Log:A Hell of a Weapon

2020/04/05 	 Ghostfist Grimm Dialydd The Gentleman

1

Both Grimm and Ghostfist received letters, ones left in their mailboxes by unknown hands, writting in neat calligraphy, detailing that they can see the weapon the Gentleman offers at the cemertery off 22B Baker Street at midnight tonight.

Grimm arrives prior to the appointed time by about ten minutes to scan the area for safety. She doesn't trust anything these days and wants to make sure she doesn't get ambushed.

Unfortunately, Grimm gets ambushed.

"You're late," opines Ghostfist as she emerges from the shadows behind Grimm where she's been waiting for an hour.

Grimm hisses out a sigh at Ghostfist's comment. "Sorry, it took me a while to sneak away."

Ghostfist offers a dry snort. She lightly grips Grimm's shoulder with one hand and quietly adds, "Glad you could get here."

"Of course," Gabrielle says. "Anything to have some insurance against all of this crazy shick. But I had to sneak away without ...someone knowing. They wouldn't approve, probably."

Ghostfist doesn't reply, save to squeeze Grimm's shoulder. She disengages a moment later, moving quietly deeper into the cemetary. Frankie shifts her gaze around, studying her surroundings intently as she goes.

"I imagine you wouldn't, either. I had to make a deal with Morbane Lereau," Gabrielle confesses to her old mentor, keeping her voice to a whisper as her shadow sight canvases the area.

Nearer to midnight, the two of you hear a vehicle stop up near the entrance. After a moment, a familiar voice carries on the wind, "Thank you, but I shall safe...I think. I thank you for your concern." It's Dialydd's voice. You both can make out him heading in your general direction. The alien youth doesn't carry any light source but seems to navigate the darkness with ease.

Ghostfist lifts a hand, holding the palm out toward Grimm.

"You make deals when you need to make deals. Just don't take a bad deal because you don't think you have a choice."

After exploring for a while, Ghostfist turns her head to look at the arriving Dialydd. She quirks an eyebrow and moves back in his direction, arms folded across her chest.

Grimm holds her breath as Ghostfist silences her with the hand. She lets Ghostfist lead, following behind her.

Dialydd raises a hand in greeting when he spots to the two of you. Once he is closer, he bows, Jerin style (at the waist shallowly, hands held palm out at his sides and towards you). Or a modified one as he carries what seems to be picnic hamper in his right hand.

"Fair winds, sera Grimm, sera Ghostfist." He smiles gently. "It is good to see the two of you again. Especially you, sera Ghostfist. It has been some time."

"It has been too long," replies Frankie to Dialydd. She bows back to him and smiles thoughtfully while her gaze fixes on that picnic basket. Tilting her head curiously for a few moments, Frankie shifts her gaze back to Dialydd's face. "Have you been well, Dialydd?"

Grimm merely waves to Dialydd. "I had no idea you two knew each other already," Gabrielle says. Though didn't they just...? Wait, was that a dream? It was so vivid.

"Someone has been meddling with my dreams, sera, but otherwise, yes, I am quite healthy." He hefts the picnic hamper. "I brought the refreshments as requested although I do wonder why you all wanted the meat rare."

He glances from one of you to the other. "Or is that for whomever interfered with my dreams?"

"I think that's for your dream meddler," replies Frankie. She sighs softly and shakes her head a little bit. "I prefer my meat medium rare."

"It is good thing I brought more cooked meat as well then, sera Ghostfist," Dialydd murmurs gently.

His attention then turns to Grimm. "And yes, I met sera Ghostfist in a dream, cha, a nightmare in which I had been trapped by a Destroyer-corrupted dream spirit. She cut me free from a cocoon it wove."

Grimm stares at Dialydd a moment. "We...didn't ask for that. Who interfered with your dreams? What did you dream of?" She also looks surprised at the reveal of how they met. "Oh. Really? I'm surprised Ghostfist never mentioned that," she says, turning her gaze to Frankie.

"What? Like I gotta tell you everything, Gabrielle?" inquires Ghostfist. She snorts derisively at Grimm, arms folded across her chest while she stands overwatch over this little meeting.

Grimm smirks. "Well, when you meet a cute guy, maybe," she retorts under her breath.

"If I told you about every guy I met in my dreams, we'd never get anything done," replies Ghostfist.

Grimm leans in. "I said -cute- guy. Deranged killer monster men don't count."

Dialydd is about to speak when those with the proper senses feel a, well, Gate to Hell open deeper in the cemetery. This is almost immediately followed by a horrific howling sound that sounds neither animal nor human but some inhuman mix of the two. There are more than one howlers.

As the howls get closer those who can feel the Gate snapped closed. At the same moment, Dialydd says, "I am hazarding this is not mormal for a human place of the dead?" in a dry tone.

Ghostfist rolls her eyes at Grimm. She looks toward Dialydd while she feels magical power swelling in the background, following by that awful sound from the depths of Hell. With a shudder of revulsion, Ghostfist draws Monsterbane from its sheath under her long coat. Moving quickly, Ghostfist spins to a defensive position around Dialydd.

"No. Seems like kind of a trap to me," growls Frankie.

A black aura surrounds Gabrielle as she hears those howls. "No, Dialydd, it...who am I kidding? This is Colonial Bay. It totally is," she complains and gets ready for a fight.

A golden-silver haze glides over Dialydd from the gauntlet on his lower left arm. "So, not human? No restraint in defense or offense on our part then?" He seems remarkably calm. Or maybe he just doens't realize the danger.

And into the area the three of you stand fly in three demons, tehir preseence announced by the foul wind they bring with them. Each of them is uniquely grotesque in it's own way, but one unifying feature is the barbed wire that wraps around each of them in a different pattern, piercing thei own skin so that rivulets of dark stinking blood drip from them. Each seems contorted with hunger and pain. And each of them looks at you as if you are naught but tasty tasty snacks.

Gabrielle and Ghostfist realize...Lesser Demons are the lieutenants of Hell the chief servants of Greater Demons, the commanders of detachments of weaker demons, and the operatives often first sent to the World of Man to investigate strange goings-on. These by the barbed wire wrapped around them are servants of the Demon Lord of Torment, Cenobia. Don't let then touch you, their tocuh brings draining pain.

Grimm stares as the hellhound looking creatures appears. "What the hell are -they- here for?" She warns Frankie and Dialydd, "Don't let them touch you. They can cause draining pain with a touch."

Grimm shoots a glare at one of the demon dogs and tries to control it by convincing it that it needs to defeat his fellow hellhounds so it can have this meal all to itself.

It seems that the lesser torment demon has some rudimentary mental defenses, but your will overpowers it's with no difficulty. And yes, it seems quite happy to turn on its fellows then to consume you all.

"I hate Colonial Bay," grumbles Ghostfist, "Even the lesser demons that come here are miserable to fight in hand-to-hand."

Ghostfist looks at the demons swarming in their direction while she spins Monsterbane in hand. With an indignant snarl, Ghostfist sheathes Monsterbane again while her eyes flash a pale blue. Magic rolls across her body, forming into armor that forms over her clothes and long coat. Leather armor spiked with long, sleek quills at her joints. A helm with a vaguely porcupine-like shape to it covers the upper half of her face, waves of quills erupting from atop her head to sweep down her back.

Properly arrayed in her totemic armor, Ghostfist unleashes a tremendous roar as she tries to intimidate the demons arrayed before her. After the roar, Ghostfist simply cracks a ferocious, Predatory Smile.

The demons seem unimpressed by the roar but it does attract their attention.

The demons surge into attack, one heading for each of you. Then at the last moment, one of the torment demons attacks the one going after Dialydd. This leaves just the one on Ghsotfist unoccupied.

"Good move," calls Ghostfist to Grimm. She spins to the side as the demon comes charging toward her, sending the train of her long coat whirling up into the air. It works well enough as a matador's cape, giving the demon somewhere to attack without actually snapping those fearsome jaws down onto Ghostfist's body or soul.

The other two demons claw and bite at each other, as they tussle in the air. The attacks drive the apart in the end. The one that treacherously attacked the other is clawed up a bit, more dark blood stinkoing and bubbling in the air, but seems to have gotten off better than the one that was going to attack Dialydd who howls in pain at the gouging claw marks in it's bristly hide.

From a purely physical point of view, Dialydd just seems to be observing the battle. To mystical (and mental) senses, a spiritual Dialydd lifts his hand to his mouth then blows silvery sand from his hands at the torment demon who attacked him. The dust lazily yet instantly swirld out at the demon, but fails to connect with it. "Cha, I really must practice more," murmurs the alien Adonis softly enought that likely only Ghostfist hears it.

Grimm focuses on the one that she previously controlled. Maybe she can put it down while its betrayed comrade keeps attacking.

The torment demon reels from the attack on its mind. It is a creature of pure evil whose aura extends even into it own mind.

Ghostfist finishes her whirling around and growls in frustration. Her hand lashes out, links of pale blue light forming a chain that she tries to wrap around the demon's neck. Frankie twists again, her fingers curling over the phantasmal chainlinks as she tightens it, attempting to choke and simultaneously viciously snap the Hellbeast's neck.

The chain chokes the demon a bit but it snarls out, "Your mother choked harder!"

Each of you gets attacked by one of the demons. It seems they've all remembered their job here...whatever that is.

The torment demon instead of biting or clawing at you, just hits you hard with its shouler. Which causes of shock of pain to run down your limbs as if they;re being flayed as it tries to maintain contact.

The demon whose neck is wrapped in Ghsotfist's chain, turns and bursts into flame as it tries to bite the monster hunter.

It retracts it's claws and starts to choke you with its foul slick paws as the fire around it's body burns you.

Grimm is hit harder than expected by the attack. She cries out, feeling weekend by the assault.

The final demon who is attacking Dialydd apparently underestimates the agility of the alien. Dialydd gracefully steps to one side which results in the torment demon's bite closing on empty air.

Ghostfist snarls in fury as the demon's chompers come down on her shoulder. She tightens her grip on her Spirit Chain, eyes closing against the flaring heat of the now flaming demon. A long, low sound comes from Ghostfist as the hellfire starts to score her flesh in spite of the layers of protection she's wearing.

Once again, those with the proper senses can see the spiritual Dialydd try to engulf the torment demon is spray of silver sand. And once again, it fails to conect. "Lords weep, cha time to change tactics," he murmurs in irritation.

Ghostfist rolls her shoulders and breathes as she dances back a few steps again. The huntress wrenches her chain as she tries to wrench the demon off of its feet and onto the ground, choking it in the process.

The demon chokes a bit more on the chain and is forced to the ground, but it doesn't seem greatly harmed. A wheezing laugh comes from it.

On a purely physical plane, Dialydd is still dodging out of the way of the demon. From a mystical sense, Dialydd brings what looks like a very complicated mandala or maybe a cat's cardle into existence between his hands then releases it at the demon. It's some sort of mental illusion, a dream of some sort. This time, it engulfs the torment demon.

The demon on Grimm decides that now is a fine time to bite and claw her. It seems quite pleased at how weakened by the pain Grimm seems.

The claws and bites ALMOST puncture through her shadowy aura, but it's not enough. Grimm grits her teeth in pain as she tries to fend off the beast.

The torment demon says, "I'll drag you home and make you my new chewtoy!" as it slams itself into Ghostfist. Everyhere it touches feels like your skin's flensed off the bones.

The d-torment demon that Dialydd avoided and then hit with the dream, turns around in a large circle. "WHERE DID IT GO?" it howls out in anger.

Ghostfist snarls in frustration as the demon slams into her again and again. The pain is tolerable for the moment, but the aches that linger afterward are even more frustrating than her inability to dodge the demon. At which point a realization pops into her brain and Ghostfist roars her fury.

Grimm holds her hand out towards the demon trying to chew on her, wanting it to get the hell away from her. A black portal opens up opposite a large tree, lining up the demon with it as a black tendril snaps out to flick the demon hound away.

While the hit from the tentavle doesn't seem to do much damage, the fact that it yeets the torment demon far, far away is a very nice thing.

Suddenly, those with the proper senses can feel another Gate open. This one, while demonic is origin, does not orginate from Hell, oddly enough.

Ghostfist finishes her roaring and turns her attention back to the demon that's been shouldering her and ravaging her skin in spite of her armor. Snarling, Frankie snaps the chain tight again before she executes a roundhouse kick that intentionally misses the demon. Instead, Ghostfist performs a scissor kick that drops her leg toward its head, attempting to mangle the Hell beast in her fury.

The demon chokes a bit once again then says in a mocking tone, "Is this some sort of foreplay? If so...meh..."

The alien youth tries once again to trap the demon attacking Ghsotfist. But while he makes one, it fails to connnect with the torment demon. The alien Adonis sighs softly.

The torment demon that had been attacking Dialydd gives one last look around then runs full speed at Grimm, bursting into flames as it brushes by her.

It apparently misjudged and while the hellfire screams to connect, it fails to do so.,

Grimm slides out of the way to avoid the torment demon's charge.

The torment demon you have your legs wrapped around the neck of gazes at you. "A previed of your afterlife, human!" Pain lances down the gaze into Frankie's brain

Ghostfist screams in agony, staggering awkwardly backward while her free hand clutches at her forehead.

All of you can see the torment demon that Grimm flicked away flying back at full speed, it's body aflame with hellfire. This makes it a bit easier to spot the black clad figure that runs, leaps atop a tombstone, then bounces off a tree limb to slice a sword dark as night into the demon's neck. The demon bleeds from the attack and more important is slapped down to the gournd by the force of the blow. The figure folows it down, breaking its fall with a sword carving a line down a tree. They are about 10m away.

"You're on my list now," snarls Ghostfist as she pulls Monsterbane out of its sheath again. She spins the blade once in hand before she torques her body around and attempts to drive her blade into the demon's skull.

The torment demon screams in pain as Monsterbane almost pierces it's skull. The force of the blow pushes it back away from Ghsotfist and, now, it is actually bleedind it's fould dark blood.

"Let me guess," sneers Ghostfist, "No one makes you bleed your own blood but you?"

Frankie snaps her wrist to one side, cleansing the silver-limned blade of Monsterbane of the demon's foul blood.

The torment demon attacking Grimm suddenly looks around. "They can go invisisble! What?!?"

The dark figure who is hard to see even by those with Nightvision strikes at the demon with it's dark blade. The torment demon is struck int eh side abut doesn;t go down.

Ghostfist steps after the demon she's been fighting and drops into a crouching position beside it. Monsterbane gets swung around as she tries to carve a trench through/across its neck now. Moonlight gleams off of the silver-lined blade of the big Bowie knife.

The attack does not cut throught the demon's prweternatually tough hide.

The demon that was fighting Grimm looks around then flies off to attack the man in black. It comes no where near to hitting the fgiure who simply sidestpes it.

The demon on Ghstfist tried and fails in a lunge for her throat. It's own blood partially blinds it it seems.

Dialydd tries to ensnare the mind of the torment demon on Grimm, but apparently that just one link too many. He already has two illusions operating on the demon that just rushed over to the man in black.

Grimm raises her hand towards the demon attacking Ghostfist. A portal of pitch black opens up above it as a torrent of dark energy rains down towards it.

The demon is slammed into the ground by the waves of force. It's sluggish to recover, but doesn't seem further wounded or bleeding.

And then a stentorian voice, rough with power and angelic in majesty, bellows out of the darkness deeper in the cemetery. "ENOUGH! RETURN TO CEDOCIA, CURS! SO WE COMMAND!" The voice rolls and echoes like thunder, the ground trambling under his voice.

You all can still feel the Gate, the magicks of which shift slightly as the voice speaks. It now leads to the Netherworlds.

The dark clad figure leaps over the torment demon it's sliced with the sword then does a powerful spin kick of the demon towards the Gate.

"Go home and get your shinebox," snarls Ghostfist as she tries to drive Monsterbane into the demon's throat. It's a parting blow, but Ghostfist is in a very petty mood.

The blow from Monsterbane as the torment demon prepares to flee stuns the creature, it's hate filled eyes growing hazy for a moment. (Game terms, it's at -1 STUN)

The other two torment demons seem to push themselves to fly faster than normal as they move towards the direction of the Gate to the Netherworlds.

"Oops. Looks like you're stuck," sneers Ghostfist as she climbs to her feet. Frankie rips Monsterbane from the demon's throat and dusts herself off, planting a boot on its chest as she looks around. "So are we questioning this damned thing? Or should I kill it?"

This question seems to get answered as by the arrow shot out of the darkness by the man in black. It glows a lambent silver as it strikes the torment demon and seems to burn inside the wound. The demon screams as the arrowhead seems to burn the creature from the inside.

A cultured voice from an unseen speaker comes from the darkness, "It failed in its task, Ms. Ghostfist. Let it die and it's shade can face punishment from it's master."

The cultured voice come from the direction of the Gate, which, after another moment, seals itself shut.

"Fine," replies Ghostfist. She steps backward, frowning at the demon as she looks over her shoulder at the dark figure with the cultured voice. "So, did you order raw meat?"

The Gentleman laughs warmly then murmurs in his cultured voice, "Of course, although I doubt it the cuts I would prefer. No matter, so long as the blood is fresh." He steps from between the tick and the tock, which looks a great deal like turning off invisibility, but isn't.

"What the hell? Why were they sent here?" Grimm asks as she catches her breath.

The Gentleman acknowledges each of you with a look and a gentlemanly grin. He inhales deeply as the smoke from the now beginning to blaze torment demon wafts towards him. The blaze is tinged with blue and silver flames which makes those in the know suspect the arrowhead was holy.

The Gentleman shrugs. "No doubt Cedocia wished to know what I am doing. She is hardly the most subtle of my brethren."

"Deals like these always come with a price," grunts Ghostfist, though it's hard to say if she's directing her words toward The Gentleman or to Grimm. She folds her arms across her chest and raises an eyebrow.

"Is Aavan not magnificent," states the Gentleman as he gesturs imperiously at the man in black. The figure trots over as if summoned, sheathing his sword at a full run effortlessly. The figure, clad head to foot in somehow soft looking and silent metal scaled armor, kneels at the Gentleman's side like a trained attack dog.

Grimm suspects its directed at her. "Hmph...Yeah, yeah, I'm realizing that."

"That's one way to describe him," remarks Ghostfist, watching the dark-clad figure that ends up kneeling beside the Gentleman. She offers a toothsome smile that settles somewhere in the realm of neutrality, eyes flicking between master and soldier.

No trace of skin, hair, anything to identify Aavan is visible. Aaven rests unmoving, not breathing, next to the Gentleman. It might as well be a statue for all the life it shows.

Grimm stares. "Aavan is...a being," she realizes in shock. "I thought you said it was a weapon," she looks to Dialydd.

"Living weapons are a thing," offers Ghostfist, shrugging a little bit. She keeps her gaze fixed on Aavan for the moment, watching curiously.

"I did not say anything of the sort, sera Grimm. Whomever was, cha, wearing me said that," the alien youth murmurs. He opesn the picnic hamper he set down beofer the fighting started. He rummages inside for a moment then holds out a wax papaer wrapped sandwich to the Gentleman. "For you, I believe. Bloody rare roast beef, cut thin enough to see through, dark mustard on rye bread, yes? From the Jewish deli you designated."

"We were talking to the Gentleman in the dream," notes Ghostfist, "He was wearing the appearance of Dialydd though."

"Aavan is a weapon, Ms Grimm. It came into existence as a weapon, was honed to be a better weapon and was used always as a weapon. And Aavan, well, Aavan mimics being alive. But Aavan is my weapon, bought and paid for."

The Gentleman takes the sandwich from Dialydd with a slight smiles. "Thank you, Dialydd ni'Bres ti'Emer. You are a credit to the males of your blood."

Dialydd bows in the Jerin manner to the Gentleman then, not taking his eyes off him, backs away.

Ghostfist orbits over to interpose herself between the Gentleman and Dialydd. She smirks slightly and shrugs at the Gentleman.

"Living weapon indeed."

Grimm glances at Ghostfist, wondering what she senses. She looks back to Aavan and the Gentleman. "The armor's empty. Physically, anyway. Scartalfheim, huh?" she examines the armor.

"I insist on nothing but the finest sheathes for my weapons, Ms Grimm. It reflects poorly on me not to show off my best weapon by putting it in an inferior sheathe, now would it?"

He then glances over at Ghsotfist. "I never called Aavan a living weapon, Ms Ghostfist. You did. Aavan is a self-propelled and self-aware weapon. Which, given I am the most peaceable of my brethren, is a fine thing in my opinion," he adds with a gentle smile.

"Self-propelled and self-aware?"

Ghostfist smirks at the Gentleman, her arms still folded across her chest.

"That's a fine line between 'living' and 'life-like' you're treading, I think."

Grimm stares helplessly at the armor. "What are we supposed to do with it in the meantime...?"

"Well, it is knowing the fine disctinctions that define a gentleman, my dear, no?" murmurs the Gentleman to Ghostfist before turning his attention to Grimm.

"Yes, it would be a bit, well, awkward to have an animate suit of armor hanging about, wouldn't it? Such limited imaginations most humans have." He then snaps his fingers. "I know, I'll give you a, let's call it a rune, to summon him. Just the once when you need him at the ritual. That way, Aavan need not frighten off your friends."

"I can think of other things that define a gentleman," replies Frankie.

"That...works," Gabrielle agrees, looking to Ghostfist helplessly.

Frankie looks to Gabrielle, quirking an eyebrow.

"You couldn't do better than just the once?"

"Come now, there is no reason to be greedy, Ms Ghostfist. And I promised you help against treachery from Lereau, not a magnificanet weapon to use whenever you wish," the Gentleman says in a chiding tone.

Grimm stares at Ghostfist a few moments. "What?" she finally replies plaintively.

"Fine, fine. I'll stay out of it. Negotiations between the two of you," replies Frankie. She makes appropriate gestures and takes a step back.

"No, really, what?" Gabrielle says more seriously. "What do you mean I couldn't do better than just once?"

"I meant /HE/ couldn't do better than once," replies Ghostfist, "Like he took it to mean."

"Ms Ghostfist, I fear, operates under the belief that since I'm courting her, I should act like a besotted tool." He sighs softly. "If I gave away my possessions as easily as my heart, I fear she bankrupt my kingdom."

Dialydd, who has listened quietly to all of this, interjects, "Why are you trusting him? He is temptation. He obviously has an ulterior motive that will benefit him and not you. If not in the short term, then the long term." He seems genuinely confused. "Is it not enough to have made an agreement with Lereau?"

Grimm smirks a bit. "Well, I mean...that doesn't sound different from any other woman, technically," she comments on bankruptcy. She looks to Dialydd. "I...yeah. Seems like I'm making a bad deal to make up for another bad deal."

The Gentleman looks at Dialydd for a long moment, his face expressionless, then he smiles slightly, cruelly, "So, you /can/ See. How sad for you to have such clear Sight, K'ta'viir, as it will bring you more sadness than joy," the Gentleman notes in a quiet tone.

He then shifts slightly so as to look as Grimm and Ghostfist more directly, as if turning his back on the alien youth without actually turning his back. "Shall I return later, alone, so you can make a final decision?"

"That may be for the best," replies Frankie, shrugging, "Unless Grimm's already made her decision."

"No, I haven't," Gabrielle sighs and rubs her face, feeling very lost and frustrated. "I'm...going to have to refuse."

The Gentleman nods to Grimm and Ghostfist. "I will take it a provisional refusal. I will contact once more before you face the ritual, Ms Grimm." He smiles paternally. "I've a vested interest in keepinog you sane and alive: I'm fond of the Earth. Some of the finest souls I possess come from here."

He then takes a step back, Aavan rising and backing away with his master. "I say not farewell, but merely Adieu," as a howling Hell Gate opens behind him. A blasted landscape under a dark red sky, a shattered city in the distance, can be seen through the Gate.