mandalus :: the city of fates.

Despite the valiant efforts of the Honored Guests, the Cult of Mes'Klou simply refused to die. They also refused to give up on their ideals. Which meant that losing the Spaceport was only a temporary set back. During their time in control of the ruined relic of Mandalus history, the Cult had dug deep into the surface. There was something that had been lost that they were determined to find.

Cyril had been the man they picked to put their plans in motion.

They knew alternate routes that the Honored Guests did not. He blended past the behemoth starships, pressing the small box against his chest. It was made of pure dark iron and distorted glass. Inside seemed to be like a brewing storm. It was an honor to carry such a gift in his hands. Those hands shook in fear of endangering his important mission, but he knew that it was worth it. They would be rid of those who went against The Eternal Order and all would end to begin a new.

With a glance over his shoulder, Cyril threw his hood back. He stepped through what was once massive gates. The room below the Spaceport was truly a sight to see. Dead branches, roots and leaves hung and clung to the walls. He quickly bowed his head and pressed his hand to his forehead in prayer. The suffering would end and soon it would be corrected. All of it.

It took time to enter the part of the once sacred site he was looking for. The door that stood in front of him was massive, but those sacrilegious spaceships still dwarfed it. Hand carved into the stone was a depiction of a Mighty Serpent hovering above a Fair Mare. Surrounding them were humans and life forms of the stars. Depictions of the Gods rested around the two forces. It was truly the most sacred site of all--but even that had to come to an end.

With another prayer under his breath, Cyril placed the dark iron box at the foot of the doors. He pressed his hands together as he stepped back. The prayer was for the blessing of Mes'Klou; that he would be swift and merciful. Then he bowed to his knees and waited for the end.

The box exploded with darkness. It wrapped around the ever faithful Cyril and then swirled around the great door. Almost as if a force exploded from the darkness, the great door creaked. Cracks went across the beautiful hand carved art. As the door crumbled a great tremor came from the inside. The very ground of Mandalus began to shake. A powerful force seemed to be unleashed and cut through the darkness. The invisible force made its way out of the underground room and powered through the ground. It could be felt through out the city on the surface.

Somehow, the very universe seemed to tremble in fear.

---

With the force that caused the city of Mandalus to suffer tremors, something else was happening. There was a calling, an ancient distress beacon that was only sounded in the most desperate of times, calling for the gods of old. For the ones that once graced the world with their prescence. Simply because they no longer made themselves known on the planet, did not mean they no longer existed. There were a small handful that would answer to the distress beacon, that would come to Mandalus' aid when it was needed most.

If a person happened to be looking at the sky at the time of the tremors, they would see a blinding white light spiral around a few of the branches before striking the ground in the middle of a park. The light faded, leaving a crater behind, a smoking form laying in the middle. The moment his eyes open, every device in Mandalus goes off, broadcasting this man, this god. There are no cameras to film him, but somehow the Honored Guests of Mandalus are blessed to see this being. His dark hair was short, a thick, black line going from the inside corner of his left eye outwards towards his ear. He was dressed in black, in a style that was old back when the first C'Meni were young.

He climbed to his feet, dusting himself off. Looking up at the sky, he cursed in a language that no person in Mandalus had heard. No living being on the planet had heard it before. But from his tone, it was easily recognized to be not a good word. He climbed out of the crater, snow falling from the sky in fat clumps. But none of it seemed to touch him. He frowned greatly as he looked to the sky, examining the branches of the World's Tree. He huffed, throwing his hands in the air, before dropping them to his side.

"I am Kreyus, M'Vani of A'Vilgi," He intoned, voice deep and echoing. He cleared his throat and his voice came out much more normal. "What in the name of Messis did you people do to my tree?" He asked accusingly, eyes flashing a violent white-purple color.

[ The camera set up in the Central Building, once used for Madam Morris to make her announcements from, now displays a gruesome scene. Guards are on the ground. Dead. Some have deep cuts through their body while others are missing their heads entirely. Morris is seen moving backwards until she hits the desk.

Heavy footsteps are heard. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. ]

[Madam Morris is splattered with the blood of her soldiers, hair in disarray. She holds her hand out towards someone unseen, eyes steely but there is an overwhelming sense of fear.] I command you, in the name of Mes'Klou to stand down. They've done no wrong here. These are not who I have ordered you to hunt down. Stop this, immediately!

[ The Headless Horseman steps into the frame, his axe sliding down in his hand to be gripped better. ]

[Morris flinches at the Horseman shifting his grim. She pushes her back harder against the desk, causing the desk to move back just a fraction.] Have I not done everything that was asked of me? I have captured the C'Meni, I have policed the unwanted guests. I have done everything in my power to bring those that had unlocked the bangles to justice. I have done everything and more! You needn't do this!

But you see, my dear Morris, Prince Trevintis obeys only the leader of the followers of Mes'Klou. The leader who is most powerful. Which, I am sad to say, is no longer you. [ The speaker is off screen, but can be heard perfectly clear. ] Actually? It its more accurate to say you were never the true leader. Despite that, I do congratulate you, Katheryn. You achieved everything we could hope for in merely weeks. I will be sure to include your name in history once Mes'Klou has completed his great work.

[At the words of the unseen man, Morris shifts her gaze from the Horseman. At his speech, tears brim at her eyes, and slide down her cheeks, angry and hot.] So this is it, is it? I do your dirty work, and you rid yourself of me and wash your hands? This is so very like you. [Morris lifts her chin in defiance and climbs to her feet, balling her fists at her sides.] I will do whatever I can to stop you. I will be the one true leader of the follows of Mes'Klou. I will prove that I am better than you.

Sadly, I can't have you threatening control of His followers. Not when we are so close. It is regrettable that we have to end our partnership this way. Perhaps in the next life things will turn out better.

[ The Horseman quickly steps up in front of Morris and in one fell swoop her head is removed from her body. The rest of her crumbles to the ground. As the Horseman turns, a man steps into the view of the camera and sighs. With a "tut-tut", he turns to look at the broadcast. ]



Ahh, Mandalus--residents and those they call our "Honored Guests." I won't pretend to be a hero, as frankly, I would like to see you all dead in the streets as Mes'Klou completes his task. Allow me to introduce myself as it is only proper you know me. I am Darius Ardon. No doubt you know me and my company by now... especially the Guests who have been here longer. [ He raises his hand and gestures to the bloodied room. ] The room and tower is yours. Feel free to do whatever you wish with it. And, know this: you will fight for this universe and your universes if you give half a damn about them.

[ The Horseman then raises his axe and strikes at the camera. The feed cuts. ]

Midnight. The Temple. Days after the priestess, Ensi, was forcibly removed from her save haven for every and all religions, the Serpent's cult has taken over. Towards the back of the high room, the ornately decorated floors had been torn up, ancient tiles shattered into small pieces and dust. A dozen cultists used sledge hammers and pickaxes to pierce through the ground. The men were, maybe, six, seven feet down, when an authoritative voice rung out, "Be careful, you fools! You should be close to your destination. If you damage anything, you don't want to know what will happen to you, or your fellow diggers."

Madam Morris stood twenty feet away from the ever widening, slowly deepening hole. Her arms were crossed beneath her bust, her chin held high. A small group of priests of the Serpent's cult stood at the altar-- which was moved to the side for the digging to commence-- looking over a large, leather-bound book. She glanced to the group, arching an eyebrow coolly. "Have you got it?"

The priest nearest to Morris turned and nodded several times. "Yes, Madam. We've got it."

"And the ingredients needed?"

Another positive reply. "All we need is..." He trailed off, gesturing to the hole in the floor.

"Good. Make sure everything is ready by the time they finally--"

"Madam!" Came the loud call of one of the men with a pickaxe. "We've reached it."

"Pull it out. Quickly!" Morris turned to face the hole, taking several steps forward. "But if you drop it, I'll have you thrown from the top of the capitol building."

The diggers made various sounds of exertion, grunts, groans, curses as they lifted the chain-wrapped coffin from the hole. The chains and the coffin itself were covered in runes that glowed faintly in the low light. Once the coffin was set on the floor, all but one of the diggers backed off as one of the priests came forward. He muttered a few words, sprinkling an ornate jar of ashes over the coffin. The runes laid into the coffin burned away, and the chains turned brittle and broke as if made of sand when the final digger moved to pull them off. He pulled off the lid of the coffin, throwing it off to the side. He looked inside, eyes widening. "Is that really him?"

Morris smiled, a slow, predatory smile. "Oh, yes. That's him."

Without having to direct them, Morris took a step back, and the rest of the priests moved forward, quickly setting items at particular intervals in a circle, with the coffin in the middle. Ancient words were spoken, and as they were, the winds outside began to pick up. As the wind howled, torrential rains fell from the heavens, beneath the branches of tree of the multiverse. Thunder roared, lightning cracked. There was simply no way this would go unnoticed. The storm would wake every citizen and 'honored' guest of the city of Mandalus.

At the final words, a shockwave of power rushed forth, originating from the man in the coffin, spreading throughout the city. Blood trickled in a steady stream from the noses of all that were now in danger of the man in the coffin.

The headless body inside lay still, except for the hands that clenched around the sides of the coffin. Slowly they pulled the body up, the old rags of ancient prison clothes clinging to the body. It stood motionless in the coffin for but a few moments before turning to face the Madam. If it had eyes, the headless man would have stared directly into the soul of the woman that woke him from his slumber.

The members of the Cult, all dressed in their working clothes or their riot gear shuffled at the presence of the man. "The Prince..." they whispered.

Morris grinned. "We'll find you something a little more...suitable."

[ The C'Meni had been working long hours to prepare the weapon that was said to destroy Mes'Klou. Once all eight pieces of technology or artifacts had been gathered, the C'Meni moved their newly created weapon to the remaining roof of the Spaceport. There, they waited.

And waited.

Finally, they managed to find Mes'Klou. The embodiment of the Serpent stood in the Business District, eagerly watching on as another victim fell to the hands of the Cult.

The weapon began to power up. It was a hum that filled the surrounding area. Then it grew brighter. A success so far. Aiming the weapon was the most difficult part. It took three men to move to aim it, and one to stabilize it. It was something built to be a powerhouse and to destroy, not to last.

A bright beam - much like the one from the weapon that the System created - extended from the weapon. It shot at the speed of light, giving no chance for Mes'Klou or the Cult members around him to even run. They were vaporized in an instant. Screams were not heard as a large beam made contact with the ground. A small crater formed where the targets once stood. Glass in the surrounding buildings shattered, shards going in all directions. Frames of buildings were charred and melted from the intense heat of the weapon.

Then the sound happened. The sound that no one would be unable to ignore or ever, ever forget. It echoed around the whole city. It did not matter how far underground the person was or if they were asleep. The sound was that of shattered glass, as if someone had gone through and pushed over the cabinet that contained all the fine china.

If one turned their head skyward, they would see what shattered.

It was the sky.

It cracked. Fine lines spread across the sky until eventually, the early morning sky gave way to pure blackness. Then fine white lines appeared in the widened cracks. They formed like tree roots, intertwining and spreading out as far as the eye could see. Almost as if the root like figures encompassed the entire planet.

Silence fell briefly before sirens wailed. Car alarms, the city warning system, the Mandalus Network. Everything at once became noisy and chaotic as the scene in the Business District came to life in panic and joy. At the time, no one asked what the price was. They had won. ]

Early on the morning of February 27th, a low rumbling can be heard. It starts quietly, as if just a stirring in the wind, but gradually it builds until it leaves the city trembling, shaking so hard that things fall from tables, picture frames drop from the walls, and random car alarms start up in the streets all over the city.

It lasts only for a few minutes, as if it was merely a small earthquake, but as the sun shines over Mandalus, the clouds part to reveal the Serpent, its face bared, wounded from the attack struck on it during the last battle. It unhinges its enormous jaw, a blinding light flashing to life in its mouth, and within seconds the ball of light surges down onto the Northern area of the Residential District.

In one smooth shot, Mother's Plantation is lost, the surrounding area destroyed, half of the District brought down, caving in on itself. It rocks the city, sending a ripple effect through Mandalus, the shaking worse than anything experienced earlier, and the noise is nothing short of a sonic boom.

As the Serpent retreats and the clouds cover the sky again, the Residential District is left half destroyed, the remainder of the city a trembling mess, and countless wounded litter the streets around the blast zone, many more killed in the attack. The Serpent has made its retaliation for the battle it lost.


((OOC: The information for this event can be found HERE. Please direct all questions to this post.))