Chapter 2: Fell Tunnels

(Quick Action, 1/day) This battle, you and each of your allies can each separately add the escalation die to a single save made by that character. In addition, you and your allies do not die from hit point damage when your negative hit points equal half your normal hit points; instead you die when your negative hit points equal your full hit points.

Invocation of Life: 1/1 used
Lay on Hands: 0/2 used
Smite Evil: 2/4 daily used; 1/1 for battle used
HP: 37/44
Icons: Lich King

"He feels numb lost in time." This whispered in a world of endless night. The world, a blade's edge, a lonesome ring arc of golden light. The whispers a chorus, a cacaphomy chanted by the Nine Gods, The Nine Goddesses. Akka, and Ukko in unison stood in judgement. The Gaping Void at either edge of his Twilight, threatened to swallow everything, everywhere, all at once.

"Sister, I never dreamt that I would find you in the light of my dying day. I see her red golden tears of light reflected on you. Its been so long since I have seen your face." Hrafe reached out, finding himself drawn along the arc of light. Each step was as if he were being torn asunder. He slipped, nearly falling from the arc. Forced to look upon his future, a glimpse thaf filled him with dread. Witnessing himself in mortal combag with himself as the Gods and Goddesses judged in silence.

He looked to the glowing form of his sister, who wore the face of Makasi. He knew her to be the angel of death. He was lost, there was no escaping this fate. "I once faced the dark and that day I chose wisely. I felt the light and knew it as good. These years have passed and I don't know what has happened. Where once was evil, something changed in me."

The Whispers came back in crescendo. "He feels numb lost in time, he won't change the life he had."

They were right. Deeds had been done, sins committed, atonement deffered. No chance to right anything. But Hrafe felt no remorse. "If this is really death then it is not so bad." He swallowed his pride resigning that indeed he was to face his final judgement. He looked and saw the ruin that was his body. "Fed to the crows, and they picked my bones. I can still see the oceans of blood staining my hands. I remember what was wrought at the whipping post as they cast me from the higher realm."

He stared down into the arena where he killed himself in mortal combat, over, and over, and over again. So much death, a monolith of his flesh. And from the middle of the mound, he stared up at himself, pointing a spear in challenge. It was just the two of him. He felt that dread once more icy cold as it ripped through his shoulder like the axe of the foe that had slain him.

"If I had a chance to live again, I think I would rather be dead." He remarked as the reality that he was dead, and the pain had finally stopped. The madness had been quelled. He remembered, he had always been here. In the moment, hiding behind the light. He recalled his wise decision. The only moment of lucidity in otherwise perpetual madness. The only sensible choice, was to reject the gods that had lead him to this fate. There was only one god in Hrafe, and that was the struggle of being a mere mortal.

One life to live, a treasure. An immortal could never know the ecstasy. "Lo there I see. The Darkness that was always me. The bloodlust The Father has made me to be. The madness to struggle ceaselessly." Hrafe rejected this fate. His spite for the betrayal of these gods became a fuel of hate. Envigored he filled himself with resolve, casting himself down to that barren heap of his flesh. He was armed with spear and shield, squaring off against himself. "Beloved brother, Enemy. I sing my swordsong for you, my lullaby of obliteration. So I may wake with a smile and bliss in my heart." The deadly dance began...

"He is the first. He will be the last. He is the son of the sun. He is the Eternal Serpent. He is The Law-Giver. He is God of Swords. He is Lord of Humankind. He is the devourer upon the shore of corpses. He is ascension. He is risen. He is the seed that is sewn. He is the Lord of The Black Gate. He is the defender of light. He is The Way. He is All Truth. He is the prince of promise. He is the prince of darkness. He is the prince of the power of the air. He is Lightbringer. He is the accursed black star. He is Thrice Cast from The Divine Realm. He is the shepherd of mortals. He is the First Flame. He is The Coming Curse. He is the bane of dragons. He is the Blessing of Creation. He is the Watcher's eye. He is the blinder of the Most High. He is the maimed God. He is the Inheritor of Light. He is father of wickedness. He is the breaker of entropy. He is the first. He will be the last. Harigasti Tiewaz, Victory Incarnate. Harigasti Tiewaz!" The chorus of eighteen voices of the nine gods and goddesses crescendos as the two remaining Hrafe tried their utmost to kill one another. Locked in fruitless struggle as each evaded the other's blade as if by seventh sense.