The First Age

The fucking idiots!  Nox thought to himself.  The so called Rods of Dominions were throwing weaves at the creature and it just poofed out of existence and they kept throwing things at it like it would solidify for them.  It didn't need to now that he drew upon the power of Ascendancy and it dwarfed Nox's own.  But that didn't stop Nox from drawing to the brink.  

Ryker tried to warn the remaining 6 of nine but they didn't listen. The man he'd met in the dungeon of whatever facility he'd been in started to make the Ijiraq solid.  He'd been there with the Ascendancy, Aria had told him the secret.  And he was teaching the nine, though they still threw wildly and only a few were following the instructions immediately.

Nox pulled a flow and sent a quick concussive force in the direction of the nine.  The directional thunderclap would disorient them long enough to make them listen to their betters, of which he did not count himself he lead nothing, he was a follower - Nox knew that much about himself at the very least.

A second flow quickly followed. He used his own trick in reverse, instead of warming the air he chilled it.  Chilled it to the memory of the tundra and below around Ascendancy.  Frost and ice formed on the creature and the floor around them. The creature slowed more.  As Nox advanced he removed the stupid jacket that would impede his movements and shoved it into the hands of a person standing nearby in utter shock.  And shoved his sleeves up his arms, half the red and black dragon eating its own tail was stark against the fresh white of the tuxedo attire.

The nine, or what remained of the nine added their weaves to the dark man's and the thing stood still as the ice they were making.  The room was hot except for the area around Ascendancy.  Gold melting and making it even hotter.

A pretty slip of the girl tried to help the Ascendancy but her efforts were not worth while.  Nox growled loudly, "Move."  And when she didn't move fast enough Nox split his flow twice, it strained and burned and it was the hardest struggle he'd faced yet with so much power building.  The ice around the Ascendancy started to warm from lack of concentration but Nox used a simple weave of air to lever the girl away from the Ascendancy as he formed a iron hard, rock bat with the other flow and took a step like he was going to smash a baseball into the stands.

There was a moment of doubt, Nox could kill Ascendancy in that moment.  The Atharim would thank him joyously for killing Apollyon.  The second thought followed, right before shooting him in the head for being a god. It was this thought that propelled his actions.  The momentum of the bat carried through the Ijiraq and it took every muscle in Nox's body to stop the swing before smashing into the Ascendancy.  There was only one thought running through his mind. Fucking Stop in time.

The bat stopped a hair breath from Ascendancy and the Ijiraq crumbled at Nox's feet as he strained from the moment frozen in action.

Cruz stopped when he heard more screams. He knew he should go. It was in his best interest to listen to Nox. He was being paid to protect him. But he'd missed the last monster. And he could help. Cruz turned back around and saw that thing with the Ascendancy on his knees begging. It was so unlike the strong man he'd watched his whole life rule their world. And now he was reduced to almost tears.

Half the crowd stayed to watch as fireballs and other weave flew to save the Ascendancy but it wasn't working. The other half the crowd fled towards the door. Cruz seized control of his own power for the first time that night and throw a shield of air around him, he became an immovable object in their path and they had no choice but to go around him. He smiled at his own use of the power.

Cruz let the fleeing people pass him and he watched as the Consul of Magic or whatever the hell it was called try to make the rods of nine dominions obey but they didn't follow the program fast enough and Nox sent a thunder clap at them. Cruz turned his attention quickly back to Nox. The weaves around the creature were emanating from the Consul and then Nox added his own and split them. Cruz watched the whole thing unfold in a matter of moments but it felt like a lifetime, the world was standing still as Nox's weave collided with the creature and it shattered into a billion little bits.

Jaxen prided himself on a strong sense of self-preservation. Thus it was against all of his instincts to run toward what was certainly the beginning of the end of the world. So much power. It was like the sun emptied itself, pouring molten power upon the Kremlin out of some cosmic cup.

The bonds loosened, then disappeared together. Jaxen slapped Oriena an annoyed look that she took so long to snap her fingers. The moment he sat up, the pain on his shoulder subsided, but moving his arm made him wince. 

Glass crunched as he strode quickly to a mirror - an unbroken one at least - as he arranged himself. The blood on his shirt smeared by Oriena's palms was overlooked for now. He twisted to examine his back, discarding the black coat as he did.

It was a hell of a lot smaller than the pain told him to expect, the shard jutting from the white of his back. Red speckled in other places. But he grit his teeth as he watched arms of the power swipe them away like invisible palms. Pain lessened with each tinkle of glass dropping to the floor.

A glare fixed Oriena when he turned to her. Warmth trickled down his back from the larger wound, pinking up the shirt as it did.

The same chaos that pricked smiles upon her vicious lips downturned his. She had no idea what was out there. Frankly, Jaxen didn't either, but they were both ants at the bottom of a mountain in comparison. 

He had to see it.

He grabbed her on the arm as he passed by like he might tug her along by the vice-like grip of his fingers alone. His arm ached, the cut burning on his skin. She was unlikely to be forgiven, no matter how badly she begged.

Nobody bat the bloodied pair an eyelash. Others ran. Some cried of ghosts. Others cried of a demon. Kremlin security services rushed, swarming. 

The ballrooms doors were flung open. Jaxen skid to stop when he beheld it. "Oh, shit." He said, jaw dropped. Though it was unclear whether he commented on the apparition or the sheer volume of power flowing through the air. 
Might as well add to the chaos.  He grinned.

He sprinted forward, power swirling him like a storm, adding his own flow of ice to that of the others. 

The crash of its demise gleefully lit his face.

Ryker was powerless to contribute to the defense. Instead, the boy he didn't recognize wrenched command from the Dominions, something Ryker imagined their Commander may not take well to. The kid was impressively powerful, but Ryker watched the mist, mesmerized by the power required to make it vulnerable.

The club formed in the kid's hands, his body tensed, the club swung. A scream touched their eyes when it struck true. The smash rippled a million shards that poured across the floor. Ascendancy was freed, the club an inch from his head.

Ryker exhaled. The flows diminished. A spell of speechlessness trapped them all, heavy breathing filled the void.

Then he heard one of the Dominions cry out, "Look at his arm!" Recognition crossed each face. 

They swarmed on Nox, then. 

"Get back!" someone ordered. 


"Back away from him," another followed.

"Release the power," Karim shouted. 

The Dominions unified.

But it was the woman that took up a place between Nox and them.

---

A shove, and Evelyn found herself on the floor. She cried out in surprise, then in pain when the weight of her palms slammed into marble. 

When she rolled to her side, she watched with horror for what was happening. The men were shouting, fighting it, but she could not see any sign of the offense.

All she saw was that it was being frozen. Hot winds brushed her face like the energy was siphoned out.

From the floor, propped on an elbow, she focused on the power of Jesus, willing him to turn the water to wine, to turn the mist to ice. Hope flowed through her, but the flows were blocked. Fear sank in.  The light faded. She was too weak to channel Jesus' power. 

Then, the shards poured out in a million pieces, drifting up against her like snow. Evelyn gasped, and pushed herself to her feet. Her wrist ached, but she ignored it. Nikolai was freed. The Dominions turned on the one that saved him.

God give me strength, she prayed, heart pounding.

She stepped between them, a shield forming between them and her.

"He saved him!" She demanded they listen. "Do not touch him."

But Nox was quickly forgotten. She rounded him and sank alongside Nikolai, throwing her arm around his curled back.
"Nikolai, beloved, please tell me you are okay." She tried to peer into the haunted hollows of his face.

He tugged her along and she rolled her eyes, following the current only because they were headed in the same direction. He pouted over his injuries but appeared to have forgotten it was him who'd laid down on the fucking glass like a lamb for slaughter. If he couldn't handle the price of Oriena's attentions, he really ought to quit toying with the flame. 

She wrenched her arm free, but he'd already moved on. Chaos met their departure; screams and jostling bodies, and a cavalcade of power. The threads she was blind to, but the consequences on the other hand. The desperation stank as various yells fought to rally control.

To protect Ascendancy.

Power wreathed her. She pushed people aside, with blood smeared hands or swats of the power, though the audience thinned by the time her measured pace reached its crux. Dominions swarmed on Nox. And Evelyn Avalon curled over Nikolai Brandon's broken body.

A smile curled her lips, though it was cold. "Well look at that. Not a god after all."

Tension corded the air tight. Oriena's comment struck more than one ear shocked. They all turned to judge her blasphemous tongue.

Jaxen laughed, goosebumps pimpling his neck. 

Cold mixed with heat. Both struck like the uncomfortable discord of Jaxen's insane laugh. The walls radiated it like dying coals. The crystals poured upon the floor wafted like the tundra of frozen Siberia. The churning of the Ancient Power flowed like lava through his veins. Sweat struck his forehead cold. The blood on his back trickled warm.

Heat. Chill. 

He looked from face to face, each more ghastly abhorred by his behavior than the next. Until he doubled over with hilarity. 

His back burned as though Oriena's claws literally dug into the skin. But oddly, the cold pebbled up his arms, across the back of his neck, and struck the beads of sweat on his brow. Jaxen shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. 

Then light was sucked from the room like an open window allowed it to escape. 

When the hot winds blew, Jaxen stopped laughing. Something very bad was here. 

---

Malik was rage embodied, Marcus' terror and loathing serving to stoke the flames of hatred and need for control to a roaring furnace. The Force flowed through Malik in great torrents and despite the danger around them he felt like roaring madly. He had strained and strained, willing himself to channel more of it than he ever had before. It was like skiing down a mountain of bubbling lava, slope nearly vertical, vast tree-like spires of iceberg sized stalagmites jutting up at every turn, icy hot wind flowing around him, whipping his face and ears as he weaved this way and that. It was glorious.

So alive. So fucking alive!! Never had he felt this way. The amount of the force nearly overwhelmed him but he stamped it down, crushed it. 

The Dominion's were slow to follow his lead. Only Sanjay acted immediately, but once he did so, they started to follow suit. The thing was incredibly strong. Malik was among the strongest he'd met and still it took all of them channeling at it.

Another man- one he recognized from the Facility, Nox- was there, surprisingly. Another man too, face scarred up, yelling out at the Dominions. Nox, though wove a blast to try to stop them. Malik nearly turned his weave on him. They are mine to lead if Vellas won't do it! One thing at a time, though. Ascendancy first. Nox added to the freezing.

Finally, it was working. Marcus advanced readying a weave of air to slice its head off when Nox swung a bat made of earth, the thing shattering into a million shards of ice. The bat was this close to Ascendancy's head and Malik wove air to knock Nox across the room. Somehow the man stopped himself and Malik's weave dissipated before it struck. Stupid. So fucking stupid! There were better ways to kill it without risking Ascendancy's head.

He let his weaves go but held on to the force. The screams of those who had remained was peripheral, the roar of the Force in his ears. The Dominions circled Nox, ordering him to drop his power. Malik saw the tattoo, knew he was Atharim. Nox had been marked by him as a future tool. This could work out well for him, especially if the man was in custody. But of course Avalon, who had been curled around Ascendancy, rose up, tried to get them to stop.

Malik paused, thinking. He was aware that there was some connection Nox had with the Ascendancy. What it was, he wasn't completely sure of, though. So....should he support Avalon or the Dominions? Which would draw him in closer to the Ascendancy?

The memory of the way the man looked at Avalon decided him. Malik strode forward into the circle the Dominions formed and stood next to Avalon and over the Ascendancy. "She is correct! He helped save the Ascendancy!" He looked at Avalon with a supportive smile and a nod.

He was about to say more when a chill filled the air and the lights began to flicker before going out. The walls had borne the brunt of the heat and there probably was electrical damage as a result.

Still, the feeling of uneasiness remained.

((As I am unofficially DM'ing this baddie mcbad, effects described here affect all of our PCs, but nothing is permanent. Fight back as you will. I can continue to DM.))

---

The lights flickered, then snuffed away. Nox and the others were swallowed by darkness. Only the points of power remained. Jaxen could point to them in the dark, as though the men of the world were gone and all remained were the bastions of power. Like beacons, they blazed. Jaxen held his breath.

Then something cold rushed his face. A quiet whoosh was the only warning. Another swirl of mist, emitting its own light, like a lamp draped with cloth, glowed from within. Then another swarmed. Jaxen spun, dodging it as it swept low. He gasped, hackles high. A third sweeping figure descended. They swarmed like bees from a kicked hive. Then the screeching pierced his ears. Angry screams that chilled his heart.

He threw his hands over his ears, readying flows of defense. The instincts similar to the Dominions' flashed first. To throw everything at them and hold nothing back. But they were too fast. He all too greatly understood their panic now.

Marcus was attacked first, a defiant scream of a tormented soul pierced the night. The Consul was swarmed, mist swallowing him up.

The second lunged at Nox. The murderer of their brother would bear the brunt of revenge.

A third swarmed one of the Dominions, the powerful Asian one. 

As how the power of Ascendancy was siphoned, these ijiraq chose their victims strategically, selecting the most powerful among them. And Nox, because apparently that little shit needed to die.

But then the temperature changed.

An odd thing to notice amid the chaos. But the warm winds burned his cheeks. Dried the water from his eyes. Parched his throat. He struggled to breathe in the heat.

Something innately terrifying gripped his heart. But he turned toward it anyway, teeth bared, a cornered dog prepared to fight. He let the power fill him to quivering levels. Nothing would take him the way they took the others. Never again. A living imprisonment would never be his fate. He'd die first.

More preferably, he'd kill whatever thought to chain him.

Mist swirled as it descended through the ceiling. White as the others, but a rainbow of colors blazed from within, drenching the room with crystalline glow. The mist took shape in midair, and Jaxen could do nothing but stare at it. At her.

She had the flowing robes of a woman swirling and fluttering where there should have been feet. White strands of hair lifted on invisible winds swirling around her head. The ghostly white of her flesh was opaque as the colors inside came to stillness.

She didn't so much as look at Jaxen.

The hollow of eye sockets flicked between Evelyn and Oriena.

Decision arrived, she struck, faster than lightning.

And settled around Oriena. Around her. Surrounding her. Inside her.

And moments later, Jaxen was thrown from his feet. The other men all standing were as well. Oriena's lips twisted, but it wasn't her voice that emerged.

She screeched demands even as invisible flows of Oriena's ancient power pushed them all away. Jaxen flew through the air. His back slammed a wall. The pain of previous injuries ripped fresh across his shoulders. Air pushed from his lungs, he gasped as something clutched his throat and shoved upward. Jaxen kicked, feet dangling midair, braced between the invisible and the heat of the wall. Hands curled around his throat, but grappling at bonds unseen was a useless, panicked strategy. The others were in no better shape. Nox, Marcus, the Dominion, and now Oriena, were trapped.  The dominions assaulted. Ascendancy remained as he was. Evelyn cried out.


Jaxen kicked, toes stretching toward the floor. Dizziness gripped his temples. He blinked, mind racing to comprehend. What key? Horde? He was trapped. Held down. Suffocating.

Held down..

Like Oriena's bonds. 

The ancient power sliced at the mass crushing his throat until he dropped in a heap. Coughs wrenched his chest. But she noticed. Whips of fire flung from Oriena. Then thunderous beatings followed. Heat snapped on his leg, then another on his arm. The room lurched, though, and he stumbled aside, attempting to escape. Power flooded, the dams bursting. 

His mind raced. The others endured as much of the onslaught as they defended. But nothing was going to stop. Nox, Marcus and the other man would be dead before she relented, more importantly, once extinguished, their ijiraq would swarm to the next man like a plague of locusts until he was likewise consumed. Jaxen could be next. 

Unless Oriena could be stopped.

He channeled ice at the mist trapping Ori. It worked before. Did she know what was happening to her? Was she paralyzed inside? She is probably loving this, Jaxen thought. Well, he didn't want to kill her. But better her than him.

"Take this, bitch!" He yelled.

She thwarted his ice flows like a flick of the hand at a gnat. Her laugh was terrible. Her response incomprehensible.


The name stirred, but there wasn't time to think on it. He grit his teeth and split the difference, pushing one flow at her and the other at the nearest ijiraq. It was like balancing on a steel beam slung high overhead, blindfolded and drunk no less, but he hung on by grips of his fingers.

There was pain, and then there was pain.

As a child, when her mother's illness blazed particularly bad -- when Dehzda saw a demon for a daughter and the voices urged her to bad things, -- Ori escaped to the derelict buildings around her shitty neighbourhood and hid. Time crept slow sandwiched in the cold concrete, and Russian winters were not kind, even to little girls. She lit matches and watched the flames burn down until they nipped her numb fingers. It became a game. How close she could hover her hand to the searing heat before the pain made her gasp and flinch away. Until eventually it was just a game of burning herself, over and over until she could go home.

Heat tickling Oriena's skin, like the rasp of sandpaper, was the first indication of something awry. Jaxen's laughter hollowed out in her ears, her attention already pulled away, eyes narrowed. Then darkness plunged, deeper than was possible naturally, and against the blackness fell ethereal, wraith-like figures. She had seen inhuman things before, in the low places of Zamoskvoreche, but nothing like this.

The mist settled like someone filled her veins with novocaine, sinking her down, forcing numb acceptance as she divorced from her body into the promise of peaceful oblivion. Her vision blurred abruptly. It felt like falling back into nothing, and being welcomed by the very essence of her gift. The power glowed to capacity, swelling her up until it seemed it would burst from her skin in burning euphoria, siphoning to the will of another. 

But Oriena could feel the theft, and it sparked fury.

She was sluggish from the poison that stole her limbs and her bloody lips to speak another's words, but Ori had always been careless with her body. When it pulled at her power though, she reared from stupor to wrench back hard; because she would die before she allowed it; the only thing here she truly cared about. It would not be taken.

And that was when it began to burn. 

Not pain, but pain. Like molten cracks spidered the surface of her bones, split, and consumed her until coherent thoughts were a luxury she could not afford. She had no mouth to scream or fists to clench, and only the dimmest awareness of what went on outside her prison.

She fought, but it would only kill her faster.

Cruz let go of his wall of air weave as the commotion died down. As abruptly as it had ended before it started all over again. The world changed, the darkness was the only Cruz could see, but he felt the other men around the room, beacons. And then there was screaming and even then there were lights like at Methos' concert and Nox had mimicked in the basement as a part of his training since he saw them.

Cruz stared openly and even before he could fully comprehend was was going on he was blasted backwards. A shiver ran up his spin from the use of the female source, that could be the only explanation. Though Cruz had not actually felt it before, except only briefly when Emily channeled. Nox had explained it to him aftewards. now it felt like he was going to drown in the chill, but he was too busy staring at the mound that was now Nox.

Nox... A small smirk spread across his lips. He could save him for once. But that thing might attack him? He wasn't a fighter. But if Nox were free, or the other guy. There were so many other channelers here, they could help him. Cruz was no hero but Nox was his friend, despite his supposed job description - which he all in all sucked at. Though if Cruz got hurt this time it was his own fault. Nox told him to leave. He hadn't.

The Ascendancy, could smite this now that he was free. Where was he? Did he even survive.

Cruz stood up slowly shaking the feeling of groginess from him from the expelling force. He mimiced the weaves he'd see Nox do, he could have followed the other man's but this one Cruz knew - it was only reverse. Nox didn't have many easy tricks, but warming the air was something he did often, cooling it too when it was too hot outside he claimed. Though here in Moscow he'd never used it for more than demonstration.

Cruz was hardly strong, and the weave was complex. Well more complex than weaving a fireball, or a wall of air. The weave slipped several times before Cruz was pulling the heat from the thing that was capturing Nox... That was all he could do. Nothing more. He couldn't even think beyond holding the weave. It took all of his concentration. And Cruz prayed he would be ignored long enough for someone else to free Nox.