Battle of Sorvendig's Stand

The Battle of Sorvendig's Stand took place on 37 Moliko (day 276) 394 AV north of Hibarnhvidar between Lyras the Devourer and Prince Vorclaf of Zoluren.

Having received Meraud's Blessing Vorclaf had a vision of Lyras' position and took a group of fighters along with Guardsman Burarm south. He ordered a diversion created to peel away the risen Sahfra which worked successfully and the main force engaged solely Lyras and a few minor minions.

Lyras was pressed during the battle that ensued and fell upon a usage of blood magic. This spell ripped a hole in the Plane of Abiding and the extra-planar demon behind her was felt by those present. With her power increased she directly battled Meraud through Vorclaf and was able to cause the god to retreat from his body. Left alone and powerless the Prince was slain with a stab to the heart. Lyras attempted to consume Vorclaf's soul, but the god was unwilling to allow her to have his champion and he returned to carry it to the Starry Road.

The aftermath of the battle has permanently altered the reality around the area and has had wide scale effects on magic.

See also: Post On Aftermath

Event Log

[Hawstkaal Road, Through the Forest]
A layer of moss along the road adds spring to the traveler's steps and muffles the sounds of footfalls. Beneath the canopy of trees veiling the area, an almost palpable sense of peace seems to hover in the air, enticing many a sojourner to tarry in this green sanctuary.

Vorclaf falls to his knees, hands balled into fists at his eyes. A bright flash of light erupts from his crouched form, bathing the area in its bluish glow. Groaning, Vorclaf gets back to his feet.

Vorclaf says, "Do we have anyone after the child? She must not interfere." Vorclaf says, "Nearly time..." Vorclaf says, "WE are the diversion."

Vorclaf says, "Iazen. Now is the time." Vorclaf says to himself, "Yes. It is here."

Vorclaf stares intently at the edge of the woods. With a beat reminiscent of a living heart, a bright orb of light throbs in the distance, illuminating a faint trail that weaves through the undergrowth.

The group follows the uncovered trail and engages Lyras.

[Wilderness]
A sparse clearing rests at the foot of a rough path leading into the forest wilderness. Savage and untamed, myriad haphazard tracks criss-cross the ground, all avoiding the remnants of a small marble altar.

Vorclaf says, "You are done. This WILL be your end." Lyras says, "Fate cannot save you either."

Lyras holds one hand in front of her chin and begins to take a slow, deliberative breath. An eerie blackness can be seen within her mouth as the air is struck with a sudden, intense chill. A malevolent radiance exudes from her now gaping maw, and tendrils of purple and black form in the air, swirling and writhing before coalescing into a funnel-like pattern that is continuously being dragged into Lyras's mouth. A feeling of immense hunger washes over you as the funnel quickly expands to envelop the area.

Your vision blanks out, replaced by nothingness. You feel your spirit, your vitality, all that you are and have been, slowly dragged mercilessly towards a gaping hole that you can suddenly feel even amidst the sheer darkness. Devouring hunger surrounds your very being as it starts to wither away and be consumed. Before your self erodes away entirely, the abyssal hole closes, and the mercy of simple unconsciousness greets you.

Lyras says, "Fools. All of you." Lyras glances at Vorclaf.

Lyras spins around to face Vorclaf! Vorclaf growls ferociously!

Lyras asks, "Hmph. You attack, then try to cease the battle?" Lyras says, "Come, Meraud."

Burarm lands a light hit to Lyras's right leg. * Lyras was just struck down! * Lyras is slain before your eyes! Lyras's steel scythe falls to the ground.

Vorclaf slowly circles Lyras. You hear the ghostly voice of Lyras say, "It seems this is not enough.."

Lyras says, "If I must.." Burarm exclaims, "You will not prevail!"

Lyras withdraws a veined iron dagger from the depths of her cloak and smoothly stabs it into her own chest! Twisting the dagger around for a moment, her frozen features betray no hint of pain over the whole ordeal. An unintelligible whisper escapes Lyras's lips as she withdraws the dagger and holds it above the ruined altar. Blood from her ruptured, unbeating heart oozes across the flat of the blade and then dribbles down onto the marble. A shockwave blasts through the area, emanating from the altar and forcing everything backwards. Everything except the wolf-masked Prince and the guard standing behind him.

You are stunned by the sudden wave of force!

Something is happening above and behind Lyras, but it is impossible to nail down. Attempts to describe it, even as you stare at its formation, involve paradox. It is a center of massless gravity. It is a hole in thin air. It radiates unseen light. It emits a fearful keening which you cannot hear. It is getting bigger.

Your mind is filled with an angry buzzing... somewhere between a hornet, a pipe organ, and a seizure. Your eyes grow dim except for the strange spectacle. Your ears go deaf save for the demonic sound. Your skin grows cold, warmth and life oozing from it, as the light resolves into an organic, milky-white surface. Before your mind can fully comprehend the shape, a concussive blast pushes against your numb flesh and the world goes dark.

Nausea pierces your gut! The air around you feels thinner, slightly dimmed of color, and the earth less sturdy than it was before. Worse still, only the nausea is going away. Something very bad just happened.

Vorclaf lands a good hit to Lyras's abdomen.

Everything in the clearing seems to become surreal. Light dims, color fades, and sound comes in as though from a distant tunnel. The only thing that remains in sharp relief is the impossible light behind Lyras, which in one final push materializes as a circular, white-
Reality breaks.

A second concussive blast radiates outwards from the clearing, flinging everyone except Lyras, Vorclaf, and Burarm into the woods. The blast continues overly long, throwing up dust into the air which refuses to come back down. Grass and shrubs disintegrate as the lifeless rock is swept clean. Even the trees in the distance twist and warp, obstructing the trail as they bow low to their new god.

Nausea pierces your gut! The air around you feels thinner, slightly dimmed of color, and the earth less sturdy than it was before. Worse still, only the nausea is going away. Something very bad just happened.

[Wilderness, Desolation]
A barren clearing of ashen rock rests at the foot of a path leading into a tangle of deformed trees. Nothing lives within a few dozen yards of the clearing's center, not even dead grass or tumbleweed mars the sick earth. The air has a grainy, dull brown tint, as though a cloud of dirt is suspended motionless in the sky. A wild growth of trees ring the desolation, their trunks twisted into strange shapes and bowed low toward the clearing's center. Also here: Ulf'Hara Guardsman Burarm who is surrounded by a luminescent sea-storm green ethereal shield, Prince Vorclaf who is surrounded by a luminescent sea-storm green ethereal shield, Devourer Lyras. Obvious paths: none. The spiders lose their interest in Lyras. Vorclaf lands a good hit to Lyras's right hand.

Burarm begins to advance on Lyras.

Burarm closes to pole weapon range on Lyras.

Burarm closes to melee range on Lyras.

Vorclaf and Lyras stare at each other from across the desolate clearing. Burarm screams and collapses to the ground, his armor pitting and melting along with portions of his face. The two combatants raise their weapons once more, paying no attention to anything but the other.

Sparks fly and metal screeches as longsword and scythe connect in violent clashes between Lyras and Vorclaf. Hefty swipes of the sword appear to rend cloth and flesh, but the Devourer's body simply repairs itself before the next connection. Return slashes of the scythe are barely deflected by the wolf-masked Prince, who shows no sign of fatigue despite the onslaught.

The battle between Vorclaf and Lyras continues on in a virtual stalemate, neither able to inflict real damage upon the other. The only loser appears to be the shriveling form of Guard Captain Burarm, his armor melting away into thin rivulets of grey goo.

The sun rises in a crisp, clear blue sky, heralding another fine day.

Lyras asks, "You have skill, immortal Meraud. But do you really think to defeat an enemy you cannot even name?"

Lyras laughs, her hair fluttering chaotically behind her as Vorclaf simply frowns. A swirl of wind howls through the area and the Devourer's typical pursed smile returns to her lips.

Lyras says, "This is my place now, godling. Let me show you."

Lyras stops, abruptly going stiff.

Energy pulses around the marble sigils inlaid in the barren rock. The energy flickers between seconds, at once both organic and a primeval force, milky white one moment and pitch-black the next. Tiny arcs shoot from symbol to confused, unreadable symbol, creating a web of energy.

Howling echoes around Vorclaf. The ethereal light around him intensifies, caught in some unseen struggle with the sigils. Holy light and demonic energy clash for almost a roisan, one growing brighter while the other gutters. Finally, the howls give way to an enraged growl and the light disappears. Meraud withdraws beyond your ken, leaving only a man in his place.

The sigils go inert once again and Lyras stumbles back into motion.

Vorclaf says, "What.. what did you do?"

Lyras's only response is to swing her scythe in a glittering arc, burying it into the Prince's heart and releasing the haft. The now-corpse collapses to the ground, only the barest rivulets of blood leaking out from around the steel.

* Vorclaf was just struck down!
* Vorclaf is slain before your eyes!
Vorclaf's blue-steel longsword falls to the ground.

Lyras leans over Vorclaf's corpse, clasping both hands in front of and slightly below her mouth. She opens her mouth and begins to breathe in deeply, as an eerie blackness can be seen slowly spreading out from within. A sensation of pure hunger and malevolence strikes you, as the dark radiance exudes from her gaping maw to coalesce into a funnel that writhes and spins across Vorclaf's inert carcass.

Within brief moments, you see the corpse begin to pale and wither as some ghostly substance begins to slowly break free of the dead body, as if being dragged by an immense power. A piercing scream echoes through the air, a primal cry from the Prince's spirit, as he appears to be quickly being devoured by Lyras's abyssal powers.

Thirteen sets of glimmering white eyes appear at the edge of the clearing. The surrounding air is assaulted by the cacophonous growl of the approaching wolf pack. Each lupine warrior pads quickly toward the fallen Prince and his attacker, lips curled in fierce snarls. All thirteen simultaneously leap toward the pair, coalescing into a single giant wolf in midair.

As the luminescent beast touches ground, a booming growl proclaims, "Not this warrior! He is mine!" The wolf snaps at the stream of ghostly effulgence and grasps it firmly within its maw. A lone howl rings out as the avatar of Meraud sprints from sight, carrying the essence of Vorclaf in its jaws.

* A meteor streaks across the sky as Vorclaf's soul departs forever to walk the Starry Road.

* Burarm was just struck down!

* A meteor streaks across the sky as Burarm's soul departs forever to walk the Starry Road.

Fighting between players and Lyras occurred here and she was killed.

You hear the ghostly voice of Lyras exclaim, "I.. must withdraw. You will all suffer for this!"

Lyras's corpse appears to float back into a standing position, her appearance swirling as wounds fade from existence as if they were never there. As the last wound vanishes, a brief smile crosses her frozen face as if at some inside joke before abruptly disappearing from sight as if she too had never been there.