of something as vast and unfathomable as a supreme god, and beneath the weight of empyrean power, they will crumble like them, too.

Kvasir has not felt this helpless since his skull was split in two by memories not his own.

"...Ziev," he whispers, disbelief etched into the word. "Ziev-- no-- no way--"

His breath hitches, throat tight, each attempt at oxygen more laborious than the last. This was supposed to be a fight against a cult leader-- he could handle that, but he's never been able to fight a god in his life, Sariya said it herself--

Vessel.

The voice is clear, though it does not sound around him, settling coldly in the recesses of his mind.

Vessel, I demand that you calm down, the God of What Once Was hisses. This is beyond you, beyond any mortal standing beside you, but you had best try. So help me, little fox, if you fail...

The Archivist King trails off, but his message is clear. Kvasir has little time to contemplate it as the woman beside him bursts to life, authoritative, eyes burning as she dictates action after action, a small army of constructs leaping to life beneath her order-- there is something admirable in it, in how easily she steps into the role of a commander, but ohhhh, he cannot help the way his tail bristles at being called "fox."

Now is not the time to bite out a line about being descended from the fox spirits of the Moonglade, though it lingers on his tongue all the same.

As soon as one of the constructs takes two shots from another, something clicks in Kvasir's mind; his earring. Who the hell knows if this thing is going to do anything to pierce a deity's defenses, but it's worth a shot. A spring morning's light surges to life in his palm as he steps forward, setting a hand against the injured construct and watching the wounds slip away-- as soon as they do, he can feel a gentle glow start to settle from the jewelry clinking from his ear. Not yet, but soon. [1]

He pauses for a moment, surveying the towering deity's actions; really, it's audacious to think his own magic can do much here, but he must try. There is no way out-- all that is left to be done is try. Clinging to those cloying vestiges of light, he spreads his palms apart, throwing forth a pane of brilliant translucent gold, enough to serve as a makeshift shield. [2] He does not know if it will do much, does not know if a god's wrath can be staved off by a mere mortal's will, but he will try.

They may all be ants beneath Ziev's feet, but oh, they will march on.

---

Action Summary:

1. Cast Major Healing on Knight {Support Action} (charging Life Spark Earring for next post)

2. Cast Wall of Light to shield group {Defensive Action}

Reality bends and twists in an instant, the strange otherworldly void stretching out around Cirice like an old friend. But here she isn’t alone, there are countless others, some familiar and some foreign, surrounding her. She opens her mouth to call for Iryla and Ulrich in the confusion as her very being lurches and she’s deposited into a different space with different people. Kvasir stands beside her, looking equally confused and the slightly familiar diminutive form of Veliky and her myriad constructs. Before she really has time to process this, process anything really, Scern is running toward them asking for help.

And then the towering figure of a god brings his fist to bear down on them, meeting nothing but a magical barrier above their heads. So this is what the visage of a god truly is, Cirice thinks to herself with detached interest, impressive. Her mind is racing, instinct telling her to panic, to flee and scream and beg for mercy, but her lips twist into a placid smile.

“My child,” Mother Moon’s voice fills her mind, a soft, comforting whisper, stronger and louder than ever drowning out any and every thought in her mind. “Look upon this fool. He stands, self important and assured of his victory. But gods can fall. What power do gods have that they do not derive from the men who worship them? Do not let this paltry being overcome you. Show him what true faith, what true power can do.”

Cirice turns her smile towards her companions, the sclera of her eyes as deep, black and fathomless as the void surrounding them with only the lilac of her glowing pupils standing stark and bright against the darkness. Veliky starts barking orders, her constructs, the same constructs Cirice remembers, rushing into battle with precision and fearless determination. Perfect.

“No weakness, no fear!” Veliky’s cry echoes in her ears filling her with even more fearless determination. “FIGHT!”

"I wonder..." Cirice’s voice comes out soft and musical, a peculiar duality layering her tone. “Do you think gods can be manipulated by mortals?”

With that she lets loose a giggle, her body being encased in deep purple shadows¹ as she runs forward at full speed, following behind the army of bots and skirting around to Ziev’s back, her hands finding purchase on his celestial flesh. The runes on her arms glow brighter than ever before, fiendish runes burning her flesh with violet light as she tries to twist Ziev’s mind to her will².

---

1 Black Shield (Buff action)
2 Be Jolly (offensive action)

She very nearly stumbles, and very nearly falls as everything snaps into place. Millions of emotions linger in her mind, strange ones that she's never felt before. There's a certain... warmth? But that's fading quickly. She remembers learning, then forgetting, then letting go and beginning the process again. It's so familiar that it feels almost instinctual, yet she can't place a single moment in her life that she's actually experienced it. It feels so close; she wants it, but it's slipping further away...

"Ignore it." His voice, resounding from nowhere, from some seam in her mind. He sounds... bored. Exasperated, even. "Try again."

"Again...?"

She can feel every ounce of her weight, threatening to buckle her knees. Why is she so exhausted? The bots, too; they're all emitting that irritating beep that she knows to mean 'low energy.' It takes all of Veliky's strength just to lift her head.

And there she sees him: that tower of existence, Ziev. And a realization clicks in the back of Veliky's mind.

"Oh. I get it. So that's your game?" She smears a bit of drool from her face, with a leather glove. She's a dishevelled sight, but she pushes forward for a shaky step. "Fine. Let's play."

She reaches into her coat-pocket and produces a bottle of brown-red Blixt™^[1]. Who would've thought that such a thing could aid in a fight against a god? She yanks the cork with her teeth, spits it out, and downs the entire bottle in one attempt! Its earthy texture and the artificial flavour of meat & beans inexplicably reinvigorate her, returning the energy that'd been robbed from her! It's as if she took full night's rest, a three-course meal and a drink of pure spring water in the course of just a few seconds.

She tosses the bottle aside, staring daggers at a god. Skoll and Hati hover dutifully around her. Though millions of emotions float in her head, fading away like stars at dawn, she knows that fear isn't among them.

Turning heel with favour and authority renewed, she looks to the two nearest adventurers. "Kvasir, Cirice, with me! Weaken this bastard as much as possible! And get Scern to work faster!"

It begins again. Turning her attention back to towering Ziev, she raises her right fist and speaks, "Desperation!" An extension of her palm detonates a debilitating pulse^[2] around Ziev's form. Will it work? Veliky doubts it, but this is exactly the sort of battle that demands everything she has. She has no idea that this is precisely what she did the last time, nor would she care if she did - math doesn't have such biases.

Though the Blixtbots™ are on the verge of shutdown, they jolt and rise at her command! Even as their arms screech, they aim their weapons wherever she points; even as their legs creak, they walk wherever she demands! Fatigued or not, they are an army, and they will fight like one.

---

(Aw shit, here we go again)

BF-02: Bites Ziev twice {Offensive x2}

Bishop-11: Shoots Ziev twice {Offensive x2} [Dashing], aiming specifically for the arms in hopes of benefitting from [Lightning Rune].

Knight-02: Whips Ziev twice {Offensive x2}, hoping to inflict {Magic Blocker}.

Lag Switch-06: Bites Ziev twice {Offensive x2}

Pawn-03: Just gonna try and annoy the hell out of Ziev {Debuff x2}

Rook-13: Turns Invisible {Buff} and protects Veliky {Defensive}

Silent Night-01: Casts Heavy Blizzard {Offensive/Debuff} and Snow Flurry {Debuff} on Ziev

Tropos-01: Shoots Ziev with two Lightning Bolts {Offensive x2}

---

1. (Flask of Feijoada) Blixt™ Feijoada {Support Action}
2. Desperation {Debuff Action}

If Kvasir had a Solar, or, hell, even a fragment of a Solar for every time a god tampered with his memories or his perception of reality, odds are he'd never have to worry about his financial stability again.

There is no splitting pain or blinding light, no agonizing feeling of his skull being rended apart by divinity-- there is merely that strange, floating sensation, the way it feels to drift just beneath the surface of water, oxygen within your grasp if you can only find the strength to move. A fog coils around the recesses of his mind, as it so often does, that all-too-familiar hazy feeling settling in as the memories slip from his grasp, mere drops in a murky, indistinguishable puddle. He thinks he did something, swears he remembers the flood of light surging from his fingertips, but the particulars of it slip between his fingers, as impossible to grasp as grains of sand.

He glances around, blinking slowly, every movement slow. He feels impossibly drained, all the energy sapped from his body the same way it was back in the World Crown, in the aftermath of that narrow escape-- but that had been in the wake of invasion of his own senses, in the wake of having his body torn apart and sewn back together, in the wake of fighting for his life. How could he feel so tired so suddenly...?

Just what has he forgotten this time?

"Damn you, Archivist King," he mutters beneath his breath, glaring up at the deity towering over them all with one steely eye. He doesn't know if this was Ziev's doing or Kasra's, but his veins sing with loathing all the same. Oh, how the immortal and omnipotent love to play with their fragile mortal dolls, tampering with their memories and tossing them around like their short lives mean nothing at all. "Haramzada..."

And why are you blaming me? that voice sounds, somewhere in his mind, somehow sounding genuinely offended. I did nothing at all-- only you could find a way to stare down an ancient power and still point the finger my way. Petty, petty, little fox.

"You understand why."

No, I truly do not. It is not my fault you are petulant and stubborn, and it is not my fault you cannot let the blame lie where it is meant to lie. Now why don't you stop talking to yourself and contribute? Fight. Do not fall under any illusion that perishing here will take me with you, vessel. I was always the persevering type.

Kvasir's breath hitches.

Do not lose. So help me, do not lose.

It is strange, really, to speak with the God of What Once Was. Usually he is an intrusive thought, not a conversation partner-- he speaks and accepts no answer, and certainly does not answer in turn. He views Kvasir as a body, as a means to an end, and nothing more; why would he wish to engage with a soul he is actively trying to erase, after all?

But it makes sense that he would speak to him directly just to offer a threat. He has his bravado, but it will not veil the truth, and the truth of the matter seems to be that he fears this situation as much as his so-called vessel does.

Kvasir does not want to think about it.

Instead, he glances over at the woman with yellow hair, watches her own frustration melt into determination, staving off her exhaustion with the will to fight-- somewhere in the corners of his mind, a name forms: Veliky. Her name is Veliky. He does not know her, but he knows that, and though he does not know why he knows that or why she knows his name, now is not the time or place to question it. This space is infinite, after all; there are parts of himself that were not there before, parts of himself that are missing, heavier streaks of white combing through his hair, a new intensity buzzing through the light magic he knows so well. Whatever this place is, it is capable of strange things, cherry-picking stray leaves from time's river and tossing them into the pile.

Either way, as Veliky launches into command, into action, Kvasir does as well; he steps to the side, closer to Veliky and Cirice and the small army of constructs, and he closes his eye, concentrating every bit of light he can summon into his palms. He thinks of noontime sunlight cresting over the buildings of Zeinav City, of the pink glow of the Lantern Light Wood, of a bright and brilliant smile, and he channels every thread of it into an aura that radiates from him, thrumming with willpower made light. [1]

Some of the exhaustion ebbs away, desperation settling in instead as he stares up at the god towering over them, his expression twisted into a grimace. Again. Again. As many times as it takes, he will do this again.

Kvasir reaches for his bow, the silver and gold filigree shining beneath the light of all the stars around them, and he aims for Ziev's uncaring eye and pulls back the string, holding and waiting as an arrow of pure light begins to form, nocking itself in place. He waits, waits until he thinks Ziev's attention may be drawn elsewhere, and then he fires, aiming right for the right eye of the god who towers over them. [2]

He does not know what it will do, if it will do anything at all, but he is prepared to run himself ragged until the castle starts to crumble.

Again.

Again.

Again.

---

Action Summary:

1. Cast Inspiring Presence on Cirice, Veliky, and Veliky's Army of NPCs and Pets {Buff Action}

2. Shot God in the Fucking Eye with Ray Bow {Offensive Action}

“He is playing with you, my child.” Mother Moon’s voice comes like a soft, amused caress against her ears as the trio finds themselves reversed in time, watching Scern work hard to cast his spell and return them home. There’s a lingering feeling of melancholy mixed with a fleeting warmth that fades into a vague yearning. But for what? Or whom?

 “Do not worry, the moments lost to the time eater are moments that never mattered.” Mother Moon's assurances soothe the vestiges of doubt and worry from her mind. “Focus on the enemy before you. Make. Him. Suffer.” Her last word comes out as a soft hiss of a command. 

Cirice is tired, her body aches with the fatigue of having made myriad actions and yet, none at all. She sees her friends also struggling against the exhaustion and yet pushing past it to jump into action. She can’t be left idle while her friends fight for their lives. If Ziev wants to fuck with them, they’ll play his game.

They’ll play and they’ll win.

The shadows well up in her eyes once more as Mother Moon's influence settles over her like a warm embrace. She places her palms together in prayer and the runes down her arms flare to violet light, melting her fatigue away¹.

“Now, where were we again? Oh yes, fighting a god.” She lifts a hand and snaps, sending a wave of pain through Ziev’s mind². “Let’s see if he does that again. Kvasir, Veliky my dear,” That seems right for some reason.... Strange, when did she learn the little businesswoman's name? No matter. Thats a question for later. "Give him hell!"

---

1 Remove Condition (support)
2 Thought Hemorrhage (defuff/offensive)

Bolts fly and the telltale bellows of war ring out; warbeasts fly and mana screams. What is gathered is an army that rivals Solarian's own - no match in volume, but in the power mustered.

But it isn't so simple as power against power. There is morale. There is weariness. And even in the most stalwart of hearts, there is burdensome weakness. And in times where such things weigh heavily, inspiration is often found in the strangest of places.

Strangest of places - like the tiny woman that marches between soldiers of metal and flesh alike.

"Maintain the offensive! Prepare another barrage! You'll know when to stop when either he's dead, or you are!"

She bellows her commands without even a scrap of remorse. Her eyes, shimmering in Kvasir's radiant aura, retain that cold-iron focus even as she walks amid the cries of a dozen artificial chords - cries that make a fell omen of the bots' steadily worsening conditions. She cares; of course she does, their condition directly impacts their performance. But she will push them to the brink because it is demanded of them, just as it is demanded of her.

"Don't bother aiming for weak spots! Just shoot and... huh?" She's distracted momentarily by Cirice, whose words ring with a wholeness and absolution that reminds her of... well, surprisingly quite a few people she's met, but it's telling nevertheless. Ray, Zarius, Caedes and that bastard from Thunderhoof all had it, too. And her eyes...

But, most importantly, how'd she know Veliky's name?

That's a question for later, and she hasn't the time to consider it anyway. As she looks back to Ziev, she knows that something is coming. She can feel it in the air - writhing mana, like the static before the storm. Whatever it's doing, it's going to be big. And it's staring straight at Scern.

"Dammit!"

Six dozen plans flash through her head, but none of them hold. She can't hope to save Scern; someone else will have to deal with that. But maybe she can use the situation to her advantage.

A heavy clank turns her head to the right. Beside her, the Knight has collapsed to one knee, its energy virtually exhausted. How convenient; she needed someone useless.

The god lurches, and the energy manifests into two omnipotent rays. She has to act now.

Without so much of a warning, she tips open the bot's chest with divine might^[1], takes a bottle of Blixt™ Kandy Korn^[2] and shoves it into the bot's chest compartment, where the fluid begins draining into the bot's engine. Its body begins to twitch and convulse in manners even more unnatural than ever, and black smoke filters out through its joints. But Veliky pays no mind; it'll be dust in a few seconds, regardless. As if to further demonstrate her disregard, her next act is to uppercut the bot with a celestially charged^[1] fist, sending it to reel several feet backwards - directly into the beam's trajectory.

Stumbling and twitching like Yoci after half a beer, the bot raises its hands. From the gaps in its hull, a deep-purple light seeps eerily. Its tin plates dent and fold from the force of... something... writhing trying to break free. And then it does; the bot violently spreads its arms and, shooting through its tin hull, dozens of thin tendrils grasp outward! They reach toward the god on the horizon, flying with incredible speed and then piercing the deity's divine skin^[3]. By wormlike threads, the soul of a machine is bound to the soul of a god.

"Good." she remarks, as impartial as can be imagined. "You're dismissed, Knight. Shut down."

"Mistress Veliky, affirmative: shutting down. Query: would you like me to-"

Around then is when the bot is annexed from existence by the beam of destructive essence. It was, needless to say, obliterated. But could this damage be reflected to Ziev? She will have to see. In the meantime, she can't dawdle; she has an army to command.

---

(At last we reach Round 2. Let's do it.)

Veliky: Aside from feeding Knight the potion and shoving it into the firing line (which, as I understand, don't count as actions at all), Veliky's going to bring in some reinforcements. She'll use the Gargoyle Rook, activating it to summon Cherub-01, and send it after Ziev. She'll also cast Summon Mount {Support Action} to bring in a Reindeer (A.K.A. Vixen-01). These units will both be added to the action economy from here on out. Then she'll shoot Ziev with her Musket for good measure {Offensive Action; buffed by Angelic Light and Inspiring Presence}. She'll also mount up on Vixen-01.

BF-02: Will continue to hound (hehe) Ziev by biting him twice {Offensive Action x2; buffed by Inspiring Presence}.

Bishop-11: Will shoot Ziev twice {Offensive Action; buffed by Dashing, Holy, Inspiring Presence and Lightning Rune}.

Cherub-01: Will fly around while mauling Ziev with its Claws {Offensive Action} and Fangs {Offensive Action}.

Knight-02: Casts Soul Shackle on Ziev {Debuff Action} and then gets fucking obliterated. Hopefully, getting damaged with a god-power ability will also damage Ziev with a god-power ability.

Lag Switch-06: Runs around and bites Ziev twice {Offensive Action x2; buffed by Inspiring Presence}

Pawn-03: Does it even matter? At this point Pawn's just trying not to get destroyed {Defensive Action x2}.

Rook-13: Will attack Ziev twice {Offensive Action x2; buffed by Holy, Inspiring Presence and Lightning Rune}, breaking invisibility only briefly.

Silent Night-01: Will engage in some evasive maneuvers {Defensive Action x2}.

Tropos-01: Will throw another couple of Lightning Bolts at Ziev {Offensive Action x2}.

Vixen-01: Will cast Flight on itself {Buff Action}, and will try to be as evasive as possible {Defensive Action}.

---

1. Angelic Light
2. (Witch's Brew) Blixt™ Kandy Korn
3. Soul Shackle {Witch's Brew} (Knight-02)

It is hard to say if anything they've done has had any effect at all.

If Ziev if capable of feeling pain, or if the countless tiny agonies laid upon him by mortal hands have broken through divine membranes, his face does not unveil it-- his countenance remains cool and aloof, inhumanly human features still clinging to that same sense of indifference as star-stained eyes rove over the ants who dare to raise a war banner against him. Even so, just because they cannot discern any difference does not mean they are not making one, and Kvasir knows better than to immediately assume the worst just because there is no visible physical sign.

He has seen too many patients in his life greet him with expressions of stone to immediately assume there has been no effect. There are people in this world who do not wear their pain outwardly, who can be unraveling from the inside-out and not so much as wince-- it is fair to assume that a god can face arrow and blade and the brutal sting of spell and still maintain the chiseled expression of a marble-cut statue.

There is hope. They merely need to cling to it.

Still, though, just because the stars still linger within their reach, it does not mean the light cannot still go dim. As fire burns in Ziev's eyes, honing in on Scern, knowing that the cultist bears the answers to escaping this mess, Kvasir knows that not a one of them can afford to let holy power fall upon their ticket out, no matter what wickedness sleeps inside his veins-- and as beams of light spill from divine eyes, moving to strike Scern, who looks so weary and pitiful in the midst of his spellcasting that it's doubtful he'll be able to escape, Kvasir does not hesitate to move.

He's prepared for this-- he is overly prepared for this, in fact. His hand slips down to the lotus-pattern sash at his hips, plucking a vial of prismatic liquid from the stitching on the interior, quick to pop the cork from it and down the contents in one quick motion; the taste hardly processes, it fades so quickly, but light thrums in his veins and something sings in his heart, something more than magic, more than light, alchemized divinity bestowing new gifts upon him for this moment and this moment alone as he walks over to Scern.

Kvasir's palm glows with countless colors as he places it against Scern's shoulder, the silhouette of translucent plates shifting into place, radiant, glowing with every shade of the rainbow as it settles over his body. [1] He is armored by a refraction of light itself, protected by a rainbow welded into translucent plate, and though one could hope that might be enough, Kvasir is hardly done yet. He plucks a second vial from his sash, this one containing liquid in the shade of a brilliant purple, glittering brilliantly beneath the light of the armor shielding Scern.

This elixir is not one of his own making; no, this is the invention of his one and only dear diviner, enchanter, storyteller, and heart attack, Morrigan Moonweaver, who is mercifully free from the chaos of all of this. Kvasir is not sure what he would do if he had to see them caught up in the midst of a battle with a supreme deity, regardless of their capabilities; they could strike down Solaria himself and Kvasir would still prefer to see them in the heart of the High Market, thriving at the center of attention, happy and safe as they deserve to be.

Not here.

"Drink this," he says simply, setting into Scern's hands, ignoring the flicker of confusion in the man's eyes. "Just trust me."

And with that, he swivels to face Ziev before them, the distant pulse of sunlight still flowing through his fingertips as he once again lifts his palms up, eye sliding shut. Summer mornings, spring afternoons-- the joy he'll know when they're out of here, when he gets to sleep in his own bed, when he gets to see Morrigan and Nyr and Wit again and escape at least one wretched divine interference in his life-- all of those faint vestiges of light converge, coalescing into one grand pane of gold, gently chromatic at the edges, one last line of defense laid between Scern and Ziev's judgement. [2]

Oh, he hopes this works.

---

1. Cast Armor of Faith through Pride of Solaria Elixir {Defensive Action}

2. Cast Wall of Light {Defensive Action}

B. Gave Scern a little bit of that Dragon-Be-Gone for the Homosexual Double Whammy (not an action, but worth noting)

Its working. Its almost imperceptible but they’re damaging the giant, self-important god as he looms over them haughtily. Ants they may be to him but a swarm of them biting and annoying him, chiseling away at his patience.

“Its working. We're hurting him! Take that you sorry excuse for a deity." Cirice grins gleefully, exhilaration clear on her face. Then Ziev’s eyes begin to alight with an ominous glow, one that would surely destroy them if they didn’t prepare for it.

As Kvasir throws up a wall of light before them she throws up another behind it¹, layering the walls for greater protection even as she steps in front of Scern and her friends, a mass of shadows covering her form². “Get behind me! Hurry!” She will not watch those she cares for die, if anyone will take the brunt of a god’s wrath, let it be her.

---

1 Wall of Light defensive
2 Black Shield defensive

Her heart nearly stops. She isn't sure why. She doesn't quite understand why the sight of Cirice and Kvasir being enveloped in the destructive beam fills her with such terrible fear and pain. But it does; in that moment, she doesn't have the wherewithal to question it. There's just a crushing sensation of loss. Plain upon her face, enlightened by the beam's blinding light, is all the ill-processed sorrow of a child that's just lost their parents. Eyes wide in unspoken fright, mouth agape in a silent scream, body frozen like a widow in an archer's sight.

Kvasir... Cirice... names she's never learned, yet that ring in her mind with such anguish, like the choirs that ring in the halls of the heavens. Horror sung so sweetly...

But there is no song.

There's just hate - rising in her, writhing in her jugular. The red chains bind the towering deity, and Veliky doesn't need Scern's permission to attack. Yes, she will unleash everything. If Ziev doesn't die, he will hurt.

Still atop her star-soaring steed, she turns her gaze to Ziev, eyes burning with arctic fire. She doesn't see the beam dissipate. She doesn't see that Kvasir and Cirice survived the blast, that they're okay. She just sees her target, and forces the frozen gears in her mind to discern the best method of destruction, even as flames lick their titanium teeth.

One last gambit. This'll be the end of the game, one way or another.

---

(Okay time to shoot god or somethin)

Veliky: Shoots Ziev twice with a musket {Offensive Action x2; buffed by Angelic Light and Inspiring Presence}.

BF-02: Starts ripping at Ziev's shins, biting twice {Offensive Action x2; buffed by Inspiring Presence}.

Bishop-11: Shoots Ziev twice with a heavy crossbow {Offensive Action x2; buffed by Dashing, Holy, Inspiring Presence and Lightning Rune}.

Cherub-01: Claws {Offensive Action} and Bites {Offensive Action} Ziev.

Lag Switch-06: Bites Ziev twice simultaneously like the jank-ass dog it is {Offensive Action x2; buffed by Inspiring Presence}.

Moonlight-01: Vibin casually.

Pawn-03: Vibin aggressively.

Rook-13: Vibin lethally. Slashes Ziev twice with the Sword for Dummies {Offensive Action x2; buffed by Holy, Inspiring Presence and Lightning Rune}.

ROUS-01: Vibin existentially.

Silent Night-01: Vibin exhaustedly.

Tropos-01: Vibin electrically. Shoots Ziev with two more Lightning Bolts {Offensive Action x2}.

He's... alive.

Something about this surprises him, and Kvasir cannot say why-- it was not as though he necessarily expected the palm of death to touch him as he stepped beneath divine eyes, into the range of those dreaded beams, but when you stand beneath the breath of stars and feel their heat, the grave seems a bit closer than it might have before. But despite the fact that starfire had been mere centimeters away, deflected by thin panes of light and whatever other defenses this army of ants could produce, he still stands. He still breathes.

Inhale. Exhale.

He feels himself walk away from Scern's side, footfalls silent against the pool of nebulae circling beneath his feet, starbound fish curiously swimming beneath a glass bridge. His heart pounds distantly, violently, a fist against a wall, a desperate message punched out in a pulse, a reminder that despite everything, he is alive. He has stared up at the unloving face of a so-called god, played a part in deflecting his power, and still he walks the same, one step and then another in the same pattern, the same cycle, as he always has, as if this is any other battle in any other place and not some divine battleground with some divine puppeteer.

Sariya's old, whispered words still ring somewhere in his mind, resonant as ever, but they feel far away-- she feels far away, somewhere down in the heart of the desert, while he walks among stars and the space between them. What would she think, now, seeing a small army of mere mortals defy a god's will, counter his every move, stand so close to defeating him? Would she know remorse? Could anything shatter her resolve?

Kvasir does not know, and in this moment, it does not matter. The battle is not yet won, however near the end feels, however loudly Scern cries out for their last brutal onslaught. He feels himself comes to a stop, standing near Veliky and her mechanical army once more, distantly aware that Cirice is not with them yet. What a strange and reckless girl she is, armoring herself in the veil of shadows and begging others to stand behind her, as though her body could serve as a valuable enough shield. She is alright, too, he thinks. She still stands. She still breathes.

He feels his arm rise, the coolness of metal bleeding through the fabric of his glove as he takes hold of his bow once more, lifting it before him so he may once more deliver arrows of piercing sunlight to the eyes of this divine entity. He feels his left arm lift it, his right hand moving along the bowstring, fingertips pulling it back so light can burst forth at his fingertips, alive and alight, forming an arrow of glittering gold. [1]

He feels the string snap, watches the arrow fly forth.

He's tired.

He pulls the bowstring again, fingertips shaking as light pulses into the shape of a barb, of ammunition, ready to make its mark once more.

He's so tired.

"May this be enough," Kvasir whispers quietly, to no one in particular, not to Veliky or to Cirice, not to Ziev or to Scern, not to one of the countless little soldiers who've been caught up in this fight, not to the god that watches and waits and appraises from the safety of his consciousness, using his memories as a shield.

The arrow finally forms, and he lets go. [2]

---

Action Summary:

1. Shot God in the fucking eye {Offensive Action}

2. Shot God in the fucking eye part two electric boogaloo {Offensive Action}

The dread beams from Ziev’s eyes bear down upon her, radiant, hateful divine energy shattering the walls of light before her like glass.

But Cirice stands.

Wreathed in the shadows of the very abyss the wrath of Ziev is merely a tickle, a bright and spectacular annoyance.

“See? Weak. He stands there and touts himself a god, but yet he cannot destroy you. Look at him now, restrained and helpless before you. End him.” Mother Moon’s honeyed words hum in her bones.

Veliky and her army have moved to fight, her white-hot hatred cutting a swathe of destruction against the shackled deity. Kvasir has fired ruthlessly into the eyes of the monstrosity with precision. Now its her turn.

Cirice is not a damage dealer, that is not her preferred method of handling problems, but Ziev warranted all the damage she could muster. The writhing shadows around her recede down to just her hands, viscous claws of darkness coalescing around them. She grins viciously and once more runs forward towards Ziev, until her claws bite deep into the starry flesh. As her hands touch his body deep violet energy surges down the runes on her arms and into him before siphoning away divine energy and sucking it into Cirice herself.

"Be a good boy and die."

---

1 Death Swipe - Offensive action
2 Vampiric Touch - Offensive action