Basalt Isle Raid

Introduction

A record of the messaging and mechanics associated with the amazingly executed Basalt Isle raid that took place on day 236 in the month of Arhat the Fire Lion, year 439 after the victory of Lanival (2 Oct, 2021).

A summary leading up this event can be found at The Assault on Basalt Isle thanks to Dantia.

Demonic Altars

As part of the buildup the week prior to the raid, Sivroch placed demonic altars in front of cities that could be empowered or destroyed.

a battle altar made of rippling stone

a battle altar made of a strangely glassy material

a battle altar made of a mound of flesh and sinew

a battle altar made of shaped bone

The Void

This was in the main saferoom for the Defenders to interact with.

a yawning void torn in the fabric of reality

>exam void
A whirlpool of steaming ichor, the yawning void pulses as it spins, rhythmically growing and shrinking by several feet. You believe you could STUDY it to learn more.

>study void
You understand some of the shape of this tear in reality, and see how it may be manipulated. You believe you could TOUCH the void to send a piece of yourself into it, INHALE to bring Them into yourself, or WAVE to direct an extension in support of the defenders.

>touch void
You reach forward, feeling the gap and sensing Them laying beyond, ready and waiting. As you extend your awareness into the void, They eagerly reach and grab, pulling your awareness to Them.

Everything changes.

There is madness here, unbound chaos and crackling mutability, possibility, and power. They show you eternity, borrowing your mind to fuel Their engines and pour more of themselves through the void. The connection severs, and you struggle a moment to suffer through a pounding headache as you gather yourself.

(also gave head wounds)

>inhale void
Leaning forward you take a deep breath, inhaling the steaming space of the void deep into your lungs. It tastes of sweet apples and burnt meat, and suddenly you feel something clawing its way down your throat.

Everything changes.

Your vision spirals wildly and pulls to a distant horizon point. Far away, you feel Them, racing towards you, empowered for the stability and structured flesh of your lungs. They grow closer, when you find yourself exhaling sharply and coughing as you draw fresh air, and the connection severs.

(also gave chest wounds)

>wave void
Waving your hand high in the air, the void ripples in response, a long pseudopod extending outward. Guiding the tendril, you direct it upward and towards the field of battle. The wavering tendril grows translucent and stretches needle thin as it whips towards battlefield. Though you quickly lose sight of it, after a moment, you sense that it has latched onto something, and watch as material begins to be pumped along the tendril, across the distance.

Undead Creation

This was in another room that the Defenders had access to.

a pile of dismembered parts

>exam parts
A collection of dismembered limbs, torsos and heads, the origins of which seem to be primarily recently drowned sailors. Various marine parasites are slowly consuming the corpseflesh -- scuttling crabs, burrowing sandfleas, and writhing worms move on and around the pile. A pile of salt nearby suggests some effort was taken to preserve the parts, next to which rests a chirugeon's toolkit.

>study parts
Looking over the pile of parts, you believe you could CLEAN it to get rid of some scavengers and make the parts more accessible, PUSH it to stitch some collected parts together, or EXHALE life into the pile to complete the animation process.

>clean parts
Not sure where to begin, you poke through the assorted parts searching for inspiration. A leg with shark teeth buried in the calf looks to be in fairly good shape. Some kind of segmented worm has taken up residence in the eye socket of its half-decayed head, though the material looks usable. You push some scavengers aside, and do your part by gathering a handful of salt and sprinkling it over the pile. You organize the pile a bit and when you finish, the parts look more accessibly usable for assembly.

>push parts
Grabbing a needle and thread from the chirugeons toolkit, you gather an assortment of parts, brushing aside a sandflea as you set to work assembling a multi-limbed monstrosity. Pausing every so often to check your handiwork, you finalize even stitchwork and kneeling before the monstrosity, carefully carve a ritual design across a handspan of its body. You stand up satisfied that you have prepared it to arise as one of the undead, and lay the assembled body aside for completion.

>exhale parts
You sense a swell of arcane energy available nearby, and feel a slight pressure behind the eyes as you redirect it along ritual lines cut into one of the arrayed bodies, and you connect each essential node in turn. Abruptly the power surges forth, a dam bursting as wild torrents stream into the body! You siphon off a tiny fraction of the energy and direct it into reconstructing damaged tissue, the body's flesh knitting together before your eyes. The creature's recumbent form jerks once and then, as if awakening from slumber, its eyes snap open. Flexing with newfound strength, the zombie levers itself upright and shambles off to join the fight!

Demonic Tests

Arensirk's Game
Nothing makes sense, and there is no truth. The ground is up, the air is water, your name is not XXXX and you are not on Basalt Isle. In fact, the only thing you are sure of is that you find yourself...

You feel yourself being pulled away...

[Maze of Deceit, Arensirk's Game]
You stand in the midst of a large lecture hall, surrounded by faceless figures passionately debating something highly technical. One figure holds a small whirring device and waves it angrily in the face of another, who points to the ground and shouts back in anger. A group points out a nearby window and argues over the color of the orange hued sky. As the debate continues, it becomes clear that all positions are represented, and all are held with equal conviction.
You also see a simple lectern before a group of figures.
Obvious exits: obscured by a thick fog

>look lectern
Plainly constructed, the lectern holds notes for a series of lectures. A small gathering of figures cluster around the lectern. You believe you could STUDY the lectern to learn more.

>study lectern
The lectern is unadorned, a simple platform providing storage for a stack of papers and lecture notes. You believe you could PUSH the lectern to pick up one of the lectures and deliver it, POINT to the lectern to accuse one of the figures of dishonesty, or LEAN on the lectern to try a different tact and speak the truth.

>push lectern
Looking over the lectern, you see an account of a kingdom's financials. Reports on the flow of grain and ore, taxes raised and expenses paid are all neatly tallied, with summary statements provided in following pages.

One of the figures standing before the lectern loudly clears her throat expectantly, and you hastily begin calling for an audit, reminding the assembled figures of the meaningless nature of money and the illogical choice of making decisions without more information into the kingdoms financials. The figures all begin to argue, and you smile to yourself.

>point lectern
(need this messaging)

>lean lectern
Looking around, you realize that this is all an illusion, and speak to the need to band together and recognize the veneer of lies. The assembled figures begin to laugh and mock, the attempt to draw your ire futile and petty. You continue calling attention to the obviousness of the wholecloth fabrications and absurd claims being raised, when suddenly, the scene freezes, stuttering momentarily, and everything begins to fade.

Eacerikh's Replacement
You suddenly smell a wild bouquet of fragrant flowers, pollen wafting across on the breeze. You spread your arms wide, inhaling deeply of the rich aroma, and suddenly find yourself...

You feel yourself being pulled away...

[Maze of Cycles, Eacerikh's Replacement]
You stand in the midst of a field of grass, wildflowers blooming and dying in a rapid loop of birth and decay. The ground cracks and groans with the endless churn, seedlings erupting from the loam, unfurling leaf and brilliant petal, retreating to seed pod which hardens and drops, and the flower rapidly decays moments the process repeats. Skeletons are spread throughout the field, the flowers growing around and through gaps in ribs and empty eyes. A stiff breeze flows around the area, bringing scents you have never experienced but find extremely familiar.
You also see a wildflower bearing both brilliant petals and hardening seeds.
Obvious exits: obscured by a thick fog

>look wildflower
Growing vivaciously in this strange place, the wildflower looks like it expects you to do something. You believe you could STUDY the wildflower to learn more.

>study wildflower
The wildflower sways gently in the breeze, its petals vibrantly colored and its clustered seedpods maturing before your eyes. You believe you could PUSH the wildflower to assist in its germination, PULL the flower to grab some seed pods and spread them around, or LEAN towards the flower crush it and prevent it from spreading.

>push wildflower
(need this messaging)

>pull wildflower
(need this messaging)

>lean wildflower
You lean forward and crush the wildflower, grinding the blossoms and seed pods into a sticky goo. The wildflower withers and dies, unable to continue its unnatural propagation. The air smells sterile and clean, and suddenly, you find yourself...

Bynaikae's Feast
Suddenly, thick burls of fat, muscle, and sinew explode from the ground and wrap around your body, enclosing you in a tight cocoon! Surrounded by darkness, you hear whispering, promises of inclusion and secrets long forgotten, and claw and spine and tooth and nail rasp along your skin, tendrils worming into your mouth and nose. You feel a thundering heartbeat, and find yourself...

You feel yourself being pulled away...

[Maze of Flesh, Bynaikae's Feast]
You stand in the midst of a small cavern, every surface lined with still very much alive flesh -- stretched eyeballs blinking in confusion, a disfigured mouth gasping for breath between spiraling teeth, ears sprouting fingers that clench and unclench. It becomes impossible to keep track of the arrayed horrors. Whispers echo all around the cavern, recollections of experiences utterly foreign but disturbingly familiar. You begin to lose your place, to forget being alone in your skin, and have a strange desire to hug the walls, to lean into the comfort of the many, to remember with Them. You also see a mound of flesh. Obvious exits: obscured by a thick fog

>study flesh
The vile mound of flesh quivers as it senses you studying it, and the walls pulsate in response. You believe you could PUNCH the flesh to fight its pull, HUG it to embrace all that it offers, or BLANCH in disgust. Roundtime: 10 sec.

>blanch flesh
You turn and retch, disgusted at this space! You feel Them laughing, welcoming, beckoning you, promising that there is no pain or suffering, all you need to do is embrace Them, become One with Them. They are near and They are you and you could be of Them and there will be untold wonder as They share in all things and welcome all. You feel ill, as if the illusion has strengthened. Roundtime: 20 sec.

>punch flesh
You swing at the mound of flesh and feel your fist slam into the meaty protrusion, eliciting a loud *thud* as the mound shakes and seems to lean away from you. As you watch the flesh rearrange you resist the urge to vomit, though you are certain you have damaged the vile creation. Roundtime: 10 sec.

>punch flesh
You swing at the mound of flesh and feel your fist slam into the meaty protrusion, tearing into the surface of the mound! As you force yourself into the wound, you see the broken edges of the illusion of this space, and you find yourself squirming through a tunnel of viscera and ichor! You hear Them whispering, promising a return to when you were complete, safe, whole, threatening that you cannot leave, cannot escape, will always belong to Them, when suddenly you find yourself...

Pelsacahd's Nightmare
The air around you begins to ripple, and you find yourself surrounded by countless reflections of your smiling face. The reflections shatter, tumbling as they fall, and you find yourself...

You feel yourself being pulled away...

[Maze of Despair, Pelsacahd's Nightmare]
You stand in the midst of a vast desert, silver sands stretching in all directions and the faint glimmers of distant stars the only source of light. An endless horde of distorted reflections of what you could and may never be surrounds you, each bearing jaundiced and bloodshot eyes. Serving as a distorted caricature of your appearance, some are taller and spindly, stretched to great lengths, while others are squat and stout. Each stares directly at you, an unnatural wide grin stretched into a hideous mask, smirking with secret knowledge or madness. You are utterly alone here, dwarfed by the hideous mirrored images. You also see a twisted reflection that vaguely resembles you. Obvious exits: obscured by a thick fog

>study reflection
You study the twisted reflection in front of you. It stares back at you, cracking a jagged grin of thousands of tiny needle-like teeth. It waves a taloned hand to you, beckoning you to TOUCH it and join the twisted sea of horrific fragments. The sea of reflections all watch you in rapt attention, forming a maze around you. You think that to escape the maze, you will need to FLEE the REFLECTION. Roundtime: 10 sec.

>flee reflection
You turn to run from the reflection, sprinting through the maze in the hopes of finding an exit. The reflections grasp at you as you pass, but you push forward through the maze, finally finding a gap in the twisted reflections! You push your way out, and feel as if some sort of fog has lifted from your mind.

Jeihrem messaging

The ground shakes, and a foul wind begins to blow across the land, smelling of rot and salt.

The ground and sea oozes with blood, sinew, and flesh, ropey burls of fat and meat bubbling up from the surface and evaporating into a choking maisma. Swirling around, the bloody mist arcs high into the air and gathers into a vile cloud above before extending tendrils down towards the manor.

The ground shakes again, and beyond the manor, a form begins to rise. Clad in black steel armor and trailing a greatcloak of billowing shadow, the form grows taller and taller.

A faint grinding can be felt as the ground shifts, and a field of bone slowly vibrates upward -- a jagged femur snapped in half, four ribs connected to a dozen vertebrae, a broken jaw with yellowed teeth, an intact skeletal hand clenched in a fist. The bones shiver, buzzing like a swarm of locusts, and are flung upward, spiralling towards the growing form beyond the manor.

As the tornado of blood and bone surge into Jeihrem, he continues to grow. A hundred feet. Two hundred. Jeihrem steps over his manor, a single step towards the beach. The ground shudders, sand sprays around his footfall. The black steel visor of his helm surveys the beach, and you feel his gaze like a physical force, a predatory being calmly assessing the best time to strike.

Jeihrem spreads his massive arms and absorbs the rest of the swirling gore. He takes another step forward, the ground shaking with his footfalls.

You hear the amplified voice of Zauldin shout across the valley, "Fire on Jeihrem! Man the weaponry, he is exposed, kill him now!"

Hefting a massive tyrium claymore inset with a skull for a crossguard, the gargantuan Jeihrem slams the blade into the ground. Hideous shadows tinged with sickening no-color spray outward from buried weapon.

From across the distance you hear Khoheke shout, "Paladins, to the Oshu'k'et! The time for Sanyu Aes is now!"

You can hear them, clamoring and emboldened, called to this weakened point in reality. The scream and howl, chattering and skittering and tooth and claw and maw and too many eyes begin to squirm through the fringe, along the edges.

Jeihrem looks down at the assembled forces, and dispassionately twists the blade, slashing sideways. A flare of void bursts forth from the blades wake, leaving a harsh afterglow in your vision. You struggle to make sense of the broken space left in the wake of the weapon, struggle to make sense of the forms clamoring at the edges, struggle to to shut out the conflicted screaming and otherworldly vantage visible through the orange haze beyond the gash in reality, struggle to view the no-color ripples billowing at the boundary.

A ceaseless horde pours forth from the rent, clawing and charging across the opening. They surge with an almost desperation, screaming against the new laws of this plane.

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and slam into Jeihrem's legs, exploding with deafening force! He does not appear to notice!

Jeihrem lifts a massive foot and takes a step forward, directly above! Under the shadow of his falling boot, you realize you better move quick to avoid getting crushed!

Jeihrem slams a massive boot into to the ground! You barely manage to jump out of the way in time, but rock and sand explodes outward! The impact of debris knocks you over!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and slam into Jeihrem's chest, exploding with deafening force! He is staggered!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, missing Jeihrem entirely and sailing past him!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, slamming into Jeihrem's chest with an explosion of molten rock! He is staggered!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and explode violently against a cliff edge!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, missing Jeihrem entirely and flying into the distance!

A rain of scattershot arcs across the sky from the Oshu'k'et, missing Jeihrem entirely!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, slamming into Jeihrem's faceplate with an explosion of molten rock! He is staggered!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and glance off Jeihrem's legs! He does not appear to notice!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and roll part way up the cliff edge towards the manor before exploding violently!

Hefting a massive tyrium claymore inset with a skull for a crossguard, the gargantuan Jeihrem slams the blade into the ground. Hideous shadows tinged with sickening no-color spray outward from buried weapon.

You can hear them, clamoring and emboldened, called to this weakened point in reality. The scream and howl, chattering and skittering and tooth and claw and maw and too many eyes begin to squirm through the fringe, along the edges.

A compressed ball of fire screams an arc from the Oshu'k'et, slamming into Jeihrem's right pauldron! Jeihrem is staggered, his armor glowing with heat!

Jeihrem looks down at the assembled forces, and dispassionately twists the blade, slashing sideways. A flare of void bursts forth from the blades wake, leaving a harsh afterglow in your vision. You struggle to make sense of the broken space left in the wake of the weapon, struggle to make sense of the forms clamoring at the edges, struggle to to shut out the conflicted screaming and otherworldly vantage visible through the orange haze beyond the gash in reality, struggle to view the no-color ripples billowing at the boundary.

A ceaseless horde pours forth from the rent, clawing and charging across the opening. They surge with an almost desperation, screaming against the new laws of this plane.

Jeihrem lifts a massive foot and takes a step forward, directly above! Under the shadow of his falling boot, you realize you better move quick to avoid getting crushed!

Jeihrem slams a massive boot into to the ground! You barely manage to jump out of the way in time, but rock and sand explodes outward! The impact of debris knocks you over!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, missing Jeihrem entirely and sailing past him!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, slamming into Jeihrem's chest with an explosion of molten rock! He is staggered!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and slam into Jeihrem's legs, exploding with deafening force! He does not appear to notice!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, ricochetting off Jeihrem's shoulder and screaming off into the distance! He does not appear to notice!

A compressed ball of fire screams an arc from the Oshu'k'et, missing Jeihrem entirely!

A glowing lava javelin arcs a bright line across the sky from the stone tower, missing Jeihrem entirely and flying into the distance!

A pair of panjandrums bounce across the field of battle and slam into Jeihrem's chest, exploding with deafening force! He is staggered!

A thundrous rumbling explosion echoes across the land, and the air takes on a silvery-golden hue. You stagger a moment as a heavy weight presses down on you, and though it is oppressive and indominable, there is something comforting and strangely correct about it. Streamers of wispy golden lines rain down gently, blossoming into ribbons of exact starbursts and spirals.

Reality battles interloper as the rules of the Plane of Abiding roar in fury as the many exceptions and violations on the isle are forcefully rectified. In the rain of golden light, you detect for a fleeting moment an illuminated banner, composed of precise lines and silvery wisps emanating from a silvery spiral. The banner seems to unfurl from horizon to horizon, perfect forms overlapping with perfect forms in an endlessly nested and shifting display. Everything changes, and through it all, you feel the force of Khoheke's will.

You spot several things simultaneously.

The enormous form of Jeihrem roars and falls to his knees, hands crashing into the sea as he struggles against the weight. The interlocking plates of his armor groan and screech as the metal bows and flexes.

Sivroch wails in agony, her form burning and melting, limbs breaking. Her spined tentacles burst into fine ash and disperse, blown on fierce winds, and the her armor fractures, revealing swaths of oozing flesh beneath. She falls to the ground, shrinking and screaming, clawing at the ground as her talons tear from her fingers and her bones break.

Srinoja shatters, cracks spidering across her form as crystalline panes fall upward, evaporating. She clutches her head and wails, reflections of reflections beating against her and winding across her form, a multitude of breaks in the image revealing a haggard Gnome.

The rend billows as if caught in a strong wind, and begins to close, the edges coming together with flashes of corruscating flashes of light. Several thick pseudopods surge through the rend and arcing high, slam into the ground nearby! They pulsate, sending thick globs of unknown material into the land! The golden light batters them down, but they remain in place for several long seconds before shattering into rapidly dispersing smoke.

The form of Jeihrem begins to shrink, flames billowing from the gaps in his armor. Rearing back on his knees, he stares at the offshore Oshu'k'et, and thrusts a hand into the air. A bilious purple mist begins to gather above his head, flickering with thick worms, squirming violently as they die in the golden light streaming from the sky. Beneath the barrier, Jeihrem stands, and takes a step towards the shoreline.

The light continues to rain down from the skies, and gaps in Jeihrem's barrier begin to form. As the light shines through these gaps, Jeihrem is pushed downward, visibly struggling against an extreme weight, his armor groaning as it deforms in places. He strides towards the Oshu'k'et offshore, a barrage of electricity, lava javalins, panjandrums and mangonel fire slowing his progress, and reaches a gauntleted hand as he nears the vessel.

Slamming down to one knee, Jeihrem continues to struggle against the weight above as it streams through his failing barrier. He pulls his hand back, and ribbons of shadow begin to gather in his cupped palm, hissing and dripping with malevolence. The shadow tightens into an orb, snapping with no-color flashes, and Jeihrem pivots his shoulders, ready to attack!

Several volleys from the Aloof Gannet, the Oshu'k'et, and the assembled weapons strike simultaneously, knocking Jeihrem back slightly, the now crackling orb in his hand vibrating with violence. Several large gaps in the barrier overhead begin to widen, knocking Jeihrem's arm to the ground, causing the orb to dissipate. Jeihrem is once again slammed to the ground!

Jeihrem reaches for the Oshu'k'et, but his gauntlet and vambraces being to melt, glowing red hot. Jeihrem roars, an otherworldy bellow, a challenge to all gathered, a call to arms to those beyond the rend. You hear them clamoring, pushing against the oppressive weight, and the rend begins to unfurl once again.

Jeihrem suddenly explodes into vaporous black ichor, a whirlwind of ooze, and streams towards the writhing form of Sivroch, enveloping her and looping upward towards the manor.

As the golden light continues to stream downward, the rend in reality closes buckles once more, and closes completely, the summoned nightmares scattering to ash. Above the manor, a thick maisma gathers, flaring against the righteous weight of the light.

Several large orbs of bone are launched into the sky, exploding into a cloud of jagged shrapnel that begins to rain down on the shoreline! As the bone shrapnel falls, impacts travel from the beach to the water, tiny puffs of sand and rock exploding upward, moving onto a line of ripples as the waves are churned by impacts. The Oshu'k'et is caught in the blast, the wood of the prow splintering and the sails shredded.

As the weapon aboard the Oshu'k'et shatters, the golden light begins to dim, the righteous weight to lessen. The manor stands, enveloped in a purple mist, the beaches littered with flesh, bones, and streaks of ichor.

An ornithopter suddenly takes to the skies, a Gnome pilot falling from the ascending vehicle as it races for the Aloof Gannet. You are able to make out what appears to be the remains of Srinoja at the controls. Moments after the ornithopter arrives at the airship, a hairline fracture in reality spiders outward like a broken mirror for a moment, and then suddenly vanishes. The airship turns for the open sea and flies away.

Smoke Escape

An escape mechanism that took individuals to the center of the event space, alive or dead.

>dance smoke
You begin to twitch with involuntary movement, spasmodically crawling towards the Harrowed Chasm, lurching towards the gap between the ridges of basalt, towards the mass of Jeihrem's forces, compelled in a choreic burst into something resembling an unholy dance!