Sacrament 63

[Lern]

The werebear was pulling Ignatio down with his incredible weight, when he fell off balance and suddenly heard a bang. He flunged his claw backwards, still holding the tip of ignatio's trenchcoat, whilst the bullet hit its tip and cut it. Meanwhilst, the bullet itself ricochet out backwards, spinning about 1080 degrees in a curved way before dropping down. "Aww crap. Who's the genius that did that?" He said, just before noticing a tiny spark of the explosion starting to burn his royal red cloak of near inequivalent quality to this day. Quickly he dropped it and started running away like a mammoth being chased by an entire pack iof sabertooths. "F-Fff-fif-FIIIRRRRRRRRRRE!"

The bear was scared of fire, and the cloak would easily burn into a great flame. He ran backwards, looking for Lurelai and hiding bbehind her like a great Coward. It seems his instincts have become more animalar than humane. He growled, merely thinking about the fire there made him nearly freak out. Of course, electricity and fire for lighting or torches, he was used to, but big accidental fires were bad. Especially with his giant hairs being easily flammable.

[Terry von Feledae]

Seraphita awoke quite suddenly, and the thought that crossed her mind was that she had really forgotten what it was like to be around others. Something akin to a shout had called her mind to reality, something about heresy. Something… Incredibly pointless, probably.

’Is it just my imagination or did the temperature in the room rise…?’

No, this was definitely not her imagination. I should probably note that when Seraphita talks of temperature, she does not talk about conventional warmth or cold – after all, she was incapable of even telling the two apart. No, that oddity she felt right now was much more spiritual in nature. Perhaps, instead of laying back like that, it was probably better to at least make herself a picture of the surroundings and the people – and other assorted creatures – around her. She was able to live for quite a while without taking notice of her surroundings, but from this point on it could only be considered careless.

This would take some getting used to…

It would be best to start by looking for the source of this oddity she had noticed. She looked around the room – without opening her eyes - , and indeed saw something interesting. That thing in the centre of the room, which she had completely overlooked on her way in – something rather silly to do, really. Considering the energies wafting over its surface… It was quite impressive; Normally such waves of energy were only present in small “traces” enveloping the object, which was even the case for powerful relics, but here the channels were so wide that they covered the entire surface of the container, leaving no way to tell what was within. It was a bit puzzling… There was something inside, definitely, but whatever energy it was covered with was strong enough to completely obfuscate it against even the most concentrated attempts at penetrating this wall. Perhaps she was just not meant to see it, and that was something she could live with.
It should be noted as well that she “looked” at it with her eyes completely shut. This is something that perhaps requires a bit of explanation, her “Mind’s Eye” ability.
Seraphita had a problem with her vision. That is, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to make out colours and shapes, and lately she had to concentrate quite a bit on things to really see them, and it was clear that she would soon be completely blind. It was just as it was going to happen, but she had developed a substitute… The mind’s eye allowed her to see the bodies of living beings even beyond the skin, be able to tell apart every single sinew, nerve and blood vessel, as well as see all channeled kinds of energy in form of aforementioned traces. The tradeoff, however, was that it made her completely unable to see simple, inorganic objects that weren’t powered up in any way, which had led to many awkward accidents before…

Still, fading eyesight was a remarkably trivial problem if there was a way to tell what was necessary anyway.

She let her mental eye shift over the room. The coffin, while undoubtly important, was not that which sent out that odd warmth; Its energy was entirely self-contained. Oddly, she wasn’t distressed by it the way she was by the relics outside, but… Why am I worrying about things? People. The other templars are important right now. She concentrated on those… And immediately regretted it. Most of them were fairly average, be they human, beast or whatever else, but some of them… Being unable to tell what they actually looked like, she could not describe who they were by normal humans’ standards, but they could be instantly told apart from the others. It’s not that they had no soul, it was just that that part of it that Seraphita considered most important of all, that flame that burned in any man’s chest, had been nearly doused, chained down and forgotten. Had they really traded their free wills for that feeling of safety…? Well, for now, she would just have to bear it and hope their lack of a place in this life would soon get them killed. Averting her mental gaze, she tried to find something more positive. Yet she could only find two were anywhere near noteworthy, one being female only standing aside who had somehow lost her eyes and… What was up with that right arm? That could barely be considered a limb, a mass of twisted flesh that should not take that form for any reason whatsoever…

Hm, I should not be surprised. After all, all of us templars have an interesting story to tell… It even reminds me a little of myself. Good thing I got rid of that thing…

The other one was a man involved in the commotion outside who did not seem to have anything special about him whatsoever, his normality making him almost stick out from the other templars… These two were the only ones whose flames stood out from the others. It was odd; One could think that among Solomon’s templars, there would be more of them, but it was not to be. It was unlikely that those two even knew what they were bearing and it was probably just a coincidence or a character trait. Hm.
Perhaps there were so few of them and so many negatives precisely because this was the eighth section of the Vatican? Perhaps Seraphita had found herself in the wrong place, after all. Of course, with Zeiken’s arrival, none of it would matter anymore.

He knew.

Well, as long as he wasn’t here – Seraphita refused to even consider that he might not come at all – she might as well make the best of the situation. Only now opening her eyes to make sense of what was happening outside, she stepped forward. There were multiple bodies, most in a state of uproar of one kind or another. This was a bit unnerving, so she considered force-calming them all, but so many at once, without physical contact… Chances were something would go wrong and she would send them into a completely catatonic state. As of now, she could only find out what was going on in a more humane manner. Her voice was clear as a cold night, quiet, but at the same time almost unnaturally audible even to those caught up in their own matters.

“What’s wrong?”

[Seth-Rah]

Things happened for a reason. Everything happened for a reason. So what was happening then happened for a reason, even if she did not know it, even if Rochelle had no way of knowing it. Not then, at least. Later, perhaps, but not then.

She had arrived in time to hear the roar, the accusation. Fear was not, perhaps, a common trait among the templars. Not as she felt it. Yet it was a feeling she knew well, and she was familiar with several forms. She was not quite familiar with this one. It was similar to other forms, but it had its own special feeling, its own unique sense of dread.

There was no mistaking the intent behind the words and voice. The one that cried out was enraged, and sought blood. If the situation was not addressed promptly, there would be violence. Rochelle realized this almost immediately, and her reaction was almost as much instinct as conscious intent. For the time, it was best to stay out of the way. Rochelle slid along the wall, stopping near a corner. As it was, she was powerless to actually stop it. If anything, she might just be a liability. She could actually help with the aftermath, as horrible as the thought was. But not with actually stopping it. That was not where her abilities were. It never had been.

Momentarily absorbed in such thoughts, Rochelle was oblivious to his presence until she heard his words. Yet the joy she had begun to feel was tempered by the growing dread she felt when he continued. A golem. That was interesting, but was in and of itself no concern. Yet he said it was attempting to strike down one of their comrades. That was troubling. Of more concern was the context. The normal guard was composed of humans, not ghosts, and a golem was far from human. The only reason a golem would have been there…

One templar was trying to kill another. One templar had accused another of being a heretic, accused another of treason. Why? The question made her feel incredibly uneasy. Perhaps it was something she had not caught. Perhaps it was something she had not seen. There were plenty of those. Yet it all felt somewhat wrong, and she was led to wonder how long the group could stay together as it was without falling apart. Such was the result of bringing those who worked alone together…

There was so much noise. Another roar, a mechanical groaning, several voices speaking at once, a thump, and crying. Yet just as things fell slightly quieter, something else happened. There was a horrendously loud sound that left her ears in pain, some sort of bang. Then she caught the smell of something burning, and then actually heard it. Burning…

It seemed appropriate, somehow. In some twisted way, it seemed appropriate.

Then another voice, crystal clear above the other sounds. Rochelle was not sure how she could hear it, but she could. How was not so important, after all, considering everything else. Of more concern was what the words were, the question that was asked. Rochelle truly hoped the others could hear it, and that they would respond. From all the noise, she could tell something was wrong now, but not what.

Yet, with the barely audible sound of metal slowly scraping against metal for a brief moment, her anxiety continued to slowly grow. Even if this was resolved, what would happen next? Would another problem arise, threatening to shatter the fragile order the church had and plunge the Eighth Section into chaos?

She was happy her brother had arrived… but she also wished their commander would arrive. He would be able to keep this sort of thing from cropping back up, and we would be able to tell them why they had been gathered in the first place. If they actually knew, perhaps his presence would not have even been necessary to maintain some form of order.

[Mikado]

The orange sunlight slowly disappears. In its stead the moon has already filled its position in the sky. No, actually there is still a little bit. The tip of the glowing sun, its last rays of hope still try to shine through. The horizon wavers with the last glows of orange, and the white light from the moon. The scenery that has no meaning at all, is reflected a thousand times in each of the holy weapons. Their golden glow changes together with the light that makes it shine.

This is image, no matter how beautiful doesn't stop him. His unelegant figure just mows forward. A brown coat with no history or meaning. A golden ring in shape of cross. A silver spear not drawn for decades. A long white beard in contrast to the short black hair. What path can such a man possibly take? He would answer easily.

"None. I don't have the privilege of having one, I can just stand by and help others walk theirs.

Putting it simply he's the guard of the road. If someone would have to place him on a path that he followed, his would be one of protecting the paths of others. But even in such interpretation would he not move according to his, but just stay in one point. And if he doesn't move on it can be just as well neglected. That's why he believes there is none. He actually contradicts himself. He's one big contradiction. But that doesn't matter to him. As long as he can live with his ideal he should be content.

Zeiken already sees the Cardinal raise his arm from afar. Whether its a greeting or just a signal that everything can start Zeiken doesn't know, but with it the place wakes up. Guards start moving about, going to their planned defensive position around the church. But a few actually go inside the church- after all, who puts up guard dogs to guard a lion?

Raphael immediately starts to speak when he faces Zeiken.
"I'm glad you managed to arrive, even though it's in the last minute."
While the words he says seem like a polity greeting, they certainly aren't meant as one. Annoyance overflows in every word he says and he underlines the 'last minute' part with extra vigor. As Cardinal and Leader of the Eight Section can they do nothing but insult each other in a round about way.
"Your letter said to arrive before sunset, and that's exactly what I did. If you wanted me to be here on an another time, then you should've said so."
Even though the Cardinal is quick and witty with their choices, does Zeiken rarely say something that isn't an absolute fact. Trying to argue with him would be like trying to argue with truth itself.
"Hmpf... everyone is getting impatient, as expected are the Templars hard to handle, and keeping them any longer waiting can result in something unpretty, so just go inside."

Raphael turns his back on the Templar that doesn't respond and quickly walks towards the church gates.

From the way he walks alone Zeiken already can understand that the Cardinal is afraid. But he isn't concerned with someone like him. His gaze is turned towards a larger group of templars and he moves towards them.

It is not hard to tell what happened there. Although there are many possibilities, Zeiken doesn't need to think long to realize the one that actually is true. Isn't it only natural that when you put thirty dragons in a small cage they will start fighting each other? But even if it's natural he cannot accept it. These templars are members out of their own free will, so they should face the consequences of that, like having to accept church superiority or not accepting the believes of others. He doesn't know what exactly happened here, but whatever it was it is no excuse for trying to kill each other. Not knowing who did what here his words weren't directed to anyone in particular.

"The one who you will offend during tranquility may be the one to save your back on the battlefield."

But from the beginning didn't he need to spare no words, his presence alone was more than enough to say what he wants to say. So something vague like this should be okay. His sorrowful face just glances at everyone, and if one would meet him here for the first time one might misunderstand this as him being sad. But it was just that layer of grief that covered all of his expressions.

"Let us see why we were summoned."

He just says the necessary and progresses towards the gate.

*

The moment during which he shall explain the graveyard of weapons, the walls of runes, the coffin of god and the meeting of beasts is nearing. Raphael stands near the gate of the church and directs every entering Templar to take a seat. All of the benches are faced towards the holy coffin, which soon will become the stage. But before Raphael will speak-

A roar. A scream of a beast that echoes through the air. It pierces through every defence and reaches the hearts of those who are outside. Exactly on the line of the horizon, just in front of the wall of weapons- does purple smog appear. It's more like steam, that is released when something that is too hot for this world touches the air. When it becomes so thick that is impossible to see through, a shape emerges out of it. As if just crawling out of its lion hole the beast releases another enraged scream. It's a demon. It's certainly a demon. Perhaps a devil, perhaps a dragon, but this is certainly a demon. The size is unbelievable. Two- no, three- it has the size of three churches at least. Each of its fingers is larger than any warrior present. It roars. It screams. Woken up form a sleep that shouldn't be broken the beast stares at the church. This stare alone seems to be enough to break through all defenses and pierce that what is hidden inside. It dashes, runs towards its pray and-

An explosion worth at least several firing cannons. The devil runs right into an invisible wall, that is seen just for a second. It shines with a blinding flash and repels the monster. Stumbling back, stepping on its brethren, the demon tries to regain its balance. After slowly trying to realize what actually happened it releases a loud yell in anger and slashed blindly forward with strength of a missile. Another flash, as the fist halts abruptly half way in air, facing an unbreakable obstacle. It roars, it roars again, and continues its raging attacks against the shield blessed by god.

The last orange sun rays disappear, and a dark ceiling replaces the light heavens from before. Before everyone will be seated and Raphael will end his talk, will ten more of these appear. And this are only the first minutes into the night. For how long will this onslaught continue?

Long enough to make an unreasonable shield reasonable.

[Hidden Fun Stuff]

Ignatio's vision became blurs of colors as people jumped in the middle of him and the golem. By the time he landed on his butt, there were no fewer than four extra people, and the golem had stopped, only to break down into tears.

Ignatio knew that he wasn't getting out of this mass gathering without offering something in explanation. He pulled himself to his feet, knowing at least not to antagonize anyone around him. Zeiken himself had even shown up, leaving a few choice words which shamed, at the very least, Ignatio's own pride.

Of course, I probably deserve it after starting this. Why was it started anyway...? Ignatio couldn't remember what came before "were-bere paw" in the day's events. He turned to the majority of the group, for the bear man had somehow stopped a projectile.

"Once I remember why this happened, I shall freely explain it to whoever desires to know." Knowing that being an ass would get him nowhere except dead in this scenario, he walked towards the gate that Zeiken had so helpfully indicated upon his arrival. Ignatio hoped nobody else was going to come after him for leaving without an explanation.

[Squee]

Blast it. These things just don't give up.

Shadic kept running. He was being chased by a lot of demons, mostly lower class weaklings, but in such a large group, there was no way for Shadic to handle them alone. Typical. He had gotten use to being hunted. Too bad his left wing had been damaged. It was badly wrapped, but it was difficult enough to wrap it since the injury was closer to his body. He needs to be more carefully when he's hunting. His cloak covered most of his body. Flying would not have helped though considering the fact that the demons would have followed him into the air anyway. Shadic had been running for a long time. He thought it was close to about 8 hours, but he didn't really know. Something was up ahead.

Great, that was one big demon. But wait, it wasn't there for him? It looked like it was trying to run into a graveyard. He couldn't see the demon well considering how far he was. It roared, then ran again. There was a flash, and it was pushed back. Getting closer, he could see the crosses in the ground. Well, at least he could be safe there, but he realized it wasn't a graveyard. It was a defense.

He pulled out one of his swords. There were a lot of smaller demons there too. This wasn't going to easy. He didn't know if he could use his fire, because he was sweating so much. He concentrated his dark power, and got ready. He would confuse the big one enough that, hopefully, it would start attacking the smaller demons, long enough that he could slip by. He fired off the attack at the big demon. It hit the demon and the effects were instant. The demon stopped for a minute and looked around. It then went back to running at the barrier.

Great. Either that demon is too strong, or I am just too exhausted.

He was too close to try another attack. He ran right by the demons right into the graveyard of relics. At least, that's what it looked like to Shadic. The demons chasing him ran into the barrier, and were pushed back. Shadic went far enough into the field of relics so that he would be safe. He got on his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath. He looked around. There was a building in the center. That's what all this protection is for. What were they guarding, God himself? He didn't concern himself with it.

After a few minutes when he caught his breath again, he turned and sat on the ground. He tried to get his fire going. His fire came from his golden bracelet. He knew it was going to be difficult. He concentrated, but the fire was hardly noticeable from all the sweat dampening his glove, which was what he used to control the fire. The fire got a little stronger once it started to dry the glove. Shadic needed some fire. The fire dried the glove enough that he could control it. Good. He needed to eat, and he wanted to cook something.

Shadic reached into the dufflebag over his shoulder, and pulled out a plastic bag. He pulled the dead animal out of it. He extended one of the blades out of his wrist on his mechanical arm. He had lost his right arm long ago, and replaced it with his mechanical arm. He put the blade right into where the head was. The dead animal had been decapitated, and it's heart was cut out. Overkill? Perhaps, but in this day and age, one couldn't be too careful, considering the mutations of the animals.

He secured the animal on the blade and started a fire on the glove on his real hand. He held the small fire in his hand and started to cook the dead animal. Stupid animal was the one that bit his wing. Hard. He killed it though, so, in the end, Shadic got the last laugh. He cooked the animal on the blade because he nearly melted his mechanical hand holding one once. That was one mistake Shadic wouldn't make again.

He continued to cook the animal. He looked at the building. He could only see in the building at a few spots, but it definitely looked like they were prepared for war. You'd have thought they were going to fight Satan himself. Maybe, this had something to do with why he felt he was pointed this way.

When Shadic goes to a church, he always prays for God to direct him in which way he should go. He usually hangs around until someone or something points him in a certain direction. He felt he had been pointed this way for a reason. Praying for direction was how he found the crystal that mutated him.

After he put it into his body, he had mutated into the abomination he was now. Oh well. Shadic didn't regret it at all. The crystal gave him an immunity to all defenses, which is why he could walk into the field of relics without any problem. It was definitely worth taking, since the Ghosts were planning on mass producing it.

Although, when he thought about how many demons were trying to get to that church. It might explain why they had been hunting him so hard for the past three months. They must want something in here pretty badly. Shadic was almost afraid to find out. Oh well. He looked at the animal he was roasting. Almost half done. Great. It smells so good, but he couldn't eat it until it was fully cooked. Food poisoning is a lot more costly to health than it used to be. Oh well.

[Karnstantine]

Geoff let go of Rachel/Na'rac's arm. "He's naught but a danger to himself, Sister. The Cardinal has decided. You've done naught wrong, but you needn't dirty your hands with the blood of this reckless fool." He then scowled at the aforementioned reckless fool. He couldn't remember what occurred less than minutes before? He would confer with that blunderer later.

He had turned to address Rion, when the horrific roar, and ensuing blast, occurred. He winced slightly, because the sound could only have come from one like himself. Contrary to what Jethro had apparently known, (OOC: I'm pointin' this out, Wraith, though you had no real way to know...) there weren't a lot of Templar, save for the commander and a select handful of the Vatican officials who knew the truth about Geoff's arm, and "condition".

He addressed Rion, at long last, after the ground stopped shaking. "Brother Galford, it has been far too long." He held out his right fist. "How fare you in these troubled times, friend?"

[Terry von Feledae]

Some things in this world always remained the same. Most people didn’t think about it too much, but it was fairly comforting to the human mind that gravity never changed, or that the earth would not suddenly change its path of orbit for no reason. Should something like this happen anyway, it would probably be rather discomforting for anyone involved.
Seraphita was having a similar feeling right now.

When she wanted to be heard, she was heard. It had always been this way, like a natural law: Whenever she said something this way, people had always turned towards her. Even if it was to dismiss her, they were generally at least cooperative enough to show some sign of notice. She never understood when someone else was trying to make themselves audible by shouting when others weren’t going to listen. It just seemed like they weren’t trying. A single clear sentence with enough intent behind it was generally enough. After all, if someone really wanted to be heard…
Yes, she had been heard, quite definitely. The only unusual thing was that no one seemed to care.

On second thought, this shouldn’t put her off this much… After all, this was the eighth section of the Vatican. This was no simple-minded group of travelers or the last team she had worked with. Something like that was to be expected of them… Alone, a templar was dangerous to himself and all around him, but in such a small space it was like trying to keep a hundred dominant hounds in a single room, each held back only by a leash of silk. They were too concentrated on each other in one way or another to pay heed to a silly question such as this. A single wrong word was probably enough to turn the place into complete chaos until all that’s left are scraps of flesh all over the floor. There had already been a confrontation right now, and even though it was quickly and easily resolved, there would probably be many more such situations in the future.

She considered how this could turn out in the future. None of the possible scenarios Seraphita envisioned could possibly end anywhere near well.
Their task was obviously of an important nature. She recalled the energy captured in the strange, coffin-like object. Its sheer force had left her mental vision blurry for a short while, similar to the effect that looking at the sun with normal eyes for too long caused. Something trivial wouldn’t have that kind of force flowing through it. Surely this was why they were called here for, but why did that man make the mistake of calling them all? Seraphita had never seen the entire section assembled, so she had not expected them to be… Like this, but that man surely could tell beforehand that it would only lead to complications… Or was it really the first time that he and everyone else involved saw them together? Perhaps the cardinal would regret it soon. Probably, yes.

Her senses slowly awoke from their hibernation, showing the mental processes of these people, thinly painting their basic emotions onto the sky. And she did not like what she saw. This would very definitely not work. Unless… Unless there was some sort of connecting link, someone who could keep the entire order together…

Of course.

Seraphita could feel his presence before he even reached the gates. He had presence - in a way, he seemed more real than everyone else. If there still were living physicists, they would probably compare his effect on the people around him to a sphere of lead put onto a soft surface. It seemed Seraphita was still half dormant after all, how could she forget this otherwise? And there was something different about him as well.
His innate flame; It had changed since she last saw him. It had grown. And how… Comparing it to those around him created an image similar to a star amidst a collection of candles. It could only be described as magnificent; The play of light in the church was nothing compared to this immaterial beauty. Surely there would be no problem while he was there…

Yes, but what happens if he disappears?

Better not think of that…
Mentally watching the ones who had been involved in the confrontation out of idle curiosity – why did that man claim he didn’t remember? His head was not hit and no processes in his brain were harmed in any way – she warmly greeted Zeiken like an old friend.

While she only noticed the attempted attack on the field of artifacts in passing, it still angered her slightly… Although probably not for the reason one might expect.

[Lord Wraith]

Jethro watched the enormous demon crash and flail against the shield the relics presented. Never before had he witnessed a beast of such size and horror. Yet there was a beauty about it. He couldn't explain it. A smirk crossed his face. He could only think of what a reputation the Templar who could slay such a thing would earn themselves. His hand on his schiavona, the Templar began to wander around what was left of the Cathedral. At least, he could only imagine that was what this church once could have been comparable to. Closing his eyes, Jethro allowed his mind to imagine the Renaissance era art and Gothic architecture. He was quickly brought back to reality by a cold draft rustling his long dark cape. It seems in his mindless wander he was brought towards the "coffin" in the middle of the room. Did he dare touch it? He was compelled towards it, it's surface was indescribable. The wealth it would have been worth even just a decade ago. He looked down at it again, suddenly he went very cold. For all the glimmer and sheen of its surface. This object did not show his reflection. Jethro couldn't help but question many things. Was this the object's own properties, or perhaps something more supernatural. Drawing a needle from his belt, he pricked to arm. Perhaps a shot back to reality would help, though the wound barely brought notice to Jethro, let alone pain. He had been tattooing himself for days. He was foolish to think a simple needle prick would even register. He had to touch this "object". His mind wouldn't be still unless he did.

Jethro slowly reached his arm out, his fingers unfurling as his hand descended upon the glimmering surface...

[Zyros]

The section's leader had arrived, which meant the chaos would likely die down, if only for a bit. Ombra noticed that the one responsible for most of the chaos had simply walked away, but that didn’t bother him much, because at the very least something had come of the event.

Standing up, Ombra calmly walked by their leader, gave a slight bow, and then paused for a moment. He was looking deeply upon Seraphita. Not because of anything physical regarding her, but rather because she might serve to be a large problem. Before drawing too much attention though, the Templar looked elsewhere and proceeded to slowly walk away, though he could be heard speaking very lowly to what seemed himself and spitting some of his own blood onto the ground. Then, however, a large noise; the giant creatures trying to enter the holy field. As large as they were, Ombra felt that their power wasn’t at all as impressive as their mass. Oh well, best to ignore it.

Ombra walked into the building housing the item of interest. On his way to finding his seat, Tenebre notified his sister he would be sitting down close by. There wasn’t much left to do until Zeiken informed all the Templars as to what they would do. As he sat down, Ombra noticed someone approaching the object in the center of the room.

"Maybe he'll touch it, and we'll find out if it does anything other than waste the Templar's time."

[Squee]

Shadic watched the demon pound the barrier. What power. Of course, considering the size of the demon, it shouldn't have been a surprise. Shadic realized the flame on his glove was dying out. Why, though? His glove was dry. Shadic took a minute and realized he was out of breath again. Again, why?

He tried to create more flame, but he just felt so weak. He looked around. There could only be three reasons. One was that maybe whatever was in the church was effecting him. The second was that maybe, just maybe, the crystal was being overloaded by the sheer number of relics. The third was that maybe the crystal still had some flaws. He hoped it was not the second or the third, because if it kept up for too long, who knows what might happen to the crystal?

He got his fire going again, and he noticed another big demon had come and started attacking the barrier with his brother. If these things kept showing up, no amount of protection would keep them safe forever. Maybe that's what was with all of those people. Maybe they were expecting that to happen. If so, whatever was in that church must be important.

Shadic let his thoughts wonder for a minute. Why would he be pointed here? What could he possibly do to be a help to these people? Considering the number of people, what could one more person do? Oh well. He would think about it again when the time came. Right now, he was hungry. Almost done.

After a little while, Shadic noticed the demons still pounding away. Maybe he should take one of them down.

Heck no. Fighting ONE of those things alone was suicide. Fighting two would be downright stupid.

Shadic watched. He was too weak anyway. He was definitely starting to feel it now. He was starting to have trouble holding his hands up. This was maddening. He was stronger than this. What could be sapping his strength? Oh well. As long as it doesn't get any worse, he figured he'd be alright.

Shadic looked at the animal. It was done cooking, finally, and it smelled great. He started eating it while it was still on the blade. It was definitely worth it. It was the first thing he had eaten in two days. It tasted great. Of course, he would have eaten anything about now.

Shadic continued eating. Maybe after he stuffed his face, he would see what is going on at the church. Maybe. Of course, getting close wouldn't be easy. If one person noticed him, they'd probably kill him. He might be able to defend against two, but the other hundred, or so, might be a problem. Of course, he couldn't leave. Not until he figured out why he was pointed here. Not to mention the fact that he would be slaughtered once he got out of the protection of the relics.

[Traidon]

Rachel blinked in surprise, the tears starting to slow. Did he just call me sister? What did i do to recieve such a honor? And how did he know i was a female, its been so long since anyone called me human. It was always monster or templar. Never sister. She was the lowest of the low a sinner and yet this man held in higher regard for some reason she couldn't fathom.
Na'rac decided to filled her in since it seemed she had missed it earlier, and his hearing was one of the senses he had in that form. He knows your name, your mind blocked it out while you were delirious with confusion. But that, nor the commotion doesn't change the fact that you are here to do something now tell me what the area looks like.

Rachel thinks as she wipes her face with hr left arm leaving a small scratch on her nose, Sorry, i'm being an idoit again. Rachel stands up and looks around. Rachel begins describing the room in her head but before she gets to describing the coffin, the loud piercing sound occurs. Na'rac couldn't help but let some off his excitement show. Something was here, something he hadn't expected. He could feel Rachel's initial fear, but he didn't care, Humans are either insane, idoits, or cowards. Rachel was one of those cowards, he was the one keeping both of them alive. But that was what made her useful to him.

Rachel Composed herself and walked over to the window to see the beastial demon attacking the relics. She described as best as she could in her mind to Na'rac but something nagged her. Are they coming after the coffin?
Coffin?!Na'rac Na'rac asked rachel to describe the coffin. As he heard the describation in his mind he could only wonder what the contents were. Maybe this was the reason for all this and why he was sent here. this could be more interesting then he first thought.

Rachel was slightly disturbed by na'rac's recent behavior but not anymore that her situation in general. But she was more worried about the apparent demons that are bearing down on the church. She decided it would be best to observe the beasts and ascertain what might be the best way to go about taking them down. She decided she would ask one of the other templars to help. She looked over to the man that had called her by name and realized it would be rude to interrupt his conversation so she decided to ask someone else but who. She decided on the pale women in white. She seemed slightly angered by something maybe it was the creatures that threatened the barrier.

Rachel walked over to her(Seraphita) and asked "Those things out there look pretty tough. I think it would be smart to see if there is any place they can't guard or weak point. What do you think?"

[Terry von Feledae]

In a way, everyone was the same. To the one Rachel had spoken to, they all looked the same from the outside, and everyone was bizarre in some way on the inside. As such, she wasn’t surprised or discomforted by the golem’s unnatural appearance; It just was more obvious than the little wonders and horrors every one of them held within. She did note the way the line of indiscernible thoughts implied a second mind behind this body with vague interest, however.

“Oh, it is good to see that you are back to normal condition even after that disappointing event just now.”
Before Rachel could really react, Seraphita’s head already turned towards the demon. It wasn’t like she needed to, as she already saw it as it was; It just seemed appropriate for the situation. Around this point it also became noticeable that she never made any unnecessary movements or gestures, spending most of the time in a single fixed position.
“Weak point? It probably will not be necessary to look for any specific one, for its weakness seems fairly clear to me.”
Disdain was clearly audible in her voice now.
“It is a dreadfully dense creature, is it not? Its lack of reason and intelligence is the only weakness it will need. Why such a thing was granted that kind of body is something I do not understand… If those things” – as she referred to the relics, still with the same tone – “really are enough to stop it, it should not even be trying.”
She paused for a second. The neutral smile did not leave its place.
“…Of course, what will happen if these objects fail? They work remarkably well for now, but can you really guarantee that they will keep doing that for the rest of the evening? It may turn out to not be such a great idea to rely on them after all, do you not think…?

In either case, we are better off avoiding them altogether. It is just as pointless for us to think about ending them as it is for them to try coming in here. In spite of their weak mind, they far surpass any of us in physical aspects.

Have you thought, however… What if there is something much more dangerous than these demons, but just in front of us, without a shield of things to hide behind?"
Curiously, she looked at Jethro.
“It would be interesting to see if that object is capable of acting in some way, no?”

[Seth-Rah]

The voice was familiar. Rochelle knew that voice. She knew who had come, knew what had changed. She heard nothing but a voice, but she knew what had changed, that for now, at least, the group was less likely to tear itself apart.

Their leader had arrived, possibly saving them from another, similar incident from occurring. Hopefully. Perhaps such a thing would not have happened even without him... but with his presence, they would hopefully not find out.

Yet they hopefully would learn something, which Zeiken seemed to acknowledge. Why they were summoned... Rochelle was curious. She knew many of them had gathered there, which indicated something important. Perhaps even critically important.

How could she not be curious?

Yet she was not allowed to dwell on such things for long. A horrific sound, a great beast's roar, communicating its fury to all nearby. Such an overwhelmingly loud noise that it reached the church as if they were standing beside it. Silence, or at least something approaching it, was once again denied.

It was followed by another sound, just as loud, yet different. Far different. An explosion, likely caused by it crashing into the barrier as it ineffectually attempted to reach the church. That was soon followed by another roar, and the cycle repeated itself. Roar, explosion, roar, explosion. A continuous, wasted attempt to break through the barriers. Yet despite what pain it brought them, the creatures continued to struggle, desperately reaching out to the church...

No, not the church. To what was inside.

Rochelle did not think the barriers would fail. The thought was the furthest thing from her mind at that moment. A different distressing idea had come to her, a rather simple one. It could have been worse, really, since it was possible that their mission held the solution. Whether by providing an answer or removing the need for it, their mission might address the problem by its nature. She did not know whether it would or not, and the idea had occurred to her. Yet it did little to keep her from growing even more uneasy.

Just going from the sounds, gigantic beasts had arrived. Inevitably, the church would end up surrounded by creatures, from the smallest to the most colossal given the current rates, and that would present a very simple problem. Even with all the Templars there, they had limited power. If the church was surrounded by so many beasts, how would they get away?

Well, when it was time, they would find a way. That they still existed indicated those gathered there were capable of getting out of dangerous situations alive.

She turned to follow her brother, making her way closer despite any apparent way to find him again. A faint metallic scraping might have been heard as she moved, loudest whenever she turned. Yet even then, it was quiet. How unlikely it could have been noticed, given the talking, the roars, and the explosions...

She quietly sat down at her brother's right side, once again wondering what it was that had brought them there. She heard her brother's words, and was curious what he meant, but did not say anything. She did not actually know what 'it' was, nor why touching it might cause something. All she could really tell was that someone was apparently doing something that would suggest impending contact.

By the time Ombra would have finished describing what 'it' was, something would have happened, and his attention would have been diverted. Probably, at least. Even if that something turned out to be nothing at all. Disappointment could be just as distracting as actual events...

[Gravitee]

Orion looked around at the other templars, spinning the mace in his hands abscentmindedly.

Definately a strange group. Very strange.

He growled under his breath at the demon's attempting to break through the barrier. He rubbed his temple with one hand, the other balancing his mace.

He finally had enough and made a strange noise at the demons. Somewhat like a hiss, somewhat like a bark, somewhat like yelling. When the demons ignored it, he went back to grumbling to himself and trying to block out the noise.

He pondered for a moment on his teammates, whether or not he should trust them. Whether or not he should try to learn more about them.

Bah. I'm not here to socialize. I'm not sure what I'm here for, but socializing is not it.

[NDraxian0]

Luralai was feeling rather sluggish compared to her fellow templar right now. Despite her core's heavy armor, and overall size, she should have not been the last to greet Zeiken, at least of those who decided to greet him at this time, with same the polite respectful manner she had shown the Cardinal. Further actions that needed to be taken, such as offering explainations to the crying templar, and perhaps a subtle scolding of Ignatio since their leader seems to have other concerned. Perhaps it was just the quicker actions of the other Templars that made her seem that way, or perhaps its the situation is making her more cautious, playing to her more patient side. And for ones like her, patience is far more useful than speed, at least before the battle to survive.

Either way there are places she needed to be, even though they not far away at all. Her smaller self would arrive in the area with the soon after the larger managed to puff herself back into a standing position, in time for her to notice a templar approach the artifact.

Luralai wondered if her kind was meant to be able to kneel at all, even if her armor wasn't needed. Until the demon's roar and subsequent crash brought her to another train of thought, one in her memories. Ones from a time before she needed her armor, of a story she heard, and of a certain book she now wishes she brought with her on this mission. This would be the first time she had encountered one of those demons, but she had heard of them, but the way she had left another impression of them on her, that was quite likely quite different than any of the other templars. But that was a pondering of truth for another time, she had a few things more important to do at the moment.

Her more human self speaks to Jethro as she attempts to grab his wrist,
"I wouldn't do that. Not at until we know what it actually is."

Her other self would enter the church and sit close to the door soon after.

[Mikado]

Raphael stood silently in front of the golden coffin. He was playing with the rings on his fingers nervously. For some reason did they start to ache his hand. He glanced around all the walls which were covered by thousand of brilliant relics. The items seemed to move like leaves in an invisible wind. He staggered to one of the few windows which weren't completely covered in mysterious runes and took a peek at the chaos ravishing outside.
As far as the horizon stretched the earth seemed to be squirming with obscure beasts. There was no common name to call them all by, as they were as various as Raphael had ever seen them. Some looked human like, others more like animals and different ones didn't seem to like anything he ever saw. The biggest of the beasts seemed to outgrow even the highest of skyscrapers Raphael ever set eye upon. It screamed and was beating away at the air that so firmly opposed him. The holy barrier that perhaps even outranked the one that the Pope had not even begun to falter. Even though opposed against an ongoing brigade of ever increasing abominations it stood firm as a mighty mountain.
Raphael returned to his spot next to the coffin. The Templars around him were getting more and more impatient. Apparently they didn't enjoy the fact that they were asked to wait quietly inside while all of their deepest enemies were acting freely outside. Screw them. They have not the slightest idea what they are so ignorantly in the presence of. For a moment Raphael thought he saw the walls shaking but realised it were just the relics that were disturbing his imagination. Where they battling the invasion of beast? The inner relics shouldn't be able to reach them, as graveyard of millions of relics was covering the ground far outside the church. He dismissed it and turned towards Zeiken. The man hadn't moved from the spot he was standing, next to the second, now locked, entrance of the church. Raphael always thought of him as an oddball and his peculiar personality didn't amuse him one bit. Then again he was the most normal one from the bunch of templars.
“I'm going to start the opening ceremony soon. I think you know what's going to happen right?” But Zeiken just turned his head. “Actually I have no idea. All messengers that the Vatican sent me must have not arrived. Quite odd, as the one summoning me to this place reported that the journey was one of the most easy ones.”
Raphael tried to mask his surprise. The Vatican didn't want him to know? Zeiken was highly influential in Vatican, as many priests wouldn't mind being friends with one of the most powerful inquisitors on earth today. Did this mean that they held me in such high regard? Not telling this man in front of him and telling the lowest ranked Cardinal had a clear meaning. He was in the high league now.
Exhilarated by his discovery he told Zeiken he'd look into it and after receiving one particularly suspicious glance he paced towards the middle of the church, where the coffin stood. Never before did he feel so sure of himself. In front of him was certainly the most powerful artefact that ever existed, second perhaps only to the holy grail itself. The remains of the first Temple of Solomon. The mighty king who summoned 52 demons under his control to construct an altar to honour the very thing that banished them to hell. The same Temple that was used centuries later as a Gate for the beasts, that were now crawling outside, to come to this world. Naturally they wanted to retrieve the key of hell, after that which gave them life could easily take it away. And it will.


He stood in the middle of all Templars, which now were all looking at him. The relics were now shining and shaking in a huge orchestra. Raphael spoke.
“Today, we change the world. In this very place decades ago the original cult of templars-” “-before they were full of inhumen as yourself-” Raphael added with a sneering voice. “-they found something very special, something very dear, not only to them, but to the whole world. The moment they touched it, it woke up from a slumber it had been since the start of the cataclysm.”
Raphael waited a moment to let it all sink in.
“That was the day they found the lost key of Solomon's Temple. However the place was soon swarmed with beasts in an amount that the current one doesn't even reach its roots. The brave men had not the knowledge of the relic we have today to use or destroy it, all they could do was make sure no foul beast would scratch its beautiful case with their deviant claws. There was no escape possible and all were slain. However before their heroic fall they managed to cast a spell of power we cannot comprehend. They put a barrier around the relic which cut it off from the world completely. It was erased from the memories and sight of not only all beasts- but also humans. It was lost until the barrier would wear off in which case the fastest one to sense it- probably a fiend- would claim it.”
He fell silent, as whispers started to spread around the templars. Whether it was because they were realizing what stood in front of them, or because the relics started to emit unnatural light Raphael wasn't sure of. Perhaps both.


“But then fate made a turn!” His voice assassinated all the rumble of his crowd. “How it came to be there, magic or a lucky survivor, we do not know. But we found it! A scroll reporting the unfortunate news of their loss, and the most fortunate news of their gain! Just in time as the barrier that we cannot replicate nor even reinforce was wearing off, we found the biggest weakness of the foul creatures that are now desperately trying to take it away from us!”
His eyes shone dangerously, madly even. He couldn't resist a smile and raised his hands.
“With the largest amount of funds the Vatican build this church, this fortress of relics around Solomon's coffin! The money that could let all Europe feast and live in abundance and prosperity for years was spent on this seal, for this will let all humanity live in abundance and prosperity for millennia!!”
He couldn't resist the laughing, and turned around towards the coffin putting his small hands on its enormous front. That very moment all the relics started to flare like small suns. Surrounded by the stars around him he was going for the very heart of it all. He pushed with all his force as the coffin slowly was opening. Screaming and yelling of the Templars didn't reach him at all. His world was all contained in the golden tomb. And sun exploded above him blinding all with a nova from above. But all he saw was the wonderful structure inside the coffin. A magnificent circular creation, that could almost remind one of a crown, constructed from thousands of fragile golden threads yet creating a relic more sturdy than any. And on this crown small red rubies were placed... dripping rubies, flowing rubies, like rivers in the mountains, streaming downstream from the tip of the crowns top... yet those weren't rubies. As Raphael moved his sight from the crown to himself, following the river of red he stopped at the silver blade pierced right through his chest. He didn't feel it, all he saw, all he noticed was the crown... he wanted to reach out for it but something grabbed and pulled him. The rivers of red changed into streams. Screaming as he was torn from his beloved relics his sight abandoned him as he was flung into the air, and when the last air from his chest was smashed away with his collapse- he was already dead.

*

It all happened swiftly and quickly. A being surrounded by a golden light pierced itself through the rune covered roof of the church, so gracefully that it seemed as if it just simply flew right through it. The accompanying flare blinded most, yet Zeiken witnessed how the being made a crescent slash, so perfectly in sync with all the relics around it, piercing Raphael's body effortlessly and without the slightest effort swinging the sword with a second sweep, releasing it from the corpse it had just slain.
The creature was almost invisible in the glory of the light surrounding it, be it from the relics or itself. The templars couldn't move blinded and helpless in its presence. It seemed unnaturally golden as it took the crown and slid it on its head, as if it was always made for it.
A deep voice echoed the halls. “How have thee survived humans? Every plague, every attempt meant to relinquish the holy domain from your sin you escaped, and now you try to redeem his world, his throne? Praying to fake God which is only your, oh so narrow perception, of Him in all his all mighty glory? Listen thee humans! Listen thee sinners! O listen those fallen! Thee shall not stand up again!”
As if finishing casting his spell, the light changed into a burst, and the burst changed into an explosion and the explosion changed the world into a hell.
All that was holy released all it ever contained. All relics exploded like suns, devouring those who held them and more. The fire surrounded Zeiken, and before throwing him apart, ate his life.








Or so he thought when he woke up. The bright sun light forced is eyes open, and the rocky earth shoke his body awake. Next to him another wounded, but alive, Templar lied. Zeiken's insticts took hold of him, and in a blink of a moment he dashed upwards and leaped to his feet. Where the afterimage of his body still stood a gaint piece of church wall landed, crushing the other unfortunate Templar mercilessly. Hell was playing its tricks with Zeiken's eyes. All of the holy crosses that seemed like gravestones got corpses to accompany their delusion. There was no church over from the explosion, and continuously stone pieces of it were falling down, like an endless rain of meteorites. The whole area seemed to be caved in, as he was standing in a lake like crater with the earth being collapsed and broken as if a thunderstorm or earthquake had shaken the very soil up.
But that wasn't what stole his breath. The army of demons. The indestructibility army of evil was slain. All that remained where hardly recognizable corpses, deformed remains of what once where mighty creatures. With one single spell the golden being had erased an army capable of knocking on God's very own doors.
It stood in the center of the crater. Now Zeiken could take a good look of what it truly was. There was no doubt about it, this thing was identical to an angel. A perfect golden male body, naked, yet lacking any form gender distinguishing. Unnaturally silver wings with countless sharp blades as feathers. Empty eye lids and and an eternally closed mouth. In his hand a nameless sword, held only with the intent of death.
Whether it was an true angel, a forgotten mythological beast or a man mad with power, one was certain. This being was holy to the core. 'Holy', the nature of all magic contained in relics, he resonated perfectly with it, as if he himself was one. That's why the barrier wasn't blocking him, no, it was reinforcing him! In a simple whim he used all of the holy magic contained in the holy barrier to wipe out all that was 'unholy'. Now Zeiken realized why he was alive. He had put several defensive spells on his body before, but they wouldn't be capable of saving him from anything more than a fall, never capable of rescuing him of magic capable of destroying all the fiends it touched. But it was a pure anti- unholy spell. Some Templars where affected, but their deviations weren't even close to those of the demons that were slain.
Yet most of them were slain. Crushed by rock, by fall, by blade, by fate. They were mostly decaying corpses now. And it didn't stop there. The golden knight was gliding over the massacre not setting one foot on the soiled dirt, swinging his blade through survived bodies as if pulling a stick though water. One templar charged up a spell and cast it at the angel. But it simply 'flashed' in front of the mage evading the magic completely. Calling it a teleportation would be too crude. He simply appeared before the templar gracefully, and descended his sword through his skull easily.
Zeiken was certain. Every bit of his body was certain. This creature was an enemy. An enemy of his, an enemy of the church, an enemy of humanity. None would be left alive to make place for it. It was them or him. It or us. It was simple really, not a fibre in his body thought otherwise. Was it God's test? Had God forsaken them? Did God exist at all? He didn't care. He didn't think. He just knew. Humanity won't survive if he won't it stopped.
So Zeiken took his spear. How would he be able to defeat something capable of eliminating his entire race? He must. There is no question. The Templars, the most powerful mages, warriors and knights today must stop it. They are the only ones able, the only ones capable, the only ones worthy. “Forsaken by God yet fighting in His name.” He whispered. “Bound to Hell yet protecting Heaven.” “The weakest priest, the strongest knights.” “We shall protect all against His will in His name, in our Wish! Amen!”
All the Holy magic was completely drain from his relic spear. Zeiken simply replaced the source of its power, namely his own life energy. He'd die if he wouldn't do it anyway, and the Lance of Longinus enchanted itself with his very own blood. With a swift slash he opened the fight, which got gently evaded. The counter hit that was supposed to be fatal missed him by a hair, as a different Templar attacked the Angel simultaneously, and that had to be evaded as well.
“Stand to arms Templars!” Zeiken yelled. “Whether bound by faith, fear, gold or greed we outcasts of the church have but one in common with ourselves, each other, those who outcast us and those whom we protect! We will to survive, the desire to live! And we shall not fall in realizing that one simple desire! So men cursed by Raphael, despised by Gabriel and loved by Lucifer, deny that which you believed, and slay those whom you protected! Even if it's an Angel, we have but one ultimate Master we answer to! HUMANITY SHALL PREVAIL!”