[KQ] The Limit

Zariah's eyes narrowed upon seeing her "family" block her path. Whoever came up with this ruse had not anticipated a Launceleyn encountering it. While the family was incredibly loyal to each other, there was a strict heirarchy and she was at the top. To block her path? To tell her no? It wouldn't happen unless they had a death wish - a wish she was happy to grant in this case. Her eyes locked with the one that looked like Neron briefly, but it was the only sign that she cared in the slightest. With a wave of her hand lightening rained down on those in her path, intent on destroying the obstacle so she could continue forward. She would not succumb to this illusion. She would not allow emotion to control her. Should she be successful she would continue forward. Zariah zappy-zaps her family with master lightning and continues up the stairs, givinf absolutely zero fucks because she is a garbage human being. zariah If my strength intimidates you, I hope you realize that is a weakness of yours.

key quest

There is an old saying that goes something like this:

You get what you give.

For the party in the upper echelons of the Spire, dispatching their loved ones who waited so patiently, so excitedly for their arrival, this saying proves particularly true.

You bludgeon, you are bludgeoned.
You burn, you are burned.
You pierce a heart and your heart bleeds for it in return.

The group's friends and family die (again), their bodies falling and bleeding, their expressions as shocked and pained as if this were the first time they had been killed. Maybe it is. Maybe they were here all along. Maybe their death or disappearance was simply the realm's way of keeping them safe up here, until such a time as when they could be rescued.

Maybe.

You'll never know.

The way up is clear, and the group presses onward.

---

Another platform, but this one small, bare, simple. The air up here tastes like static, and light pulses from obsidian walls in white veins. Before the group stands an enormous archway - beyond it, blackness, as solid as any physical door.

But before that, the party is greeted by a child - a young boy with eyes as old and vibrant as one who has lived a truly ancient amount of time.

"Hello," he says, looking up at the group. "I understand you have made it this far, and I commend you for your determination. But what lies beyond cannot be allowed to roam free. The price is too steep."

He frowns at them. "But for you to have gotten here, I know you care not for prices, so I shall speak plain. If you wish to enter here, one of you must have faith and give your life for the rest to do so. I hope against hope that you turn back now, and think not your souls worth so little."

---

HP:

Ashetta: 51
Samuel: 26
Zariah: 29

There is no post order for this round - please discuss amongst yourselves to decide who will pay this price.

Only the character who decides to give their life need post.

You have 24 hours.

Zariah walked up the stairs to the next platform without even a half glance back. Immediately her eyes locked on the small boy, expressionless as always. Only as he spoke his ultimatum did her expression change. A slight raise of her brow was all. Someone of faith needed to sacrifice themselves? First they threw emotional illusions at her, then this? These people really did not understand what she was about. She was Head of the Launceleyn Family, a family bound to protect the people of Northwind at all costs. Their lives only held meaning in sacrifice, it was their one purpose for existence. To fight to the bitter end, and when the day of reckoning came, lay down their lives to protect all. Northwind no longer existed…but this Hollowed Grounds…its people…that was there was left to be protected. The redhead was a simpering coward. Ashetta had suffered perhaps as much as Zariah but clearly had not been mentally conditioned to withstand the emotional toll; but Zariah had been born ready for this. A small smirk curved her lips. Underestimated, once again. And for the last time. The Head of the Launceleyn’s stepped forward, confidently and without hesitation. ”Then let them through. This is my ultimate purpose anyways.” she said simply, holding the eerie-boy’s gaze. Death was not her enemy or tormentor, death was her reason. zariah If my strength intimidates you, I hope you realize that is a weakness of yours.

key quest

Zariah Launceleyn stepped forward and the boy tilted his head up to lock eyes with her. He seemed to bore into her very soul with his gaze, searching, checking, finding. And what he found was good enough - or bad enough, it seemed, for his expression grew steely and grim. "You really would, wouldn't you?" he said softly. "You would die, to see this door open. You would end yourself, to give a beginning to others." He gritted his teeth.

"That you would throw life away is abhorrent, whether it is your own or another's. A curse upon you for opening this door. A curse upon you for considering life so worthless." Without another word, the boy frittered away, disappearing into glittering particles that showered down upon the party. Beyond him, the blackness seemed just that little less opaque, less a door and more... a shadow. A shadow curving up, up into the very top of the Spire. Where something glowed, and something hummed.

And Zariah...

Well.

Zariah lived.

---

Congratulations, all. <3 You all receive credit for this KQ and +2 stats of your choice!

Zariah also gains some... benefits. And a curse. Ho hum.

The top of the Spire is open. You may spread the word, and enter when you are ready...

(Stand by for what happens next, folks!)

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?

Sam did his best to not look at the results of his actions, the body of his mentor shockingly real in the way he curled up tense then loosened on the ground. He kept his eyes up, fixed on the wall as tears brimmed in the bottoms of his eyelids. But before he could confront the rage of guilt in him, force himself to look down, he was smacked to the side hard by a sharp point in his head.

He took in a sharp, pained gasp and lifted his hands to uselessly press against the wound, feeling the dent and the sharp waves of pain. Already his breathing was becoming hard to control, quick and desperate breaths marking the beginnings of something he knew could consume him.

Later, he would not recall walking up the stairs, his feet working independently like those of an automaton as his hands cradled his wounded head and his face was crumpled up into an emotional, ruined mess.

Honestly he was barely even aware of the child, did not truly understand the words coming from his mouth. Sam was beyond himself, in a swirl of regret and panic and pain. Zariah stepped forward, said something...then the doors opened. He watched it all with bleary confusion and wished he'd stayed at home.

Samuel

Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

ASHƎ if you think i'm pretty, you should see me in a crown    Ashe had turned to flee the sight of Ronin's body sliding off of her blade, the pain and betrayal on his face. Not real, she told herself as she moved after the others, but she let out a sharp and halt gasp at the fire that erupted in her chest. She half stumbled, her hand flying to her chest as breath became wet and hard to draw.. and looking down, blood was blooming from her chest, seeping through her hands at an alarming rate. The assassin struggled for real air, and she rode the waves of the pain that came in, glancing back at Ronin. The same wound. With an involuntary shudder at the sharpness in her chest, she turned once more, following after Zariah and Samuel with blood leaking from between her fingers.    The child that greeted them was unnerving at best, and she grit her teeth to focus on him as he spoke, knowing how to accept the pain and yeild to it. A... sacrifice? Rage flared in her chest at that, she wanted to roar at this being that they had sacrificed enough. Ronin's ascention flashed through her mind in the same moment the feeling of him slipping free of her sword did. Not real. She could still feel it.    Before she could voice her anger, Zariah.. she offered her fucking life. She blinked in surprise as she coughed against her will, red trickling from the corner of her mouth. She moved to step forward, to say no, they had played enough of these games... but the strange boy let her live.. the cost something Ashe was certainly not privy to.    But it was done. Fire blue eyes locked upon the solid dark that melted into shadow, that turned upwards.. The way out. It had to be. Ashe watched Zariah ascend, eyes blazing with a hard determination. I'm coming for you, Ronin, she thought. Hand still pressed firmly over her still-bleeding chest, the wolf girl moved to the call of whatever they were fighting to set free. your silence is my favorite sound watch me make 'em bow one by one by one