1003/Odin In Mirkwood

Odin In Mirkwood
Date of Scene:	20 November 2014
Location:	Mirkwood, Middle Earth
Synopsis:	Odin decides to pay a visit to Mirkwood and others are trying to convince him to take his leave. It goes about as well has one would expect when dealing the Elder Primal...
Cast of Characters:	456, 513, 530, Eryl Fairfax, 576, 592

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Odin (576) has posed:
Mirkwood is a beautiful, yet dangerous place. Or so some may say. Those who travel in may become lost in the darkness of the forest, though beyond the forest is the open paths. The plains beyond the forest gives way to the gentle breeze. Yet in this land of magic and beauty-- a presence starts to move over the land.

Not that of Orcs and their dark lord-- but another presence entirely, alien to these lands. For in the sky a dark fog starts to form and soon it moves over the land and even over the forest. The very animals may stop their sounds. The wind comes to a dead still. For as the dark fog rolls over, soon with in the dark mist a pair of red eyes gleam brightly. The sound of hooves clump across the stone. A war horse soon emerges from the darkness born.

The rider of the war horse soon comes into view, blue-white eyes glowing brightly, but his face is elf like, the long ears, the facial feature. Yet a marking glows along the side of his lavender purple skin color. The short pony tail pulled back with his hair being a much similar shade to his skin, if not slightly darker.

Though once he fully appears, the rider comes to a halt, pulling on the reigns. Motes of blue light float in the air, though small they may be. Odin stares out over the area around him, even as the fog only slightly clears, leaving unnatural darkness in the sky. "..Could Urth be here.." He whispers softly to himself.

Even as his mighty steed clomps the ground with his hoof a few times.

"This place of war.." Odin says softly, his eyes looking about, "..it calls to me.. this place.. calls for me to fight.." His eyes then narrow. "So fight we shall..."

Soon the helment forms over his head created by the dark energy that streams over like tendrils around his face. Then forming his sword in the same manner, his steed rises up as the edge of the blade glows bright. Then with a swing of the blade, he sends out a slash that threatens to cut the very trees, even from the distance.

Garen (530) has posed:
    Garen makes his way into the forests of Mirkwood. He had been there before, but today he was tracking down a large bit of game. Carefully, he stalked through the tree's, eyes scanning around.

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
     Ever since Eryl had been inside the grand tree in Lordran, he had become a little fascinated with them. In his world, trees are gone, perhaps the occasional withered corpse lingering on. Part of his job is fertilizing the ground and helping people plant food, but little sprouts aren't big trees. They can get so, so old, so large...

     As such, he finds himself in Mirkwood. Having found a small settlement, he has a little free time he does not have to spend continuing his journey. So, he walks underneath the green canopy, a content smile on his face.

     A smile that fades when he hears the crash of trees being felled. He slowly makes his way towards the sound, spotting Odin. Original Face immediately identifies him as such, cross-referencing his appearance with Union databases. "Oh dear..."

     He emerges, holding his hands up, a warm smile on his face. "Sir! Hello there. Uh, so you know, this place is domain of an elven kingdom. You might need their permission to cut down the trees."

Finna (513) has posed:
    Finna'd heard that this place has some kind of nasty, huge spiders! Sounds like a great meal and new form to use for some purposes. She does like her Argent Weaver Arts, and has heard that Lunars who learn the ways of spiders can perform it far better. What better way than in this supposedly cursed forest?

    She's roaming it as a fox through the outskirrts, as though unwilling to travel into its depths, and this roaming has lead her to be ALMOST in the path of one clear-cutting Primal assault.

    The out-of-place white-furred fox leaps back and up onto a tree before it can fall on her, and just BARKS LOUDLY and shrilly into the forest breeze - her annoyance and frustration all in one harsh sound.

    Almost as if to say 'what the HECK WAS THAT?!'

    Soon the fox approaches Odin and his steed from the side... though stays a gooooood distance away out of immediate sword reach. Odin will probably feel the animal's gaze fixed hard on him, but Finna's not speaking first here...

Odin (576) has posed:
The Dark Divinity sits easily on his mount as the hooves slam back down on the ground, blame flames nearly igniting under those hooves sheer power. Garen thankfully goes unnoticed, but Eryl makes the fatal mistake of walking up to him.

Even with hands in the air, the dark rider points his blade down toward the man, "I care not for whom owns the land. The battle has called me forth to ride and so I ride into the very power that has given me form." The edge of the dark blade starts to glow again.

"Like the so forest you wish to /concern/ thy self over, I shalt cut you down with it!" Though for a moment Eryl is saved from's wrath as Finna barks out. He can sense her first, even before she is seen and he is looking /directly/ at her.

"..you are not a normal beast..." Odin says softly. "Glyphs of magic.. are you the one whom answers for the forest?" Though his eyes narrow dangerously. "No matter."

The dark armored elder primal pulls on the Reigns. "If you are worthy of my strength, as battle has shown, then in my defeat, shall your efforts be rewarded." The stallion he rides on, suddenly moves away from the group slightly. "Let us see what the battle has all called us here this day.. for your victory.. or for my own-- one shall stand victorious."

Then with the front rearing of the mighty war horse. The steed slams his hooves down on the ground. The very earth shakes as a massive shockwave blasts outward, threatening to knock both Finna and Eryl over.

Garen (530) has posed:
    Garen hears the commotion and decides to join in. Loading one of the magi-teck bullets he got from Gaius, he sights the Dark Divinity in his scope. Slowly he raises it until he had a lock on his head. "This should be quick and painless..." He says to himself, letting the round fly.

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
     Outwardly, Eryl's smile doesn't slip in the slightest when Odin begins his rant. Inwardly though, he is groaning. Dealing with battle-crazed maniacs is the worst. Diplomacy simply doesn't work on them, you have to use force. But, he is a diplomat, so he will try until the inevitable conclusion at which point blows must be traded.

     "Sir, if you wish to battle, there are likely many out there in the Multiverse who will happily clash steel with you. But, this place is home to many people, and trees take a long time to reach this height. Surely you could take it somewhere el-"

     His words are cut off as Odin's mount stamps it's hoof, sending out a shockwave! Eryl takes it, being launched back through the air! However, he lands safely, using the momentum to roll backwards so the landing itself doesn't hurt too much. He groans, getting back to his feet and narrowing his eyes.

     "Have it your way, Mister Odin." He points his right index finger at the mounted man, specifically the elbow of his sword hand. An opening appears at the tip, when suddenly, a small metal slug is blasted out of it, aiming to damage said sword-hand!

Finna (513) has posed:
    Finna was not expecting Odin to go hostile with just a bark from her, but the wargod is definitely good at trampling expectations. And foxes.

    Finna goes flying back through some branches and almost into a tree. But the fox clamps its jaws down over a branch, swings around and... -- in a few moments, isn't a fox anymore. Finna's standing on a TINY TWIG that cannot possibly support her weight, yet it barely shakes as she crouches down at the very end of the thin limb, frowning.

    "Pretty rowdy, Odin! Straightforward guys get my approval, but you're taking it a bit far!" He might or might not recognize her as one of the people who was there for his release - and then she was mostly puzzled by him.

    "Searching pretty far from the Shroud, aren't you? This is dozens of worlds away! ... I think..."

    That impact resulted in a nasty bruise, but she pulls out a sword from nowhere. It's a simple, unornamented, yet sleek weapon with a slighter emphasis on thrusts than slashes, but is definitely a viking-style short sword of terrific quality. Feathersteel, though that's not noticeable with a glance. The sword's light as a feather... far lighter than it looks.

    She crouches much like a tiger would and--

    FWOOOOOOOOOOSH!

    ROCKETS through the air. The illusion keeping her silvery tattoos is dispersed and now all can see the tribal markings along her flesh where it's exposed - and more of it's exposed than not, in this climate!

    With a feral grin she dives in at Odin, lands atop his mount's head and unleashes a faster-than-the-eye-can-see blitz of thrusts. Not a one's aimed for anything vital - it can't even be really called that serious, she's just...

    ...trying to prove a 'point,' perhaps.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     The ground shakes slightly with the coordinated march of an army of Silvan Elves, led by a pale figure on a large Elk. The figure holds up a hand and the army comes to a halt, clad in ornate armor, armed with spears and bows. The hand comes down and the bows are drawn, the first rows of Elves loosing their arrows toward what they perceive as the main threat. The pale haired figure on the Elk remains silent for the moment, but his ice blue eyes narrow in a manner indicating they mean business.

Odin (576) has posed:
The Elder Primal stands at ready. When Garen goes to open fire, the very sound of the mechanisms catches the attention of the dark divinity. As Garen pulls the trigger, the bullet goes flying through the air.

Odin actually swings out his sword. A blue flash escapes the very air ahead of the white edge of the dark blade, as the very Ceruleum bullets is cut right in half and the very Ceruleum vanishes in that insanity of near impact.

Then when Eryl attacks though, Odin can not sweep his blade around in time, the bullet from his weapon impact the Elder Primal's gauntlet, cutting into the armor ever so slightly.

Though Finna speaks to him, Odin simply quips back to her, "If I may roam, so shall Urth, but it is not she whom calls me here." As he speaks though a chain forms in his hand from slithering dark mist, which as it forms, he whips back he dark chain, before suddenly snapping it forward.

If Garen is not careful, he will find the dark chain reaching out for him and yanking him directly into the battlefield itself. Which in turn he swings around the dark chain to actually go to impact Eryl to knock him back.

With a one last snap of the whip, it vanishes from his hand as it came, just in time for Finna to leap upon his stead's head. As her feet touches the mane, she will find something is /very/ off about the animal. It doesn't feel as it should-- motes of energy even move around her feet.

As she goes to swing her blade, Odin seems to meet all her attacks with his one sword under what seems like one simple parry, yet multiple sparks fly from the impact. The Dark Divinity stares her down, before he shifts his sword slightly and then slashes upward with it.

As the sword swings, his rears up like a bronco to actually throw her off balance. It may even save her-- or maybe it wont!

Yet once the rear hooves touch down, the mighty war steed then start to gallop around the group. Each strike of the hoof upon the ground causing a blue spark of flame to ignite for a moment. That though is when the king of elves come-- and his soldiers. As Odin rides in a circle. His eyes stare to meet the King's own directly.

As the archer's draw back their bows, the stare is never lost in that slightest of moments. He now knows whom rules these forests-- his true querry. It is he-- the king. His army. This is what has called him here.

Odin pulls tightly on the reigns as the arrows come down, his sword sweeps across as a bright flash of blue seems to claw across the very sky, slashing apart the arrows as the come down. Though the few that do impact break through his cape and even strike the side of his war house.

Odin then roars out to the Elf King, his voice carried with ease, "Face me, Lords of these Forest! For I see now it is you whom has called me here! Defeat me and my power shalt be yours to command for that of battle!"

Once those words ring true. Odin back flips off his war horse which seems to vanish into the very shadows. The cape on his back tearing into the very darkness itself that moves around him before becoming a lance in his very hand, that which he twirls before slamming into the ground itself. "Face Me! All ye who stand before me! Show me your strength on this day!"

Garen (530) has posed:
    Garen didn't anticipate any of that. "How in the...." He started to ask, until the chain wrapped around and yanked him into combat. He landed hard, but rolled back up. "Impressive..." He says. He quickly loads in another ceruleum bullet. "Never thought anyone would cut one of my rounds apart.....lets see you repeat that though." He says, taking aim and firing.

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
     Eryl frowns slightly as his shot only scraped Odin's armour. The speed and ferocity of this entity was not at all overstated in the reports he read. In addition, the clearly magical nature of him and his mount is making Original Face buzz angrily, his head starting to ache.

     The pain distracts Eryl just long enough for that chain to hit him as it swings around. He manages to raise an arm to take the brunt of the hit, but he is again knocked tumbling by it, rolling on his side. But again, he rises back up, Original Face analyzing the situation. Odin's armour is thick, but even the thickest armour needs thin spots to allow a full range of movement.

     He runs, moving behind Odin as he bellows his challenge, pointing his finger at the back of his knee, firing another shot!

Finna (513) has posed:
    Finna finds herself gaping at Odin's stunning display of skill, although knocking her OFF BALANCE isn't happening. No matter what crazy juking Odin's mount does, her own feet are giving off a faint Essence that's keeping her from flying off. The Essence of Luna flows through her, and so she is nimble as any beast could be if not more so!

    "Yeeek!"

    IN these spans of time between blinks, she executes a backflip of tremendous velocity - but only a split second too slow. Zantetsuken traces a nasty scarlet line across her arm and part of a leg, and crimson blood drips to the ground in a splatter throughout her backflipping.

    She lands with a limp, but only for a few moments.

    "Always talking with swords instead of words! No other hobbies, warrior? Not even one?" Yeah, she just got diced up nastily. Or it looks pretty nasty.

    But Finna's just grinning ferally despite the pain. And then the girl takes a step forward into a proper stance. Her gaze scans across the approaching army and she DUCKS under all the arrows, then rises... only to unleash a piercing howl! ... foxes don't normally howl, but she knows how!

    Family canidae! They're close enough!

    Oh well, it's much rougher than a wolf howl in any case.

    Silvery flame erupts around her with wild abandon, wreathing her body in thick opaque whitish-purple Essence. The phantasmal image of a giant fox superimposes around her as her body seemingly glows from within. The Crescent Moon shines from her forehead as her whole body's wreathed in power, and the new wound almost entirely closes in seconds.

    Anyone with magical senses will have no trouble at all telling that this Lunar has just gotten serious. Very, very serious.

    She's glowing as bright as a bonfire with true moonlight, and that can't at ALL be good for anyone up against her.

    "KYaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaoooooooooowwwwwww!!!"

    Hard to say if she's running on all fours or two legs with the burning aura masking her movements, but she whips past Odin once, twice, thrice-- almost like a dancer, or perhaps a pouncing four-legged animal. She hops off of trees, and ground, and rocks, propelling herself about the confined forrest passages like a pinball gone WILD.

    And each time she passes Odin, there's another flurry of slashes!

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     Thranduil continues to lay that icy stare onto Odin as two of the golden armored guards come to hold the reins of the Elk, allowing the Elvenking to dismount with grace. Once he has cleared them, he draws his ornate sword with a metallic *shing*. He wears armor himself, his crown of sticks and berries replaced by a braided silver headband (http://bit.ly/14OC2yt).

     "What is the meaning of this? Why have you brought conflict to my lands?"

     The Elvenking's deep voice resounds through the densely packed trees of Mirkwood, his glare piercing. Raising his sword and holding it out at his side, indicating that his army should attack once again.

Odin (576) has posed:
Garen opens fire, Odin doesn't have time to cut the bullet apart this time. The Ceruleum shots slams into the shoulder armor of the Elder Primal. It explodes on contact, dark aetheric energy rips off from the impact.

Yet as the blue smoke and flames vanish, Garen will see the armor starting to repair itself by dark tendrils pulling themselves back together. The bullet from Garen was enough of a distraction for Eryl to get around and open fire at the back of Odin's knee.

The blast causes the Dark Divinity to almost cripple over, yet as he does, he turns himself around and swings the sword in the direction of Eryl. The sheer air breaks with light that threatens to cut into Eryl if he is not swift enough. Soon the same sword swing comes for Garen in turn.

Odin though quickly recovers about the time that Finna charges in with a great deal of speed. He is able to block one of the strikes in her multiple form seeming move, but one of the others gets him, while he somehow blocks another.

For a moment it almost seems like the aetheric energy within him bending to his wheel to try and keep up It is however for the final strike that Odin suddenly sweeps around and actually cleaves down at Finna's backside as she tries to get away.

Odin does not reply to Finna this time, but by her moves it does allow for the elf soldiers to get their strikes in. Their attacks cutting across his armor, but it too-- starts to rebuild once more. "Conflict has already found your lands. It has summoned me for the battle-- for I go where the battle calls.. and where Urth may rest her head."

Odin then charges his sword, the Zantetsuken, then with a twirl of his body, a white blueish wave rushes across the air to strike down several of the elven archers. He points his blade to the Elf King, "For these lands are not at peace. I can sense it in the air. It feeds my strength where the aetheric flow lacks to do so."

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
     The diplomat grimly smiles with satisfaction as Odin seems to buckle from his shot. But then the bizarre entity turns about and slashes in his direction. Original Face picks up a curiously dense wave of air moving towards him. Eryl decides to play it safe and leap to the side! But he's a little too slow, his waist getting slashed open. Again, he tumbles, bleeding a little.

     "Guh...," he groans, getting back to his feet. "I just wanted to look at the trees," he murmurs, rolling his shoulders and increasing the output of his KOAN Core to all his limbs. Right now, that group of elves are at the most risk. An entity like this likely has some form of area-of-effect attack, and they're clustered together.

     So, once again, Eryl makes a break from the area behind Odin, this time raising his right arm so that the elbow is pointing right at the centre of Odin's back. Suddenly, the sleeves of his shirt and jacket are shredded at the elbow as a larger, heavier slug than the ones from his fingers erupts from there, flying at Odin's back! As it does, it suddenly breaks apart into smaller slugs for a wider hit pattern.

Finna (513) has posed:
    "OWWWWWWWW---!!"

    The sword slamming across her is met with her attempts to parry. Somehow or another her Feathersteel weapon absorbs the impact, bending properly instead of snapping. But all that force then goes through her arm, into her body, and hurls her into a tree. SHKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!

    .. yeah.. she hits like a meteor. Still burning bright with moonfire, but grunting and groaning as she gets to her feet again.
R    Finna sighs. Such impacts awre wear-her-outers, but not yet life-threatening.

    Pushing up to her feet she gets a good look at Thranduil.... and THEN nearly panics. Yes, they're the elves.

    They're also dressed, and overall look, REMARKABLY like the Fair Folk of Creation - the Western variety, anyways. Enough to get her jumping immediately into a low-hanging branch upon realizing that.

    Yeah, it takes a few seconds for her to get her wits collected properly.

    "Ohblargh.. that didn't help at all." Grumble mutter!

    "Well, I hope they -fight- like the Raksha...." Just plain bows is not impressing her by Raksha standards. Yet, anyways.

    Stuffing her sword away, Finna instead grabs her bow from Elsewhere, nocks and draws an arrow...

    And lets it fly down at Odin!

    Or rather, it's like FIVE arrows are flying down at Odin from slightly different angles. Can he see which is the real one and which are the illusions?!

Zathlarne (456) has posed:
    Across the battlefield, pools of an inky oily liquid are sliding across the ground, under leaves, across blades of grass, and through the bushes, skittering across the branches of the trees, and dripping into a large pool somewhere to the left of Odin... ...And those with spiritual/magical senses would note that the whole substance pretty much reads as 'predatory magical creature of death (and perhaps undeath)' x1.

    After a moment the pool solidifes and a form rises from it, what appears to be a man in a furred cloak, with black clothing and completely dead black eyes. His lips curl for a moment, before in a cascade of words dripping vitriol he speaks, "You..." His head swivels to face Odin and his eyes narrow, "Taste of far more death..." His lips curl again, the only movement his body makes, "...and conflict then..." His head tracks the area and his nostrils flare in distaste, "...this sad little forest does."

    The fur mantle of Zathlare's cloak seems to shiver slightly, and he speaks slowly, "You possess a power..." His eyes narrow and he growls slightly, "...That is out of place here."

    Zathlarne stands absolutely still, for a few moments longer, regarding Odin as if trying to figure out what he is.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     Thranduil marches forward ahead of his army, indicating that he is a king not afraid to get his hands dirty, well he hopes he doesn't get them dirty, he's entirely too prissy for that. But, he draws his second sword in an indication that 'it's on now'.

     "I will give you one and one opportunity only to depart these lands before I instruct my people to open fire upon you."

     He sees the others being damaged by Odin and while he doesn't really care, he closes in to take a two armed swipe at him, his long hair and cape flowing around him.

Odin (576) has posed:
Eryl manages to slip behind Odin and opens fire. The bullets impact the metal backing, which tears up the armor. Aetheric dark wisps go into the air, but like with Garen's shot-- the armor starts to repair itself. Though at least the force did seem to stagger the Elder Primal for a moment.

Odin rumbles at Eryl's attack plans and swings himself around with great speed, the back of his gauntlet swinging around him with just ever about as equal of speed to strike Eryl along the face and perhaps knock him away entirely.

However the presence of something coming, cause Odin to pause. Those glowing eyes looking over to the distance as /something/ comes. The sheer raw power catching the attention of the Elder Primal. It was enough of a distraction for Finna's arrow to come flying in true, for though Odin saw the true arrow-- the distraction threw off his ability to react correctly.

The Arrow diving into a crack in his armor, black 'blood' seeming to find its way out from the armor itself as Odin staggers back, then rips the very arrow out before snapping it in his hand. Then with a low rumble, he creates the aerthic dark chain once more, lashing it out for Finna and whipping her to the very ground with a hard swing.

Odin then turns to face the new comer to the battlefield. A force unlike any he has ever seen, that goes beyond that of his own understanding and magical force in all but full. A magical predator even in equal, if perhaps greater then even a standard Primal. "And you have the shape of a man, but no man are you.."

Odin stares for a moment longer, "..darkness all but in form.."

Though as Thranduil comes to march outward, Odin quickly comes to turn his attention back to the original reason he was drawn here. The very elf king who seems to now show he does not fear to place his own life on the line.

As Thranduil swings down his Elven blade, the Zantansuken comes to meet it in turn with a quick swing of both arms taking hold of the hilt. Sparks fly brilliantly as the two blades impact one another. Odin staring down the man ever in equal. "You have already had them attack me, so tell me, King of your men-- what makes the matter so different in this very moment. You face me here now-- I spare thy people from my reckoning and if you shall win, then I keep to my word as I stated before."

Odin then breaks his sword away with a sliding motion against the other sword, attempting to throw the Elf king off balance and then does a quick slash in a slight downward motion.

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
     Eryl watches as the gaps he opened in Odin's armour fill themselves back in. Original Face saves that detail as Eryl muses. He can regenerate his armour, so trying to peel it off him won't really get them far. That means he should be relying on armour-piercing attacks. That means...

     But then, he takes a backfist right to the cheek! Whatever that means is knocked from his head as his feet leave the ground, his body spinning through the air before hitting the ground with a thud. "Urgh..." he groans, his jaw making worrying clicking noises as he speaks, slowly getting back to his feet.

     He stares hard at Odin as he speaks to the elven king. Thranduil his name was? Anyway, Eryl rushes at Odin, seemingly willing to engage him in good ol' fisticuffs! Stopping just behind him, he... twirls? Pirouetting on one leg, the air hisses for a moment as thin, rectangular blades emerge from his arms, the hissing coming from their high rate of vibration. In his spin, he slashes at the back of Odin's legs!

Finna (513) has posed:
    "Wu-wuaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!!"

    SUDDENLY, CHAINS. No, Finna had no way to expect that was coming. They wrap around her and yank her RIIIIGHT where she doesn't want to go. While flying at Odin, she somehow manages to whip around in the air, untangling part of the chain and whipping a flurry of throwing knives down at him...

    When she hits the ground it's one one knee, and the impact's enough to knock the wind out of her - PAINFULLY.

    But she doesn't stay there. INstead, she somehow.... flows THROUGH the chains. Her whole body just ripples like quicksilver, the flesh flowing around the aetheric chain and ripping right past it. She backflips two, three, four times and lands in a crouch with her short sword out again but...

    "Ayyyygiijijijiggiiii...!!"

    A shudder passes through her, enough to make her jumpy. Both eyes go to Zathlarne...

Zathlarne (456) has posed:
    Zathlarne makes a slow drawn out growl, a hungry noise, in answer to Odin's statement, before his face sort of splits in a hungry smile. And by splits we mean, yes, the lips pull back several inches beyond what they should, and the teeth visibly sharpen into something better placed on a shark then something humanlike. "...Yes..."

    He makes another long hungry noise, a sound that gradually deepens in timber, "...I..." He raises his left hand and flexes the fingers, gazing at them for a moment, not even blinking as Eryl goes flying back past him, and then back at Odin.

    He gazes at the Elder primal for a moment longer, as if deciding something before he strides forward bonelessly, growing in size before he towers over Odin, and his torso splits open spilling out layers of teeth, mouths dripping acid, and tendrils covered in barbs and with a fluid series of motions, grabs for Odin's sword arm, attempting to thrust it aside before the rest of him tries to engulf the upper half of Odin with his newly formed maws.

    Not a farther word is said through this entire process.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     Thranduil grunts quietly as the sword catches him, but ignores the pain and moves swiftly and gracefully to push himself forward with one foot and holds his swords close to him, then sweeps his arms out in an unfurling X.

     "You will not defile my lands further with your evil. I will drive you away myself if I must!" His expression turns to one of fury, baring his teeth as he attacks. The Elven Army behind him cocks their arrows, prepared to unleash another torrent, but this time the tips of the arrows have been doused in flammable liquid that will ignite when unfurled.

Odin (576) has posed:
Though if Odin was a normal man, what Eryl was planning should work. Yet Odin is no normal man and one may even argue if he is a man at all. So when Eryl comes in to try and slash Odin's leg open with a good, swift kick.

Eryl will find his ankle being gripped suddenly Odin who moves at lightning speed around and then goes to actually throw the poor cyborg into some of those tree he is was /dying/ to see. Though such an action, though quick, does give Finna the opening she requires.

The knives slash across his armored form of Odin. The blades cutting through as dark aetheric energy escapes from the very cuts, but yet as it seems, Odin continues to endure. Even as the cuts cause him to rumble in annoyance.

When the King of Elves though comes to strike out, "Evil?" Odin questions back, blocking one strike, but being caught by the other. The cut causing aetheric energy to release, though heal it still does. "I fear you are confused at whom you call evil."

Now Zathlarne on the other hand-- there is some freakin' evil right there!

Odin goes to break away and strike down for the Elf King, only for his sword arm to be struck away. Then for the massive beast of darkness attempt to devour the Dark Divinity-- which seems ever successful for a moment. Yet suddenly as those teeth bite down, aetheric energy escape out. Odin's claw hand digs into the beasts maw as he roars out.

Then Zathlarne will find his maw snapping down soon on nothing as Odin goes into a dark myst form and then reforms near the lance, using it to hold himself up right for a moment. His very armor streaming with dark tendrils as it works to rapidly repair itself. Pulling from his own aetheric energy from within. "...nrrh.."

"..Hehe..." Odin lets out a soft chuckle, before he then slams his blade into the very ground. Then right under Zathlarne the ground glows in a dark circle, before a crystal blade blasts upward from under him-- it-- attempting to encase the beast and then shatter with explosive force.

Finna (513) has posed:
    "Ooooooooodin! Truce? Something NASTY must've been following your scent all the way here!" Finna calls out, a hand cupped next to her mouth. It's not like she's really got any hostility for him anyways. She's just been playing. Although... it just now got Actually Serious.

    Odin, she feels, she could break away from in a hurry and he wouldn't pursue. This new person...

    No, maybe she'd be better off just leaving this fight completely. Maybe she will if it gets much worse. For now though...

    For now she gets out her bow again, draws SEVERAL arrows back on the string, takes aim at Zathlarne...

    With a strange, shimmery noise, moonlight screams down the arrows the instant they're unleashed.

    And they all fly WEIRDLY, bouncing off trees and rocks in zigzaggy motions all aimed at overwhelming Zathlarne's defense. Because the four arrows all come from different directions when they fly in at him!

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
     Eryl is confused. One instant, he is twirling, trying to slash at Odin, bring him down. Next, he is tumbling through the air. Before this can really register, he slams hard against the trunk of a tree! Thankfully, he had gone kind of limp from surprise, so he's not out yet, rolling when he hits the ground.

     "Rrrgh... right, that is it." He stands up straight, KOAN Core diverting a lot of power into his right leg. He starts to move, getting into a position where, if his shot misses Odin, he won't hit anything beyond him.

     He stamps his left foot down as he raises his right leg, his heel pointed right at Odin. Suddenly, his socks and shoe are obliterated, a large slug flying from his heel, the air around it igniting as it flies towards the armoured entity. Whatever it hits, be it Odin or something behind him, it will do so with crushing force... before exploding!

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     Thranduil has had enough of this. He's about ready to tell his army to fire upon everyone just to get outsiders out of his forest. He trips over his cape as he makes his attack, lessening its ferocity. He does, however, raise his sword into the air and shouts something in Elvish that apparently means for them to fire whether he's in the way or not. THere is the single sound of dozens of arrows being fired simultaneously, the army moving with the coordination and grace one would expect of Elves. Thranduil himself backs up when what they would perceive as darkness begins to appear.

Zathlarne (456) has posed:
    Gnashing teeth and maws close on Odin for a moment before... ...The Elder Primal vanishes, leaving absolutely nothing in the way of Zathlarne and his own appetite. "..." His head tilts and he turns to gaze at Odin, before his body closes up on itself again, "It..." His voice is gravelly, dry as he draws out the words slowly, "...Would have been Dissapointing..." His body folds in on itself seamlessly as he continues, "...If you had been... ...So easily consumed."

    He slides forward again with boneless grace before ... his own form is stabbed, and then encased within a giant crystal blade that explodes -- Leaving visible wounds across his body.

    Wounds that slide closed, even as he continues moving towards the Elder Primal. It's a process that's interupted when four wildly ricocheting arrows come spinning and skipping off of everything in sight to ebed themselves in his body. He growls out his next words as Finna's arrows are drawn into his body and dissolve, "...Pointless prey creature..." His lips twitch in irritation, before he turns back to Odin and hisses, before raising his hands, and sending a giant black nimbus of entropic and spirtual decay blasting out at Odin.

Odin (576) has posed:
Odin takes that moment Finna gives him, to gather himself. He can feel his own humanity trying to slip away. It was a moment to try and keep this from happening. To remain in some sense of control and not fall into some-- inhuman state.

Odin doesn't have a chance to respond to Finna however, because as he goes to even think about it. Eryl's attack slams into him and attempts to crush him. The sheer force wraps around him and Odin yells out in a near pain. When it explodes around him, he almost goes down on his knee.

Dark smoke rising from his form, aetheric energy influx around him as it tries to recover. Odin then slowly goes to stand back up. "..Fool.." he says with simple ease. "..mortal .. fool.."

"I am Odin.. I am the Dark Divinity!" He then goes reach foes his very lance. The dark chain wraps around it and then with a hard swing around he swings the very Lance to knock Eryl right over. Sadly in the arch swing, it also goes for Finna as well, before Odin can pull it back in.

Yet as he takes hold of his lance in hand once more. He almost look apologetic to Finna, though given one can not see his face-- perhaps such is hinted by the dim light in his eyes. But this too-- came to a close.

As fire arrows soon rained from the heavens and washed over Odin in fire. The flames engulfed around Odin and in the fire, one can see the dark aetheric energy rise, but not as smoke or wisps, but as tendrils of darkness. The flames shows what seem to be like a man behind the fire, but the form was becoming twisted within the dancing of the flames and then a primordial roar erupted from the flames as Zathlarne decides to add his own poison in the mix.

One could almost see Odin get down on his knee, before a low growl can be heard, even if the flames two burning white eyes sheen out from the flames, before another roar erupts out and then something /moves/ at near lightning speed. The very flames break out from their red colors, to blue in color in the trail left behind.

There Odin rests against a tree seeming to defy all gravity in that moment. His form twisted by the aetheric energy, though one can see the shape of the knight, the dark tendrils cast him in an heavily unholy light.

Odin then leaps off and the sheer shockwave of his leap shakes the very forest and possible may even knock any dead branches or loose rocks right at the Elf King and his men. Odin lands on the ground, his form almost taking on a mist like appearance, before he goes directly for Zathlarne and attempts to jam his sword right into the 'beast's' skull.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     Thranduil had begun chanting what could be considered a rather dark spell, his stark blue eyes staring at Odin unblinking. The trees start to move, their branches curling around to lean in and grab Odin, but he is interrupted by the shockwave which throws him down rather hard into the jagged rocks and piercing thorns. He emits a sharp cry, gritting his teeth as he tries to pull himself together and rise to his feet. "You have been bested. Leave this forest and never return lest you be faced with an army of over thirty thousand."

Finna (513) has posed:
    "W-wuah!" Finna's not sure if that swing was intentional, but she has a good opportunity to dodge! This time she's ready for a chain attack and smartly ducks below it- somehow. yes, somehow. It grazes her arm with a stinging impact, nothing more than a bruise, and SOMEHOW she's bent over backwards as though her whole body was impossibly stretchable.

    With movements swift enough to make the air whistle she flips out of that position and lands near the Elvenking.

    As she is right now, she's a humanoid, vaguely female figure of burning silvery light with the crescent moon on her forehead, surrounded by a heatless bonfire of moonlight and shadow. Probably one of the weirder things anyone here's seen - until Zathlarne showed up, anyways.

    "Whew! If you can't tell the situation's changed, warrior, then at least leave the swordsman alone. That horror who dropped in is a far WORSE threat, we should stop it first!"

    And seriously, it devoured her arrows. That was ludicrous. She's never seen anything like it, and that is exactly why she won't use her best tricks right here and now.

    The Claws of the Silver Moon are incomparable when stacked against an arrow. But she'd rather not lose an arm. She needs to watch this enemy more.

    She flips up and off the ground, taking shelter in the trees and putting one between her and the blast - and thus avoids the shockwave. From up there, she flicks a handful of throwing knives down at Zathlarne - time to see what hurts him and what doesn't!

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
     This was the first time in over 60 years that Eryl has had to deploy his 'Golden Wind.' Privately, he is relieved that it is still functioning as intended. Although, it says a lot about Odin that he took the impact and the explosion and is still standing.

     "If it is foolish to stand up to brutish invaders like you, then I will wear the title of 'fool' with pride. Be they warlords, kings, even 'Dark Divinities' like you, I will reason with anyone. And if they do not listen to reason, I will answer their malice with violence."

     But then, chains! Once again, Eryl manages to raise an arm to block it, but his exhaustion knocks him tumbling again. But this time, he does not complain, simply rises up once more. Only to see Odin get serious.

     Eryl doesn't scare easy. He has been conditioned to stare danger in the face, and his implants allow him to regulate both psychological and physiological fear responses. But, as he stares at the infuriated Odin, the shimmering, mistlike form... he feels a heavy weight in his gut, his original skin breaking out in goosebumps.

     The elf king orders Odin to stand down. But, Eryl has seen Odin's type before. While Odin's rage is a little more impressive than most, it's all the same deep down. His power has been challenged, and is being met. Now he is in a state where he would rather die than stand down. But then he glances at Finna, hears her words. This new arrival is the larger threat? This gives him a moment's pause. This entity, though strange, has only focussed on Odin. Odin has been attacking everyone, aiming to destroy this place. That makes him a bigger threat in Eryl's book. And if Zathlarne does prove to be dangerous? Well, Eryl will just stop him too.

     He can do that, after all. He can do anything.

     Again, he pivots on his now-bare right foot, his KOAN Core diverting power into his left leg. He kicks at nothing, the shoes and socks on that foot getting torn apart now, another explosive slug getting fired at Odin!

Zathlarne (456) has posed:
    Zathlarne starts to roll forward again, before he's stopped rather brutally by Odin crashing down from on High and pinning his skull to the forest floor with his giant two handed sword...

    Unfortionately for Odin, despite the fact that it looks impressive, and very definitely smashes Zathlarne into the ground---Zathlarne just yanks his head backwards, spitting it right down the middle before he flows upward and his body just splits open into teeth, and maws and tendrils, and teeth and other things that just drip acid and speak of decay, before once again the Horror tries to simply engulf the Elder Primal and begin chewing, injecting, and ingesting. This time however, the moment he starts to close around Odin, there's a dark glow about his various appendages that's there to enhance the decay of the physical, and sort of tenderize the creature he's trying to devour.

    Zathlarne hisses, as his body attempts to close around Odin, pausing only for a moment as his body sprouts a group of daggers, which causes half of his head to swivel in Finna's direction, "Stupid Prey Creature!" A dead black orb glares at Finna for a moment before his torso pulses, interupting ... whatever else is going on down there, to return gifted daggers ... by basically spitting them at her. "I..." He snarls, "Will tolerate..." Half of his face twiches, "...inferference no longer!"

Odin (576) has posed:
Thranduil says his peace, but Odin ignores or perhaps in such a state, words are not exactly on his mind-- but simply removing the larger threat and any threat there in. These threats turn to be for now Zathlarne and Eryl.

Zathlarne goes to chomp down on Odin and successed! The darkness beast is able to seeming devour the Elder Primal and perhaps for many-- it be the last of Odin. Well, that is until a bright light of hot blue may be visible as Odin accesses his swords very ability to cut /anything/.

With the very slash he attempts to not only break free, but cut a large gash through Zathlarne. Though the getting out is not pretty as he lands hard onto the ground into a roll. The lance that was impaled once more in the ground is seemingly starting to melt away as Odin's own aetheric energy is starting to fall low.

As Odin goes to stand, that is when Eryl's attack strikes true. The massive explosion engulfs Odin and rockets him back into the forest slightly and through a few trees. However the Elder Primal does not stay down long and rushes right back out. With a slam of his sword against the ground he roars out in defiance to everything before him. "Ye shall all come to know the power of Zantansuken!"

As the blade does strike the ground, waves of energy rush outward, exploding around the area link slashes upon the very air itself cleaving across the ground.

As Odin goes to stand, he voice rumbles lowly. "For I shall cleave all from existence..." As he speaks those words, the edges of his sword glow-- before the whole blade itself is starts to glow brightly. Charging up for-- something.

An Aetheric flied also starts to form around him, shifting around his already corrupted dark form. The ground under his feet seems to even shift, the rocks almost floating just ever so slightly off the ground...

Finna (513) has posed:
    "You hothead!" Finna roars down at Odin, feeling something terrible and ominous from his raised weapon. Whatever it is, that ominous feeling distracts her for the brief moment she needed to deal with the returned daggers.

    Though she gasps in surprise, Finna does react. Several daggers are simply SNAGGED OUT OF THE AIR between her fingers - six of the nine, in fact! But the last three hit her, and it compared with Zantetsuken breaks her concentration. She tumbles, falls, lands gut-first into a bigger branch and topples to the ground in a groaning heap.

    This is it, honestly. Make or break. Because really, now looks like the best and last chance she's gonna get to run like hell. And nobody here is better at running than her, of THAT she's sure.

    But that isn't what she does. Instead she stands up, sucking down terrified breaths, and raises a hand full of glowing claws. These five digits shine with a formidable power all their own, moonlight swirling around them in preparation for something...

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
     Well, that's both Golden Winds still functioning as intended! Eryl can't help but take a little pride as he watched Odin fly back, pride that is quashed by guilt as he crashes through trees. Here his is, trying to save them and he just knocked down more. "Dammit..."

     In that brief instant of self-pitying, Odin's attack bears down on him. Reacting on instinct, he falls backward to try and avoid it, but it still slashes across his chest, severing his tie and cutting a bloody gash in him. He hits the ground with a grunt, his implants already trying to stem the bleeding, but his white shirt is shining red already.

     At his slowest speed yet, he gets back on his feet, staring daggers at Odin. While not magically sensitive, he can tell that whatever Odin is preparing is Bad News (tm). Since it all seems to be concentrated to the sword, perhaps if it was knocked from his hands, it would stop? Unfortunately, he is all out of Golden Wind rounds. "Time to replace power with numbers."

     He raises his arms in a boxer's stance, his elbows pointing at Odin. The sleeves on his left arm are ravaged to match the right as he goes full auto with both Flowering Hedges, firing seven slugs that break apart in flight, barraging Odin!

Zathlarne (456) has posed:
    The two halves of Zathlarne's head drift slowly across his body, and begin to merge right before there's a sort of a glow somewhere under his flesh, and unfortionately for Zathlarne, said glow is followed by a blast of energy and a sword exploding out of his back, and ripping him in half...

    Which leaves the two halves of him sort of flickering and floating around for a few moments before the whole of him collapses to the ground, and dissolves into the kind of massive black, oily protoplasmic puddle that he emerged from before ... and then tendrils being to rise from the puddle and point themselves at Odin, and maws begin to form at the end, several of them lunge at the Elder primal, attempting to burry themselves in his etheric flesh, while a few other sort of float around aimlessly, obviously injured and not quite acting properly ... the others however, open their mouths and spew necrotic biles, acids, flames, clouds of toxins, and flesheating parasites at the Primal that's standing in the middle of his ... puddle.

    Finna for the moment, is ignored, because she's no longer interfering.

Odin (576) has posed:
Finna prepares herself for the worst...

When Eryl attacks though, he will find his slugs impact that Aetheric 'wall'. Exploding around it, as motes of energy dissipate from the barrage against it. Even as Zathlarne goes to try and find away to eat away at Odin, the barrier plays against him hunger plans.

The ground around Odin can be seen starting to spark and crackle with electricity as Odin continues to pull on what aetheric energy he can gain from this world, what little there may be, channeling it all into the sword itself and even part of his own energy as well. "This Obsidian blade shalt atwain thy own futures-- into.. Oblivion!"

Odin roars out at last, the shield shatters which may knock back Zathlarne whom was chewing away at it, and Odin suddenly teleports back, aiming all whom has come before in his very path. Odin places the blade in front of him as it glows brightly, the very blade seeming to extend out almost into the skies itself.

Then with a roar of a battlecry, he swings the blade in a large arch. The sheer energy of the blade whips through the air. The very end of the blade can be seen coming around wide. Everything in its wake being cleaved through on several planes of existence. Either to be cleaved in half, sheered away from existence, or wither away. The blade soon finds its way to those who have been battling Odin.

For like the Environment around him, it comes to cleave all in the path on all existence and what does survive, such as some of the trees, scars have been scorched into their bark to tell the story of the Elder Primal's power.

The very power-- that caused Urth to seal him away for thousands of years. The very power-- that can destroy his own kin...

        Zantetsuken

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
     Eryl's eyes widen.

     He had the sense ever since joining the Multiversal community that he was no longer the unstoppable force that he had been before. But now, he is forced to look that ugly truth right in the face. Original Face screams in his head as he catches glimpses of other realities, as this attack seems to cause fission to occur in its wake.

     And then it is upon him, He starts to fall back, but Original Face tells him that he is falling too slow. So, he raises his arms, in the hopes that they might slow or deflect Zantetsuken just enough to spare him. The shame of it all crashes through him as he watches it glide through his near-indestructible arms like they weren't even there. But it's just enough, the blade passing right before his face, rather than carving it off.

     He hits the ground, his arms severed just below the elbow, falling to the side. His injuries finally catch up with him, his implants forcing him to pass out so that he does not exert himself further.

Finna (513) has posed:
    Oh dear god.

    Yeah, Finna. SHOULDA RUN, really!

    "Hyeeiiiiiiiik!!!"

    With a panicked scream, she makes her own move. Her life probably depends upon it. "...Hyaaaah!"

    Her claws come down, trailing a spectacular flash of silvery light. It pales in brightness and volume compared to Zantetsuken, but its purity easily matches matches that of oblivion's finest blade. Her Moonsilver Tattoos also shine brightly, becoming incredibly more visible and flaring with Essence. They're fending off some of Zantetsuken's stranger effects - for nothing may shape a Lunar's body but their own will. She cannot be conceptually cleaved.

    PHYSICALLY? Now that's another story.

    The white strike slams into her parrying claws. For one brief instant there's a flash of silver light bright enough to blind when combined with the white slash.

    The dirt behind Finna's pulverized and stripped away as the blade is wildly deflected and redirected into a wide arc around her. If Zantetsuken is a tidal wave, then for this brief instant Finna is a mountain. The water strikes but flows around it harmlessly! Aether and Essence sizzle and crack at the point of contact and explode into a spectacular and explosively loud lightshow as an Unstoppable Force meets an Immovable Object.

    Immovable, it would seem, were Finna a few centuries older and far more experienced in combat.

    Through the blinding light, the girl's catapulted into the woods, slams THROUGH a tree that's already coming crashing down in an explosion of wood and bark splinters and slams into another one, leaving behind a bloodied stump of the limb she used to parry. Bloodied and sliced vertically down the arm's length into two, for that matter...

    Someone might have to go looking for her. It's questionable whether she survived that...

Zathlarne (456) has posed:
    Zantansuken. It's probably the first thing that's seriously injured Zathlarne in ... centuries.

    Which is to say every tendril, every maw, everything that was sticking up out of his puddle form ... was litterally vaporized, or several of the parts of the puddle that were launched halfway across the forest, through parts of the treets, and into a certain group of Misty Mountains so far away.

    But let's not talk about those parts. Lets talk about the interesting parts.

    The parts that are slowly rising into a human form behind Odin, a human form that's covered in wounds that are slowly pulsing out black oily liquid. "...Irritating creature..." His words have an incredible amount of hatred behind them, "...To devour you now..." Dead, solid black eyes stare at the Elder Primal for a moment, hungrily, before he rises into the air, taking on the form of giant winged creature that could be described as some sort of a cross between a dragon, an insect, and a greater wyrm. "...Would be impossible..." His eyes slide to Finna, before he snarls softly, "...You have cost me the greater prey... ...Pathetic Morsel... Later... You will pay."

Odin (576) has posed:
Odin's blade slowly stops glowing as he holds it. His eyes dim in light as the aetheric energy around him starts to soften and still. The armor showing the marks of battle, as wisps of aetheric energy slowly float away from his form.

He does look at Zathlarne as the dark beast speaks to him, watching him change shape and take his leave, "..not as bad... as Bahamut..." Odin muses in a tired state, almost falling down to his knee upon the battlefield he is has created. Nearly defeated-- almost depleted of his aetheric power. "..but troubling.."

The aetheric plane calls to him. To rest-- to recover.. but there was a task he needs to do first. A return for something done for him. A gesture not of a Primal, but what remains of that lingering humanity. Fighting to hold on.

As Odin forces himself to stand tall and he starts to walk slowly. The sword fades from his hand as he seems to drop the blade and nearly falls back over, yet he pushes on into the forest. The helm slowly vanishing away as he does until he at last finds Finna's battered form.

He picks her up into his arms and then starts to walk with her, heading back to where Eryl lays unconscious. Once he arrives there, his form is starting to slowly flicker out of existence. Odin resting her down gently beside the other, before he goes to step back and as he does-- his entire form seems to wink out of existence into aetheric motes of energy, which fade away into the very sky.

Eryl Fairfax has posed:
     Soon after Odin fades away, the leaves of the trees are blown about, the grass flattened as a transport touches down. The ramp opens, paramedics rushing over to the unconscious Union allies, lifting them on to stretchers and pushing them on board. Eryl's arms are picked up and brought along too.