9909/Path of Glory: The Rising of the Sun

Path of Glory: The Rising of the Sun
Date of Scene:	26 February 2022
Location:	Duat
Synopsis:	Lydia leads the majority of those who are needed into the Duat where they meet three of the guardians of the common man. Passing the gates of fire and ice were simple enough, but the guardian of the gate of blood is an altogether different matter.
Cast of Characters:	Lydia Dietrich, Cael Becker, Phoebe Beacon, Caitlin Fairchild, Chas Chandler
Tinyplot:	Path of Glory

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Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia's apartment is a spacious affair, set in the heart of Brooklyn. Inside is a full sized kitchen with an attached dining area, a living room that's filled top to bottom with bookshelves and a hallway leading back to the bathroom and bedroom. It's at the arch of this hallway that Lydia has drawn hieroglyphs and lit incense. On the coffee table there's a terrarium with about half a dozen scarabs bumbling about.

    As each arrives, she greets them with a warm smile, and beckons them inside. She's wearing good hiking gear, leather hiking boots, thick but flexible jeans, and a red flannel long sleeved shirt. Strapped to her hip is a pearl handled revolver and strapped to her back is a sizable backpack.

    Once all are assembled she turns to them. "Hello, everybody! Let's get down to business. I'll explain what the plan, and what to expect as best as I know it, and the rest of you can fill in the holes if I missed anything."

    "So the first step is the ceremony that lets us step into the Duat proper. This involves a bit of chanting, touching various body parts with this," she says, holding up a peseshkef which is kind of a knife whose tip is forked, like a serpents, "and, yes, eating a live scarab. Scarabs represent the cycle of life and rebirth, so that should not only get is /in/ to the Duat, but /out/ as well."

    Lydia continues, "Once we're in the Duat, Phoebe will light our way and we'll walk through the field of reeds towards the gates. I cannot stress enough how important it is to stay in the light. It should scare off most of the badness that's in the field, but if you get lost in the darkness there's a host of bad things that will eat you, or you'll just end up wandering the afterlife for eternity."

    "Phoebe's light is going to affect me like sunlight, which means that I'll be pretty useless during this part of the trek, so I'd appreciate it if you all kept an eye on me." She pats the hilt of the revolver, "I've got this with me and some magic bullets and I know how to shoot if it comes down to it."

    "Since we're not taking the path of the Pharaohs, we'll only encounter three gates, and if my calculations are correct it should take us about an hour or so to reach each. There will be a demon at each gate that will present us with a challenge before we can pass," she says. "Expect combat, but the challenges could be a riddle of some sort, or other kind of emotional or mental challenge."

    "Once we pass through the last gate we'll make our way to the Halls of Judgement." She nods to Phoebe, "Phoebe can tell you more about what to expect there, but as I understand it we'll meet Jon there. I'm... not exactly sure what happens next. Jon may know, but he'll need help remembering who he is." She gestures at Cael, "That's where you come in. You'll be able to speak to his heart and draw his memories out."

    "After we fix what's wrong with the universe, I'll be leading the way out." She grins, and rests a hand on the revolver again, "I've got the power of love on my side, as cheesy as it sounds. That and I've already come back from the dead once, so I should know the way once we get there. When we get back, I've got tea and Fig Newtons for everybody."

    "If your worried about Lady Death not being with us, she should be meeting up with us somewhere along the line. She's got her own path to follow." She gestures to her backpack, "I'm bringing some energy bars, and a first aid kit and some water just in case this takes longer than expected. We shouldn't be there for longer than a day. If we are, I'm going to need to feed, which means I'll need a volunteer, but we'll cross that bridge if we ever get to it."

    She sets her hands on her hips and looks to the three women. "Any questions?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    After leaving her pup once more in the care of Martin and Agnes - with Lady Grey to play with - and delivering the key to the astral plane to Sara, Cael makes her way to Lydia's apartment. She's dressed in SHIELD tactical gear - as it can handle most field conditions. In addition to a pair of sidearms, she's brought along a few explosives, flash-bangs, and smoke and tear gas grenades - just in case, along with a thermos, a canteen, and her own first aid kit. Her amulet hangs at her chest - silver-blue, with a deeper blue stone set into it, and her hair shows its usual colorful combination of blonde, golden yellow, blue, and teal.
    She nods to Lydia in confirmation as the woman speaks, her expression tense and expectant. Hopefully this shit would all be over soon - but it felt good to actually be //doing// something. Something that made more sense to her than 'opening mouths.' Agnes had seemed to sincerely convinced that it was all necessary and helpful - and maybe she was right. But it had made so little sense to Cael.
    "Let's just get this done."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Sara and Johnny Blaze have the helm of the Dark while the leaders our out of comission. She'd asked nicely of one of her mentors to please not ignore his phone should they text. It was the least she could do. So she was there, looking as serious as she could make herself. Her braids were pulled back. She had her leather investigation kit strapped to her back, along with a pair of escrima sticks, some throwing knives and an extendable staff at her side.

    She stood to the side, hood up, her bare arms crossed showing the patchwork of burned in symbols and paler markings and scars crossing her left arm.

    She's already made a *face* at eating the live scarab, but she's going to go with it. There's not really much of a choice in the matter.

    "Lydia and I are the Source of Truth for this trip. If you decide to have a disagreement with us -- don't. This is the afterlife of my ancestors, and some of hers too." she comments. Smokebombs laced with blessed salts. Sanctified water. Beeswax candles and waterproof matches.

    She draws her hood back a moment, showing her blue-rimmed glasses and her dyed braids -- a dark cherry red. She turns up to Caitlin, and cracks a wry smile.

    "Good to have you fighting on our side. I was getting a bit worried." she states, and then draws her hood back up, stretching her crimson-gloved hands.

    "Do we have to swallow the scarabs whole? The instruction was a little fuzzy ont hat."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin is dressed comparatively lightly; Amazon-style armor, some of it partially repaired and not quite 'finished' as metalworking goes. Breastplate, greaves, bracers and a single pauldron; her helmet dangles from her hipstrap, and a split leather skirt with steel tassets protects her thighs. A falchion dangles from a hip scabbard, at hand if she needs it. Bandages still wrap her wrists, though the scars partially visible from the destruction of her bracers look to be grudgingly healing. She smiles at Phoebe-- a little wan, but real-- and gives her arm a gently apologetic touch with her fingertips. "Me too," she murmurs back.

She also has a heavy-duty expedition backpack on her back absolutely stuffed to the brim with spare supplies. Unlike her armor it is sleekly modern and made with a metal frame and reinforced nylon.

"I've got trauma care supplies, and some rations," Caitlin adds. "And some scientific equipment. I've been stranded in weird places before," she admits, wryly. "Rae gave me some pointers about safe travel in other realms, and I read up everything I could about Duat over the last few days."

She shoulders the pack and tightens it up so the frame rides efficiently close to her shoulders, and picks up one of the scarabs with an air of studied indifference. Wouldn't do for a big-time hero from the Titans to look squeamish about eating bugs.

"Should have packed some chocolate syrup," she mutters.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "You can chew," Lydia tells Phoebe. "In order to pass through the gate /something/ needs to die, plus they're a little too big to swallow whole." She laughs at Caitlin, "I've got some hot sauce if that will help."

    "All right, let's begin," she says, lining everybody up. She gives Phoebe an apologetic look. "I'm going to do this in English since my ancient Egyptian is abysmal, and I don't want to accidentally send us to Hel or Hades."

    She takes a step back and shakes out her nervousness in her hands. "I have opened the ways that are in heaven and on earth," she begins, "because I am the beloved of Isis. I am noble, I am a spirit, I am well equipped. Oh, all the gods and all the spirits, prepare a way for me!" Already there's the feeling of static in the air and the smell of ozone.

    She steps up to Phoebe and takes up the peshkef. "My hair is Nu," she says, touching her hair, "my face is Ra." At each body part mentioned she touches the forked knife, which leaves a slightly tingly sensation. "My eyes are Hathor; my ears are Wepwawet; my nose is She who presides over her lotus leaf; my lips are Anubis; my arms are the Ram, the Lord of mendes; my breast is Neith, Lady of Sais; my back is Seth; my muscles are the Lords of Kheraha; my chest is he who is greatly majestic; my belly and my spine are Sekhmet; my buttocks are the Eye of Horus; my thighs and my calves are Nut; my feet are Ptah; my toes are living falcons; there is no member of mine devoid of a god, and Thoth is the protection of all my flesh."

    She does this for each of the women, and for herself, and by the time she is done with the chant, the entire body has that electric tingle to it, like what you would get if you stick your tongue on a nine volt battery.

    She goes over to the terrarium and picks up four beetles. "Now for the fun part," she says sarcastically. She hands them out for each to eat, and just stares at her own. "Gods be with me," she says with a breath and pops it in her mouth.

    The taste... isn't as bad as she thought it would be. Kind of like a mild clam flavor. It's the texture that really does it. Crunchy and gooey, and not to mention that it was wriggling in her mouth just a moment ago. "Gluh."

    As soon as the beetle is swallowed, the space in the archway snaps into focus. A dark portal leading into the Egyptian afterlife... the Duat. "All right," she says, taking a steady breath. "Phoebe? Please lead the way."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I think we all care what happens to Jon. ...and I'm glad." Though, they also have an entire reality to save. She gives Phoebe and Caitlin each a small, tense smile, before returning her attention to Lydia.
    Being touched all over on her body - from her her head to her toes, from her thighs to her buttocks, is unexpected for Cael - and extremely uncomfortable as she stands in place, her teeth gritting, as she refrains from making any comment or protest. She also takes the beetle without a word, though she spends a moment staring at the creature, pinched between her thumb and forefinger as it wriggles its legs, with the look of utmost disgust. "Fuck you," she mutters quietly, though without any malice behind it - the sound is entirely one of resignation before she shoves it into her mouth and chews determinedly, with her eyes closed. She manages to swallow - and somehow refrains from gagging, though she ends up briefly coughing instead. "Not doing that again," she mutters, before starting for the gate on Phoebe's heels.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Diana probably would have thrown both of us into the ocean for not getting along if I ever had become an Amazon instead of training under-- well. Instead of what happened." Phoebe's smile is not wan, and it touches her eyes in spite of the scars and burns -- largely placed on herself. Why should anyone else suffer? "I've got hot cocoa packets."

    "Hey, you should hear my Hebrew." Phoebe answers back to Lydia, and she relaxes. She feels the magical aura in the air kick up. Something in her blood calls back. As Lydia casts, the magic circles, colored rose-gold of the sands at sunset and containing eight-pointed stars form on the back of her own hands. She recites with Lydia, and tries... she tries so HARD when buttocks is said to not laugh when the knife touches her.

    Teenagers.

    And wrinkling her nose at the offered scarab, she plucks it in her feather-bound fingers, tilts her head back, and with a crunch and a face that lets everyone know that she is *NOT PLEASED AT ALL* with having to eat a bug, she swallows, and shakes everything out like she was shocked with electricity, and she brings her hands up, crossed at the mid-forearm, her fingers forming an arcane symbol. Her eyes glow with the magic, her fingertips lightly up and leaving trails of light in the air, like smoke from a sparkler.

    "Du'at, akhet -- Ah Re, akhet!"

    Phoebe's Egyptian is flawless, and over her head there emits a brilliant halo of light, like a little hula-hoop of a sun, about five feet across that lights up the apartment brightly.

    Phoebe's glasses darken a little bit to make up for it.

    "Let's go."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin squares her shoulders and looks at the scarab. "Sorry," she bids it, and pops it in her mouth. The redhead chews quickly and steadily, working very hard to project a 'this is all perfectly fine' vibe-- to include the ceremonial words, and the electric frisson climbing over her skin.

But she does reach for a water bottle to wash the bug guts out of her mouth.

Caitlin brings up her bracer to her chest level and touches a control unit cleverly built into the steel. Her faithful drone scrambles out of a pocket (looking much like a bug itself) and perches atop her pack with quadwings secured.

"I'm right behind you, Pheebs," she murmurs to the angelic young woman. "Anything comes at you, just stick and move behind me."

She follows Phoebe through the portal, pausing just inside the cusp between realms to look around for threats-- and make sure Cael and Lydia are along for the ride.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The pathway through is truly dark. Without Phoebe's brilliance seeing anything would be all but impossible. There are rocky outcroppings that are a little too smooth to be natural litering the path they walk through. There is little actual path, it's more of a trail with dry brush grass tickling at their ankles and more rocks--rubble would be more accurate--littering the ground in a scatter of gravel.

    The outcroppings become more and more constructed as they go, eventually becoming free standing collumns and obelisks with heirglyphs depicted over them. Soon it's clear that they are inside a temple or sorts or at least at the front door of one.

    And what a door it truly is. A double stone feature with a single straght line to designate the part. Easily thirty feet high and polished to an almost glass-like sheen. Phoebe's light dazzles and sparkles over the face, illuminating heiroglphs and registers that are quite similar to the map given on the interior of The Book of Two Ways, one of a few sacred coffin texts that detail the interior of the Egyptian afterlife.

    There is an inscription written across the door, at eye level of a man of six feet the Ancient words written as text and pictographs.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    As soon as Phoebe's sun goes up, the little lights that are the physical manifestation of Lydia's ectoplasm winks out. She shields her sensitive eyes from the brightness and pulls a pair of sunglasses from a pocket to slip on. The sunlight strips away the human artifice that the night brings, and shows her for what she truly is: pale and undead.

    She knew this first leg was going to be tough, but the sunlight saps her of all her energy, all her power, and makes her sleepy. With a great yawn, she follows Phoebe and Caitlin through the portal.

    She wasn't sure what to expect on the other side, but the gradual shapes that turn into a temple wasn't one of them. "Hunh," she says. "I wonder where we are..." She walks up to the huge door and runs her fingers along the hieroglyphs reading them out loud to the best of her ability. "O Mahaf... something something... awaken? Yes. Awaken. Awaken Aken for me, as you are endowed with life. See, I have come."

    She looks at the other women in the party and says, "Well, looks like we open the door. Be ready for anything." With that she turns back to the door and pushes with all her might, which isn't much, given her weakened state. "Um," she says with a bit of embarrassment, "I could use some help."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael sticks close to Phoebe as she was instructed - blueish-silver armor appearing over her chest, and covering her right wrist and forearm, and her shins. Her left arm she leaves deliberately unarmored for the moment, so her leather cuff bracelet in blue, teal, and gold with cutouts depicting a kaleidescope of butterflies can be seen. She works her mouth a few times, trying to get rid of the taste of the bug - but then resorts to pulling the thermos free so she can take a swig from it, swishing hot tea filling her mouth as she caps it, and puts it away. "...ugh, that's sweet," she mutters.
    She studies the rubble that they pass with relative incomprehension, trying to ignore the impatience that tries to urge her into a jog. Rushing would likely to nothing but put them in more danger - especially if they need to stay close together.
    Repeatedly, her gaze is drawn towards Lydia - partially because of her changed state, which she was too preoccupied to study the last time she saw it - and partially because //in// her changed state, it was a good idea to make sure she was doing alright. As they reach the doors, and Lydia starts to push, she joins her - putting all the strength that the amulet has unlocked in her into the effort.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    This is rather peaceful compared to the last foray into the afterlife Phoebe's made. The young magi walks cautiously, peering into shadows, listening intently before they come to the temple -- and at that, she looks up and tilts her head, her lips pursing as she regards the door.

    She, of course, can read the letters. She looks to Lydia, waiting to see if she needed help, but as Lydia asks for help in just opening the door, she gives a look in amusement.

    "I don't know, if Aken's been awakened --" Phoebe asks as she extends her staff and steps forward "Should we knock?" she inquires, rapping her staff against the glass-like visage, before she also puts her shoulder and tries to push.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin's taking in the view with everyone else. This is a view few mortals ever get to enjoy (at least with a return trip in mind), and she lingers just for a few seconds to take it all in. And record it for posterity.

"Ladies. Hey." She flaps her hands at the three other women. "Me stronk wimmin, push door," she suggests. The backpack's taken off and set down for a moment; it has to weigh at least a hundred pounds. She rolls her arms, sets her palms on the door, and lowers her head between her shoulders.

"Speak friend, and enter!" she says-- and with a grunt of effort, starts walking forward. Caitlin's feet dig deep down into the sand and muscles crawl across her bare arms and legs with the effort. The stone slabs shudder in protest and start to swing open. Caitlin stops pushing once there's sufficient gap to admit the others, and takes a few seconds to sweep a flashlight around the area before going to her backpack and re-shouldering it. "Lights," she tells her drone, and it leaps skyward to hover six feet overhead with bright LEDs broadcasting a halo around the four of them.

"So... anyone home?" she murmurs, making it more question for the others than of the interior of the structure.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    As the party passes through the doors their feet land in water; shallow, cool water, rimmed on either side by a stone walkway. The path before them is wide and a ferry is moored to a dock nearby. But Mahaf is nowhere to be seen, after all the ferry is only for those who are dead and only one of their number can even be marginally called such among them. They will have to walk.

    Words are written into the rock of the walkway hard even for Lydia to parse out but they ring clear for the child of the sands. "I am the torch and the flame, I am the spear which is in the hand which is stabbed at those who are below. O you of fire, beware of me, for I am the knife which pierces the middle of his head. It is I who repels her and give her to the earth-gods who are in the lake. Geb is your protector, down on your face! Do not frustrate his actions."

    The walls on either side are make of absolute darkness that even Phoebe's light struggles to give purchase to. But there is extra luminosity here. The ceiling high above them is a slate of roiling flame; a curtain that beats down on the physical bodies that have entered in. It's not entirely unpleasant but it is a clear reminder that they are here in the flesh and what happens to them has consequences even after their departure.

    The curtain of fire starts to creep down the walls as they continue along the winding stream path eventually turning the walls of darkness into walls of flame adding more heat to the journey. The water steams as the fire on either side tries to boil it away without success.

    And there, suddenly before them is a gate wreathed in flame with darkness beyond its arch. But they are not alone. crouched low to the ground is a creature with scales of flame and eyes of darkness, it is quite large, easily 15 feet long and by the look of it easily more than a ton in weight. The fire crocodile sets its black eyes on the party and hisses a challenge to them.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia can't help but giggle at Caitlin's jest, but has to turn away once she starts pushing open the door. If she could still blush, she would be beet red by now. Stronk wimmin indeed.

    She clears her throat, and steps through the portal, letting Phoebe and Caitlin lead. As they walk she's doing her best to keep up, but it's more laborious than what she's used to. This is the first time that she's been out in sunlight for any length of time.

    As the walls of fire start closing in, Lydia frowns. "Don't stop shining, Phoebe," she suggests. "Just because we're getting light from the fire, I have a feeling that you're doing more than just providing illumination."

    She hesitates when the crocodile of fire comes into view. "That would be the first guardian," she says, taking a step back. Fire bad. "I'll..." she grunts in frustration. "Be careful when you engage. I'll see if I can't get a clear shot of it."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael hangs back with Lydia, taking up the rear, and urging the woman forward if she feels they're getting too close to the shadows, and out of Phoebe's protective light. She's not above strong-arming Lydia to help her keep up, if it becomes necessary - or yelling towards Phoebe to hold up a moment.
    She pays little attention to the heiroglyphs now, though she does study the flames with the faintest frown. It's so often fire these days. She's grown inured to it. As they reach the crocodile of fire, though, with his mouth held open and his threatening hiss she reaches for one of the grenades clipped securely near her waist. "I wonder if we could defeat this guy with a supersoaker?" she asks - before pulling the pin, and trying to toss the weapon directly into the crocodile's mouth.
    "Fire in the hole."
    She doubts the fire will do much to the creature. But the shrapnel, and the concussive blast? With any luck they'll still have a deleterious effect.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... oh mi god I didn't even think of saying Mellon. Do I give up my geek card now or can it wait until I get home?" she questions chipperly, "I am the Torch and the flame; I am the spear which is in the hand which is stabbed at those who are below. O you of fire, beware of me -- for I am the knife which pierces the middle of his head. It is I who repels her and give her to the earth-gods who are in the lake. Geb is your protector down on your face. Do not frustrate his actions." Phoebe translates for the group as they begin to walk. The halo above them moves with them, with Phoebe at its center.

    She seems uncomfortably warm. She leans down as she walks to run her fingers through the water, feeling it warm as well, and she flicks it from her fingers as she walks, giving a soft hum as the walls catch on fire.

    And then they come to the crocodile. Phoebe tenses a moment, her eyes narrowing.

    "Stay back." she motions a moment, and she stretches her hands out.

    And she brings her hands down to the water as Cael calls out Fire in the Hole.

    At that moment she raises her hands again, the eight-pointed stars spinning in front of her as she creates a shield in front of the group!

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin drops her pack (again) when Cael and Phoebe form up a loose defensive posture. The redhead looks back at Lydia and flashes an encouraging smile, then turns back to face the crocodile. She moves around enough to ensure she's got a clear line of sight to it, and scuffs her boots against the ground underfoot to test for traction.

"Don't get in front of me," she advises the others with a low murmur.

Caitlin plonks her helmet on her brow and attaches a steel rod to her left arm. It pivots and deploys into a heavy combat shield, turning her entire left side into an armored obstacle. She rests her hand on the hilt of the falchion at her hip, but does not draw it yet.

"Oh hey," she says, and raises her voice to address the darkness and flame. "I'm not here with--" she gestures vaguely overhead, finger in a circle. "The Olympians. This isn't a 'them' thing, it's a 'me' thing," she clarifies. "Y'know, destiny of the Champions, an' stuff."

She rests her weight back on her heels and looks to the others.

"What? I don't wanna kick off some inter-pantheon war," she mumbles, a little defensively.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The croc bites down on the grenade and the explosion that results only seems to annoy it more. Its tail thrashes wildly in aggitation before Caitlin makes of herself a target. Another rumbling growl-hiss comes from the beast before it charges forward, moving much faster than any creature of its size and ilk has any right to.

    It seems pantheons are the least of the crocodile's worry as it crashes against the combat shield of the Titan scratching and trying to use its size to overpower the redhead.

    Even as it claws at Cait's shield it turns its head to Phoebe and roars, spilling forth a wall of fire against the barrier of octograms and pressing against it. The heat of the beast and its flame are immense, simply being in proximity to it is enough to cause a normal person to break into a heavy sweat.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia grins once again when Caitlin jests. "Miss Fairchild, I don't think the Gods would PHOEBE LOOK OUT!" She flinches back helplessly when the gout of flame comes rushing towards them, hiding behind Phoebe's shield for protection.

    "I hate this," she mutters to herself. "I'm so useless like this." Still, she draws her weapon and takes aim. As much as she hates guns, she knew that this would be her only means of fighting during this leg of the trip. She only has six of the rune carved, magic infused bullets, so she needs to make them count. She steadies the gun with both hands, and stands, shoulders squared and feet apart, aiming for its head.

    "Miss Fairchild!" she calls out, "See if you can turn it so its side is facing us, that way I have a clear shot!" She waits to see if Caitlin manages to do that, because she really /really/ doesn't want to accidentally hit the Titan, and if she does, she takes a shot.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "...whoops. Guess that didn't exactly work," Cael remarks in an apologetic tone as she angers the flaming croc. She pulls out her pistol, just as Lydia is doing the same, aiming it and firing off a few quick shots as it breathes fire against Phoebe's shields. A more practiced hand than Lydia, she doesn't wait to take her shots - but her bullets are not magically imbued. What affect could they have?
    As the die off for a moment, her gaze is pulled to the side - a thoughtful frown on her features. After hastily holstering her weapon, the black metallic wings at her back flare out - and she flies over Phoebe and Lydia, and towards a stone lever past the crocodile, by the side of the gate. "Keep our friend busy!" she calls encouragingly as she places her hands on the lever despite the fact that it glows with heat. Her teeth grit, but she doesn't let out any sounds other than a pained grunt as she shoves it down with all of her strength - hastily wresting her hands free again.
    This is the //third// time in as many months that she's burned her hands.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    " -- Caitlin what are you *doing* that is a servant of Sobek and it does not *care* about who you're with--!" Phoebe protests, keeping her shields up to hold the fire from striking against Lydia and Cael.

    "Lydia, do you ever get the feeling that no one ever really asks what you're good at?" Phoebe inquires, and she summons up that Celestial Will she's got stored within her.
    "O venti spem portantes extingue flammas ante nos!" (O Winds that carry hope, extinguish these flames before us!) she summons a burst of wind from her back, hopefully pushing the heat, some water, the crocodile -- trying to both diminish the flames like putting out a candle and roll the crocodile with some water!

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin takes the hit like a professional. Weight low, center of gravity between her feet, dropping down for more leverage with the shield angling to direct the croc's momentum upwards when it slams into her. The redhead grunts and absorbs the shock with a flex of her legs.

She's ready for its lateral lunge at Phoebe, and backhands the croc in the side of its bony skull twice with the reinforced center of her shield. It's enough to deflect the gout of flame in less-hazardous directions. She grabs the croc's snout and clamps its jaw shut, pinning those snapping jaws shut under her arm in a modified headlock. Muffled snarls vibrate through the croc's trapped jaws, but Cait kicks her feet straight out behind her like an Olympic wrestler and forces the crocodile's jaw to the floor. She seems more than willing to make it deal with some four-hundred pounds of Amazon hanging at its very weakest point of leverage.

"No-- save your bullets!" she tells Lydia. "I can handle this-- help Cael!"

Caitlin knows enough Latin to get the gist of Phoebe's spell, and she twists and wrenches the crocodile around like a pro gator wrangler, using the rushing wind and water to rob it of balance and momentum. More importantly she maintains that deathgrip on its snout so it can't catch her in that snapping maw; that would likely do some harm even to the brawny Amazon.

The great beast finally gets its rear claws on solid ground and scrabbles forward. The dorsal spine plates flare as it readies itself to whip its skull upwards and throw Caitlin with all the power in its back muscles.

Just before it gets its balance set, Caitlin drives her feet forward, pins the croc's snout to her breastplate, and *lifts* with a grunt of practiced exertion. The croc's claws paddle and flail in panic, but it's too late-- Phoebe's spell lends her momentum and she steals the rest from Sobek's servant. Caitlin heaves and strains as the beast's tail, then rear legs come off the ground. She keeps heaving even as the front claws lose purchase and claw at the air, tail whipping frantically and aimed almost vertically overhead.

Then she kicks her legs, rotates with all the strength in her core and abdomen, and concludes the suplex with as much English as she can add to the full weight of the croc crashing to the ground.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    There is a wheezing hiss as the fire crocodile's air leaves it in a huff and though the beast is by no means dead it crawls off into a hole not far from where it landed, retreating for now.

    A hissing sound as if a great deal of gas is being released lingers on the air and the flames of the ceiling, walls, and gate fade. All surfaces still glow angry red but it seems that the path is open to them and they can proceed to the next level of their journey through the darkness past the gate of flame, taking stock of any injuries sustained on their way.

    As they proceed through the glowing red arch the hall of flame behind them disappears as does the gate, leaving them on a great sandy expanse shrouded in night. The dry air turns freezing almost instantly as the chill of a desert night surrounds them. The path is fairly straighforward, and soon something large and shimmering with pale light blossoms on the horizon.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "Yes, Phoebe," Lydia answers, "but I don't think writing smutty lesbian paranormal romance novels will help in this situation."

    At Caitlyn's command, Lydia sheathes her gun. If Caitlin says she's got this, then she's got this. This is just fine with her, since she hates guns and didn't want to shoot it anyway. The gun, not the crocodile. She hates shooting guns.

    It doesn't take long for her to see why, though. She's left standing there mouth agape when Caitlin just /suplexes/ the animal. "Wow," she says. "Okay. Yeah. That'll do it." She's now beginning to thank her lucky stars that she ran away from the woman during their first conflict. She would /not/ have wanted to have been that crocodile.

    "Cael, you okay? We're making good time, so we can stop and take a breather if we need to," she says with a confidence she most certainly does /not/ feel. She considers her own state before declaring, "I'm good to go, though. The light is... punishing. Harsh. But I can go on."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I meant more my -- nevermind."

    The servant of Sobek retreats, and Phoebe allows the wind to die out, sweat on her brow and making the acetate arms of her glasses feel slimey. Eeew. She lets go of a breath she was holding, looking to Caitlin with a mixture of disbelief and a little anger.

    "We should keep on moving through the gates. Cael. Let me see your hands." Phoebe offers, holding out her own. No one else appears to have any injuries -- Phoebe's only discomfort was her sweat She keeps the halo of light above them, illuminating the desert at night as they go -- Phoebe is still moving, distractedly, but offering healing to Cael's hands, the rosy gold glow of her magic pooling in her hands.

    "Watch for scorpions." she warns, "they're definitely listed as hazards. And if you see a giant one with the heads of your loved ones screaming on the back of it? -- Run to the next gate."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I don't think I could do that to any crocs, flaming or not," Cael remarks, as she stares down at her open palms. Blisters form almost immediately, and she lets out a quiet hiss of pain. "Do you think I was inviting trouble when I put those damned tattoos on?" she says in a dry voice. "Fuck."
    Towards Lydia she adds, "I'm fine to continue. If we could just wrap them or some-" But then Phoebe is there, offering healing, and Cael hesitanly places her pale hands into the other woman's - their differing skintones contrasting, even through the burns. "If it won't exhaust you too much. Who knows how much more we have to go through."
    As the glow of the healing magic begins to soothe her pain she lets out a sigh of relief - cautiously opening and closing them once Phoebe releases them to turn and continue on their journey, this time through the desert. "You know. I've had enough bugs already, I can skip scorpions."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin bounces back pretty quickly from the slam, clambering to her feet and getting her balance back. But the crocodile runs off all but yelping, and when it's clearly not returning, she exhales in relief and shakes the tension out of her shoulders.

"Y'know someday that tactic isn't gonna work any more, but until then, I just keep doing it and it keeps runnin 'em off," she says. Her hands clap dust away from her palms and she reaches for her backpack to shoulder it once more and re-settle gear knocked around by the fight. The glance from Phoebe is met with a baffled look; by the time Caitlin parses that Phoebe might be upset with -her-, the angelic woman is focused on Cael's hands. The moment passes awkwardly and Caitlin quietly sets herself up to watch out for said scorpions until the little party is ready to move on. She also takes a few moments to guzzle some water and dig a calorie bar out of an accessible pouch. There's no free ride when it comes to that kind of effort, even in the Astral, it seems.

"You write /ghost stories/?" Caitlin mutters at Lydia with a mixture of incredulousness and awe. "That's so cool. I've never met a professional writer before."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The shimmering building in the distance proves to be another open planned temple. Made entirely of ice. More incriptions in the Ancient tongue of Egypt are etched into the ice blocks on the approach to the interior of the temple.

    The tale appears to be of a previous jouney in this land of darkness and death: "The paths here are in confusion, every one of them is opposed to its fellow. It is those who know them who will find their paths. They are high on the flint walls which are in Rostau, which is on both water and on land."

    As they enter into the temple of ice a central figure stands on a risen pedestal. A scuplture of a lion made of the same crystaline water as the rest of the temple. The beast is much larger than its living counterparts in the world above, with a shoulder height more akin to a horse than a lion of the Serengheti. .

    Beyond it another arch stands, its pathway blocked by a sheet of opaque ice. Suddenly, the crstal lion roars and jumps from the pedestal. It seems that it is to be their second guardian. It roars again and cracks appear on many of the blocks that make up the temple from the sheer force of the sound.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Of all the reactions that Lydia was expecting to get out of Caitlin, awe was not one of them. "Well. Vampire stories, mostly. I know, the irony isn't lost on me. And I've got one with gargoyles in it. Haven't done ghosts yet. They're rather smutty, though, if you're thinking about picking one up." She looks up and grins at the large woman, "Fair warning."

    She's silent for a moment as they walk, regretting that she packed so much in her backpack when she was going to be so weak. "I wanted to talk to you about something," she says to Caitlin, her tone turning serious. "I'm chronicling this," she says. "What's happening here, with the angels, with what's coming afterwards... it's important. People will need to remember what happened and /why/ it happened. That's important too."

    "But if I want to do this, and do this right, I need to keep it objective." She shakes her head, and stumbles a bit when her foot kicks a rock. "Which means that I need to get the story from different perspectives. When this is done and we have time to breathe, I'd like to get your story, if I may. I want to get Michael's tale as well, if I can for completeness sake, but I think he's likely to be willing to talk to me than you are."

    She falls silent again as their path turns chilly. "Ice, now," she says thoughtfully. When they come up to the lion she keeps her distance. "I wonder if this is going to be the riddle part or another fight." And then it roars. "Fight, it looks like."

    Once again, she pulls out the revolver and takes aim, but holds her fire. She'll only shoot if it looks like it's going to come at her. Otherwise she'll leave this up to the others to fight.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael continues to keep Lydia in her sights as they walk - it was an attitude that anyone who's been on missions with her will recognize; she has a habit of keeping an eye on whoever she views as the most vulnerable, and helping to watch their back. Aside from watching Lydia, though, she constantly scans the desert, wary of scorpions up until they reach the temple of ice.
    The lion immediately has her wary attention, and when it begins to move, and roar, she unsurprisingly goes for another of her grenades. "Well. At least it's not a fire creature this time," she remarks, as she once again attempts to lob an explosive into the creature's mouth. Hopefully with better results than last time.
    Once the explosive is tossed, she pulls out her pistol once more, and begins scanning the temple for levers, trap doors, or anything of the like. Can you have levers or trap doors in a building of ice?
    Who the fuck knows? This is the underworld.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I'm closest to the Source of my powers here. Don't worry about me." Phoebe states to Cael with a gentle smile, and then they come to the temple rendered in ice, and she is a little more hesitant -- but utterly unbothered by the cold.

    She brings her hands up, this time as she summons fire, wreathing her hands in flame as she takes a step back from the icy lion, standing between it and Lydia.

    "-- Scowler? Definitely not Hippopotamous-Face who Bellows --" she trails off, bracing for the roar as the flames lick backwards. %

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin pinks a little at the tips of her ears, but makes a good effort at keeping her chin up at Lydia's warning. "The library on Themyscira isn't exactly rated PG," she says with an exaggerated sense of ease. "But, uh, thanks for the heads-up. And ... yeah, once we're through all--" she gestures vaguely ahead. "Once we have Dr. Sims back, we'll figure out how to ... get it all down on paper."

Caitlin's pace is measured a little shorter to accomodate the other women. Even with the heavy backpack it looks like she'll have no trouble keeping any pace the others can maintain. Her gaze wanders towards the strange features of the realm of the dead; skywards to inverted pyramids clinging to the underside of distant clouds, then down to the endless, crystalline blue of the river that seems to somehow always parallel the path they're taking.

When the lion makes itself known Caitlin drops her pack (again) and settles her weight over her toes. The cold doesn't seem to be bothering her at all, either; it's a relief from the blast furnace heat that singed their skin.

"I really don't think it'd be a good idea to destroy all of the guardians," Caitlin mutters to Phoebe. "I don't know a way to fight a crystal lion that doesn't involve breaking it. Is there... a way to calm it down? Or lure it away?" she hazards.

Cael's grenade barely ruffles Caitlin's bangs; then again, no one on this little crew seems overly concerned about the explosives going off. So at least one positive development for their journey thus far!

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The lion catches the grenade in it's mouth and the head of the beast explodes, sending ice chunks out in all directions. However, rather than dropping to the ground like a good and dead creature the head reforms the ice building back up and coalescing into the shape of the feline face once more.

    The cat focuses on the grouping and lunges forward hazarding a swipe at the group with massive jagged claws. It doesn't connect but the force of the blow is enough to let the group know they don't want to be on the receiving end of such a strike, even the massive Amazon might not be able to soak that much devestation.

    The lion roars again and starts to stalk from side to side, making sure to ensure that it keeps all its opponents in sight.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    "That's unfortunate," Lydia says with a scowl, as the beasts head just reforms after a grenade attack. As the lion starts to pace back and forth, she tracks it with her weapon. "I'm going to shoot it," she tells the group. "Regular physical attacks may just cause it to reform, but I've put a lot of mana in these bullets. Maybe it'll be enough to disrupt it." She narrows her eyes, "At the very least it'll be a good distraction while we think of something to do."

    She aims down the sights of the gun, holding her breath to keep her arms steady. Since she doesn't actually /need/ to breathe she can hold it until she gets a good bead on it. She squeeze the trigger and... stops before the gun fires.

    "No," she breathes. "This is wrong. Brute force isn't going to cut it this time." She closes her eyes, and repeats, "The paths here are in confusion, every one of them is opposed to its fellow. It is those who know them who will find their paths. They are high on the flint walls which are in Rostau, which is on both water and on land."

    When she opens her eyes, she scans the area, looking for something specific. "There!" she shouts, turning her gun to aim at the smooth wall reflecting the image of the lion. This time when she squeezes the trigger the gun goes off. *WHOOM!* It's like a magical cannon has been fired, and knocks the weakened vampire on her ass with the recoil. And the reflection of the lion... *shatters*

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Well that's just cheating!" Cael protests - but is that a note of... humor in her voice? Anticipation?
    She flares out her wings again, taking to the air, and a large, two-handed axe appears in her hands, sporting two heads, and with celtic knotwork engraved around the blades, a pair of stylized wings crossed at the center of the heads, and extending down the haft.
    Once in the air, Cael seems intent on diving down on the lion from above and behind - but just before she can attack, Lydia's call catches her attention, and she veers off with a graceful spin to her movements.
    "I wanted to kill the lion!" she protests - sounding for all the world like she's enjoying this. And perhaps she is - she's always loved a challenge, and a good fight - even before she ended up with the amulet she now wears.
    But she follows Lydia's example, scanning the walls for reflctions, and diving for one in a pillar, her axe swinging to shatter the ice.
    "So who's got eyes on our path out?" she asks.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe is on the move.

    she's twirled something out of her pack, running as fast as she can before she ducks and slides down, skidding on her knees as she releases a cloud of spray paint in her wake, forming a binding line and with her thumb flicked against a throwing dagger, she adds her blood to the mix, trialing white and red in her wake as she settles on a knee.

    She speaks Old Words, a mage of her people, the same who followed these paths before with scraps of spellwork, and then she presses her other hand to the Lion's reflection, trying to bind the guardian.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin keeps herself out front. Getting lacerated by those claws wouldn't do her any favors, but it's the sort of wound she could bounce back from. Phoebe or Cael, on the other hand... and the jury's out on just how 'immortal' the vampire Lydia is.

So citing herself as the only known variable prompts Caitlin to make sure the lion has to work around her to get to the others. This time she fences with sword and shield both in hand and takes fast, darting swipes at the lion when it reaches too far. She looks extremely competent with the setup. The falchion dips and dives in her hands as if it were weightless as paper-mache.

Caitlin gawks at the fallout from Lydia's snap shot, but it doesn't take her long to put two and two together. "Keep doing-- that! Keep doing that!" she yells, vaguely addressing everyone at once. "I see a thing, we've gotta-- there's a lever that-- just... cover me!"

She drops her weight and explodes into a sprint, the spike tips on her boot toecaps digging up great furrows of ice where she builds traction. In the space of two strides she's almost at full speed, and shoulder-checks the staggered lion with a staggering amount of force that belies their weight differentials. It buys her an opening to rush past it and reach the pillar that the lion had been using.

"Found it! Now, pull aggro!" she shouts back at the others, and without ensuring they get the reference, Caitlin digs through the snow and ice to find the end of a long, heavy lever partially buried in the ground. The air around her is intensely cold, frost forming in whorls on her armor. The brawny redhead seems to tolerate the temperature differential with little bother; any attept at frost touching her face or eyelashes is swiftly melted by her natural body heat.

She straddles the lever, grips it with both hands, and stands up swiftly like she's doing a caber lift. The first motion is abruptly checked by resistance that challenges even her strength; Caitlin resets her feet, drops her hips into a deep squat, and pushes upwards with as much effort as she can deliver. Teeth bared in a rictus grin, eyes screwed shut, she puts her whole being into the force delivered.

Ice cracks once, in warning, then *explodes* around her in a brilliant cloud of fragile crystal shards and fresh-grown frost flung around her like a white halo.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The crstal lion takes the shattering gunshot poorly, a large portion of its back and flank simply falling away and not reforming. The axe blow cuts deep and severs the left legs of the beast forcing it to let out a roar of pain. The binding of the young mage settles over the mystic beast and ensures that it does not harrass Caitlin as she turns off the great machine that creates the bar of their path.

    As the lever is wrenched into place there is a sound of some sort of gear system and more air pressure being released. The slab of ice covering the gate melts into a puddle revealing the first few feet of a path of deep red cobblestone.

    Moving onto the path forces the chill of the desert night to fade into obscurity. This path is once again dark and a faint odor lingers in the air. To all but Lydia, it is sharp with metallic notes. To Lydia, it is the scent of a buffet feast. The cobblestones are red from coloration.

    They are stained red with blood.

    There are no inscriptions here and no notes on what puzzles or threats could wait for them. In fact there is an eerie stillness in the air as if the air hasn't been disturbed in many, many years. The silence and stillness might be why they don't notice the creature and the gate as they are almost upon it. It stands sentinel aside the blood soaked archway. A red haze fills the portculis barring passage just as simply as the 10 foot tall, 25 foot long hippopatamus does.

    Easily 5 tons in weight the creature stands docily in place, not seeming to give much notice to the gathering. There is sometheing wrong with the creature though. It doesn't appear as solid as it should and blood drips from its form in a steady rhythm, pooling around its feet though no visible source for the constant sick liquid can be seen.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    When the doors open, the waft of the scent of blood hits Lydia like a hammer. "No-" she manages to gasp, throwing a sleeve over her nose. It doesn't help. She's salivating like a rabid dog, and the hunger twists knots in her stomach.

    "Go-" she gasps, clutching at the ground as she wrestles with her inner demon. "Fight it quickly. I can't...." She grunts. "I can't.... just /go/ and for the love of God don't get too close to me!"

Cael Becker has posed:
    As the gate opens, and they approach the red-soaked path, Cael remarks, "Jon's been through this - when Michael had him. He left Jon in the desert, and he faced a crocodile, a lion... and finally," she lets out a sigh as the archway comes into view, glaring at the strange, blood-dripping creature, "a hippopotamus, the most dangerous of the three. //Greeeeeeat//. Who's got eyes on the lever this time?" she asks, searching the structure with her eyes from a distance, before her gaze turns briefly to Lydia in concern.
    She takes a deep breath in, and lets it out in a sigh, before taking to the air once more. "Probably no point in me trying a grenade again, yeah? Let's do this."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I wouldn't." Phoebe replies to Cael quietly, and she breathes out.

    "Stay close enough to be in the light." she calls back to the grouping, and she steps forward. She keeps her eye on the hippo, and she draws down, her fingers brushing against the bloodstained cobblestones. She runs her tongue against her bottom lip, and she whispers out.

    "<O Mighty one who guards the door to where the sacred dwell, guardian of the bastion of Du'at, we have been charged to retrieve a soul by the order of Aset, she who recovered and gave rebirth to Khentiamenti, the judge of all souls. We have traveled far from cities far to the West to your realm, and we wish passage to the gate.> she whispers, honoring the demon and keeping her fingers on the blood, slowly beginning to flood the area with her own aura -- trusting Cait's not going to try and moonsault from the side of the ring on the poor hippo!

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin puts a hand on Lydia's shoulder. "Sorry," she murmurs, and applies some gentle pressure. The redhead is very careful not to do any real harm, but she's got enough of a grip on the vampire that any sudden lunges are going to face a lot of resistance. Cait doesn't look overly concerned about the possibility of Lydia biting her, more concerned with keeping her next to Cael and Phoebe without the bloodlust triggering a feeding attack.

Phoebe looks like she knows what she's doing; all Caitlin can do is hold her breath and watch as the angelic woman negotiates passage with the hippo. The fire crocodile was one thing, the lion another, but a hippopotamus made of weeping blood-- there is not a lot of room for applying brute strength to that particular problem.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The blood hippo looks up at Phoebe's words and stiffens in posture. Words come from the beast even as it's mouth is motionless. "You seek to pass through the Gate of Blood" it says,; it's voice thick and heavy and resonant.

    "Know that passing through is a effort that the living cannot do lightly. While the Gate of Fire tested body and the Gate of Ice tested the mind, the Gate of Blood tests the soul. Is your soul and the souls of your living companions strong enough?" The dark eyes focus on Lydia in the throes of bloodlust. "I am not so sure." It scrapes a bloody four-toed foot along the blood soaked stones, and chuffs out a heavy breath, a posturing threat to those who stand before it.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
    Lydia hisses as she grapples with her Beast, eyes red and fangs out. So much blood. So much hunger . Reigning it in would be so much easier if it wasn't for that damned sunlight making her so weak. Oh, how her beast hates it. It wants to attack and consume the bearer of the light, but Lydia knows what would happen if she let the beast do that.

    The Valkkai have a secret technique to tame the beast, put it to sleep for a while. With age and experience she'll be able to keep it permanently asleep, but for now, she's only been able to do it while already calm. Now, she has to struggle to do it while in the throes of bloodlust.

    She closes her eyes and stops her breathing. She finds it's easier to still herself if her body isn't trying to keep up the illusion of being alive. She forces her clenched hands to relax and to try to settle her mind into peaceful resistance. This will take some time.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "It's not just going to //let// us through, Phoebe! It's going to cost us something," Cael says from overhead. "I already asked about these creatures. It's okay to harm them. We're //expected// to. They restore themselves as soon as we pass - and I won't let this thing come between me and Jon," she declares harshly.
    She doesn't know much about hippos - let along mystical ones - but she gets the distinct impression that hippos can't jump. So coming in at it from above, and trying to approach from behind, she swings her axe towards the back of the creature of blood, to test if it can be harmed. Beating her wings, she swiftly flies past it, regaining height to try to keep herself from too serious of harm.
    How does one test their soul? What does it require of them? And hasn't her bloody soul been tested enough of late?
    "Does anyone have eyes on some sort of lever?" After all - that played a role the last two times.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
The fingertips on Lydia's shoulder tighten when the madness intensifies. For the moment Caitlin's focus shifts to the vampire, and despite keeping a hand ready to restrain her, there's a silent urging of suport coming from the redhead. "Fight it," she murmurs-- and as Lydia succeeds, she nods approvingl and the pressure on her fingertips relaxes perceptibly.

She is therefore distracted by Cael's sudden aggression, balking at the detective. "Cael, no, wait, I don't think--"

She winces at the attack on the hoary old monster, and steps forward a pace or two to make sure she's near enough to Phoebe to ... do something. Even if she'll end up with one hand full of vampire and one hand full of angel feathers.

A problem for future Caitlin!

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Phoebe takes point on this, standing in front of her companions, drawn down in front of the mighty river-horse, knee down in the blood as she draws her hood back with both hands, braided hair and undercut showing as she breathes out, surrounded by the smell of blood.

    She keeps the light going behind her, not registerring Cael's change in altitude before. She was focused on the demon before her, her hand still up, placating and subservient as the hippo changes its stance. Her breath is drawn as she is about to speak again, but then Cael calls out.

    "No -- Cael just let me tr--" she begins, but she's cut off by Cael's charge, her eyes going wide with a moment of panic.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The body of the hippo does not act as a physical body should. The axe strikes the form and ripples shudder out from the impact point but the 'skin' does not break. Normal hippos can't fly, and this one is no different in that respect.

    What this one -can- do is spit. It turns and opens its mouth. A fountain of bloody spray spills forth over the armor and skin of Cael and something strange happens. The strength granted to her by the armor falters. She is suddenly so weak and so very, very tired. The wings on her back simply stop functioning, sending her to the ground in a heap. It would be easier to find a dark spot in this bloody realm to lie down and go to sleep, wouldn it?

    The hippo looks at Phoebe and more words come from it. "Your supplication is endearing child, but unnecessary. One is found lacking. Who is next to test the strength of their soul? Let them come forth and fail. In the end all who try to pass will be consumed." It's feet scrape once more over the slick stones another visible show of intimidation. It's quite obvious that this creature is on another level of power than anything that came before it. But what is the true test for the Gate of Blood?