It wasn't often something caused the wheels to stop spinning in the outer planes. A moment in history recorded that night when what had supposed to have been locked away for eternity and never to come back. That presence was revealed finally. Roan Vhenguir walked. The planes paused if even for a moment. They knew it now and preparations were being made.

For most were those of chaos already searching. As soon as they knew where he was the attack was on. Creatures of pure chaos were being spawned for this. There masters didn't care if they were strong or weak just that they would work to get the demon lord to stand still long enough for them to attack. Ygrol The second oldest Slaad lord with his use of the spawning stone to change the physical form of the Slaad into the frog-like creatures that they now look from the embodiment of chaos they started as.

Blackened, winged skeletal hulk looking through the swirling mists watching. He could pick it out. It looked more like one of the planes of chaos than anything else. He knew of Rhydin and could get there if he wanted. His head turned letting empty sockets shift to the scythe and finally to Shkiv the great wyrm brass dragon.

His deep voice, more like cracking rocks than anything else seemed to come from all around as jawbone slowly opened and closed not matching the pattern of the words. "He lives. I will not win this fight," He knew as he started his life at the end of all things and lived backwards through existence. "But it seems I am to be the first to attack. Ironic isn't it?"

The great Dragon looked from the nothingness that he chaos currently took the form of to his lord. A single eye blinked before its head turned back to the twisting maelstrom of realities that the chaos was at the moment. Only then did the other blink.

It was an avalanche that erupted, rocks cracking and falling were his laughter, and somewhere within known existence a village was crushed.

She'd known that eventually something like this would occur. Quite frankly she'd been more surprised than he'd been that he'd lasted so long without revealing himself. To have gone four months without hearing his name, without touching the power innate to him, and his kind, had to have been something he'd wrestled with from moment to moment.

Knowing that was to have been his eternity had to have been torment.

A shoulder rolled into a shrug, cloud soft cotton rustling with the motion. Oiled leather was inspected, every half inch gone over with a fine toothed comb, a tooth brush, a scrap of cloth and oil. Another war as coming and she'd be damned if she went down because her armor was in disrepair or neglected. The thought gave her a moment's pause, and a few minutes of soft laughter.

More than likely there'd be no few Powers throwing themselves into the coming conflict. Beings most Primes called Gods, with all their might stacked within easy reach. And she was worried about some bits of leather.

She'd gone through her personal, private store of weapons and items once already. Taken careful inventory and made note of those pieces needing repair or recharging. By the end of the day, before the sun dipped its toes behind the mountains in the west, she'd be as physically prepared for the eventual onslaught as she ever was.

Though she was well aware that she couldn't imagine, couldn't begin to imagine the power the enemies had at their beck and call, she didn't doubt that they'd come out on top. Might have their arses handed to them on more than one occasion, probably would wind up tore the hells up on more than one level, but they'd make it through.

She believed that completely. Had to believe that.

A full Day had gone by and The Vhenguir hadn't shown up. Ygrol knew he would he had seen it pay out many different ways. And this was the most ironic. He knew Roan hated anyone claiming to be a hero. So he waited watching the Slaad gate in more.

Roan knew he had known for a little wile but for some reason he was wary. The worry over those that he called friends weighed upon him until he could do nothing more. His voice ringing out in the house hard as steel and sharp as a blade, "Damn it he's going to make me play the hero. Thorn its time to go." With that one hand snapped up ripping his own shadow apart causing it to shift and swirl until it became a writhing maelstrom of chaos and darkness. It would be left open long enough for Thorn to get the general area and with him there a pinpoint exact spot. He stepped through.

Amber eyes looked forward at the village from the rise of a small foothill and all he could do was shake his head. They had multiplied once again and there were closer to eight thousand Slaad. Right hand dropping down grabbing Ophidia by the hilt and drawing her as his mind snapped out grabbing the elemental blade with his mind and letting it float to the left of him.

Now came the hardest part. His mind snapping out over the distance to make contact with those that he knew wanted to assist him aswell as activating the comband on his wrist. It is time to gather. Those were the words that his mind snapped out. His voice used to commanding people Bit hard with disgust as he watched the area surrounding the village, "The first strike has landed if you don't want to join the fray stay back. If not I'm going to need your ass's quickly.

The area surrounding the village shifted. The creatures were everywhere. And something felt so wrong with all of this it hurt to witness. When an area has that much concentration of a certain alignment it could get pulled into the reality of the outer planes.

She'd hoped for a day or, hells twenty, longer. She'd hoped, but hadn't put much faith in it. Thorn had been leaning against the kitchen counter, absentmindedly stirring the contents of a pot while trying to work through the wording, and pronunciation on the page she'd been plowing through for the last hour.

Wary, and ready, amethyst eyes snapped up to latch onto liquid amber. "Got it." When he went through his Gate, she followed the trace of it while stomping into, and lacing up, knee high boots. With quick, almost brusque hand motions she sent Dae into motion. Got him moving to gather at least basic medical supplies together.

In less time than most would think she was stepping out of Roan's shadow, rolling her shoulders and bouncing on her toes like a prize fighter going for a belt. There was a distasteful wrinkle at the tip of her nose when she came the rest of the way through and took a solid look around.

"Somehow, 'm sure those aren' good eatin'." Slaad, frogs, sort of (but not really) close. Eyes narrowed, pinched at their corners, the smile she most often wore bled into a ghost of itself.

Something felt wrong, terribly wrong, in the region and though she could feel it, she couldn't put a name to it. Couldn't quantify it enough to feel comfortable give voice to the 'offness' she felt. So she waited, the aspect of cheerful, chipper young woman bleeding away into someone ready, even eager, for the coming conflict.

He nodded lightly though those amber eyes never left the village before them. In front of them the air was changing shifting, taking on a slightly tinted look going from the normal translucent to green hued to red and yellow before they started to merge and making all colors swirling. It was jarring on the eyes but they could deal.

Roan was already steeling himself in his mind and the others as they were before he took the first step past where reality changed wile it expanded outwards. The chaos would hit any within like a ton of bricks mentally. What was in there were the elements becoming random one second everything was solid the next they were moving through a liquid landscape before all was frozen in stone and no one could move then the burning fires erupted and that was the reality of the place. Constantly changing and in flux.

He looked back to the others and grinned. This was something he was used too and he spoke the words were garbled, changed languages mid-word and fell silent for part of what he was saying. His mind hand to snap out to the others to let them know. ~Not only will we have to hold onto ourselves but try to concentrate on the way you want reality here its malleable.~ His mind became stilled even with the chaos surrounding him and he forced reality to become stable around him, at least for a few feet.

And with the next step he was thirty feet to the right. It seemed even with the control over reality space and time were also distorted.

This, this place of all places, suited the twisted nature of one just as malleable as time and reality itself. The angel reached back into his own mind, and when more of his nature poured through the Conduit, he barked a short laugh at the world. Such arrogance as he held would answer any challenge, such an ego would sooner die before give ground.

The twin pricks of light scanned the motions of those who were near him, and finally, the grey hood dipped in the ruined light of his wings. "And so it begins, no?" Idly, Transcendence flared to life in his hands, and the liquid fire began to drip off of his wings. Where it landed, he cared not. Said wings flared to life behind him, and pushed him into the storm that reality had become. He pushed, more with his mind then anything else, and in his reckless nature, he ran into a silent wall. For a moment, the angel stood suspended in place, his own war taking the majority of his attention. However, the weight of his will drew forth more, and still more, of his essence into this strange junction of worlds.

Finally, his wings beat again, and the armored specter swung to the opposing side, his own brand of chaos keeping the local flavor at bay. Golden in the night, the masterwork blade fell, and his wings grew, tendrils reaching for those who had the gall, those who had the nerve to stand before such a monster with no leash.

The sound she made was not a happy sound. More the tangled spawn of a snarl and a pained groan. For a moment, the blink of an eye really she'd felt the entirety of her being shift and warp.

She'd actually felt fur growing, butterfly wings sprouting from her back. With a sharp shake of her head the woman bore down on the reins that connected her to herself. Handily enough a frog-thingy popped up on her right. With a smile that didn't hold nearly as much cheer as it usually did, she shifted to face the creature.

Hands in loose fists, blade edges caught and flared in the light before a single uttered word in a language that, very briefly, was actually visible in the air, and true, real fire erupted around those blades. Fluid, feral and nearly boneless, she took a shuffled step or three in rapid succession to close the distance. Right, then left snake quick she slashed at the creature's throat and chest. Frog in a blender.

Arthour was right it was more of a feel of something until he stepped in. As from the outside there wasn't much to see on the outside of that expanding bubble of chaos. Everything could have been just moments ago that everyone had stepped in. There were no elementals from Devs wings, none from Roans sword, and no movement over the long distance to the village that held the Slaad.

Upon stepping in though everything would twist and almost rupture with the strain that it was putting on the land. All at once everything caught up to the reality of the inside from the out. All the creatures were everywhere. The bells all went off at once forcing there sounds within Arthours mind in a split second. And immediately there were six Slaad next to the man leaping at him with clawed forehands striking as if they had started to strike before they were even there.

The one Thorn turned into shredded meat quickly fell to the ground splattering blood all over the area. The blood itself quickly congealing and becoming a small liquid bubble before it snapped up into the air and filled one of the brass bells stopping its sound. Another stepped forward for her though where it ended up was back to back with the woman. Claws missed as it struck empty air but those powerful legs pressed hard into the ground dragging its back against hers and through itself backwards hopefully driving its hard skull into her spine and bowling her over.

Acid burned boots stomping on the small vermin hoping to crush the majority of them out before they could gather he had started as soon as two merged into one and gotten larger. Most here the acid by itself couldn't kill but it could hurt like hell and hamper quite a bit. The blade itself wouldn't vanish and he dared not to open a shadow gate to deposit it within. A quick turn and he flung the blade in the direction of the gathering and oncoming Slaad. It twisted and jumped through the space looking like it was almost everywhere at once before it finally hit one of the edges of reality and passed outside of the quasi-reality that they were held within.

Knuckles whitening around Ophidias hilt for with the turn the two Slaad that were behind him started there attack. Leaping in with claws Ones mouth open wide to perhaps try to swallow the demon lord whole. That sword flashed as he stepped down dropping to one knee letting her keen edge run a line across the creatures belly before he let his knee give out and he rolled to that side over his shoulders coming back to his feet. Leaving one wounded Slaad standing there hitting nothing though the other was twisting in the air and leaping over the top of the wounded one at Roan. Shadows rolled up the hilt of the blade as he stepped back into the attack. The faces within the shadows with mouths agape starving for what they could get too. The blade sank home in the creatures chest darkness engulfing quite a bit of it and devouring part of the body and the creatures immortal soul.

Not to be outdone by a blade, the tendrils of the gauntlet pulled free and jerked his arm down with the reach for the wounded sinking into its flesh. Ridges under the skin from the tendrils started to bulge and expand before one burst out the creatures eye socket, and engulf its head constricting until it was no more than a mass of pulp. Blood and fluids both vital and not congealed from both creatures snapped up into the air to fill another bell. Its sound dying.

And for a moment, our brave, blood-letting redneck who charged headlong into battle, turned into an utter girl. "Ewewewewewewew!" The words were nearly a squeal, and accompanied by the age old dance of Icky!

The dance and chant however, cut off abruptly when the Slaad's backward headbutt connected. Drove her forward in a couple of staggering steps and stole the breath from her.

Turning, her eyes narrowed in a venomous glare. "B*tch, y're gonna fry." A growl rough and harsh as she darted forward again. Blades leading, dabbing and slashing, slapping like the paws of a rather hacked off cat.

She'd dipped and spun, swung out low and sliced across high. And taken more than a few solid hits for her efforts.

Hissing and growling, there were few traces of the chipper and cheery little blonde she usually showed the worlds in her. And memory struck. A faint buzz that turned, abruptly into a jangle of sound and had her smiling fierce and bright.

"It is infinitely easier to effect a world than it is a single person on it."

With Limbo bleeding through so solidly here, and with her imagination slamming into overdrive, what could happen, what would happen when she decided that there was an oil slick spreading forward in a widening cone from her position? When she could feel the layer of grease between her own feet and the ground. Could see it spreading, oozing like thickened water, could smell it in an under tone in the air.

"Tolja, y' were gonna fry." Said with a smirk before she bent just low enough to skim the tips of her hand-blades across the oil soaked and coated ground. Hand-blades that were very much on fire. And fire and oil were such a ...volatile combination.