Jedidiah The Great Living City [NoM/April Fools/Event]

Chaos began to unfurl from the situation around Zion. Jedidiah summoned up great magic in the sky, but the one known as "Father" and Sollas seemed unperturbed by this. The former spoke up and offered his own game of sorts. Competition for a Divine Stave. Zion did not know the significance of the things, but with a name like "Divine" it could be inferred that it was a tool of great power and responsibility. Zion would be lying if he claimed that it was not tempting, but faced with Father's words it was clear there would be a price to grasping that power. Besides, his heart was already holding Sollas firmly as a point of great importance. Especially when he dropped the words "greatness" which caused Zion's heart to tremble with longing for his own long held goals. The other two seemed to be dyed fully in the black of illah's curse, but the boy was not yet tainted so completely. If possible, Zion hoped to save this child from the company of his dark family.

Responding to the Demi-Djinn's words, Zion stepped forth once more feeling a knot in his throat. He moved to speak deception but then held his tongue. The young magician's mouth opened and then closed without making a sound. Being honest had gotten him this chance, so he decided to stick to that genuine trend. He pondered his answer carefully and tried to ignore the pressure felt from the magic brewing above them all. It then struck him like a bolt from the blue. Zion's brows raised and he looked up in hurried excitement, "Such a heavy responsibility, I'm not sure if I am worthy to accept such power. Rather than take away from this world which already has so much stolen from it, I would hope to bring joy and peace. But I am no pacifist. I recognize the value of destruction. So if I were to gain your power, I suppose the first thing I would use it for..." The magician locked eyes with Sollas even as he pointed his finger high up into the air at the magic Jedidiah was preparing.

"...is to erase that magic which threatens us. Though my deepest held desire can't be grasped, that doesn't mean I am without a goal. At the bidding of my own late father, I seek to become a "Great Person" some day. A hero that brings hope and prosperity to the world. Alas, I have no time to learn your magic and implore you to act on my behalf. Please, help me save the people here from calamity."

Zion then presented Sollas with a deep bow of respect before turning around and marching towards Phobos. This put him close to the target of Jedidiah's spell and potentially in the line of fire. Talk was cheap. Actions would prove his convictions as the magician knelt down before the wounded Saint Germain. "I'm sorry for deceiving you. But thank you for playing along with my act." Zion said softly to Phobos with a gentle smile. "Allow me to help you return a life saving grace as a show of gratitude." The magician held faith that Sollas behind him would not let his chosen hero die in vain and focused instead of placing his hand upon the wounded chest of Tophat as the magic circle on his Angel's Brace shone brightly. Holy magic would then pour over the wound in the form of golden light which would begin to mend the injury whilst the one who had caused it was pre-occupied with choosing a sinister and depraved vessel for the djinn. Zion knew that this could not quell the anger Phobos' felt, but hoped to dull its sharp edge and de-escalate the conflict from erupting further. "If you seek revenge, save it until we are gone from this place..."

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Magoi: 190/340

Magic Tool:

Sollas looked up all them before him, his family, and his new 'friends' as he felt something inside of him toiling and turning as if he was stuck in some great indecision. As the moment seemed to last into infinity his eyes fell upon Phobos and he thought about how he wanted him to find peace, then he looked upon Noir and how he saw great promise from someone who had continuously curried fate's favor but seemingly stuck around those whose fate was lost, and then finally he would stare upon the one he had chosen, Zion and the pleas fell upon his ears.

"Your wish, " He spoke as he suddenly spread out his hands in both directions and a massive pressure would begin to fill the room around them all. As he orchestrated his hands multiple flocks of black and white birds would come riding upon the flow as he commanded that which existed within it and that which existed beyond its bounds. He pulled all the energy together as another magic circle would appear and a series of black orbs would appear spinning around his brother's own magic as he spoke. "Is my command."

As if it was a threat of some sort he turned his head toward his so-called family as he would float behind the people who had entered the dungeon. He for the first time since they had all entered would see a look of resolve on his face. Sollas would look upon Jedidiah and then the father. He held both his hands open, without any quiver they seemed ready to close and bring obliteration upon those who forget that destruction brings upon creation.

"I think your humor has begun to sour brother." He said, his voice clear and confident as he seems to have picked a side in this moment as he would then look at Zion briefly, he pondered, is this what it was like to have a friend near his age. For a moment he enjoyed this thought before remembering the weight he carried. "They played your games and even amused us all, let them all go, we can't see how any of them grow if they're all dead."

He would then stop and wait a moment as he brought his hands closer together and the orbs would begin to spin faster as if they were ready to impact at full power, all eight of them primed to erase the false dungeon. "I don't wish for us to fight here, there is so much left to be done."

Jedidiah would fast, withholding his spell before it was his last. A fight with Sollas was not what he wanted, it was not one he could win. So he would step back, allowing his new king to claim him. They would likely see his extreme magic someday anyway. "We'll likely be foes next time we all meet, I trust father to push the players into their parts. Enjoy your show, strange Saint." Jedidiah would say as he entered the codpiece, bonding to it turning it into dark black metal with flaming hearts.

"O bother o bother" cooed The father. With words light, and free, free from deceit. "I'm glad you didn't listen, but head now for I shan't repeat." A face free from magic, he would say a name that only a few would know. "The contractor is me and I am him, but I have a mind and my own whim. A shattered bent balance blurred by a cacophony of chaotic copies. In times to come, you shall see what freedom does, how fate becomes blind, deaf and dumb. A world has twice fallen into the night, a world felled then freed, savior flayed while the braver gurgle on their spit and those with wit die in fright." Each flowing word froth forth from his face as the words in his verse, took form, the long black tendrils of a curse.

Zubidiah would feel her flow, the flow of those fallen, as black pollen seemed to spread from his new limbs. If Zubidiah wished to feel this power, she would feel it, the same with Noir for Ghost had cast the spell.

"This is the story you want to know, Saint Germains Show, the boy's key for salvation before the decimation of your nation. I hope, I pray for that day, for I do not align with my true self's sense. If your scales come in place I don't think it will change fate. You're running out of time, you're running out of time, but that's the point of a bet, to put everything on red and have the challenge set." For a second, before his words had ended, from each the staff would see a portion of the city take its shape. From their minds, a street, a scape that they could call "mine". The living city showed reflections of Zub, Ghost, and Noir's inner selves.

With that distraction, father took action casting a spell of his own. There was last one last thing to be shown. Flowing away with nothing to say he would let go. He drifted towards the sky as memory would show, a play in heaven.

It was a sight, one Zubidiah and Noir would certainly remember. Ghost and Hyperion as well would notice some sliver of the info that had been seen in Vine. A sky, black without any clouds, as hands tore up the earth, taking or building it meant to nothing as life struggled against it. Then, a visage which none had seen, 72 golden lights dimmed, then born again. They saw the shapes, of the first, of those who took the light in and became the djinn. A veil fell down upon them as once again it showed scattered gold gathered by shadows, fighting back against the illusion darker than night. They two fell, then, it showed a new world form. It showed a great protector weeping in his palace as history showed its' repeat. Yet, new things would shine, not a savior this time, but a twisted controller, and a rise of rapid new kings, those carrying bright weapons, then those shrouded in black. It was not a war of two, but of three, of a battle, they did not understand.

Then, as father faded into the Illusion he would say one last thing, as he left his staff to fight over. "First fell the stars in an attempt to change a world with a similar path, but abnormality rides the horizon, now five kings shall rise, those afraid this world will fail, dark heralds preach and finally the Yin-Yang Sky will tear across heaven."

"Good bye my sons."

The gate would fling open, with only the staves owner to be decided.

DM Notes: Father gone, Sollas stopped Jed from using his spell and has become Hyperions Djinn. Gate has opened again to leave, Noir, Zub and Ghost, only one can have the stave as I said, so its who leaves holding it. Right now you're all still holding it. But, Zub the tentacles had released curse magic around Zub so that when the illusion came her empathy would feel the pain of those lost to the black rukh, and the feelings of those in the illusion.

Hyperion was surprised when Jedidiah had reigned in his power, it had seemed almost as if there was a tinge of fear in challenging the demi-djinn. More importantly, the father was to make sure they would all battle it out in the end.

The conflict between himself and the other candidates was just starting and he would ensure these battles in the next dungeon he would take part of. Hyperion holding onto the infused codpiece, waiting for a more proper time to don the Metal Vessel.


There was surprise in his thoughts, but the contractors word would resonate in his mind. Zub and the pair of magicians had tapped into the power of the divine stave, and it seemed like a conflict that he did not want to be a part of.

As he turned to leave, he could see the prophecy suggeste din the walls of Vine, and a key take away was the emergence of a third faction. It had seemed all along that this was perhaps a battle between those who believed in the rukh, and those who had cursed fate altogether. It was now Hyperion's mission to investigate the logistics of this upcoming war.

He finally turned away, and headed for the gate to return.