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Unbalanced: Ouroboros' Oct 2010 Vignette


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October 31st, 2010. The final showdown.

Ouroboros was frankly embarrassed at how long it had taken him to realize what was happening. He KNEW it was coming and had he been a better student, or known he was going to be pulled back in time and have such responsibilities he would have remembered the date. It was after all one of the seminal battles the Midnighters had fought, would fight? Either way he knew clearly the course of the battle and more importantly he knew what need be done by the end of the battle.

If he had realized sooner certainly he would have been more prepared, and of course may have been able to alter the battle to greater degree but then again perhaps somethings were immutable in the end. The entire process of the spliced timelines frankly threw him for a loop and he preferred not to think on it overmuch. Regardless his course was now clear, if not simple particularly amidst the battle between the death gods and earth primes mystic defenders.

As the battle was joined he listened to his parents demands and hung back, not because he bought into their incessant coddling but because his purpose here was not to match magic with a death god but a far more subtle task o just as great import. And if he had his way of much greater import to one very deserving entity.

No small number of cultist spirit and risen fell before his mystic might to be sure. But he did not fight a pitched battle against the greater foes. He flickered through the chamber of horrors his mystic flames scoring the walls with precision. Calling upon mystic forces he wrought subtle changes in the rite as it progressed sapping and redirecting a small portion of the power. Not enough to be missed but enough for his purpose.

A candle here a rune there. Minor changes all after all his goal was not so very different than the Hellenistic god of deaths in the end. He carefully watched the flow of the battle from the fringes a well placed bolt of mystic fire here or there turning the tide where he could but most of his attention was on the careful subversion of the ritual. Without a doubt the Hades would be defeated. He as always underestimated the potency of primes mystic defenders. But at what cost? Ouroboros knew how high that cost could run and he was intent it would not be so.

As the battle drew to its inevitable height he withdrew well back from the front lines and began his own low chant as he twisted the building power of the ritual. Voodoo was not his area of expertise but he knew the rules that bound gods on this plane better than most. They needed to be summoned. More importantly the loa must cleave to their deals. And so he struck a silent bargain for the unlife of one the world still needed even if the gods were done with him.

As he spoke the final words to seal the pact light flared across the room as dead head collapsed and the rite was completed but this time the cost would not be so high as it might have been. And more importantly it would not be known what might have happened. Some things were locked in place but some, some could be changed.

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