The Precipice: Part One

[Taelian Edevane]

18th of Frost, Year 4621

He had spent the last few days preparing for the journey. Contrary to what he believed, actually determining a location suitable to leap from had been difficult. All of his trial runs had resulted in significant devastation, and a noise so loud that it seemed to echo for miles. It was a booming sound, one that curled inward only to release outward attached to a stream of kinetic force. Taelian practiced Interplanar Resonance multiple times as he awaited their departure, with the first trials yielding results that almost culminated in his death. The last time -- the trial that actually saw success -- an Orkhai emerged through his portal, forcing him to take up arms and slaughter the crimson-skinned thrall as it brandished its blade and roared.

Bel was horrifying. He had only been allowed a brief glimpse inside, and already he began to question the purpose of his journey. Getting in would be far easier than returning. Taelian had three more Resonators stored in his satchel, but if they lost those, the only way through would either be to create more (and thus risk Mageblight) or to find a Barrengate. He was absolutely unwilling to try the latter.

With a telescope-like object standing upright at the edge of a hill, Taelian settled the last Resonator into its slot, turning on one of the dials before connecting the three ethereally. He wore a black, velvet-textured fabric over much of his body, sleek and clinging to his form with silver armor running along much of the length. The majority of his chest, nearly all of his arms and his upper and lower legs were covered in this silver plate, with a claymore attached to his back -- Ard Fuil.

His backpack filled with water and rations, and a satchel attached to each side, he appeared as ready as he could get. The only thing he lacked was a bedroll; Taelian refused to sleep out in the open. Not in Bel. If they could not find the chasm on the first day of their travels, they would either need to deprive themselves of rest or return to Atharen.

With the Resonators fully prepared, the man nodded, his features reshaping into a stale grimace. He knew he would need to shake off those last vestiges of hesitation, but he couldn't yet. Maybe, he thought, it would be easier when Taryn came.

He had left the other man a letter, which he would receive upon meeting with Harald. Specific directions to the hill he had been utilizing were within, as well as how quickly he expected him to arrive. Until then, Taelian meditated beneath the sun's surveying eye, taking in the warm glow as he tried to clear himself of worry. The one Orkhai he'd met had been a fearsome warrior. Dregs were even moreso -- and almost all of them were violent. It was the way of that plane; demented, spiteful and raw. There was clearly nothing worse than a Living God scorned. He only hoped his father was not the same, and equally that he would give him the time of day. Taelian had turned his back on him once, by choosing to let his gift slide.

"It'll be alright," he muttered to himself. "Just... breathe."

[Taryn]

Taryn’s wings flapped in the warm winds that wrapped around his form. He could make out the figure of Taelian resting in his place beside an object that he had never seen before. His father had only ever spoken of stories about the machinations of Resonance. The magic of sound and teleportation. Even to him, it was a force to be reckoned with that made some of the powers that he wielded himself pale by comparison. The ability to cross the divide between entire dimensions of existence was testament enough to its power and more specifically, to Taelian. He folded in his wings and angled his body so that he could drop lower. The shadow of his form passed over the nobleman before Taryn dropped down completely. He landed in a crouch, the thud of his heavy boots coming down upon the earth solidly. His wings spread to brace his descent and it was only when he rose to his full height that he retracted them to keep balance.

He was dressed in the armor that he had to his name, the instructions given to him providing that Taelian would have the armaments ready for him once they met up. Even still, he held no shame in wearing his humble vestments. They had kept him alive thus far and in doing so, had done their job well. In the time since the two of them had parted, Taryn had both enjoyed himself and contemplated the path ahead. He was walking into what was undoubtedly certain death to many. He did not particularly care. He was a man who should have died years ago. He would not let the threat of death prevent him from keeping his word. He had agreed to protect Taelian on this journey, so that was what he would do.

He took in the sight of the man before him. Dressed in a blend of silver and black armor with a blade the likes of which he had never seen before, Taryn arched an eyebrow. Which was enough to show just how impressed he was with the ensemble. Even in the halls of the Earls of Radenor, Taryn did not believe that he would have seen such fine armaments.

“You look…” He searched for the right word. There it was again. That noble air that clung to Taelian. It shone from within him as something more than just being an aristocrat. It had nothing to do with wealth or prestige and more to do with simply who he was.

“You look ready.” He finished. It wasn’t what he wanted to say but it was what came to him to relieve the awkward pause. He carried with him a satchel that had within it the rations and supplies that he could afford. He had two full waterskins and was fully prepared to have to fashion more for the two of them to drink. He had made sure to keep himself hydrated following that first night of revelry. The last thing he wanted was to be going into the depths of hell with a hangover. Even if his first instinct had been to get as high as a kite and as drunk as cheap ale could get him.

“What’s that?” He nodded toward the Resonator.

[Taelian Edevane]

As the other man landed near him, Taelian offered him a cursory glance and a brief wave, but otherwise appeared preoccupied. By then, he had stood from his meditations and was working on the Resonator-device again, configuring the ethereal connection and hoping to determine where - exactly - they would emerge in Bel. He felt fortunate that Daravin was on the 'line' to travel to Bel, elsewise they would have needed to go to an entirely different nation to access it. The presence of Mithira, hundreds of miles away, was enough to stake a claim on the entirety of the Empire of Rust, connecting it to the Infernal Plane as if a part of its being, with a demented underbelly beneath.

It almost seemed fitting. If there was any waking counter-part to Bel, it had to be Daravin; an Endless War of a similar sort raged, with warmongers - the Entente - leading it in their own right. He almost wondered, for a moment, if the plane most connected to a region somehow bled its... properties to the surface; that gnawing hatred, rage and ambition that stirred within. It was doubtful, but it was something to theorize.

Taelian smiled, briefly, as the other man complimented his attire. "Thank you," he whispered in response. He looked the man up-and-down again, before averting his gaze back to the Resonators, words escaping his breath. "You always seem to look ready." They had only had two encounters thus far, but Taryn seemed born for something like this. He had all the confidence required, the bearing and physique to match. Taelian was a Knight, and had been trained and raised to be one, but he wasn't certain that he had acquired the ability to exude strength that Taryn seemed to innately have.

As the other man asked what he was working on, Taelian nodded, turning away from the blue crystals to focus on the Velsign for a moment. "These are Shard Resonators, attached to a pole built to contain them. They... allow for long-distance travel through Resonance, and three of them tied together can refine a sonant wave enough to allow for the breaking of a planar boundary. You know how sound can be loud or piercing enough to shatter glass?" he asked, standing straighter. "Think of this like that phenomena -- I will soon produce a sound powerful enough to shatter the integrity of Atharen's shape. It will correct itself shortly, but it will leave us enough time to abscond into the Infernal Plane."

He turned back around, and closed his eyes. Taelian imagined the frequency; the one he had practiced over and again. He imagined the force, the intensity, the vibrations produced by the sound. It was devastatingly powerful, though it was also beautiful to him. The sound of the world itself breaking apart, heeding one's call. It was like the booming voice of a God, channeled through his Mark of Control.

"I have spent the last few days preparing the Interplanar Resonance, and... I have seen Bel since then, only a brief glimpse. It's unlike anything I've ever encountered, Taryn. I need to ask you one more time, and after you choose I will open the portal: do you truly commit to this? There is no going back."

[Taryn]

Taryn opened himself up the quiet flow of the ether in the world around him. He could feel it swaying and moving like a river of unseen life. He tapped into that river, allowing his ether to manifest as he drew his sword. The ether coalesced into a gas that coated his sword and clung to its line. He flourished the blade, observing as the gas remained in place. He then settled his gaze upon Taelian.

“Lead the way.” He looked at the strange device. All of what Lord Venger was saying made sense in a way but Taryn was the type that he did not truly understand until he could see it for himself. Such was the way of magic for him. He was not the arcane scholar that his father was and he never would be. He could grasp the concepts only when he could see the fullness of them in practice, only then would he be able to get a handle on the mechanics of it. He rolled his shoulders and waited for the task to be finished. There was little more that he could offer except a bit of silence so that Taelian could concentrate.

He stilled his wings, adopting a ready stance in case anything nasty jumped out at them. One thing dealing with raiders in Northradica had taught him was that an ambush could come from just about anywhere. From everything that Taelian had said about Bel, the place was filled with creatures who lived for the idea of pummeling on travelers, ripping them apart or just tormenting them in general. He had to wonder, what would become of Lord Venger if Venadak did grant him an audience? Would he become a reflection of the plane that this fallen deity inhabited? He hoped not. The world was a hellscape enough as it was.

Time would tell.

[Taelian Edevane]

Lead the way.

With those words, he steeled himself. Focus, he repeated in his mind. Pointless as it may have seemed to relentlessly issue those... mental commands, Taelian found that with each utterance through his thoughts, his mind became sharper. He could almost visualize the frequency, and as he shut his eyes the pitch cut through his mind until it was clearly lodged in. He breathed in, listening to the ambient sounds surrounding him. The sonant blast he was about to create would crush them all. Birds would be flung from their nests, music kilometers away would be disrupted by the booming reverberations.

Taelian placed his palm forward, leaning it against a narrow glass surface in-between the connected Resonators, holding his hand against the material as he breathed in and out, steadily, and then slowly with more intensity.

Suddenly, Taelian's lips parted, and from his mouth came a terrifyingly sharp yell, one that boomed louder than any human voice seemingly could. He continued to yell, and as he did, the sound became louder; harrowing, sharp, rattling the minds of those who heard it. Before long, his voice almost appeared to take physical shape, a transparent mass of force gathering from the noise as the frequency tuned perfectly with the shape of the planar boundary. The noise oscillated, shifting as it shrieked, until finally - with a great wave of energy - it collided against the edge of the plane, breaking open a gaping rift within their world. He closed his lips, the sound subsiding as an exceedingly warm, humid gust of wind escaped the mouth of Bel that he had created. Right before them, at the very precipice of the cliff, stood a perfect doorway to Bel -- looking inside of it felt no different than peering within any other door, the contents inside perfectly visible, the gap in their worlds completely non-distinct. It was no further away from them than another room.

"We must go now, before the boundary is corrected," he said, wiping his lip with his elbow before breathing out somewhat raggedly. The scream had taken a toll on his throat, and he wished he had time to recollect himself. He did not. Taelian beckoned the other man to follow, gripping the instrument that had honed his Resonators and carrying it inside with him as he ran through the doorway, emerging through the Infernal Plane.

He frowned, wearily, as he peered back and saw the slope that descended from the hill; the blue skies, the cool warmth. All that surrounded either of them now was a chilling bleakness; the soil was a reddish brown, no grass or trees in sight, with black mountains etched out at the edge of the horizon. The sky was wickedly grey, with a faintly viewable red beam piercing through the smoke-like crowds in the far distance. The Barrengate of Markhan -- it had to be.

Not long after both men entered, the portal weaved shut, collapsing with a quick, booming thud. The world before them was viewable now, though it was no different than all the rest. Brownish-red, and completely bare.

He clutched his chest. Performing the Interplanar Resonance twice within the last day had already taken a toll, though he wasn't overstepping yet. "I'll only need... a few hours to recover my ether," he said, voice still ragged as he bent forward slightly, clutching his upper legs. "Look to each direction -- you can see the beams of the Barrengates hundreds of miles out; they'll serve as our compass," Taelian muttered. "The only one that's visible now is Markhan, which is in Bel's east. That means we're somewhere in the east, too. Presumably, if we just go west..."

He stopped, shaking his head. It was hot. Not deathly so, but it was highly unpleasant. The air felt foul, too, as if polluted. Everything just felt -- noxious, pervasive.

"Taryn, we can't afford to go the wrong direction. The Corrupted Ones reside in Velyar, but often they roam the surface with their armies. Just... be vigilant. Please."

[Taryn]

Taryn felt it in his bones as Taelian gathered his power to him. He watched as the man of elven heritage stepped forward to administer to his instruments. Then with a sudden and forceful yell, Taryn winced. The thundering boom made him flinch away from the noise as it spiraled forth in a rippling wave that sundered the earth before it. Dirt and debris was cast upward as Taelian’s instruments collected the power only to channel it forth. With a deepening sense of awe, he watched as the boundary between this world and another was completely shattered. In front of them was a gaping maw, the jagged edges of which seemed alive with power that was unknown to him. Never in his life had Taryn seen such a display of might before and to be honest, he had not expected it from someone such as Taelian. Nobles where he came from were not necessarily soft but they did not wield power that was capable of ripping apart the fabric of reality with a mere shout.

Taelian was speaking and it took a moment before Taryn shook off the surprise from his muscles. He moved, coming up beside the nobleman, tucking his wings in close. Upon stepping across the threshold, Taryn immediately decided that he very much did not like Bel. It was a sane decision, a decision any reasonably minded mortal would make. But he liked it less so because of the stifling heat. He looked to Taelian, furrowing a brow as the man leaned forward to both catch his breath and situate himself in their new plane of existence. Taryn took a look at their surroundings. He noted the absence of anything remotely living in all directions. As he scanned their position, he extended a wing in order to provide Taelian with a bit of shade that he might be just a tad bit cooler.

“If you can provide the heading, I can scout ahead short distances.” He looked at the landscape. It was a lot of open space and open sky. These were not ideal conditions for aerial scouting but if he did it in short bursts, that could minimize the danger. Taryn took hold of his waterskin. He opened it and with a flex of his fingers, reached out to coerce the water inside to flow forth. He took out only a small amount, enough to coat his hand. He turned around to more fully assess Taelian. Reaching out, he gently urged the nobleman into a standing position. He then realigned the water upon his hand to convert its temperature to a more icy degree. Lightly he touched the coolness to Taelian’s brow. The water left his hand to wrap around Taelian’s neck and touch upon the heated spots at the back of the nobleman’s neck. It traveled downward along his spine, bringing with it coolness to help ease the burden of their environment.

“We don’t want you overheating.” With a blink of his eyes, Taryn realigned the water into a cold mist that ghosted over Taelian’s torso from inside of his shirt. Though the heat of the environment quickly saw it evaporate.

“We need to find a vantage point. Or at least somewhere less out in the open.” Taryn turned his attention back to the landscape. He stirred his ether into motion, tapping into the corrupted nature of his eyes and sharpened his sight. For just a handful of seconds he looked around until his vision landed upon what looked to be a ruin of some sort. He pointed at it.

“There. It is not much but we can orient ourselves there.” He lowered his wing and moved to go in the direction of the ruin, senses on high alert. There were fiends of all sorts that could be anywhere.

After all, they were quite literally in hell.

[Taelian Edevane]

As the other man's wing wrapped around him, shading him from the glaring heat that surrounded them, Taelian stilled for a moment and shut his eyes. His brows knitted, lips curling down into a frown. He had never been to this place -- seeing it for what it was, it was beyond anything he might have imagined it to be. The very air was wrong; hot, yet somehow hollow and bleak, like a chilling, Ash wind. He peered out in front of him, as well as he could with Taryn's wing draped around his form, examining what he could of Markhan in the distance. His eyes appeared to trace back-and-forth across the soil as if drawing a line, before he nodded once.

"This place reminds me of the Badlands," he commented. "Only... much, much worse."

Taryn had been working in the Badlands, it appeared, something they hadn't spoken of much when they met. Taelian had gone through it, once, foolishly wandering into its depths after he'd managed to escape Sil-Elaine through Carine. He almost died, and would have if not for Renfier... years ago. Seeing the wasteland before him reminded him of those ardors, how weak he was back then; how weak he felt, now.

He eyed the other man, observing with some trepidation as he pulled the liquid from a waterskin and altered it, funneling it in through his clothes until it pressed between his skin and their layer as a sort of coolant. Taelian eased for a moment, his brows raising. "Ah--" he groaned, slightly. It felt good; much better, in fact. He was an Ebon Knight, though, already better accustomed to heat than most. His concern rose for the other. "What about you? You probably overheat more easily than me."

Taryn was right, though; a vantage point. Somewhere they could scout down from, perhaps guide themselves in a particular direction. The further out the horizon went, the more it seemed to be obscured by the lingering, noxious elements of the environment, like a haze that thickened and condensed the farther it was in their peripheral. Glancing towards the ruin, his brows narrowed, clinging to the lids of his eyes as he pondered. A ruin meant a battle, likely in the past. The structure was devastated, but that likely meant few would use it for refuge, or take up residence there. It was perfect.

"Alright," he muttered. Taelian was the first to move, allowing Taryn to follow closely at his back, the wing still wrapped partly around him. As they walked, he spotted Dregs scattered in the skies above; some of them fought, one of them appearing to be cleaved through their neck as a red essence streamed out of them, seemingly evaporating into the sky. The assailant continued on, torpedoing forward with their wide, black wings before disappearing beyond the haze. He wondered if either he or Taryn were ready to fight something like that, whatever it exactly was.

"I... don't know which Corrupted One reigns in this region of Bel, right now," he said, as the two made their way to the mouth of the ruin. He pressed his hand against a stone pillar, sighing as he explored the broken shape of the structure. "If it's Y'shendra, we are in great danger. I've heard she aimlessly tries to convert any and all into Dunash. A Blacksworn will hunt us down. We-- we need to somehow figure it out. The appearance of the most common Orkhai around should tell us; green or brown means Jaxkael, red means Valteran... grey means Y'shendra..."

He tried to remember the last one -- Clan Variant. He couldn't recall what they looked like.

"Markhan guiding us should mean we can get to the chasm at the center, quickly. I don't think we should rely on your wings, though. The Dregs can seemingly tear us out of the sky."

[Salen]

Taryn

Lores

Points: 8 Points (2 to be used on Baptism)


Taelian

Lores

Points: 8 Points


Comments: Shame this was finished, great thread both of you. If you have any questions, let me know.