It was a grisly marker by which his fatigue was measured. The hallways behind him were absolutely littered with the dead, mutilated, and the dying, as he cut a swath of destruction and murder right through the ranks of his opponents. There was no grace, no honor, and no mercy in his method of killing. He simply charged forward, accepted any injury that the victim dealt upon him, then ripped him limb from limb. Anyone who crossed him died, from armed guards to unarmed servants, they were all treated with the same merciless finality. Tarrin's feet left prints of red behind as he stalked forward in the large chamber, where a single Troll stood on the far side holding a huge club made from the gnarled taproot of a tree. Trolls were natural enemies of the Were-kin, and Tarrin challenged it with no fear as he stalked forward, paws out wide and preparing to rush the thing and tear out its throat. Men and women rushed in behind that Troll, some of them obviously spellcasters, but it was the ones with crossbows, bows, and swords that caught the Were-cat's attention. But there was no surrender, no mercy, no turning back. There was only forward, there was only rage, and there was only freedom.
With a savage roar, Tarrin burst forward, but his moves were not as fast, not as sharp, as they usually would be. Arrows and crossbow bolts slammed into him, staggering him, but he neither fell nor stopped. The Were-cat ignored the hammering missles, keeping his attention on the advancing Troll. He ducked under and away from a massive sweep of that club, and lanced inside its swing as it carried through. His claws were out, and they flashed once and once only as he slipped up and inside the Trolls' stance, sweeping upwards from the floor and raking right through the area covered by the foul monster's fur breechclout. The crippling move would have worked, had he not missed and struck the Troll on the inside of his thigh rather than the crotch. The move made the Troll give out a ear-shattering bellow, and the Were-cat found himself flying across the room. He struck the far wall head first, bringing stars to his eyes and sending to the floor in a heap, but the shuddering of the floor beneath him warned him that the Troll was advancing to finish him off.
He rolled just as several more arrows and crossbow quarrels struck the floor where he had been, then kicked out with his foot. The blow didn't have much behind it, but it was still enough so crack the shinbone of the Troll's advancing leg as it set it to drive Tarrin through the floor with its club. The Troll hopped back and bellowed again, taking its massive club in both hands and raising it over its head. It moved with surprising speed, catching Tarrin just under the arm as it quickly feinted the overhand smash, then switched to a vast underhanded sweep that caught the weary Were-cat off guard. Tarrin sailed through the air, landing heavily on the floor some paces away, arrow and bolts tearing out or breaking off as he rolled and skidded to a stop. Tarrin was dazed, so dazed that the Cat nearly lost its control of his mind and allowed his conscious mind to return, but the Cat was still too enraged to relinquish control yet.
Not until it was free.
The Troll limped forward with men and women advancing behind him, coming to end the Were-cat right then and there, and the Were-cat was too tired to be certain it would survive.
And then the Weave flooded back.
Screaming in sudden fury, Tarrin's eyes turned from their unholy green to a blazing, incandescent white as the Cat reached out and seized hold of the Weave, using its animalistic ferocity to take command of it. Raw power flooded into him like water over a fall, but where Tarrin's conscious mind could not control it, could not bear the pain, the ferocity of the Cat could. His paws literally exploded into Magelight, and the Cat lashed out with the deadly weapon immediately and brutally. A wave of solid air blasted past the Were-cat's thrusting paws, taking up the entire height and width of the room, and it moved at a speed that defied sound. The Troll's body simply crumpled against the horrific force. In the blink of an eye, the entire far wall was smeared with red stains, bloody clothing, and shattered weapons and armor, from the bodies of everyone that had been before him. They had been crushed into liquid by the supersonic speed and force of the wall of solid air. There was a sudden ear-shattering BOOM, like thunder, that shook the entire complex and caused dust to shake free of the ceiling.
More. The Cat could control the power, but it couldn't allow it to build up, because not even the Cat could stop that mad influx of magical energy from flowing into him. If that happened, it would destroy him from the inside out. He had to expend that power, almost as fast as it built inside him.
Raising his eyes to the ceiling, Tarrin's entire body became engulfed in the wispy white energy as he gathered in the power he needed to use his magic to free himself in one mighty blow. He wove together a chaotic weave of Fire, Air, Earth, Confluence, and Divine power, adding the flows of Water and Mind just so they could be present within the weave of High Sorcery, and give the weave the true power of which it was capable. That weave built inside him, burning him with its power, its purity, scouring away his pain and replacing it with the true might, the majesty, the awe of the Goddess and her Weave.
He was one with the power, and he would use that power.
A low growl in his throat built quickly into a scream that seemed to go in harmony with the shimmering sound caused by the aura of magic around him, as he built up the power, the will, the rage to unleash his magic, to accept the searing, beautiful pain of High Sorcery and use the gift granted him by the Goddess to free himself from the prison of his enemies.
Then the weave was suddenly unleashed in the direction of his pointing paws, driving into the ceiling. It moved at speeds that transcended imagination, searing through the rock and mortar above him, burning through the layers of natural stone and earth, and vaporizing a hole through the floor of the crypt above. It continued on, blazing a hole through the crypt's ceiling, through the floor of the Nave, through the ceiling of the Nave, and up and into the heavens.
Allia watched Keritanima run, but she immediately understood that it was not cowardice. She heard the Wikuni shout for them to lower the Ward, and Allia felt it when it was done. The Weave flowed back into its normal place within the cathedral, the strands returning to their rightful places within the Nave. Allia didn't quite understand why her sister was so rash. Lowering the Ward was allowing the priests access to their magic!
And then Allia felt a weave of horrific power form, manifest, and then disperse in the blink of an eye. The entire Cathedral shook and shuddered in the aftermath of that incredible weave, and a loud boom rocked the floor beneath them, making the stone groan and squeal as it settled back into place. What power! She had never felt its like, never dreamed that anything like that could be done! She could feel it below them, a power twisting the very Weave itself, drawing it towards it as it built up power to do something else.
That was Tarrin! Nobody, not even a circle, could make the Weave do that!
"Get back!" she suddenly screamed in fear. She could feel it build, and build, and build, and she realized with horror that Tarrin was about to do something serious. And he was directly under her feet! "Holy Mother, everyone get back!"
Allia pushed Darvon out of the way, and the others scattered just as a strange light appeared in the floor. And then a beam of pure, intense, blinding white light erupted from that spot, splitting the air in a loud shattering scream that caused Allia's ears to start bleeding. It burned through the floor in an instant, then travelled up and through the ceiling of the Cathredral to travel towards the heavens. It sustained itself for no more than two heartbeats, but it made absolutely everyone within the Cathedral drop to the floor and scream in fear and terror.