[OOC: Let Kythe enter first. After that, just ask in Discord if you want to join before you do. Feel free to use the conversation from this first post, by the way, in any other threads you guys have for Calamity's Edge. :3]

Into Hades’ Lair

It was the first time I remember the city being so alive, but also a time that felt strangely familiar. I guess it had always been like that in hindsight, given the hellish nature of the ruin. Yet still, Calamity’s Edge felt different from its usual self when the Azhizheth campaign began in earnest.

The bastion on the edge of Revaliir space had always been a peculiar ruin: a place where sound was your enemy rather than your friend. To hear even the slightest pebble shift in that dusty corpse was a sign of looming death, so the golden rule among the few, frequent visitors was also a silent one.

Those belonging to the rare breed of Void Hunters who traveled there knew how easy it was for the area to play on preconceptions and careless trust. The Revalitte squadrons who descended on the city circa Azhizheth’s invasion, however, did not. Even veteran warriors fell to the Twisted and Sentinels alike, full of bravado and chivalry until the bitter end. Their screams transformed that once silent city into a wholly different animal: a representation of the notorious Greek Tartarus.

I was there when the fighting started, though far away from the front lines. Perched atop the roof of a tall spire in the market district, I was using my Optics to watch the carnage below. Never once did I join the fray personally, however, at least during the conflict’s initial moments. Not because of lack of motivation; but because I was sadly more informed than the conscripts who threw themselves upon the devil’s mercy.

It is most unfortunate that the role of an informed observer is such a lamentable one, especially when said observer recognizes the true difficulty of a group project where others do not. The violence that shook Calamity’s Edge, for instance. It was known to me as a distraction and nothing more. To Azhizheth, these interlopers were mere pests in his home; and their deaths would only feed his army. They were doing him a favor.

I knew that, but it wasn’t like I could just tell these people to pick up and head back to the surface. Their invasion was an impossible situation, one that very nearly sent me home in exasperation until a most ominous - but nostalgic - voice echoed through the streets.
 
“So many times you’ve come into my city,” the voice began by hijacking the communication infrastructure, “yet not once have you visited me in person. I wonder if today will be any different. Well, Greed?”

Rarely did The Eye deign to speak with any who entered his abode, let alone insignificant mortals. Yet for once he was using his absolute control over Calamity’s magical subsystems in order to send a public message: a message that sounded like nonsense to the majority of people there. To me, however, it was a personal summons, one I greeted with trepidation.

The idea this presented was a risky gambit, for traveling to the center of Hades’ lair had never ended well for anyone or anything. My puppet could very easily be killed the moment I even tried to enter that place, thereby removing me from play for the rest of the war regardless of my best efforts. But some things didn’t add up when I considered the possibility that this summons was a trap.

Primarily, what would be the point of Azhizheth even doing that? I had already given my information to not one but two of the conclave before he and his ilk made their move. In doing so, I had allowed those members to prepare in advance and help in the creation of weapons to be used against the Twisted army before it arrived. Even if Azhizheth simply wanted revenge for all that, anyone who called me by the name he used, by Greed, would know the futility of holding such a grudge.

Ultimately, I decided to accept the invitation, and made my way down into the streets until an odd sight temporarily stopped me in my tracks. The Twisted – and even the Sentinels – were purposefully avoiding me. Every time one drew near, they would suddenly turn roundabout and head in the other direction. It was very obvious that they were being directed away from me. Obvious that my trip was anticipated.

Azhizheth wanted something, but I would not find out what until I made it past the nests and into that putrid court of his. The stench was mind numbing as I stood there before his twisted form, even though my plague attire kept the majority of smells at bay. The psionic energies didn’t help either, making the experience most uncomfortable as I waited for my dangerous host to speak.

“At last you come,” he bellowed with a somewhat garbled voice, still using the communication system to broadcast to his city, “yet you do not speak a word. You really don’t have any trust to spare, do you? None of your kind do, it seems.” He paused, probably expecting an answer; but I did not give one. I simply waited for the inevitable follow up, knowing he had more to say. “You know, I’ve always been quite curious about you. You cling to your humanity like it’s your sick, dying pet and you just can’t fathom the thought of letting it go. Even though you’ve long since been reduced to using puppets like this, you continue to eke out a dream you can never fully realize. Dagron and Gol-Sleysh were curious about this as well, though mostly because they’ve had more personal interaction with you. To think that that irksome child these insects call The Voice would hire you, of all things: another of our kind to contain us.”

Before that point, I had suspected that Azhizheth knew more about me than I originally thought. My first clue was that the Twisted knew where my home was in the Void. They had attempted an ill-fated raid against it almost immediately after my visit with Shiloh, and synchronized perfectly with Dalanesca’s downfall. The coincidence of those events was too much, but it wasn’t until this meeting that my suspicions were confirmed.

Azhizheth knew about me, and was trying to use me. I intended to find out how, but first I was compelled to correct him on his assumption that the two of us were alike.

“Contrary to your beliefs, Azhizheth,” I retorted to what I think was a smiling abomination. “we are very different beings.” Still, he persisted.

“And yet I sense the same hunger in you as in all of us. Your hunger is greed; this much is obvious. Yet you gave much to these creatures to help them prepare for my salvation. I wonder what you desire so much that it moved you to do that, to imprison and attack your brothers.” I admit, I vomited in my mouth a little when that creature called himself my sibling, but I was glad he said what he did when he did. He had revealed a glimpse of his hand, and that was all I needed to shake off much of my hesitation from earlier.

“You would love to know that, wouldn’t you,” I asked him with a smirk of my own – though one hidden between mask and collar? “I did wonder what kind of eater you were before I came here, and now I know for sure. You’re a Pride eater. That’s how you took advantage of Dalanesca, but you’re irritated that your specialty won’t work on me. You are aware, somehow, but aware nonetheless that inciting my pride would merely destroy you. Not today, perhaps, but eventually. You know that, so you’re trying to find leverage to use against me instead.”

Up until this point, my grotesque host had been broadcasting our entire conversation to city for whatever reason. Once I called him on his bluff, however, he severed those connections. Perhaps that was accidental, for he had begun to laugh quite heartily at my remarks. Apparently, he found this creature in front of him humorous.

“You’re not as dumb as you look, Greed” he told me; though his words left much to be desired. I found myself wondering what would happen next, for many things could go wrong in that space. Would he simply let me go? Or was he planning something more sinister? SAI was already running the calculations regardless of the outcome.

From the moment of her birth, Kythe had been destined to spend her years fighting - fighting wars for herself, for her friends, for her family, for her race, for her home, for her world. She had taken this with good grace, questioning it in her youth but resigning herself to that fact regardless. She had been born during the Eclipse, her Mark was on the wrong side of her face, she was always going to be dragged into situations such as this. 
No matter what world Kythe had found herself in, she had always been drawn into battle - she was born a warrior, no amount of wishing could change that for her, and she was a natural leader; her need to protect others would always drag her back into the fold and she knew that if she was called upon she would always answer, it was in her very nature. She had made a name for herself because of it; in DaeLuin she had become famous leading the Rangers during the Battle of Raining Blood, she had lost a dear friend that day, but they had won the battle… Odd, to think back on that day, she had lost her sight thanks to Darthin, and in turn Nifftin had abandoned her when she had needed her lover the most, betraying her with Luthene while she struggled with her blindness… odd to think back and remember that it was Darthin, the 'monstrosity' that had taken her sight, that had nursed her back to health and captured her heart for a time. He had been evil, but in truth so too was her son, and did Alairia not love him?

Another fight, another battle, another war. She led her Guild from the front lines, just as she always had, for she would never ask her members to race into the fray if she could not do such a thing herself. Just as before, she rallied her people to her and led them into the enemies arms, hoping to save the rest of the world from this blight. A new enemy though these creatures were, and unique in their abilities and horrors, the fight itself was all too familiar. Together, Kythe, Raith and Valandil burned the monsters from the land, taking on the larger and more dangerous creatures so as to keep their friends and family safe from harm. They sustained wounds, but given the size of the three Dragons, they took little notice of them - they had a job to do, and their lives were forfeit to that. 
Kythe had felt the presence of something darker in the world, and had felt herself drawn to it. She had hesitated, at first, for the sheer feeling of the thing was enough to cause even her courage to come into question. But they all knew she would go, it was who she was, she was the one who would run head long into battle first so as to save even one more person from dying - if she could sacrifice herself for another, then that was exactly what she would do… and it was exactly what she intended to do. 

There had only been one lingering look, over her shoulder, at those she loved, before she had opened herself a Gate and vanished through it, closing the door before Valandil could even think about following after her. She hated leaving her Bondmate behind - whatever happened to her would happen to him regardless of the distance between them, and vice versa, but she could not bear the thought of him being used against her, and hurt to punish her in return. As Kythe entered the Void, she was struck once again by that foul presence, that thing that caused a foul stench throughout Calamity's Edge. 
A voice struck her, something about it's very tone causing the lips from each of her three heads to pull into a snarl, revealing her sharp and bloodied fangs. Whatever this creature was, it was the source of the attack, and that was apparent. With a flick of her powerful wings, Kythe followed the voice until she spotted another being speaking to the monstrosity. A hiss escaped the Minadrian woman in her Draconic form, she cared not for the danger she found herself in now with Hades' Lair - she had made her decision, and she was ready to die for it, she would not allow this thing to take her home from her, not now that her family had all settled here. 

The voice vanished, and somehow this made Kythe more cautious, something about the silence unnerving the woman. She made her way to the other woman, her colossal Dragon form dwarfing the woman the creature had been speaking to. "So you are the one who threatens our home," Kythe stated simply, her emerald eyes, unblinking as she spoke. "There is always another, who believes that they can take whatever they like from others, regardless of whether it is theirs or not. Well, Revaliir is not yours, nor shall it ever be, not so long as there is breath in those that call this place home."

The Void was a terrifying place. Not because it was rife with danger, but because it was the greatest unknown to all. A predictable location could make risks manageable. The Void was uncharted and endless. Even if she wasn't a deity the very thought of walking past the World Tree's protective influence had her shaking on the inside. Calamity's Edge was a specter of its former self and overrun by things lurking in the dark. Things which made death by hanging, drowning, and burial at sea seem peaceful and humane. Pins and needles broke out all over Shiloh's skin and she subconsciously was holding her breath. For what–you might ask? For her sanity and safety. You were never safe here, even when you were alone. 

Walk silently, carefully, cautiously. Her time in the fae realm had taught her well. Trust nothing you could see or hear. You were your own worst enemy and a split second of inattention meant you were dead. Moving in large groups posed more dangers than moving alone because there were more chances to slip up. She was already heading back to the portal that marked the boundaries of Revaliir when a booming, unsettling voice came loud and clear through the abandoned ruins. It was imperious, snide, arrogant. All beneath a low distorted warble that grated on her ears. Heavens above, it was Azhizheth.  

She felt her heart freeze with terror. It took a few moments for Shiloh to realize it was talking to someone else but that didn't take away any of the edge. If it weren't for Natsumi"s brief introduction to the categories of World Eaters that offhand remark would've flown over her head. At the moment she only knew Eytelia's prisoners were Wrath-class based on how they operated. She had no idea what kind Azhizheth was, but now it seemed as if it was talking to another one…classified as "Greed". The discovery of not one–but two eldritch abominations released for the ocean's depths was catastrophic enough; what if Azhizheth was trying to call in another? 

Everything within her being was screaming to run,  to get out of this place. But as she turned tail and fled the Horror's one-sided conversation continued. More names were thrown out, 'Dagron' and 'Gol-Sleysh'. Those were the smaller two 'surprises' which Azhizheth's forces unleashed. But the rest of the conversation didn't make sense. Azhizheth was accusing 'Greed' of being hired by the Voice–the world's remaining World Tree–to keep the other three known World Eaters in check. Another voice echoed through the dead city, one that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She swore she knew that voice, but she was half-sure she was likely hallucinating. The next revelation was more than anything Shiloh had been mentally prepared for: a Greed-class World Eater was fighting against other World Eaters. 

That was the last straw. 

She was out, running madly to the exit back to relative safety. The longer she stayed the more she thought she was losing her mind. For some reason she recalled the overall oddness of the end of her last encounter with Natsumi, the unasked questions Shiloh had kept to herself, little things that nagged at the corners of her thoughts. Why did Natsumi know so much about World Eaters? Even though she explained that she was an Archivist, she was very familiar with the smallest of details. Details that only someone with intimate knowledge of the subject would be aware of. 

Her mind was already jumping to a conclusion, but she didn't want to finish that train of thought. Because if she did, she was afraid that she might be right. 

But that’s when Azhizheth showed me a picture. It was garbled in quality, displayed on a crystal screen surrounded by fleshy tendrils. Yet the subject was clear enough from where I stood.

“Ah, and here comes another of the Voice’s current ilk,” he said while showing me a feed of Shiloh in the manufacturing district. “I believe she’s one of those you warned, isn’t she? I guess I’ll have to prevent her from leaving, since I need another knight if you won’t help me.” The sound of a large creature activating stirred in the distance, but I could not hear anymore of it thanks to the beating of wings overhead. A three-headed dragon of sorts had foolishly entered The Eye then, speaking directly to Azhizheth after she landed as if completely failing to understand the ramifications of her actions. Kythe’s words were valiant, sure, but oh how little she understood about the creature of her. “My my,” the looming tree abomination muttered from a pair of lips it manifested specifically for the new guest, “so many pests and ungrateful guests today. And yet I do not recall inviting the presence of anyone but Greed here. But you are quite the prideful one to take advantage of her entrance and somehow think I wouldn’t squash you immediately, aren’t you? Perhaps… perhaps we share something in common.”

I was not proud of the part of me that decided to leave the draconian to her fate in that moment, but my survival instinct won out over my honor. I took advantage of Azhizheth’s current fascination with her, quietly moving toward The Nests until he unfortunately took notice of me once again. “Where do you think you’re going, Greed?” A wall of flesh rose to block my path, the tree’s giant eye affixing itself directly upon my head. “Such a rude guest to leave without saying goodbye.”

But I did not wait. There was no longer any room for subtlety now that I had been spotted, so a quick flick of my wrist summoned my Redeemer from nothingness. I quickly loaded the sniper compartment with a Maasi Bolt from the quiver on my hip, wasting no time in loosing that projectile into the wall in front of me. The impact released the concentrated pocket of Massi Ironclad gas contained within; and, shortly thereafter, I ignited the flammable flatulence with a fireball from the Redeemer barrel.

The result of all these steps was a minor explosion that tore through the barrier separating me from the outside, creating a hole wide enough for my body to slip through. The flesh closed in the wake of that escape, but I was no longer contained within by the time the regeneration could catch up. Then again, I was also not safe, even as I was sprinting away toward the outskirts of the city.

“Ah, and there she goes,” Azhizheth lamented my departure, but almost disinterestedly so. He passed beyond it with nary a second to grieve; instead turning his attention squarely onto the creature that remained. Knowing him, he was intent on gaining a powerful new knight no matter who it was, and Kythe was just a convenient target like Odyllus had been. I warned the dragon, of course, but there was no way to tell if she would heed my warning before it was too late.

~If you value your life in the slightest,~ I told her, ~you will leave this place immediately. You cannot fight him with brute force no matter how powerful you are on Revaliir.~

Azhizheth’s Gambit

The siege of Calamity’s Edge had continued relentlessly even during that meeting with its overlord. Yet, up until the point of conclusion, Azhizheth, the cause of the World Eater War, had only been using his rooks, pawns and bishops. He had yet to use his queens or knights; and, now that a particularly juicy prize had presented itself in the form of Shiloh, he actually felt the need to deploy them.

First of their rank to appear, and perhaps the least disgusting of all, was actually sitting at the portal that Ms. Kyrie had sprinted toward in a fit of paranoia. It was patiently awaiting her arrival: a colossal Sentinel that had once been the city’s last resort to put down riots. Known only to people as Arachnea, this arachnid shaped creature of metal and flesh combined loomed over the portal that Shiloh had come through on her trip to Calamity. Yet it was not waiting to kill her. No, the beast had other plans. It had already removed the grisial crystal powering the portal by the time the retreating goddess arrived, deactivating her escape and stowing the power source on its underbelly. Then, as if to rub salt on the wound, it also released a magical disrupter pulse: one specifically meant to interfere with any navigational magic that its prey might try in desperation.

The Sentinel’s only instructions were thus: keep Shiloh Kyrie from leaving. It was a menacing opponent, to be sure, but one that would not attempt to kill her. Instead, Arachnea stayed just out of reach, keeping the grisial crystal it held from responding to the gate’s homing signal: the same one that kept pulsing like a dying mouse in need of its cheese. It would do whatever it took to lure Shiloh further into the city’s depths. 

All three of Kythe's heads snarled, flames licking at her maw. "I come because this place is my home, my own life is forfeit, as it always has been. Yes, I am prideful, I am proud of the people in my life and all that they and I have achieved, and I will not see one such as you take that from us," she answered. Kythe knew, deep down, that she was not strong enough to defeat this creature, to stop it in it's destruction - but if she could slow it… if she could do enough damage or divert it's attentions for long enough to allow someone else, someone stronger than she, to find a way to end it or send it back from where it had come from, then so be it - this was not the first time she had gone against dire odds to save those she loved, if this was to be where she met her end then at least it would be for a good cause. "And what does one such as yourself believe we have in common?" Kythe asked, aware that the other people had turned to leave her here, she did not mind - she had come to give her life, no one else had to do that if they were not prepared for it. 

Kythe's left head turned to see the wall of flesh that had halted the other woman's escape. It seemed that this monstrosity wanted the woman here, that she was exactly who it wished to speak with. She watched as the woman cleverly made her escape, nodding with respect as the wall closed up, leaving Kythe with the creature before her. "I don't intend on leaving. If this is where I fall then so be it. My life for those I love. I know I cannot destroy him, but maybe I can distract him for a time… if that is all that I can do here, then it is what I will do. If you know how to kill this thing, or at least stop him, I beg you, do so, find those that have the strength to end him. At least then the death of myself and my unborn sons will not have been in vain." Kythe responded telepathically, six emerald eyes focused once more on her enemy. 
"You seem upset that she has left you, old acquaintances?" 

Unlike other individuals being harassed by the resident eldritch horror, Shiloh had no interest in sacrificing herself–especially not here in enemy territory. She had no intentions of leaving behind a powerful corpse for Azhizheth to use against her own family and Conclave members. After all, look at what he had done to Dalanesca while she was still alive. It was a fate far worse than permanently being erased from existence, watching your body mow through innocents and allies like a slaughter doll while you were helplessly trapped inside it. No, she was getting out of here pronto. You could call her a coward, self-absorbed, or even shameless. But she knew better; why fight a battle you couldn't win? What good was going out in a 'blaze of glory' when you could pull a tactical retreat to live and fight another day, better prepared and better informed? Unfortunately Shiloh realized she had made her first mistake by coming alone into the void in person far too late as she came upon the portal–seeing a sight that made her heart drop to her stomach.

The portal was deactivated–the swirling energies that formed the gate between the Void's edge and Revaliir gone. A hulking figure that was both monster and machine loomed above the portal that should have led out of Calamity's Edge. Eight massive limbs and an arachnid body, it looked a lot like the smaller gargeels but much stronger and larger. Her first instinct was to open a portal out, even if her magic outside of psionics and shadow weren't as reliable. When nothing was happening, she retried to cast it again and again to no avail. With her divine status granted by the Voice she had received an increased capability with spatial distortion among other things, but the fact it was failing repeatedly meant something was preventing the completion of casting. The horrific flesh-metal amalgam leaped up, and it was in that split second Shiloh caught a glimpse of the portal's missing grisial crystal in its underbelly. After rolling away to avoid being crushed, this new tidbit of information was the last straw. With all potential escape routes blocked off and no hope in sight–she had an emotional meltdown. 

Shaking uncontrollably, Shiloh started hyperventilating as the terror was spreading through out her body. She was trapped. SHE WAS TRAPPED. Backed into a corner, unable to teleport, unable to open a portal to safety, unable to call for help and totally isolated from the main body of fighters in Calamity's Edge! There was no way she could fight a Sentinel of that size, none of her weapons were remotely sharp or strong enough to cut through the tip of its leg! Her fit of panic was abruptly cut short as the eight-legged abomination started making its way towards the ruins with the only known power source for the portal on its body. "No! NONONONONONO–" Screeching words poured out of her mouth as she desperately tried to stop the accursed thing from leaving with her one ticket out of Calamity's Edge. She had to stop it, she had to stop it at all costs! Once it was in the city it would be all over, the other smaller sentinels and Twisted would swarm her to prevent her from getting the precious crystal back. Half-mad with panicked rage, she chased after it and cast a spell she thought she would never use.

Shiloh's form split into three identical copies, all running at the mechanical flesh golem with the wind at their backs. This was the best she could do with teleportation and gate travel disabled, and they all began attacking Arachnea in their own different ways. One of them began throwing skyshard boomerangs at it, each one enchanted with magic to explode on contact. Another charged at one of its legs with a switchaxe, attempting to hack it enough to slow its movement. The last of her copies blasted herself at full speed using the vortex of a tornado to give her an upward boost, swinging a grappling hook in hand to get as close to the grisial crystal as possible. Her aim was perfect, the hook anchored just right, and she was just about ready to cut the crystal free when it zipped away from her–out of reach. Her hands started shaking again when the spider golem seemed to be aware of her presence underneath itself, and leaped into the air even higher than before. Dangling by the grappling line, Shiloh was thrashed about as Arachnea's movements turned frenzied. 

Crashing down with immense impact while mashing against the ground in a metronomic fashion, she and all of her duplicates were flung off. Hitting the ground with a barely softened landing, her eyes went wide as the Sentinel fired shots of webbing at all of her selves. The only one 'true' self dodged the blast as the others dissolved, narrowly escaping Arachnea's snare. The fact she had tucked and rolled while using the wind to push herself the right way was sheer luck. It was times like these that her luck finally decided to kick in, though she knew better than to believe it was working in her favor. But with how things were going now, even more copies of herself wouldn't be enough to swipe the crystal without the Sentinel pulling it away at the last moment.