Relief

[Nephrite]

Ironically, 7 HP.

[Anastasia]

Blood.

The blades do not stop.

You're on the ground, body broken. Your blood is splashed everywhere, more out of you than in you. One eye doesn't work, your legs barely respond.

As you lie there, for one moment, the Hecatoncheires seems to hesitate.

[Nephrite]

"Choose." Moore says, simply, his body not responding anymore. He rasps - he doesn't need to breathe, and yet somehow he still rasps. "Choose... your own... happiness. Find... your true... moment... of happi--" A hacking, choked of blood cough. "...Happiness, in this place of peace."

Because there is always hope.

[Anastasia]

The blades stay where they are for a second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

The creature's face is twisted. Anger? No, it's not quite right. Confusion.

[Nephrite]

Another rasp.

"You... can choose, your own happiness." He says. "You... have to choose - ...you have to want... it."

[Anastasia]

Diplo check, -100 penalty.

[Nephrite]

[23:04] <Nephrite> roll 1d20+47 let's go for a big 20
[23:04] <Kobot> Nephrite rolled 1d20+47 let's go for a big 20 --> [ 1d20=14 ]{61}

There is some irony that I got a 14 on the last one too...

[Anastasia]

The Hecatoncheires is frozen for that moment.

A step back.

That look of confusion grows. Anger and confusion, but slowly, confusion wins. A single greatsword, far larger than you are, comes up to cleave you apart. But it does not come down. There is a moment of harsh anticipation as you bleed and then? Then it is gone. The nightmare portal has closed. As if it was never there, the only sign of it your broken body and the devastated terrain around you.

Yet the memory of its confused face, of its hesitation, linger within your mind.

[Nephrite]

It is a bit anticlimactic, but Moore attempts to channel some healing into himself so he doesn't actually bleed out here in Elysium.

Two Heal spells to bring him back from almost dead to half dead.

Did he... fail?

No.

Because there is always hope.

A sigh escapes his mouth as he falls back onto the devastated ground.

"You've given me a difficult task, High One." Moore says, mostly to himself.

...But how is he -not- dead, anyway...? Was it Their intervention?

[Anastasia]

You could have chose to slay it. Most would take that meaning from the words of the task you were given.

[Nephrite]

"You and I both know that it might've been in the meaning, but it wasn't in the spirit of what this place represents." Moore says with a small smile as he sits up. "It doesn't represent your Answer at all."

[Anastasia]

There is a prophecy that states that the Hecatoncheires will be at the Final Day. Prophecy is not inviolate, but I knew that only failure or a miracle could occur with the task you were given.

I understand now why Zaphkiel advocated for you to a rare degree. Will you be the one that overcomes the Prophecy of Primus?

[Nephrite]

"I wonder what The Duke of Destiny would say in response to that." Moore says with a bit of a somber smile.

"You know, that prophecy could still be right. It may be at the Final Day, standing on the side of Creation and defending it from evil." A look up at the skies of Elysium. "I've overcome a great deal with my own determination and the help of my friends. I think that there's nothing that can't be done if you truly believe in it and have hope in your heart."

[Anastasia]

Go then.

You have planted a seed within the soul of the Hecatoncheires. Only time will see if it blossoms, but you have accomplished more than I desired from this task. Your way forward will not be barred this time.

A deity who will offer his blood as a sacrifice for even a single soul is one that is worthy of the Empyrean Gate.

[Nephrite]

"You speak too highly of me, High One." Moore says. "We shall return then to deal with the Guardian. However, we still need to wear our blindfolds to get that close, do we not?"