Vark's fireball rocks the top of the pyramid, scorching the three dragonborn who reflexively hold up their arms to shield themselves. The translucent column of emerald energy flares brightly and becomes more saturated and clearly visible. At its base, it crackles and glitches with scarlet fractals scattering across its surface. However, the trio are left standing, with green runes burning brightly on their scales.

Jex goes unseen as he slips from shadow to shadow around the ring of cultists. However, as the assassin rounds the north-eastern corner of the ritual chamber, a droning boom rings out making dust fall from the stones above. Jex looks down and sees that a circle of glyphs has lit up beneath one of his feet. Though still hidden by his cloak of elvenkind and the mask of silence, the ward has alerted the cultists to the approach of an unknown intruder somewhere nearby. The nearest of the cloaked figures begin to fan towards the source of the alarm.

From all sides of the pyramid, cultists leave their positions on the ring and head for the intruders. Whispered chants echo about the chamber, bewitching the senses and striking fear into the hearts of even the most battle-hardened warriors. Only Thor's blessing shields Thurston from their enchantments. As the Morrigan's faithful draw near, they summon spears of shadow and hurl them into the Acharnost's ranks. However, the fell weapons merely glance off of Thurston and Bründir's armour, while Larkin bats another away from Valaith with an arcing swing of his maul. Aiden and Vark, on the other hand, must weather the storm.

Bründir's eyes flare with supernatural light, akin to the blade in his hand. He levels the blade at the shower of shadow weapons and swings it down to his side. A pulse reverberates from the ground beneath the dwarf's feet as he commands, "Shut it!" The chanting cultists fall silent as their influence is broken. The glow in Bründir's eyes fades as the induced terror subsides from those nearby.

A cultist quickly caught the opposing energies and charged the dwarf. Bründir deflected the shadowy spear off his shield and pauldron, then returned with a slash from Dumdrengi's short edge.

Vark’s blast is answered by spears of shadow, but between his own spear and his armor only grazing jabs reach the mage. Vark growls as the fodder continue to press him, their unholy chants now beginning to assault his psyche. Can the Acharnost truly stand against the sisters? Are they too late? Should they run?  Intrusive doubts begin to fill his mind, but with a forceful slam of Pathmaker he dispels the enchantments. The dark magic splinters as jagged lines of red branch and fork in nonagonal forms around him.

But even as Vark is assaulted by the cultists, his focus remains on the ritual at the center of the room. Batting aside another shadow spear, Vark shoves past the attackers and unleashes another lance of entropic magic towards the sisters. The crimson geometry surrounding him coalesces into a single ruby vector that bends and angles around the pyramid before plunging into the dark scaled dragonborn atop it with a distorted roar.

Val shudders at the vile magic of the cultists washes over her and suddenly she's back in frozen peaks of her home, running through the cliffs and mountain passes as quickly as her legs would carry her, holding back the tears as one by one her friends fall behind and die around her as they all push themselves beyond the brink of exhaustion to get home and warn the village. That fear, that nigh debilitating fear seizes hold of her, but still she throws herself in front of Aiden just as one of the spears of black magic streaks towards him! The point cuts her across her hip, drawing a line of blood. She looks down at Aiden with wide eyes before Brundir's words wash over them and she finds that primal terror gone. She did not know what the dwarf did, but she stands up straight as she spins around with Rook in another massive arc as she seeks out the two cultists that dared to attack her and her friends. With a satisfying crunch, two more cultists drop before her might as the black sparks pop and swirl and the cut on her hip stitches itself shut. "Push onward! They are nothing before the might of the Acharnost!"

Quote from Sphynxyy >>

Vark’s blast is answered by spears of shadow, but between his own spear and his armor only grazing jabs reach the mage. Vark growls as the fodder continue to press him, their unholy chants now beginning to assault his psyche. Can the Acharnost truly stand against the sisters? Are they too late? Should they run?  Intrusive doubts begin to fill his mind, but with a forceful slam of Pathmaker he dispels the enchantments. The dark magic splinters as jagged lines of red branch and fork in nonagonal forms around him.

But even as Vark is assaulted by the cultists, his focus remains on the ritual at the center of the room. Batting aside another shadow spear, Vark shoves past the attackers and unleashes another lance of entropic magic towards the sisters. The crimson geometry surrounding him coalesces into a single ruby vector that bends and angles around the pyramid before plunging into the dark scaled dragonborn atop it with a distorted roar.

A blood red glow wells up from beneath Megren's scales, skittering up her side and towards her head in a jerky zig zag pattern. She bellows in fury as the emerald hue of the streaming magic shifts a touch closer to ruby.

"You fools!" She snarls. "We will be one!"

The spears and the foul magic of the cultists fell upon Thurston as rain of his homeland. He ignored it, protected both by his armor and Thor’s power he just punched one cultist in the face as he dared to approach too much to the enraged Norscan. 
His eyes are still fixed into the Dragonborn sisters but more and more cultists surround him trying to stop him. 

He hears Megren’s words and replies. 
“To that I say…. “ 

He jumped, raising high above the cultist heads, one of them who already were grabbing him from the shoulder falling away. Extending his arm Rikkazarik flew to his hand and sparks of lighting started to emerge from it as Thurston holds it firm at the height of his jump. He descended abruptly, smashing the ground between Korinn and Megren. 

“… NO!!” 

As he yelled and smashed the ground the thunder boomed in the room once more. 
The runes on the scales of the sisters flashed again, but this time a tittle less bright. The combination of the green and red light at the top of the piramid gave the white sister a weird aspect, as if she was a multicolored Dragonborn instead of white. Her sister scales, however, where as black as the moonless night. 
Thurston was ready to make his previous menance true. 

Jex watches, frozen to the spot for a second as the cultists spread out looking for him. He sees his companions, the sorcerer flying and hurling magic, a powerful hammer wielding giantess cracking skulls, the man he befriended because he thought it would be funny but had since won him over, with his compatriot both literal conduits for their god, the dwarf who despite the loss of an eye pushed them all onwards. Suddenly the daggers felt flimsy in his hands. His mask and cloak a thin veil. How could they ever need him? The fear gripped him. Not the advancing cultists who were probably only investigating a potential threat as an excuse not to get their heads crushed, but realising that they might realise he was unnecessary. He felt very foolish for letting his guard down as he effortlessly slipped through a gap in the search lines to come up behind the pyramid.

He steadies himself. More demigods in a magical battle. What could he possibly do compared to the others here? He flinches as he prepares to strike, his head tells him he is unseen - reach around and go for the throat. But the fear of being caught exposed there bites him. His hesitation breeds doubt and he simply plunges the daggers into the dragonborn's back, barely commiting as his focus is squarely on a place to retreat to unseen. He slips away, slapping himself.

Fear is natural, how you face it is what defines your bravery. Jex did not think he rated highly in that moment. Shame creeped in and he steadied himself to try again on a new target.

The cultist's frightening magic makes his stomach turn, and Aiden recoils. Suddenly, he's twelve years old again, being dragged into a Norscan longship by a burly warrior who was as heartless as he was brutal. He knees buckled, and he was preparing to collapse into a heap of flesh and armor when he sees the blue glow of Dumdrengi out of the corner of his eye. Brundir's harsh words for the cultists brings Aiden back to himself. 

Being taken advantage of this way, the fear magic, preying on people's primal insecurities...a snarl rises from deep in Aiden's gut. "You bastarðr are without honor!" His rage turns to action, and he seizes hold of the full devastating might of the conjured storm. He can feel Thor's wrath moving with him. The booming thunder from Thurston's attack is joined by a stone-rattling thunderclap from above. A lightning bolt, as bright as the midday sun and as powerful as an angry god lances down into the pyramid.

The lightning illuminates the entire ritual chamber as it strikes the top of the pyramid, forcing those who fail to look away to shield their eyes or be temporarily blinded by the stark, white light. Only the tall, square pillars that support the vaulted ceiling around the edges of the room provide any shelter from the brilliant flash. The crack of thunder that follows the bolt from above is deafening and a shockwave pulses out from the point of impact. Anybody close by is immediately knocked from their feet and all around the chamber cultists are sent stumbling back away from the pyramid's base. Korinn and Megren snarl and convulse on the ground as shocks of electricity wrack them. Only Sora and Thurston are unphased, both breathing heavily, but seemingly invigorated by the elemental power flowing through them, even despite the bleeding wound on the dragonborn's back.

Then, in an instant, everything changes.

As the thunder's rumble fades, a spine-chilling howl rises to replace it. An otherworldly wail of anguish, fury and hunger. A wind picks up, whistling between the pillars and spiralling ever faster towards the pyramid in a swirling vortex that draws in everything it touches. Even the light seems to be caught up and swallowed by this irresistible force.

From his position amidst the sororal trinity, Thurston can see why.

The emerald beam of magical power that had stretched the height of the tower is gone. Where it once stood atop the pyramid's flattened peak, there now gapes a pitch black maw rimmed with frost. The cloud of black smoke that emerged from the cultist slain by Bründir is immediately drawn inside and Valaith can feel Rook rattling against her grip. Dumdrengi flares brighter than ever.

Before anybody can react, a tentacle erupts from within the dark gate and wraps itself around Korinn's leg, dragging the armoured dragonborn screaming into the black.

Infernal red mixes with eldritch green and Vark hesitates. Is he helping, or is he once again playing into Matthew’s schemes somehow. His own blue lightning begins to crackle around him as he prepares to switch strategies, but Aiden beats him to the strike. The flailing bodies of cultists tumble around the sorcerer as they are all bombarded with the thunderous power of Thor. Were it not for Vark’s innate elemental connection he’d likely be knocked aside as well, but instead the winds whip around him and begin to lift him off the ground. Vark leans into this, allowing the growing storm to carry him up to give him a better vantage. But as he gets a view of what is now transpiring atop the pyramid, his mouth falls open in silent horror.

“You wish to know of other worlds? Hmmm...” Aureaonus’ voice echoed in thunderous booms against the stone walls of his study. The rumbles softened to a murmur, replaced by the howling winds that cloaked Endelfjell in perpetual storm. Vark was used to the giant’s long pauses, questions not answered for hours or days as the giant pondered. This response came several minutes later.

“There,” he says, pointing to a book and causing the words along the spine to illuminate with blue light. “You may find the cosmology of the Norscans more approachable than others. Start there.”

With studious haste Vark began to pour over the contents of the book, a theological study of the Norscan faih written by a Breannian scholar. He read into the dark hours of the night, learning of even darker realms and the horrors they contained. Back then the young bot could never have imagined that he’d be face to face with such otherworldly dangers now.

“They’ve opened some kind of portal! It’s... cold and dark, something is pulling them in!” he shouts, hoping Aiden can hear him over the cacophony and that the Norscan cleric might have insight as to where in the multiverse this gateway leads. “Thurston do you know-“ he calls to the other Norscan only to watch from above as the paladin finds himself with his hands full....

Thurston voice was muffled by the intensity of the wind blowing around him. But he he smiled when the tentacle took Korinn inside the portal. A deserved fate. Evil always tend to turn into itself, as one of his masters at the temple used to said. That he wasn't mean to be so literal never crossed the paladin's mind. 

With his cape billowing behind him towards the portal he saw the other sister, Megren, trying to move away from the portal.

"You wanted to be one right?! " he yelled at her, his voice now booming over even above the sounds of the wind and the battle. 

"Come " he said grabbing the black dragonborn by one arm "Let me help you!" he pulled with all his strength back as he crossed his other arm over his own shoulder, with the hammer at the ready. As he pulled he swung the hammer in the oposite direction, hitting the dragonborn in the head. He could felt how the shoulder of the arm he was pulling broke and poped out of its socket with the strength of the hit. She probably screamed, but her jaw was also broken and she had lose firm footing. Thurston keep on his pulling, sending her directly to open portal while he pulled himself away from it. She flew into it. "Go to hell you bastard!!" he yelled at her as Megren disappeared into the portal. He looked around, searching for the last of the witches. He then saw Vark taking care of that...

"Sounds like Niflheim!" Aiden shouts to Vark over the malestrom roaring from the portal. "Trust me, you do not want to go there." 

He reaches up to the sky and calls down another bolt of lightning, channeling it through his body and blasting it out along a line of four cultists. The lightning ripples over their forms, their limbs going rigid, then falling slack as all four crumple to the ground. "We need to get out of here!"

Val stops for a moment as the chaos erupts on the pyramid above and looks down at Rook, shaking in her hands. As she stares at the weapon, she thinks back to when this all first started… and the black lightning just now and the marks upon her arms. Perhaps… perhaps this weapon could be more than just a hammer. Like Thurston’s and Brundir’s weapons. She takes it in both hands and leaps up towards the nearest group of cultists and slams Rook into the ground near them. She wills the hammer to explode the black lightning out into them!

Vark grits his teeth and looks down upon the battlefield seeking a way to end this quickly. Only one of the sisters remains, and Vark has well learned by now that dragonborn of her azure hue are immune to his favored method of attack. He is hesitant to use more of Matthew’s power for fear of the crimson magic being sucked into this portal... Oh, wait, that’s perfect. 

The mage takes Pathmaker in both hands, clouds gathering around him as he rears back. Then with a great sweeping motion he drags the spear’s head sideways through the air like an oar through water. The winds respond, crashing into Sora and sending her sailing ass over head into the ravenous vortex at the center of the room.

"Niflheim!" shouts Thurston now closer enough to the rest of the team to hear Aiden's words  " We cannot leave this portal open. We must close it!"

"I'm open to suggestions!" Aiden shouts at Thurston. "Vark, can you dispel this?" The emphasis on the pronoun rang clear and true through the stormy air. You. Not him. You.

"Maybe we can channel Thor's power through Rikkazarik? Maybe Vark's power and the other relics can hep too?" says Thurston putting the same emphasis on the half-orc name as Aiden did with the pronoun.

A wave of black lightning arcs out from Rook's haft as Valaith swings the tremendous hammer through the air, leaving streams of sparks in its wake. They fizzle across the flagstones with a painfully high-pitched chitter, etching a pattern like that on the goliath's arms as they go. Wherever the dark energy finds flesh and clothing, the surface begins to necrotise and crumble to dust. Soon, drifting clouds of foul tasting ash are all that is left of the cultists that had faced Valaith mere moments before.

However, before anybody can pay too much attention to Rook's behaviour, the hammer grows colder still in Val's grasp. The terrible pull of the howling vortex emanating from the portal falls still and a low growl builds in the dark. Slowly, ice begins to creep down the sides of the pyramid from the ring of rime around the edges of the black hole. Then with an almighty roar, three enormous draconic heads burst forth from within; one black, one blue and one white, each supported by a long scaled neck. The bellow in fury at the Acharnost, spraying acid, lightning and ice in all directions.

The sorcerer winces as the ungodly amalgamated dragon bursts out of Nilfheim’s icy grasp. “I- I- I can t-try!” he shouts back. In truth he has no real idea how to go about this. Matthew’s magic was so calculated and measured even in its rage, dispelling other magic was simply a task of picking apart at those neatly woven threads. But his own magic is primal and instinctual, in his eyes it lacks finesse. His only thought is to try and overcharge the portal, filling it with too much energy for its structure to bear. He plants Pathmaker down in front of him and channels the storm within, launching a concentrated torrent of lightning at the edge of the rift. Vark doesn’t even need to ask for assistance this time. As Aiden climbs the stairs, he lends a bolt of his own lightning to the mage and the combined surge manages to blast away a chunk of ice at the foot of the opening. But still the abyssal vortex rages on, and Vark begins to despair. “It- it’s not working! I don’t... I can’t...” He pauses as glowing gold catches his eye. “Wait! There! It’s a circle, like the others! Somebody break it!” As he steps forward to show them, a stray bolt of the dragon’s lightning glances across his shoulder. Vark stumbles back and away, desperately pulling out a potion and praying that the others can finish this.

"Yeah!" replies Thurston with a smirk in his lips, despite that fact that no one can see it as he has covered his face since the dragonborn acid attack. "Somebody do that. I take care of the heads!!" He then jumps towards the portal raising Rikkazarik and screaming a Norscan battle cry. 

The momentum of his jump caught the white head by surprise and Thurston smashed it in the forehead. The thunder resonates in the chamber and the lighting illuminates Thor's paladin for a second. The white head recoils and spites a cold breath upon the Norscan, but the Acharnost can hear Thurston laugh.

"This is just a summer breeze!!" he yells as he prepares the next attack.

The blue one opens its maws and a lighting flies towards the now covered in frost barbarian. But he reacts on time and uses Rikkazarik to stop it. Sparks of electricity expands around him and it seems that he is able to deflect most of the powerful dragon's breath.

"Ha!" he mocks the head "You dare to throw lighting against one of Thor's servants?! you fool!!" 

But the black head slithers to his side and bites him in the shoulder, the powerful mandibles close hard over his body and the neck turns and spins, rising the Norscan and throwing him a few feet away. Thurston rolls in the floor and stops his fall some steps down the top of the pyramid. The elven armor has deflected most of the teeth but the incredible strength of the bite will leave his left shoulder sore for some days. But with the battle at his highest point and the adrenaline flowing in his veins, Thurston barely acknowledge it.

"Oh we both can play to that game!" he says to the black head. The rest of the group could swear that he was really enjoying the fight. He runs upstairs and jumps towards the black head, grabbing it just behind the horns and using his own weight and the strength of his arms to force it down. It tries to shake the Norscan off, but to no avail. The blue head opens his jaws trying to chop his head off, but Thurston anticipated this and, using the black neck as pivoting point, he jumps and kicks the blue one in the nostrils, before it could complete his attack. This sudden movement made the black one able to get free from the Norscan arms, sending him flying up. It immediately opens his mouth, pouring acid, to devour the human on his fall. Thurston extends one hand, calling for his hammer who flew to his master. A lighting fall from the sky through the opening and charges the hammerhead. Thurston's screams as he grabs Rikkazarik with both hands and raises it over his head to smash the black dragon head. It seems to be ready to swallow him whole...